Star Wars_ Legacy of the Force 04_ Exile - Aaron Allston [46]
“This is the Amulet of Kalara,” Jacen continued. “Now the important thing. Ben, if this gets into the hands of a Force-sensitive who knows the secrets of its activation, we’re all in trouble. Because while such a person has it activated, he will be invisible in the Force. Even his use of the Force is invisible to other Force-users.
“Think about what that means. He’ll be like one of the Yuuzhan Vong warriors, but can be a normal person—human, Rodian, Bith, whatever. He would be a tremendous danger to your parents, the order, me, everyone and everything.
“If you find the amulet in its display case, wonderful. We’re going to give you a replacement to leave for the real thing. Mission accomplished.
“But if anyone gets his hands on it…” The image switched back to Jacen, and he was even more grave than before. “You have to assume that he knows its secret, that he’s a powerful Dark Jedi or other Force-sensitive, and that he can activate it at any moment. Ben, you have to eliminate him before he eliminates you. I’m sorry, but it’s true.”
A weight settled in Ben’s stomach. What Jacen was suggesting sounded like, under the right circumstances, it could be murder. But if the amulet was what Jacen said, it had to be put in the right hands. Had to be.
“So. At any point in the next two nights, you need to visit the Temple’s fourth-level exercise changing room. Open the leftmost locker, combination six-eight-six, and retrieve the packet of clothes and items there…”
chapter nine
Clad in nondescript rust-colored garments and a hooded green traveler’s rain drape that would remind no one of Jedi robes, Ben shut the locker, hit the button to lock it again, and dropped his lightsaber into a belt pouch. He forced his shoulders down. He’d been edgy since entering the chamber, worried that someone would walk in on him as he changed, but it hadn’t happened. He’d chosen the quietest hour of the night, and had chosen correctly.
He moved to the loading slot for the laundry chute. It was large enough to accommodate the cloth bags full of dirty clothes, labeled with the names of their owners, that were delivered to the laundry facilities. That meant that it was large enough for children, too. Rumor had it that children couldn’t get through the chutes into the automated laundry facilities, but just exactly how they were prevented from descending was a mystery; apprentices who’d tried it told mutually contradictory stories of greased chutes, robot defenders with electrocuting or tickling attachments on their arms, barrel-shaped chambers that whirled offenders until they were sick, stern talkings-to, and extra chores.
Ben pulled the lever, opening the drum into which bags were to be placed, and crawled in. It was a tight fit. At thirteen, almost fourteen, he was physically just a little large for such a stunt. He used his body weight to roll the drum closed, which opened the chute access immediately beneath him. Bracing himself with arms and legs so as not to fall, he pulled out a glow rod and peered into the depths.
“That’s a chute, all right,” he said. It was a square plasteel hole leading into the depths of the Temple.
He maneuvered himself to enter the chute feetfirst and braced them against the walls. Then he focused his attention on what he was doing, calling on the Force to allow him to dictate the exact amount of friction his feet would experience against the chute sides.
And he dropped.
He did not so much fall as descend in a controlled skid. As he descended, he could see the edges of the individual plasteel panels that made up the chute.
He passed a sensor. What would it be sensing? he wondered. Nothing right now—Seha or some other ally of Jacen’s would have disabled it.
Below him, he saw discolored patches along the chute sides. He increased the friction to slow down and descended past them at the pace of a crawling insect.
On one side was a panel with a hinge at the bottom. He poked it as he passed, and it swung freely open, then shut again.
Directly opposite it was inset a small but ordinary repulsor