Star Wars_ Fate of the Jedi 02_ Omen - Christie Golden [3]
Let Ship remain isolated on Ziost. It would find no one to serve, no one to permit it to do that which it was designed for.
In her irritation, Dician allowed the thought to comfort her.
JEDI TEMPLE, CORUSCANT
JYSELLA HORN FELT LIKE A PART OF HER, LIKE HER BROTHER, WAS encased in carbonite. Frozen and isolated and unable to move. Yet somehow she forced her legs to carry her forward, toward the Jedi Temple that would, she hoped, have some answers for her today.
Ever since the inexplicable and horrifying moment when her older brother, Valin, had turned on their parents, eyes wild, teeth bared, screaming nonsense, part of the youngest Horn had gone with him into the cold prison in which he was now encased.
She had always been the baby of the family, the tagalong, the me too! little sister. Three standard years separated the Horn siblings, and it had only been recently that they had begun relating as friends and not just as brother and sister. Jysella had always idolized her easygoing, levelheaded big brother. The lives of her rather famous family had been fraught with danger almost since the day she was born. Often, she and Valin had been separated from their parents and even from each other for long periods of time. Three Jedi in a family did not make for much time spent doing traditional familial things. But the challenges and the separation had always brought them closer, not driven wedges between them.
Jysella shivered. Cold, she was cold; he was cold and in carbonite, her kind, grinning brother, the gentle and loved one, whom they said was criminally insane. He had attacked both their parents, claiming that they had somehow been stolen away and replaced by fakes. How could such a thing have happened? But it had, and Valin had been caught, arrested, and imprisoned in the most horrible way possible.
Bazel Warv laid a heavy jade-green hand on her narrow shoulder as they climbed up the long ceremonial staircase of the Processional Way toward the Jedi Temple. A series of grunts and squeaks issued from his tusked mouth as he offered reassurances.
“I know, I know,” Jysella said to the Ramoan with a sigh. His small, piggy eyes were full of compassion. “Everyone’s doing their best. It doesn’t make it any easier.”
Bazel, “Barv” as his little circle of close friends called him, considered this and nodded agreement. He squeezed her shoulder, putting all his concern into the gesture, and Jysella forced herself not to wince. Around his fellow Jedi, Bazel tended to forget how strong he was. With little Amelia, the young war orphan who had been adopted by Han and Leia Solo, though, the Ramoan was gentle to a fault. Amelia often went for rides on Barv’s huge shoulders, laughing and giggling. The little girl was fond of everyone in “the Unit,” as Barv, Yaqeel Saav’etu, Valin, and Jysella called themselves.
“The big guy’s right,” Yaqeel, walking on Jysella’s other side, commented. “Don’t underestimate what a group of top Jedi can do when their backs are against the wall.”
Jysella had to force herself again to refrain from wincing, this time from the coolness of the Bothan’s words. She’d known both Barv and Yaqeel for a long time. They had been Valin’s friends first, but had drawn Jysella happily into the circle as she grew older.
Yaqeel used words in the same controlled, deadly way she used her lightsaber. Normally the acerbic, cynical comments she was fond of drawling didn’t bother Jysella in the slightest. But now she felt … raw. Like her emotional skin had been flayed away, and even the slightest breeze caused agony.
Barv oinked, annoyed, and Yaqeel’s ear twitched slightly. Barv was convinced that the Jedi were working hard to find a cure for Valin’s condition not because their own necks were threatened, but because it was the right thing to do. Because that’s what Jedi did.
Tears of gratitude stung Jysella’s eyes as she smiled at her friend. Yaqeel’s ears lowered slightly, a sign that Barv’s simple faith had gotten to her as well. That wasn’t unusual. Everyone—well, everyone except dear, slightly