Four pairs of scantily clad male servants appeared, bringing cushioned seats for the princess and her grandmother. Tenel Ka sat, and only then noticed that at least two dozen more handsome servants had filed onto the landing pad. She closed her eyes and sighed. She might have known. It seemed that in her parents’ absence, Ta’a Chume had decided to receive Tenel Ka with as much spectacle and fanfare as possible—perhaps to prove to her aspiring-Jedi granddaughter how wonderful it was to be a member of the royal family.
Tenel Ka was not thrilled.
Three brawny young men, dressed only in loincloths, moved to the center of the landing pad and began a rhythmic display of their gymnastic abilities. Other servants along the sidelines produced stringed instruments and flutes and began a musical accompaniment. During their performance, the former queen leaned toward her granddaughter and murmured, “You are so fortunate.”
Tenel Ka blinked in surprise.
Her grandmother made an all-encompassing gesture. “Everything you see—Hapes and its sixty-three worlds—is yours to command.” Her voice took on a persuasive tone. “Not many who fail to become Jedi Knights have such a pleasant alternative. After all, unlike the weapons of battle, wielding political power does not require the use of both arms.”
Tenel Ka grimaced, not only at her grandmother’s unfair assertion that she had failed in her Jedi training, but also because one of the acrobats had performed a double handspring—an act she had done countless times herself, and one she’d always assumed she’d go right on doing. She had even included flips, cartwheels, and handsprings in her daily exercises at the Jedi academy. The Jedi academy … she missed it already.
When the gymnasts finished, a young man stepped forward and began to juggle with phenomenal agility. Tenel Ka grew more uncomfortable as she watched him pass fire crystals, hoops, and blazing torches from hand to hand, tossing them high into the air with ever-increasing speed.
Another thing I will never be able to do, Tenel Ka thought, pressing her lips into a grim line.
She tried to concentrate on the juggler’s face instead. The young man was indeed beautiful, but right then Tenel Ka would have traded every servant and guard on the landing platform for just a glimpse of a face that was friendly: Jacen, Jaina, Lowbacca, even Master Skywalker….
“You know,” her grandmother said, leaning toward her again, as if a thought had just occurred to her, “perhaps your injury was the Force’s way of showing you that you were never meant to be a Jedi Knight—that your destiny has always been to rule Hapes.”
Tenel Ka’s breath left her in a rush, as if a rancor had stepped on her stomach. She wondered if perhaps, for once, her grandmother might not be right.
9
The acoustics in the grand audience chamber on Yavin 4 could carry even a whispered word from the stage to every seat in the hall. But today no lecturer stood at the far end of the long chamber, and Jaina’s steps were so slow and hesitant that her booted feet made no sound. With the exception of Jacen and Lowie, who sat on stone benches near the front, the audience chamber remained completely empty.
No, not quite empty. Images of a confident young warrior from Dathomir filled Jaina’s vision: Tenel Ka raising her cup in a pledge of friendship, Tenel Ka braiding her long hair in preparation for Jedi training exercises, Tenel Ka scaling the outer walls of the Great Temple, pulling herself up easily hand-over-hand. Jaina could sense through their connection in the Force that similar thoughts troubled her twin brother.
Just moments after Jaina took a seat near Jacen, the Jedi historian and instructor Tionne appeared through a side door and came to stand near the three trainees. Jaina felt her brother’s mood brighten at the sight of the silvery-haired Jedi woman. Tionne had taught them to look for multiple solutions to any problem, to find choices, fresh perspectives, new alternatives. As always, Jaina was struck by the wisdom in the mother-of-pearl eyes, wisdom gained from years of studying the tales and lore of ancient Jedi.
Tionne’s voice was soft and melodious. “Master Skywalker has asked me to … help you to move forward in your lightsaber training.”
Jaina shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to think about the deadly weapon she wore clipped to a utility loop on her orange jumpsuit.
Tionne motioned to the three seated trainees. “Please. Come up on the platform where we have more room to work.”
Jacen and Lowie mounted the steps, but Jaina hung back, not sure if she could express her reluctance. But when Tionne beckoned again, smiling at her with kind patience, Jaina found herself moving to join the others.
With each step, her lightsaber bumped against her leg, a grim reminder of its deadly presence. Her heart began to pound with dread, and a cold sweat broke out on her neck and forehead. Continuing with her lightsaber training, she could see now, was going to be even more difficult than she had expected, and Jaina could tell from the set of Jacen’s jaw that her brother was also struggling to control his own anxiety. He must have sensed her difficulty too, because he turned to her with a shaky smile. “Want to hear a joke?”
She forced a laugh. “Why not?”
This took her brother by surprise, and he paused a moment to think. “Okay, why is a droid mechanic never lonely?”
Jaina shrugged, knowing better than to attempt an answer.
“Because he’s always making new friends!”
Jaina giggled in spite of herself, grateful for the release in tension. Lowie let loose a bark of laughter as well. A dimple appeared in Tionne’s cheek, and the approving glow in her alien eyes showed that she understood how hard this must be for all of them.
Then, spacing the trainees two meters apart, each facing the same direction, Tionne took them through a series of exercises, using only the hilts of their lightsabers. Clearing her mind of all else, Jaina echoed the instructor’s strong, fluid movements as if she were performing a dance.
Apparently satisfied with their progress, Tionne ended the exercise and came to stand in front of Lowie. Gesturing for Jaina to take a position beside her, facing Jacen, Tionne pressed a stud on the handle of her weapon and a shimmering silver beam sprang from it, coruscating with energy.
“Please ignite your lightsabers,” she said.
Though a frown of doubt crossed Jacen’s face, he soon held a glowing emerald blade. With a snap-hiss, Lowie’s blade appeared too, blazing a deep gold, like molten bronze. He held it at his side.
“Oh, do be careful, Master Lowbacca,” Em Teedee said from the Wookiee’s waist. “You know how delicate my circuitry is.”
Biting her lower lip, Jaina closed her eyes and touched a button on her lightsaber. Her weapon whooshed to life; the flare of its electric-violet beam and the light of the three other energy blades penetrated even through her shut eyelids, bringing with them a flood of vivid memories.
Violet. The color of the evil Nightsister Tamith Kai’s eyes.
Silver. Brakiss’s flowing robes. The Shadow Academy. Jacen and Jaina dueling with each other in holographic disguise. A mistake by either of them could have meant death.
Bronze. Almost the reddish gold of Tenel Ka’s hair. Tenel Ka’s severed arm, still holding the handle of the failed lightsaber as it exploded. The shock on Tenel Ka’s face as an emerald blade sliced through her arm.
Emerald green. The color of Zekk’s eyes, surrounded by a dark corona. Zekk, who was even now being trained on the Shadow Academy, learning to serve the Second Imperium and using the dark side of the Force. And if the Second Imperium attacked the New Republic as planned—the New Republic that Jaina and Jacen and Luke Skywalker’s other Jedi Knights had sworn to protect—she would be forced to fight. How could she not defend the New Republic, when her mother was its leader?