After a long moment, however, Yoda said, “All right. Continue. Much to learn, you have. Use the blindfolds, you must.”

Obi-Wan bowed to Yoda, accepting the order. He knew that Yoda was fully aware of his fatigue. Although he wished that the Master would grant him reprieve, he accepted the wisdom of all of Yoda’s decisions. Great and small.

Obi-Wan tightened his blindfold. He pushed away his fatigue, willed his muscles to obey. He tried to forget that he was fighting Bruck, or that his chance to become a Jedi Knight was almost past. He concentrated instead on the image of the image of the Togorian pirate, it’s orange-striped fur covered by black armor.

Obi-Wan could sense the Force flowing around him, within him. He could feel the living Force in Bruck, the dark ripples caused by Bruck’s anger. His impulse was to match that anger with his own. He had to resist it.

Obi-Wan assumed a defensive stance as Bruck lunged. He let the Force guide him as it had done earlier. He blocked the next blow easily. Then he jumped high to avoid another blow and landed behind a pillar. Lightsabers smashed together, sputtered and burned, then whisked apart. The air felt thicker, clogged with the energy of the battle.

For long minutes, the two students fought as if in a graceful dance. Obi-Wan leaped away from every attack and blocked every jarring blow. He did not try to hit Bruck.

Let him see that I’m not clumsy, Obi-Wan thought bitterly. Let him see that I’m not stupid. Let him see it over and over again.

Sweat began to drench Obi-Wan’s clothes. His muscles burned. He could hardly breathe fast enough to get the air needed. But as long as he did not attack in anger, the Force remained strong with him. He tried no to think about the fight. He lost himself in the dance, and soon he felt so weary, he did not think at all.