Lightsabers

13

Flanked by a pair of Hapan Stinger security escort vehicles, the Shadow Chaser touched down lightly on the main landing pad of the Fountain Palace. In the cockpit, Luke Skywalker gave a small sigh of relief. Letting his eyes fall closed for a moment, he reached deep within himself, found the calm core of Force at his center, and then focused outward.

Artoo-Detoo gave a short warble, and Luke opened his eyes to find all three young Jedi Knights already unbuckled from their crash webbing and scrambling toward the exit hatch, barely able to restrain their impatience. Jacen bounced nervously from one foot to another, while Lowie raked fingers through his ginger fur in an effort to smooth it down. Jaina shrugged and looked at him. “Well, what are we waiting for, Uncle Luke?”

Chuckling, Luke released the flight interlocks, and the three Jedi trainees tumbled down the ramp as soon as it began to extend. Ta’a Chume, in the customary half-veil she wore for public appearances, was already waiting on the landing pad with a retinue of guards and attendants. Luke was pleased to see the twins and Lowie greet the old matriarch with courtesy and respect.

The former queen looked coldly at Luke as he began his greeting. “I’m sorry, but your journey here has been a complete waste, Jedi Master. You see, my granddaughter will not be able to speak with—”

Just then Jaina gave a delighted cry, and Jacen yelled, “Hey, Tenel Ka, are we ever glad to see you!” Lowie bellowed a loud Wookiee greeting. The three young visitors rushed across the landing platform to embrace their friend, who had emerged from the sparkling palace. Snatches of the excited conversation drifted to where Luke stood.

“Master Lowbacca wishes to compliment you on how, er, well-rested you look.”

“Thought we’d never see you again.”

“I am glad you came.”

“Want to hear a joke?”

Luke’s attention was drawn back to Ta’a Chume when she spoke to her nearest attendant. “I didn’t call the princess. How could she possibly—”

“I called to her,” Luke said simply.

Ta’a Chume shook her head. “Impossible. We would have picked up any transmission from your ship.”

Luke allowed himself the barest smile at her mystification. “I didn’t use a transmitter,” he said. “I called her through the Force. You may wish it weren’t true, but Tenel Ka is already more Jedi than you know.”

The matriarch raised her brows, but her eyes were unreadable. “We shall see, Jedi Master. The princess may yet get over that foolish notion.”

“Does it matter to you what your granddaughter wants for herself?” Luke asked bluntly. “I know it matters to her parents. When I let her leave my protection on Yavin 4 to return to Hapes, I thought her parents would be here for her. But maybe I shouldn’t have sent her away so quickly. Where are Teneniel Djo and your son Isolder?”

Luke saw indecision cloud the matriarch’s eyes, and he sensed that she was trying to decide whether she would be better served by the truth or a lie. At last she said, “Although I no longer rule the Hapes Cluster, I still have my sources of information. I learned that an attempt would be made on the lives of the royal family, so I urged my son and his wife to pay a visit of state to another system—to negotiate a liberalization of our trade agreements. The negotiations called for a royal touch, and so my son and his wife were easily persuaded. No one but myself and my most trusted advisor knew when they left or where they went.

“Tenel Ka’s accident was an unexpected complication that, unfortunately, may put her in danger, drawing assassins to her, like piranha beetles swarming toward the scent of blood. The princess will be safer here with me than at your primitive temple. She is no longer any of your business, Jedi.”

Luke shook his head, unwilling to back down. “Whether or not she remains my business will be for Tenel Ka to decide, when she is ready.”

Jacen looked around his assigned room and shook his head in amazement. It had been scarcely two hours since he had learned that Tenel Ka was a genuine princess, heir to the entire Hapes Cluster. He hadn’t even adjusted to that idea yet. And now this.

His room was more luxurious than any in the Imperial Palace on Coruscant. Rich, exotic scents filled the air, along with the sounds of trickling water, faint music, and chirping avians. Decorative fountains spattered in every room, every corridor, every courtyard, striking musical water chimes.

This was where Tenel Ka had grown up? He still couldn’t believe it. Why hadn’t she told any of her friends? Uncle Luke had known, of course, but what possible reason could Tenel Ka have had for hiding the truth from her friends for so long? Jacen didn’t understand that any more than he understood her refusal to speak to him after he had injured her with his lightsaber.

He cringed again at the thought of the harm he had caused his friend. Jacen had no idea how Uncle Luke had ever talked Tenel Ka’s sharp-tongued grandmother into allowing the twins and Lowie to stay on Hapes for an entire month. He only knew that at the appointed time Luke would return to pick up three or—he hoped—four young Jedi Knights.

A whole month. He’d have to talk to Tenel Ka about the accident soon, to clear the air. But what would he say? She wasn’t the same person he had known on the jungle moon. Not now. But then, she had never been the person he thought she was, had she? A real Hapan princess! What could he say to her?

“May I enter?” The voice startled him out of his reverie, and Jacen turned to find Tenel Ka standing at the door to his chambers.

“Sure … I mean, um, of course,” he said, blinking in surprise. “I was just thinking about you.”

Tenel Ka nodded as if she had known this and swept into the room. Dressed in a long wine-colored gown topped by a rich cape in velvety silver-gray, hair flowing freely down her back in loose, golden-red ripples, Tenel Ka looked like a stranger to Jacen. He found himself tongue-tied.

She stared at him for a long moment, as if he too were a creature from some unknown world, but when she spoke it was the same Tenel Ka. “The room—it is acceptable?”

A thousand questions, apologies, and bits of news clamored in Jacen’s mind, waiting to be spoken. But all he could manage to say was “Hey, it’s a great room. This is an amazing place. All those fountains.”

Tenel Ka nodded again. “This is a fact.”

Jacen tingled with an odd pleasure at Tenel Ka’s old familiar phrase. Looking into her cool gray eyes, Jacen struggled to collect himself and harness his racing thoughts. At last he managed to blurt out, “I’m really sorry I hurt you, Tenel Ka. It was all my fault.”

“I was to blame.”

“No,” Jacen hurried to say, “I was being stupid. I was so busy trying to impress you with my dueling skills that I didn’t even notice when your lightsaber blade started to fratz out!”

“This is not a fact,” Tenel Ka said, frowning. “My own pride caused the accident. I believed my fighting prowess could compensate for any deficiency of my weapon. I foolishly believed that the quality of the energy blade was insignificant compared with the quality of the warrior. This was also not a fact.”

Jacen shook his head. “Even so, it should never have happened. I should have—”

“The responsibility is mine,” Tenel Ka broke in, stamping one foot adamantly, her face flushed with emotion. As if she suddenly felt too hot, she unclasped her cloak and tossed it over the back of a cushioned bench, leaving both of her arms bare.

With a stubborn lift of his chin, Jacen looked at the stump of her left arm. It made him feel sick, and he wanted to turn away. This was the first time he had really seen her injury. “I … I won’t let you take all the blame. If I’d been letting the Force direct my movements, I would have sensed something was wrong.” He pointed to where her arm ended so abruptly. “And that would never have happened.”

Tenel Ka’s eyes flashed with smoky gray fire and, using her right arm to hike up her gown to a comfortable thigh level, she plopped onto the cushioned bench. “And had I been using the Force,” she argued, “I would already have known my lightsaber blade was inadequate.”

“Well, I …” Jacen stopped, unable to dredge up a counterargument to convince his infuriatingly proud friend. “I …” He cast about furiously for something else to say and finally finished, “Um, want to hear a joke?”

His mouth dropped open in amazement as Tenel Ka burst into peals of laughter. He could tell that this was neither polite amusement nor hysteria, but the laughter of enjoyment that sprang from the heart. It was a wonderful sound—one he had wanted to hear since the first day they met.

“But …” Jacen shook his head in confusion. “I didn’t even tell my joke.”

“Ah,” Tenel Ka gasped, and tears of merriment began to stream from her eyes. “Aha. I am so glad you’re here.”

Jacen shrugged as fresh waves of mirth assailed her. “I’m not objecting, mind you. I just don’t get it. What’s so funny?”

“We have often been in competition, you and I,” she said. “I have missed that. Shall we now compete for the greater share of blame?”

Jacen gave her a lopsided grin. “Nah. I guess all I really need is for you to accept my apology.”

Tenel Ka began to object but stopped herself. Her laughter faded and her expression turned sober. As if it took a great deal of effort, she said, “Apology accepted. I … forgive you, if that is what you desire.” Her last words came out in a whisper: “Jacen, my friend.”

Relief rushed through Jacen like a morning breeze clearing remnants of lingering fog. He had been holding his breath, and he nearly choked with emotion at her reply. There were no words to express the flood of feelings that welled up in him, so he sat beside Tenel Ka and put both arms around her.

Tenel Ka returned his hug, as best she could, with both arms. Shaking, she pressed a face wet with tears against his shoulder, and Jacen did not think that they were tears of laughter anymore.

When Tenel Ka and Jacen had both composed themselves, they went in search of Jaina and Lowbacca. Then Tenel Ka took the companions on a whirlwind tour of the Fountain Palace, ending at her own chambers. Because chattering went against her nature, the descriptions she provided were brief and succinct.

When they were alone in her rooms, Tenel Ka showed them her favorite—and most private—place in the Fountain Palace, a completely enclosed terrace garden at the center of her suite of rooms. The three-story-high ceiling was domed, and could be adjusted to simulate any kind of weather and any time of day or night.

The garden room was fifty meters across, its curved walls decorated with scenes from Dathomir. Terraced planters held bushes and trees, cunningly arranged to look as if they were part of the painted primitive landscapes.

At the middle of the garden, smooth stone benches surrounded a tiny artificial lake. Centered in the crystal-clear water, like a miniature volcano emerging from a primordial sea, stood a peaked island with a real waterfall flowing down one side.

“I come here when my heart is heavy, or whenever I miss my mother’s homeworld.”

“Beautiful,” Jaina whispered.

Warmed by her friend’s approval, Tenel Ka took a seat on one of the stone benches and gestured for the others to join her. “We may speak freely here,” she said, “and I will answer your questions.”

And so the friends talked, more frankly than they had ever dared before, until Tenel Ka’s grandmother arrived to summon them to evening meal.

“The banquet hall is ready,” Ta’a Chume announced.

Tenel Ka’s jaw took on a stubborn set. For the first time since her return to Hapes, she felt alive. How could her grandmother interrupt now? “We would prefer to eat in privacy,” Tenel Ka said, knowing that she was displaying an appalling lack of courtly manners. But she didn’t care.

The matriarch gave her granddaughter a smug smile. “I’ve already taken care of that,” she said. “I sent away all my attendants and advisors for the evening.”

This was an old game that she and her grandmother played—who could outmaneuver whom—and Tenel Ka took up the challenge. “Then it should be no problem if we choose to eat here.”

“Oh, but the serving droids have already gone into the banquet hall,” the former queen objected. “The meal will be served directly on the hour.”

Tenel Ka saw Jaina glance at her chronometer. “But that’s only five minutes from now,” Jaina said, her eyes registering surprise. “I’ll need some time to wash up first.”

Lowie grunted his agreement, and Jacen said, “Hey, me too. I think we’d all be a lot more comfortable if we weren’t so formal on our first night here.” His grin, aimed at Ta’a Chume, was charming and infectious. “And we’re all pretty tired from our travels.”

Flashing Tenel Ka a look that said she would not give in so easily next time, the matriarch nodded. “Very well, then. I will have the serving droids sent in.”

Ta’a Chume withdrew from Tenel Ka’s private sanctuary, and they all relaxed, glad of the reprieve. Tenel Ka looked gratefully around at her friends and then said, “Let me show you to the refresher units before our meal arrives.” She had just stood up to lead them to the door when suddenly the polished stone shook beneath her feet. An ear-splitting roar rent the air, along with a heavy blast, throwing Tenel Ka to her knees.

Lowbacca yelped with alarm, and Em Teedee replied, “Dear me, yes! Master Lowbacca wishes to inquire as to the origins of all this noise and commotion.”

“Yeah,” Jacen said, “you didn’t warn us you had groundquakes.”

Tenel Ka looked back to see the Wookiee scrambling to his feet and helping the twins back up as well. “That was no groundquake,” she said, grimly launching herself toward the door. “Come with me.”

Tenel Ka’s heart raced, though not with exertion, as the four of them pelted down the corridor toward the private dining hall. Thick smoke billowed from the far end of the vaulted passageway. She felt her stomach clench.

Her dread lessened when a pair of guards emerged from the roiling, sooty clouds, supporting her grandmother. Emergency squads rushed to extinguish the fires still blazing inside the dining hall. Ta’a Chume coughed a few times and waved imperiously for the guards to allow her to walk on her own.

“No one hurt,” she croaked.

“It was a bomb?” Tenel Ka asked.

Her grandmother motioned them all back the way they had come. “Yes. In the dining hall,” she said. “Must leave immediately.”

“We were all supposed to be in the dining hall!” Jaina blanched. “So that bomb—”

The matriarch nodded. “—was meant for the princess and me.”