But when Avon had arrived, Professor Kip had gone off on a search for some artifact, so Avon was left to her own devices, Douglas happily adding her to the lessons he gave Imri, even though Avon had not a lick of Force sensitivity. But spending time with Imri had only made Avon even more curious about the Force and the Jedi’s kyber crystals. They were a near limitless energy source, and the possible applications were endless. It made no sense that they had not been exploited by more than just the Jedi.
So Avon was going to be the first to analyze the crystals and their properties. She would use her findings to apply for enrollment to Coruscant University and then she could go home. No more being trapped in the middle of nowhere. She could go home to hot fried hela fish for dinner and wicket ball and all the other things that made Coruscant amazing. Things that did not exist at Port Haileap. Things like civilization.
She wouldn’t be trapped on a shuttle with rapidly dwindling supplies if she’d never left Coruscant. And the realization made her feel like crying.
“Hey!”
Avon turned toward where the Jedi sat at the front of the shuttle, the two of them twisted around in their seats to look at her. “Are you hungry?” asked Vernestra.
“Is there suddenly something besides joppa stew? Did you Force-magic up something actually good?” Avon was sharper than she’d intended, and she took a deep breath to swallow her rising temper. It was her own foolish fault that she’d been sent to Port Haileap. The only person she could be angry with was herself.
“No,” Imri said with a smile, oblivious to her temper. “But the good news is we’re almost to a planet.”
“What, really?” Avon climbed off the bench and stood so she could see out the front viewing window. There, glowing in the middle of the window, was a small, lustrously green orb that appeared to orbit a couple of planets.
“I think it’s a moon, actually, and it’s really small,” Avon said, her spirits plummeting once more at the sight. “Is that a double gas giant?”
“Certainly looks like it,” said Vernestra. “Since we’re still in the Haileap system I’m guessing those are Nixus and Neralus. Which means there is nothing anywhere nearby. And with the communications out it’s not like we can tell before we land.”
“Okay, new question. Why would someone try to kill us?” Avon said. She had been turning the facts they knew over and around in her head, and she could not find a single reason for all that had happened. The more she thought about it, the more it made Avon’s heart pound. Not with fear, but with excitement. This was a mystery to be solved, an answer to be found. She knew the what, but the who and why were anyone’s guess.
“We don’t know that,” Vernestra said, too quickly, and Avon tilted her head at the older girl.
“Does the Force let you see the past? Can you find out why the Steady Wing broke apart? What the explosions were?”
Vernestra flushed. “There are some Jedi Masters who could use the Force in such a way, but no, I cannot. And besides, what difference does it make? We have bigger problems before us. This could have been an Emergence, Avon, not something else. Just another terrible accident that no one could have foreseen.”
“You don’t believe that,” Avon said. “We discussed this. If it had been an Emergence the pattern of destruction would have been different.”
“Avon,” Vernestra sighed. “Why does it matter?”
“It matters because someone killed Douglas and Honesty’s father,” Avon said, unable to believe that Vernestra could be so oblivious. “Besides, if it was an attack, how do we know that we’re safe? What if someone is just waiting for us to land so they can finish the job?”
“No one is following us. I would’ve known,” Imri said, and Avon felt terrible. She’d forgotten that Imri had scanned the wreckage of the Steady Wing for survivors and then again scanned for any signs of life amongst the stars.
But then another thought occurred to her. “What if they sent droids after us? You wouldn’t have been able to see that.”
“That’s a bit farfetched,” Vernestra said, frowning. And then she shook her head. “And if there is someone still after us we will worry about it when we have to. I have my lightsaber, and Imri has his, as well. We aren’t going to hyperspace, and we should be far enough away from any nodes that we shouldn’t see any more Emergences. Anything else, Imri and I can deal with. We can keep everyone safe.”
Avon huffed. She knew what Vernestra was doing, treating her like a kid who was afraid of the dark. The Jedi was worried, as well; the lines in the green skin of her forehead that had appeared during their escape from the Steady Wing were still there, but she somehow thought by reassuring Avon she could keep the girl calm. Avon wasn’t scared though. She was angry.
“Don’t you want to find out who killed Douglas? He died because he was trying to save us.” Avon could not believe that neither of the Jedi wanted revenge. If someone she loved had been hurt, revenge would be the only thing Avon would want. There was an old family story that Caden Starros, Avon’s great-grandfather, had followed an enemy all the way to Orondia to get his revenge after the man had stolen his ship and left him stranded on a minor moon. Whether the story was true or not, it sounded more sensible to Avon than just forgetting about being wronged.
Imri gave Avon a sad smile. “The Jedi don’t believe in vengeance. Revenge and anger belong to the dark side, and the Jedi are of the light. Everything that happens was meant to happen. The Force works in mysterious ways, but part of being a Jedi is trusting in the Force even when it’s difficult.”
Vernestra nodded and patted Imri on the arm, but Avon threw up her hands in disgust and went back to where she’d been sitting on the bench next to J-6.
“The Force is very odd,” J-6 said.
“It sure is,” Avon muttered, crossing her arms.
As she sat on the bench considering the possibility of sabotage and future danger, Avon’s eyes fell on Imri’s lightsaber. While Vernestra kept hers in a holster on her hip, Imri had stripped off his holster and formal tabard. They were both tucked into a cubbyhole across the way, a storage cube meant for blankets and the like.
Avon stared at the lightsaber and a thought began to form. She might be able to do something useful on this trip, after all.
Honesty woke to Avon standing over him. The brown-skinned girl watched him like he was some kind of lab specimen, her brows pulled together and her lips pursed in puzzlement. It was disconcerting, and Honesty scrambled into a sitting position, limbs floundering as he struggled upright.
“What?” he said, an unmistakable edge to his voice. Was there something wrong with his face?
“You were crying,” she said simply, completely unruffled by his sudden flailing.
“So? That doesn’t mean you need to watch me like that.”
She shrugged, the movement fluid. “I wasn’t sure if you were awake or asleep, though, so I was trying to figure it out before I did anything. Anyway, you don’t have to be embarrassed about crying. It’s perfectly normal. You should be glad I found you and not one of the Jedi, otherwise they would’ve given you a lecture about the Force and tried to make you meditate.” Avon made a face. “Do you know how many times Vern has made me just sit there, counting my breaths and visualizing light? No, thank you.”
Honesty said nothing, and eventually she threw her hands up. “Anyway, we’ve landed on a moon, and you managed to sleep through it. It’s hot and humid and pretty awful, and we still might die, but at least it won’t be in space.”
And with that she turned on her heel and exited by way of the boarding ramp, which let in sunshine that made Honesty’s eyes water with its intensity.
He didn’t follow her right away, but instead gave himself time to collect his thoughts. The girl made Honesty nervous. It wasn’t just that she was smart and self-assured; it was that she was reckless. She didn’t think about rules the way everyone else did. The one thing Honesty loved was guidelines. There was an order to things, and Honesty wa
s overjoyed once he learned where those limits lay. There was a comfort in order, and like most Dalnans he hated chaos. This entire trip had been one catastrophe after another, and the last thing he needed in his life was someone like Avon Starros, who seemed to be a chaos magnet, one of those people who not only sought out pandemonium but welcomed it into their lives and rained it down on everyone around them.
It wasn’t that Honesty was blaming Avon for everything that had happened to the Steady Wing, but he did think that the sooner he could get away from the girl, the better.
If you judge someone by your expectations instead of their actions, you will always be disappointed.
Honesty swallowed hard at the sudden memory of his father. Ambassador Weft had always urged his son to be more patient, especially in his judgment of others. A lump formed in Honesty’s throat as he realized that his father would never chide him again.
Honesty took a deep breath and steadied himself. He would give Avon Starros and the rest of his companions a chance. He would not make snap judgments. His father might be gone, but Honesty could honor his memory by taking his advice to heart. Which was why he stretched and stood up, shoulders squared, as he marched out to face what the day would bring. He would not let a setback set him back, as his father had always warned.
Honesty peered into the blinding brightness of the day just beyond the door to the shuttle. He blinked as his eyes watered more, adjusting to the light. Once they did he stared in wonder at the area around him. They’d landed on the edge of a clearing in gently waving yellow grass that was nearly waist-high. But just a little ways beyond the field was a dense jungle. Vines as thick as Honesty’s arms wrapped through the canopy of trees, which were strange with their wide leaves and smooth white trunks. Small creatures flew in between the trees, their fur jewel-hued and vibrant. The sky was a faint lavender hue, and a giant brown-and-orange-striped planet hung there, looming over it all, making him feel small and unsure. Honesty had never seen anything like it, and he stared until someone rested a hand on his shoulder.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” Imri said with a small smile. “The only place we could land the shuttle was here, but we think that this might be a floodplain. Vern wants to hike through the jungle to see if there’s higher ground that might be safer just in case we get a storm.”
Both of the Jedi had stripped off their tabards so they wore only ivory trousers and tunics with pale brown boots. Vernestra’s lightsaber hung off a holster on her hip, while Imri held his clutched in one meaty hand that made the weapon look like a toy. They appeared capable and ready, and Honesty felt the exact opposite.
“She wants to go in there?” Honesty asked, failing to conceal his fear. It was a good idea to find higher ground, and something his survival instructor back on Dalna would have urged, as well. But the jungle was formidable. Very little light permeated the thick canopy, so the area between the trees looked impossibly dark and ominous. It didn’t seem very safe. Was part of adventuring making the worst possible decision, just throwing oneself into danger? No wonder most Dalnans had absolutely no need for travel. It kept getting worse and worse.
“We’re going to walk along the outside,” Vernestra said, walking back toward Honesty to answer his question. “If you look you can see how this grass makes a bit of a road? That probably means this area becomes a river during heavy rains. Those trees have very dense leaves and the air here is very humid. If I listen closely I can feel the animals thinking about resting and the plants talking about burying their roots to not get swept away, so that most likely means heavy rainfalls are a regular thing here. High ground is going to be our best, safest bet.”
Honesty looked around the moon, taking in the landscape once more. The Jedi got all that from some grass, a few trees, and some rainbow-hued animals? He felt annoyed at being so unprepared and also a little in awe of her abilities. Unless of course she was making it all up, but he didn’t want to say that.
“Here.” Avon thrust a knapsack at Honesty. “This one is for you.”
He took the bag and peered at it curiously. “What is it?”
“It’s food and a few other supplies,” she said. Honesty noticed his bag was slightly smaller than the one Avon wore, and the droid had no knapsack at all. Before he could ask what was in her bag, Avon continued, “We’re going to take everything with us and hopefully find someplace to settle in for the night, and then tomorrow me and Vern will come back here and make sure the emergency beacon is activated.”
“You discussed all of this while I was asleep?” Honesty said, feeling left out.
“Your dad died,” Avon said bluntly.
“Avon!” Vernestra exclaimed. “Please, be more sensitive.”
The girl looked a bit confused at the admonishment. “The philosopher Grat Resa’s treatise on mourning says acknowledging the passing of a loved one is important to the healing process. The other part of the grieving process is getting enough rest. Loss can be emotionally draining. You sleeping was a good thing for your body. It wasn’t personal.”
“Science cannot replace empathy, Avon,” Vernestra said softly, and Avon adjusted her pack in discomfort.
“Oh.” She turned to Honesty, who was really trying very hard not to say something to the girl that he would later regret. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I was trying to help.”
Honesty nodded numbly, because her kindness was somehow worse. “Thank you.”
“Are we ready?” J-6 asked impatiently. “My sensors indicate that there is a twenty percent chance of rain, and that will continue to increase as the day goes on. And I do not like mud.”
“Well, then let’s be off,” Vernestra said brightly, clearly wanting to put the moment behind her. Honesty wanted to dislike the older girl. She was a bit bossy, but there was something warm and approachable about her. She smiled all the time. As much as Avon made him a little bit uncomfortable, Vernestra made him ready to follow her every suggestion. It was strange, but Honesty did not consider the feeling too deeply. He reminded himself he was always too quick to judge, and he resolved once more to try to keep an open mind. Not that it would be easy.
Anyway, it wasn’t like he could just decide to ditch them. He was stuck with the three from Port Haileap until they made it off the moon.
And after that? Home. All Honesty wanted was to go home, where it was safe and predictable.
Their group began to walk, Vernestra leading the way. Imri maneuvered so that he was the end of the line, but Honesty couldn’t feel safe with the other boy walking behind him—he looked terrified. If Honesty had been in a more magnanimous mood he might have asked the Padawan if he was okay, but Honesty was a bit tired of things just happening to him. He felt as though the current of life had been carrying him along, first pushing him to leave his home and board the Steady Wing and then putting him on a collision course with danger. He itched to forge his own path, but even when he’d tried to do that with his warrior training he’d ended up on a diplomatic mission instead of undergoing his Metamorphosis.
But now was definitely not the time to make grand statements. He feared what might happen. The Jedi were supposed to have some kind of supreme power on their side, and whether Honesty believed that or not, the Jedi did; so he figured it was safer to follow them than to try to strike out on his own.
Their group began to walk, and time folded in on itself. Honesty watched the glimmer of the droid in front of him, Avon poking at unusual trees along the way and J-6 trying to avoid especially treacherous puddles as they walked. For a while he was able to convince himself that he was on yet another training exercise for his outdoor group, but after about an hour of walking, he found it hard to think about anything but how much he didn’t want to be on that random moon with people he didn’t know and a droid who seemed to have her own agenda.
A bit of movement from his left drew Honesty’s attention, and he turned to peer at the shadows beneath the broad-leafed trees. He squinted into the gloom, his feet stoppin
g as he did. Imri walked into his back, and Honesty flailed to keep his balance.
“Hey, sorry about that,” the Padawan said, color rushing high into his cheeks.
“It’s okay. Do you see that?” Honesty asked, pointing toward where the low-hanging branches of the trees moved as though they’d been disturbed.
“See what?”
Honesty watched the spot where he’d seen the movement. He could have sworn he’d seen something bright, magenta-hued, much brighter than even the rainbow-furred primates that jumped from tree to tree. But whatever it had been was gone now.
“Nothing. Never mind,” Honesty said.
They continued walking.
After what felt like hours of walking, the landscape looked exactly the same. The trees still pressed close to one another, and the floodplain they’d been walking across hadn’t gotten any wider or narrower. The only thing that had changed was the angry clouds forming on the horizon, which now boiled a dark gray, streaks of pink-purple lightning lancing the sky every other heartbeat.
“Should we maybe try inside of the trees?” Honesty asked. He looked back the way they’d come, but the shuttle was too far away to see, a testament to just how far they’d traveled, even if they still walked across the flatter grassland of the floodplain. “We might have a better chance of finding some kind of shelter in there.” He didn’t like how they were exposed on the floodplain. That flash of bright pink stuck with him, and the more Honesty thought about it the more he kept thinking maybe he’d seen someone. It was possible, right? The Jedi had said that no one survived the Steady Wing disaster, but someone could have survived. They could have crashed their shuttle on the moon just like Honesty’s group had. Maybe.
A Test of Courage Page 6