Do you resist your duty, my Padawan? Master Jora’s voice echoed within Reath’s memory, gently amused but pointed, too. Surely that is unworthy of a Jedi.

I want to do my duty, Reath replied in his own head, more clearly than he’d managed to express himself to Master Jora when they’d last spoken. But I feel that my duty is here, on Coruscant, in the Archives.

He reminded himself that if something was telling him he shouldn’t change his life at all, not even a tiny bit, that might not be the Force.

But it might be.

Reath scrunched down in his seat, clinging to his trust in the instincts that told him this entire trip was a bad idea, at least for him. The other three Jedi all looked steady, even serene. He envied them their certainty, their steadfast connection to the Force.

When I’ve passed my trials, Reath mused, I’ll be like them. Steady and sure. With purpose. Without any conflicts or doubts.

Orla Jareni braced her hands on the thickly padded straps of her safety harness. This was rougher transit than she was used to—the kind of thing she’d hoped to find on the frontier and had found even closer to home. She wanted to see it as a good sign, but it was always a mistake to carve omens out of hope, or dread. True omens created themselves and could not be mistaken when they came.

No signs had yet appeared to prove that she’d made the right decision.

Should I take it all back? Orla wondered. The Council wouldn’t begrudge me that. If I tell them I was wrong, then—

Then you’ll break faith with yourself. At least begin. Go back to the origins of it all. Then you’ll know whether you’ve made the right decision.

Or not.

The hood of a cloak could serve many purposes: warmth, disguise, muffling of excess noise, and so on. At the moment of their departure, Cohmac Vitus had his pulled up as a shield. He was working too hard at mastering his emotions to worry about controlling every flicker of feeling that might appear on his face. The turmoil within had to be quieted before he undertook his responsibilities on the frontier.

Volunteering for this had felt like the right move, at the time. Not only was it important work, but it also took Cohmac back to the place where—in his mind—he had ceased to be a student and become a Jedi in truth. The Knighthood trials had been only a formality after the Eiram–E’ronoh crisis.

But whenever Cohmac thought about those events, he had to fight back emotions no Jedi was supposed to experience.

Going back will give you peace, he told himself. You will finally be able to set those feelings aside for all time.

When Cohmac had told himself that on Coruscant, he’d believed it.