Frowning, he looked out of the cockpit, past Fhost, and into the field of stars that dotted the Unknown Regions.
"There be dragons," he said, smiling.
R6 beeped a question.
"Something Kyle once said to me," Jaden explained.
What you seek can be found in the black hole on Fhost.
Fhost's largest population center was Farpoint. He would start there, keep an ear to ground, and try to figure out how something could start in the lightlessness of a black hole. He'd pose as a salvager with old Imperial-era hulks to sell for scrap. The fact that he piloted a Z-95 would add credibility to the claim.
"Why do I fly an old Z-Ninety-five, Arsix?"
The droid beeped and whistled in answer, though Jaden needed none. He flew the Z-95 for the same reasons he still bore an old lightsaber in the small of his back.
"Arsix, set the comm to standard planetary control frequency."
R6 chirped when it was done.
"Farpoint control, this is Far Wanderer, requesting permission to land."
A long pause and the crackle of static answered his request. Before he could repeat it, the planetary control finally answered in Basic.
"Far Wanderer, permission granted. Coordinates for the yard are being transmitted to you now. What is that, a Z-Ninety-five? How'd you get a hyperspace sled to stay attached to that old girl? We didn't know those antiques still flew."
"Still flies, Farpoint control. But it isn't always pretty."
Laughter carried over the channel. "Bring that bird in."
Predator settled into orbit over Fhost and Kell took in the planet. It was covered in great swaths of desert; stretches of tan and brown bisected by gashes of reds and smudges of black made the surface look scarred, bruised, wounded. He hovered over it for a time, his ship invisible to the meager scanning technology available to those onworld. He studied the planet's specs on his console a final time.
Apart from a few isolated settlements on the edge of the deserts, the planet had only one main population center-Farpoint, with a transient population of perhaps thirty-five hundred sentients. He frowned, thinking that he would have to take care to keep his feeding discreet in such a small settlement. On the other hand, the small population limited the target of his inquiry. With his talents, he would be able to gather information rapidly.
In his mind's eye, he saw the image Wyyrlok had burned into his brain-the icy moon hanging against the backdrop of the blue gas giant, its sky on fire. He stared past Fhost out at the trackless systems of the Unknown Regions. The moon could be anywhere.
Wyyrlok had demanded that he look for a sign. Kell had another idea. He intended to look for a Jedi. Thinking of the rich soup of a Jedi caused his feeders to roil in their cheek sacs. Thinking of the soup of the one who would bring him revelation caused him to drool.
He stared down at the planet as the line of night crept across its surface, swallowing the deserts in darkness.
"I am a ghost," he said.
CHAPTER FOUR
Harbinger's bridge crackled with activity. "Forty-five seconds to jump," said the helmsman to Dor, then, into his communicator, "Forty-five seconds. Confirm, Omen."
The speakers crackled with Omen's answer. "Confirmed. Forty-five seconds. Forty-four."
Dor put his clawed hand on the weapons officer's soft shoulder. "You have twenty-five seconds to destroy that Infiltrator. Or explain to the captain why you could not."
Saes's blade spat a blurry shower of sparks as he unleashed a series of powerful blows. Relin allowed the strength of the attacks to move him backward as he dodged left, right, leapt, spun, and parried, biding his time. At last he deflected an overhand strike in a shower of energy, slid his blade free, and stabbed at Saes's middle. His one-time Padawan slid left, spun, and drove Relin's blade to the deck with an overhand strike. Saes threw a reverse elbow with his off arm, augmented with strength from the Force, but Relin anticipated the blow, parried with his forearm, lurched his blade free, and drove a Force-augmented kick into Saes's midsection. The impact lifted Saes from his feet and drove him fifteen paces across the room, though he flipped in flight and landed on his feet in a crouch.
"Your skill with a lightsaber remains wanting," Relin said, advancing. "You rely on strength over technique."
Anger tensed Saes's body, darkened his visible skin from crimson to deep red. "It is well, then, that I've learned other methods."
Blue Force lightning gathered on the black claws of his fingertips, crackled a dire promise. Before Relin could respond, Saes gestured and the energy cut a jagged path across the room.
Relin dodged too late and the energy struck him, put a cold spike into his heart, and threw him against the far wall. Despite the agony, he managed to use the Force to cushion the impact and fell to the floor, his breathing ragged as the last of the lightning crawled over him and expired.
He climbed to his feet, lightsaber held low, and eyed Saes. His Padawan had grown in the Force since they had parted.
As if reading his thoughts, Saes saluted him with his lightsaber. Relin imagined him grinning behind his mask. "More than you know, even."
The pitch of the hyperdrive's hum changed, accelerated, took on the regular cadence of a rapidly beating heart. Relin felt the vaguely nauseating swirl in his stomach that he often felt when a ship was about to enter hyperspace.
Staring at Saes, he decided that he would not bother with escape. He had accomplished his mission. Now he would right a wrong before he died.
He fell into the Force, let its energy course through his body, enhance his reflexes, his strength, his endurance. Saes answered Relin's stare with his own, his eyes black holes in the white mask, and lightning sizzled on his fingertips, tracing a spiral path up the red blade of his lightsaber.
"We end it," Relin said.
Former Master and Padawan strode across the chamber toward each other, lethal purpose in both their minds.
Relin's comlink crackled. "I am hit! Master!"
Drev's alarmed voice eroded Relin's resolve, carried away the anger that had been driving his thinking. Strength went out of him.
Saes, sensing the hesitation, bounded forward, lightsaber raised in a killing stroke. Relin parried but too slowly. Saes's blade severed Relin's left arm at the elbow.
Blinding pain exploded in Relin's mind; a scream broke through the wall of his gritted teeth. He felt himself fall, but as if from a distance. The world seemed to slow. His senses felt attenuated, all except for the throbbing, acute agony of his arm. His heart kept time with the pulse of the hyperdrive, and each beat sent a knife stab of pain up his bicep.
Saes loomed over him, his lightsaber sizzling, the masked embodiment of Relin's failure.
"No right, no wrong," his former Padawan said, and raised his weapon. "Only power."
Relin's chrono beeped a warning, and Relin smiled through his pain.
The expression caused Saes a moment's hesitation and in that moment the charges in the hyperdrive chamber exploded. A column of flame and a concussive wave burst from the chamber's doors and rolled over Saes and Relin. The blast flattened Relin to the floor-he felt his ribs crack, adding that agony to that of his arm and seared face-and blew Saes across the room, slamming him against the wall with the force of a battering ram. Shrapnel rained down. The entire ship lurched from the explosion.
Saes and Harbinger fled from his mind. Relin sat up, still half dazed, but able to think of only one thing.