“Ben?” Shevu leaned around the open doors. “Colonel Solo’s back. Report to him in the cell block.”
“Yes, sir.” Ben found himself marching down to the cell block, which happened to be the fastest and most dignified way to move without breaking into a run. He found Jacen with Captain Girdun, having one of those hissed close-quarters conversations that showed they were angry with each other. The words results and unacceptable drifted toward him. Jacen stopped and motioned Ben forward with a crooked finger; Girdun was clearly dismissed for the time being.
“I saw the news,” said Ben. “Nice shooting.”
“Shooting’s never nice.” Then Jacen switched from annoyed to benign in an instant. “But sometimes necessary. Look, your parents want to see you. Will you do the diplomatic thing and visit them?”
“Dad’s mad at me, isn’t he?”
“What makes you say that?”
“He always is. I never do things right for him.”
“He’s worried about you, and he needs some reassurance that I’m not teaching you bad ways.” Jacen put his hand on Ben’s shoulder. “He’d rather I wasn’t teaching you at all, but your mother is okay with it. In the end, I can’t make him or you do anything, but for what it’s worth, try not to have a fight with him.”
Ben heard the meaning clearly enough: he’d be sent to the academy. He couldn’t face that now. He might have a lot to learn, but he felt he’d passed the point where he could go back to lightsaber drill and meditation. He’d done real work, made a real difference, and he knew he would have no patience with theory again.
Perhaps Jacen could teach him more diplomacy. It seemed to be almost as handy as Force-listening and disguising your presence, two other things that Ben badly wanted to learn.
“Okay,” he said, filled with dread. “I’ll visit tonight.”
“Now let’s see what Ailyn Habuur has to say for herself.”
The bounty hunter had been in custody for nearly a week, and this was the first time Ben had seen her since Shevu had questioned her. She hadn’t been a glamorous woman to start with, but she looked terrible now; Girdun didn’t appear to have taken good care of her in Shevu’s absence. There were bruises on her face. She was leaning forward, arms braced on the table, breathing with some effort.
“I really need to know who you were sent to kill,” said Jacen, reasonable and earnest. He sat down at the other side of the table and indicated to Ben to take a seat near the doors. “Was it Chief Omas?”
“I’m just a debt collector.” Habuur wasn’t quite as defiant as she had been a few days earlier, but she wasn’t cracking, either. “Don’t let the blasters fool you.”
“You were carrying enough hardware to take out a platoon. You were with a known Corellian agent, so I know which government is paying you.”
“Like I said, debt collection … it’s a competitive business.”
“If you’ve come to Coruscant, you’re looking for a high-value Alliance target.”
“You’ve got all you’re getting out of me. Can I call a lawyer now?”
Suddenly Habuur’s head slammed down on the table without warning. Ben flinched at the loud crack. Jacen hadn’t lifted a finger. Habuur pulled herself upright again, blood trickling down her chin. She looked more surprised than hurt, although she appeared to have broken a tooth.
“Nice trick, Jedi boy.”
“I’ve got plenty of those.”
“I’ll bet.”
“Let’s try again. Was Omas your target? And who else is working with you?”
Ben still didn’t believe what he’d seen. He believed it the next moment when Jacen used the Force to crack her head on the table again.
“Jacen… ,” said Ben. This wasn’t right. And it wasn’t Jacen. “Jacen, should you-“
“Later.” Jacen glanced back at Ben, startled, as if he’d suddenly remembered he was in the room. “Go and wait outside.”
Ben realized he should have waited a long way from the interrogation room where he couldn’t hear anything, but he felt he had to stay close, as if distancing himself too much would have somehow allowed Jacen to do worse things than he was already doing. So he hurts people. I was pleased that he shot down an enemy fighter, but that guy’s dead. So why do I feel bad when I see him hurt someone? Ben took out his lightsaber and stared at the hilt, trying not to listen to the interrogation. This is a weapon. He’d been trained to use it to defend himself, but he also knew that it was a blade packed with enough pure energy to slice off someone’s head or cut clean through armor.