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On the screen Daala saw her third Star Destroyer and the skeletal Calamarian star cruiser. It looked ridiculously cumbersome, dragged back by heavy construction frameworks—yet it moved inexorably. Daala understood the suicide tactic immediately.

“Get out of there!”

The Manticore veered to get out of the Startide’s path, but the Calamarian cruiser came on too fast. The Manticore’s turbolaser batteries did nothing to slow its approach.

Daala held her back rigid, forcing herself not to wince. She gripped the cold rail at her bridge station. Her knuckles whitened. The plasteel floor seemed to drop out from under her. Her dry mouth opened in a wordless shout of No!

The Calamarian battleship struck the underbelly of the Manticore. Just before the impact, though, the Startide went nova, erupting into blinding waves of energy that tore the Manticore apart.

Captain Brusc’s transmission cut off abruptly.

Daala turned away, gritting her teeth and refusing to let acid tears of failure well up in her green eyes. She thought of all the weaponry, all the personnel, all the responsibility that had just been destroyed.

She stared into space, blinded by the brilliant double explosion that flowed out behind Calamari’s moon, creating an artificial eclipse.

18

Kyp Durron felt exhilarated, yet foolish at the same time. The other Jedi students had stopped their own exercises and dropped back to watch Kyp at work.

Surrounded by the dense foliage of the jungle, with humid air wrapped like sweat around him, Kyp balanced his body. His feet extended straight up into the air, his back rigid; he held himself upright with one hand resting flat on the rough ground. The heel of his palm sank into the soft dirt. Blades of sharp grass stuck between his fingers.

He could balance himself with less difficulty on a more level piece of ground—but that would be too easy. His dark hair hung around his face; droplets of perspiration ran in tiny trickles along his scalp.

With his free hand Kyp supported a moss-covered boulder he had uprooted from the ground. Clumps of dirt pattered to the grass. He held the rock in the air with only a small effort, using the Force to do most of the work.

Artoo-Detoo bleeped in alarm, chittering from high in the branches above. Kyp had levitated him up there as a warm-up exercise, and he would get the little droid down in good time; for now he maintained his concentration.

He blocked out his awareness of the other Jedi trainees. He let his eyes slit halfway closed as he concentrated and raised a fallen, fungus-shrouded tree limb, yanking it from a tangle of blueleaf shrubs and standing it on end beside him.

Kyp blew out a long, slow breath and concentrated on keeping every piece in its place. The rest of the universe focused around him. Highly attuned, he felt a vibration in the Force, a ripple of amazement and pride.

Master Skywalker had come to watch him.

Kyp knew how to feel the Force, how to use it. It came naturally to him. It seemed instinctive, just as navigating the Sun Crusher through the black hole cluster had been. He felt that he had been ready for this all his life, but he could not see it simply because he had never been shown how to use his abilities. But now that Master Skywalker had nudged him, the new skill came flooding into him as if a long-closed valve had been twisted open.

In little more than a week of intensive work, Kyp had surpassed the achievements of the other Jedi students. Kyp shut himself off from socialization among the trainees. He spoke to few of the others, focusing every moment upon honing his Jedi ability, increasing his concentration, developing a rapport with the Force. He hounded Master Skywalker to give him new tasks, to set him greater challenges so he could continue to learn and grow stronger in the Force.

Now, enclosed by the jungle and observed by other trainees, Kyp did not see his exercises as showing off. He didn’t care whether Master Skywalker watched him or not. He simply meant to push the boundaries of what he could do. After he completed one set of exercises,