“You look good,” he said, smiling as he walked into the room and the door slid shut behind him. “Lots better than the last time I saw you.”

“I can imagine.” Dez ran one hand through his thick black hair. “I definitely feel better. It would be difficult to feel worse.”

“Maybe this wouldn’t be helpful to you,” Reath ventured. “But for me—I’m going to have a vigil for Master Jora. Her body was lost, so we can’t have a pyre. Still, I’m going to light a fire and keep watch. Would you want to join me?”

“I can’t,” Dez said. His voice sounded remote; he didn’t quite meet Reath’s eyes. “Tomorrow I’m leaving for one of the contemplation worlds. I’m taking the Barash Vow.”

The Barash Vow was an extreme commitment to gaining ultimate communion with the Force. Those who took the vow spent years—sometimes even decades—in deep meditation, and in solitude. It was the last path Reath would ever have foreseen for Dez.

“But why?” Reath asked. “The Barash Vow—it’s taken by Jedi who’ve made terrible mistakes. You didn’t! You haven’t broken your connection to the Force.”

“No,” Dez said. “That was broken by the Drengir. The healers have pieced it back together again, but it’s…shaky. The cracks are showing. It won’t hold, not unless I commit myself with all my strength to renewing it.”

“But—” Reath’s voice cracked. “Is that the life you really want?”

Slowly Dez nodded. “You have to understand, the Drengir are profoundly connected to the dark side. The days I spent as their prisoner were days that damaged and tested my connection to the Force. I don’t know that I passed the test. Without you, I might have become their creature—a mindless servant of darkness. That is, if they hadn’t eaten me first.”

“You passed the test,” Reath insisted. “You’re still you.”

“Yes, I am. But there are ways in which that’s not a good thing. I’ve always wanted…action, excitement. I’ve wanted that a little too much. Jedi aren’t meant to please themselves. We’re meant to serve. Service doesn’t mean only doing what you want to do. It means listening to the Force. And I’d stopped listening.” Dez shook his head. “I know what I have to do.”

“I understand,” Reath said. “I’ve been thinking about that, too.” His resistance to the frontier assignment—that had been all about what he wanted. Not about service. Honoring Master Jora with a fire and vigil meant nothing if he didn’t honor everything she’d taught him. By taking the assignment on Starlight, she’d been trying to teach him what service really meant.

I’m learning, master, he thought.

Dez seemed to recognize the impact his words had had on Reath. “What will you do next?”