CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: BE OVERPREPARED

Before Sten and I faced off in the Outdoor Arena for sparring practice, he posed three vital questions. "First, why did you ask me to help you train, instead of one of your other associates? I rarely break rank."

"You're not only a Knight, or even one especially talented in combat. You won against one of our own who had fallen to the Dark Side. I figure anyone who can do that can help me to try and stalemate a Master."

"Fair enough, but I fear you overestimate me. Zoële Sisk was my peer and classmate, of nearly equal skill in battle. When she refused to surrender after I disarmed her -" He cleared his throat. "Secondly, why didn't you ask your Master to spar with you if you needed extra conditioning? He's far stronger than I am."

"He wants to punish me for my night of nearly-lethal recreation at Zetto's, just as much as Master Voyna does. Master Severns would never help me to try and fight my way out of facing the consequences. 'What you see is what you get,' he always tells me, 'but especially when you gaze within yourself.' I was a fool, and when I look in the mirror, my reflection shows me just the same. Still, both Masters are giving me a chance to prove myself, and the way I'd prefer to do that is through winning. Any more interrogation?"

At first his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance, but then Sten saw that I was teasing and gave a short laugh. "One more query: How badly do you want to earn a draw against Master Voyna in this sparring match?"

"Very much so."

Sten immediately leapt into the air, performing a Force jump and landing so close to me that I froze. Igniting his staff with twin cyan blades, he said two words that were as cold and clear: "Be overprepared." He launched into a complicated series of maneuvers that I could barely counter. There was no time to think or remember if I'd learned such techniques before. There were only nanoseconds to act and react, attack and counterattack, advance and defend. When the Knight had overwhelmed me, he said sharply:

"That was fifteen seconds, and you've already lost." His eyes flashed with the icy fire of his training staff. "Again, and faster." This time I was only slightly more ready than I had been for his Force acrobatics, but ready enough. I wasn't startled this time, but was hypervigilant instead. Tautness made my large muscles stretch nearly to their breaking point, and adrenaline flooded my veins. My feet seemed to have minds of their own, singularly focused upon blocking Sten's minuscule steps into my territory. Both of us knew that in a sparring match for points or higher stakes, these were advantages, no matter how small they looked to the untrained eye. Once more I fought; once more I was defeated. "Eighteen seconds. Better. Again."

By this time a small crowd had begun to gather around the rim of the Outdoor Arena, but I barely noticed. Had this been a friendly practice exercise, I would have taken more time to recognize their faces and smile. However, the words life and death cracked like lightning bolts in my mind's eye with each maneuver. Sten didn't just mean business here. He was treating this battle as if it were as real as the one against Zoële, even though we were only using training sabers. As much as this frightened me, it also filled me with a wild thrill that I'd almost never felt. The giddy rebellion that I'd felt in gambling at Zetto's paled in comparison. That had been child's play; this was war. Simulated, of course, but war nonetheless. When the outcome of it hung by a hair's breadth, Sten announced my time: "Seventeen seconds. Again!"

We threw ourselves at one another time after time, using every assault and defense of which we both could think. Not once did I beat Sten. My triumph lay in working up to twenty seconds of pure strength. One year ago, I wouldn't have believed myself capable of such a feat. What had changed within me? What had caused me to ignore everything else, including the people around us, in the pursuit of victory?

"Rest now," said my opponent as gently as he'd been fierce before. A cool breeze, like one after a heavy storm, swept over me. "We'll meet tomorrow: same time, same place." He bowed to me at the waist, but I fell helplessly to my knees. Drenched in sweat, I scarcely made it back to my quarters before collapsing on my bed. I slept for fourteen hours straight, missing dinner and the next day's breakfast entirely. It was only on the morrow that I realized I hadn't been plagued by nightmares or the starship named Desire.