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“I’d like that.”

That they had just met officially yesterday and moved immediately into a relationship was, of course, perfectly normal for Sullustans. The old joke was that Sullustans seldom got lost, and they could always find the nearest bedroom…

Eyar stood, did a quick dewflap wipe, and smiled broadly at Den. “How do I look?”

“Best-looking fem for fifty parsecs,” he said.

“Probably the only one,” she said, “but I’ll take it.”

She started to leave. It was about as perfect as it could get, as far as Den was concerned. Nice to know he still had the moves.

Eyar paused at the door, looked back, and smiled. “You remind me of my grandfather—he was such a sweet masc.”

Then she was gone, and Den was left with his mouth gaping and his dewflaps sagging. Her grandfather! Could have gone all month without hearing that …

22

Barriss tried to practice her lightsaber drills, but she just couldn’t seem to narrow her focus. Her timing was off, her balance, her breathing—everything. Even the simplest sequences felt as if she were encased in a tight-fitting metal shell, barely able to move.

She had found a dry patch of ground, so at least she wasn’t standing ankle-deep in mud, but that didn’t help much. She relit the blade and started a basic centerline parrying sequence. The ozone smell and power hum of the lightsaber were familiar, but not comforting.

Someone was approaching.

Though no one could walk without making noise in the mud and dead vegetation, the buzzing of the energy blade made it difficult to hear snapping twigs, squishing mud, and other quiet warnings. Fortunately, she didn’t need such aids. Barriss shut off the lightsaber, hooked it to her belt, and turned to face Uli.

He grinned at her. “Boo.”

She grinned back. “We have to stop meeting this way. Out collecting flare-wings for your mother again?”

“Trying to…the cold seems to have wiped out all those inside the dome. No luck today. Y’know, even though it was a pain in the posterior, I kinda miss the snow.”

Barriss nodded. She felt the same way. Though it wasn’t even midmorning yet, the tropical sun had already laid its hot hands on the camp. Even the osmotic weave of her robe wasn’t enough to keep her cool.

“So, what’s with your practicing? You seem…”

“Stiff? Tight? Unattuned?”

He nodded. “I was gonna go with off your game, but those’ll do. It’s not your foot, is it?”

“No. That’s healed.”

He nodded. “Good. Anything I can do to help?”

“Offering me a massage, Uli?”

He blushed. She found that charming. Then, abruptly, she decided to talk to him about her problem—in general terms, at least. He was a doctor, and good-hearted. Besides, she had about come to the conclusion that any help now would be better than none. And the boy might have something constructive to say. Out of the mouths of children, and all that…

She said, “How much do you know about the Force?”

He looked somewhat surprised. “Almost nothing,” he said. “The few Jedi I’ve run into haven’t talked about it. I mean, I know the medical theories about midi-chlorians being the organelles that somehow generate the connection and all, and I’ve heard the usual wild stories about it, but as to how it actually works and what it really is—” He shrugged.

She nodded. “Actually, the Force may create midi-chlorians, sort of as its conduits into our continuum, rather than the other way around. They’re isomorphic on every world that has life. The Force, it appears, truly pervades the galaxy, if not the entire universe.

“But, when all is said and done, the Jedi don’t really know how it actually works and what it really is, either. We know how to connect to it, how to channel it, but in a lot of ways we’re like primitives standing on the bank of a rushing river. We can put our hands in it, even wade in and try to swim, but we don’t know where it comes from—only that it exists, and that it is bound to life and consciousness more deeply than the quantum level.”

He nodded slowly, waiting