And this is close to nothing,she thought as she padded across the salty grime of the beach. The mainland had provided everything the Keshiri needed to thrive. Here, bare necessities would have to be clawed for. Infrequent rains pooled fresh water on concave reefs. The uvak, use-

mill_9780345519412_2p_all_r1.qxp:8p insert template 2/25/10 1:27 PM

28

John Jackson Miller

less in these doldrums, would have to be culled dramati-cally to give the scant vegetation a chance. Their flesh was barely edible; their carcasses yielded the only building materials.

To her intellectual pursuits, the island offered nothing at all. Just the same volcanic rubble from beach to hill-crest. Years in a purgatory of her own making weren’t enough, it seemed: now she must be bored to death. All she’d found was an ancient Keshiri corpse—another lonely victim of the oceanic air currents.

Why couldn’t the Sith have landedhere ?

She knew the answer. The Sith had been trapped in such a place. To save herself—from them, and from the elders—she had set them loose. Korsin had been right, those years ago. We all do what we have to do.

They were doing it now. Adari looked at Nink, dying of exhaustion, forked feet barely responding to the caresses of the surf. She couldn’t simply bury him when the time came; he’d be needed, just like the rest. The uvak were integral to their survival—but disposable when necessary.

The Sith had looked upon the Keshiri in exactly the same way.

Adari studied her people, toiling mutely on the island.

They expected they wouldn’t survive the year. Worse, anyone who came looking for them would not be a savior.

Perhaps Korsin’s Sith worried about the same thing, she thought. Perhaps the tales were true. Perhaps the real Skyborn, the trueProtectors of legend, were out there somewhere, hunting for the Sith.

She didn’t believe it.

But then, she never had.

Seelah awoke on a slab in her old sick ward. There wasn’t any difference between the patient accommoda-

mill_9780345519412_2p_all_r1.qxp:8p insert template 2/25/10 1:27 PM

Star Wars: Lost Tribe of the Sith:Savior 29

tions and the biers in the morgue; it was all cold marble, just as everything in the accursed temple was.

She was moving now—only her legs weren’t. She remembered it all. Seconds after she saw Nida arrive, Gloyd brought the fight into her chamber. Gloyd had always bragged that whoever took him out wouldn’t live to celebrate. Indeed, cornered by Seelah and her confederates, Gloyd had activated something he must have had literally up his sleeve since the crash: a proton detonator.

The Houk’s insurance policy had brought the room down on the entire party.

The Force had helped free Seelah from the rubble that pinned her from the knees down, but nothing could make her walk again. She didn’t need her medical training to recognize that. She’d worked tirelessly to become a perfect specimen of humanity, something for the Tribe to aspire to. Now, sitting up and surveying her cuts and bruises, she knew she would never live up to her old example again.

“You’re awake.” came a soft female voice. “Good.”

Seelah craned her neck to see her daughter in the doorway, wearing her outfit from Dedication Day. When Nida didn’t move to enter, Seelah used her aching arms to turn herself.

“You’re going to be doing a lot of that,” Nida said, stepping inside and dipping a cup into a basin. She drank deeply and exhaled. “Oh, when you need it, the water’s over here.” She looked away.

Nida explained how she had learned from Tona Vaal of the plan to steal the Sith’s uvak, timed just when as many important Sith as possible would be on the mountain. It had taken her more time than she expected, but she had foiled the plot in Tahv and hurried to her father’s side. “I guess you can feel it—Father’s gone.”

Seelah licked her lips, tasting her own dried blood.

“Yes. And Jariad?”

mill_9780345519412_2p_all_r1.qxp:8p insert template 2/25/10 1:27 PM

30

John Jackson Miller

“Father tried to throw him over the side with the Force,” Nida said. “He tried . . . and when he failed, Idid it.”

Seelah looked blankly at her daughter.

“I hated to use poor Tona like that,” Nida said, “but he thought he had something I wanted.” She took another sip and dropped the cup. “We had something in common, you know. Our mothers had no use for our fathers.”

Tona had revealed that the conspirators were taking the uvak to the Sessal Spire, but he knew nothing beyond that. “There’s no sign of them there,” Nida said. “Our guess is they plunged themselves into the lava pit. In spite—or fear. It doesn’t matter.” Sith or Keshiri, dissent was finished on Kesh. It had been a productive day.

“I came here because we just had the reading of Father’s final testament,” she said. It existed—in her care. “He commends his legacy to me—and the three surviving High Lords have ratified it. So you see? You arethe mother of the new Grand Lord. Congratulations.”

Nida beamed. At her age, she could expect to rule Kesh for decades to come. “Or until the Sith come to rescue us.”

Seelah sneered. “You area child.” She slid from the slab, only to brace herself against it with her hands when her feet failed to respond. “No one’s coming for us. Your father knew that.”

“He told me. It doesn’t really matter to me, one way or the other.”

“It should,” Seelah said, struggling to straighten. “If I tell those people out there . . .”

Nida casually replaced the cup and stepped back toward the doorway. “There’s no one out there,” she said. “Perhaps you should hear the rest of Father’s final wishes.” Henceforth, she explained, on the death of the Grand Lord, that person’s spouse and household laborers, too, would be sacrificed. “Technically, to honor him mill_9780345519412_2p_all_r1.qxp:8p insert template 2/25/10 1:27 PM

Star Wars: Lost Tribe of the Sith:Savior 31

or her—but you and I know what it’s about.” She ran her gloved fingers through her hair. “I imagine it’s going to put a crimp in my social life, but I’ll cope.”

Seelah caught her breath. “You mean . . . ?”

“Relax,” Nida said. “ Henceforth.No, I’ve ordered that all Sith remove themselves from this mountain, in honor of Father’s passing. While I live, none may return here. This is your new home—again.” And with that, she stepped out into the courtyard.

It took Seelah painful minutes to follow, dragging herself across the stonework. Nida was stepping onto the stirrup of her uvak, surrounded by hejarbo-shoot crates of fruits and vegetables. More would be dropped by reg-ular uvak overflights, Nida said; the only creatures, wild or trained, to be allowed in the airspace above the temple. Elsewhere in the compound, access to Omen’s shel-ter had been cut off. Below, the path up the mountain was being barricaded, even now. It had been painstak-ingly carved, but it would now be blocked forever.

What remained, Seelah saw as she looked around, was the cold temple she had come to despise living in. A home fit only for a goddess on high—forever. Alone.

“Nida,” Seelah coughed as Nida began to take flight.

“Nida, you’re my child.

“Yes, that’s what they tell me. Good-bye.”

mill_9780345519412_2p_all_r1.qxp:8p insert template 2/25/10 1:27 PM

Read on for an excerpt from

Star Wars: Fate of the Jedi:Allies by Christie Golden

Published by Del Rey Books

A b o a r d t h e J a d e S h a d o w Ben wondered if he’d be his father’s age before things started going right for him on any basis other than what appeared to be happy accidents.

Then he wondered if he’d be older than his dad.

True, he’d had a couple of uneventful years after the war. But then his father got arrested and exiled for a decade. Jedi who had spent formative years on Shelter in the Maw—and yes, Ben was among that number, how reassuring was thatlittle fact—started going crazy.