Shadow Academy

by Kevin J. Anderson

  series of widely spaced grooves for fingerholds.

  A lightsaber.

  "You will need this for today's training," Brakiss said, broadening his

  smile. "Take it. It's yours."

  Jacen's eyes widened. His hand reached forward, but he drew back, trying to

  hide his eagerness. "What do I have to do for it?" he asked warily.

  "Nothing," Brakiss answered. "Just use it, that's all."

  Jacen swallowed and did not meet Brakiss's eyes, afraid to show how he

  longed to have his own lightsaber. But he didn't want to have it in this

  place, under these circumstances. "Hey, I'm not supposed to," he said.

  "I haven't completed my training. Master Skywalker and I had this discussion

  just a few days ago."

  "Nonsense, Brakiss said. "Master Skywalker is holding you back

  unnecessarily. You already know how to use one of these. Go ahead."

  Brakiss extended the lightsaber handle to Jacen, moving it closer,

  tantalizing him. "Here at the Shadow Academy we feel that lightsaber

  skills are among the first talents a Jedi should develop, because strong,

  able warriors are always needed. If a Jedi Knight is not ready to fight for

  a cause, then what good is he?"

  Brakiss pressed the lightsaber into Jacen's hands, and Jacen instinctively

  curled his fingers around it. The weapon felt at the same time heavy with

  responsibility and light with power. The finger grooves were widely spaced

  for his young hand, but he would grow accustomed to it.

  Jacen touched the power button, and with a snap-hiss a sapphire beam

  crackled out, indigo at the core but electric blue on the fringes. He

  flicked the blade from side to side, and the molten energy sliced through

  the air, trailing a faint smell of ozone. He slashed back again.

  Brakiss folded his hands together. "Good," he said.

  Jacen whirled and held the lightsaber up. "Hey, what's to stop me from just

  cutting you down right here, Brakiss? You're evil. You've kidnapped us.

  You're training enemies of the New Republic ."

  Brakiss laughed-not a mocking laugh, but simply an expression of wry

  amusement. "You won't kill me, young Jedi," he said. "You would not cut down

  an unarmed opponent. Cold-blooded murder is not part of the training Master

  Skywalker gives his young trainees . . . unless he has changed his

  curriculum since I left Yavin 4?"

  Brakiss's alabaster-smooth face seemed exquisitely serene, but he raised his

  pale eyebrows. "Of course if you do let loose your anger," he said, "and

  slice me in half, you will have taken a significant first step down the dark

  path. Even though I won't be here to see the benefits, the Empire will no

  doubt use your abilities to great advantage."

  "That's enough," Jacen said, switching off the lightsaber.

  "You're right," Brakiss agreed. "No more talk. This is a training center."

  "What are you going to do to me?" Jacen said, holding up the lightsaber

  handle, alert and ready to switch it on again.

  "Just practice, my dear boy," Brakiss said, casing toward the door. "This

  room can project holo-remotes, imaginary enemies for you to fight, to help

  you hone your skill with your new weapon. Your lightsaber."

  "If they're just holo-remotes, why should I fight at all?" Jacen said

  defiantly. "Why should I cooperate?"

  Brakiss crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm inclined to ask you to indulge

  me, but I doubt you would do that-at least not yet. So let us put it another

  way." His voice took on a sudden hard edge, as sharp as razor crystal. "The

  holo-remotes will be monster warriors. But how do you know I won't slip in

  an actual creature to fight against you? You would never know the

  difference, the holo-remotes are so realistic. And if you stand there and

  refuse to fight, a real enemy might just remove your head from your

  shoulders.

  "Of course, I probably won't do that in the first session. Probably not. Or

  maybe I will, to show you I'm sincere. You'll be here a long time training

  in the dark side. You never know when I might lose patience with you."

  Brakiss stepped out of the training chamber, and the metal doors shut behind

  him with a clang.

  Alone in the dimly lit chamber with its flat gray walls, Jacen waited,

  tense. Except for his breathing and his heartbeat, the room was completely

  silent, as if it swallowed all noise. He shifted, felt the hard Corusca gem

  still hidden in his boot. He took comfort in the fact that the Imperials had

  not found it and taken it away from him, but he didn't know how it could

  help him now.

  Jacen turned the lightsaber handle in his hands, trying to decide what he

  should do. Intellectually, he was certain Brakiss was bluffing, that the man

  would never send in a real murderous monster. But a part of Jacen's heart

  wasn't so sure, and the slight twinge of doubt made him uneasy. Then the air

  shimmered. Jacen heard a grinding sound and whirled to look behind him. A

  door he had not noticed before crawled open to reveal a shadowy dungeon from

  which something large and shambling scraped forward, dragging sharp claws

  along the floor.

  Jacen's hobby back at home had been studying strange and unusual animals and

  plants. He had pored over the records of known alien races, memorizing them

  all-but still it took him a few moments to recognize the hideous monster

  that was now emerging from its cell. It was an Abyssin, a one-eyed monster

  with greenish-tan skin, broad shoulders, and long, powerful arms that hung

  near the ground and ended in claws that could shred trees.

  The cyclopean creature plodded out of its cell, growled, and looked around

  with its one eye. The Abyssin seemed to be in pain, and the only thing it

  saw - and therefore its only target - was young Jacen, armed with his

  lightsaber. The Abyssin roared, but Jacen stood firm. He held up his free

  hand, palm outward, trying to use the soothing Force techniques that had

  proven so successful when he'd tamed new animals as his pets.

  "Calm down," he said. "Calm down, I don't want to hurt you. I'm not with

  these people."

  But the Abyssin didn't want to be calmed, and stalked forward, swinging its

  long arms like clawed pendulums. Of course, Jacen realized, if the monster

  was really just a hologram, then his Jedi techniques would be irrelevant.

  The Abyssin pulled out a long, wicked club that had been strapped against

  its back. The club looked like a gnarled branch with spikes on one end, with

  a far longer reach than the lightsaber's. The one-eyed monster could pound

  Jacen and never be touched by the Jedi blade.

  "Blaster bolts!" Jacen muttered under his breath.

  He flicked on the lightsaber, feeling the power of the energy blade that

  pulsed in front of him with a blinding blue glow. The Abyssin blinked its

  single large eye, then charged forward, its fang-filled mouth wide open. The

  creature swung its spiked club like a battering ram. Jacen slashed in front

  of himself with the lightsaber defensively, instinctively. The glowing blade

  sliced off the tip of the club as easily as if it were a piece of soft

  cheese. The spiked end clanged on the metal floor.

  The monster looked at the
smoking end of its club for just a second, then

  howled and charged again. Jacen was ready this time-his heart pounding,

  adrenaline flowing, attuned to the Force and focused on his enemy. The

  Abyssin hammered down with the club, too close for Jacen to strike with the

  lightsaber. He dodged to the side, and the creature swung again, this time

  with a raking handful of claws. Jacen made a dive for the floor and rolled,

  holding the lightsaber at arm's length to keep from harming himself with the

  deadly blade.

  The Abyssin pounced on him, thrusting with the thick end of the club. But

  Jacen lay on his back and held the lightsaber up, twisting his wrists to

  slash the remainder of the club down to a smoldering stump in the monster's

  hands, then rolled sideways to dodge the heavy wood as it fell to the floor.

  The Abyssin tossed away the useless stump and yowled again, then lunged to

  grab Jacen from the floor. But Jacen held the lightsaber in front of

  himself, pushing it forward like a spear. The glowing tip plunged into the

  descending monster's broad chest, scorching through until it disintegrated

  the Abyssin's heart. With a loud and fading shriek of pain, the creature

  slumped and fell forward. Jacen winced, knowing he would be crushed by the

  brute-but in midair the cyclops flickered and dissolved into static, then

  nothingness, as the hologram projectors shut down.

  Gasping and sweating, Jacen turned off the lightsaber. The hissing energy

  beam was swallowed into the handle with a descending thwoop. He stood up and

  brushed himself off. As the door opened again, Jacen whirled, ready to face

  another hideous enemy. But only Brakiss stood there, quietly applauding.

  "Very good, my young Jedi," Brakiss said. "That wasn't so bad now, was it?

  You show great potential. All you need is the opportunity to practice."

  * 14 *

  Lowie crouched atop the sleeping platform in his own cell, back pressed to

  the corner, shaggy knees drawn up to his chest. He wallowed in abject misery

  and self-recrimination; occasionally he let out a groan. How could he have

  been so stupid? He had let the riptide of Brakiss's teaching draw him

  further and further into his sea of anger until he had been immersed in it,

  swept away by its current. Jacen had not given in. And seductive as

  Brakiss's teachings were-Lowie refused to think of him as Master

  Brakiss-Jaina had not succumbed to them either; she had merely stood up and

  spoken for what she believed.

  A growl of self-reproach rumbled deep in his throat. He alone, who had

  always prided himself on his thoughtfulness-on his dedication to studying,

  to learning, to understanding-had allowed himself to be influenced by the

  poisonous teachings. He would have to be more careful in the future. Resist,

  block out the words.

  If Jacen and Jaina could stay strong, then so could Lowie. Jaina had not

  given up. She said she had a plan, and he would need to be ready to do his

  part when the time came to escape. Lowie drew comfort from the thought of

  his friends' strength. He could resist giving in to his anger. He pounded a

  furry fist against the wall at his side and bellowed his defiance. He would

  resist.

  As if in response to his challenge, the door slid open and two stormtroopers

  stepped in, followed by Tamith Kai. Lowie wrinkled his nose, noting

  something else that had entered his room uninvited: the unpleasant smell

  that hung about them, an odor of darkness. The stormtroopers each carried an

  activated stun wand, and Lowie guessed that they expected him to cause

  further trouble.

  "You will stand," Tamith Kai said.

  Lowie wondered whether he dared resist. A prod from one of the

  stormtroopers' stun wands answered the question for him. Tamith Kai's violet

  gaze raked up and down Lowie for a moment, and then she blew out a short

  breath, as if about to start a difficult task that she had set herself.

  "You are not yet skilled in the ways of the Force," she said, not unkindly,

  "yet you have the capacity for great anger." She nodded with approval. "This

  is your greatest strength. I will teach you now to draw upon that anger, to

  bring forth your full power in the Force. You will be surprised at how it

  will accelerate your learning." She turned to the stormtroopers. "Remove his

  belt."

  Lowie put a protective hand to the glossy braids that encircled his waist

  and crossed over his shoulder. He had risked his life to acquire these

  fibers from the syren plant as part of his rites of passage into Wookiee

  adulthood; then he had painstakingly woven them into a belt that symbolized

  his independence and self-reliance.

  He opened his mouth to snarl an angry objection but stopped short, realizing

  that this was exactly the response Tamith Kai hoped for-to goad him into

  anger. He would not be so easily fooled this time. He stood, resolute and

  passive, while the stormtroopers removed the precious belt.

  She motioned for him to precede her from the room. One of the stormtroopers

  administered an encouraging prod. Tamith Kai's smile mocked Lowie. "Yes,

  young Wookiee," she said, "your anger shall be your greatest strength."

  They led him to a large, unfurnished chamber. Bright orange and red light

  glared down from unfiltered glowpanels set into the ceiling. The chilled air

  stank of metal and sweat. When the door slid shut with a hiss and a clang,

  Lowie looked around. He was completely alone. Lowbacca stood waiting for

  what seemed like hours, alert, prepared for whatever Tamith Kai might use to

  provoke him. His golden eyes roved the blank walls with suspicion.

  Nothing happened.

  As he waited, the lights in the room seemed to glow brighter, the air to

  turn colder. Finally, he sat down with his back pressed to one wall, still

  wary, still watching.

  Nothing.

  After a long time, Lowie straightened up with a jerk, realizing that he had

  been about to doze off. He eyed the walls again, looking for any changes,

  and found himself wishing for even the annoying Em Teedee to keep him

  awake-and to keep him company.

  Sound exploded in Lowie's head, high-pitched and excruciating, awakening him

  from a fitful sleep. Garish lights flashed overhead, blinding in their

  intensity. Lowie sprang to his feet. Trying to focus his eyes, he looked

  around for the source of the siren and pressed his hands over his ears,

  groaning in pain. But he could not block out the sound that sliced into his

  brain as a laser would slice into soft wood. Without warning, all sound

  ceased, leaving a vacuum of silence. The glowpanels stabilized, returning to

  their former level of brightness.

  Tamith Kai's face appeared behind a broad transparisteel panel in the wall

  that Lowie had not noticed before. Still groggy from his interrupted sleep,

  Lowie threw himself against the panel in frustration.

  Tamith Kai's pleased chuckle sobered him instantly. "A fine start," she

  said.

  Lowie backed into the center of the room and sat down, wrapping his long

  hairy arms around his legs, afraid to make any further response lest he lose

  his temper again.

  Her ta
unting voice echoed through the empty chamber. "Oh, we are far from

  finished with our lesson, Wookiee. You will stand." Lowie pressed his

  forehead to his knees, refusing to look at her, refusing to move.

  "Ah," the voice continued, "perhaps it is for the best. The fire of your

  anger will burn brighter the more fuel I add."

  The high-pitched sound drilled into his brain again, and flashing lights

  assaulted his eyes. Lowie concentrated, focused his mind inside himself. He

  mutely endured. The lights and sound ceased as a heavy black object fell

  from an access hatch onto the floor beside him. Deep in concentration, Lowie

  didn't flinch, but he looked up to see what it was.

  "This is a sonic generator," Tamith Kai's rich, deep voice announced. "It

  produces the lovely music you've been enjoying today." An undercurrent of

  cruel amusement rippled through her words. "It also contains the

  high-intensity strobe relay for the glowpanels. To complete your lesson for

  the day, all you need do is destroy the sonic generator."

  Lowie looked at the boxy object: it measured less than a meter to a side,

  was made of a dull burnished metal with rounded edges and corner-s, and had

  no handholds whatsoever. He reached for it.

  "Rest assured," Tamith Kai's voice came again, "even a full-grown Wookiee

  cannot lift it without using the Force."

  Lowie tried to heft the object, found that she was correct. He closed his

  eyes and concentrated, drawing on the Force, and tried again. The generator

  hardly budged. Lowie shook his head in confusion.