Jedi under Siege

5

From the Shadow Academy’s crowded hangar bay, Zekk watched the final preparations for the attack. The frenzy of bustling troops, mixed with their brooding anger and lust for destruction, galvanized him. He felt as if the lines of Force around him had been set on fire.

The hub of the activity was an immense hovering battle platform that dominated the hangar bay. Constructed specifically for this most important assault on the Rebel Alliance, the movable tactical platform bristled with weaponry. Stormtroopers crawled over its armored surface, preparing to launch. Guided by the ominous Nightsister Tamith Kai, the platform would be the staging point for the ground combat, Jedi versus Jedi.

At the battle platform’s helm she stood, eager for vengeance. Her long black cape slithered around her with a hissing sound, like snakes coming out to strike. Spines, taken from the carapace of a murderous giant insect, protruded from her shoulders. Her black hair curled around her head like ebony wires, writhing and crackling with dark powers, each strand seemingly alive and malevolent.

Tamith Kai’s violet eyes burned as she ordered the stormtroopers to board the battle platform, gathering her inner power. Her onyx-scaled armor clung to her muscular, well-formed body. Her demeanor spoke of power and confidence—and a yearning for destruction.

Zekk tended to his own duties. He himself had been a target of Tamith Kai’s suspicious thoughts. The Nightsister didn’t trust him. She felt that his commitment to the dark side wasn’t strong enough, that he was blinded by his former friendship with the Jedi twins, Jacen and Jaina Solo.

Zekk had been trained as the prize student of Lord Brakiss, and had defeated the Nightsister’s own protege Vilas in a duel to the death. By winning the duel, Zekk had gained the title of Darkest Knight. And Tamith Kai—perhaps because she was simply a sore loser, or perhaps because she sensed his flickering doubts—rarely let him out of her sight.

But Brakiss had given him command of the Shadow Academy’s new Force-wielders who would be the vanguard of the battle to reclaim the galaxy. He himself would lead the Dark Jedi strike force, dropping like death from the skies to obliterate Master Skywalker’s trainees.

Zekk drew a deep breath, smelled the metallic tang in the cold air. He heard coolants pumping, engines powering up, the clatter of stormtrooper armor, preparatory signals as systems were locked down. They were ready to launch.

Zekk turned to his group of Force-talented warriors. He wore his crimson-lined black cape and his leather armor; his lightsaber hung clipped at his side, waiting to be used. He had secured his long dark hair in a neat ponytail, and his emerald-green eyes flashed at those gathered around him.

“Feel the Force move through you,” he said to the other trainees. They stood with their jaws set, their eyes alert, eager for battle. They had been trained for this.

He gestured to the waiting platform, and the Dark Jedi moved with a fluid motion as they entered the armored vessel. “We must strike the Jedi academy now, before we lose our element of surprise.”

The TIE pilot’s helmet fit perfectly on his gray-haired head. Along with the breathing mask, goggles, black flight suit, padded gloves, and heavy boots, the uniform seemed to transport Qorl back to a different time, a time when he had been much younger … a pilot for the first Empire.

Years ago, he had flown with his wing of TIE fighters from the original Death Star to attack the desperate fleet of Rebel X-wings. He had been shot down in combat, spiralling down to crash-land in the wilds of Yavin 4. When he had looked behind him, to his absolute horror and disbelief Qorl had watched the invincible Death Star blow up, leaving him stranded on the miserable little moon.

After recovering from his injuries, Qorl had lived like a hermit for over twenty years until four young Jedi trainees had stumbled upon him … setting in motion the events that had returned him to the Second Imperium.

And now, Qorl found himself boarding another TIE fighter, launching from another battle station—once more ready to defeat the Rebels. This time, though, he was sure it would end differently. This time the Empire would make no mistakes.

Qorl stood in front of his wing of twelve TIE fighters. Crowded into the side of the launching bay, the small fighters would take off as soon as the battle platform descended. He turned to his troops, all of them unproven fighters, taken from the ranks of the most ambitious new stormtrooper trainees. The new pilots had never seen combat. They had only practiced, performing simulation after simulation—but he knew they were itching for a real fight. The pilots stood beside their ships, clothed in identical black flight suits and helmets.

One new pilot fidgeted with obvious eagerness, glancing toward his TIE fighter, studying the laser cannon turrets, anxious to be off. He finally stepped forward. The fighter removed his helmet and held it against his chest. Even before seeing the young man’s wide face, though, Qorl knew it was the broad-shouldered Norys, former leader of the Lost Ones gang.

“Excuse me, sir—I have a suggestion,” Norys said. “In light of my superior performance during the simulations, since I scored better than any of these others, I think I should be the one to lead this wing.”

Qorl quelled his anger. “I … understand your reasons, Norys. You have done excellent work in your cross-training as a TIE pilot and stormtrooper. You are eager to learn and, presumably, to serve the Second Imperium. But I must turn down your request this time.”

“On what basis?”

Sensing the challenge in the young man’s voice, Qorl kept his answer firm and direct. “On the basis that Brakiss chose me to command this mission. If you prefer not to follow orders, however …” He shrugged, leaving the implication hanging in the air between them.

The boy was rude and so often insubordinate that if he hadn’t shown such a true aptitude for weaponry and fighting skills, Qorl would certainly have left him behind. Too much was at stake in this mission to allow an overeager young man to botch things up.

Norys flushed. “I think you are afraid, Qorl. You’re old and haven’t flown a mission in years. You’re leading the wing so you can hold us back to cover your own failures.”

“That will be all,” Qorl said in a voice that, although quiet, was so commanding that the air cracked with tension. “I give you the choice: say the word and I’ll ground you from this mission, or hold your tongue and fight for your Emperor.” At the moment Qorl didn’t care what the surly young man chose. He would gladly take a smaller fighting wing if it was the only way to ensure that all his pilots were well disciplined.

Fuming, Norys struggled to keep silent and rammed the black helmet back onto his head.

Qorl spoke, more to divert attention from the outburst than for any other reason. “We have successfully jammed all signals from the Jedi academy. They are unable to call for reinforcements. Since no battleships are in orbit, the foolish Jedi Knights must have assumed that their own powers and their puny energy shield would be enough to thwart us.

“According to our monitoring systems, our first Imperial commando raid has already succeeded in removing their shields. The Jedi academy lies open and vulnerable to our attack.

“When Tamith Kai launches her battle platform to guide the military strike, Lord Zekk will take his Dark Jedi trainees and combat the Jedi Knights directly. Our wing will fly harassment strikes from the air. Although we are meant to cause considerable damage, our mission is to support, not to serve as the front line of attack. Is that understood?”

The pilots murmured their understanding. Qorl couldn’t tell if Norys’s voice had joined them.

“Very well. To your ships,” he said.

His pilots scrambled into their cockpits, and Qorl settled in behind the pilot’s controls of the lead TIE fighter. He drew a deep breath through the filtering mask, smelling the delicious and familiar chemical taint of the air from his tanks.

He smiled. It felt so good to be able to fly once again.

From the helm of the tactical battle platform Tamith Kai shouted, “Let us be off. We shall return victorious before this day is done!”

The great hangar bay doors opened, revealing the blackness of space shared with the emerald moon, behind which loomed the boiling orange cauldron of the gas giant Yavin. The moon looked insignificant against the panorama of the universe—but it was the Shadow Academy’s target, destined to become the site of a furious battle and an Imperial victory.

Tamith Kai commanded the battle platform to rise up on its repulsorlifts and head out of the Shadow Academy. The military vessel appeared to be a large, flattened sailbarge with rounded corners, two levels high, with an upper command deck that would open to the air once they reached the atmosphere. Armed stormtroopers and ground assault forces filled the first level, while Zekk and his Dark Jedi took their positions in the bottom bay near the drop doors.

The battle platform descended through space toward the thin fingernail of atmosphere around the green moon. As the minutes passed, Zekk paced back and forth. He looked out the viewports and saw the ring station high overhead, dwindling as the battle platform increased speed toward Yavin 4.

“Packs ready?” he asked, adjusting the equipment strapped across his chest and back. His black cape hung over it, its scarlet inner lining flashing as he moved. His squad of Dark Jedi checked their weapons, scores of identical lightsabers manufactured aboard the Shadow Academy. The team members adjusted their repulsorpacks on their shoulders. One by one they declared their readiness.

The blackness of space was streaked with white haze as the battle platform plunged headfirst into the atmosphere. Zekk felt a buffeting vibration as the winds clawed the armored plates.

The hull heated up, and Zekk could sense the ionized scream of the Shockwave through the air, but Tamith Kai piloted the battle platform expertly, without hesitation, directly toward their target.

The Nightsister’s deep, hard voice came over the comm. “We’re approaching target altitude. Zekk, prepare your Dark Jedi for departure. The air-drop doors will open in one standard minute.”

Zekk clapped his gloved hands, ordering the Dark Jedi to stand in ranks. “The repulsorpacks will carry you,” he said, “but use your Force abilities to guide your descent. We must strike directly These are our sworn enemies, Luke Skywalker’s Jedi Knights. The future of the galaxy hinges on our victory today.”

Zekk fixed his penetrating gaze on each one of the trainees, trying to impart a fraction of his determination to them. They were valiant warriors, vowing to succeed in their quest.

But Zekk had not yet dealt with his own inner turmoil. He knew in his heart that Tamith Kai’s doubts about his loyalty had a legitimate foundation—he did feel a longing friendship toward his dear friend Jaina Solo and her brother Jacen.

Deep in the forests of Kashyyyk he had warned Jaina to stay away from the Jedi academy. He did not want her to be part of this battle today. He did not want her to become a victim.

But he knew with equal certainty that the Jaina Solo he knew and cared for would never stay away to save herself and leave her friends to die. He dreaded the thought that she might be down there ready to fight against him.

Zekk was grateful to have his thoughts interrupted as the floor thumped and the drop-bay doors creaked open. A line of brighter air like a thin, toothless smile appeared at their feet and then yawned wide. The jungle treetops were visible below, punctuated by the protruding stone towers of ancient Massassi temples.

“All right, my Dark Jedi,” Zekk shouted into the howling wind. “The hour is ours. Depart!” Leading the charge, he dove into the sky, switched on his repulsorpack, and tumbled toward the unprotected Jedi academy.

Behind him the other Dark Jedi dropped from the battle platform one by one, falling like deadly birds of prey.

In flight Zekk ignited his lightsaber, holding it out like a glowing beacon. He glanced up to see the other assault troops similarly extending their blazing weapons, capes fluttering behind them.

Dark Jedi rained down from the sky.