Outbound Flight (звёздные войны)

by Timothy Zahn

  "We'll get ourselves checked out," Obi-Wan promised. "Until tonight, then."

  He nudged Anakin, and together they made their way across the room. "Master C'baoth certainly seems to know what he wants, doesn't he?" he commented.

  "Nothing wrong with that," Anakin said firmly. "If Master Yoda or Master Windu talked that way to the Chancellor and Senate once in a while, maybe more things would get done."

  "Yes," Obi-Wan murmured. "Maybe."

  The grid was heavy, and flexible enough to be difficult to get a grip on. Fortunately, that wasn't a problem for a Jedi. Stretching out with the Force, Lorana lifted it back into position, holding it in place while the techs hurriedly worked at its fastenings.

  "Thanks," the overseer puffed when it was finally secured. "Those things are a real mean, they're a real pain when they get loose like that."

  "No problem," Lorana assured him. "I was glad I could help."

  "Me, too," he grunted. "Did I hear someone say your name was Jinzler?"

  "Yes," she confirmed. "Why?"

  " 'Cause we've got a Jinzler on our work team," he said, fumbling out a comlink and punching in a code. "Guy named Dean. Relative of yours?"

  "I don't know," Lorana said. "I was only ten months old when I entered the Jedi Temple. I don't know anything about my family."

  "What, they never came to see you?"

  "Families aren't allowed to visit," Lorana told him.

  "Oh," the other said, sounding surprised. A tone sounded, and he lifted the comlink to his lips. "Jinzler? Brooks. Where are you?. . Okay, find a stopping place and hop on over to the messroom. . 'Cause I want to see you, that's why."

  He keyed off and returned the comlink to his belt. "This way, Jedi Jinzler," he said, gesturing toward one of the ComOps Center's starboard doors.

  "But I already said I don't know him," Lorana protested as she followed.

  "Yeah, but maybe he'll know you," Brooks said. They stepped through the door into the corridor and he turned toward the nearest turbolift. "Worth checking out anyway, isn't it?"

  Lorana felt her throat tighten. "I suppose."

  They took the turbolift three levels down from the command deck and along a narrow corridor to a large table-filled room with a full-length serving counter stretching across one end. A dozen humans and aliens were scattered in twos and threes around the various tables, conversing in low tones over multicolored liquids, while three serving droids busied themselves behind the counter. "There he is," Brooks said, pointing at a table along the back wall. A lone, dark-haired man sat there, his back to the rest of the room, cradling a steaming mug between his hands. "Come on, I'll introduce you."

  He set off across the room, exchanging nods and greetings with some of the others as he passed. Lorana followed, her quiet misgivings growing steadily stronger. . and as they got within three meters of the man he half turned, and she got her first look at his profile.

  It was the man she'd seen so many times back on Coruscant.

  She stopped short, her whole body going taut. Brooks didn't notice, but continued the rest of the way to the table. "Hey, Jinzler," he said, gesturing toward her. "Want to introduce you to someone."

  The young man turned the rest of the way around in his chair. "No need," he said, his voice steady but edged with an unpleasant mixture of tension and bitterness. "Jedi Lorana Jinzler, I presume."

  With an effort, Lorana found her voice. "Yes," she said. The word came out calmer than she had expected it to. "Dean Jinzler, I presume."

  "You two know each other?" Brooks asked, frowning back and forth between them.

  "Hardly," Jinzler said. "She's only my sister."

  "Your-?" Brooks stared at him, then at Lorana. "But I thought-"

  "Thank you," Lorana said, catching his eye and nodding microscopically toward the door.

  "Uh.. yeah." Still staring at them in confusion, Brooks backed away between the tables, his hands groping behind him for obstacles. He reached the door and escaped from the room.

  "I suppose you're going to want to sit down," Jinzler said, an edge of challenge in his voice.

  Lorana turned her attention back to him. He was gazing up at her with the same bitterness she'd noted at their other near encounters. His eyes, contrary to her expectations, weren't dark but were instead the same odd shade of gray as hers. "Yes," she said, circling to a chair at the far side of the table. Gathering her robes around her, she eased down into it.

  "I suppose I should congratulate you on passing the trials," Jinzler said. "You're a real Jedi now."

  "Thank you," Lorana said, searching his face. Therewas a family resemblance there, she could see. Strange that she'd never noticed it before. "You keep up on such things?"

  "My parents do." His mouth tightened. "Ourparents do," he corrected himself.

  "Yes," she murmured. "I'm afraid I don't know anything about them. Or about you."

  "No, of course not," he said. "ButI know everything aboutyou. Everything, from your youngling training, to your apprenticeship to Jorus C'baoth, to your first lightsaber, to your elevation to Jedi Knighthood."

  "I'm impressed," Lorana said, trying a hesitant smile.

  "Don't be," he said, not returning the smile. "I only know because my parents had a friend who still worked inside the Temple. They rammed your every accomplishment down my throat. They loved you, you know." He snorted gently. "No. Of course you don't. You never bothered to find out."

  He dropped his eyes from her face and took a sip from his mug. Lorana gazed at him, wincing at the anger and bitterness flowing toward her like the steam from his drink. What had she done to make him so angry? "We weren't allowed as Padawans to know anything about our families," she said into the silence. "Even now that I'm a Jedi, it's still frowned on."

  "Yeah," he said. "Sure."

  "And there are good reasons for it," she continued doggedly. "There are many worlds in the Republic where family connections and position are the most important parts of their culture. A Jedi who knew which family she'd come from might find it impossible to deal impartially in any of her people's disputes."

  "Doesn't stop the family from findingyou, though, does it?" he shot back. "Because mine sure did. Even after your precious Jedi got them fired, they still managed to keep tabs on you-"

  "Wait a minute," Lorana interrupted him. "What do you mean, they got them fired? Who got them fired?"

  "You Jedi have hearing problems?" he demanded. "I already told you: one of your high and mighty Jedi. Mom and Dad were civilian workers at the Temple, handling electronics maintenance and repair in the public areas. They were good at it, too. Only after you were taken, they got fired. Your Jedi didn't want them even in the same building with you, I guess."

  Lorana felt her stomach tighten. She wasn't familiar with this particular incident, though there had been others she'd heard of. But it was clear that it would do no good to give her brother the rationale behind the Temple's strict isolation policy. "Were they able to find other jobs?"

  "No, we all starved to death," he retorted. "Of course they found other jobs. Lower-paying jobs, of course, jobs where they had to scramble to get us packed and moved because no one had even bothered to tell them they couldn't stay on at the Temple once you were there. But that's not the point."

  "Then whatis the point?"

  For a long minute he just stared at her, his turmoil surging like the ocean's edge in a winter storm. "You Jedi think you're perfect," he said at last. "You think you know what's right for everyone and everything. Well, you're not, and you don't."

  Lorana felt her throat tighten. "What happened to you, Dean?" she asked gently.

  "Oh, so now it'sDean, is it?" he said scornfully. "Nowyou want to pretend you're my loving big sister? You think you can wave your hand or your precious lightsaber and make it all up to me?"

  "Makewhat up to you?" Lorana persisted. "Please. I want to know."

  "I thought you Jedi knew everything."

  Lorana sighed. "No, of cour
se not."

  "Well, you'd never know that by listening to our parents," he bit out. "You were the perfect one, the one all the rest of us were measured against. Lorana would have done this, Lorana would have done that; Lorana would have said this, Lorana wouldnever had said that. It was like living with a minor deity. And so completely absurd-they couldn't possibly have the slightest idea what you might actually do or say in some situation. You could barely evenwalk when they sent you away."

  His eyes hardened even further. "But of course, youwere away, weren't you? That's what made the whole thing work. You were never around to make mistakes or lose your temper or drop dinner all over the floor. They could set up their little shrine to you without ever having to see anything that might burst the bubble of perfection they'd built around you."

  He scooped up his mug, but set it down again without drinking. "ButI know," he growled, staring into it. "I've been watching you. You're not perfect. You're not even close to perfect."

  Lorana thought back across the wearying years of her training, and C'baoth's constant criticism. "No," she murmured. "I'm not."

  "You're not very observant, either." He gestured at her. "Let me see that fancy weapon of yours."

  "My lightsaber?" Frowning, she slid it out of her belt and set it on the table.

  "Yeah, that's the one," he said, making no move to touch it. "That's an amethyst, right?"

  "Yes," she said, focusing on the activation stud. "It was a gift from some people Master C'baoth and I helped in one of Coruscant's midlevels."

  Jinzler shook his head. "No, it was a gift from your parents. They knew the people, and asked them to give it to you." His mouth twisted. "And you couldn't even figure that out, could you?"

  "No, of course not," Lorana said, her frustration with this man and his anger threatening to bubble over into anger of her own. "How could I?"

  "Because you're a Jedi," he shot back. "You're supposed to know everything. I'll bet your Master C'baoth knew where it came from."

  Lorana took a careful breath. "What do you want from me, Dean?"

  "Hey, you're the one who came looking for me just now, not the other way around," he countered. "What doyou want?"

  For a moment she gazed into his eyes. Whatdid she want from him? "I want you to accept what is," she told him. "The past is gone. Neither of us can change it."

  "You want me tonot change the past?" he said scornfully. "Yeah, okay, I think I can handle that."

  "I want you to accept that, whatever your feelings about your-about our-parents, your value isn't defined by their opinions or judgments," she continued, ignoring the sarcasm.

  He snorted. "Sorry, but you already said not to change the past," he said. "Anything else?"

  She looked him straight in the eye. "I want you to stop hating," she said quietly. "To stop hating yourself. . and to stop hating me."

  She saw the muscles work briefly in his neck. "I don't hate," he said, his voice steady. "Hate is an emotion, and Jedi don't have emotions. Right?"

  "You're not a Jedi."

  "And that's thereal problem, isn't it?" he said bitterly.

  "That's what Mom and Dad wanted: Jedi. And I'm not one, am I? But don't worry, I can still play the game. There is no emotion; there is peace. Jedi serve others rather than ruling over them, for the good of the galaxy. Jedi respect all life, in any form. See?"

  Abruptly, Lorana had had enough. "I'm sorry, Dean," she said, standing up. "I'm sorry for your pain, which I can't heal. I'm sorry for your perceived loss, which I can't give back to you." She forced herself to lock gazes with him. "And I'm sorry you're on your way to wasting your life, a decision that only you can change."

  "Nice," he said. "The one thing no one can top Jedi at is making speeches. Especially farewell speeches." He raised his eyebrows. "Thatwas a farewell speech, wasn't it?"

  Lorana glanced around the room, belatedly remembering where she was. Outbound Flight. . "I haven't made up my mind."

  He lifted his eyebrows. "You actually have amind? " he said. "I thought the Jedi Council made all your decisions for you."

  "I hope you'll find your way, Dean," Lorana said, picking up her lightsaber and sliding it back into her belt. "I hope you'll find your healing."

  "Well, you can spend the next few years worrying about it," he said. "Hurry back. We have so much more to talk about. Sister." Picking up his mug, he shifted around in his seat to put his back to her.

  Lorana stared at the back of his head, the acid taste of defeat in her mouth. "I'll talk to you later," she said. "My. . brother."

  He didn't reply. Blinking back tears, Lorana fled from the room.

  For a long time she wandered the maze of corridors, maneuvering mechanically around the techs and droids as she tried to work through the pain darkening her eyes and mind. It was therefore with a certain sense of distant shock that her eyes cleared to show she was back in the Dreadnaught's ComOps Center.

  C'baoth and Pakmillu were still there, holding a discussion over one of the navigation consoles. "Ah-Jedi Jinzler," C'baoth said, gesturing her over. "I trust your quarters are satisfactory?"

  "Actually, I haven't seen them yet," Lorana admitted.

  "But youwill be joining us, will you not?" Pakmillu added in his gravelly voice. "I understand there is some confusion on this point."

  "There's no confusion," C'baoth insisted. "She is coming with us."

  Pakmillu's large eyes were steady on her. "Jedi Jinzler?" he invited.

  Lorana took a deep breath, her brother's face floating in front of her. The face that from this point on would forever hover at the edges of her life. "Master C'baoth is correct," she told the captain. "I'll be honored to travel with you aboard Outbound Flight."

  And, she added bitterly to herself, the sooner they were gone, the better.

  Chapter 13

  … And the final crew and passenger list," Captain Pakmillu said, handing over the last data card.

  "Thank you," Doriana said, accepting the card and tucking the entire stack away inside his coat. "And there's nothing else you need?"

  "Nothing that I or fifty thousand other people have been able to think of," Pakmillu said with typically dry Mon Cal humor. "I believe Outbound Flight is ready to fly."

  "Excellent," Doriana said. "Supreme Chancellor Palpatine will be pleased to hear it."

  "We couldn't have done it without his help," Pakmillu said gravely. "Please extend our gratitude one final time to him for all his efforts on our behalf."

  "I certainly will," Doriana promised. A final time it would be, too. "Then that's that. I'll see you in-what? Five years? Ten?"

  "However long it takes," Pakmillu said, looking around his Dreadnaught-1 command bridge. "But wewill be back."

  "I'll look forward to your return," Doriana said with all the false sincerity he could conjure up. "In the meantime, a safe voyage to you. And don't forget, if youdo discover anything else you need, the Supreme Chancellor's Office stands ready to assist. You still have three weeks before you leave Republic space-plenty of time for emergency supplies or equipment to be assembled and transported to you."

  "I will remember," Pakmillu said, bowing his head. "May I escort you back to your transport?"

  "No need," Doriana assured him. "I know you must have a hundred matters yet to deal with before you leave Yaga Minor. Fly safely, and may the Force he with you."

  "With nineteen Jedi aboard, I'm sure it will," Pakmillu assured him. "Rather, nineteen and a half."

  "Most definitely," Doriana agreed, keeping his smile in place as he frowned behind it. Nineteen Jedi? And ahalf? "Good-bye, Captain."

  He waited until the pilot had maneuvered the transport out of Dreadnaught- l's forward hangar bay and had them skimming smoothly across the outer fringes of Yaga Minor's atmosphere before he pulled out Pakmillu's passenger list and plugged it into

  his datapad. The last Jedi numbers he'd heard had put the total at seventeen, not nineteen. Had there been a sudden change in plans? And what in bl
azes was half a Jedi, anyway? The rumors about how Darth Maul had died flashed unpleasantly to mind..

  He pulled up the Jedi list and ran his eye down it. The names were very familiar, most of them potential troublemakers whom he himself had subtly nudged C'baoth into inviting aboard his grand expedition. The first addition to the list, Lorana Jinzler, wasn't really a surprise; Doriana had always thought it likely that C'baoth's former Padawan would decide to stay with him awhile longer. The other two were Obi-Wan Kenobi and his Padawan, Anakin Skywalker.