Mara nodded. “It will cause unrest. There is a lot of unrest in life. The Force is created by life, so it has unrest in it. If you open yourself to the Force, how can you not open yourself to a certain amount of unrest?”
Ben gave his parents a suspicious stare. It wasn’t a look of mistrust, just the expression of a teenager anxious not to be tricked. “Whose side are you really on?”
Luke snorted. “The Jedi order protects and serves the Galactic Alliance, just as it did the New Republic. Just as the old order protected and served the Old Republic. But we choose to maintain a certain amount of latitude in interpreting our missions, our orders. For the good of everybody. And that means if we’re ordered into battle, but we discover we can achieve a victory through negotiation or a bloodless show of force, we do it. If we discover that we can bring peace by obliging the opposing sides to listen to each other, we do it-even if one side is supposed to be in charge of what we do.”
Ben returned his attention to the starfield for a moment. “I hear kids say they hate it when their parents say Do this because I say so. Sometimes I think they have it easy.”
Mara laughed softly and reached out to brush her hand across her son’s fine red hair. “I suspect they do. Of course, they don’t get to run all over the galaxy and practice with live lightsabers.”
“Yeah, I guess. But thinking is hard. And kind of unfair. There never seems to be a right answer.”
Luke felt his lump return, but this time he knew it was caused by pride, not pain. “That’s it,” he said. “There never seems to be a right answer is a right answer.”
“Oh.”
“Watch out for people who tell you they know the right answer,” Mara added. “They may think they do, but often they’re wrong. Or they may just know that thinking is so hard, many people don’t want to do it. They want a leader they can trust … so they don’t have to do the hard work of thinking. That’s one type of leader you don’t want to follow.”
Ben opened his mouth as if to ask another question, then closed it again.
“You’re right,” Luke said. “If you asked whether you should tell Han and Leia about the Anakin Solo droid, we’d just have to say we don’t know.”
Ben looked up at him. “Sometimes you hate being a Jedi, don’t you?”
Luke thought about it, then nodded. “Occasionally.”
“Me, too.”
Within an hour, all members of the three parties had departed-all but Jaina, Zekk, Jacen, and Ben, who waited behind to begin their investigations from this habitat. They waved at the departing corvettes and transports from the viewport in what had been Han and Leia’s suite.
When the last of the departing ships was gone, Jacen turned to the others. “First,” he said, “sleep. Then we get under way.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
CORONET, CORELLIA
TAKING TWO OF THE MOST FAMOUS PEOPLE IN THE GALAXY AND smuggling them onto a highly developed, security-conscious world was actually quite simple. Luke knew it would be, at least once, and so didn’t bother consulting any of the many Intelligence friends and allies he had-beyond arranging for identicards for himself and Mara.
Now he stood in a crowded line at a crowded security station in the crowded Corellian city of Coronet and stared, smiling, down at the unamused, weathered face of an officer of CorSec, the system police.
The man squinted up at him. “Luke Skywalker,” he said.
Luke nodded, his smile broadening.
“I really don’t see it.”
“Oh, come on.” Mara stepped forward, voice raised in Luke’s defense. “He looks just like him.”
“Too short,” the CorSec officer said. “No one would believe in a Luke Skywalker that short.”
Luke let a slightly whim, note creep into his voice. “I can do back-flips just like him.”
“I’m sure you can.” The CorSec officer waved Luke’s falsified identicard under the needle-like point of a data transmitter. A pinpoint light on the identicard switched from red to green, signifying that the visitor’s Visa for Emerek Tovall, actor-impersonator from Fondor, was approved. He was now free to enter Coronet and conduct lawful business of all varieties.
“Would you like an autograph?” Luke asked.
“No, thank you. Move along.” The disinterested officer took Mara’s identicard next.
Three places up in line, a couple who bore a remarkable resemblance to Han Solo and Leia Organa-as they had looked decades before, at the time of the Battle of Yavin, down to Leia’s white Senatorial dress and side-bun hairstyle-waited patiently at another station. The CorSec woman there looked skeptically at the screen in front of her and asked, “Jiyam Solo?”