Chapter 11: The Force

Akima was sweating up a storm. She wiped her sleeve across her face to get the sweat out of her eyes and resumed her guard stance while Master Zhar looked on.

She had been a Jedi for a full week now. A week full of increasingly complex historical arguments with Master Dorak, who was thrilled to discover her practical sense for politics, of increasingly frustrating meditation sessions with Master Vandar, and of increasingly demanding lessons with Master Zhar. She still didn't like him, but her sessions getting worked to exhaustion drilling attack patterns and blocks over and over and over and over were increasingly welcome distractions from the hours on end trying to "open herself" and "feel the Force" and somehow pick up a rock with her brain.

So she threw herself into her training with Zhar. The Master had noticed - Akima had no doubt he knew why – and had backed off a little. He may not like her, but the teacher in him couldn't help but teach a willing student that would work as hard and as long as he could push her.

So they'd come to a sort of understanding. He stopped demeaning her, and she dropped the passive-aggressive attitude, and they got to work. Her improvement was rapid, but limited – she couldn't really move on to any of the advanced styles until she could use the Force in a fight, not the unpredictable bouts of "luck" she'd experienced up until now.

"Good. Again! One. Three. Seven. High block. Low block."

Her blade moved with each command, attacking the correct body zone, deflecting each counter-attack from Zhar. As her confidence grew so did their speed, but only to a point. Zhar was always itching to go faster, harder than she could go.

She needed the Force.

Zhar blocked her last attack easily. A single bead of sweat shined on his head and Akima felt a surge of accomplishment. It was nothing to her drenched state, but it was the most effort she'd ever forced out of Zhar before.

"We are finished for the day. Shower and report to Master Vandar."

Akima nodded and carefully replaced the wooden practice sword in its rack along the wall before turning to hit the showers. They were communal and open, though separate from the guys' shower on the other side of the training hall. That wasn't what made Akima uncomfortable; it had been the same in the army. No, the awkward part was that all female species used these showers, and she still wasn't quite comfortable seeing, and being seen by, naked Cathar and Nemoidians, and other species she'd never even heard of before. Not knowing where a sentients eyes were, and wondering if they were staring at you, was a weird feeling. But it was something she'd have to get used to. The Jedi didn't make a big deal out of it, so neither could she.

She turned the water off and wrapped one of the towels laid out for her beforehand by a nervous-looking initiate around herself and wandered over to the laundry. While the Jedi got the luxury of a real water shower, her tunic got the more efficient sonic wash and was ready for her to pull back on.

If her sessions with Zhar were better, she paid for it with her now daily sessions with Vandar. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't reproduce her success from that first day. If anything, she'd actually gotten worse, and it left them both frustrated and irritable. Okay, to be fair, only she acted irritably, but Vandar had to be dead if he wasn't feeling at least a little irritable beneath that unfailingly polite exterior.

Her boots tightened themselves snugly around her feet and she could delay no longer. Time for another torture session beneath the Blba tree before dinner.


Master Vrook paused, fork half-way to his mouth, as his senses tingled. It was the Force. Slowly, careful not to lose his grasp on the thin strand of energy, he lowered the fork back to his plate. It was . . . directing him? Calling him? Yes, it was telling him to move, but no quickly; there was none of the urgency, the immediacy, of the Force's guidance in combat.

Slowly he climbed to his feet and wandered as the Force directed.


Alek licked his lips at the giant mound of steaming, buttered vegetables he'd piled onto his plate. He was starving. He and his friends were entering the final phase of training before their temporary stay on Dantooine came to an end and their Masters picked them up again to continue with their Padawan training on various missions across the galaxy, and Master Zhar was working them relentlessly in the hopes that they'd show some improvement by the time their Masters returned. He seemed to take it as a personal affront that Akima was progressing faster than they were. Oh, she was still years behind, of course, but it was the principle of the thing. Or so he claimed. Alek was pretty sure Zhar would take any excuse to work students into the ground.

Speaking of which . . .

Alek smiled at the sight of Akima, face flat against the table, moaning softly.

Fenton looked somewhat uncomfortable, uncertain how to react. Kanthor was oblivious, his nose in his datapad absorbing the newest reading they'd received, and Desir looked amused.

Alek grinned and slid into his accustomed seat next to her.

"If only Master Zhar could see you now. You know he spent the first twenty minutes of class telling everyone how you were going to catch up to us," he switched his voice to an approximation of Zhar's gravelly voice, "what a hard worker she is, always does the technique right the first time, is never late to class, and always sits up straight and tall like a proper Jedi."

Akima muttered something definitely not in the vocabulary of a proper Jedi and Alek's smile broadened into a grin.

Over the past week the newcomer had gradually started to relax around them. She'd always been interested and engaged, but it had had a deliberate feel to it, like being friends was just another job she intended to succeed at at. Clean your room, check. Do your chores, check. Talk to friends, check.

This was the most relaxed he'd ever seen her. "Oh come on, it can't have been that bad. What did Vandar have you do this time?"

He speared a gigantic chunk of Aalderanian tuber and popped it into his mouth.

"I had to put my head against a Blba tree and talk to it. For two hours. Vandar said something about appreciating it as a lifeform being helpful to opening up to it. All I want to do now is go murder the thing."

Alek took another bite and chewed thoughtfully. "Hey Akima, come with me for a minute, I want to show you something. Come on, it'll be fun."

She looked at him curiously for a moment, then dragged herself to her feet and followed after Alek as he headed towards the exit.


Master Vrook closed the hatch that opened to the roof quietly. He was curious what he would find out here. It was twilight; the last rays of orange were lighting up the grasses of Dantooine like a glorious bonfire at last sputtering out. He pulled his robe a little closer around him as the night breeze blew past.

The Force nudged him on to the far side of the roof. He picked his way carefully, trying not to imagine the comments he'd hear if he slipped on a loose tile, knocked himself out, and missed whatever it was he was supposed to find, inevitably to be found freezing and confused on the academy roof by Master Vandar. He half smiled trying to think of something suitably mysterious to say that would make the misadventure sound mystical instead of remarkably silly.

Somehow, he wasn't surprised to find Master Vandar already there, his tiny robe wrapped tightly around him, flanked by Masters Zhar and Dorak.

"Good of you to join us, it is."

Master Vrook stepped wordlessly up beside the fellow Masters and looked out over the Academy he had given so much of himself to. Part of him wanted to snicker at the sight they made, four "wizened" old Jedi Masters standing on the roof with no idea why they were there, but only a small part of him. A much bigger part rejoiced in the shared moment with these, his fellow Jedi.

They might not know their purpose, but in a sense, they all knew why they were here, now. The Force willed it. Yes, and they each had heard it, and they each had answered. They might disagree, but in the end they stood together with one purpose, one ambition, one guiding Master.

He glanced at each of them in turn, seeing their small nods of respect and understanding. In moments like these no words were necessary, and his heart was full as he stood alongside his brothers and waiting to see what the Force would show them.


"Seriously Alek? Outside, in the dark, alone? If I didn't know better, I'd say you'd given up on Meetra after all."

"Don't be silly, Akima. Meetra's the one for me."

Akima eyed him speculatively, a little hesitant. What was he playing at here? She still didn't quite have him figured out.

Alek finally came to a stop beneath the same Blba tree who's life she had threatened earlier, and turned to face her. She wasn't sure about this. She felt odd, uncertain, vulnerable in a way that had nothing to do with Alek. It was like she was wading into a murky lake – she knew the bottom would drop out, but not when, not where. It only felt . . . close. It felt like something was about to happen..

Alek leaned against the tree, looking out over the plain as twilight eased into evening and clouds, almost black on a deep blue sky, rolled on.

Akima sat next to him in her accustomed meditation spot, but turned to face the plains as well.

"I don't know, I think I like your need-to-be-alone Blba tree better than this one. It's more . . . private there. Meetra will never know."

Akima shook herself. It was a sign of how off-balance she felt that she defaulted to being aggressively suggestive. That time, that desperate need to make the first move, to attack, to stay in control of the conversation and what followed, that part of her life was long gone. Wasn't it?

Bastila's words floated through her mind. Afraid. Afraid to trust, afraid to let go. No, it wasn't true. The girl was wrong, that was all. She'd . . . she'd keep working with Master Vandar. They'd have a breakthrough, they'd . . .

She sighed and looked down at the fists clenched in her lap.

They sat quietly for a few moments as evening turned to night.


Four figures stood on the roof, wrapped even more closely in the Force than the deep brown robes that turned their faces to shadow. Submerged as they were in the Force, they watched and listened as if standing at the sides of their students far below. Closer, even. They heard every breath, felt every heartbeat.

Master Zhar began to tighten a leg muscle, but relaxed it at the millimeter twitch of Vandar's head. No words were necessary; they were here to watch, not interfere.


"I know this has been hard on you, Akima."

She frowned. Where was he going with this?

"You're so quick to pick up on things. I know you've had a . . ." he hesitated for a moment, " . . . a hard life, and that I don't know the hundredth part of it. I want to help you. And the only way I can think of to do that is to show you how I discovered the Force."

He turned and smiled at her, though she could hardly see him in the dark. The feeling was getting stronger. Was it . . . ominous? Just anticipation?

"What's your favorite thing in the universe?"

Akima focused on the question, the sound of Alek's voice, to escape that shifting, crumbling feeling growing ever stronger inside of her.

"Spaceships."

"Really? Out of everything in the galaxy and you pick public transportation?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

Alek was completely lost in the darkness now; she spoke with his voice that emerged from somewhere in the night. "Why?"

She felt like she was stretched too thin, that any moment, at just a stray puff of breeze, she would rip apart. She talked, not even thinking about the words before they came out, trying not to think at all, to stave off the oncoming disaster.

"Spaceships are freedom, control of your own life, your own destiny."

"think about that. That's what the Force is, your own personal spaceship. Don't tell Vandar, but I snuck out there today and watched you meditate for a while. Not to be creepy, mind you. But when I saw you, you were just like I was, trying to force it, trying to mash it into a little box that's not too big to control, to understand. But that's wrong, Akima. The Force is not something to be scared of. The Force is your own personal spaceship the size of the whole galaxy. The Force will keep you safe."

The clouds rolled back and revealed the clearest night sky Akima had ever seen, an ocean of tiny lights.

And in that moment, it happened.

Akima tore into a thousand pieces and felt the Force swarm in, an ocean breaking through a puny dam, a storm of power she couldn't' control, as vast as the galaxy with her a tiny pinprick being sucked under, smothered, crushed into the empty nothingness she'd sworn she'd never be again.

Alek's hand filled hers and in an instant she could feel him in a way she'd never experienced before. He wasn't Alek, not exactly. He wasn't even a man, but more of a . . . a presence, a single light like the trillions of others that drowned her, but brighter, stronger, from his proximity.

"I am here, Akima. Right now, in this spot in the whole galaxy, you are safe. I won't let it swallow you."

Tears streamed down her face from eyes that saw, but did not see the plains before her: tears of gratitude. She clung to his light desperately, a drowning swimmer that by a miracle finds a single floating piece of debris, but solid, immoveable . . . safe.

She never knew how long she clung to that light while she tried to grasp, to understand, that mighty expanse of emptiness all around her. There was no ground, no solid within that entire galaxy, and she held on in the sure knowledge that if she let go, even for a split second, she would be falling forever,

Gradually her panic began to fade and she could make out whispered assurances from Alek that it was okay, that she was safe, but whether or not he spoke aloud she wasn't sure.

Slowly she forced herself to loosen her grip on her tiny island of light. She reached out with a toe, though she had none, from her island to the blackness, a baby Gri'itch poking one of its six legs gingerly into the water for the first time.

It felt warm. It felt safe.

She let go.

Her body clenched, tightened for the fall, the hurt, but it never came. Instead she floated. She tried to swim, to move forward, but she was stuck, helpless, sinking!

Alek was there again, his island instantly within reach, and she clung to it, shuddering, afraid.

It's okay, Akima. Don't force it, don't push. Don't make the force move, let it move you.

She let go again and the light slid away, out of reach, but close, ready to return in a moment. Once again she floated in the black sea, but this time, this time she did not push, did not pull. She didn't fight.

And them she felt something stir, like a giant creature beneath the water, sensed only through the ripples its passage left on the surface. It should have terrified her, but for a single moment she felt it. This was its ocean, and she would come to no harm here.

She was safe here.

She threw back her head and laughed with such joy and relief it was almost a sob, and she zoomed off into the night, leaving Alek's light scrambling to catch up.

Akima soared past lights she recognized now, the contented purring of Kath Hound pups snuggled withing their mother's warm fur, the tiny pinpricks of insects marching as one in complete unity. She looked up and saw the infinite stars and charged out to meet them.

She could fly. She could fly.

At last, at long last, she was free. Free, and at home.


Master Vrook let out the breath he'd been holding for the last hour as the vision released him at last. He could hear the others stirring as well. What he had just seen, what he had just felt . . .

The others had seen it too, he was sure.

"By the Force," whispered Master Zhar in a hoarse voice. "That thing under the water, that presence so much deeper . . ."

"The consciousness of the Force, it was. Felt it once before, I have. Long ago."

The four Masters watched, distantly now, seeing with two pairs of eyes. One pair watched the two motionless bodies, still linked hand in hand in the connection that had proved so vital in the moment of need. The other watched as Akima's consciousness wandered with the mad, blazing energy of a child's awe, while Alek was pulled in her wake, seeing the Force again as if for the first time.

"This . . . connection they have formed. It is strong."

"So it is, Master Vrook. It's future, we cannot tell. In the will of the Force, we must trust."

"As you say, Master Vandar. As you say."

The four Masters watched on into the night as the newest Jedi on Dantooine reveled in the Force.