Star Wars_ Fate of the Jedi 06_ Vortex - Denning Troy [129]
Something terrible had just happened on Coruscant. Luke had felt it through the Force, a wave of sorrow so sharp and feral it had sent a physical jolt through his entire body. The aftershocks were still coming as others learned of the event—ripples of grief and disbelief and guilt that left Luke feeling worried and forlorn. There had been a death on Coruscant, a loss so profound it had rocked the entire Jedi Order. Exactly who was gone or how, it was impossible to know … but it did seem clear that Luke could no longer count on reinforcements.
Not that it mattered. The Sith were coming now, and Luke had only a single Jedi Knight—Ben—to stand at his side. With the fate of the Jedi and their own lives hanging by a thread, the Skywalkers had run out of time, and whether they stood or ran, the outcome looked the same. Abeloth was free, the Lost Tribe was on the loose, and all that stood between them and the rest of the galaxy were a Jedi Master and his son.
This time, Luke did not know if it would be enough.
Turning his back to the sea and the white-cliffed island, Luke crossed the beach to the tree-filled ravine where he had hidden the Jade Shadow beneath a camouflage net. The precaution had kept any Pydyrians from coming to investigate, but he knew better than to think it could hide them from the Fallanassi or the Sith. Akanah would know where he was by the disturbance his presence caused in the White Current, and the Sith had only to reach out to Vestara to locate them.
Luke ducked under the netting—which he covered with fresh boughs every day—and ascended the boarding ramp into the Shadow. He found Ben slumped in the salon, his glazed eyes fixed on an old episode of Starjaxx playing on the holovid. His pale face was covered in blue blisters and weeping sores, and his unkempt hair had not been washed in a week. Luke felt guilty for not showing Ben how to see through the Fallanassi illusion, but Vestara had proven much easier to control after she discovered the rips in their hazard suits and started to believe that she and Ben were infected, and Luke doubted that she would have continued to believe in the illusion if she was the only one who seemed to be getting ill. She had already asked several times why he didn’t seem sick, and “I’m a Jedi Master” was starting to wear thin as a convincing reply.
“Where’s Vestara?” Luke asked.
Ben raised a lethargic arm and pointed aft. “In her cabin. I don’t know how long she has left, Dad. She’s pretty sick.”
“Good,” Luke said, starting toward forward. “Come with me.”
“Okay.” Ben braced his hands on the edge of the couch and pushed himself more or less upright. “But, I mean, she’s dying. Aren’t you being kind of harsh?”
“Not what I meant.” Luke jerked his thumb toward the flight deck. “Come on. I’ll explain as we fire up.”
If Ben did not exactly leap up, he at least made it to his feet. “Fire up? Dad, we can’t break quarantine. If we take this disease off Pydyr—”
“We won’t, son, I promise you that.” Luke’s voice had softened, for he could not help feeling proud of Ben’s selflessness in the face of his own death. “But we’ve got trouble coming, and I want us ready—”
“Trouble?” The question came from the back of the salon, where Vestara had appeared still belting her robe. Like Ben, she was covered in blisters and sores, and she looked as though it had taken all her strength simply to rise and dress herself. “I thought I felt something.”
“I think we both know what you felt,” Luke said, not bothering to hide his irritation. “Come with us.”
Vestara remained where she was. “Master Skywalker, I have no idea—”
“I said come,” Luke interrupted, dropping his hand to his blaster. “If I need to ask again, I’m going to do it with a stun bolt.”
Vestara’s eyes widened. “No problem.”
Luke led the way to the flight deck. Through the camouflage netting, he could make out a large shape low on