CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Leia reached out and brushed hair from Anakin’s forehead, then moved away from her sleeping son. They’d found clothes for him easily enough, so he lay there attired in bits and pieces of uniforms from several of the freighter crews. Leia imagined that the offers had come initially because of the traders’ respect for who Anakin’s father was, but as the story of his flight with Mara into the mountains to the north spread through the camp, many viewed the boy as a hero in his own right.

She took one last look at him, lying there, with a small glow lamp casting golden highlights into his dark hair. Some bruising discolored his face, and scratches marked his forehead and neck, but otherwise he looked remarkably hearty. She’d watched a 2-1B droid work on him cleaning and closing a variety of cuts he’d earned in his running battle with the Yuuzhan Vong. Bacta patches had been used on the cuts and abrasions. When the droid set his wrist fracture from the final fight, a light splint to help immobilize the wrist was all that Anakin needed. Leia knew Mara had been similarly cut and wounded during their escape and had been treated by droids for her injuries. Leia awaited word from Luke on Mara’s condition.

Leia ducked her head beneath the edge of the tarp used to fashion a simple lean-to shelter for Anakin, then held it up as R2-D2 rolled in to keep an eye on the boy. She smiled at the droid, then let the tarp flop back down. The sun had not yet risen, but the winds from the north were picking up. She could see distant hints of clouds on the far horizon and assumed that by the next afternoon the showers that had plagued the northern continent would sweep down on them. We go from being hungry and miserable to wet, hungry, and miserable.

Elegos approached her and offered her a ration bar. “It would not do for you to faint from hunger.”

“Well, that ration bar will certainly kill my hunger.” Leia accepted it gratefully. “Anakin is sleeping. I don’t think he had much more than a couple of hours while on the run. If they’d not had the Force to sustain them . . .”

“Your son must be very strong in the Force to have done what he did.”

“Yes, I think so.” Leia felt a cold shiver run down her spine. “He’s so brave and was determined he’d not let his uncle down. He would do anything to make Luke proud of him.”

The Caamasi’s eyes slowly closed. “Perhaps you fear that with so much of the Force in him that, if frustrated, he might follow the path of his namesake.”

Leia glanced down, not daring to voice the answer to that question.

Elegos kept his voice low and soothing. “I have wondered, in the past, why you chose to name him after your father?”

She sighed. “My father, Anakin Skywalker—not Darth Vader—turned against the Emperor and was the agent of his death. He atoned for the evil he had done—perhaps not all of it in the eyes of some, but he prevented future evil being wrought by the Emperor. Part of me wanted to name my son for him to redeem the name. At least, that is what I told myself.”

“You have come to think differently on it now?”

Leia looked up at him. “You Caamasi are fortunate in that you can share memories between you. I have no clear memories of Anakin Skywalker—and my memories of Darth Vader are still the stuff of nightmares. I know that I contain part of Anakin in me, and I think it is the good parts of him that came through in Luke and me. But, I also know the darker parts of him are there, or could be there. In naming my youngest son for him, I was putting an innocence behind that name. All the things I saw in Anakin, I could imagine having come from his grandfather, through me.”

“You sought to purge your fears of Darth Vader and what you inherited of him by looking at Anakin as being what your father could have been and perhaps once was?”

She nodded. “Does that make any sense?”

“It does, very much. Countless are the parents who, because they were disappointed in their own parents, vow to bring their children up right. Perhaps you are trying to prove to yourself that under different circumstances your father never would have become Darth Vader.”

“You see a problem with that—”

“As do you.” Elegos smiled at her carefully. “If you didn’t, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“If I ever figure out how you get into my brain and present me with problems I don’t want to consider, I’ll . . . I’ll . . .”

“You’ll have little need for me, and my work will be done.”

Leia reached out and took Elegos’s right arm in her hands, then walked beside him as they strode through the camp. “I’ll always have need for friends like you.”

“I’m honored.”

“You should be more afraid. My friends tend to get into trouble.”

Elegos gestured broadly with his free hand. “Like this?”

“Pretty much.” Leia nodded at a few people, then looked up at the Caamasi. “I placed quite a burden on Anakin, didn’t I, by giving him that name.”

“He’s strong enough to accept that burden, Leia. He has you and the Jedi to sustain him and keep him on the straight and narrow.” Elegos patted her hands with his left hand. “Had he a bent for the dark side of the Force, he would have availed himself of it to save Mara Jade. He’s young, yet he has courage and intelligence. This is a time that will demand both. When the Yuuzhan Vong come, the slaughter on both sides will be staggering.”

Leia felt a slight shudder course through Elegos. “For a pacifist like you, this has to be horrible.”

“It is horrible for everyone, those who realize it and those who do not.” The Caamasi shook his head. “Were there a way to stave this off, I would try to avert it, but the Yuuzhan Vong seem content with probing and attacking. We don’t know why they are here or what they want. We don’t know if we can reason with them, and the fact that they seemed to play with Anakin and Mara does not bode well for our being able to reach mutual agreements on anything.”

“I find that frustrating, too. I believe in negotiating when possible, but when an enemy refuses, we have little choice in how to deal with them.” Leia frowned. “Where will you be during the assaults?”

“Your brother has consented to loan me Artoo, so I will be in the command shuttle, using the laser and blaster cannons.”

She stopped and swung around to face him. “But, from what you’ve said, killing will create a memory so horrible you will never forget it.”

The Caamasi’s reply came cold and solemn. “There will be no forgetting what will happen here, not for me, not for anyone who survives. The only thing that would make it worse is knowing that I did nothing to stop the slaughter. I can and will take responsibility for dealing death—and perhaps will fill a role that means others will not find themselves in that unenviable position. If I cannot spare myself that discomfort, I can take solace in what I spare others from.”

“You know that’s how I feel.”

“You’ve proved it many times, and now your children show this courage has bred true.”

“I guess it has.” She gave Elegos a smile. “So, when you’re out there shooting, just aim a bit high so we don’t get in your way.”

Luke slowly seated himself on his wife’s bunk aboard the Courage. When her eyes fluttered open, he raised a finger to his lips. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s okay.” Her voice came a bit hoarsely and remained a whisper. “I’ve been sleeping too much lately.”

“You’ve been under a lot of stress. The illness . . .”

She nodded slowly but not weakly, and that heartened Luke. Even when he’d found her close to complete collapse there in the mountains, she would not let him carry her and even made a weak attempt at demanding that she be allowed to copilot the blastboat. She refused to admit defeat or acknowledge any weakness.

Luke found this a great comfort, and it took him a moment or two to determine why. His aunt Beru had been utterly unlike Mara save in one aspect: She was a hardened survivor. Living on Tatooine required that of people. If you were inclined toward being soft or weak, the desert world dried you out, sanded you down to your bones, then buried you. Everyone he had known as he grew up had prided themselves in defying the planet every single day, and that inspired in him an appreciation of that survival sense.

Mara drew a small bottle from the shelf at the head of the bunk and drank some water. A droplet coursed down from the corner of her mouth. She tried to get it with a swipe of her hand, but missed.

Luke leaned forward and brushed it away with a finger. She caught his hand in hers, then raised his fingers to her lips. She kissed them, once, then clutched his hand against her breastbone. “I never doubted I would get out of those mountains. When I saw you . . . I thought poor Anakin . . .” Her grip tightened on his hand. “I’m so thankful you saved him.”

“The least I could do for his saving you.” Luke sighed. “I should have known better than to have you go to Dantooine. Ithor is farther back from the Rim. It would have been safer.”

Mara sipped a bit more water. “Would it?”

“What do you mean?”

She scrunched the pillow up behind her and pulled herself into a semisitting position. “The Yuuzhan Vong were at Dubrillion and Belkadan. They are here at Dantooine. My guess is that they’ve hit other worlds, too. Either scouts or lots of troops. The whole of the Rim could be down.”

“You’re right. We don’t know how far they’ve penetrated the galaxy. If they are as far as Ithor . . .” Luke shuddered. If the Yuuzhan Vong could reach Ithor, they would have carved a fairly wide swath through the galaxy and would be in a position to threaten many of the key Core worlds. Conquer them and the New Republic’s economy would die. If that happened, the New Republic’s constituent states would begin to look to each other for support, and the New Republic would fragment.

“If they are as far as Ithor, we’re going to die right here, because there will be no help coming for us.”

“We’re not going to die here.”

“Is that a vision?”

“A hope, actually.” Luke sighed. “We’ve got a decent defensive perimeter set up here, with heavy weapons placed well. We can hold out for a while.”

Her green eyes all but glowed. “For how long? The refugees were brought here because the ships didn’t have enough supplies to last for the journey from Dantooine to other civilized worlds. Do we hold on until food gets critical? What if the Yuuzhan Vong attack and slaughter enough people that food isn’t a problem anymore?”

“I don’t know. No one is thinking like that right now.”

Mara arched an eyebrow at him. “No one is, or you aren’t? You think your sister isn’t?”

“Maybe she is, but I have other things—” He smiled as he looked down at her. “Mara, you’re my primary concern here. I love you, and your condition is not good. I spoke with Anakin, and he said you were getting weaker.”

She nodded. “I was. Anakin suggested the disease responds to something having to do with the Yuuzhan Vong.”

“You said you felt a connection between the disease and the beetles on Belkadan.”

“Yes, I did. I feel a distant one here, and I know I’ve felt it before.” She sighed. “That’s not why I was getting weaker, though.”

“No?” Luke frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“Neither did I until the Yuuzhan Vong found us and we started running.” Mara stroked the back of Luke’s hand with her thumb. “After the events on Belkadan and Dubrillion, I did need to recover. You were right to send me away to do so, but we both made the mistake of thinking a little rest would become a cure. This disease feels as if it is slowly cutting me off from the Force. Only by drawing the Force to me am I able to combat it, and this is where we made our mistake.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“It’s twisted, but you’ll get it, my love.” She smiled and kissed his hand again. “The Force, as you have defined it, is an energy field that surrounds us, penetrates us, and binds us with all things.”

“Except, apparently, the Yuuzhan Vong.”

“That exception aside, when we are able to access the Force, it makes us stronger. We are able to draw power from it.”

The Jedi Master nodded. “On Belkadan, I drew on the Force very little except when I needed to rescue Jacen.”

Mara smiled adoringly at him. “I do want to hear the story of that fight, Luke.”

“When you are rested.”

She shook her head. “No, that’s the problem. I’ve had too much rest.”

“Mara, you’re having a hard time sitting up. You need more rest.”

“No, I need to get back to who I am and how I interact with the Force.” She snorted a quick laugh. “You remember me when we first met? You remember how I was?”

“Trying to kill me to comply with the Emperor’s last command.”

“Right. Luke, I’m a fighter. I’ve always been a fighter. The few times when I have been at leisure, I’ve been miserable. I want challenges, I crave them. As nice and peaceful as it was up north here, it lulled me, dulled me, took the edge off. Anakin made it so I had no needs, and Dantooine—before the Yuuzhan Vong—had nothing more dangerous than big thorns to worry about. I was wasting away, trying to conserve my strength, all the while turning away from the means I’d used in the past to tap the Force.”

Mara gazed up into Luke’s eyes, and he could feel their personal bond and connection strengthening. He got past the fatigue to the image of Mara that existed deep in the woman’s psyche. This Mara, strong of limb and sharp of eye, wore armor, sported blasters, and looked like someone who could take a Death Star apart from the inside out.

“That’s who I am, Luke. When Anakin and I had to run, I felt exhausted, physically, but I was stronger in the Force. I was able to repair some of the damage the disease had done. I realized that’s the most insidious nature of the disease. Many people, when they become sick, retreat to their childhood and being helpless. They abandon who they have become and their place in the web that is the Force, then the disease severs those final connections and they die.”

Luke watched for a moment, then frowned. “So you’re telling me that no matter how tired you are, that letting you fight against the Yuuzhan Vong will make you stronger.”

“As long as I’m fighting, I’m not dying.”

He shivered. “I’m not sure I like the cure, but I like the disease less.”

“You’ll let me fight?”

“Despite my being a Jedi Master, I don’t think I could stop you.”

Mara laughed, and the rich sound of her voice poured like balm into Luke’s ears. “Other men could have said that, but none of them would have meant it. I am so glad I found you and didn’t kill you.”

“Both of those things thrill me, too.” Luke glanced at a bulkhead chronometer. “I don’t know when they’ll come, but you might want to sleep until then.”

“I think I’d rather spend the time with my husband.” Mara reached up and grabbed a handful of Luke’s tunic, then pulled his face down to hers and kissed him. “Stay here with me. Tell me a story of Belkadan and a Jedi Master with two blades. Spending time with my husband is the best medicine on Dantooine, and I will gladly take as much as you can spare.”