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[Legacy Of The Force] - 08(92)

By:Revelation (Karen Traviss)


And why couldn’t anyone else see it? Illusions could be made visible to many people. So it was designed to disturb him, and him alone, not to lure his ships into shooting and whatever might result from that.

Caedus could feel nothing beyond a distant sense that there were still Jedi in the Force, much the way the lights of a city were a constant and unnoticed backdrop until they went out. He was chasing phantoms again. That was what they wanted. He had to focus, swallow his anger, and avoid being provoked.

The crew of the Anakin Solo had already heard him make a complete fool of himself. He’d have to work on restoring his infallible image.

Luke. After Niathal, before order being restored-he had to do something about Luke. Perhaps Luke would have the common sense of the last remaining Jedi after Palpatine’s Purge, and go into exile.

Ahead of Caedus, an auxiliary vessel was hooking up to a cruiser to replenish supplies via a long tube-like tunnel, proof of how rapidly some of the Third Fleet had slipped their berths. They were catching up on routine tasks that would have normally been completed alongside. The Imperials would have brought forward their embarkation, too; as soon as they showed up, they could get this over with. Occupying Fondor wasn’t an option. No… it would turn into Corellia, but worse. Worlds looked at Corellia, bruised but still Confederate, and might even be emboldened enough by the cocky defiance to try to emulate it. Fondor might do that while tying up hundreds of thousands of troops and their vessels. Caedus intended to make an example of Fondor, the sort that said: Don’t try this again.

Torching Kashyyyk should have announced that, but the human majority on many planets probably took more no-tice of what happened to their own related species in nice clean cities.

He was among the scattered ships now. The light level in his cockpit-the light from the distant sun at his back-dipped slightly.

He couldn’t see anything on his instruments. He couldn’t feel anything near him beyond the general oppressive weight of warships preparing for battle.

Remember what happened last time. Caedus wouldn’t be caught twice. If he leaned slightly to one side, the reflection at his six often appeared on the viewscreen in front of him. He shifted in his seat, but there was nothing. If] jump at every shadow now, he’s got me. Ludicrous. The next moment, the sherrnkkk of tearing fiberplast vibrated through the airframe and his chest, and he was flung to port, spinning out of control. Something had hit him. He hadn’t clipped anything through careless flying. He was too experienced, too good. He punched the StealthX into a short burn to stop the roll and peeled away under the ships to put some distance between him and whatever had rammed him.

Obviously-he couldn’t see it. No point sending a distress signal; this wasn’t something to share with the fleet again. He accelerated, trying to get some edge, looking for vvhat wasn’t there: stars.

He was straining to find a dark area of obscured stars, the only way he could spot a fighter that was as camou-flaged and undetectable as his own.

I’ve been hunted by a StealthX before, Luke. You think I’m stupid?

If he couldn’t see Luke, he would maneuver where Luke couldn’t detect him.

He wasn’t going to get in the same position of not being able to use his cannon as he had with Mara. He’d risk being hit by fragments. He didn’t have far to run for help if he got a slow decompression. This time, he’d use what he’d learned.

For the first time, though, he began to wonder if it was Luke out there.

Ben?

Caedus hadn’t felt anyone. Luke-he could always sense Luke. But Ben had taken to Force hiding instantly. Mara had managed it for critical moments and nearly killed him, but this smacked of Ben.

Bang.

Something clipped him from underneath the fuselage this time, shaking his teeth. He corrected course. He didn’t need instruments to tell him he had a breach somewhere. When he looped again, he caught sight of a thin trail of escaping vapor or fluid, probably coolant. StealthXs had traded shielding for sensor negation; they still had pretty tough skins in collisions, but hitting another vessel at these speeds normally tore off parts and ended unhappily.

This was incredibly precise wingtip ramming, or staggering luck twice in a row. And he was no longer undetectable. He had a vapor trail.

He opened a comm channel. There was no point trying for a meld, after all. The StealthX’s comm system had seen more use today than it had in its entire service history.

“Face me, and let’s finish it, “he said. Ben, or Luke? If it’s Luke, then he’s got new tricks. It could even be Jaina, if Ben’s teaching everyone to shut down in the Force. I don’t care.