Now, though, Tenel Ka had only one hand, and she did not choose to drop her long steel rod to grab for her rope, or her lightsaber.
For a moment Zekk’s face seemed to open. His eyes grew round and uncertain. “Jacen,” he said, “I—”
Tenel Ka glared at the Nightsister and spoke in a low, threatening voice, “I have your name, Vonnda Ra. I saw you try to lure others from the Singing Mountain Clan on Dathomir. In your encampment at the Great Canyon you chose me as a trainee for the Shadow Academy, but instead we rescued my friends—and defeated you utterly. We’ll defeat you again.”
The muscular Nightsister held up her claw-like hands. “Not this time, Jedi brats!” she said. “I shall enjoy destroying you.”
Jacen felt her dark power crackle through the air, and he held his lightsaber high in defense. Fire-blue lightning bolts danced at Vonnda Ra’s fingertips, burning through her body and sizzling behind her eyes.
She flicked her wrists to hurl her dark lightning at them—but Zekk shouldered the Nightsister to one side. The bolts of evil force flared past them like shadowy flames and scorched the wall plates.
Vonnda Ra glared at Zekk, but he snapped, “They are mine to deal with! I am in command here.”
With a thundering sound of booted feet, a contingent of Imperial fighters charged down the corridor. Jacen looked up in alarm. Reinforcements had arrived—far more than he could hope to fight with his lightsaber, even with the help of Lowbacca, Sirra, and Tenel Ka.
Stormtroopers must have landed on the upper platforms, Jacen surmised. The Second Imperium apparently wanted something here at the fabrication facility. Judging from the alarms and explosions, the Imperials had already overrun most of the platforms.
Zekk stood waiting to battle the Jedi trainees, as if gathering up his courage and his anger, while the rebuffed Nightsister seethed with dark fury. The stormtroopers drew their weapons.
Jacen knew with sudden certainty that they could never win a face-to-face fight here. Tenel Ka pushed herself one step forward, brandishing her metal rod. “We must turn back,” she said, darting a look at him over her shoulder.
“Good idea,” Jacen said, casting a glance behind him.
“You, girl, are a traitor to Dathomir!” Vonnda Ra spat, just as Tenel Ka hurled the long pipe in her direction. The rod struck the Nightsister, knocking her sideways. Stormtroopers clattered toward them as Lowie and Sirra turned to charge back down the corridor.
“After them!” Zekk called, gesturing with one black-gloved hand.
The stormtroopers thundered in pursuit. Vonnda Ra cast the pipe aside. Patches of it were bent and red-hot where fire from within her fingers had super-heated the metal.
Sirra yelled something to her brother as they sprinted down the corridor, with Jacen and Tenel Ka right behind them. “Access hatch?” Em Teedee translated. “Escape? Yes, that sounds like an excellent idea. By all means, let us escape.”
At an intersection of corridors, Sirra stopped beside a clearly marked floor panel. Reaching her long fingers down, she hooked the tiny ring-handles. With her powerful muscles, she hauled upward, pulling the heavy hatch free to reveal a trapdoor. She growled and gestured.
Without hesitation Lowie leaped into the hole, catching a strong vine that hung underneath. The tinny voice of the translating droid wailed, “But this leads to the underlevels of the forest! Master Lowbacca, we can’t go down here. It’s far too dangerous!”
Lowie merely grumbled and continued his descent. Tenel Ka followed next, hopping lightly over the edge, wrapping her muscular legs around a vine. Grasping it with her hand, she lowered herself into the darkness.
Jacen turned around just in time to see Zekk and Vonnda Ra rushing toward them, flanked by stormtroopers. “Down into the underworld, huh?” Jacen said, glancing at Sirrakuk. “Looks like you’ll get an early chance to complete that risky adventure of yours.”
Sirra growled her agreement. With that, both of them plunged over the lip of the trapdoor and descended into the murky, leafy depths below.
Scrambling downward into the tangled foliage, Jacen looked up through the dense branches to see the silhouetted figures of Zekk and Vonnda Ra conferring at the edge of the glowing patch of light. Jacen could hear their voices faintly as he fled deeper into the thick forest.
“We’ll have to follow them,” Zekk said.
“You should have allowed me to destroy them when I had the chance,” the Nightsister snapped. “Now they will cause difficulties.”
Zekk answered sharply. “I am in charge here. We’ll do things my way.” He turned and shouted to the stormtroopers. “Down into the forests. All of you.”
Zekk, Vonnda Ra, and the stormtroopers plunged after their prey into the underworld of Kashyyyk.
14
Brakiss paced the corridors of the Shadow Academy, like an inspector general ensuring that his troops were prepared for imminent combat. He glided along with silent footsteps. His robes whispered around him.
The Master of the Shadow Academy looked too clean, too handsome to be an ominous threat. And although command of the new Dark Jedi rested firmly in his hands, his mind was instead focused on resolving his own doubts.
Brakiss allowed a flicker of anger—anger, the heart of dark side power—to flash through him. His right fist clenched … then he dismissed the emotion. He must not lose control, he told himself, for therein lay a greater weakness. Now he must be strong.
Through his own work, he had created the armored space station as a Dark Jedi training center. He had done it all for the glory of his Great Leader, to help bring about the Second Imperium and restore the galaxy to order and firm paternal control. He had done so much work, risked so many things….
And now the Emperor had snubbed him.
Since the secret Imperial transport had arrived at the Shadow Academy and the four scarlet-cloaked Imperial guards had taken Palpatine’s sealed isolation chamber off to a restricted section, Brakiss had neither seen nor spoken to the Emperor, despite his many requests for an audience. He had been so honored to learn that the Great Leader would visit….
But now Palpatine’s presence threw all of his thoughts and plans into turmoil.
Brakiss glided along the curved corridors. The lights had been dimmed for the sleep cycle; most of the Dark Jedi students had sealed themselves inside their quarters for the evening. A small shift of stormtroopers continued their patrol duties.
Qorl had been successful in training new military recruits from the Lost Ones gang on Coruscant. The TIE pilot had paid particular attention to the burly Norys, who had a knack for Imperial enforcement techniques—though the insolence Norys showed gave Brakiss cause for concern. Still, only rarely did stormtrooper trainees show such … enthusiasm.
As Brakiss drifted along the quiet corridors, he fleetingly wished he were wearing stormtrooper armor himself, so that his footsteps could make resounding, forceful clangs. But unfortunately, such a demonstration of pique would have been deemed unworthy of a Jedi superior.
Brakiss was a powerful man—or so he had thought, until the Emperor’s entourage arrived. The red guards seemed to consider him the lowliest of servants. This was an unfair dismissal of all he had accomplished, he told himself. Perhaps the Emperor truly was ill; perhaps the Second Imperium was in greater danger than Brakiss had feared. He decided it would be best to speak directly to Palpatine, to see for himself.
He had been patient. He had been helpful. He had accommodated every whim passed along by the faceless Imperial guards—but now Brakiss needed answers.
Brakiss took a deep breath to center himself, to focus his thoughts to a razor edge of calm resolve. Propelled by his growing confidence, he turned about and made his way toward the isolated chambers of the Emperor and his followers.