Star Wars_ The Jedi Academy Trilogy 02_ Dark Apprentice - Kevin J. Anderson [104]
Kyp swallowed and knelt in the dirt. He reached out tentatively, afraid, until he let his fingertips brush the age-crumbled ashes.
He jerked his hand away, then brought it back. The spot was cold, but the coldness seemed to go away as his hands grew numb.
Kyp used the Force to scatter bits of ash, blowing clear the tiny, buckled residue that had survived the fire, an unrecognizable lump of black plasteel that might have been Vader’s helmet. Growing more desperate, Kyp increased his power, scouring away debris and leaving only a sad jumble of wires, melted plasteel, and shreds of tough cloth.
Darth Vader, former Dark Lord of the Sith, had been reduced to only pathetic scraps and nightmarish memories.
Kyp reached out to stroke the remnants. Electric tingles went through his hands. He knew he shouldn’t be touching these relics, yet he could not turn away now. Kyp had to find answers to his questions, even if he had to answer them himself.
“Darth Vader, where did you go wrong?” he asked, staring down at the fragments of armor. His voice, unused for more than a day, croaked at him.
Vader had been a monster, with the blood of billions on his hands. According to Exar Kun, Anakin Skywalker had been unprepared for the power he had touched, and it had overwhelmed him.
Kyp recognized that he had begun to walk down a similar path—but he was not so naive. Unlike Anakin Skywalker, he understood the dangers. He could guard himself. He would not be tricked by the temptations and the brutalities that had lured Vader deeper and deeper into the dark side.
Feeling cold and alone in the night, Kyp returned to the ship and took out the long cape Han Solo had given him. He wrapped the fabric around his dark jumpsuit to keep warm, then went back to sit on the barren ground by the ashes of Vader’s pyre. The peaceful sounds of the forest gradually returned, chirping and whistling around him like a lullaby.
Kyp was in no hurry. He could wait here on Endor. He needed to make sure he wasn’t kidding himself. He was no fool. He knew the dangerous edge he was walking, and it frightened him.
As he sat in peace, running his fingers along the slick, fine fabric of his cloak, Kyp thought of how his friend Han Solo had freed him from the spice mines … but even that happy thought twisted around to make him realize just how much of his life the Empire had stolen from him.
Kyp rarely recalled the diamond-edged memories of his youth, when he and his older brother Zeth had lived on the colony world of Deyer. He thought of the raft cities anchored in a complex of terraformed lakes stocked with fish.
Zeth had taken him out many times on a pleasure skimmer to sink crustacean nets or just to swim under the ocher-colored skies. His brother Zeth had long dark hair, eyes narrowed against the brightness of the sun, his body wiry and rippling with lean muscles, his skin tanned from long days spent outside.
The colonists had tried to build a perfect society on Deyer, fully democratic with every person serving a term on the council of raft towns. Unanimously, the representatives on Deyer had voted to condemn the destruction of Alderaan, to request that Emperor Palpatine rescind his New Order. They had worked through the appropriate political channels, naively believing that with their votes they could influence the Emperor’s decisions.
Instead Palpatine had crushed the “dissidents” on Deyer, overrunning the entire colony, scattering the people to various penal centers, and taking Zeth away forever.…
Kyp found his hands clenched tight, and he thought again of the powers that Exar Kun had shown him, the dark secrets that Master Skywalker refused to consider. He frowned and took a deep breath. The cool night air bit into his lungs, and he let it out slowly.
He vowed not to let Exar Kun twist him into another Vader.