Alema thought she saw Ben shaking his head. The two cousins were taking care to stand out of the light, and in such foggy conditions even dark-sensitive Twi’lek eyes could see little more than silhouettes.
“No,” Ben said. “I think he’s really trying to teach me something.”
“You couldn’t ask for a better instructor,” Jacen said. “But be careful. Your father is just looking for an excuse to send you back to the academy.”
Ben remained silent for a moment, then asked, “Is he going to find one?”
“That’s up to you,” Jacen replied evenly. “Do you think the techniques I’ve been teaching you are dark?”
“It depends on how I use them,” Ben replied. “Exactly.” Jacen’s voice grew warm, and he clasped Ben’s shoulder. “But the older your father grows, the more conservative he becomes. He’s afraid he hasn’t done a good job preparing the modern generation of Jedi-that they aren’t strong enough to employ all aspects of the Force,”
“What do you think?” Ben asked.
“I think he’s done a better job than he realizes. Many Jedi Knights aren’t strong enough to use the whole Force, but some are.” Jacen laid both hands on Ben’s shoulders. “Yoware.”
Ben poured pride into the Force. “You’re sure?”
“What do you think?” Jacen demanded. “You’re just asking because you want me to say it again.”
“I guess so.” Ben’s tone was chagrined. “You wouldn’t be teaching me to use my emotions if you didn’t think I was strong enough.”
Alema’s heart swelled with an awe that was almost religious. Unless she misunderstood what she was hearing-and that did not seem possible-Luke Skywalker was losing his only son to the thing he feared most: the dark side. And his own nephew was going to be the instrument of that loss.
“That’s right,” Jacen said to Ben. “I’d never teach you something you’re not ready to use. Now I need you to tell Captain Shevu that I won’t be able to join him on tonight’s raids. You’ll have to handle the Jedi duties alone.”
“Can do,” Ben said. “But Captain Girdun is starting to worry about not having enough Jedi to run two teams. Maybe you should consider asking the Council for some help.”
Jacen tipped his head at a cynical angle. “And how do you think that request would be received?”
“Yeah, I know-Dad runs the Council.” Ben’s tone was more conspiratorial than apologetic. “But Captain Girdun wanted me to suggest it.”
“I see.” Jacen considered this for a moment, then said, “You’d better tell Girdun that I’m considering the idea. We don’t want our subordinates worrying about our relationship with the Jedi Council, do we?”
“Probably not,” Ben agreed. “Should we hold the interrogations for you?”
Jacen shook his head. “Girdun may have to start without me,” he said. “I’m meeting someone else, then I have some business with Admiral Niathal.”
“The GAG Star Destroyer?”
“Maybe.” Jacen pointed up the walkway toward the Galactic Justice Center. “Go on to headquarters. I’ll tell you about it at home.”
“You better.”
Ben turned and started up the walkway, passing first Lumiya’s hiding place, then Alema’s. Once he was past, Alema turned her attention to the back side of the hedge and found the eavesdropper creeping toward her, still holding the parabolic antenna in one hand.
As the shadow drew nearer, its silhouette sharpened into that of a Jedi in a standard hooded robe, then into the form of a tall woman with the pale face and heavy brow of a Chev. A couple of steps more, and Alema realized that this was not just any Jedi following Ben. It was Tresina Lobi, one of the Masters who had served on Cal Omas’s Special Council during the war with the Yuuzhan Vong.
Alema dropped her hand to her lightsaber, at the same time willing Lobi not to make the mistake of letting that parabolic antenna swing past her hiding place. At this range, the antenna was sensitive enough to pick up sounds as faint as heartbeats, and the last thing Alema wanted was to have her presence detected.
She needn’t have worried. Lobi was still two meters away when Lumiya’s sharp voice sounded from the other side of the hedge. “Jacen, I’m impressed.”
Alema risked looking away from Lobi and saw Lumiya stepping onto the foggy walkway, her long robes seeming to flow out of the hedge as though they were nothing but shadow.
“You have him very well under control.”