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“They’re with Abeloth,” Vestara blurted.

“What?” Ben said.

“I sensed it in my father. He—he questioned my loyalties, so I questioned his. And I was right.” She lifted her gaze and met Luke’s blue eyes evenly. “He no longer identifies with the Lost Tribe. He’s with Abeloth now—and I bet the rest of the flotilla is, too.”

“You’re sure?” Luke pressed.

She nodded. “I think … she was doing something to him.”

“Like with Taalon?” Luke recalled the metamorphosis of High Lord Taalon after he had drunk from the Fountain of Knowledge. He had started to become like Abeloth.

“Not that dramatic,” she said. “But … mentally. His mind—he wasn’t the way he used to be. I think that’s why I was able to win against him at all—because he wasn’t as focused. He was so proud of being Sith, so proud of what the Lost Tribe had accomplished. Now he’s—he was—blindly following Abeloth. And if my father succumbed, then I am certain the others did.” She looked away again, swallowing hard. “He was a strong man.”

Ben let out a slow whistle. “So now the Sith have gone from wanting to capture Abeloth to wanting to serve her,” he said. “And we’ve still got no clue as to where to start looking for her—or them.”

“The trail’s gone cold,” Luke said. “I think our best bet, for now, is to regroup and head back to Coruscant. We’ll talk to the historians, share with them everything we’ve learned. Maybe we’ve overlooked something. There are many brilliant minds at the Temple. It’s time we availed ourselves of them. Maybe they can see something we can’t.” He sighed.

Ben smiled. “It’ll be nice to get back,” he admitted. “Kinda tired of attending the Mobile Chapter of the Academy.”

“It won’t be for good,” Luke warned.

“Oh, I know. But it’ll still be nice.”

Ben also knew, though his father would not say so in front of Vestara, that Luke was concerned about the situation with the Jedi and the GA. Everything seemed to indicate that things were going smoothly with the triumvirate system that had been put into place. But it was clearly time for Grand Master Luke Skywalker to return, at least temporarily. All signs pointed to it; it seemed to be the will of the Force.

He looked back over at Vestara. She was doing her best to recover from the shock and horror of being forced to kill her own father, whom Ben knew she had loved. And, tough girl that she was, she was doing a good job. But he still knew she was shattered.

“Come on, stinky,” he said. “You need a sanisteam.”

She gave him a ghost of her old smirk. “All I have to say to that is that it’s a good thing I can block out how bad you smell.”

It was feeble jesting, but Ben was heartened by it anyway. He felt for Vestara, but believed with all his heart that what she had done here today, anguishing though it was, was a good thing. She had freed herself from Gavar Khai and his dark influence forever, and Ben had hope that she had taken a big step along the path that would eventually bring her out of the Sith shadow, into the light.

He hesitated, then held out his hand to her. She took it. Hand in hand, they moved out of the cold shadow of the dark side temple.

“Khai has failed.”

Abeloth’s voice came through loud and clear on the bridge of the Black Wave. These were not the dulcet female tones that Tola Annax was used to hearing; the voice was … liquid sounding, garbled, deep, and raised the hairs on the back of Annax’s neck. Both the sound of the voice and the words shot a thrill of apprehension through her. Ship was visible on the viewscreen, an orange-red eye with wings, seeming to glare balefully at her, and Annax shuddered inwardly. At least, she mused grimly, I don’t have to be the one actually delivering the bad news.

Abeloth still might destroy them, though, and she knew it.

“I very much regret so, yes.” Annax used the Force to keep her voice sounding calm and confident. “We lost all ten of them, some of our best Sabers.”

“A pity,” said the strange, gurgling voice. “I wish we had not. But it is no matter, is it, Captain Tola Annax?”

Relief