Part 4 (1/2)

It would be wonderful to have some peace and quiet.

Brilliant move tonight, Jaina,” said Jacen as he got into his bed and pulled the covers up.

”I didn't mean to do it”, Jaina replied as she got into her own bed on the other side of the room. ”Room, lightsto-sleep mode,” she said.

The lights lowered, with the only illumination coming from the dim night-light in Anakin's adjoining alcove. The three children could have had their own rooms, of course, and had even tried that arrangement at times, but had soon discovered they were too used to being together. The present aarangement of one big shared room, with Anakin just slightly off to one side, suited everyone best. Besides, they were going to be a bit crowded on the Falcon. They might as well get used to it.

Neither of them spoke, and the roon WaS quiet for a moment. The twins could hear Anakin's gentle, rhythimic breathing. Their little brother was already asleep.

Jacen found himself in a thoughtful mood as he stared up at the darkened ceiling. ”Aren't you being kind of easy on yourself?”

”What do you mean?” Jaina asked.

”You didn't mean it, so it doesn't count,” he said. ”It's not what you mean to do that matters. It's what you actually do.” That sounded a little preachy, especially considering that he had been tempted to use the didn't-mean-it defense himself a couple of hours before. But it seemed to Jacen that being tempted and not doing whatever it was counted for something. ”Anyway, you did mean to cause trouble, and you know it.”.

”Now you're starting to sound like Uncle Luke,” Jaina said.

”I could do worse,” Jacen said, noting that his sister hadn't denied the charge of deliberate troublemaking. ”Uncle Luke is pretty smart. But if it's any help, I don't think it was all your, fault tonight. They were already upset before we came in.

”Yeah,” Jaina agreed. ”They were all worked up over something.”

”And everyone was making believe there was nothing going on,” Jacen said.

”Including us,” Jaina pointed out. ”We didn't say anything either, and we could tell. The only one who wasn't pretending was Anakin.

”Don't forget, he let Uncle Luke think he didn't have anything to do with the droid,” Jaina said. ”He's the best actor of all of us. We knew Anakin was the one that built the droid, and we still couldn't tell if he was pretending with Uncle Luke. Maybe Anakin was putting us on, or maybe he didn't even know what he did.”

”I hadn't thought of that,” Jacen said. But Anakin was an old, familiar mystery. They were used to the fact that he was incomprehensible. ”So what do you think is wrong?” Jacen asked as he sed up into the cool, quiet dark. ”With the grown-ups, I mean.”

”No idea,” Jaina said. Her sheets rustled as she turned over on her side. ”But my guess is that Dad knows something he doesn't want to tell Mom or Uncle Luke.”

Jacen turned toward her as well and propped his head up on his hand. He could just make her out in the dim light.

She was facing him, mirroring his own pose. ”Do you think it's a real big deal?” he asked her. ”Or just some dumb politics thing that doesn't really matter?”

”I don't know. But whatever it is has something to do with us. Mom and Dad never act that weird unless they're worried about us three little darlings.”

”That's for sure,” Jacen agreed. ”They sure do worry.”

Jaina chuckled softly as she turned over on her other side to go to sleep. ”Come on, Jacen,” she said, her voice a bit m.u.f.fled by the pillow. ”If you were our parents, wouldn't you worry?”

Jacen rolled back onto his back and stared at the ceiling.

He had to admit that she had a point.

CHAPTER FOUR.

The Dangers of Peace In deep s.p.a.ce, far from any inhabited system, a small, solitary star hung in the firmament. It had no name, but only a code number, a string of digits to identify it on the celestial charts. Star Number TD-10036-EM- 1271 had no planets to speak of, only a few debris belts that had never coalesced into worlds of any size. It had no resources that were not available someplace else, and was not of any particular aesthetic or scientific importance. In short, there was no good reason for anyone to bother with it-and no one did.

There were quite literally billions of stars like it in the galaxy, and it was of a size and age and type as well understood as any. Any astrophysicist worth his or her or its salt anywhere in the New Republic would have been able to make several very basic measurements of that star, and report back immediately on its age, the course of its development, and the pattern of its future evolution.

And all of the astrophysicists would have been wrong.

Many light-years away, hidden deep in the Corellian System, a secret team of technicians and researchers was seeing to that. They had been working for a long time, but soon their efforts would bear fruit.

Soon the energies of their machines would reach across the stars.

Soon they would change everything.

Luke drew himself up and took a deep breath before he pressed the door annunciator at Mon Mothma's quarters.

He had learned to respect many beings in the galaxy over the years, but Mon Mothma held a special place in his esteem. Perhaps it was because of her seeming ordinariness, her quiet, backstage approach to things.

Pwple who had not been paying attention might easily think that she had played, at best, a rather minor role in recent galactic history. She had commanded no fleets, fought no battles. She had no strange powers, or mysterious past, or remarkable talent.

She was nothing more, and nothing less, than a brave, intelligent, ordinary human being, a human being who had pressed and prodded the Rebel Alliance into being. More than any other single person, she had created the New Republic itself.

If that did not rate respect, even from a Jedi master, Luke did not know what did. He pressed the annunciator and the door slid silently open. Mon Mothma stood just inside the entrance. She nodded to him and smiled. ”Greetings, Jedi Master. Welcome to my home. Please come in.”

”Thank you, ma'am,” Luke said. It seemed to him that ”ma'am”

wasn't much of a way to address a person of such importance, but Mon Mothma had never been much for t.i.tles or honorifics.

Luke stepped inside, and looked about with interest. He had, of course, known Mon Mothma for years, but he had been in her home only a handful of times.

Mon Mothma's current quarters resembled the woman herselfuiet, una.s.suming, yet with an air of steady confidence. There was little furniture, but every piece was finely crafted, graceful and yet st.u.r.dy, everything perfectly matched to everything else, in muted shades of ivory and white. The room gave the appearance of being larger than it actually was. No doubt ikat was at least in part an effect of simple contrast.

Most homes of the high-ranking families of Coruscant were cluttered with bric-a-brac, gaudy souvenirs and collectibles from every world of the New Republic.

It was something of a relief to find a home that did not resemble a crowded and badly organized museum.

”I am pleased you could come and visit me, Jedi Master,” Mon Mothma said.

Why in s.p.a.ce was she, of all people, addressing him by his most formal t.i.tle? ”I am pleased to come,” Luke replied.

”I am glad,” Mon Mothma said. ”Please take a seat.”

Luke sat down in a severe-looking stiff-backed chair, and was surprised to find that it was much more comfortable than it looked. He did not speak. His host was capable of speaking her mind without prompting from him.

Mon Mothma took a seat opposite Luke and looked at him with an appraising eye. ”Tell me of your current circ.u.mstances, Jedi Master.”

Luke was taken aback by the question. Then he realized it was no question at all, but a command. After all, why should she ask when she knew the answer as well as he did? She was the former chief of state.

She had access to all sorts of information, and had always followed Luke's career with particular interest. ”Well, ma'am, as you know, the Jedi academy is now well established. I still visit from time to time there, but the students are progressing well and the first cla.s.s has reached the point where they should be learning on their own, and, indeed, some now spend as much time teaching the second and third cla.s.s as they do learning.