Chapter Ten

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One I've not met,

Untutored, you burn

With a knowledge of Power

And a hunger to learn.

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Use Force for knowledge

And for defense.

Yet against the Dark Agent,

Defense is pretense.

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Luke ate his dinner wordlessly, mechanically, only because he knew he had to eat. Rupert joined him, also eating in silence, partly out of respect for his teacher's mood, mostly because he didn't have anything to say himself. When they were finished, the dishes were washed without talking.

Rupert had weirded-out when they first landed, and Luke had had to bring him back. Since then, Rupert had been blocking, and though Luke had tried to teach him how to bring himself back, so far it had been all talk. The boy was afraid to let go, and the longer he wore himself out trying to block, the harder it would be to bring him back in the end.

As he dried the last dish, Luke turned to his student and said tiredly, "We'll work with the naros tonight. Go outside and see if you can—" He stopped suddenly. His brows furrowed.

"Luke? What is it?"

"It's Brenna," he said. "She's here."

"Here?" Rupert asked. "How could she know where we are?"

"It's not the 'how' that concerns me half as much as the 'why.' She's very close."

From the door, a voice they both recognized said, "Very close, indeed. Hello, Father. May I come in?"

Luke turned around slowly. He'd had no idea she was this close.

Brenna smiled. Without waiting for an answer, she ducked through the doorway and entered the hut. She glanced around the interior. "So this is the famous house of Yoda I heard about in all those stories. Small—but then it would be, wouldn't it?"

"Brenna..." Luke said.

"You came to see me. I thought it only fair to return the favor. Good evening, Rupert. Do you have anything to eat? I'm starving."

"We just finished," Luke said, "I was just about to work with Rupert on some exercises. And around here we don't barge in without permission."

Brenna raised her eyebrows at her father. "Do forgive me, but I seem to recall your entering my quarters without permission back on Croyus Four. However, my timing does seem to be a bit off, and I wouldn't want to intrude where I'm not welcome, especially if you've already eaten. I'll wait by my ship, the Millennium Falcon. I believe you'll recognize her. Rupert, I really must thank you. She's a delightful little runner, much faster than I expected. I parked her on the edge of a bog to the north of here. I'm sure you can figure out where. It was the only suitable landing spot I could find for a ship that size. Anyway, that's where you'll find me."

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Luke found her, exactly where she said she would be. She was sitting on the gangplank to the Falcon, elbows on her knees, chin on her hands, eyes closed. She seemed unaware of either Luke or the large snake that was slithering towards her, until the snake rubbed against her and she brushed it idly away. There seemed to be a weariness about her. But before the impression could fully register, she looked up suddenly, as if sensing Luke's presence, though he couldn't feel any movement in the Force that would indicate she was drawing on it. The smile appeared again, covering whatever it was he had almost seen.

"I was beginning to think," she said, rising, "that I wasn't welcome."

"Why are you here?" Luke asked. "What is it that you want?"

"I want the same thing I've always wanted. I want to be instructed in the Force, and I want you to be my teacher."

"I thought you were already trained."

"Not entirely. There are still...some gaps in my education. Etan Lippa is many things, but he is not the teacher that you are."

"I can only teach you about the Force. I can't make you a Jedi."

"I know that." She laughed. "But I'm not exactly the Jedi-type, am I?"

"And what exactly are you, as opposed to the Jedi-type?"

"I am...myself, Father, a free agent. The Jedi are a community. That's their greatest strength, and why Etan Lippa had to separate them before he could destroy them."

"We're not all destroyed yet," Luke told her.

"No," Brenna agreed. "But when he goes after you and Rupert, he'll make sure you're separated first."

"Like you did?"

"I didn't go after you, you came after me, remember? And if you'll notice, you and Rupert are still alive."

"I felt Rupert's pain."

Brenna smiled. "Yes…But he is alive, isn't he? And he doesn't look too much the worse for wear, does he? There was no other way out for Rupert, not with Etan so nearby. I saw to it that there would be no lasting effects."

"You erased his memory."

"Better his memory than his life."

"I notice that you didn't include yourself in either group, Lippa's or mine. Which side are you on?"

Brenna raised her eyebrows. "Neither. I side with myself. That's my strength. If there's one thing I've learned from you, it's autonomy. Independence. Unfortunately, even I run into problems I can't solve entirely on my own. So, surprising as it may seem, Father, I need your help. I can't force you to accept me as a Jedi, but I can force you to accept me as your daughter. You owe it to me to help me."

"Help you…to do what?"

"To match Etan Lippa's strength with my own. I won't be his pawn, and right now I'm not in a position where I can challenge him."

Luke held out his arms and took a step towards her. "Brenna, stay here, with me and Rupert. Lippa won't find you. You'll be safe, here."

But she drew back as he came nearer, putting a strut between them. "Don't...touch me, Father."

"You didn't used to be afraid of me."

"I'm not afraid of you. Nor did I come here to hide from Etan Lippa. But I can't go back to what I was. Too much has happened. I'm not a child any more, and I have no desire to return to the prison you want to put me in. Or the one Etan wants to put me in. Nor do I want to pretend that there's an affection between us when we both know there isn't."

"There could be."

"I doubt it. At any rate, my answer is no. You taught me that I can say 'yes' or 'no,' and I'm saying 'no.' "

Luke's arms dropped to his side and he tried a different tack. "If you want me to help you, I need to know more than you've given me."

"I've told you as much as I can. The rest will come in due time."

"We have time."

Brenna laughed. "Not as much as you think, but I can't explain any more than that right now. All I require at the moment is an answer to my question: will you teach me?"

"May I have the night to consider it?"

"You'll find me here at sunrise."

Luke nodded, already knowing what his answer had to be.

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"You can't do it, Luke."

"I can't not do it."

"I know she's your daughter, but—"

"What are you suggesting I do, Rupert? Send her back to Croyus Four? Battle her with lightsabers until one of us is dead?"

"I don't know," Rupert answered. "I don't know what to tell you, except that she's..."

"Dangerous?" Luke finished.

"Yes," Rupert said. "You, of all people, should be able to sense that."

"If she's dangerous, it's because I've allowed her to become so. Maybe I can undo some of the damage that I've done."

"Don't you see, Luke? She's only trying to increase her strength, to use whatever you give her to her own advantage."

"I know that." Luke said quietly.

"Then for Deity's sake, why—"

"Because the truth is that I can't teach her, Rupert. Anything I have to offer, she can learn on her own, or from Etan Lippa. She's already proven that. But the longer I can keep her here, the better my chances are of turning her back from the Dark path." He made a sound that might have been a laugh if Rupert hadn't known better. "The day she discovers I don't have anything for her will be her last one here...unless I can find some way to bring her back before then."

"And if you can't?"

"Then one of us is dead, Rupert. I can't let her go back to Lippa, and I don't think she'll take kindly to an enforced stay."

The next morning, Luke found Brenna by her ship, dressed in athletic gear. Her hair was pinned up in a practical bun, and she was just finishing her breakfast of travel rations heated in a portable cooker. She seemed...stronger, somehow, than she had the previous evening, and she looked up as soon as Luke entered the camp.

"Good morning, Father," she said, smiling that same impenetrable smile. "You're right on time." She indicated the rock across from her for Luke to sit down. "I'd offer you some of my breakfast, but as you can see, I've just finished."

"I'm not hungry," Luke said.

"I didn't think you were. Do you have an answer for me?"

"Yes," he said.

"Is that your answer to whether or not you'll train me, or your answer to whether or not you have an answer?"

"Both."

"I'm delighted. Shall we get started? Oh, there is one more thing I forgot to mention." She put her hand against her chest. "During the day, I will be your most devoted student." Her hand dropped. "The nights, however, are my own."

"That's a strange request."

"It's not a request. It's a requirement. Otherwise, I'll get in my ship right now, and you'll never see me again. So is it agreed?"

"Agreed." Luke stood up, crossed the step to her, and put his hands on her shoulders. "Brenna—"

"Must you do that?" Brenna asked in an annoyed tone. "I assure you, Father, it does not make me feel any closer to you. Nor, I suspect, does it make you feel any closer to me. So unless it's required as part of your training procedures, I'd rather you didn't."

Luke let his hands drop. "I just wanted to—"

"To seal our agreement? Your word is enough for me. Mine should be enough for you. Of course, we could seal it with a kiss, but I am your daughter, and I don't think even you are that perverse."

The muscles in Luke's jaw tightened. "That's not how I meant it."

"Maybe not. But it is a little late for affection, isn't it?"

"I do love you, Bren."

She smiled. "Interesting paradox, isn't it? Loving someone you know to be evil. Well, Father, it is only one paradox of many. Here's another one for you: perhaps I have as much to teach you, as you have to teach me."

"Is that what occupies your thoughts these days, paradoxes?"

"I'll tell you what's been occupying my thoughts," Brenna said. "I've been thinking about the Battle of Endor. Imperials who survived that battle have sworn that both Darth Vader and the Emperor were present on Death Star Two during the fighting. A few other sources say that the Emperor was actually expecting the attack. So given all that, I find it hard to believe that the Rebel Alliance could have won. But I actually met an Imperial shuttle pilot who says that you were there, too, as Vader's prisoner. If the Emperor and Vader were out of commission, then I'd say, maybe. So what I've been thinking is that somehow you managed to neutralize both Vader and the Emperor and then escape the Death Star Two before it was destroyed. I'd really like to know how you did it."

Luke smiled. "I'm sure the answer to that would surprise you. I think I'll save it for a later time."

Brenna sighed. "As you wish. I suppose it would be too much to expect the answer to that right away. But one of these days, Father, I hope you will tell me."

"One of these days," Luke replied, "I hope I can tell you."

"Well," Brenna said. "Let's get started, shall we? What's first on the agenda?"

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Luke drew the attention of his two students to a trail leading off from the bog. "It begins there. After that, you're on your own. I've marked it with the Force only. Last one back does the cooking and the washing for tonight's supper."

Brenna smiled. To Rupert, she said, "I hope you enjoy doing the chores I used to do as a child."

"Don't overestimate yourself," Luke warned. "The course isn't as easy as you seem to think it will be. Are you both ready?"

Rupert nodded.

"Give the word," Brenna said.

"Go," Luke said.

Rupert sprinted for the lead and was surprised that Brenna didn't try to do the same. He glanced backwards and saw that she was jogging along leisurely. When the path narrowed, he saw why. The going became rough, and in no time Brenna caught up with him by the sheer virtue of the fact that he had to slow down to keep from running into limbs.

So, he reflected, he had wasted some of his energy whereas she had conserved hers.

She made her way right behind him until suddenly Rupert heard her stop. Rupert stopped too, to look. She smiled at him, then headed off the path into swamp-jungle.

"Where are you going?" Rupert asked.

"See you at the end," she said, and disappeared.

Rupert considered following her, but he was sure that the trail led straight ahead. He spared one more glance in the direction Brenna had gone, then went straight ahead, down the main trail.

Brenna finished the course with a speed that indicated to Luke that she hadn't made any mistakes.

"Where's Rupert?" Luke asked.

Brenna shrugged. "He was with me when we started." She helped herself to a drink of water from her canteen, then ran through some breathing and cool-down exercises. Luke thought he detected a hint of a smile before she turned away.

Her attitude of non-concern caused Luke to worry. He didn't sense that anything was wrong, but given the way things were going, he wasn't sure he could trust any of his senses, either, not even his sixth sense. All he was sure of was that Brenna and Rupert had started the course together, and only Brenna had finished...

He caught the direction his thoughts were headed and stopped himself. Just what was he accusing Brenna of? All she had done was finish the course first.

On the other hand, she was the same woman that had reopened Croyus Four.

His daughter.

Luke didn't relax until Rupert finally emerged from the trail, out of breath. "I didn't realize you were going to throw in some false leads," he said.

"I didn't," Luke replied. They both turned to look at Brenna.

"You should have," Brenna said. "The course you laid out was ridiculously easy. And you—" she looked at Rupert. "You should have known better. You weren't using all of your resources. This swamp may be a mud-hole, but it's teeming with life. If you're really a creature-empath, you should have been checking with any and every life-form to verify whether my father had, indeed, passed that way or not."

Rupert looked at Brenna in sudden comprehension. "You made a false trail!" he realized.

"And you," Luke said sternly to Brenna, "need to learn when not to interfere. I set this course the way I thought was best. I'm the instructor here, not you."

Brenna was unruffled. "My apologies," she said. "When you said it was to be a contest, I assumed we were to use every resource at our disposal. Are you saying, then, that this was not a contest? And if the point was not to be resourceful, I am at a loss as to what the point was."

Rupert put a hand on Luke's shoulder. "She's right," he said between gulps of air. "I should have checked. I just didn't think of it." To Brenna, he said, "Congratulations. You were most resourceful. Consider the dinner cooked and the dishes washed."

Brenna's smile was almost gracious. "Thank you. However, when I arrived, I did not intend to be any more of a burden than was necessary. I brought my own rations. I shall endeavor, at least, not to increase your work load."

"You're not going to eat with us?" Luke asked.

"Only if you require it, and only during the day, per our agreement. If you don't mind, Father, social graces are not my forte. It must come from being raised on an isolated desert world. So unless you intend to have a survival exercise in native foraging, I would prefer to stick to my nutritionally complete, balanced meal-rations." She smiled and brushed her hands off against each other. "So," she said, "what's next?"

"I think," Luke replied, "that it's time for a rest."

"Well," said Brenna. "Rupert certainly needs one. As for me, I was wondering if you wouldn't mind allowing me access to some reading materials. I understand that your teacher Yoda kept a rather extensive library on the history of the Jedi."

Luke studied her. "How did you know about that?"

She shrugged. "One of your stories?"

"I see. Well, I guess there's no reason to say no—provided, of course, you treat Yoda's books with respect."

"Of course," she smiled.

When she had gone, Luke turned to his other student. "I never told her about the library."

"Etan Lippa knew about it, didn't he? Perhaps he told her, and she just forgot."

"Maybe. But however she knows about it, I think she's looking for something, though I can't imagine what." He stopped himself, then said, "Yes, I can, too. Rupert, I want you to go to the library and tell her I changed my mind."

"Changed your mind?"

"Yes. Tell her...I decided to have you show her the marathon path instead. Tell her I want both of you to run it tomorrow, and if she doesn't know it like the back of her hand, she's liable to end up in a patch of quick-sand."

"All right."

"Oh, and Rupert—"

"Yes?"

"She was right about one thing: you should have used all of your resources."

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The sticks were dipped in "sticky juice." That was the name Yoda had given the stuff, and Luke saw no reason to change the moniker. The thick liquid was made by cutting a particular marsh plant into small pieces and then boiling them in water, until the pieces yielded their liquid which mixed with the water to make a foul-smelling, sticky substance. When coated onto a stick about the size of an ignited lightsaber, sticky juice had the dual benefit of simulating the magnetic attraction that two lightsabers would have for each other in an actual dual, and marking the opponent who came into contact with the stuff.

Rupert had numerous marks of sticky juice on him already. Since the current bout began, he had added one across his left thigh, one on his right shoulder, and one on the right side of his head. That last one was going to be especially difficult to wash out, since it was in his hair as well as on his cheek.

Brenna had no sticky juice on her except for a little bit on her hands, where the stuff had run down her stick.

"Lightsabers against seekers, and sticks against people," Brenna said, casually parrying one of Rupert's attacks. "When do we get to go against each other with lightsabers?"

"When I'm sure that you're both ready," Luke replied, frowning at the way Rupert had expended most of the energy needed to pull the sticks apart whereas Brenna had expended minimal energy. "Practicing with lightsabers requires precise control. Otherwise one of you might lose a limb."

"Can't I at least fence you with sticks?" Brenna asked.

"No," Luke replied. "Not yet, anyway. You just missed a riposte there."

"Actually, I've missed three since this bout began. I figured Rupert can use the practice."

"I didn't tell you to hold back."

"Fine," Brenna said with a shrug. She initiated an attack, which Rupert moved to parry, but the attack was a feint, intended to draw him out, and she avoided the parry with a coupé over his stick. Not finding Brenna in his front line, Rupert hastily swatted back in the opposite direction, but Brenna disengaged underneath his stick and struck him squarely on his chest with the point of hers. "That's four," she said, and pulled her stick back as she pulled her body back to her guard position. She began another attack almost immediately, aiming for the lower part of Rupert's front forward leg, drawing another parry from Rupert, then switched her attack to his arm. This time Rupert anticipated the feint and brought his stick up to meet it. Brenna disengaged and went low again to whack Rupert's leg with the side of her stick. "Five," she said, "End bout."

"New bout," Luke said, and reset the score. "Zero—zero."

Brenna won the next bout, and the next, with even less difficulty than she had won the previous bouts. Rupert's frustration at his inability to score a touch had been growing since the exercise began, making his attacks and parries even less controlled. But as Brenna readied a new attack, something inside Rupert finally snapped. Nothing he'd done so far had worked, so he decided to try something else. Instead of parrying her attack, he stepped to the side and avoided contact with her stick. Surprised at finding nothing but air at the point of her stick, Brenna changed the thrusting attack to a remis cut, but at the same time, the point of Rupert's stick found her midriff in a stop-thrust, and they both struck each other simultaneously.

"Halt!" Luke said.

Brenna looked at the sticky mark on her jumpsuit in surprise, then smiled. "Congratulations, Rupert," she said. "I didn't think you had it in you."

"And that," Luke said, "is the point of today's lesson." He turned to the student on his left. "Rupert, you were fencing against a superior opponent, and you still scored a touch. Lippa trained her well. Don't feel bad about losing. Feel good about that last touch." He turned to the student on his right, Brenna. "Rupert scored that touch because of your overconfidence. If these had been lightsabers instead of sticks, you'd both be dead."

"Thank you, Father," Brenna said. "I'll remember that. But I still won the bout."

"Score doesn't really count for anything. When you're battling with lightsabers, it's not a question of who has the most points, but who survives. Now go get cleaned up, both of you. We're through for today."

Brenna tossed her stick back into the pot of sticky juice, looked down at her hands, which were tacky from the run-off, and she headed back towards the Falcon and her shower. Rupert lingered a moment.

"Yes, Rue?" Luke asked.

"How come you won't fight her? With sticks, I mean? If you really want to teach her a lesson about overconfidence…"

Luke ran a hand through his gray hair. "Brenna is up to something. I don't know what. Until I find out, I don't want to play my only trump card. She's good. Very good. But I need to be better. By watching her technique with you, I might be able to learn something that would help me later, whereas if I don't fence her, she won't have that same opportunity."

"Can you beat her?"

"I don't know, Rupert. Right now…I doubt it."

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"Mind if I join you?" Rupert asked, poking his head through the library door.

"Why should I mind?" Brenna answered, without looking up from the book she was reading. "Unless, of course, my father sent you to spy on me."

"Why would he do that?" Rupert asked.

"Because he doesn't trust me. That's all right. It isn't necessary that he trust me." Brenna looked up and waved a hand to invite him to the other cushion. "Have a seat. It's certainly more comfortable than stooping the whole time." She went back to her reading.

Rupert sat down and let his eyes roam about the room. "There certainly are a lot of old-style books here. If he'd used a computer, it wouldn't take up all this space."

Brenna looked up again. "Do you intend to constantly interrupt me, or may I continue with my reading?"

"Sorry," Rupert mumbled. He stood up and pretended to read the titles on the shelf.

Brenna sighed, and closed her book. "Let me make your job easier," she said. "There are over eight hundred years' worth of journals in this room, kept by the Jedi-master Yoda. I intend to read every last word written here, to learn whatever I can about every Jedi he ever trained. Who knows? If he was really the seer he was supposed to be, he may even have written about you and me."

"Why do you need to know all that?"

She smiled. "Ah, Rupert. Haven't you ever heard the expression, 'Knowledge is Power'? I had to bargain with Etan to learn the least little thing, and here my father is, handing all of it to me on a silver platter. Most of it, anyway—" she opened the book again to show a section where several pages had been neatly torn off at the spine. "There seem to be some gaps in the knowledge my father is willing to share with me. Funny how it's torn off right here where Yoda starts writing about creature-empaths. I hope you at least know what's on the missing pages. I don't suppose you'd care to share that with me?"

Rupert kept silent. Luke had ordered him not to tell her, and he couldn't help but agree with the reasons.

Brenna closed the book again. "I didn't think you would. I'll just have to go on what little I learned from Etan, and my own observations."

"What sort of…observations?"

"Well, for one thing, I didn't know creature-empaths were so afraid all the time. Until I meet one who contradicts that, or until I find any evidence to the contrary, I'll just have to assume that it's true of all creature-empaths. Of course, since you're the only one left, I guess it's a moot point, anyway."

"Afraid?"

Brenna made a noise of exasperation at Rupert's apparent slowness at catching on and nodded. "You're afraid of the beast-level, the 'Chasm' I believe is what it's referred to. That's why you can't control even the simplest of animals, why you're still a vegetarian, why I beat you at every contest my father sets for us. You're afraid that if you descend to that level, you won't be able to climb back out. You're afraid that you'll like it too much down there."

Rupert started. She had hit the target exactly on the mark.

"Well," she smiled, "the interesting thing is, you'll have to go down into the Chasm if you're to be fully-trained, and I look forward to being there when it happens."

"And if I do pull back up?"

She shrugged. "Then you'll be the Jedi you've always wanted to be." She went back to her reading.

"Why are you here? Are you planning to kill us?"

Brenna turned the page, hardly paying any attention to him. "If that was my plan, you'd be dead. Or maybe we'd both be, if you used that stop-thrust of yours in a real battle. It's a silly, wasteful move. It only works if you know your opponent is going to miss, or if you're willing to sacrifice yourself in order to dispatch your opponent."

"Why are you here, Brenna?"

"I'm here," she said tonelessly, "to catch up on my reading. Now, if you don't mind…"

Rupert fell silent. She was looking for something, just as Luke had suspected. But whatever it was, it had nothing to do with creature-empathy.