Hey, sorry for the long delay between updates. Things have been a little rough. I'm hoping that things have been resolved and that I'll be able to update more regularly again. Thanks for sticking it out with me. As ever, I'd love to hear your thoughts on the story: things you liked, things you disliked, things you'd like to see, etc. Thanks you!

Chapter 14: Initiation pt. 2

Akima slowly slipped out of the trance, though she wasn't sure if it was she letting go of the Force or the Force letting go of her. It was done. She couldn't quite believe it, but she'd done everything in the instructions. It had taken nearly a week, stopping only to eat and sleep, though she hadn't done much of either. The Force had sustained her.

To a point.

She was pale, exhausted, and weak. But it was done.

The silver tube slowly floated down into her trembling hand and she pulled off the charging cable, giving the weapon its initial charge. This was no longer a bunch of parts thrown together - it had become something so much more. It was a lightsaber. It was her lightsaber, hers in a fundamental, unique way that could never come from simply buying or being given something. It was a part of her now. And now it was time to see if it worked.

She'd heard horror stories of lightsabers even slightly out of alignment. The apprentices were awash with rumors, some accurate, some bizarre. Akima had missed most of that, of course, but Alek and the others had felt it was their solemn duty to ensure that she had the opportunity to experience that important part of becoming a Jedi, and regaled her with stories she was half sure they'd made up on the spot. Well, either it would blow up or it wouldn't. So far, trusting in herself had turned out well, so she didn't see any reason to stop now.

Akima pressed the button.

The icy blue blade snap-hissed to life with the weapon's unique sound before settling into a distinct background hum of power. The blade was a startlingly vivid blue, though the very center of the beam seemed to glow a solid white. It gave off no heat as it hummed, nor did it lose any power as the plasma looped back in on itself within the blades field. As Master Zhar had explained it, the weapon only gave off heat and energy when it was actually cutting something. It was theoretically possible to use up all the power in the incredibly efficient system, but you'd have to do a lot of cutting before that ever happened. In fact, she'd never even heard of it happening to anyone, and even if it did, a simple recharge fixed it right up. Overall, it was an incredible mix of technology and the Force.

And it was hers.

It was still hard to believe. She waved it around for a few moments, careful, listening to its hum and getting the feel for the balance, for the gyroscopic effect that was unique to every lightsaber. Though she'd never handled a lightsaber quite like hers, it felt easier somehow, like it was right in her hands. She extinguished it and clipped it to her belt, and it hit her again - I might actually, truly get to be a Jedi. It might really happen. Okay, stay focused. Only one more test to go.

…

Master Zhar inspected the lightsaber closely, turning it back and forth under the lights of the Council Chamber. Akima stood calmly, unaffected by his attempt at intimidation. In fact, she had to resist a smile. She had been inspected with farm more scrutiny by slavers who would as soon toss her to the wolves as look at her, if there were some credits in it for them. That, and the fact that she felt confident in her work, helped her stand firm.

Zhar, too, seemed satisfied. Or maybe he just couldn't find anything to legitimately criticize. Either way, Master Zhar nodded and ignited the blade. The weapon hissed to life. He swung it carefully, gauging its balance. At last he nodded again, more firmly this time, deactivated the weapon, and handed it back to her.

"It is satisfactory." He took a long look through the Council Chambers, as if looking for any last-minute reasons to fail her. He sighed, shook his head, and gave in. "You have successfully completed the second task. The third and final task is to confront the Dark Side of the Force, both to help you recognize it, and to learn that it can be overcome. To accomplish this, you will travel to the coordinates appointed and meditate. You will then spend the night there and return. Now head to the quartermaster and get whatever equipment you feel is necessary. You leave at first light."

He pulled a datapad from his tunic and handed it to her, nodded, and turned to walk away.

Akima flipped the power switch and scanned the datapad as the target location information rolled down the screen. The place was about fifty clicks away, across some fairly rough terrain. There didn't seem to be much out there, certainly nothing to indicate why she would be sent out there for her third trial.

Well. At least she had some sort of idea of what she was up against now. No clue about what would happen when she got there, but still. Traveling through rough terrain? She had been scout. No problem.

She tried not to think too hard on the fact that the traveling wasn't going to be the hard part of the test.

Akima slipped the datapad into her pocket and headed out into the hallway towards the quartermaster's office. The hallways, as always, were a strange mixture of business and tranquility as Padawans, Jedi Knights, and even the occasional Jedi Master passed by on a whole host of errands, bearing news and rumors from across the galaxy. Yet for all of that there was no rush, no frantic haste.

She cut through them easily and stepped into the office where a Mon Calamari looked up from a computer terminal. "Ah, another young Jedi, here to be outfitted for adventures looking for trouble out on the Rim, perhaps?"

Akima smiled at his warmness, but shook her head. Not yet, Master Chargus. I'm afraid I'm just here for an overnight campout. Is something happening out there?"

The big mon cal smiled. "Nothing to worry yourself over." He scrutinized his computer monitor for a moment. "Ah, I believe I have the perfect thing for you, if you'll follow me."

The Jedi Master rose and led her through a side door and into a massive storage room. Shelf after shelf of every kind of equipment Akima could imagine was set outing neat, labeled rows. The Jedi strode through the rows confidently, pausing only to pick up two items. "There, I believe that should do it."

He held up a utility belt and knapsack. "These should serve you well. This is a standard issue utility belt with a variety of things you will find useful. A comlink, several emergency rations, a standard power pack, and more. And this is a light field pack. More rations, a small field tent, and a heavy jacket. Between those two, you should be well on your way, young one."

Akima accepted the items gratefully, still somewhat surprised at how open and easy it all was. It was a far cry from the (strangely inconsistent) stinginess of the military, and not even in the same galaxy as the hard-scrabble existence of most of the galaxy.

Master Chargus smiled and bowed. "May the Force be with you, young one."

…

Akima slid into the cafeteria bench, her platter heaped high with steamed vegetables, next to Alek and the others. Alek raised an eyebrow at Akima's mound of food. "Hungry?" Akima speared a chunk of white plant she didn't recognize with her fork.

"This is more of a preventive measure. I'm going out into the field tomorrow for a campout."

Alek nodded thoughtfully. "I take it your lightsaber didn't blow up then."

Akima nodded as she swallowed.

"May I see it?"

She unclipped it from her new utility belt and placed it gently on the table. She drew on all of her experience to make it as casual as possible. Alec's grin suggested she might not have totally succeeded. At least he had the grace not to say anything as he picked it up and examined it, his face the picture of concentration.

Exaggerated contemplation.

"Well, it looks like it wouldn't blow up the first time you turned it on, I suppose."

"The second time, though," chipped in Desir, "now that's a different story."

"Yeah," said Fenton with a grin, "your focusing crystal seems alright, but that flux capacitor is all wrong, it could give out on you."

Kanthor frowned. "It looks alright to me . . ."

Akima punched Alec on the arm and snatched back her lightsaber, clipping it to her belt. "That's because it is fine, Kanthor, despite what these grinning druk-heads say.

Still, she smiled. Teasing was a good sign. It meant she was officially part of the group. But flux capacitor? That was the best he could come up with?

…

Akima stood outside looking up at the stars in the early autumn evening. She'd asked Alek to meet her out here, the same spot where she'd discovered the Force with him, near his favorite tree.

The breeze played with the loose strands of her hair as it blew in across the fields. The crunching of fallen Blba leaves announced Alek's rival as he came to stand beside her. They stood there quietly for a few moments, thinking, and enjoying each others' company. Alek was contemplative, far from the usual boisterous self that he was in front of the others.

"So, what's on your mind?"

"Tomorrow's trial. I'm just . . . worried, I guess. All the Masters tell us over and over to be careful of the Dark Side, watch out for the Dark Side, beware the Dark Side, but they never tell us what the Dark Side is. I mean, how can the Force have a dark side? I haven't felt anything like that. Have you?"

Alek didn't answer immediately and Akima glanced over at him in surprise. He looked troubled - eyes narrowed, jaw tightened, fists clenched behind his back, grasping the deep brown fabric of his Jedi robe.

After several long moments he broke the silence. "I have." He sounded older, somehow, his cheery enthusiasm drained away. "The Dark Side is real. I don't pretend to know what it is or where it comes from, but it does exist. It was . . ."

He closed his eyes and shuddered. "It was awful. I've never felt anything like it, a mix of everything wrong and painful. It was the worst thing I've ever experienced."

Alek turned to look her in the eyes, but what he was seeing was somewhere far away. "Akima, be careful. The Masters weren't joking. Don't underestimate it. I don't know what you lived through before you came to us, but I've seen a couple of older students come through, and they always seem to struggle more than most with this trial."

He bowed his head deeply enough that his shortblack hairhid his eyes. "Just be careful, and come back to . . . come back to us." His lips twitched as for a moment, as if he wanted to say more, but then he turned and walked slowly back inside, leaving Akima alone to worry about tomorrow.

…

The morning dawned early and brisk. Akima had to fight the urge to shiver as she stepped out into the pale light, half of a warm breakfast muffin in one hand. This part of Dantooine might not ever get a true winter, but it still got plenty cold enough to be getting on with.

She popped the rest of the muffin into her mouth, swallowed, and started the long march out onto the plains. The exercise would warm her up . . . eventually. For now, she pulled her tunic tighter around her and tried not to think what her fellow scouts would say if they saw her now, complaining of a little chill. And out of shape, to boot.

Somehow, in spite of her muttered predictions to the contrary, the sun did in fact creep over the horizon, and her spirits rose with the temperature. It was a beautiful fall day, with just enough chill in the air to bite at your nose, but not enough to make being outdoors miserable. And the scenery was spectacular. The plains themselves were oceans of gold while above them swirled a riot of red, orange, and yellow leaves flying free or clinging to the branches of blba trees.

Streams gurgled through the cracks of the massive plains, their cheerful chorus laughing defiance at the cold that would never quite freeze it over.

All around her she felt life. Distant kath hounds, slowly emerging from their dens, iriaz playing in the grass, brith floating gently on the morning breeze, and dozens of other forms of life she had no names for, all of it filled her with a flood of energy and vibrancy.

What a beautiful day.

She felt so good she threw aside her better judgment and broke into a quick jog, grinning with pleasure at the feel of wind against her face, the warmth of exercise, and the simple joy of being alive on such a day. She charged through the fields, grass brushing against her knees, dirt crunching beneath her boots.

And then she was running even faster, gasping in surprise and delight as the press of all that life infused her and the Force itself gave her strength. She ran, each step as far as two normal steps, no, as three, and that wasn't all. Her eyes seemed sharper, quicker to pick out the uneven terrain, her mind and body quick enough to react.

A sense of freedom flooded through her, and she pulled straps on her pack all the way tight with a grin and ran on, grass hissing by as she passed.

…

Akima dropped her pack and collapsed onto the rocky ground of her campsite just as the sun set beyond the horizon. She gasped for air while trying not to move; each twitch and muscle spasm burned like fire as her clothes rubbed against her badly chafed body.

The Jedi robe and undergarments looked regal, and they were probably as athletically enabling as court-appropriate clothing got, but that was a long way from saying that it worked well. She was definitely going to have to look into a new layer, if not a whole new outfit, in the not-too-distant future. But for right now, it was all she had.

The first hour or two had been pure joy, but a quick pause to check her progress had shown that she'd needed to keep moving on that pace, if not even faster, if she was going to make it by nightfall. She'd done it, but it had been close.

Wait, wasn't there supposed to be some sort of trial here? Face the Dark Side or something? Ugh. She should probably be freaking out about now, but she was too exhausted to put much energy into being anxious. Instead, she hauled herself back to her feet and started searching for somewhere sheltered to spend the night. She'd only set up the tent if she absolutely had to - she wasn't certain if she could actually do it at all in this state.

Mercifully, it didn't take long. She poked her head into a kath hound nest with no footprints nearby and found that it was, indeed, abandoned. She crawled in, dragging her pack behind her, glow rod leading the way.

The den was filthy, of course, but she dug herself a little hole in the accumulated dead grass and bones and settled herself into place. Somewhere between setting her pack against the wall and reaching for an MRE she blinked, and her eyes didn't quite make it all the way back open.

…

She opened her eyes with a start as a chill wind rattled through her little cave. Shivers ran up and down her as the wind cut straight through her robe. Another thing to consider - a windbreaker, or some sort of shell layer beneath her robe?

The wind moaned again, and she realized that it wasn't just the wind coming through to her cave, there was a sort of mist. Smoke? She was on her knees, crawling towards it. Her body didn't hurt . . . in fact, she didn't actually feel much of anything. That felt vaguely wrong somehow, but she couldn't place why that was, and she was more concerned about what was happening outside. Where was that mist coming from? Was that why she felt anxious, on edge?

It was dark outside, the darkness of a moonless, starless night where only the vaguest of outlines can be seen. The wind blew harder now, howling, drowning out all other sounds except . . . what was that?

Akima hugged herself tightly against the bitter cold and stared into the night, eyes straining. There was something out there. More than one. Her teeth were chattering now, and the shivers were uncontrollable.

A bright red light pierced the darkness, so bright she had to squint to make out a black-clad figure, slowly approaching through the billowing smoke.

Sudden terror seized her, spasming her muscles with a million years of instinct telling her to run. And yet, the terror changed within her, transformed just before it could overcome her. It roiled and twisted inside her. It was happening again. Events were spiraling out of her control, she was losing control.

No, that person, that thing walking towards her was taking control from her. Who was this person to make her afraid, trembling body ready to bolt in an instant, ready to give up yet another home?

The bitterness festered, sinking its roots deep, and Akima sneered at the oncoming figure, burying her fear beneath anger. Beneath hatred.

No, this time she would not flee.

"You hear me? I'm not running any more!"

Her lightsaber ignited in her hands and she faced her adversary, stance low and wide. The figure paused before her and Akima trembled, agitated. What was she waiting for? Why approach and then just stop?

Anticipation heightened the growing tension between fear and hatred within her. It could not continue - it would explode inside her. This had to end. She couldn't wait, she needed to act, needed to do something, anything!

"Why don't you attack!?" Akima hissed at black space where the silent figure's face should have been.

She couldn't take it anymore. Her blade flashed as she struck, sparks flying as the red blade blocked her own, but the tension was over, the wait was over. There was no more room for fear, and anger flowed through her like the water of a warm bath, pure and simple relief from the warring emotions. She embraced it gratefully, throwing herself into a wild onslaught, undisciplined, uncaring. It didn't matter who won. In combat there was action, resolution. Freedom.

Her opponent weakened, her blocks slower, more easily batted aside. Akima gathered her strength and struck with all her hatred, a killing blow to the belly where she could watch her tormenter feel the agony the woman had inflicted upon her before death came. The blade struck true, sizzling itself deep into flesh.

Akima screamed in agony and sank to her knees. Through her tears she saw no opponent, no woman of the shadows - she was alone and it was her own lightsaber buried in her stomach, filling her nose with the smell of burning meat.

The lightsaber fell from nerveless fingers, deactivating itself, and she collapsed to the stony ground, not even feeling the rocks as they tore at her flesh while the life flowed out with her tears.

…

Akima snapped awake covered in a cold sweat and sat bolt upright. She gasped for air, frantic, while her eyes tried to make sense of the compact while of dirt and snarled roots in the pale light of morning. The movement rustled fabric across raw skin, bringing another wince of pain. It was a small distraction from the memories of her . . . dream? Vision?

She shuddered, horrified by what she had done, but even more so of what she'd felt. To feel trapped like that, so afraid that the only escape was through anger, through mindless violence . . . it was awful, almost unfathomable, and yet . . . she'd felt it. Experienced it. In some sense, done it.

She sat there for a long time.

…

It was mid afternoon when Akima hobbled back into the Academy. She'd walked back slowly the previous day, too shaken and sore to make anything like good time. She'd spent another night out on the plains, and only then had felt up to attempting the healing trance Master Vandar had shown her. It had helped some, though she'd had her concentration broken twice when she thought she'd heard something. After that she'd felt good enough to manage to jog the rest of the way back.

She expected she made quite the site as she crested the last hill and started hobbling back onto the grounds. Her hair was frazzled and greasy, her face still pale, eyes bloodshot. Her Jedi robe was beyond wrinkled, not to mention the grass stains on the knees and this being her third day since showering.

The Jedi Guardian on duty at the Academy's perimeter nodded to her as she stepped onto the manicured lawn at last.

"Welcome home, Jedi. The Council requests your presence immediately."

Akima looked up at the big sollustan with bleary eyes. "May I at least take a shower first?"

The Knight gave her a half-smile of sympathy. "I'm afraid the instructions were clear, young one."

Akima nodded and squared her shoulders, mentally preparing herself. She thought over her experiences one more time as she strode through the ancient halls of the academy with every shred of dignity she could muster. Had she passed? It was hard to see how she could have. She'd been exhausted, weakened, but given the timetable she'd been given, that had to have been part of the test. Was there another way to run quickly, one that didn't use as much energy? Either way, she'd given in to hatred and fear and ended up destroying herself.

Was the test to resist the Dark Side, or to learn the lesson? Had she already failed? Well, one way or another, she'd find out soon enough. The doorway to the great hall loomed large before her.

…

Arren Kae stood quietly in the back of the great hall. She hadn't been summoned, but the great hall was an open space as a matter of principle. The Jedi acted openly, in view of the galaxy. Personally Arren had always found the open-hall practice a well-intentioned but rather silly notion. It wasn't as if the Jedi didn't have private Council Sessions, especially here, at a theoretically secret training ground. There wasn't exactly a shouting crowd of the galactic press or the crush of the public streaming through on guided tours. No, the only non-Jedi visitors here were the farmers who looked to them to sort out their trivial problems.

She closed her eyes for a moment and mentally castigated herself yet again for brushing off the needs of others. The little picture, Arren, in all your contemplation of the big picture, never forget the small one; she could still hear her old master's gentle reminder after all this time.

She opened her eyes again as she felt the Force presence she'd come so far for approach the great hall. The Masters entered, doubtless feeling the same thing she did but they arranged themselves at the front of the hall and proceeded to ignore her. She returned the favor as they all focused on the young woman who, at long last, stepped through the entry-way.

Arren's eyes narrowed as she scrutinized her appearance. She looked . . . wary. Cautious. Tired, certainly, and more than a little haggard, but she carried herself with the confidence of someone that had spent hours ensuring their appearance was perfect.

Arren pursed her lips in thought. There was something there, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. It felt important, just out of her grasp. Was the girl truly that confident, that brash? Was it contempt, or worse, disrespect for the Council, for the Jedi itself? No, it lacked an edge, there was no bite to it. Covering up fear, perhaps, that they'd attack her for touching the Dark Side? No. She had to know these Masters could take her apart if they really wanted to, but there was no panic, none of the tenseness, the unconscious preparation to flee.

It was . . . uncertainty, but it was not directed at the Council. It was . . . ah. That was it. She was performing, acting her part, but she wasn't certain which part to play. The penitent student, lesson humbly learned, or the unshaken Jedi who had overcome, or at least only suffered a momentary setback?

Fascinating. She had more in common with this girl than she'd thought. Did the others on the Council suspect? Zhar? Of course not. Dorak was nearly as blind. Vandar, however . . . she'd never been truly certain what the old Master thought.

How will you deal with this, Masters?

…

Master Dorak watched as Akima came in, but kept half an eye on the Knight who'd settled herself quietly into the back of the hall. Arren Kae had always been an interesting one, though she'd never shared his concern for the smaller things, the daily experiences of others. The woman studied Akima intensely before settling back, her aura in the Force filled with . . . satisfaction. Anticipation. Had she discovered something?

Enough. Today is not about her.

He, too, turned his attention to Akima as Master Vandar began to speak.

"Hmm . . . sense much uncertainty in you, I do. The taint of the Dark Side, as well I sense. Your experiences, please relate."

Akima eyed each of them in turn before taking a deep breath to begin. Master Dorak felt his heart drop with that pause. She did not see them as mentors, as friends. She did not feel she was one of them yet.

"I made it to the designated area at sunset," she began, and Dorak couldn't help but be privately impressed. The timetable had been carefully designed to ensure that young Jedi arrived late, if not the following day. Uncertainty and self-doubt were a big part of the Dark Side.

"My instructions said to wait there for the night, so I took shelter in an old Kath Hound nest. I fell asleep there and had a . . . a vision."

"What did you see?" asked Master Zhar.

Akima nodded her head, acknowledging the question while giving her a moment to gather her thoughts. She unconsciously straightened up to attention, hands at her side.

"I was in the Kath Hound den and it was very cold and dark. I crawled outside. It was hard to see, there was a lot of fog or smoke."

She spoke confidently in short, clipped tones.

"There was a person there, species and gender uncertain, dressed in dark, ragged clothing. The figure drew a lightsaber, red blade, and advanced. And I . . . I . . ." The first sense of uncertainty had crept into her voice.

The moment of truth. Master Dorak watched her carefully. She caught his gaze for a moment and seemed to decide something. She straightened again and continued, her former confidence restored.

"I was afraid, and I was angry that I was afraid. I attacked the figure, stabbed her. The figure disappeared and I discovered that I had stabbed myself. Then I awoke and made my way back and reported directly here."

…

Arren considered what she had seen. Akima had passed, of course. The only real way to fail was to lie about the experience, to cover up a failure. There wasn't an apprentice in the galaxy that could lie to the faces of a Jedi Council and get away with it. The way she'd done it though, daring the council to judge her – there was a lot of defiance there. Not surprising, really. The older ones didn't have the deeply ingrained deference to the Council.

…

"You have done well, Apprentice," spoke Zhar, who's turn it was to welcome. "You have come far over many ye... months. The twi'lek gave no sign he'd made a slip, face perfectly impassive. Was it intentional? An insult? "You have learned the Jedi code, the way of the Jedi. You have constructed your own lightsaber. And now, you have confronted the Dark Side. You are ready to be advanced to the rank of Padawan in the Jedi Order. Congratulations, Padawan."

Akima was somewhere between shocked and stunned. She had expected something, but she'd never have guessed in a million years that this was what they had in mind - but the Masters weren't done with her yet. "As a Padawan, you are ready for individual instruction with your own Master. Under normal circumstances a Master would choose to take you on, but yours is a . . . special case." Master Zhar's control broke and his lip twitched, though from amusement or irritation she couldn't tell. "As such, Knight Kae will be your new Master." Zhar nodded towards a woman at the back of the room Akima hadn't noticed. It was her, the woman she'd seen watching her.

"You shall listen to her guidance and instruction," picked up Master Dorak, "and learn from her experience and wisdom. In doing so you shall continue down the path trodden by hundreds of generations who have come before." He smiled at her warmly, and Akima couldn't help but feel a little relieved to see his open friendliness. "Again, congratulations, and welcome, officially, to the Jedi Order."