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Chapter 9 Katrina looked up sharply from the cold mush that was being passed off as the mid-day meal. She had felt something. It had been brief yet familiar and welcome. A mind had touched hers for one half of a millisecond and startled her. It had been searching, almost instinctually. Their minds had touched, almost merged for that tiny piece of time and she could understand what it was thinking and feeling almost as well as she could understand her own. There had been confusion, even some fear. It had just awoken from a long, drugged slumber and entered a pained body that was more interested in sleeping or dying than waking. When the mind recognized that she was not who or what it was searching for it moved on to continue the search, leaving Katrina to feel cold and alone again. She did not dare dwell on the identity of the mind’s owner, though she knew very well who it was. She grinned to herself, unable not to, and continued shoveling small bites of the garbage she had been served through the small mouth opening of her mask. Tabi secretly wondered about the girl’s good mood but did not ask. She had seen too many days when Katrina was obviously feeling down or weathered far more than a 13-year-old, and was glad for the change. She simply sat in her worn old chair and listened to Katrina hum as they worked. She took note of the fact that even though the girl’s mind seemed distant and unable to focus her work was perfect. “You know,” Cha-Lee’s mind broke into Katrina’s thoughts that night as she lay in bed. “Isn’t it great?” Katrina couldn’t help grinning into the darkness. “He’s alive!” “There are a lot of people in the galaxy that would not consider that fact good news.” “That is no reason for her to wish him or any other dead,” Xenritha, Zanespot of the Present, put in sternly. “A Zanespot should never celebrate death,” Cha-Lee, Zanespot of the Future, agreed with the man who had once taught him the ways of the Force. “Nor should they celebrate the life of one who caused as many deaths as that one.” “He’s changed,” Katrina’s protested. “He has barely opened his eyes and you proclaim him a saint, completely forgiven for all his crimes?” “He does have much to answer for still,” Xenritha agreed gently. “You know full well that he redeemed himself before he fell into that coma,” Katrina argued. “He killed Palpatine!” “Don’t what is in his own best interest to do does not redeem a man, especially one such as Darth Vader.” “What of me, then? He saved my life before that. Twice if you count it properly!” “Katrina,” Xenritha’s mind spoke gently but imparted a firmness that the girl had not previously been witness to, “you must accept that no matter how much you want Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader to be pure and good he is not so and you must be careful not to blind yourself to that fact.” “Yes, sir,” Katrina answered meekly, though far from convinced. |
