Star Wars: Lost Stars

Chapter 2: Part 2

When they were fifteen-

"Kyrell!" The E&A - Endurance and Agility - stood over Thane, who lay panting on the ground. "Get it in gear or get out for good!"

Every month, in the preparatory track, they had to run a different obstacle course. Gradually, the courses became more difficult, even dangerous. If would-be cadets broke a limb or gained a scar, it was just proof that they weren't fit to be there in the first place.

Not finishing the course - it didn't get you automatically expelled, but it put you really high on the list of kids who would be first to go.

But his back and shoulders hurt so much. . . .

"Hey." Ciena kneeled beside him. "Come on. Get up."

Thane shook his head. His muscles quivered with exhaustion. Beneath his loose black E&A gear, bruises and guts burned with each movement he made. He'd had less than two hours' sleep. Every muscle ached; his bones felt heavier than carbonite. "I can't"

"Like hell you can't."

He lifted his head from the rubbery red surface of the E&A room to see her kneeling over him. The first their eyes met, Thane realized he wouldn't be able to hide the truth from her. "Last night - my dad-"

Normally Oris Kyrell lectured his sons. Often he caned them, but only for a few strokes. However the night before, his wrath had exploded as never before. Thane had not realized he needed to fight back until he was too injured to do so. His father's punches and kicks had not stopped until Thane was on the floor bleeding. Neither of his parents had helped him up afterward, nor had they acknowledged his injuries in the morning. Apparently they were determined to pretend the incident had never happened.

Bruised and aching, Thane had to bear the truth alone - at least until Ciena's eyes widened in understanding. "You can still do it," she whispered. "You got this far, right?"

"I'll try," he said, between deep gulping breaths. "But you have to get back on the course. Your losing time."

"I'm ranked number one in E&A, remember? I can afford to lose a few minutes. And I swear to you right now, Thane Kyrell, if I have to pick you up and carry you to the end of the course, I will."

"I appreciate the offer, but I don't think that counts."

More students ran past them, vaulting over the next high barrier, with only a few grunts and groans from those who had touched the sharp edges. These were the slowest kids, or close to it. Ciena would finish last, and Thane didn't expect to finish at all.

He rolled over to look her in the face so maybe she'd see how deeply he meant it. "Go!"

Ciena only leaned closer. "Thane - don't let your father win."

Hatred of his father did what hope couldn't. Fueled by pure spite, Thane struggled to his knees, then to his feet. Though he staggered at first, he managed to catch himself.

"Ready to run?" Ciena began bouncing on her heels, eager to get moving.

"Yeah." Thane took a deep breath. "I'm ready."

Somehow he hurled himself over the barrier. Although Thane made it to the end in last place - he made it.

Afterward, in the privacy of the gear room, he sat on the bench, carefully stripped of his shirt, and let Ciena see the worst of it. The shame made his face burn. Even though he knew he wasn't the one who ought to be ashamed . . . here he was, showing Ciena how he let himself get beaten until the skin of his back split open.

If she pitied him or said she felt sorry for him, Thane thought he might have to walk out.

But Ciena said nothing. Silently, she opened the first-aid kid and set to work applying curative skin sealant, closing each cut one at a time until Thane felt whole again.