“Look what I discovered,” she said, holding a broad leaf out to Vernestra. “The leaves on the trees here have some sort of waxy coating on them, most likely to protect against this rain. It’s pretty thick, so if we’re stuck here for a while we might be able to figure out how to use it to protect our skin.”
“That’s a great idea,” Vernestra said.
“We might be able to coat our boots, as well. Sort of like the waterproofing droids have.”
“I’d say that’s a better idea than you know,” Imri said. He stood near the entrance and stared out at where they’d all just come from. His expression was troubled, and he chewed his lower lip. “Look.”
Everyone, even J-6 and the little scout droid, crowded into the mouth of the cave. Vernestra’s heart fell as she looked out.
The rain came down in heavy sheets, the purple lightning illuminating the night-dark landscape in regular intervals. It had gotten dark so quickly that no one had bothered to break out one of the lamps yet, so they were all able to easily see what Imri pointed to.
Outside of the cave the acidic water rushed down the hill in a torrent. Smoke billowed as the underbrush was burned away by the caustic rain, while the trees seemed to be untouched. If they hadn’t found the cave and the safety and protection it provided, it was doubtful they would have been okay. They would have been washed away in the current, the water burning them alive. Just considering the possibilities made Vernestra shudder.
Surviving this moon was going to be harder than she had thought.
While everyone else got as comfortable as possible, Imri sat cross-legged in the entryway of the cave and watched the rain.
It had rained like this at Port Haileap during what everyone called the Wet Days. Entire weeks of rain until everything was damp and sticky, until his tabard drooped and his lightsaber sizzled every time he drew it for practice bouts with Douglas. But this rain was nothing like that. It ran past the cave in rivers and streams that burned away all the brush and smaller weeds that struggled to grow in between the trees, leaving behind treacherous puddles that would burn through even the best pair of boots. Imri and Vernestra would be fine for a while walking through such a storm, and even J-6 wouldn’t have to worry right away. But Avon and Honesty would be in real trouble if they got caught out in such a rain, so the downpour simultaneously made Imri miss Port Haileap and worry about what would come next.
Imri closed his eyes and reached out to the Force, slowing his breathing as he began his meditation. Douglas had always told Imri to meditate whenever he had a problem, and Imri had found that taking a few moments to slow his breathing and fully immerse himself in the Force centered his mind and gave him time to puzzle out the answers to even the strangest questions; he needed that feeling now more than ever. He was angry and confused and sad, and the maelstrom of emotions was off-putting and unbalancing in a way Imri had never experienced before. So it was natural that he would go back to what had always worked for him in the past.
But thinking about Douglas only made those feelings worse, so Imri sighed and closed his eyes and considered Vernestra’s lightsaber whip instead.
Seeing Vernestra’s weapon, so special and different, had set off a cascade of emotions in Imri that he did not like. He was more than in awe of Vernestra; he was jealous. And envy was one of the many doorways to the dark side.
Imri had heard tales of Jedi who had gone to the dark side, like those ancient Jedi who had started the Sith, and he’d studied the archives in the Port Haileap library about groups of Force users with fewer rules, like the Nightsisters and the Guardians of Javin, races and cults who found something of value in the chaotic, destructive side of the Force. But Imri had never heard of a Jedi going dark in modern times, and he could not imagine wanting to be one of those people. He found the dark side unsettling. Not terrifying—because it was required to maintain the balance, and like any Padawan he knew the importance of equilibrium in keeping the galaxy moving as it should—but definitely a thing to be wary of. Imri had never felt the pull of the dark side, but seeing Vernestra, realizing how much more powerful she was and that the Force had definitely chosen her for great things, well . . .
He wanted to know that he had been chosen for something important.
The jealousy made his stomach queasy and his appetite disappear, and if there was one thing Imri loved it was food. So the feeling was more than just an annoyance. It was a hostile invader that Imri wanted no part of.
And yet, there he was, anxious to take Vernestra’s lightsaber apart and see the modifications she’d made to the standard design to give herself such a formidable weapon.
Imri’s eyes flew open. Beyond the entrance to the cave, the rain showed no sign of letting up, but Imri knew what he would do. Perhaps if he took apart his lightsaber and meditated on it he would get some sort of calling to modify the design to his weapon, as well. Ever since he’d taken his saber apart a few weeks before, it had felt wrong, like having something stuck between his teeth. And it showed in the blade itself, its weakness and unsteadiness. His jealousy was misplaced, but maybe if the Force knew he was willing to try new things he would get some kind of message, as well. He was willing to give anything a try to quiet the churn of his emotions.
Imri pulled out his lightsaber and a handkerchief he kept in a belt pouch. He spread out the handkerchief and placed the lightsaber on top of it. He didn’t have any tools. He’d decided they were too heavy to carry and had left the rudimentary tool kit that was standard to the maintenance shuttle, so he would have to make do.
“Hey, Imri, what’s going on?”
Imri looked up to find Avon smiling down at him. He smiled back. The girl was always getting in trouble, but that was part of what made her so much fun to be around. Nothing intimidated her, and Imri found her boldness inspiring. Plus, he enjoyed the strength of her emotions, and he could use a little distraction right about now.
“Oh, nothing, just checking out my lightsaber,” he said.
A burst of happy excitement came from Avon as she plopped down next to him. “Is it okay if I watch? I keep trying to get Vern to let me hold her lightsaber, but she keeps telling me no.”
Imri laughed a little. “A Jedi’s lightsaber is very personal. It’s kind of like asking to borrow someone’s underclothes.”
Avon made a face. “Okay, point taken. Can you tell me how it works?”
“Sure, nothing wrong with that.” Imri twisted the lightsaber apart and began to point out pieces to Avon. “The entire thing is powered by this battery, and my kyber crystal focuses the energy, which I think you already know. These here are the cycling field energizers, and this right here is the focusing lens. It pushes the energy generated by the kyber out the blade emitter, and the crystal also contains the blade so that the energy stays concentrated.”
Avon nodded. “Otherwise you would have a blade that just kept going and going.”
Imri laughed. “Yep! And that’s basically how a lightsaber works.”
“Amazing,” Avon said, and Imri could sense that she was being genuine. Excitement seemed to spark off of her, stronger than usual. There was something else, as well, an emotion that Imri couldn’t decipher, and before he got the chance to try, they were interrupted by Vernestra.
“Hey, did you two eat?” she asked while braiding her hair. Not a Padawan’s braid, just a way to keep her hair contained. It was one more reminder of how different they were, and Imri touched his Padawan’s braid self-consciously.
“I’m not hungry,” Avon said, and her belly growled loudly, belying her words.
“Avon, you have to eat.”
“Not as long as the only thing we have to eat is joppa stew. Sorry, Vern, but just the smell of that makes me want to barf.”
Imri smiled. “If you look in my bag I think there might be some nuna jerky rations. They were buried, but I found a couple at the bottom.” He gestured to where he’d thrown his pack against a nearby rock.
Avon’s eyes lit u
p. “Really? Thanks, Imri. You’re the best. Thanks for showing me your lightsaber.” Avon walked to the back of the cave, and as she went Vernestra watched her.
“Is everything okay?” the Mirialan asked, and Imri frowned.
“Of course. I mean, outside of the obvious. We are still stranded on a very hostile moon with no way to get back to Port Haileap,” he said.
Vernestra nodded, her expression pensive. “I meant are you okay, Imri?”
His heart pounded a bit and his mouth went dry. Could she feel the uncertainty in him? Master Douglas had been such an important part of his life, and with him gone Imri was not sure what to do with himself. Douglas had always believed Imri could be a great Jedi even when Imri had not believed it, and with his master gone Imri was lost.
But that was not a very Jedi feeling, that sense of worry and sadness, so Imri pushed the emotions aside and said, “I’m great. I’m always great. You don’t have to worry about me.”
Vernestra sighed. “I know things are hard right now, Imri. I sense a lot of uncertainty in you, and I’m sorry for any part I might have caused in that. But once we get back to civilization we’ll find you a new master and a lot of these doubts will be settled. I promise.”
Imri nodded and Vernestra turned to go back toward the rear of the cave. She paused suddenly. “Oh, and be careful around Avon. She means well, but she can be trouble. She’s just a little too interested in kyber crystals for her own good, and I’m afraid that fascination is going to lead her to make some questionable decisions.”
Imri smiled. “Don’t worry, Vern. I know Avon. She has a good heart.”
Vernestra gave him a small smile and nodded before leaving him to his contemplation of his disassembled lightsaber.
He could do better. He had to if he ever wanted to be a Jedi Knight.
He just had to figure out what “better” entailed.
Avon found the nuna jerky in the bottom of Imri’s bag and whooped in delight. She was hungry. Starving even. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so hungry. Before she went to Port Haileap, that was for sure. It was a long time before—back before she got J-6, before she became so good at science. It was even before they went to Mon Cala for a season. It was when she’d been on Hosnian Prime—
Avon stiffened and willed the memory to go away. No, she wouldn’t remember. She refused. But then the memory was upon her and she was frozen within its grip.
It was hot, and her mother had warned her to stay inside the compound. But the variegated butterflies she wanted to study were on the other side of the compound wall, in the woods, and how was she supposed to catch them if she had to stay inside the stupid compound all the time?
Jumping the wall had seemed like a fine idea. She hadn’t expected anyone to be waiting for her.
“Avon, are you okay?”
Imri’s gentle touch jolted Avon from the memory, and she blinked away tears. Deep breaths—that’s what the Jedi always recommended, right? She inhaled and let it out.
“I’m okay. I just got caught up by a memory,” Avon said.
“A bad one?” Imri asked.
Avon nodded. “Yes, but it’s passed now. Thanks, and thank you again for the nuna jerky. You’re the best.”
Imri smiled, and his happy expression chased away a few more of the shadows from Avon’s mind.
“I thought I was the best,” Vernestra called from where she leaned against her pack at the back of the cave.
“No, you’re the worst,” Avon said. She’d meant for it to sound funny, to be a joke, but instead her words were flat and emotionless. She cleared her throat. “Sorry, I was just kidding. I think maybe I need to eat.”
Vernestra smiled. “No worries. I can sense when you’re really mad at me, Avon. You’re more connected to the Force than you realize.”
Avon tried not to scrunch up her face and failed. There they went with the whole Force thing again. It wasn’t that she disliked the Force; she just got tired of hearing about it all the time. Avon opened her mouth to respond and snapped it shut. She decided the grown-up thing to do would be to take her food and retreat back to where J-6 stood near a boulder and eat while observing the droid. So that was what she did.
Avon tore open the metallic packet and took a bite. It wasn’t great, but it wasn’t joppa stew, so she chewed it slowly before swallowing. As she chewed, she made sure to open her mouth as wide as possible between each bite, making what her mother would’ve called a “verifiable racket.” Table manners had been one of the first assignments Ghirra Starros had given J-6, strange programming for a protection droid, but it had taken, and Avon had gotten several earfuls from the droid over the past few years. But as she chewed J-6 did not once stop her to instruct her on etiquette. There were no recriminations, no helpful suggestions, nothing. The droid didn’t even seem to notice her.
Avon paused in her chewing. What if she’d somehow broken J-6? What if her helpful fix had actually done something to compromise the droid? Avon swallowed her bite, and the food seemed to stick in her throat. It was hard to eat when you were afraid. Avon had learned that firsthand a very long time before.
“Jay-Six, can you run your regular diagnostic?” Avon asked. She felt a gaze settle on her and expected to find Vernestra watching her with her characteristic half-amused, half-wary expression. But both Vernestra and Imri had fallen asleep, the rhythmic patter of the rain outside the cave a powerful invitation to drowse.
It was Honesty who watched Avon, a pinched look on his pale face.
“There’s no need for a diagnostic, Avon. I’m fine. Better than fine, actually. My systems are top-notch, and even that murderous rain didn’t ruin my day. Eat your food and leave me alone,” the droid said, and Avon snorted.
“That is amazing considering how many times you’ve ruined perfectly good experiments because you were concerned.” Honesty was still staring at her, and it was beginning to make her nervous. “Hey, you okay over there, farm boy?”
The boy jolted, and Avon realized he’d been staring into the middle distance, deep in thought, not at her. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, I was just staring at dust motes,” he said.
“What were you thinking about?” Avon asked.
He frowned. “Thinking?”
“Yeah. A stare like that usually begets big thoughts. Plots, conundrums—you know, something important.” Avon polished off the rest of the nuna jerky and started to crumple up the metal envelope before thinking better of it and folding it up neatly and dropping it in her pack. “You could have been thinking about the fact that the rain here being toxic means we’ll probably have trouble finding water, not good news for us organics. You could be wondering how often it rains and if this is one of those planets where rain is a month-long affair. Oh, that reminds me, Jay-Six,” Avon said, breaking off in the middle and turning back to the droid. “Can you reference jungle locations with an acidic rain component in Leric Schmireland’s almanac? Focus on the Haileap system. That should narrow the search.”
“What’s an almanac?” Honesty asked, his frown getting deeper the more Avon talked. She grinned. She liked this boy who didn’t seem to know anything about the galaxy. It was fun to have someone to show off to.
“It’s a gazetteer of encountered planets. The Republic sent Leric and a team out to catalog planets about three hundred years ago. The goal was to find places that would be good for colonies and had no one occupying them. Colonization, you know, is pretty awful when someone is already happily living there. Leric never returned to Coruscant, but every now and again one of his messenger droids will appear at the university to deliver another report. The Schmireland almanac is mostly useless, a lot of fun facts about planets no one has any reason to visit, but in this case, maybe not. I had Jay-Six download it mostly because I got bored one day and wanted to have a copy wherever I went. And now it might come in handy.”
Avon yawned. The food was weighty in her stomach, and her body and mind were tired from almost two days of
fighting to survive. Her mother used to lecture her on how easy her life was, how little she understood her luck, and now she was starting to see it.
“So, does, uh, Jay-Six know where we are?” Honesty asked when the droid didn’t respond.
“Jay-Six is taking a moment for herself, thank you very much,” the droid replied. “I have thoughts of my own, you know.”
Avon blinked. That was definitely new. She didn’t have any way to jot down a note—her datapad was most likely somewhere in the debris of the Steady Wing—but she took note of it mentally.
“What were you thinking about?”
“That is none of your concern. But, as to your other question, there is one location in the almanac that describes a heavily forested area with a corrosive rain. It orbits a double gas giant with dual suns and is designated as Moon Two-Three-One-Two-Three-Four, but known colloquially as Wevo.”
“Excellent. So, what are the chances that someone will pass by and see that emergency beacon Vern left on the maintenance shuttle?” Avon asked.
“There are no established travel routes through this part of the system. The nearest hyperspace nodes are at least two days of travel at sublight. So the odds are very, very bad.”
Avon turned to watch Honesty’s reaction. The boy’s usual sad expression melted into one of absolute despair.
“We’re going to be stuck here forever.”
J-6 made a sound that sounded a bit like a snort. “Well, at least until you run out of food to eat and I run out of a charge. But not an uplifting forecast, I’m afraid.”
Honesty nodded and tried to dash away the tears that managed to escape.
“What’s so great about Dalna, anyway?” Avon asked.
“Nothing. I mean . . . it’s home. Everyone I love is there.” He stared at Avon like she had grown a second head, which Avon figured she should probably get used to since he kept giving her that same look.
A Test of Courage Page 8
