Star Wars_ The Approaching Storm - Alan Dean Foster [159]
“Yes, Master?”
“Sorry about the ship.”
The medic and the chief technician stood side by side on the landing platform and watched him leave. “Lightsaber burns?” Boz asked.
The medic nodded, wide-eyed.
The chief tech spat thoughtfully on the deck. “Thought so.”
The Clone Wars like a mighty hand had flung Jedi throughout the stars, leaving only a few senior Jedi Knights in the Temple at any time. Yoda, of course, as Master of the Order and military adviser to the Chancellor, was nearly always on Coruscant. Tonight only two others had joined him to hear Jai Maruk’s story: Jai Maruk’s close friend Master Ilena Xan, nicknamed Iron Hand by the students—she taught hand-to-hand combat, and her specialty was joint locks—and Jedi Council member Mace Windu, who was too intimidating for nicknames.
“We were running recon in the Outer Rim,” Jai said. “Began to think there was something funny going on in the neighborhood of the Hydian Way. Little drab transports kept popping up, like a mermyn-trail leading into and out of the Wayland region. Nothing so unusual about that, the Trade Federation has the whole region locked down … but these were popping in from strange coordinates. Deep-space vectors, not local traffic. I got a funny feeling about them, so I dressed up one of the clone transports in pirate’s colors and sent it to intercept. Turned out that little commercial shuttle had legs on it like a Neimoidian jakrab. Dropped down a burst of plasma fire and jumped to hyperspace in a heartbeat.”
Master Yoda’s wrinkled brow rose. “In a nerf’s coat, this krayt dragon was.”
“Exactly.” Master Jai Maruk glanced down at his right hand, which was trembling. An ugly char mark was burned across his palm. He regarded the hand steadily. The trembling stopped.
A young Padawan, a red-haired girl of perhaps fourteen, came into the room with a pitcher of water and some glasses on a tray. Bowing, she placed them on a low table. Master Xan poured a tumbler of water and gave it to Jai. He stared at the glassy, oozing skin on the palm of his burned hand, forced it to curl around the tumbler, and drank.
“So the Trade Federation was shipping something important into the Hydian Way,” Jai continued. “Why? Not new ordnance; we don’t have any significant troop concentrations out there. And why the disguise? They could wear their fleet colors proudly—it would scare off any pirates or casual raiders, like my poor clone troopers had pretended to be.”
“There has to be something there we aren’t supposed to know about,” Ilena said.
Mace Windu studied the lightsaber burns on Jai Maruk’s cheek. “Or someone.”
Yoda tapped out a pattern on the Council Chamber floor with his cane. “One of these krayts, followed it did you.”
“But you were caught,” Mace said.
Jai’s face tightened. “I tracked them to a rendezvous on Vjun.”
Master Yoda stirred and shook his head. The others looked to him. “Strong in the dark side, Vjun is,” he murmured. “Know you the stories?”
They looked at him blankly.
The corners of Yoda’s mouth turned down. “A trial of being old is this: remembering which thing one has said into which young ears. But he knows; I remember we spoke of it when he was only a Padawan …”
The other Jedi stared. “Who knows?” Master Xan asked.
Yoda waved the question off with his stick. “It matters not. Master Maruk, continue.”
Jai took another sip of water. “At first I remained sun-side, hidden from my krayt, but when it stayed dirtside for longer than just refueling, I had to risk following it to the surface. I made a soft landing many kilometers away, I kept my heat and IR signatures crushed down, I swear it—” He slowed to a stop. His hand was trembling again. “It doesn’t matter. She caught me.”
“She?” Master Xan asked.
“Asajj Ventress.”
A gasp came from the Padawan who had brought the water. Yoda glanced over, furrowing