Enough of that. She knew she had a bad habit of looking only at what was logical and sensible, which obscured the fact that the galaxy was neither.

Orla centered herself in the Force as best she could. Breath in, breath out.

Then, as the serpent lunged open-mouthed toward her again, she jabbed her lightsaber straight forward—burying it in the roof of the serpent’s mouth.

It howl-hissed, a ghastly sound. Through the Force she felt the creature’s pain and knew a moment of pity for it, a mere beast that had only been hunting for food.

I’m sorry, she thought. But “food” is not something I ever intend to be.

When the serpent collapsed, dead, Orla could see Cohmac and Master Laret standing over another dead snake. Cohmac was breathing hard, and even Master Laret looked slightly ruffled.

“We’re clear for now,” Orla said. “Right?”

“I believe so,” replied Master Laret. Her expression reflected none of the immense relief Orla felt at the thought of no more snakes. Instead, grave and thoughtful, she moved closer to her Padawan.

By now, Orla knew what that meant. “What did I do?” she whispered. “I only acted in self-defense.”

“You made no mistakes.” Generally warm and empathetic, Master Laret always tried to reassure her apprentice—but she also always found other things Orla needed to work on. Always. “Yet today you have repeatedly failed to call upon your full training in combat against nonsapient beings.”

I followed my instincts, Orla wanted to say. I stayed alive. I won!

Instead she nodded. “I’ll remember next time.”

Master Laret gave her a rare grin. “Let’s just hope the ‘next time’ is more than five minutes from now, hmm?”

“Definitely,” Orla agreed.

Inside, however, she couldn’t stop thinking, If the Force speaks to me through my instincts…why can’t I listen?

Chapter Twelve

A few short days before, the news that they could safely travel again at last might’ve been cause for celebration. Orla would’ve splurged for a couple of bottles of Toniray wine at their destination—or whatever local vintage they could get—and been the one who got the party started.

Instead she felt nothing. Or, rather, so many emotions were snarled inside her that she couldn’t tell them from each other and was left numb.

“We have unfinished business on this station,” she said to Leox and Geode as she stood in the cockpit with them. From their vantage point, they could see little but an extremely close-up view of the airlock facings; only at the very highest corner could Orla glimpse a sliver of stars. “Including business that can’t really be finished, ever.”