Star Wars_ Darth Bane 01_ Path of Destruction - Drew Karpyshyn [129]
Yet if he gave up now, would it make any difference? If he ordered his troops to retreat, to evacuate the planet in Farfalla’s ships, would anything change? If he stepped aside and left the burden of battling the Sith—here on Ruusan or elsewhere in the galaxy—to another, would he finally find peace? Or would he simply be betraying all those who had believed in him?
To disband the Army of Light now, while the Brotherhood of Darkness still existed, dishonored the memory of all those who had perished in the conflict. To press on meant many more would surely die—and he himself might be lost to the light forever.
He lay back down and closed his eyes again. But sleep would not come.
“When all the options are wrong,” he muttered to himself in the darkness, “what does it matter which one I choose?”
“When the way before you is not clear,” an ethereal voice answered, “let your actions be guided by the wisdom of the Force.”
Hoth snapped his head up to peer through the darkness of the tent. A figure was just barely visible in the shadows, standing on the other side.
“Pernicar!” he exclaimed, then suddenly asked, “Is this real? Or am I actually sound asleep in my cot, and all this nothing but a dream?”
“A dream is only another kind of reality,” Pernicar said with an amused shake of his head. He crossed the tent slowly, moving closer. As he approached, Hoth realized he could actually see through him.
The apparition settled itself on the cot. The springs didn’t creak; it was as if he had no weight or substance at all.
This had to be a dream, Hoth realized. But he didn’t want to wake. Instead he clung desperately to the chance to see his old friend again, even if it was just an illusion conjured up by his own mind. “I’ve missed you,” he said. “Your counsel, your wisdom. I need them now more than ever.”
“You were not so eager to listen to me when I was alive,” the Pernicar of his dream replied, striking at the most secret guilt and regrets buried deep in Hoth’s subconscious. “There was much you could have learned from me.”
A funny thought struck the general. “Was I your Padawan all this time, Master Pernicar? So young and foolish that I didn’t even know you were trying to instruct me in the ways of the Force?”
Pernicar laughed lightly. “No, General. Neither one of us is young—though we both have had more than our share of foolish moments.”
Hoth nodded somberly. For a moment he said nothing, just enjoying Pernicar’s presence once again, even if he was only here in spirit. Then, knowing there must be some purpose to this elaborate charade his subconscious had created for him, he asked, “Why have you come?”
“The Army of Light is an instrument of good and justice,” Pernicar told him. “You fear you may have lost your way, but look to the Force and you will know what you must do to find it again.”
“You make it sound so simple,” Hoth said with a slight shake of his head. “Have I really fallen so far that I cannot even remember the most basic teachings of our order?”
“There is no shame in falling,” Pernicar said, standing up. “There is only shame if you refuse to rise once again.”
Hoth sighed heavily. “I know what I must do, but I lack the tools to do it. My troops are on the verge of collapse: exhausted and outnumbered. And the other Jedi no longer believe in our cause.”
“Farfalla still does,” Pernicar noted. “Though you had your differences, he was always loyal.”
“I think I’ve driven Farfalla away for good,” Hoth admitted. “He wants nothing more to do with the Army of Light.”
“Then why are his ships still in orbit?” Pernicar countered. “You drove him away with your anger, and he fears you may have fallen to the dark side. Show him this is not so and he will follow you again.”
Pernicar took a step back. Hoth could sense himself beginning