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He shoved off from the pillar, an exertion in the Force allowing him to slide forward as though the surface under him were oil instead of rough stone. Chara's thrust cracked into the pillar where his head had been. Ben's kick unloaded into Chara's gut, taking the Kel Dor clean off his feet.

Ben bounced upright, seemingly unslowed, and Chara was up a fraction of a second later. Luke wanted to cheer. He could feel his son's emotions, feel that Ben was in control, intense but focused. Win or lose, he was fighting like a Jedi, not a furious teenager.

Now the fight was on in earnest. The two combatants moved their staves at such speed that onlookers unused to combat could not possibly follow their movements. Theirs was a dance-like rhythm, now one of them the aggressor and driving the other back, now the other. Chara hammered again at Ben's damaged ankle, hurting it further, and Ben now limped as he moved. The next time Chara tried targeting the same injury, Ben leapt clear over the blow and swung his staff at extension, its end catching Chara full on the crown of his head, knocking the Kel Dor down.

“Chara!” That was one of the Baran Do, a female, shouting encouragement. Another yelled, “Chara, kayamash!”

Now Luke no longer bothered to conceal his smile. They were feeling it, these long-dead Kel Dors—feeling blood circulate through their veins, feeling adrenaline pump. Suddenly they were sports fans, rooting for a favorite son.

Ben felt it, too. He looked around, clearly realizing that he was the outsider competing with the beloved champion. It seemed to discourage him not a bit; and Luke felt the moment that the meaning of it all clicked into place in Ben's mind. Now the boy had everything: emotion, focus, and purpose. Ben returned his attention to Chara.

Chara was up fast, but obviously woozy. Ben approached again, limping, an aggressor closing in for the decisive blow.

Luke's attention was drawn to the Hidden One. The Kel Dor ruler was leaning forward, whispering intently to a servant, a young woman. He nodded, encouraging her to act. She moved away around the periphery of the crowd and headed toward the main exit. The blast door opened for her. Luke felt a trickle of danger, but he could not leave these events in order to follow the girl.

Ben and Chara exchanged blows and blocks, feints and ploys at lightning speed. They circled, struck, parried, dodged, all to the percussive accompaniment of staves hammering against each other.

Ben took a glancing blow to the side of his left knee. His riposte caught Chara in the ribs. Chara pinned him against a pillar. Ben shoved Chara clear, feinted with a staff blow, and spun into a side kick that caught Chara in the center of the chest, making an audible crack. Chara slammed to the stone again and was slow to rise.

The chants of “Chara … Chara … Chara …” continued, but the chanters sounded more uncertain, as if not sure they should encourage their champion to take more damage.

In the Force, Luke could feel the change. Ben, hurting from several blows, remained focused, razor-sharp. Chara was losing the will to win.

They came together again. Ben let Chara get inside his guard and lock up his staff. It was not, as it first looked, a mistake of inexperience. Chara yanked, an attempt to disarm Ben, but Ben offered no resistance. Ben's staff went flying, but Chara stumbled backward, off balance. Ben followed, hammering Chara in the chest and stomach with a boxer's barrage of blows. As Chara tried to rally, bringing his staff up, Ben struck at the weapon itself, breaking it in two. The open-palm blow continued onward to crack against Chara's chin.

Chara went down. This time he did not immediately struggle to rise.

The crowd went mostly quiet. A few Kel Dors offered little groans of disappointment.

Ben limped to where his weapon lay. He picked it up and, impassive, turned to face the Hidden One. Ithia moved up to kneel beside Chara, who was moving at last, attempting to rise; she helped him sit up but did not allow him to stand.