[Dark Nest] - 3(62)

Luke cried out in disbelief, and the Force grew heavy with grief and outrage. Even Jacen-whose time among the Yuuzhan Vong had taught him never to be surprised by the brutality one being could inflict on another-felt his stomach turn at the sight of his grandfather using the Force to choke the woman he supposedly loved.

An ominous but barely audible whine arose somewhere inside R2-D2. The holo began to flicker again, and a familiar voice spoke from outside the holo frame.

“Let her go, Anakin.”

Arm still extended-and Padme still choking-Anakin turned to sneer at the speaker. “What have you and she been up to?”

Obi-Wan Kenobi stepped into view, wearing the sand-colored robes of a Jedi. Though his back was to the camera, his shape and bearded profile were clearly recognizable.

“Let … her … go!”

Anakin whipped his arm to one side, and Padme flew out of the holo.

Anakin started forward to meet Obi-Wan, saying, “You turned her-“

A sharp pop sounded from R2-D2’s interior, and the holo dissolved into static.

Ghent flipped his magnispecs down, then peered through R2-D2’s access panel and cried out as though a blaster bolt had pierced his heart. He lowered his micrograbbers through the opening and clicked something, then retrieved what appeared to the naked eye to be a smoking dust speck.

“I knew this would happen!” the slicer cried. “It’s an omniash now!”

No one answered. Luke was stiff and ashen, fighting back tears. Mara was staring at the spot where Padme’s limp form had vanished from the holo. Jacen was trying to decide where his grandfather had gone wrong, trying to puzzle out what flaw had made him a slave to his temper. Even R2-D2 remained silent, continuing to project a column of holostatic onto the floor.

After a moment, Ghent seemed to realize that the loss of the omnigate was not the most serious one of the day. He laid his hand on Luke’s shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze.

“Well, at least we know it wasn’t Mara who killed your mother.”

“Ghent!” Mara’s eyes looked ready to loose a flight of blaster bolts.

“What’s wrong?” Ghent seemed genuinely confused. “Isn’t that what we were trying to find out?”

“Drop it,” Mara ordered.

Tears were escaping down Luke’s cheeks now, and Jacen could sense him struggling with the anger he felt toward his father. It left a fiery, bitter taste in the Force, all the more powerful because of the forgiveness that Luke had already granted Anakin Skywalker.

Ghent remained entirely unaware of all this history, of course. “But now we know,” he insisted. “It wasn’t Mara!”

Jacen sighed. “Ghent, we really don’t know that,” he explained. “We only saw Anakin throw Padme. We don’t know that my grandmother actually died.”

R2-D2 trilled a series of sad notes.

“You see?” Ghent asked, as though everyone else could understand what the droid was saying, too. “Do you want to see it?”

“See what?” Mara demanded.

“Her death,” Ghent replied. “This is what Artoo has been trying to protect Luke from, but now that the secret is out-“

“No-I’ve seen everything I need to.” Luke rose and wiped his face dry, then added, “We have a battle to prepare for.”

Jacen did not like the hollowness in his uncle’s voice. Luke was retreating from his pain, avoiding that last file because he knew how devastating it would be to watch his mother die. And pain you feared was pain that could be used to control you. Luke was not ready to face Lomi Plo, would not be ready until he accepted the tragedy that had befallen his parents-until he embraced it.

“Are you sure?” Jacen asked. “It couldn’t take long, and who knows when Artoo is going to be this cooperative-“

“I’m sure!” Luke snapped. “Don’t you have some flight checks you should be doing?”

Mara nodded toward the door, but Jacen remained where he was. “This is more important. We need to talk about it.”

Luke sighed, then went over to a briefing chair and sat down. “Okay, Jacen. Let’s hear it.”

Mara cringed, then closed her eyes and touched Jacen in the Force, urging him not to press the matter.

Jacen took a deep breath, then said, “I’m not sure you’re ready to win this fight, Uncle Luke.”

“That’s not your decision to make, Jacen.” Luke’s tone was stern. “But go ahead.”

Jacen did not hesitate. “You haven’t committed yourself yet,” he said. “You’re afraid to look at the last file-“

“I don’t need to look at it,” Luke said. “I know what happened. I knew the instant that I saw my … that we saw Darth Vader raise his hand to my mother.”