There was a large, heavy hydrospanner on the wall, and Klinith lifted it in her hands, testing the weight. “Oh, I have your updates right here.”
She slammed the heavy tool into the top of the droid, again and again, until the droid was little more than random metal parts. Klinith smiled at the destruction all around her.
She’d gotten to smash something after all.
Vernestra Rwoh looked at the gleaming ship in the docking bay and contemplated the task before her with a mixture of excitement and dread. Her first mission for the Jedi Council and her first tasking as a Jedi Knight. She had dreamed about this day since she was a Padawan. She had only been a Knight for a short while, and it still felt too amazing to be true.
Even if the assignment was simply keeping a senator’s daughter safe. Babysitting seemed below a Jedi Knight. But! Vernestra was not going to let it dampen her spirits.
The luxury liner on the landing zone had been sent by the Chancellor herself, and it was grand and impressive. It loomed over the other ships in Port Haileap, its bright exterior flashing like a beached mael fish, massively silver and sleek in its curves. The Steady Wing boasted sixteen decks, three decorative gardens, an entire games deck, and even a grand dining room that could seat a thousand. The ship was more lavish than anything Vernestra had ever seen before, and Port Haileap was regularly visited by some of the best tour lines—Galaxy Tours, ThrillSpace Travels, and Chandrila Star Lines—in addition to the pleasure yachts flown by ambassadors visiting outlying planets and adventurers set on discovering new planets in the uncharted regions.
The Steady Wing was something entirely different. It was a ship fit for an important delegation.
Vernestra adjusted her tabard, the luminous gold design of the scrollwork along the bottom edge marking her as a Knight from the temple at Hynestia. She shifted uncomfortably in the unfamiliar clothing, finer than what she usually wore. Port Haileap was a rough-and-tumble sort of place where Vernestra usually made do with a day uniform of a gold tunic and ivory trousers overlaid with a simple tabard bearing the same gold embroidered design of her temple. Outposts like Port Haileap had no need for pomp and circumstance. The small bit of civilization carved out of the giant marblewood forest existed to help long haulers refuel and resupply, and the attire of a young Jedi Knight was the last thing on the minds of visitors. But this ship was bound for the dedication of Starlight Beacon, the greatest achievement of the glorious Republic, and would be carrying a delegation from nearby Dalna back to Coruscant after the important occasion. She could not show up in plain ivory and embroidery. So there she was, vaguely uncomfortable in her finery.
Just thinking about Starlight Beacon distracted Vernestra from her thoughts about the mission and doing a good job so she would make the Jedi proud. A massive space station, part temple and part way station for the Republic, Starlight Beacon had been under construction for as long as Vernestra could remember. As a youngling, Vernestra had heard her elders speak of how Starlight, as it was more often referred to, would change the galaxy for the better, especially for those planets far from the Core. Better communications, more support from the Republic . . . Starlight Beacon was going to change everything. The Republic’s space station in the wilds of the Outer Rim would serve as a safe haven in the wilderness, a light in the darkness. It would make the galaxy better for everyone. Vernestra was lucky to get a chance to see it for herself.
It made her proud to be a Jedi and glad that the Force had provided such an opportunity for her. She tried not to let pride overwhelm her, as she knew the Force had just as much to do with her good fortune as her own hard work did, but looking at the Steady Wing and contemplating the next few weeks, it was difficult.
In her defense, it had been quite a year. Vernestra had undertaken her Jedi trials earlier than most on recommendation from her master and, to the surprise of many, had passed. “Who is she? She’s no one special,” some of the other Padawans had muttered, and they were right. Vernestra was only a Mirialan girl with a Force gift, and there were hundreds of other Padawans and younglings just like her.
But as far as she knew, she was the only Jedi who had passed her trials on her first attempt at the age of fifteen, when most Padawans were in the early stages of their apprenticeships. And most days rather than feeling arrogant or prideful at being such a prodigy, Vernestra felt a great responsibility to help the galaxy in whatever ways the Force, and the Jedi Council, determined were best. But was it so wrong to take a moment and relish her accomplishments? She closed her eyes and felt the Force flow through all, and contemplated her feelings and the obligations that lay before her. Even now, at sixteen, it seemed like a lot to be a real Jedi Knight. But she would do it as best as she could as long as she was allowed.
She decided it was fine to be happy about this first mission, even if it was just babysitting.
“Hey, stop her!”
The sense of calm shattered and Vernestra opened her eyes to see a maintenance droid chasing a small, dark-skinned human girl riding a scoot speeder built of odds and ends. The girl’s hair framed her face in a halo of riotous curls, and she held a brightly shining power crystal in a single gloved hand. The expression of joyous triumph on her face was one that Vernestra knew all too well.
Avon Starros, daughter of Senator Ghirra Starros, was once again up to no good.
Avon had not yet seen Vernestra, and the Jedi used that to her advantage. Vernestra raised her hands, palms flat toward Avon, and pushed with the Force. The girl went flying backward off of her homemade contraption, but instead of letting her fall hard onto the deck, Vernestra kept Avon suspended in the air while the vehicle froze in the middle of the docking bay.
“Avon,” Vernestra said sweetly. “What is going on?”
Avon twisted around in midair, her happy expression souring when she spied Vernestra. “Ugh, I thought you were already on the ship.”
“No, I decided to take one last walk through the outpost before we left. I can see I am not the only one. What did you do?”
“Nothing! I didn’t do anything. By the stars, I don’t know why you always think everything is my fault, Vern.”
Vernestra gritted her teeth against the terrible nickname. Master Douglas Sunvale called her that, and while she was not about to correct a Jedi Master, she had no such qualms about correcting a girl younger than her. “Please don’t call me that.” She released her hold on the Force and let Avon fall to the ground, which was not all that far. The scoot speeder, which Avon had no doubt built from materials left unattended around the port, crashed into a nearby stack of shipping crates.
“You are the worst,” Avon groaned, splaying her limbs out dramatically on the ground.
“It wasn’t that far,” Vernestra said, even though it had been a bit mean to let the girl fall.
“I will take that,” the maintenance droid said, plucking the crystal from Avon’s gloved hand before stomping back the way it had come. Vernestra walked over to Avon and offered her a hand up, but the younger girl just glared at her and picked herself up on her own.
“One day, when I am the galaxy’s foremost inventor, I am going to create a device that blocks the Force,” Avon said. “And then let’s see how you like that.”
Vernestra laughed. “Avon, we’ve discussed this. The Force is all around and inside of us, as well. It isn’t like your power crystals. It’s impossible to block the Force. Also, why did you take that droid’s energy crystal?”