The target is the enemy's will to fight.

Wars are won not by killing enemies, but by terrorizing them until they give up and go home.

"That's why I brought you to Haruun Kal," she said. "I wanted to show you what winning soldiers will look like." She pointed past the fire. "That is the Jedi of the future, Mace. Right there." She was pointing at Kar Vastor.

Which is why at this black hour, long after midnight and long before dawn, as the glowvines weaken and predators go quiet, when only sleep has meaning, I lie upon my bedroll and stare at the black leaves above, and think of tomorrow.

Tomorrow we leave this place.

Back to worlds where showers are just clean water, instead of pro-bi mist. Back to worlds where we sleep indoors, on bedrolls, with clean bleached-fiber sheets.

Back to worlds that still lie, however temporarily, within the Galaxy of Peace.

FINAL ENTRY T

he air above the Lorshan Pass was so clear that the sky-colored peak Mace could barely discern in the distant south might have been Grandfather's Shoulder itself. There was a pall of brown haze down in that direction that he suspected was the smog over Pelek Baw. In the nearer distance, tiny silver flecks of gunships patrolled the jungle canopy below the pass. A lot of gunships: Mace had counted at least six flights, possibly as many as ten, weaving among the hills.

The occasional silent flash of cannonfire, or curling black smoke from flame projectors, he actually found comforting: it meant the militia thought the guerrillas were still down among the trees.

He sat cross-legged on the shadowed dirt of the cave mouth's floor, his datapad slung on his shoulder. Only two meters away, brilliant late-afternoon sunlight slanted across the cliffside meadow: a grassy sward, relatively flat for a few tens of meters before it curled over the lip of the cliff and dropped half a klick to the pass below.

Easily large enough for a Republic Sienar Systems Jadfhu-clzss lander.

Mace determinedly avoided staring up into the sky. It would get there when it got there.

Only minutes to go, now.

He found himself tallying the list of injuries Haruun Kal had inflicted upon him, from the stun- blast bruises through flame burns, cracked ribs, a concussion, and a human bite wound. Not to mention innumerable insect bites and stings, some kind of rash on his right thigh, and blistering around his toes that was probably a persistent fungal infection.

And those were only the physical injuries. They would heal.

The nonphysical injuries-to his confidence, his principles, his moral certainties. to his heart- Those couldn't be treated with spray bandages and a bacta patch.

Behind him, Nick's pacing had scuffed a path through the thin layer of dirt to the stone of the cave floor. He picked up his rifle from where it leaned against the wall, checked the action for the dozenth time, and set it back down again. He did the same with the slug pistol holstered at his thigh, then looked around for something else to do. Not finding anything, he went back to pacing. "How much longer?" "Not long." "That's what you said the last three times I asked." "I suppose it depends on what you mean by long." "You sure she's coming?" "Yes," Mace lied.

"What if they get here before she does? I mean, we're not gonna have time to lag around waiting for her-not with gunships and who-knows-what-all tracking the lander through the atmosphere. If she's not here-" "We'll worry about that if it happens." "Yeah." Nick started pacing from the back to the front of the cave, instead of side to side.

"Yeah." "Nick." "Yeah?" "Settle down." The young Korun stopped, winced an apology at Mace, adjusted his tunic, and ran his thumbs around the drawstring waistband of his pants as though they were chafing him. "I don't like waiting." "I've noticed." Nick squatted alongside the Jedi Master and nodded at the data-pad. "Got any games on that thing? Shee, I'd even play dejarik. And I hate dejarik." Mace shook his head. "It's my journal." "I've seen you talking into it. Like a diary?" "Something like that. It's a personal log of my experiences on Haruun Kal. For the Temple Archives." "Wow. Am I'm there?" "Yes. And Chalk, and Besh, and Lesh. Depa and Kar Vaster, and the children from the outpost-" "Wow," Nick repeated. "I mean, wow. That's really cool. Do all Jedi do that?" Mace stared out over the rugged terrain below the pass. "I don't think Depa has." He sighed, and once more stopped himself from checking the sky. "Why do you ask?" "It's just-well, it's weird, y'know? Thinking about it. I'm gonna be in the Jedi Archives." "Yes." "Twenty-five thousand years of records. It's like-like I'll be part of the history of the whole galaxy!" "You would be, regardless." "Oh, yeah, sure, I know: everybody is. But not everybody's in the Jedi Archives, are they? I mean, my name'll be there forever. It's like being immortal." Mace thought of Lesh, and of Phloremirlla Tenk. Of Terrel and Rankin. Of corpses burned to namelessness, left on the ground at the outpost.

"It is," he said slowly, "as close to immortality as any of us will ever come." "Could I listen to some?" Nick tried an encouraging nod. "Not like I'm nosy or anything. But it'd pass the time-" "Are you certain you want to know what I think of you?" "Sure I'm-why? Is it bad?" he asked with an anticipatory wince. "It's really bad, isn't it." "I am teasing you, Nick. I can't play it for you. It's encrypted, and only the archive masters at the Temple have the code key." "What, you can't even listen to it yourself?" Mace hefted the datapad in his hand; it seemed such a small, insubstantial thing, to carry so much doubt and pain.

"Not only does encryption keep its contents secure, it protects me from the temptation to go back and edit entries to make myself look better." "You'd do that?" "The opportunity has not presented itself. If I had the chance. I can't really say. I hope that I would resist. But Jedi or not, I am still human." He shrugged. "I should make a last entry, preparatory to my formal report to the Council on our return to Coruscant." "Can I listen?" "I suppose you can. I have nothing to say that you don't already know." FROM THE PRIVATE JOURNALS OF MACE WlNDU [FINAL HARUUN KAL ENTRY] Major Rostu and I wait in a cave at the Korun base in the Lorshan Pass; Depa- [Male voice identified as NICK ROSTU, major (bvt), GAR]: "Hey, is that on? So they can, like, hear me?" Yes. It's- [Rostu]: "Wow. So some weird alien Jedi a thousand years from now can pull this out and it'll be like I'm saying Hi to him from a thousand years ago, huh? Hi, you creepy Jedi monkeyhunker, whoever you-" Major.

[Rostu]: "Yeah, I know: Shut up, Nick." [sound of a heavy sigh] Depa is to meet us here.

She has some strategem to get Kar Vaster and his Akk Guards far enough away for us all to make a clean extraction; she did not offer details, and I did not ask.

I was afraid to hear what she might have told me.

The signal was sent early this morning, using the same technique her sporadic reports had.