by Greg Keyes
“Saved them for what? So they can flee from planet to planet until there’s nowhere else to go? Jacen Solo, who denied the Force, are you lecturing me on what is and isn’t effective?”
“What isn’t effective is this argument,” Luke interjected. “We need calm. We need to think rationally.”
“I’m not sure that’s what we need at all,” Kyp shot back. “Look where your rational policies have gotten us. We’re alone, now, don’t you all see that? Everyone has turned against us.”
“You’re overstating.”
Anakin switched his gaze to the new speaker, Cilghal. The Mon Calamari’s fishlike head bobbed as her bulbous eyes searched around the chamber.
“We still have many allies,” Cilghal said, “in the senate and among the peoples of the New Republic.”
“If by allies you mean people without the guts to actually turn us in, yes,” Kyp said. “But wait a bit. More Jedi will be killed or captured. Stay here, meditate, and wait for them. I won’t. I know what the fight is and where it is.” With that he turned on his heel and started from the chamber.
“No!” Jaina whispered to Anakin. “If Kyp leaves, he’ll take too many with him.”
“So?” Anakin said. “Are you so sure he’s wrong?”
“Of course I—” She stopped, paused, started again. “It won’t help any of us if the Jedi split. We have to try to help Uncle Luke. Come on.”
Jaina followed Kyp from the chamber. After a second or two, Anakin followed. The debate began again behind them, in much more muted terms.
Kyp turned as they approached. “Anakin, Jaina. What do you want?”
“To talk some sense into you,” Jaina said.
“I have plenty of sense,” Kyp said. “You two ought to know better. When did either of you flinch from battle? It’s not like you two to sit while others fight.”
“I haven’t been,” Jaina flared. “Neither has Anakin, or Uncle Luke, or—”
“Spare me. Jaina, I have the greatest respect for Master Skywalker. But he is wrong. I can’t see the Yuuzhan Vong in the Force any more than he can, but I don’t need that to know they’re evil. To know they have to be stopped.”
“Couldn’t you just hear Uncle Luke out?”
“I did. He didn’t say anything I was interested in, and he wasn’t going to.” Kyp shook his head. “Your uncle has changed. Something happens to Jedi Masters as they grow older in the Force. Something that isn’t going to happen to me. They become so concerned with light and dark they can’t act, but can only be acted upon. Like Obi-Wan Kenobi—rather than act himself, he allowed himself to be struck down, become one with the Force, so Luke could then take all of the moral risks.”
“That’s not how Uncle Luke tells it.”
“Your uncle is too close to it. And now he’s become Kenobi.”
“What are you saying, exactly?” Jaina said. “That Uncle Luke is a coward?”
Kyp shrugged and flashed a little smile. “When it comes to his life, no. But when it comes to the Force …” He gestured with the back of his hand. “Ask your brother Jacen—seems to me he’s going gray early, in that respect. The whole galaxy is falling apart around him, and he’s dithering over theoretical philosophy.”
“He did use the Force, though, as you pointed out,” Jaina retorted.
“To save his mother’s life, from what I heard, and almost not then. How long was she in a bacta tank?”
“But he did save her, and me, too.”
“Of course. But would he have called on the Force to save some Duros he didn’t know? Given the fact that he had ample opportunity to do so before that, the answer is self-evidently no. So it wasn’t some universal respect for preserving life or anything of that sort that led him to break his self-imposed ban, was it?”
“No,” Anakin murmured.
“Anakin!” Jaina snapped.
“It’s true,” Anakin replied. “I’m glad he did it, and I’m glad he hurt the warmaster, even if he did call for the heads of all the Jedi, but Kyp’s right. If you and Mom hadn’t been there …”
“Jacen was going through a hard time,” Jaina said.
“Like the rest of us aren’t,” Anakin returned.
“I’ve got to go,” Kyp told them. “Any time either of you wants to fly with me, find me. Other than that, I sincerely hope Master Skywalker comes around. I just can’t wait for it. May the Force be with you.”
They watched him go.
“I wish I didn’t more than half think he was right,” Jaina whispered. “I feel like I’m somehow betraying Uncle Luke.”
Anakin nodded. “I know what you mean. But Kyp is right, about one thing anyway. Whatever else we do, we’re going to have to look out for our own.”
“Jedi for Jedi?” Jaina snorted. “Uncle Luke knows that. I’m not sure where he sent Mom, Dad, Threepio, and Artoo, but it’s got something to do with setting up a network to help Jedi escape before being turned over to the Yuuzhan Vong.”
Anakin shook his head. “Fine, but that’s what Kyp meant by only defending. We’ll never win this war by being reactive. We have to be proactive. We need intelligence. We need to know which Jedi are at risk before they come for us.”
“How can we know that?”
“Think logically. Any planet already taken by the Yuuzhan Vong is obviously dangerous. The planets near occupied space are the next most dangerous, because they’re desperate to strike a deal.”
“The warmaster said he would spare the rest of the galaxy, but only if they turn all of us over to them. That sort of spreads the desperation out, at least for people dumb enough to believe him. We saw what Yuuzhan Vong promises meant on Duro. Don’t cooperate with them and they mow you down. If you do cooperate with them, they mow you down, laughing about how stupid you’ve been.”
Anakin shrugged. “Obviously a lot of people would rather believe Yuuzhan Vong lies than take their chances. The point is—”
“The point is, what are you two doing out here rather than in the meeting?” Jacen Solo asked from the end of the corridor.
“We were trying to talk Kyp into staying,” Anakin told his older brother.
“It’d be easier talking a siringana into a box.”
“True,” Jaina said, “but we had to try. I guess we ought to go back in now.”
“Don’t bother. A few minutes after Kyp walked out, Uncle Luke called a recess. Too much angst and confusion.”
“It’s not going well,” Jaina said.
“No. Too many people think Kyp is right.”
“What do you think?” Anakin asked.
“He’s wrong,” Jacen said without hesitation. “Answering naked aggression with naked aggression can’t be the solution.”
“No? If you hadn’t used that particular solution, you, Mom, and Jaina would be dead right now. Would the universe be better off?”
“Anakin, I’m not proud of—” Jacen began.
Jaina cut him off. “Don’t you two start again. Anakin and I were talking about something constructive when you joined us. Let’s not degenerate into bickering, like the others. We’re siblings, after all. If we can’t talk through this without losing it, how can we expect anyone else to?”
Jacen held his gaze on Anakin for another few heartbeats, waiting to see who would flinch first.
It was Jacen.
“What were you discussing?” he asked softly.
Jaina looked relieved. “How to figure out where the worst hot spots are, which Jedi are in the most immediate danger,” she said.
Jacen quirked his mouth as if tasting a Hutt appetizer. “With the Peace Brigade out there, that’s an open question. They aren’t tied to the interests of a single system. They’ll hunt us from the Rim to the Core if they think it’ll appease the Yuuzhan Vong.”
“The Peace Brigade can’t be everywhere at once. They can’t follow every rumor they’ve heard about Jedi.”
“The Peace Brigade has plenty of allies, and good intelligence,” Jacen countered
. “Given what they’ve managed already, they must have more than a few insiders, maybe even in the senate. They don’t have to chase rumors. More often than not, from what I can tell, they don’t even make half the captures they boast about. They’re just the flesh merchants who turn Jedi over to the Yuuzhan Vong.”
“I still have a bad feeling about the senator from Kuat, Viqi Shesh,” Jaina muttered.
“My point is this,” Anakin said. “It’s hard to predict which single Jedi might be next on their list. But if they could get a package deal, wouldn’t they jump at it?”
Jaina’s eyes widened. “You think they’ll move against us while we’re gathered here?”
Anakin drew a negative arc with his chin. “Things aren’t that bad yet, and who would want to face all of the most powerful Jedi in the galaxy at once? That would be crazy—us they’ll pick off one at a time. But—”
“The praxeum!” Jacen interrupted.
“Yes,” Anakin agreed. “The Jedi academy!”
“But they’re just kids!” Jaina said.
“Have you noticed that makes any difference to the Yuuzhan Vong, or to the Peace Brigade, for that matter?” Jacen asked. “Besides, Anakin’s only sixteen, and he’s killed more Yuuzhan Vong in hand-to-hand combat than any of us. The Yuuzhan Vong know that.”
“What about the illusion the Jedi have been maintaining around Yavin Four? That’s been keeping strangers away.”
“Not since almost all of the Jedi Knights have left,” Anakin said. “They’ve either come to Coruscant to this meeting, or gone off to try to help comrades who’ve disappeared. Last I heard, only the students Kam and Tionne are left, with maybe Streen, and Master Ikrit. They might not be strong enough. Where did Uncle Luke go? We should talk to him about this, right away. It may already be too late.”
“That’s a good call, Anakin,” Jacen admitted.
“Thanks.”
What Anakin didn’t mention to his siblings was how he had awakened in the night, heart thrumming, gripped by a nameless dread. And though he couldn’t remember the dream that had torn him from sleep, one image had remained with him: the blond hair and green eyes of Tahiri, his best friend.
And Tahiri was at the academy.
CHAPTER TWO
Luke Skywalker sank into a chair in his study, ran his hand across his brow, and stared out at the night, or what passed for it on Coruscant, the hundred shades of nightglow, shimmering lanes of aircars and transports, bright-studded skyhook tethers lancing toward the unseeable stars. How many thousands of years had passed since anyone had seen a star in the night sky of this city world?
On Tatooine the stars had been hard, glittering promises to a boy who wanted more from life than to be a moisture farmer. They had been everything, and yearning toward them was the seed of everything Luke had become. Now, at the heart of the galaxy he had fought so long to save, he couldn’t even see them.
Something drifted in the Force, an embrace waiting to happen. Waiting for permission to happen.
“Come in, Mara,” he said, rising.
“Stay there,” his wife answered. “I’ll join you.”
She settled into the chair next to him and took his hand. He felt her touch move closer, and found himself flinching away.
“Hey, Skywalker,” she said. “It’s not like I’m here to kill you.”
“That’s a comforting thing to say.”
“Yeah?” Her voice took on an edge. “Don’t think it hasn’t occurred to me. Like when I couldn’t hold down breakfast, or when I take one of these twenty-minute lightspeed tours of every emotion I’ve ever had plus a few that I never knew really existed—and then start over. When my ankles start ballooning up like a Gamorrean boar’s and I’m well on my way to Hutthood, I’d advise any responsible parties to start watching their backs.”
“Hey, wait a minute. I don’t recall the two of us conspiring in this matter. I was just as surprised as you. Besides, your last plan to kill me started this whole thing, pregnancy included. Keep it up, and we’ll be ahead of Han and Leia in no time.”
Mara clucked. “Darling,” she said in disingenuous tones. “I love you, you are my life and my light. If you ever do this to me again, I will vape you where you stand.” She squeezed his hand fondly.
“As I was saying,” Luke said. “How can I please you, sweetheart?”
“Tell me what’s wrong.”
He shrugged and turned his face back to the cityscape. “The Jedi, of course. We’re breaking apart. First the galaxy turns against us, then we turn against each other.”
“It’s too bad I didn’t take care of Kyp years ago,” Mara said.
“Don’t even joke about that. And it isn’t Kyp’s fault—ultimately it’s mine. You explained as much to me once, remember?”
“I remember setting you straight about a few things. That doesn’t make Kyp right now.”
“No, he isn’t right. But when children stray, doesn’t that say something about the parents?”
“This is a fine time to tell me you’re going to be a lousy father. Or maybe you don’t think I’ll be a good mother?”
She was joking, but he felt a sudden wave of fear, depression, and anger from his wife.
“Mara?” he asked. “It was just a metaphor.”
“I know. It’s nothing. Just go on.”
“It’s not nothing.”
“It is nothing. Hormones. Mood swings. Very annoying, being jerked around by chemicals, and not your problem, Skywalker. Go on with what you were saying. Sans the parenthood metaphor.”
“Fine. What I mean is, my teachings weren’t durable enough, or strong enough, or satisfying enough, if the others look to Kyp for their answers.”
“We’ve been betrayed and we’re being slaughtered,” Mara said. “Kyp’s given them an answer to that. You haven’t.”
“Wait. Now you agree with Kyp?”
“I agree we can’t just sit and wait. I know you don’t want to do that either, but you aren’t expressing it well enough. Kyp has given the Jedi a vision, as clear and simple as it is wrong. All we’ve done is give a muddy jumble of assurances and prohibitions. We need to tell them what to do, not what not to do.”
“We?”
“Of course we, Skywalker. You and me. Where you go I go.”
Her Force presence kissed lightly against his again, and for an instant he trembled. It felt good, a warmth against the cold hard nest of his doubts and pain. How could he afford to doubt? How could he let anyone else see it, when it might mean the end of everything?
The touch eased, as if retreating, and he relaxed, and it came again, stealthier and stronger. He gave up, opening himself to her so they mingled in a bright stream. He took her in his arms and let her stroke away the worst of his doubts with her hand and the radiance within her.
“I love you, Mara,” he breathed, after a time.
“I love you, too,” she replied.
“It’s hard to watch it all fall apart.”
“It’s not falling apart, Luke. You have to believe that.”
“I have to be strong for them. I have to be an example. But today—”
“Yes, I saw it. You had a moment of weakness. I think I’m the only one who noticed.”
“No. Anakin noticed. It upset him, a lot.”
“You’re worried about Anakin?” she asked, picking up on the subtext of his spoken word. “He adores you. If there is someone he’s always wanted to be, it’s you. He wouldn’t side with Kyp.”
“That’s not my worry. He’s more like Kyp than he thinks, but he doesn’t see it. He’s been through so much, Mara, and he’s too young to easily absorb what he’s had to deal with. He still carries the blame for Chewbacca’s death with him, and in the back of his mind part of him still thinks Han blames him, too. He watched Daeshara’cor die. He blames himself for the destruction of the Hapan fleet at Fondor. He’s carrying around all that pain, and some day that’s bound to add up to something he’s not experienced enough to handle. G
rief and guilt are only a micron away from anger and hatred. And he’s still reckless, still thinks he’s immortal despite all of the death he’s seen.”
“That’s what upset him about your weakness today,” Mara guessed. “He thinks you’re immortal, too.”
“He did believe that. But now he knows if he can lose Chewie, he can lose anyone. That’s not making things better. He’s losing faith in everything he’s counted on his whole life.”
“I didn’t have exactly a normal childhood,” Mara said, “but doesn’t that happen to most children at a certain point?”
“Yes. But most children aren’t Jedi adepts. Most children aren’t as strong in the Force as Anakin, or as inclined to use it. Did you know when he was a boy, he once killed a giant snake by stopping its heart with the Force?”
Mara blinked. “No.”
“Yes. He was defending himself and his friends. It probably seemed like the only thing to do at the time.”
“Anakin is a pragmatic lad.”
“That’s the problem,” Luke sighed. “He grew up around Jedi. Using the Force is like breathing for him, and for Anakin there is nothing very mystical about it. It’s a tool he can do things with.”
“Jacen on the other hand—”
“Jacen is older, but he grew up like Anakin. It’s two different reactions to the same situation. What they have in common is that neither of them thinks I really have it right. And what’s worse, I think at least one of them is correct. I’ve seen—” He broke off.
“What?” Mara gently urged.
“I don’t know. I’ve seen a future. Several futures. However this ends with the Yuuzhan Vong, it won’t be me that ends it, or Kyp, or any of the older Jedi. It will be someone new.”
“Anakin?”
“I don’t know. I’m afraid to even talk about it. Every word spreads, puts ripples in the Force for every person who hears it, changes things. I’m starting to know how Yoda and Ben felt. Watching, trying to guide, hoping I’m not wrong, that I’m seeing clearly, that there is such a thing as wisdom and that I’m not just fooling myself.”
She laughed softly and kissed his cheek. “You worry too much.”