pulled aside. “But now Rodia’s under attack.”
Jacen shook his head.
“Noble news out of Kubindi, though. Tragic, but noble.”
“Oh?” Jacen leaned one arm against the comm board. News from outsystem was getting rare enough to tolerate listening to Randa relay it.
“Word is out that Kyp’s Dozen—”
Jacen clenched a hand at that name, but he didn’t interrupt.
“—held off a Yuuzhan Vong attack force long enough that the Kubaz got every spaceworthy ship offplanet. You cannot call that anything less than heroic.”
Grandstanding
came to mind, but Jacen held his peace. “I thought he was over at Bothawui.”
“Exactly. Anticipating their attack, he made the long trek—”
“Listen, Randa.” Jacen frowned. “I just don’t admire Kyp the way you do.”
And Kyp has no patience with Hutts
—but Jacen didn’t say that. “He killed millions.”
Randa waved a stubby arm. “Long ago. He was young—”
“Well, I’m young now. And I don’t approve.”
“Tragic,” Randa said softly. “The way the Jedi are dividing. Supposedly, Jedi protect others. I see none of that from you, Jedi Solo. Take Wurth Skidder. He was a warrior.” He recited the story again: Skidder’s bravery on board the Yuuzhan Vong clustership; Skidder’s attempt to communicate with the hideous yammosk war coordinator; Skidder dying in bitter agony, sending the rescue crew off without him. Randa had vowed to avenge himself on the Yuuzhan Vong, honoring Wurth Skidder.
Jacen wondered what the young Hutt really wanted.
“As far as I can see,” Randa concluded, “Durron is the only Jedi who truly is carrying the fight to the Yuuzhan Vong.”
“That’s only half true,” Jacen said carefully. “The Jedi based on Coruscant are working just as hard as Kyp, without calling attention to themselves. No fanfares, no tricks flying into battle—”
Randa spat toward a bucket he’d placed in the room’s darkest corner. The tile-game players startled, then returned to their game.
“How long,” he rumbled, “will Coruscant hold out if the Yuuzhan Vong attack?”
“That’s the last place the fleets would let them take.” But Jacen had wondered the same thing. That really would be the end—and Uncle Luke had stood near Coruscant in his vision. “Listen, Randa. Master Skywalker is right—we have to be cautious about using the Force. We have to resist anger, hate, and aggression. Those will tempt us into an evil that’s just as dangerous as the Yuuzhan Vong.”
Randa grumbled in Huttese.
“It’s right for us to gather intelligence,” Jacen pressed. “To protect and advise others. To heal their hurts. That’s the force of good, Randa. Kyp’s people … maybe they haven’t slipped over to the dark side, but they’re sliding.”
Randa clenched his tiny hands and puffed up to his full size. “Spare me your dark side and light side. If you’re a Jedi, act like a Jedi, or get out of the way and let other Jedi do what this war requires … to protect others!”
“I’m working on that,” Jacen insisted.
Abruptly, Randa turned conciliatory. “Of course you are,” he soothed, but not before Jacen made one more mental note about Randa Besadii Diori’s flattery: It could turn ugly in an instant. The Hutt was a spice merchant, a manipulator. “Here is my vision,” Randa said. “My fantasies have matured, and you could find glory helping me fulfill them.”
Jacen rolled his eyes. “Go ahead.”
Randa moistened his lips with his fat, wedge-shaped tongue. “I see myself,” he said, “as a pirate chieftain, wreaking havoc on the Yuuzhan Vong … with Kyp Durron as my example.”
Jacen wondered how Kyp would react to a Hutt using him as an example.
“Who better to head my squadron than a Jedi? And fate has delivered a Jedi to me, one who has withdrawn from their normal operations. You see, Jacen, all I need is to somehow get an influence over you, then convince you to do what I want.”
Surprisingly
Jacen shook his head.
“Noble news out of Kubindi, though. Tragic, but noble.”
“Oh?” Jacen leaned one arm against the comm board. News from outsystem was getting rare enough to tolerate listening to Randa relay it.
“Word is out that Kyp’s Dozen—”
Jacen clenched a hand at that name, but he didn’t interrupt.
“—held off a Yuuzhan Vong attack force long enough that the Kubaz got every spaceworthy ship offplanet. You cannot call that anything less than heroic.”
Grandstanding
came to mind, but Jacen held his peace. “I thought he was over at Bothawui.”
“Exactly. Anticipating their attack, he made the long trek—”
“Listen, Randa.” Jacen frowned. “I just don’t admire Kyp the way you do.”
And Kyp has no patience with Hutts
—but Jacen didn’t say that. “He killed millions.”
Randa waved a stubby arm. “Long ago. He was young—”
“Well, I’m young now. And I don’t approve.”
“Tragic,” Randa said softly. “The way the Jedi are dividing. Supposedly, Jedi protect others. I see none of that from you, Jedi Solo. Take Wurth Skidder. He was a warrior.” He recited the story again: Skidder’s bravery on board the Yuuzhan Vong clustership; Skidder’s attempt to communicate with the hideous yammosk war coordinator; Skidder dying in bitter agony, sending the rescue crew off without him. Randa had vowed to avenge himself on the Yuuzhan Vong, honoring Wurth Skidder.
Jacen wondered what the young Hutt really wanted.
“As far as I can see,” Randa concluded, “Durron is the only Jedi who truly is carrying the fight to the Yuuzhan Vong.”
“That’s only half true,” Jacen said carefully. “The Jedi based on Coruscant are working just as hard as Kyp, without calling attention to themselves. No fanfares, no tricks flying into battle—”
Randa spat toward a bucket he’d placed in the room’s darkest corner. The tile-game players startled, then returned to their game.
“How long,” he rumbled, “will Coruscant hold out if the Yuuzhan Vong attack?”
“That’s the last place the fleets would let them take.” But Jacen had wondered the same thing. That really would be the end—and Uncle Luke had stood near Coruscant in his vision. “Listen, Randa. Master Skywalker is right—we have to be cautious about using the Force. We have to resist anger, hate, and aggression. Those will tempt us into an evil that’s just as dangerous as the Yuuzhan Vong.”
Randa grumbled in Huttese.
“It’s right for us to gather intelligence,” Jacen pressed. “To protect and advise others. To heal their hurts. That’s the force of good, Randa. Kyp’s people … maybe they haven’t slipped over to the dark side, but they’re sliding.”
Randa clenched his tiny hands and puffed up to his full size. “Spare me your dark side and light side. If you’re a Jedi, act like a Jedi, or get out of the way and let other Jedi do what this war requires … to protect others!”
“I’m working on that,” Jacen insisted.
Abruptly, Randa turned conciliatory. “Of course you are,” he soothed, but not before Jacen made one more mental note about Randa Besadii Diori’s flattery: It could turn ugly in an instant. The Hutt was a spice merchant, a manipulator. “Here is my vision,” Randa said. “My fantasies have matured, and you could find glory helping me fulfill them.”
Jacen rolled his eyes. “Go ahead.”
Randa moistened his lips with his fat, wedge-shaped tongue. “I see myself,” he said, “as a pirate chieftain, wreaking havoc on the Yuuzhan Vong … with Kyp Durron as my example.”
Jacen wondered how Kyp would react to a Hutt using him as an example.
“Who better to head my squadron than a Jedi? And fate has delivered a Jedi to me, one who has withdrawn from their normal operations. You see, Jacen, all I need is to somehow get an influence over you, then convince you to do what I want.”
Surprisingly
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