Into the Void: Star Wars (Dawn of the Jedi) (60 page)

Jaina smiled again, but now there was suspicion in her expression. “You just want
to have this so
I’ll
be assigned to come to the Remnant and set it up.”

“That’s a motive, but not the only one. Remember, to the Moffs and to a lot of the
Imperial population, the Jedi have been bogeymen since Palpatine died. At the
very least, I don’t want them to be inappropriately afraid of the woman I’m in love
with.”

Jaina was silent for a moment. “Have we talked enough politics?”

“I think so.”

“Good.”

HORN FAMILY QUARTERS
,

KALLAD
’
S DREAM VACATION HOSTEL, CORUSCANT

Yawning, hair tousled, clad in a blue dressing robe, Valin Horn knew that he did not
look anything like an experienced Jedi Knight. He looked like an unshaven, unkempt
bachelor, which he also was. But here, in these rented quarters, there would be only
family to see him—at least until he had breakfast, shaved, and dressed.

The Horns did not live here, of course. His mother, Mirax, was the anchor for the
immediate family. Manager of a variety of interlinked businesses—trading, interplanetary
finances, gambling and recreation, and, if rumors were true, still a little smuggling
here and there—she maintained her home and business address on Corellia. Corran, her
husband and Valin’s father, was a Jedi Master, much of his life spent on missions
away from the family, but his true home was where his heart resided, wherever Mirax
lived. Valin and his sister, Jysella, also Jedi, lived wherever their missions sent
them, and also counted Mirax as the center of the family.

Now Mirax had rented temporary quarters on Coruscant so the family could collect on
one of its rare occasions, this time for the Unification Summit, where she and Corran
would separately give depositions on the relationships among the Confederation states,
the Imperial Remnant, and the Galactic Alliance as they related
to trade and Jedi activities. Mirax had insisted that Valin and Jysella leave their
Temple quarters and stay with their parents while these events were taking place,
and few forces in the galaxy could stand before her decision—Luke Skywalker certainly
knew better than to try.

Moving from the refresher toward the kitchen and dining nook, Valin brushed a lock
of brown hair out of his eyes and grinned. Much as he might put up a public show of
protest—the independent young man who did not need parents to direct his actions or
tell him where to sleep—he hardly minded. It was good to see family. And both Corran
and Mirax were better cooks than the ones at the Jedi Temple.

There was no sound of conversation from the kitchen, but there was some clattering
of pans, so at least one of his parents must still be on hand. As he stepped from
the hallway into the dining nook, Valin saw that it was his mother, her back to him
as she worked at the stove. He pulled a chair from the table and sat. “Good morning.”

“A joke, so early?” Mirax did not turn to face him, but her tone was cheerful. “No
morning is good. I come light-years from Corellia to be with my family, and what happens?
I have to keep Jedi hours to see them. Don’t you know that I’m an executive? And a
lazy one?”

“I forgot.” Valin took a deep breath, sampling the smells of breakfast. His mother
was making hotcakes Corellian-style, nerf sausage links on the side, and caf was brewing.
For a moment, Valin was transported back to his childhood, to the family breakfasts
that had been somewhat more common before the Yuuzhan Vong came, before Valin and
Jysella had started down the Jedi path. “Where are Dad and Sella?”

“Your father is out getting some back-door information from other Jedi Masters for
his deposition.” Mirax pulled a plate from a cabinet and began sliding hotcakes and
links onto it. “Your sister left early and wouldn’t
say what she was doing, which I assume either means it’s Jedi business I can’t know
about or that she’s seeing some man she doesn’t
want
me to know about.”

“Or both.”

“Or both.” Mirax turned and moved over to put the plate down before him. She set utensils
beside it.

The plate was heaped high with food, and Valin recoiled from it in mock horror. “Stang,
Mom, you’re feeding your son, not a squadron of Gamorreans.” Then he caught sight
of his mother’s face and he was suddenly no longer in a joking mood.

This wasn’t his mother.

Oh, the woman had Mirax’s features. She had the round face that admirers had called
“cute” far more often than “beautiful,” much to Mirax’s chagrin. She had Mirax’s generous,
curving lips that smiled so readily and expressively, and Mirax’s bright, lively brown
eyes. She had Mirax’s hair, a glossy black with flecks of gray, worn shoulder-length
to fit readily under a pilot’s helmet, even though she piloted far less often these
days. She was Mirax to every freckle and dimple.

But she was not Mirax.

The woman, whoever she was, caught sight of Valin’s confusion. “Something wrong?”

“Uh, no.” Stunned, Valin looked down at his plate.

He had to think—logically, correctly, and
fast
. He might be in grave danger right now, though the Force currently gave him no indication
of imminent attack. The true Mirax, wherever she was, might be in serious trouble
or worse. Valin tried in vain to slow his heart rate and speed up his thinking processes.

Fact: Mirax had been here but had been replaced by an imposter. Presumably the real
Mirax was gone; Valin could not sense anyone but himself and the imposter in the immediate
vicinity. The imposter had remained behind for some reason that had to relate to Valin,
Jysella,
or Corran. It couldn’t have been to capture Valin, as she could have done that with
drugs or other methods while he slept, so the food was probably not drugged.

Under Not-Mirax’s concerned gaze, he took a tentative bite of sausage and turned a
reassuring smile he didn’t feel toward her.

Fact: Creating an imposter this perfect must have taken a fortune in money, an incredible
amount of research, and a volunteer willing to let her features be permanently carved
into the likeness of another’s. Or perhaps this was a clone, raised and trained for
the purpose of simulating Mirax. Or maybe she was a droid, one of the very expensive,
very rare human replica droids. Or maybe a shape-shifter. Whichever, the simulation
was nearly perfect. Valin hadn’t recognized the deception until …

Until
what
? What had tipped him off? He took another bite, not registering the sausage’s taste
or temperature, and maintained the face-hurting smile as he tried to recall the detail
that had alerted him that this wasn’t his mother.

He couldn’t figure it out. It was just an instant realization, too fleeting to remember,
too overwhelming to reject.

Would Corran be able to see through the deception? Would Jysella? Surely, they had
to be able to. But what if they couldn’t? Valin would accuse this woman and be thought
insane.

Were Corran and Jysella even still at liberty? Still
alive
? At this moment, the Not-Mirax’s colleagues could be spiriting the two of them away
with the true Mirax. Or Corran and Jysella could be lying, bleeding, at the bottom
of an access shaft, their lives draining away.

Valin couldn’t think straight. The situation was too overwhelming, the mystery too
deep, and the only person
here who knew the answers was the one who wore the face of his mother.

He stood, sending his chair clattering backward, and fixed the false Mirax with a
hard look. “Just a moment.” He dashed to his room.

His lightsaber was still where he’d left it, on the night-stand beside his bed. He
snatched it up and gave it a near-instantaneous examination. Battery power was still
optimal; there was no sign that it had been tampered with.

He returned to the dining room with the weapon in his hand. Not-Mirax, clearly confused
and beginning to look a little alarmed, stood by the stove, staring at him.

Valin ignited the lightsaber, its
snap-hiss
of activation startlingly loud, and held the point of the gleaming energy blade against
the food on his plate. Hotcakes shriveled and blackened from contact with the weapon’s
plasma. Valin gave Not-Mirax an approving nod. “Flesh does the same thing under the
same conditions, you know.”

“Valin, what’s
wrong
?”

“You may address me as Jedi Horn. You don’t have the right to use my personal name.”
Valin swung the lightsaber around in a practice form, allowing the blade to come within
a few centimeters of the glow rod fixture overhead, the wall, the dining table, and
the woman with his mother’s face. “You probably know from your research that the Jedi
don’t worry much about amputations.”

Not-Mirax shrank back away from him, both hands on the stove edge behind her. “What?”

“We know that a severed limb can readily be replaced by a prosthetic that looks identical
to the real thing. Prosthetics offer sensation and do everything flesh can. They’re
ideal substitutes in every way, except for requiring maintenance. So we don’t feel
too badly when we
have to cut the arm or leg off a very bad person. But I assure you, that very bad
person remembers the pain forever.”

“Valin, I’m going to call your father now.” Not-Mirax sidled toward the blue bantha-hide
carrybag she had left on a side table.

Valin positioned the tip of his lightsaber directly beneath her chin. At the distance
of half a centimeter, its containing force field kept her from feeling any heat from
the blade, but a slight twitch on Valin’s part could maim or kill her instantly. She
froze.

“No, you’re not. You know what you’re going to do instead?”

Not-Mirax’s voice wavered. “What?”

“You’re going to
tell me what you’ve done with my mother!
” The last several words emerged as a bellow, driven by fear and anger. Valin knew
that he looked as angry as he sounded; he could feel blood reddening his face, could
even see redness begin to suffuse everything in his vision.

“Boy, put the blade down.” Those were not the woman’s words. They came from behind.
Valin spun, bringing his blade up into a defensive position.

In the doorway stood a man, middle-aged, clean-shaven, his hair graying from brown.
He was of below-average height, his eyes a startling green. He wore the brown robes
of a Jedi. His hands were on his belt, his own lightsaber still dangling from it.

He was Valin’s father, Jedi Master Corran Horn. But he wasn’t, any more than the woman
behind Valin was Mirax Horn.

Valin felt a wave of despair wash over him.
Both
parents replaced. Odds were growing that the real Corran and Mirax were already dead.

Yet Valin’s voice was soft when he spoke. “They may
have made you a virtual double for my father. But they can’t have given you his expertise
with the lightsaber.”

“You don’t want to do what you’re thinking about, son.”

“When I cut you in half, that’s all the proof anyone will ever need that you’re not
the real Corran Horn.”

Valin lunged.

OLD REPUBLIC 5000–33 YEARS BEFORE
STAR WARS: A New Hope

  Lost Tribe of the Sith
*

      Precipice

      Skyborn

      Paragon

      Savior

      Purgatory

      Sentinel

3954
YEARS BEFORE STAR WARS: A New Hope

  The Old Republic: Revan

3650
YEARS BEFORE STAR WARS: A New Hope

  The Old Republic: Deceived

  Lost Tribe of the Sith*

      Pantheon

      Secrets

  Red Harvest

  The Old Republic: Fatal Alliance

  The Old Republic: Annihilation

2975
YEARS BEFORE STAR WARS: A New Hope

  Lost Tribe of the Sith*

      Pandemonium

1032
YEARS BEFORE STAR WARS: A New Hope

  Knight Errant

  Darth Bane: Path of Destruction

  Darth Bane: Rule of Two

  Darth Bane: Dynasty of Evil

RISE OF THE EMPIRE 67–0 YEARS BEFORE
STAR WARS: A New Hope

67
YEARS BEFORE STAR WARS: A New Hope

  Darth Plagueis

33
YEARS BEFORE STAR WARS: A New Hope

  Darth Maul: Saboteur*

  Cloak of Deception

  Darth Maul: Shadow Hunter

32
YEARS BEFORE STAR WARS: A New Hope

  
STAR WARS:
EPISODE I:
The Phantom Menace

  Rogue Planet

Outbound Flight

The Approaching Storm

22
YEARS BEFORE STAR WARS: A New Hope

  
STAR WARS:
EPISODE II:
Attack of the Clones

22-19
YEARS BEFORE STAR WARS: A New Hope

  The Clone Wars

  The Clone Wars: Wild Space

  The Clone Wars: No Prisoners

  Clone Wars Gambit

      Stealth

      Siege

  Republic Commando

      Hard Contact

      Triple Zero

      True Colors

      Order 66

  Shatterpoint

  The Cestus Deception

  The Hive*

  MedStar I: Battle Surgeons

  MedStar II: Jedi Healer

  Jedi Trial

  Yoda: Dark Rendezvous

  Labyrinth of Evil

19
YEARS BEFORE STAR WARS: A New Hope

  
STAR WARS:
EPISODE III:
Revenge of the Sith

  Dark Lord: The Rise of Darth Vader

  Imperial Commando

      501st

  Coruscant Nights

      Jedi Twilight

      Street of Shadows

      Patterns of Force

      The Han Solo Trilogy

      The Paradise Snare

      The Hutt Gambit

      Rebel Dawn

  
The Adventures of Lando Calrissian

    The Force Unleashed