“Do, or do not. There is no try,” Zekk muttered to himself.
He pressed the power stud—and the lightsaber flared to life at the first touch. The throbbing blade glowed a pure yellow-orange, like a captured flame enclosed in a long, thin tube. With the greatest care, he moved his weapon, and the ionization thrum made a musical sound in the air. The lightsaber felt right in his hand—not a seductive power that he might be tempted to misuse, but a precise and well-controlled weapon that fit him perfectly. A Jedi weapon … for a Jedi Knight.
Relief washed through him. Zekk allowed himself a contented smile. He held the flame-orange blade high. The bright glow on his face seemed like a purifying fire. He had come through his long ordeal and survived. From now on, everything would be right.
Nothing would ever be right again.
Anja tossed and turned in her room and finally rolled over to slam her fist against the hard stone wall. The pain jarred her thoughts, distracted her for just an instant. But the stinging of her knuckles rapidly faded to a dull throb, far overshadowed by the demanding outcry of need that coursed through her body. Andris … andris … andris …
. Anja had thought she could stand it for as long as necessary, but time had only amplified the pain until the screaming need inside her head became unbearable. She couldn’t kid herself any longer. Czethros had gone into hiding after the disaster on Cloud City. He would never provide her with the supply of spice she desperately needed. Anja couldn’t count on him, and she couldn’t survive if she didn’t get another dose of andris—and soon.
She would have to get some herself. She would go right to the source. There was no other way. She had to take matters into her own hands.
Anja certainly couldn’t obtain any spice here on Yavin 4, definitely not at the Jedi academy. These students of the Force seemed to draw their pleasure simply from staring at rocks and meditating. She had tried, but that just didn’t work for her. Anja had always been independent. When a problem presented itself, she faced the challenge, she devised a solution, she found a way.
She got up from her sweat-soaked bed, turned the glowpanel to its lowest setting, and dressed quietly. The rain had stopped late that afternoon, and the Great Temple had fallen into a peaceful quietness as the other Jedi students slept or practiced their mind-intensive studies. Anja gathered her few meager supplies, hesitated before she clipped her antique lightsaber in place on her belt. Without the boost she received from a dose of spice, she didn’t know how well she could use the Jedi weapon.
Anja again retied her leather headband around her forehead to hold back her long, streaked hair. She tucked her boots under her arms and scurried barefoot across the cold stone floor.
She froze in the shadows as she heard the rolling hum and saw the blinking form of Artoo-Detoo trundling down one of the corridors ahead. Fortunately, the little astromech droid turned left and disappeared into the shadows without seeing her. She drew in a deep breath and started moving again.
Anja hurried until she reached the opening down to the hangar beneath the pyramid. Standing in the cool shadows, she looked around, trying to make her choice from the ships parked there. She knew she could fly any craft. She’d been trained for years as a smuggler, flying from Ord Mantell back to her war-torn homeworld of Anobis. She needed something fast, without markings.
The Lightning Rod.
Ducking low, Anja crept to the door of the hangar bay and looked across the landing field toward Zekk’s battered craft. Old man Peckhum, who had used the stock light freighter for many years to haul supplies in and around the New Republic, had given it to Zekk as his personal ship.
Anja had no choice. She had to get away, to get what she needed before the pain overwhelmed her. Anja’s eyes narrowed, and she allowed herself to focus on nothing beyond her goal. Her feet made no noise on the dew-soaked grass as she ran across the landing field to the Lightning Rod and up the still-open ramp. She slipped into the worn cockpit seat, strapped herself down, and powered up the engines.
Security was lax here on Yavin 4. With so many Jedi Knights around, Luke Skywalker seemed to believe they could drive back any military assault; a New Republic fleet in orbit also helped to protect the academy. But no one would stop her from the inside. She could take the little freighter, fly out, and dive into hyperspace before anyone reacted quickly enough to question her.
When she powered up the repulsorjets, a sleepy guard came running to the distant door of the hangar bay and stared in surprise at the commandeered ship. He waved, signaling for her to wait, but Anja punched the engines, raised the craft off the field, and streaked out over the treetops.
The Lightning Rod rapidly left the tall Massassi pyramid behind, flying low over the jungle canopy to foil any scanning attempts. The tangled foliage was like a lumpy carpet below her. After she had rounded the sharp curve of the small moon, Anja arced off into space.
Determined to let nothing distract her from her goal, Anja ignored the comm chatter as alarms were raised. She would be gone well before the defensive fleet could intercept her.
Anja set the coordinates in the Lightning Rod’s navicomputer, filling them in from memory. Spice … she had to have spice. There was no time to weigh the many options: she would go directly to the source.
Starlines unfolded around her and the Lightning Rod plunged into hyperspace … heading for Kessel.
3
It was the start of as perfect a morning as Zekk could ever remember. Outside, bright sunshine poured down on the Jedi academy, and a fresh breeze carrying the scents of a thousand luscious jungle plants wafted in through the thick stone window openings. The young Jedi Knights were used to getting up very early, and today they had special reason, since Peckhum was due to leave.
At morning meal, Jaina greeted Zekk and Peckhum with a hug. There had been no mistaking the pride in her eyes when she saw the new lightsaber hanging at Zekk’s belt. “Looks like a fine weapon, Zekk. If you want a sparring partner later on, come see me.”
“After I show Master Skywalker.”
“Hey,” Jacen said as he sauntered in, grinning. “Two Gamorrean guards are walking down a narrow, deserted canyon when suddenly a rancor comes out and starts chasing them. One of the Gamorreans stops to put on his best running shoes. ‘Don’t waste time,’ shouts the other one, ‘you can’t outrun a rancor with those!’ ‘I don’t have to outrun a rancor,’ says the first one as he finishes lacing his shoes, ‘I just have to outrun you!’ ” A chorus of chuckles and groans rewarded him.
With additional jokes, Jacen was in rare form during the meal, and they all laughed so hard it was difficult not to choke as they ate. Tenel Ka offered a rare toast of friendship to the entire group seated at their table. Lowie surprised them all by presenting a dramatic Wookiee speech while Em Teedee provided hilariously inaccurate translations, which the companions now recognized with their increasing grasp of Lowbacca’s native language.
Jaina, sparkling with good humor, teased old Peckhum throughout the meal and squeezed Zekk’s hand under the table. The old spacer laughed and enjoyed the attention.
Even when it was time for Peckhum to go, Zekk’s mood could not be dampened. “I’m sorry you couldn’t meet Anja,” he told the spacer. “I knocked on the door to her quarters, but she didn’t answer. Must be keeping to herself again. She’s got … a lot of things to work out in her head. Besides, her communication skills aren’t always the greatest.”