• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

Now Luke closed the gap between him and the Barabel, although he still did not touch her. “He died performing his duty, Saba. He fought what he believed with all his heart was the good fight. There could have been no other outcome.”

“You would have found one,” Saba said quietly.

Luke considered that. In a way, the statement could be true. Perhaps he could have intercepted Kenth earlier, or won the fight sooner, or thought to post double guards around the deposed Grand Master.

“There have been hundreds—probably thousands—of times in my life when I thought, If only. And there will probably be more. But I know them for what they are—useless exercises. Jedi can’t allow themselves to overindulge in if-onlys. Regret, reflection on a situation in order to learn from it—that is what if-onlys are for. Would I have found a different path? Perhaps. But I wasn’t there. You were. Could you have done otherwise and still have been true to yourself?”

Saba’s eyes lit with understanding, and she considered a long moment. “No,” she said at last. The single word was hard for her to utter, but he sensed a lifting of her spirit in the Force. “This one … could have done nothing else.”

“Then be content,” Luke said. “Saba Sebatyne. You have been judged by the Grand Master. I find no fault here—not with you, not with any of your decisions, nor with the other Masters for following your orders. Jedi are supposed to protect the weak and helpless. You were right to support those trying to win basic rights for their people. To stop the abuse of sentient beings. To send the fleet to Pydyr to fight the Sith. Even to topple Daala. Those were the acts of a Jedi, and they were necessary. But you know that the Jedi Order’s place is not to rule.”

She had straightened more with each passing word, and now she seemed almost her old self again. Saba Sebatyne was nothing if not strong and great of heart. Luke knew that a huge burden had been eased, and that with time, she would come to know as he did—know, not just believe—that she had led the Jedi well during a time of extreme duress.

“Grand Master Skywalker speakz truly, as alwayz,” Saba said.

“There is much I need to tell everyone,” said Luke.

A hint of humor gleamed in Saba’s eyes. “This one thinkz that Master Skywalker’z wordz are an understatement,” she said.

“This one thinks you’re right.” Luke grinned. “Now—let’s get this meeting started. I sense there are several people outside eager to come in.”

Saba sissed, her Force presence easing by the moment. “You did not need to use the Force to know that, Grand Master.”

“Who says I did?” Luke said. He turned his attention to those gathered outside and sent them a warm, heartfelt welcome. The door slid open and many voices spoke at once.

“Master Skywalker!” exclaimed Cilghal, her rasping voice as pleased as he had ever heard it.

“Luke!” This from Kyp Durron, never one for formalities. The younger Master rushed forward to clasp Luke’s arms. Kyle Katarn clapped him warmly on the back. Corran Horn stood off to the side, grinning and looking like his old self again despite the new crow’s-feet framing his eyes. Octa Ramis and the newest member, Barratk’l, inducted during Luke’s absence by Kenth Hamner, were also present and beaming at him.

Luke was poignantly reminded of his departure from the Temple; of the crowd of beings who had lined up to bid him a sorrowful farewell. He thought of Kenth Hamner’s arm around his shoulders as he viewed those assembled, and that man’s words: Forty years ago, there was one practicing Jedi in the galaxy, and the Order and the Temple were just ill-formed notions taken from suppressed rumors. Today, what you see before you—this is your doing, Master Skywalker. And even as he permitted himself to miss and remember Kenth and that moment, the heaviness in the room lightened. There was much that awaited them all, and the danger posed by both the Sith and Abeloth had not decreased in the slightest. Yet Luke felt buoyed, refreshed simply