Hopefully.
“Honesty is right,” Avon said, peering at the horizon. She stopped, taking off her knapsack and opening it. She removed a set of goggles and put them on. Honesty had no idea where the girl had gotten them, but he’d seen similar sets on the infantrymen who trained in and around the military compound on Dalna. They were usually connected to scout droids who ranged out far ahead of their users to survey an area.
Avon turned slowly in a circle, and everyone stopped to watch her. “Local readings indicate that a storm will be breaking in the next few minutes, and we’re going to be soaked if we don’t find shelter.”
Vernestra put her hand on her hip. “Where did you get those?”
“While you and Imri were landing the maintenance shuttle, I went ahead and searched through the tool kit. And since I am the obvious choice for science officer on this trip, I liberated these,” Avon said before pushing the goggles up so they rested on her forehead.
“What else did you take?” Vernestra said, a thread of exasperation evident in her voice. Honesty did not know the Jedi very well, but judging from the color high in her green cheeks she was definitely agitated. Did Jedi get annoyed? Honesty didn’t know, but he found the whole idea very interesting.
“Just this little guy,” Avon said, pulling a small round droid from her bag. It was small enough to fit in the girl’s hand, but just barely. Now Honesty knew why her bag had looked so much heavier than everyone else’s. She’d been carrying a scout droid all that time. Honesty didn’t know whether to be impressed, as scout droids were heavy and Avon hadn’t once complained about the pace, or to be even more wary of the girl. She had managed to confound even a Jedi, and as far as Honesty understood things, they knew everything.
“Avon,” Vernestra began, but the girl cut her off with a wave of her brown hand.
“Don’t be mad, Vern. I wanted to give you and Imri a chance to use the Force before I fixed our problems with science,” Avon said, pushing a small button and activating the droid. The ball unfolded, revealing a small flying droid with four clawlike appendages and two large sensors that looked like eyes. It flew up into the air, hovering next to Avon and beeping a series of high and low tones that Honesty couldn’t decipher. There weren’t many droids on Dalna; the settlers there tended to rely on their own devices, and droids were expensive. But Honesty had seen scout droids like this one before, and something in him loosened at the familiar sight.
Avon tilted her head as though she were listening to what the droid was telling her. “Little Essdee here only has about half a charge, and he’s already assessed the landscape to find that higher ground will be that way.” She pointed directly into the jungle. “So, score one for science.”
“The Force and science aren’t at odds,” Imri said, his half-surprised, half-annoyed expression a match to how Honesty was feeling. If Avon had just brought the droid out before they started walking they might have found shelter hours ago.
“No, but no one wanted to walk into that,” Avon said, still pointing toward the dense jungle. “So, following this path across the floodplain allowed us all to realize that the only correct path was the least desirable one.”
Vernestra blinked. “I dislike how much sense that makes.”
“It does feel . . . logical,” Honesty said into the heavy silence.
“The appearance of reason does not automatically make something reasonable,” J-6 said, her arms crossed. “But in this case Avon makes a strong argument for not waiting around to get soaked. I am still not enamored of mud.”
“Great, so, into the trees, then?” Avon asked brightly. There was a slight tremor to the girl’s hands that belied her cheerful demeanor. She was scared, just like Honesty was, but she hid her fears behind logic and procedure. “Vern, I think you and Imri should probably lead the way.”
Vernestra nodded and pulled out her lightsaber, Imri doing the same. Her lightsaber lit up a bright purple, while Imri’s was a blue so pale it was nearly white.
“Are you still having problems with your lightsaber?” Vernestra asked, and the boy shrugged.
“Douglas says—said—that it should work itself out if I keep working on it. It’s just not as strong as it should be, but it should cut through plants.” He seemed embarrassed by the confession, and Honesty made a mental note to ask the Padawan about his lightsaber later. It could be a good chance to get to know him better.
The two Jedi began hacking at vines and low-hanging branches, trying to clear a way through the dense underbrush and forge a path through the jungle. Small animals fled in every direction, their chittering cries nearly drowning out the sound of thunder in the distance.
Honesty swallowed dryly and tried to ignore the overwhelming sadness that threatened to bury him. The Jedi had the Force to rely on and Avon had her science, which made Honesty wonder, just what did he have? How was he going to survive this ordeal?
“Hey, I grabbed one for you, too,” Avon said, sidling up to Honesty. She held a very small blaster, the metal gleaming with ominous purpose. “Just in case.”
“Thank you. Umm, do you know how to use it?” Honesty took the blaster and slid it into the pocket of his khaki trousers after making certain it was set to safe mode. He might not have science or the Force to rely on, but he had spent the past five years of his life preparing to be a combat medical officer.
Avon grinned. “I read the instructions.”
Honesty grimaced. “Can I show you how to be safe with it?” he asked, and Avon brightened.
“Yes, that would be excellent,” she said. At first he thought maybe she was being sarcastic, but when she looked at him expectantly he realized she was sincere.
No, Honesty might not be a Jedi, and he might not be a science genius, but he had training, the kind of lessons that no one else in their group could boast. He would use every bit of knowledge he could to survive this mission, this adventure. And maybe by sharing that knowledge he could make his father proud.
It was the first time Honesty had felt optimistic since the destruction of the Steady Wing, and he clung tight to the emotion and hoped it could get him through the day.
Vernestra took the lead, pulling out her lightsaber and using it to clear the heaviest of the greenery while SD-7, the scout droid Avon had found on the maintenance shuttle, ranged far ahead, searching out the path of least resistance. Even with Vernestra’s lightsaber clearing the way—the bright purple beam glowed in the heavy shadows under the canopy—it was still slow going. They would be lucky to find shelter in the next few hours, if ever.
Vernestra was starting to reevaluate her plan. She’d thought it would be easy enough to find a place to stow the children, tucking them away so she and Imri could set up a more permanent emergency beacon than what came standard on the shuttle and do what foraging they could, but that was not going to be the case. All this time Vernestra had looked at Avon as little more than a precocious child, but the reality was that she was brilliant, perhaps more than anyone else had known.
No, that wasn’t true. Douglas had often told Vernestra that Avon was a genius. “If anyone can solve a problem with a few bits of wire and some gimer-gum, it’s that girl. Don’t underestimate her, Vern.” And yet, she had.
She would not make that mistake again.
Vernestra’s arm grew heavy as exhaustion began to set in. She was tired. She had never used the Force for anything as big, as important as the day before, and the effects made her bones ache and her eyes burn with weariness. She stank at rejuvenation through meditation, and she made a mental note to work on her technique as soon as possible. It was a humbling reminder that she was nowhere near perfect.
But no matter how tired she was, she had to keep going. If Imri hadn’t been there she would have used the full abilities of her lightsaber to clear a much larger path, but she had never shown anyone the modifications she’d made, and she was . . . concerned.
Because her lightsaber was more than it seemed. It was actually a lightwh
ip.
Vernestra had never been too worried about anything before. As a child she had gone to the temple when she was very young, her family group happy when they’d discovered her Force sensitivity. For Mirialans, being Force-sensitive was a cause for celebration, and she’d met other Mirialans who had been so bold as to tell her what a great honor it was for her to be chosen by the Force to be a Jedi.
When she had awoken in the middle of the night a week after getting to Port Haileap with an urgent, driving need to modify her lightsaber into something strange, Vernestra had not questioned the feeling. And later, when she’d seen what her changes had done to the weapon, she had felt a certainty that it was what the Force had demanded. Vernestra didn’t know why; the Force rarely gave explicit instructions, but now she wondered if the modification had been for this moment.
But how would she explain to Imri the strangeness of her weapon? The boy had no master, and she did not want to lead him down the wrong path. Because while Vernestra felt her connection to the light side of the Force was strong, there was always the lure of the dark side. And what if her unorthodox weapon led Imri astray? She could feel the indecisiveness in him ever since the passing of Douglas, a raw questioning that felt discordant with the rest of his being, and she would do everything possible to ensure that he had no reason to feel the temptation of the dark.
The lightsaber sizzled, pulling Vernestra from her thoughts, and at first she thought it was just the sap from the hanging vines. But as the sound grew more frequent, she realized that their time had run out. It was beginning to rain.
“Okay, Essdee has something,” Avon said. “There’s a cave, but the opening is small. But it might be useful if we can dig it out a little.”
“We should try for there,” Imri said, frowning up at a sky they couldn’t see. “This storm feels ominous.”
Vernestra slashed faster, whipping her lightsaber around in a lavender blur. Imri was right. There was something about this approaching rain that felt dark and foreboding, dangerous even, and she did not want to be out in it when she had no idea what was causing the feeling. Perhaps it was just the events of the past day catching up to her, but she wanted shelter and food and a chance to sleep. Real sleep, not the fitful naps she’d taken on the shuttle.
But then Honesty cried out in alarm, and everyone turned to look at him. “It burns,” he said. He held up his arm, where a raindrop had landed on his sleeve, searing a hole in the material and leaving the edges charred.
“Gah, he’s right,” Avon said, ducking her head and dashing back to stand next to J-6. “Where’s your umbrella?”
“How about a please?” J-6 said. A compartment in her chest opened up, and a silver rod extended out and above her head. There was a crackle as a blue dome of energy emitted from the slender stick, creating a canopy of cover.
“Get over here, Honesty. Unless you have Force powers to protect you, as well,” Avon said, pushing the goggles up onto her forehead. Vernestra realized she had unconsciously been using the Force to keep the few random rain drops from hitting her, and a glance over at Imri revealed that he had been doing the same.
But using the Force in that manner was not sustainable, so Vernestra cut loose a couple of broad leaves and used the Force to levitate them over her and Imri’s heads. That would keep them dry.
Honesty crowded in close to Avon and J-6, and the three of them walked forward awkwardly. The little scout droid flew back through the trees, beeping a cheerful melody. “Go ahead and follow Essdee. He’ll take you to the cave he found. I can track his beacon, and we’ll catch up with you,” Avon said to the Jedi, eyeing the rain with concern.
“We can also track their progress no problem,” Honesty said, pointing to a charred branch, the aftermath of Vernestra’s hacking and slashing. “More important, does this area flood?” Honesty asked, looking around at the ground.
“Let’s hope not,” Vernestra said. If the rain was caustic enough to burn through clothes, then a flowing river of the stuff was going to be disastrous for any nonnative organic life-forms. Crude matter they might all be, but no one wanted to end up melted by a rainstorm.
“Imri, with me,” Vernestra said before redoubling her efforts on the foliage blocking their path. The two of them began to slash at the thick growth, and as they did the rain’s pace increased from intermittent to more regular. The broad leaves over their heads grew heavier, and Vernestra had to concentrate to make sure the leaves remained at an angle so the water could sluice off harmlessly. The foreboding Vernestra had sensed blossomed into dread, the feeling a heavy weight in her middle. She could clear the brush faster, but that would mean showing the true nature of her lightsaber. She glanced at Imri. He was intent on using his blade to cut through the brush. But he looked as tired as Vernestra felt.
He could handle the truth.
“Imri, stand back,” Vernestra said. They’d traveled far enough ahead of the others that there was no one else around to see what she was about to do, and some of Vernestra’s anxiety drained away. “I can do this faster but I need you out of the way.”
“Vern, what are you talking about?” he asked, but still stepped back as she had asked.
“Watch.” Vernestra twisted the front ring on her lightsaber, and the single blade fractured and split before falling in a sinuous strand of purple light. Vernestra swung the lightwhip so that the deadly beam cut through the growth in front of her, clearing the same path as she and Imri had been clearing in a fraction of the time.
“Wait, how did you figure out how to do that?” Imri asked. He didn’t sound judgmental about the unorthodox weapon, merely curious. “Did you study one of the light weapon archives?”
“No, the entire design came to me in the middle of the night a few weeks ago. I couldn’t sleep until I’d finished the modification.” Vernestra swung the whip in a horizontal figure eight, letting the bright violet blade work from the residual momentum. She’d started training with the whip in secret, and even Douglas had not known of the modifications to her lightsaber. Imri was the first to see.
“Lightwhips are used by the Nightsisters,” he said. Vernestra turned to look at Imri out of the corner of her eye. She’d learned very early on that the whip required more attention and care than the lightsaber. One wrong move and she could be slicing through one of her own limbs.
“During the Sith Wars the Jedi also used lightwhips,” Vernestra said, clearing the path and walking forward at a brisker pace. Philosophical conversation or no, they still had a massive rainstorm bearing down on them, and they could not levitate leaves over their heads forever. “Have you read the testimonies of Cervil the Uncanny? She states that the whip was sometimes used to defend against the Sith Lords who used the Forbidden Forms. Besides, I was led to this design by the Force. I cannot believe that the dark side directed its construction. Do you feel any of that anger and discord in me?” Vernestra did not mention that she hadn’t told anyone else about the change to her lightsaber, not even her former master, Stellan Gios. The Padawan didn’t need to know everything.
Imri shook his head as his cheeks pinkened. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to question you.”
“Questioning me is fine, Imri. I should have questioned the design, as well. But look! It’s already proven useful.”
Vernestra cleared one last group of saplings and then the greenery fell away, revealing a small clearing and a rise. SD-7 was just beyond, hovering in the steady rain.
“Imri, you see that rock?” Vernestra asked, turning off her lightwhip and holstering her weapon. “It looks like there might be a cave under there. Can you clear it?”
Imri nodded and reached out a hand toward the cave. At first the massive boulder didn’t move, but then it began to roll right toward them. It gained speed as it hit the incline and Imri grunted from the effort of trying to stop it, shaking and sweating as he reached the limits of his strength.
A heartbeat before the boulder crashed into them, Vernestra pushed it to the left,
sending the enormous rock careening into the thick underbrush. The sound of its passage down the hill was loud enough to compete with the thunder overhead.
“Sorry,” Imri said. The large boy was bent double, hands resting on his thighs. The leaf overhead protecting him from the rain fell as he lost his focus. Raindrops sizzled where they hit his tunic, charring the pale material. Vernestra moved her cover over so it floated above the Padawan, as well.
“It’s okay, Imri. You did well, you just have to learn to focus on the whole task. My master taught me that it helps to envision the entirety of the task, not just one step at a time. We can practice once you’ve had a rest. Come on, let’s check out this cave.”
The scout droid had already flown on ahead, and the Force users followed closely behind. The cave smelled damp and rich, like the gardens back at Port Haileap. The scent filled Vernestra with a sense of peace and safety that she hadn’t felt since boarding the Steady Wing. The space was large, three times as spacious as the maintenance shuttle had been, with smooth, round boulders throughout. A rainbow of bioluminescent lichen grew on the walls but only cast the faintest of glows, nowhere near bright enough to light the entirety of the cave. Vernestra walked the perimeter, checking to see if they had any company. But not even animals had claimed this place as a home.
It was the first thing that had gone exactly as hoped.
She took a deep breath and let it out before dropping her pack in a corner. The floor of the cave was sand, not the hard-packed dirt Vernestra had expected, and she sank down gratefully, leaning against her still full pack. It was almost comfortable.
“This is quite cozy,” J-6 said.
Vernestra opened her eyes—she hadn’t even realized she’d closed them—as the rest of their group entered. J-6 retracted her umbrella arm and went to stand in a corner. Honesty looked around the cave and went to lean his pack against a rock that jutted out of the ground. He sat against it without a word, looking down at the spot on his arm and worrying the hole with a pensive expression. Avon looked cheerful as usual as she pushed her goggles back up onto her forehead.
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