[Legacy Of The Force] - 07(34)

It was at such a place that Palpatine’s occupation forces had built Maitell Base some six decades before. They had landed prefabricated buildings, had poured duracrete, had raised hangars and installed perimeter defenses. From places like this they had ruled the world. Then, after Palpatine died, the Wookiees had reclaimed their planet, one base at a time, driving the stormtroopers into flight. The wildlife of Kashyyyk had overgrown many of the bases, while others, like Maitell, had been kept in sporadic use as sites where offworlders could be housed and their spacecraft could be landed.

Zekk, panting in the shade of a tree less than thirty meters tall, decided that the years had not blunted the base’s utilitarian ugliness. Though green and brown vines snaked across the roofs of many of the buildings, the walls remained a dirty gray-white, shining like bones in the sun. The streets and landing strips were precise, straight lines, intersecting at right angles, all at odds with the flowing, organic nature of the world around them. Though currently employed by the Wookiees as a base to stage firefighting operations, this place still didn’t belong here.

“Hey.” Jaina’s call was curt. “Again.”

Zekk looked over at her. She stood in her Jedi robes, perspiring and tense, lightsaber unlit in her hands.

Zekk sighed. “Give me a minute.”

“I need to practice.”

“I’m not sure you can gain anything from sparring more with me. You’ve outstripped me with the lightsaber. Practice is all you think about, day and night. I doubt any Jedi Knight can stand against you. You need to practice against a Master.”

“Come on.” Her tone was not wheedling, but commanding.

Shaking his head, sure it was a bad idea, Zekk approached her again. He thumbed on his lightsaber…

Before he could even bring it into line, Jaina gestured. The hilt popped out of his hand and flew into Jaina’s grip. Anticipating her rush, he twisted out of the way as she dashed up to him. He ducked under her attack, grabbed the hilt of her own unlit lightsaber, and yanked.

But she did not release it. Using his own strength to augment her move, she somersaulted over him. Then, as she landed, she kicked out, hammering the side of his knee.

He fell, rolling away from her follow-up blow, and felt a chill of fear. “Hold it! End practice!”

She paused, annoyed, and looked down at him. “What?”

“If I don’t have a lightsaber, I can’t parry.”

“Well, you should hold on to yours.” She switched it off and tossed it to him. Then she retreated to her start position and took up her ready stance again. “Come on.”

“We’re switching to training lightsabers.” Scowling at her, Zekk moved to the pack of workout gear they had brought. He dropped his lightsaber on the blanket beside the pack. Then, from inside, he drew out two practice weapons. Made for use by Jedi trainees and apprentices, their energy blades delivered a painful shock, but no accident with one could sever an arm … or a head.

“I’m not going to learn anything from facing a shock weapon. Come on, pick up your lightsaber.”

Zekk shook his head and approached her, one training weapon in each hand. “You’re not going to learn anything from practicing with me unless you switch to shock weapons. Because otherwise I’m not going to be a part of it. Jaina, you’re playing too rough. You’re a danger to yourself and others.”

“Zekk, you know you can trust me.”

“I know I used to be able to. Before you turned into …” Zekk saw what was approaching them from the direction of the Millennium Falcon hangar and his voice trailed off.

Jaina’s eyes narrowed, as though she saw through his simple trick and was offended by it. Then, either through the Force or simply by being convinced by his expression that someone was indeed approaching, she turned to look.

Walking toward them was Jacen Solo.

He was clad head-to-foot in a black Guard uniform. He wore thick jackboots and thick gloves. His helmet’s full-face visor concealed his features. His cape billowed behind him as he strode.

Zekk felt a chill of almost supernatural dread. In his full regalia, Solo looked so much like Darth Vader that anyone allied with the Jedi, remembering or having studied the bygone times of the Jedi Purge, would be similarly affected.

Jaina’s voice came as a whisper: “Too short.”

“Yeah, Vader was much taller.”

“Too short even for my brother, idiot.” She raised her voice so the intruder could hear her. “Whoever you are, that’s not funny.”

Reaching the edge of their practice clearing, their visitor pushed up his visor, revealing the features of Jag Fel. “I wasn’t trying to be funny. But, Zekk, you should have seen your face.”