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Everyone got what they wanted … everyone but Callista Ming, who had come here to learn to reconnect with the Force, and had failed. Callista, now part of the being called Abeloth. Callista, whose memories of the resources this world had to offer had doubtless led to Abeloth’s choice to come here.

Luke caught Vestara’s eye. “By the way … no using the Force.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “What?”

“You don’t draw on the Force here, period. Passive uses, perhaps. Nothing as active as giving yourself a boost of running speed or a few extra meters of jump distance. If you do, disaster results. People die.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s a unique property of the Nam Chorios environment. The crystals that lace the planet’s crust magnify Force usage … and redirect it in random and destructive ways. You augment one of your leaps here, and somewhere else, a storm rises that causes catastrophe in a farmstead or a town.”

“I wish you’d mentioned that before.”

He managed a smile. “Consider it a test of discipline.”

* * *

Luke couldn’t tell how much Hweg Shul, the planetary capital, had changed in all these years. As the shuttle descended into the lower atmosphere, winds battered it, sending it slewing, and the winter storm they entered, scores or hundreds of kilometers in length and breadth, stirred up the planetary surface into a dust storm that obscured the town.

The thrusters and repulsorlifts of the Lambda whined as its pilot battled the winds, fought to keep control. Luke saw Ben and Vestara grimace. He felt the same way they did. From what he could tell of the winds they were experiencing and the pilot’s control, the shuttle passengers were in good hands … but no pilot ever, ever wanted to be a passenger, especially in difficult circumstances. Every pilot wanted to be in control.

The businessman in the shiny suit, sitting one row up from Luke and on the other side of the aisle, began to change color. From the pocket under his armrest, he extracted an opaque flimsiplast bag designed to capture the contents of his stomach should they decide to escape. He did not use it immediately, just held it before him and contemplated it sorrowfully. He occasionally looked at the other passengers and seemed to grow even more unhappy as he realized that they were not as miserable as he was.

Then the thrusters cut out. Through the Force, Luke felt alarm from the businessman, none from the cockpit or the woman from Duro.

The shuttle turned slowly. Luke’s view of driving wind and abrasive crystalline dust in a single, nearly opaque sheet was blocked as the Lambda’s wings lifted into landing position. Then the shuttle thumped to a comparatively gentle landing. It began to rock at intervals under the pressure exerted by particularly hard gusts of wind.

The pilot’s voice, that of a female, probably human, rich with humor, came over the intercom. “Koval Transport would like to welcome you to Nam Chorios, vacation capital of the Meridian sector, and Hweg Shul Spaceport. Please prepare to debark via the main boarding ramp. The temperature outside is negative ten degrees, but windchill brings it down to a far more comfortable negative forty-two, so please watch that exposed flesh.”

Moments later, hoods up and eyes protected by goggles, the three of them marched down the boarding ramp. The bitingly cold wind tried to topple them as soon as it began to flow past their ankles. Outside, it plastered their insufficiently insulated clothes and cloaks against their bodies. All three instinctively turned their backs to it. In the near distance, they could see lights limning what had to be the main terminal dome, but the skin of the dome itself was invisible, obscured by the driving dust.

Ben managed a wintry smile. He had to raise his voice to a shout to be heard over the wind. “This planet is a hellhole.” His breath emerged as a foggy plume that was ripped away from him.

Luke shouldered his carry bag and turned toward the terminal. “You’re spoiled. I grew up on a planet like this.”

“Not including Death Seed, Dad.”

“Well,