Star Wars_ The New Jedi Order 06_ Balance Point - Kathy Tyers [16]
If the Jedi couldn’t work together, they would be vaped separately, or tumble one by one to the dark side.
Seven Jedi had circled their chairs deep in central Coruscant’s governmental district this morning, a few meters from a balcony overlooking a bustling mezzanine. A fountain bubbled nearby, looking and sounding like something out of the Empire’s glory days …
The days when she’d been the Emperor’s Hand. She carried around plenty of regret from those days, things she wished she’d never seen or done. But she’d made her peace. She’d given up the one thing dearest to her, her ship, Jade’s Fire. In its place, she’d received … well …
Enough.
Again she eyed Luke and Anakin. Whenever she saw those two together, she glimpsed two outward reflections of the same inner strength. They had the same compact build, though Anakin hadn’t finished fleshing out—and those matching poke-mark clefts in their chins—but most telling of all, those terminally earnest attitudes.
Colonel Kenth Hamner, a strikingly tall human Jedi with a long, aristocratic face, served the New Republic’s military as a strategist. He shook his head and said, “With Fondor’s shipyards gone and the hyperspace routes mined, we’re pulling in from the Inner Rim, even the Colonies. Rodia is in serious danger. Thank the Force, Anakin brought Centerpoint back up—”
Anakin leaned forward, gripping his hands as he interjected, “As long as we don’t lose Corellia. Thrackan’s likely to expel all the Drall and Selonians, declare Corellia a human-only zone, and lock out the rest of us, if we let him.”
Mara knew Anakin well, so she could imagine the thoughts he didn’t speak: Because I didn’t fire Centerpoint when I could have. Now Thrackan’s a hero, no matter how many bystanders he killed … With Governor-general Marcha kicked out of office, Thrackan and the Centerpoint Party were making a strong bid for power at Corellia.
Kenth Hamner shook his head. “Don’t blame yourself, Anakin. A Jedi must keep his power under control. We have to hesitate and consider the consequences. You couldn’t hurry to fire Centerpoint, and you did well. Maybe Centerpoint will be the Core’s last defense, if we can get it repaired. From there, we could defend the shipyards at Kuat and protect Coruscant.”
“True,” Luke told Hamner. A new wave of yorik coral warships had hit the Corellian Run, near Rodia. Anakin’s sister, Jaina—Mara’s apprentice—had deployed with Rogue Squadron toward that front, and with so many Yuuzhan Vong between them, it was difficult to sense her through the Force. Yuuzhan Vong somehow damped it down.
Bothawui, though—between the embattled Hutts and threatened Rodia—clearly was endangered. The last time Mara had heard of Kyp Durron, he’d parked Kyp’s Dozen near Bothawui, spoiling for a fight and expecting it right there.
Mara had just about had it with Kyp Durron. She noted, though, the way Kenth Hamner deferred to Anakin. Anakin had saved her life on Dantooine, where Yuuzhan Vong warriors chased them for days while her mysterious disease slowly sapped her strength. Since the fall of Dubrillion, since the retreat at Dantooine—and especially since Centerpoint—strangers saluted barely-sixteen-year-old Anakin in Coruscant’s Grand Corridor. Vendors of exotic delicacies offered him samples, and supple Twi’lek women twitched their long lekku when he passed.
Luke also wore a Jedi robe today, almost the shade of Tatooine sand. So did Cilghal, the Mon Calamari healer, who sat bowing her massive head over salmon-shaded, webbed hands. She’d brought along her new apprentice, quiet little Tekli. Tekli, a Chadra-Fan with marginal Force talent, seemed perpetually wide-eyed. Her large, fan-shaped ears swiveled whenever an atmospheric craft passed their balcony.
These days were growing long for the healers. Cilghal had confided that they were seeing