[Legacy Of The Force] - 02(26)

“We spent so much time dealing with the Yuuzhan Vong that we lost our focus on threats closer to home,” said G’Sil. “But I’m old enough to remember that when terrorist activity starts, you need to move fast before it spreads and networks get established.”

If they aren’t already. The World Brain tells me they’re on the move, gathering, meeting…

“Let me think about it,” said Mara. But that was just words. Everything else about her was adding, … and then say no.

Luke turned slowly, hands deep in his pockets, and stared out the window, and for a moment Jacen wondered if he was going to volunteer instead. No, that kind of warfare simply wasn’t Uncle Luke: he was head-on, lightsaber in hand, face-to-face with the enemy-the kind of enemy who came at you in open combat.

He was too decent and honest to think like a terrorist. He had rules. It was what made him strong.

“We’ll be going, then, Chief,” said Luke. He bowed his head slightly. “Let’s see how the next few days pan out, and then revisit this.”

He nodded politely to Jacen and left with Mara. She gave Jacen a glance over her shoulder and smiled anxiously. Omas waited for them to leave and then looked at Jacen.

“I can understand everyone’s reluctance,” he said. “It’s not heroic work, spying on your neighbors.”

G’Sil gave a little snort of amusement. “It’s heroic until you’re the person whose ID is being checked, and then it’s an affront to your rights…”

“People are going to have to get used to that again. It won’t be the first time,” Omas said.

Jacen thought now was as good a time as any to ask again. “Have you had further thoughts on the matter I suggested the other day, sir?”

Omas’s mind was clearly elsewhere. “Hitting the shipyards?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll discuss it with Admiral Pellaeon. If he thinks it has merit, I’ll table it with the Defense Council.”

“Thank you.”

Jacen should have gone back to his apartment and used his time to teach Ben more of the subtle techniques of the Force, but he admitted to himself that he was as impatient as his young pupil. He had set Ben a study task to occupy him in his absence: to visit the sites of the bombing and the attack on the Corellian Sanctuary, and to sense what he could of the people and events surrounding them. It was a tough assignment. It would frustrate him-and keep him busy for at least a day.

And Jacen needed a day to himself to resolve his doubts over Lumiya.

She was still in her asteroid habitat near Bimmiel. He felt her there: when he concentrated, he could sense her emotions, which were an odd blend of relief and sincerity. But if she can create the kind of Force illusions we experienced in her home, then she could fake anything. She could have been anywhere, even on Coruscant. She might be able to project totally false emotions, too, because he could do much the same himself and fool even other Jedi Masters into believing them.

I’m not proud of that. But it’s a necessary skill.

Jacen walked toward the restored Jedi Temple. It was there as it had been for millennia, albeit in a new, modern guise, and the destruction by the Yuuzhan Vong seemed no more than a brief absence, the guttering of a candle in a breeze. When the breeze dropped, the flame would reappear, as steady and unmoving as it had been before-and so had the Temple.

Jacen walked along the wide promenade to the entrance. The stepped base, cut from almost flesh-tinted stone, lifted the Temple complex a little above the buildings surrounding it. This wasn’t a world of constructed canyons like the rest of Galactic City. This quadrant was low-rise, and from the transparisteel pyramid was a view that few in Coruscant ever saw-not the close gaze of another towering building opposite and a dense forest of others as far as the eye could see, but a wide vista. It was one of permacrete, stone, and transparisteel rather than grassy plains; but it was a rare open view of the horizon nonetheless.

The Temple’s architecture and interior design were aggressively modern, but key parts of the layout, like the council chamber, had been retained; the marble floor was a replica of the original. It struck Jacen as obsessive rather than reverent, as if the Jedi order had never wanted change and challenge to interrupt its sense of permanence. Jacen paused, hands meshed, and saw something he had never seen before: he saw ambition.

He saw a love of power and status. He saw a statement of government, of inexorable permanence. We’re back. We’re not going to be swept aside again. The stone almost spoke to him.

This didn’t feel like spirituality. He didn’t like it. No wonder Luke had insisted that the new grand trappings in the council chamber be removed. Jacen shivered at the touch of mundane ambition.