Star Wars_ Fate of the Jedi 06_ Vortex - Denning Troy [77]
“Sith,” Ben whispered. “Probably chasing Vestara.”
“Or wanting us to think they are,” Luke replied. He pulled a thermal detonator off his equipment harness and started back up the bank. “Go prep the Emiax.”
Ben grabbed his elbow. “Dad … no.”
Luke looked back, saw the concern in his son’s eyes, and sighed. “You’re worried about the girl?”
“I saw Taalon hit her during the fight,” Ben said. “They might believe her interference was on purpose.”
“If they believed that, she’d be dead already,” Luke replied. “Ben, I know you like bringing pretty girls to the light side, but Vestara isn’t like Tahiri. She was raised Sith.”
“Dad, that Force lightning was meant for someone, and it wasn’t us,” Ben replied. “It has to be Vestara.”
“No argument there. They’re trying to set her up to infiltrate.”
“They already did that,” Ben replied. “How many times do you think they’re going to use the same old trick?”
“Until we quit falling for it.”
Ben winced, but seemed to recognize the truth of what Luke was saying and nodded. “Okay, maybe it is the same trick,” he admitted. “But it doesn’t matter. Vestara is still a Sith, she still knows where Kesh is, and that makes her the best intelligence we have on the enemy. Can we really afford to give that up?”
Luke dropped his chin in surrender. “I suppose not,” he admitted. “But I’m not taking a chance with that girl. Any false moves and—”
“I know: blast her.” Ben nodded. “I just think she deserves a chance.”
“A last chance.” Luke returned the detonator to his equipment harness, then pointed his son toward Emiax again. “You’re going to have to bypass hatch security, so try to enter from the far side of the ship. It may buy you a couple of extra minutes if the Sith arrive before you’re in.”
“Will do,” Ben said, smiling. “That’s what I admire about you, Dad.”
“Always thinking?”
Ben shook his head. “So much confidence in your son.” He started down the bank in leaps in bounds. “How long do you think it’ll take me to pop a hatch lock older than you are?”
Luke would have made a retort about older locks being better engineered, but his audience was already at the bottom of the bank. He returned the detonator to his equipment harness, watching as his son rushed across the beach toward the Emiax. The young Jedi’s robes were ripped open, revealing an entire flank and hip stained brown with dried blood, and a puckered line showed where the wound had been closed with first-aid glue. The reminder of how close Ben had come to being killed made Luke ache with fear, but it also filled him with tremendous pride to see his son handling the injury with such humor and grace. And—though he remained convinced that forbearance was wasted on Vestara or any of the Lost Tribe Sith—Luke could not help admiring the young man’s compassion and determination to give others a second chance, or even a third.
Luke pulled his blaster, then crawled up over the bank and took a hiding place in the undergrowth. The jungle remained still, and for several minutes he lay smelling the musty soil, half expecting his ankle to cramp beneath the crushing pain of a constrictor vine, or his throat to fill with the venomous blossom of a fangthorn. But nothing attacked, and he was smart enough to understand just how frightening that was. Abeloth had played them, Jedi and Sith alike.
How far back her plan extended, Luke could not say. Perhaps escape had been her intention even during the war against the Yuuzhan Vong, when she had reached out to Ben and the other younglings at Shelter. Or perhaps she had fled her planet only in desperation, to escape those who had come to enslave or destroy her. The only thing Luke knew for certain was that her “death” had been a ruse—and that now she was aboard the Jade Shadow, flying out into the galaxy, alone and free.
Luke began to worry that the