Part 43 (1/2)

”Ah.”

”I do a job right, or I don't do it at all.”

She understood. ”Ah.”

Daala was as hard as a Hutt's heart on payday; she hadn't made Imperial admiral in a male-dominated navy by weep-ing into her handkerchief. But something had cracked that beskar deck plating of hers, and her gaze flickered for a moment.

”That's a long time to devote to... perfectionism.”

”Saves me trouble I don't get paid to handle.”

”And trouble that you can't ever buy again.”

”Thanks for reminding me.”

”Perfection isn't all it's cracked up to be, Fett. Sometimes good enough is all you need. No point surviving if you don't live.”

Fifty-two years alone. Not what I'd planned, but it could have been fifty-two years of misery with bad company. I know which hurts less.

”That thing's not your face, actually.” Daala stopped a fraction short of actually touching his jaw, but he thought she was going to jerk his face toward the mirrored panel and make him look at himself like some gawky, self-conscious adolescent being told he was fine just the way he was. ”And that's not your father's face, either.”

Fett had never flinched from his reflection-not out of sore conscience, or insecurity, or because it was also Jango Fett's face. He had always been able meet the gaze flung back at him-until today. Koa Ne's smug, sterile, Ka-minoan judgment wormed into his brain: But what use is your wealth to you now? Maybe Daala was right. He was already dead, and beating his tumors had only given him more years to contemplate just how very dead he was.

”You're right. It's mine.” Fett looked at the reflection again, and survived seeing time ignoring his plea to stop, just like he'd ignored the pleas of so many targets. ”And are you another one who thinks it's unfair I got a blessing I couldn't use, like Jaina Solo does?”

”I got my second chance with Liegeus. I grabbed it.”

”But Liegeus never stopped loving you.”

”I didn't make him stop, either.”

Daala stood at the Oyu'baat's doors, hands in her pock-ets, and looked up at the cloudless sky. ”Lovely day. I need my exercise. I'm cooped up on a s.h.i.+p most days.” She held out her hand to him, palm down, as if telling a dawdling kid to hang on to her and not get lost in the crowd. ”Com-ing?”

Fett clipped his helmet onto his belt, feeling it tapping against the small of his back as he moved. It was a strange sensation, like someone trying to get his attention. ”Ready when you are, Admiral.”

”It's Natasi, ”she said. ”Natasi Daala. A good old Re-natasian name.”

Keldabe had seen him without the helmet often enough now. n.o.body would turn a hair, not about the helmet-and not about Admiral Daala.

BRALSIN, MANDALORE: NEXT DAY.

”I knew you couldn't leave it alone, ”said Gotab.

It was early evening, and a haze was settling over the Ke-lita valley in the distance. Jaina helped the old man sit down on a smooth-worn outcrop of pale gray granite. Close-cropped gra.s.s ringed by stones large enough to sit on lent the spot the air of a small arena. Gotab laid his helmet down and shut his eyes, facing into the breeze as if to savor it on his face.

”I need guidance, ”Jaina said.

”Fett's still too busy.... discussing vital commercial is-sues with Admiral Daala, then.”

”It's not Fett's experience I need. It's yours.” What she said next would either shape the galaxy's future, or make Gotab walk off in disgust. ”I need to hear this from a Jedi.”

”Former Jedi. You've got the whole Jedi Council to ask, Jaina. I bet they answer your comm right away.”

”Maybe, but none of them have seen the galaxy from both sides. I haven't ever spoken to a Jedi who walked away from the Order but who wasn't a Sith.”

”I didn't just walk away from the Order-I didn't exer-cise Right of Denial. I stopped being a Jedi.” Gotab laughed. ”I know the dark side, too. I lived alongside it for too many years, and I can't say that it was always a bad thing. But you're right, I'm no Sith. I'm just a man.”

”Do you think of yourself as Gotab?” Jaina looked over her shoulder, knowing Venku was around somewhere.

”In a way. It just means engineer. I was always good at fixing things. And people.” He took out his lightsaber and held the hilt in his palm, hefting it. ”My name used to be Bardan Jusik, but I stopped using my second name in case it got me killed after the Purge. In private, to everyone who matters to me, I'm just Bard'ika.”

”Do you have a family?”

”Yes. But I know what you're really asking. Did I father more little Mandalorian Force-users, and train them as some kind of armored Jedi? No. I had plenty of adopted sons to look after-and daughters. My wife, may she find rest in the manda, thought it was for the best.”

”You could have had children via a donor. Clinics can do clever things.”

”Mando'ade adopt. I chose the finest family a man could have. Why would we have wanted to conceive a child by donor?”

Gotab-Bard'ika-hadn't struggled to his feet to storm off, nor had he rounded on her. His impression in the Force was relaxed and a little sad, in a bittersweet kind of way that Jaina envied; it was as if he was looking back on a sub-stantially happy life that had nevertheless had its moments of grief. She was trying hard to stay detached from emotions at the moment, because if she felt the good things in life-and there still seemed to be many-then she also felt the pain that reminded her that Mara was dead, that Jacen was responsible, and that Jaina had sworn to deal with the problem. Things were fine as long as she held those events at bay, and stared at them as if they were a disturbing holovid. The moment she let them slip past her guard and merge with reality, they were almost too agonizing to bear. ”I've got a terrible choice to make, ”she said. ”I have to stop my brother. I think I'm the only one who can. Mirta Gev, of all people, begged me to think twice about killing him and to leave him to someone else. There is no one else.” ”Not even Master Luke Skywalker?

My, my. So this one's bigger than Palpatine, is he?”

”You sound very bitter about the Order, sir.” ”I might be ancient, but I'm not an officer. Bard'ika, please.” Flying creatures that Jaina couldn't identify wheeled and jinked high in the dusk sky like fighter craft; Gotab watched them in silence for a moment. ”The Order has long been about justifying its own existence, about ac-quiring and holding power, and from what I see now, nothing much has changed since my day. I know what I swore to do as a Jedi, and it didn't have anything to do with turning a blind eye to social evils because the Sith were a bigger evil.

But every act of evil we commit creates an environ-ment where the Sith can exist. So Jedi who cut corners-a Jedi Order that cuts corners-forfeit their right to hold the moral high ground. Yes, I'm bitter. That's why I stopped being a Jedi and just became someone who had Force skills and wanted to do no harm. I've killed-and not regretted it. I've never wrung my hands while whining about my conscience. So if you genuinely want my advice-well, to hear my view, because that's all it is-then, Jaina Solo, we talk purely as individuals who can use the Force. I won't help the Jedi Order.”

Jaina was still aware of Venku wandering around the hill, keeping an eye on the two of them. She couldn't see him. But he was there.

”This is about me and Jacen, ”she said at last. ”And you could have stopped him, any of you, if you'd united against him. One Sith can't stand against hundreds of Jedi. Your problem is that he's your own flesh and blood, and none of you have had the courage to do the job. You've been hoping that he'll see the light and stop so that you don't have to do the dirty work. How many ordinary beings have died while you made excuses for him because he's family?”

”I know. Okay, I know.” Jaina's gut twisted with guilt again. Yes, if Jacen had been any other Sith with Jacen's track record, she'd have cut him down without a second thought. Had anyone tried to redeem Palpatine, or that ap-prentice of his on Naboo? No. But Vader.... Vader had turned out to be family. Uncle Luke had bothered to look for the good in him. ”You're going to give me the speech about no attachment, aren't you?”

Gotab turned to face her and smiled. The light was failing. He still seemed to have a luminosity about him, the sweetness of great age, despite the harshness of his words. ”Attachment-and you inevitably use your powers to serve your own family, or in your case.... you fail to use them, ”he said. ”Avoid attachment-and you become an enactor of ritual, a sterile creature unable to truly understand love and sacrifice. There's no easy answer for a Force-user except rigid self-control, and I do not mean avoiding the dark side. I mean not using the Force at all.” ”That's not going to help anyone stop Jacen becoming a galactic tyrant.”

”Lovely job t.i.tle, that. Galactic Tyrant wanted-apply within.”

”You're mocking me.” ”You want to know what I would do in your position.”

”Yes.”

”I'd kill him, out of love.”

The reply shocked Jaina because she felt it. He meant it. He wasn't serene; he was full of swirling pa.s.sions, with hints of darkness in there somewhere, but he'd loved deeply, and still did. It was vivid within him.

”I can't avoid this, can I?” she said. ”It's a lot more common than you think. People kill the one they love all the time. The motive can be anything, but in the end... you end the life you would've done anything to preserve, and then.... then, you go on living. You can kill out of jealousy, pa.s.sion, revenge, mercy, duty, justice, greed, carelessness.

How many people have you killed in combat? In war? More than one, I'll bet. You didn't love those people, but they're no less dead, so the only difference is how you square it with your conscience each day. We're talking about selfishness here-how will I feel? How will Jaina feel?”