Lightsabers

6

On the fringes of the unmapped heart of the galaxy, the Shadow Academy found a new hiding place near the flaming shells of two stars that had been dying for the last five thousand years.

Without its cloaking device, the dark Imperial training center hung like a circlet of thorns, washed in the blaze of solar radiation. The whispering trails of thrown-off star gas would camouflage the station from prying Rebel eyes.

Zekk stood before the broad windowports of the tallest observation tower, staring into the dazzling maelstrom of starfire. The darkened transparisteel of the viewport filtered out the deadly radiation—but even dimmed to a fraction of its true power, the fury of the universe left Zekk breathless.

Beside him stood Brakiss, Master of the Shadow Academy, a tall and statue-handsome Jedi. As an Imperial spy, Brakiss had once studied at the New Republic’s Jedi academy; when Master Skywalker had tried to turn him away from the dark side of the Force, however, Brakiss had fled back to the Empire. There he gathered a group of Dark Jedi trainees and conditioned them to serve the great leader of the Second Imperium, the resurrected Emperor Palpatine himself.

Brakiss lifted his serene face, drinking in the view of the double suns. “This reality makes the image in my office seem like a pale glimmer by comparison, doesn’t it, Zekk?”

Zekk nodded, but found himself without words.

“More than five millennia ago the Denarii Nova exploded, ripping through these stars and reducing them to cinders,” Brakiss said. “The powerful Sith sorcerer Naga Sadow caused this cataclysmic event to gain his freedom from pursuing Republic warships. With the extravagant power of the dark side, Naga Sadow tore these two stars apart and used giant flares like two slapping hands to crush the fleet behind him.”

Zekk nodded again and finally found words. “Another example of the power of the dark side.”

Brakiss smiled proudly at him. “It is a power your friends Jacen and Jaina would never have shown you—much less taught you.”

“No,” Zekk agreed. “They never would have.” For years, he had been friends with the twin children of Han Solo and Leia Organa Solo. Zekk was just a street kid, though—a nobody, who lived by his wits scavenging items in the dangerous underlevels of the city-covered world of Coruscant. His hopes for a better life had been little more than dreams until the Nightsister Tamith Kai snatched him and brought him to the Shadow Academy as part of a new recruitment drive.

In an earlier attempt to gain talented candidates, Brakiss had made an error by kidnapping the high-profile trainees Jacen, Jaina, and Lowbacca. When that failed, he had decided the Shadow Academy might do better with a different sort of person: downtrodden young ones who wouldn’t be missed, yet had just as much potential to acquire Jedi powers—and more to gain by swearing allegiance to the Second Imperium.

Zekk had resisted the transformation at first, fighting to stay loyal to his friends. But gradually Brakiss lured him, showing Zekk how to use the Force for one small thing, then another. Zekk discovered that he was strong in the Force, and he learned quickly.

The experience altered his feelings toward the twins from friendship to resentment. Jaina and Jacen had never thought to include him in Jedi testing, though he felt he had as much innate talent as any of their highborn friends. Zekk’s main regret in leaving his old life was that he missed his companion, old Peckhum. But now he had much more of a future. Zekk was beginning to understand Jedi powers, and he had already done things he’d never dreamed of.

Gazing at the stormy suns, Brakiss raised his arms to each side, spreading his fingers. His silvery robe flowed around him as if knit from silken spiderwebs. He stared into the swirling flares of the Denarii Nova. “Observe, Zekk—and learn.”

Closing his eyes, the Master of the Shadow Academy began to move his hands. Zekk watched through the observation port, his green eyes widening.

The ocean of rarefied incandescent gases between the dying stars started to swirl like arms of fire … writhing, changing shape, dancing in time with the hand motions Brakiss made. The dark teacher was manipulating the starfire itself!

He whispered to Zekk without opening his eyes, without observing the effect of his work. “The Force is in all things,” Brakiss said, “from the smallest pebble to the largest star. This is just a glimmer of how Naga Sadow reached out to the stars and delivered a mortal wound five thousand years ago.”

“Could you make the sun explode?” Zekk asked in awe.

Brakiss opened his eyes and looked at his young student. His smooth, perfect forehead creased. “I don’t know,” he said. “And I don’t believe I ever want to try.”

Zekk remembered the way Brakiss had first enticed him to experiment with his innate Jedi powers, by giving him a flarestick and showing how simple it was to draw shapes in the flames with the Force. Here in the Denarii Nova, Brakiss had done the same thing—only on a scale the size of a star system.

“Could I try it?” Zekk said eagerly, leaning forward. He touched his fingertips to the light-filtering viewport, looking out at the double star and its brilliant corona, which rippled like a barely contained inferno.

Brakiss smiled again. “You’re ambitious as always, young Zekk.” He placed a firm hand on his prize student’s shoulder. “But do not be impatient. There is more you must learn, much more. You’ve been such a voracious learner, surpassing my greatest expectations about how capable you are of using the power you were born with. You easily accomplish the exercises I set for you—but there comes a time when every Jedi trainee must be tested to the limit.” Brakiss raised his eyebrows. “Tamith Kai continues to flaunt her greatest student, Vilas, who has been training here for more than a year. But you are learning so much faster. I believe you have reached that stage, Zekk.”

He reached into his silvery robes and grasped something there, but hesitated, meeting the dark-haired boy’s steady gaze. “I know you are ready for this. Do not disappoint me.”

“What is it, Master Brakiss?” Zekk asked.

From the folds of his robe Brakiss removed a dark, ornate cylinder. “The time has come for you to have your own lightsaber.”

Zekk took the ancient Jedi weapon and stared at it in wonder. Even deactivated, it felt powerful in his hand. He squeezed the grip and swung the handle back and forth, imagining a crackling energy blade. It felt good. Very good.

“Normally,” Brakiss said, “I would have suggested that you build your own weapon. But it takes time and intense concentration to assemble the components, understand the workings. And we have not the time. Through the dark side, many things are easier, more efficient. Take this lightsaber as my gift to you; wield it well in the service of the Second Imperium.”

“May I turn on the power?” Zekk whispered, still in awe.

“Of course.”

Brakiss stood back as Zekk activated the lightsaber. A scarlet beam lanced outward, glowing like lava. “This is a masterful weapon,” Brakiss said. “It has already been attuned for use by the dark side.”

Zekk swiveled his wrist left and right, listening to the hum of the powerful cutting edge.

“In fact, this lightsaber is very similar to the one Darth Vader used,” Brakiss pointed out.

Zekk struck out against the air. “When can I train with it?” he said. “How will I learn?”

Brakiss led the young man out of the observation tower. “We have simulation rooms,” he said. “A while ago, I spent some time training your friends Jacen and Jaina. Very disappointing. They did learn how to use lightsabers, but they resisted me each step of the way.

“I expect you, on the other hand, to excel in every routine. You, Zekk, will quickly surpass anything your friends accomplished. And I know Master Skywalker and his fears—he is too nervous to train his precious younger students with their own lightsabers. He considers the energy blades too dangerous.” Brakiss laughed. “His fears are misplaced. The most truly dangerous thing is a Dark Jedi wielding such a weapon.”

As Zekk accompanied his teacher down the corridor, he switched off the lightsaber and held its sturdy handle in his grip. He looked down at the legendary Jedi weapon and ran his finger over its case.

The lightsaber felt warm, ready … begging to be used. The afterimage of the scarlet blade still blazed across his vision.

Zekk tried to blink it away, but the bright line remained. At last he said, “Yes, I can see how such a weapon could be very dangerous indeed.”