Jacen swallowed nervously. Jaina lifted her chin and scowled at the two teachers. Lowie bristled, clenching and unclenching his hairy hands.
“Let me point out,” Tamith Kai said, her voice thick and powerful, “that these are not holograms. These are real threats, and if one strikes you, you will feel real pain.”
“Just what kind of objects are these, anyway?” Jacen asked. “What’re you going to throw at us?”
“There will be three levels to your test,” Brakiss answered. “During the first stage we will throw hard balls at you. They may sting, but will cause no permanent damage. In the second round, as the test speeds up, we will throw rocks, which could break bones and cause serious injury.”
Tamith Kai’s deep red lips wore a broad smile, as if she were savoring some pleasant thought. “The third round will involve knives.”
Jaina sucked in a shaky breath.
“Glad you have such faith in our abilities,” Jacen grumbled.
“I will be greatly disappointed if you are both killed,” Brakiss told them, his expression earnest.
“Hey, so will we,” Jacen said.
“I think he’ll get over it before we will,” Jaina added in a low voice.
Jacen shifted his weight on his feet and covered a wince as he stepped down on the hard Corusca gem in his boot. He had kept it hidden there, not knowing what else to do with it—but right now the last thing he wanted was to feel the sharp gemstone under his heel and be distracted. He wiggled his foot until the gem was tucked comfortably off to the side.
Brakiss snugged the blindfold over Jacen’s eyes, and everything went black. “The Wookiee will do what he can to protect you.”
Jacen gripped the hard stick in his hands and considered dealing the Dark Jedi teacher a good whack on the kneecaps, then claiming he had become disoriented by the blindfold and it was an accident. But he decided that such an act would only buy them trouble, and they needed their energy for other purposes.
“Good luck,” Brakiss said, unseen, close to his ear.
Jacen didn’t respond, and he heard Tamith Kai chuckle as they led Lowie out of the chamber. The Wookiee moaned, but Em Teedee’s tinny voice snapped back, “Now, Lowbacca, complaining will do you very little good. You must learn to be brave and dedicated, as I am.”
Jacen, standing in blackness with nothing to hold on to but his stick, heard the doors hiss shut behind them. “You ready for this, Jaina?” he asked.
“What kind of question is that?” she said.
The room remained silent around them. He could hear himself breathe, his heart pounding in his ears. He sensed Jaina beside him, heard the rustle of her clothes as she moved.
“Might be better if we stand back-to-back,” she suggested, “cover each other as much as we can.”
They pressed themselves shoulder-to-shoulder and listened and waited. Soon they heard a hum of machinery, a quiet, grinding sound, as one of the metal portholes slid open. Jacen reached out with the Force to see through the blindfold, to detect where the projectile would come from.
Then, with a sudden whump of compressed air, one of the objects shot at them like a cannonball. Using his senses, Jacen whirled, swinging the stick like a bat. He tried to smack the ball out of the way, but it struck him on the shoulder. It was hard, and it stung.
“Ow!” he yelped. Then a second ball shot out. He heard the sizzle of the remotes firing, but then Jaina also cried out behind him—not so much in pain as in startled embarrassment.
He tried to visualize where the next missile would come from. The noises came faster now. He heard another metal porthole hissing open, another hard ball shooting toward him. He swung the wooden stick, and this time grazed it with the edge. He felt a surge of triumph, but realized that he had hit the ball more through blind luck than any skill with the Force.
Another hiss of a porthole, another ball, and another, coming from a different direction. Under Lowie’s control, the remotes shot tiny blasts at the flying balls. Jacen heard an impact and thought perhaps Lowie had struck one of the targets. He hoped the lanky Wookiee wouldn’t misfire.
Brakiss had instructed them to use anger to increase their control over the Force; as another ball hit Jacen in the ribs, the stinging impact did make him want to lash out in retaliation. But Jacen also remembered his uncle Luke’s lessons: a Jedi knows the Force best when he is calm and passive, when he lets it flow through him rather than trying to twist it to his own purposes.
Jacen heard a loud crack of wood as his sister struck one of the hard balls. “Gotcha!” she cried.
As he let his mind open up, Jacen saw a small, bright blur through the blindfolded darkness; and he knew the next ball would come from that direction. He used the Force to nudge it out of the way, and the ball swung wide, smacking the wall instead. Then he saw another bright blur, then another, and another, as more projectiles came, faster and faster!
He used the Force. He swung the wooden stick, trying to keep up with the flying balls. He sensed that Jaina was also doing better, and that the laser bolts from Lowie’s remotes seemed to be striking their targets more often. But with the sheer number of projectiles, Lowie had to miss occasionally.
Something hard and rough struck Jacen on the right arm just at the elbow, and the wave of blazing pain took his breath away. His arm went numb, and Jacen shifted the stick to his left hand, realizing that the test had reached its second stage—they were being bombarded with sharp stones.
In the observation chamber, Lowbacca worked frantically at his computer controls, guiding the four defensive drones. He fired their lasers and vaporized a few targets. But then the projectile launches picked up speed, and Lowie knew he didn’t dare misfire—because if he struck one of the twins with a laser, it would do at least as much damage as one of the stones.
He missed another one, and a rock hit Jaina on the thigh. He saw her blindfolded face crumple in a wince of sudden agony. Jaina’s knees buckled, and she nearly went down; but she managed to keep her balance somehow, swinging automatically with the stick and deflecting another stone that came straight at her head.
More sharp rocks hurtled toward the twins, launched with deadly speed. Lowie began shooting all the remotes at once—targeting, firing, targeting, firing. He had already slagged one of the portholes so it could no longer launch stones. But despite his best efforts, he missed again, and this time a rock struck Jacen in the side.
The twins were both hurt now, badly bruised and reeling, though they kept fighting as best they could. Lowie groaned a quiet apology and kept working at the computer controls.
Em Teedee spoke in a sharp, pestering voice. “Need I point out, Lowbacca, that the Empire will be quite disappointed if you don’t perform to the best of your abilities in this test?”
Lowie didn’t waste energy telling the translating droid to be quiet. He worked the complex controls, calling up programming, reassigning parameters, hammering instructions with his left hand, controlling the remotes with his right hand, using everything he knew about computers. Lowie had a desperate plan—but his attempt absorbed part of his concentration. In his moment of distraction more and more of the hard rocks got through to pummel the Jedi twins. But Lowie had no choice, if he was to make his plan come off.
He sensed that in order to demonstrate their power, the teachers at the Shadow Academy were willing to risk hurting their students. As long as they were left with the strongest trainees, they didn’t care if someone actually got killed during the exercises. Lowie’s only hope was to bring it all down.
He glanced up, tossing ginger-colored fur out of his eyes, as the stones kept flying.