Star Wars_ Darksaber - Kevin J. Anderson [168]
Luke clambered out of his X-wing and then used the Force to yank Artoo out of the navigational socket and lower him gently onto the landing grid. The astromech droid had been used as a test object so many times by the Jedi trainees, he was accustomed to being jostled about by invisible hands.
Kyp Durron hurried over to Luke, his dark eyes shadowed from lack of sleep. “Welcome back, Master Skywalker. We knew you’d come soon.”
Luke nodded. “I’ve got to help pick up the pieces here. The search for Jedi Knights continues, no matter what else happens around us.”
Kyp nodded soberly. “We made a fine grave for Dorsk 81 out in the jungle,” he said uncertainly. “I originally thought we should take him back to Khomm to be buried—”
Luke interrupted, shaking his head, “They have enough of their own dead.”
Kyp agreed. “Yes—and I knew him well enough to understand how he felt. Dorsk 81 was a Jedi Knight. He would rather rest here in the place of the Jedi, than be sent back to the homeworld he spent so much time trying to escape. He never fit in there.”
Luke looked up into the baleful orange eye of Yavin that filled much of the mist-covered sky. Its storm systems seemed so peaceful, so soft. And yet he knew that the gravity of this giant world had swallowed Callista and Daala and the Knight Hammer whole. A shiver ran down his spine, and he hoped for a moment he would hear Callista’s voice, see a vision of her face across the planet’s surface, a message she sent from beyond.
But it was only his imagination, and no words from Callista were forthcoming.
Tionne came up, her mother-of-pearl eyes shining. She tossed her silvery hair. “The supply ship came while you were gone, Master Skywalker,” she said. “Everything is running smoothly again, and we’re all working together—but we would achieve better progress under your direction.”
Luke forced a smile and looked at the Jedi scholar and loremaster. “You do a fine job yourself, Tionne.”
“Oh, I almost forgot,” she said, evading the compliment. “The supply shuttle brought a sealed message for you. We put it in your quarters.”
Luke frowned. “Who is it from?” he said, expecting more trouble.
Tionne shook her head. “We didn’t play it. It’s a private message.”
“All right,” Luke said. “Come on, Artoo. Let’s get inside.” He gestured in greeting to the other Jedi Knights who continued their training, putting test exercises to work completing reparations to the stone edifice of the temple.
Inside the cool, shadowy corridors of the Massassi pyramid, Luke found the way to his quarters as Artoo rolled along behind him, making occasional whistles and hoots to show his pleasure at being home again.
Luke found a sealed message cylinder on his sleeping pallet. He rolled it on his palm and tried to guess who it might be from, but he could think of no one. He frowned suspiciously, not sure he wanted to know … perhaps it was someone expressing unwanted sympathy—and that would only make his loss hurt deeper.
He shucked out of his comfortable flightsuit and wrapped himself in one of his Jedi robes, feeling the familiarity and the associative power of the Force. Then finally, in his guise of Jedi Master again, he opened the message cylinder, pulled out the data shaft, and inserted the components together so that they played. An image formed in front of him, and Luke gasped.
“Callista!”
Her face looked off into the distance, not seeing him. He couldn’t tell how long ago this had been recorded. She seemed weak and haggard, but with a new kind of inner strength.
“Hello, Luke. The first thing you need to know, I suppose, is that I’m not dead. Sorry if I frightened you. There was no way for me to get back. I barely got out of the Super Star Destroyer in one of the last