Star Wars_ Fate of the Jedi 01_ Outcast - Aaron Allston [34]
Hamner nodded. “I'll set up an account for you. Not a drawing account, as that would be proof of Jedi Order support after your sentence begins. A sum constituting forty-three standard years' of back pay, I think.”
Luke smiled, amused. “And please, bank it out of some world that is not part of the Galactic Alliance, or likely to join it anytime soon.”
“Consider it done. You'll have all the details in hand by breakfast.”
“That's all I have to say.” Luke looked among the Masters. Sadness threatened to descend on him, to constrict his heart, but he kept it at bay by an act of will. “Any issues I need to address as Grand Master, you need to bring to me as soon as possible.”
Kyp Durron nodded. “We'll sort it out.”
Cilghal was the first to rise. As she approached Luke, her action acted as a signal to the others, who all got to their feet. She enfolded Luke for a brief moment in her rubbery arms. “We will keep your home for your return,” she told him. “May the Force be with you, always and everywhere.”
Walking with Luke back to their quarters, Ben said, “I'm going with you.”
Luke managed another smile. “I don't think so.”
“Why not?”
“Well, first, you're not a convicted felon and don't need to serve the sentence of one. Second, no teenager I ever knew, myself included, could survive being in the constant company of a parent for ten years.”
“I have you on a point of logic.” Ben raised a finger, looking ridiculously like a Jedi Master addressing a roomful of younglings. “No teenager can remain one for ten years.”
“Conceded. Still, Ben, I think you should stay here.”
Ben's jaw set. Now, as was often the case whenever his tendency toward stubbornness hit him, he truly resembled his mother. “You're my Master, I'm your student.”
“You're a full Jedi Knight now, even if there are plenty of places in the galaxy where you can't legally vote or drink. Surely you didn't forget your promotion. You only talked about it for two years.”
“I wasn't that bad. And you're a rank above Master, so you should have a student a rank above apprentice.”
“Interesting logic.”
“Dad, this is my mission, too.” Ben's voice was suddenly no longer that of a wheedling teen. “I was Jacen's apprentice. In the end, he tortured me, tried to make me a Sith. He killed Mom. Do you think I'm going to be able to rest, ever, without understanding why?”
Luke fell silent as he considered Ben's words. Not speaking, they rode the turbolift down to the upper residential level. As they reached their door, Luke came to a decision. “You're right. Pack up and make your farewells.”
Ben sagged in relief. “Thank you, Dad.”
The next morning, Luke reflected that one of the virtues of living as a Jedi was that packing was really easy. A lightsaber, a bag for a few changes of clothes, his kit of tools, parts, and meters for maintaining his artificial hand, a datapad stuffed with data and popular literature, and not only was he packed but his quarters were almost empty as well. He looked around his bedchamber and found it nearly bare; all that remained were shelf items, holos of his life with Mara, knick-knacks acquired during his years of travel or sent to him by admirers, a few articles of clothing he had decided to leave behind.
The thought that the room might remain empty, unchanged, for the entirety of his sentence—or that the room might be needed and reassigned, with the remainder of his things swept into a small bag and stored, scrubbing his presence out of the Temple like one last stain—was depressing. He had to go, and soon, and that fact alone was enough to make him want to stay.
His door chimed. He called, “Enter,” and moved into the small living chamber.
The main door slid open, revealing Cilghal. The Mon Cal Master nodded her respects. She entered, allowing the door to shut behind her. “When not studying Valin's test results, I have spent time in the last few days looking for references to odd behavior matching Valin's or Seff's. And