Read Online Yoda by Sean Stewart - Free Book Online Page B

enough that she had taken time out of her relentless study to help him practice the Twelve Intermediate Knots when he was having trouble in Master Bear’s Climbing and Ropework class. She had several ideas for how to beat him in the tournament, but some of them weren’t very nice things to do to a kid, and she had really been hoping she wouldn’t have to face him.
    Which is probably why they’d been paired, she thought sourly. She shot a suspicious glance at Iron Hand. The Master met her eyes blandly and went on with her list.
    The matches were open combat, no holds barred, with sparring to continue until one person surrendered by tapping the floor three times or took three burns from the training lightsabers, which were dialed to their lowest power settings. Even at low power a cut from a training lightsaber was no joke. The touch of the blade was shockingly painful, a searing kiss that made one’s muscles jerk and one’s nerves howl, and it left a red welt that took days to heal. Scout knew because every day for the last three weeks she had gone to a private spot in the unused kitchen gardens and touched herself on the flank or shoulder or leg with her own lightsaber at low power. Pain, as Master Iron Hand was fond of pointing out, was extremely distracting, and Scout, knowing she was likely to get hit, was determined not to let the pain make her lose focus.
    She couldn’t afford to lose.
    The first matches began. Scout tried to pay attention, watching for any obvious weaknesses in case she met the winner in a later round, but the cramping anxiety in her stomach made it hard to focus, and after a couple of bouts she joined the ranks of the Meditators, thinking only of her breath, of silence, of the deep calm of blood washing through her body like a hidden tide. She could feel the Force there, too, filling the room like a fat electric charge. Twice it jumped like a spark from one fighter to another, leaving the victor and the vanquished both blinking as if struck by lightning. Scout didn’t even try to open herself to it. The Force was not an ally she could trust, not when so much depended on this.
    Her lips were dry and there was a bitter, metallic taste in her mouth.
Get a grip,
she told herself.
Come on, Scout. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.
    Suddenly it was time. Her palms were sweaty and her legs felt like jelly underneath her as she walked into the center of the chamber. Her lightsaber handle dangled from a loop on her tunic, bumping against a welt on her thigh. She went through the opening rituals, bowing to Master Xan and presenting her lightsaber for inspection. The Master checked the power settings and handed it back to her. Pax bowed deeply in his turn, then presented his weapon with a theatrical flourish. As Iron Hand looked it over, he shot a merry glance at Scout and tipped her the slightest wink. It was impossible not to smile.
I’m glad it’s you,
he mouthed.
    They reclipped their weapons, parted, faced one another, and bowed. “May the Force be with you,” Pax said, and she knew he meant it.
    The murmur of conversation in the chamber died away as Iron Hand held up a small red handkerchief. Now that the horrible waiting was over, Scout was calmer. She felt her attention relax and grow broad, seeping into the whole room. Her breathing slowed down, and she was aware of everyone in the room, even the ones standing behind her back. At the back of the room a door opened, and she felt the presence of Master Yoda, glowing like a lamp.
    Master Xan let the red cloth slip between her fingers. Down it fell, fluttering, dipping, ever slower as time stretched out for Scout and Pax, until at last, gentle as a snowflake, the first edge touched the floor.
    Two lightsabers blazed to life; clashed; whirled; clashed again; held motionless, humming and sizzling in the middle of the room. Pax laughed, and Scout could feel herself smiling back. She felt a little