The three of them ducked behind a particularly large purple bush with fronds in the shape of giant stars. “Where is your scout droid?” Vernestra asked.
“He’s in the tree over there,” Avon said, pointing at a nearby branch before lowering her goggles over her eyes. “I had him go into stealth mode before we left. Let’s see, it looks like Imri and Honesty are tied up on the boarding ramp.” Avon pulled down the goggles. “I would like to point out that my hypothesis was correct.”
Vernestra huffed in annoyance. “What about the Nihil? Do you see them?”
Avon put the goggles back on and hesitated before shaking her head. “I’m not picking up anyone else, not even any life signs.”
“They’re out there,” Vernestra said, certain that the pirates were nearby. They felt like a prickle against her scalp, a knot of blight in the otherwise perfect harmony of Wevo. “We just have to draw them out.”
“Leave that to me,” J-6 said. She began walking jerkily toward the cargo ship while saying “Zzt zzt zzt.” Vernestra could only stare.
“What is she doing?” the Jedi asked.
“I think she’s pretending to be malfunctioning?” Avon said.
“You know this is weird, right?”
“Weird or wonderful? Vern, this is one of the most fascinating things I have ever seen. Droids can reprogram themselves if given the opportunity! That means something.”
Vernestra sighed and drew her lightsaber. “Stay here.”
Avon started to argue but then snapped her mouth shut.
J-6 had reached the ship’s opening and began to walk inside. As she did, the human woman and the Aqualish man both came out of their hiding places behind some nearby giant ferns.
That was exactly what Vernestra had been waiting for. But before she could move, J-6 paused and pulled out her many arms, each one holding a blaster.
“Hold it right there, you scum!” J-6 said.
The Nihil froze, and Vernestra sighed. “This was not part of the plan.”
“Improvisation!” Avon breathed. “Jay-Six is making it up as she goes along. This is even better than I’d hoped.”
And then there was no more time for conversation as everyone started firing their blasters.
“Stay down and stay out of the way!” Vernestra shouted. Blaster shots singed the leaves around them and pinged off of J-6, who was unfazed.
“Great idea,” Avon said, pressing down into the leafy undergrowth.
Vernestra powered up her lightsaber and jumped forward, using the Force to propel herself through the trees. From behind her came Avon’s exclamation of surprise, but she didn’t have time to worry about the younger girl. She had to save Imri and Honesty and subdue the pirates, as well.
Being a Jedi Knight was turning out to be a lot busier than Vernestra had thought it would.
The Aqualish man saw her first, and he turned his blaster on Vernestra as she emerged from the trees. She used her lightsaber to repel the blasts before ducking low and kicking the man’s feet out from underneath him. As he fell he dropped his blaster, and Vernestra kicked it away before using the Force to pick up the man and throw him against a nearby tree. He hit the branches hard, slumping at the base of the tree as he lost consciousness.
Vernestra didn’t have time to enjoy her victory. The woman tackled her from behind, sending her into the dirt, the air whooshing from the Jedi’s lungs with the impact. Vernestra had dropped her lightsaber, so she reached for the Force and pushed, sending both her and the woman on her back flying into the air. Vernestra landed on her feet, but the magenta-haired woman did not.
It didn’t matter, because she held a blaster in her hand, the barrel pointed right at Vernestra. Vernestra called her lightsaber to her, even as she knew that it would be hopeless, but before the woman could shoot her, her eyes widened and she began to choke. She dropped the blaster and grabbed for her throat. Vernestra shook her head.
“I’m not doing that,” Vernestra said, confusion melting away into realization as she saw Imri walking down the boarding ramp, calling his lightsaber to him from the Aqualish man’s pocket. Behind him J-6 had put away her blasters and was bent over Honesty, removing the boy’s bonds.
“No,” Imri said, brow knotted with concentration. “I am.”
“You need to let her go, Imri. This isn’t you. This is the dark reaching out for you. This need for revenge and all this anger? That’s the path to the dark side.”
“Master Douglas is dead because of her. I’m sorry, Vern. I won’t let her hurt anyone else.”
The woman slumped over, her life fading fast, and Vernestra knew she didn’t have time to talk things out with Imri. She reached for the Force and used it to pick Imri up and throw him over the cargo ship, off into the trees. The woman fell to the ground as Avon came running out of her hiding place.
“What’s wrong with Imri?” Avon asked, eyes wide with fright.
“Anger is drawing him toward the dark side of the Force. I have to help him before he gets any worse. You and Jay-Six take care of these guys. And whatever you do, do not follow us.”
J-6 opened her chest compartment and pointed a blaster at both the coughing magenta-haired woman and the unconscious Aqualish man. “If you move, you are dead,” she said.
The Nihil woman just coughed more and raised her hands in surrender.
Vernestra gripped her lightsaber and stalked off into the jungle after the Padawan. She would not let Imri fall to the dark side.
Imri groaned as he sat up. Vernestra had thrown him like a child’s toy. It was both impressive and infuriating. He was lucky that he had landed on an especially springy patch of ferns, and nothing seemed injured but his pride. She’d overpowered him so easily, but he wouldn’t let it happen again.
He would have his vengeance. And if Vernestra tried to stop him she would regret her decision.
Just as Imri drew his lightsaber, Vernestra appeared before him, her green skin bright against the darker coloring of the plants around her. Wisps of hair had come loose from the tie that held it back, and she stood in the ready position with her bright purple lightsaber.
“Imri, stop. You are not going to kill those pirates.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I am going to kill them. And if you don’t let me pass I will kill you first.” The words coming from Imri’s mouth sounded like someone else’s. He didn’t really want to kill Vern, did he?
Guilt swept over him. Vernestra had only been kind to him, but there was nothing for him without his master to guide him. He owed it to Douglas to punish the Nihil for their crimes.
So Imri decided he would stand up against Vernestra. He would kill her if she did not let him take care of that despicable human woman and that awful Aqualish man. They did not deserve to live, and he would make certain they did not.
“Move, Vern. I have to do this. For Douglas.”
“This is the last thing he would have wanted.”
“Move or be moved,” Imri said, his voice flat.
Vernestra’s expression hardened. “Well then, Padawan. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Imri ignited his lightsaber blade. It was a steady, strong blue for once, and that gave him confidence. He was as good as Vernestra. He would show her that she had been wrong to underestimate him, just like everyone else.
Then he was charging forward, his anger and the Force propelling him.
Vernestra met his attack easily, and though she was more powerful and better trained, Imri was more than a head taller than her. She said nothing as she fought, her blade striking his again and again as she repelled his attacks. No matter what Imri tried, Vernestra would not yield. So he reached for the Force and pushed.
It did nothing. Vernestra would not be moved.
Her expression hardened, and she leapt into the air and somersaulted backward to avoid his next strike. Imri ran forward, determined to cut the Jedi down, and yelped in surprise as something burned across the back of his hand, causing him to drop his l
ightsaber.
Vernestra stood before him, her lightsaber transformed into a lightwhip. As Imri reached for his dropped lightsaber, the edge of the lightwhip zipped across the ground, leaving a sizzling groove in the dirt between him and the weapon. Imri tried for his lightsaber once more, but this time Vernestra’s whip crackled across the hilt itself, leaving behind two smoking pieces.
“Enough, Imri,” Vernestra said. “That’s enough. You used the Force in an aggressive manner when you choked that woman! Douglas never would have wanted any of this, especially not Jedi fighting among themselves.”
Imri growled in anger at the mention of his dead master. He might not have a lightsaber, but he could still fight. He reached for the Force, but as he did his anger, which had also been fueled by Honesty’s rage, began to melt away and he felt for the briefest moment his master’s hand resting heavily on his shoulder.
To be a Jedi is to always trust that the Force works in mysterious ways, Imri. We accept and we try our best, but we do not forget that in the end all is as the Force wills it.
Douglas’s voice could have been a memory, but it felt like more than that. All the rage drained from Imri and he fell to his knees, burying his face in his hands. He couldn’t even sense the anger Honesty had carried, as though the boy had also lost his taste for revenge. He didn’t want to cry; he wanted to be angry. But his sadness was more than he could bear and he began to sob.
“It isn’t fair. It’s not. Douglas was good and kind and strong, and those people killed him. And why? For nothing.”
“We’re going to find out why, Imri. And you can be angry, but giving in to your rage, letting that single emotion drive your actions, that is a direct path to the dark side. We can bring those people back there to justice, but what that looks like is not up to us. We serve the Force, and the Force does not pick sides.”
Vernestra patted Imri once and again before walking over to pick up his broken lightsaber. A deep shame filled Imri. He’d made a mistake, and it was one he would be working to repair for a very long time.
“Come on,” Vernestra said. “Let’s go find out why those pirates destroyed the Steady Wing.”
J-6 had just finished tying up the pirates with a complicated series of Batuu knots, something Avon had taught the droid back at Port Haileap, when Vernestra and Imri returned to the ship. The boy looked deflated, and when Avon glanced over at Vernestra with her eyebrows raised in question, Vernestra nodded.
Everything was okay. For now.
Avon gestured to the Aqualish man and human woman where they slumped on the cargo deck inside the ship. They were both conscious, and they glared at the Jedi as they approached.
“I figured tying them up was the safe plan, since I didn’t know how long it would be until you got back. Also, I started a distress signal on both Republic and Jedi channels. I sent a general broadcast, as well as one to the temple on Dalna and to Port Haileap. Hopefully someone hears one of them and responds. I would say we should expect a response soon, but in this sector who knows. It could be days or weeks.”
“I also sent a message to the Dalnan capital,” Honesty said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I figured maybe they could help with the Nihil, since the governor has experience with them.” The boy had refused to make eye contact with Avon or speak to her, and she figured it was because he was sore about being saved. How embarrassing to set out to destroy someone only to be taken hostage. He should have assessed his options more logically, but Avon said nothing. She figured hurt pride was enough punishment, although she hoped he’d also realized that maybe violence wasn’t always the answer.
Vernestra nodded and pointed for Imri to sit in a corner next to a couple of shipping crates. He did so without a word, and Avon started to walk over to the boy when Vernestra stopped her.
“Leave him be. He has some thinking to do,” Vernestra said.
“What happened to him, Vern?” Avon had never seen the boy look as mean as he had when he challenged Vernestra.
“A Jedi must always be vigilant about the lure of the dark side. Imri’s grief got the better of him and pushed him into making some regrettable decisions.”
Avon looked over at the Padawan and chewed on her bottom lip. “Is he in trouble?”
“I don’t know.”
“You scruffy mynocks better let us free before we get angry,” growled the Aqualish man behind them. Avon and Vernestra turned around, and Vernestra held up a hand as Avon started to take a step forward.
“Allow me,” the older girl said, walking toward the bound pirates and crouching down so she was eye level with the Aqualish man.
“Tell me your name,” she said, and a funny feeling quivered through Avon. She had the faint urge to tell Vernestra her name, and even as she pushed the feeling aside the man before Vernestra began to speak.
“Gwishi of the Nihil. I am the leader of this Strike.”
“Who are the Nihil, exactly? Are you just pirates?” Avon asked, preempting Vernestra’s question. Whatever Vernestra was doing to make the man cooperate was still working. He drew his shoulders back as he sat up straighter.
“We are more powerful than that. Pirates wish they could do what we do. The Nihil go where they want, do what they want, and take whatever they want. We are many, and we are strong, and only the strongest shall survive, as it was always meant to be.”
Vernestra tilted her head. “So why did you destroy the Steady Wing? What did the ship have that you wanted?”
Gwishi said nothing, merely shook his head. Vernestra waved her hand before his eyes slowly and repeated her question. But the Aqualish man refused to answer.
“We didn’t want Dalna to join the Republic,” the woman behind him answered. Gwishi swore in Aqualish, and J-6 chuckled.
“That was a particularly good one. Would you like me to translate?”
“No,” said Vernestra at the same time Avon said, “Yes!” Avon was about to argue, but a stern look from the Jedi had her clamping her lips together and raising her hands in surrender.
“Why didn’t you want Dalna to join the Republic?” Honesty said, seemingly out of nowhere. He walked over to the woman, who glared at him in defiance.
“Because this is our sector. If we have Republic cruisers patrolling this part of space it will ruin everything. And now that the Nihil are at war with the Jedi and the Republic, you’re going to feel the true depths of our wrath. A storm is coming, and you will regret standing against us. The strong survive, the weak die.”
Honesty looked at the woman for a very long time before nodding. “Well, then we are just going to have to stop you so that you never get to hurt anyone else.” He turned and walked back toward the cargo hold and sat down on a crate. Avon looked at Vernestra before walking over to the boy and sitting next to him.
“I’m sorry about your father,” she said, unsure what to do but settling for an awkward pat of his knee.
“Do you think your mother could get me an audience with the Senate?” he asked after a very long time.
“I don’t know, maybe. Why?”
“Because, I want to be there firsthand to tell them what these Nihil or whatever did to my father and my friends.” A tear slid down the boy’s cheek, and Avon wrapped her arms around his unyielding frame, giving what comfort she could.
“Honesty, I will make sure you get to talk to the Senate no matter what. I promise.”
And then there was nothing but silence for a very long time. But when he hugged her back Avon realized that they’d somehow become friends, and that just made her embrace the boy a little harder.
Two days after their group took the Nihil saboteurs hostage, the Jedi came to save Avon, Imri, Honesty, and Vernestra. It had been a quiet, fraught couple of days. During the wait SD-7’s battery had finally given out, and Avon sadly tucked him into her pack, making a note to carry extra batteries in the future. J-6 did not need to sleep, and she was able to charge herself by way of a charge port in the ship, so she paced around the Nihil
with her blasters drawn, firing a warning shot into the air every time they looked a little too comfortable and taking a bit more joy in the shooting than Avon was comfortable with.
She was going to have to calibrate J-6’s programming just a bit when they got back to civilization. Not enough to make her like she used to be, but definitely enough to make sure she didn’t get too blasty at the wrong moment.
The Jedi who found them were a Trandoshan, Master Sskeer, and his Padawan learner, Keeve Trennis, both on their way back from the planet Shuraden. Avon was giddy as they stepped into the clearing, Republic security forces following him. The Jedi Master was missing an arm, and Avon burned with a need to know how he had lost it. “Do you know Trandoshans can regenerate body parts?” she whisper-yelled to Honesty, who was so accustomed to Avon’s spontaneous lectures by then that he just gave her a small smile.
“Please do not start asking the Jedi Master about his missing body parts,” Vernestra said, her ability to read Avon more annoying than anything else.
“I wasn’t. I was just going to ask him how long it will take to grow back.” But the Mirialan was already moving toward their rescuer.
Avon walked over to where Imri sat in a back corner of the Nihil ship. The boy had barely spoken since his fight with Vernestra, and when he did speak there was a hesitancy to his words, as though he feared them and what he might say. While J-6 had been tasked with keeping track of the Nihil prisoners, Vernestra had watched Imri just as closely, so that Honesty and Avon were left wondering what had transpired between the two of them. Avon knew it had something to do with being a Jedi, something about the dark side and how Jedi could become bad if they lost their way, but she still wasn’t certain of the details. And Vernestra had made sure that Avon couldn’t find out what had happened.
Vernestra was talking to the Jedi Master, and Avon would only have a short time to talk to the boy.
A Test of Courage Page 12
