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And those were only the physical injuries. They would heal.

The nonphysical injuries-to his confidence, his principles, his moral certainties... to his heart-Those couldn't be treated with spray bandages and a bacta patch.

Behind him, Nick's pacing had scuffed a path through the thin layer of dirt to the stone of the cave floor. He picked up his rifle from where it leaned against the wall, checked the action for the dozenth time, and set it back down again. He did the same with the slug pistol holstered at his thigh, then looked around for something else to do. Not finding anything, he went back to pacing. "How much longer?"

"Not long."

"That's what you said the last three times I asked."

"I suppose it depends on what you mean by long."

"You sure she's coming?"

"Yes," Mace lied.

"What if they get here before she does? I mean, we're not gonna have time to lag around waiting for her-not with gunships and who-knows-what-all tracking the lander through the atmosphere. If she's not here-"

"We'll worry about that if it happens."

"Yeah." Nick started pacing from the back to the front of the cave, instead of side to side. "Yeah."

"Nick."

"Yeah?"

"Settle down."

The young Korun stopped, winced an apology at Mace, adjusted his tunic, and ran his thumbs around the drawstring waistband of his pants as though they were chafing him. "I don't like waiting."

"I've noticed."

Nick squatted alongside the Jedi Master and nodded at the data-pad. "Got any games on that thing? Shee, I'd even play dejarik. And I hate dejarik."

Mace shook his head. "It's my journal."

"I've seen you talking into it. Like a diary?"

"Something like that. It's a personal log of my experiences on Haruun Kal. For the Temple Archives."

"Wow. Am I'm there?"

"Yes. And Chalk, and Besh, and Lesh. Depa and Kar Vaster, and the children from the outpost-"

"Wow," Nick repeated. "I mean, wow. That's really cool. Do all Jedi do that?"

Mace stared out over the rugged terrain below the pass. "I don't think Depa has." He sighed, and once more stopped himself from checking the sky. "Why do you ask?"

"It's just-well, it's weird, y'know? Thinking about it. I'm gonna be in the Jedi Archives..."

"Yes."

"Twenty-five thousand years of records. It's like-like I'll be part of the history of the whole galaxy!"

"You would be, regardless."

"Oh, yeah, sure, I know: everybody is. But not everybody's in the Jedi Archives, are they? I mean, my name'll be there forever. It's like being immortal..."

Mace thought of Lesh, and of Phloremirlla Tenk. Of Terrel and Rankin. Of corpses burned to namelessness, left on the ground at the outpost.

"It is," he said slowly, "as close to immortality as any of us will ever come."

"Could I listen to some?" Nick tried an encouraging nod. "Not like I'm nosy or anything. But it'd pass the time-"

"Are you certain you want to know what I think of you?"

"Sure I'm-why? Is it bad?" he asked with an anticipatory wince. "It's really bad, isn't it."

"I am teasing you, Nick. I can't play it for you. It's encrypted, and only the archive masters at the Temple have the code key."

"What, you can't even listen to it yourself?"

Mace hefted the datapad in his hand; it seemed such a small, insubstantial thing, to carry so much doubt and pain.

"Not only does encryption keep its contents secure, it protects me from the temptation to go back and edit entries to make myself look better."

"You'd do that?"

"The opportunity has not presented itself. If I had the chance... I can't really say. I hope that I would resist. But Jedi or not, I am still human." He shrugged. "I should make a last entry, preparatory to my formal report to the Council on our return to Coruscant."

"Can I listen?"

"I suppose you can. I have nothing to say that you don't already know."

FROM THE PRIVATE JOURNALS OF MACE WlNDU [FINAL HARUUN KAL ENTRY]

Major Rostu and I wait in a cave at the Korun base in the Lorshan Pass; Depa-[Male voice identified as NICK