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[Dark Nest] - 1(113)

By:The Joiner King


Formbi turned and, in a surprised voice, asked, “What makes you think the Empire of the Hand has been destroyed?”

Luke wasn’t fooled for a moment. He could feel the Aristocra’s dismay through the Force-and so could Mara.

“Baron Fel, for starters,” she said. “He wouldn’t have abandoned his duties while the Empire of the Hand stood.”

“Perhaps it was merely absorbed,” Formbi suggested.

“After being battered into nothingness,” Mara said. “We know that Nirauan has been abandoned. Something must have happened.”

Formbi sighed in resignation. “The Empire of the Hand served the purpose Mith’raw’nuruodo intended-though it was not against the Colony, as you suggest.”

“The Vagaari, then?” Mara pressed. “The Yuuzhan Vong?”

“That’s really all I am at liberty to say,” Formbi answered wearily. “Except, perhaps, that the Colony is only one of the Terrors remaining to the Unknown Regions. Do not be surprised to see the Empire of the Hand rise again, when there is need.”

“I see,” Luke said, saddened to have confirmed what he had only suspected until now. “I know that three of the Fel children survived, but what of Chak-“

“Only two survived,” Formbi said. “Jagged and Wyn. Chak, Davin, and Cherith are all dead.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Luke said. “I liked Chak very much.”

“But what of Cem?” Mara asked, picking the question off the top of Luke’s head. “Was she killed, too?”

“Cem?” A sly smile came to Formbi’s mouth. “Cem is a son’s name.”

“Excuse me,” Mara said. “We never actually met.”

“I should think not.” The smile grew wider and shiftier. “Cem would be the Fels’ shadow child.”

‘Shadow child?” Luke asked.

“Publicly unacknowledged,” Formbi explained. “Secret, in fact. It’s a common Chiss precaution to keep enemies from wiping out an entire ruling family.”

Luke began to have a guilty feeling in his stomach. “How secret?”

“Quite,” Formbi replied. “In fact, this is the first time I’ve heard of a Cem Fel. I imagine you heard the name from Wyn.”

“Jacen did,” Mara replied. “How could you know?”

“Wyn is notorious for spilling secrets,” he said.

“And now we’ve compounded it,” Luke said. “I hope you’ll hold the name in confidence.”

“Of course.” Formbi’s voice was sincere. “And you shouldn’t feel bad-Soontir Fel is a clever one. I often suspect that Wyn reveals only what he wishes her to.”

“Thank you.”

Luke returned the smile, hoping to conceal his doubt about the Aristocra’s reassurances. He waved at the training field, where the small team had won control of all six jet-balls and was driving deep into opposition territory. “And now, perhaps you’d allow me to explain the game we’re watching.”

“Please,” Formbi said. “It looks refreshingly riotous.”

“We call it Skorch,” Luke explained. “It’s actually the referee who’s being trained. Each team has a set of secret goals-such as collecting three balls or sending two into one goal and one into another-and it’s the referee’s job to discover those goals and see that both sides win.”

“If that’s possible,” Mara said. “In some Skorch scenarios, the goals are mutually exclusive. Then the referee must see that both teams achieve an equivalent level of victory.”

The referee, a black-furred Defel with eyes as red as Formbi’s, popped up from behind a wall and sent a small Rodian sprawling. He intercepted the jet-ball that had been coming in her direction and sent it sailing toward the other end of the course.

“The referee can also arrange complete losses for both sides,” Luke said. “Though that’s a last resort. It’s considered barely adequate.”

“What an odd game,” Formbi said.

R2-D2 emitted a discordant series of beeps, then

raised

his transceiver antenna and began to move off.

Luke scowled and called, “Artoo, come back here.” When R2-D2 continued toward the Skorch field, Luke excused himself and caught up to the droid. “Didn’t you hear me? We’re in the middle of some very important business.”

R2-D2 whistled a sharp reply.

“I’m sure your business is important, too,” Luke said. “But you’ll have to conduct it over there, with us.”

R2-D2 pivoted on a tread, then tweedled a question.