CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Jacen Solo clasped his hands at the small of his back. He’d answered his uncle’s call for the Jedi to assemble in a small grove on an upper level of the Tafanda Bay. Though he could still feel Jaina’s presence in the floating Ithorian city, he was a bit surprised that she had not come to the meeting. Given the impression he was getting from her, he knew she was simming again, and he momentarily resented how the squadron was keeping her separate from him and the Jedi.

Standing there, between Ganner and Anakin, Jacen caught himself thinking negatively about his sister and probed his own feelings. He felt a tinge of jealousy because she clearly loved flying with Rogue Squadron, and Jacen was very proud of how well she had succeeded in her role as a fighter pilot. He knew she’d not abandoned her Jedi heritage or training, but was just finding another way to employ it.

Following in Corran Horn’s tradition of serving the squadron. Jacen glanced down the line and saw Corran. Jacen had accepted the task of trying to be the sort of Jedi that Corran and Luke had become. He acknowledged doing good and necessary work on Belkadan and Garqi, but still he had a sense of dissatisfaction haunting him.

Memories of the slaughter on Dantooine reminded him what the worst of that Jedi tradition could be. He knew that none of them had been given any choice by the Yuuzhan Vong: they had to kill soldiers, or many more people would have been killed. They had been acting as defenders there, so there had been no hint of the dark side attached to their actions. And yet many creatures died.

Jacen found himself once again returned to a philosophical question that he could not see a way around. If the Force was something that bound all life together, could killing be in any way justified? The Jedi Code says there is no death, only the Force, but the death of billions on Alderaan and Carida was enough to send shock waves through the Force. If that was true, then didn’t lesser deaths also have an effect?

As certain as he was that he didn’t have an answer for that basic paradox, he knew there was one out there. Anakin had suggested that in his search he was circling the answer, and he couldn’t fault his little brother’s insight. But in circling something, I know at the very least there is something to circle. Now I just have to find what it is I’m circling.

Two things served to rock Jacen out of his internal journey. The first was the arrival of Relal Tawron, the Ithorian high priest, along with Luke. Until the Ithorian showed up, Jacen had no idea why they had been called together, and the solemnity with which the high priest and the Jedi Master moved suggested that the reason for the meeting was most serious.

The entry of Daeshara’cor into the room, slipping through the hatchway after Luke and taking up a position beside Octa Ramis, likewise underscored the seriousness of the situation. Ever since Luke had arrived at Ithor, the Twi’lek Jedi had been kept secluded, at her request. He knew Luke had spent time with her, but he had offered no explanation for her search for superweapons.

Luke Skywalker stood before the two dozen Jedi and inclined his head toward them. “Brothers and sisters, Relal Tawron is here to prepare us for what will be our part in the coming struggle. Listen well to what he has to say. Though we are here to save Ithor, we could, through negligence, destroy it. That cannot happen.”

The Ithorian nodded acknowledgment of Luke’s words, then looked over the Jedi in silence for a moment. He interlaced his fingers and let his hands rest against his belly, then slowly began speaking in a voice that was as resonant as it was low.

“We welcome you, the Jedi, here, and thank you for what you will do for us. I speak not just as myself, but for the Mother Jungle above which we drift and for the Ithorian people. We are one and wish for your communion with us.”

He again studied the assembled Jedi. When his gaze fell upon Jacen, the young Jedi found a blush rising to his face. He knew of no reason he should feel ashamed, then realized that what embarrassed him was the sense of complete calm coming from the Ithorian. Jacen’s own wondering about his future ran smack up against a confidence in Tawron’s life and life choices. He feels about himself as I wish to feel about myself.

Relal Tawron opened his hands and spread his arms. “You all have heard that no one is allowed to set foot on Ithor. This statement is materially correct in its translation into Basic, but not absolutely true. We have pilgrims who do go down into our world, tending the forests, visiting sacred places from before technology allowed us to build floating cities, and to survey damage done after storms or fires. Before they make such journeys, they prepare themselves spiritually.

“You will journey to the surface if needs be. We wish, then, to prepare you, so you will accept the world as your mother, and the world will accept you as its children.” The high priest’s eyes blinked slowly. “In order to do this you need to become other than yourself. No one is allowed on the surface; those who are allowed are not themselves.”

Jacen frowned for a second, but caught a glimpse of Corran nodding to himself, so he assumed the mystery was not impenetrable. He recalled some of his early training in which he was required to open himself to the Force, to let go of himself so the Force could fill him. To become one with the Force, I had to become more than I had been before, but that meant casting off the image of who I thought I was.

“Each pilgrim, in making the journey to the Mother Jungle, wishes to become closer to the jungle. To facilitate change and growth, the pilgrim looks at pruning aspects of herself that keep her from being one with the world below. So it shall be with you. You must think upon that part of yourself that closes you in, and that is the part of yourself you need to modify. You will share those things.”

“Out loud?” Wurth Skidder, over next to Kyp Durron, shook his head. “This is a waste of time. We should be getting ready to fight the Vong.”

Luke frowned. “This is more important than that, Wurth.”

The Ithorian high priest pressed his hands together. “If you feel we are wasting your time, you may be excused.”

“What?!” Wurth folded his arms across his chest. “We’re here to save your world.”

“You need to save yourself first, Jedi.” The Ithorian spoke quietly from both sides of his mouth. “Until you wish to be saved, the Mother Jungle can do you no good.”

“I don’t under—”

Kyp laid his left hand against Wurth’s folded arms. “The confusion is ours. We understand, Relal Tawron, and will respect your customs.”

The Ithorian nodded assent, then spread his hands again. “The public declaration is meant to enlist everyone in aiding the pilgrim in making the transition toward unity with the jungle. In sharing the burden we, as diverse a community as the plants and creatures that make up the Mother Jungle, function together in a complex ecosystem. It is only through functioning together that we can succeed.”

Luke Skywalker turned toward the Ithorian. “If it would be permitted, I would like to go first.”

“We would be honored, Master Skywalker.”

“I renounce responsibility.” Luke’s eyes narrowed, and Jacen could feel shock rise from some of the other Jedi. “For a long time, I’ve felt weighed down by being sole heir to a Jedi tradition. I’ve cheated you. You’re all my coheirs. I know you’ll accept shares of the responsibility I’ve carried around with me. I have every confidence in you.”

A chill ran down Jacen’s spine. He’d never had any doubt that his uncle trusted him, but their relationship was more than student and Master. A lot of the trust bled over from the family ties. For the first time he caught a sense of what it might have been like to be Ganner or Corran or Daeshara’cor. Luke’s renunciation was a gift to them all, one that bound them together and tied them to the jungle.

The other Jedi began to make their own declarations. They came in no particular order, but were voiced as each person felt his time had come. Jacen listened to them, less trying to understand their words than marveling in the sense of peace their declarations seemed to kindle in them. He desperately sought that aspect of himself that locked him away from such peace, so he could feel inside how they felt.

Anakin surprised him by stepping forward fairly quickly. His little brother’s shoulders straightened, and his voice did not waver. “I give up self-assuredness. I want so much to be right, to do the right thing, that I don’t look to see if another answer would be a better answer. Judging yourself right is a destination. I’m just on a journey.”

At the far end of the line, Daeshara’cor looped one lekku back over her shoulder. “I renounce hatred. The description of the Yuuzhan Vong taking slaves made me hate them as I hated those who had enslaved my mother. That hatred made me do stupid things. No more. I will stop the Yuuzhan Vong because they must be stopped, but I will not hate them.”

“I’ll ditch fear.” Corran ran his left hand over his mouth. “All my life I’ve been afraid of failing—my father, my wife, my children, my friends, all of you—but no more. Failure is not part of the menu here, so fearing it, fearing anything else, is pointless.”

Ganner nodded once, sharply. “I can do without pride. It’s blinded me to many things, not the least of which is how deadly the Yuuzhan Vong can be. The jungle doesn’t need a blind guardian.”

Octa Ramis slipped past Daeshara’cor. “Mourning a friend the Vong took from me has blinded me. I’ll lay him to rest.”

Fear. Pride. Hatred. Even his brother’s retreat from assuming he knew more than he did. All of these things struck Jacen as laudable. Yet none of them is right for me, at least, not right now. He sighed, feeling a thousand questions bubbling up through his mind. Which one is right for me?

His jaw dropped open as his flesh puckered. As his surprise at the answer shook him, he almost laughed, though to do so would destroy the dignity of the ceremony. The simplicity of the answer astounded him, and yet the peace that settled over him as a result of discovering it almost made him giddy.

He stepped past Ganner and Anakin. “I renounce the need to know, now, what I will become later. In looking to my future, I have ignored the present and my role in it. The present is too critical for me to do that anymore.”

Even before his uncle nodded to him, a warmth had begun to spread from his heart throughout his body. He’d not abandoned his search for his place as a Jedi, just drained the urgency from it. That energy he redirected into his efforts to defend Ithor. The sense of well-being he had as a result left him no question that he’d made the right choice. I just have to hope I live long enough to continue on my path, be it a circle, or toward a goal.

The Jedi all went through their declarations. Wurth renounced weakness with a vehemence meant to hide his insecurities. Kyp rejected pride, using words meant to suggest that the glory of one was the glory of all. He clearly was trying to bring all the Jedi together, as Luke had done, but from Jacen’s new perspective the effort just seemed transparent.

Somehow Jacen knew that the high priest must have seen past the blinds Wurth, Kyp, and a few others raised, but the Ithorian gave no sign of it. “You Jedi, through your link with the Force, understand how life is woven together with life. You know how one thing touches another. Here, today, you are woven together with the Mother Jungle and the Ithorian people. Our fates are ever intertwined. We welcome your strength and sincerity. We offer you our support and love. As fibers woven are stronger than those alone, so shall we all be strong together, facing this threat.”

The Ithorian lowered his hands, then shook hands with the Jedi Master. Luke remained at the front of the room as Relal Tawron made for the egress hatchway. The Ithorian paused only once, to rest his hands on Daeshara’cor’s shoulders and whisper in her ear, then he exited the room.

Luke waited for the hatch to close behind the high priest, then stood there, shrouded in his cloak. “So you all know, our exact role in the fight has not been decided. From the computer system here you can pull an abstract of the various plans that have been floated for us. You can pretty much ignore any that were not initiated by Admirals Pellaeon or Kre’fey or by me. I will have assignments for us all.”

Kyp frowned. “You cede us responsibility, but we have no part in deciding how we will be used?”

The Jedi Master smiled easily. “To you, I ceded responsibility for your own actions. To the military, I have ceded responsibility for what we will do. How we accomplish their goals, this we will all have input on. They will decide what must be done, and we will decide how Jedi can best accomplish those tasks.”

He looked around the room. “That’s all for now. May the Force be with you.”

The Jedi broke down into little groups and slowly started to filter from the enclosed grove. Luke walked directly over toward Jacen and Anakin and opened his arms. He rested a hand on each of his nephews’ shoulders. “I’m very proud of the two of you. The things you said, well, as the high priest has said, the jungle is no place for children. What you said shows you’re not children.”

Jacen rested his right hand on his uncle’s mechanical one. “Thank you, Master.”

“Me, too, Uncle Luke, thanks.” Anakin smiled broadly at first, then composed his face much more solemnly. “I’m ready to do whatever you need me to do, no matter what.”

Ganner chuckled quietly. “Given your experience fighting the Yuuzhan Vong, perhaps you should be given command of our contingent.”

Luke arched an eyebrow. “I’m not sure that much responsibility should be placed on his shoulders just yet, but someday.”

Daeshara’cor cut through the crowd of other Jedi and paused a couple of meters shy of the group. “Master, if I could have a moment.”

Luke turned toward her. “Please, join us.”

“Yes, Master.” The woman approached, then looked down at her hands. Her lekku twitched ever so slightly, betraying her nervousness. “I just wanted to thank you for trusting me, inviting me here, allowing me to participate in this ceremony. I have been doing a lot of thinking—self-examination. Until asked to articulate things here, I had not understood exactly why I had done what I did, or what that was doing to me. I had allowed my hatred to make as much of a slave of me as my mother had been. I don’t regret opposing slavery, or opposing the Yuuzhan Vong, but I can’t do it for the wrong reasons. Winning or preserving freedom is good; seeking retribution is not.”

The Jedi Master nodded. “That’s a lesson we all need to keep in mind. I’m glad to have you back with us, Daeshara’cor. The struggle we’ll face will demand the best, and here, I think, we have the best.”

Corran, who had joined the group, sighed heavily. “We’ll just have to hope that our best is enough. I can’t shake the feeling the battle for Ithor will be the last for some of us. If we can’t stop them here, well, perhaps becoming one with the Mother Jungle won’t be the worst thing that could happen.”