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“And died.” I-Five bit the words off as if saying them was painful. “I lost your father because of his foolish human heroics. I will not—”

“Five,” Jax cut in. “If my father hadn’t indulged in his foolish human heroics, if he’d let you go with him, you wouldn’t have been on Drongar to get the bota … and you wouldn’t have been around to introduce me to him. Now let me finish this or we may find ourselves making small talk with the Inquisitors.”

The droid subsided with a series of grumbles worthy of Rhinann. For some reason, it made Jax want to laugh. For all the danger they faced—which he had insisted on being an active participant in—for all the complications they’d embroiled themselves in, he felt an absurd lightness of spirit.

It was due in part, of course, to Lorn Pavan’s ghost-image in I-Five’s holographic data files. He felt connected to that long-dead man. He was a member of a family. He had seen his father’s face, heard his voice, and what had always been an abstraction to him had become real.

It raised questions in his mind, to be sure. Questions about the real necessity of removing Padawans from their families and creating a completely new context for them. Why couldn’t the Jedi have family and Force? If they were successful in removing Palpatine—in killing Palpatine, he corrected, unwilling to indulge in euphemisms—might there be a future Jedi Order in which Padawans were allowed both? A future in which there was enough allowance for diversity that even Gray Paladins might be willing to proudly call themselves Jedi Knights?

I-Five said, “Are you finished with that? You’ve been staring at that generator for exactly seventeen-point-oh-two seconds. May I remind you that we were to meet Pol Haus at oh eight hundred hours?”

Jax looked down at the gleaming object in his palm. He hadn’t even noticed he’d removed it from the emitter array. He laughed.

“Yeah. Sorry. Lost in thought. I imagine Haus will wait for us if we’re a little late. After all, he’s kept us waiting on occasion.” Jax pocketed the generator and followed I-Five to the rear exit of the conapt—an antigrav lift that went straight up to the docking stations.

I-Five shot a look back over one shoulder, a maneuver that required him to pivot his head almost entirely to the rear. “I wouldn’t remind him of that if I were you.”

Kaj was happy just to be in motion again—to be able to use his arms and legs for more than fencing with the stinger droid. He had felt a little naked at first, strolling along between Rhinann and Dejah with not a single light sculpture in sight. In fact he had been certain they must have misunderstood Jax when he said he thought Kaj didn’t have to spend all his time in the light cage. But even the tired little Sullustan had been of the opinion that it was okay for him to poke his nose out and explore “the digs,” as he called them.

“But to go outside,” Kaj protested. “That’s not quite the same as just hanging out in here. I mean, in here I’m close enough to the shield to dive back inside.”

“Have you felt the need to dive back inside?” Dejah had asked him. “You’ve been working with the Force, using it, exercising it. My senses tell me you don’t feel the pressure you did to hold it in; that you aren’t so afraid of an explosion.” She’d smiled at him engagingly, and he had admitted that what she said was true.

And so Kaj let himself be talked into a sojourn to a small local bazaar where Dejah bought him roasted takhal nuts and some sweet ice to wash it down with. Rhinann, he understood, was using the opportunity to touch base with several of the team’s street contacts to gather intel about what had been going on in the Zi-Kree Sector where the Inquisitors still prowled.

Kaj found this all very exciting, and by the time they were making their way back up from the local marketplace, he had become quite comfortable.

Working with Jax was good for him, he realized; he was gaining not merely knowledge but a sense of belonging, a sense of purpose, even. He was on his way to becoming