The eye of darkness, p.26
The Eye of Darkness, page 26
Ro offered her a sly sneer. “All in good time.”
“Then what?” said Ghirra, unsettled by the feverish look in his eyes, the knowledge that she’d unwittingly fed his plans.
That she’d been outwitted before she’d even started playing the game.
“You were right about Nihil space not being big enough, Ghirra,” said Ro, ignoring her question. “Know that I’ve listened. That I want to address your concerns. I’ve been working on something that might help.”
“Marchion…What are you going to do?”
He turned to her. He was biting his lower lip in relish. “I’m going to do something the Republic isn’t expecting. Something that will hurt them more than any cannon, missile, or bomb,” said Ro. “Alert the Lightning Crash. I’m going to expand the Stormwall.”
BORDER OF THE OCCLUSION ZONE, REPUBLIC SPACE
Unlike many of the ships involved in the Stormwall attack, the Tractate hadn’t returned straight to the base on Hintis IV. None of the crew felt ready to stop just yet. And so, they’d resumed their patrol of the Stormwall border, remaining vigilant for any sign of a Nihil retaliation.
After what had happened, the importance of Bell and Burry’s mission had grown. It was now more paramount than ever that they captured a Path drive, that they offer Elzar and the others an alternative way to breach the Nihil’s defenses.
Reports were still coming in about the scale of losses suffered by the attack fleet, and all of it made for grim listening. Bell wondered how Elzar Mann was feeling. He knew that none of the Jedi would blame him for what had happened, but Bell also knew Elzar. He would be blaming himself. He hoped they’d be able to talk, next time Bell returned to Coruscant.
It was sometimes lonely out on the frontier, with little opportunity to talk to those back at the Temple. He had Burry, of course, and he was ever thankful for that, and for what had transpired beneath Eiram’s ocean. He’d sometimes run into Mirro and Amadeo on the RDC base on Hintis IV, too. But while Bell was certain he’d made the right choice undertaking this mission, he would often go long stretches without any meaningful contact with the rest of the Order, beyond relaying pertinent operational information.
Another reason to get this over and done with.
Bell glanced around the bridge. Everyone was subdued, still absorbing what had happened.
Captain Pel, though, looked as though she was spoiling for a fight, but so far, there’d been no sign of any Nihil activity. “One more pass, Quarik, and then you can take us back to base,” she said. She was standing before her chair, peering out at the silent void beyond the ship. Bell could see she was gritting her teeth, most likely thinking of all the friends and fellow soldiers she’d lost in the attack.
“Aye, Captain,” replied the pilot, adjusting the controls to bring the ship around.
A warning sigil lit up on Quarik’s readout display. She tapped it, expanding the size of the image, frowning.
Bell glanced at Burry, who was crouched nearby, cautiously petting Ember. The two of them had become seemingly inseparable, even though, at least three times a day, Burry accidentally set his fur alight trying to snuggle her.
“Rwaaarrr,” said Burry.
“Yeah, I feel it, too,” said Bell. “Something’s wrong.”
“Quarik?” said Pel, crossing to the pilot’s station. “What is it?”
Quarik looked confused. “I think there must be something wrong with the sensor array. Maybe it was damaged in the battle with the drill ships and hasn’t been properly repaired.”
“What makes you say that?” said Pel.
“It’s giving a faulty reading. It says the Stormwall is moving.”
Bell tensed. “Moving how?” he said. They were all converging around Quarik’s station now, even Pha Rool, who had left his own station to come and see what was going on.
“There,” said Quarik, pointing to the readout screen. The red line of the Stormwall appeared to be moving slowly outward, like the rim of an expanding bubble, slowly being pushed bigger by forces from within.
“That can’t be right, though, can it?” said Quarik. “It hasn’t changed since the wall first went up a year ago. They can’t do that, can they?”
Burry made a sound that Bell took to mean that they couldn’t be certain of anything when it came to the Nihil. “Is there another way to check?” he said.
“The gunner rig,” said Pha Rool. “The missile targeting system has its own bank of sensors. Hang on.” He returned to his desk, fingers dancing over the keypad. The display lit up. He pushed another button, and the system projected a small holographic image above the main console.
“It’s the same,” said Pel. “It’s getting bigger.”
“And it’s gathering speed,” said Bell. “The bigger it’s growing, the faster it’s happening.”
It had to be the Nihil responding to Master Elzar’s attack. A twisted form of retribution. The eating up of even more of the galaxy as punishment for the Jedi and the Republic. Yet another disaster, manufactured by Marchion Ro.
“What happens if it hits us?” said Quarik.
Bell frowned. “Presumably we’ll find ourselves on the other side.”
Quarik looked stricken. “Then we’d better hurry!” she said, tapping the display with her fingertip. “It’s coming right this way.”
“Do it!” called Pel. “Get us clear!”
Bell watched the holo as the Stormwall billowed outward, rolling toward them. “No,” he said, his voice edged with determination.
When will this ever end?
It ends now.
“No? What are you talking about?” said Pel, rising from her command chair. “We have to get clear immediately!”
Bell shook his head. He crossed to the copilot’s controls and started swinging the ship around to face the oncoming tide of the distortion field. “Think about it,” he said. “This is our chance. We can do exactly what Elzar was trying to do. We don’t have to breach the Stormwall. The Nihil are doing it for us.”
He pulled back on the controls and the ship lurched, gaining speed.
Directly toward the Stormwall.
So long as they didn’t make a hyperspace jump, they should pass right through the expanding barrier. Usually, it would take decades to cross through at sublight speeds, but this time was different. This time the barrier was going to sweep right over them as the Nihil swelled the size of their territory.
Beside Bell, Quarik was staring at Pel, stricken.
“Stand down, Bell!” bellowed Pel. “Quarik, turn this ship around. Now!”
Quarik reached for her controls.
“Don’t!” snapped Bell. “Can’t you see? This is our best chance!” He could feel all the anger and frustration bubbling out of him, directed at Melis Shryke and all the other Nihil that lay behind that shifting barrier. He wanted nothing more than to face them, to show them what the Jedi really were. To make it count. “No more skulking in the shadows, waiting for the Nihil to carry out raids. We can strike right at their heart. Take a Path drive from within. We can end this.”
“Wrraarrroo!” protested Burry, hurrying over.
Klaxons had started to blare throughout the ship.
“No!” said Bell. “This isn’t my frustration talking. It makes sense!”
“Quarik, turn this ship around!” ordered Pel.
“Arroo wrra rooo,” pleaded Burry, arguing that they were needed on the frontier. That Bell was gambling with people’s lives. That the crew on this ship had families who needed them, out here, not trapped behind the Stormwall. That he, Burry, couldn’t face another period of isolation like the one he’d suffered beneath the ocean after Starlight’s fall, no one knowing if he was dead or alive.
Bell reached for the controls…and then let his hand drop to his side.
Burry was right.
He’d almost given in to his anger, his burning rage at the Nihil. He’d almost let it consume him, driving him toward vengeance.
And vengeance had no place in a Jedi’s heart.
How could I even consider doing this to these people, my friends. To Burry…
He stepped away from the controls, feeling suddenly lost.
The Tractate shuddered as Quarik wrenched it around, engines flaring.
Burry reached out, taking Bell by the shoulder and turning him around. He peered at Bell for a moment, the expression on his face so gentle, so empathetic, that Bell felt something inside him break.
“I’m sorry,” said Bell. “I’m so sorry.”
“No time for that now,” said Pel, trying her level best to remain calm. “Punch the hyperdrive. I’ve only just gotten my ship back. I won’t lose it now.”
Quarik reached for the lever.
“No!” called Bell. “We’re on the edge of the distortion field. We don’t know what’ll happen. We need to get clear before we engage the hyperdrive.”
“Then what?” said Pel, desperation finally beginning to creep into her voice.
“Divert all power to the sublight engines,” said Bell. “Everything we have. Overload them if we have to. Just get us as much thrust as possible.”
And hope.
Hope that it’ll be enough.
I’ve been such a fool.
Quarik flicked a series of switches. Bell watched an entire bank of dials slide to the red.
“Captain?” said Quarik. The panic was beginning to creep into her voice.
“Do it,” barked Pel.
Quarik brought the thrusters up to full power.
The Tractate shuddered, its engines flaring.
“Push it!” said Bell. “As hard as you can.”
“We’re edging out of the field. But it’s still expanding. It’s coming right up on us again!” called Pha Rool.
Quarik kept the thrusters gunned, and the Tractate climbed on pillars of light.
“We’re clear!” called Quarik, over the roar of the engines.
“Get us out of here!” said Pel.
Quarik engaged the hyperdrive. Blue light flared.
And yet, there was no cause for celebration. Behind them, the Stormwall was still growing, swallowing up star systems as it swelled like a bloated sun.
All their work. All their efforts trying to protect the beings of those perimeter worlds.
All undone in a matter of moments.
It had all been for nothing.
“Get us back to base,” said Pel, “where we can find out what the hell is going on. Assuming we’re still going to have a base when all of this is through…”
Bell sagged, his shoulders dropping. He couldn’t meet her eye. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, unsure what else to say.
Pel nodded but didn’t reply.
As he moved to walk away, Burry reached out, grabbed him by the shoulders, and pulled him into a powerful, overbearing hug.
CORUSCANT
Shrill alarms blared throughout the entire Senate Building.
Lina Soh ran, her sleeping robes billowing around her as she hurried down the passageway, all pretense at decorum long abandoned. Around her, RDC operatives scattered to make way, their eyes wide with shock and uncertainty.
The news was spreading fast.
She rounded a bend, her mind whirling. She’d barely heard what the aide had said as the woman had come to wake her.
Reports that the Stormwall was moving.
Growing.
Expanding.
Lina felt nauseous.
She burst into the central operations room to find it already full of RDC technicians, commanders, droids. Crackling comm traffic filled the air. Operatives tapped furiously at comms stations. Others were gathered around a large, central holo station, locked in a fierce debate.
She spotted Admiral Kronara and made a beeline for him.
The man looked hassled, gaunt, older than his already considerable years. He turned to fix her with an empty stare. “Chancellor…”
“Report,” she said, air hissing through her teeth as she tried to catch her breath.
“Well, it’s…it’s…” She’d never seen Kronara falter before. He cleared his throat, straightened his back, and seemed to gather himself. “We’ve confirmed that the Stormwall is expanding.”
“Expanding how?” said Soh.
Kronara looked as lost as she felt. “We don’t fully understand,” he said, “not yet, but the technicians are working on it. It seems the stormseeds are moving, dragging their invisible net wider. They’re being bolstered by hundreds of additional stormseeds, too.”
“Yes, yes,” said Soh, waving away any need for technical understanding at this stage. “But—what does it actually mean, Admiral?”
He held her gaze. “It means we’re about to lose even more sectors to the Nihil.”
Around them, people were still arriving, crowding into the large chamber.
RDC staff.
Senate staff.
All come to silently take in what was happening. The gravity of the moment.
The Jedi were arriving in their droves, too. Indeera Stokes, Ry Ki-Sakka, Keaton Murag, Reath Silas, Yoda, Soleil Agra, Arkoff, and more. Many more.
Assembling here to witness the horror together. To share in the grief and pain of their failure. To try to understand what was going on.
One of the technicians—a female, many-eyed Gran—raised herself from her seat, turning to look over at her and Kronara in abject shock. “We’ve lost Utapau,” she called.
Lina felt as if the ground was suddenly shifting beneath her. “What do you mean, we’ve lost it?”
“All transmissions from the planet have ceased. The line of the Stormwall has passed over it. Utapau is now within the Occlusion Zone.”
No.
No. No. No.
This couldn’t be happening.
“Triton is gone,” called another technician from across the room.
“But…” stammered Soh.
“Ryloth is silent,” called another.
A strained hush was settling over the room. All they could hear now was the crackle of the remaining comm chatter, the buzz of static.
Lina felt as if a great weight was pressing down on her, making it difficult to breathe.
This is worse than we could ever have feared.
What have I done?
This is my fault. This is Marchion Ro’s retribution.
She thought about Kitrep, how alone he must feel, trapped out there. All she wanted to do was fold her arms around him and hold him close. Just a few hours earlier, she’d been filled with hope. Now it seemed as if he was farther away than ever before.
A holo bloomed from the circular station at the center of the room—a flickering blue map of the Galactic Core. A red line represented the Stormwall as it bloomed out, rolling forward like a relentless wave. The gathered operatives stepped back to regard it, dismay spreading across their faces in time with the spreading zone of glowing red.
When is it going to stop?
“All communications from Abtin have ceased.” The technicians were trying to keep their voices clear and professional, but Lina could hear the tremble, the mounting horror.
“Sluis Van is down.”
“And Elrood.”
The comm chatter that had previously filled the chamber was now reduced to just a distant murmur. But it wasn’t just the room that had grown silent. It was the galaxy.
“It’s breached the Seswenna sector.”
The red line on the holo seemed to stutter and stop.
Lina held her breath for a moment.
Please. Let that be it.
“It’s stopped.”
Lina didn’t even know who’d spoken. She drew a ragged breath, but there was no sense of relief. Only the dawning realization of how far they’d fallen.
Things had just gone from bad to worse.
She glanced toward the gathered Jedi, watching solemnly from the other side of the room. None of them had anything to say. Not yet.
A single tear tracked down her cheek, and she brushed it away with the edge of her hand.
“Chancellor?” said Kronara. He was cautious. Gentle.
She snapped her head around, pushing down her welling emotions. “I want a full report within the hour,” she said. “I need to understand what just happened. I want a map of the new border. And I want to know exactly which planets and systems we’ve just lost.”
“Understood,” said Kronara.
A burst of earsplitting static filled the room. One of the human technicians hurriedly adjusted the settings on their terminal. “Chancellor, Admiral—we’re receiving a transmission. It’s…” They looked around, gaping. “It’s from the Nihil.”
Lina swallowed. “Let’s hear it.”
The technician nodded and tapped at some keys.
A familiar voice filled the room.
Marchion Ro.
“No doubt many of you are wondering what has just happened.” His tone was gentle, calm, but Lina couldn’t help but hear the hint of gloating that crept into his voice when he spoke. “Why I have extended our borders and increase the territory of Nihil space. I am here to explain.
“Make no mistake,” he continued, “this is a choice that your chancellor made, along with her Jedi allies. Two days ago, the Nihil sent a peaceful delegation to Coruscant, bearing tributes and gifts from all the many cultures of Nihil space and wishing only to talk of collaboration between our two regions. We sought a peaceful resolution to the recent conflicts that have seen so many, sadly, perish, on both sides.”
Lina balked at his insouciant tone, the way he so openly referred to his murderous campaign of terror as if he were but a reluctant player, as if the Republic were as much to blame for the deaths of its citizens as him.
“We extended the hand of friendship, but it was harshly rejected,” he said. “Our ambassador was treated like a criminal. Insinuations were made. She was interrogated, and then sent away with no recourse. The Republic were unwilling to even consider peace. To talk. What’s more, they are so driven by their need for war, their refusal to accept our right to exist in this galaxy, they then laid siege to our borders with a vast fleet of warships.”
