Legacy Of The Force_ Revelation Part 7

ANAKIN SOLO, GANDEAL-FONDOR HYPERLANE.

"Teb..."

No, she's gone.

It was the second time that morning that Darth Caedus had turned to Lieutenant Tebut for a sitrep and remembered she was dead, which left him unsettled for reasons he had to stop and ponder. Captain Shevu gave him an odd glance when he turned to the station that Tebut had normally occupied on the bridge, but said nothing. Caedus wandered across to the viewscreen to look out at distorted time and s.p.a.ce, a respite while he grappled with his lapses. Tahiti, playing the part of a junior officer perfectly, stayed at her station with her hands clasped behind her back.

Had he genuinely forgotten that he'd killed Tebut? Or was this all part of... grieving? He'd lost count of the times he'd marked a pa.s.sage in a holozine for his brother Anakin, or seen something funny that he just had to tell him, or any one of a dozen things that crashed painfully when he remembered in the next instant that Anakin was dead. Caedus could remember how terrible that was; and yet he could flow-walk back to Anakin's death and not suffer that again.

He didn't understand why, and that bothered him. He Was supposed to be past those petty personal concerns now. Perhaps this was the way it was for Sith of his status; perhaps he needed the ability to switch off and do what was necessary, however distressing, and yet not lose the pa.s.sions and sorrows that gave Sith strength. If he could take terrible decisions and never feel their enormity, then he would be no better than a droid. Flesh and blood needed the protective rule of someone who understood their pain.

So... he worked through things carefully, and he always found his answer... he was spared that for the time he needed the clarity to take hard decisions, and yet he still had to suffer the reality later, when it was safe to do so. If he forgot what pain and fear were, then he would also forget his duty to the trillions of beings who would look to him to stop their suffering.

This uneasiness about Tebut was a price, then, not a failing. A reminder from the Force of what it meant to be flesh and blood, and whom he served. It made sense. He felt rea.s.sured.

"Dropping out of hypers.p.a.ce in five standard minutes, sir, "said the officer of the watch.

"Very good." Caedus tore his gaze from the transparisteel and strode back to his bridge position. "So, Tahiri, we'll see Fondor shortly." She was in blue uniform, no badges of rank, and proper black fleet-issue boots, the ones with durasteel-hardened toe caps for safety.

Tahiri hated shoes, but a warship was a dangerous place to go barefoot.

It also looked sloppy and ill disciplined. "This is the next dissident planet we take back."

"Not today, though, "she said. "We're doing reconnaissance."

A recce wasn't needed, given the intelligence Caedus had on Fondor.

Less than a standard year earlier, it had been a Galactic Alliance member state, and so its defensive capability and industrial output were a matter of record; worlds didn't change into unknown quant.i.ties that fast.

But Cae-dus was still baffled by Fondor's decision to secede from the GA, an act he saw as inexplicably treacherous. The planet's yards had thrived on the custom of Coruscant-based regimes for decades, and this very hypers.p.a.ce lane was testimony to the volume of hulls that had been transported from the orbitals here to the galactic capital.

"No, "said Caedus. "We're showing Fondor how easy it is to get at them. A speeder bus ride, practically."

"Don't they know that?"

"We often ignore the obvious. And this is partly education for you."

Tallin's eyes flickered a little. "In which discipline?"

"Decision making."

The task of sweet-talking Pellaeon into listening to Cae-dus's offer was something any intelligent, personable woman could do. But Caedus needed Tahiri to be more than that, and he needed her to grow so that she wasn't performing like a circus rancor simply for tidbits of time spent flow-walking back to watch Anakin. The lure of his dead brother had been a legitimate way to get her interest, even if it was a tacky and rather cruel trick; the weight of duty to the dark side meant that very few would embrace it head-on without some self-gratification to hold them in its thrall while they learned the truth. It was a superficial means to a n.o.bler end.

Now he needed Tahiri to understand the gravity of Sith service if she was to fill the gap left by Ben Skywalker as his apprentice. And, as Ben had been blooded by the task of a.s.sa.s.sinating Dur Gejjen, so Tahiri needed to comprehend the gravity of her role, and move beyond romantic fantasies that could never happen.

Anakin was dead, and he wasn't coming back. The kind-est thing Caedus could do-would do, one day soon-would be to force Tahiri to face up to that and live for the future.

"Okay, "she said. Her lips moved uncertainly. "I mean, very good, sir."

Tahiri obviously wanted to do well. Caedus watched the viewport, not the view fed from exterior cams to the monitors, as the slightly misshapen disk of Fondor resolved into a sharp-edged planet ringed by orbital shipyards like a swarm of tiny moons.

"Take us in as close as you can, Helm, "he said.

"Very good, sir." There was no hesitation, query, or even the hint in the Force of any doubt about his wisdom. The Star Destroyer moved from open s.p.a.ce into the invisible but fiercely defended borders of Fondor sovereign territory.

Caedus had neither rehea.r.s.ed this nor warned the bridge crew. By now the early warning beacons had picked up the Anakin Solo's approach, and the ship's long-range sensors showed that Fondorian fighters were scrambling. Soon there would be a concerted attack on the ship, and he was counting on that. He wanted to test Tahiri's nerve and commitment.

"Weapons officer, "he said, "when you acquire a target, do not fire. I repeat, do not fire. Shields and defensive systems-offline."

n.o.body said a word, except Tahiri.

"Is this some special tactic?" she asked. "A feint?"

"No, I'm leaving the ship wide open to attack."

"But..."

"The weapons officer will give you firing solutions. You don't have to do any calculations. You only have to decide whether or not to open fire."

Caedus could see Shevu unclasp his hands from behind his back to fold his arms, but that was all. There wasn't the sense of nervousness around the bridge that might have been expected. The crew, as always, had faith in Caedus to deal with any situation. But Tahiri was rattled; she couldn't sense Caedus's intentions-he remained shut down in the Force as a matter of course now, emanating nothing to other Force-users-and now she could see the flight of Fondorian a.s.sault fighters streaming out to intercept them. She had never had control of a warship.

"That's easy enough, "she said, not sounding convinced. He could feel her probing, groping around in the Force for hidden meaning, concealed traps. "If someone's working out the firing solutions."

"Are the fighters a threat to us, Tahiri?"

She was having doubts now. He'd sown uncertainty in her mind simply by asking an apparently obvious question.

"Possibly."

"How will you know?"

"When they power up their weapons."

"We have weapons online. Are we a threat to them or just ready to deal with an attack? What are your rules of engagement? What if they don't fire?"

To her credit, Tahiri seemed to be thinking logically. The fighters were closing in. Bridge crew began shifting in their seats now, a little uneasy.

"Quickly, Tahiri. You only have seconds. A second is all it takes for a missile to penetrate the hull, vent a whole compartment, kill hundreds of our comrades..."

Caedus knew the Fondorian pilots would detect charged, targeted, locked-on cannon and yet no defenses. They'd think it was a trap. They'd hesitate, a.s.sess the target, wonder what they'd missed...

In range.

"They've powered up but not acquired us, sir, "said the weapons officer.

"Tahiri..."

"Fire!" she said. "Take, take, take."

Cannon fire stabbed into the flight of fighters, streams of it taking out all six of them in sudden silent blooms of white light. Naval and air engagements were always impersonal, Caedus thought, machine on machine, not at all like the urgency of facing an enemy in a trench or street and seeing a face. It took awhile to sink in at first.

"Reactivate defenses and lay in a course for Coruscant, "said Caedus.

The Star Destroyer came alive with the lights and sounds of preparation for the hypers.p.a.ce jump back to the Core. Tahiri was still staring at the viewport.

"Now... was that the right decision?"

"You tell me, "he said.

"I neutralized the threat."

"Or you fired on vessels that hadn't targeted you, and made widows and orphans for no good reason. Which do you think you did?"

"It's a war..."

"Wars have rules."

"You told me to fire."

"I told you that you could fire." Caedus could see the crew trying to pretend the dissection wasn't taking place in front of them. They were all suddenly blind and deaf. "The decision was yours."

"Is that what this is all for? You brought the ship here just for a few minutes to see if I could give a command to fire?"

"Yes."

"And put the ship at risk? And kill pilots?"

"It's what we do. How do you feel about that? Do you think about the living beings in those fighters, or do you think about us in this ship, and can you ever be sure you took the only reasonable path open to you? I can't answer that. To become my apprentice, you have to be able to answer that in your own mind and live with the answer. You killed today.

It should never feel easy or distant like some holovid game. If it does, or it doesn't trouble you later at some time, then you're not up to the responsibility."

Tahiri stood silent and wide-eyed. She looked as if she was seriously considering the implications. Like him, she'd learned from her time among the Yuuzhan Vong: She knew that there was nothing like blood on your hands to make you grow up and understand all the things you had to sacrifice for duty. Caedus retired to his day cabin and sat reading the previous day's intelligence reports on the journey home.

When he was still Jacen Solo, Caedus had been warned that command-rule-was lonely, but now he knew what Tenel Ka had meant when she told him it was the price of being a leader.

He was utterly alone now, rejected even by his daughter, Allana.

That.... that was my sacrifice.

He had convinced himself it was Mara Skywalker. Then he had convinced himself it was Ben's adulation he'd sacrificed by killing her.

Now he knew that whatever the ancient Sith ta.s.sels had prophesied in their arcane language of knots and colors, his sacrifice was an ordinary man's precious connection to other beings-love, trust, and intimacy. He could never recover any of it. Allana was gone from him forever. His only comfort was that the galaxy would be safer for her.

Lumiya had said the cost would be high. But this was the price of order and justice. This was the price of stability, and his was just one life out of many, a price he considered worth paying however much it hurt. Tahiri would discover that, too, and she had just taken her first step on that path, a small gray area of right or wrong to most beings, but one that a Sith apprentice had to be able to handle.

This is duty.

There was a bleep at the cabin door: Shevu. Caedus felt the man coming down the pa.s.sage, heralded by a sense of wariness and.... distaste in the Force. Shevu was a former police officer, a Coruscant Security Force man, and he brought his culture with him. He didn't like Caedus and he didn't approve of his methods; that was as clear as day. But Caedus trusted him precisely because it was clear even to a non-Force-sensitive.

A man who didn't try to hide his feel-ings but did the job well anyway gave Caedus nothing to fear.

This is duty, too. Shevu understands what must be done.

"Sir, shall I leave these reports on your desk, or would you prefer to discuss them?" Shevu said.

"Leave them." Whether the man liked him or not, there was nothing to be gained by alienating him further. He was very good at his job. "You look tired."

"Sleepless nights, sir."

Shevu was being brutally honest. Caedus could sense that: a little anger, a little fear, something worrying him, a yearning to see someone he cared for. Distractions like that could become corrosive.

"Problems?"

"Family stuff, sir."

"You have a girlfriend, yes?"

"Not any longer, sir."

"Ah." Yes, Caedus understood abandonment by those who claimed to love and understand him. "I'm sorry. Isn't it time you had a few days off?"

"I haven't taken any leave, sir."

"Burning out isn't being a good officer, Shevu. I need you sharp.

Take seventy-two hours and come back refreshed. I can't do anything about the lady, other than say that I understand the toll that duty takes on relationships."

Shevu's surprise was palpable. "Thank you, sir." His mood felt as if it had lifted a little. "Most generous."

Caedus watched the doors close behind him and was rea.s.sured that he hadn't turned into a monster, whatever Ben Skywalker might have thought.

Different situations required different incentives, and Shevu-Shevu couldn't be scared into compliance, or he would have been no good at an intelligence-based, dangerous job. He couldn't be cajoled, for the same reasons. He had to be treated with hon-est respect.

The man was as straight as a die. There were few like that, and worth the keeping.

KELDABE. MANDALORE.

Jaina dropped out of hypers.p.a.ce in the X-wing and hoped that making herself slow and obvious would prevent a mis-understanding about her intentions in a Galactic Alliance fighter.

I must be out of my mind. I should have contacted Fett in advance.

But if he'd said no... then I'd still be here. And I'd be in worse trouble. And it's always harder to turn someone away when they show up in person. And Fett re-spects physical courage. And....

And she was a Jedi entering Mandalorian s.p.a.ce. That was all there was to it. But she had to get past the gate-keeper to get to Fett to win him over with her straight talking, and this was no time to lose her nerve.