CHAPTER 26 - CONSUMING DARKNESS

Padawan Fau panted as each foot thudded on the dusty trail. Huddled over and gasping, she fought back the bile creeping along her esophagus.

"Naluma! Keep going."

She smoothed the straying wisps of her dark hair and repinned her bun. "Coming, master."

A few steps later, she braced herself against a tree and spewed her lunch. After a few cycles, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and cleared the vile taste with a swig from her canteen.

She expected to hear another admonishment from Master Skywalker.

"When will you learn?"

She jumped at the proximity of his voice.

"A Jedi takes her strength from the Force. Strength. Endurance. Speed."

When another wave of exhaustion-induced nausea overcame her, he rubbed her back. The compassionate touch stirred something deep inside. She found herself scooching closer to him.

A steady stream flowed into her now. She didn't remember opening herself to the Force, but there was no denying the regenerative effects.

"Pull it from around you—the trees, the rocks—" Luke let go of her. "Wait! Not me."

"Sorry, master."

He nodded and jogged down the trail again. Within in a few paces, Naluma had caught up, matching her pace to his.

"Yes, pull from the Force, before you are tired. Control is easier when you have strength."

Easy for you to say.

She pursued him through the sosna trees, their untamed limbs brushing their faces. Their pungent fragrance filled the warm air, invigorating her.

A power hummed in the air between her and Master Skywalker. With each footfall, it resonated—she was sure she could touch it if she only reached out.

In front of her, he bounded into the air with a forward flip. His body rose at least five meters.

She bunched her legs and propelled her lithe body into a low tumble, barely recovering her pace as her knees buckled on the landing.

"Higher. The Force is with you. Use it."

"Yes, master." She huffed and brushed the dripping sweat from her brow.

Their pace increased, almost a sprint now. Aerial, sprint, two backflips, aerial.

"Good."

Blood rushed her face as a slight grin broached it.

"Ataru aerials are for both defense and attack. Control your height. Anticipate me."

Before he finished the last word, he tumbled low, bounced off the hard-packed dirt, and flipped high.

Naluma executed the first turn well, but she failed to attain any height on the bounce. As she crashed to the dirt, Luke shook his head before starting off again.

He scaled a fallen tree—the massive trunk leaning upon another—and raced, bounding across the tree limbs. Their link severed once more.

She followed him, pulling in the Force and increasing her speed. Far ahead, she glimpsed Luke leaping over a chasm thirty meters wide.

Do or do not. There is no try.

Those words echoed in her head as she approached the cliff. Master Skywalker waited for her.

She pushed off with her right leg and stiffened her body as she flew across the canyon. Not quite halfway across, she crested early.

Terror set off palpitations. She windmilled her arms and legs. I'm not going to make it. Going to be nothing but a tiny splat on the canyon floor.

But as the rim of the gorge passed by her, she felt her body rise until she tumbled to the ground in front of Luke's feet.

"Thank you, master."

He pivoted and raced down the trail to the valley floor. Naluma picked herself up and chased him, losing track of him within minutes.

When she reached the bottom of the hill, the trail diverged. She bent over and pulled in the Force.

A whisper called her. She caught the edges of her name—not Naluma. Her real name. The one she wanted to forget.

She shuddered and backed away from the right fork. Without looking back, she plunged down the path on the left, a tree-canopied tunnel where little light perforated the darkness.

She stopped in a small clearing as a wave of cold penetrated her. Shuddering, she wrapped her arms around her torso. Caves surrounded her. Each cave mouth glowed a deep red, pulsing.

The cold intensified. She shivered as it pierced right through her calling her name. She knew the voices. Her father. Her former master. The lieutenant she … murdered.

Yes, it's all your fault. Come, this is what you want. Freedom from your fear. It only comes from revenge. Once they're all dead, you'll be free.

"No. No. No!" Tears fell down her face. "No. I don't want to kill. No!"

A hand on her back startled her. She pivoted and jumped away, leaping high above the trees and landing in a defensive position.

"Master?"

Luke sidled beside her while maintaining his gaze on the central cave. "Feel the coldness? The darkness?"

She shivered and nodded, unable to conceal a slight whimper.

"This is what fear brings. Fear of the Force. Fear with the Force. Don't let the darkness consume you."

As he enfolded his arm around her shoulders to lead her from the grove, she buried her head in his shoulder and wept.

Father? Is that you?

Luke guided Naluma up the ramp of the shuttle. Her sobs had ceased, but he could feel her fear pounding in her heart. It almost paralyzed her.

"Vrrt dweet beep." The cylindrical Artoo unit greeted them from the top of the ramp.

"What's that, Artoo?"

"BEEP bop beep."

"Well, I could sure use a distraction tonight. Relay to Madine we'll be there."

The droid tweeted and rolled to the cockpit while Luke dragged his Padawan into the main cabin.

Naluma shook her head out of her daze. "Did he just say a concert?"

"Yeah. The Togrutan Toombas are putting on a show for the troops down in the arena. We could use some R&R."

She shook her head. "Master, you go. I'm too tired."

He raised his eyebrows. "Did you really think that would fly? The Force—"

"—Is our strength." She rolled her eyes at him.

He pushed her toward her cabin. "Hot shower and then some flight training before we head out."

"But—"

He opened the refresher door by her cabin and prodded her inside. "Don't make me pull rank."

She stuck her tongue out at him before sliding into the cabin.

Almost an hour later while gnawing on a sandwich, Luke tinkered with the shuttle controls in the cockpit. "Is Naluma done with the shower yet, Artoo?"

"Gngon dWEET."

"Thanks." He settled the cover to the control panel into place. "Mind securing that plate while I clean up?"

"Dewoop."

"Hey, 'Lu—" His mouth hung open as she exited the refresher wrapped only in a white towel. Another towel covered her hair like a turban, but a few drops of water dripped to the deck.

Warmth spread to his face as he tried to lower his eyes. "Sorry, I didn't know that you weren't decent." He inhaled the fragrance of flowery soap. Surely, that didn't come from Base Supply.

"Are you saying I'm not decent, Master Skywalker?" She raised an eyebrow at him and grinned.

"No … um … I just … uh … Artoo said—"

The little droid beeped and chirped.

Without turning his gaze from her graceful neck and full lips, he said, "Artoo, that wasn't funny."

The droid rolled away, still amused.

"Blaming it on Artoo now? Right. But you're the one still looking, Master Skywalker." She batted her eyes at him and gave a mysterious smile before slipping inside her cabin.

With his heart thumping, he stepped into the muggy refresher, the glass still fogged with condensation. The lights flickered on as he peeled off his tunic.

Why did I do that? She's going to think I'm a creep. He slammed his fist against the tiles wall. Skywalker, she's your Padawan. Professional. Keep it professional. She certainly doesn't need to feel threatened.

The cold water shocked the desire out of his core. "I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me."

A Jedi must not have attachments. Yoda's and Obi-Wan's voices echoed in his head.

"Love is a strength. It is the light of the Force." Anakin's voice surrounded him. "Don't shut it out."

The biting stream of water stole all thoughts. "Argh!"