Life was going on much as before. Recent days seemed to have been a lot of sweat for nothing. If he needed any more answers to Sith philosophical questions, he was on his own. Lumiya had managed to commit suicide-by-Skywalker. Jacen might not have been part of the Jedi Council, but the GAG were very efficient interceptors of messages.
Uncle Luke did it. He actually did it. Like my dadyou never know how far they’ll go, do you?
“So,” Jacen said, “Corellia seems to have been very quiet in my absence.”
“They were waiting for your returnthat push on the Core looks imminent. They’d hate you to miss anything.” Niathal, annoyed or not about his extra day or so of absence, seemed to have an air about her of someone who was suddenly more comfortable with her new role, as if she’d taken advantage of his back being turned to forge fresh alliances and consolidate her power. It was almost like a fragrance; the aura that surrounded the love of power was something Jacen knew very well indeed. “The triumvirate is still doing the day-to-day running of affairs, but I’ve got our Intel folks and political analysts reading the signs about who might replace the dear departed Prime” She stopped abruptly, and this time she was genuinely rattled. He could feel it. “I’m so sorry. That was grossly insensitive of me under the circumstances.”
“It’s okay.” Maybe there was a gentler side to Niathal after all. If there was, he’d exploit it to the hilt. “Can’t tread on eggs and suspend all normal conversation about deaths. The best thing we can do to honor my aunt’s memory is to win for her.”
“Indeed.”
“Murkhana seems tense. We’re past the deadline, yes?”
“We’re keeping a watching brief on that. Might well be Mandalorian psych tactics. Eight X-wings on standby to keep the peace is the price of GA harmony. On the other hand, if the Mandalorians do show up to support their Verpine allies by halting disputed production in their own inimitable way, then at least we might get a very useful look at the capabilities of their new assault fighter.”
“Some might think,” he said quietly, “that we’d prefer to see them attack Murkhana than not.”
“I never turn down intelligence, Colonel Solo.”
“Very wise, Admiral Niathal.”
Jacen wandered over to the bridge holochart that showed the entire Corellian theater. They still had a lot of ships. There was a limited action going on on the Coreward side of the chart. It always struck Jacen as overdetached to show real-time life-and-death struggles as charmingly aesthetic and silent graphics.
“Is this current?”
“Yes, sir,” said the officer of the watch. “Updated once a minute.”
“I think we’re missing something, Lieutenant,” Jacen said, dipping his fingertip into the maze of light to make his point. “Look, what you have here is actually a flotilla of corvettes, and this Destroyer here will move into this position, because she’s actually operating a”
He trailed off, aware of the raised eyebrows and puzzled looks he was getting, but bathed in the growing warmth of revelation.
I can see all this.
“Can we check that out?” the officer of the watch called to a colleague. “Colonel Solo is rarely mistaken.”
Colonel Solo, Jacen thought, had just had the epiphany of his life.
It’s true. Lumiya was right. Oh, this is exquisite. I was blind before. How did I ever think I could succeed as a commander without this?
Lumiya had promised him a battlefield awareness and judgment that made ordinary battle meditation look like a finger paintingto sense and coordinate by the power of his mind and will alone, a power that only came to fruition in the Master of the Sith.
It’s me. It really is. It was Mara’s sacrifice after all, I accept that now.
But I still don’t understand the prophecy. And I don’t like what I can’t understand.
He was a Sith Lord. Now his work could truly begin.
It had happened.
And it was beautiful.
JEDI COUNCIL SHUTTLE, HAPES CLUSTER
Luke was grateful for something he still couldn’t understand. He paused before he walked through the doors to the compartment, taking a few deep breaths. Cilghal looked up as he came in, and moved as if to leave.
Marano, Mara’s bodylay draped from the neck down in a plain white sheet on an examination table. Luke had steeled himself for something terrible, imagining her horribly disfigured or her features contorted; but she simply looked as if she were sleeping on her back, pale and peaceful, her red hair smoothly tidy in a way it never was when he watched her as she slept.
“It’s okay, Cilghal,” he said. “I don’t need to be alone with her.”