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“Everyone except your Master,” he assured her.

Even I’m not sure I can handle him.

Satisfied with Set’s answer, Zannah cracked a glow stick. Guided by its pale illumination, she made her way down the tunnel and into the Stone Prison.

Set watched his new Master’s back, following her progress until she turned around a corner and disappeared, leaving him alone in the small landing bay.

He leaned casually against the Victory’s hull, thinking back on their arrival. He considered himself a pretty good pilot, but he would never have attempted a move like the backward barrel roll Zannah had used to bring them in to land. He knew she was just showing off for his benefit. Still, it had been impressive.

After a few minutes he began to pace restlessly back and forth, kicking at small stones in the dirt. Set didn’t like taking orders, and he didn’t like sitting around doing nothing.

Don’t do anything stupid now. She was talking earlier about how important patience is. This is probably another test.

Obba, his Master before he had left the Jedi, had often encouraged his students to meditate when they had no other tasks or duties. He claimed it centered the mind and spirit. But Set had never been a fan of meditation. He preferred to be doing something—anything—to sitting around in a trance lost inside his own thoughts.

He squatted down and rummaged around on the ground until he had collected five fist-sized stones. He brushed the dust off as best he could, inspecting them for sharp edges that might cut his palms or fingers. Then, satisfied with his finds, he began to juggle, hoping it would help pass the time.

He started with simple tosses, getting a feel for the weight and balance of each stone. Then he shifted into a cascade, the rocks dancing in a circular, looping pattern as they leapt from hand to hand. Next he added in catches behind his back, alternating every other toss front-to-back without ever breaking his rhythm.

Peering around the cavern, he spotted another suitably sized rock on the floor a few meters away. Still juggling, he moved toward it with shuffling steps until he was close enough to slip the toe of his boot under the stone’s edge. A quick flick of the foot sent it high into the air, where it joined the others in his pattern.

He repeated this trick several more times, moving around the cavern in search of more rocks, adding both numbers and complexity to the trick until, upon reaching ten objects being juggled simultaneously, he let them all drop to the ground in disgust.

You didn’t come here to play games.

Zannah had been gone less than ten minutes, and already he was unbearably bored.

She could be gone for hours. You’re not going to make it.

Closing his eyes to help him focus, Set reached out with the Force, probing the area around him. At first he didn’t feel anything; Zannah had disappeared deep into the complex.

Concentrating intently, he pushed his awareness out even farther. Beads of sweat began to form on his brow, but after nearly a minute he began to detect faint signs of life. All living beings were attuned to the Force on some level, and the Jedi had trained him to sense their presence through it. Ordinary people were barely noticeable, as easy to miss as a dim light on a sunny afternoon. Those with power—men and women like Zannah or other Jedi—burned with a much greater intensity.

To his surprise, Set felt several strong, distinct flares as he extended his awareness out. He had expected to sense Zannah and her Master, but they were not alone. It was difficult to say exactly how many others there were, or their precise location; sensing others through the Force was a rather inexact science. But they were definitely there.

And they’re not Jedi.

Those who served the light side had a certain unmistakable aura about them … as did those who called upon the dark side.

Maybe Bane’s already found himself another apprentice. Zannah could be in for a little surprise.

In normal circumstances Zannah would have certainly felt the other presences just as he had, but Set