Faithful Padawans

Unidentified Planet

62 ABY

Ben Skywalker kneeled in the middle of the meditation chamber, ignoring as usual the ache in his joints. He couldn't pinpoint precisely when the pains had come to him, just as he couldn't pinpoint precisely when his life had gone to hell. He was a Jedi Master now, and there were more important things than his own suffering.

"Father," he whispered in the dim light of the chamber. It was a plain room painted hastily in shades of blue and gray. If he'd allowed himself to, Ben would have hated it. "Dad?"

There was no answer. He wondered why he hadn't given up trying yet.

Ben sighed and let his shoulders sag. "Why is it," he murmured, "that when I finally realized how much I needed you, it was too late?"

"Talking to the dead again?"

Once upon a lifetime, he would have laughed. The wry grin tugging faintly at his lips was the last remnant of an entirely different Ben. "You're losing your touch. I knew you were there half a second before you announced it." He turned his head and looked up at the older woman standing in the doorway. "What are you doing here?"

The woman folded her arms and stared down at her boots, thinking. She'd stopped going barefoot long ago. "You don't have to punish yourself every time. There was nothing you could have done if you'd been there."

"That doesn't make it any easier to bear," Ben replied flatly. "I sent them to their deaths. And over what? Some jungle moon that would have done us more harm than good anyway? Was that worth dying for?"

"You know, kid, I get tired of listening to your whining," the woman said roughly. "It must be a Skywalker gene, because I never saw Mara act that way."

Ben shook his head. Any other day and he would have shut his mouth right then. Tahiri Veila usually had that effect on him. But the day's events had hit him harder than ever, and he just couldn't take it. Not from her, and not from anyone else.

"If you want to be heir to this legacy for a day, then be my guest, Tahiri. I'd happily trade it for the chance to be a normal Jedi." The words sounded angry in his mind, so he was surprised by the calmness in his voice as he spoke. "Given my situation, I think I have a right to whine or scream or do whatever else I want."

The two Jedi stared at each other in silence for a moment. Suddenly, Tahiri's permanently serious face broke into a deep smile. Her laughter resonated throughout the chamber. "Oh, Ben. I think if there's one Jedi who can't be turned, it's you. You can't even get angry properly."

"Give me a few more months. Those Padawans at the Enclave are enough to drive any man to the dark side."

Tahiri laughed again, the crow's feet at her eyes deepening. Had she ever been as young and innocent as she claimed? "Spoken like a true middle-aged adult."

"Thirty-six is not middle-aged."

"Say what you want. We're only getting older."

Silence settled between them like a familiar conversation. Ben cleared his throat and stood up. "I'm sorry about the insult. I don't think you're just a normal Jedi."

"Don't worry about it. I'm probably the least normal Jedi around."

"Some of those Padawans could give you a run for that title."

Tahiri snorted. "Let me know if any of them turns out to be half-Yuuzhan Vong. Then you just might be onto something."

It was meant as a joke, but mentioning the Padawans, even in jest, made Ben remember why he had come to meditate in the first place. "There must be something wrong with them," he said humorlessly, "to make them trust me after everything that has happened."

He turned away from Tahiri and examined the bare walls. There was no memorial here, nothing to remember the dead by. Nothing that the Sith could find and destroy. Who would remember the ones they'd lost? The Force? Perhaps, but if the Force remembered his father and mother, it certainly never showed it.

Tahiri crossed the threshold and took a few steps toward Ben. "One of these days you're going to realize what everyone else has known for a long time."

He looked over his shoulder hesitantly. "What's that?"

She smiled sincerely, like she must have long ago, before the war stripped her of her innocence. "That you're a great Jedi, Ben Skywalker. That more than anyone else alive today, you try to do the right thing." She shook her head. "You think you doubt the Force, but really the only one you doubt is yourself. So stop it already. I have two whiny kids to deal with. I don't need a third."

"But the scout team—"

"Died to protect us all. To keep us one step ahead of the Sith. If that's not a worthy cause, than I don't know what is, Ben."

He lowered his head, defeated. "I've behaved selfishly."

"You're entitled every now and then." She stepped forward and punched him lightly in the shoulder. "Just don't make a habit of it."

Ben blew out a long sigh. "Thanks, Tahiri."

The older woman shrugged. "Don't mention it. See you back at the council room?"

Ben blinked twice before he remembered. "Right, the meeting. I'll be there shortly."

"All right."

She turned and strode out of the chamber, leaving Ben alone between the muted walls. He resumed his kneeling position at the center of the room and pulled out his lightsaber. With a flick of his thumb, the saber ignited, sending a blue beam of purest energy into the air like a beacon. He bowed his head and held the lightsaber aloft.

"For Lomm Vedii," he whispered, reciting the names of the Jedi who had died that day, "and Zira Shrin. For Rullafawn, Isha Kaj, and Memit. May the Force be with you, faithful Jedi."

As he deactivated his lightsaber and prepared to stand, something light and airy seemed to brush at his consciousness like a suggestion. He looked around for the cause, but found nothing. After a moment, it touched his mind again, and this time he closed his eyes and smiled.

"Hi, Dad. Hi, Mom." Tears squeezed out from under his eyelids. "Take care of my Padawans."