Avar stopped. It took Elzar a step to realize she wasn’t keeping pace, and he turned to look back at her.

He raised an eyebrow.

She held out her hand.

He took it. Held it up, looked at it, then looked at Avar Kriss, his friend.

The look she gave him was like that sea he found inside himself, the Force, deep and endless and impossible to fully comprehend.

You could drown in it.

“We are Jedi,” he said.

“We are,” she replied.

She looked away, and let go of his hand, and he was no longer drowning, but perhaps some part of him wished he was.

They kept walking.

“They gave me the station,” Avar said.

“What?”

“I have command of the Jedi contingent on the Starlight Beacon. With Master Jora gone, they asked me to take over. I guess I impressed the Council after what happened in Hetzal, and everything after, and…”

“Yes. You are very impressive,” Elzar said, his voice soft.

A little higher on the path, walking through the flames.

“I have work on Coruscant,” Elzar said. “Research in the Archives…what we achieved in Hetzal has given me all sorts of ideas about new ways the light side might speak to us. I know the Council doesn’t always understand the things I try to do, but I’m a Master now. I feel like this is my chance to really demonstrate how useful I can be to the Order.”

“Yes,” Avar said, her voice quiet as well.

“We won’t be seeing each other as often,” Elzar said. “Do you think we got too used to spending time together? Was that a mistake?”

“No,” she said, her voice certain.

“I agree. And we’ll stay in touch.”

“Yes. We can speak whenever we want. Chancellor Soh’s comm relay project will make that easier than ever.”

“Of course,” he said.

They had reached the top of the path, the end of the spiral, where an exit led back to the rest of the station. The sounds of celebration could be heard—dim and inviting.

“Sounds like it’s ramping up. You want to put away a few glasses of whatever they’ve got? I wouldn’t mind dancing, either. Should we go dance, Jedi Master Elzar Mann?”

He wondered what she thought of the look he was giving her just then. If she might be drowning a bit, too.

“I’ll be along in a bit,” he said. “It’s nice here, and I don’t know when I’ll get to see this spot again.”

“All right,” she replied.

Avar hesitated, then smiled, full and open and honest, and walked away.

Elzar watched her go, then turned and looked out at the stars, at the emptiness of space, the deepest sea of all. Below him, the flame-trees churned, rustling and whipping—it was like standing atop an inferno. He let his consciousness roam out into the darkness beyond, looking, looking…