Light of the Jedi(54)
Elzar reached into his tunic and produced a datachip, which he handed to Vellis.
“That’s everything we have so far. The Republic Transport Bureau’s personnel have analyzed the wreckage, and based on the wear patterns, it looks very much like the Legacy Run disintegrated in transit.”
“A collision?” Marlowe said.
“No,” Avar said. “It seems that the ship attempted to execute a maneuver that stressed its superstructure beyond its capabilities. I’m oversimplifying, but it seems to have ripped itself apart.”
Vellis and Marlowe were silent for a moment. Vellis set his glass down. Avar didn’t think he’d even tasted his drink.
“I’m sure you both know this, but the nature of hyperspace means that there is never any reason to maneuver at all. It’s empty. There’s nothing to hit. Routes are precisely calculated to ensure collisions like this are impossible.”
“We know that,” Elzar said. “Everyone knows that. But…something happened out there, and people continue to die and suffer across the Outer Rim. Pretending it’s impossible just wastes time.”
He pointed at the datachip Vellis was still holding.
“We’re examining a few possibilities. It’s all on the chip. Our first thought was pilot error, but we looked into that. The captain of the Legacy Run was a woman named Hedda Casset. Ex-military, a decorated veteran. It’s hard to imagine she would make a mistake that would result in the destruction of her ship. By all accounts, she was steady and focused.”
“A mutiny?” Marlowe asked.
“Why?” Avar replied. “It was a ship full of settlers. A routine run from the Core to the Outer Rim Territories. Nothing unusual or extremely valuable aboard.”
“Strange things can happen psychologically when you’re out in deep space,” Marlowe said. “We have stories from our family’s history you wouldn’t believe. Madness creeps in before you know it.”
“Fair,” Elzar said, “But this was a straightforward run on a well-traveled route. RTB officials interviewed some of the survivors we rescued, and they didn’t suggest anything along those lines. Mutiny’s low on the list.”
“Maybe the ship malfunctioned?” Vellis ventured.
“Not impossible, but unlikely,” Avar continued. “The Legacy Run was an old vessel, but we know from its maintenance records that Captain Casset kept it in top condition, and it had a full overhaul two runs before the trip that killed it.”
“Our working theory is that it encountered something in the hyperspace lane, and it tried to avoid running into it,” Elzar broke in.
“Impossible,” Marlowe said. “I just told you. Hyperspace doesn’t work that way.”
Avar caught a flicker of an impulse from Elzar. Not a word, not a message, but something she understood all the same. She had known Elzar Mann for a very long time—they were younglings together, and Padawans, and that created a connection, a bond through the Force that meant sometimes they didn’t have to use words to understand each other.
But if Elzar had used words, she knew what she was sensing from him would mean: He’s lying.
Elzar was better at sensing deception than she was. Now, when it came to her particular gift, a native understanding of the way the Force touched all life in the galaxy, she thought there might not be a more skilled Jedi in the Order than herself. Well, perhaps Master Yoda. But as far as understanding people…Elzar Mann was an expert. She didn’t think he even needed to use the Force to do it.
Avar suspected he was considering a use of the Force right then, however—what most Jedi called the mind touch, and he called the mind trick. He found it a more honest way to describe what was actually being done. Elzar would lift two fingers in a subtle gesture and touch Marlowe San Tekka’s mind with the Force, and then Marlowe would do whatever Elzar said next.
The mind touch was a tool of the light, Avar knew, but she preferred indirect approaches to such a focused intervention in another person’s path. Elzar had his reservations as well, but viewed the technique as a way to open people to the truth, to provide clarity, to allow them to feel the will of the Force. To put it another way—he was a problem solver, and the mind touch certainly solved problems.
Avar sent an impulse of her own across their link, one he would recognize immediately, simple and straightforward.
No.
Elzar turned and looked at her, his face expressionless but easy for her to read. His mouth quirked up into a quick little smile—okay, you got me—and then he looked back at the San Tekkas.
“Are you absolutely certain a collision is impossible, Vellis?” Avar asked. “Perhaps a derelict ship, or an asteroid…? Surely there must be a way for an object to be left adrift in the hyperspace lanes.”
Vellis shook his head. “Hyperspace is not like realspace. Once a ship—or anything else—enters it, there’s no way to encounter anything. You’re in a bubble of space–time that nothing else can interact with, because each lane is, as far as we can tell, its own distinct plane of existence.”
Avar knew she would remember those words every time she traveled in hyperspace for the rest of her life. A jump to lightspeed had become such a routine event, but each time it happened was a step away from everything familiar, a journey into a new universe, some new realm. The song of the Force was beautiful, but sometimes its indescribable vastness left her feeling insignificant, despite all her focus, all her training. It could leave her reeling.