Invincible: Star Wars Legends (Legacy of the Force) (Star Wars: Legacy of the Force Book 9) by Denning Troy

Author:Denning, Troy [Denning, Troy]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9780345510563
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2008-05-13T04:00:00+00:00

Do Bothan politicians ever tell the truth? Sure—they’ll do anything to win an election!

—Jacen Solo, age 15

Victory was within his grasp.

On the Commander’s Deck of the Anakin Solo, air was whistling away through a web of hairline cracks in the blast shield. Caedus’s day cabin was gone, and a concave blowout cup was forming in what used to be an interior wall. Lockdown alarms were blaring in every cabin on the bridge, and the entire command staff was running for the hatchways.

But Caedus stood calmly in the Tactical Salon, his gaze fixed on the holodisplay as though he were trying to make sense of the disjointed battle depicted there. He already knew what had happened, of course. The Jedi had used the blood trail to lure him into an ambush, then Luke had led a desperate attack on the Anakin Solo in an attempt to take him out.

And Caedus had survived. When the Jedi had begun their attack, he had been in his observation bubble, using his battle meditation to see through the Force what the fleet’s sensors could not. He had been forced to watch the whole thing in his mind’s eye, issuing useless orders and futile warnings as his sister and Zekk took out the shields. A moment later, the StealthXs had rolled onto the Anakin Solo’s upper hull, their Jedi-guided shadow bombs blasting holes four decks deep.

Then Caedus had spotted the Bes’uliik. When he realized Luke was flying it, his intestines had filled with ice. Knowing that Luke was coming for him—just as Caedus had seen in his visions—he had leapt from his meditation chair and rushed into the Tactical Salon, barely sealing the hatch before Luke launched his bombs.

The hatch had held, and it was still holding. And now here Caedus was, staring at the holodisplay but seeing a throne—a white throne in a brightly lit chamber. There was no one on it, but it was surrounded by a hundred beings regal enough to belong in the seat. They were beings of all species—Bothans and Hutts, Ishi Tib and Mon Calamari, even humans and Squibs—and they all had the easy, amicable bearing of old friends.

But what held Caedus there—what kept him staring at the vision with no regard for the screaming alarm sirens or the flimsiplast fluttering past on escaping air—was the tall, red-headed woman at the center of the crowd. She had her mother’s thin arcing brows and full-lipped mouth, but her nose was her grandmother’s—small and not too long, with just a hint of a button at the end.

“Lord Caedus!” Tahiri’s voice had grown as shrill as the lockdown alarms, and she was tugging his arm, trying in vain to move him away from the holodisplay. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Wrong? Nothing—nothing at all.”

Caedus kept himself rooted to the deck, continuing to stare at his grown-up Allana until a piece of flimsiplast blew through the holograph. Then the white throne and the regal friends all faded away, and the face of his beautiful daughter twisted into the angry, hateful visage of his sister Jaina.

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