Star Wars_ Coruscant Nights III_ Patterns of Force - Michael Reaves [15]
Tuden Sal turned to look up at the Jedi. “What does she mean—your personal feelings?”
Jax opened his mouth to answer, but I-Five beat him to the draw. “There is every chance that Emperor Palpatine—though only a Senator at the time—ordered his father’s death. I should think you’d know that better than anyone here,” he added wryly. “After all, you were the last person to see him alive. He must have told you what he was planning to do after he turned me off.”
The Sakiyan’s bronze skin darkened further—a dusky flush rising from his neck to his cheeks. “He was going after the Zabrak. I figured then—”
“That he was as good as dead?” asked I-Five.
“I don’t excuse my behavior,” Sal returned with some asperity. “What I did then was stupid, shortsighted, and, yes, a betrayal of a good friend. What I do now is in aid of making up for it.”
“My father is dead—” Jax began.
“Which nothing I did or did not do could have changed. Regardless of my actions, Lorn Pavan would have gone after the Sith and died. Even had he not, Palpatine or his acolyte would have eventually learned he was still alive, and killed him. Believe me—that’s the way these people are. If I’ve learned nothing else, I’ve learned that.” Sal shook his head. “My people’s ancestors were warriors, but they can’t match—no one in the galaxy can match—humans for sheer bloodthirstiness. “That said …” Tuden Sal hesitated, seeming to age by a decade in the measure of breaths he took. “If I had taken I-Five to the Jedi as promised, it is possible …” His voice faltered to a stop.
“That the Jedi might not have been destroyed,” Jax finished for him. “That all of galactic history might have been changed for the better by one small action of yours.”
“Yes.” Sal’s voice was very soft.
There was a moment of silence in which Dejah Duare looked from the Sakiyan to Jax to I-Five with an expression of incredulity on her pretty face. When she spoke, her words seemed to be for Jax alone. “Well, there it is. Yet another good reason not to involve yourself in this absurd, hopeless plot. For all you know you could be the last Jedi on the planet.”
Jax shook his head. “I’m not.”
“The last real Jedi, then. Yes, I know you think the world of the Twi’lek, but she’s not Temple-trained.”
“That doesn’t make her less a Jedi.”
Dejah blinked at him, obviously taken aback. “That’s irrelevant. You’re missing my point—or dodging it intentionally. If this plot were to be discovered and I-Five captured, it would lead straight back to you. It might enable the Emperor to snuff out the light of the Jedi entirely.”
“The light of the Jedi?” Jax repeated. “Is that what I’m supposed to be? Well then, should I hide out, doing nothing, until I die at a ripe old age … having done nothing?”
“New Force-sensitives will be born,” said I-Five philosophically. “Someone has to train them if they are not to fall to the dark side.”
Jax looked up, startled.
By the nine gods of fury, Rhinann thought, has he really never contemplated that before? Or did it just stun him coming from a soulless hunk of metal?
“Which,” I-Five continued, “is all the more reason that, if I were to undertake this … mission, you should be as far away from me as possible.”
Rhinann blinked at the tone of the droid’s voice. Was that really wistfulness? The shadow of impending loss? He shook himself. “I think it’s all the more reason,” he said to I-Five, “for you to forgo this ‘mission’ and do what you’re best at: watching his back.” He tilted his horned head toward Jax.
Tuden Sal cleared his throat. “As I-Five so aptly pointed out, he is an independent being.”
“With an OFF switch,” muttered the Elomin.
“An independent being,” repeated Sal, “with the capacity to make his own decisions.”
I-Five turned to Jax. “I do have that capacity, but in this case I’d like to hear the opinions of all concerned parties. Especially yours, Jax. In making this decision, I’ll give your vote the most weight.”
“Vote?” Dejah