Brakiss gestured the young man inside the chamber. Zekk entered and stood waiting, but Brakiss remained outside. “Because it will be a fight to the death,” he said, then slammed the door, locking Zekk inside.
Within the echoing airlock chamber, Zekk waited. Master Brakiss’s words reverberated in his mind. The doors remained sealed, and he forced himself to breathe calmly, though he felt claustrophobic and trapped. Drawing his trusted lightsaber, he gripped it until his knuckles turned white, but he did not yet turn on the blade.
The seconds pounded by, and still the other door didn’t open. Fear swelled within him, but he pushed it aside. A Jedi had no place for fear, no reason to fear. The Force was in all things, and the dark side was his ally.
Still, although Zekk had defeated ferocious creatures in the simulation chamber, those opponents had been mere phantoms. He knew that many more dangerous things might happen in a real battle with a real opponent.
He looked at the inner door, wondering if he should hack it open with his lightsaber and force his way free. He needed to see what lurked on the other side. Was this perhaps part of the test? How long should he wait?
Patience, he told himself. He began to count to a hundred—but before he reached ten, the automatic locks on the inner door gave a thump that vibrated through the metal wall. The door swung open by itself.
Zekk felt a disorienting lurch as he stepped out into well-lighted nothingness…. The floors and ceilings and walls spun about in a blur until he finally realized that he had tumbled into a chamber where the artificial gravity had been turned off—the zero-gravity arena at the hub of the Shadow Academy! He floated free in the open air of the spherical chamber, with no sense of down or up, with nothing to stop his motion.
Zekk’s stomach gave a lurch, but he drew a deep breath and concentrated on not throwing up. He focused on the images around him, trying to snatch answers from the briefest glimpses. Grasping the hilt of his lightsaber, he slowed his weightless tumbling and balanced himself. Only then did he notice the seats and standing areas that studded the walls of the chamber, the dozens of noisy onlookers, the balconies pasted on at haphazard angles to accommodate spectators in zero gravity.
Stormtroopers stood in ranks, gripping the balcony rails. The other students at the Shadow Academy sat all around, ready to watch the spectacle. He stiffened, wondering just how difficult this test was going to be. What had Brakiss meant? What was Zekk supposed to do now?
Boulders like miniature asteroids floated in the center of the open arena, along with metal boxes, small cargo containers, and artificial geometrical constructions. Long durasteel pipes drifted free. Zekk could make no sense of the random mix of large and small objects.
Suddenly he understood: they were obstacles.
On the curved wall at the far side of the arena, Zekk saw the clear blister of an observation dome. With his sharp eyesight he spotted figures inside, figures he recognized: the silver-robed figure of Brakiss; the intimidating Nightsister Tamith Kai, with her voluminous ebony hair and her black-spined cape; and the black-armored figure of Qorl the TIE pilot.
Master Brakiss leaned forward and spoke into a voice amplifier. His words boomed through the amphitheater, and all background noise faded.
“You are all here to witness the selection of a leader for our new Dark Jedi trainees—a leader who shall be the first general of our Shadow Academy forces when the Second Imperium makes its grand foray to reclaim the galaxy. Here, before you, we will witness the great battle.”
On the other side of the chamber, where the view was partially blocked by drifting obstacles, another airlock opened, and a dark figure emerged. Because of the floating debris, Zekk couldn’t see who it was.
Brakiss continued, “This will be a duel to the death between Zekk”—he paused, but none of the students cheered; they knew better, for they would have to follow whoever the victor of this contest might be—“and Vilas!”
Zekk turned, keeping his lightsaber handle in front of him as he faced the thick-browed young man from Dathomir, Tamith Kai’s most powerful trainee. Vilas held his ignited lightsaber ready for the duel.
Vilas pushed off from the far wall and flew toward the obstacles at the center. Zekk switched on his weapon and did the same, moving to meet his opponent in the open space. Zekk’s heart pounded, and he realized that despite his anxiety, this was a battle he had longed for. How many times since he’d come to the Shadow Academy had Vilas been his rival? After today there would be no question as to who the greater student was.
Vilas shouted in his mocking, oily voice, “If you surrender now, young trash collector, I may only cripple you.” He laughed. Zekk felt himself flush. Norys or one of the other Lost Ones must have told Vilas their derogatory nickname for him. Trash collector.
Zekk reached the floating debris and found a pitted oblong stone, an iron-hard meteorite. He grasped it. “If you think victory is going to be that easy, Vilas, I’ll defeat you before you can blink!”
Zekk hurled the stone with all his strength. In zero gravity the meteorite shot toward the other Dark Jedi—but the equal and opposite reaction after he threw the stone surprised Zekk, and he found himself tumbling backward from the momentum. He slammed headfirst into one of the floating metal cargo containers. A flash of bright pain burst inside his skull. His ears rang. He cleared his vision just in time to see Vilas easily nudge himself out of the path of the flying rock.
Vilas laughed. “Is that the best you can do, trash collector?”
Zekk realized he had been foolish. He concentrated, using the abilities he had recently acquired. Since Vilas was no longer looking at the stone, Zekk used the Force to yank it back toward his enemy. The rock didn’t have enough distance to build up much speed, but it struck a sharp blow to Vilas’s shoulder. The other young man cried out, rebounding from the impact.
Zekk found himself floating out of control, unable to move where he wanted. He couldn’t swim through the air, and he felt entirely disoriented. The walls spun around him. Finally, his feet pressed against the side of a drifting cargo container, and he propelled himself toward Vilas again. His lightsaber drew a fiery streak through the air as he plunged forward.
Vilas was ready for him, though, his glowing energy blade held up as he spun forward. The two opponents approached like colliding cannon balls.
Zekk swung, and Vilas met his lightsaber with his own. The blades clashed and sparked. Bolts of electricity splashed off in random directions. Then Zekk shot past while Vilas scrambled in the empty air, trying to pursue.
Zekk tried to locate one of the floating obstacles for something else to bounce off of—but suddenly Jedi instinct warned him to twist out of the way. In that instant, Vilas came flying by, his lightsaber slashing and humming through the air. Zekk contorted as if leaping backward over a low fence—but not quite fast enough. His enemy’s fiery weapon skimmed too close, nicking Zekk’s prized leather armor and leaving a smoking gash.
When Vilas turned with a hoot of victory, Zekk felt anger boil up from the depths of his mind, allowing him to draw more strongly on the dark side of the Force. Reaching out into the floating debris, he grabbed a pyramidal greenhouse module and smashed the massive object into Vilas with enough force to shatter its transparisteel panes.
As Vilas reeled, he chopped with his lightsaber to cleave the greenhouse module in half. The two smoldering portions tumbled in opposite directions.
His face contorted with rage, Vilas kicked off of one of the floating segments and hurtled toward Zekk, who waited with his lightsaber held low. Vilas made ready to swipe his blade across the space where Zekk was. Zekk knew that if their blades clashed again, the momentum would send them both tumbling out of control. Just as Vilas drew back his lightsaber for a mighty blow, Zekk used the Force to give himself a sharp shove—away.