Then something occurred to him and he grinned. Abandoning his Jedi detachment, he poured emotion into the Force: contempt for his enemy, disparaging dismissal of the Sith ship’s worth.
He felt his enemy’s anger grow, and winced as it lashed out at him, grasping in the Force.
But this was no attack. He could feel its thoughts now, primitive but clear, hammering away insistently at his mind like a fist against a door. He could almost understand them…
He could understand them, he realized, if he wanted to. There was something familiar about their patterns, their darkness. Techniques he had learned years before, as a student of the Shadow Academy, gave him that insight. Though he had shoved them away, deep into his memory, those techniques were still with him … if he chose to remember them.
He wavered on the rung that supported him, and wavered on the question. But he had no time left. If the Sith starfighter killed him, it would go after Jaina next.
He opened himself to the darkness. It flooded into him, engulfing him, gagging him. Abruptly his surroundings were much clearer in his mind. The exact location, the appearance of that Sith meditation sphere-yes, that was what it was-were now clear to him.
As were its thoughts. It hesitated in its movements, aware of the sudden change in Zekk’s outlook. You are Jedi.
Am I? I have been many things. I was a Jedi a minute ago. What am I now? Not to be trusted. Zekk let some amusement creep into his thoughts. And yet you trust her. He pictured Alema Rar in his mind, and let his memories of her as a young Jedi Knight color his vision.
The meditation sphere’s reply was tinged with contempt. Not trust. Obey. Must obey.
Because she knows a secret or two? Do you obey anything who knows the dark ways? You would obey me, then.
The meditation sphere did not reply. A presentiment of victory, like adrenaline, flashed through Zekk. That’s it, isn’t it? All you need is the right order. From the right dark sider. There was no answer. What are you called? I am Ship.
Zekk snorted, amused and contemptuous at the same time. You are stupid and simplistic. But I will do you a favor anyway. I free you.
He could tell that Ship received his words, but he felt no indication of understanding.
Of course not-this was a vehicle. It was made to serve. It would always serve. The question was, what would it serve.
I free you from Alema Rar. I order you to leave her, to leave this place. I order you to find a master better suited to your nature. I command you to go, as fast as you can, ignoring all commands, all cries for help. Into his words he poured his own power of will, and felt it joined, strengthened by the power of this dark place. His own strength swelled, bloating out beyond the confines of his body, growing like an explosion, until its fringes engulfed Ship.
There, within Ship, was a hard knot of resistance, older orders, planted by Alema Rar. Zekk saw them as a mound, like a standing stone. He lashed that stone with his own strength and saw it begin to erode, flaking away, dissolving.
In moments it was gone, reduced to nothingness. Zekk felt a sort of dark joy rise up within Ship, and then the meditation sphere was accelerating upward, toward the exit out of the chamber. An instant later it was gone.
Zekk sagged, relieved. Jaina would live. He would live.
He would descend to where Ship knew Alema to be. Zekk would kill Alema, cutting her until no remaining piece could sustain life.
Then he would kill Jag and be rid of that moralistic, interfering simulation of a man. That, of course, he would have to do in such a way that it did not distress Jaina.
And finally, there would be Jaina. He would reforge the link between them and, through it, pour his thoughts, his love. He would do so until she understood, until she loved and obeyed him. Until she was his.
Worry suddenly gnawed at him, like the sharp teeth of some undercity rodent. That’s not right. Slowly, he lowered himself to sit on the top cross-tie of the track, wrapping his legs around the rail for security.
That’s not what he should be thinking. The dark side was flooding him now, pouring its toxins into his thoughts.
He tried to shove it out, to become what he had been just a few minutes before. But it was strong, so very strong, and it laughed at his pathetic efforts.
Over the comlink, Jaina called for Zekk, for Jag. She got no answer. That was not entirely unexpected. These personal comlinks could transmit across many kilometers, but not through stone or thick duracrete, and she had plummeted into yet another cavern chamber through a narrow passageway since parting from Zekk.
A touch of Force exertion brought her alongside the track again. She put the soles of her boots against it, allowing friction to slow her. Alone, with only one set of eyes, she needed to descend more slowly, to be more alert.