The captain of the freighter Verity was a huge and imposing Wookie, covered in gray fur and leather tool bandoleers. A spindly device attached to the side of his mouth translated his growled words into a human voice, speaking Basic in a low rumble. "Welcome aboard my ship, young Jedi," he said. "My name is Kerrowr. The Council tells me I'm to bring you home with me, yes?"

The three Padawans nodded their assent. Tomet said, "We're grateful for your assistance in this matter, Captain. If there is anything you need of us, please say so."

"Always happy to help the Jedi Council," Kerrowr replied. "Relax, enjoy your time here. If what I know of Jedi work is any indication, the few days you spend here will be the last time you can relax for some time." Beckoning them to follow, he led them down the corridor. "No doubt you are aware that Imokor is not a very safe place these days, yes? I do not think we will be attacked, but if we do run into any pirates on the way back, I hope you will be able to give some aid to my men in the defense."

Elor bowed slightly. "We will aid all we can if it comes to that, Captain. I must warn you not to rely too heavily on our help, though; we are still only trainees in our Order."

Kerrowr grunted. "I know Jedi, little one, and I'm sure any one of you three can be quite as deadly as any ten of my men if you need to be. Padawan or no."

The three Padawans smiled a little nervously to each other; none of them had ever yet been tested in genuine combat. Kerrowr led them to a closed doorway. "Through there are your quarters; you will not be disturbed by my men. Truth to tell, I think they're a little overawed having three of the Order aboard the ship all of a sudden."

Elor and Pel thanked the captain and went through the door. As it hissed shut behind them, Kerrowr turned to Tomet, who had waited. "Something to say, young one?"

Tomet looked up into the imposing Wookie's face and said, "If it's not too much trouble, Captain, I would love to see some of your ship. I've never been on a freighter of this size before."

Kerrowr's face was inscrutable, but his translator's voice replied warmly. "No trouble at all. I'm making my rounds now before we make the jump to hyperspace; you can follow along."

They walked down the corridor, towards the aft of the ship. "Loading a ship like this is fairly simple." Kerrowr explained. "The ship itself is really just a carrying structure for huge cargo modules which come pre-loadedwith cargo. They attach to the bottom of the ship and then are detached at the destination. So other than the passengers we carry on board the ship proper, we really don't have to load cargo at all. I've worked on many ships that us the more conventional onload-offload system, and this is a hell of a lot easier, believe me."

As Kerrowr led Tomet into the vast, noisy engine room, she said, "You mentioned before that you were familiar with the ways of the Jedi. Have you worked with a Jedi Knight before?"

Kerrowr huffed in what may have been the Wookie equivalent of a chuckle. Tomet had spent little time with the Wookies and was finding the hirsute captain difficult to read—an unusual feeling for her. "When I was young—for my race, of course; this would have been when I was in my thirties or forties, perhaps—when I was young, I joined the Republic army to suppress a minor rebellion that had arisen in one of the outer sectors. There was a Jedi Knight who led my unit for some time." That snort again. "Working with him was—an educational experience."

They passed by a group of men who clustered around a section of exposed wiring. Kerrowr stopped to speak to them briefly before continuing his conversation with Tomet. "Some years after the war—before I began my current career—I was down on my luck living in one of Coruscant's lower levels, when I was attacked and very badly hurt by one of the many unpleasant beings you find in such places. A Jedi Master found me afterwards and healed me of my wounds.. I never did learn his name, but I suppose I owe him a debt of gratitude. That was just before I began working on freighters like this one; three or four decades ago, I suppose."

Kerrowr turned the conversation to the topic of his ship. Tomet followed along, sensing that further inquiries into the captain's past would not be welcome.

***

The journey from the Core to the remote Imokor System took almost a week. In that week, Tomet spent most of her time in exploration of the ship, taking advantage of the wide berth the crew gave the three Padawans to wander through various off-limits areas of the freighter. Pel strolled from one end of the ship to the other in what might in a lesser man be described as a nervous pace, when he wasn't in his quarters meditating. Elor, on the other hand, studied.

As the Veracity slid out of hyperspace a light-second or two from Imokor, Tomet jogged through the door to the room she and Elor shared to find her friend sitting on his bed with a holo-projector on, displaying an incandescent sphere—a map of a planet. Breathless, she said, "Still reading, short one? Even Pel gets out of his room sometimes, you know."

Elor tapped at the air in front of him and the map disappeared, replaced by a scrolling text holo. "Exciting as I'm sure the good ship Verity is, I felt that at least one of us should be reasonably familiar with the nature of our mission before we actually try to carry it out." He finally looked up. "And while I've been studiously applying myself to the work at hand, you've been...out for a jog?"

Grinning, Tomet shut the door and began unselfconsciously to change out of her sweat-soaked garments. "Hey, physical fitness is very important to our work, Elor. The body is our working-place, after all." She put on a new shirt, then sat against the wall and started stretching her legs. Through gritted teeth, she asked, "So, responsible boy, what did you learn?"

"Well, since you asked...Imokor, fourth planet of a six-planet distant-binary system, primary sun class G. The planet itself is metal-rich rock-silicate, with a slightly lower than standard gravity and a slightly higher than standard temperature. Surface is only 35% covered in water; small axial tilt corresponds to mild seasons. Coastlines are most habitable, with the inland regions being mostly arid. Two major oceans and a medium-size northern ice cap. There is a world government that operates on a variant of direct democracy with a regulated market economy, but over the past century or three many regions, especially the inland areas, have grown gradually more independent and are now almost separate nations. They call themselves Cantons, most are a sort of feudalistic command economy. The planet is the most heavily industrialized in the sector—not that that's saying much, but they have the facilities to produce destroyer-class warships if they want to, which they don't. Oh, and they have a big space piracy problem. Which is what brings us here."

"And...is there any reason at all that I should spend an entire week memorizing all that?"

"Anal retentiveness and a love of small details?"

"Ah, right. Two traits which I am, of course, famous for."

"I detect sarcasm in the Force. I take it from the aggressive way you're limbering up that you want to spar?"

"You know me too well." She sprang to her feet and grabbed her lightsaber from the bed beside her. "Know a place we can go?"

***

The observation room hummed with the sound of two lightsabers. Elor and Tomet had cleared the chairs and tables in the small round room to the side and were now circling around each other, taking a brief rest from their hour-long exercise. Several times members of the crew had stopped to glance in from the hallway outside, but they always retreated hastily at the sight of two Jedi going at it with sabers ablaze. Elor's orange blade buzzed angrily as Tomet attacked again with her blue.

To most observers, the spar would have been impressive, exciting, a little frightening. To Pel, it was just painful. Firstly, because his weak body had always kept him from taking the kind of joy from lightsaber practice that Tomet and Elor seemed to; but more importantly, because he knew exactly what it was that they were practicing.

Pel knew his friends; he knew how they fought, and he could see the way the spar had changed since it began. At first it was just a warm-up, a gentle back-and-forth to get the blood pumping. Then it became a game, as Elor and Tomet tried to impress each other with grander and grander strokes. Finally, it had transformed into a competition, as it always did. The Padawans threw all their strength into penetrating the other's defenses, the speed of the strokes increased to a blinding pace, and the air filed with the smell of ozone. And now the two were resting, recuperating their strength to begin again.

But as Pel watched them start up again, he knew that this was something different. The faintest of expressions crossed Elor's face as he parried and struck back, his gentle smile subtly changing into something angrier, more menacing. Tomet's lip curled as she jumped into the air to avoid Elor's slash and brought her own blade scything downward towards his head. Teeth gritted, pupils dilated. They began to emit small, involuntary noises; grunts, hisses, growls, all almost unnoticeable to anyone not as familiar with the two as Pel. After several minutes of this, the two seemed to be genuinely after one another's blood; they showed no visible caution for the safety of their opponent, and if one had slipped, the other surely would have died.

Then suddenly and for no apparent reason they both powered down their lightsabers and ceased, bursting into bubbly post-exhilaratory conversation. Their customary smiles returned, and it was almost possible to forget the fierce final minutes of their spar.

Not to Pel, though. He knew too well what the cause of the change had been.

Elor and Tomet came out the door almost at the same time, still talking and laughing. The conversation stopped when Tomet almost ran directly into Pel. "Whoa, Squid. How long have you been there?"

"The entire time, actually," the Kel Dor replied dryly. "Perhaps you would have noticed had you not been so caught up in the heat of the moment." The final four words were almost imperceptibly stressed.

Tomet sighed. Elor said, "I take it you still disapprove of our explorations, then."

"You know I do, Elor. I always have. There is a reason that the Council declared the Grey Jedi heretics and exiled them from the Order. Allowing one's emotions to affect the use of the Force leads to the Dark Side, as you should well know, and it is very dangerous. Especially for a Padawan."

"Not everyone follows the Unified Force as you do, Pel. Master Jinn himself used his emotions to strengthen his bond to the Force. He was famous for it." Elor's voice was quiet, measured.

"He was also a maverick who disobeyed the Council on multiple occasions, if you recall. The Living Force is well and good, but that does not make it right or safe to mix emotions with the Force. It goes against the Code, Elor."

A measure of heat entering her voice, Tomet said, "Elor and I aren't doing anything dangerous, Pel; we're just exploring our abilities. I hope you trust us to do so?"

Pel's nostrils flared; the Kel Dor equivalent of a sigh. "And I hope my trust is well founded." His voice softened. "I care for you both, you know that. I do not question your motives—I simply fear for your safety, my friends."

Elor nodded, looking downwards. "I understand, Pel, and I thank you." Glancing back up, a teasing spark suffused his eyes. "Anyway, with you watching over us, how far wrong could any of us really go?"

Pel's demeanor lightened as well, and the tension diminished. Just as Tomet was opening her mouth to change the subject, a loud siren came over the ship's intercom. The lights turned orange.

"Attention all hands, pirate ships inbound. We are about to be boarded. You know the drill; get to it." Kerworr's basso voice thundered through the ship, icily calm. The three Padawans looked at each other, a similar enforced calm falling over their faces. As one, they turned and ran in the direction of the bridge.