“No!” he said through gritted teeth. He refused to win against the plant-thing in this way. Zekk threw the retrieved staff aside and stood unarmed as the stinging tentacles drew back, then poised themselves to attack with renewed force.
But Zekk kept his mind clear, his thoughts calm. “I am not your prey,” he murmured.
The tree had no intelligence, just a rudimentary mass of vascular plant fiber with reflexes that responded like muscles. Hungry tentacles lashed at him—only to slide harmlessly away, as if his entire body were coated with some invisible super lubricant.
“I am not your prey,” Zekk repeated.
The ineffective vines reached toward him, but they could not touch his skin. Sinuous appendages danced in frustration around his arms, his head, his back.
Zekk turned away from the tree and walked slowly beyond the reach of the grasping tentacles. He knew he had temporarily let down his guard, a failure of sorts. But he had seen the dark side, recognized it, and rejected it! He would put it behind him now. He felt as if he had emerged from a raging storm with only a few drops of water clinging to him. The storm was past. A sense of warmth and peace came over him.
At the edge of the clearing, standing beside the thick bushes, he saw Master Luke Skywalker watching him with a quiet smile on his face.
“I’m proud of you, Zekk,” he said. “It took courage to turn away from your old instincts. Sometimes it’s harder to unlearn bad teaching than it is to learn new skills. It will be hard to forget what Brakiss taught you.”
“Yes,” Zekk said. “I’ve got to learn it the right way now. I feel like a kid learning to walk again—and I thought I already knew how. It’s… intimidating.” He said the word in a small voice, as if reluctant to admit it. “All the tests and exercises here remind me of what I learned at the Shadow Academy. I’m afraid to do things the same way. I mean, what if I do them wrong again?”
“There’s no single way to become a Jedi,” Luke Skywalker said. “If it makes you more comfortable, we’ll find a different path. Try a new assignment. Take something you’re already good at—something you enjoy—and use the Force, little by little, to enhance your abilities. It doesn’t have to be fighting with a staff, or levitating rocks, or sensing danger. The Force is in all things. Find a task that feels right. Enjoy it, but let the Force guide you. You need to learn to accept your Jedi abilities, not fear them.”
“I can try anything?” Zekk said. “Anything I enjoy?”
“I’m sure you can think of something, Zekk,” Luke said.
The darkhaired young man just smiled.
Jedi trainees dragged a few more dried branches and pieces of dead wood from the surrounding jungle and piled it high in the courtyard. Master Luke Skywalker readied a bonfire while his students gathered to hear him speak.
Jacen Solo ran a hand through his tousled hair, scratched an itch on his scalp, and settled down on the ledge beside his friend Tenel Ka.
They had found seats on one of the stone blocks of the rebuilt pyramid’s lower levels; from there they would have a good view of the fire and Jacen’s uncle Luke.
Jacen’s twin sister Jaina, who loved to tinker with machines, had spent the afternoon with their Wookiee friend Lowbacca and his miniaturized translating droid, Em Teedee. They had worked beneath the Hapan passenger cruiser’s navigational consoles, upgrading its starmaps and position-finding capabilities. As Princess of Hapes, the warrior girl Tenel Ka actually owned the Rock Dragon, but she preferred to let Jaina and Lowie pilot it.
Now the two tinkerers and the tiny, silver droid hurried up to sit beside Jacen and Tenel Ka as four new students prepared to light the bonfire.
Jaina still had a few smudges of grease on her cheeks and chin.
Lowie’s ginger-colored fur was ruffled, but they both looked satisfied.
“So, the ship’s up and working again?” Jacen asked. “There’s no telling when we might need to grab it and go rescue somebody. We’re Jedi Knights now, you know.”
Jaina gave an unladylike snort, as if insulted at the suggestion that she might not have left the ship in perfect working order. “Of course it’s working. Rock Dragon’s ready whenever we are.”
“Oh, my,” Em Teedee said. “I do hope you aren’t planning any emergencies. In future, I suggest that we avoid any adventures that might involve emergencies. Far too dangerous, if you ask me.”
“Come on, Em Teedee,” Jacen said. “We’ve upgraded your capabilities. Don’t you want to test your limits?”
“Indeed not,” the little droid said from his place at Lowbacca’s belt.
The Wookiee chuffed and patted the droid good-naturedly.
Tenel Ka’s face remained solemn during this exchange—then again, she usually was serious, Jacen thought, even though he constantly tried to make her laugh. “I am ready for whatever circumstances dictate,” she said. “We are now required to look at the fire and listen to Master Skywalker.”
“This is a fact,” Jacen said with a chuckle, repeating Tenel Ka’s own oft-used phrase.
Earlier that afternoon, a ship had come in bearing a pair of Jedi Knights who had been trainees when Luke Skywalker founded his Jedi academy here. The two Jedi visitors, exhausted from a dangerous mission they had just completed, had gone quickly into the temple to refresh themselves. Not long afterward, Luke had announced a celebration for that evening. Jacen wondered eagerly what his uncle intended to talk about.
Now the fire blazed high. Orange flames crackled through the pile of dead wood; spicy-smelling smoke wafted upward from the burning lichens and mosses that clung to the underbrush. While the last few Jedi trainees made their way to their seats, Jacen played with a small bluish-green frill lizard he had found making a nest out of a mound of dry leaves in a crevice between the Great Temple’s stone blocks.
The lizard appeared content to sit on Jacen’s left fist, but seemed much less comfortable with Jacen’s opposite hand. Every time he brought his right forefinger close to the lizard’s nose, the creature flared out an intimidating scarlet frill around its neck and flapped its scales in self-defense. When Jacen pulled his finger away, the frill went back down. He moved his finger close again; the frill reappeared, and the lizard’s eyes opened wide.
Tenel Ka watched with interest. The lizard-skin armor she wore clung to her body and glittered in the firelight. Though the night would be cool, the warrior girl never seemed to require any more warmth than the supple armor provided.
As a hush fell over the crowd gathered by the ancient pyramid, Master Skywalker stepped in front of the bonfire. The flames blazed higher behind him. He stood silhouetted in warm light, just a normal-sized man, despite the fact that he had changed the fate of the entire galaxy.
“We’re all here because we are—or want to be—Jedi Knights,” Luke said.
“Except for me, of course,” Em Teedee said primly, and Lowie shushed him with a growl.
“Jedi Knights protected the Republic… but it is important for us to think about whether being protected is always, good.” He paused to let that sink in. Tenel Ka frowned, and Jacen tried to think of a circumstance where protection might not be desired.
“We learn from our mistakes,” Luke continued. “And sometimes, if we shelter people from all the bad things that can happen, they don’t learn to protect themselves… and even greater tragedies may occur.”
During this speech, Zekk quietly joined his friends on the ledge.
One arm was bandaged. Lowie rumbled a question, but Zekk just gave a secretive smile and focused on Master Skywalker.
“I grew up on Tatooine,” Luke said. “A desert planet with two suns. I was the foster son of my uncle Owen, a poor moisture farmer who had little happiness in a life filled only with hard work. Aunt Beru spent days at home watching the farm while my uncle and I checked our moisture vaporators, or went into Anchorhead or Mos Eisley to get supplies we couldn’t buy from Jawa traders.