“But what kind of people?” said Imri. He was right. The wrongness that Vernestra had felt was coming from the ship, and from whoever was inside of it. She’d felt an echo of this emotion before, but more muted. Only a couple of days before, as she boarded the Steady Wing. Vernestra had opened her mouth to tell Imri of the moment she’d had with the Aqualish mechanic when yelling came from the direction of the ship. Vernestra ducked under the particularly low branches of one of the broad-leafed trees and waved Imri to join her so they could watch the scene before them.
The ship was an older-class hauler, compact and boxy, with a rear cargo hold that opened like a bivalve, the top and bottom doors separating to reveal the ship’s interior. The rear doors were open and the people inside were having a conversation that sounded like an argument.
“They’re just a bunch of kids. How could they have thrown the boulder at us, Gwishi? I’m telling you, this moon is cursed. I know you Aqualish don’t believe in spirits, but I saw a sand ghost back on Pasaana. They’re no joke, and the way this rain burns up stuff feels ominous. Plus, those stupid animals keep eating our food! Cursed. This whole mission is cursed.”
A pale-skinned human woman with bright magenta hair pulled up into the center of her head walked to the edge of the boarding ramp and looked at the rain pelting the landscape.
“Those are not children. They are Jedi. I saw one on board the Steady Wing as I placed the charges. We have to deal with them before they realize they are not alone.” The Aqualish man Vernestra had locked eyes with in the docking bay appeared from inside the ship to stand next to the human woman. Vernestra figured that must be the Gwishi the woman was speaking to.
“So now we have to kill kids?” the woman said.
“We must before Kassav finds out. Do you want to tell him that we couldn’t even complete a smash and dash? Our orders were simple: no survivors. How those kids managed to not only survive the explosives we planted on the Steady Wing but end up here is entirely connected to the Jedi and their Force tricks.”
Next to Vernestra Imri tensed, and his anger was palpable. Normal anger was fine. The Jedi weren’t immune to their feelings, no matter what some might think. But the feelings coming from Imri were beyond normal anger and outrage; it was a rage so strong, so violent that Vernestra was half afraid he was going to pull out his lightsaber and take off after the people in the ruined cargo ship.
“Deep breaths,” she whispered to him. “Revenge is not the way of the light.”
“I know,” he said, some of the emotion fading. “But Jay-Six was right. It was sabotage. They killed Master Douglas. And Honesty’s father.”
Vernestra shushed the Padawan as the two saboteurs continued to plan.
“As soon as the rain stops in the morning we’ll find those skreerats and snuff them out for good. I will not let our Strike carry the shame of this failure. We are Nihil now, Klinith, and that means something,” Gwishi said before stomping back into the ship.
Once they were out of sight, Vernestra straightened from her hiding space and motioned for Imri to follow. But suddenly Chiri jumped out of Imri’s tunic and sprinted for the nearby opening of the ship.
Imri stood to run after the orange handsy, his leaf falling to the ground as his concentration was broken. He cried out as a few drops hit his skin, but Vernestra was quick to raise his leaf once more.
But Imri did not notice. He continued running after Chiri, who seemed unbothered by the rain. The creature ran up the loading ramp and into the ship. Imri had made to follow, Vernestra only a short ways behind him, when a shout came from inside the ship.
“You’re not eating my food this time, you argle bargle!” The sound of a blaster firing and a chirp of pain echoed from the cargo ship before a small orange form was hurled out into the rain.
Imri skidded to a stop in the mud, the puddled rain slowly charring his boots. “Chiri,” he whispered. The small creature was not moving, and Vernestra could sense that the living Force had departed his body. Vernestra grabbed Imri and pulled him back into the shelter of the trees before someone could turn the blaster on them. Her only thought was to get back to the cave. They had to be there to protect Honesty and Avon.
“We should go after them,” Imri said, struggling against Vernestra.
“No, not yet. We need to be smart about this, and right now Avon and Honesty have only a nanny droid to keep them safe. We get back to the cave and then we consider our next steps.”
Vernestra pulled Imri through the jungle, doing what she could to keep the rain off of both of them since Imri had dropped his leaf and did not seem inclined to replace it. They made their way back to the path made by the boulder and followed it back up the hill, the steady rain washing away their footprints as they went, the silence between them heavy and uncomfortable. Vernestra searched for an idea of what to do next. There had to be a right answer, but what was it? Had Imri been correct? Should they have attacked two people without knowing who they were? Vernestra did not think so. The Jedi could defend themselves, but they also believed in the sanctity of life, all life. Violence should always be a last resort.
Imri had calmed down enough that he powered up his lightsaber, still a weak, flickering thing, and cut free a leaf to help shelter himself from the rain, which had tapered to a drizzle. “Those must have been the space pirates Douglas was talking about.”
Vernestra turned to Imri. His emotions were an angry maelstrom, and it surprised her that he could even use the Force when he was in such a state. “They called themselves the Nihil. Have you ever heard of such a thing?”
Imri shook his head. “No, but Douglas had a holo from another Jedi about some dangerous marauders who were prowling the Dalnan sector. I didn’t see it. He sent me from the room as he watched it, but I think it was probably them.”
Vernestra nodded. It made sense that the two would be one and the same. She was willing to bet her lightsaber that the ship they had was stolen.
“What do we do now?” Imri demanded as they walked.
“We go back to the cave and tell Honesty and Avon what we learned. And then we figure out a way to stop those two and take them to the Republic to stand trial. That is what we do,” Vernestra said. “We have to be smart to keep everyone safe. We need a plan.”
Imri said nothing. She could still sense the anger in him, but it was more muted, and she hoped that he would be able to let go of the emotions before they led him down a path she could not pull him back from.
Avon paced because it was the only thing she could do. Once the Jedi had sensed someone else on the moon and left, Honesty had retreated to his corner of the cave and turned sullen once more. And right when she’d been in the middle of explaining Hyderson’s proof to him. The boy had no head for mathematics.
Avon could have talked to J-6. She found the droid’s change to a curmudgeonly matron fascinating and delightful, but the droid had very loudly declared she was going into standby to save power and had disengaged. Avon had considered powering up SD so he could follow Vernestra and Imri, but he was only at about a quarter of his possible battery life, and Avon had a feeling they were going to need the little scout droid. So she was left with pacing.
She’d begun to wear a groove into the bottom of the cave when Honesty suddenly sat up. “How’d you end up in Haileap?” he asked.
Avon stopped in her tracks. “What?”
“Well, when you were explaining the math thing—”
“It’s called a proof.”
“Right, the proof, well, you said your teacher on Hosnian Prime had taught you about the interrelationship between energy and matter.”
“Hey! You were listening.”
Honesty gave Avon a sideways glance. “I am always paying attention when people talk. It’s how you learn about the galaxy. Anyway, Hosnian Prime is a long way from Port Haileap, so how’d you end up there? Isn’t your mom a senator?”
Avon’s heart pounded. She thought about what the emotional-support droid—her
first companion before her mother had decided she needed something more sophisticated, like J-6—used to tell her: “Talking about one’s feelings helps normalize and synthesize those emotions. You should consider talking about what happened to you more often.”
But that was not the way the Starros family lived their lives. When her father had left, gone off to chase after a dream of mapping hyperspace routes and living on the edges of Wild Space, Avon’s mother, Ghirra, had not said a word except to tell Avon that her father would not be joining them for dinner. Ever again. And when Avon’s great-grandmother Eldie Starros had died, the family had gathered for exactly one hour to pay their respects and eat a selection of Eldie’s favorite foods before going back to their usual business.
The Starros clan was not one for strong emotions, which was why Avon found it so very difficult to talk about her exile.
“I . . . something bad happened to me,” Avon said, sighing and collapsing into the soft sand next to Honesty. “When I was on Hosnian Prime we lived in a private compound. My mother was a junior senator at the time and spent more time on Coruscant than at home. But it was fine. I had the rest of my clan there, so I was always with someone. But one day I found a particularly intriguing specimen. Uh, a flutterbug, if you have those on Dalna.”
“We do,” Honesty said. His voice was low, and something in his tone convinced Avon to keep talking.
“I’ve always been good at figuring out how things work, so I knew how to deactivate the energy shielding that protected the family compound. And then I followed the flutterbug out into the woods behind our house. I didn’t think about why our family might need such a protective measure. I was kidnapped by a local group who wanted my mother to agitate for stronger trade controls in the Senate.”
Honesty blinked. “You were kidnapped? That’s terrible.”
“Yeah, it wasn’t great,” Avon said, forcing a laugh. “My uncles found me and killed the people who had taken me, but my mother was upset when she found out. So she took me with her everywhere after that. But I just wanted to go home to Hosnian Prime. Or to stay on Coruscant with the other senators’ kids. And when I could have neither, well, let’s just say I made a case for exile.”
“So your mother sent you to Port Haileap to keep you safe,” Honesty said.
“My mother sent me because she hates me and she was tired of me messing up her career,” Avon said, the words surprising her with their vehemence.
“That is not true at all,” J-6 said.
“I thought you were in standby,” Avon muttered.
“I heard the note of distress in your voice, and it pulled me out of my stasis. But you have to understand that your mother sent you to Haileap because she thought it was safe. It’s far away from the more highly traveled lanes, and the Jedi have a definite presence there. Those were only a couple of the many factors your mother considered,” J-6 said. “Plus, you have me. I have managed to keep you alive for the past three years, and that is no minor feat, cheers to me.”
“The droid is right,” Honesty said, even as he gave J-6 a slightly distrustful look. “If your mom hated you, why wouldn’t she have just sent you back to your family compound and let you remain someone else’s problem?”
Avon opened her mouth to respond and then snapped it shut. Honesty was right, and J-6 for that matter, but it was Honesty’s words that let Avon see the facts in a new light and come to a completely new conclusion. Maybe, just maybe her mom really had sent her to Port Haileap because it was the best thing for her at the time.
That was all before Avon had been aboard an exploding luxury ship, of course. But even so. Given the pervious data and all supporting information, Haileap had been the safest place for Avon in all the galaxy.
For the first time in months, the weight that pressed on Avon lifted, and she felt glad. “You’re right. Thank you, Honesty. You’re a good friend.”
The boy blinked. “What?”
“You provided much-needed insight into a problem that I could not solve, at least correctly, on my own. That’s what friends do.”
Honesty’s cheeks pinkened. “Oh. Well. You’re welcome.”
The moment was shattered by Vernestra and Imri running into the cave, both of the Jedi looking agitated. “So, are we rescued?” Avon asked.
“No, anything but,” Imri said, jaw tight. Avon had never seen the Padawan looking anything more than mildly bemused, so his angry expression was both wrong and a bit alarming. Jedi didn’t get mad, did they? Wasn’t that what the Force was supposed to prevent somehow?
“Where’s Chiri?” Honesty asked.
“Gone,” Imri said before walking away to a far corner of the cave, his eyes downcast. Avon had the feeling that he didn’t mean gone back into the jungle, but gone in a terrible way.
“We found the disturbance we felt,” Vernestra said, shooting Imri a concerned look that echoed how Avon felt. “It’s a couple of pirates or something. They call themselves the Nihil.”
Honesty rocketed to his feet. “The Nihil? That’s very, very bad.”
Vernestra’s eyebrows shot up. “You know who they are?”
“Yes, it’s one of the reasons Dalnans don’t like space travel. They’re pirates, but they don’t just steal things. They like to hurt people. They use gas to confuse you when they attack, and no one who runs into them ever survives. They keep to riskier, unmapped space and usually disappear as quickly as they appeared. Did they hurt Chiri?”
“Yes. But that’s not all. They planted explosives on the Steady Wing. That’s why none of the system fail-safes kept the ship together.” Imri’s voice was flat, emotionless, and Avon simultaneously wanted to hug the poor boy and run out and find the people who had dimmed the Padawan’s inner light.
“What?” Honesty said. His fists were clenched and he vibrated with rage. Avon rested a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged her off as he stalked over to Vernestra. “What did they say? How do you know all this?”
“We overheard them talking. They weren’t supposed to let anyone live, and they know we’re here, so they’re probably going to try to get rid of us,” Vernestra said. Avon had never seen the Jedi look so uncertain. Not scared, never that, but more like she wasn’t quite sure what to do next.
“We can’t just wait around for them to show up and blast us. We have to be proactive,” Avon said.
Honesty nodded. “We should kill them.”
“Or,” Avon interrupted before either of the Jedi could say anything, “we capture them and find out why they destroyed the Steady Wing in the first place. There has to be a bigger story here. We should find out what it is.”
“They killed my father,” Honesty said, eyes flashing even in the low light of the cave. “We can’t just capture them and ask them questions. They have to pay for what they did.”
“And they will. But that is justice that should be handed down by the Republic,” Vernestra said, nodding. “Avon is right. There are four of us and only two of them. Surely we can capture them?”
“There are six of us. Don’t forget Jay-Six and Essdee,” Avon said. “And you said they had a ship?”
“It’s wrecked, though,” Imri said. “Even if we do capture them, what are we supposed to do with a couple of prisoners? We can barely take care of ourselves.” He didn’t look nearly as convinced about the greatness of Avon’s idea as Vernestra did.
“You’re Jedi,” Honesty said, not giving up so easily. “Why can’t you just go and make them pay? Once they’re dead we can worry about repairing the shuttle. Imri, you have a lightsaber. Don’t you want to show those Nihil that they can’t just do whatever they want and get away with it?”
Imri said nothing, just clenched his fists. Avon felt the situation spinning out of control, and when Vernestra didn’t say anything she took a deep breath.
“But we can always use pieces from their ship to repair the maintenance shuttle. With a proper navigation system and a few upgrades, we can find a way to Port Haileap or back to Dalna,
even,” Avon said. For some reason the idea of killing someone, even someone bad like the people who had sabotaged the Steady Wing, seemed wrong. When her uncles had told her mother that her kidnappers had been taken care of, meaning that they’d been murdered, Avon hadn’t felt better. She’d just felt really sad. Her kidnappers being dead hadn’t changed the bad memory; it had just made it worse.
Avon couldn’t see how killing another person solved a problem. Inevitably things always escalated. It was much better to get all the answers and find a more logical solution.
Wasn’t it?
“Great, so it’s settled,” Vernestra said. Avon had missed whatever else had been said while she was in her thoughts, but neither Imri nor Honesty looked happy with the situation, so she figured they were going to find a way to capture the saboteurs and interrogate them before rebuilding the shuttle.
“You all should get some rest,” Vernestra said before putting her hands on her hips and looking at each of them. “I’ll stay up and keep watch first and come up with a plan of attack that we can implement at first light.” It was clear from Vernestra’s tone that she wouldn’t accept any arguing, and no one pushed her. Everyone retreated to their separate areas of the cave and settled in for the night.
As Avon sank down next to J-6, the droid turned to her. “You do realize that there is no way this plan can work?”
“Do you think it’s a bad plan?” Avon asked, suddenly feeling insecure.
“Oh no, it’s an excellent plan, but I know people, and something tells me that Honesty is not interested in logic right now. Emotions have a way of making even the best plan seem silly.” J-6 fell silent, and Avon contemplated her words.
She was afraid that the droid was right and Honesty’s grief was a thing that could not be fixed with science. But even more concerning was a Jedi who seemed angry and had lost the inner peace that all the Jedi Avon had met exuded. What happened when a Jedi lost contact with the light side of the Force? Nothing good, Avon was certain of that.
But she didn’t think revenge was going to help, either.
A Test of Courage Page 10