[Legacy Of The Force] - 08(152)

“It’s not justice, and it’s not punishment, “she said at last. “It’s about saying: this is as far as it goes. I have to stop him now.”

“It hurts to say it.”

“Not as much as I thought, but at the moment, it’s just words.”

Bardan finally resorted to a glowstick. He pulled it out of his belt and wedged it into a fissure in the rock to cast a soft yellow light. Then he took off his glove and held up a hand torn by old scarring, and gazed at the puckered skin as if recalling a long-lost happier time.

“We keep strills, “he said. “Hunting animals, the ones with folded skin and six legs that you might have seen around. A friend of mine loved his, but it started going crazy and attacking everyone, including me. He had to shoot it. Poor thing-it had a brain tumor. It wasn’t itself.

Killing it broke his heart, but he couldn’t let it carry on, not just for everyone’s safety, but for the animal, too, because it was utterly miserable. You sometimes have to kill what you love, end their pain and take it on yourself-because that’s what love is, sometimes.”

That struck a raw chord in Jaina. Not the thought that Jacen might be mad-if that made any difference to what he did-but that he was miserable somewhere in his soul. She thought of the Embrace of Pain, and the Jacen who had survived it, and wondered if his torturer Vergere had been even more poisonously subtle than anyone had ever imagined. Pain was central to Jacen’s life now. He thought he couldn’t avoid it or forget it. So he used it.

And in the end, he’d grown to need it, and thought oth-ers did, too, and that there was a virtue in necessity, because he could do nothing to stop that pain as long as he lived.

Better that it’s me, then, Jacen. Better someone who loves you and knows you, than an executioner who just sees you as vermin.

Did that make any difference?

“To think I blamed Jacen’s weakness for getting my other brother killed, “she said. “It was me who was going to the dark side then.”

“Forget about you, “Gotab said sharply. “You have a job to do, that’s all. Personally, I never bought this pious nonsense about Jedi violence being fine as long as it was done with a pure heart. Sophistry, my dear. You’re going to kill your brother because he’s a power-hungry, murdering dictator, no one else in your Jedi circle has the moral courage to do it, and you stand the best chance of stopping him. Finish the job like Fett and Beviin showed you. Then you can worry about your motives when the galaxy is safe again, and you have time for the luxury of contemplating the state of your soul.”

It was as harsh as a slap in the face. But Jaina felt a cold certainty cascade over her as if she’d been doused with icy water, making her instantly alert.

It wasn’t the kind of revelation that left you feeling enlightened and uplifted, understanding the galaxy better.

It was the sort that said there was only one way out of the burning building if you wanted to live, and you would have to pass through fire.

She stood up and stretched her legs. “Thank you, Bard’ika, “she said. “I didn’t come here to feel better about this situation. I came here for clarity. You’ve given me that.” “It has to be your choice, Jaina. Not my orders.” “I choose, then, “she said. “I bet you have grandchildren, yes?”

“Great-great-grandchildren, actually…. twenty of them.”

“Then, Bard’ika, I’ll do it for them, so they have a galaxy to grow up in.” Her heart broke, and not for the first time. She thought of the strill, desperate and unhappy, biting those who loved it, and knew the burden of being the Sword of the Jedi. Her biggest fear now wasn’t that she would have to live the rest of her life with Jacen’s death on her conscience. She had found a way to replace it with what mattered-not her personal problems, but the threat to the future of kids like Gotab’s great-great-grandchildren, and-yes, even Fett’s.

She took out her lightsaber and handed the hilt to Gotab for him to admire in the dim yellow light. “Do you still use yours?” she asked. “I spar occasionally, “he said. “But slowly. As much as a man of my age can. It keeps the joints more supple.”

“If you could choose, would you give up your Force powers?”

“Yes, all except healing. I justified my existence with that many times.” He activated the blade and it hummed into life, casting a violet light. He made a few practice passes. “Well made, Jaina.”

“Can Venku use one?”

“He has two, actually.”

“Did you teach him to use them?”