R2-D2 and I took places near the front of the spectator area of the arena. "A lot of observers for this," I said, taking particular note of a cluster of younger initiates milling on the opposite end from us, including Partha.
**Disagreement. There are seventy-nine onlookers, counting this unit,** the droid responded. **Capacity estimated at four hundred thirty. Crowd density is low.**
"Well, yes," I conceded the point, "but I don't remember anywhere near this many people for my initiate trials."
**Biochemical storage is not reliable for quantified data,** he insisted. **0B1 recollection of time-distant event is questionable. Do not draw conclusions from your comparison.**
"All right," I agreed, changing the subject. "What made you decide to join us for this event?"
R2-D2 didn't respond, however, before another voice answered. "Maybe he just wanted to cheer me on," Olana spoke from just behind me.
I forced myself to reign in my surprise, because once again I had no indication of her mind or presence before she spoke. I turned to face her; she was apprehensive, fidgeting, turning her saber hilt over and over in her hands.
**Calibrating audio output to transmit vocal encouragement. (Query) Preference for content of message?** Apparently R2 was happy with the idea of cheering.
Giggling, Olana gave the droid her best smile. "You're the best, Artoo. But I'll need to concentrate, so no sounds required, thank you." Her smile dropped as she turned to me. "And no mental connection, either, please. Not even a casual link; I don't want anything distracting me."
I suppressed my reflex to glance at Partha, and merely nodded. A surreptitious barrier for her empathic negging of my student was all I had planned, but I'd stay out of it. It would be a setback if Olana hadn't managed to deal with the Zeltron girl and failed the Trial because of it, but we'd endure.
Two more familiar minds entered my senses, and I looked up in time to catch the enthusiastic nine-year-old leaping into my arms. "You made it," I shot Qui-Gon a glance as he limped to us. "When did you get back?"
"We came straight here from the docking bay," Anakin boasted. "And we're here in time! Did you finish it, Lana? Is it ready?" He made to grab at her hilt, but she stepped back out of his reach.
"It's ready. Not sure I am," she murmured. "How was Jedha?'
"Cold," the boy answered.
"Crowded," Qui-Gon added. "More pilgrims than usual this time of year. I still think it was a useful learning experience for Anakin."
The boy nodded solemnly. "The Jedi have been around thousands of years. There's lots to learn."
Olana gave Anakin a quick hug before leaving the bleachers to join the other initiates. I took another quick glance over at Partha and her cohort, who certainly seemed keen to see the outcome of today's trials. Annie climbed up on my lap as Qui-gon carefully eased into the seat next to me.
"When are we going to start taking missions together? The four of us? And Artoo," The boy asked, clinging to me while angling himself to see into the arena.
"Soon," I said, including Qui-Gon in my reply. "Provided we're all up to it, I'd like to start tackling the Kathol Rift."
Qui-Gon frowned. "The outback? Still mostly populated by species that haven't joined the Republic, correct?"
R2-D2 chimed in. **Agreement. In Sector Kathol, nine planets are claimed by Republic colonists. Gandle Ott duration six hundred twenty-two years.**
"There's a colony there about six centuries old, he says," I repeated. "None in the Rift, though, right?"
R2-D2 chirped, **Affirmative. Volatile nebular fragments permeate the Rift. Ship navigation is unreliable; collision with nebular accretions destroys vessels.**
"I can pilot us through," Anakin boasted.
I nodded again. "The rift is dangerous, but I have some ideas on how to deal with that."
"After you get back from Ilum," Qui-Gon reminded me.
We turned our attention to the arena as Battlemaster Cin Drallig entered, followed by the four initiates. Cin took personal responsibility for the combat training of younglings, and had for years. The mood among the spectators was tense and electric, but I carefully packed away and shielded my mind to avoid any accidental contact with Olana. It was odd, hearing and seeing so many spectators but blocking out their thoughts.
The floor of the arena had markings for dueling circles, including one right in the middle, and it was here that Drallig stood while the students hung back, outside its boundary. "Junyo, come here," the Master said, simply. His voice carried to us quite well.
"Show me your weapon," Drallig ordered to the initiate who now stood with him in the circle. The boy handed over his hilt, and the much larger man activated the blade. The green plasma hummed thickly as he waved it. "You built this?" he thumbed the blade off, handing the hilt back.
"I made it, yes."
"From what crystal?"
"My mother's," Junyo met the Jedi's eyes with a defiant pride.
Cin simply nodded, drawing his own green blade. "Show me what you have learned."
There was no hesitation in Junyo as he leapt toward the Battlemaster, spinning in the rapid cadence of Form IV. Weapons hissed as Cin deflected and redirected the attacks, striking back on occasion, but mostly just assessing the young initiate's footwork. Junyo flipped over the older man twice, but at no point was there a genuine risk of scoring a hit.
"Good. You pass." Noise erupted around me in response to this simple declaration, but only for a moment before the Battlemaster jerked his head to glare at the audience. The return to low murmurs was swift. "Olana, you're next."
I steadfastly kept my mind focused inwards as I watched her replace Junyo inside the circle. She spared two glances, I saw - one to me, and one to the other side where Partha was sitting. I nodded in what I hoped was a supportive manner.
Olana's jaw seemed to flex, as though she were gritting her teeth inside her closed mouth. She was tense in a way I had never seen her. Had she forgotten her relaxation exercises; her control? It was too late now.
"Show me your weapon," the Battlemaster extended his hand easily. Closing it around her smaller hilt - not just smaller than an adults, but significantly smaller than Junyo's, even - he thumbed it and inspected the pale blue blade.
"You built this yourself? No help?" He asked, his glare suddenly consuming the student in front of him.
"Yes, Master," Olana said, her teeth finally prying themselves apart. I watched her mentally uncoil as she continued. "From Darth Maul's crystal. Given to me by my Master, Obi-wan." She didn't spare me a look this time.
"He's not your Master yet," Cin reminded her. He handed back her hilt with the blade still activated, and I was struck by how different their interaction seemed to be from what he'd done with Junyo just moments earlier. But at least his next words, as he backed off to draw his own blade, were the same: "Show me what you have learned."
The exclamations from the other side of the arena distracted me only briefly. Several of the children had stood to cluster around… yes, Partha, it looked like. I could see the flash of her uniquely-colored skin from where she now lay prone on the bench.
When I turned back to the arena it was clear that neither of the combatants there had spared even a moment's glance at this uproar. Olana held a Form I fencing stance, striking out with simple swings and thrusts in what even to my eye were rather predictable patterns. Nonetheless, I was proud to see that she correctly and smoothly parried the Battlemaster's probing counter-thrusts. After three of these, Cin Drallig nodded and called a halt.
"Excellent," he smiled… yes, actually smiled. "You've improved a great deal in a short time, Olana. I wouldn't bet on you in a tournament, but you won't cut your own arms off out there, either. You pass."
Olana returned to outside the circle as I allowed myself a sigh of relief. She finally turned to me, although I noticed she wasn't really smiling so much as grimacing. I reached out to share my pride and satisfaction in her… and felt her mind flinch away. A second attempt came only upon hastily constructed mental barriers, which confused me.
… until I looked over at Partha again. Two Jedi in attendance had replaced her friends, and she slowly and precariously stood up under their support. I focused on my mental senses, and opened to Partha's mind. Her emotions were frayed and fragmentary, and her consciousness roiled in a tattered mass. She felt, for all the world, like she'd engaged in a serious psychic battle, and lost.
When I turned my attention to Olana again, she was looking at Partha. My student only now had a satisfied smile on her face. A rather cruel one.