Interlude
Luke listened to the hum of the hyperspace engines as he watched Ben sleep. Ben had fallen asleep on a couch in the living quarters of the small starship. They had borrowed the ship from Callista's friends in exchange for a loaded credstick and a stack of ration bars. He wasn't sure if the unbalanced deal was more a tribute to the sort of friendship Callista inspired or to just how hungry the smugglers were.
Luke intended to get some rest himself, but he couldn't stand the thought of leaving Ben where he'd fallen asleep playing dejarik and going to his own quarters. He didn't want to be even that far away from his son. Luke had thought about carrying Ben to his bunk down the hall, but figured Ben would find that rather undignified. When had he gotten so grown up? It seemed like just yesterday Mara was still pregnant.
Mara . . .
Every time he thought of her, it was like a fresh knife in his gut. It killed him that he hadn't known. Hadn't seen it. The fear of losing her son gnawing at her, a voxyn of dread chewing up her insides. Luke hadn't seen how desperate she was, how close to the edge. How near the end.
Mara had blocked her anguish from him, kept it buried deep inside. And he had let her. He should have known. Should have seen it.
It grew inside her even as she fought to keep it hidden. When she could no longer hide her pain from him she confronted it head on. In a battle that she lost, as she knew she would.
He hadn't known she was on the brink of desperation. Hadn't seen that she was on the verge of death.
She was protecting Luke when she went after Jacen. She couldn't let Luke strike down his own flesh and blood. She protected Luke, protected Ben. But who had protected her?
How could he have missed it? How could he have let her go alone?
Alone. He let her die alone.
He failed Mara. He was damned if he would fail Callista too.