25

I guess I got cold feet about this chapter – I've felt uncomfortable about the story for a while, which is why I stopped begging for reviews. I was afraid of the negative ones, though I know that we sometimes need them. So didn't have the courage to post this on Friday, but I'll give it to you now as a Christmas present. Chapter 25 on the 25th.

Sorry about the mangled English.

There was a pause after the Zabrak fled. The Mibir finally started walking again. We decided to start moving before someone decided to bother us.

We weren't quite a block behind them, but we were careful to walk slowly. We fell a bit farther back.

Tokan was good; I had almost no warning of his intentions. With speed most Jedi would envy, he spun backwards around a corner and whipped his wings open, glaring at us with all the power and size of his species backing him.

Kerai said some words that I do not want to know the translation for. The rest of us skipped words and put our hands on our weapons, though I think the other four were waiting for me to draw. None of us even considered running.

"Jedi," Tokan spat. "Is the palace where? Here?"

I didn't have an answer to that. We were supposed to be at the palace.

"Are you here why, not palace? Confused? Is master who? Those?"

I hadn't heard someone who spoke Basic so badly speak it at all on Okutu, other than a few words here and there. Everyone who couldn't speak Basic didn't. So why would he?

So he could talk to Jiimo and me. But mostly me.

"Hurt not enough? Want pain more for Jedi? Want die also? No. Go the palace. Fast. Be safe, true?"

Was he threatening me or warning me? I decided to ask my original question. "Those Zabrak. Why did you fight them?"

He moved towards me, his wings still outstretched. Behind each wing, another Mibir stood, and I could see the other six behind them.

"They not do right."

"And what's right? Why did you fight? Our job isn't to fight."

Several Mibir snarled. "Job is fight, me," Tokan said.

"Does Tiku Lasir agree?" I challenged.

I heard another deep growl as he took another step forwards. "Job me, not him. You understand?"

"He gave it to you," I reminded him. I realized that I was sweating. We were teenagers, and I knew that the adult Mibir could kill us all in battle.

"It's his job to decide what to do," I argued.

Tokan muttered something about Tiku Lasir.

Something very impolite.

And Daru spoke at last. "People who follow Lasir are the only thing that keeps this city sane. What do you want? You like insanity? You like killing?"

Tokan stepped forwards again. If he had swung his wings out, he could have swept all five of us towards him. "Fight, I like." He fixed his eyes on mine. "Zabrak. Fight Zabrak."

"You're insane," I declared. Why does Tiku Lasir trust you?"

"I help, true? I help Mibir. He help all. He is 'insane'. True? Zabrak? Hssak? Planets you have some. Planets we have one. True? You are – are – want all. True? Only Humans better."

"Then –"

"Go palace. Safe, Zabrak Rodian. Go."

"Then you admit that you don't support – don't –" Something was too easy here.

"Admit? I tell you. Can hear who? Child. Five child. Rain come, streets no people. Child hear. Jedi child, still child. Go palace. Tell Lasir. He listen?"

"Yes," I said confidently, but I wasn't entirely sure how much Tiku Lasir trusted Tokan.

"You go not palace? All Zabrak same, true? Go."

I could have gone. I had my evidence. But he was right. We were the only ones to see; at least, the only ones who would tell anyone. Complacency or malice would silence the rest. Nobody would agree with us at all except Zabrak who had been his victims, and who wouldn't think they had a grudge against Mibir? So Tiku Lasir liked me, but the courts…?

So I asked:

"Who is Taksayan?"

He goggled at me for a moment. I gripped my lightsaber hilt. But instead of attacking, he began to laugh.

"Taksayan!" Iru Tokan shouted. "He is who? Who? Nobody! Never. He is name. He is – is – is story. Story for help Mibir."

"Yes, I know, but someone is calling himself Taksayan now," I insisted.

He rested amused eyes on me. "No. You understand wrong. Taksayan Jedi hunt, Taksayan is story."

"I'm talking about the Taksayan out there now. Not the original one. The one we hear about killing Zabrak. The one with the itaka Samudri…"

He spoke slowly and clearly. "He. Is. Story. Story called after story. Jedi believe, we not understand why. We not believe. Jedi and Lasir believe only. Story for us."

He leaned forwards. "I am Taksayan, here is Samudri. Taksayan, he is a hundred. Every one. Every leader, he is Taksayan if he fight Zabrak. Every itaka, it is Samudri, if it fight Zabrak!"

Was that true? Was there no Taksayan, no easy answer to Kebro?

Tokan snapped something at his companions. He pulled his wings to his body, and they all moved next to him so they blocked the streets themselves. He opened his wings again behind them.

They held metal staffs. They were too smart to use blasters against us. Surely we could cut through in one stroke, but if we missed, those would hurt.

And we had heard too much by now. Taksayan was something that any information was valuable for. We would be believed on that.

And there were only five of us, and the nine Mibir were huge.

I sank into the Force searching for a shatterpoint. I had half a second to find something to save us – or, better, something to justify our crazy mission. Half a second or less.

Something entered my mind that Master Windu had told me when he had taught me to use shatterpoints. "It's not always so simple. Sometimes, when you don't see one, it's because you're looking for the wrong thing or at the wrong time."

My six-year-old mind had accepted that too calmly, never guessing that this problem would threaten my life and, possibly, a planet. I knew this wasn't the wrong time – what other time was there? But the wrong place…?

Would killing one Taksayan help anything? What could I do? How could I unravel the problem of Okutu?

Where was the solution?

My lightsaber leapt to my hand and ignited, and Jiimo echoed my move, green with blue. The others drew a sword and blasters.

I gazed at Taksayan through the green fire of my blade.

"Child," he whispered, sorrow creeping through his hatred.

This hatred had killed Fang. It had killed Zefel. It would kill me.

And something else Master Windu had told me, something my six-year-old brain had discounted.

"I know you won't listen or understand now, but sometime you'll need to remember this. Sometimes, you don't see a shatterpoint because there isn't one."

Staring through my lightsaber, I knew.

There was no shatterpoint. Not for Okutu. Not for Kebro. Not for this section of the city. Not just that there was no easy solution.

There was no solution.

Because the people fought or watched indifferently.

Because we could not change them. Not in this time. Not in war.

But there was a shatterpoint in this situation. This one, insignificant situation. I could win; I could take one Taksayan; I could see how. It was in my hands, that was why I could not see it before. I had looked in the wrong place for the wrong thing. I could strike it. All I had to do was swing my lightsaber out – just like that, then turn it like that so Tokan wouldn't be prepared, and his itaka wouldn't be able to take it. They would fight, but not win. I could do it.

But I didn't.

Which would you have yourself become?

Because it was my shatterpoint, too.

I opened my hands. My finger slid off the on/off switch, and the green fire vanished. My lightsaber hilt hit the ground, bounced, spun, and skittered to a stop.