Star Wars_ Fate of the Jedi 07_ Conviction - Aaron Allston [28]
A moment later a woman’s voice, buzzy and poppy, sounded from the antiquated device. “What is it?”
“We’re looking for someone called Sel.”
The voice at the other end did not reply, but the stairs, skeletal durasteel ones painted in alternating stripes of black and yellow for high visibility, unfolded. When they were done, the lowest one was still a quarter meter above the ground. Luke led the others up into the front-door alcove, and the door slid to one side, opening for them.
Beyond was a small antechamber, and as soon as the outer door slid shut, the inner one opened.
Next was a medium-sized all-purpose room. Ben saw tight-weave green carpet, a stuffed sofa and chair in tan, a long white duraplasttopped table that could have served for family dinners or medical examinations, walls lined with shelves stacked with piles of flimsi printouts, a door in the center of the back wall. By his calculation, this chamber would take up half the ground floor, with a much smaller second floor, under the apex of the dome, above the door they now faced.
That door opened and a woman emerged, wiping her hands on an off-white cloth. She was lean and fit but elderly, with white hair cut in a flat-topped hairstyle. Her eyes were a light blue, her skin fair. She wore a utilitarian burgundy jumpsuit. She must, Ben decided, have been beautiful in her youth; she was beautiful now.
She gave the three visitors a smile, showing white, even teeth. “I’m Sel.”
Luke pulled his hood back and removed his goggles. “I’m—”
“Luke Skywalker.” Sel dropped her drying cloth on one end of the white table and advanced, her hand outstretched. “An honor.”
Luke shook her hand. He turned to indicate Ben and Vestara. “And this is …” But his voice trailed off and he turned back to Sel, his eyes narrowing—not in anger, Ben thought, but in consideration, perhaps suspicion.
“Sel.” Luke’s voice turned just a little incredulous. “Teselda?”
The old woman nodded, her smile half fading away. “That’s my full given name, yes.”
“You don’t remember me?”
“I know who you are.”
“No, from before. From thirty years ago. You knew me as Owen Lars.”
“Ah.” Sel gave him a blank look. “I’ll take your word for it. There are things I don’t recall.”
Finally, Luke remembered to finish introductions. “This is my son, Ben Skywalker, and our companion, Vestara Khai. Ben, Vestara, this is Teselda … perhaps the galaxy’s oldest surviving Jedi.”
LUKE ACCEPTED SEL’S INVITATION TO SETTLE HIMSELF ON THE SOFA, but declined her offer of caf or wine. With the most imperceptible of gestures, he indicated to Ben and Vestara, sitting respectively on the sofa beside him and in the stuffed chair, that they should decline, too, and they did.
Sel settled in a chair at the table and turned to the two teenagers. “Master Skywalker is stretching a point, I’m afraid. I’m no longer a Jedi. Have not been since before I can remember. If anything, I’m a Theran Listener now, and a healer. And sometimes, the one the Oldtimers send strangers to in order to see if I can sort them out.”
Ben shook his head. “You weren’t really represented in my father’s accounts of what happened on Nam Chorios all those years ago.”
Sel glanced at Luke. He thought the look carried just a touch of gratitude. “I doubt I made a good impression.” She fell silent for a moment. “But yes, I was a Jedi once. I have the faintest memories of some happy times on Coruscant … As a young Jedi Knight I was sent here with a senior Jedi Knight named Beldorian.”
“Him I’ve heard of. The Hutt Jedi.”
“This world is toxic for Force-users if they stay long enough, unless they have a very rare level of emotional grounding. Which the Listeners do, through their contact with the tsils. But Beldorian was too much of a Hutt, fighting the greedier, more self-indulgent side of his nature while a Jedi, succumbing to it here. I was too young, too ignorant, too inexperienced; I hadn’t attained sufficient skill even to make a lightsaber. I fell to the dark side … and then to insanity.” Sel’s tone was oddly light,