Some people came back from the dark. Luke had. Others didn’t. Ben becoming a lifelong agent of evil had not been a certainty.
What was certain was that Jacen was alive. And now, as Jacen furthered his plans for galactic conquest, more people would die. They would die by the thousands at least, probably by the tens or hundreds of thousands, perhaps by the millions.
And Luke would be responsible.
So had it been the right decision? Ben against thousands of lives?
Logic said no-no, unless in falling to the dark side, Ben became as great a force for evil as Jacen Solo was or their mutual grandfather, Anakin Skywalker, Darth Vader, had been.
Emotion said yes-yes, unless Ben interpreted Luke’s refusal to kill as a sign of weakness, and that decision fostered contempt in him, contempt for Luke and the light side of the Force. That could push him along Jacen’s path despite Luke’s intent.
And either way, those thousands would die.
A translucent white rectangle, tall and very thin, appeared on the viewport ahead of Luke. It rapidly broadened, revealing itself as the reflection of a door opening in the wall behind him. Jedi Master Kyp Durron stood in the doorway, his brown robes rumpled, his long graying-brown hair damp with sweat and unkempt. His expression, normally one of mild amusement layered over what was usually interpreted as a trace of cockiness, was now more somber-neutrality concealing concern. “Grand Master?”
“Come in.” Luke did not turn to face Kyp. The view of Endor’s wilderness was soothing.
Kyp moved in and the door shut behind him, eliminating the illuminated rectangle from Luke’s field of vision. “The door chimes do not appear to be working on this passageway, and you were not responding to your comlink …”
Luke frowned. “I didn’t hear it. Maybe the battery is dead.” He pulled his comlink from the tunic of his white Tatooine-style work suit. The ready light on the small cylindrical object was still lit. A quick examination showed that the device had been shut off. Puzzled, Luke turned it on again and tucked it away.
“Just a routine report. The StealthXs are spread, by wing pairs, across a broad area, under camouflage netting.
Many of the pilots found useful landing spots in areas where debris from the second Death Star came down and created burn zones. The younglings are packed into two large chambers, acting as dormitories, on this outpost, but a reconnaissance team of Jedi Knights has found a cavern system not too far away that will provide ample space for a training facility… and some defense against orbital sensors. The Jedi Knights are relocating a nest of rearing spiders there. Once they’re certain the spiders and their eggs are all gone, we’ll begin transferring the younglings.”
“Good. But don’t put too much effort into making those caverns livable. We’ll be leaving Endor before many more weeks pass.”
Kyp nodded. “Otherwise, we seem to be dealing well with the local Ewoks.”
“Any we know?”
“No. … Wicket’s family group’s territory is still limited to areas south of here. But your idea of bringing in See-Threepio as an interpreter is paying off. The local clan seems to like him.”
“Good.”
Kyp did not immediately reply, so Luke turned to give him a look. The younger Master seemed to be pondering his next words. Luke cocked an eyebrow at him. “Anything else?”
“There’s been some question about our next action against Jacen.”
“Ah, yes.” Luke turned to look out the viewport again. “I don’t know. Why don’t you arrange that?”
There was a long silence, then: “Yes, Grand Master.”
The rectangle of light reappeared. Kyp’s reflection moved into it and it closed again, leaving Luke in silence and peace.
And confronted by the memory of Jacen, bloodied and battered almost beyond recognition, crawling away from him, Ben’s vibroblade lodged in his back. Ben’s face appeared before him, mouthing the words, This kill is mine.
Luke shivered.
Chapter 3
KASHYYYK, MAITELL BASE, HANGAR HOUSING THE MILLENNIUM FALCON
There were still bright spots before Han’s eyes, right at the center of his focus, from the brilliance of the turbolaser blast he had almost flown into. He had to scan, traverse his line of sight, in order to work around them.
Directly before him was an old sabacc table with a rusty rim and a grime-spotted felt surface; a brandy bottle and a set of tumblers rested upon it. Beyond was the Millennium Falcon, her boarding ramp down, with Wookiee utility vehicles and Confederation spacecraft parked beside her. The long hangar door the Falcon faced was open, showing riverbank, trees that were stunted and tiny by Kashyyyk standards, and skies filled with haze and smoke clouds dimming the sunlight. Other buildings were visible on the far side of the river, all remnants of a long-abandoned spaceport dating from the years of Imperial occupation.