Star Wars_ The New Jedi Order_ Dark Tide 02_ Ruin - Michael A. Stackpole [120]
Fey’lya blinked his violet eyes, then glanced at Luke. “Master Skywalker, order him to leave off from this duel.”
“No.”
The Bothan’s eyes became amethyst slits. “The Jedi sanction this duel?”
Luke stared back. “A week from now, I’m going down to Ithor to act as Corran’s second.”
“So then, the Jedi claim the right to determine Ithor’s fate.”
The sly tone in Fey’lya’s words sent a spark of anger through Corran. “He’s right, Master, the Jedi can’t be caught in that trap. I quit being a Jedi, too.”
“You can’t.”
“Okay, fire me.” Corran frowned. “Um, there are parts of the Jedi Code I don’t buy into, and these robes chafe. There’s insubordination for you. Ditch me. This is one trench run you don’t need to make.”
The Jedi Master slowly shook his head. “What you do not understand, Chief Fey’lya, is that Corran has acted to preserve life. Even if he falls, he is but one life lost against all those we are evacuating. One family will weep, not many. And when he wins, Ithor will be safe and the Yuuzhan Vong will know this invasion will not be without gross cost to them.”
Corran’s flesh tightened as Luke spoke. Looking at Borsk Fey’lya, it became apparent that while the Bothan heard the words, their true meanings never penetrated his brain. He’s off figuring how he will spin this, win or lose, to his advantage.
Corran flipped his lightsaber around and offered the dark end to the Fey’lya. “Here, take it, go down and fight him yourself.”
“No, I couldn’t.”
“I know that, Chief, and not because I think you’re a coward.” Corran shook his head slowly, then reversed the blade, leaving his thumb poised over the ignition button. “This fight isn’t your fight, it’s mine. I’m suited to it, and since losing is not something I can do, I won’t.”
The Bothan half-snarled at him. “If you fail, you will join Thrawn and Vader in the minds of the people.”
“If I lose, Chief Fey’lya, Ithor will be forgotten in the bloodbath that follows.” Corran purged himself of anger and set his face in a calm mask. “It is to prevent just that which brings me to fight Shedao Shai. The preservation of life and freedom are the only reasons ever to fight. In their cause, I will win.”
Anakin shrugged his mother’s hands off his shoulders as he stared through the medical bay’s viewport. In the wardroom, covered with a white sheet to her throat, Daeshara’cor lay on a bed, barely moving. He could tell she was still breathing, but her breaths came shallow and hurried.
Leia spoke in a soft voice. “You don’t have to go in there.”
I don’t want to, but I must. Anakin sniffed and nodded to his mother. “She’s . . . she asked for me. I have to.”
“Do you want me to go with you?”
He swallowed hard against the lump choking him. “No, I can do this. Just, um . . .”
“I’ll wait here.”
“Thank you.” Anakin brushed away a tear and entered the medical bay. Droids busied themselves with other patients. He moved over to the left side of the bed and rested his hand on Daeshara’cor’s hidden wrist.
She started for a second, then opened her eyes. Her surprised expression changed into one of happiness, though it lingered for only a second or two. Weariness washed from her, and Anakin could feel the spark of her life dimming. “Anakin.”
“Hi. How are you?” Anakin squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “Stupid, stupid . . .”
Daeshara’cor slipped her left hand from beneath his grip and the sheet, then brushed a tear from his cheek. “It’s okay. The venom—”
Anakin sniffed. “Corran was bitten. They saved him.”
“Human chemistry . . . different from a Twi’lek’s.” She lowered her hand and grabbed his, squeezing as hard as she could, which felt terribly weak to him. “There is nothing they can do. I’m dying.”
“No! Not fair—you can’t!” Anakin snarled as hot tears splashed down his cheeks. “Not you, not like—”
“Chewbacca?