Star Wars: Lost Tribe of the Sith #3: Paragon by John Jackson Miller

By John Jackson Miller

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He’d been key to coordinating the previous night’s gambit, getting her accomplices where they needed to go. It was right that he should have part of this moment. The boy panted, looking down at his victim. ” “Be patient,” Seelah said, stroking his hair. ” Tilden Kaah walked quietly along the darkened pathways of Tahv, only recently paved with stones. The Sith had dismissed the other Keshiri attendants earlier in the morning, when the excitement began; he had been one of the last to leave. The streets, usually peopled with merrymakers even at this hour, were alarmingly still.

He stretched out, momentarily stunned but unbroken, and stared up through the trees. qxp:8p insert template Star Wars: Fate of the Jedi: Backlash 12/1/09 35 swirl of pollen from the stand of yellow flowers he’d just crashed through. In the distance, he could hear the roar of Ben’s speeder bike, hear its engine whine as the boy put it in a hard maneuver, trying to get back to Luke. Closer, there were footsteps. Heavy, ponderous footsteps. A moment later, their origin, the owner of that huge arm, loomed over Luke.

She’d have to put in to some civilized planet to make contact. That meant arriving unseen, or arriving and departing so swiftly that the Jedi could not detect her in time to catch her. It also meant acquiring sufficient credits to fund a secret, no-way-to-trace-it hypercomm message. All of these plans would take time to bring to reality. Vestara knew, deep in her heart, and within the warning currents of the Force, that Luke Skywalker intended to track her to her homeworld of Kesh. How he planned to do it, she didn’t know, but her sense of paranoia, trained at the hands of Lady Rhea, burned within her as though her blood itself were acid.

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