Star Wars_ The New Jedi Order 06_ Balance Point - Kathy Tyers [31]
“Instead of stuck here, taking care of helpless folks?” Clarani put in. “Think again, young woman. Who were you fighting to save? You’re not out there playing death-tag for fun and excitement.”
“True.” To Jacen’s surprise, Jaina’s voice sank. “And I worry … a little … that when I get back in an X-wing, I’ll punk out.”
“Not you,” Jacen said.
“It’s different now.” She laced her fingers on the lap of her dark gray coverall. “Did they tell you I lost Sparky?”
“No.” Jacen turned toward the Ryn woman. “Sparky was her personal droid. She’s had him—”
“A while,” Jaina said. “Long enough to start depending on him. I know they’re just mechanical, but … he was great.” Her shoulders slumped.
Jacen shook his head.
“Never having owned a droid,” the Ryn woman said, “I might not seem sympathetic. But we’ll all lose more than we already have, before all this is over.”
“You ended up EV?” Jacen asked.
Jaina nodded.
He compressed his lips. Losing a fighter around you and going extravehicular did terrible things to the comforting illusions that kept fighter pilots rushing into those cockpits. At the back of their minds, it was always the other guy who got shot up—the one who just wasn’t as quick, or as good in a clinch shot, or as sharp-eyed. He stared at Jaina’s mask.
“Want dinner?” he asked. “Part of the stink is what we’ll eat tonight.”
Jaina shook her head. “My day cycle just shifted. It’s almost midnight where I’ve been. I just want to sleep.
“Do me a favor,” she added, looking straight at him. Jacen felt her emotions shift subtly. “I want to spend the night in a healing trance. Give me a push. I can’t get as deep as I want, without you.”
He hesitated.
“I know,” she said. He had the sense that her stare, such as it was, didn’t waver. “The whole galaxy knows you’ve been trying not to use the Force. This is me, your sister. I need to get well.”
“You’re right.” Embarrassed, he shoved his reluctance aside. “I’ll help. But you need to know that it’s gotten worse.”
“Why?” she demanded. When she tilted her head up and frowned, she looked almost exactly like their mom.
“I saw … this vision.” He described it for her.
She listened, nodding—but she asked again for his help. He couldn’t refuse. Soon she lay in a deep healing subsleep, her chest rising and falling so slowly that a stranger might have worried that she wasn’t breathing.
But when he looked with his spirit, he saw that her legs, right side, and left hand were all targets of an intense effort. Around and through her eyes, energy flowed with particular intensity. Bacta, that miraculous microscopic healer, had done such a good job on her tissue injuries that she wouldn’t have any visible scars. She wouldn’t limp much longer, either.
I’d be a good healer, he complained to himself, but he knew the answer to that. Just because he was skilled in an area, that didn’t make it the call on his life. People who told him he was lucky to be so broadly “gifted” didn’t have to make his decisions.
The next morning, he spotted her ambling up the alley, trailing one hand along the rough wall of the nearest hut. He grabbed her other hand and guided her to a mess area. Ryn of all ages congregated around five females with site-built cooking pots. Jaina sniffed the air.
Jacen touched her elbow and guided her to a place in line. “Looks like—” He glanced into the nearest pot. “Mm, breakfast phraig.” He lowered his voice and muttered in Jaina’s ear, “SELCORE must’ve gotten a contract for some planet’s entire phraig harvest …” He trailed off as the nearby cook spotted them.
“The Rogue pilot,” she exclaimed.
Up and down the serving line, Ryn heads turned. Two leather-winged Vors stared down pointed faces. A family of humans set their trays aside and applauded.
Jaina’s lips twisted.
“You to the front of the line, missy,” the cook said. “Maybe we can’t do anything for your wingmates, but you tell them—when you get back—that Camarata said thank you.”
When