The New Jedi Order: A Vision of Confluence

XVII: Martyrdom

The difference only a few weeks could make was unbelievable. His aunt looked like Aunt Mara again and Anakin blinked back tears as he hugged her tight. His chin rested on her shoulder and in a moment of stranger vertigo, he realized he was almost as tall as she was. Mara always seemed so tall, so much larger than life. He imagined actually looking down at her and the complex mix of emotions that unleashed he couldn’t quite name. Strange nostalgia that without really realizing, his childhood - what there was - was almost gone. A kind of pride, to be tall and the man he’d imagined, the kind of man that, well, his grandfather could’ve been.

“I’m glad you’re ok,” he mumbled into her shoulder.

He’d felt in the Force his aunt and uncle’s surprise and joy but he almost didn’t dare let himself hope. He kept seeing the way she looked on Dantooine, drawn and tired and like she was putting on an act, putting on the mask of intensity and energy he always knew his aunt to have. Now there didn’t seem to be any exhaustion or pain behind her smile as she held the young Jedi at arm’s length, exaggeratedly looking him up and down.

“You got taller again,” she grumbled.

Next to the happy reunion, Master Skywalker took in all the Jedi present, contentment and pride writ across his face. Much like the moment half a month ago, Knights and Masters filled in the airy chamber, such a motley, vibrant collection of individuals, every one of them unique and precious. Mei leaned against the wall in her armor, thumbs hooked into her low-slung utility belt. Kyp sat at the conference table in his dark robes, all intensity and serious focus, looking older than he should. Jacen, in a jumpsuit, had his legs crossed, one foot jumping in energized anticipation. Harlan Ysanna, sleeveless in a vest and cargo pants, chatted with Tresk, back in Jedi robes for the first time in a while. A few others with hoods up, lingering in a knot as they whispered. Anakin smiled so wide his face might crack, constantly glancing back at Mara, who winked at her nephew and then gave him a shove toward the conference table.

None needed the force to feel the endless relief rolling off the youngest Solo.

“The first order of business,” Luke began, “is the Priestess Elan.”

A collective groan swept the chamber as several Jedi grimaced. Jacen, foot dropping to the floor with a loud thud punched his fist into his palm. “I knew it was a trap!”

Mei snorted and several other Jedi shifted in their seats.

“It was,” Luke agreed. Bitter, the memory twisted his lips and the Jedi Master knew regret. He wanted to trust the story. He wanted to extend good faith. He wanted there to be good in the Yuuzhan Vong, as there was in all beings. The potential, at least. The capacity. Merely because the Force ignored them couldn’t mean they were, as one, evil. Or incapable of morality, or-or even unable to even comprehend it. A conscientious objector to the war, a Yuuzhan Vong of their very religion decrying the senseless brutality of the invasion?

It made him pause to wonder just how manipulable he might be.

Because he had to meet with Elan. He had to sit down across from her and hear her words. He had to look into her eyes and get to know the person that had to be there.

Instead, when the young Priestess stepped into the room…

“We all owe Master Cilghal our lives.” Mara looked pained, having grown close to the healer over the course of her sickness. Many hours they spent, one on one, even though Mara hated to be handled with kid gloves, trying to determine the symptoms, the effects, the reach of the ever-elusive, ever-evasive, and now tentatively in-remission disease.

“How is she?”

“Tionne said she was awake today for a few hours. Returning to Yavin IV is agreeing with her; Cilghal says that the life of the jungles helps.”

Luke closed his eyes, seeing again the way the Priestess folded her hands together, so bizarre in her nondescript jumpsuit. Introduced by an NRI adjutant, Elan’s eyes sparkled with delight as a smile spread across her thin lips.

“Jeedai,” the Yuuzhan Vong murmured. “I am so honored…”

Her last word was sighed, hissing out of her throat and for a moment Luke paused, about to bow and then offer a hand in greeting. Something stopped him. Elan kept sighing. Breath rushed for too long from her mouth, until she was exhaling hard, a rattle in her throat. Time moved like thick oil. Something was wrong. Something was off.

The Force was silent.

It was that jarring dissonance that wrapped nerfwool around Luke’s thoughts. Elan was doing something, her familiar, the bird-like Vergere recoiling away from the Priestess. But the Force was silent. Silent. The other Jedi present, arrayed in soft and sumptuous couches and chairs, were just as uncertain as he. Opting for an informal, peaceful environment, the chamber was situated as a sitting area and lounge. No stark and impersonal conference tables and uncomfortable chairs. Luke hoped for spirited conversation and easing tensions, sanding off culture shock.

Which left most of the Jedi scattered around the lounge, flatfooted, confused and blind as to Elan’s intent.

All save one.

Cilghal leapt from where she sat, moving faster than Luke had ever seen the Mon Calamari move. Wind rippled behind her and now the Force roared, shocking him at how much she pulled to herself. Webbed hands outstretched, Cilghal planted herself between the still-exhaling Elan and the rest of the room. The NRI adjutant, escorting the Yuuzhan Vong, was already on his knees. His face was blackened, purple veining around red-shot eyes as he hiccuped thick liquid from the corners of his mouth. Luke felt him die.

As Elan exhaled, Cilghal inhaled. Her broad nostrils flared and her flat mouth yawned wide and a hurricane erupted at the pinnacle of a Coruscant skyhook.

“I think we should be flattered.” Mei observed, shrugging her shoulders. At several aghast expressions, the Jensaarai rolled her eyes. “Not that Master Cilghal almost died, but that the vong sent a priestess to try to assassinate us. What? It means we’re doing something right. They haven’t even tried to assassinate Chief Feyl’ya or the Senate.”

Shaken from the memory, Luke frowned but the logic was there. As far as anyone knew, this was the first time the Yuuzhan Vong tried to infiltrate an assassin. It was so contrasting to their usual brutish, direct manner of war that NRI was beside itself, desperately re-evaluating all of their psychological and cultural profiles to accommodate the new factors. There had been infiltrators to be sure - Danni Quee could attest to that - but those had been more like blunt implements. A covert agent to suddenly enact murder as the vanguard of an invasion. The Elan plot was as different to that as a krayt dragon was to an eopie.

The feint at Ord Mantell, the ‘assassination’ attempt at Wayland, now the invaders were willing to invest not just the agent but also fleet assets like capital ships to sell the facade.

Luke shivered, knowing that without Cilghal, he and many of his Jedi would be dead. Trying to imagine Elan’s breath weapon in a place like the Senate was a nightmare. Hundreds would die or more and the chaos would’ve been incalculable.

“Mei is right. Of all the targets the Yuuzhan Vong could’ve chosen, we were the best prepared to survive it. May the Force guide Cilghal back to good health, but if it had been in the Senate the New Republic itself might have fallen.”

Corran Horn, wearing his flight suit unzipped to midchest, only recently arrived from Corellia and his self-imposted exile, bore a look of such mournful severity one could be forgiven thinking that he had been the one to deliver the infiltrator.

“When Deign Lian destroyed Ithor, I thought that was the worst thing one of these vong could do. We all heard the excuse, that in their culture a fallen champion had to be treated in a certain way, that’s how they explained killing a whole world. But this Elan – she didn’t even try to justify herself.” The ex-pilot shook his head. “That’s a fanatic. Whatever that plague was, it would’ve killed her if Cilghal venting the room didn’t.”

“We’ve known the Yuuzhan Vong hold martyrdom in high esteem,” Kyp held up a hand, cutting off anything Corran might have said. “I’m not saying that we should’ve seen it coming. NRI checked Elan over and over again and Han said she never slipped up. But willingness to die for the cause, that’s pretty patent Yuuzhan Vong.”

“Die for the cause maybe, but she had to know that the chances of hurting us, really hurting us, were slim. That psychological profile indicates some kind of desperation.”

“Does it?” Luke paced about, hands folded in his sleeves. “She caught us all off guard. With how fast the plague killed, if any one of us caught even a single breath of it…and they couldn’t predict Cilghal. I don’t think any Jedi could do what she did and survive it.”

“But to sacrifice ships at Ord Mantell? And to spend Elan on just trying to kill Jedi? You just said so, Master Skywalker, and no offense to us, but if Elan played her cards right, she could’ve killed a whole lot more than a dozen Jedi. The Yuuzhan Vong are afraid of us and that puts a target on our backs.”

“The Jedi have always been feared by evil,” Kyp snorted, “this isn’t anything new.”

“No, what’s new are the depths they’re willing to go to take us down,” Corran spread his hands wide, looking around. “They killed a planet, a whole planet, just to try to kill me.”

“Well, there were the boforr trees too,” Jacen muttered.

“We’re getting away from the point.” Anakin reddened slightly as everyone looked over to him. “Elan failed, right? Master Cilghal stopped her and now we’re ready for the next time, if there is one. I mean – it’s scary the vong would try this, but we’re not the only ones they’re trying to kill.”

“Kid’s got a point. Thank the Force we rode this one out but what else can we do?” Mei shoved off from where she leaned against a wall, claiming a seat, spinning it and straddling it, leaning on the back. “What?”

“That’s…true.” Luke allowed. “The takeaway is that we all need to be very careful. Keep an eye out for infiltrators in masquers. Stay on your guard. I don’t want to lose anyone.” Unspoken was the ‘else’, thoughts in the chamber already turning to those that had fallen already.

“And Mara?” Kyp asked. He perked up a little, banishing a degree of his frown and intensity as he looked over to the readhead. “It’s a surprise to see you doing so well – a great surprise. What happened?”

“Strangely enough, we have Elan to thank for it.” Mara ran fingers through the fringe of her hair, lips quirking slowly into a smile. “She had a familiar with her – Vergere – who wasn’t Yuuzhan Vong. She must’ve been a species from the Outer Rim, but when Cilghal stopped Elan, during the chaos Vergere escaped out of the chamber as the blast doors were closing. Han chased her, he was waiting outside, but she made it to an escape pod on the skyhook. Right before it launched, she gave him a phial of what she said were her tears.” Mara chewed on her lip for a moment. “She said they were for me. We ran them through every single test you could imagine, but at some point you have to trust the Force and I…tasted them.”

Kyp’s eyebrows skyrocketed, as Mei rocked back in her chair and Anakin’s jaw dropped.

“Aunt Mara! But if she was with Elan and –“

“They worked.” Mara shrugged, daring anyone to disagree. “I haven’t felt this good since…well, since before it all started. Oolos says as far as he can tell, my disease is in remission.” A murmur of smiles and congratulations rippled around the chamber again, even as the returning three Jedi still rode the shock of the reveal. Anakin tried to imagine trusting anything related to the Yuuzhan Vong. If one of them offered him a corusca gem, he’d probably throw it away just because it was sure to have something horrible like a dovin basal inside it, or something. Even if Vergere wasn’t a yuuzhan vong, even though Uncle Luke said that she had a presence in the Force, he couldn’t believe Aunt Mara would take that risk.

He was beyond ecstatic to see the effects, but still, to trust something from the familiar of a priestess that just tried to kill her own husband…

Kyp rapped his knuckles on the table, catching everyone’s attention. “Then it has to be proof. Mara, whatever you have, it’s from the Yuuzhan Vong. It can’t be a coincidence that the partner of a vong Priestess just so happens to know exactly how to, well, at least treat you. Maybe even cure you.”

“My thought too,” she agreed. “Everything is personal with the vong now.”

“But we have to be better than that,” Luke admonished, taking time to meet each and every assembled Jedi’s eyes. “They hurt us. They’ve tried to assassinate us. They’ve hurt and they’ve killed our friends and family. They want to drag us down to the violence that they worship. We are Jedi. We’re more than that.”

“I hope we can keep that luxury, Master Skywalker,” Kyp murmured.

With the discussions of Elan out of the way, and Mara’s remission, focus finally shifted to the true purpose of the meeting. A hologram of Eboracum shimmered in the center of the conference table, surrounded by smaller holos that depicted Imperial warships, the Redoubt on the planet, Astartes in their armor and more. A handful of datacubes had been passed around beforehand, each containing an official Senate and NRI brief on the ‘Imperium Exsilius’, letting everyone be prepared and saving explanations. Implicit was the understanding that discussion of this didn’t leave the room, all of it classified until the Senate decided otherwise.

“We’ve all read the brief, but I want to hear your take.” Luke led the discussion, finally picking a seat at random, settling himself between Harlan and Tresk. Kyp, Mei and Anakin exchanged glances, before Kyp cleared his throat to begin.

“I’ll be blunt. I don’t think we should have anything to do with this Imperium.” Surprise washed through the room until Luke held up a hand, calm, and raised an eyebrow.

“Go on.”

“Let’s see-“ Kyp started ticking off on his fingers. “They hate non-humans at least as much as the Empire and probably quite a bit more. They’re completely paranoid about everything. They admit that they’ve spent decades conquering their own galaxy, if we can trust that. They hate droids as much as a vong does and for about as little reason. I think they probably worship death too, if you notice the amount of skulls they have around. Real ones, too.

Master Skywalker, I’m not exaggerating when I say I think they’re evil. Dark in a way I don’t know the Yuuzhan Vong are. Their Iterator was polite but do you know what he reminded me of? COMPNOR. That kind of smiling, oily pleasantness when he really just wanted to see us dead.”

Impassive, Luke nodded even as Kyp’s words sunk home in other Jedi. “Mei, Anakin, what do you think?”

“I think they’re really intense and they have a lot of problems.” Mei fiddled with the feathery cowl of her armor, before smoothing it down and crossing her legs. “Are they as bad as the Empire? I don’t know. Maybe? We just worked with the Remnant at Ithor, so I don’t think that’s a very good point anyway. I didn’t sense any real lies during the conference and even though Rhona almost messed everything up, they didn’t come across as malicious. More…scared? I think.”

Luke nodded, then looked toward his nephew. Anakin adjusted himself, tugging on his tunic and fidgeting.

“I think…I think Mei is right. I felt a kind of fear too. Not like they’re afraid of us, but like…they’re afraid…for something. They said they left a lot of things unfinished where they came from and I think that’s what they’re thinking about. Not really about the New Republic or even the vong.”

Tresk, next to Luke pointed a furred finger at the holos gently revolving in the air. Several of the Imperium warships shown had highlighted areas of severe damage and battle scars.

“That’s my read as well. You can see how damaged their fleet is. They fled what had to be a catastrophic battle. Right now, the Imperium is looking for allies and Senator Shesh is right that the New Republic is in the perfect place to offer support.”

“That’s all fine but I know what I felt. Didn’t you? That…their primarch, whatever he or even it is, we can’t work with something that wrong. The Force was repulsed by him.”

“You know that’s not what I sensed,” Mei countered. “Or Anakin, or Master Im’nel.”

“Fine, we all felt something different, but I know what I felt. I know. Luke, their leader is a monster.”

Luke remained silent even as discussion scattered around the table, Mara leaning over to ask Mei something, as Tresk and Kyp argued, as Corran sunk deeper into his own seat, looking deeply conflicted. Jacen prodded Anakin and interrogated him about his own sense of the Imperium’s leader, as Anakin tried to explain in words what could never be captured by mundane language.

“Jacen, it wasn’t like anything I ever sensed before. It was like I could, like I could actually see the Force. Not like visualizing it or imagining it, but like it was just there.”

“That’s not possible,” his brother said and Anakin vehemently nodded.

“It shouldn’t be! I want to talk to Master Ikrit about it; even the Golden Globe didn’t feel anything even like this.”

Ganner Rhysode, another Knight, argued with Tresk about Kyp’s meaning, even while the latter looked on in silence. Harlan apologized again to Tresk for not only bailing on the conference, but also for failing to reign in Rhonabeq. The Bothan waved off her apologies, remarking dryly that the only one who could change the Muugari pirate’s mind was Rhonabeq herself.

Luke cleared his throat, conversation rapidly dying out. “Kyp, that’s a heavy accusation.”

“I know the Dark side, Master Skywalker.” Durron spoke quietly, but the pain in his voice leant an edge to the simple words.

“I know you do. We all do, in our own ways. You all had such different experiences that jumping to a conclusion immediately is something we cannot do. Senator Shesh is eager to work with the Imperium and she wants Jedi to continue to liaise with them. We can’t sit out something that could be important to both the New Republic and the war.”

“We have to,” Kyp clenched his fists. “Master Skywalker, the Imperium is wrong. Even if – even if what I sensed was wrong, or a trick, it doesn’t change anything else.”

“Kyp’s right.” Meeting wide eyes and generally surprised faces, Corran chuckled. “I can agree with Kyp sometimes. He’s right. Mei, the Remnant isn’t the Empire, even if they kept the uniforms. If Palpatine showed up tomorrow with a dozen Death Stars and promised to help us defeat the Yuuzhan Vong in return for letting him have a nice retirement, it wouldn’t be worth it. Palpatine was pure evil. The Empire was evil, and you can’t work with evil. We all read the brief. Forcing all non-humans to carry special ID? I spent time in Invisec. It’s never just ‘an ID’.”

Surprised by the support, Kyp nodded to Corran. “They’re conscripting the locals on Pirve too.” He emphasized the pre-‘Compliance’ name hard, as if daring anyone to correct him. “Is this really the kind of people we want to associate with?”

“They treated Master Im’nel no differently from Senator Shesh!” Anakin had sensed the Imperial’s reticence about the Bothan, no denying that, but they had proved themselves able to rise above that, acting perfectly cordial. Some of the Senator’s staff were non-humans too, taking notes during the conference, and the Imperials seemed to barely notice them. The story the freight captain Rhoki told certainly wasn’t the most pleasant thing, but even she admitted that as far as she was aware, the Imperium hadn’t started any pogroms against non-humans or, aside from destroying the starport, gone out of their way to kill anyone. For people as obviously warlike as the Imperium, Anakin had to admit that it came across as level-headed.

Even the big Astartes, Thiel, who seemed always on alert and tense, was never impolite or speciesist.

“Anakin, just because they’re polite to your face just means they’re smarter than a Hutt,” Corran chided. Anakin swallowed down a flash of irritation at the condescension – of course he knew that. But he was a Jedi and it was hard to hide your feelings from a Jedi, especially the Imperials, who probably didn’t even know what a Jedi was. Certainly, they didn’t like Im’nel being there, but he didn’t sense outright hatred. Given what they had implied about where they came from and the hardships their Imperium claimed to have faced, Anakin wasn’t sure that, if what the Imperials were saying was true, their distrust was unwarranted.

After all, while the Diversity Alliance had horrible intentions, the anger and resentment that led to its formation was very real. It didn’t make all humans evil for what the Empire did, but it was hard to condemn the way non-humans felt after the Empire.

“For some of us, the Empire isn’t just a story,” Corran continued. “Ask any of my friends what it was like living under the Empire as anything but a human. We don’t need any more of that in the galaxy, not even if they have big ships and big soldiers.”

Finally, Luke spoke up, looking pensive, thoughtful.

“All the same, Corran, the Empire became the Remnant. Many of your friends also used to be part of the Empire. You’d trust Tycho with your life, and so would I.” He smiled, laughed a little. “I dreamed of joining the Imperial Academy at one time. It sounds like, from what Master Im’nel, Mei and Anakin have said, along with Senator Shesh’s brief, that the Imperium is trying to overcome their biases. They had to know that the New Republic embraces all life, human or otherwise.”

Kyp shoved back from the conference table, rising to his feet.

“This is a mistake, Master Skywalker. I won’t have anything to do with this Imperium. The Empire was my enemy, and they’ll be my enemy too. I won’t…” he shook his head, taking a deep breath. “It’s not worth it.”

“That’s your decision to make, Kyp. I can’t condemn people I haven’t met, not when they’re making an effort to bridge a divide.” Luke gestured toward Mei. “We would be missing friends if I did.”

Kyp inclined his head to Luke, saying nothing more, and swept from the chamber. Anakin felt roiling tension and irritation ripple in Kyp’s wake as he left, the Jedi Master a knot of turmoil in the Force. Corran rose too.

“I’m with Kyp. I made one mistake already, and it cost more than I could have feared. I can’t make another. I’m sorry Master Skywalker.”

Luke nodded toward the other Master, who followed in Kyp’s footsteps.

Uneasily, Anakin looked around the other assembled Jedi, focusing especially on Jacen. His brother rubbed at his chin, deep in thought, but didn’t speak or follow the two masters. He felt oddly relieved, expecting Jacen to object on moral grounds too.

“I won’t ask anything of any of you that you aren’t prepared to give.” Luke spread his hands flat on the polished surface, exuding peacefulness. Even with Kyp and Corran’s dissension, Anakin’s uncle was centered, calm. Unfazed. It was Kyp and Corran’s decision, after all, and nothing they said was wrong, or out of line.

“Well, I kind of like them,” Mei remarked. “They’ve got problems, but we can straighten them out.” Her humor cracked the forming ice and there were a few laughs around the table.

“’Do or do not’,” Luke quoted. “I’d like to meet their Primarch myself. I trust all of you, but I’d like to see this effect he has. The Force is full of mysteries – more than a few I’ve seen. You all felt something very different and if this Primarch is the ultimate authority of the Imperium, then it’s important we understand him. I’m not saying Kyp is right, but if their leader is Dark, or can’t be trusted, then Senator Shesh needs to know.

Moving on, then, is the topic of the Senator’s deal with the Imperium. Face, if you would?”

Swearing came from a figure in Jedi robes, their hood drawn up and over their head, lingering off in a corner of the room. Anakin stifled a smile as Garik Loran tugged his hood down, revealing himself.

“We’ve been infiltrated,” Tresk said with the intensity of observing the weather, taking a sip of water.

“Everyone, this is Colonel Garik Loran, commander of Wraith Squadron. The other two are Bhindi Drayson and Zev Veers.”

“Shit,” another of the hooded ‘Jedi’ observed, pulling down his own hood. “Cover’s blown, boss.”

“Where did you even get those robes?” Harlan asked.

Mei raised her hand, her other gesturing at her Jensaarai armor.

“I mean, I wasn’t using mine.”

Sure enough, Face’s own tunic barely reached his ankles and Veers, another taller man, with a broad build, was straining the seams. Only Drayson, a slight woman like the Jensaarai, seemed entirely comfortable. Face tugged his own tunic off, revealing an unadorned NRI uniform, meandering over to the conference table and dropping the wadded up tunic in Mei’s lap.

“Great,” she muttered.

“Face is here to give us a briefing on an upcoming mission the Imperium has requested Jedi support on.”

The mentioned pilot tossed a lazy salute to Luke, sinking into a chair and kicking his heels up on the conference table. He aimed a remote at the hologram of Eboracum and clicked, replacing it with another world-

“Obroa Skai,” Jacen recognized immediately. “We’re retaking it?”

“Oh of course not, we can’t even hold territory right now.” Face clicked again and the hologram zoomed toward the surface, revealing a sprawling city with a massive complex that seemed to devour the majority of it. “It’s a retrieval mission. The Imperium wants information on something they call ‘the Warp’ and if you want to look for obscure knowledge, the Institute is the place to go.”

The Imperials had seemed so nonplussed when Shesh admitted that what they described as the ‘Immaterium’ was utterly unknown. They acted like a Jedi confronted by someone who’d never heard of the Force, like it was such an expected and ordinary part of the world to know about. It was yet another indication of a degree of truth about their claim of extra-galactic origin, Anakin thought, since if they had never heard of hyperspace, and no one in the galaxy had ever heard of the ‘warp’…

“We’re going, of course,” Face continued, pointing at Veers and Drayson, the latter of which waved. “Wraith Squadron has been trying to penetrate the vong lines for the past three months and the scarheads are annoyingly good at keeping us out. If the Imperium wants to sponsor an express ticket to a captured world, we’re going to be right there with them.

They say they have a way in from orbit without the vong noticing us. All we needed then was a ride to orbit, which as Master Skywalker has assured us, is going to be very generously provided by one Rhonabeq.”

Jacen went wide-eyed. “Rhonabeq? The Penitent Queen? Isn’t that a suicide mission?”

“Rhonabeq offered her ship and her expertise as a way of atoning for her mistake,” Luke’s words were firm and flat, Anakin looking at his uncle anew at the way he suddenly seemed far older, both warier and wearier. “She could have caused the deaths of the Senator, all the crew of Malaghi Shesh, Master Durron, Master Im’nel, Mei and your own brother.”

“But a suicide mission? Uncle Luke, that’s horrible.”

“Rhonabeq is a Jedi. The Force will guide her.”

Rarely did Anakin ever see the Skywalker that faced down the Emperor, twice, that pulled himself back from the brink of the Dark, who fought his own mad clone, struck down Dark Jedi and Sith aspirants and broke the Galactic Empire. He sat across from that man now, taken aback, wondering just where the gentle, smiling uncle he knew was, knowing still that that uncle was there too. Iron and velvet, when needed. The son of the other Anakin, he shivered. Mara appeared just as uncompromising.

Troubled, Jacen crossed his arms, frowning.

“Her ship’s been retrofit with ablative panels and camouflage. If everything goes well and as Master Skywalker-“

“Luke, Face.”

“as Luke says, the Force guides us, the vong will think Penitent Queen is just another piece of orbital trash coming down and Jedi Rhonabeq will escape without notice after dropping us off. As for the dropping off, the Imperium claims they’ll handle that part of the mission. We’ll learn more when we rendezvous with them on their battleship, Samothrace.”

“Which leaves the final question – who will go?”

Mei’s hand shot up. “Is it really a question, Master Skywalker? Anakin and I have already met the Imperials. Master Durron won’t go and Master Im’nel has other responsibilities.”

“What? Anakin, you can’t!”

“It’ll be safer than Ithor, Jacen. Besides, if you’re worried about trusting them, it’s like Uncle Luke said. When Rhonabeq scared them, they could’ve attacked us, but they held back.”

“There’s a big difference between a diplomatic meeting and actually going with them to a captured planet. Should we even be helping them? Until we know for sure that we can trust them?”

“The New Republic has already signed agreements and their Iterator is on Coruscant to address the Senate.” Mei observed.

“But…”

“What a world,” Harlan laughed, “when Master Durron and Jacen are in agreement.”

Jacen flushed.

“You’re right. It’s a commitment from the Jedi to participate. It’s also a good way to learn about these Imperials in a less formal environment. A natural one. Soldiers talk and are a lot more honest than politicians.”

Bhindi Drayson, daughter of famed Admiral Drayson, seconded Luke’s opinion.

“It’s why NRI wants the Wraiths there.”

“Because you make friends with everybody?”

Face looked wounded at Mara, clutching his heart.

“Oh, that cuts. But Luke’s right. We’re going just as much to spy on the Imperials as to spy on the vong. With Jedi along for the ride, we can spy a lot better.”

“The Force isn’t for spying,” Jacen spat.

“Alright,” Face acceded. “With Jedi along for the ride, we can uh, understand a lot better. Not to mention, they need us to interface with whatever is left on Obroa Skai. Assuming the scarheads haven’t smashed every last circuitboard.”

“By us,” Drayson interjected, “he means me.”

“I can turn on and off a datapad, Lieutenant, which makes me qualified as well. Look, even if it wasn’t coming from Shesh’s office and my superiors at NRI, I’d ask for Jedi anyway. You all have the most experience against the vong, at least on the ground. I’m not stupid enough to leave that kind of asset on the table.”

“So then, like I said, I’m going.”

“If you’re volunteering, Mei, you have my support. Anakin, I promised you time on Yavin. It’s been too long since we had a chance to train together. Can I make it up to you by coming along?”

A chance to go on a mission with his Uncle? Like Jacen had on Belkadan? Anakin stammered out an affirmation: “I mean, you don’t even have to ask-“

His chest felt tight, warmth filling the young Jedi as Colonel Loran continue to discuss the planned mission, Drayson filling in a few technical details, as his aunt watched him from the corner of her eye. A very quiet thought, tucked in the back of his mind, barely heard, whispered he still trusts me. For a moment, Anakin thought of his father, before taking a deep breath and redoubling his focus on what Face was saying.