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“Yes, Master Luke, where do you wish me to go?” Thul’s voice, calm as ever.

“Go to the entrance of the caves. Get Ben, Vestara, and Natua. Right now!”

“Adjusting course, Master Skywalker.”

“Thank you,” said Luke, permitting himself to feel a slight sense of relief. Just as he clicked off the comlink, a sudden vision flashed into his mind: the image of the multilegged, red-eyed creature carved onto the ancient wall. He suddenly realized what it was, and a new, horrible apprehension for Ben’s safety seized him.

Find my son, he thought desperately, as he ran with flagging strength toward where he had left the Jade Shadow.

Find my son.

THE LAVA TUNNELS OF UPEKZAR

THE CHOICE WAS MADE IN AN INSTANT.

Vestara loved Ben. The Dream Singer would not have him. And Ben would never have to know what she did for him. As certain about this as she had ever been in her life, Vestara whirled to attack. She lifted her lightsaber high, the glowing red light illuminating a face contorted in anger and determination, and brought it down.

The crimson weapon slashed through Natua’s mask.

Taken completely by surprise, the Falleen stumbled backward, turning shocked eyes on Vestara. Vestara snarled and began attacking her. To Vestara’s own shock, Natua didn’t seem affected by the pheromones.

Of course … Natua was a Falleen …

Fear shot through Vestara as Natua, recovered from the unexpectedness of the betrayal, fought back fiercely.

“I knew we could never trust a Sith!” Natua snarled as her lightsaber danced and clashed with Vestara’s.

Vestara parried and thrust and slashed, her blade making a sharp sound as it cut air and sizzled against the Jedi’s lightsaber. Natua would fall, resistance or not. She could not stand against the creature and a Sith both.

And then it happened. Natua stumbled, lowering her lightsaber, and began to shriek. She started fighting again, her blade slashing empty air, and Vestara was able to dart in easily and cut a furrow across her torso.

Natua fell to the floor, flailing and screaming, her lightsaber making futile burns in the rock. Vestara stood over the spasming body, her own lightsaber lowered, sweat sheening her brow. She met the creature’s compound eyes and felt their kinship. It dipped its head in—gratitude? acknowledgment?—and moved forward onto Natua. Its feelers extended, running over the thrashing form in a vile caress as it fed deeply on the Falleen’s terror.

Vestara could tell the exact minute when Natua’s mind finally snapped. Her eyes widened, and then her body grew limp, though she continued to breathe. The creature looked up from its feeding and regarded Vestara.

… Ssssssiiithhh … Cooooome …

Vestara heard movement behind her and a soft groan. Ben was awakening. With a slow smile, she leapt at the Dream Singer, attacking it with all her strength.

“Vestara!” And then Ben was on his feet, stumbling into the fray.

He was safe. Natua was dead.

It couldn’t possibly have gone more smoothly.

The terror still shuddered through Ben, even as his body struggled against a second bout of unconsciousness. He had no way of knowing what was real and what was an illusion, but after he realized what was happening to him, Ben knew what he had to do. What his father had taught him, what his namesake had taught his father.

Trust your feelings.

He trusted his love for Vestara. He trusted his friendship with Natua. And he trusted that if he was determined enough, strong enough, he could still fight and not fall prey to the terror that seemed to flow through his blood with every beat of his rapidly pounding heart.

He couldn’t tell if it was truly a monster, or another sentient being, or what. He couldn’t tell if Natua was really dead, couldn’t tell if that was really a lightsaber slash across her torso or part of the pheromone-induced illusion. But he could feel the evil roiling off his adversary, and could no longer sense Natua in the Force, and that was enough for him to charge in fighting.

The ground suddenly