The enormity of what had just occurred struck home. Jacen, who was still holding his weeping aunt, looked at the captain who had just said the words, which seemed to take the situation and qualify it as a reality rather than just a sense of loss. What had been a horrible pain in Jacen's heart that he didn't wish to put words to was suddenly and quite sharply the statement "your uncle is dead". He took a deep breath, filling his being with the soothing calm of the force, which oddly, felt a little off as well.

Jacen nodded at the captain. "Thank you, Captain Tesel. Your kind words are appreciated." He paused a moment, gathering his thoughts. "Are we still en route to the Kuat Drive Yards, for perfunctory repairs?"

Captain Tesel crossed his hands behind his back, and nodded. "We are, Jedi Solo. Although I'd understand if you'd want to be dropped off somewhere or be returned to the, ah, scene—"

Jacen shook his head. "No, that won't be necessary. We would take you up on the offer of a drop off, however. Coruscant isn't terribly out of the way…"

"Of course. And if there's anything else…?"

"No, thank you." Jacen was grateful for the man's kindness, but his patience was wearing thin. He knew Mara wouldn't want anyone to see her in this state. "Some privacy would be welcome." His voice was resolute, brooking no argument.

The captain held his ground, however. "There is the matter of one of my subordinates being, what I hope to be, unconscious on that bed there."

Jacen wanted nothing more than to tell the man to go away, but his concern was nothing if not reasonable. Jacen grabbed the form with the force, noting that he was in fact merely unconscious, for which he was eternally grateful, and floated him towards the captain, depositing him as gently as possible on the floor in the doorway, at Tesel's feet. Two soldiers that had been flanking the door, of which Jacen had been unaware, much to his momentary chagrin, grabbed the young medical assistant under his arms and carried him out of the room. The captain hit the door's controls on the way out, causing them to snap shut in his wake.

When the quiet of solitude settled upon the room, Jacen became acutely aware of the fact that Mara had stopped crying. In fact, she wasn't moving at all. Jacen pulled her gently away from him. Mara's eyes were open but she wasn't looking at him. She was just staring straight at his chest, completely still. He found her expression disconcerting.

"Mara?" he asked tentatively. When she didn't respond, he used the force to get a reading of her. Her force signature seemed well enough, though he sensed that she was in a great deal of physical and emotional discomfort. It felt as though she was in a force trance, which she clearly wasn't. Jacen inwardly cursed the captain's interruption, thinking that if he had kept her talking she wouldn't have withdrawn like this.

For now, her physical well-being was his primary concern. He picked her up, being careful not to apply any pressure to her abdomen or lower back, and carried her to the bed, placing her on it gently, and covered her with a blanket.

Jacen grasped her hands in his own and looked at her intently. "Come on, Mara. Talk to me." He pleaded. "You're right, I don't understand how you're feeling but I need you to talk to me."

He sensed her awareness of what he was saying, but she didn't respond.

"Did Luke send you anything before he…" his voice trailed off, His weakness starting to annoy him. Why couldn't he just say it? It was entirely out of character for him to be this indecisive. He opened his mouth, to speak what seemed like the pronunciation of judgment.

"Died." It wasn't Jacen's voice that said it, but hers. She still wasn't looking at him and her voice was hard as steel, in stark contrast to her reddened eyes and tear stained cheeks. "Yes, he did. Why? You think you have a right to know what his last thoughts were or something?"

The harshness of her words did not perturb him. "No. I merely meant to ask if you know if he managed to kill Lomi Plo? I need to know if he was successful."

Mara's chuckle was raspy and not at all amused. "Why?"

Jacen's eyes narrowed. "You aren't seriously asking that are you?"

"Now that's so much more like it," Mara said sardonically. "The new and ever so superior Jacen: always asking the right questions. Always ready to do whatever is necessary. For a moment there I thought you were actually human; comforting a grieving woman and all." Her tone was accusatory. "Well he wouldn't be kriffing Luke Skywalker if he didn't save the day, would he?" Jacen breathed a sigh of relief. "Regardless, you've already rerouted us to Coruscant. Not exactly the direction of the Killik nest ships…"

Jacen was starting to get annoyed by her harsh words. "If he had—" he paused looking for the right word.

"… Failed," Mara filled in, still avoiding his eyes, her gazed fixed on the ceiling. "Damn it, I don't know what's more tragic: my husband's death or your inability to cope with it."

Jacen breathed in deeply. "If he had failed," he continued, his voice filled with a patience he didn't feel, "I would have caught the next vessel heading to the conflict zone."

"And you would have succeeded where he had failed?" Mara, scoffed.

"That's not what I meant!" Jacen's voice grew angry. "But someone would've had to stop, or at least try to stop, Lomi Plo."

Mara chuckled again, but now it only sounded heartbroken. "Glorious. Never mind leaving me alone in my grief, you'd actually try to add to it. So much for empathetic Jacen... Don't ever try to manipulate my emotions like that again."

Jacen's brow furrowed in confusion before asking: "Alone in Coruscant?" He knew the question to be almost stupid, but he wanted to deflect her anger towards something else.

Mara's voice became softer. "You know very well that our entire family is off-world." She smiled broadly. "But Kyp Durron and his inappropriate comments are just what I need right now. Or any of the other shell shocked Jedi Masters, still reeling from Luke's assumption of sole leadership of the order."

Jacen was confused. He thought Kyp Durron had supported Luke's declaration. Maybe she knew something he didn't. Jacen exhaled forcefully. "Mara please, I'm really trying here."

"Try harder." Her voice was unforgiving but scarcely more than a whisper.

He shut up.

Jacen closed his eyes and let the force course through his wearied body. He had barely begun to repair his damaged organs when he had been roused by the pain of his uncle's passing. He directed his powers towards his injuries, resuming the necessary task, lest he die an inconvenient death. As he started using the force to heal himself, his mind drifted off, pondering the issue Mara had just brought up. What would happen to the Jedi order now? Would the masters respect Luke's last edict and elect a new grand master from their ranks? Or would they return to leadership by a council of equals? And if it was the former, which was likely considering their respect for Luke's judgment, whom would they elect? If it was the latter, how long would it take before schisms appeared in the order again?

Of greater personal concern was what this meant for the future. How would this affect Jacen's visions? Worse yet, with Luke dead, who would be powerful enough to stop Abeloth when she finally broke free of the Maw? Jacen wished that he could pick up any warnings in the force, or glimpses of the future, but what he had noted earlier was still the case: the force didn't feel right. It almost felt like the force itself was mourning the loss of its greatest champion. It was a sad thought.

Jacen feared that the ramifications of what had occurred would have unpredictable results. And the force may well remain uncooperative for some time, he mused, acknowledging the he doubted that the force was really "hurting" in response to Luke Skywalker's death . . . no, that was absurd. The peculiar sense he was getting from it, was more than likely his own wounded psyche distorting it. What bothered him far more was what this tragic event boded for the future. Would the galaxy fall to Abeloth's crazed machinations? Jacen knew he wasn't powerful enough to defeat Abeloth. At least not yet, he thought, and probably not for a while. He had learned the force techniques and unique perspectives of all the benevolent or neutral force using factions in the galaxy. He was becoming increasingly convinced that he would have to tread darker paths for increased all-encompassing understanding.

Now, more than ever, he felt as though doing that, however, would dishonor his uncle's teachings. His memory, Jacen corrected himself. Still, he wasn't one to let peoples' opinion and judgment of his actions affect what he did. His path was one of increasing loneliness and sorrow. The darker views of the force might hold answers to his, seemingly, never ending questions. Not darker, he amended, just more pragmatic.

"I'm sorry." Jacen barely heard her words, but they nevertheless brought him out of his ruminations and his semi-healing-trance

He cleared his throat. "You've nothing to be sorry for," he said, quietly.

"That's kind of you," Mara replied insistently, "but untrue. Forgive my harsh words."

"Of course."

Mara's voice still lacked that critical element that was so her. It distressed him to hear his aunt sound like that.

"Do you want me to com the temple? Tell them to have a vessel prepped to take you to Ossus?" Jacen asked.

Mara shook her head. "I don't want my son to see me like this."

Jacen rose from his chair and grasped her hand. She withdrew it almost immediately. Jacen didn't let the gesture deter him. "Your son needs you right now, probably more than ever before."

Mara nodded, as her eyes welled up once more. "I know. I just don't know what to do anymore…"

Jacen grinned, though it wasn't heartfelt. "You're Mara Jade. You always know what to do."

Mara shook her head. "Not today. Not this." Tears were once again running down her cheeks. "I think this is the one thing that I can't deal with," she said, sobbing.

"I know it must seem that way now, but…" Jacen searched for the right words, "I'm told it gets easier." His voice became somber. "But likely not today…"

Mara, laughed but a choked sob interrupted it. "Refreshingly honest," her eyes wandered around the room for a moment, and then refocused on him, her emerald eyes pleading. "Tell me this is all some sick test you invented for Luke. You know, like when you made him think I was dying, only this time..." Her voice drifted off in her attempt to rationalize. "I'll forgive you if it is," she said intently.

Jacen shook his head sadly. "No you wouldn't, and I would not blame you." Jacen inhaled deeply. "I wish it was, honestly. I'd suffer your hatred if that's what it took to give you your husband back. To give the galaxy its hero back. I'd die if that's what it took…" It almost frightened him to realize he was utterly serious.

Mara seemed disappointed but he sensed her gratitude in response to his words. When she didn't say anything further he remained quiet as well, assuming that the conversation was at an end. He returned to his seat, next to her bed, recommencing his force healing.

Jacen's thoughts drifted to his brother. It wasn't often that he allowed himself to think of Anakin. Not because of any enmity between them—force knows he'd loved his brother dearly—but because he always felt as though Anakin was glaring at him admonishingly from beyond the veil of the force. Like his brother disapproved of his choices. But Anakin was dead. His choices led him to the grave, notwithstanding their heroic nature. Vergere had taught him to survive; to make his own destiny. And wasn't that what he was doing now? Choose and act, she had said, in that peculiar wizened way of hers. And so he had, for a long time now.

Nevertheless, here he was, the future spiraling out of his control, the force itself seeming to fail him. Visions he'd had aplenty. He'd been cautious in its use, but thanks to flow-walking he'd even seen fragments of the past. Yet never, was he warned of even the possibility of his uncle's death. Never, in a thousand years, did it enter his mind as a possibility, which struck him as absurd and ill considered. He knew he was missing something, something all-important, and yet profoundly personal. He just couldn't put his finger on what it was exactly. Jacen stopped his mind's meandering and simply let himself sink into the calming embrace of the force.

Some time passed this way, before Jacen's eyes reopened. He checked his chrono, noting with surprise that over three hours had passed. His own experience told him that the amount of energy and concentration he'd invested should have only put him out for an hour. He checked Mara's bed and sighed in relief to find her still lying there. He used the force to check her state and was pleased to find her asleep . . . somewhat surprised, but pleased.

Jacen felt it was high time to make contact with his other family members through the force. He stopped his healing efforts and used his powers to try and connect to Jaina, Leia, and Ben simultaneously, transmitting his heartfelt grief, but also reassurance and strength. Due to the muddled nature of the force, however, he didn't sense their response to his presence touching theirs. He knew it would be received with gratitude, nonetheless, excepting Jaina perhaps. That's an unfair thought, Jacen admitted. It's not her fault that she's not strong enough to resist the Killik Hive Mind. Haughty though the thought was it wasn't wrong. Her anger at his manipulations would likely diminish in the face of this tragedy, which was good.

Jacen came to his feet again, circling around Mara's bed on his way out. He checked her signature once more, assuring himself that she was sleeping. She felt like turmoil and sorrow, but the emotions emanated dimly from beneath a blanket of relatively peaceful slumber. He felt reassured by the force but decided that he'd rather err on the side of caution. He placed his hands on her forehead and reinforced her sleep. He was pretty sure, not knowing if the force could be fully relied on, that she would stay asleep for several hours, at least. He decided to go to the bridge, stopping at the mess long enough to grab a bite to eat. It would be prudent to have Ben Skywalker relocated to Coruscant, regardless of Mara's words regarding her son. Ben may well be the only hope for the future now…

Jacen was still on the bridge an hour later, staring out of the viewport at the swirling blue lines of hyperspace. He had spoken to Ben on the com for a few moments. The young boy had been under the care of Tione Solusar, on Ossus, when he felt his father's death in the force. The boy was completely out of sorts, as to be expected. What disappointed Jacen is that he sensed Ben's belief that the force was at fault. Ben had only recently opened up, barely, and only when in Jacen's company, and now he was shutting himself to the force once more.

Tione had been crying as well, he could tell. More than likely all the Jedi would be in mourning. Most of them, especially the older ones, had known Luke personally—on a first name basis—along with being indebted to him for some good deed or another. It unnerved him to see how one man's death was affecting every facet of his surroundings. Even the soldiers on the bridge tiptoed around him, although he could hear their hushed whispers behind him. They were arguing about whether Luke killed so or that many stormtroopers in a skirmish during the wars with Ysanne Isard's empire, honoring him in their peculiar way.

Jacen decided he'd spent enough time obstructing the comings and goings on the bridge with his presence. He turned and made his way back to the medbay, passing through soldiers who became respectfully silent as he passed between them.

When he arrived back at the medbay he was relieved to find Mara still sleeping. He sat down on the cold floor, cross-legged, and entered into a meditative trance. He attuned his awareness to Mara, however, so that he would know when she stopped sleeping.