Authors: Troy Denning
The eyes of both Masters lit with comprehension, and Luke said, “The same time
ours
suddenly lost her strength and fled the fight.”
“So the two bodies were linked,” Corran said. “Kill one, weaken the other?”
Jaina nodded. “I think so,” she said. “Tahiri knew the exact time because she was expecting a turbolaser strike at midday, and we knew the exact time because we had to blow the shield generator at midday.
Our
Abeloth was winning—until the precise moment they killed
theirs
.”
“That would explain what happened to Dyon Stadd in the Maw,” Luke said. “I
knew
I was killing Abeloth when I fought her there—”
“But you were killing just
one
part,” Saba said. “The part that was in the body of Dyon Stadd.”
Luke nodded. “Exactly. And when that part died, the part in Abeloth’s
other
body was weakened, too—the same way that the Abeloth here in the Temple was weakened when Fett and Tahiri killed the one on Hagamoor Three.”
“Then I fear we may be running out of time,” Cilghal said, looking out the viewport. The Galactic Justice Center was swaying more wildly than ever now, and pieces of debris could be seen falling from its balconies into a series of dark, smoking chasms that had opened in Fellowship Plaza around its base. “Each time we have killed one of Abeloth’s bodies, the other part has fled to hide and recuperate.”
“That’s right,” Kyp Durron agreed, addressing himself to Luke. “When you killed the part in Dyon’s body, the other part left the Maw and went to Pydyr to recover. When you killed another body on Pydyr, the second Abeloth fled to Nam Chorios to recuperate. If she stays true to form, she’ll be leaving Coruscant any minute now—if she’s not already gone.”
“A good observation,” Kyle Katarn said. “But the pattern is rather different now.”
“Different how?” asked Nek Bwua’tu. “Because there are three parts this time?”
“For starters, yes,” Kyle said. “First, we have the part that Tahiri and Fett killed on Hagamoor Three. Second, we have the part that Luke and his team fought in the ventilation system. Presumably, she is the part that’s now on Pinnacle Platform. Third, we have the part that Chief Dorvan reports is living inside the computer core.”
“And if there can be three parts, why not four?” asked Nek. “Why not five, or a hundred, scattered across the entire galaxy?”
“Because all of Abeloth’s bodies are part of one Force entity, yes?” Barratk’l asked in her gravelly voice. “She has grown much in power since we discovered her, but each time we kill a part, she is weakened. So there are limits. As she grows stronger, those limits rise. And now she has three bodies.”
“That we
know
of,” Kyle reminded her.
“Yes, but there is a correlation, or she would not need to hide from us when a part of her has been killed,” Barratk’l said. “So we must ask ourselves this: what, exactly, are we harming when we kill a body she has taken?”
She turned an expectant eye toward Cilghal, who—as the Jedi Order’s most knowledgeable healer—was the most likely source for an answer. The Mon Calamari nodded and raised a finger to indicate that she was contemplating the question. When she finally looked up, her bulbous eyes looked uncertain.
“The answer must lie in the Force,” she said. “But it is difficult to grasp without knowing how she takes control of her victims. If it was just Force telepathy, or a simple exertion of will, she wouldn’t be harmed when one of her bodies is killed. She would simply withdraw and find another.”
“I saw her take Lydea Pagorski,” Dorvan said tentatively. “Would it help if I tried to describe the process?”
All eyes swung toward him, and Cilghal said, “Very much, Chief Dorvan.”
Dorvan’s face went pale and blank, the way torture victims’ faces did when they relived their torment. But he swallowed hard and said, “I’ll do my best.”
“Just take your time and tell us everything you can remember,” Cilghal said. “No detail is too small.”
Dorvan nodded. “It seemed very fast,” he said. “Abeloth was using Roki Kem’s body at the time, but it wasn’t holding up well. The skin was starting to peel, and her eyes were starting to bulge.”
Jaina saw Luke exchange glances with Saba and Corran. No doubt they were all thinking the same thing that she was—that Abeloth had been hiding in plain sight the whole time they were searching for her.
“Those are very helpful details, Chief Dorvan,” Cilghal assured him. “Please continue.”
Dorvan closed his eyes, then said, “First, Roki Kem told Pagorski that she was simply going to erase her memory of what she had seen inside the Temple. Pagorski believed her, so she didn’t resist. Then Kem grabbed Pagorski’s head and locked gazes with her. For a moment, nothing happened. Then the air started to shimmer between them. Pagorski’s eyes opened, and she looked terrified.”
Dorvan paused and began to shake as he recalled what happened next. “Kem’s fingers started to grow, then her arms suddenly dissolved into tentacles, and she … well, she became Abeloth. I mean, she always
was
Abeloth, but now I could see her real nature.”
“Can you describe her?” Cilghal asked.
“She had coarse yellow hair and eyes that weren’t really eyes—just silver points of light set deep in the sockets,” he said. “Her mouth was more like a deep gash. It stretched most of the way across her face.”
“No doubt about it, that’s Abeloth,” Luke said. “What happened next?”
“Well, Pagorski started to scream, then Abeloth’s tentacles shot down her throat,” Dorvan said, still keeping his eyes closed. “And into her ears and nostrils. Pagorski made very horrible sounds, like she was
gagging and choking, and the tentacles started to pulse. After a few seconds, Pagorski just collapsed and hung from the tentacles, looking terrified.”
Dorvan fell silent, no doubt lost in a memory more terrifying than any nightmare.
After a few moments, Cilghal prompted gently, “And that was the end of it?”
Dorvan shook his head. “That was just the beginning,” he said. “After a while, the terror finally drained from Pagorski’s face. I thought maybe she had died. But then her face turned so pale that I could see the tentacles writhing around under her skin, pumping something dark and viscous through her nose—up into her sinuses—and down into her throat. I didn’t think there was any way she could live through that, but she did. I could see her chest rising and falling as she breathed, and she never—well, she never went slack, the way dead people do. Finally, she seemed to get stronger, and she sort of looked at me and smiled. But it wasn’t just Pagorski looking. She was still in there, and I could see in her eyes that she was going crazy with fear. But Abeloth was in there, too—and she was enjoying it.”
“As though she were feeding on it?” Luke asked.
Dorvan opened his eyes and thought for a moment, then nodded. “Yes,” he said. “Exactly like that. She was feeding on the fear.”
“We’ve seen that before,” Luke said. “On Pydyr, Abeloth seemed to be creating an aura of fear so she could draw on the dark side energies it released. We’re fairly certain it’s how she rejuvenates herself.”
“A Force being that feeds on fear?” Dorvan looked through the viewport, out over the battle havoc that filled Fellowship Plaza, and shook his head in open despair. “In that case, Master Skywalker, you had better kill her soon—while it is still possible.”
“That’s what we’re doing here, Chief—trying to figure out how,” Kyp said. “What else can you tell us?”
“Nothing more about taking Pagorski’s body,” Dorvan said. “I’m afraid my memory after that is … well, muddled. But I think you should hear what happened when I killed her.”
A dozen brows rose, and Saba Sebatyne sissed and slapped her palm on the arm of her chair. “Thank you, Chief. This one needed a joke!”
Barratk’l shot a furry glower across the table at the Barabel. “I think the Chief is serious, Master Sebatyne.” She turned to Dorvan. “Yes?”
Dorvan nodded, but shot a self-deprecating smile in Saba’s direction. “Master Sebatyne has every right to laugh,” he said. “You see, Abeloth
wanted
me to kill her.”
Most of the beings at the table once again began to look at Dorvan as though he were having a breakdown, but Kyle Katarn merely cocked his head in curiosity.
“I’m afraid we’re not really following you, Chief,” he said. “Why would Abeloth
want
you to kill one of her bodies?”
Dorvan shrugged. “Maybe because it was wearing out, or maybe because she was going to enter the computer core anyway,” he said. “All I can tell you is that I stole a hold-out blaster and put a couple of bolts through her head. The next thing I know, I’m flying into a wall—and I discover that she has manifested herself out in the computer core. I realized later that the whole thing was just a trap for Ben.”
Luke shifted forward in his chair. “For Ben?” he asked. “What makes you think it was just for Ben?”
“Because Ben is the one they took.” Dorvan looked over at the Horns, then said, “But maybe you should ask Valin or Jysella. They were in a better state of mind than I to make that judgment.”
“There’s no doubt about it,” Valin said, stepping forward. “Looking back, Abeloth was trying to isolate Ben from the moment we started down the corridor. She could have taken us all out along the way, but she wanted Ben alive.”
“I’d even say that she might have been driving us toward the computer core just to set up Ben’s capture,” Jysella agreed. “Everything was timed to the millisecond, then once she had Ben, she left the rest of us alone.”
“Which isn’t to say she actually let us go, in case anyone’s wondering,” Valin said. “She just left us to the Sith and didn’t expend any more of her own effort on us.”
Jaina understood the need for the clarification. Valin and Jysella Horn had been among the first Jedi Knights to become infected with the Force psychosis when Abeloth began to reach out from her prison in the Maw, and they had actually become her spies for a time. Fortunately,
they had been cured after Abeloth’s defeat on Nam Chorios, and everyone assumed the cure was complete. Still, had the Masters known where Abeloth was hiding when they were preparing to storm the Temple, the Horn siblings were the last two Jedi Knights they would have sent in with the initial wave.
“And Abeloth didn’t reach out to you at all while you were inside the Temple?” Cilghal asked. “You had no episodes of paranoia or confusion?”
“We didn’t say that,” Valin replied with a grin. “We’re
still
trying to figure out why she took Ben and ignored us. It seems kind of suspicious.”
“I think I may know the answer,” Jaina said. She turned to Dorvan. “You said the body you killed in the computer core was wearing out?”
“That’s right,” Dorvan replied. “She was pretty emaciated by then.”
“And this was Roki Kem’s body, correct?”
“That’s right,” Dorvan replied. “Didn’t I say that?”
“I just wanted to be sure.” Jaina looked back to the rest of the table. “When I spoke to Tahiri Veila, she mentioned that Pagorski’s body was deteriorating, too. In fact, Tahiri said the only reason she and Fett survived was because Abeloth didn’t
want
to kill Tahiri. She wanted to trade Pagorski’s body for Tahiri’s.”
“Of course,” Cilghal said. “Pagorski and Kem weren’t Force-users. Their bodies would not tolerate so much Force energy.”
“That doesn’t explain the focus on Ben,” Kyle said. “If it was just a matter of being a Force-user, Abeloth could have taken Valin or Jysella—or one of her Sith servants—just as easily. It’s something else … something that makes Ben special.”
“Well, he
is
a Skywalker,” Kyp Durron pointed out. “The grandson of the Chosen One.”
“And Jaina is a
granddaughter
of the Chosen One,” Luke countered. “I’m more inclined to think it has something to do with Shelter. Maybe Abeloth just wants him because he withdrew from her touch when he was a toddler.”
Kyp shook his head. “Sorry, but no,” he said. “Jaina is Han’s daughter just as much as Leia’s, and that means only one parent is a Force-user. Ben is the son of
two
parents who were both
very
strong in
the Force. No offense to Jaina, but Ben has Special Destiny written all over him.”
Luke’s face fell, and Jaina could tell by the silence that followed that he saw the wisdom of Kyp’s suggestion—as did everyone else at the table. Abeloth had gone after Ben because of what Ben was … and that meant she had something special in mind for him.
“Okay,” Luke said at last. “Abeloth wants Ben for a reason. Any ideas what that might be?”
A chirrupy voice spoke out from the wall behind Jaina. “No specific ideas,” Tekli said. “But the time has come to discuss what we learned about Abeloth from the Killiks.”
“By all means, if you think it will help.” Luke waved Tekli and Lowbacca toward the open space on the other side of the table, then turned to the rest of the attendees and explained, “Jedi Lowbacca and Tekli have
just
returned from a mission to learn what the Killiks know about Abeloth. I understand that Jedi Thul was forced to remain behind in exchange for the information, but from the little I’ve heard about it, they have uncovered some very interesting history.”
As Tekli stepped to the table, a sudden jolt shook the room, then quickly diminished into a series of sporadic shudders. Dorvan and several of the nonmilitary personnel began to eye the floor with uncertainty and fear. Nek Bwua’tu merely cleared his throat and muttered something about a blasted groundquake, but Jaina—and no doubt the other Jedi in the room—felt the wave of fear that came from the Galactic Justice Center. When she looked out the viewport, she saw that fissures had begun to appear in Fellowship Plaza’s undulating deck, and now there were long columns of smoke rising through the cracks.
“Maybe we’d better rush that strike on Pinnacle Platform,” Kyp suggested, “before the Galactic Justice Center collapses into the undercity.”
“Don’t you mean before we finish a proper evaluation of the battlefield?” Nek Bwua’tu countered. “Rushing into a fight half blind has never saved a blasted thing, son. We’ll
all
be better off if the Masters stay here and do their jobs. You’re leaders. And leaders are supposed to plan and think—not rush into an ambush every time the enemy does something unexpected.”