"Thank you," Lorana said, searching his face. Therewas a family resemblance there, she could see. Strange that she'd never noticed it before. "You keep up on such things?"

"My parents do." His mouth tightened. "Ourparents do," he corrected himself.

"Yes," she murmured. "I'm afraid I don't know anything about them. Or about you."

"No, of course not," he said. "ButI know everything aboutyou. Everything, from your youngling training, to your apprenticeship to Jorus C'baoth, to your first lightsaber, to your elevation to Jedi Knighthood."

"I'm impressed," Lorana said, trying a hesitant smile.

"Don't be," he said, not returning the smile. "I only know because my parents had a friend who still worked inside the Temple. They rammed your every accomplishment down my throat. They loved you, you know." He snorted gently. "No. Of course you don't. You never bothered to find out."

He dropped his eyes from her face and took a sip from his mug. Lorana gazed at him, wincing at the anger and bitterness flowing toward her like the steam from his drink. What had she done to make him so angry? "We weren't allowed as Padawans to know anything about our families," she said into the silence. "Even now that I'm a Jedi, it's still frowned on."

"Yeah," he said. "Sure."

"And there are good reasons for it," she continued doggedly. "There are many worlds in the Republic where family connections and position are the most important parts of their culture. A Jedi who knew which family she'd come from might find it impossible to deal impartially in any of her people's disputes."

"Doesn't stop the family from findingyou, though, does it?" he shot back. "Because mine sure did. Even after your precious Jedi got them fired, they still managed to keep tabs on you-"

"Wait a minute," Lorana interrupted him. "What do you mean, they got them fired? Who got them fired?"

"You Jedi have hearing problems?" he demanded. "I already told you: one of your high and mighty Jedi. Mom and Dad were civilian workers at the Temple, handling electronics maintenance and repair in the public areas. They were good at it, too. Only after you were taken, they got fired. Your Jedi didn't want them even in the same building with you, I guess."

Lorana felt her stomach tighten. She wasn't familiar with this particular incident, though there had been others she'd heard of. But it was clear that it would do no good to give her brother the rationale behind the Temple's strict isolation policy. "Were they able to find other jobs?"

"No, we all starved to death," he retorted. "Of course they found other jobs. Lower-paying jobs, of course, jobs where they had to scramble to get us packed and moved because no one had even bothered to tell them they couldn't stay on at the Temple once you were there. But that's not the point."

"Then whatis the point?"

For a long minute he just stared at her, his turmoil surging like the ocean's edge in a winter storm. "You Jedi think you're perfect," he said at last. "You think you know what's right for everyone and everything. Well, you're not, and you don't."

Lorana felt her throat tighten. "What happened to you, Dean?" she asked gently.

"Oh, so now it'sDean, is it?" he said scornfully. "Nowyou want to pretend you're my loving big sister? You think you can wave your hand or your precious lightsaber and make it all up to me?"

"Makewhat up to you?" Lorana persisted. "Please. I want to know."

"I thought you Jedi knew everything."

Lorana sighed. "No, of course not."

"Well, you'd never know that by listening to our parents," he bit out. "You were the perfect one, the one all the rest of us were measured against. Lorana would have done this, Lorana would have done that; Lorana would have said this, Lorana wouldnever had said that. It was like living with a minor deity. And so completely absurd-they couldn't possibly have the slightest idea what you might actually do or say in some situation. You could barely evenwalk when they sent you away."

His eyes hardened even further. "But of course, youwere away, weren't you? That's what made the whole thing work. You were never around to make mistakes or lose your temper or drop dinner all over the floor. They could set up their little shrine to you without ever having to see anything that might burst the bubble of perfection they'd built around you."

He scooped up his mug, but set it down again without drinking. "ButI know," he growled, staring into it. "I've been watching you. You're not perfect. You're not even close to perfect."

Lorana thought back across the wearying years of her training, and C'baoth's constant criticism. "No," she murmured. "I'm not."

"You're not very observant, either." He gestured at her. "Let me see that fancy weapon of yours."

"My lightsaber?" Frowning, she slid it out of her belt and set it on the table.

"Yeah, that's the one," he said, making no move to touch it. "That's an amethyst, right?"

"Yes," she said, focusing on the activation stud. "It was a gift from some people Master C'baoth and I helped in one of Coruscant's midlevels."

Jinzler shook his head. "No, it was a gift from your parents. They knew the people, and asked them to give it to you." His mouth twisted. "And you couldn't even figure that out, could you?"

"No, of course not," Lorana said, her frustration with this man and his anger threatening to bubble over into anger of her own. "How could I?"

"Because you're a Jedi," he shot back. "You're supposed to know everything. I'll bet your Master C'baoth knew where it came from."

Lorana took a careful breath. "What do you want from me, Dean?"

"Hey, you're the one who came looking for me just now, not the other way around," he countered. "What doyou want?"

For a moment she gazed into his eyes. Whatdid she want from him? "I want you to accept what is," she told him. "The past is gone. Neither of us can change it."

"You want me tonot change the past?" he said scornfully. "Yeah, okay, I think I can handle that."

"I want you to accept that, whatever your feelings about your-about our-parents, your value isn't defined by their opinions or judgments," she continued, ignoring the sarcasm.

He snorted. "Sorry, but you already said not to change the past," he said. "Anything else?"

She looked him straight in the eye. "I want you to stop hating," she said quietly. "To stop hating yourself. . and to stop hating me."

She saw the muscles work briefly in his neck. "I don't hate," he said, his voice steady. "Hate is an emotion, and Jedi don't have emotions. Right?"