Riptide by Paul S. Kemp
Nyss lingered in the cargo bay of the supply ship and watched the spacer go. The droids worked around him, oblivious to his presence. He had no idea what had happened with Korr and the clones.
“Anything on the comm channels?” he asked Syll.
“Nothing new,” she answered.
There was little for him to do but wait. He could not risk revealing himself too soon.
Before Khredyn reached the access door to the stairs, it exploded outward from its hinges and clattered on the landing pad. He ducked and shielded his face from flying debris.
The clones hurried out of the doorway, one of the males bearing a wounded adult, the female carrying a child of about nine. The male clones each held a sparking red lightsaber in hand.
“Stop there,” Khedryn said, leveling his blaster.
They did not stop, so he fired at the foremost male—one shot, another, another. The clone, a towering human male with long hair and a thick beard, deflected the shots into the air and started to run toward Khedryn.
Khedryn backed toward the supply ship as fast as he could, still firing. Deflecting every shot, the clone closed on him rapidly. The other clones moved more slowly behind him.
Khedryn kept hoping that Jaden and Marr would emerge from the stairway, but neither did. He was in deep water and he knew it.
Shots came from somewhere in the sky above. They put black streaks on the landing pad near the clone’s feet and knocked him down. Khedryn looked up to see two police officers on armed swoop bikes circling back for another pass.
“Yeah!” he said, and fired at the clone again.
From his knees, the clone deflected his shots without so much as looking at Khedryn, then made a seizing gesture with his off hand.
Above, the swoops’ engines screamed, warring with the clone’s power and losing. The clone made a cutting gesture, his teeth bared in a snarl, and slammed both swoops to the ground near the stack of shipping containers. A fireball blossomed, consuming bikes and riders. The clone stood, his eyes fixed on Khedryn.
Very deep water.
Khedryn turned and sprinted for the supply ship, firing wildly over his shoulder as he went. He had no idea what he would do once he got aboard the ship—seal it up, maybe buy some time for more police to arrive, for Jaden and Marr to get there.
A blast of power hit him in the back and drove him face-first into the metal of the landing pad. His nose crumpled and exploded blood. His teeth scraped along the pad. Only a surge of adrenaline kept him conscious. He got to all fours, turned, and aimed his blaster at the approaching clone.
Before he could squeeze the trigger, the clone gestured and Khedryn’s blaster flew from his hand and into the clone’s.
Khedryn knew he could not get away. He staggered up onto unsteady legs, swallowed, and resolved to die with defiance.
When the clone had closed to within a few paces, Khedryn spat at his feet. Blood and one of his teeth went with the spit.
“Blast you, pal!”
The clone snarled and made a cutting gesture that blew Khedryn backward ten meters and slammed his head against the landing pad.
Pain and blurry sparks, then blackness.
SOLDIER WATCHED RUNNER STRIDE TOWARD THE FALLEN human. Runner flipped his blade and took a reverse two-handed grip in preparation for driving it through the man’s chest.
“Wait!” Soldier shouted.
Runner looked over his shoulder, the wind blowing his hair across his face so that Soldier could not read his expression.
“Wait, Runner!” Soldier shouted again. “Seer, tell him!”
“Hold, Runner!” Seer said, and Runner obeyed her, though he did not deactivate his blade.
Soldier and Seer, carrying Hunter and Grace, hurried to Runner’s side. Soldier nodded at the downed man. He wasn’t moving, and blood and dirt covered his face.
“If he’s not dead, bring him,” he said to Runner. “He must be with the Jedi. I want to know how they found us. They could send others.”
Runner looked to Soldier, then to Seer, who nodded. Grunting indifferently, Runner picked the man up by the armpits and slung him roughly over his shoulder.
In Seer’s arms, Grace stirred and opened her eyes. “Soldier?” she said.
Soldier smiled, delighted to see Grace’s eyes opened. The meds he’d given her back on the cloakshape were working. “Welcome back,” he said.
“Is that my mother?” Grace said, nodding at Hunter.
Soldier nodded. “She’ll be all right.”
“I want to walk,” Grace said to Seer, and Seer set her down.
Soldier watched her for a moment, then handed Hunter over to Seer.
“I’m going to check the containers the droids have unloaded. I want to make sure the meds are still aboard.”
“Let’s go aboard, Grace,” Seer said.
Soldier watched them all head for the supply ship.
“Get the engines started,” Soldier called to Runner and Seer. He looked skyward at the collection of police swoops that hovered at a distance. They showed no inclination to close or interfere.
Two droids rolled in front of Runner and Seer.
“Excuse me, but you are not authorized to—”
A diagonal slash from Runner’s blades cut both droids in half, and the four smoking, sparking pieces fell to the landing pad.
Still hidden in the darkness of the supply ship’s landing bay, Nyss watched the clones, bearing one of their wounded and Khedryn Faal, board the ship. He could have reached out and touched them with his hand as they passed. The Prime lingered on the deck outside. If Nyss could get the Prime alone, he could take him.
But the female clone shooed the child into the ship, then lingered in the cargo bay, near the ramp, watching the Prime.
Soldier hurriedly examined the labels on the shipping containers the loading droids had already unloaded, looking for the component materials he’d need to mix the Metacycline. He saw only probiotics and other ordinary supplies. No pharma.
“It’s still aboard, isn’t it?” Seer called to him from the loading ramp. He could see her smiling from there, still holding Hunter.
“If it’s here at all,” he answered.
“You’ll come to believe, Soldier.”
He deactivated his lightsaber and hurried to the ship. Seer wore her smile the entire time. When he got in, he used the control panel to raise the cargo doors. By the time they closed, Runner had the engines online.
Storage containers lined the vast space of the cargo bay, hundreds of them stacked like children’s blocks.
“I’ll get the manifest and find the meds we need,” he said to Seer. “Have Runner get the ship into the air and get us heading to … wherever we’re going.”
“To Mother,” Seer said.
Hunter stirred in her arms. The meds were working for her, too.
“Yes,” Soldier said. “To Mother.”
After she left him, he found the nearest comp station and called up the ship’s manifest. He felt as if he were engaged in a test of faith. If Seer was right, the meds were aboard. If she wasn’t, then Seer, Runner, Hunter, and Grace would all die. Maybe Soldier would, too, in time, but he’d die alone, the last of them, purposeless.
He felt the ship lift off, felt the vibration as the landing skids retracted into the body of the ship. The engines engaged with a hum and he imagined the ship streaking skyward.
The manifest came online and he scrolled through it. His heart beat faster than it had when he’d faced the Jedi. He licked dry lips as he eyed the data, hopeful but afraid to let himself hope.
And there they were, just as Seer had said they would be: the genetic stabilizer, the antipsychotics, a few other reagents he’d need to mix in, all of them in such quantities that the clones would have enough for years, even with the accelerated pace of the illness.
Seer was right. Again.
The supply ship would not have a lab aboard, but he could make do. He pressed a button near the station to
“The meds we want are aboard. Lots of them.”
A long pause followed, as if Seer and Runner were digesting his words. Finally Runner said, “We’re away. Scanners show that no one is following us.”
“Good. What about the prisoner?”
“He’s still alive,” Runner answered. “What course should I set?”
Now it was Soldier’s turn for a long pause. After considering, he said, “Ask Seer. She knows where we’re going.”
He imagined her smiling at his response.
Nyss knew the Prime’s name now: Soldier.
He maneuvered in silence through the dimly lit cargo bay, eyeing Soldier while the clone checked the cargo manifest at a comp station. With effort, Nyss kept the suppressive field closely drawn around him. He did not want Soldier to sense it … yet.
Nyss debated incapacitating Soldier then and there, but decided to wait.
If Jaden Korr was still alive, he would come for Khedryn Faal. And, when the time was right, Nyss could use his arrival to take both of them at once.
He moved off deeper into the cargo bay, away from Soldier, and raised Syll on his comlink.
“Have you been able to determine whether Korr is still alive?”
“He is,” Syll said. “Both he and the Cerean are alive. I see them on the roof of the medical facility right now.”
Nyss nodded, pleased. “Good. Don’t let them see you. Lock onto my signal and follow the supply ship.”
“What about Korr?”
“He’ll follow, too. He put a tracking beacon on the supply ship before entering the facility.”
“All right. And then what?”
Nyss was already working out the beginnings of a plan. “Keep your distance until I say otherwise. We’re going to get Korr and the Prime.”
“Should I bring the Iteration out of stasis?”
“Not yet.”
Marr assisted Jaden up the stairs until they reached the roof. The access door had been knocked from its mounting and lay on the landing pad. The supply ship was already one hundred meters off the deck. Police swoops buzzed around it like sand flies, but they could do nothing to slow its ascent.
Burning wreckage lay near a stack of shipping containers, spitting a gout of black smoke into the sky. Pieces of one or more droids lay near where the supply ship had been docked. The rest of the loading droids stood aimlessly near the handful of shipping containers they’d unloaded before the supply ship launched. Junker sat on the pad, her landing ramp open.
Jaden stared up at the rising ship, concentrated, felt the dark-side signatures of the clones aboard.
“The clones are on that ship,” he said.
There was no sign of Khedryn.
Marr nodded, activated his comlink. “Khedryn, do you read? Khedryn?”
No response. A pit formed in Jaden’s stomach.
He and Marr shared a look and ran for Junker, hoping to find Khedryn aboard. Before they reached it, two figures emerged from behind a stack of shipping containers near the burning wreckage. Both wore dazed expressions and the uniforms of corporate flight officers. The older, gray-haired man, his belly hanging over the edge of his pants, wore the captain’s wings. The younger man ran his hand over his hair, his eyes moving from the supply ship to the burning wreckage and back again.
“You piloted the supply ship?” Jaden asked, indicating the ship.
The men nodded, dazed.
“Did you see anyone else out here?” Marr asked them.
The men looked at them, seemingly not comprehending.
Jaden stood with his face in the captain’s, locking the man’s gaze. “Did you see another man around here?” He nodded at Junker. “He would have come out of that ship.”
The captain blinked, nodded. “We saw a man. Dark hair. Lazy eye.”
“That’s him,” Jaden said.
“He got us off the ship,” the copilot said, looking skyward.
“Where is he now?” Marr asked.
“They got him,” the captain said, nodding up at the supply ship just as its ion engines fully engaged and it shot skyward. “I’m sorry. I don’t know if he was alive or dead. He saved us.”
Jaden felt Marr’s concern for Khedryn sharpen. The Cerean closed his eyes, visibly sought his calm. He inhaled deeply.
“Khedryn is still alive,” Marr announced. “I can feel it.”
“Then we’ll get him back,” Jaden said. He felt a rush of guilt. He had been so concerned with his responsibility to Marr that he had neglected his responsibility to Khedryn. The man was so competent that Jaden treated him as he might another Jedi, and that was a mistake. Khedryn would be no match for a trained Force user. Jaden had failed to consider that, and it had cost Khedryn dearly.
“Who were those people?” the copilot asked. “They had lightsabers. Red ones.”
“They’re the bad guys,” Jaden said, and left it at that. To Marr, he said, “Come on,” and they hurried toward Junker.
Police swoops circled the roof, started to descend. Jaden could not afford to waste time with an inquiry. He’d have to explain later.
They boarded Junker as several police swoops set down. Junker’s landing ramp started to rise. The supply ship’s copilot ran toward the closing ramp and shouted at Jaden and Marr before it sealed.
“And who are you two, then?” called the copilot.
The ramp sealed.
“We’re the good guys,” Jaden said softly, and thought of his clone, another him, a murderous version of him.
They hurried through Junker’s corridors for the cockpit.
“I put the tracking beacon on the supply ship,” Jaden said as they ran. “We can follow them wherever they go.”
Marr nodded, his relief palpable to Jaden. Jaden activated his comlink and raised R-6.
“Ar-Six, put the Z-Ninety-five down on the Fhost landing field and seal it up. We’ll be there to get you in a few moments.”
The droid whooped agreement.
“We may need him,” Jaden said to Marr by way of explanation.
“A good idea,” Marr said.
When they reached the cockpit, Marr slammed into his seat and started the launch sequence. His fingers blazed over the controls. Jaden assisted.
“Calm, Marr,” said Jaden. “Strong emotions serve only to slow effective action.”
“Yes, Master,” Marr said, but did not slow.
Several policemen stood outside on the landing pad, beckoning at Jaden and Marr through the transparisteel of the cockpit. Jaden activated the external loudspeaker.
“My name is Jaden Korr, Jedi Knight. The individuals who attacked the facility are criminals sought by the Order. I can’t delay pursuit. Please back away from the ship.”
He saw them confer—pointing at the ship, at the facility—then at last saw a ranking officer shrug and order the rest of them to stand away from Junker.
“She’s ready,” Marr said.
“You want to fly her?” Jaden asked Marr. “You’re still the first officer.”
Marr shook his head. “I’m the copilot and I’m not switching seats unless … I have to.”
Jaden understood. “Let’s get her up, then,” he said, and took the controls.
Junker rose through the smoke and into the sky. The copilot of the supply ship stood with his arm raised in farewell. The gesture touched Jaden.
It made him feel like they were, indeed, the good guys.
They headed for Fhost’s dusty landing field, the field where Jaden had first set down his Z-95 while following the Force Vision that had ultimately led him to the clones. It seemed to have occurred years before, not days.
They spotted his Z-95, R-6 rocking on his arms in excitement beside it. Jaden set down Junker and lowered the landing ramp. R-6 beeped over the comlink when he was aboard, and Jaden launched Junker back into Fhost’s sky.
Before R-6 reached the cockpit, Jaden said to Marr, “I got good looks at the clo
Marr nodded absently, still plotting courses, trying to get a fix on the tracking beacon.
“One of them was of Lumiya, a Sith agent.”
Marr said nothing, lost in his task. He wouldn’t know who Lumiya was.
“Another was of my own Master, Kyle Katarn.”
That brought Marr up short. “I’m … sorry, Master. That must have been hard to see.”
Jaden plowed onward. “It was. But listen, Marr. The other clone was of me.”
Marr swung in his seat to face Jaden. “Of you?”
Jaden nodded.
“But … how is that possible?”
Jaden stared out the canopy. They were just moving through the atmosphere, the blue of Fhost’s sky fading to the black of outer space.
“I’m still trying to figure that out myself. The math …”
“Grand Admiral Thrawn was killed five years after the Emperor died.”
Jaden smiled absently. “You’ve been studying your history.”
“As you instructed me to do, Master. When did you enter the Jedi Academy?”
“Nine years after the Emperor died.”
Marr stared at him, the implication obvious. Jaden stated it anyway.
“The Empire had my DNA before anyone knew I was Force-sensitive. Not even my uncle knew.”
“Obviously someone in the Empire knew.”
Jaden shook his head. “Not possible.”
“I don’t understand. That doesn’t make sense.”
“I know.”
“Then … what are you saying?”
Jaden struggled to maintain calm. “I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m just stating the facts.”
Marr sat quietly for a moment, and Jaden could see the gears of his mind turning. Finally, Marr said, “We don’t know that they took your DNA before you enrolled at the Academy. They could have taken it after. The cloning program may have continued long after Thrawn’s death. Someone else could have continued the program. And the pace of a clone’s aging can be controlled.”
“That’s possible,” Jaden acknowledged.
He tried not to grab too hard at Marr’s theory, though it struck him as profoundly better than the alternative.