“I raided his locker,” he said. “You know how much this meant to him.”
The Jedi laid out a gray leather kama like a tablecloth where Fi could stare straight at it, and placed a red-and-gray helmet and armor plates on top of it.
“See that, Fi?” Jusik sat on the other edge of the bed and tilted Fi’s head a little so-if he was conscious of anything at all-he could see the thing he prized most: a set of armor he’d pillaged on Qiilura from a mercenary called Hokan. Besany found it odd that they didn’t seem to find killing a Mandalorian unsettling. “You keep looking at that, ner vod. Because you’re going to be wearing it as soon as you’re back on your feet. I promise you. You’re a free man now.”
Jusik leaned over and looked into Fi’s face as if he expected him to answer, but the commando’s eye movements seemed random and uncoordinated. Jusik settled at Fi’s side again and put one hand on his scalp, pouring every effort into repairing the damaged tissue in his brain.
Besany thought it was time to leave Darman with his brother for a while. Obrim stood at the doorway a long time and eventually surrendered to her tug on his sleeve. She could have sworn there were tears in his eyes; there were certainly tears in hers. They stood in the kitchen and the captain busied himself making caf, missing the cup and scattering grains everywhere.
“He’s never going to be back to normal, is he?” Obrim said, voice cracking. “Even if he makes ninety percent of what he was, it’ll still be hard on him.”
“The clones have a very high definition of normal, I’ve found. They’re also incredibly resilient.”
“That boy in there … that boy saved my men from a grenade during a siege, by throwing himself on it. I say that’s worth more than a thank-you and a few ales at the CSF Staff Club. He can stay here as long as he needs to. Right?”
Besany had heard that story so many times now from so many CSF officers-most of whom hadn’t even been present during the incident-that she was beginning to understand how reputations and legends were made. Obrim was one of life’s hard men, and he didn’t cry easily. But Fi had somehow become an icon, a symbol to the police, at least, of all those in uniform who did the dirty jobs and got no thanks. He’d be-come a hero. And, as Ordo mentioned every time she used the phrase, Mandalorians had no word for “hero.”
“Right,” said Besany. “And I’m glad Kal’s got a friend he can turn to.”
“Someone his own age to play with,, eh?” Obrim rattled cups and said nothing, with the same expression on his face that she’d seen on Skirata’s. It was the face of a man working out who he needed to hurt to make things right with the galaxy. “Is this what we elected?”
“What?”
“We both work for government enforcement. We’re Coruscant citizens. Is this what we thought we were getting as part of the deal? What’s happening to the Republic?”
“I know. I’ve asked myself the same thing…”
“I did twenty-eight years in the Senate Guard before I transferred to CSF. Did I take my eye off the ball? I wonder if it happened on my watch and I didn’t spot it.”
“Police can only deal with the law. Not ethics.”
“But these decisions are being made by politicians I’ve known and protected for years. It makes it… personal betrayal, I suppose.” Obrim seemed to focus on the caf again. “Technically, in law, we just stole government property. Like taking old office equipment from a department dumpster, not a living, breathing man with rights. How did we ever let that happen?”
“It didn’t happen overnight. It crept up on us.”
“But who’s going to do anything about it? The Senate’s smiling and nodding, and even the Jedi Council-okay, I talk to Jusik too much.”
“He’s going to rebel, isn’t he?”
“He’s not happy wearing the robes, I can tell you that. Very moral boy. Very moral. None of this seeing stuff from a certain point of view. No ambiguity. He calls it as he sees it.”
Besany wondered if Skirata knew, and then thought that he probably spotted Jusik’s tendencies right from the start. He was good at that. “Can they leave? Can Jedi resign?”
“No idea. Maybe they get them to turn in their belt and lightsaber or something.”
“We’ll find out. Ordo says there’ll be a showdown with his boss before too long.”
Besany left Darman as long as she could, keeping an eye on the chrono because she was now fitting this into her lunch breaks. Jusik was still sitting there with his hand on Fi’s head, doing whatever it was that Jedi did when they healed others, and talking very quietly to him. He glanced up at her, distracted for a moment, and she took Fi’s free hand. She found herself with a nervous grip on the tips of his fingers, sensing no reaction, and feeling she was somehow intruding by touching him when he wasn’t aware of it, or at least un-able to respond to her. With his features slack, eyes half closed and blinking frequently, he looked more of a total stranger now than when he’d been completely unresponsive.