Secret Talks

"You're in a good mood," Kirk said, walking over to her. Without so much as asking, he picked up the Flying Rhino Milk and took a sip. "Ptooey!" He spat it out. "That tastes awful."

"If someone dumped you on a desert planet about to be destroyed and gave you only one bottle of water a month, you'd find that any drink was a unique delicacy." The woman's voice came through a voice modulator, sounding ethereal. But Kirk could still hear the world-weariness in the words of his familiar companion.

"You've had a rough time." Kirk thought about his own past month. He had spent every day meditating and practicing swordsmanship in the spotless Jedi headquarters, eating nutritious space delicacies from across the systems and drinking the finest beverages the galaxy had to offer. Although the Jedi advocated restraint and the suppression of all kinds of emotion, they placed no restrictions on fine food and drink. If anything, they gave their homeless and familyless warriors extra compensation.

"It was nothing." The woman discreetly flicked a finger. A glass of blood-red Heart of Stone from the Monro System—a specially processed form of lava—floated slowly over from a distance.

Kirk's understanding of the Force was enough to recognize that she was using the purest Dark Force.

"You've made quite a bit of progress." Kirk grinned as he took the Heart of Stone, which she had kept perfectly steady, and took a sip. "That's really good."

The woman's clear voice said, "I've received a mission."

"A difficult one?" Kirk took a sip. "Let's hear it."

"Darth, the Sith Emperor—in other words, Chancellor Palpatine—has issued the third trial of this assessment. He said it would be the last one."

"Damn, none of us have even become Jedi Knights yet, and you've already been given