Jedi Under Siege Read online

  never any chance for the Second Imperium, and now we are being destroyed

  here because of you! Because of poor planning. Because there is no dark

  heart to the Second Imperium."

  Blinded by rage again, Brakiss flowed forward like an avenging angel,

  his lightsaber held high. The red guard staggered away from his

  controls, reaching into his scarlet robes to withdraw a weapon-but

  Brakiss didn't give him the chance.

  ^ He cut down the third Imperial guard, who fell smoking and lifeless

  onto the array of controls that had created the fake Emperor.

  The illusion had cheated Brakiss, and the Shadow Academy, and all his

  Dark Jedi . . .

  everyone who had devoted their lives to recreating the Empire.

  'Now the Empire has truly fallen," he said, his voice hoarse and husky,

  his face haggard. He was no longer calm, like a statue, no longer a

  well-polished representative of perfection.

  Hearing a noise outside the chopped-o pen door to the isolation chamber,

  Brakiss turned to see a flash of red-the fourth and final member of the

  group of charlatans. Brakiss moved slowly, feeling stiffless and pain,

  utterly discouraged-but he could not let this last one get away. Ms

  honor demanded that the deceivers pay. Brakiss rushed after him.

  But the red guard had encountered his slaughtered companions outside and

  knew that Brakiss had seen all the video controls and holographic

  apparatus in the isolation chamber. The fourth guard, without

  hesitation, ran back the way he had come.

  Brakiss realized with utter certainty that the glorious dream of a

  reborn Empire had already failed. His Dark Jedi had lost their

  ^ battle down on Yavin 4. The Imperial fighters were being trounced-but

  he would not let this impostor, this traitor, escape alive. It would be

  Brakiss's final moment of vengeance.

  With purposeful steps, Brakiss charged after the man. The red guard

  moved with astonishing speed, fleeing the restricted area and dashing

  down the empty corridors of the Shadow Academy. Brakiss ran, but the red

  guard knew exactly where he wanted to go. Exactly.

  The last surviving Imperial guard reached the docking bay and dashed

  toward Brakiss's still-waiting high-speed shuttle.

  Arriving at the docking bay door, Brakiss shouted, "Stop!" He held his

  lightsaber high, wishing he could use the Force to make the guard freeze

  in his tracks, to follow the command-but the charlatan did not hesitate.

  He dove into the lone shuttle, raised it on its repulsorlifts, and

  punched the code to release the magnetic atmosphere containment field.

  Brakiss simmered with rage. He wondered if he could get to the Shadow

  Academy's weapons systems and blow the guard to frozen shards in the

  vacuum of space. But it would be too late for him.

  ]ED[ UNDER SIEGE 173 He felt completely alone on the Shadow Academy. An

  utter failure. Everything he had tried had backfired on him. And this

  was the final insult: tricked by a . . . guard.

  Unbidden, a memory came to Brakiss.

  When the Shadow Academy had been constructed-ostensibly under the

  guidance of Emperor Palpatine-as a fail-safe mechanism, enormous

  quantities of linked explosives had been implanted through the station's

  structure. That way, if Palpatine ever felt threatened by these new and

  powerful Dark Jedi Knights, he could trigger the detonation and destroy

  the Shadow Academy, no matter where it was.

  Brakiss stood alone in the hangar bay, watching the tiny shuttle streak

  farther and farther away. It occurred to him that since there was no

  reborn Emperor, then the four red guards themselves must have kept the

  secret destruct codes.

  As the escape ship fled from the Shadow Academy and the Yavin system,

  the last surviving guard acknowledged to himself that the military

  forces he left behind would be defeated utterly. With the success of the

  Rebel counterattack, there would likely be no Imperial survivors of this

  day's battles.

  ^ The guard had to preserve his secret and maintain the illusion that he

  and his partners had so carefully constructed as a way to restore

  themselves to power. He could not afford to leave the Shadow Academy

  intact if he hoped to cover his tracks. With luck, he might find a

  position among the many criminal elements insidiously working at the

  fringes of the New Republic.

  The red guard sent a brief signal, carefully coded. He transmitted a

  dreaded phrase, a string of impulses, that he had hoped never to use.,

  Destruct.

  As his tiny shuttle careened into hyperspace, the spiked ring of the

  Shadow Academy flowered into a fireball, an exploding blossom of flaming

  gases and debris.

  ^ AS HE PLODDED ahead, Zekk could barely see two meters in front of

  himself in the murk of Yavin 4's unfamiliar jungle. Dense underbrush

  tore at his hair and cape, and his breath came in ragged gasps. His

  ponytail had come entirely undone. Still Zekk pushed on. Occasionally he

  glanced back over his shoulder to see if any of Skywalker's Jedi

  trainees were pursuing him. He sensed no one following, but he couldn't

  be sure. Who knows? he thought. They might have light-side tricks he

  had never heard of, ways to keep him from sensing their presence.

  He had seen many unexpected things today. Strange things. Horrible

  things. It hardly mattered that the winding path ahead was uncertain and

  difficult to see: he would have been blind to it anyway. His mind was

  partially numbed by the sights his eyes had

  ^

  ^ witnessed today. Destruction, terror, failure . . .

  death.

  Zekk's foot slipped on a patch of moldy, damp leaves, and he went down

  on one knee. Grabbing a low branch, he pulled himself back to his feet,

  then stood disoriented for a moment.

  Which direction had he been heading? He knew he was going toward

  something . . .

  but he couldn't quite remember what. Finally some unconscious part of

  him remembered, and he set off again.

  Suddenly, just ahead of him, a knee-high rodent sprang from the

  underbrush, its claws extended. Zekk's Jedi instincts automatically took

  over.

  In one smooth movement Zekk withdrew his lightsaber and threw himself

  sideways out of the creature's path. His cheek split open as it smashed

  against the purplish brown trunk of a Massassi tree; his thumb pressed

  the lightsaber's ignition stud at the same moment. Before Zekk could

  even blink or breathe,.the blood-red blade sprang forth and sliced

  through the rodent in mid-leap' With a shriek that broke off abruptly,

  the two smoking halves of the creature fell to the forest floor.

  It reminded him of how he had killed

  ^ Tamith Kai's student Vilas in the zerogravity arena aboard the Shadow

  Academy station-not a memory that comforted him.

  Blood trickled from the cut on Zekk's cheek, but the pain was too

  distant, too far away for him to feel. His ability with the Force had

  protected him just now-after all, he was a Dark Jedi. But what about his

  companions from the Second Imperium? What of their powers? Why had it

/>   all gone wrong? For today he had seen his Dark Jedi, one after another,

  lose their battles or be captured by Skywalker's trainees.

  He had a terrible suspicion that only he remained.

  Oh, the dark side had had its victories.

  The commando Orvak had obviously succeeded in destroying the shield

  generators and had no doubt moved on to the next step in his mission.

  And there had been other times during the day when Zekk had felt the

  Shadow Academy trainees achieve surges of victory. But each victory had

  been shortlived.

  Brakiss, Tamith Kai, he, and his companions had all been so certain of a

  quick, decisive triumph. With their training in the dark side, they

  should have had no problem, ^ Zekktold himself Wasn't that what Brakiss

  had taught?

  A few minutes later, Zekk emerged from thedarkness into a broad clearing

  where the wide river ran sluggishly between the trees. His spirits

  rising ever so slightly, Zekk walked to the edge of the river and

  stooped to take a drink.

  Despite the green color of the water, his reflection was clear. Sunken

  emerald eyes shadowed with dark circles gazed back at him from the

  rippling surface. Only the barest spark of his former confidence still

  lurked in his expression. Tangles of filthy dark hair framed a face as

  pale as the moon of his home planet Ennth. Blood still oozed from the

  wound on his face, contrasting nicely with the purpling bruises that

  surrounded it. It made him think of Brakiss and his finely chiseled

  features.

  A wail of despair echoed through the young man's head, knocking him to

  his hands and knees in the mud of the riverbank. In a futile gesture,

  Zekk pressed his muddy hands over his ears. "Brakiss!" he screamed.

  'What went wrong?"

  Hardly understanding what was happening, Zekk turned his face up toward

  the sky.

  For a split second he recognized the spiked

  ^ ring of the Shadow Academy in low orbit above the jungle moon. Then,

  without warning, the space station bloomed into a fireball high above

  him.

  Zekk's jaw went slack at the sight. He had not thought it possible to

  feel any more pain.

  But he had been wrong.

  Brakiss. The name whispered now in Zekk's mind. He knew that the Master

  had been aboard the Shadow Academy when it blew up. He could feel it. He

  had felt his teacher's despair-his mind crying out.

  The silvery-robed Jedi had taken Zekk in when the young man had had no

  hope for his future and no purpose. Brakiss had trained Zekk, given him

  purpose, direction, position, and skills to be proud of. At the Shadow

  Academy Zekk had belonged. He had been its Darkest Knight.

  Now what was left for him? All that he had trained for and lived for

  was gone. Pride, comrades, future . . . all gone. There was no doubt in

  Zekles mind that the Second Imperium had been decisively defeated today,

  and now his mentor-the only man who had ever believed in Zekk-was dead.

  No. Not the only man who had believed in Zekk. A fresh wave of anguish

  washed over

  ^ Zekk at the thought. Old Peckhum had always believed in him, too. Zekk

  had promised never to do anything to hurt or disappoint the old spacer.

  Today, though, he had fought on the side of Peckhum's enemies.

  Despite all the faults that Zekk acknowledged he had, he had never in

  his life lied to old Peckhum.

  Anger jolted through him-at himself, at having been forced to fight his

  friend, at having been forced to make such terrible choices. His muscles

  tightened until the tension inside seemed unbearable. With a cry of

  anguish he plunged his fingers deep into the mud. It was dark, slippery,

  treacherous. Yet this was what he had chosen: the darkness.

  Today he had stood and watched as his comrades blasted the Lightning Rod

  out of the skies. For all he knew, the only other man who had ever

  believed in him might also now be dead. Zekk's hands clenched in the

  ooze and he jerked up fistfuls of mud and smeared it on his face. The

  mud stung his cut. Now he could feel pain again. But he didn't care. He

  deserved it.

  He had failed them all-Brakiss, the other Dark Jedi warriors, old

  Peckhum . . . himself. Silent tears dropped unheeded from his

  ^ eyes as he scooped up more and mud and rubbed it into his hands, his

  forearms, his neck. Dark mud.

  This-this was what he had become.

  Darkness. He had chosen it, immersed himself in it. He was stained with

  it.

  There could be no turning back for Zekk anymore. He had made his

  choices, and he was what he was: a Dark Jedi. That could not change now.

  Though his comrades were defeated or captured, and Brakiss dead, Zekk

  would never be able to cleanse himself for as long as he lived-however

  long that might be.

  Not even Jaina and Jacen, if they were still alive, would be able to

  forgive him.

  Considering the space battles above, the destruction of the Shadow

  Academy, the attacks here on the ground, Zekk himself was responsible

  for a hundred or more deaths today. Maybe even Peckhum's. The twins

  would know that. They had never believed Zekk's decision to join the

  Shadow Academy was the right one, had never believed that he could

  become anything.

  But he had made his choice and he had done his best. He had even warned

  Jaina on Kashyyyk not to return to Yavin 4, hoping to

  ^ keep her away from the fighting, though he doubted she had listened.

  He pushed himself to his feet and caught sight of his reflection again

  in the slow moving water. His once-beautiful cape hung in tatters from

  his shoulders, its scarlet lining shredded. Mud covered his skin. And

  the sunken emerald eyes were now bleak and hopeless.

  But he wasn't finished yet. It might not matter anymore what happened to

  him, but he still had choices. He would show the twins what he was made

  of. Turning, he headed along the riverbank toward the Great Temple.

  Zekk still had one card left to play.

  ^

  "DOWN THERE," JAINA said, pointing at the jungle clearing that Luke had

  chosen as a rendezvous point.

  From the pilot's seat of his personal shuttle, Lando Calrissian grinned,

  flashing his beautiful white teeth. "Sure thing, little lady," he said.

  "I'll take'er down. Looks like they're waiting for us. The fighting must

  be done." As Lando brought the ship in for a landing, Jaina used Jedi

  techniques to relax, but it did her no good. Her muscles remained as

  tense as if she were still in the tiny TIE fighter flying for her life.

  For some reason, she just couldn't loosen up. For the first time, today,

  she had fought as a Jedi, with other Jedi, against the dark side.

  It was what all her training had been about.

  When Lando's shuttle touched down, Jaina wasted no time on formalities.

  She scrambled

  ^

  ^ out of the ship as quickly as she could, ran to her uncle, and threw

  herself into his arms.

  "You made it. You're alive!" she said, feeling a surge of relief and

  jubilation.

  "Luke, old buddy!" Lando said. "I came to offer you som
e help, but it

  looks like you've got things pretty well under control."

  "We could still use your help, Lando," Luke replied. He hugged Jaina

  back and said soberly, "I'm afraid many of our number were not so

  lucky."

  Realizing that she had no idea how the ground battle had gone, Jaina bit

  her lip and looked around wildly, hoping to spot Jacen, Lowie, and Tenel

  Ka.

  What she saw shocked her. As far as she could tell, no student from the

  Jedi academy had escaped unscathed. Several trainees limped. Tionne's

  right arm hung in a sling and the hair on the right side of her head was

  singed. Others sported scratches and bruises, as well as more serious

  injuries.

  Jaina stared in surprise when she saw Raynar, his face muddy and his

  bright clothing torn and covered with filth, moving among the wounded

  and offering assistance wherever he could. He seemed subdued.

  When she noticed the patient Raynar was currently tending, she blanched

  and dashed over to where Tenel Ka lay, looking feverish and bleeding

  heavily from a nasty gash just above one gray eye. Another shallower

  wound ran along her thigh and ended at the knee.

  Raynar was already tearing strips of cloth from his relatively clean

  inner robes. Jaina made a pad of the cloth and pressed it to Tenel Ka's

  head wound to stanch the flow of blood, while Raynar bandaged the leg