“Ah, pirates.” Jora Malli shook her head almost fondly. “They never learn.”

The Togruta Jedi Master sat beside her Padawan in their PI-R airspeeder as it swooped through the massive constructions that covered a good third of Coruscant, in pursuit of a pirate skiff. In the decades since the latest building boom had begun on the planet, valuable ores and materials had been shipped and stored there. Tempting stuff, for a pirate. And for many years, stealing a haul and getting away had been far from impossible. Yes, Coruscant was the central world of the Republic, one with a vast security force. But everything about the planet was vast—including its opportunities for concealment and escape.

However, Coruscant was becoming a more ordered place. An even more important place. And already home to the largest of all the Jedi temples in the galaxy.

Which meant Coruscant would be safer than ever before. About time the pirates learned that.

Jora opened her mouth to tell her Padawan what she sensed—that the pirates were going to try to surprise them by swooping upward—but Reath was already guiding the airspeeder up and over the spiderweb of construction beams, toward the brilliant sky.

His strength in the Force isn’t remarkable, not among the Jedi, she thought as she studied her young human apprentice. The wind blew his dark brown hair into even more of a nest than usual. But Reath works harder than almost any Padawan I’ve ever known. He tuned in to my thoughts not through his natural gifts but through effort of will—and he did it faster than the naturally gifted ever manage. He’ll go farther than many of them…perhaps in ways he doesn’t yet understand.

Their airspeeder crested the ridge of construction, and for a brief moment, Jora and Reath were treated to a panoramic view of the glittering structures of Coruscant—many of them crowned with silvery scaffolding but more of them complete, whole and shining. Sunlight streamed through the wispy clouds in the pale sky, painting everything pink and gold. Most beautiful of all, to Jora’s eyes, were the five spires of the Jedi Temple on the horizon.

Then the pirate skiff surfaced from the maze of buildings, its pilot realizing the mistake too late. Reath immediately fired a tow cable. Its magnetic clamp shot out and seized the skiff’s hull.

Calmly, Jora said, “Do you know the engine specs for that skiff?”

“I don’t, Master Jora.” Reath looked puzzled, then dismayed as realization set in. “Oh, n—”

His last word was cut off as the skiff dove desperately toward the ground level, easily overwhelming the airspeeder’s engines and dragging the Jedi down with it.

Reath’s hand went to the control to release the clamp and remained in place, ready to act. He already sensed what Jora had planned, then. She smiled as she braced herself, the rushing wind sending her striped montrals streaming behind her. Her eyes focused on the skiff’s cockpit, on the just-visible silhouette of the pilot so frantic to get away that he might kill them all in the process.

“This is not how it will be,” Jora whispered to herself, and then jumped.

Her leap took her from the airspeeder to the skiff itself; Jora’s boots slammed hard against the cockpit as she ignited her lightsaber. Its blue blade slashed through the air, through the cockpit, slicing a hole. A faint shudder told her Reath had released the cable—perfect timing, she thought. The Force strengthened her grip, allowing her to hang on even as the skiff swerved violently in an effort to throw her free. Reath kept the airspeeder just behind them; what had begun as an accident was now breathtakingly close pursuit.

Jora punched through what remained of the cockpit opening and leapt inside. The pirates were so cowed by her attack—or, perhaps, by her lightsaber—that none of them insulted her by even pulling a blaster. However, the skiff continued plummeting toward the fast-approaching surface. In less than two minutes, they’d be killed in a pulverizing crash.

“Please take the ship out of this dive,” she said, “and report to the nearest docking station for arrest.”

The Rodian pilot hesitated. In that split second, she sensed the anger within him. Did it burn hot enough to make him sacrifice his own life, and that of his comrades, just to take her along?

Maybe.

Jora waved her free hand through the air, a casual gesture. “You want to report to the nearest docking station.”

“We want to report to the nearest docking station,” the pirates intoned in unison, and the pilot obediently took the ship out of its dive. Jora looked over her shoulder to see Reath falling in behind them, his grin as bright as the sunlight above them.

A pity, to take away that smile for a time, Jora thought. But I can’t put this announcement off much longer.

She was able to put it off another hour. It took that long to get the pirates arrested and processed by the appropriate authorities, and to check out the PI-R airspeeder to make sure it hadn’t been damaged. Reath had flown it well in challenging conditions.

He, however, remained focused on his one mistake. “I’ll start on an in-depth study of engine specs tomorrow,” he promised as the two of them strolled away from the station, through the myriad booths and kiosks that made up a kind of permanent street market in the area. A group of Bith, all the way in from the Outer Rim, mumbled over their mugs of Port in a Storm as the Jedi passed. “I’ve already come up with a list of ship models I should concentrate on, if you want to look it over.”

“That’s not our highest priority at the moment.” Jora clasped her hands behind her back. “We’ve spent a great deal of time on Coruscant, you and I. You’ve traveled much less than most other Padawans your age.”

“But we have traveled,” Reath said. “Enough for me to know that the whole galaxy isn’t like Coruscant, and for me to know that I like it here best. Besides, I understood that when you chose me, Master Jora. Not many Padawans are lucky enough to learn from a member of the Jedi Council. Traveling a little less as a result—it’s not that big a sacrifice to make.”

Jora wasn’t letting him get away with that. “It’s no sacrifice at all for you. It would take a gravity well to pull you out of the Archives, some days.”

Reath grinned as he ducked his head. “Okay, fair enough. That’s one of the reasons I’ve always thought we were well matched.”

“I, too. Yet the time has come for each of us to expand our horizons. I’ve taken on a new assignment, one that will lead us far from Coruscant for many years to come. We’ll be traveling to the frontier.”

As Jora had anticipated, Reath’s first reaction was dismay. He half stumbled over the curb in front of the Bilbringi food kiosk. “But—the Council—”

“I’ll soon be leaving the Council for the foreseeable future,” she explained. “This assignment is important enough to justify long-term involvement, and I have volunteered. It’s work that plays to my diplomatic strengths. Still, I wouldn’t have taken this on if I didn’t think it was important for you, too.”

“Why?” Reath blurted out. “How could it be important to leave Coruscant for a—a place in the middle of nowhere—”

“A place where Jedi once gave their lives to protect the people of that area of space,” Jora said. “That is not nowhere. That is worthy of any honor we can give it.”

“Of course. I didn’t mean any disrespect.” His face had paled, which made the freckles on his nose and cheeks stand out. Jora liked it when humans had some face markings of their own. “I only meant that I’ve been working as an archivist, trying to be a good one, and it doesn’t seem like the frontier would need many of those.”

She tilted her head, considering. “You might be surprised. But I intend for you to be more than an archivist, Reath.” More gently, Jora added, “You prefer to concentrate on those areas where you believe effort counts more than talent. But you have more than enough talent for anything you set your mind to—and effort always counts. For any task, in any place.”

“Doesn’t it count more here? Where it does the most good?”

Jora shook her head in fond disbelief. “My first Padawan craved endless adventure. My second one would happily avoid it. What both of you actually needed was the same thing: balance. I found it for him, and I’ve found it for you.”

(At least, she hoped she’d helped Dez find it. Sometimes, hearing of his exploits on Zeitooine and Christophsis, she wondered.)

The depth of Reath’s dismay would’ve been comical if it hadn’t been so heartfelt. That was one thing they never told you about being a master—that sometimes teaching a hard lesson hurt more than learning it. She said, “Tell me, Reath, why can you not cross the Kyber Arch by yourself?”

Reath frowned. “Do I need to?”

Jora didn’t reply. The Kyber Arch stood within one of the vast meditation chambers of the Coruscant temple. Each crystal in the arch was a kyber crystal, one retrieved from the damaged lightsaber of a Jedi fallen in battle. As beautifully as it sparkled in the light, it was a reminder of the price their fellow Jedi had paid in the pursuit of justice over the past millennia. Thick at the bases, the very topmost curve of the arch had deliberately been left extremely narrow, as a representation of the perils the fallen had faced.

Scaling and crossing the Kyber Arch was an advanced meditation technique. Most Jedi never attempted it—only those who felt called to do so by the Force. So if Reath insisted on taking her question literally, he would never have an answer.

Literal he remained. “I mean, I think I could cross it. We’ve made our way across ropes and tethers skinnier than that. Do you want me to try?” Reath looked hopeful again. “If I make it alone, does that mean we don’t have to go to the frontier?”

“Neither you nor any other Jedi has ever crossed the Kyber Arch alone,” Jora said. “Nor will anyone ever do so. When you know the answer why, I believe you’ll understand why we’re headed to the frontier.”

Reath sighed. Frustration practically radiated from him, but he maintained control admirably. He managed to ask, “Where are we going? Specifically, I mean.”

Jora raised her head and looked into the sky as if she could see the stars beyond the sunset. “To the beacon of the Republic,” she said. “To Starlight.”