'They had a camp for us. I was there. That's where Depa found us. You think things are ugly here? You should see what she saved us from.
'So maybe we went from living there to dying here. So? You think there's a difference? You think that was better?
'You go live in a cage if you want. Me? I'll die a free man. That's what Depa is to us.
'That's who you're taking away.' She would be leaving you soon, regardless.
[Rostu]: 'Says you.' She is dying, Nick. The war is killing her. This planet is killing her.
The Korunnai are killing her.
[Rostu]: 'Nobody here would ever hurt her-' Not on purpose.
But she is drowning in your anger, Nick.
[Rostu]: 'Hey, I'm just mildly cranky.' Not you personally. Ail of you. This whole place.
The unending violence. without hope, or remedy.
A Jedi's connection to the Force amplifies everything about us: it invests our smallest actions with the greatest conceivable weight. It makes us more of whatever we already are. If we are calm, it gives us serenity. If we are angry, it fills us with the rage of a god. Anger is a trap. You might think of it as a narcotic, not unlike glitterstim. Even the slightest taste can leave you with an appetite that never fades.
This is why we Jedi must strive always to build peace within ourselves: what is within will be reflected by what is without. The Force is One. We are part of the Force; it will always be, at least partially, whatever we are.
Just as it is too late for Kar Vaster to become a Jedi, it is too late for Depa to become a lorpelek. She is willing to give her life to help your people. Are you willing to take it?
[Rostu]: 'Hey, don't look at me like that. I'm onyour side, remember?' So.
The Halleck must be insystem by now; we should be seeing a lander's vapor trail any minute.
And Depa is headed up to meet us.
[Rostu]: 'She is? What, you can feel her?' Not directly. But-characteristically-part of her plan to keep Kar and his Akk Guards out of our way included retrieving my lightsaber. In details like this-these little considerations, her automatic kindness-I find my hope that she is not wholly lost.
Though I can rebuild my blade, she- There was a sadness- Melancholy resignation: that is the best I can describe her expression, when she promised my lightsaber's return. Though the weapon is itself no great thing, she seemed near tears.
'I could not bear for your journey here to cost you anything more than it already has,' she told me this morning, as I left her to come up here to wait.
I can feel clearly the approach of my lightsaber; and now I feel hers, as well. Winding toward us through the natural fissures in the rock that make a passageway from this cave to the interior caverns. It is odd-in an apprehensive, premonition-of-dreadful-tragedy sort of way-that I can feel Depa, the Depa I know, only in her weapon.
[Rostu]: 'Urn, does that appre-pre-whatever of dreadful tragedy by any chance translate into Basic as,' have a bad feeling about this? Because, y'know, now that you mention it-' I feel it too-but I have had only bad feelings ever since I came to this planet.
[Rostu]: 'I've been wondering-I mean, we've been up here a long time. Haven't you started to wonder if Depa didn't send us up here so she could get Kar out of the way? If she sent us up here to get us out of the way?' This has occurred to me. I have refused to allow myself to consider it. Depa is not like that; she is not given to trickery, much less betrayal. She has said she will join us here. That means she vv,'7,'join us. Here.
She's only steps away- [Rostu]: 'Or maybe, y'know: not.' You.
[Rostu]: 'That's far enough. Stop! I mean it.' [The final sound on Master Windu's Haruun Kal journal is a nonverbal vocalization similar to a large predator's warning growl.] [END JOURNAL] THE TRAP N
ick stood in a classic shooter's stance, slug pistol in his right hand, left shoulder forward, right arm straight across his body, left hand cupping his right and the pistol's butt.
His target was a needle-pointed grin just visible within the fissure at the back of the cave.
Mace came to his feet smoothly but deliberately, without any sudden motion. 'Don't do it, Nick.' 'I'd rather not,' Nick admitted. 'But I will if I have to.' 'I've seen him block blaster bolts. He can do the same with bullets. You won't have a chance.' 'Says you.' Nick's voice was uncharacteristically calm and flat, and his hands were as steady as the mountain around them. 'You haven't seen me shoot.' 'This is the wrong time to show me.' Mace put one hand on Nick's arm and let its tired weight pull the pistol down. 'Come on out, Kar.' The darkness in the fissure gathered itself into the shape of the lor pelek. His vibroshields were pushed back onto his upper arms.
In his hands he held two lightsabers.
Mace sagged as all hope and faith drained out of him. Only exhaustion remained.
He had been trying so hard, for so long, to believe in her, and in himself, and in the Force.
He had made himself believe: he had ruthlessly disciplined his mind against any dread of failure.
After all, this was Depa, his Padawan, almost his child-he had known her all her life- All but her first few months, and her last few months.
Vaster walked past Nick without a sideways glance, holding the lightsabers on his open palms.
A peace offering.
She asked me to- 'I know,' Mace murmured.
