The Rancor knocked away a boulder and spotted Luke recoiling in the crevice. Voraciously, it reached in to pluck the boy out. As the Rancor jumped, howling in pain once more, Luke ran for the holding cave. He reached the doorway and ran in. Before him, a heavy He reached the doorway and ran in.
Before him, a heavy barred gate blocked the way. They looked up as Luke entered, then stood and walked toward the gate. Luke turned around to see the monster coming angrily after him. He turned back to the gate and tried to open it. The keepers poked at him with their two-pronged spears, jabbed at him through the bars, laughing and chewing their food, as the Rancor drew closer to the young Jedi.
Luke backed against the side wall, as the Rancor reached in the room for him. Suddenly he saw the restraining-door control panel halfway up the opposite wall.
The Rancor began to enter the holding room, closing for the kill, when all at once Luke picked up a skull off the floor and hurled it at the panel. Those in the audience above gasped as one, then were silent.
They were all truly stunned at this bizarre turn of events. They all looked to Jabba, who was apoplectic with rage. Never had he felt such fury. Bring me Solo and the Wookiee. They will all suffer for this outrage.
The Rancor keeper wept openly and threw himself down on the body of his dead pet. Life would be a lonely proposition for him from that day. Han and Chewie were led before the steaming Jabba. Han still squinted and stumbled every few feet. Threepio stood behind the Hutt, unbearably apprehensive. Jabba kept Leia on a short tether, stroking her hair to try to calm himself. A constant murmuring filled the room, as calm himself. A constant murmuring filled the room, as the rabble speculated on what was going to happen to whom.
With a flurry, several guards—including Lando Calrissian--dragged Luke in across the room. To give them passage, the courtiers parted like an unruly sea. When Luke, too, was standing before the throne, he nudged Solo with a smile. There seemed to be no end to the number of friends he kept bumping into. Are you in this mess now, too? For just a moment, he almost felt like a boy again. He felt one hundred percent relaxed. Just like old times—but a second later, a bleak thought chilled him. Is sh Besides, the sight of all of her friends there at once made her feel nearly invincible.
Han, Luke, Chewie, Lando—even Threepio was skulking around somewhere, trying to be forgotten. Leia almost laughed out loud, almost punched Jabba in the nose. She could barely restrain herself. She wanted to hug them all. Suddenly Jabba shouted; the entire room was immediately silent.
Jabba could be so pompous, sometimes, and now with old Goldenrod, there, making his pronouncements No matter what else, Threepio simply hated being interrupted. He collected himself, nonetheless, and continued. In his belly you will find a new definition of pain and suffering, as you slowly digest for a thousand years. A thousand years was a bit much.
Chewie barked his whole-hearted agreement. Luke only smiled. He found Jabba despicable—a leech of the galaxy, sucking the life from whatever he touched. Luke wanted to burn the villain, and so was actually rather glad Jabba had refused to bargain—for now Luke would get his wish precisely.
Of course, his primary objective was to free his friends, whom he loved dearly; it was this concern that guided him now, above all else. Jabba chortled evilly. Poor Rancor. A loud cheer rose from the crowd as the prisoners were carried off. She sighed deeply, to expel her doubts. Its sand-blasted iron hull creaked in the slight breeze, each puff of wind coughing into the two huge sails as if even nature suffered some terminal malaise wherever it came near Jabba.
He was belowdecks, now, with most of his court, hiding the decay of his spirit from the cleansing sun. Alongside the barge, two small skiffs floated in formation —one an escort craft, bearing six scruffy soldiers; the other, a gun skiff, containing the prisoners: Han, Chewie, Luke.
They were all in bonds, and surrounded by armed guards—Barada, two Weequays. And Lando Calrissian. Barada was the no-nonsense sort, and not likely to let anything get out of hand. He carried a long-gun as if he wanted nothing more than to hear it speak.
The Weequays were an odd sort. They were brothers, leathery and bald save for a tribal top-knot, braided and worn to the side. No one was certain whether Weequay was the name of their tribe, or their species; or whether all in their tribe were brothers, or all were named Weequays. It was known only that these two were called by this name, and that they treated all other creatures indifferently. With each other they were gentle, even tender; but like Barada, they seemed anxious for the prisoners to misbehave.
And Lando, of course, remained silent, ready—waiting for an opportunity. Han kept his ear tuned, for his eyes were still useless. And, of course—as always— he spoke just to hear himself speak. Nothing ever to do here, really, for man or boy, but cruise the monotonous dunes and try to avoid the peevish Tusken Raiders who guarded the sand as if it were gold-dust. Luke knew this place. Luke thought of him now with great love, and great sorrow. Taken him there after Imperial storm-troopers had murdered Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru, searching for the fugitive droids, Artoo and Threepio.
Like a recurring dream he knew this place; and he had sworn then that he would never return. I had to get you out of there. Just stay close to Chewie and Lando. A fast ship and a good blaster are what Han believed in, and he wished he had them now. Jabba sat in the main cabin of the Sail Barge, surrounded by his entire retinue. The party at the palace was simply continuing, in motion—the result being a slightly wobblier brand of carousing--more in the nature of a prelynching celebration.
So blood lust and belligerence were testing new levels. Threepio was way out of his depth. At the moment, he was being forced to translate an argument between Ephant Mon and Ree-Yees, concerning a point of quark warfare that was marginally beyond him.
Ephant concluded the oration with a typically bellicose avowal. All three eyes dilated in fury. See Threepio felt this response needed no translation, and took the opportunity to slip to the rear—where he promptly bumped into a small droid serving drinks. The drinks spilled everywhere. The stubby little droid let out a fluent series of irate beeps, toots, and whistles—recognizable to Threepio instantly.
He looked down in utter relief. What are you doing here? But this place is dangerous. Jabba chuckled to see Ephant Mon go down—he loved Jabba chuckled to see Ephant Mon go down—he loved a good beating. He especially loved to see strength crumble, to see the proud fall.
Soon you will begin to appreciate me. Leia opened her mouth and she closed her mind. The worse things she knew well. She had almost broken. Tortured her body first, with his efficient pain-droids. Needles, pressure points, fire-knives, electrojabbers.
She slid a few feet away from Jabba, now, as his attention was distracted—moved to peer out the slats in the louvered windows, to squint through the dusty sunlight at the skiff on which her rescuers were being carried. It was stopping. The whole convoy was stopping, in fact, over a huge sand pit.
The Sail Barge moved to one side of the giant depression, with the escort skiff. At the bottom of the deep cone of sand, a repulsive, mucus-lined, pink, membranous hole puckered, almost unmoving. The hole was eight feet in diameter, its perimeter clustered with three rows of inwardly-directed needle-sharp teeth. Sand stuck to the mucus that lined the sides of the opening, occasionally sliding into the black cavity at the center. This was the mouth of the Sarlacc. Jabba moved his party up to the observation deck.
Luke rubbed his wrists to restore circulation. The heat shimmering off the desert warmed his soul—for finally, this would always be his home. Born and bred in a Bantha patch. He saw Leia standing at the rail of the big barge, and winked. She winked back. Jabba motioned Threepio to his side, then mumbled orders to the golden droid. Threepio stepped up to the comlink. Jabba raised his arm, and the whole motley array of intergalactic pirates fell silent.
This did not scan at all. Someone had obviously mislaid the correct program. Nonetheless, he was only a droid, his functions well delineated. Translation only, no free will please. He shook his head and continued. Chewie reached over and turned Solo around, so he was now properly facing the piece of worm-ridden filth he was addressing. Han nodded, without stopping. Luke was ready. The monsters on the barge roared with laughter.
Artoo, during this commotion, rolled silently up the ramp to the side of the upper deck. Jabba raised his hand, and his minions were quiet. Then he turned his thumb down. Luke looked up at Artoo, standing alone by the rail, and flipped the little droid a jaunty salute. Luke jumped off the plank; another bloodthirsty cheer went up. In less than a second, though, Luke had spun around in freefall, and caught the end of the plank with his fingertips.
The thin metal bent wildly from his weight, paused near to snapping, then catapulted him up. Casually, he extended his arm to his side, palm up—and suddenly, his lightsaber, which Artoo had shot sailing toward him, dropped neatly into his open hand.
With Jedi speed, Luke ignited his sword and attacked the guard at the skiff-edge of the plank, sending him, screaming, overboard into the twitching mouth of the Sarlacc.
The other guards swarmed toward Luke. Grimly he waded into them, lightsaber flashing. Darth Vader, who had told Luke he his hand as well.
Darth Vader, who had told Luke he was his father. He wielded it now as if it were fused to his hand; as if it were an extension of his own arm. He cut through the onslaught like a light dissolving shadows. Lando grappled with the helmsman, trying to seize the controls of the skiff. Luke picked himself up and ran toward the helmsman, lightsaber raised. The creature retreated at the overpowering sight, stumbled The bewildered guard landed in the soft, sandy slope of the pit and began an inexorable slide down toward the toothy, viscous opening.
He clawed desperately at the sand, screaming. All this happened in a matter of seconds. When he saw what was happening, Jabba exploded in a rage, and yelled furious commands at those around him. In a moment, there was general uproar, with creatures running through every door. It was during this directionless confusion that Leia acted.
Then she dove off the other side of the support, pulling the chain violently in her grasp. With a strength beyond her own strength, she pulled. He bucked with his huge torso, nearly breaking her fingers, bucked with his huge torso, nearly breaking her fingers, nearly yanking her arms from their sockets. He could get no leverage, his bulk was too unwieldy. But just his sheer mass was almost enough to break any mere physical restraint. She closed her eyes, closed out the pain in her hands, focused all of her life-force—and all it was able to channel—into squeezing the breath from the horrid creature.
With a last gasping effort, Jabba tensed every muscle and lurched forward. His reptilian eyes began to bulge from their sockets as the chain tightened; his oily tongue flopped from his mouth. His thick tail twitched in spasms of effort, until he finally lay still--deadweight. Leia set about trying to free herself from the chain at her neck, while outside, the battle began to rage.
Boba Fett ignited his rocket pack, leaped into the air, and with a single effort flew down from the barge to the skiff just as Luke finished freeing Han and Chewie from their bonds. A series of blasts suddenly erupted from the large cannon on the upper deck of the barge, hitting the skiff broadside, and rocking it forty degrees askew.
Lando was tossed from the deck, but at the last moment he grabbed a broken strut and dangled desperately above the Sarlacc. Wounded, the Wookiee howled in pain. Luke looked over at his hairy friend; whereupon Boba Fett, taking advantage of that moment of distraction, fired a cable from out of his armored sleeve. The cable wrapped itself several times around Luke, pinning his arms to his sides, his sword arm now free only from the wrist down. He bent his wrist, so the lightsaber pointed straight up In a moment, the lightsaber touched the end of the wire lasso, cutting through it instantly.
Luke shrugged the cable away, just as another blast hit the skiff, knocking Boba unconscious to the deck. Unfortunately this explosion also dislodged the strut from which Lando was hanging, sending him careening into the Sarlacc pit.
Luke was shaken by the explosion, but unhurt. Lando hit the sandy slope, shouted for help, and tried to scramble out. The loose sand only tumbled him deeper toward the gaping hole. Lando closed his eyes and tried to think of all the ways he might give the Sarlacc a thousand years of indigestion. Maybe if he talked that last guard out of his uniform It was a Jedi rule-of-thumb, but it took the soldiers in the second skiff by surprise: when outnumbered, attack.
This drives the force of the enemy in toward himself. Luke jumped directly into the center of the skiff and immediately began decimating them in their midst with lightning sweeps of his lightsaber. Back in the other boat, Chewie tried to untangle himself from the wreckage, as Han struggled blindly to his feet. Chewie barked at him, trying to direct him toward a spear lying loose on the deck. Lando screamed, starting to slide closer to the glistening jaws.
At last, Han locked onto the spear. Boba Fett stumbled up just then, still a little dizzy from Boba Fett stumbled up just then, still a little dizzy from the exploding shell. He looked over at the other skiff, where Luke was in a pitched battle with six guards. With one hand Boba steadied himself on the rail; with the other he aimed his weapon at Luke.
Chewie barked at Han. Chewie barked. Instinctively, Fett blocked the blow with his forearm; again, he aimed at Luke. Chewie barked frantically. The impact caused the rocket to ignite. Boba blasted off unexpectedly, shooting over the second skiff like a missile and ricocheting straight down into the pit. His foot caught on the railing, though, leaving him swinging precariously above the Sarlacc. The wounded Wookiee tenaciously held on to the twisted debris astern. Luke finished going through his adversaries on the second skiff, assessed the problem quickly, and leaped across the chasm of sand to the sheer metal side of the huge barge.
Slowly, he began a handover-hand climb up the hull, toward the deck gun. Meanwhile, on the observation deck, Leia had been intermittently struggling to break the chain which bound her to the dead gangster, and hiding behind his massive carcass whenever some guard ran by. She stretched her full length, now, trying to retrieve a discarded laser pistol —to no avail.
Fortunately, Artoo at last came to her rescue, after having first lost his bearings and rolled down rescue, after having first lost his bearings and rolled down the wrong plank. He zipped up to her finally, extended a cutting appendage from the side of his casing, and sliced through her bonds. On the way, they passed Threepio, lying on the floor, screaming, as a giant, tuberous hulk named Hermi Odle sat on him.
Not my eyes! Threepio quickly rose, his eye dangling from a sheaf of wires; then he and Artoo hurriedly followed Leia out the back door.
The deck gun blasted the tilting skiff once more, shaking The deck gun blasted the tilting skiff once more, shaking out virtually everything that remained inside except Chewbacca. Desperately holding on with his injured arm, he was stretching over the rail, grasping the ankle of the dangling Solo, who was, in turn, sightlessly reaching down for the terrified Calrissian.
Lando had managed to stop his slippage by lying very still. Chewie barked another direction at Han. He lit his lightsaber before they could squeeze off a shot; a moment later they were smoking corpses. A company of guards suddenly rushed up the steps from the lower decks, firing. He ran down the deck, but was quickly surrounded.
Two of the soldiers manned the deck gun again. Luke looked at his hand; the mechanism was exposed—the complex steel-and-circuit construction that replaced his real hand, which Vader had cut off in their last encounter. He flexed the mechanism; it still worked. The deck gunners fired at the skiff below. It hit to the side of the small boat. Talk about a wild card—they kept changing the rules every five minutes in this game. What kind of odds was anybody gonna give on tentacles? Very long, he decided with a fatalistic grunt; long, and sticky.
The deck gunners realigned their sights for the final kill, but it was all over for them before they could fire—Leia had commandeered the second deck gun, at the other end of the ship.
With her first shot she blasted the rigging that stood between the two deck guns. With her second shot she wiped out the first deck gun.
The explosions rocked the great barge, momentarily distracting the five guards who surrounded Luke. In that moment he reached out his hand, and the lightsaber, lying on the deck ten feet away, flew into it. He leaped straight up as two guards fired at him—their laser bolts killed each other. He ignited his blade in the air and, swinging it as he came down, mortally wounded the others.
He yelled to Leia across the deck. Artoo, beside him, beeped wildly. Meanwhile, the tug-of-war was continuing between the Sarlacc and Solo, with Baron Calrissian as the rope and the prize. He aimed the gun toward Lando, then lowered it, barking his concern. He took it with one hand, still holding on to Lando with the other.
A little higher, please. Han squinted The wormy thing instantly released its grip, slithering back into its own mouth. Chewbacca pulled mightily, drawing first Solo back into the boat—and then Lando. Luke, meantime, gathered Leia up in his left arm; with his right he grabbed a hold of a rope from the rigging of the half blown-down mast, and with his foot kicked the trigger of the second deck gun--and jumped into the air as the cannon exploded into the deck.
The two of them swung on the swaying rope, all the way down to the empty, hovering escort skiff. Once there, Luke steered it over to the still-listing prison skiff, where he helped Chewbacca, Han, and Lando on board. The Sail Barge continued exploding behind them. Half of it was now on fire. In a few minutes, they were all in the skiff together, more or less in one piece; and for the first time, they looked at one another and realized they were all in the skiff together, more or less in one piece.
There was a great, long moment of hugging, laughing, crying, and beeping. The roar of it alone was disorienting, sounding like it came from everywhere at once, as if the universe were composed of noise, and this was its chaotic center.
The seven heroes walked step by step through the murky gale, holding on to one another so as not to get lost. Artoo was first, following the signal of the homing device which sang to him in a language not garbled by the wind. Threepio came next, then Leia guiding Han, and finally Luke and Lando, supporting the hobbling Wookiee. Artoo beeped loudly, and they all looked up: vague, dark shapes could be seen through the typhoon. As soon as the group huddled under the bulk of the Falcon, the wind died down to something more describable as a severe weather condition.
Threepio hit a switch, and the gangplank lowered with a hum. Solo turned to Skywalker. Han stopped him, his manner suddenly quieter, even serious. That carbon freeze was the closest thing to dead there is.
This was a new idea for the cocky Solo—at once terrible and wonderful. There was jeopardy in this turn of events. It made him feel somehow blinder than before, but visionary as well. It was confusing. Once, he was alone; now he was a part. It was even freeing, in a strange way. He was no longer so alone.
No longer alone. Luke saw a difference had come over his friend, like a sea change. So he only nodded. Chewie growled affectionately at the young Jedi warrior, mussing his hair like a proud uncle. And Leia warmly hugged him. They all had great love for Solo, but somehow it was easier to show it by being demonstrative to Luke.
The entire Alliance should be assembled by now. The others stood without moving for a moment, trying to see their futures in the swirling sand. Lando jarred them awake. It would be house rules for a while, he knew; but he might be able to load a few dice along the way. Solo clapped him on the back. They all headed up the ramp of the Falcon. Solo paused just before going inside and gave the ship a little pat.
Luke did the same in the X-wing. He strapped himself into the cockpit, started up the engines, felt the comfortable roar. He looked at his damaged hand: wires crossed aluminum bones like spokes in a puzzle. He wondered what the solution was.
Or the puzzle, for that matter. The Super Star Destroyer rested in space above the halfcompleted Death Star battle station and its green neighbor, Endor. The Destroyer was a massive ship, attended by numerous smaller warships of various kinds, which hovered or darted around the great mother ship like children of different ages and temperaments: medium range fleet cruisers, bulky cargo vessels, TIE fighter escorts.
The main bay of the Destroyer opened, space-silent. An Imperial shuttle emerged and accelerated toward the Death Star, accompanied by four squads of fighters. Darth Vader watched their approach on the view-screen in the control room of the Death Star. When docking was imminent, he marched out of the command center, followed by Commander Jerjerrod and a phalanx of Imperial stormtroopers, and headed toward the docking bay. He was about to welcome his master. These things and more. When he entered the docking bay, thousands of Imperial troops snapped to attention with a momentous clap.
The shuttle came to rest on the pod. They poised themselves at watchful guard in two lethal rows beside the ramp. Silence filled the great hall. At the top of the ramp, the Emperor appeared. Slowly, he walked down. A small man was he, shriveled with age and evil. He supported his bent frame on a gnarled cane and covered himself with a long, hooded robe—much like the robe of the Jedi, only black. His robe—much like the robe of the Jedi, only black.
His shrouded face was so thin of flesh it was nearly a skull; his piercing yellow eyes seemed to burn through all at which they stared. When the Emperor reached the bottom of the ramp, Commander Jerjerrod, his generals, and Lord Vader all kneeled before him. The Supreme Dark Ruler beckoned to Vader, and began walking down the row of troops. And someday would encompass the universe Rule with his son at his side. And Luke would come with him, he knew. That seed was sown. They would rule together, father and son.
His dream was very close to realization, he could feel it; it was near. In time, he will seek you out He has grown strong. Only together can we turn him to the dark side of the Force. Great, dark glory. For soon, the old Emperor would die—and though the galaxy would bend from the horror of that loss, Vader would remain to rule, with young Skywalker at his side.
As it was always meant to be. The Emperor raised his head a degree, scanning all the possible futures. He chuckled to himself, savoring the nearness of his chuckled to himself, savoring the nearness of his conquest: the final seduction of the young Skywalker.
Luke left his X-wing parked at the edge of the water and carefully picked his way through the adjoining swamp. A heavy mist hung in layers about him. Jungle steam. A strange insect flew at him from out of a cluster of hanging vines, fluttered madly about his head, and vanished. In the undergrowth, something snarled.
Luke concentrated momentarily. The snarling stopped. Luke walked on. He had terribly ambivalent feelings about this place. His place of tests, of training to be a Jedi. It was walking on light; but to a Jedi it was as stable as an earthen floor. Dangerous creatures lurked in this swamp; but to a Jedi, none were evil. Voracious quicksand mires waited, still as pools; tentacles mingled with the hanging vines. Luke knew them all, now, they were all part of the living planet, each integral to the Force of which he, too, was a planet, each integral to the Force of which he, too, was a pulsing aspect.
Yet there were dark things here, as well—unimaginably dark, reflections of the dark corners of his soul. But some still cowered here. These dark things. He climbed around a barricade of gnarled roots, slippery with moss. On the other side, a smooth, unimpeded path led straight in the direction he wanted to go; but he did not take it. Instead, he plunged once more into the undergrowth. High overhead, something black and flapping approached, then veered away.
Luke paid no attention. He just kept walking. The jungle thinned a bit. Millennia in the past, a Sith starship crashed on an unknown low-tech planet, leaving the survivors stranded. Over the generations, their numbers have grown, the ways of the dark side have been nurtured, and the time is fast approaching when this lost tribe of Sith will once more take to the stars to reclaim their legendary destiny as rulers of the galaxy.
Only one thing stands in their way, a name whispered to them through the Force: Skywalker. Features a bonus section following the novel that includes a primer on the Star Wars expanded universe, and over half a dozen excerpts from some of the most popular Star Wars books of the last thirty years! In this penultimate novel in the bestselling Fate of the Jedi series, Luke Skywalker, his son Ben, and the Sith girl Vestara are in hot pursuit of the dread power called Abeloth, who has joined forces with the Sith in a bid to take over the galaxy.
The leadership of the government is uncertain, torn apart by power struggles and infiltrators, while the Sith have a terrible secret that could shake the Jedi Order to its core The fifth instalment of the blockbuster multibook series, Star Wars: Fate of the Jedi.
Following a trail of clues across the galaxy, Luke Skywalker continues his quest to find the reasons behind Jacen Solo's dark downfall and to win redemption for the Jedi Order.
Sojourning among the mysterious Aing-Tii monks has left Luke and his son Ben with no real answers, only the suspicion that the revelations they seek lie in the forbidden reaches of the distant Maw Cluster. There, hidden from the galaxy in a labyrinth of black holes, dwell the Mind Walkers: those whose power to transcend their bodies and be one with the Force is as seductive and intoxicating as it is potentially fatal.
But it may be Luke's only path to the truth. Outraged over the carbonite freezing of young Jedi Knights Valin and Jysella Horn after their inexplicable mental breakdowns, the Jedi are determined to defy Daala's martial tactics, override Council Master Kenth Hamner's wavering leadership, and deal on their own terms with the epidemic of madness preying on their ranks.
As Han and Leia Solo, along with their daughter Jaina, join the fight to protect more stricken Knights from arrest, Jedi healers race to find a cure for the rapidly spreading affliction. But none of them realize the blaster barrel is already swinging in their directionand Chief Daala is about to pull the trigger. Fate of the Jedi: Omen by Christie Golden. The Jedi Order is in crisis. Shelve Fate of the Jedi: Omen. Book 3. Fate of the Jedi: Abyss by Troy Denning.
Following a trail of clues across the galaxy, Luke… More. Shelve Fate of the Jedi: Abyss. Book 4. Fate of the Jedi: Backlash by Aaron Allston. Repercussions from the dark side's fatal seduction… More. Shelve Fate of the Jedi: Backlash. Book 5. Fate of the Jedi: Allies by Christie Golden. What began as a quest for truth has become a strug… More.
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