Текст книги "Savior "

Автор книги: John J. Miller

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Chapter Three

It wasn’t the rush of bodies that startled Korsin so much as where they came from. Black-clad Sith descended upon the plaza from the living quarters—doorways, upper windows, rooftops—and from the ramparts of Omen’s multilevel temple. Korsin ignited his lightsaber and stood his ground as the invaders approached. They were Jariad’s Sabers, the same team from the previous morning.

Korsin exchanged glances with Gloyd. Their bodyguards flanked them, forming a defensive huddle facing outward. Four to one.“Stick together.”

Korsin watched as Jariad strode purposefully from the temple doorway, weapon lit. “This doesn’t look like the Northern Reaches to me, Jariad.”

His nephew said nothing. He had that wild look again. Devore’s look.

“I agreed to your little group to give you something to do,” Korsin yelled. He addressed Jariad’s stern companions. “You should be ashamed. Get back to Tahv.”

“I’m not like Nida,” Jariad said, still approaching. “I don’t need hobbies. Enough time has been wasted.” He walked around his confederates, now forming a perimeter of glowing lightsabers around Korsin’s group. “It’s time to make your reckoning, Commandermill_9780345519412_2p_all_r1.qxp:8p insert template 2/25/10 1:27 PM

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Korsin. You told us yourself. A new age has dawned.

It’s time for military authority to end. This is about succession—about who should best lead the Tribe.”

“Who? You?” Korsin tried to act surprised—and chuckled. “Oh, Jariad—I really don’t think so. Go home.”

Jariad froze, evidently aware of the watchful stares from his own forces. Gloyd, seeming to catch the idea, guffawed. “Commander, I wouldn’t put this one in charge of mucking out the uvak stalls.”

“I’m the future!” Jariad boomed. “I’m the youngest of those born on high. All Sith after me are Kesh-born.”

He raised his lightsaber. “The leader of the Sith should be special.”

Korsin glared—and growled. “You’re not special.

I’ve seen your like before.”

A woman’s voice rang out. “Tell him about it!”

Seelah. He’d forgotten about her. She stood at the end of the plaza, now joined by several of her loyal retain-ers. All armed. “Tell him about how you saw his father die,Yaru. Tell him how you killed him and threw his body onto the rocks, all to keep control of us!”

Korsin started to respond, only to see Jariad step backward. The Sabers closed in. Clearly, Jariad was going to let them take the first blows before entering for the kill. Korsin steeled himself—and looked to the clouds. Noon.

Suddenly shadowy figures sailed across the quad.

Five, ten—dozens of creatures took to the skies, lifting from behind the temple. Uvak.

Theirs.

“What in blazes?” Jariad looked to his mother. Seelah appeared to have no more idea than he did.

An answer finally came from one of her aides, rushing breathlessly up the staircase to the plaza. “The stable-hands—the Keshiri! They’re stealing our uvak!”

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Several of Jariad’s Sabers looked up, stunned. Korsin saw his chance. He and Gloyd launched toward the black-suits on their side, sweeping a deadly path toward the nearest building. Their bodyguards closed in behind them, blocking pursuit as best they could.

Korsin and Gloyd dashed through the building, followed by a mob of Sabers. Korsin made for the staircase, beckoning for Gloyd to follow.

“Nice trick, Commander,” Gloyd said. “But we could’ve used more than that!”

“It’s not my trick,” Korsin said, reaching a window.

“And you’re right!”

He looked urgently toward the skies and probed the Force in vain. He had been delivered from the mountain years before. But he could sense that his deliverer now was far away.

Her riding had improved since her first desperate flight, years before. Now Adari ably guided Nink as he soared, following the jagged coastline below. Behind her flew more than a hundred uvak—the entire popu-lation of the stables at the mountain temple, ridden by Keshiri stable hands, domestics, and laborers. All agents of Adari’s movement, all carefully positioned there for this day. If any mounts had been left to the Sith in the temple, no one was using them to follow.

The flock approaching far from the east was one of hers. There’d be others. In villages across the continent, the same thing would be happening: Neshtovar conspirators merely tending their uvak would, instead, take to the air with them, leaving none behind.

There wouldn’t be riders enough, but that didn’t matter. While not natural herd animals, even unbroken uvak were strongly suggestible to the booming bleats of elder males—the exact sort the Neshtovar tended.

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the centuries, with riders leading clouds of the reptiles through the sky. Adari’s would be a rolling storm front, sweeping up all the animals in the countryside in vast, successive waves. They’d crafted their routes to funnel every uvak that wasn’t tied down toward the Sessal Spire, looming ahead in its smoldering majesty.

Here, safely away from the crater, the lead riders would set their beasts down just long enough to dismount. Remaining aloft, Adari would order Nink to give a nesting cry: a powerful command compelling all uvak within earshot to immediately follow. At forty, pampered Nink was the oldest uvak in memory. All uvak would blindly heed his command—briefly. But long enough, Adari figured, for her to soar into the clouds high above the smoking crater—and disappear.

It wouldn’t be suicide. It would be deliverance.

The Sith had traveled far on uvak-back, but the Neshtovar were the recipients of generations of knowledge of the air currents of Kesh. They knew the odd things the jet stream did when the Sessal Spire acted up.

Riders flying high enough simply vanished, hurtling beyond the morning horizon, far over the great eastern sea. She would climb high—and the wind would claim her and any uvak that followed.

Despite her initial dislike of uvak, she winced at the thought of what would follow. The frantic flock would struggle against the vortex, but at such an elevation, Kesh was in command. Perhaps a similar phenomenon had disabled the Sith vessel; Adari didn’t know. But by the time the winds weakened, she—and every uvak she could convince to follow—would be headed for a watery end. Just like my husband,she mused.

Her co-conspirators loved their uvak, but they hated the Sith more. They had often discussed what would happen next. The Sith leaders would descend on their service path, but it would take time—time during mill_9780345519412_2p_all_r1.qxp:8p insert template 2/25/10 1:27 PM

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which Adari’s allies would strike at the major Sith sym-pathizers in each village. There would be no open resistance. It would be shikkar blades in the night. The Sith might be proud.

In truth, of course, the Sith would lash out. Tahv would surely feel their wrath. But the Sith would be running their pogrom on foot. Their transportation would be gone from the map—literally. And the Keshiri would find it easier to kill the remaining stray uvak than Sith.

The Sith now had young of their own to protect; they might simply stake out a chunk of territory for themselves and leave it at that. Or, better still, they might retire to their mountain refuge for good. Most Keshiri still idolized their Protectors—but as long as some of them were willing to poison their masters, they would forever be a danger.

Presuming poison killed the Sith at all. Adari had never really shared her confederates’ enthusiasm about the aftermath. She knew what the Sith were capable of.

It might take a thousand Keshiri to kill a single one. But even if it did? Right now, the odds still favored the Keshiri. They wouldn’t later on. Which is why this has to be today,she thought.

Kesh teemed with life. That one of its species would pay a price for its usefulness was tragic. But the Keshiri had already paid a price for their own usefulness to the Sith. Both had to end.

Her group merging with the fliers from the east, Adari whipped Nink around and looked in the direction of Tahv. That would be the big wave.

When it arrived.

Where werethey?

Seelah dashed across the rooftop of her old home.

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the sea that had swallowed Devore. Now, looking down, she saw her forces closing in on the man who’d sent him there.

She hadn’t seen how, but Korsin and Gloyd had gotten separated. The lumbering Houk was still alive, she knew—her loyal aides had chased him into another part of the complex. But Korsin was the key. He’d cho-sen his bodyguards well. Two remained alive, injured but effective in their misguided defense.

Jariad’s team of Sabers, meanwhile, had proven lacking in formal training. He’d insisted on being their only mentor, but had only begun serious combat training in recent weeks, after Seelah made the decision to strike.

Jariad reminded her more of his father every day. There was no corner Devore Korsin would not cut.

The uvak disappearance was an unexpected problem, but it cut equally, removing escape for all. The Keshiri had cleared all the animals out. Had Jariad made that preparation without telling her? Unlikely. But it seemed to have affected Korsin’s hopes. There, down on the reinforced slope beside Omen’s temple, he continued to look up. Seelah was certain he wasn’t looking at her.

She relished the view. Jariad had Korsin now. Trained or not, his Sabers had the numbers. As his bodyguards lagged, Korsin backed toward the precipice, the same mark from which Devore had fallen. Jariad would like that. He seemed to be relishing every moment—slashing again and again at Korsin, his blade occasionally finding its mark. Korsin was hurt now—bleeding badly.

Jariad pushed ever closer, driving his uncle backward.

And yet, Korsin kept looking up.

What was he expecting?

A crash from behind drew her attention. The limp form of one of her aides rocketed through a skylight and disappeared over the side. So that’s where Gloyd is.

He had to be contained, away from the action below.

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Angered at being robbed of seeing Korsin die, she turned to the shattered skylight—

–only to lose her footing as beating wings soared across the crest of the rooftop. Seelah rolled sideways, avoiding the kicking, clawed feet. The uvak were back!

Tumbling through the gaping hole, Seelah hit the stone floor on all fours. Gloyd’s battle was in the next room, but she scrambled for the window anyway. She had to see. Had the Keshiri returned with the uvak? Or was it someone she had never considered, never counted on?

Looking out, she saw.

Nida.

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Chapter F our

Korsin had played his trump.

Nida’s very existence, he knew, was part of Seelah’s game to keep herself and Jariad close to the seat of power.

Seelah had “caringly” found a series of Keshiri nurse-maids and then tutors for the child, boarding her in one village after another. Officially, it was a gesture of Sith trust in the Keshiri; in truth, it reflected the hole he’d always known was in his wife’s heart.

There was more. Seelah wasn’t just getting Nida out of the way; Korsin knew she was preventing her daughter from receiving anything more than superficial training in Sith ways. Seelah kept the rolls of Sith on Kesh; she knew where all potential mentors were at any time.

But Korsin had several loyal crew members willing to serve him in any role. With Gloyd’s help, Korsin had staged their deaths in remote areas of Kesh and sent them into hiding. All during the nights of Nida’s seeming exile, the girl had secretly been learning the ways of the dark side—even as, during the days, she was winning Keshiri friends and building a network of informants. All in her seemingly meaningless—but very mobile—role as aerial ambassador for the Sith.

While Seelah was striving to portray herself as the model Sith on Kesh, Korsin was crafting a leader, some-

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one with the talents to fight andto govern. An heir—and today, a savior.

The night before, one of Nida’s Keshiri acquaintances had revealed the plot to steal the uvak while the principal Sith were atop the mountain. She’d spent the morning making sure whatever the Keshiri were doing went no further, before joining Korsin here—along with her Skyborn Rangers and several Korsin partisans. Not many, and not as soon as he’d hoped—but enough, and in time.

He’d flushed out his enemies by coming here; their surprise was complete.

Nida leapt to the ground, lightsaber glowing, impaling one of Jariad’s thugs as she landed. Two converged upon her position, only to be cut in half. She threw a third into the temple wall, just behind. There wasn’t much fighting ground by the cliffside, but Nida was already dominating it. Jariad himself had backed away before the kill, joining his Sabers in their fight.

A muffled explosion came from the mansion farther up the hill. Gloyd,Korsin knew. Gritting his teeth, he dabbed at the gash on his chest. He wasn’t coming back from this, he knew. The ground faltered beneath him. There wasn’t much left.

But he looked up again at Nida.

So strong. His future for the Sith, battling Seelah’s future. And winning.

Wincing in pain, Korsin crawled back from the precipice toward the fray. Jariad, injured and struggling to stall his sibling’s advance, looked back in surprise.

“You’re right, Jariad,” Korsin said, choking back blood. “It’s time for me to go—but not without my last official act. And it’s overdue.”

Adari should have been more surprised. By nightfall, more than a thousand Keshiri had arrived near the foot of the Spire, leading five times that many riderless uvak. The mill_9780345519412_2p_all_r1.qxp:8p insert template 2/25/10 1:27 PM

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mob of beasts circling high above the smoking formation had given the appearance of a living, leathery halo. It was stirring, but disappointing: this many would barely have filled the uvak pens in the southern foothills.

Adari had given up scanning the horizon long before her compatriots did. At midnight, a lone rider from Tahv had arrived, breathless and terrified. His report confirmed her suspicion. Tona had fallen under Nida Korsin’s spell and revealed all their plans.

It had been hopeless from the beginning; someone would have betrayed them. Tona was just the weakest.

Adari had turned away before she heard whether Nida had rewarded Tona, or killed him. Nothing mattered anymore.

What hadsurprised Adari was what had happened next. She’d expected everyone to leave. To fly away, free their uvak, and melt back into Keshiri society before the Sith found them. Instead, when she’d somberly taken to the clouds on Nink and headed for the dark river of air, she’d found the entire entourage in her wake.

She’d fallen asleep, assuming Nink would surrender to gravity in the night. So many others had already fallen away. Her turn would come.

But she awoke to something else.

From above, the spit of land was no more than a seam between the waves, a chain of reefs adjoining a mucky surface barely larger than her old neighborhood. Nothing about it suggested a haven. But the jet stream had given out—and so had Nink. Of the riders who had begun, fewer than three hundred remained. It was this, or nothing.

And this is close to nothing,she thought as she padded across the salty grime of the beach. The mainland had provided everything the Keshiri needed to thrive. Here, bare necessities would have to be clawed for. Infrequent rains pooled fresh water on concave reefs. The uvak, use-

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less in these doldrums, would have to be culled dramati-cally to give the scant vegetation a chance. Their flesh was barely edible; their carcasses yielded the only building materials.

To her intellectual pursuits, the island offered nothing at all. Just the same volcanic rubble from beach to hill-crest. Years in a purgatory of her own making weren’t enough, it seemed: now she must be bored to death. All she’d found was an ancient Keshiri corpse—another lonely victim of the oceanic air currents.

Why couldn’t the Sith have landedhere ?

She knew the answer. The Sith had been trapped in such a place. To save herself—from them, and from the elders—she had set them loose. Korsin had been right, those years ago. We all do what we have to do.

They were doing it now. Adari looked at Nink, dying of exhaustion, forked feet barely responding to the caresses of the surf. She couldn’t simply bury him when the time came; he’d be needed, just like the rest. The uvak were integral to their survival—but disposable when necessary.

The Sith had looked upon the Keshiri in exactly the same way.

Adari studied her people, toiling mutely on the island.

They expected they wouldn’t survive the year. Worse, anyone who came looking for them would not be a savior.

Perhaps Korsin’s Sith worried about the same thing, she thought. Perhaps the tales were true. Perhaps the real Skyborn, the trueProtectors of legend, were out there somewhere, hunting for the Sith.

She didn’t believe it.

But then, she never had.

Seelah awoke on a slab in her old sick ward. There wasn’t any difference between the patient accommoda-

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tions and the biers in the morgue; it was all cold marble, just as everything in the accursed temple was.

She was moving now—only her legs weren’t. She remembered it all. Seconds after she saw Nida arrive, Gloyd brought the fight into her chamber. Gloyd had always bragged that whoever took him out wouldn’t live to celebrate. Indeed, cornered by Seelah and her confederates, Gloyd had activated something he must have had literally up his sleeve since the crash: a proton detonator.

The Houk’s insurance policy had brought the room down on the entire party.

The Force had helped free Seelah from the rubble that pinned her from the knees down, but nothing could make her walk again. She didn’t need her medical training to recognize that. She’d worked tirelessly to become a perfect specimen of humanity, something for the Tribe to aspire to. Now, sitting up and surveying her cuts and bruises, she knew she would never live up to her old example again.

“You’re awake.” came a soft female voice. “Good.”

Seelah craned her neck to see her daughter in the doorway, wearing her outfit from Dedication Day. When Nida didn’t move to enter, Seelah used her aching arms to turn herself.

“You’re going to be doing a lot of that,” Nida said, stepping inside and dipping a cup into a basin. She drank deeply and exhaled. “Oh, when you need it, the water’s over here.” She looked away.

Nida explained how she had learned from Tona Vaal of the plan to steal the Sith’s uvak, timed just when as many important Sith as possible would be on the mountain. It had taken her more time than she expected, but she had foiled the plot in Tahv and hurried to her father’s side. “I guess you can feel it—Father’s gone.”

Seelah licked her lips, tasting her own dried blood.

“Yes. And Jariad?”

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“Father tried to throw him over the side with the Force,” Nida said. “He tried . . . and when he failed, Idid it.”

Seelah looked blankly at her daughter.

“I hated to use poor Tona like that,” Nida said, “but he thought he had something I wanted.” She took another sip and dropped the cup. “We had something in common, you know. Our mothers had no use for our fathers.”

Tona had revealed that the conspirators were taking the uvak to the Sessal Spire, but he knew nothing beyond that. “There’s no sign of them there,” Nida said. “Our guess is they plunged themselves into the lava pit. In spite—or fear. It doesn’t matter.” Sith or Keshiri, dissent was finished on Kesh. It had been a productive day.

“I came here because we just had the reading of Father’s final testament,” she said. It existed—in her care. “He commends his legacy to me—and the three surviving High Lords have ratified it. So you see? You arethe mother of the new Grand Lord. Congratulations.”

Nida beamed. At her age, she could expect to rule Kesh for decades to come. “Or until the Sith come to rescue us.”

Seelah sneered. “You area child.” She slid from the slab, only to brace herself against it with her hands when her feet failed to respond. “No one’s coming for us. Your father knew that.”

“He told me. It doesn’t really matter to me, one way or the other.”

“It should,” Seelah said, struggling to straighten. “If I tell those people out there . . .”

Nida casually replaced the cup and stepped back toward the doorway. “There’s no one out there,” she said. “Perhaps you should hear the rest of Father’s final wishes.” Henceforth, she explained, on the death of the Grand Lord, that person’s spouse and household laborers, too, would be sacrificed. “Technically, to honor him mill_9780345519412_2p_all_r1.qxp:8p insert template 2/25/10 1:27 PM

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or her—but you and I know what it’s about.” She ran her gloved fingers through her hair. “I imagine it’s going to put a crimp in my social life, but I’ll cope.”

Seelah caught her breath. “You mean . . . ?”

“Relax,” Nida said. “ Henceforth.No, I’ve ordered that all Sith remove themselves from this mountain, in honor of Father’s passing. While I live, none may return here. This is your new home—again.” And with that, she stepped out into the courtyard.

It took Seelah painful minutes to follow, dragging herself across the stonework. Nida was stepping onto the stirrup of her uvak, surrounded by hejarbo-shoot crates of fruits and vegetables. More would be dropped by reg-ular uvak overflights, Nida said; the only creatures, wild or trained, to be allowed in the airspace above the temple. Elsewhere in the compound, access to Omen’s shel-ter had been cut off. Below, the path up the mountain was being barricaded, even now. It had been painstak-ingly carved, but it would now be blocked forever.

What remained, Seelah saw as she looked around, was the cold temple she had come to despise living in. A home fit only for a goddess on high—forever. Alone.

“Nida,” Seelah coughed as Nida began to take flight.

“Nida, you’re my child.”

“Yes, that’s what they tell me. Good-bye.”

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Read on for an excerpt from

Star Wars: Fate of the Jedi:Allies by Christie Golden

Published by Del Rey Books

A b o a r d t h e J a d e S h a d o w Ben wondered if he’d be his father’s age before things started going right for him on any basis other than what appeared to be happy accidents.

Then he wondered if he’d be older than his dad.

True, he’d had a couple of uneventful years after the war. But then his father got arrested and exiled for a decade. Jedi who had spent formative years on Shelter in the Maw—and yes, Ben was among that number, how reassuring was thatlittle fact—started going crazy.

Ben and Luke had learned about some creepily powerful being with dark slithery mental tendrils of needwho was probably responsible for the crazy Jedi, and had been going to pay her a visit inside the Maw when they abducted a Sith. One that was definitely easy on the eyes, but who was nonetheless a Sith, from a whole planetload of them, no less. A Sith who was still with them right now, standing and smirking at them while nearly a dozen frigates crammed with her pals surrounded them.

Yeah. He would definitelybe older than his dad.

Luke had followed the instructions given by the unnamed, unseen Sith commander of the Black Wave,mill_9780345519412_2p_all_r1.qxp:8p insert template 2/25/10 1:27 PM

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placing the Shadowin orbit around Dathomir. There was no other choice, not with eleven ChaseMaster frigates ready to open fire.

“A wise decision,” Vestara said. “I’m fond of my own life, so I’m glad you’re cooperating, but if you had attempted to flee they most certainly would have destroyed you.”

Luke eyed her thoughtfully. Clearly, he wasn’t so sure.

“So,” Ben continued, “what are they going to do with us? Are we going to be the main attraction at some kind of Sith ritual party?”

“I’ve no idea,” Vestara said. She might be lying through her teeth. She might be telling the truth. Ben simply couldn’t be sure.

“Your cooperation is appreciated, Master Skywalker,”

came the voice that had first hailed them. Ben and Luke exchanged puzzled glances. Of course Vestara had told them who was holding her captive, but why the cour-tesy and respectful title?

“I am High Lord Sarasu Taalon, commander of this force,” the voice continued. “Your reputation precedes you. We have studied you, and your son, a great deal.”

“I wish I could say the same,” Luke said. “I know nothing about you and your people, High Lord Taalon.”

“No, you don’t. But I am prepared for that to change . . . somewhat. Your vessel carries a Z-95

Headhunter.”

“It does,” Luke said. “I presume you’re about to ask me to come over to your flagship and chat over a nice glass of something.”

“You and Vestara, yes,” Taalon said. “You will have to turn her back over to us, of course. But there is no reason we can’t be civilized about this.”

“No thanks,” Luke said. “Anything you have to say to me can be said at a distance. Vestara isn’t the worst mill_9780345519412_2p_all_r1.qxp:8p insert template 2/25/10 1:27 PM

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companion I’ve ever traveled with. I think I’ll let her stay here with us for a while longer.”

Ben looked again at the Sith girl. His father was right. She wasn’tthe worst companion he’d ever traveled with.

“Let us revisit that subject in a moment,” came Taalon’s reply. “As I’m sure you know by now, Apprentice Vestara Khai has done a commendable job of keeping us informed of what has transpired. We are aware that you are having

. . . difficulty with certain Jedi who were fostered inside the Maw. We believe this is due to the intervention of a being known to us as Abeloth, whom Vestara encoun-tered. Many of our own apprentices are displaying the same symptoms as your younger Jedi.”

“Your younger Sith were in the Maw as well?”

“No. But such identical displays of aberrant behav-ior cannot be attributed to anything else.”

Ben was skeptical. But there was so much they didn’t know yet. His father’s blue eyes met his and he shrugged slightly. It was possible.

“We are many. You are only two,” Taalon continued.

“We have a common cause.”

“Are—are you proposing a formal alliance?” Luke was so surprised he didn’t even bother to hide it. Ben, too, literally gaped for a moment. Vestara seemed more shocked than any of them, judging by her expression and her feeling in the Force.

“Precisely.”

Luke started to laugh. “I’m sorry, but that doesn’t sound like a very Sith thing to say.”

The voice was cold when Taalon spoke again. “This creature, this . . . Abeloth . . . has the audacity to reach out and harm ourapprentices. Ourtyros. To toy with the Tribe—the Sith. The insult cannot be borne. It willnot be borne. We are going into the Maw to teach her a lesson.”

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Ben glanced at his father. “That, however, isa very Sith thing to say.”

Luke nodded. To Taalon, he said, “It may be that we do not need to teach her a lesson, as it were. We may simply need to find out why she is doing this.”

“And ask her nicely to please stop?” Ben thought Han Solo could learn a thing or two from this Sith about infusing one’s voice with sarcasm.

“You just asked me nicely to help you out. Clearly you’re capable of good manners,” Luke replied, unruf-fled. “If it accomplishes the goal with fewer or perhaps no casualties, how is that not the best solution?”

There was silence. “It is possible she may not be amenable to . . . polite conversation. What then, Master Skywalker?”

“I will do whatever is necessary to free the ill Jedi from her control,” Luke said. “I assure you of that.”

His voice was not harsh, but there was a tone in it Ben recognized. The deed was almost as good as done when Luke Skywalker spoke like that.

“You agree, then?” Taalon asked.

Luke didn’t answer at once. Ben knew what he was struggling with. And he was surprised that it was even a struggle for the Grand Master. Luke was a Jedi. These were Sith. There couldn’t possibly be an alliance. Everyone would constantly be watching one another’s backs.

But then again . . . He glanced at Vestara. She came from an entire culture of Sith. They couldn’t be back-stabbing one another constantly—they’d have become extinct long ago. Somehow this flavor of Sith had learned how to cooperate. Vestara had proved it was possible. She had worked with Ben and his father before, on Dathomir, and that cooperation had saved Luke Skywalker’s life.

“We do have a common goal,” Luke said at last. “It mill_9780345519412_2p_all_r1.qxp:8p insert template 2/25/10 1:27 PM

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Christie Golden

would be better to work toward it together rather than getting in each other’s way. But don’t think that I will not be expecting treachery at every turn. There are fewer enmities more ancient than that of Sith and Jedi.”

A sigh. “This thing we both fight might be older than that,” Taalon said. “Well, I did not expect this to be a particularly comradely union. Very well. You deliver Vestara Khai. Together, in an alliance not seen since this galaxy was new, Sith and Jedi will confront and defeat their mutual foe—one way or the other. And after that . . . well, let us see where we stand then, shall we?”