Into the Void: Star Wars (Dawn of the Jedi) (3 page)

For an instant Lanoree felt a flood of emotion that surprised her. She remembered
her father’s tricks from when she and Dal were children—how he would pull objects
out of thin air, turn one thing into another. Back then, she’d believed he was using
mastery of the Force, but he had told her that there were some things not even the
Force could do.
Tricks
, he’d said.
I’m merely fooling your senses, not touching them with my own
.

“And how is he?” Lanoree asked.

“He’s fine,” Xiang said, her red skin creasing with a smile. “He and your mother send
their best wishes. They’d hoped you could visit them, but given the circumstances,
they understand why that would be difficult.”

“Circumstances?”

Xiang glanced sidelong at Lha-Mi and then back at Lanoree. When she spoke again, it
was not to answer her query. “We have a mission for you. It’s … delicate. And extremely
important.”

Lanoree sensed a shift in the room’s atmosphere. For a few moments they sat in almost
complete silence—Temple Master Lha-Mi, five other Je’daii Masters, and her. Air-conditioning
hummed, and
through the chair she could feel the deeper, more insistent vibration of the Peacemaker’s
power sources. Her own breath was loud. Her heart beat the moments by. The Force flowed
through and around her, and she felt history pivoting on this moment—her own history
and story, and that of the Je’daii civilization as well.

Something staggering was going to happen.

“Why do you choose me?” she asked softly. “There are many other Rangers, all across
the system. Some much closer than me. It’s taken me nineteen days to reach here from
Obri.”

“Two reasons,” Xiang said. “First, you’re particularly suited to the investigations
required. Your time on Kalimahr brokering the Hang Layden deal displayed your sensitivity
in dealing with inhabitants on the settled worlds. Your actions on Nox saved many
lives. And your defusing of the Wookiee land wars on Ska Gora probably prevented a
civil war.”

“It was hardly a defusing,” Lanoree said.

“The deaths were unfortunate,” Lha-Mi said, “but they prevented countless more.”

Lanoree thought of the giant apex trees aflame, countless burning leaves drifting
in the vicious winds that sometimes stirred the jungles there, the sound of millennia-old
tree trunks splitting and rupturing in the intense firestorm, and the screams of dying
Wookiees. And she thought of her finger on the triggers of her laser cannons, raised
and yet more than ready to fire again.
It was me or them
, she thought whenever the dream haunted her, and she knew that to be true. She had
tried everything else
—everything
—but in the end, diplomacy gave way to blood. Yet each time she dreamed, the Force
was in turmoil within her, dark and light vying for supremacy. Light tortured her
with those memories. Dark would let her settle easy.

“You saved tens of thousands,” Xiang said. “Maybe more. The Wookiee warlord Gharcanna
had to be stopped.”

“I only wish he had not fought to the end.” Lanoree glanced at the Wookiee Master
and he nodded slowly, never taking his eyes from hers. He had great pride, and carried
his sadness well.

“You said two reasons,” Lanoree said.

“Yes.” Xiang seemed suddenly uncomfortable, shifting in her seat.

“Perhaps I should relay the rest of the information,” Lha-Mi said.
“The mission first. The threat that has risen against the Je’daii, and perhaps even
Tython itself. And when you know that, you will understand why we have chosen you.”

“Of course,” Lanoree said. “I’m honored to be here, and keen to hear. Any threat against
Tython is a threat against everything I love.”

“Everything we
all
love,” Lha-Mi said. “For ten thousand years we have studied the Force and developed
our society around and within it. Wars and conflicts have come and gone. We strive
to keep the dark and the light, Bogan and Ashla, forever in balance. But now … now
there is something that might destroy us all.

“One man. And his dreams. Dreams to leave the Tythan system and travel out into the
galaxy. Many people desire to do so, and it’s something I understand. However settled
we are in this system, any educated being knows that our history lies out there, beyond
everything we now know and understand. But this man seeks another route.”

“What other route?” Lanoree asked. Her skin prickled with fear.

“A hypergate,” Lha-Mi said.

“But there is no hypergate on Tython,” Lanoree said, “only tales of one deep in the
Old City, but they’re just that. Tales.”

“Tales,” Lha-Mi said, his eyes heavy, beard drooping as he lowered his head. “But
some people will chase a tale as far and hard as they can, and seek to make it real.
We have intelligence that this man is doing such a thing. He believes that there’s
a hypergate deep beneath the ruins of the Old City on the continent of Talss. He seeks
to activate it.”

“How?” she asked.

“A device,” Lha-Mi said. “We don’t know its nature or its design. But our source tells
us it will be fueled by dark matter, harnessed through arcane means. Forbidden. Dreaded.
The most dangerous element known to us, and which no Je’daii would ever dare attempt
to capture or create.”

“But if there’s no hypergate—”

“Tales,” Lha-Mi said again. “He chases a legend. But whether it exists or not is irrelevant.
The threat is the dark matter he intends using to try to initiate the supposed gateway.
It could …” He trailed off and looked to his side.

“It could destroy Tython,” Dam-Powl said. “Exposing dark matter to normal matter would
be cataclysmic. It would create a black hole, swallowing Tython in a heartbeat. The
rest of the system, too.”

“And if there
is
a hypergate, and it
does
work?”

Silence for a while. And then one of the three Masters she did not know spoke, her
first and last words of the meeting. “Then the danger to the Je’daii would be very
different but equally severe.”

“So you see the dire threat we face,” Lha-Mi said.

“Just one man? So arrest him.”

“We don’t know where he is. We don’t even know which planet he’s on.”

“The little intelligence you have is sound?” Lanoree asked, but she already knew the
answer to that. Such a gathering of Je’daii Masters for this purpose would not have
taken place otherwise.

“We have no reason to doubt it,” Lha-Mi said, “and every reason to fear. If it does
transpire that the threat is not as severe as it appears, then that’s a good thing.
All we waste is time.”

“But the hypergate,” Lanoree said. “Protect it. Guard it.”

Lha-Mi leaned forward across the table. With a blink he closed off the cabin—air-conditioning
ceased; the door slammed shut and locked. “The hypergate is a tale,” he said. “That
is all.”

Lanoree nodded. But she also knew that talking about a simple story would surely not
require such care and such an arrangement as this.
For later
, she thought, guarding her thoughts.

“And now to why it’s you we’ve chosen for the mission,” Xiang said. “The man is Dalien
Brock, your brother.”

Lanoree reeled. She never suffered from space sickness—the Force settled her, as it
did all Je’daii—but she seemed to sway in her seat, though she did not move; dizziness
swept through her, though the Peacemaker was as stable as the ground it rested upon.

“No,” she said, frowning. “Dalien died nine years ago.”

“You found no body,” Xiang said.

“I found his clothing. Shredded. Bloodied.”

“We have no reason to doubt our sources,” Lha-Mi said.

“And I have no reason to believe them!” Lanoree said.

Silence in the room. A loaded hush.

“Your reason is that we order this,” Lha-Mi said. “Your reason is
any small element of doubt that exists over your brother’s death. Your reason is that,
if this is true, he might be a threat to Tython. Your brother might destroy everything
you love.”

He fled, I found his clothes, down, down deep in the—the Old City
.

“You see?” Lha-Mi asked as if reading her thoughts. For all Lanoree knew he had, and
she did not question that. He was a Temple Master, after all, and she only a Ranger.
Confused as she was, she could not help her thoughts betraying her.

“He always looked to the stars,” Lanoree said softly.

“We hear whispers of an organization, a loose collection of people, calling themselves
Stargazers.”

“Yes,” Lanoree said, remembering her little brother always looking outward to the
depths of space as she looked inward.

“Find your brother,” Lha-Mi said. “Bring him back to Tython. Stop his foolish schemes.”

“He won’t come back,” Lanoree said. “If it really is him, he’ll never return after
so long. So young when he died, but even then he was growing to …”

“To hate the Je’daii,” Xiang said. “All the more reason to bring him back to us.”

“And if he refuses?”

“You are a Je’daii Ranger,” Lha-Mi said. And in a way, Lanoree knew that was answer
enough.

“I need everything you know.”

“It’s already being downloaded to your ship’s computer.”

Lanoree nodded, unsurprised at their forwardness. They’d known that she could not
say no.

“This is a covert operation,” Xiang said. “Rumors of the hypergate persist, but the
knowledge that someone is trying to initiate it might cause panic. We could send a
much larger force against Dalien, but that would be much more visible.”

“And there’s a deeper truth,” Lha-Mi said.

“You don’t want people supporting his cause,” Lanoree said. “If news of what he plans
spreads, many more might attempt to initiate the gate. More devices. More dark matter.”

Lha-Mi smiled and nodded. “You are perceptive and wise, Lanoree. The threat is severe.
We are relying on you.”

“Flattery, Master?” Lanoree said, her voice lighter. A ripple of laughter passed around
the assembled Je’daii Masters.

“Honesty,” Lha-Mi said. He grew serious once again, and that was a shame. A smile
suited him.

“As ever, I’ll give everything I have,” Lanoree said.

“May the Force go with you,” Lha-Mi said.

Lanoree stood, bowed, and as she approached the closed door Lha-Mi opened it with
a wave of his hand. She paused once before leaving, turned back.

“Master Xiang. Please relay my love to my mother and father. Tell them … I’ll see
them soon.”

Xiang nodded, smiled.

As Lanoree left the room, she almost felt her little brother’s hand in her own.

On her way back to her Peacemaker, a riot of emotions played across Lanoree’s mind.
Beneath them all was a realization that was little surprise to her—she was glad that
Dal was still alive. And this, she knew, was why she had been chosen for this mission.
There were her past achievements, true, and though only in her midtwenties, she had
already served the Je’daii well. Her affinity with the Force, and the Je’daii’s purpose
and outlook, was pure. But her personal involvement might be her greatest asset.

Because she had failed to save her brother’s life once, she would not let him go again.
She would do everything she could to save Dal—from danger and from damnation—and that
determination would serve her mission well.

But she knew that it might also compromise her assignment.

She breathed deeply and calmed herself, knowing that she would have to keep her emotions
in check.

Two young Je’daii apprentices passed her by. A boy and a girl, they might well have
been brother and sister, and for a fleeting moment they reminded her of Dal and herself.
They bowed respectfully and she nodded back, seeing the esteem in their eyes, and
perhaps a touch of awe. Lanoree wore loose trousers and wrapped shirt, shimmersilk
jacket, leather boots and equipment belt. Her flowing red scarves were
from one of the finest clothing stores on Kalimahr. The silver bangles on her left
wrist bore precious stones from the deep mines of Ska Gora, a gift from the Wookiee
family she’d grown close to during her time there. Her sword was carried in a leather
sheath fashioned from the bright green skin of a screech lizard from one of Obri’s
three moons. Add these exotic adornments to her six-foot frame, startling gray eyes,
and long, flowing auburn hair clasped in a dozen metal clips, and she knew she cut
an imposing figure.

“Ranger,” the young girl said. Lanoree paused and turned, and saw that the two children
had also stopped. They were staring at her, but with a little more than fascination.
They had purpose.

“Children,” Lanoree said, raising an eyebrow.

The girl came forward, one hand in the pocket of her woven trousers. Lanoree sensed
the Force flowing strongly in them both, and there was an assuredness to their movements
that made her sad. With her and Dal it had been so different. He had never understood
the Force, and as they’d grown older together that confusion had turned into rejection,
a growing hatred … and then something far worse.

“Master Dam-Powl asked that I give you this,” the girl said. She held out a small
message pod the size of her thumb. “She said it’s for your eyes only.”

A private message from Master Dam-Powl, beyond the ears and eyes of the rest of the
Je’daii. This was intriguing.

Lanoree took the pod and pocketed it. “Thank you,” she said. “What’s your name?”

But the girl and boy hurried away toward Lha-Mi’s Peacemaker, a gentle breeze ruffling
their hair. The ship’s engines were already starting to cycle up.

Ironholgs stood at the base of her ship’s ramp. It clicked and rattled as she approached.

“All good?” she asked absently. The droid confirmed that, yes, all was good.

Lanoree paused on the ramp and looked around. The Masters’ Peacemaker and several
smaller escort ships were already lifting away, and further afield there were only
the hillsides and the ancient standing stones, placed countless millennia ago to honor
long-forgotten gods.