Balance Point

by Kathy Tyers

  He thrust both hands into his pockets, feeling guilty. “Actually, I … decided to stop using it. Completely. Uncle Luke challenged me, and I … I’m tired, Jaina. If I can’t fight darkness with darkness, then maybe I can’t fight violence with violence. I just feel like I’m … waiting for something to happen.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “What’s going to happen is another invasion, Jacen. And you’re coming with me, whether you want to or not.” She flipped back her vest and laid one hand on a holstered blaster.

  Startled, he sat down on the bed. “You’d make me come with you?”

  Jaina drew the blaster, and he saw that she’d set it for stun. “You may want to set yourself up as a tragic hero,” she said, “but it isn’t going to happen. Yes, idiot brother. I would make you come.”

  He half smiled, almost relieved. The universe had been knocked out from under him, and his vision beckoned him to a destiny he didn’t understand, but Jaina hadn’t changed. She’d just matured.

  “I’ll come,” he said, reaching out one hand.

  “Going to shoot back, if somebody shoots at us?”

  “I guess I’ll have to. But maybe nobody will.” He pulled out Gnosos’s data card. “We’ve been offered the use of a hoverpod.”

  “Whose?” Jaina’s eyes narrowed.

  “A Sunesi.”

  “One of those strange preachers?”

  Jacen shrugged. “I’ve never heard of one of them going to the dark side.”

  Frowning, Jaina flipped her hand on the blaster’s handgrip and gave it to him—then reached across and pulled a second blaster from her utility belt’s cross-draw holster.

  Then she peered out the window again. Her frown slackened. “Uh-oh,” she said. “Maybe we aren’t going anywhere.”

  * * *

  If Luke had hoped to make a speech, it was too late. Mara heard someone behind her fire a weapon—a little BlasTech DW-5, by the sound of it. Luke swept in and deflected the bolt.

  Mara spun around. Spotting the Duros gunman, she plunged through the crowd. Leaning her weight into his balance was easy. She threw him gently to the ground and disarmed him.

  Then she heard someone fire a deeper-pitched weapon. A shout went up, inarticulate, plainly hostile. Mara didn’t need to check her danger sense. Newly arrived agitators had turned a harmless crowd of fascinated spectators into a sharp-toothed beast of a mob. Duros who’d looked friendly almost knocked each other down, hurrying out of the middle of it.

  Someone grabbed her left arm. She stepped sideways and used his momentum to toss him almost casually against another Duros, who went down. Two more, from behind: she crossed her arms through the leader’s, ducked, and felt him slide over her back into his partner’s face.

  She flexed her hands. She was sick of watching Luke and Anakin have all the fun, anyway. It felt unconscionably good to cut loose—and with so many Duros close around her, they couldn’t fire weapons without hitting each other. So it was hand-to-hand, and Mara could do that in her sleep. A high roundhouse kick, fueled by her fury over having to retreat from Nom Anor, sent another holdout blaster up onto the tree limb.

  If she fell, though, her child could get hurt. She focused quickly and surely as each threat presented itself. Blaster after blaster flew into the vine-draped tree. A half-dozen Duros rushed her. She let them get close enough to grab—then leapt clear, aiming herself toward the street-sweeping machinery and R2-D2. Not far behind her back, she sensed another knot of closely controlled violence: Luke and Anakin, likewise headed out of the mob’s center.

  Another crowd of Duros bore down on R2-D2. His domed head spun left, then right. He let out a frightened squeal.

  Mara took the offensive, using the Force to toss Duros aside. One of R2-D2’s attackers made a grab. Mara saw the flash of an electric discharge, and the Duros jumped back. Another Duros tried to grab him, and R2-D2 shocked that one, too.

  Then a group of them clambered up the street-sweeping machine, and it roared to life.

  Jacen and Jaina avoided the lift and tiptoed down the emergency stairs. With only two flights to go, Jacen heard rustling noises below. He backed into Jaina, who’d donned her enhancement mask. The footsteps plainly were coming up toward them.

  Then the sound stopped.

  Jacen pressed against the exterior wall, close to his twin. He double-checked the unfamiliar blaster, making extra sure it was set for stun.

  By the time he lowered it, Jaina was pushing away from the wall. She placed two hands on the banister, leapt gracefully, and vanished.

  Jacen pounded down the next flight after her. He heard a blaster below his feet, and less than a second later, he spotted three Duros in CorDuro Shipping uniforms—two sprawled in the stairwell, one dashing for a door. Jacen stunned that one. Jaina had already fallen past this level, leaping out of the stairwell’s core, headed for a side door.

  Jacen followed, not liking what they’d done—not at all. This wasn’t fair! He was Jedi, trained to fight to protect others. And himself.

  “This way!” He waved Jaina toward a service garage, then pressed the data card into a wall slot.

  A two-seat hoverpod in the nearest row rose on its repulsors.

  The street-sweeper swung out a long metal arm, aimed at R2-D2. Mara couldn’t get there in time to stop it. R2-D2 flew into the air, and an angry cheer erupted.

  Behind R2-D2, Mara spotted a pod soaring off the housing complex’s second floor. She confirmed Jacen and Jaina on board, then stretched out to nudge Luke. He and Anakin were holding their own, keeping the Duros distracted, laying them limp on the pavement, if necessary.

  Mara vaulted onto one of the hefty diagonal braces that rose up from street level. She made sure she had a good grip, then reached out with the Force toward R2-D2.

  He changed course in midair, swooping around like a blunt silver missile.

  Duros scattered out of his line of fall. The mob surrounding Luke and Anakin stampeded aside.

  Luke broke into a sprint, headed away from Jacen and Jaina’s escape route, toward the hoverbike Mara had parked. Anakin followed, still gripping an ignited lightsaber. Mara guided R2-D2 toward them, then carefully set him down, facing in their direction. Instantly, he extended his third tread and rolled forward.

  She exhaled heavily. The key to “size matters not” was realizing she hadn’t lifted him at all. The Force had energy to spare—but directing its flow still tired her. She dropped lightly onto her feet and then pounded after Luke. Right in front of her, Anakin deflected a dirt clod with his lightsaber.

  “Get Artoo hidden,” she ordered him. “We’ll draw them off.”

  Luke climbed onto the hoverbike and fired it up. Mara sprang onto the second seat. Luke took off so fast she had to grab him with both arms.

  “Not exactly—the distraction—we had in mind,” she puffed, setting her chin on his shoulder.

  “Anakin changed things a little. Not badly, though. Just a little hazy on the escape plan.”

  He circled back, buzzed the crowd chasing Anakin and R2-D2, then headed up the nearest boulevard, toward a shopping strip. Mara craned her neck to look back. Anakin ducked around a building, out of her line of sight. The crowd came on, following Luke.

  “How are we going to get to the Shadow?” Keeping one arm around Luke’s waist, she corralled as much as possible of her streaming hair with the other hand.

  “I’ll think of something.”

  “Think fast, Skywalker.” She knew how much he was enjoying this—but she was tired.

  She still couldn’t say it, though.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Jacen leaned into an inadequate flight harness as Jaina piloted the borrowed hoverpod up a boulevard lined with manufacturers’ offices. She claimed she could see all right.

  As she rounded one corner, three pods marked with CorDuro’s triangular insignia swooped after them. “Don’t slow down,” Jacen told her, “but—”

  “What makes you think I’d slow down?”

>   “But we just picked up three more shadows,” he said. “They’ve got CorDuro markings.”

  “Meaning what?” Jaina accelerated toward the approach ramp for the public pod-driver bound for Port Duggan. Fortunately, there was little early evening traffic.

  “Meaning don’t go that way!” he exclaimed. “Get us to a private dock. We won’t be able to get anywhere close to main shipping.”

  “That’s where Mara docked the Shadow,” she growled, but she changed course without hesitating, blasting along at second-story level, scattering gray-skinned pedestrians. “Just tell me if I’m about to hit anything small.”

  Glancing at her enhancement mask, he gritted his teeth. “Right,” he said. “Okay, what was it you found out about Thrynni Vae and CorDuro?”

  “And the Peace Brigade, we think.”

  She related a sketchy story, constantly interrupting herself to swerve, jink, and dodge traffic. From her flying, he had to conclude that she could see. Mostly.

  “All I can say,” she finished, “is that Thrynni’s dead, Brarun’s on somebody’s payroll—not SELCORE’s—and Mom’s scrambling refugees onto evac ships. Again.”

  “We’d better find one uncorrupted government official, report Brarun, and—”

  “Oh, sure,” she said. “There’s time for that.”

  Jacen glanced back. “They’re still with us.”

  “Got any ideas? Or do we just wait for the speed police to get a bead on us?”

  “Give me your comlink,” he said. “I’ll see if I can get Uncle Luke or Aunt Mara.”

  As the comlink chirped, Mara pressed into a doorway and turned her face toward the deepening shadow. Luke’s warm back pressed up against hers. For the moment, they’d eluded attention.

  “Mara here,” she said softly.

  “We’re on our way,” Jacen’s voice said, “but we can’t get to the Shadow. We’ll take something else and meet you down at Gateway. Are you all right?”

  “Well.” Mara curled her fingers around the comlink. “We’ve been …” Screamed at, she recalled—taunted, vilified. She’d felt Luke’s anguish. These were people he wanted to help. “Busy,” was all she said. “If we make any public move, the rioters are likely to turn violent. We’re trying to get invisible again.”

  “See you downside, then.”

  Bburru’s daylights were fading. Mara could barely make out R2-D2’s domed top. Anakin stood sentinel over him, in a planter. They’d finally lost their last pursuer in this residential corridor.

  Mara pocketed the comlink.

  “Okay.” Luke held his deactivated lightsaber in his right hand. “Let’s see what Artoo can find us.”

  The little droid had alerted them that their hostel room had been entered, snoops and homing devices planted in their belongings. Not a major concern, but a nuisance. This route was closer to the Shadow, anyway. They would just have to do without disguises.

  A little farther up the avenue was another public terminal. Mara took the sentry post this time, while Luke covered R2-D2’s unauthorized breach. Only a few seconds later, he waved her down out of the musty bushes and strode off with R2-D2. She followed about four meters back, and she felt Anakin follow at a similar distance. A group of Duros passed on the corridor’s other side. She felt Luke using the Force to cloak their side in darkness.

  R2-D2 had found a vacant apartment with an outside door, where they could lie low, grab a snack, and wait for Bburru to cool down a little more before heading on toward the Shadow.

  As they paused in the entry, Anakin looked disappointed. “Go on ahead, then,” she told him. “Make sure it’s not being watched.”

  Looking pleased, he grabbed a handful of concentrates and headed out.

  Mara sank down in a narrow, built-in dining booth.

  “Move,” Luke said gently, sitting down on the bench’s edge. “Please.”

  She scooted aside and rested her head on his shoulder. She would not fall asleep. There wasn’t time.

  “Feels strange, doesn’t it?” she asked.

  Luke slipped his arm around her shoulder. “Something wrong?”

  “No,” she said wryly. “It’s just disconcerting.”

  “Oh. To stand back and let these young people take up the torch.”

  Mara nodded. “We’ve still got so much to teach them. They’re not ready.”

  Luke tightened his hand on her shoulder for an instant. “I wasn’t ready,” he said flatly. “At least you were well trained. I can’t believe the trust Obi-Wan must’ve had, when he let Vader … Father … strike him down, on the first Death Star.”

  “Trust in you,” Mara said.

  “And in the Force.” Luke rested his head against hers. “You’re right, this isn’t easy. But that’s why I’m not as worried about Jacen … as Jaina is.”

  “As I am,” she admitted.

  “The Force is strong in him. We want to show him the right path, and we’ll do our best to influence his choice, but in the end …”

  “It’s his life.” She fought back a yawn. Stang, she was tired! “And Anakin’s, and Jaina’s. I hope you haven’t been trying to read their future.”

  Luke shook his head. “I tried once, about a week ago. The future has always been in motion, but now it’s spinning so fast that everything contradicts everything else. And only one future will actually play out.”

  “Uncanny, isn’t it?”

  Luke nodded. “Mara, you’re exhausted. Would you let me refresh you? With the Force, I mean.”

  “I knew what you meant.” Farmboy, she wanted to add, amused but touched. Always the innocent, even after almost seven years of marriage.

  And even after that long, she still hated giving in, to him or anyone, but she’d taught the Solo kids that teamwork meant helping each other. The hardest part about giving in to Luke was taking the first step.

  So she usually reached out to him first.

  “Yes,” she said, and it came out like a sigh. “Please.”

  It came at the edge of her spirit, like a touch of white-hot light. It spread strength, and unwavering approval, and a love as deep and as strong as a Mon Calamari tide. She plunged into it, inhaled it, bathed in it. She reveled in the surge of renewal, and then she splashed it back at Luke as hard as she could.

  When she opened her eyes, she was lying beside him, twining her arms and her body with his, and his lips were pressed tightly to hers.

  She shut her eyes and drew him closer yet.

  Jacen braced himself as Jaina jinked past commercial buildings. This part of the city’s layout just wasn’t complex enough for shaking off pursuers, and the hoverpod’s engine had no guts at all.

  What did he expect a preacher to own? “Try to get out of their line of sight,” Jacen suggested. “Then put it on autopilot landing cycle, and we’ll bail.”

  “Oh, great idea. Stellar.”

  “Got a better one?”

  She rounded a corner into a straightaway, poured on speed for several seconds, then ducked up a side alley.

  “Nope,” she said, flicking levers. “Out.”

  She popped the hatch on the pod, which was still streaking up the alley at an impressive speed, pushed one raised button, and jumped.

  He followed, falling hard without his Jedi skills. At least he’d been trained to roll gracefully, absorbing most of the impact.

  “This way,” he called.

  Jaina pressed to her feet and followed him into a gap between buildings.

  “Are you okay?” he demanded.

  “I’m not the idiot who’s refusing to use the Force.”

  They waited several minutes, but pursuit didn’t come.

  He tried phrasing it differently. “How well can you really see?”

  She straightened her mask. “I flew, didn’t I?”

  “Yeah, you did. Pretty well.”

  “All right,” Jaina said. “We’re going to be Duros for a while.”

  She must’ve blurred their faces, because they had n
o trouble getting to a private dock, where she slid a hand across an ID reader, and they left on a small private shuttle.

  Jacen buckled in. His conscience jabbed him. Besides piggybacking on Jaina’s Force use, this was stealing.

  But he didn’t want to go the long way around, to get to the rattletrap shuttle he’d brought up from Gateway dome.

  Jaina set a course that was little more than a braked fall from geosynchronous orbit.

  “Look out below,” he murmured.

  They were on final approach when the comm unit hissed. “Shuttle on approach vector,” a male voice said, “decelerate and identify yourself. This dome is on alert.”

  “This is, um, NM-KO two eight,” Jacen said, frowning at Jaina as he read off an ID plate. “Decelerating now.” Then he added, “Is Administrator Organa Solo available? Mom, are you there?”

  The next voice was his mother’s. “Jacen,” she exclaimed. “Are Jaina and Anakin with you?”

  “Just Jaina.”

  “I take it she’s flying,” Leia said. “Slow it down just a little more, Jaina. How many passengers could you squeeze into that shuttle? Is it hyperspace-capable?”

  That sounded ominous, after what Jaina had told him. “Looks like …” Jacen eyed the control panel, then peered back over the seats. “Room for four or five, and there is a hyperdrive.”

  “Good. Park it …” Leia gave landing instructions. To Jacen’s surprise, they were to head for the main entry. Gateway must’ve canceled the quarantine.

  Jaina slipped the little craft under the edge of a fog-shrouded landing bay next to a blast crater. Figures in orange chem suits swarmed several freighters and haulers, cleaning Duro-crud off rectennae and viewports, scrambling in and out of access hatches. Jacen took one last breath of good air, then followed Jaina toward the nearest boarding tube.

  At its inside end, he heard his mother give a curt order. He turned left, toward that voice. Inside a duracrete-block room that’d been off-limits during quarantine, three sloping consoles with holographic displays clustered under a small screen representing local space. The room smelled like someone had eaten a late dinner in here. His mom bent over one comm unit, wearing a white scarf wrapped around and around her head—and her lightsaber, dangling over her SELCORE-blue coveralls.