NOTE: This chapter was written in partial collaboration with Karmack, and a special thanks goes out to him. The Mak'Tor are his creation and are referenced here with his permission.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN: THE MERCY OF THE JEDI (Part 3 of several, likely of 4-5)
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In every war, there were tragedies on both sides. However, there were times when true tragedies came to a side from within themselves. Much was at unrest within the Jedi Order on Coruscant. While the dispute with the Revanchists movement had been largely settled, problems which had lurked in the shadows for some time now were finally beginning to come to light.
The truth had finally come out as to what had happened during the Padawan Massacre on Taris near the start of Republic entry into the war. As it turned out, the Masters in charge of the Jedi Spire there had a collective vision that they believed to be a sign one of their Padawans would turn to the Dark Side and become a Sith Lord that would destroy them all… and so they had chosen to kill the Padawans in an attempt to prevent that from happening.
What they hadn’t anticipated was that one of the Padawans, Master Lucian Draay’s, would survive the massacre, and so the poor thing ended up as the scapegoat, having the whole blame of the situation put on him. Consequentially, the Padawan, Zayne Carrick, had been on the run ever since, trying to clear his name. The situation had brought him to Coruscant.
One thing led to another and the situation culminated with a servant of the Draay estate overriding the weapons systems to a Republic command ship in orbit and firing on the planet below. As it turned out, it was the servant, a failed Padawan, who had been corrupted by the dark side and had begun amassing his own following of Dark Jedi who had been loyal to the Draay Family Estate. When the weapons had been fired on the planet, the Council and several of the Masters and Knights at the Temple had immediately swarmed the scene of the Draay Estate in order to put down the Dark Side uprising.
Needless to say, Master Lucian Draay was expunged from the Council and from the Jedi Order. The wanted charges for the Padawan Zayne Carrick had been dropped and the involvement of the Draay family had been covered in order to keep the reputation of Krynda Draay, who had been one of the greatest Seers and teacher of Seers within the Order, and who had died after being removed from the stasis tank in which the rogue servant had placed her. The official account released to the press was that Mandalorians had hacked the fleet’s weapon systems and launched an attack on the estate, hoping to blind the Jedi and the Republic. The Jedi Order was very thorough about coving up any potential scandals.
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When Revan had heard the news of the expulsion of her former Master, Arren Kae, from the Jedi Order, she had determined that she needed to find the woman before the Revanchists were to leave again for the War. The recent events at the Draay Estate there on Coruscant had caused chaos and disruption among the Jedi there, and the Order and the Republic alike were scrambling for a coverup of the incident, blaming much of the damage on ‘Mandalorian hackers.’ Personally, Revan thought that the notion was ridiculous, and didn’t see how anyone would buy it. After all, the method would have been very un-Mandalorian, but the general population did not know anything of the Mandalorians’ views of honor in battle.
The first place that Revan had thought to seek her former teacher was a public garden that the Master had been quite fond of on the Coruscant skywalk. She had personally preferred it to the Meditation gardens at the Jedi Temple. While the meditation gardens were peaceful, the skywalk garden provided a view that was unparalleled. It sat atop one of the tallest spires in the planet-wide city and allowed visitors to see for miles in every direction on a clear day, or to sit among the clouds themselves on one less so.
That particular day was moderately cloudy. The atmosphere was thinner here due to the altitude, and so it behooved one to remain calm and breathe deeply in order to avoid a lack of oxygen. Master Kae had brought her here many times to meditate, but also for teaching what Revan had learned of Echani dueling. Her reasoning was that, when the air was so much thinner, the body was forced to perform at maximum efficiency in order to not tire out too quickly. One must retain supreme focus and remain true to their body, as was the goal in the Echani martial arts—a pure expression of the body through movement.
She found Master Kae seated on the white stone pavement beneath a tree, deep in meditation, when she approached her.
“Master Kae? May I join you?” Revan asked her.
“You may join me, though I’ve no right to let you call me ‘Master,’” the woman said, her eyes still closed, though she recognized the voice and presence of her former student. “Call me Arren.”
“Arren then,” the younger woman said, sitting facing the former Jedi Master.
“I hear you’ve taken upon a new name yourself, my former apprentice… ‘
Revan’ is what they call you now, is it not?”
Revan swallowed past a lump in her throat. She could not help but to feel guilty for Arren Kae’s current predicament.
“….Master Kae, I’m so sorry…”
“Arren,” she corrected. “And there’s no reason for you to apologize to me. I’d always known that there would be a time when this day would come. That I would not be able to hide
Brianna forever…”
“But thirty years ago, you wouldn’t have needed to hide anything—and you
shouldn’t now…”
“Much has changed since that time, Revan. The Council has done what they have in an attempt to prevent future generations from falling to the darkness the way that so many did then. Whether I agree with their methods or not is unimportant.”
“The timing and severity of all of this though… I cannot help but to think that their punishment was provoked by the emergence of the Revanchist movement… You were my teacher…”
“As were several of the Council Members themselves at one point or another. Master Tokare, Master Dorak, Master Lestin… You had many teachers, Revan. I was but one. You cannot blame yourself for my being outcast.”
A silence passed between the two, the faint hum of air speeders buzzing in the distance from the traffic lanes below. In retrospect, the garden was a rather strange place. It was like a little Eden hidden away from the glitz and the grit that formed Coruscant. Below them, crime lords and politicians alike were at work. People from hundreds of races moved about their daily lives. A crew worked to hastily repair the damages that, according to official media outlets, were caused by ‘Mandalorian hackers.’ And the Jedi went about in their Temple, teaching, meditating, debating politics… But here there was none of that. Here, there was only the sky, the two of them, and their own thoughts and reflections.
“You said her name was Brianna?”
“Yes,” Arren replied, opening her eyes finally. “My own mother’s name.”
“I must say… I don’t quite understand… The rules of attachments have been in place since before I was born… what does it… feel like?”
“To be a mother?... Or to fall in love?”
“Both, I suppose…”
Arren Kae smiled at her pupil’s question. “I’m afraid I’m not a very good example of a mother… I’ve not seen Brianna since she was only a few months old… But I know that she is safe. A mother can sense these things. Such is the bond with her child… She’s ten now. She’s on Eshan with her father and his family…”
Revan was beginning to realize how very little she actually knew of her former Master’s life. She had always been all-business as a pupil, not just while with Kae, but in general, seeking to gain as much knowledge and experience as she could possibly absorb. While she had been apprentice to many, it would have been a stretch for her to claim that she was truly a friend of any of them.
“But surely the Jedi must have sensed something before,” Revan said, “when you were with child.” She’d not encountered many pregnant women before, but in those she had it was possible to sense the new life growing within the Force. It would have been difficult for the Jedi not to sense sooner.
“I had help,” Arren said.
“From whom? From other Jedi?” Revan could see no other way that anyone could have helped with such a thing.
“From the Mak’Tor,” the former Master explained. Revan had heard of the Mak’Tor on Coruscant, but she didn’t know anything of them other than the name. Kae continued: “They are great healers, and while they are in the Jedi, they are not
of the Jedi. I went to them during my pregnancy. They were willing to help me keep my secret… Brianna was born here, on Coruscant. I come to them hoping for help with my rather precarious situation.”
“And they were able to hide your pregnancy?”
“Yes… The healer I had approached—I’ll never forget her—took my case to someone the Mak’Tor referred to as a ‘Master Singer.’ They’re quite a curious group. Their views of the Force are different from what the Jedi are traditionally taught. I asked once to Ta’Lona’Mack (that was her name) to explain it to me…. She described the Force as a song…”
Revan could not help but to laugh at the notion. “I’m sorry… but a song?”
“Yes,” Kae said, quite seriously. “They listen for a song, a sort of undercurrent symphony to all the universe… Some of the Mak’Tor, such as the Master Singer I mentioned, are able to use this song, often for healing rituals…”
“And this healer… this ‘Master Singer’… did they…
sing to you?” Revan had to admit, she was puzzled by the concept. It seemed a bit silly… but, then again, the Force manifested itself in many strange and logic-defying ways. Who was to say it was beyond possibility for these people to hear it as a song? The Miraluka could see. And though the concept was different from what she could understand, why should the Mak’Tor not hear?
“Not exactly,” Arren explained. “The Master Singer presented the healer with a crystal, which she gave to me and told me to keep with me at all times… I’m afraid that I don’t fully understand the finer mechanics of how the remedy worked, but the crystal dampened the appearance of my unborn child in the Force.”
And with these words, a smile crept its way to Arren Kae’s lips. She rested a hand on her abdomen, as if fondly remembering the time.
“I decided that the best way to keep the crystal with me would be to incorporate it into my lightsaber… which I did. So in a way, Brianna has always been with me through these ten years…” Her face fell. “Though the Council asked me to relinquish my lightsaber when they cast me from the Order. I’m afraid the crystal will remain lost to me now.”
Revan felt it was only now that she was beginning to learn anything of the person whom former Master Arren Kae was and had been. She wondered though about her former Master… She pitied the woman. Only thirty years prior, the ‘crimes’ for which she was being punished were not crimes at all. And how, she was deprived of the life she had known, of her home, and of the only remnant she carried of her own child.
“You know, Arren… if you need a place to stay, you’re more than welcome among the Revanchists… It cannot be easy for you to have lost so much so suddenly… Most of the others have chosen to stay at the Temple while we are on Coruscant, but I’ve been staying with the ship we’ve been using… It’s not much, but you’re welcome to call it ‘home’.”
“Thank you,” the elder woman said softly. “It’s kind of you to offer, but I wouldn’t want to be burden to your cause.”
“You wouldn’t be a burden. You could join us… Help us to stop the Mandalorians and to save the Republic… I don’t know what your thoughts are on the matter… But I know that you would be an incredible asset and wise guide to our group. The Revanchists…. Well… We are young. We lack your experience…. You have every right to refuse my offer, but… we need your help, Arren Kae….
I need your help.”
Revan had realized since their movement began that there were difficulties in leadership beyond coordination and protection. She needed a mentor. She needed someone to teach her to assume the role herself.
“Your offer is quite tempting,” Arren Kae admitted. “but you don’t need my help.”
The younger woman looked at the other hopefully, but the expression was hidden beneath the cold and unwavering metal of the mask. “Please. It would bring me much ease to have you there for guidance….”
And while her expressions were not visible, Kae smiled at Revan, understanding the hopefulness in her words and in her aura. “I will consider then,” she stated. “After all, I still owe you an explanation to your second question… though I sense now is not the appropriate time. I wish to meditate a bit longer. I will meet you on this ship later on.”
“Thank you, Master Kae,” Revan said.
“Arren,” she corrected with a smile. “You should rest too. There will be a long journey ahead once the Revanchists leave Coruscant. Perhaps on the way I can tell you more of Yusanis… that was his name.”
Revan nodded silently and stood. “Docking platform 32, the
Stalwart Nightingale… Thank you, Arren. I look forward to hearing your explanation.” And with this, Revan left her former Master in the skywalk garden, the gentle moisture of the clouds dampening her robes and bathing them both in a soft mist as they parted ways.
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Malak had a different aura to him the next time that Revan saw him on Coruscant. Demagol had finally woken from his coma and was being put on trial. Given Malak’s experiences with the scientist on Flashpoint, the court had asked him to testify as to what had happened. The Force seemed to burn around him in a way that Revan had never seen before. Beyond the difference in the force, he was physically different too. Blue tattoos lined the entirety of his scalp. She’d remembered him mentioning the thought of getting them to cover the scars he had as a result of Demagol’s procedures, however, she’d assumed it had been a joke when he had said it.
The sudden changes disturbed Revan in a way that she had not anticipated. What remained of Alex had been burned away. What was left in its place was only Malak. It was strange, really, that it disturbed her so, given the changes which had occurred in herself since the time of the Revanchists. But Malak… Somehow he had always managed to keep an air to him that had reminded her of their time at the Academy on Dantooine. He’d always been the optimist of the two and a sort of positivity radiated through him even when situations seemed at their worst. She supposed that this was why she was generally happier when he was around.
She debated whether to approach him about the situation directly or let him come out with it on his own. She didn’t have to wait long though. Malak slammed a fist on the hull of the
Stalwart Nightingale. Rage. This was the emotion, the aura, that seemed to burn around him. It terrified Revan. She’d seen nothing approaching it from him before. He had always been better at controlling his emotions than she was. For him to be like this…
Something must have happened at the trial… “
Escaped!” he shouted. “I don’t know how it happened, but that monster
escaped!”
“Escaped?” Revan repeated quizzically.
How could Demagol have escaped from Republic custody during the trial? “The court entered recess and when the recess adjourned he was gone! It looked as if someone had switched places with the guards.”
Malak slammed a fist against the hull again, and Revan could not help but to flinch. It was so very unlike him. “Malak calm down…”
“I should have let you
kill him rather than us taking him back to Coruscant! I should never have stopped you!”
“Alex…” she said, hoping to try a different approach to the situation.
Malak laughed ironically. “Alex is dead,
Revanchist! Surely you knew that already. Just like Halin is. Dead and gone!”
The term sounded so vulgar when he had said it, as if he had called her by some obscene profanity. It would seem as if trying to appeal to him as Halin wouldn’t work this time…
“You’re not thinking rationally,” she insisted. “You need to calm down.”
“You of all people are telling me to
calm down!?”
“Yes! Yes, I am! Malak, stop it! This isn’t like you! The Republic authorities must already have people hunting him back down. Demagol is a war criminal and they will not allow him to just be taken like that!”
“I’ll hunt him down
myself!”
“We don’t have time for this. The Revanchists have more important matters to be attending to in this war…”
“He
slaughtered a Padawan, Revan, and tortured and mutilated me! You should have killed him!”
“But I didn’t. You stopped me. You saved me from my anger and confusion then. It’s my job now to do the same for you.” She came behind him, resting a hand on his back. At first he tensed, but then slowly softened into her touch. “I promise everything will turn out right in the end. The authorities will find him and Demagol
will be brought to justice…”
He didn’t answer her, but at least he seemed much calmer now. She stood there, her hand resting on his back for some time before she continued. “I see you finally got those tattoos you were talking about,” she commented, hoping to lighten the situation. “I didn’t think that you were serious about it…. It suits you.”
Malak gave a single laugh. “You think so?”
“Yes, it brings out your eyes.”
“Now I
know that you’re lying to me….”
“No, I mean it. You look nice… I think it’s good for you… Good for you to help you to move on… to ignore the scars of the past… and I don’t just mean the physical ones.”
He turned to look at her, hoping to meet her eyes, but found the red and silver gleam of a Mandalorian mask instead. He had forgotten for a moment, and his heart fell. He’d hoped for a reaction from her. He honestly had… He remembered the way she lit up with laughter when he had half-jokingly mentioned the idea to begin with. He’d had it done before the trial had started, and had hoped, as she’d deciphered, that it would help him to move on from the events of Flashpoint Station… But with the order of events since they’d arrived on Coruscant, his emotions had been a twisted web of confusion, and he no longer knew how to feel about Flashpoint, about Demagol, or about his closest friend.
“Thanks,” he said flatly. “I’m glad you approve…”
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