Star Wars_ The Jedi Academy Trilogy 03_ Champions of the Force - Kevin J. Anderson [119]
The wind whistled cold around his exposed skin. The music sounded beautiful.
Nearby, a lovely woman decked in jewels and bright primary colors clung to a haggard, weary-looking young man, who slumped in his chair. Ackbar glanced at them, then bent close to Winter, lowering his voice. “Could you tell me who those people are? I do not recognize them.”
Winter studied the pair, and her face took on a distant look as if she were sifting through various files in her mind. “I believe that is the Duchess Mistal from Dargul and her consort.”
“I wonder why he appears to be so miserable,” Ackbar said.
“Perhaps he is not a music lover,” Winter suggested, then settled into an awkward silence. Finally she spoke again. “I am glad you decided to return to the service of the New Republic, Ackbar. You have much to give to the future of our government.”
Ackbar nodded solemnly, looking at the human woman who had served so many years as Leia’s close personal aid.
“I am pleased that you yourself have been freed from exile on Anoth,” he said. “I was concerned for you. Your personal talents and perceptiveness are greatly needed, and I have always valued your input.”
Ackbar could see that Winter masked her expression carefully, allowing just a glimmer of a smile to show that she was holding back as much as he was.
“Good, then,” Winter said. “We shall be seeing a great deal more of each other in times to come.”
Ackbar nodded to her. “I would enjoy that.”
• • •
Qwi Xux listened longingly to the music of the winds. The notes rose higher, dipped lower, wove around themselves to form a complex, never-to-be-repeated melody, since the Vors forbade any recording of their storm concerts, and no two were ever alike.
The flying creatures flitted up and down the shafts of crystal, opening hatchways, covering small holes with their hands or bodies as they shaped the symphony, building it as the storm grew closer.
The music seemed to tell Qwi’s own life story. It struck her emotional chords, blowing through the hollows and crevices of her heart so that she heard the feelings she had experienced through her life: her childhood loss, her agonized training, her brainwashed imprisonment for years in Maw Installation … and her sudden thrill of freedom as she met members of the New Republic who helped her escape … then Wedge Antilles, who had opened up more new worlds for her, bright dawns she had never before imagined.
Now, after her time of healing, after she had returned to Maw Installation and walked along the old corridors, set foot in her former laboratory—Qwi no longer chose to mourn those lost memories.
When the misguided Kyp Durron had erased her thoughts, it had been a violent act. But, in hindsight, she thought he might have inadvertently done her a great favor. She did not wish to remember her devastating weapons work. She felt as if she had been reborn, given a new chance to start a life with Wedge, unencumbered by dark thoughts of the deadly inventions she had helped to create.
The music continued: hollow and mournful, then joyous and uplifting, in an eerie counterpoint like nothing she had ever experienced before.
“Would you like to go back to Ithor with me?” Wedge bent close and whispered in her ear. “We can do our vacation right this time.”
Qwi smiled back at him. The idea of returning to the lush jungle world sounded wonderful to her: the self-contained cities drifting over the treetops, and the peaceful alien people. The experience would do much to ease the pain from the memories she had lost there.
“You mean we’d no longer have to hide from Imperial spies? From Admiral Daala?”
“We wouldn’t have to worry about any of that,” Wedge