A Test of Courage

by Justina Ireland

  Imri slowed his breathing and reached for the Force. But the more he reached for it, the more that vital connection seemed to slip away. He’d been told he should always be calm and collected when meditating, that tranquility was the way to connect to the cosmic Force and the larger galaxy around him. But sitting there in the dark of the cave, Imri couldn’t be calm or peaceful. He was lost, adrift, and the Force was too far away to help him.

  Imri had only ever wanted to be a Jedi, the best Jedi, and for the longest time no one had taken him seriously. He was the funny boy who towered over the other younglings and Padawans and spoke Basic with a strange accent. Imri’s home planet Hynestia was far from the center of the galaxy, and there was something in his mannerisms that made all the other younglings pity and avoid him. And when he’d become a Padawan, Imri had lived in fear of learning that his connection to the Force was too weak to advance, that he would be sent to some far-off temple to study and minister to the local populace, rather than helping keep order on the side of the light.

  But then he’d met Douglas, and he’d been certain once more that he would one day become a Jedi. Douglas had seen something no one else could see in Imri. He’d seen potential.

  But now Douglas was gone, and so was everything Imri had worked so hard for. There would be no pilgrimage to Jedha to commune with the Force, before heading to the main temple on Coruscant and undertaking the trials. There would be no pilot training, and Imri would never learn how to fly a Vector, those ships that only a Jedi could pilot. There was none of that, only grief and an uncertain future where the people responsible for Douglas’s death awaited punishment by the Republic, a sentence that could take months or even years to be delivered.

  It wasn’t fair. The Force was supposed to create balance throughout the galaxy, but this? There was nothing fair and balanced about pirates killing a ship full of people and getting to live. Especially in a galaxy where so many people could die in a random hyperspace accident that seemed less like an accident and more like something planned. And the moment Imri had connected to Chiri, the small creature trusting him so easily, his furry friend had been killed.

  So Imri did not feel clarity or peace or tranquility. What he felt was sad, and maybe a little lost. How could the Force work in such awful ways?

  Imri jolted as he felt something strange and powerful brush his conscience. Anger, bright and hot. He was half certain he had imagined it, the feeling was gone that quickly. His eyes flew open, but everyone else was still asleep. Even Vernestra. She had planned on keeping watch the rest of the night, but at his offer of taking her place she’d gratefully agreed. He’d felt the waves of exhaustion rippling off of her and the worry besides. She had no idea how they were supposed to go about capturing the pirates in the morning, and the chaos of her emotions had made it easy for Imri to project a feeling of acceptance at the Jedi, easing her worry. If she thought he was unruffled it would be easier to lure her into finding her rest. She was disquieted by his anger, but the more Imri let himself feel the rage, the more he decided to act on his anger, the better he felt.

  Stronger.

  The anger was so much better than the sadness that had plagued him since the Steady Wing had been destroyed. There was something right about harnessing that anger to challenge the people who had hurt him, who had taken away everything he had ever wanted. He might be unable to reach the Force in that moment, but the strength of his own convictions could be a power of its own, couldn’t it?

  He would give the Nihil the despair he had carried around the past couple of days, and he would return it to them tenfold. They would pay for killing his father.

  Imri blinked and realized that the bracing anger he’d felt wasn’t his own emotion. It radiated off of Honesty. Imri might not be able to commune with the Force, but he had no problem feeling and empathizing with the rage he felt from Honesty.

  Maybe, just this once, Imri would let the emotions he was not supposed to embrace guide him.

  He stood and activated his lightsaber, ready to go out into the rain and the dark and deliver real justice to the pirates. But he stopped and reconsidered, powering down the lightsaber.

  Without the edge the Force usually gave him he needed someone to watch his back. Why not the boy who was as angry as Imri should have been?

  Imri walked over to the boy and stood over him before bending down. “I know you aren’t asleep.”

  Imri might not have the Force to guide him, but he thought maybe the Jedi weren’t the only ones who got to decide what was right and wrong in the galaxy. Perhaps the people who had actually suffered got to make decisions sometimes.

  And maybe one of those times was now.

  Honesty pretended to sleep. He was good at it. He’d had a lot of practice. Back on Dalna he’d often avoided his mother and her plans by pretending to sleep. His mother thought he slept more than any other boy his age, but the truth was that some evenings it was easier to go to bed early than fight with his parents about everything and anything.

  Just his mom, now. His father was never coming back.

  The grief hit him out of nowhere, but this time it was followed by an all-consuming rage. The people who had killed his father and Imri’s master were not all that far away, and they were supposed to forget that and just . . . wait? Ask them very nicely to turn themselves in to the Republic to stand trial?

  Not likely.

  Honesty took a deep breath and let it out. The feeling had been so sudden, so strong that it almost felt like it came out of nowhere. And he had to keep his emotions contained. He knew from hearing Avon talk that the Jedi could sense strong emotions, and he didn’t want Vernestra to know how angry he was. So he took several deep breaths and pushed his emotions down deep, so far that he only thought of the sound of the rain tapering off outside and the joppa stew he would eat in a few hours when it was time to break his fast.

  “I know you aren’t asleep.”

  Honesty opened his eyes to find Imri squatting next to him. The Padawan gestured for Honesty to follow him, so he did, climbing to his feet quietly. Nearby, Vernestra was stretched out, sound asleep.

  “I thought she was standing watch?” Honesty said.

  “She was, but I told her that I would take over so she could get some rest,” Imri said. The boy’s normally open and serene expression had closed like a fist, his scowl belonging to someone else entirely. Honesty did not know Imri well, but he shivered all the same. “I’m going to find that scum that killed my master and hand out the justice they deserve. Are you with me?”

  Honesty’s heart leapt with both joy and dread. This was what he wanted, wasn’t it? And yet a keen sense of fear wriggled through him. The Jedi were not supposed to kill. It went against all they believed in. His father had often praised the Jedi for their diplomacy and foresight, and this felt like the opposite of that.

  But more than that, would revenge be something his father would even want? Honesty had never heard his father raise his voice, not even on the days when Honesty had deliberately disobeyed. The Dalnan ambassador had been the type of man to capture a wisp spider and set it free outside. “That little spider is just trying to do her job. It isn’t her fault she got lost,” he would say while shooing the creature back out of doors. To give into violence seemed like the opposite of what Honesty’s father would want.

  But then he straightened. If Imri was willing to fight, shouldn’t Honesty be willing to do the same? He wanted to be a warrior. Honesty didn’t have to care what his father would want, because he was dead. Honesty was angry, and he hurt. And the easiest way to fix that hurt would be to go after the people who were responsible in the first place.

  And a soldier would fight.

  “I’m with you,” Honesty said.

  Imri nodded. “You have your blaster?”

  Honesty patted the blaster that hung off his belt, right where it had been since Avon handed it to him. Imri turned around and started walking, and Honesty had to run to catch up with the older
boy.

  The rain had stopped, but it still dripped off the trees as they made their way through the jungle. A droplet fell on Honesty’s sleeve, a different spot than before, and he cried out at the pain of the water hitting his skin. He was going to have another burn.

  “Careful,” Imri said.

  “Can’t you levitate those leaves over our heads?”

  “No,” Imri said, voice flat. “Not right now.” Honesty didn’t know why, but that filled him with a sense of unease. Should a Jedi refuse to use the Force? What did that mean?

  “Have you done something like this before?” Honesty asked as they made their way carefully through the jungle.

  “Yes, a few times. We used to have to go out around Port Haileap, Douglas and I, and chase off pirates every now and again when they harassed travelers. I never thought they were dangerous enough to worry about, though. I guess I was wrong.” Imri’s jaw tightened and he pointed toward a slight downhill slope scarred by severely mangled trees. “We’re going down there.”

  “Do we have a plan?” Now that he was there, Honesty was much less certain about actually fighting. He’d had numerous hand-to-hand classes—it was a necessary part of his survival skills that would one day be tested before he could be considered an adult on Dalna—but he did not think he would be any use against an actual pirate. Everyone knew that those who made their livelihoods plundering the space lanes were ruthless and vile, and Honesty was only mediocre at best when it came to fighting. Imri might have the Force on his side, but all Honesty had was a tiny blaster. It didn’t seem like much.

  “The plan is for you to follow me,” Imri said, straightening. His scowl had not budged, and Honesty found himself taking a step back from the Padawan. It was like something had come over the older boy, like something dark pushed him forward on his path of revenge. The realization cooled some of Honesty’s anger.

  “Maybe we should head back,” he said, voice low. “Wait on Vernestra and Avon to help us.”

  “Vern would never willingly hurt another person if she could avoid it,” Imri said. “Now come on, enough stalling. You’re either with me or you aren’t. I need your anger, Honesty. Aren’t you mad about what they did to your father? How scared he probably was when he died?”

  And just like that, Honesty was fully engulfed by rage once more.

  Imri began making his way through the trees silently, and Honesty only waited a single heartbeat before following. He wanted revenge, even if it didn’t feel like the best idea in that moment, so he pushed aside his misgivings and followed the older boy toward the ruined cargo ship.

  “What happened to their ship?” Honesty asked, voice low.

  Imri gestured for him to be quiet. They stood on the other side of a giant rock embedded in the side of the ship. At a motion from Imri, Honesty drew his blaster while Imri drew his lightsaber. The plasma blade crackled into existence and Imri pointed to the right and then pointed to himself before pointing to the left.

  Honesty could figure that out easily enough. He hesitated, not because he was confused but because he’d been expecting a bit more of a plan. This one seemed incomplete at best.

  But he said nothing, just pressed his lips together and nodded, sneaking off into the direction Imri had indicated.

  The world around Honesty brightened rapidly as the suns came up. As he crept along, the undergrowth growing centimeters with each blink, Honesty had another moment of fear. He should be back at the cave.

  He quashed the misgivings and focused on keeping close to the ship. Just ahead was the opening to the cargo hold. He couldn’t see Imri, but surely the boy was waiting on the other side and they would enter the ship together?

  That was when Honesty heard a blaster cycle close to his ear. “I’d drop that if I were you, skreerat.”

  Honesty hesitated only a second before dropping the tiny blaster into the ferns unfurling at his feet. There was a sharp poke in his spine, and he stumbled forward.

  “Walk,” said the person behind him.

  Honesty did as he was told, heart pounding with true fear for the first time since dashing through the Steady Wing to find an escape pod. He couldn’t see the speaker, but the voice was deep and gravelly and left absolutely no room for argument.

  As he rounded the edge of the cargo ramp, Honesty realized that their plan never had a chance of success. Imri was sprawled out on the ramp, either unconscious or dead. Vernestra had been right. They’d underestimated the pirates, and now they would suffer for it.

  “Is he dead?” the person with the gravelly voice asked, shoving Honesty forward so he fell on the ramp next to Imri. He turned and saw that his captor was an Aqualish man. There had been a number of Aqualish on Dalna, but they had been pleasant and kind. This man was missing an eye, and his fur had a ratty look to it that made him seem mean. A scar down the right side of his face had a blue tint, and when he smiled chills ran down Honesty’s spine. There would be no kindness there.

  “No, I just stunned him.” A pale-skinned human woman with bright magenta hair stood over Imri, holding the Padawan’s lightsaber. She tried pushing the button, but nothing happened. “How does this thing work?”

  “Why, are you planning on slicing and dicing?” The Aqualish man laughed, taking the lightsaber and studying it closer.

  “Maybe,” the woman said with a sly grin. Honesty recognized her from the Steady Wing. She’d been dressed as a maintenance worker and had greeted his father as they’d walked through the deck to their room after a quick tour of Port Haileap. They really had purposely destroyed the ship.

  They’d wanted people to die. These were the worst kind of people.

  Honesty’s heart hardened as he sat up and stared the pirates in the eye. He would die like a warrior, not like a little boy.

  “Well, you’re going to have to wait,” the Aqualish man said, pocketing the lightsaber. “You said there were more of them wandering around?”

  “I saw four total, plus a protocol droid. There was a human girl and a Mirialan girl. I didn’t see them out in the jungle when I found this one,” she said, pointing to Imri. “Should we go hunting?”

  “No,” the Aqualish man said. His eyes glittered with malice as they met Honesty’s. “Let them come to us.”

  As soon as Vernestra awoke she could sense something amiss. The cave felt off, strangely empty and vacant. As she sat up she immediately noticed Imri and Honesty were gone. Avon still slept, the droid silent next to her. Vernestra vaulted to her feet and woke the younger girl.

  “No, it’s supposed to be an ambivalent voltage connector. . . . Huh, what. Vern,” Avon said, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. “Did something happen?”

  “The boys are gone,” Vernestra said, a deep sense of dread souring her stomach. “I think maybe they went after the pirates by themselves.”

  “Of course they did, because they are absolutely ridiculous,” Avon said, standing and stretching. She reached for the goggles that were still on her head and slid them down over her eyes. “I suppose we have to go after them before we even eat breakfast?”

  “You are very calm about this whole thing,” Vernestra said, crossing her arms.

  “Vern, look at it from the pirates’ point of view. They want us dead, right? All of us? So it’s in their best interest to make us come to them. Imri and Honesty are probably fine for now, assuming they didn’t kill the pirates. Which they didn’t.”

  “And how do you know that?”

  “I set Essdee to sentry mode before I went to sleep last night just in case something happened,” Avon said, tapping a button on the side of the goggles. “It looks like he followed Imri and Honesty as they left this morning at first light. He’s still nearby, just a little ways down the hill next to a damaged cargo ship.” Avon tapped the goggles again before pushing them back on top of her head. “How did a boulder end up in the side of their ship?”

  Vernestra shrugged, even though she knew full well that the boulder had been the result of Imri’s fa
iled Force usage on the first day. The fact that it had crashed into the pirates, stranding them on Wevo, seemed to Vernestra to indicate that the Force was working in their favor. The Force naturally bent toward justice while in balance, and those pirates would have gotten away with their misdeeds if it hadn’t been for that giant rock destroying half their ship.

  Avon gave Vernestra a long look before shrugging, as well. “Okay, keep your secrets, Jedi. The important thing right now is how we’re going to save those boneheads before the pirates decide to finish them off. There’s two of us.”

  “There are three of us,” J-6 said, striding forward from her place against the wall.

  “I don’t think a droid is going to be very useful in a fight,” Vernestra said.

  “Then it is a good thing I am no ordinary droid.” J-6’s center compartment opened up, and several mechanical arms sprang forth, all of them holding blasters of various sizes. “I am also programmed for protection, surveillance, and interdiction.” Another arm sprang from J-6’s back, holding a long-range cannon, and Vernestra blinked before looking at Avon.

  “Uh, yeah, I guess I should have told you about the blasters,” the girl said with a sheepish smile. “My mom is really, really overprotective.”

  Vernestra took a deep breath and let it out. “Well then, let us go figure out how to save our friends.”

  It was slow going heading back to the spot where Vernestra and Imri had watched the pirates the night before. J-6 was much slower than the organics, and the uneven terrain just made her travel all the more difficult. Avon watched the droid walk and frowned. “We’re going to get you thrusters when we get back to Port Haileap,” she said. “This is frustrating.”

  “Hmmm, I’ve never considered such a thing, but I would enjoy a few upgrades. I’ll make you a list,” J-6 said. It was odd to be around a droid who was so clearly driven by her own desires. Whatever Avon had done had made the droid seem much less like a machine and more like a living creature. But then they were close enough to see the cargo ship and Vernestra was forced to leave her musings for another time.