Star Wars_ Fate of the Jedi 02_ Omen - Christie Golden [109]
Seeing the pair in such a state made Leia’s heart ache. It also terrified her, for both of Corran Horn’s children had fallen victim to the same condition. Now, with Temple scientists no closer to identifying a cause, she was beginning to fear that this strange insanity might claim an entire generation of Jedi Knights. And that was something she would not allow—not when every new case reminded her how confused and helpless she had felt losing Jacen to the madness of the Sith.
The golden outline of an access portal appeared in the invisible barrier field that enclosed the atrium. With Han and C-3PO following behind, Leia stepped into the leafy-smelling interior and was not surprised to feel a subtle pang of loss and isolation. The olbio trees were filled with ysalamiri, small white reptiles that hid from their native predators by creating voids in the Force. The adaptation was an invaluable tool to anyone who needed to incarcerate rogue Force-users—and all too often lately, that included the Jedi themselves.
As the portal crackled shut behind them, Han leaned close and warmed Leia’s ear with a whisper. “I don’t think cutting them off from the Force is helping. They look crazier than ever.”
“Seff and Natua are not crazy,” Leia reprimanded. “They’re ill, and they need our understanding.”
“Hey, nobody understands crazy better than me.” Han gave her arm a reassuring squeeze. “People are always calling me crazy.”
“Captain Solo is quite right,” C-3PO agreed. The golden protocol droid was standing close behind the Solos, his metallic breastplate pressing cold against Leia’s shoulder. “During our association, Captain Solo’s sanity has been questioned an average of three times per month. By the psychiatric care standards of many conformist societies, that fact alone would qualify him for a cell in the Asylum Block.”
Han shot a frown over his shoulder, but turned back to Leia with his best smirk of reassurance. “You see? I’m probably the only one in the whole Temple who receives on their channel.”
“I wouldn’t doubt that,” Leia said. She gave him a wry smile, then patted the hand grasping her arm. “But thanks—I just wish you really did know what’s going on with them.”
Now it was Han who grew serious. “Yeah. Seeing’ em slip away like this brings bad memories. Really bad memories.”
“It does,” Leia acknowledged. “But it’s not the same thing. By the time anyone realized what was going on with Jacen, he was running the Galactic Alliance.”
“Yeah, and we were the enemy,” Han agreed. “I just wish we could have stuck Jacen in a deten—”
“We would have, had there been some way to take him alive,” Leia interrupted. They didn’t turn down this lane often, but when they did, it devastated her—and she couldn’t let herself be devastated now. “Let’s just focus on the Jedi we can save.”
Han nodded. “Count me in. I don’t need anybody else’s family getting caught in the kind of plasma blast we did.”
Han was still speaking when Master Cilghal and her assistant Tekli appeared, walking between two rows of potted olbios. In their white medical robes, the pair made a somber impression: Cilghal a sad-eyed Mon Calamari with a high-domed head, Tekli a diminutive Chadra-Fan with her flap-like ears pulled tight against her head fur.
Cilghal extended a web-fingered hand first to Leia, then to Han, and spoke in her rippling Mon Calamari voice. “Princess Leia, Captain Solo, thank you for coming. I trust you were able to find someone to watch Amelia on such short notice?”
“No problem,” Han said. “Bazel is keeping an eye on her.”
“Bazel Warv?” Tekli squeaked.
“Yeah, Amelia just loves the big guy.” Han smiled. “I’m beginning to think that girl’s going to marry a Ramoan when she grows up.”
The glance that Tekli shot up at Cilghal was almost imperceptible, as was the answering