Star Wars_ I, Jedi - Michael A. Stackpole [215]
Luke gave me a sidelong glance, but I nodded reassuringly to him. “He knows what he is doing.”
The Saarai-kaar’s voice sagged beneath the weight of suspicion. “What will you do?”
“The Caamasi have a gift in which significant memories become treasured and, in special circumstances, can be shared. We discovered, as a people, that we could share them among ourselves, yet with non-Caamasi species, they could only be communicated to the Jedi. I think it is their connection to the Force that allows this, and any of us who have come to truly know a Jedi are privileged to be able to share these memnii with the Jedi.”
He twisted back and caught my right hand in his left, dragging me forward. “I have come to know this man under a variety of identities, one of them being Keiran Halcyon; the grandson of Nejaa Halcyon. Nejaa is the Halcyon Jedi you accuse of being a murderer and the Caamasi who was with him that day was my uncle. My uncle passed to me the memnis of what happened here, sharing with me the memory of his friend’s death. This is the point of view I have of those events, and I would share it with you in hopes you would understand the other point of view.”
The Saarai-kaar held her hand out to Elegos. “Show me the memory.”
Elegos stood but did not relinquish his grip on my hand. “I do not know you well enough for me to transfer the memory to you. I do know Keiran well enough to share with him, and you know he can project it into your mind.”
“You want me to trust a Halcyon, too? You ask too much, Caamasi.”
Elegos looked down at her. “Is it too much to ask when it could free you of a burden you have carried for over forty years? Is it too much to ask when he has not slain you nor your companions, and yet could easily have done so—bearing in mind this is the purpose you claim he has come for? Your caution is admirable, but do not let it be a barrier to a greater truth.”
She hesitated, then nodded once. “What I will see, I will consider.”
“Good.” Elegos looked at me. “Prepare yourself.”
“Am I sending just to her, or do I include Master Skywalker and her apprentices?”
Luke smiled. “I would be honored to share that memory.”
The Saarai-kaar’s eyes tightened, then she nodded. “Let them see.”
“Okay.” I set myself. “Ready, I guess.”
I felt a tingle run through my hand and up into my brain. I touched the Force and entwined it with what I was getting from Elegos, then pushed it out toward the others in the room. I felt contact with all of them, some hot and some oh so cold. I just served as a conduit and watched the memnis pour through my mind.
Even if I had intended to edit and modify it, I doubt I could have. Since what I was seeing came through Caamasi eyes, and was wrapped up in Caamasi kinesthetics and senses, any changes I had made would have been patently human and obviously artificial. Moreover, the intensity and volume of sensory input overwhelmed me. I saw and heard, tasted, touched and smelled—boy, did I smell things—so much that I couldn’t categorize it. The memnis was like a holovid presentation so complex that only by watching it again and again could I begin to grapple with all of the elements.
I found myself in Ylenic It’kla’s flesh, with his fellow Jedi on either side of him. My grandfather he classified as Spicewood—he knew his name, of course, but the Caamasi’s acute sense of smell led him to store identity information with scent being more important than name. The other Jedi he identified as Desertwind. I heard Desertwind warn the dark Jedi we faced, and all of our replies, the same as in my dream. Then the battle was joined, blades flashing, barking, sparking and hissing.
Moving into combat in the Caamasi’s body felt thoroughly alien. His gangling limbs and deceptively slender muscles contained incredible power and grace. His feet shuffled through the dust, always keeping us in balance, with our legs ready to propel me forward in a strike. I watched my foe come in, watched her flick her blade this way and that, probing my defenses. I could tell she had some skill,