Honesty woke to Avon standing over him. The brown-skinned girl watched him like he was some kind of lab specimen, her brows pulled together and her lips pursed in puzzlement. It was disconcerting, and Honesty scrambled into a sitting position, limbs floundering as he struggled upright.

“What?” he said, an unmistakable edge to his voice. Was there something wrong with his face?

“You were crying,” she said simply, completely unruffled by his sudden flailing.

“So? That doesn’t mean you need to watch me like that.”

She shrugged, the movement fluid. “I wasn’t sure if you were awake or asleep, though, so I was trying to figure it out before I did anything. Anyway, you don’t have to be embarrassed about crying. It’s perfectly normal. You should be glad I found you and not one of the Jedi, otherwise they would’ve given you a lecture about the Force and tried to make you meditate.” Avon made a face. “Do you know how many times Vern has made me just sit there, counting my breaths and visualizing light? No, thank you.”

Honesty said nothing, and eventually she threw her hands up. “Anyway, we’ve landed on a moon, and you managed to sleep through it. It’s hot and humid and pretty awful, and we still might die, but at least it won’t be in space.”

And with that she turned on her heel and exited by way of the boarding ramp, which let in sunshine that made Honesty’s eyes water with its intensity.

He didn’t follow her right away, but instead gave himself time to collect his thoughts. The girl made Honesty nervous. It wasn’t just that she was smart and self-assured; it was that she was reckless. She didn’t think about rules the way everyone else did. The one thing Honesty loved was guidelines. There was an order to things, and Honesty was overjoyed once he learned where those limits lay. There was a comfort in order, and like most Dalnans he hated chaos. This entire trip had been one catastrophe after another, and the last thing he needed in his life was someone like Avon Starros, who seemed to be a chaos magnet, one of those people who not only sought out pandemonium but welcomed it into their lives and rained it down on everyone around them.

It wasn’t that Honesty was blaming Avon for everything that had happened to the Steady Wing, but he did think that the sooner he could get away from the girl, the better.

If you judge someone by your expectations instead of their actions, you will always be disappointed.

Honesty swallowed hard at the sudden memory of his father. Ambassador Weft had always urged his son to be more patient, especially in his judgment of others. A lump formed in Honesty’s throat as he realized that his father would never chide him again.

Honesty took a deep breath and steadied himself. He would give Avon Starros and the rest of his companions a chance. He would not make snap judgments. His father might be gone, but Honesty could honor his memory by taking his advice to heart. Which was why he stretched and stood up, shoulders squared, as he marched out to face what the day would bring. He would not let a setback set him back, as his father had always warned.

Honesty peered into the blinding brightness of the day just beyond the door to the shuttle. He blinked as his eyes watered more, adjusting to the light. Once they did he stared in wonder at the area around him. They’d landed on the edge of a clearing in gently waving yellow grass that was nearly waist-high. But just a little ways beyond the field was a dense jungle. Vines as thick as Honesty’s arms wrapped through the canopy of trees, which were strange with their wide leaves and smooth white trunks. Small creatures flew in between the trees, their fur jewel-hued and vibrant. The sky was a faint lavender hue, and a giant brown-and-orange-striped planet hung there, looming over it all, making him feel small and unsure. Honesty had never seen anything like it, and he stared until someone rested a hand on his shoulder.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” Imri said with a small smile. “The only place we could land the shuttle was here, but we think that this might be a floodplain. Vern wants to hike through the jungle to see if there’s higher ground that might be safer just in case we get a storm.”

Both of the Jedi had stripped off their tabards so they wore only ivory trousers and tunics with pale brown boots. Vernestra’s lightsaber hung off a holster on her hip, while Imri held his clutched in one meaty hand that made the weapon look like a toy. They appeared capable and ready, and Honesty felt the exact opposite.

“She wants to go in there?” Honesty asked, failing to conceal his fear. It was a good idea to find higher ground, and something his survival instructor back on Dalna would have urged, as well. But the jungle was formidable. Very little light permeated the thick canopy, so the area between the trees looked impossibly dark and ominous. It didn’t seem very safe. Was part of adventuring making the worst possible decision, just throwing oneself into danger? No wonder most Dalnans had absolutely no need for travel. It kept getting worse and worse.

“We’re going to walk along the outside,” Vernestra said, walking back toward Honesty to answer his question. “If you look you can see how this grass makes a bit of a road? That probably means this area becomes a river during heavy rains. Those trees have very dense leaves and the air here is very humid. If I listen closely I can feel the animals thinking about resting and the plants talking about burying their roots to not get swept away, so that most likely means heavy rainfalls are a regular thing here. High ground is going to be our best, safest bet.”

Honesty looked around the moon, taking in the landscape once more. The Jedi got all that from some grass, a few trees, and some rainbow-hued animals? He felt annoyed at being so unprepared and also a little in awe of her abilities. Unless of course she was making it all up, but he didn’t want to say that.

“Here.” Avon thrust a knapsack at Honesty. “This one is for you.”

He took the bag and peered at it curiously. “What is it?”

“It’s food and a few other supplies,” she said. Honesty noticed his bag was slightly smaller than the one Avon wore, and the droid had no knapsack at all. Before he could ask what was in her bag, Avon continued, “We’re going to take everything with us and hopefully find someplace to settle in for the night, and then tomorrow me and Vern will come back here and make sure the emergency beacon is activated.”

“You discussed all of this while I was asleep?” Honesty said, feeling left out.

“Your dad died,” Avon said bluntly.

“Avon!” Vernestra exclaimed. “Please, be more sensitive.”

The girl looked a bit confused at the admonishment. “The philosopher Grat Resa’s treatise on mourning says acknowledging the passing of a loved one is important to the healing process. The other part of the grieving process is getting enough rest. Loss can be emotionally draining. You sleeping was a good thing for your body. It wasn’t personal.”

“Science cannot replace empathy, Avon,” Vernestra said softly, and Avon adjusted her pack in discomfort.

“Oh.” She turned to Honesty, who was really trying very hard not to say something to the girl that he would later regret. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I was trying to help.”

Honesty nodded numbly, because her kindness was somehow worse. “Thank you.”

“Are we ready?” J-6 asked impatiently. “My sensors indicate that there is a twenty percent chance of rain, and that will continue to increase as the day goes on. And I do not like mud.”

“Well, then let’s be off,” Vernestra said brightly, clearly wanting to put the moment behind her. Honesty wanted to dislike the older girl. She was a bit bossy, but there was something warm and approachable about her. She smiled all the time. As much as Avon made him a little bit uncomfortable, Vernestra made him ready to follow her every suggestion. It was strange, but Honesty did not consider the feeling too deeply. He reminded himself he was always too quick to judge, and he resolved once more to try to keep an open mind. Not that it would be easy.

Anyway, it wasn’t like he could just decide to ditch them. He was stuck with the three from Port Haileap until they made it off the moon.

And after that? Home. All Honesty wanted was to go home, where it was safe and predictable.

Their group began to walk, Vernestra leading the way. Imri maneuvered so that he was the end of the line, but Honesty couldn’t feel safe with the other boy walking behind him—he looked terrified. If Honesty had been in a more magnanimous mood he might have asked the Padawan if he was okay, but Honesty was a bit tired of things just happening to him. He felt as though the current of life had been carrying him along, first pushing him to leave his home and board the Steady Wing and then putting him on a collision course with danger. He itched to forge his own path, but even when he’d tried to do that with his warrior training he’d ended up on a diplomatic mission instead of undergoing his Metamorphosis.

But now was definitely not the time to make grand statements. He feared what might happen. The Jedi were supposed to have some kind of supreme power on their side, and whether Honesty believed that or not, the Jedi did; so he figured it was safer to follow them than to try to strike out on his own.

Their group began to walk, and time folded in on itself. Honesty watched the glimmer of the droid in front of him, Avon poking at unusual trees along the way and J-6 trying to avoid especially treacherous puddles as they walked. For a while he was able to convince himself that he was on yet another training exercise for his outdoor group, but after about an hour of walking, he found it hard to think about anything but how much he didn’t want to be on that random moon with people he didn’t know and a droid who seemed to have her own agenda.

A bit of movement from his left drew Honesty’s attention, and he turned to peer at the shadows beneath the broad-leafed trees. He squinted into the gloom, his feet stopping as he did. Imri walked into his back, and Honesty flailed to keep his balance.

“Hey, sorry about that,” the Padawan said, color rushing high into his cheeks.

“It’s okay. Do you see that?” Honesty asked, pointing toward where the low-hanging branches of the trees moved as though they’d been disturbed.

“See what?”

Honesty watched the spot where he’d seen the movement. He could have sworn he’d seen something bright, magenta-hued, much brighter than even the rainbow-furred primates that jumped from tree to tree. But whatever it had been was gone now.

“Nothing. Never mind,” Honesty said.

They continued walking.

After what felt like hours of walking, the landscape looked exactly the same. The trees still pressed close to one another, and the floodplain they’d been walking across hadn’t gotten any wider or narrower. The only thing that had changed was the angry clouds forming on the horizon, which now boiled a dark gray, streaks of pink-purple lightning lancing the sky every other heartbeat.

“Should we maybe try inside of the trees?” Honesty asked. He looked back the way they’d come, but the shuttle was too far away to see, a testament to just how far they’d traveled, even if they still walked across the flatter grassland of the floodplain. “We might have a better chance of finding some kind of shelter in there.” He didn’t like how they were exposed on the floodplain. That flash of bright pink stuck with him, and the more Honesty thought about it the more he kept thinking maybe he’d seen someone. It was possible, right? The Jedi had said that no one survived the Steady Wing disaster, but someone could have survived. They could have crashed their shuttle on the moon just like Honesty’s group had. Maybe.

Hopefully.

“Honesty is right,” Avon said, peering at the horizon. She stopped, taking off her knapsack and opening it. She removed a set of goggles and put them on. Honesty had no idea where the girl had gotten them, but he’d seen similar sets on the infantrymen who trained in and around the military compound on Dalna. They were usually connected to scout droids who ranged out far ahead of their users to survey an area.

Avon turned slowly in a circle, and everyone stopped to watch her. “Local readings indicate that a storm will be breaking in the next few minutes, and we’re going to be soaked if we don’t find shelter.”

Vernestra put her hand on her hip. “Where did you get those?”

“While you and Imri were landing the maintenance shuttle, I went ahead and searched through the tool kit. And since I am the obvious choice for science officer on this trip, I liberated these,” Avon said before pushing the goggles up so they rested on her forehead.

“What else did you take?” Vernestra said, a thread of exasperation evident in her voice. Honesty did not know the Jedi very well, but judging from the color high in her green cheeks she was definitely agitated. Did Jedi get annoyed? Honesty didn’t know, but he found the whole idea very interesting.

“Just this little guy,” Avon said, pulling a small round droid from her bag. It was small enough to fit in the girl’s hand, but just barely. Now Honesty knew why her bag had looked so much heavier than everyone else’s. She’d been carrying a scout droid all that time. Honesty didn’t know whether to be impressed, as scout droids were heavy and Avon hadn’t once complained about the pace, or to be even more wary of the girl. She had managed to confound even a Jedi, and as far as Honesty understood things, they knew everything.

“Avon,” Vernestra began, but the girl cut her off with a wave of her brown hand.

“Don’t be mad, Vern. I wanted to give you and Imri a chance to use the Force before I fixed our problems with science,” Avon said, pushing a small button and activating the droid. The ball unfolded, revealing a small flying droid with four clawlike appendages and two large sensors that looked like eyes. It flew up into the air, hovering next to Avon and beeping a series of high and low tones that Honesty couldn’t decipher. There weren’t many droids on Dalna; the settlers there tended to rely on their own devices, and droids were expensive. But Honesty had seen scout droids like this one before, and something in him loosened at the familiar sight.

Avon tilted her head as though she were listening to what the droid was telling her. “Little Essdee here only has about half a charge, and he’s already assessed the landscape to find that higher ground will be that way.” She pointed directly into the jungle. “So, score one for science.”

“The Force and science aren’t at odds,” Imri said, his half-surprised, half-annoyed expression a match to how Honesty was feeling. If Avon had just brought the droid out before they started walking they might have found shelter hours ago.

“No, but no one wanted to walk into that,” Avon said, still pointing toward the dense jungle. “So, following this path across the floodplain allowed us all to realize that the only correct path was the least desirable one.”

Vernestra blinked. “I dislike how much sense that makes.”

“It does feel . . . logical,” Honesty said into the heavy silence.

“The appearance of reason does not automatically make something reasonable,” J-6 said, her arms crossed. “But in this case Avon makes a strong argument for not waiting around to get soaked. I am still not enamored of mud.”

“Great, so, into the trees, then?” Avon asked brightly. There was a slight tremor to the girl’s hands that belied her cheerful demeanor. She was scared, just like Honesty was, but she hid her fears behind logic and procedure. “Vern, I think you and Imri should probably lead the way.”

Vernestra nodded and pulled out her lightsaber, Imri doing the same. Her lightsaber lit up a bright purple, while Imri’s was a blue so pale it was nearly white.

“Are you still having problems with your lightsaber?” Vernestra asked, and the boy shrugged.

“Douglas says—said—that it should work itself out if I keep working on it. It’s just not as strong as it should be, but it should cut through plants.” He seemed embarrassed by the confession, and Honesty made a mental note to ask the Padawan about his lightsaber later. It could be a good chance to get to know him better.

The two Jedi began hacking at vines and low-hanging branches, trying to clear a way through the dense underbrush and forge a path through the jungle. Small animals fled in every direction, their chittering cries nearly drowning out the sound of thunder in the distance.

Honesty swallowed dryly and tried to ignore the overwhelming sadness that threatened to bury him. The Jedi had the Force to rely on and Avon had her science, which made Honesty wonder, just what did he have? How was he going to survive this ordeal?

“Hey, I grabbed one for you, too,” Avon said, sidling up to Honesty. She held a very small blaster, the metal gleaming with ominous purpose. “Just in case.”

“Thank you. Umm, do you know how to use it?” Honesty took the blaster and slid it into the pocket of his khaki trousers after making certain it was set to safe mode. He might not have science or the Force to rely on, but he had spent the past five years of his life preparing to be a combat medical officer.

Avon grinned. “I read the instructions.”

Honesty grimaced. “Can I show you how to be safe with it?” he asked, and Avon brightened.

“Yes, that would be excellent,” she said. At first he thought maybe she was being sarcastic, but when she looked at him expectantly he realized she was sincere.

No, Honesty might not be a Jedi, and he might not be a science genius, but he had training, the kind of lessons that no one else in their group could boast. He would use every bit of knowledge he could to survive this mission, this adventure. And maybe by sharing that knowledge he could make his father proud.

It was the first time Honesty had felt optimistic since the destruction of the Steady Wing, and he clung tight to the emotion and hoped it could get him through the day.