Part 6 (1/2)

”True. But she's the only one you're, uh, involved with.”

Jos raised an eyebrow. ”What makes you say that?” Uli grinned, just like the big kid he was. ”Come on, Jos, We share a cube. It's not that big, and a couple of plastoid panels down the middle doesn't exactly make it soundproof.”

Jos felt uncomfortable. ”I thought we were pretty circ.u.mspect.”

”Not really. Besides, it's obvious even to people who don't live in the same clutch with you. She okay?”

”She's fine. She had to go up to MedStar for a CME cla.s.s. She'll be back in a day or two.”

”You miss her.”

It wasn't a question, and Jos supposed he could have slapped the kid down for it, but it sounded like a sympathetic comment, not a smarmy one. ”Yeah. I miss her.”

There was an awkward pause. ”I think I'll go get a bite to eat,” Jos said. ”Join me?”

”Maybe later. I need to check on a patient first.”

Barriss had been practicing with her lightsaber diligently since the accident in which she had cut herself. There had been a little hesitation at first, a concern that had slowed her moves, but that had gradually faded, and now she was back up to speed. Whatever the problem was, it had not come back, and so her confidence had risen, even though she still could not imagine what had caused the slip. A move she had made ten thousand times was not one about which she would normally think-in fact, she shouldn't have to think about it.

Thought was far too slow.

She also had no idea what had created the sudden blast of cold air. She'd checked with others in the area, as well as some of the techs. No one else had experienced it, and no one had any explanation for what might have caused it.

It was tempting to believe it had been her imagination, But she knew it hadn't. In addition to the croaker bushes, she had felt energy of some sort rippling through the Force.

She trusted in the Force; had done so since the first time it had surged to life within her and she'd understood what it was. She had also learned quickly what it was not. It was not, first and foremost, a protector, or a weapon, or a mentor-though it could, at times, manifest aspects of all those things. The Force was what it was, no more, no less. Errors in wielding it belonged to the user, She had just finished the section of Form III in which she danced against four imaginary opponents, all of whom were using blasters. The greatest Jedi who ever lived could not stop four bolts fired from different angles at the same moment, but that wasn't the point.

Jedi combat principles were founded in the concept of constantly reaching for perfection.

A Jedi began the battle with the idea of facing multiple attackers, who would be armed, and skilled. If you trained for combat believing that you would always be outnumbered and outgunned and that you could still prevail, you stood a much better chance than if you allowed in the idea of defeat because the odds were against you.

Someone approached Barriss from behind. She reached out with the Force . . .

Uli.

”Hey,” came his voice.

Barriss turned, pleased that she had identified him be-fore he spoke, and amused at herself for taking pride in such a trivial thing. ”Hey, yourself.”

”How's the foot? No residual impairment?”

”No, it's fine. Completely healed.” As he smiled in rueful admiration of her healing abilities, she asked, ”Are you going off to hunt for flare-wings again?”

He shook his head. ”Just finished my s.h.i.+ft in the OT, and 1 needed to move around a little.” He looked at her, not quite meeting her eyes. ”May I ask you something?”

Barriss extinguished her lightsaber. ”Sure.”

”How can you be a healer and use that lightsaber like you do?”

”Practice. Lots and lots of practice.”

Uli smiled and shook his head, but before he could reply, Barriss said, ”You really mean why, not how, right?”

He nodded. ”Right.”

A wingstinger buzzed past, looking for prey smaller than the two people standing in the hot sun. Barriss pointed to the hard shade of a nearby broadleaf tree, and they walked to it.

”Since these wars, the Jedi have become primarily warriors,” she said. ”Made more powerful by their abilities to use the Force. Throughout history, as guardians, we have always sought to use our powers for the good of the galaxy-thus, for defense, rather than aggression. Even so, a warrior must know how to fight at levels from full-out battles to one-on-one personal combat. And part of that is taking responsibility for our actions.

”We believe that, if you must slay someone, if you must snuff out a life, then you must be willing to look that being straight in the eyes while you do it. The killing of a fellow sentient, even one who richly deserves it, is not a thing to be done lightly. Nor should it be a thing done easily. You should be close enough to see what it takes, to understand the pain and fear that enemies suffer when you dispatch them. You must feel some of their death.”

”So that's why the lightsaber,” he said.

”That's why the lightsaber. Because it puts you nextto an enemy, face to face, not at some far remove. You can use a holoscoped blaster to put a bolt through your opponent a kilometer away-it's more efficient, and there's much less risk to you in so doing. But you don't hear the death rattle, you don't smell the fear, you don't have to wipe your enemy's blood from your face. If you must kill, then you need to know how great the cost is-to your opponent, and to you.”

”Okay, I understand that part. But-”How can I be a healer and a warrior at the same time?”

He nodded.

”They are but opposite sides of the same coin. Take a life, spare a life-there's always a balance. Most cultures teach that people are a mix of good and evil-seldom all of one or the other. In most folk, there is an innate decency. They live lives that are more virtuous than not, but there's always an option to choose bad over good.

”I can't create life, Uli, but I can restore it. Being a healer helps me keep m balance the fact that I have-and no doubt will again-taken lives. Sometimes, an opponent doesn't deserve the ultimate penalty. If I amputate a hand or an arm, I will have accomplished what needed to be done. Allowing this enemy to die, then, is wrong. Being able to repair what damage Fve caused can thus be of value.”

”But not alljedi are healers,” Uli pointed out. ”True. But all Jedi are taught basic medical skills and first-aid techniques. And sometimes, of course, we ate called upon to heal our friends-and our own-as well as our enemies.”

He nodded again. ”Yes, I can see that.”

”Then why the question?”

He looked at the ground, as if his boots had suddenly become fascinating. Then he looked back at her. ”I'm a surgeon. It runs in my family, but it's also what I've wanted to do ever since I can remember. Fix patients, cure them, make them well. And yet . . .”

He was quiet, thinking. Barriss waited. She already knew what he was going to admit-the Force had told her, loud and clear-but it was important that he say it himself.

”And yet,” Uli said, ”there's a part of me that wants to kill. To hunt down the people who set this war in motion and exterminate them, by any and all means. I can feel it-that killing anger. I'm . . . that's not how I want to see myself.”

Barriss smiled, a small and sad expression. ”Of course not. Decent folk don't want to travel that path. Good people, people who love and care, would rather not have those feelings.”

”So how do I get rid of them?”

”You don't. You acknowledge them, but you don't allow them to control you. Feelings don't come with 'right' or 'wrong' labels, Uli. You feel how you feel. You are only responsible for how you act.

”That's where choice comes in. Even the Force, a great power for good, can be used for ill,”