Star Wars_ I, Jedi - Michael A. Stackpole [214]
The Saarai-kaar, when she regained consciousness, seemed truly surprised to be alive. The fact that her students had not been slain and had been allowed to retain custody of their armor and lightsabers clearly confused her. As she sat up on the couch to which she had been carried in the Governor’s private chambers, she looked at her students, then at Luke, Elegos and finally me.
“Is this how you choose to mock me, Halcyon?” She waved a hand at her students. “You have them here to show me that you have won them over to your murderous ways?”
Her orienting on me confused me, since Luke was clearly the Master here. I shook my head. “If my ways were the ways of a murderer, why would you be alive?”
“You like to torture us before you slay us. You call yourselves Jedi, but your kind parted from the true Jedi ways a generation ago, and then some. And those who rose up in your place were no better.” She lifted her chin, her blue eyes fiery and bright. “We are the true Jedi, the Jensaarai. You tried before to destroy us, but failed.”
I frowned. “I’ve never seen you before. I’ve never been here before, and I’ve certainly never tried to harm you or your people before.”
“Just like a Halcyon to deny the evil he has inherited.”
I looked to Luke. “I’m not tracking here.”
“Neither am I.”
Elegos rested hands on our shoulders. “Perhaps you would permit me.”
I shrugged. “Set a course and go.”
The Caamasi moved forward and dropped to one knee before the Saarai-kaar. “The Jensaarai are your creation. You fashioned them and their teachings from what you yourself had learned when you trained.” Elegos kept his voice low and respectful, probing, but gentle and reassuring. “You are the first Saarai-kaar, but you hold dearly to the memories of others, to honor them and their sacrifice.”
She blinked her eyes a couple of times, then bowed her head. “Yes, this is so.”
I glanced down as factoids began to slot together for me. When she’d had me at her mercy, I’d projected Tyris’ image from my dream into her brain because I had recognized her fighting style as that of the Anzati Jedi. I’d done it instinctively and had missed entirely the significance of her saying “Master?” as she hesitated. She was looking at me, seeing my uniform, my silver blade, and seeing me as my grandfather or clearly someone who had come to finish what Nejaa Halcyon had started. Try as I might, though, I searched my memory of the dream and could not place her in it.
Elegos pressed his hands together. “These you honor were your teachers and friends. Their deaths you blame on a Halcyon and other Jedi, one very much like me, yes?”
An edge returned to her voice. “I do.” She thrust a finger at me. “It was a Halcyon who slew my Master and my husband that day, and retreated to leave us alone. They did not care for us, for the damage they had done. They were supposed to serve all life and living creatures, but they deserted us, proving the lie of the Jedi. We had already known—our Masters had told us—that we were a breed apart. The advent of the Jedi here on Susevfi merely proved all they had taught was true.”
Luke opened his hands. “Truth is often a matter of point of view.”
Anger flashed through the Saarai-kaar’s eyes. “You were not there. You have no point of view.”
I was about to mention my dream, but Elegos reached out and placed a hand on her knee. “But I do. I would share it with you.”
She looked sharply at Elegos. “You were not the Jedi there that day.”
“No, I was not, but I will share with you a secret—I will give you my trust that you may return it. I know you do not want to hurt anyone, which is why I can trust you. I would have you accept my trust so you