Sacrifice

"Mara, are you okay? You're not well, are you?"

"Don't even think about trying that one. If you acknowledge the terrible things you've done, and whatever's left of Leia's son is still functioning, then come with me right now to the Temple. We'll get the whole Council together and we'll deprogram you."

Jacen put his hands in his pockets and looked down at the floor. He still had that silly grin on his face, but it was fading a little around the eyes.

"Mara," he said, with an exaggerated softness that made her want to punch him. "Mara, I think you're forgetting that I'm joint Chief of State now, and I don't have time for this emotional outpouring, because whatever Ben's been telling you—"

He was digging himself deeper into the pit. She'd really hoped he'd step back, and she knew she was just as stupid for hoping as she'd been for turning a blind eye to his darkness in the first place.

"There's no Ben in this, Jacen." She stopped her finger a fraction short of jabbing him in the chest. "Leave Ben out of it. If you so much as breathe on him, I'll skin you alive, and that's not a euphemism. Last chance. Drop this Sith garbage now, or take what's coming."

There. She'd said it. Sith. Jacen's grin had vanished completely, and he looked like a total stranger. The Emperor had had yellow eyes, she recalled; they said he'd once had a kindly face with normal blue ones, but if Jacen's turned yellow, he couldn't possibly have looked any more alien to her than he did right then. There was nothing supernatural about his ambition, callousness, and arrogance.

"Good night, Aunt Mara," he said, and walked away.

She didn't watch him go. She didn't need to.

This is all your fault, girl. You should have listened to Luke. He was never fooled by all that sophistry, and you stopped him dealing with it because you couldn't deal with a teenage boy like any mom has to. The least you