Print Page - Only Light Can Cast Shadow (A KotOR AU FanFiction) (Part I)

PROLOGUE

My name is Halin Chan, and I was born on Deralia, a small planet on the Outer Rim. My name and family ties are unimportant, or so I’ve been told. I remember having a mother, a father, an older brother… but the details are hazy. Occasionally I think I can see them in the odd dream, though truth be told, I’ve long forgotten what they look like. I was so young when I was brought here that I remember quite little of my life before coming to the Jedi Enclave on Dantooine for training.

It was nearly eighteen years ago when Master Sana found me on my home planet and convinced my parents to give me to the Jedi Council for training. My story is not particularly unusual. After all, nearly every child brought to be trained in the ways of the Force can tell you quite a similar tale, though some were old enough to remember more details of their past than others. Contact with family is discouraged, as are the emotional bonds that can easily form from such. Since I was too young to read or write at the time, the contact ceased immediately.

I can only assume that this was for the better. After all, it is easier to liberate oneself from base passions if they never existed to begin with. Such is the code of the Jedi:

There is no emotion; there is peace.
There is no ignorance; there is knowledge.
There is no passion; there is serenity.
There is no death; there is the Force.

I’ve been taught, for as long as I can recall, to live and to breathe and to die by this code. My thirst for knowledge has been particularly noted by my Masters. I hardly find this aspect of myself to be unusual. After all, when one is surrounded by the wisdom of so many ages, how can one not become curious? This was an aspect of my character which had originally attracted Master Sana. While I do not personally recall the meeting first-hand, she has told me of it before. My curiosity combined with affinity and sensitivity to the Force allowed me to learn far more quickly than the average child of my age, and it was this that caused her originally to believe she could teach me.

“You have a great destiny about you, child,” she tells me. “What you choose to make of it, when your time comes, will send ripples throughout the galaxy—ripples in the Force that will be felt for many years to come. However, you must beware not to take things at face value. After all, there is always more to our surroundings than what can initially be seen.”

Whether great destiny or not, my life as a Jedi is to serve. I believe that our teachers tell us such things, particularly when we are young, and that we choose to believe them in order to see ours as a ‘noble’ cause. It makes our otherwise seemingly irrational way of life have a greater purpose and meaningfulness.

At the age of ten, I was granted the rank of Padawan, the lowest rank among those who had been fully accepted into the Jedi Order after their apprenticeship. Not every child taken into apprenticeship can get so far. In fact, if they cannot attain the rank of Padawan by thirteen, they are generally decided to be unfit for further training and are sent into public service elsewhere.

Such was the case of a girl named Rahala Santra, who was six years older than me, and unable to complete the Jedi Initiate trials. As was tradition, she was sent into public service on Telos as an alternative. We had been friends, and so we have kept occasional contact since then. The last I heard, she was engaged to be married—a life certainly different than she would have found in the Jedi order. That was several years ago though, and I’ve not heard from her since. Perhaps her own fate will be greater served in this way. The Force, after all, acts in mysterious ways.

When I was granted the rank of Padawan, Master Sana immediately requested to be assigned as my Master. Given her interest in me since a young age, it seemed only natural. And so, with the Council’s permission, I began to further train in the ways of the Force under the mentorship of Master Sana.

I feel that the two of us are quite a fit for one another. Where I am terribly eager to learn about the Force, Master Sana is equally as eager to teach. The basics of combat, diplomacy, meditation, and the like came quickly. They were short lessons at the beginning of my training. However, what made Master Sana unique compared to the other Masters was her willingness and even encouragement for me to seek knowledge from outside sources, and to seek self discovery.

The other Masters seemed to grow wary of her teachings for this reason, though why they would somewhat eludes me. In my own understanding of the Jedi code, I have come to accept that a Jedi should seek all knowledge. Without it, how are we to truly grow to fully understand the Force and all of its facets? I’ve heard some say such teachings can lead to the dark side… but is the Jedi code not the path to resisting the darkness that exists inside of us all?

CHAPTER ONE: THE YOUNG KNIGHTS OF DANTOOINE

   Many Jedi lined the walls of the Council Chamber within the walls of the Jedi Enclave of Dantooine. The Council of Dantooine was in full assembly, and eager Padawans stood watching their comrades as they approached the Masters one by one. Apprentices who had not yet become Padawans looked on excitedly as they watched the ceremony take place. A young human woman with blond braids pinned neatly atop her head approached the Masters and kneeled before them.

   “By the right of the Council, by the will of the Force,” one Master spoke as he passed the green blade of his saber over each of her shoulders, “Opela Moraf, you may rise.”

   The young woman rose and stepped aside, taking her place apart from the others as another Padawan came forward. The process repeated, a different Master leading the knighting this time. “…you may rise.” The Padawan stepped aside as the next came forward, this time, a woman with wild raven hair pulled back out of her face and piercing eyes. She knelt before the Council and a Twi’lek Master came forward, passing his pale blue blade over each of her shoulders.

   “By the right of the Council, by the will of the Force, Halin Chan, you may rise.”

   Halin rose and took her place among those recently knighted, next to Opela Moraf. Opela was Halin’s elder by three years. She was a polite woman and made friends quite easily, but she was also quite… complacent. Not that there was anything wrong with following orders from one’s superiors, but it seemed odd how she would often choose the path of the follower when many of the Masters saw opportunity in her natural abilities for a great leader. Opela, however, seemed to be content with this. Her greatest desire was to serve and inspire as a teacher, rather than in other affairs. In this way, her choice to follow the path of the Jedi Consular seemed rather fitting.
   “By the right of the Council, by the will of the force, Alex Khaar, you may rise.”

A towering man with a shaved head who had been kneeling before the Council rose and took his place among the others. Alex was the same age as Opela, but had become a Padawan with Halin. He had never been much of one for popularity among his peers, but what he lacked in social adeptness he made up for in his skill with a lightsaber. Alex was one of the most skilled among the Dantooine youth with the blade. His sheer size granted him a certain level of brute strength which gave him an advantage in that regard and made him an excellent Jedi Guardian.

He and Halin had grown to be great friends during their training. The two had the same insatiable thirst for knowledge and helped each other to make up for their flaws. Halin was the more clever of the two, and often assumed the role of the leader among the pair. She had chosen to follow the path of the Jedi Sentinel. She was significantly smaller than her companion though, and so Alex was generally the brawn to her brains.

Eight Padawans in total knelt before the Council on Dantooine that day. Each rising as a Padawan no more, but as having been granted the title of Jedi Knight. When the ceremony had ended, each Master went to congratulate their former Padawan. Master Sana approached Halin.

   “I congratulate you, Halin Chan, on attaining the rank of Jedi Knight. You have grown beyond your apprenticeship to me, but know that you may seek me at any moment you feel you have need for my wisdom or consultation. Remember what I have told you. Always seek the truth for yourself. There are those even within the Order whose intentions are not always what they might first seem. Be mindful of this, young one. For I feel it will lead you down the path to discover your own greatness.”

   “Thank you, Master Sana,” Halin said with a bow to her former Master. “I assure you that I will not forget your teachings.”

   “Good,” Master Sana replied. “You have been the most brilliant of my students. Your destiny lies ahead of you now that you have joined the ranks of the Jedi Knights. Now if you will excuse me, I have matters I must attend to.”

   “Of course, Master Sana,” Halin replied. And the Jedi Master departed from the room. It was then that Halin felt a hand ruffle her hair and looked up, trying to shield her head with her own hands. It was Alex. “Hey!” she protested, laughing a bit. “What was that about?”

   “Aren’t you going to congratulate your old friend? Or does being a Jedi Knight mean you’ve moved above talking to losers like me now?” He went to ruffle her hair again, but this time she caught his hand and punched him lightly in the chest.

   “Of course it doesn’t, you nerf-herder. Congratulations! You’ve earned it—we all have. Now about our bet…”

   “Our bet?” Alex said, seemingly confused. “What bet?”

   “About who would be knighted first.”

   “We were both knighted at the same time…. Doesn’t that make it a draw?”

   “Well, technically speaking, I was knighted exactly one person ahead of you, which makes me the winner.”

   “Wait… but that’s not fair! I let you go ahead of me in line!” Alex protested.

   “That’s your own fault,” she said with a smirk. “Next time you should think ahead. Now pay up.”

   Alex leered at Halin—an expression to which she replied by batting her eyelashes in an attempt to feign innocence as she held out her palm to claim her reward.

   “Are you crazy!?” he whispered, glancing around briefly. “Later. What would the Masters think?”

   She took her hand away and shrugged. “That you’re a fool? Don’t take things so seriously, Alex. Loosen up a little. We can settle this later if it would make you feel better.”

   “Thanks,” he said dryly.

   “Oh, stop being such a crybaby. We’re supposed to be celebrating right now! Now go congratulate Opela.”

   “Why should I do that?”

   “Because it’s good manners, and if you want people to more openly interact with you, then it’s a good place to start,” Halin explained, nudging him a little.

   Alex groaned.

   “Is there a problem here?” came a voice from behind.

   Halin and Alex spun around to see one of the Masters on the Council watching them with his arms folded, a rather disapproving expression set upon his facial features.

   “Of course not, Master Lamar,” Halin chirped. “Alex and I were just shooting the breeze, congratulating each other and what not. Nothing to get worked up about.”

   Master Lamar raised an eyebrow quizzically. “Miss Chan, do you mean to make a mockery me?”

   “Of course not! Why would I think of doing such a thing?”

   “Because you don’t seem to be taking me very seriously…”

   “I?” she gasped. “I would never dream of it! Now, uh… If you’ll excuse me, Master, I really must get going. I promised one of the locals I would take a look at their droid. Apparently it’s had some glitches since the last memory wipe.” And with this, she bowed out and headed swiftly to the exit.

   Alex made a move as if to follow her, but Master Lamar stopped him. “Be mindful of that one,” the Jedi Master told him. “She is too headstrong and proud of herself. Her Master was always too liberal with her teachings and only encouraged this behavior from her pupil. I fear miss Chan’s defiant nature may lead her down the path to the dark side. Do not allow her to have negative influence on you.”

   “I will keep your words in mind, Master Lamar.”

   “Good. I must continue in offering my congratulations, so I leave you to meditate on this.”

   Alex looked after where Halin had gone. He somehow doubted that she was really headed to help some farmer with their droid, but that was just who Halin was—always rushing off on some sort of new ‘adventure.’

   “Congratulations, Alex!” came a feminine voice from behind him. It was Opela. Alex froze for a moment.

   “Congratulations,” he murmured back, hesitating before turning around fully to look at her. Opela was a rather beautiful human female. She had hair as gold as the Tatooine sands and eyes that were the same pale blue of a Guardian’s blade. Though he had taken the oath of a Jedi, Alex was not blind to her beauty. Her image made him feel things that he knew were forbidden.

   There is no emotion; there is peace….

   “The same to you,” he finally managed to reply. Alex was generally the strong quiet type. He didn’t talk to many of the other Jedi, with the exception of Halin. She generally did the talking of the two and he would sort of follow her lead. Right now, however, he couldn’t rely on this status quo, and he couldn’t help but to wonder to himself if she had somehow planned this when she chose her timing to depart from the ceremony.

   ‘Damn you, Halin…’ he thought.

   “Where did Halin run off to?” asked Opela. “I wanted to wish her the same.”

   “Oh, uh… she said she had something she needed to do… Sorry about that.”

   “No, don’t apologize, it’s not your fault. I just figured that I would ask, since the two of you seem to hang around each other so often while here at the Enclave… Are you busy later?”

   A moment of terror passed over Alex’s features before he could answer her. “I…. I was planning on doing some sparring practice later on.”

   “Mind if I join you?”

   Alex was stunned. Was he really asking her this question? It was no secret that Opela was a bit weak in her skills with a lightsaber, and Alex was certain that his skills might overwhelm the poor young woman… And yet, there was something about her… something unspoken, which compelled him to say yes to her.

   “I don’t mind at all,” he said, before he could even know what he was doing.

   “Perfect!” she said, her face lighting up. “I truly admire your combat skills, and hope that I might take much away from this valuable opportunity to spar with you. I promise that I will not disappoint you.”

   Opela Moraf had always been known to make fast friends and allies with those around her, and Alex was beginning to see why that might be the case. It was something about her aura that put the minds of those she was interacting with at    peace and encouraged them to follow her desires almost blindly. Some Jedi Masters had been known to be quite gifted in the art of persuasion, and could use the force to easily influence the weak of mind. While Alex certainly did not consider himself to be weak in any sense of the word, he couldn’t help but to wonder if Opela was having a similar sort of influence on him.

   “I trust you won’t,” He replied. “I’ll see you later in the day?”

   “Certainly! I wouldn’t dream of missing it.”

><><><><><

Alex paced the floor of the sparring room. Along one side sat several deactivated training droids designed to be used for sparring practice. One could spar with a droid, or with a fellow Jedi, though Alex more often than not chose the droids. Droids could be set to whatever level was suitable to the one practicing, and any injury could only occur upon that person, should they have overestimated their own skills and set the droid to too high of a level. People, however, were a different story. Injuries, or even deaths could occur if a miscalculation was made.

Such miscalculations were a thing that Alex feared greatly, and the reason why he generally avoided sparring with his peers. Occasionally, he would spar with Halin, but only because he knew that she was clever enough to read his forms and to respond appropriately. In fact, on more than one occasion, she had bested him with some unorthodox method she came up with that exploited a weak point in his form. Sparring with her always made him better at spotting his own flaws, though he was convinced sometimes that she must have cheated by secretly observing him outside of their sparring sessions.

Opela, however, was not at all like Halin. She was far too trusting and known to let her guard down at crucial moments when she could have easily taken the opportunity to strike her opponent. Opela was clearly more of the Mentor and Negotiator than Swordsman… So why did she ask to spar with him?

Alex was pondering this exact question when Opela entered the sparring room.

“Opela!” Alex said, “It is good to see you.”

“Likewise,” she replied. “I hope that I’ve not kept you waiting for long?”

“Not at all! Though I have to ask… Why did you wish to spar with me? I… I don’t mean to come across as rude but… well… I… er… you… I mean…”

“I’m not very good?” she said, completing his thoughts. “And you don’t usually choose to spar with your peers?”

Alex could feel his face reddening. “I didn’t mean it like that…”

“No, please. I know all of this already. No offense is taken. I have chosen the path of the Jedi Consular---it is, after all, what probably suits me best. We rely more on our connection with the Force than our skills with a lightsaber, and generally try to avoid direct combat wherever possible… Though even among the Consulars, my skills with a blade have always been my weak point…”

Alex wasn’t sure where Opela could be going with all of this. If she had known, then why would she even want to join him in the first place?

“…You may know of Master Kavar?” she continued. “He’s an excellent swordsman—one of the best in the order—and is a dear friend of mine. At one point, he wished me to become his Padawan, but it was clear to him that, given my nature, he would not be the most suitable of teachers for my case… Now that I have graduated from Padawan to Jedi Knight, I wish to show him that I have grown and that, despite my nature, I can learn to be skilled in lightsaber combat.”

“I empathize with your case—I really do, but…” Alex began in protest, “Would not a droid be most suitable in this case?”

Opela shook her head. “A droid is not living. A droid cannot become one with the Force. Since my strengths lie with my connection to the Force, I think that, maybe, if I learn to draw upon it more during combat, instead of relying the physical nature of lightsaber forms, I might have greater success.”

So there was a plan behind her seemingly mad request after all! Perhaps she was not so very different from Halin as Alex had initially thought her to be…

“I see… While I admire your reasoning, I must admit that I am hesitant to spar with you, despite my previous agreement to your request. I do not wish to harm you as a result of our training together.”

“I trust that you will not,” she said simply in reply. “Of that, I am confident. I sense much unrest within you. Perhaps this experience will be good for the both of us. Perhaps I will also be able to teach you to trust in your own self-refrain.”

Alex considered this. Perhaps she was right? Perhaps the problem was that he had difficulty trusting himself to know when to stop? Surely he was wise enough to know such now.. After all, the Council had granted him the rank of Jedi Knight. Control was something that he was expected to have learned much more of than he was while still a Padawan.

“Fine,” Alex said with resolve. “Let us begin then.”

He ignited the blue beam of his blade and assumed a ready stance, waiting for Opela to do the same. Bowing graciously in acceptance of his decision, she removed the hilt of her saber from its place hanging at her waist and pressed the trigger, causing a brilliant silvery-white blade to spring forward with a whirring sound. She assumed her ready stance. “Yes, let us begin.”

><><><><><

Halin Chan sat upright in her bunk, sorting through information in her datapad. What she had told Master Lamar had not been a complete lie. She had gone to take a look at a droid, but it wasn’t malfunctioning. It had been a security droid on the estate of one of the wealthier locals on Dantooine. The droids were meant to prevent trespassers and kath hounds from roaming the property, but Halin had found a hole in the security system and had created a sort of backdoor through which she could observe the droids’ systems at close proximity without sounding an alarm.

It was risky, sure, but there weren’t many combat model droids on Dantooine other than those used in combat training in the enclave, and those were difficult to observe the mechanics of without being reprimanded by the Jedi Masters. Security droids were the next closest thing. Halin thought that a droid could be a useful tool on either side of a conflict, and so she wanted to have a good understanding of them in order to make the best of any situations which arose in the future.

In her mind, she had toyed with the idea of building her own droid. She understood enough of basic mechanics that she could have done so easily if she chose… but Master Sana had never been particularly fond of droids, and so Halin had refrained as a sign of respect for her Master. However, this did not mean that she hadn’t created any of her own plans based on her findings.

Droids, despite not being directly connected to the Force, still radiated energy and vibrations which could be felt by those who were well attuned. Like sentients, Halin found that droids often had their own unique personalities that would develop over time, particularly without frequent memory wipes. They were capable of a large variety of tasks, but, like people, had their particular specialties.

Halin sighed and collapsed backward onto her bunk. She knew quite well that there would be nowhere to hide a droid, and anything beyond a protocol droid might be highly questioned. A simple protocol droid wouldn’t be any fun though…

She switched off her data pad. One day, though not now…. A protocol droid would be useful, yes, but the only particularly challenging programming would be a simple study of language and etiquette…

She shoved the datapad into a drawer beside her bunk and then rolled back onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. She supposed it might be best to rest right now. After all, she and Alex were supposed to travel to Coruscant in a couple of days to serve as extra security for a treaty between two insectoid races from a rim planet.

She closed her eyes and attempted to calm her mind. Eventually, she drifted into sleep, the sound of the creatures roaming the plains of Dantooine resonating in the far background.

CHAPTER TWO: THE JEDI ARCHIVES

   Despite the Jedi presence on both worlds, Coruscant and Dantooine could not be any more different from one another. Dantooine was a planet full of fields, and farmers, and all varieties of beasts roaming its plains. Everything seemed peaceful there. It was quiet—too quiet for Halin’s tastes. Outside of the odd scattered ruins or caves, there wasn’t much interesting about the planet. It was home to the Jedi Training Facility… and that was about it.

   Coruscant, however…. Coruscant was something else! The entire planet was one enormous city. Tall spires reached up endlessly toward the sky, and it was a complete mystery to most as to what the actual surface of the planet looked like underneath all of that gleaming polished metal of the seemingly infinite constructs that surrounded it. Hovercars, speeders, and other planetary transport ships bustled about busily in neat lines between the gaps in buildings. There was so much life here, so much noise, that it could almost be deafening if one’s senses were not prepared to take in the spectacle.

   Coruscant was also the location of the Jedi Temple where the High Council of the Jedi Order sat. To Halin, it made the Jedi Enclave and training Academy on Dantooine feel like a total sham. She was happy to escape to the Capitol Planet for a while.

   Halin and Alex sat at the bar in the Tipsy Mynock Cantina on Coruscant. On the other side of the Cantina, a Bith band played while two Twi’lek females danced. Neon lights flowed across the walls. Not far from the bar was the Pazaak den, where gamblers, both locals and travelers passing through, made wagers to pass the time.

   The bar-tending droid approached the two Knights.

   “Well, well… I can’t say that we get too many Jedi in our Cantina. What brings you?”

   “We’re off duty,” Halin replied. “Drejarrk Ood recommended this place.”

   Drejarrk Ood had been one of the assistants to the Thrakian diplomat that the two had accompanied on their recent assignment. While the outcome of assignment had been inconclusive at best (with the actual diplomats on both sides of the dispute failing to appear in person for the treaty), Ood had thanked the Jedi for their patience and recommended the Tipsy Mynock as a place where they might unwind before heading back to Dantooine.

   “Any friend of Drejarrk’s is more than welcome. What can I get for the two of you?”

   “I’ll have a Wookie-wango,” said Alex.

   “And for the lady?”

   “Pink Nebula, please.”

   “Coming right up!” the bar-tending droid replied as it hurried to prepare the drinks.

   “Did you bring them?” Halin asked Alex once the droid had left.

   Alex pulled out three crystals that had been hidden in an inner pocket of his robes. “They’re right here… but I still say you cheated me.”

   “Stop being such a sore loser,” Halin said with a dismissive gesture. “If you would have waited for me to come exploring that cave with you like we had originally planned, no bet would have been necessary.” And with this, she held her hand out to him to claim her prize. Reluctantly, Alex placed the crystals in her palm and she closed her hand around them before concealing them in her own robe. “Besides, you still have half of them. With your recklessness in the cave, the Masters have determined that it’s too dangerous to go back in for more.”

   “One Wookie-wango and a Pink Nebula,” the bar-tending droid said as it returned. “Enjoy!”

   Halin and Alex waited once more for the droid to leave before switching glasses.

   “Thanks,” Alex said, sheepishly.

   “You know, the galaxy won’t implode if a droid knows you like sissy cocktails….”

   “It’s not a sissy cocktail!” Alex protested.

   “It’s a sissy cocktail. Why else would you need me to order it for you? Is it going to hurt your man pride if you have to ask for a pink drink yourself?”

   Alex fell silent and instead took a sip of his drink.

   Halin smirked. “That’s what I thought.”

   The two finished their drinks without further conversation, the bustle of the cantina around them serving to fill the silence.

   “You ready to head back to the Enclave tomorrow?” Alex finally asked.

   Halin groaned. “No…. There’s still so much I want to do while we’re here. Maybe one of these days I could get a permeant transfer to Coruscant…”

   Alex chuckled.

   “I’m serious!” Halin began to protest. “I’m sick and tired of fields and kath hounds. Jedi are supposed to be heroes of justice. Dantooine is just too damned quiet! And there are too many injustices that still exist in this universe for us to just remain idly by….”

   “Relax, Halin! I didn’t mean to upset you. I mean… there are no wars right now. The galaxy is in a time of relative peace. Sure, there are still little things—there always will be—but nothing’s falling apart.”

   “You say that with such certainty…”

   “Because I believe it’s true. And you ought to as well”

   Halin shot him a side glance before standing and putting the credits for her drink down on the counter. “Like I said, there are some things I need to do while we’re still here…”

><><><><><

   It was quite late when Halin entered the Jedi Archives on Coruscant. She did not have the authority to view everything (since much of the material was restricted to only the eyes of the Jedi Masters), but she wished very much to see what more she could having gained Knighthood.

   On Dantooine, she had been able to see a bit more than what the Masters approved of Padawans being able to view. After all, Master Sana was one of the Jedi Historians, and had great faith in her Padawan’s capacity to understand much of what the archives contained. Being a historian, Master Sana was of the mind that without knowledge, there was ignorance, and that if one did not study and learn from the failures and successes of the past, then history was doomed to repeat itself.

   Halin, taking up the cause from her own Master, had decided long ago that she would do everything she could to learn the complete history of the Jedi and their teachings, in order to spot and prevent such repetitions before they could take place. She had determined that it was in this way she would make her own mark in the Jedi archives—by investigating the mysteries that the galaxy had to offer, seeking out injustice and harm and bringing it to light, just as the Jedi watchmen had during the times of Ulic Qel-Droma and Exar Kun…

   A brief smile of amusement flashed across Halin’s face at the thought. It was a bit ironic, really—that these two of the greatest of the Jedi Watchmen would also become two of the most feared of the Sith Lords… In her mind, it only further proved her Master’s theory.

   Halin walked through the empty halls of the archives, passing shelf after shelf of data records. The archives were quite quiet at this hour. What she wanted to know was why. Why had Qel-Droma and Exar Kun fallen from the path of the light during their service as Watchmen? Perhaps the records on Coruscant contained information other than what she had previously heard….

   The Great Sith War was still recent history. It had ended less than thirty years before, and many of the current Jedi Masters had fought in the War, or knew a Jedi who had fallen during the time. Perhaps this was why many were reluctant to speak of the events in great detail, simply telling the youth that it served as a warning against the dark side…

   However, Halin thought that if the reason was known and understood for their fall, then effective countermeasures could be taken, and the Era of the Jedi Watchmen could safely resume without the fear of being overwhelmed by temptation.

   Halin succeeded in location the information she sought, but, unfortunately, it was restricted. She figured she should have expected so much, and let out a sigh. It seemed she would have to wait to attain the rank of Master before she would find the answers she sought… Or would she? A thought had occurred: the archives were empty. And perhaps if the security systems controlling restrictions were not too complex…

   She pulled a security spike from her utility belt. She had some amount of skill in the field, and thought it would at least be worth a shot. Carefully, she sliced in and attempted to tamper with the system.

   “Looking for something?” came a voice from behind her.

   Halin quickly spun around, hiding the spike, her face flushing a little. Before her stood a grand-looking woman with white hair pinned neatly into a bun. She was all robed in white from head to toe, the absence of colors only serving to accentuate her piercing blue eyes.

   “Master Atris! You startled me.”

   Master Atris was a Jedi Historian, and keeper of the Archives.

><><><><><

   Alex watched Halin as she paced outside of the door of the Jedi Council Chambers on Coruscant. Master Atris had caught her in the process of trying to access restricted material in the archives. Alex knew first hand that his friend could be overly adventurous at times, but why she would have tried something to this extent right under the noses of the High Council was beyond him! She was really asking for trouble this time…

   The doors to the Council Chamber opened and a voice came from inside.

   “The Council summons Halin Chan to appear.”

   Halin stopped in her tracks and closer her eyes giving a wince before she turned to enter the Council Chambers. The Chamber was a high-vaulted circular shaped room with windows surrounding it. Outside, Coruscant buzzed with its normal activity, the planet’s sun having made it to just before noon point.

   Halin entered the chamber and made her way to the center of the circle, where she stopped to be addressed by the Council. All around her sat twelve of the wisest of the Jedi Order—the Masters who composed the High Council of the Jedi. They were of many different species… Some of the members Halin knew quite well, since they also served on the Council on Dantooine. Those Masters were among the ones who sat in their chairs only as holo recordings, since all could not attend in person.

   “Master Atris tells us of your attempts to access restricted materials last night in the archives… Do you deny these attempts?”

   “I do not,” Halin replied simply.

   “There are sections of the archives that are restricted for good reason, young one…”

   “May I ask the Council a question?” Halin said, nearly stepping on the words of the Master who addressed her. There was a pause of silence and slight shock from the Masters.

   “You may…” one finally said, hesitant of granting this permission.

   “I ask the Council to recite the Jedi code.”

   Master Atris scoffed. “We have no duty to fulfill such frivolous requests when there are more serious matters being discussed here…”

   “What could possibly be more serious than the code that we are taught to live by—the oath that we take as Jedi!?”

   There was another pause, which was eventually broken by Master Tokare. “There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge, There is no chaos, there is serenity. There is no death, there is The Force…”

   “Yes, Master,” Halin replied with an accepting nod. “but how are we supposed to live by these teachings when knowledge is deliberately withheld from us? Are we not choosing a path of ignorance in accepting such?”

   “To gain knowledge is one thing,” Master Lemar replied to her, “but to have the wisdom to fully understand all knowledge is something that only those who have been granted the rank of Master have. You are young and headstrong, and too full of emotions…”

   “Then is seeking the truth a crime?” Halin looked the holo of Master Lamar straight in the eye.

   “This mere girl speaks out of turn,” Master Atris said in a condescending tone. “She talks of upholding the code, and yet she cannot find peace within herself!”

   This time it was Halin who fell silent.

   “Halin Chan,” the first Master continued. “the Council understands your concern. However, there are certain things regarding the war with Exar Kun that remain under investigation, as we are still rebuilding. Your intentions are admirable, but the Council kindly requests that you respect our judgement on this matter and refrain from any further attempts of investigation yourself.”

   Halin closed her eyes and bit her lip, bowing her head in bitter acceptance. “I understand…”

   “You are dismissed from this chamber with no further punishments under the assumption that you will uphold this request. Should you fail to do so, the Council will be forced to take more serious action.”

   Halin opened her mouth and drew breath as if to protest, but restrained herself from doing so. She knew that the Council was being quite gracious in their judgement. Even she dared not to push it any further. Instead, she simply bowed in acceptance, turned, and left the Council Chamber in silence.

CHAPTER THREE: THE PAST FORGOTTEN

Alex was outside the doors of the Council Chamber still waiting for Halin when she finally emerged. He wanted to ask her what their judgement had been, but the look in her eyes told him that it was a subject better left for her to discuss in her own time. Instead, he took to her stride and continued with her side by side down the corridor.

“I suppose we should start heading back then,” he said, attempting to defuse the situation.

Halin stopped walking, her mind raging with emotions. The Council had been right. Who was she to try to criticize their upholding of the code when she still battled controlling her emotions? She sighed, wiping away a tear before it could fall. She knew that she wouldn’t ever hear the end of it if Alex saw her crying…

He wanted to ask her if something was the matter, but she replied, shutting the conversation down before it could begin.

“I’m fine. I’m just… tired. It was a long night, after all…”

Alex nodded silently and the two continued walking.

There was a point at which there was an intersection which lead to several of the docking pads connected to the Jedi Temple. While the majority of those coming and going were members of the Jedi Order, there were also outsiders—people who had come from across the galaxy, seeking the aid of the Jedi. As Halin and Alex crossed the platform, they passed by a man who seemed to be trying to decide on a direction. He was clearly some visitor who was overwhelmed and couldn’t find the direction to go…

“Excuse me, Master Jedi?” the man said, addressing the two, “I was hoping one of you might be able to help me? I’m looking for the way to the Council Chambers. I would like to request a presence with them…”

Alex turned and pointed the way from which he and Halin had been walking. “Follow that corridor until you see the reception. Let them know your business and they will inform the Council of your wish to be seen.”

“Thank you kindly,” the man said, bowing in a polite gesture. “And may I ask your names in case someone questions me about who sent me in the direction?”

Halin regarded the man. There was a vague familiarity to his presence. She could feel it through the Force, though it was one she could not readily place.

“My name is Alex Khaar,” the Jedi replied. “My companion is Halin Chan. I regret to tell you though that we are not Masters—only Knights.”

The man’s eyes widened and he focused his gaze on Halin.

“Little Halin?” he said, his voice shaking in disbelief. “No, no, it couldn’t possibly…”

Halin raised an eyebrow at the man. “I’m sorry… do I know you?”

“Yes,” he said. “Yes, I think you might…. It’s me. Talon” He watched her, as if he expected the name to mean something, but for Halin it was not ringing any bells.

“I’m sorry,” she said, but you must have me confused with somebody else….”

“No, I don’t think so. I’m sure of it… Tell me, by any chance, do you come from a planet called Deralia?”

Halin blinked before giving a hesitant answer. “I do… How would you know that though?”

A smile came to the man’s face, tears of joy threatening to spring from his eyes. “I had a little sister, long ago, who showed talent in the force, and was taken from my family to be trained as a Jedi. Deralia is so far away though, and she was so young that my family was not able to make contact with her after she left. It’s discouraged for those recruited in the order to have contact with their families…” He placed his hands on Halin’s shoulders and looked her in the eye. “My name in Talon Chan, and my younger sister was Halin Chan.”

Halin’s eyes widened in disbelief and she staggered backward, away from the man’s touch. His presence… That was why it had seemed so familiar to her.

Talon could see her discomfort with the situation and immediately began to apologize. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to disturb you with this information… After all, I could be completely mistaken. I’m sure there must be another Halin Chan among the Order…”

“No,” she said, her face pale. “None that I am aware of… But how… Why are you here?”

“I came in hopes to request the aid of the Council…. You see, the political climate on the Outer Rim is quite different than here on the core worlds. I’m not sure if you are aware of the situation but, lately, There have been several Mandalorian attacks on other Rim worlds—those outside of the Republic. Deralia hasn’t been attacked, thankfully, and neither have any of our Republic neighbors, but… We fear the proximity of these attacks. We fear that, once they finish conquering these worlds, they will turn to ours next… I’ve come on behalf of the Deralian planetary government to request the aid of the Jedi in defending us against the possibility of attack.”

“The Mandalorians?... but weren’t they brought to a stop after the Mandalorian Crusades?” Alex asked.

Talon shook his head. “They’ve since chosen a new Mandalore and recently have begun conquests again. We pray that they will not grow so bold as to attack Republic sanctioned planets, but the Mandalorians can be unpredictable, and we would rather not risk the safety and security of Deralia.”

Halin felt something strange stir inside of her. Here was this person from a past she knew existed, but that she hadn’t been face-to-face with in so very long… She couldn’t help but to become curious about it. How were her parents? What was Deralia like? What kind of person was this brother whom she was now meeting? Did her family ever think of her? Had they made any efforts to contact her after she had been taken for training?... Her head reeled with thoughts. There was so much that she wanted to know….

“You should go to the Council,” Halin said. “After all, Deralia is counting on you.”

Talon smiled a little. “Perhaps we can meet afterward to catch up over lunch? I’d certainly like to hear how your training has been going since you left home… And you must have questions for me as well.”

Halin thought about it. She wanted to. She wanted very much to have answers to all of these questions which had arisen… But she was unsure, given her current situation, whether such a thing would be wise… After all, her current relations with the Jedi Council were strained after the incident in the Archives. Perhaps it would be best to leave the situation alone rather than risk being reprimanded for anything else. Contact with family was discouraged because of the emotional ties that often came with it. She had already gotten in trouble for her emotions only an hour before—she did not wish to provoke the Council to take further action.

“Perhaps I shouldn’t…” she murmured aloud.

Alex gave her a look. “Of course she will!”

“Alex!” Halin protested. She wasn’t sure yet what he was up to, but she didn’t like it.

“I have some business here I should really finish before we return to Dantooine. And I’m sure that the two of you have quite a bit of catching up to do…”

“What sort of business?” she asked, folding her arms in suspicion.

“Well…” Alex began, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck, "I need to… uh… Check for supplies for our journey back? There’s lots of stuff you can find in the shops on Coruscant that you can’t get on Dantooine…”

“So you’re going shopping…?”

“Yes,” he said, affirmatively. “I’m going shopping. And you’re waiting by the ship for your brother to finish his meeting with the Council.”

“And what if I just took the ship without you and went back myself? I don’t need you to co-pilot. The course is pre-programmed in the nava-computer.”

Alex faltered. He hadn’t thought through that far.

“You wouldn’t leave your old friend stranded… besides, I’ll see about picking you up some new droid schematics if you just wait…”

Halin’s expression softened a little. “I suppose I could wait for a couple of hours…”

“Excellent!” Talon Chan interrupted. “I look forward to seeing you soon. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have an important meeting to attend.”

He gave a gracious nod of his head, dismissing himself, a gesture which Halin and Alex returned with a small bow, and then Talon Chan headed toward the Jedi Council Chambers.

“Why did you make me agree to that?” Halin asked Alex once Talon was out of earshot.

“I thought it would be good for you. You need to loosen up. You’re always too busy studying…”

Halin scoffed. “Oh please! Now you’re making me sound like Opela…”

“Yes, well, Opela doesn’t try to hack the security system in the Jedi archives to access restricted materials resulting in near detention from the High Council and doesn’t have issues controlling her passions…”

Halin took a deep breath, clearly trying to ignore Alex’s statement. “There is no emotion,” she muttered. “There is peace…”

Alex smirked. “I’ll be back soon.” And he turned and began to leave.

“You had better come through with those schematics,” she called after him.

Alex stopped and glanced over his shoulder at her before turning back and shaking his head, laughing a little as he walked away. ‘Some people never change,’ he thought to himself. And with this, Alex left the platform.

><><><><><

Halin sat amusing herself with the crystals she had won from Alex in their bet. She was looking forward to using them to modify her lightsaber once she had access to a workbench. Lightsaber crystals were rather difficult to come by. There was a cave on Dantooine where crystals grew, but it had been deemed to be too dangerous now for entry due to the incident with the kinraith infestation. When Alex had gone in by himself, he had been badly poisoned and barely escaped with his life.

Halin thought that he was a fool for this. After all, they had planned to go together and yet he had left without her… And, knowing full-well that kinraith were a risk before entering, he should have brought with him some medpacks, or antidote kits… He should have known better.

Each crystal she held had unique properties that made it useful when incorporated into focusing the lightsaber. The first was a variety called Bondar and was most typically found on asteroids in the Alderanian system. These cloudy white crystals were typically used in training lightsabers, since the beam that they produced was of a different type of energy that stunned rather than causing serious damage.

The second crystal was the near opposite of the first. The bright cyan colored formation was an Opila crystal. Unlike Bondar, Opila crystals were quite lethal. They intensified the focus of a lightsaber’s blade, causing it to slice through things more quickly. Halin was curious to see what the results might be should she combine the two for focusing her own lightsaber.

The third crystal was quite different from the other two. This one seemed mostly clear, but it had…changed since when she had received it from Alex. As she turned the crystal over in her hand, it seemed to faintly glow in her hand. At first glance, it seemed to her like a Kyber crystal, though the ones she had previously seen had been attuned to certain colors depending on what Force-sensitives they had previously been in contact with. This one (as far as she could tell) seemed to be still unattuned. When she turned it, it would faintly radiate a color… blue, yellow, red, green, orange… but the color never lasted for more than a fleeting second.

This intrigued Halin greatly. Within this tiny crystal lay millions of different possibilities. While a part of her wanted to use the crystal right away, another part of her told her not to. After all, once she equipped it into her own lightsaber, she would be required to attune herself with the crystal, thus permanently deciding its color, shaping its fate. The time would come when it would be right for her to do so… but not yet. Perhaps when she eventually attained the rank of Jedi Master… but for now, she was content with her own Veridian blade.

“What have you got there?” came a voice from behind. It was Talon.

“Nothing of concern,” Halin said, closing her grip around the crystal and replacing it in the inner pocket of her robe. “How did your meeting with the Council go?”

“Not as well as I had hoped,” Talon admitted. “They refuse fight the Mandalorians unless they attack Republic space, but they are sending a Master to investigate further though… Not on Deralia specifically, but, in general, the outer rim worlds in alignment with the Republic.”

“I suppose it could have gone worse then…”

“Certainly it could have. I am disappointed in the lack of direct action, but I suppose it’s better than nothing. I’ll have to inform planetary government to begin our own fortifications as a precaution…”

There was a moment of silence, neither really sure how to continue. It was Halin who, after some time, finally spoke up.

“…How are mother and father?”

Talon smiled a little at the question. He was glad to see his kid sister again after all of these years, even if it seemed she didn’t know much about who he was at all…

“They are well,” he said, “They’re both retired now and I’ve taken up father’s position in politics. They’ll be quite happy to know that you asked about them. Before you, there had never been a Jedi to come from Deralia, and so when the Jedi Master who visited sensed your unique affinity with the Force, mother and father were quite eager to send you to be trained. Whether you realize it or not, you are a beacon of hope for our people. Your presence among the order gives us hope that someday others might recognize the name of our planet, and that we might become more connected with the rest of the galaxy…”

Halin had mixed feelings about this information. On one hand, an entire planet apparently admired her… on the other, her parents had given her for the purpose of a pawn for political gain…

“So I’m only here to give a name for Deralia among the Order?...”

“No, it’s not like that at all!”

“What is it like then?”

“You were always a talented girl, Halin, even back on Deralia. But Deralia is quite small. There’s nothing particularly extraordinary about it, and most don’t even know of its existence. Your potential would have been wasted there… Mother especially wanted you to be able to have a better future—to choose to be more than what Deralia had to offer….”

“So she made the choice for me?”

Talon sighed. This conversation was far more frustrating than he had hoped it would be.

“Are you saying now that you would rather have not become a Jedi? Do you regret your training?”

“Oh course not!” Halin exclaimed. “It’s just that… sometimes I wonder if it’s really what’s best for me… How my life would have turned out differently had I followed another path…. I can’t help but to feel…. Different… Master Sana always told me that being different was what made me special, and what had attracted her to me when she first visited Deralia… But I’m not so sure… I don’t think the same way as most Jedi. And while Master Sana always encouraged this from me, it’s gotten me into trouble more times than I would care to admit…”

And with this, Halin let out a sigh. “Look… Don’t take this the wrong way, Talon, but it’s probably best if we end this conversation now before I end up saying something that I’ll regret. The Council is already at my throat right now and, as you know, Jedi are discouraged from contact with family members, since such ties can be strongly linked to emotions, making them more difficult to control… and as the Council seems to think I’m too prone to my emotions as it is, things are best left this way. Give mother and father my regards when you return to Deralia…”

Talon gave a sad smile. “I suppose you’re not going to give me any choice in this matter then?”

Halin shook her head. “I’m asserting my authority as a Jedi Knight on this matter.”

“At least say that you’ll let me contact you on the odd occasion. You’re currently stationed om Dantooine, are you not?”

“I am… I’ll tell you what: if there is a change in the situation of things on Deralia, contact me and I will help in any way that I am able… Consider it my public service to the Deralian people.”

“I promise you I will make contact if there is any change… And Halin?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for taking the time to speak to me. You probably can’t understand what it means to me, and to mother, and to father, and to all the people of Deralia to know that you are well along your path as a Jedi.”
He waited for Halin to give him some sort of response, but her eyes, along with her thoughts, had drifted elsewhere. Finally, with a sigh, he gave up.

“Goodbye, Halin. It was good to see you again.”

And as he turned to depart for his ship, Halin murmured back.

“It was good to see you too…”

CHAPTER FOUR: CONNECTIONS IN THE FORCE

   The way back from Coruscant to Dantooine was full of much discussion between Halin and Alex. After all, with the events of the past day, there was much for them to talk about: The incident in the archives, the results of Alex’s trip, the newly learned information about the advancing Mandalorians and about Halin’s home world, Deralia…

   “So what did he tell you of the situation?” Alex asked as he reclined in the co-pilot’s seat.

   “Not much,” Halin said, flicking some of the controls. “We spoke mostly of Deralia itself. He mentioned that the Council was sending a Master to investigate, though he didn’t mention who. I’m sure we could check the records of the meeting though. I doubt that would be among restricted records…”

   There was a hint of bitterness in the tone of her last words and Alex could tell that she was still upset by the Council’s decision on banning her from detailed records of Exar Kun and of the Great Sith War.

   “Perhaps not,” Alex said, deciding to leave the topic for the time being. “I suppose in a worst-case scenario, you could always contact Talon and ask. Though it’s possible the Council didn’t tell him either… Not that it makes much difference, really. I’m sure that they’re sending someone perfectly capable and that Deralia is in good hands…”

   “That’s just it though. They’re not sending someone to aid with defense on Deralia specifically—the Master is to investigate the Mandalorians’ presence in the outer rim planets under the control of the Republic. Talon doesn’t seem confident that the Jedi Master will be of much help. He’s going to have the planetary defenses on alert and has said he would contact me directly should there be any change in the status of planetary security…”

   Alex blinked. “Contact you directly? All things considered, I’m surprised that you agreed to such a thing…”

   “What choice did I have, Alex? I may not remember him or my parents very well, but… these are my people. It wouldn’t be right to leave them without any hope of aid when they might be in need… Isn’t it the duty of a Jedi to protect the innocent?”

   Alex smiled. “So you plan on helping them if the time comes…”

   “Of course I do.”

   “Would you mind if an old friend tagged along for the ride?”

   Halin laughed a little. “Of course not, but… what, might I ask, inspired this?”

   “Well… after the Knighting ceremony on Dantooine, Opela asked if she could spar with me…”

   Halin grinned at this. “And how did that go?”

   “I questioned her reasoning for wanting to spar with me, rather than with one of the training droids when it was obvious that her skills with a lightsaber were far below my own.… Her reasoning, she said, was because of her talent in forming connections in the Force. She thought that perhaps she could use these connections as a means for better reading her opponent, and since droids are not living creatures with the Force flowing through them, she had difficulty sensing them in the same way that she did organics… You know very well that I don’t like sparring with colleagues, in fear I may end up injuring them unless I use a training saber… But her confidence in herself and in me… it made me feel compelled to allow her to spar with me. At first, I thought she must be manipulating me somehow, but her own reasoning and faith in her abilities made me think… We all form bonds in the Force—between teacher and student, friend and friend… And these bonds make both stronger. Through them, we feed off of each other’s strength and connection with the Force… And I believe that we share some sort of a bond, Halin.”

   He looked at her very seriously. So much so that Halin could not help but to be taken a little aback. “And what sort of bond, pray tell, do you think that might be?”

   “I don’t know exactly… Only that… when I’m around you, I feel your strength, and that with it, I too feel stronger… Please, if the time comes, promise me that you’ll let me come with you…”

   “Don’t you go getting all mushy on me now, nerfhearder. You can come with me, but I think Opela must have made something snap in your brain…”

   Alex forced laughter. “Yeah, maybe… Thanks though.”

   He’d blown it. Maybe now wasn’t the best time to try to bring this up… His sparring session with Opela had made him realize many things about himself that he was still discovering even afterward. She had made him realize the existence of his own bonds—why he could be so open with Halin, despite his generally closed and reserved nature. He loved her! He was sure of it!

   When he was around Opela, she had intensified the connections he felt through all bonds, including his bond with Halin. It was this reason that he had felt strangely when he was previously in Opela’s presence. What was interesting though was that she—Opela—seemed to understand his feelings before he did himself. Perhaps this was why Master Tokare thought so highly of her abilities…

   Maybe when the time was right, he would better be able to explain this to Halin, but for now he was content with their friendship. Given the rules of the Order, he doubted it would ever be more than such, but he could at least hope for her understanding…

   Halin cleared her throat.

   “So… about those schematics…”

   “Oh yes… here,” Alex said, pulling out a chip, which Halin took and, giving a nod in thanks, tucked away in the same pocket as the crystals.

   “I’ll download them to my datapad once we’re docked. Is it an interesting model, at least?”

   “I thought so. It’s rejected prototype blueprints for a new type of protocol droid that the Czerka Corporation has been working on. Apparently they scrapped the idea though…”

   “Oh? I wonder for what reason…”

   “Beats me. I’m not much one for going over programming.”

   “I wonder if I could build a functioning model… A protocol droid shouldn’t cause any issues. It might help to pass the time, at least. It would also prove to be a great study piece…”

   Alex rolled his eyes. Sometimes he thought that Halin seemed more interested in droids than she was in the living. “Who knows,” he said. And he stood up, stretching. “I’m going to get some shuteye before we come out of hyperspace. Will you be alright with things here on your own for a couple hours?”

   “I can manage. Go rest.”

   Alex excused himself to the sleeping quarters of the Stalwart Nightingale. The ship was a rather small freighter, so they were nothing extravagant, but it was more comfortable than the cockpit. The young man disrobed and then flopped onto one of the bunks, letting out a sigh as he did so. He was scheduled to head to the Academy on Taris soon after they would arrive back on Dantooine, It was just a brief assignment—merely to scout some of the new talents among younglings there—but he was going to be on his own this time, and the thought startled him.

   Ever since being brought to the Academy, he had always been able to follow someone—his Master, Halin, the Council… This would be his first time taking up the position of a ‘leader’ of sorts. Others of the new Knights had received similar assignments: Opela Moraf on Dantooine, another on Coruscant, one on H’ratth… The idea was that they would serve as inspiration to aspiring Padawans.

   Alex closed his eyes, allowing his mind to grow calm as the Stalwart Nightingale continued to barrel peacefully through hyperspace.

><><><><><

   “For how long will you be gone?” Opela asked as she followed Master Kavar through the corridors of the Jedi Enclave on Dantooine.

   “For as long as the investigation demands,” Kavar replied. “It could be a few months, it could be a couple of years… It honestly depends on what the Mandalorians are planning in the Outer Rim, and how they go about executing that plan. Don’t worry about me though. I’ll be sure to keep in contact from time to time. Besides, you have your own assignment to be worried about right now. I heard the Council has entrusted you with a special task here on Dantooine. To serve as the role model for the next generation of Jedi… it’s a great honor. I couldn’t think of any better choice for the task.”

   Opela blushed with modesty. “I fear I may not be ready. It is a big responsibility… And what if they should have questions to which I do not know the answers?”

   “Trust in the Force,” Kavar said, stopping and turning to his friend. “I’m sure you know more than you realize… and if you cannot find the answer within yourself, challenge them to find the answers to their questions by searching within themselves. The path to become a Jedi is one of self-discovery. They cannot expect to be spoon-fed all of the answers.”

   Opela smiled. Master Kavar always seemed to know the right things to say. While a Jedi Guardian, there was no doubt that he possessed the wisdom of a Master in fields beyond that of combat. “You are right, Master Kavar. I wish you luck on your journey. May the Force be with you.”

   “May the Force be with you,” the Jedi Master replied, and the two bowed to one another in respect before parting.

   Opela continued down her own path to the Enclave’s mess hall. It was a jovial place where Jedi of all ranks came to have a bite to eat while at the Enclave on Dantooine. She went along the self-service line, selected a couple pieces of exotic-looking fruit and some sort of unleavened bread, then looked for a place to sit and enjoy her light meal. She noticed a mostly empty table where sat Alex and Halin, the former gorging himself in a sort of stewed meat, and the latter sipping a cup of tea while reading something from her datapad. Opela approached them.

   “Mind if I sit here?” Opela asked them.

   Alex looked at her with his mouth full, unable to politely respond, and Halin gave a silent gesture without looking up from her datapad, to indicate that it was okay for Opela to sit. The blonde woman joined her companions at the table.

   “Aren’t either of you nervous for the upcoming assignment? I think I would be less nervous if I weren’t staying here on Dantooine, but… these children could see my actions at any time… Alex, you’re going to Taris, are you not?” Opela looked to the barrel-chested man for a reply.

   Alex swallowed down what he had been chewing. “I am,” He replied. “Can’t say I’m any less nervous than you though, even if I don’t look it.”

   “And what about you, Halin?” Opela asked, turning to the other.

   “Who, me? Oh, I’m not going?”

   “Not going? Why not?”

   Halin set down her tea and her datapad and looked Opela in the eye. “I’ve been deemed a ‘bad influence’,” she said, putting air quotes around the last part of her sentence. “I guess they don’t want my questioning authority to rub off on the younglings…” And with this, she went back to her tea and datapad.

   Opela looked at her quizzically. “Bad influence… I don’t understand… You’re one of the most gifted students to have come out of the Academy in recent years.”

   “Talent and personality are two different things, sweetheart. We can’t all be blessed with the best of both.” Her words were tinged with a sarcasm that Opela couldn’t understand.

   “I think what Halin means to say,” Alex said, interrupting the situation, “is that the Council would rather give her some time to reflect upon…. recent events before allowing her to consider taking a Padawan.”

   “Recent events?” Opela repeated, even more confused than before.

   Alex opened his mouth to explain, but Halin shot him a look that made him hold back his words. “It’s nothing, really,” he said instead. “Personal matters. They are of no concern…”

   “I see,” Opela said, not seeming so convinced, but deciding not to push further for the time being. Instead, she took a bite of the unleavened bread on her tray. “Well… If you’re still going to be on Dantooine during the time, you’re more than welcome to assist me in addressing the younglings here.”

   “Why would I do that?”

   “Well… I think it’s important for the youth to be able to see many different types of Jedi with different views and talents… I’m sure that they’ll have questions, and I cannot possibly answer them all. You’re one of the most brilliant women I know. I’m sure you could come up with something…”

   Halin sighed. “I don’t want to cause any trouble for you….”

   “It’s not trouble at all! This is my assignment, and if I feel you are up for the task, then that’s my choice.”

   Halin bit her lip, musing upon the idea. It wasn’t that she wanted to refuse really… Simply that she didn’t want to cause any more trouble than she already had recently. “I suppose if I’m not busy during the time I could at least drop by… Are you certain this is what you want though?”

   “I am certain.”

   Halin nodded, then went back to her tea.

   “Forgive me, I don’t mean to intrude, but… you seem… distracted. Is everything all right?”

   Halin sighed and set the datapad down, clutching her cup of tea in both hands. “I’m fine. It’s just that a lot has been going on lately…. Things that I couldn’t have even begun to anticipate myself…”

   “What sort of things?”

   Halin hesitated. “Well…. I met my brother while Alex and I were on Coruscant… It wasn’t planned, obviously, and certainly not expected either….”

   “What was he doing on Coruscant?”

   “He came to request audience with the Jedi High Council on behalf of Deralia… It’s…” Halin swallowed and lowered her voice, not wanting to attract the attention of any extraneous ears. “It’s the Mandalorians. They’ve been attacking planets on the Outer Rim. So far none of the attacks have been on the Republic, but…. the last time that the Mandalorians launched such a series of attacks, it resulted in a full-blown war, eventually leading to the Great Sith War… I fear that, if things get any worse, another war will come, and there won’t be any chance of stopping it…”

   “That must be why Master Kavar was headed to the Outer Rim…” Opela murmured.

   “I beg your pardon?”

   “Oh! Sorry… Master Kavar was telling me that the Council was sending him to investigate Mandalorian activities on the Outer Rim,” Opela replied. “My guess is that it has something to do with why your brother was contacting the Council…”

   “So they sent Master Kavar, huh…” Halin felt a little relieved by this bit of information. After all, Master Kavar was quite skilled and was one of the only remaining Masters who had participated directly in the Great Sith War. “That’s good news, at least. He more so than most would understand exactly what is at stake…” And with this, she stood. “I’m sorry, but I have a lot on my mind and I feel I need to meditate on this… Please let me know when you will be working with the younglings. Time permitting, I will come to see you.” Halin bowed graciously and left in solitude. While she hoped that a war would not come as a result of the recent occurrences, she knew better than to lie to herself by denying the possibility.

   Opela redirected her attention to Alex after Halin’s parting. “Did you speak to her?” she asked him.

   Alex shook his head. “I tried, but… it’s difficult for me to put into words…”

   Opela smiled a little. “Bonds are funny that way… they are easier to feel than to provide a tangible description of. I suppose the Force is a mysterious thing in that sense… The time will come though. Let me know if you need any help until then… I think she knows that you admire her. Perhaps if things were different, you would serve well as her pupil, always so ready to follow her… It’s beautiful, really.”

   Alex blushed a little. “Jedi are warned against forming emotional attachments…”

   “Perhaps, though the existence of emotions and of bonds is perfectly natural… It is how we control them, rather than letting them control us, which makes Jedi different from most…”

CHAPTER FIVE: THE NEXT GENERATION

   Alex stood facing the sea of children in front of him. All of them were seated on the floor, staring up at the giant of a man. He stared down at them, ironically, he was almost intimidated by how tiny they were. He felt as though he might break them if he were to step incorrectly. He swallowed hard, a knot forming in his stomach. He didn’t like this situation one bit.

   He was there, at the Jedi Tower on Taris on an assignment to meet the next generation of Jedi—to share his experiences, inspire them, to answer questions… He wasn’t sure why he had been one of the ones they had chosen for the task. Surely there were others who would have been better suited…

   “My name is Alex Kharr, and I am a Jedi Knight,” he said, finally addressing the children. “The Council sent me here to answer some of your questions about what it is like to be a Jedi… though I must warn all of you in advance, I have not been a Jedi Knight for very long now…”

   A tiny Twi’lek girl in the front raised her hand. Alex was a bit surprised, since he hadn’t finished his introduction yet, but he called on her anyway. “Yes?” he said.

   “Why are you so tall?”

   Alex faltered, visibly staggering for a moment in his place, as if the question had been a physical blow that had stricken him by surprise. “Well, you see,” he began, scratching the back of his head, “I used to be small… and then I grew up. I ate my food, trained hard…. And got taller? ….Genetics, maybe?”

   Alex could tell that this wasn’t the answer the girl had been hoping for. Her purple-skinned face scrunched up and she tilted her head to one side, her headtails flopping along with the motion. Alex chuckled nervously. “Are there any other questions?” he asked. “Any questions about the Force, or about being a Jedi….?”

   Another raised their hand—a human boy this time: “When I become a Jedi, will I get to be as tall as you?”

   “Maybe?... How tall you are has nothing to do with being a Jedi though.”

   “But wouldn’t being tall and strong like you make you better at things like dueling with lightsabers?”

   Alex stopped for a moment. Sabers were always his talent, and he began to think that maybe the kid was onto something.

   “Well… yes, I suppose it does work to my advantage in that sense… but there are plenty of other Jedi far less tall than I who are still excellent swordsmen…. A friend of mine, she is a very petite woman—the exact opposite of me—and yet she’s bested me more than once while sparring. In her case, she thinks very quickly, and her small size makes her very agile… So in that case, being small can be an advantage too. You don’t have to be big like me to be a great Jedi.”

   “So even at our size, we can be great Jedi?” asked another.

   “Absolutely!” Alex said. “If you don’t let your size or age, or background serve as a limiting factor, then what is there to hold you back from gaining the results of the effort you put in?” Alex stopped and listened to himself. He was somewhat surprised that he actually sounded like he knew what he was talking about. He made a mental note that he would have to thank Halin when he returned to Dantooine.

   I wonder how she’s doing, Alex thought to himself. Halin hadn’t been one of the Knights selected to give a tutoring session, and he knew her well enough to know that she had taken offense to this decision. In light of the timing, however, she really should have suspected this would be the case…

   But now was not the time to dwell on such things. Right now, he had to devote himself to his own mission.

><><><><><

   Halin sat browsing through her collected droid data. The model that Alex had gotten schematics for was proving to be quite the interesting subject. It seemed that while the droid’s primary functions appeared to be etiquette and protocol, it had a secondary function with properties similar to the combat model security droids that she had studied previously. Halin had never heard of a protocol droid with combat capabilities before. She figured that this seemingly conflicting programs were why Czerka had decided to scrap the idea.

   It was this knowledge of the secondary functions, however, that made her question the idea of a working model in the Enclave. Halin sighed at the thought. As much as she wanted to build her own droid, she kept finding complications that made her doubt the idea. Perhaps one of these days she would get over this fear of the Council disapproving. After all, would they really expel her for building a droid? Surely there were worse things in the past that Jedi had done. Halin had heard of instances of secret marriages and secret families among members of the order, studies of forbidden holocrons found on remote planets during missions… Surely her own aspirations weren’t so terrible by comparison.

   One Day…

   Letting out another sigh, Halin switched off her datapad and put it away. She twisted a lock of dark hair around her finger while tapping the nails of her other hand on the desk. ‘Opela must be with the younglings by now… Maybe I should take her up on her offer. After all, it would be priceless to see the look on Master Lamar’s face if he sees me there…’

   The thought caused a smirk to appear on Halin’s face. Master Vrook Lamar had always been more critical than any of the other Masters. While it sometimes did get her into trouble, the majority of them actually admired her eagerness to learn and thirst for knowledge. Halin was convinced that Master Lamar was just a grump because his wrinkles made his face so heavy that he was in a constant struggle to keep it from caving in on itself.

   She stretched and leaned back in her chair as far as she could without it toppling over. What did she have to lose if she accepted this request from Opela? Eventually she would be expected to take up a Padawan. It would be good to get an initial eye for prospects….

   That was it. She had decided. Rising to her feet, she donned a long black robe over her short sapphire one and pulled her hair up into a bun, her bangs falling on either side of her face. If she was going to make an impression, she needed to look the part. After applying a deep crimson to her lips, she decided that she was ready, and left her chamber to head for the meeting with the Younglings.

><><><><><

   Opela looked out over the sea of curious young faces sitting before her. While Jedi, by nature, were never expected to be mothers (after all, marriage and romantic relationships were prohibited, albeit not unheard of), she felt a sort of maternal instinct looking out over the crowd. They were all such beautiful young minds with bright futures ahead of them, whether in service to the Order directly, or in civil service should they not be taken as Padawan by the time they came of age. Perhaps among this group there was someone who she would one day take as her own Padawan… No… she was certain of it! She could feel it. Already, subtle connections—bonds—existed in the force. She had a personal talent for forming them and for discovering existing bonds. With some student in this room, a bond, however faint at the moment, was beginning to form.

   “Hello Younglings!” Opela cooed in a gentle voice.

   “Hello Miss Moraf,” came a collective answer strewn together by a myriad of children’s voices. The young Jedi Knight could not help but to chuckle at this.

   “Please, call me Opela,” she said. “The Council has asked me to speak to you today on behalf of the Order. I am here to answer whatever questions you may have about the Force, about life as a Jedi… I cannot tell you that I will have all of the answers that you seek—sometimes there are answers that one must discover for his or herself—but I will certainly try my best. It wasn’t all too long ago that I was sitting in the exact place that you are right now—aspiring to become a Padawan and to join the Jedi Order… And now I am here, speaking to you as a Jedi Knight. We are all connected through the Force and—like life itself—the Jedi exist in a sort of never-ending cycle… One day, one of you will be standing where I am right now, addressing yet another generation of Younglings who will become the future of the Jedi Order.”

   There were murmurs in awe of the idea throughout the crowd. This particular group of younglings was typically under the direction of Master Vrook Lamar, and so they were quite disciplined in their adherence to order. One student—a human boy around ten years of age with blond hair and blue eyes that brimmed with admiration and curiosity—timidly raised his hand.

   Master Vrook Lamar and Master Vandar Tokare looked out from the back of the room at Opela with the students. They were there in part to chaperone the younglings in case of emergency, but also to observe young Opela Moraf’s interactions with them. Master Vandar had trained Opela himself during much of her time as a Padawan, and he felt a sense of obligation and pride in tracking her progress. He knew that, one day, Opela Moraf would be a great leader. People were so ready to follow her if only she would work up the courage to learn to lead them.

   “Yes, young one? What is your name?” Opela asked, responding to the raised hand. “Stand, please.”

   The young boy carefully got up. “Mical,” he said shyly in response to her question.

   “You have a question, Mical. What is it that you wish to ask me?”

   “I’ve heard from the Masters about something called ‘bonds’ in the Force. I never quite understood the concept though from the explanations I’ve heard before… And Master Vandar says that you are quite gifted in this area—an expert!”

   Opela couldn’t help a sheepish grin of modesty appearing on her face. “I don’t know about an ‘expert,’ but I can certainly tell you what I know of such bonds… What they feel like….”

   It was around this point that Halin came in, lingering in the doorway so as not to disturb the ongoing session. She rested a gloved hand on the doorframe and observed from afar. She was quite curious to hear what Opela had to say on the matter. Perhaps it would shed some light on whatever Alex had been rambling on about during their return flight on the Stalwart Nightingale… She noticed Master Vrook Lamar glance in her direction, his face scrunching up a bit in subtle disapproval. Their eyes met for a moment, but Halin chose to ignore his attempts to intimidate her into leaving and continued to observe Opela’s response to the Youngling in question.

   Opela unlatched the hilt of her lightsaber from her belt and ignited its silvery blade. The light cast from the thing illuminated her own face and those of the children closer to the front. “The Force is a thing which connects all of us… Not just us in the room, but also the life all around us. The kath hounds on the plains, the trees, the grass, the insects burrowing in the soil beneath our feet… In some way, we share a bond with everything and everyone in the Universe… For a Jedi, however, these bonds are special. They affect us, and those around us in profound ways… For a moment, I would like all of you to close your eyes.”

   She looked out across the room, observing the children as they all did so. It was at this point that she visibly noticed the presence of Halin in the room, though she had felt her presence in the Force much sooner. Opela was glad that her colleague had come at her request, despite Master Vrook’s obvious disapproval of her being there.

   “Now I want all of you to listen,” Opela continued. “Listen beyond sound. Listen to the Force itself….” She remained silent for a moment, allowing all of them time to listen as she had said. “To me… there is a sound like music… like singing… harmonies interwoven between beings… Between some, these harmonies resonate more strongly than between others, almost as if the two are inseparable from one another… There are two basic bonds that every Jedi must form and must nurture during their early stages… The first being the bond between Student and Teacher, and the second being the bond between the Jedi and their lightsaber…. I could talk for some time about the intricacies and subtleties of both… but much is best left for a student to experience firsthand… Today, I think it best to discuss the bond between Jedi and lightsaber…. One day, when you become Padawans, you will all have to construct your own lightsaber. They say that the blade is an extension of the Jedi. It is because each crystal is chosen with a precision during construction… some say that it is the crystal itself that chooses the wielder, and not the opposite way around. A bond is formed between the two… Perhaps this is why there are so many variations in the color of a blade, just as there are so many variations among Jedi themselves. Each is different, with unique talents and abilities. In battle, it is this bond that allows a Jedi to keep the mind clear and focused. Listen to the hum of the lightsaber. Listen to the singing within the blade… within its every movement…”

   She made motions with her lightsaber, allowing the hum of its energy to pierce through the silence which hung about the room. “In combat, it is these sounds… these vibrations… this bond between saber and wielder which allows a subject for mental focus and clairvoyance.”

   She deactivated her lightsaber and, with the absence of its sound, the younglings all simultaneously opened their eyes, many trembling with awe. She could tell that they had begun to feel. That they had begun to understand…

   “I hope that clears up some of your questions, at least?” she said, addressing the Mical boy once more.

   “Yes,” he said with a happy nod. “Thank you, Miss Opela.”

   “My pleasure, young one.”

   Glancing in the direction of Halin, she made a subtle gesture for her friend to come join her at the front of the room. Halin hesitated a moment, glancing in the direction of Master Vrook, who gave a disapproving scowl. It was this that sealed Halin’s decision on action, and she stepped forward to the front of the room to join Opela.

   Master Vrook grumbled and turned to Master Vandar. “She shouldn’t be here. I don’t understand what your former Padawan is thinking bringing that troublesome woman here…”

   “Trust in Opela’s judgement, we must, if learn to lead she is,” Master Vandar said in the almost riddle-sounding manner of speech for which his species was best known. “My former Padawan she is, and faith I have in her decision on the matter.”

   Master Vrook thought about further protesting, but surely the students would overhear if they discussed more, and he did not wish to cause a scene at this time.

   “I would like to introduce all of you to one of my fellow Jedi Knights,” Opela said to the class. “This is Halin Chan. She was in the same class as I was here on Dantooine before we were selected as Padawans for training. I’ve invited her here to help me to answer some of your questions, so please, feel free to direct your dialogues to both of us.”

   Halin looked out over the small crowd. None of them seemed particularly exceptional at a first glance, but, then again, she supposed that no one really did at their age. While the Force was strong with all of them, it was understood that a few would never be selected for further training. It was unfortunate, but it was the reality of the situation.

   They answered questions for some time more before one child asked a question which struck Halin in a way that she had not expected: “What was the greatest lesson you learned as a Padawan?”

   Opela was able to answer quite quickly. “For me, the greatest lesson was that no two Jedi share the same relationship with the Force. It flows through each of us differently, and each Jedi feels and wields the Force differently… Understanding this allows for one to understand their own weaknesses and approach how to strengthen them… Halin? What about you?”

   Halin pursed her lips for a moment before starting. “What makes an action good or evil?”

   There was a moment of murmurs across the audience. It was clear that the children were quite confused by this statement. Master Vrook couldn’t help but to roll his eyes at the matter. “There she goes, spouting one of Kreia’s Conundrums,” he muttered to Master Vandar.

   Master Kreia Sana was, in a way, famous for what had become known among the Masters as ‘Kreia’s Conundrums.’ They were seemingly illogical riddles which forced her apprentices to question what they thought that they already knew in order to discover solutions beyond the regular train of thought.

   “Obviously,” spouted a pig-tailed girl with a pinched-up face, “Good actions are done to serve the greater good, and evil actions are done to serve evil purposes.”

   “Ah, but are they? Is it really so simple?.... Let me ask you this: Is killing a man a good act, or is it an evil one?”

   “Evil, clearly.”

   “And is killing a man who is trying to kill another—billions of others, even—evil… or is it good?”

   “A Jedi should never resort to killing.”

   “But you are avoiding my question, young one….”

   It was at this point that Master Vrook felt it necessary to intervene the situation.

   “I think that’s enough questions for one day,” he said, stepping forward. “Thank you, Miss Moraf, for sharing your helpful insight with these aspiring youngsters.”

   Halin breathed, channeling the Force to remain calm so as not to reveal the innermost feelings of betrayal she had for such a reaction. He purposely stopped me… He was afraid of the answer. Afraid for things to not be black and white. Afraid of reality… Afraid of the truth!

   The Masters filed out the students and left the chamber, leaving the two women alone. Opela turned to Halin.

   “Thank you for accepting my invitation. I’m sorry that you did not have the opportunity to share everything that you had hoped… Your lesson was an important one—one that many of them may never decide an answer to themselves…. It is difficult for a Jedi to acknowledge when violence is necessity… We are taught so much that a Jedi is a pacifist, and that such actions lead to the Dark Side… And yet, the cold reality of it all is that even a Jedi must understand when death is necessity… I’m so sorry…”

   “No…” Halin murmured. “No, that is not the answer either. I used to think that it was…that I had finally figured it all out… but lately, I am not so certain. Darkness, Light… Can one even exist without the other? It’s a question I still ask myself… It was Master Sana’s greatest lesson, I believe. One which I’m not yet finished learning… Can I ask you something?”

   “Of course you can.”

   “What did you tell Alex when the two of you were sparring together?... Last week he started spouting all of this nonsense about bonds, except he didn’t seem to understand himself what he was talking about…”

   Opela shook he head a little, holding back a smile. “I merely pointed out what seemed quite obvious from my own point of view: There is a connection between the two of you in the Force—a bond, if you please. I merely pointed out that it seems… different than most bonds of friendship I have seen among Jedi at the Academy. Nothing more. Forgive me if I’ve caused any sort of problems between you and Alex…”

   “No… Not problems, just… well… I don’t really know what to call it, actually. It felt… strange to have such a conversation… I suppose that will pass with time. Then again, I suppose that most bonds are difficult to put properly into words.”

   “That is true.”

   “Thank you, Opela.”

   “For what are you thanking me?”

   “For an act that I perceive as good…. Thank you.”

CHAPTER SIX: DEJARIK [[This chapter is divided into two posts because it exceeds the character limit for one]]

   Halin sat at a round table with a black and white circular checkered pattern. Twenty-five spaces spread across the half meter board that made up the top of the table. Within the confounds of these spaces, eight holographic figures were scattered about, each a miniature of some sort of beast: a Mantellian Savrip, Grimtaash the Molator, a Ghhhk, a Houjix, a Ng’ok, a Kintan Strider, a K’lor’slug, and a M’onnok. They were the pieces to a game known as Dejarik, which Halin had been playing for the last hour or so… Granted, the fact that she didn’t have a proper opponent had resulted in a seemingly endless game of her attempting to out strategize her own moves for lack of anything better to do.

   To Halin, the game was a rather useful strategy exercise. She would have preferred Shah-tezh, but that was far more difficult to come by—at least, on Dantooine. Dejarik, having originated as a variant of Shah-tezh, shared many of the same mechanics, but in a much simplified version of the game. Halin sighed and rested her chin on her fist, staring at the myriad of creatures that littered the board. She was growing tired of playing by herself. Normally she would have asked Alex to join her, though he’d never been very good at the more subtle aspects of the game. However, Alex had extended his time on Taris by another week. He was apparently staying to further study the Jedi Tower there in the city.

   Halin stared at the pieces as they too began to fidget in boredom. It was an amusing little quirk to the game: each of the miniatures so closely resembling their respective creatures, even in their habits and movements when attacking or when idle. The young woman wondered who might be willing to join her… Master Sana had already declined, as she was busy teaching her latest Padawan. Several of the other Masters were also skilled in the game, but each had their own matters to attend to, and Halin was beginning to think that she should just call it quits for the day…

   It was then that she felt a familiar presence moving in the outside hall. Light yet familiar footsteps came closer, but Halin waited until they were passing by the open doorway to call out.

   “Opela,” Halin called, causing the footsteps to stop and then backtrack a few steps. Opela Moraf poked her head into the doorway. “By any chance, do you play Dejarik?”

   “I’ve played before, though I’m afraid I would only be considered an amateur at the game…”

   “Doesn’t matter,” Halin said simply. “Would you be up to playing a game or two? I’m afraid that playing against myself is nothing but a losing effort…”

   “I wouldn’t mind, if just to pass the time…” Opela stepped into the room and sat opposite Halin at the table. “I’m a bit rusty though… would you mind running through the pieces for me? I’m sure I can manage from there.”

   While Halin had originally hoped for more of a challenge, even an amateur match was better than chasing herself in never-ending circles around the board… “Of course. I’ll reset after explaining…”

   Opela nodded in agreement to the plan, and observed quietly as Halin began to explain each of the pieces.

   Halin first indicated a small blue creature with yellow stripes that crawled on four legs and had a spiked tail and massive jaws. “This piece is the Houjix. It is quite agile, and can more a total of four spaces per turn. It has defensive rating of eight and offensive rating of four. Its attack range is one space.”

   She then moved onto the largest piece on the board. It was a hunch-backed semi-sentient reptilian creature that wore a sort of tattered red tunic. “This is the Mantellian Savrip. It can move only one space per turn, but has a defensive rating of nine and an offensive rating of eight, with an attack range of one space.”

   The next creature was an awkwardly proportioned semi-sentient creature of an orangish-whiteish color with long arms that wielded a stone club. “This is the Kintan Strider. It is known to be quite aggressive and has a special ability where it can heal itself by two points at the end of a turn if it has previously been injured. It can move two spaces per turn, has a defensive rating of eight, and an attack rating of four, with an attack range of one space.”

   The next was a purple worm-like creature with a serpentine body. “The next piece is the K’lor’slug. While it can only move one space per turn, it has an attack range of up to four spaces. It has a defensive rating of four and an offensive rating of three.”

   They were half-way through the pieces by now, but Halin began to wonder how long the match would actually take. She hadn’t planned on the need to run through every single piece before starting, and thought that if this were to be the case, she could have very well asked anyone in the Enclave… Despite this, she continued, this time a small green weevil-like creature. “This is the Ghhhk. The creatures are often milked by the Bith because an oil in their skin can be used as a healing salve. It’s unique in that its primary ability is to heal other pieces. A Ghhhk can heal an adjacent creature by two points during its turn in place of attacking. It can move up to two spaces per turn, has a defensive rating of four and, should you choose to attack with it rather than heal, it has an offensive rating of two… shall we continue?”

   Halin hoped that perhaps Opela would have remembered the rest and asked her to stop there, but instead, Opela nodded. “Please do. Forgive me… It’s just that it’s been some time and I want to be sure I fully understand before we begin our game.”

   “Very well then, Halin said, continuing onto a semi-sentient desert creature wielding a long spear. “This is the M’onnok. It has a defensive rating of six and attack rating of six, and can move one space per turn. Its attack range, however, is a bit more complicated. Because of the length of its spear, it can attack two adjacent opponents at once, or it can attack one opponent who is two spaces away.”

   She pointed to the next piece, which was a sickly yellow colored creature with sharp claws and a lashing tail. “This is the Ng’ok. It has a defensive rating of 6, an offensive rating of 4, with an attack range of one and it can move two spaces per turn. What is special about the Ng’ok though is that, because of the creature’s aggressive nature, it is able to attack twice per turn—either two different adjacent opponents, or the same opponent two times.”

   There was only one piece left. It was a purple insect-like creature that seemed almost regal in its stance. “Last, but certainly not least, there is Grimtaash the Molator. In Alderaanian mythology, it is said to use magic to protect the royal family… In Dejarik, it can stun an opponent’s piece for two turns. However, Grimtaash’s offensive rating is only one and it’s defensive rating is four. The range of its stun is three spaces and it can move one space per turn.”

   Having explained all of the pieces, Halin then explained the general movement rules. “Pieces cannot move diagonally across the board but can change directions within the spaces allowed of their movement. The goal is to defeat all of the opponent’s pieces. Either we can each choose four pieces to start (in which case, we may have some of the same pieces, but no more than one of any piece each), or we can have the computer randomly assign them to us (in which case, each piece would be used only once). The computer then rolls dice in order to determine which one of us makes the first move.”

   Opela nodded to signify that she understood the rules that Halin had just laid before her. The mechanics of the game seemed to be simple enough. The true test of skill would be formulation and execution of strategies.

   “I suggest we choose our pieces for the first round,” said Halin, “as a means of easing into gameplay. What do you say?”

   “That seems fair enough,” replied Opela.

   “I’ll choose first,” Halin said. After all, it only seemed fair to give her opponent ample opportunity to develop a counterstrategy in the first playthrough.

   “Very well then,” Opela said, observing Halin’s choices.

   The pieces that Halin chose, were the Kintan Strider on her left defense, M’onnok at left-center, Ng’ok at right center, and the Mantellian Savrip on her right defense. She had chosen an all-out offensive approach to their first game. She was curious to see how Opela would attempt to counter.

   Opela looked at her possibilities. If Halin was going for brute force in their first match, perhaps the best option would be to counter with ranged attacks… Ranged attacks would need something to defend them though. Taking these things into consideration, Opela chose Grimtaash on her left, hoping to prevent the Mantellian Savrip’s movement. She then chose the Ng’ok for left center, the K’lor’slug at right center, and the Kintan Strider at her right defense.

   After they had both chosen their respective pieces, the computer’s randomized generator decided who would go first. This time, it would be Halin.

   Halin began by moving her M’onnok forward one space, toward the center of the board. If she were able to position herself correctly, then she could use the piece to take down more than one of Opela’s at the same time, particularly since Opela’s ranged pieces had a lower defensive rating.

   However, Opela must have noticed this strategy, because she followed it by having Grimtaash stun Halin’s M’onnok. Halin wasn’t terribly concerned about this. Opela had made an amateur mistake when positioning Grimtaash, for it was on the side and in the open, positioned very close to Halin’s Mantellian Savrip, and so Halin began a flank on that side, moving the Mantellian Savrip one space along the outer edge of the circular board. Her plan to flank was quite out in the open, but given that Grimtaash’s stun needed to recharge, there wasn’t any chance of it escaping.

   This, However, did not stop Opela from trying. After all, the Mantellian Savrip had the highest attack and defense of any creature in the game, and should it be able to flank her successfully, it could take out all of her pieces in one go… Opela launched an attack from her K’lor’slug at the Mantellian Savrip. The K’lorslug spit what appeared to be acid in the direction of the Mantellian Savrip, hitting its left arm and causing the creature to shriek in pain. It wouldn’t defeat the creature, but at least it would weaken it a little until she could reach it with a stronger melee attacker.

   As expected, Halin moved her Mantellian Savrip forward another space along the outer edge and, with one blow, clobbered Grimtaash. Having been defeated, the holo image of Grimtaash flickered before it disappeared off of the board. The first piece was down.

   Opela made no hesitation with her next move. Her Ng’ok moved to the space which had been previously occupied by Grimtaash and launched a twofold attack on Halin’s Mantellian Savrip. Since it had been previously weakened by the K’lor’slug, the gargantuan creature collapsed from the Ng’ok’s attack. Now the playing field seemed even again.

   Halin smirked. The two turns of the stun that had been affecting her M’onnok were up, and she was in a prime position now to carry out her original plan. She moved the M’onnok forward to the center space of the board. With the range of its spear, this meant that the M’onnok could reach any space on the board. At this point, Opela was completely at her mercy.

   Halin began by using the M’onnok to take out Opela’s Ng’ok, leaving her with only two pieces on the board. If she were smart about it, Opela would use her Mantellian Savrip to take out the M’onnok before it could do any further damage. Halin waited in anticipation to see what move her companion would play next.

   Sure enough, Opela was no fool. She moved her Mantellian Savrip one square forward, toward the center of the board, and attacked the M’onnok, causing it to give a shriek before it collapsed and the hologram flickered away. Opela thought that the game wasn’t going too badly. After all, they seemed to be pretty evenly matched…

   However, Halin knew that this wasn’t the case. As far as she was concerned, her opponent was already defeated. Confidently, she moved her Ng’ok to the center of the board and launched a double attack on the remaining Mantellian Savrip, weakening it greatly. She knew that Opela would counter by using the Mantellian Savrip to take down the Ng’ok, but she wasn’t concerned about this.

   Sure enough, Opela took the bait and fell directly into Halin’s trap. The Mantellian Savrip easily overpowered the Ng’ok. Opela was quite excited about this. After all, Halin had been slightly ahead of her in taking out pieces since the beginning of the game. Now, she thought that she had managed to turn the tides.

   Halin had one more trick up her sleeve for the round though. She moved her Kintan Strider forward to the center square and attacked the Mantellian Savrip. In its weakened state, the Mantellian Savrip could not resist the attack and fell before the holo image sputtered away. From this position, there was nowhere that the K’lor’slug could run to and hide.

   Hopeless as it was, Opela decided to attack anyway, causing minimal damage to the Kintan Strider with her only remaining K’lor’slug before the larger orangish animal hopped forward and beat the purple one over the head with its club, knocking the creature out. The match was over.

   “I have to say,” said Halin, “I admire you for not just forfeiting the game at that point, and for playing to the end.”

   “What fun would it have been if I quit?” Opela laughed, seemingly unupset by her loss. “Besides, it’s interesting to see the creatures launch their attacks on one another. They’re quite lifelike in their movements.”

   Halin couldn’t help but to laugh a little at her friend’s reaction. “I suppose they are… I would never have thought you the type to enjoy watching such animations though.”

   Opela simply shrugged. “Shall we play again?”

   “Sure! If you’re up for another game… Do you think you’re ready to play randomized, or would you prefer if we continued in picking. I promise you that I’ll pick different creatures this time if we do.”

   “No, that won’t be necessary. Let’s play randomized this time. After all, then I’ll get to see all of the types of pieces in motion…”

   Halin smiled and reset the board before selecting the randomizer to assign pieces to the two of them. The game placed four pieces on either side of the board. For Opela, her pieces were the K’lor’slug on her left, the Kintan Strider left center, Grimtaash right center, and the Ng’ok far right. She had ended up with most of the same pieces that she had used in the previous game, except that this time they were in different positions on the board.

   Halin’s smiled faltered a little when she saw the pieces that she had been given. On her far left, she had been given the Mantellian Savrip, the Houjix middle left, the M’onnok center right, and the Ghhhk on the far right. The Ghhhk, which was only a support piece, was out in the open, even if only on the side with the K’lorslug rather than a melee attacker. Halin hated when she ended up with the Ghhhk. While the piece could be useful under certain circumstances, it certainly put the player at a disadvantage if working purely offensively…

   The computer decided that this time Opela would have the first move. She began by having the K’lor’slug attack the Mantellian Savrip, and the larger creature groaned as a shot of acid from the smaller one hit it straight on. Halin didn’t want to have to wait on reaching the K’lor’slug, so she had the Houjix race forward and take out the K’lor-slug in one foul swoop, its toothy jaws clenching the spindly purple creature before it disappeared entirely.

   Opela was a bit disappointed by this. She had enjoyed using the K’lor’slug. It had served her well in the previous match, and she had hoped to use it for longer in this one… There was no changing what had already been done though. Instead, she sent her Ng’ok forward to continue the assault on the Mantellian Savrip, this time, knocking it out with a double attack.

   Halin countered by having the M’onnok move around the outside of the board. From this position it was just close enough to reach the Ng’ok with its spear, eliminating the creature from the playing field entirely. Perhaps if she were lucky, she wouldn’t have to use the Ghhhk at all.

   Opela moved Grimtaash one space closer to the center of the gameboard and used its attack to stun the M’onnok. If the M’onnok couldn’t move, then perhaps she could position the Kintan Strider to be able to take it out.

   However, this plan had failed to take into account the existence of the Houjix. Halin sent the electric blue creature to the center space and had it attack Grimtaash, causing Grimtaash’s defeat and simultaneously blocking the Kintan Strider’s path to the M’onnok. It was three-to-one now, and things certainly weren’t looking up for Opela Moraf.

   In a slight panic, Opela moved the Kintan Strider forward toward center and used it to attack the Houjix, bringing it down to half of its beginning health. There wasn’t much else left that she could do…

   The Houjix countered with an attack on the Kintan Strider, also bringing it down to half of its beginning health. “Are you sure you don’t just want to forfeit?” Halin asked her. After all, there was no hope in the given situation of the game… While Halin had known that Opela wasn’t the most skilled in physical combat, she had hoped that the young woman would have provided more of a challenge in strategizing…

   Opela chuckled nervously. She knew that the other was right. There wasn’t any chance of her defeating Halin unless the latter should make some sort of critical error in the movement of the M’onnok… and even then, Opela knew that if she did, it would simply be out of pity to give her a chance at recovery before defeat. “Nonsense!” she insisted. “We’ll play to the end. I’ll get you next time—just wait and see.” And with this, she had the Kintan Strider attack the Houjix, defeating it and simultaneously recovering some of its previously lost health.

   Halin just shook her head and sending the M’onnok forward one space toward the Kintan Strider. The M’onnok thrust out its sharp spear, piercing the Kintan Strider and causing it to collapse before disappearing. “And you’re sure then that you would like a rematch?” Halin asked her. At this point, Halin thought that it might be better to go back to playing against herself.

   “I’m positive,” Opela replied. “Let’s play random again. It was more fun that way, I think. After all, you never know what creature’s you’re going to get…”

   “If you say so…”

CHAPTER SIX: DEJARIK [[This post is a continuation of the previous chapter, since it exceeded the post character limit]]

   Halin reset the board and selected the randomizer again. She had to agree in that the randomized version was more fun to play. It forced you to come up with a variety of strategies based upon what pieces you were given at the beginning. The pieces were placed again.

   “Are you kidding me!?” Halin couldn’t help her exclamation from coming out. There sat the Ghhhk again, in the same exact open side space on her team as it had been last time. Opela couldn’t help but to giggle at the other woman’s reaction.

   “I take it you’re not very fond of the Ghhhk?”

   “Not when it seems to be clinging to me like lice to bantha…”

   “Relax… you have other pieces… And besides, you’ve beaten me twice already. I’m sure you can come up with some sort of strategy to beat me again, even if you do have a Ghhhk. You had the Ghhhk last time too, after all…”

   “Which is precisely why I’m upset to have it again. It literally just sat there the whole game…”

   “Who knows? Maybe it will come in useful this one.”

   “You’re just so optimistic because it’s not on your side.”

   “Well…” Opela began, scratching the back of her head sheepishly.

   Halin rolled her eyes. “The randomizer decided I’ll get to go first this time,” she said. She supposed that she would just have to manage again with the Ghhhk on her side. At least she got the M’onnok on her side again too…

   Halin’s creatures from left to right were the M’onnok, Grimtaash, the Ng’ok, and the Ghhhk. This time, Opela’s creatures were the Kintan Strider on her far left, followed by the K’lor’slug, then the Houjix, and the Mantellian Savrip rounding things out on her right. It was a pretty good setup for Opela’s pieces, but such was the difficulty with the randomizer. Much of how one needed to play the game was based on the luck of the draw at the very beginning.

   Halin began on the offensive, moving her M’onnok around the edge of the board and attacked the Mantellian Savrip from a distance. The M’onnok’s sharp spear stretched forward, stabbing the Savrip, casing the creature to let out a grunt. It wouldn’t be enough to defeat the thing, but at least it had done a significant amount of damage. Halin realized that, by making this move, she would be sacrificing the M’onnok early on. She thought, after having made the move, that perhaps it would have been better to stun the thing first with Grimtaash and then launch her attack. It was too late now though. Her mind was so distracted this game…

   Opela made the obvious move. The wounded Mantellian Savtrip sauntered forward and picked the M’onnok up briefly before slamming it down onto the gameboard, causing the creature to disappear. The first creature had been defeated—and it was only the end of the very first round…

   Halin could see that she was going to have to take things more seriously and avoid distractions if she were going to win this time around. This being said, she decided it was time finally to use Grimtaash to stun Opela’s Mantellian Savrip. Stunning did almost no damage, and Halin wasn’t certain yet if it was enough to be able to recover from her initial error in judgement, but if she didn’t stop the Savrip now, it could sweep her entire left flank.

   With her Mantellian Savrip having been halted, it seemed that Opela would need to come up with a different sort of attack plan. Having sacrificed the M’onnok, Halin only had one more offensive piece left on the board—the Ng’ok. With this in mind, Opela had her K’lor’slug attack the Ng’ok from a distance.

   Halin knew that she had to find some way of blocking the K’lor’slug’s attacks while she got close enough to make a move. Perhaps the Ghhhk is good for something after all, she thought. If she played her pieces right, she could maneuver around using the Ghhhk to heal and as a shield while she got in position to make her attack. It was a long shot, but it was at least worth a try. Halin moved the Ghhhk between the Ng’ok and the K’lor’slug and used its turn to heal the injured Ng’ok. If anything, the strategy would buy her time.

   Opela saw what Halin was trying to do in blocking her K’lor’slug’s attack and decided it would be best to counter with melee. She sent the Houjix forward to the Ng’ok’s right (where the Ghhhk had sat previously) and attacked, severely injuring the Ng’ok, but not so much so that the creature was gone entirely.

   “You schutta!” Halin exclaimed.

   Opela’s eyes widened. While she’d not heard that particular choice phrase before, she could tell from the context that it certainly wasn’t a compliment. “Halin! It’s just a game. No need to get so worked up about it…”

   Halin muttered something incoherent under her breath before ordering the Ng’ok to execute the Houjix. For a moment, Opela debated a snarky comeback about striking someone down in anger being the path to the dark side, but decided that it would be in poor taste to do so and instead refrained. While she didn’t understand why, she could tell that, for Halin, it seemed to be a bit more than just a game…

   With her Houjix now gone, and her Kintan Strider in no position to attack, Opela used to K’lor’slug to attack the Ghhhk, which Halin had been using as a sort of sacrificial shied for the Ng’ok. The Ghhhk didn’t have a very high defensive rating, and so it wouldn’t take too long to break through. After all, while it could heal other creatures, its ability did not extend to healing itself as far as she was aware.

   However, Opela had forgotten about Grimtaash and her Mantellian Savrip. Grimtaash’s stun had reset by now, and so Halin used it to stun the K’lorslug this time. Now, Opela would be forced to approach the Ng’ok directly if she wanted to be able to attack. Cautiously, Opela inched the Kintan Strider closer to the Ng’ok and to the Ghhhk. Halin chose to do the same, moving the Ng’ok closer, knowing full well that, in hand-to-hand combat, the Ng’ok had the advantage.

   The stunning of the K’lor’slug had reminded Opela that the Mantellian Savrip was now able to move and, hoping to flank Halin’s remaining pieces from both sides and surround them, she moved the Mantellian Savrip closer toward Grimtaash the Molator.

   This game seemed far more intense than the other two had. It had already gone on longer than the previous, and each player still had three of their pieces remaining.

   Halin was glad that Opela had chosen to leave the Kintan Strider stationary for the time being. It gave her time to move the Ghhhk shield to follow the Ng’ok, and once again, she used it to heal the creature, being very careful to keep the Ghhhk between the Ng’ok and K’lor’slug. If she could maneuver her pieces correctly, there might still be a chance of taking out the remaining creatures.

   This time, however, Opela was much more aware of the timing of when Grimtaash’s stun would wear off. She used her K’lor’slug to attack the Ghhhk, defeating the creature and removing it from play. Now, there was no more shield left for Halin’s Ng’ok.

   Dammit, Halin thought. She had been counting on Opela using either the Kintan Strider or the Mantellian Savrip. It seemed like hand-to-hand, like in real-life, was not Opela’s preferred style of combat. If only I had stunned the Savrip at the beginning so I could have kept the M’onnok…

   There was no changing the past now though. Instead, Halin used Grimtaash to stun the Mantellian Savrip again. Whether melee was Opela’s style or not, it didn’t change the fact that Halin didn’t stand a chance if the Mantellian Savrip were able to launch an attack. The Mantellian Savrip was extremely low in health now. At this rate, even another stun from Grimtaash could bring the thing down.

   The Kintan strider moved forward, attacking Grimtaash, and the blow brought down the violet guardian creature. Things weren’t looking good for Halin. She had to make a choice---forfeit, or play to the end. Halin wasn’t one to give up though. Such would be a sign of weakness. She had just complimented Opela for not giving up the game before. It would be hypocritical of her to do so now for herself…

   Swallowing a lump of her own pride, Halin backtracked the Ng’ok to attack the Kintan Strider. She wondered if this had been Opela’s plan from the beginning. The Kintan Strider Death Gambit… It was a risky tactical move in Dejarik, where one sacrificed the Kintan Strider in order to launch a deadlier attack. Being unable to reach the K’lor’slug because of the position of the Kintan Strider, Halin had been forced into the trap. This would be the end of things….

   The Kintan Strider collapsed and flickered away before Opela launched one final attack from the K’lor’slug, stopping the Ng’ok in its tracks and defeating the last of Halin’s creatures. The game was over.

   “….That was a good game,” Halin admitted, her voice unusually frail. She hadn’t expected to lose, particularly with Opela’s set of skills. But perhaps there was a lesson for Halin in all of this….

   Halin stood. “I apologize… I’m tired and feel I need to meditate. Congratulations.”

   “Stopping so soon?” Opela said, a bit confused by the reaction. “I was sure you wanted to play longer…”

   “I really must,” replied Halin. “Thank you for your time.”

   And with this, Halin Chan retired to her chambers. What had happened in that game had shown her that there was much still to be learned—not about Dejarik, but about being a Jedi. There was much training still before her, much skill to be learned, much discovery to be made… It was only after this that she would be able to become a truly great Jedi---the one that Master Kreia had always seen within.

CHAPTER SEVEN: THE MESSAGE FROM TALON CHAN

   A year had passed since the game of Dejarik between Halin and Opela—the day when Halin had decided to begin anew, conditioning her mind, her body, her skills… Since that day she had determined that this would be her destiny. There was no longer any doubt in her mind about the path of the Jedi. She was Halin Chan of Deralia, Jedi Knight of the Galactic Republic. And one day, she would sit on the Council as one of the Masters.

   Her match with Opela Moraf had made her realize that she did not yet had much still to learn in the ways of a Jedi. Even after all of Master Kreia’s lessons, there were holes in her education that needed to be filled. There were weaknesses that needed to be strengthened. There were questions that needed to be answered. There was so much about technique, and about the Force that she did not yet understand. How else could she have been defeated in such a way by a person who considered herself (and had proven herself) to be an amateur?

   She had apprenticed herself to more than one Master during time. The first were Master Zhar Lestin and Master Dorak on Dantooine. Both greatly admired the young woman’s eagerness to learn, and were consequently eager to teach. It was during this period of study that Halin gained further mastery of lightsaber forms from the former, and of meditation techniques from the latter.

   Her companion, Alex, insisted upon the same. Halin found this to be quite funny at times. After all, he was almost like a little child, always wanting to be included in whatever activities were going on. Halin rather enjoyed the company though, so she didn’t mind. After all, Alex had spent part of his time as a Padawan under Master Zhar, and so his insight proved helpful in grasping several of the concepts.

   In the second half of the year, Halin was able to transfer to Coruscant. On Coruscant, Halin rediscovered her insatiable lust for knowledge. She spent much of her time in the Archives, though she was quite careful to stick to unrestricted materials, given her past.

   It was during this time on Coruscant that Halin apprenticed herself to Master Arren Kae. Master Kae had some Echani training, was quite skilled in unarmed combat, and was also skilled in a variety of Force techniques, such as using the Force for stealth camouflage, and to revitalize one’s allies. Halin had admired Master Kae’s abilities from afar for some time.

   It was from Master Kae that Halin first heard about a technique called the Battle Meditation. While Master Kae was not a practitioner herself (as the inherent ability to do so was quite rare, even among the most exceptional of the Jedi Masters) it was a technique Halin was quite curious about, and researched what she could, but it did not seem that she would ever be able to use. The idea behind the technique was that the meditation influenced both one’s allies and one’s opponents, strengthening the resolve and the morale of one’s allies, while instilling doubt and uncertainty among one’s enemies. It was a purely psychological technique that could often influence the outcome of a battle. Currently, there were no practitioners among the order, which Halin thought was a true pity.

   During this period of her study, many of the Masters began to see Halin Chan in a new light. The cocky and overconfident girl had been replaced with a blossoming wise woman who embodied the practices of the Jedi with every fiber of her being. She was finally growing up.

   Halin sat meditating in her chamber in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. Her mind remained calm and placid, like a glassy lake—completely still, and yet the stillness was such a delicate thing that any disturbance could easily cast ripples and eventually waves across its entire surface. It was all so very fragile… For beneath the cool and placid façade of the surface, deep and powerful currents of emotions remained suppressed below. The wrong trigger and they could come gushing forth like a geyser. It all required great focus to keep the calm. And even then, perhaps all of it were merely an illusion.

   Halin felt electrical vibrations approaching from outside of the chamber. Her eyes flew open and a few nearby books that had been suspended in the air fell to the ground with a thud. Halin stood, collecting herself, and went to the door of the chamber, opening it in time to see the silvery body of a protocol droid poised to knock.

   “Oh!” the droid exclaimed in surprise. “Mistress Halin, there is a transmission request for you from a Lieutenant Talon Chan.”

   “Talon?” Halin repeated. It had been some time since she’d heard the name. They hadn’t communicated since their accidental encounter on Coruscant a year prior. A knot began to form in Halin’s stomach. If he were contacting her now, then that must mean….

   “Did he happen to say what the request was about?” She asked.

   “No,” the droid replied, “all he said was that it was urgent he speak to Halin Chan immediately.”

   Her mind, which had been so calm only moments prior, began to race with thoughts of what things could mean. The placidity of the lake was shattered. “Send the transmission through. I would prefer to take it in private, thank you.”

   “As you wish, Mistress Halin,” the droid said, and it turned, hurrying back down the hall. Halin closed the door and paced around the small chamber before the communicator on the wall lit up and a transmission came through. Talon’s face flashed on the screen. The man looked utterly exhausted. His eyes were dim and void of life, and his face was lined with concern. He would have almost been unrecognizable had the droid not informed her first as to who was calling. Despite all of this, his expression softened somewhat when Halin’s face appeared.

   Halin’s heart raced. She had heard that the situation with the Mandalorians had intensified, and that many suspected the Republic to be on the verge of full-on war. Talon’s call now could only mean the worst.

   “I was beginning to worry,” Talon admitted. “When you weren’t still on Dantooine, I thought it might prove impossible to contact you in time. However, someone there was kind enough to inform me of your transfer. Normally I would have said that congratulations are in order, but given the current state of things, it hardly seems like time for such…”

   Halin swallowed. “How bad are things? I’ve heard rumors, but nothing more…”

   “Deralia was lucky,” said Talon, forcing a sort of bittersweet and almost morbid smile. “The Mandalorians must have not thought such a planet worth their bother. The small force that attacked us seemed to simply be a unit that broke off from the main, and was acting on their own. We were able to repel them, but not without casualties… While most of the casualties were military, there were civilian attacks that resulted in civilian casualties as well… Halin… Mother and father are among those who were not so lucky as to survive the attack… Their apartment in the Capitol was close to one of the bombings. Not many were able to be pulled from the rubble…”

   Halin went pale. While the news she had been expecting certainly wasn’t good news, this was not the bad news that she had expected. She wasn’t sure how she felt… how she should feel…. While they were her parents, they were also complete strangers. Why should their death strike her any differently than the millions of others who had died as a result of the Mandalorian attacks? She swallowed, her eyes meeting Talon’s again after having been distant for some time. “And what has happened in regard to the Mandalorians’ position since?”

   “They seem to be heading along the Gordian Reach, deeper into Republic space—away from Deralia, but toward plenty of other systems. With their current attack patterns, I anticipate that they will engage the Republic directly very soon…”

   The face of the galaxy as they knew it was beginning to change, and if something was not done about it, then everything that they knew—everything thing that the Republic stood for—would be lost.

   “Halin,” Talon continued very seriously, “something must be done about this. If the Mandalorians are not stopped—”

   “I know, Talon. I know… I promised you I would come, and I intend to keep that promise… but I need to discuss this with the Jedi Council first. If the Republic should fall to the Mandalorians, countless lives will be lost beyond what occurred on Deralia… Please offer mother and father my respects. I only regret that I cannot do so in person.”

   Talon nodded silently. “….When should I expect you?”

   “I’m not certain yet… I’ll contact you once I can offer any further information.”

   “Understood.”

   There was another moment of silence. Both were unsure of what to say to the other. It was a strange circumstance that they were in—a brother and a sister, separated by peace and only brought together by war. Neither knew how to express their own feelings on the situation. There was only a silent and solemn understanding of grief which passed between them.

CHAPTER EIGHT: THE AID OF THE COUNCIL

   The message had been broadcast on all of the holo-news feeds within Republic space—the Republic was officially at war with the Mandalorians. A seemingly unprovoked attack lead by Mandalore the Ultimate against the scientific research station in orbit of the planet Flashpoint had been the final nail in the coffin. Since it was a scientific research station, there hadn’t been military defenses in place, and so it fell quite easily. The problem that this presented, however, was the station’s proximity to other densely populated Republic worlds, particularly the planetary metropolis known as Taris. With so many lives at stake, the Republic could not afford to ignore the threat any longer.

   Saul Karath, a Captain of the Republic Military’s naval forces, had been forced to take action in protecting Taris by the formation of a blockade, stretching from Jebble to Vanquo to Tarnith to form a protective barrier between Flashpoint Station and Taris. Tensions were quite high. Until now, there had been little to no opposition to the Mandalorians, and they had already succeeded in conquering much of non-Republic space along the space-Eastern side of the Outer Rim.

   The sudden shift in current events had resulted in many questions being raised. What actions would be taken by the Republic in order to counter the Mandalorians? Was there any hope in defeating them, or was the Republic doomed to fall to this warrior race? And what action would the Jedi Council—sworn defenders of peace and of democracy—take against this Mandalorian threat?

   Master Kavar had been previously sent by the Jedi Council in order to investigate the Mandalorians’ presence and actions on the Outer Rim in the past year. He had witnessed firsthand (albeit deliberately without any direct involvement) the destruction that the Mandalorian race was bringing upon the galaxy. As was his assignment, he reported back an unbiased witness account of what had occurred over the year and, while the damage had been severe, he could find no evidence of it being linked in any way to the Force, or to a resurgence of the Sith.

   Since the time of the Great Sith War, the Jedi had been quite careful to avoid conflict. They did not wish to enter in any further unnecessary bloodshed. As far as could be seen from the actions thus far, this one seemed to be an ordinary war without any involvement of wielders of the Force. This was the Republic’s War.

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   Halin Chan stood outside of the doors to the Council Chamber in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. Her heart raced and her mind spun as she thought about what needed to be done. The war had started. There was no denying its existence any longer. She knew in her heart what needed to be done… what action needed to be made… she only hoped that the Council’s striving for peace would not be so foolish as to overshadow the necessity to protect the infrastructure of the Republic.

   The doors to the Council Chamber opened before her. This was the moment which she had been waiting for. This was the thing which needed to be done before she would be able to fulfill her promise to Talon. She needed the permission of the Council in order to enlist in the Jedi’s own force against the Mandalorians. Her own parents had died as a result of the Mandalorians’ attacks, and while Deralia had emerged from the conflict relatively unscathed (particularly when compared to countless other planets which had been attacked), more would suffer the same fate or worse if something was not done in order to stop their advance on Republic space. She needed to make sure that this would not happen.

   Halin stepped forward entering the chamber, her robes fluttering behind her briefly in the initial difference of air pressure between the room and the hall outside. She had rehearsed the situation several times in her head. If all went correctly, there was no doubt in her mind that she would be able to convince the Council to send her. Her training had more than proven her capable of the task. Surely they would be able to see that.

   “Troubled your mind seems, young Halin,” Master Tokare said when the young woman stopped center room. “A question for the Council you have, no doubt.”

   Halin knelt before them, bowing her head in a sign of reverence. “It is not so much a question that I come bearing as it is a request: the Mandalorians’ will stop at nothing in their quest for conquering the Galaxy. Action must be taken if the Republic is to maintain stability…”

   “We assure you, Halin Chan, that action is already being taken. As we speak, the Republic is mounting a defensive blockade in order to protect the planet of Taris which is currently threatened by the location of the conflict.,” spoke another Master.

   Halin simply shook her head, keeping it bowed. “The Council misunderstands my request. I ask that I am allowed to accompany the Jedi task force which will be aiding the Republic in their efforts against the Mandalorians.”

   The Masters looked at one another. They had not expected such a request to come, particularly so quickly after war had been declared. The silence was so thick that it could have been sliced with a knife. Halin remained kneeling, her head bowed. Finally, she received her answer.

    “The Council does not intend to take action against the Mandalorian threat,” Master Vrook Lamar finally replied.

   Halin raised her head abruptly, slowly looking around at the members of the Council in disbelief as she rose to her feet. “Surely this cannot be the Council’s final decision on the matter…”

   “The duty of the Jedi is to protect the Republic against the threat of the Sith. The Mandalorians are not our concern.”

   “Protecting the lives of billions of innocent people who have fallen victim to their lust for war and who will continue to die if we do nothing… Of course that is our business! I was under the impression that Jedi were to protect the defenseless and the innocent. Are you telling me now that I was mistaken?”

   “Mind your emotions, young one,” Master Atris commented. “There is wisdom in the Council’s decision. We have only just finished our own war. We need not carelessly enter another when the Republic is capable of fighting their own battles. We are not soldiers…”

   “And if the Republic should fall, what then?”

   “The Council will debate this topic no longer, Halin Chan. The Republic will have to fight their war without the Jedi. This is our final decision.”

   Halin stood, dumbfounded. She could not believe what she was hearing. Here was the time when the Republic needed the aid of the Jedi the most… and yet the Jedi High Council had decided that the Order would do nothing!? She could feel the formerly placid lake of emotions begin to stir and to gurgle. This was not right. She could feel it. Something must be done…

   Without a word, Halin bowed out and exited the High Council Chamber. How would she be able to keep her promise to Talon and to her people if the Jedi Council had decreed that no action was to be taken at all? The decision had arisen questions within her—questions to which she needed guidance and counsel to answer…

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   Halin packed up any necessary items and boarded the next shuttle from Coruscant to Dantooine. Despite her fondness for the city life, she now understood why so many Jedi chose to remain in the Enclave on Dantooine. Dantooine was removed from the politics of Coruscant. One could choose to ignore them if they wished without the constant barrage of information. While the code taught that there was no ignorance, only knowledge, Halin could see how partial ignorance could be bliss. To be blissfully unaware of the magnitude of a problem seemed far better at times than knowing so much but being able to do nothing. At that point, one only began to feel helpless.

   The trip was a bit of a long one. After all, there were no direct hyperspace routes between the two planets, so the journey ended up either requiring shifts between three routes, or an alternative calculation not on the regular maps. Halin wanted to use the time to check the progress of the Republic against the Mandalorians’ advance, but a part of her told her to wait. After all, it was difficult enough as is to ignore the situation. The apathy made her feel as though she were rotting away at her core. It was disturbing to her senses, and no matter how much she tried, she could not find the mental peace required to enter into a state of meditation.

   When she finally landed on Dantooine and entered the Enclave, the place felt different to her. The quietness was like a welcome solitude after her restless flight from Coruscant. It was good for her to be here not only for the peace of mind it gave, but also because Master Kreia was on Dantooine. If anyone were able to answer her questions, it would be Master Kreia. Beyond being a historian and one of the keepers of the Jedi archives, Kreia was a very wise woman. Even after graduating from being her apprentice during her time as a Padawan, Halin still held a great respect for the woman, and valued her opinions on the Force, and on life and morality.

   Master Kreia Sana was in one of the many meditation chambers in the Enclave when Halin found her. The Master could feel the presence of her former apprentice even before Halin had entered the room. “Your mind is troubled, my former Padawan,” the old woman said, seemingly without breaking her trance. “You come seeking answers.”

   “Yes, Master Kreia. I am… disturbed by the recent actions of the Jedi Council… Or rather, by the recent inaction of…”

   “Their actions disturb you, you say… yet I sense that there is more that you seek than a mere peace of mind. You disagree with the Council’s decision.”

   “Yes, Master… I feel that the Republic is doomed to collapse without the aid of the Jedi… The Mandalorians have already shown to the galaxy that they are a far greater threat than just small raids in a few planets among the Outer Rim… If the Republic should fail to repel them, it could mean greater consequences for the Order as well. It seems that the Council has not bothered to take such into consideration… that they underestimate the power of Mandalore the Ultimate…”

   “And why is it that you seek me in this matter? From your words, from your emotions… I can tell that you have already made up your mind on this matter. You are determined not to remain indifferent toward the Republic’s cause.”

   Halin hesitated a moment in fear. “I… I know that to defy the Council’s wishes in such a way could be seen as an act of treason against the Jedi Order… That they would be likely to cast me out, and that I could remain a Jedi no longer…”

   “You understand all of this, and yet you wish to do so, regardless of the consequences?”

   “Yes, Master Kreia. I… I cannot stand idly by while billions die as a result of this war… If I can help, even if only a little bit, then I must… You used to tell me that I was destined for great things… Perhaps this is my fate. Perhaps it is my destiny to aid the Republic in this time of need… even if it should cost me my identity… even if it should cost me my life…”

   A small smile appeared on Master Kreia’s lips. “One’s identity is not determined by what titles they hold, Halin Chan. It is not determined by their name, or by where they come from… One’s identity is determined by the choices they make and by the imprint they leave within the Force.”

   “I suppose then that my question is not what to do… but rather how to do it? What if, by leaving the Order, by entering war, I should be seduced by and consumed by the dark side of the Force? Just as so many were during the Great Sith War?”

   “Do you really believe to fall is so simple?” Master Kreia posed question to Halin. “There are plenty who have left the Order for various reasons and yet were not consumed as you say… To leave and to fall… they are two different things entirely. It is quite simple really, to leave without falling…”

   “And how, pray tell, is one to do that?”

   “The same way that you always have, Halin. I posed this question to you once before, and I pose it to you again now: What makes an action good or evil?”

   Halin thought about this. It was the same one of Kreia’s questions that she had posed to the Younglings before… “I… I do not know the answer to that…”

   “Ah, but you do… There is more wisdom within you than you credit yourself for, Halin Chan… Trust in your feelings. Trust in the Force… It is this answer which is also the answer to your own question… I cannot stop you from leaving the Order, nor do I wish to. This is a choice that you must make of your own free will. Likewise, I cannot tell you how not to fall. I can only guide you so far… Know this though: either way, you will no longer be the Jedi you were before. For better or for worse, you will not be the same Halin Chan. Already you are changed. Is this something that you are ready to accept?”

   Halin sighed. Her mind and her emotions were torn in every direction. All she had known her entire lifetime was the Jedi Order. She had held their values as her own for so long… and now, it seemed as though those values were a lie. The Jedi High Council’s decisions now conflicted with her own values, despite her belief that the two were one and the same. The choice now had to be made, whether to uphold the values of the Council, or uphold the values in her heart.

CHAPTER NINE: WHAT IS IN A NAME?

   Halin Chan roamed the corridors of the Jedi Enclave on Dantooine, the hood of her cloak pulled over her head in order to hide her face and the silent tears that rolled down her cheeks. She wanted to take one last walk through these halls before such a time as she knew she would be welcome there no longer. Her childhood, her memories, her past life… everything she had known until that moment echoed residual energy that could be felt through the Force. For one last time, she would drink it all in. After her decision had been made, there would be no turning back.

   “Halin?”

   Halin froze at the sound of her name, but dared not look up. She knew Alex’s voice all too well. She had almost hoped not to run into him while she was here. After all, how could she possibly hope to explain to her closest friend that she intended to abandon all that either of them had known their whole lives through?

   Alex Kharr could feel a strange disturbance in his friend’s thoughts, but her own mental blocks prevented him from seeing the cause of her torment. This worried Alex. It was not like Halin to be so evasive, particularly toward him. Something must have happened to her…

   “Halin, please speak to me. Something is bothering you—I can tell… Please, whatever it is, you know that you can trust me…”

   He waited for a reply from her, but all that came was a sigh. Unable to endure her silence any further, Alex reached out, placing one hand on Halin’s shoulder and turning her toward him while removing the hood of her cloak with the other. It was then that he saw her tear-filled eyes which were so full of uncertainty. A piece of him shattered inside at seeing his dear friend in such a state. Trembling and without thinking, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into an embrace.

   Halin nearly choked in her attempt to hold back a sob. She tried gently at first to push him away, but he held her fast. “Halin, please tell me…”

   “I’m not Halin,” she said in a trembling voice. “Not any more…” And she pushed him away more forcefully this time, escaping his arms and stepping backwards in order to put space between them.

   Alex looked at her, confused. “I don’t understand…” He stepped forward, reaching out to her again, but she raised a hand and called upon the Force in order to create a stasis field, freezing him in his tracks. He could still see her, still hear her… but he would not be able to approach her.

   “You are a good friend, Alex… but I cannot explain to you here… If you truly wish to know, meet me in the grove at sundown. This may be the last time that we see one another…”

   With these words, she pulled the hood of her cloak back over her head and stepped backward further, seemingly fading into nothingness as she used the Force to camouflage herself in stealth. It was a technique she had learned under Master Arren Kae that had mostly fallen out of use with the disappearance of the Jedi Watchmen.

   The stasis field lasted no longer than a minute, but by that time, Halin Chan was long gone. Alex was having difficulty understanding what she had told him. How could she not be Halin? How could she not be the woman he had grown to admire and to love?

   He determined to meet her in the grove as she had told him. There were answers he needed from her. He needed to know what this change in her was, and why it had happened.

><><><><><

The woman formerly known as Halin Chan sat under a tree near a set of crumbling white stone pillars in the grove, turning something over and over in her hand. It was the Kyber crystal that she had won from Alex a year before, when they had both been fully accepted into the Order as Jedi Knights. Recently, the thing had undergone a drastic change. Whether intentional or not, it seemed that she had been slowly becoming attuned with the crystal. Its formerly clear and resplendent myriad of facets that had previously reflected so many colors and possibilities had changed to a smoky amethyst color.

It was an unusual color that only occurred among those who walked a fine line between Jedi and Sith. It was this thought that startled her perhaps more than the war itself. It was part of why she felt so strongly about speaking to Master Kreia about the matter. However, even this conversation had left her with a sense of uncertainty. She knew and understood that, for the Jedi, the risk of corruption was a very real thing… to be consumed by lust for power to a point where it overshadowed all else… To walk the thin line between the two was no easy feat. By leaving the Order and going to war against the Mandalorians, it was her burden from this point on.

Master Kreia had seemed alarmingly unconcerned about her taking up such a task. A part of her had wished that the old woman would have tried to talk her down from such a rash decision… And yet, it had seemed as if the Jedi Master always knew this would be the case…

Footsteps approached, and the young woman instinctively drew her lightsaber, it’s Veridian blade illuminating the darkness of the newly fallen cloak of night. However, when she saw who approached, she withdrew the blade and returned the hilt of her saber to her belt. It was Alex.

“So you came after all…”

“Of course I did! How could I not come after seeing you in such a state?”

“The state I was in may yet be overshadowed by the state in which I may become…”

Alex was even more confused than before. “Halin, what are you talking about? It’s not like you to speak in riddles and to be so evasive. Please, tell me what is going on…”

“I told you before, I am not Halin Chan… Not any more, at least… I must ask you… what would you do if you found out that everything you believed in wasn’t what you thought it to be?”

Alex didn’t like the sound of where this was going. “Where are you going with this?...”

“I’ve decided to leave the Jedi Order, Alex,” she said with as much authority as she could muster. “I refuse to sit idly by in wake of the Council’s decision to not aid the Republic in their war against the Mandalorians. I refuse to believe that any true Jedi would be able to do so… My people have suffered because of this war, Alex. So many other peoples have suffered, and are suffering still, and will continue to suffer if no action is taken!”

Alex was surprised by such news. War had been declared so very recently that he had not expected the Council to have made any sort of final decision on the matter yet. “And you are certain that this was their final decision on the matter?”

The woman nodded. “That is what I was told by the Masters themselves…. And that is why I can no longer be Halin Chan. Halin Chan is a Knight of the Order. She is respected by her colleagues and by her mentors, and will always have a place among them… But I am not Halin. Not any more… In the ancient Deralian tongue, there is word that that is difficult to translate into Basic. It means something along the lines of ‘an act of presumed evil done for the sake of justice being served to the innocent’… In Basic it’s quite a mouthful, but in old Derlaian, it is one word… From this point forward, I am not Halin Chan. I am the Revanchist.”

Revanchist…

The word seemed to echo through the emptiness of the night, and it sent chills down Alex’s spine. His friend was choosing a very dangerous path if she meant to defy the Council. The fact that she had gone so far as to change her name meant that she was serious about the matter.

“Is the Revanchist capable of fulfilling promises that were made by Halin Chan?” Alex asked her.

Halin hesitated. She wasn’t certain what promise he was referring to… but perhaps it would be for the better. After all, everything would change after this point. “The Revanchist is always true to her promises, whether those promises were made by herself or by Halin Chan… What is it that you wish of me?”

“You promised me that you would let me come if you ran off one day to help those affected by this war.”

“Did I?”

“Yes, back when you met Talon for the first time since being sent to Dantooine… I’m coming along with you.”

“I can’t ask that of you, Alex. Your life is here. Don’t throw it away by following my poor example… I don’t want my decision to leave the Order to harm you or anyone else…”

“I’m doing this because I want to. Do you think that I agree with the Council’s decision any more than you do? Perhaps there is a reason for it, but even so, does the Republic deserve to suffer because of it? And beyond that, you can’t do this alone Halin—Revanchist! So many other Jedi, if they knew what was happening, would also disagree with the Council’s decision. I’m making this choice not because of you, but for myself. Let me follow you! Let anyone who is willing to take up the cause of the Revanchist follow you!”

With these words, Alex knelt before her, bowing his head and beating his fist on his chest as if to make a solemn oath. “I, Alex Kharr, ask that you accept me as your honorary apprentice, Revanchist.”

The Revanchist was a bit taken aback by this gesture, but deep down, she knew that he was right. The war was so large that the more Jedi support there was for the Republic, the better their chances of defeating the Mandalorians.
“Do you swear to do all within your power to protect the innocent and to bring an end to this war?” she asked him in a firm voice.

“I swear.”

She pulled her lightsaber from her belt and ignited it, carefully passing the blade over each of the man’s shoulders before holding it aside. “Then arise, my apprentice. I accept your pledge. From henceforth, you shall be called ‘Malak’ of the Revanchists.”

Malak, as he was now known, arose and bowed fervently to his Master. There was no turning back now for either of them. What was done was done.

“What task would you have me to do, my Master,” Malak asked.

“You are right in that there may be others amongst the Order who would be sympathetic toward our cause. My task for you is to search the Enclave and recruit any of these such Jedi. When you have finished your assignment, you are to meet me on Coruscant. I am going ahead to ask the High Council one last time if they will support our cause. When their decision has been made, we shall proceed accordingly.”

“Understood, my Master.”

“And Malak?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for your support. Because of you and others like you, we shall ensure that the Republic does not fail.”

><><><><><

   The halls of the Jedi Enclave on Dantooine were completely empty at this hour. The Revanchist slipped silently through the shadows, making her way past the Council chambers to the initiate training room. There was one more thing that she needed to do before heading to Coruscant.

   This particular training room was a little different from the others within the enclave. It was designed as the place where students would undergo the final trials before becoming a full member of the Order and attaining the rank of Padawan. It contained a small portion of the archives, intended for learning about the Jedi Code and a brief history of the Jedi Order, it contained a computer for simulations and for research on different classes amongst the Jedi, and it contained a workbench, where the new initiates were to craft their first lightsaber. It was for this purpose that the Revanchist had come.

   The Revanchist pulled the amethyst Kyber crystal from her inner robe. The thing emitted a faint, yet pleasant hum as she held it in her hand. It had bonded to her, and its energy was reacting positively with her own connection to the Force. It was time. It was time for her to set the crystal and to construct a new lightsaber.

   She began by crafting the basic pieces of the lightsaber: the focusing lens, the emitter matrix, the energy cell, and the skeleton of the hilt. The first thing was the hilt, since this would encase all of the other pieces. It was the part of the lightsaber that the Jedi held in their hand, so a comfortable grip for the wielder was crucial in its design. Some Jedi would choose to create a curved hilt, or one with extra handle, or a long staff-like hilt, depending on their own individual preferences.

   The design that the Revanchist chose was relatively simple, yet elegant. It was of medium length, to account for grip with either one or both hands, and had three long, slightly curved pieces spaced evenly through the length of the body. On the end where the lens would be placed, they protruded slightly, creating a sort of claw-like encasement for the future blade. These three curved pieces would aid in maintaining her grip on the weapon in battle. The body was primarily silvery-gray in color, with accents of black along the edges. The back vent was very simple, round with no particularly interesting patterns.

The only thing particularly unusual about her design was her choice of placement for what would become the trigger when she inserted the energy cell and emitter matrix. She had opted for a faux trigger in the traditional red on the outside of the hilt. The true trigger would be located inside of the hilt. While seemingly bizarre at first, there was good reasoning for her choice. After all, the Mandalorians were skilled warriors, and, in the event she lost her weapon in battle, she did not wish for a Mandalorian to be able to wield the thing against her or against her allies. The only way that one would be able to ignite the saber would be through the Force.

She created a basic Diatium power cell with the materials available to her at the workbench, and a basic emitter matrix in order to power and stabilize the blade, and placed these inside of the hilt accordingly, being quite careful not to inverse anything, as the lightsaber could explode if improperly assembled in such a manner.

When it came time for the lens, she chose a somewhat unorthodox material. Adegan crystals were a relatively abundant crystal that was often used as a focusing crystal rather than material for a focusing lens. When used for the focusing lens instead, the crystal greatly intensified the power of and amount of damage the lightsaber could deal in combat. This new saber, while she honestly wished otherwise, would need to be capable of taking a life quickly should the necessity arise. Mandalorians were known to possess a special sort of iron ore that was incredibly durable and found only on the planet Mandalore. Such a material was capable of resisting even a lightsaber’s blade. Given the likelihood of it being used in Mandalorian armor, the Revanchist did not wish to risk her weapon yielding to the stuff.

Her new weapon was nearly complete in its construction. All that remained were the focusing crystals. The woman still had with her the three crystals which she had won on the day that she had become a Jedi Knight: the Bondar crystal, the Opila crystal, and the now colored Kyber crystal.

The first crystal she set was the Bondar. It was the least lethal of the crystals, and provided a unique sort of energy within the blade that was best suited for stun. It was a crystal typically used in the training sabers of young Padawans. To the Revanchist, however, the crystal held a greater significance. It represented her origins and her training, but also, it represented mercy, and the way of the Jedi which she had grown to believe in before their seeming betrayal to the cause. The crystal reflected the past.

The second crystal she set was the Opila crystal. Unlike the Bondar, Opila was highly lethal. It made for an intensely focused beam that cut quickly with little able to inhibit its power. In this war, she would need whatever strength she could muster in order to defeat the enemy at hand. This crystal represented the aggression of war. This crystal reflected the present.

And the last of all of these things was the amethyst crystal which continued to resonate with its faint humming. It would be the main focusing crystal of her new lightsaber, and would determine the color of the blade. The color of the blade of the saber itself often reflected the identity of its individual wielder. The color purple was one which stood entirely on its own. It was removed from the Jedi, removed from the Sith… It was a color of great conflict... Of light and of dark… Of illumination and of shadows… Of good and of evil… Of Harmony and of Chaos… Of tranquility and of passion… Of blue and of red… It was the color of the Revanchist. It was the crystal of her future.

When the focusing crystals were all set in place, the Revanchist closed the hilt with the Adegan focusing lens. Her work was finished. The time had come for her to appear again before the High Council of the Jedi Order. The time of the Revanchists was now.

CHAPTER TEN: THE JEDI RAPTURE

Over the past few days, Malak had been fulfilling his new Master’s wishes by recruiting who he could toward their cause in aiding the Republic against the onslaught of the Mandalorians. While many did not wish to defy the decisions of the High Council, there were members on both sides of the situation who had surprised Malak on the matter.

Opela Moraf, whom he had not expected to join them due to her relationship with the Council, was one of those who proclaimed herself willing to join their cause. She was, after all, a former pupil of Master Vandar Tokare and of Master Vima Sunrider—daughter of the famed Nomi Sunrider, who had sat as Grand Master of the High Jedi Council and was one of the last known practitioners of the Jedi Battle Meditation. Moraf was also a close friend of Master Atris, Mistress of the Jedi Archives, who sat on the Council, and had apprenticed informally for a brief time under Master Kavar, who also sat on the Council.

There were others, however, who he had expected to take up the cause, but had declined for one reason or another. To his dismay, there were very few who were both sympathetic and also brave enough to take action. Malak was surprised and somewhat disturbed at the faith some of the younger Padawans whom he had approached had in the Council’s decision on the matter.

In total, Malak had succeeded in recruiting five Jedi to their cause. Besides Opela, there were, Cariaga Sin, Talvon Esan, Xaset Terep, and Nisotsa.

They were all human, but from varying backgrounds and experience, some Knights and some still Padawans. The thing that they shared in common, however, was the need to make a difference in the Galaxy, which drew them toward the call to war.

While the assembled Jedi forming what was the ‘Revanchists’ were not very many in number, there was no doubt in Malak’s mind that they would be able to recruit more to their noble cause on Coruscant and on other planets where the Jedi assembled, such as the metropolis Taris, which was so very close in proximity to the front lines of the war. Beyond even these places, there were many Jedi who had taken up hermitage scattered across the galaxy. Perhaps they were not the first to feel this calling.

The Revanchist had already gone ahead to Coruscant to address the Council one last time before the official entry of the Revanchists into the war. She seemed to genuinely hope that the Council would change their minds about the situation. As determined as she had seemed about the action that must be taken, Malak still sensed that there was a part of his Master that did not wish to have to risk being cast out of the Jedi Order.

Malak gathered the Revanchists aboard the Stalwart Nightingale. They would be headed to Coruscant next, in order to meet with their leader and to discover the results of her meeting with the High Council, every one of them knowing full well the risks involved in becoming a part of this crusade.

><><><><><

   The Revanchist entered the Circular chamber in which the Jedi High Council met at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, the sapphire and ebony colors of her robes contrasting sharply with the polished white marble and chrome surroundings. The hilt of her newly crafted saber was grasped firmly in her right hand. She moved with a purpose and with a brisk confidence that hadn’t manifested itself so strongly in her before. She was there with a mission in mind. Either she would succeed in convincing the Council of the cause of the Revanchists, or she would openly defy their judgement and declare her own faction of the Jedi.

   “I come before you again,” she said boldly, not waiting to be acknowledged by the Council members, “in order to ask you to reconsider your decision on the inaction of the Jedi during this war.”

   Many of the Council members were stunned at the rashness of her words. They had assumed that the fiery and rebellious nature of the youth had calmed during the self-imposed extension of her training. Only weeks before, she had stood before them as the very model of the Jedi. Yet now, she dared to question their wisdom?

   “As the Council has previously stated,” spoke Master Lonna Vash, “the topic will be discussed no further.”

   “We do understand your concern in wanting to aid the Republic,” Master Kavar continued. “However, after having witnessed the early stages of the war first hand, I do not sense there is anything that requires our immediate involvement in the matter. There appears to be no involvement from the Sith…”

   “Is that all that the lot of you care about—the Sith!?” The Revanchist said, the irritation quite evident in the tone of her voice. “Here you sit all safe and mighty in your Temple while the people outside are suffering and dying because of a very real threat that you refuse to acknowledge!”

   “Halin Chan, that is quite enough,” spoke Master Dorak, hoping the calm the young Jedi knight.

   “I am not Halin! You—all of you—have killed Halin Chan! The woman standing before you today is not Halin, but the Revanchist!” And with this, she raised her lightsaber over her head and ignited the trigger. The saber’s intense purple blade illuminated the room, reflecting off of the many polished surfaces.

Many of the Council Members could not help an audible gasp from escaping at the sight of the woman’s new lightsaber. The colors had become so traditional amongst the Order that any variances were highly unusual, but this variance in particular… The fact that the crystal had bonded in this color could prove to be problematic. Purple and violet colors often indicated that the Force-sensitive with which the crystal had bonded held strong qualities of both the Jedi and the Sith, and, more often than not, called upon both the Light and Dark Sides of the Force.

“In the presence of the entire Council, I hereby declare that The Revanchist and all who follow the Revanchist will enter war alongside the Galactic Republic, effective immediately! When more members of the Order learn of your selfish deeds, they will flock to our cause, and there will be nothing within your power that you will be able to do in order to stop them from doing what they know is the right thing!”

The Members of the High Council stood in a ready position, as if to strike the Revanchist should she turn violent and any moment. There mere connotation of such crushed the young woman inside. It seemed to her that they already felt she was gone from the Light. She swallowed, concentrating very hard on not betraying her further emotions of betrayal at this. “I do not wish to fight any of you,” she continued, more calmly this time, “but I will if I must. All I ask is that, in your course of inaction you do not attempt to dissuade or prevent us from our cause.”

With no further words, The Revanchist turned and promptly existed the Grand Council Chamber. The deed was officially finished. There was no taking back of her words possible at this point. She anticipated that the Council would not welcome her back by the end of this war, unless by some sort of unforeseen miracle.

‘Malak should be arriving soon in the Nightingale,’ she thought. It would be time for her to meet her future comrades in battle. It was time for her to see the Revanchists with her own eyes.

><><><><><

   The Revanchist was already at the platform to meet her apprentice when the Stalwart Nightingale landed. She was, however, not alone. Several Jedi Knights and Padawans at the temple had heard of the noble quest of the Revanchist, and some had decided to follow her into battle. Among them were a young Knight by the name of Ferroh, a woman named Fiolli Baill, and Hazar Kasra, who was the Padwan of Master Zez-Kai Ell, one of the Masters who sat on the High Council. It must have been a blow to the selfish pride of them to see more flocking to the cause that they had dismissed so.

Ferroh was of a species known as the Cathar, a cat-like warrior race from a planet of the same name in the Outer Rim. His planet had been one of the first to be ravaged by the Mandalorians at the beginning of their crusade. Since the planet was outside of Republic space, not much was known of the incident, other than what he had heard from members who were displaced by the event.

The other two who had chosen to follow the Revanchist from Coruscant were merely Padawans, but their resolve had convinced her that they would be capable of aiding the cause.

   The freighter landed, its hatch door opening and letting out the docking ramp. From the Nightingale, Malak emerged, followed by the five others who had joined. The Revanchist was somewhat surprised to see Opela Moraf among their ranks. Given Moraf’s ties to the High Council, it was unlikely that they would take their cause so lightly for long. This would be good for the Revanchists.

   Malak looked at his Master expectantly, waiting for a report as to how the meeting with the High Council had gone. The fact that there were others with her had given him hope for good news. However, the Revanchist simply shook her head. “The High Council will not approve of our Crusade, but I believe that I’ve convinced them to at least not interfere with our cause,” she told her apprentice. “These three have decided to join among our ranks and defend the Republic against the Mandalorian threat. Let us all gather aboard the Stalwart Nightingale and I will explain to all of you our plans.”

   The small group of Jedi boarded the freighter, all looking to the Revanchist for further clarification of their mission. In the ships brig, she addressed them. “I am the Revanchist, and this,” she said, indicating her companion, “is my apprentice, Malak. We have lived and trained among the Order, as all of you have, but we have also seen the truth! The High Council of the Jedi Order has made the decision to ignore the cries of the Republic and its people. Now, the Mandalorians have engaged the Republic in full-on war and we have decided that we will not sit by idly while billions die at their hands! The Revanchists will not stand for such injustice—we will fight! If you are here among us, it is because you too have heard the calling to stand up for what is right. However, I must warn all of you that what we are doing is without the support of the Council. I cannot guarantee any of you that you will be welcomed back to the Order after the war. Nor can I guarantee you that you or any of us will come back alive by the end of this. Know that you will be forever changed. If there is any doubt in your mind about being here, then I ask you to leave now, before it is too late.”

   She paused, looking out among them for any who were not bold enough to continue on their journey. To her happiness, none of those there among them made a move to leave. This was good. She did not need the timid among their ranks. The Revanchists must be bold and fearless if they were to go face-to-face against the Mandalorians.

   “I welcome each of you into the Revanchists. Together, we will bring an end to this war and restore peace to the Galaxy,” with these words, she ignited her lightsaber and held it out before her as a sign of solidarity, waiting for the others to do the same. Malak was the next of them to make such a gesture, holding his blue blade against the violet one of the Revanchist. More and more followed, the greens, yellows, blues, and silver illuminating the space around them. For a moment, this reminded the Revanchist of the Kyber crystal in her own saber before it had taken its color. Together, they created a force of countless possibilities. Just as her actions and choices had molded the crystal, the actions of the Revanchists would shape the future of this war.

   “For the Republic!” the Revanchist declared, inviting the others to join her. And from the lips of all present, the words poured out in chorus:

   “For the Republic!”

><><><><><

   The Stalwart Nightingale travelled through hyperspace along the route that the nava-computer had pre-determined. It was decided that the Revanchists would begin their involvement in the war through a series of scouting missions, designed to assess the current threat posed and determine where they would need to concentrate their efforts. There were many planets that had already been ravaged by the Mandalorian Crusaders. They would need to divide their forces and visit several of these areas, as well as places where it was likely for the Mandalorians to strike next.

   Malak would lead the first group of them (those who specialized more in combat—mostly Jedi Guardians) to scout near the front lines of the battle in the Galactic Eastern front, in places that were recently attacked by the Mandalorians and where the Republic was likely to have military forces stationed. The Revanchist would lead the other half of them (those who specialized more in covert and reconnaissance) to investigate territories further out along the Rim which had less involvement with the Republic, along the Galactic Southern front. While in the Southern front, she would also be able to see Talon and to assess the war’s effects on Deralia. Being a member of the Royal military on the planet, Talon would also be able to give her more information on the Mandalorians themselves and on their style of combat.

   Since there was only one ship available to them for the time being, the initial plan was to drop off those closer to the front lines with the Stalwart Nightingale, where it would be likely they could rendezvous with the Republic’s forces. The rest would move to the further reaches aboard the Nightingale. They would keep in contact via holo-communicator in order to relay any important information between the two groups. The plan was to regroup in one month’s time and plan further course of action based upon the combined findings of the two.

   The Revanchist did not wholly know what they would find in their scouting missions. They needed to be prepared for anything. After all, there was likely to still be Mandalorian presence on many of these planets. It was important that they not reveal their identity as Jedi or their purpose for their presence to the wrong people. The scouting must remain covert if it was to be successful.

   Currently, the Republic forces were engaged in combat with the Mandalorians in the Suurja System, which was located along the Jebble-Vanquo-Tarnith line that Captain Saul Karath of the Republic Navy had put up as a defense between Taris and the recently captured Flashpoint Research Station. The conflict had resulted in many battles up to that point, yet there was still no decisive edge that seemed to be gained on either side. The Revanchists hoped that, with the aid of the Jedi, they would be able to change this, turning the tides of war in the Republic’s favor.

   Before the scouting missions, the Revanchist had decided to stop on Taris, in order to address the Jedi at the Jedi Tower. Malak had spent time on Taris previously, and she hoped that his influence there might aid in convincing the Jedi in charge of the Tower to support their crusade. They needed as much help as they could manage to pull together. And so the Stalwart Nightingale moved onward toward Taris and toward the center of the conflict.

CHAPTER ELEVEN: THE REPUBLIC AT WAR

[[Author's note: this chapter partially quotes Issue #0 of the "Knights of the Old Republic" comic series by Dark horse, though minimally and in different context. Disclaimer, I do not own this comic series]]

   Ships… Hundreds, even thousands of Mandalorian ships…. The gleaming and menacing blockade dropped out of hyperspace over the bluey glow of a planet below. For a moment, all was deathly still. It seemed as though everything were suspended in time, each second lasting for an eternity.

   Suddenly, the ships seemed to open up, thousands of Basilisk raining down upon the helpless planet below. There was no Republic fleet, no planetary defenses… nothing to stop them. Onward they came in a seemingly never-ending wave of destruction and terror.

   Suddenly, there was a sound, as if the entire planet, and the entire Galaxy were screaming all at once in a great pain. The sound grew and grew until it became deafening, the waves of Basilisk continuing to rain down from the sky. And then, seamlessly through the noise, slipped a voice:

There is no Peace…
There is no Knowledge…
There is no serenity…
There is only Death!

><><><><><

   The Revanchist shot upward in her bunk, breathing hard as a cold sweat poured over her temples. Every muscle in her body was simultaneously frozen stiff, yet shivering in fear. Her eyes were wide open with terror. It was a vision!

   While visions of the future were not unheard of for Jedi, it was seldom they came without great focus and deep meditation. There were seers among the Jedi Order who were quite gifted in receiving and interpreting these visions… but the Revanchist was no seer. Never before had she experienced something so vivid.

   She wasn’t sure what she should make of it. It had all felt so helpless. And that voice… It was a voice she did not know, yet a voice that seemed it had always been there, lurking in the shadows, just waiting to be heard….

   Clearly, the vision was some sort of warning. The Mandalorian threat must have been far greater than what anyone could have initially interpreted. When she was finally able to move, she pulled her robes over her body and began to make her way to the deck. She was glad that no one had been there to see her in that state. What the Jedi who had followed them needed was a fearless leader who would be able to see them through their efforts in this war. They did not need to see her so vulnerable…

   When on the deck, she located Malak and pulled him aside from the others. She needed to at least tell her apprentice of the vision, but without unnecessarily alarming the others aboard. She described to him the ships, the screams… but chose to omit the voice. She was least certain what to make of the voice…

   “The Mandalorians have more than enough force already to overrun the Republic,” she continued telling him. “When we do divide… Malak, promise me that you will do all you can to protect the company. I have a very bad feeling about all of this…”

   “You know that you can count on me, Master,” the man said. “When we stop on Taris, we’ll be able to gather more help. There is strength in numbers…”

   The Revanchist couldn’t help a bit of ironic laughter at her apprentice’s statement. “That, Malak, is precisely what I fear most…”

><><><><><

   Taris was a planet that had entered into the Republic relatively recently. With its importance in trade and in economic status… these things had likely been a determining factor in the choice by the Republic senate. While it was certainly not one of the major locations of the Jedi Order, they did have a presence here at the Jedi Tower. It was here that the Revanchist hoped they might be able to recruit more Jedi into the Revanchists movement.

   The Revanchist had felt it best if she spoke to the Masters of the Tower in private, rather than bringing along the whole group of Revanchists. After all, their actions were directly against the Council’s wishes, and it was still unknown what the reaction here would be. While somewhat removed from Coruscant and from Dantooine, the Jedi on Taris were still members of the Order and might try to halt the Revanchists’ activities, or convince them against their decision.

   “Please, we ask that you kindly observe our practices and stow your lightsaber before entering the temple floor,” one of the Masters spoke as the Revanchist entered the room. Reverently, she bowed in compliance, storing her saber in the indicated stand before continuing. She did not need to provoke any unnecessary hostilities if she hoped to gain any aid from them.

   “We have heard of your recent meeting with the High Council on Coruscant,” the Masters continued. “Curious that you would come to see us after such a brash display…”

   “My intention was never to defy the Council’s wishes,” spoke the Revanchist, “only to convince them to reconsider their choices in light of recent events…”

   “And yet, that is precisely what you did. Tell us, why have you now come to Taris after so openly defying the Council on Coruscant?”

   “I am certain that all of you are aware of the current locations in the war’s front lines and their proximity to Taris. There is no doubt that the Mandalorians will soon try to make a move on the planet itself unless they can be stopped first. It is the duty of the Jedi Order to protect the innocent, and this is no more strongly felt anywhere right now than it is on Taris. What I ask of you, Masters, is your aid in our cause. Any Jedi who are willing and can be spared would be most helpful in the progression of our mission.”

   With these words, all five of the Jedi Masters of the Temple began to laugh simultaneously. The Revanchist looked around the room in disbelief. She couldn’t believe that they of all people would not be willing to take the threat seriously.

   “Did I stutter?” she asked. “Is what I have spoken of seemingly funny to you?”

   “Forgive us,” one Master finally managed, “but there are so few of us here on Taris that to think we could spare even one is simply foolishness. We are, after all, the only Masters here, and all others are only Padawans and Younglings—there are no Knights. Even if what you were doing was with the Council’s support, you would find no help here on Taris.”

   “I see,” the Revanchist said with a tinge of bitterness. “I apologize then for wasting your time.” And with this, she bowed, retrieving her lightsaber from the holding and left the Temple.

><><><><><

   Malak roamed the streets of the Taris Upper City, near the Jedi Tower. Taris was a bit of a strange place. It was so advanced in its urbanism, yet so primitive in its idealism. Alien species outside of humans were generally frowned upon by the majority of the older natives. There was a sort of corrupt ideal that Taris—particularly the Upper City—should be for humans only. The extremists seemed to have calmed some since the beginning of the Jedi presence on Taris, but they still existed. They were only muffled for the time being.

   Seemingly out of nowhere, there was a crash in a nearby alleyway. Curious as to what had caused such a commotion, Malak went to investigate. In the alley, he found a human male—no more than a teenage boy, really—who had landed in a trash heap near a compactor entrance.

   “You really ought to be more careful where you step,” Malak said, going over and helping the boy to his feet. It was then that he noticed the lightsaber hilt which hung at the boy’s side. “You’re one of the Padawans from the Temple here, aren’t you?”

   The boy nodded, rubbing his backside. “You got me,” he admitted. “Zayne Carrick is the name.”

   “And what is it exactly that you’re doing out here, Zayne Carrick? It seems rather strange for Padawans to be falling from the sky into random alleyways and backend streets…”

   “Well,” Zayne began, “I was on an assignment from Master Lucien to capture a Snivvian by the name of Marn Heirogryph, but so far it’s not looking good. Not that the Masters expected me to succeed to begin with. Master Lucian says I’m a reminder that the Force has a sense of humor…”

   Malak could see that the kid seemed upset. From what he could tell, Zayne Carrick was known among his peers for such blunders as his current situation. “Don’t be so down about it,” Malak told him.
   “What are you doing here anyway?” Zayne asked him. “I didn’t realize that there were any Jedi scheduled here on Taris, other than those being trained at the Tower…”

   “My Master and I are just passing through,” Malak explained. “We’re headed to the front lines of the war against the Mandalorians… My Master hoped to stop on Taris to try to recruit any able-bodied Jedi to our cause. After all, we’re going to need all of the help we can get…”

   “Against the Mandalorians?” Zayne repeated, seemingly puzzled. “My Master says that the Mandalorians are no business of the Jedi…”

   “So does the Council, unfortunately.”

   “They always said that it was the duty of the Jedi to defend the Republic against the Sith…”

   “Except that the Sith threat ended about thirty years ago.,” Malak protested.” Right now, there are no Sith… but the Mandalorians… The Mandalorians pose a very real threat right now. It seems they could be raiding the Temple itself and the Masters wouldn’t bat an eyelash unless someone mentions the dark side…”

   It was at this point that Malak got a notification on his commlink. “Malak, this is Ferroh. The Revanchist has returned from her meeting with the Masters. We’re readying for takeoff—they will not help us.”

   “A shame, but we should have expected as much… I’ll make my way back now. Over and Out.” Malak turned his attention to Zayne. “Sorry kid, but it looks like it’s time for me to get going… I wish you could have been able to meet my Master… Listen…. If you ever decide that you want to join us, the Revanchists will always be open to you.”

   “Thanks,” Zayne said, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

   “May the Force be with you,” and with this, Malak left to regroup with the rest of the Revanchists.

><><><><><

   It was the fourth time that the Mandalorians and the Republic fleet had engaged in combat above the skies of the planet Suurja. The planet was in between the recently captured Flashpoint Station, and the recently formed Jebble-Vanquo-Tarnith line. The Mandalorians were attempting to advance forward, toward Taris and deeper into Republic Space. Combat had been going on for several weeks now, and still there was no clear victor, but Captain Saul Karath was determined not to allow the Mandalorians to advance any further. They could not be allowed to break through the barrier.

   There were Sixteen-Million Republic Colonists on the Planet’s Surface, and so Captain Karath had made an effort to keep as much of the fighting as possible away from the settlements on the planet’s surface. While fighting did occur planet-side, it was kept mainly in unpopulated areas.

   Still, as the battle continued to rage on, neither side seemed to gain any edge. It seemed as though the fighting would go on indefinitely were it to continue in such a way. Already the fourth formal battle was taking place. If this were any indication of how the rest of the war would be, then both sides were in for quite a ride.

   After so long fighting, both sides were ready to declare that enough was enough. After all, Suurja was primarily an agrarian planet. It was hardly going to make or break the war, whichever side wound up winning in the end…

   In the end, nothing was left but a wake of destruction on the behalf of both sides. No one was “safe” or “triumphant” … but all was finished. All was dead and still in the aftermath of war.

><><><><><

   It was planetary Sunset when the Stalwart Nightingale landed on Suurja. The Revanchists had decided to land away from any settlements both for the purpose of not disturbing the locals and for the purpose of trying to get a clearer firsthand view of what had occurred during the recent battles there.

   There was an eerie stillness about the planet’s surface. It was almost unnaturally calm in wake of the recent events which had taken place there. The group of combat specialists, led by Malak, stepped forth from the Stalwart Nightingale onto the planet’s surface. The Revanchist was with them.

   “I am hesitant to leave you,” the Revanchist admitted to her apprentice. “I fear that something terrible will happen here. The Force is uneasy in this place. There is much still at unrest…”

   “I promise I will let you know if we encounter any problems,” Malak assured her. “You just focus on the plan for the rest of the outer rim, dividing our scouts and gathering information from the previously war-torn planets.”

   The Revanchist nodded. She knew that her apprentice was right. There was so much ground for them to cover that it would be impossible for them not to split up…

><><><><><

The lush plant of Onderon remained mostly untamed and full of jungle, with the exception of its capitol, the city of Iziz. Since the union of a beast-lord to Queen Oron Kira, much of the civil unrest on the planet had ceased to exist, and the two groups were now able to live in relative harmony with one another.

All was so peacefull. All was so still. It was nighttime, and the planet’s moon, Dxun, was full overhead. Night insects chirped and the beasts all slept in their burrows…. But a voice came though all of it, so subtly that it was as if no one else could hear it…

Only Passion…
Only Chaos…
Only Victory…
Only Death….

A sort of shadow began to descend from the sky, from the moon itself. Instead of light, Dxun was only reflecting darkness…

><><><><><

   “Master?..... Master!?”

   The sound was faint at first, as if heard from underwater while the source was above the surface. Gradually, it grew stronger and stronger, until finally….

   The Revanchists eyes fluttered open and she gasped for breath, as if she had been deprived of oxygen for some time. She had fainted into the arms of her apprentice, so it had seemed. The Revanchists around her regarded her with concern. Their ‘fearless leader’ had collapsed out of seemingly nowhere.

   One she realized the situation, the Revanchist quickly pulled herself together and stood on her own, as if nothing had happened. She could not cause them worry. Not now… That was not the leadership that they needed.

   “A vision,” she murmured. And then she looked her apprentice in the eye. “You remain here with the group as planned. I will take the others to their designated stations… but I need to go to Onderon….”

   “Onderon?” Malak repeated with some confusion. “But they’ve not been touched by the war… Not yet, at least. I thought you were going to check the situation of things on Deralia…”

   The Revanchist simply shook her head. “Talon will have to wait… I feel that this is important… More important than any of us might realize at the moment... I must go to Onderon. There is something there… I can feel it….”

   Malak worried about his Master’s words. There was something different about her since that night that they had met in the grove. She had seemed increasingly paranoid at every turn. He thought that the idea of this war must have been getting to her. The pressure of leading so many young Jedi into battle… and without the aid of the Council… it must have been quite taxing to her senses and to her emotions, even as one trained in the ways of the Force.

   “Are you certain that you will be all right on your own?” he asked her.

   “I’m fine, she said, trying to assure all of them. “I was merely unprepared for the vision to come when it did. I know to be more alert now…” and then she whispered to Malak alone “I feel that there are greater Forces at work here than the Mandalorians alone…”

   She looked at him with a very serious expression, so much that Malak would not have thought of questioning her opinion on the matter. Whatever was to be found at Onderon would prove to be important for this war. The Revanchist and her apprentice nodded solemnly to one another and the Revanchist re-boarded the Stalwart Nightingale. It was time to determine if what she had seen of Onderon and of its moon, Dxun, was true or not…

DISCLAIMER: This chapter contains depictions of torture and mild sexual content. Reader discretion is advised. This chapter also contains direct quotes from the Knights of the Old Republic comic series by Dark Horse. I do not own these comics.

CHAPTER TWELVE: THE SECRETS OF FLASHPOINT STATION Part I/V (chapter is too long for one post)

   The vision of Onderon and of its moon, Dxun, had shaken the Revanchist’s original plans. She trusted her apprentice to be able to handle things for the front-line company. Although the ending had been inconclusive, the fighting had finally stopped on Suurja. It was here that the Revanchist had left the majority of the Jedi Crusaders so that an investigation on how the most recent events of the war could be made from a close-up standpoint. After all, what was seen through the Republic news channels had likely been filtered for the general public. The Revanchists needed to know the situation first-hand if they were to act and to be able to convince the Jedi Order to also act.

   What to do with the company that she had initially been supposed to lead was where the complication arose. She knew that she would have to investigate Onderon and Dxun alone. She couldn’t just abandon the rest of them though without a plan, despite the fact that only two others of the Revanchists were in the company. Her company was not made of warriors. Fiolli was skilled as a healer and had training as a pilot and Opela was… well… Opela. She had a great connection to the Force and would be useful for assessing the effects the Mandalorians had had on a system’s native species as a result. She considered that perhaps her best option would be to send them to Deralia in her stead to meet with Talon. Surely he would be able to arrange a ship for them to be able to continue from there in the reconnaissance of war-battered worlds. She would be able to regroup with them at a later time, granted that everything checked out on Onderon.

   “Opela?” she called to her friend from the academy. “I have a favor to ask of you…”

   Opela looked to her friend and leader with some confusion. She’d not expected to be asked any favors during their quest. “Yes? What is it?”

   “I’m going to have to leave you and Fiolli…. Just for a time, until I can figure out what this vision means on Onderon… But this is something that I must do alone. I want to leave you in charge of this portion of the company while I am away… During this war, there may be times where the Revanchists may be split into smaller groups. Jedi leadership will be crucial, particularly once we are able to appeal to the Republic Military directly in order to officially join them in battle. When that time comes, we are likely to be divided among different companies of troops, and I would like to know that I will be able to depend upon you to do so when such an event comes.”

   “I am honored, but… don’t you think it would be best to place combat specialists in charge of such?”

   “I’ve seen your approach to battle tactics, Opela Moraf. Don’t think that I’ve forgotten about our game of Dejarik…”

   Opela shook her head. “That was a fluke. I simply got lucky with good pieces….”

   “I was humiliated, Opela. You beat me, rightfully so, and not by accident, or by any close call. Your foresight was to be admired. You need not be modest about it. War is not a game comprised of pieces on a board. This is a different sort of game that we are playing… but I want to ensure that the best players are the ones left in charge of determining the placement of our troops when the time comes.”

   “This is too great a responsibility….”

   “No. No, it’s not. Opela Moraf, there is no one I can think of more suited for the task. Please… Please accept this responsibility. I will not be gone to Onderon for long. My brother is assistant to the head of military operations on Deralia. He can ensure a vessel and safety on-planet while you investigate. From there, I would like you to continue without me along the planned course. Contact me should there be any complications. I will regroup with you as soon as I am able after Onderon… Do you have any questions?”

   “Not about the mission, but I have one other…”

   “You may ask.”

   “Why the Revanchist?

   Where to start…

   There was so much to explain. It was a fair question. After all, if their group was named ‘the Revanchists.’ It was only fair to know the meaning…

   “Well…” she began, “I attempted to explain to Alex—Malak—when I took the name…. However, perhaps I did a poor job of doing so. It’s from Old Deralian…we have a word Revanchisme… I had initially explained it as ‘evil deeds for the sake of justice to the innocent’… but it’s a little more complicated than that. It could be considered, in a way, as an act of revenge… hence my previous explanation. But it is not really an ‘evil’ revenge… It’s reclaiming what was lost by war… usually territories. It’s really more an idea of patriotism and often seen as a noble cause… I’m afraid I’m not very good at explaining these things.”

   “No, I understand… You chose the words you did because we are taught revenge is a path to the dark side…. But what you are describing… it seems more like seeking justice rather than true revenge.” Opela tried to smile at the other woman. Halin had always been so confident. But the Revanchist… The Revanchist seemed different from Halin. Sure, she retained the same bold confidence in the justification of her decisions, but she seemed to have gained a twisted sort of wisdom that bred paranoia. Even in the short period since they had left, the Revanchist had received more than one ‘vision’ of seemingly impending doom. A sort of darkness was hovering about, and it seemed that the Revanchist was all too painfully aware of this.

><><><><><

Ambushed!

   It had all happened so very suddenly that the Revanchists hadn’t had any time to react. They were on Suurja when it had happened. Their leader had left with the Stalwart Nightingale and the group had just begun their investigations on the recent battles that had taken place. Including Malak, there were seven Revanchists total captured. Even though they were all Guardians by training, they were no match for small company of Mandalorian Neo-Crusaders who had been waiting there on the surface.

   Word of the Revanchist’s movement against the Council’s orders had begun to spread. Not only the Republic was aware of the ‘rogue’ faction of the Jedi, but the Mandalorians too had heard. One particularly twisted mind among the Mandalorians—a scientist by the name of ‘Doctor’ Demagol—had taken particular interest in this news.

   It was to Demagol’s research laboratory, which the Mandalorians had set up on Flashpoint Station after its capture, that the Revanchists were taken to. They were stripped of their lightsabers, prodded like cattle, tortured into submission, held in a sort of make-shift prison room that the Mandalorians morbidly referred to as ‘Doctor Demagol’s waiting room.’ One wrong move and the guards would come with their shock staves. Demagol was in need of research subjects. Live Jedi research subjects.

   Malak was strapped and chained down to a cold metal lab table in a macabre-looking lab room. The walls were hung with seemingly recent skeletal remains of a number of sentient species. Many shelves of equipment for surgeries, dissections, amputations, and the like stood tall, interspersed with beakers and test tubes of various unknown chemical compounds. Overall, it was something between a laboratory and a torture chamber.

However, the most menacing thing there was not any of this, but the Doctor himself. His yellow-accented steel-gray armor was splattered and stained with the blood of a recent victim. His is helmet was outfitted with some sort of a magnifying scope for study. In his hand, he held a long syringe filled with some sort of bright green substance. Yet the face of Doctor Demagol remained hidden beneath his Mandalorian mask, the visor reflecting back each helpless victim their own tortured self rather than allowing for the slightest glimpse into the devil’s eyes.

   Malak struggled in vain to free himself from the bondage. It seemed that the demented scientist took pleasure in these efforts though, for he broke out into a small burst of sinister laughter.

   “My, my… it would seem anesthesia is wearing off,” Demagol said. “You will be happy to know, Jedi, that the Doctor will be seeing you now. Please, excuse my appearance. One of the other patients caused a bit of a mess during the vivisection…”

   The doctor approached. Malak inhaled deeply. Perhaps, if he were able to concentrate…

   “You will free me and my companions and allow us on our way,” Malak spoke, reaching out with the Force and focusing on finding the mind within the suit of armor.

   “I will free you and your companions and allow you on your way?” The doctor laughed again. “Your Jedi mind tricks won’t work on me…”

   Malak was having difficulty remaining calm. The Mandalorian before him was difficult to read. It was almost as if his ability to sense the man’s intentions through the Force had been completely blinded. What was this monster?...

   The Jedi did the next thing he could think of and tried to use the Force to call to him a lightsaber which he had spotted hanging among the remains that decorated the walls. The saber began to shake as he concentrated. However, before he could get it to him, the mad doctor injected him with the syringe. All began to spin. All became a blur. All went dark….

><><><><><

CHAPTER TWELVE: THE SECRETS OF FLASHPOINT STATION Part II/V (chapter is too long for one post)

><><><><><

   The Revanchist had left Opela and Fiolli on Deralia under Talon’s watch and had continued to the location foreseen in her vision. Onderon was a very green planet, full of a wide variety of wildlife. There was only one large city on its surface, and that was Iziz. While it was not a part of the Republic. Onderon was important in trade and commerce, much like Taris had been even before joining the Republic and gaining a seat in the senate.

   Over a hundred years before, the Dark Lord of the Sith, Freedon Nadd, had subjugated the planet and ruled from Iziz as its king for more than one hundred years. He was buried there, below the palace, and for this reason, the dark side had a very powerful presence on Onderon and its moon, Dxun. The current planetary royals were his direct descendants, though the bloodline was mixed now and the family name far less sinister after a marriage alliance with the beastriders, who had been previously cast out of the city of Iziz for their refusal of allegiance to the Sith.

   The Revanchist stepped from the Stalwart Nightingale onto the landing dock at the Iziz spaceport. The city was an ancient one, founded by the Sith Lord Freedon Nadd during his reign. A residual Dark Side energy radiated from the planet itself and from the moon Dxun, surely left over from the time of the Dark Lord. It sent shivers down the Revanchist’s spine, making the jungle seem unusually cold.

   The moon was so close to the planet that it could be seen clearly in the sky, even midday. There was a strong and proud military presence on Onderon. Customs officers stood at attention throughout the landing pads of the spaceport. Many of them eyed the Revanchist with suspicion. She supposed she should have expected so much, considering the planet’s past experience with Force wielders…

   “Halt!” one officer said, stopping her at a checkpoint. “What business does a Jedi have on Onderon?”

   “My business here is personal and is not sanctioned by the Jedi Order…”

   “You’re going to have to be a little more specific than that. Everyone has heard of the rogue Jedi defying the Council and entering the war. We’ve already dealt with the Mandalorians once, and we will not tolerate your kind bringing the war back to Onderon… Or perhaps you're here because of the Dark Jedi that used to reside here. Are you looking for artifacts of our royals?”

   The Revanchist blinked in a moment of brief confusion. ‘So the Mandalorians have been here already…’

   “No, no… I assure you that this is merely a pleasure visit. I’ve come to see the wildlife… Tell me though, was this attack recent?”

   “Recent enough. We dealt with the Mandalorians during the Great Sith War, and we would rather not be involved in the current…”

   The Revanchist shook her head. “No, I cannot imagine that you would… I assure you though, my intentions are not to bring the war here in any way. It is the duty of the Jedi to promote peace… to end wars….”

   “Sure,” the officer said, seemingly unconvinced. “All right Jedi, I suppose you check out enough. Try any funny business though, and General Vaklu will be all over you.”

   The Revanchist bowed fervently. “Thank you. I assure you, I will cause no trouble for Onderon…”

   While the Mandalorian presence on the planet had not been recent according to the officer’s reports, the information did not serve to put her at ease. She was certain that something was here. If not on Onderon itself, then perhaps on the moon Dxun. The moon had been held by Mandalorians in the past. It was quite possible that some remnant would be there which could give her more information about the Mandalorians’ current plans.

   Iziz was a grand city. Its ancient walls stood tall and proud, with a sort of old air turret seen every now and then, historically for repelling Drexyl-Mounted beast riders. The white stone buildings of the city matched the tall white marble palace where the Onderonian royals lived.

   As beautiful as Iziz was, the Revanchist had a feeling that what she sought would not be located within its walls. After all, in her vision, it was the moon, Dxun, which had cast a shadow of darkness over the planet. Whatever dark presence it was that the vision had warned her about, it was surely on Dxun…

   Having just come through customs, it would be suspicious if she were to leave in her own ship, headed for the moon. She would need to board a shuttle headed for the place… Perhaps she could find a private pilot to take her there. After all, she didn’t want to attract any unnecessary attention which might interfere with her investigations. For now, at least, the movements of the Revanchists were to remain as covert as possible.

   It was a few blocks of roaming through Iziz before the Revanchist came across one of the local cantinas. She figured it would be a good place to lay low for the moment, to gather information, and to possibly find a pilot who could take her to Dxun. She removed the hood of her cloak as she entered and let down her hair. She had found that, in places like this, the best way for a Jedi to blend in was to appear as casual as possible. As far as anyone was concerned, she was there to relax, have a drink, and maybe watch the swoop races, just like any other patron. For now, she was ‘Halin’ again.

   The Revanchist took a seat at the bar, accepting the menu from a waiting droid when it came and glancing over what the place’s specialties were. All of the space travel hadn’t allowed much time for a proper meal recently, so it would be a nice shift to try some of the local cuisine. Food capsules and ship rations did the job, but they got boring after a while

   No sooner had she placed her order than a man in civilian dress came and sat beside her. She could tell from his clothing and from his features that he must have been an Onderonian local. She did her best to continue a cool and casual appearance.

   “Haven’t seen you around here before,” the man said. “The name’s Wezz Dole. And who might you be, pretty lady?”

   “Halin,” she replied. The man seemed to find her attractive. The situation could work to her advantage. She needed information, and this Wezz Dole might be able and willing to give it to her. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Wezz Dole.”

   “The pleasure is all mine,” he said, gently taking her gloved hand and pressing a kiss to it. “Tell me, what brings a lady such as yourself out to Onderon. You don’t look like you’re from around here. I’d have noticed you sooner if you were…”

   “Safari, mostly,” said the Revanchist. “I’m here on holiday and wanted to observe the wildlife… though I hear the most interesting of it is on Dxun…”

   The man scoffed. “Wildlife? Surely there are more… relaxing activities to do while on holiday than watching cannoks, if you get what I’m saying…”

   He looked her up and down with an obvious lusty hunger. It took everything in the woman not to roll her eyes and walk away. There is no emotion, there is peace… “What can I say?” she shrugged. “I like to live dangerously—it’s more fun that way. I’ve heard that the most interesting of the wildlife in on Dxun though, not Onderon…”

   “You want to go to Dxun? Too bad you’re not as smart as you are good looking. Dxun is a death wish.”

   “And what makes you say that?”

   “Place used to be a Mandalorian base during the Great Sith War. Besides that, there’s no civilizations and it’s overrun with the more dangerous wildlife, like those Boma beasts and Drexyls. The turrets you’ve no doubt seen in the city are from during the beast wars when those beast rider scum would use Drexyl to attack Iziz.”

   “I’ll take my chances,” she said simply. “Any idea where I could find a shuttle to head there?”

   “Only ones crazy enough to go to Dxun might be the beast riders. Even then your luck in finding someone to take you would be slim…”

   “I see… and where might I find these beast riders?”

   “You’re asking an awful lot of questions, little lady…”

   “What can I say? I’m a curious woman.”

   “Well that kind of info’s going to cost you a little something extra…”

   “Oh? And what might your price be?”

   “You let me buy you a drink and we’ll talk from there.”

   “Seems reasonable.”

   Wezz smirked and called the serving droid over. “A drink for my lady friend here”

   “What’ll it be, hon?” the droid asked.

   “One Wookie-Wango,” the Revanchist replied, shooting Wezz Dole a challenging glance.

   The man’s smirk turned to a grin. “You weren’t kidding when you said you like to live dangerously… Know what? Make it two.”

   “Comin’ right up,” the droid replied. And it hurried off.

   “I must say, Halin, you’re just full of surprises… So, uh…. Any men in your life?”

   “Just colleagues. I honestly can’t say I’ve been on the lookout for anything more…”

   “Really? That’s a real shame…”

   “Two Wookie-Wango’s,” the serving droid said, setting glasses on the table. “And for the lady, your special from the kitchen is ready.”

   “Thank you very much,” the woman said, inhaling the dish in front of her. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to close out my tab when you have a chance.”

   “Sure thing, hon,” the droid said. “I’ll bring your check right away.”

   “Thank you…. Now,” she said to Wezz, “about the beast riders…”

   “You’re not actually serious, are you?”

   “I’m always serious. A deal is a deal. I let you buy me a drink, now you let me know where the beast riders are so I can get to Dxun…”

   “You’re bill ma’am,” the droid said, returning with a booklet that it set on the table. The Revanchist turned away from Wezz to settle her bill. However, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed him slip something into one of the drinks.

   ‘So you want to play games, huh? All right, Wezz Dole, I’ll call your bluff…’

   She handed the bill back to the droid with the credits inside and returned her attention to the man sitting next to her. “I hate to be a bother,” she said to him, “but would you mind passing me a few napkins from the dispenser over there? This looks a bit more oily than I had anticipated.”

   “Not a bother,” he said, turning to grab the napkins, at which point the woman rolled her eyes and switched the drink’s positions with one another. ‘Child’s play…’

   “Thank you,” she said, and she took the napkins.

   “Here,” he said, handing her a glass also. “If you’re so serious about my side of the deal, I insist it be serious both ways. A toast!” and he took the other drink. “To living dangerously.”

   “To living dangerously.” And, looking him in the eye, the two touched glasses and drank. “So, the beast riders,” she continued.

   “Ah, yes. The beast riders…”

   “Oh come now! Look, I’ll even finish it for you,” and the woman downed the rest of her drink. “Now will you tell me?”

   Wezz Dole smirked. “The beast riders… Most of them you’ll find just outside of Iziz. Their kind still isn’t fully welcome here…”

   “Aren’t they? I thought that the marriage between the Queen and the Beast Prince changed all of that…”

   “We’re not in any civil war since… but that doesn’t mean that the people of Iziz have forgiven them. They were cast out to begin with for their crimes, and then they surprised us by taming the wild beasts and using them to attack our city… History doesn’t just forget itself you know…”

   “I know…”

   “But new histories,” he said, touching a hand to her knee, “new histories are being written all of the time…”

   “New histories?”

   “Like between you and I,” he said, slipping his hand slowly along her thigh. “What do you say we ditch this place and find somewhere quiet…”

   “Oh, I’d like nothing more than to get out of this cantina,” she said, resting her hand atop his.

   “I can show you all of the wildlife you could ever dream of seeing, if you catch my drift…”

   The woman guided his hand, encouraging it higher. “I’m sure you could…”

   Wezz Dole leaned in closer to her. However, as he did so, his face began to pale and become clammy. His addition to the drink must have been starting to take effect… Calmly, the Jedi guided his hand to her side, just enough for him to distinctly feel where her lightsaber hung at her belt.

   “A word of advice, Wezz Dole… Never try to drug a Jedi. You just might end up regretting it.”

   And with this, she stood, leaving him leaning against the bar for support as he began to fall under the influence.

   “Waiter?” The Revanchist called to the droid, “Can you bag this to go for me?... Oh! And this man might need some help getting home later. I don’t think he’s feeling quite well.”

   The man looked at the woman with a sickly and startled expression as she waited for the serving droid to finish boxing her meal. The Revanchist gave one last look at him and patted his hand chidingly. “Goodbye, Wezz Dole. Unfortunately, I won’t be needing your assistance in my wildlife viewings… Thank you for the drink.”

   With this, she re-bound her hair, replaced the hood of her cloak, took up the to-go box in her hand, and left the cantina.

><><><><><

CHAPTER TWELVE: THE SECRETS OF FLASHPOINT STATION Part III/V (chapter is too long for one post)

><><><><><

   With the information that she had received in the cantina, it didn’t take long for the Revanchist to locate the beast rider camp. It was quite different than Iziz. For the most part, the beast riders lived very simply, and their settlement reminded her somewhat of Dantooine. But here, the beasts lived alongside rider. The Boma, the Cannocks…. The Revanchist had heard of techniques in the Force that could be used to calm the minds of beasts, and she couldn’t help but to wonder if the beast riders were somehow attuned with the Force and used such techniques in a very primitive form.

   “Excuse me,” the Jedi said to a passing beast rider, “but I was wondering if you might be able to help me? You see, I’m looking to get to Dxun.”

   “Dxun? What does an off-worlder want in going to Dxun?”

   “Research mostly…”

   “That research doesn’t include poaching, I hope?”

   “No, no… my research involves more the moon itself rather than the beasts there… Trouble is that I’m in need of transportation, and I would prefer a… subtle landing if at all possible. I don’t want to attract any unnecessary attention…”

   The beast rider looked at her attire.

   “You’re a Jedi, aren’t you?”

   “I will not deny this…”

   “Your kind ought to be extra careful going to Dxun…”

   “And what makes you say that?”

   “There’s a rumor that the Dark Lord who used to rule here wasn’t buried under the palace at all, but in a tomb somewhere on Dxun. I hear those Sith tombs are supposed to be rife with the Dark Side of your Force.”

   If there was a Sith tomb there, that could account for the darkness descending in her vision. But the timing of all of it… the timing had caused the Revanchist to believe that there was more to it… That this was all somehow directly tied to the Mandalorians and to this war.

   “About thirty years ago or so—just before the Great Sith War—a Jedi went to Dxun and found the tomb there. They say the spirit there drove him mad, led him to the dark side… Kun, I think was his name.”

   “Exar Kun?” the Revanchist said in disbelief.

   “That sounds right. Exar Kun, his name was.”

   The Jedi reveled at the thought. Before her, on the moon Dxun, lay not only the answer to what she had seen in her vision, but possibly the information that the Council had barred her from viewing one year prior. She needed to get to Dxun.

   “I’ll take my chances,” the Revanchist said to the beast rider. “My investigation is too important to allow such a thing to become a deterrent… Please, I must get to Dxun.”

   The woman’s persistence puzzled the beast rider, but it did convince him that she was quite serious about the matter. “Whether my people help you or not is not my decision, unfortunately. I’ll take you to the leader of our clan, but I warn you now, the method of arrival if he agrees may be a bit… unorthodox.”

   The Revanchist shook her head. “The means of transportation is non-important, given that I am able to arrive and depart hastily.”

   The beast rider shrugged. “It’s your funeral. Don’t say I didn’t warn you…”

   “Take me to your clan leader. With all due respect, it would be best if I discussed the matter directly…”

><><><><><

Talon watched the two Jedi that Halin had brought to the planet, as they moved from patient to patient in the Capital Hospital. While most of those who would survive had already recovered from the Mandalorians attack, there were a few in more critical condition who remained under intensive care. The two Jedi had skill as healers, and so he had asked them to take a look at the patients in question.

The Jedi healing techniques were quite astounding. From what Talon could understand, it required intense focus and meditation, but among the most skilled of the Force Healers, it could be used to treat the most severe of injuries—even coming close to halting death… Or so the rumor went. But while the greatest of Masters could come close to halting it, no Jedi had been able to reverse it.

This thought made Talon slightly bitter. For his own family, the help had come too late. He couldn’t help but to think that if the Jedi had responded more actively to his request a year prior, then perhaps the attack could have been avoided entirely. Perhaps there would be none of the current pain on Deralia. All would be peaceful, as it had been before…
While he did appreciate the current help, he remained bitter. For now his own sister, who had promised her aid should the time come, had vanished also. While she had left the two in her stead, it would not substitute for her being there in person. It was only right, after all, for the Deralian Jedi to help the Deralian people.

But now… Now she claimed to no longer be Halin Chan, the little sister whom his mother and father had sent so many years before in order to be trained in the ways of the Jedi. Now, the Revanchist was what she called herself. He shook his head at the thought. The name had come from Deralian, yes, but somehow, his little Halin seemed even more distant than before. She should have been the one there helping her people—not these others. The Republic had many Jedi from many places and walks of life. Why should she specifically be responsible for protecting them from the threats of this war?

While he did not approve of his sister’s choice to leave her people again in their time of need, he did agree to help her. He’d prepared a small freighter for her Jedi colleagues for when they had finished their work and investigations on Deralia. While Halin had told him that she would try to visit once the war settled down, he was not hopeful. It was a bit ironic really. Jedi were renowned for their compassion and love for all life… and yet what he had seen in his sister was… different than how she had been before she left so many years ago.

Her demeanor, which had been so loving and curious and full of eagerness to please her elders, had changed to something far more detached, even somber. He had noticed it previously when they had met on Coruscant. It was almost like a sort of forced detachment. She seemed to purposely distance herself from him. It wasn’t just him though. Even now, she had refused to allow any of her Jedi companions to accompany her. It was a sort of odd and unnatural solidarity, and he wasn’t entirely convinced it was by choice, but rather by fear.

Yes, Halin seemed oddly… afraid. Paranoid, even. And the more he thought about her previous comment about wondering how life might have been had she not joined the Order, the more he wondered whether being a Jedi was healthy for her mental state. It seemed that with each time he had seen her again, she had grown progressively more unstable. What she needed was to take her mind away from the conflict, not head deeper into it. He only hoped that, even though she was doing the right thing in trying to find a way to end the war herself, she would not lose herself in the process.

><><><><><

   Malak was breathing heavily, his teeth clenched in an attempt to endure the pain as he was tossed roughly back into the waiting room by the two Mandalorian guards with their electroshock pikes. His entire body reeled with pain. He felt as though acid were pulsing through his veins. The pain, however, was the only way he knew for certain that he wasn’t dead after the trauma.

   When the guards left, the Cathar Jedi, Ferroh, came to him, helping him to sit up. “You’re alive,” Ferroh said in half-disbelief. The others and I weren’t sure what to expect when they took you… Here. Sit still. I’m no healer, but I’ll do what I can for you…”

   Cautiously, Ferroh called upon the Force in an attempt to heal some of Malak’s pain. Malak gritted his teeth. “The others… are they all right? Has anyone else gone into the laboratory?”

   “Only one other,” the Cathar replied somberly. “The Padawan Hazar Kasra was taken in… but we’ve not seen or heard anything from him since.”

   Malak reflected on the words that the Doctor had said before he had initially lost consciousness… One of the other patients caused a bit of a mess during the vivisection… He grimaced at the thought. It seemed that the young Padawan had not been so lucky as he had been during his operation… Solemnly, Malak bowed his head in reverence. “She warned all of us that many may not come back… but I never thought that it would be so soon before one of us was lost…”

   The others grew pale at Malak’s words. They all understood… Hazar Kasra was dead.

   “I swore to her that I would protect you… Protect all of you…”

   “There was nothing you could have done…” one began to say.

   “No!” Malak said with a surprising amount of forcefulness given his current state. “No…. No, I should have… I could have!... I promised!”

   The noise, however, attracted the attention of the guards, for they returned, breaking up Malak and Ferroh with their shock pikes. “The Doctor is ready for his next patent,” one of the guards said. “Time for a visit to the vet, kitty….”

   “No!” Malak protested, throwing himself over Ferroh and blocking the Mandalorians. “Take me instead! Tell the Doctor that I have more left to show him.” And with this, he managed a painfully ironic grin. “He wants to study Force abilities… yet he’s still not discovered my secret ability. These are just younglings here. Surely the Doctor would rather study something a bit more… interesting.”

   “What are you doing?” Ferroh whispered to Malak.

   “Just play along,” Malak insisted.

   Ferroh hoped that the human male knew what he was doing. Malak allowed the guards to take him again. He couldn’t bring back Hazar, but at least he could buy time for the others. Surely his Master would sense that something was wrong and arrange a rescue for them soon enough. He only needed to make sure he could stall the situation long enough.

><><><><><

CHAPTER TWELVE: THE SECRETS OF FLASHPOINT STATION Part IV/V (chapter is too long for one post)

><><><><><

   The High Council had not expected to see the former Jedi who had taken the name of the ‘Revanchist’ again after the nature her previous departure. She had made it very clear to them before that she would not answer to them, and had lead many others astray with her after her departure. Yet here she stood, before them once more, much to their surprise.

   There were mixed reactions from the Masters on the Council. Some regarded her with curiosity, others with contempt. While it was not expected for her to come to them, her timing had been good, for there was something the Council had wished to discuss with her in person….

   “Halin Chan,” Master Vrook said addressing her. “Or should I say, Revanchist… Your presence in our chamber could not have come at any better a time. We have sensed something… disturbing that we wish to address you about.”

   The Revanchist was somewhat confused by these words. Could it be that they had shared the same vision as she had and already knew of the reason why she had come? “And what, might I ask, has the Council sensed?”

   At this point, one among them—Master Zez-Kai Ell—rose. The Revanchist looked to him, waiting to be addressed. “We see that you’ve come here alone… though it comes as no shock to us… Perhaps you yourself are unaware… Where are the others that have followed you into war?”

   The Revanchist was somewhat confused by this question. She sensed all was fine with Opela who was with Fiolli, and while there was a disturbance in Malak, it was only to be expected on the front lines. “We’ve divided our ranks in order to carry out separate investigations. Most are investigating the front lines on Suurja, while a smaller group is scouting other worlds on the Outer Rim…”

   “Not on Suurja, but on Flashpoint,” the Master continued. “My Padawan is among them… or he was.”

   The Revanchist did not understand his words. Had something happened on Suurja? If so, why had Malak not contacted her? He was to make immediate contact if something went wrong and there was need for return and regrouping. “I assure you that your Padawan is in good hands with my apprentice…”

   “My Padawan is dead, Revanchist. I sensed his death several hours ago. It was not a natural death, however. He was brutally tortured to death. My only comfort in knowing his end is that he suffers no longer.”

   The young woman paled. Something had clearly gone very wrong on Suurja… Flashpoint they had said… But Flashpoint had been taken by the Mandalorians at the Republics entry into the war. If they were on Flashpoint now…. But this was not why the Revanchist had come. She would need to go to them afterward, but the reason why she had originally come was still of the utmost importance. She would have to trust Malak to be able to handle things in the meantime.

   “I regret to hear of your loss,” the woman said. “However, your Padwan understood the risks of war before joining us. His death will not be in vain…”

   “He should not have had to die at all!”

   The Revanchist, and even some of the Council members were surprised by Master Zez-Kai Ell’s outburst. While it was obvious that the death of his Padawan had pained him greatly, such forward displays of emotion were unbecoming of a Jedi—particularly of a Master who sat on the Council. Master Vrook Lamar looked at his colleague and raised a hand, as if in an attempt to calm him. Master Zez-Kai Ell seemed to understand, for he took his seat again and allowed the other Council Members to continue the discussion on his behalf.

   “It is the duty,” Master Vrook continued, “of a teacher to not only train their student, but also to protect them. Because of your influence, Master Zez-Kai Ell has failed in protecting his Padawan. Forgive him if his emotions betray him after so great a loss… But you… You who have been so rife with emotions in the past… you show none now? Have you no compassion for the loss of your comrade?”

   The Revanchist could not help but to be offended by the suggestion. In all of their twisted wisdom…. Either she was condemned for feeling too much emotion, or she was condemned for showing none. It seemed that her decisions had set the Council against her permanently, regardless of what she might try to tell them. Still, she had to try. She had to warn them of what she had seen on Onderon.

   “I am upset by this knowledge as much as any other Jedi would be,” the Revanchist said in her defense. “However, grieving his loss will not help any of the others…”

   “It is your responsibility as their leader to remove them from this threat…”

   “And that is precisely what I intend to do! But before I can help them, I have come because I need to warn you.”

   “Warn us? Warn us of what?”

   “Of what I have seen. I left the company on Suurjah because of a vision that I had—a vision of Onderon and its moon Dxun. I’ve come to warn you of what I found there while investigating that vision.”

   The Council was silent, a moment of concern hanging in the air. They all knew well much of what lay on Dxun… A Sith tomb was there—the tomb of Freedon Nadd, who had ruled over the Onderonian people for many years. It was while investigating the existance of Sith artifacts on Dxun that Exar Kun, one of the last of the Jedi Watchmen since the time of the Great Sith War, had been seduced to the Dark Side and lured to Korriban. If there was something there, then perhaps the return of the Sith was sooner than the Council had initially anticipated. They looked forward to this warning of the Revanchist with dread. After all, much of the information that she had previously tried to access from the archives was related to Dxun…

   “And what did this vision of yours show you?” one of them finally asked.

   “What I saw was a darkness, descending from Dxun and engulfing Onderon. When I went to investigate the situation, the locals warned me about the strong hold that the Dark Side has on that place. They said that the tomb of Freedon Nadd, who once ruled Onderon, is located on Dxun.”

   She knew from their previous reactions that they were already aware of Exar Kun’s experience on the planet. From what she could figure, it must have been a portion of the information from the records that they had been keeping hidden. She chose, however, to indulge them in the illusion of secrecy. There was no need for her to tell them of Exar Kun’s fate. It was the other things which she had seen on Dxun that were her reasoning for appearing before them now.

“When I went to the moon,” she continued, “What I found there was more than just remnants from the Great Sith War… As all of you know, the Mandalorians took the side of the Sith and aided them during that war. One of their bases was located on Dxun, presumably because of the Dark Side presence there… Regretfully, I have found that this base does not seem to have been abandoned after the previous war as it has long thought to have been. Not only was it active, bit it seemed to have been some sort of command center… Had it not been for the Force cloak ability, I doubt I would be standing here right now at all. If the Mandalorian base on Dxun remains, then it is entirely possible that they still have some sort of involvement with the Sith. When I left, they were in the process of planning something, presumably against Onderon itself, but I could not stay to find out for certain if I hoped to make it back here to warn all of you.”

There was a moment of silent glances between Council Members after the Revanchist’s story. It was Master Atris who finally broke the silence.

“The Council does not deny the possibility that the Dark Side may be involved in the current corruption of the Mandalorians. However, our decision to without the Jedi from entering war remains, and while what you saw on Onderon and Dxun is disturbing, you had no business investigating on your own. We can’t afford this sort of… adventurism right now, even if we were supporting it!”

“And involving other Knights and Padawans in your ‘scouting missions’ is simply beyond reproach! You will find them and return them to Coruscant without any further delay,” stated Master Vrook. “As we’ve previously stated, there is no place for the Jedi Order in the Mandalorian War”

The Revanchist regarded the Council in disbelief. She understood their concern for the rest of the Revanchists, but what she couldn’t understand was their continued denial of the magnitude of the Mandalorian threat. She didn’t know what more to say. What could she say when it was all directed toward deaf ears? There was no point in arguing any further. Malak and the others were counting on her now….

Silently, she bowed and took her leave, but was stopped just after leaving by the five Masters whom she had met on Taris prior to heading out for Suurja and who were now entering to see the High Council. She could only assume that the Council had recalled them for their own safety, since Taris was so close to the front lines of the war.

“Well, we meet again!” spoke Master Lucian Draay, the only guardian among them. The Revanchist hadn’t forgiven them for their mocking of her cause. Even the high Council were not so cruel as to laugh to her face regarding the matter. “I’m sorry that we weren’t able to oblige you on Taris, but I trust that your investigations were enlightening?”

The Revanchist swallowed, keeping as cool as she was able to given the circumstances. “You see now that I right, do you not? The truth is written in blood.” Yes, it was written in the blood of the Padawan she had been unable to protect from the horrors of war. The Mandalorians were not out for negotiations or for mercy… They would stop at nothing in their efforts for galactic conquest.

“I’m sorry,” Master Draay continued, “but I’m not sure I know which truth you mean…”

She could feel her body beginning to tremble all over. The level of ignorance which she continued to face was becoming more and more difficult to bear. But now was not the time…

“Goodbye Lucien Draay,” she managed to say. “I have learners to save. The Council will see you now.” And with this, she left.

><><><><><

   “Is that all you’ve got?” Malak managed through his teeth as the Doctor Demagol ripped away the wire which had been stuck through an incision into his head in order to monitor brain waves. It was all he could do to prevent himself from succumbing to the pain and having his vital functions shut down. He had to buy them time—time enough for their leader to realize that something was wrong and to come up with a plan for their rescue. He knew her well enough to have faith that it would be soon.

   “I will admit,” the Doctor began, “you’ve proven to be a most resilient test subject. My results are still somewhat inconclusive… but I’m sure we can fix that…. Guards?”

   Two of the Mandalorian sock troupers appeared from the doorway and stood ready at attention. It was very clear that, while it wasn’t a military post per-se that the Doctor held, he was very much in charge of the goings on within the station.

   “Take this patient away,” the Doctor continued. “I require time to analyze my most recent findings…”

   “Yes Doctor!” they replied, and they unstrapped Malak, taking him away,

   The guards tossed Malak roughly back into the waiting room. There was a gasp from the other Jedi in the room as they saw their companion return to them in such a state. His robes were tattered, his head was bleeding, and he was scratched and cut all over. Malak groaned, attempting to push himself up and roll over to his side. An arm came to help him, but, to his surprise, it didn’t belong to anyone whom he knew.

   It was a female Arkanian Offshoot who, while clearly as terrified as the rest of them, seemed to have a sort of spirit still about her. She hadn’t been broken yet…

   “You’re new,” he commented as he managed to sit up with the woman’s help.

   “I’m Jarael,” she replied to him. “But I’m not supposed to be here….”

   “None of us are,” he replied simply. He wanted to tell her about his anticipation of his Master’s recue for them, but to speak it might cause complications. After all, if the Mandalorians knew that she were coming, they would have time to set up another ambush…

   Something was odd about this girl though. She didn’t have the same presence as the others there. Her presence was…. clouded at best. He wasn’t sure what to make of it really, but one thing was for certain—this girl was no Jedi. She really wasn’t supposed to be here…

   Suddenly, a voice came from behind. It was the Doctor! “A fresh arrival! Oh, welcome, my dear woman! Perhaps you can help me with a little problem I’ve been having. You see, I have an endless supply of theories about Jedi abilities, yet I keep running out of Jedi. Won’t you join me?”

   “Demagol, wait,” Malak interrupted. He knew that if she were to undergo the same tests that he had, she would not make it out alive. Even some Jedi couldn’t handle the tests—someone who wasn’t a Jedi at all stood no chance. “Leave her—I’ll go.”

   The Doctor shook his head, making a tsk tsk sound. “Now now, you know that you’re my favorite, but this is rude to our new guest.”

   “Take me, I insist,” Malak continued. He managed a bit of a cocky smile as if to challenge the Doctor. “Surely I must have some ability that you haven’t discovered yet…”

   “What are you doing!?” The woman said in protest.

“These are trials that only a Jedi can survive, Jarael. And I think that we both know That I’m the only Jedi in this conversation…”

   The shock troopers came and seized Malak again. He wasn’t certain how he would be able to handle this, especially so soon after his last appointment, but he needed to stall for time. And he couldn’t allow anyone else to suffer the same fate as Hazar Kasra… He had to try…

><><><><><

[]u]CHAPTER TWELVE: THE SECRETS OF FLASHPOINT STATION[/u] Part V/V (chapter is too long for one post)

   Again, Malak was tossed back into the waiting room with the other Jedi and with the Arkanian. He could barely feel his limbs this time. There was no way that he would be able to handle another session for some time. Dammit, Halin, where are you?….

   He winced, groaning in pain against the floor without the strength to get up again when the Arkankian woman came and rolled him over onto his back. “Hello Jarael,” he said, trying to manage a smile at her. “We have to stop meeting like this, you know?”

   “You can’t let them keep torturing you like this,” she scolded him. “You’re going to get yourself killed!”

   It wasn’t long after that the doctor himself entered the waiting room. “Guards, I want the Arkanian woman next. A race so loving of science… it seems fitting, don’t you think? Yes, I believe that she will particularly appreciate my work.”

   Doctor Demagol motioned for the guards to seize the Arkanian woman. The shock troopers moved into position. Malak closed his eyes. There was nothing more that he could do for her without letting his Master—his Halin—down. He had promised her that he would protect the other Revanchists. If he died for this woman, who was to stop Demagol the Flesh Carver from carving away the others? It would be a miracle if she survived the operation…

   However, it seemed like it was a day for miracles. Just as the guards were seizing Jarael, a fourth Mandalorian entered the room. He was escorting with him a young man.

“I have your next patient, Demagol,” the Mandalorian said.

“Don’t bother me with younglings, warrior. I need real Jedi for my research…” the Doctor scoffed.

“He’s definitely no youngling. Nearly broke my neck stopping him. Set him up for an appointment, Doc. I want to see him hurt—bad!”

“I will see him soon enough. Right now, I have plans for this young lady…”

“And I’ve got a war to get back to, Demagol. We do this now!”

The Doctor scoffed at the remark. “Very well then, to the laboratory…”

And the Mandalorians left the room with the new captive in tow.

“That was Zayne!” the Arkanian woman gasped.

“Zayne?” Malak managed. The name sounded familiar… Jedi named Zayne… Jedi named Zayne… “You mean Zayne Carrick?” The only Zayne he could think of was the bumbling Padawan he’d met briefly on Taris before the Revanchists had left for the front lines.

“You know him too?” asked the woman.

“We met briefly on Taris just before my group set out for Suurja… How do you know him?”

“It’s a long story… But it’s strange. He was acting like he didn’t even notice us…”

“Oh I’m sure he did. I have a feeling something’s up here. Let’s just hope that the situation turns out in our favor…”

The agony of waiting is what followed. In that time, Malak slowly managed to regain enough strength to sit up… not that it would matter if they didn’t find a way out of this mess soon. The guards were gone long enough with the situation that Ferroh was able to do a little more to heal him. However, the Cathar didn’t have enough strength left to do very much.

After a few brief minutes, the Doctor, the Mandalorian guards, and the Mandalorian warrior returned. However, Zayne Carrick did not appear to be with them.

“Well that was mildly disappointing,” the warrior said. I’d assumed he would have lasted longer. Must’ve beaten most of the life out of him back on the ship…”

“No! You animal!” The Arkanian woman was beyond herself with this comment. From her reactions to the situation, Malak could only assume that she harbored some sort of feelings for the boy…. She sprung forward, tackling the

Doctor before the shock troopers could stop her. The situation wasn’t looking good…

The guards made a move to seize her but, surprisingly, the warrior stopped them. “Stay back! I’ll handle this,” he said. “Demagoll wants us to preserve the specimens…”

The woman, who was on top of Demagol and holding him by the throat, suddenly froze, and the Mandalorian warrior tossed her aside, helping the doctor up. What’s going on here…

“I’d like to watch you deal with her later,” the Warrior told the Doctor. “Now how about that tour of the station you promised me?” With this, the Mandalorians departed once more.

“What happened?” Malak asked the Arkanian woman. “You had him…”

“I… I heard a voice… It was… strange,” she said, attempting to explain to him. “It was Zayne’s voice…”

><><><><><

   An hour passed since the Mandalorians had last been seen. As strange as it was, no one dared to try to move. After all, it was likely to be another trap. They couldn’t have possibly left so many Jedi completely unattended for so long. No, someone had to be watching them…

   Explosions could be head in the distance outside. Was the station under attack? Were they finally being rescued? Something was clearly going on here…

   Eventually, the Doctor Demagol and the Mandalorian warrior re-entered the room. This time, however, the Doctor removed his helmet. Inside was not the monster that all had expected, but the Jedi Padawan Zayne Carrick.

   “Sorry about the noise,” the boy said. “Just trying out a few mining charges we found. I don’t know for sure, but I think they worked…” He then spoke into a commlink. “All right, Gromkettle, you can lay off the fireworks now. Wait until the next night cycle and the come on over to pick us up.”

   “Zayne!” The Arkanian exclaimed, and she ran over, throwing her arms around him, causing the boy to laugh and to stagger. Ferroh and one of the other Revanchists went to Malak and helped him to stand. Malak watched the two. There was a divide in the Jedi about the issue of relationships among the order. It didn’t take much to see that there was something clearly very special between these two. Malak only hoped that they would be able to pursue together what he had not, though whether his inability to do so was by choice to adhere to the Council’s rules, or by fear of rejection was debatable.

   “Help me get to somewhere I can patch through a communication,” Malak told the others. “The Revanchist should know of our location…”

   After some looking, they were able to find a com center in the station. Malak patched through the codes to transmit directly to the Stalwart Nightingale.

   “Can anyone hear me? This is Malak of the Revanchists, over.”

   “Malak? Malak, is that really you?” It was the Revanchist herself who’s voice came through. “Malak, where are you?”

   “Flashpoint Station,” he replied. “We were ambushed on Suurja… Hey, listen, there’s something I need to tell you…”

   “About Hazar? I already know. The Council told me. They sent me to come find you…”

   “The Council? As in the Jedi High Council? I thought that you and the Council weren’t exactly on speaking terms…”

   “We’re not,” she admitted. “And now, perhaps even less so than before… But that’s not important right now. Do you have transportation?”

   “I think so, but there’s something here we’d like to bring back to the Republic—a demented scientist who calls himself a Doctor. Studies Jedi using live specimens for his experiments.”

   There was a moment of silence over the radio.

   “You still with me here?” Malak asked.

   “Oh?... Yes, sorry... I was just… thinking…”

   “Well, you can think more while you’re waiting for us to meet up. We’re heading back to Coruscant.”

   “Can you meet me half way on Katarr? We can regroup there and discuss the next course of action.”

   “Sounds like a plan. To Katarr then. We’ll see you in few days. Malak out.”

   It would be a few days journey before the two parties would be able to meet one another. Malak was curious as to what the Republic would say and do about their new prisoner of war. Perhaps this would be the key to having the Revanchists recognized as an official group within the war effort instead of just as some renegade band of Jedi who left the Order on their own crusade against the Mandalorians. Only time would tell. They would just have to hope for the best.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter contains multiple depictions of mass genocide, weapons of mass destruction, graphic violence and mutilation, and psychological torture. Reader discretion is advised.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: SERROCCO & THE CATHAR MASSACRE (Part 1 of a lot)

The Miraluka planet of Katarr was brimming and alive with the Force. It was the reason why the Revanchist had suggested that they rendezvous here before taking the prisoner to Coruscant to go on trial. It would be far easier for the Revanchists to recover from their recent nightmare on Flashpoint in a place that was so full with energy from the Force.

Many were deep in meditation as the ships—the Stalwart Nightingale and the Williwaw—sat landed on the planet’s surface. Away from the others so as not to disturb them, the Revanchist sat in the med bay of the Nightingale with her apprentice, tending to his head wounds. Across the entirety of his skull were a network of crude stitches which seemed to be holding him together. It appeared as though Demagol had performed a vivisection on the man’s head in an attempt to observe the brain. There were soft spots also along many of the stitched points. The Revanchist could only assume that the doctor had drilled through the bone in these places.

In all, Malak was lucky just to be alive. The guilt of this thought ate away at the woman’s soul. Had it not been for the stroke of luck with that Padawan from Taris, it was almost certain he would have been dead before she could reach Flashpoint.

The man grimaced, letting out a groan as his Master applied a Fresh kolto patch to his head. The Revanchist winced at the sound.

“Sorry,” she said. “I’m trying to be as gentle as I can…. I… I’m sorry….”

“Why do you keep apologizing? You’re not the one who carved my head open.”

“I may as well have been…”

“Halin…”

“Please don’t call me that.”

Malak let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t like the Revanchist.”

The woman froze, her hands trembling. She swallowed, so as to contain her emotions from escaping. The words cut through her like a knife.

“The Revanchist,” he continued, “is so caught up in chasing phantom visions that she forgets the real war is happening right in front of her. Halin, on the other hand… Halin would have sensed the distress of a friend much sooner…

I’d rather follow Halin into battle than the Revanchist….”

He waited for a reply from her, but the woman remained silent, her eyes downcast, lost in thought. Malak sighed again.

“I’m not sure why I bother…” he said plainly.

The Revanchist choked on the well of emotions caught there in her throat. She made a move as if to leave, but her apprentice caught her wrist before she could do so.

“Please… Please just speak to me,” he said to her. “I’m trying to understand… To understand what’s happening to you. You’ve not been yourself since we met in the grove on Dantooine. I don’t understand why you’re suddenly so cold lately…”

There was another moment of silence between them. He waited, and waited… and finally, she answered:

“The Council was right…”

The man looked at the woman in disbelief, wondering if he had heard her correctly. Even as Halin, the woman before him had always had her fair share of disagreements with the Jedi Council. These disagreements were what drove her to enter the war—what drove her to become the Revanchist in the first place… and now, she was saying that they were right?

“…I had sensed your distress some time ago… Not long after having arrived on Deralia…”

“Then why did you ignore it if you knew something was wrong?”

“Because you are Malak.”

The man looked at her, puzzled at the answer. He’d assumed that the name she’d given to him was a passing whim, meant to separate their current actions from their time in the Order as Halin and Alex…

“I don’t like Malak either…” he replied bitterly.

“Don’t say that…”

“And why shouldn’t I?”

“Please….”

“Please what? Please just accept that my closest friend left me and all of the rest of those who followed her to be tortured to death by the Mandalorians? Well you know what, Revanchist? I can’t do that! You don’t care what happens to any of us! Look at me! Look at what they’ve done to me! Do you think that this,” he said, pointing to his scalp with his free hand, “hurts? Well what hurts even more is you! I….”

He caught himself before he could say it. ‘I love you’ were the words that wanted desperately to escape his lips, but he could not bring himself to say it out loud. Not now… He looked at her face. Her eyes were wide with obvious remorse as she stared at him. This situation must have caused her just as much pain as it had him. He sighed, letting go of her wrist.

“I miss Halin…” he said gently.

“I’m sorry…” she said in a voice no louder than a whisper. “I truly am…”

“Sorry doesn’t alter the past….”

“I know that… but it can alter the future… I’ve decided to disband the Revanchists once we return to Coruscant….”

“What!? You can’t be serious…”

“One of them is already dead because of my foolishness, and I almost you as well. The Council was right. It was stupid of me to involve anyone else in this. I shouldn’t have let you follow me. I shouldn’t have let any of you follow me!”

“We followed you because we thought that you were right—because we believed in what the Revanchist stood for… We believed in ‘justice for the innocent.’ We believed in you…”

She simply shook her head. “You’re all better off without me. I… I can’t ask you to risk your lives in vain….”

“If we stop now, then everything will have been in vain.”

“But…”

“But what?”

The young woman froze. She’d heard the voice again—and this time, it hadn’t been a vision. There on Dxun…. There was more there than just Mandalorian outposts, or even Sith tombs… There were even greater forces at work. She debated for a moment whether she could tell him. Perhaps… perhaps little at a time… Until she was sure that he was ready to understand….

“I’m a danger to all of you… it’s these visions… I’m no seer, but they’re so… so vivid… I don’t know how to control them… and all I see… all I see is darkness… so much darkness….”

Her words concerned Malak. Just what kind of darkness was she talking about here? “Can you be any more specific? Onderon, for example… what did you see exactly?”

“I saw the planet and its moon… at first, everything was peaceful… but then a sort of shadow started stretching from the moon, like an eclipse that engulfed the entire planet… and then… and then there was a voice…”

“A voice? What sort of a voice?”

“It was difficult to distinguish at first… and yet it seemed as though it were always there… and it wasn’t the first time that I heard it either… The same voice was in my previous vision…”
Malak was a bit confused by this. She had told him previously of her first vision, but had never mentioned any sort of a voice… “But what did the voice say to you?”

It was here that the woman froze in hesitation. “I… I can’t say it… I dare not repeat it…”

“You need help. Maybe back on Coruscant there is a seer among the order who can help you interpret their meanings… Who can help you learn to control when the visions come…”

“And then what? I can’t stay there… Someone needs to help the Republic with their war, Malak. And while I don’t want to risk you or the others, it doesn’t mean that I plan on stopping myself.”

Malak just shook his head. “I swear you’re the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met… Whether you like it or not, you’re stuck with me. You can’t do this alone… Discuss it with the others if you will, but I think that they’ll agree with me.”

“I put all of you in danger. I knew that something had gone wrong, I sensed your distress, but I did not act. I foolishly continued on my own, thinking that you would be able to handle the situation just fine without me…”

“Well then, change the future,” he said. “Don’t go running off on your own any more. Let us help you… Promise me that much. If there is something that you need to investigate… another one of these visions, you’ll take me with you. And if you sense that something is even the slightest bit wrong, you’ll attempt to check in with someone from that company… We all knew that this would be dangerous, Halin. We knew it when we first decided to join you…”

“Please don’t call me Halin….”

“I’m sorry… I can’t help it. You’re not the Revanchist—not to me, at least. It’s too impersonal. Will it really kill you to let me call you by your name? At least in private?”

She bit her lip. “I suppose if the others aren’t around…”

“It’s settled then. At least until you manage something that’s less of a mouthful, for me, you’re Halin.” He smiled at her, as if attempting to lighten the mood.

Halin returned the smile. “And I promise to check in more often instead of rushing off on my own… Even if you are Malak.”

“There you go again… I still don’t understand why you call me that. I still prefer Alex. I get it that you want to disconnect from your life as Halin… but is it really necessary for me too?”

“Surely it isn’t so bad…”

“But is it necessary? Malak… what does that even mean?”

The woman smiled again and took up a fresh kolto patch to change the one she had previously placed on his head. “You know, I call you ‘Malak’ as a compliment…. It was clear after you refused to leave me in the grove…. Malak is the Angel.”

The man would have raised an eyebrow at this, but extraneous facial movements pulled on where the stitches were, and so they were best avoided. The Revanchist removed the old patch and applied the new.

“You are Malak because you protect,” she continued to explain. “Because you watch over… It is for this reason that I left you in charge on Suurja…” It was at this point that her expression became somber again. “Why I had assumed that all would be okay….”

Again, silence fell upon the two. This time, it was Malak to break it. “I’m sorry I let you down…”

Halin sighed. “You never let me down…. I suppose I just assumed too much. I was naïve…. I realized that this was a war, but somehow I thought just scouting would be less dangerous… The fighting was over. There was no reason for there to have been an ambush on Suurja… They shouldn’t have known we were there…. I’m so sorry… You did everything that you could, Malak. Hazar should have been my responsibility, not yours… He was too young. I never should have let him near the front with your company… I should have been there to stop it…”

“Halin, if you had been there, they would have captured you too. They would have tortured you too. And Opela, and Fiolli… We should just be grateful those of us who made it through did… How does it look up there?”

“Pretty bad,” the woman admitted, examining his injuries. “I’m doing what I can, but you’re going to have some nasty scars…”

“Maybe I’ll just have to start going around with a hood all of the time like you do,” he said half-jokingly. “Or I could always get a tattoo or something to cover them. I’ve always wanted an excuse to get one…”

“Now that I’d like to see,” Halin laughed. “All right, nerf herder, I should go check up on the others…”

“Nerf herder? I thought I had been upgraded an ‘angel’ now.”

“Watch it, Malak—even angels can still be nerf-herders. Now get some rest. We’ll be leaving soon.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, watching as the Revanchist left the med bay. They would need to get the prisoner to Coruscant as quickly as possible. Malak didn’t like the idea of keeping him around, yet Halin had insisted that the best option would be to have the Republic hold him on trial. He supposed that might have been the most ‘Jedi’ approach to the situation… but a part of him craved to see the demented Doctor suffer in exactly the way he had made the Jedi suffer. A trial would be justice, but a greater satisfaction would have come with revenge.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter contains multiple depictions of mass genocide, weapons of mass destruction, graphic violence and mutilation, and psychological torture. Reader discretion is advised.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: SERROCCO & THE CATHAR MASSACRE (Part 2 of a lot)

><><><><><

   The Revanchists were returning to Coruscant with prisoner in tow. They were all understandably shaken after the events on Flashpoint. The situation had been like a cold splash of reality to the overenthusiastic advances the group had made. Suurja was a lesson to be remembered.

   In light of her companions’ obvious uneasiness at the prospect, the Revanchist herself had agreed to be the one to watch over the prisoner they carried. He was quite different in appearance than the Mandalorians she had witnessed on Dxun during her investigations. His armor was generally more lithe and slender, and seemed to be outfitted with some additional equipment for medical or scientific purposes.

   He had been knocked out by a rogue Mandalorian who had been helping the Taris Padawan at Flashpoint station, but it was unknown whether the unconscious state of the prisoner would continue until they reached Coruscant. After all, the Core Worlds were a long way from the Outer Rim… The Revanchist hated being stuck on guard duty, but she supposed that it was only fair given the way things had turned out up until this point.

   She had been there for a few hours already when the prisoner began to stir. She moved a hand to her lightsaber to be ready in case of any dangerous situation which might arise. The prisoner was bound, but, given his history, she did not wish to take any chances…

   “Don’t move,” she warned him. “They’ve told me all about you, Demagol the Flesh Carver.”

   A low chuckle erupted from the suit of Mandalorian armor. “Did they now? I suppose I should be flattered that you’ve heard of me, Jedi… You weren’t among my patients though… I would have remembered a pretty face…”

   “You would have remembered the name of the Revanchist, Demagol! I was not there when my company was ambushed on Suurja and brought to your laboratory on Flashpoint. I was not there when you killed a Padawan among them in cold blood, or when you nearly tortured my apprentice to death. But I am here now and I will see to it personally that you pay for your crimes.”

   “The Revanchist? Is that so… Somehow I always thought you would be a man… and taller.”

   “Don’t try my patience. Many would not be so kind as to take you to Coruscant for trial. It’s a bit ironic, really… that after your heinous experiments on Jedi, your life should only be spared now because of the mercy of the Jedi….”

   “Don’t lecture me about your mercy missions, Revanchist. We both know very well that there’s no place for such foolishness in times of war. You and I are not so very different, you know? We each support the war effort in our own unique ways, unorthodox they may be….”

   The woman clenched her teeth. “I’m nothing like you, Demagol!”

   “Ah, you see, but that is where you are wrong….” The low laughter began again. The Revanchist could feel it echoing over and over, pounding inside of her skull. She clenched her hands over her ears, trying to muffle the sound, but it just kept pounding and pounding, as if it were not coming from the outside at all. And then… and then the voice came, slipping through the noise like oil over a smooth hard surface…

   ‘You are no hero… you are no savior… like the Flesh Carver, you will be… the Butcher!’

   “Shut up!” she screamed “Get out of my head!”

   Without warning, without thinking, she grabbed her lightsaber hilt in one hand and reached out, her fingers stretched out as if to lock him into a choke and, while she never physically made contact with him, the Mandalorian rose from the ground, clutching at his throat…. But the laughter did not stop. The laughter continued pounding and pounding and pounding until…

   “Halin? Halin!”

   It was Malak’s voice. Suddenly, she realized what she was doing and let go of the prisoner, deactivating her lightsaber and returning the hilt to her belt. She clutched her hand which hand locked the prisoner into a choke and massaged it gently through her glove. The sound of the voice and of the laughter had suddenly stopped, but her temples were still throbbing, her ears still ringing.

   “What were you thinking!?” her apprentice exclaimed. “I was watching the security cameras and suddenly heard you scream and saw your lightsaber… What was going on!?”

   “The voice! The voice was there… He was laughing and then came and it… it…”

   “Laughing? Halin, what are you talking about? Demagol has been unconscious the whole time. Whatever that Mandalorian did to him back on Flashpoint knocked him out good…”

   “The whole time…” Halin murmured in repetition.

   “I don’t like this. You’re mixing the visions with reality. It’s like you don’t know what’s what any more…. You need help.”

   “No! No… No, I’ll be fine… I need to meditate, that’s all. My mind is restless….”

   “It seems a little more than restless… You almost killed him, Halin.”

   “I know that! I… I don’t know what’s wrong with me…” She massaged her hand again, as if to check if it were really her own. What she had felt in that moment… What she had felt was hate, desperation, unrestrained raw emotions… and what had alarmed her the most about it was how natural it had felt. “Please,” she continued, more softly this time, “I need to meditate… Did anyone else see the security footage during that time?”

   Malak shook his head, “Not that I am aware of.”

   “Good,” she said, giving a single nod. “See to it that it stays that way…. Lock the prisoner away and ensure there is nothing nearby that could be used for escape. I will be meditating in the Starboard dormitories should you need me.”

   With this, she swiftly left, still rubbing her hand the whole time. Malak was concerned. He knew very well what he had seen. It was a common Sith technique used to cause asphyxiation, crushing the windpipe of one’s opponent. While he’d heard of it before, he’d never actually seen the technique in person. After all, the Sith had hidden their presence since the time of the Great Sith War. But this wasn’t some Sith who had suddenly come out of hiding… This was his friend. This was his Halin….

   Once he had finished securing the prisoner, he left to go find her. Something was very much not right. It was only getting progressively worse, and if they didn’t figure out something soon, then surely her mind would be lost… He knew very well that she was against seeking the aid of the Order on Coruscant, but it may very well have been her only chance for stopping the progression.

   He found her in the starboard dormitory, just as she had said. However, upon entering, he felt that there was a second presence in the room. A strange, dark presence. Something else was here. Something seemed to be following Halin. It was then that he heard it…

   “Tse satsetop sirbmu ni…”

   Malak looked about frantically. Was this the voice that Halin had been talking about?...

   “Tse satsetop sirbmu ni!”

   He looked to where it seemed to be coming from. There was a footlocker with a faint red glow between the cracks of the opening—a glow that seemed to be coming from inside. He approached the footlocker when he heard:

   “Don’t touch it!”

   It was Halin. She’d broken her meditation and had rushed to him, catching his arm. He turned to look at her.

   “It’s trying to trick you into letting it out,” she continued.

   “But what is it?” Malak asked.

   The Revanchist swallowed. She hesitated, glancing around the room to ensure that no one else was there before replying to him. “It’s a Sith Holocron.”

   “Here!? But what is it doing on board?”

   “It’s something I picked up while on Dxun… While I was investigating the moon and the Mandalorian base there, I found it…”

   “Don’t tell me you opened it!?” Malak exclaimed, ripping his arm from her grasp

   “Of course not! I’m not stupid! But I couldn’t just leave it there either…. What if it were somehow responsible for corrupting the Mandalorians? Or even worse—what if they discovered how to access its knowledge of the Dark Side? It was too dangerous to be left there…”

   “I wouldn’t say that here, on a ship full of Jedi, is any less dangerous…”

   “Well, as you recall, it was not my original intention to be among everyone again so soon… I was hoping to be able to locate a safe place where it could be left or destroyed before the Council sent me to retrieve you from Flashpoint…”

   “Why didn’t you leave it with the Council while you were there?”

   “The thought had crossed my mind… but how do you think they would react if I brought them such a thing? Many of them had already condemned me for starting the Revanchist movement in the first place, and the situation with Hazar and Flashpoint station only served to worsen my relationship with the Council. You should have seen Master Zez-Kai Ell when I appeared before them… Imagine what they might think if I brought them a real Sith holocron! They would probably assume I was some sort of Sith Lord come to uproot their entire ancient tradition.”

   Halin tried to force laughter at her own remark, but it only faded breathlessly into a terrified expression on her face as she again clutched at her own hand.

   “Malak?” she continued, “Do you think me a bad person?”

   “Of course not,” he said. “I wouldn’t have followed you if I did…. But I do think that you need help. You can’t take on the burden of everything by yourself. You need to leave the holocron with the Council.”

   “I’ve already told you why I can’t do that… Besides, who is to say it wouldn’t corrupt them as well?”

   “While you may not agree with all of their choices, and neither do I… the Masters are far more experienced in dealing with such things… I have an idea. You said that Opela and Fiolli were also meeting back with us on Coruscant?”

   “Yes…”

   “Then have Opela bring it to them.”

   The Revanchist considered the thought. Opela had a good standing relationship with many of the high Council members…. At least, before she had joined the war effort. There was no doubt that it would be easier for Opela to bring such a thing before the Council than it would be for her to do such a thing herself. Yes… Yes, perhaps such a thing would work after all…

   “Tse satsetop sirbmu ni!”

   “Hush, you!,” Halin said, turning sharply to the footlocker where the holocron was stashed. “I’ll not have you causing any more problems on board.” She turned back to Malak. “We contact Opela immediately and explain to her the situation. In the meantime, the starboard dormitory is to be closed to everyone. No one may enter until we’re docked and the holocron is being removed—this including ourselves… On that note, I would rather not stay here. It’s becoming restless with so many Jedi around and I don’t know how much longer I can resist its temptation in such close proximity….”

   Malak nodded. It was agreed. They would leave the holocron for the Council to dispose of. Malak was a bit relieved by this. After all, perhaps it would allow for his friend to get some much needed rest. He had never seen her in such a state as she had been locked in the room with Demagol… But at the same time, her visions had started before Dxun. No… no, surely there was much more to it than this. She knew something that she still wasn’t telling him. There were greater powers at work here. Something was watching them. Somewhere, an invisible puppet master was pulling all of the strings attached to this war. Only time would tell whether they were all a part of the puppet show as well.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter contains multiple depictions of mass genocide, weapons of mass destruction, graphic violence and mutilation, and psychological torture. Reader discretion is advised.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: SERROCCO & THE CATHAR MASSACRE (Part 3 of a lot)

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Opela followed in close step with Master Atris as the Council Member carefully transported the holocron through a series of passages leading to a vault underneath the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. The thing seemed to be screaming all of the while, as if it knew and understood their intentions to dispose of it. The whole task made Opela rather nervous. She could feel the dark side energy which radiated from the holocron. She regarded Master Atris with a concerned expression, but the Master remained focused with her gaze forward.

“What language is it speaking?” Opela asked. “I’ve never heard anything like it before….”

“It is of the ancient Sith tongue,” the Master replied. “Pray you never have to hear it again…”

“What is it saying?

“Things that I dare not repeat… Explain to me where you found this again?”

Opela shook her head. “I didn’t find it. Halin did when she was on Dxun she said…”

“Ah yes, the self-proclaimed ‘Revanchist’… She should have told us of this rather than about the Mandalorian base when she appeared before the Council… No doubt she was debating using its knowledge for herself. It wouldn’t be the first time she attempted to access knowledge that was forbidden…”

Opela was confused by the way of which Master Atris spoke of Halin. It seemed that her distaste for the woman was rooted in occurrences from even before the emergence of the Revanchist. “Master Atris, why do you despise her so?”

“I feel no such thing,” the Master replied. “Hatred is the path to the Dark Side… I merely believe that she should show more respect for the Council’s decisions and try to see their wisdom behind them rather than reacting so violently in opposition. Her actions were irresponsible and cost one young Padawan his life. I’m only glad now that you and the rest have returned so that her poor influence can harm you no longer.”

“She meant no harm in her actions. She had thought all of us to be safe. It was why she had chosen to place everyone where she did, based on their strengths… Though I’m sure she will consider placements differently in future scouting…”

Master Atris stopped, causing Opela to stop alongside her. “Future scouting? Don’t tell me that you intend to follow her back into this war…”

“I made her a promise, Master Atris, and I intend to keep it.”

Master Atris continued walking, quickening her pace this time so that Opela practically had to jog to keep up with her.

“No! She will lead all of you astray! It is foolishness! This holocron only further proves such. Mark my words, Opela Moraf—the horrors that you will find in war are ones that no one can fully cope with—Jedi or not—without grave consequences. Continuing to follow down this path will lead you to violence, hatred, destruction, and ultimately the Dark Side. You will not return as yourself—if you return at all!”

It was at this point that the two made it to the doors of a large vault beneath the temple.

“You are not permitted beyond this point. There are many relics of the Dark Side here that could easily corrupt a mind unprepared. That is, if you’ve not begun to be corrupted already. Reflect upon my words, Opela Moraf. For if you leave this temple and join with the Revanchist again on this crusade, you will not remain a Jedi.”

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“Why did you come with them here?” The Revanchist asked, the irritation evident in her voice. Her arms were folded as she stood face-to-face with Talon Chan on the Deralian deep-space shuttle that Opela and Fiolli had returned upon. “Deralia needs you in case of another attack. If the Mandalorians return, it will be in much greater numbers than before.”

“Halin, they need you just as much as they need me,” Talon protested.

“I told you, I’m not Halin anymore!”

“Revanchist or not, you’re still Halin Chan. You’re still my little sister.”

“And you’re still not listening to me. You shouldn’t be here!”

“Why are you like this? It seems like you’re avoiding me….”

“Well, if it seems like I’m avoiding you, then perhaps that’s because I am. I’ve already lost someone under my command and I don’t need you foolishly following me around and getting yourself killed while trying to deal in Jedi business.”

Talon shook his head. “You just don’t get it, do you? I’m trying to help you, Halin…”

“I don’t need your help.”

“Why do you hate me? What did I do deserve this from you?”

“I don’t hate you, I—” She stopped herself mid-sentence, swallowing hard. She understood well why the Order discouraged contact with family members. It was a strange set of emotions that surrounded Talon’s presence, and she didn’t understand them. It made her feel uncomfortable. It made it difficult to focus. The woman let out a sigh. “I don’t hate you….” She repeated, more gently this time.

Talon was no less confused about his sister’s treatment of him. He wasn’t certain whether she was trying to protect him or trying to forget him. The man sighed and reached out, placing his hands on her shoulders. “I’m just worried about your safety… Being a Jedi was never a ‘safe’ thing to begin with, but war… war is something completely different…. People aren’t willing to negotiate. Lives are lost every day. Likes are taken every day….”

He broke off and turned from her, going to a locker there on the ship. “I wanted to bring this for you,” he said, opening the locker and pulling out something gleaming in bronze. “You’re going to need it if you end up on the front lines…”

The Revanchist looked at the thing which Talon Chan held before her. It was a suit of armor in the style of the Deralian Royal Military Guard.

“I’m not wearing that,” she said simply.

“In case you haven’t noticed, Jedi robes don’t offer the greatest protection against blaster fire…”

“That’s what a lightsaber is for. Besides, how is one supposed to move in that stuff?”

“Halin, please take it.”

“Fine. But I’m not wearing it.”

Talon rolled his eyes. “You always were stubborn, even as a kid. Just… promise me you’ll be careful out there…”

“Only if you promise to go back to Deralia.”

“I promise.”

“Then I swear to you that I will be careful not to get hit be any stray blaster fire.”

Talon chuckled. “That’s close enough I suppose… Well then, if I’m going to be getting back, I’ll need you to get off of my ship. Otherwise you’re coming back with me.”

The young woman smiled. “Goodbye, Talon. I’m sorry our meetings are so brief…”

“I’m just happy they exist at all. Given our track record before, I would say it’s quite the improvement.”

“I’ll show myself out them. Have a safe flight. May the Force be with you.”

“May the Force be with you.”

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“She didn’t seem happy,” Opela told the other Revanchists of her encounter with Master Atris upon bringing the Sith Holocron to the Jedi Temple. “She said that if we continued, we wouldn’t be Jedi any longer…”

The group was gathered about the Stalwart Nightingale attempting to decide their next course of action. The Council had anticipated that the group would stop once they returned to Coruscant, but the Revanchists had other plans. They had a cause, and Flashpoint had only served to strengthen their resolve. There were undeniable atrocities being committed in this war, and it was up to them to put an end to them.

There were murmurs among the group at Opela’s words, but the Revanchist seemed more certain than before. Her blue grey eyes burned with a defiant determination. It had become more than just a war to help the Republic defeat the Mandalorians. It had become a war to win over the Jedi Council—to re-define what it meant to be Jedi.

“If we stop now,” the Revanchist began, “then everything we have strived for until this point will be lost. Deaths will have been in vain. Sacrifices will have been for naught. We cannot allow their fear to control our actions. You saw the way that they reacted upon our return. You heard all that they had assumed. Are we to allow their ignorance to determine who we are and what we stand for?”

“I agree with the Revanchist,” Malak said. “I say we press onward.”

“Any opposed?” the Revanchist asked. She looked around the others. There was concern clearly in many of their eyes… but no one dared to speak up. Whether it was because they agreed or because they were afraid to be thought of traitors to the cause was unknown. After all, the last mission they had gone on had been quite gruesome. It was only likely to go downhill from there.

“It is settled then. We continue as planned. Ferroh? You had mentioned you had lost contact with your people on your home planet? That Cathar was one of the first planets attacked at the beginning of the Mandalorian crusades?”

The Cathar hesitated. “Yes… The Mandalorians had never forgiven my people for defeating them in the Great Sith War… After all, the Cathar are a proud warrior race, but our planet is not within the Republic… I’m afraid that no one knows for certain what happened on-planet though. The only ones left of my people that I’ve been able to make contact with are all refugees, scattered on different worlds…”

“I see… Malak, what is the latest update on the Mandalorian front?”

“The Republic is still trying to hold the defense between The front and Taris… It looks as if Admiral Karath is planning to mount a defense at the planet Serrocco to buffer against the Mandalorian advancement.”

“Then we divide our forces,” the Revanchist said. One group will head to Serrocco to make contact with and aid the Republic military there. We will not wait for the battle to clear and risk another ambush unprepared from leftover soldiers… The other group will follow me to Cathar to investigate what remains. If Cathar was the start of this war, perhaps we can find some clue there as to the Mandalorians’ goal and how to stop them.”

“I would like to volunteer to lead the group to Serrocco,” Opela stated. The Revanchist regarded her with confusion. Only weeks before, when they had been headed to Deralia, she had been hesitant to accept any positions of leadership… and yet now she had volunteered on her own accord?

“Why the sudden change in heart?” the Revanchist asked her.

“If we’re meeting the Republic military leaders, then you’ll need someone who can deal with the diplomatic aspects of the situation. Negotiation is a strong point of mine. If we’re acting against the Council’s orders, then it will take negotiation to convince the Republic to accept our aid.”

A small smile crept to the Revanchist’s lips. It was good to see Opela finally taking some initiative. “Very well then, Lieutennant Moraf. I leave the Serrocco company in your care. Fiolli, Nisotsa, Tavlon and Xaset—you will join her. The rest of you are with me. Serrocco Company will take the Williwaw and Cathar the Nightingale. If there are any complications, you report back immediately to your commanding officer. Do I make myself clear?”

There was a bought of ‘ayes’ from the group. Things were taking shape again. Things would be better off this time around. She could sense that much. Perhaps this would finally be the turning point for the Revanchists.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter contains multiple depictions of mass genocide, weapons of mass destruction, graphic violence and mutilation, and psychological torture. Reader discretion is advised.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: SERROCCO & THE CATHAR MASSACRE (Part 4 of a lot)

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While the battle had yet to start, the situation on Serrocco was far worse than Opela had initially anticipated. She couldn’t say that she agreed at all with the Republic’s decision of Tactics in the matter. They had chosen to place their surface-side outposts and camps near the cities of the native Stareb species. Their reasoning was that they assumed the Mandalorians would not want to possibly destroy anything that could be valuable for looting after the battle.

Opela could not follow this logic. After all, the Mandalorians were not space pirates. In her opinion, all conflict should have been kept away from both the Stareb cities and human settlements alike. It was selfish for either side to knowingly place innocents in danger because of their fighting. What was the point in conquering a planet if there was nothing left by the end of it to be conquered?

Opela sat aboard the Williwaw, waiting for a reply to her transition for a request of audience with Admiral Karath of the Republic Navy. He was the one who was in charge of the Republic’s fleet in this sector, ad so any and all negotiations would have to ultimately pass through him if they were to be of any consequence. So far, there had been no such luck.

The woman let out a frustrated sigh, debating whether she should take a break from waiting in order to check out the camp. She was quite curious to see what a Republic military camp would look like up close. This transmission was important though. She couldn’t risk missing it.

Finally, a sound came over the communicator. “This is Darrick Kilvaari, communications aboard the Courageous. We’ve received a transmission request from you, Williwaw, over?”

“Yes, Courageous. This is Lieutenant Opela Moraf, Jedi Knight, representing the Revanchists. I wish to speak with Admiral Saul Karath, over.”

“The Admiral is busy with preparations for the battle I’m afraid…”

“Tell him that the Revanchists are looking to aid the Republic in any way possible during their fight. I have both healers and combat specialists aboard. We are ready to provide Jedi support immediately if permitted to do so, over.”

There was a short pause on the line followed by: “Please stand by, Williwaw. We’re contacting Admiral Karath now, over.”

The silence resumed and the anticipation that came with it caused the absence of sound to become deafening. So much of their mission relied on being able to cooperate with the Republic military forces. This meeting was important for them. It was important that it be successful. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of waiting, Darrick Kilvaari returned over transmission.

“Admiral Karath is heading planetside. He’s agreed to meet you at one of the army commissaries in four standard hours. Name is Little Bivoli, over.”

Opela breathed a sigh of relief. Finally there was some progress. “Got it. Tell the Admiral I’ll be there. Thank you so much, Kilvaari, over.”

Finally, she could afford to step away from the communications consol. She would have to prepare for her meeting with the Admiral. She changed into fresh robes, checked her general appearance, and then set out. After all, it would reflect poorly if she were late, and should she miss the Admiral, there would perhaps not be a second chance to make the Revanchists’ appeal…

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When the time came, Opela Moraf went out to the commissaries ship known as the Little Bivoli. The place was rather a bustle. It seemed to be quite popular with both the soldiers and locals alike. So much so that Opela began to wonder whether it would even be possible to get a table at the place. Beyond that, she had never met the Admiral before, and so she wasn’t exactly certain what he looked like. With this many people around, it might prove difficult to actually find him. That was, at least, until she heard a commotion coming from the area around one of the far tables.

“You’re lucky you’re a finger, boy! On the Courageous, the Admiral would space you for that!”

It seemed that the Admiral was already here. Opela acted quickly. After all, she did not want to miss him. She headed to the location of the commotion and found the Admiral walking away from the situation to his own table with a rather stern look on his face. She approached him.

“Admiral Karath, I take it?” she asked him.

“I am he. And who might you be?”

“My name is Opela Moraf. I am a Jedi Knight and lieutenant with the Revanchists. I was in contact with the Courageous earlier and they informed me that I should meet you here in order to discuss future negotiations between the Revanchists and the Republic military…” She reached a hand out to shake his.

“Ah yes, Lieutenant Moraf. Welcome. Please pull up a seat. Tell me more about your proposal,” he said, accepting her handshake.

While certainly official in his proceedings, the Admiral seemed amicable enough. Following his gesture, the Jedi Knight sat at the table. “Well,” Opela began, “I fear I must begin with a disclaimer…”

“Oh? And what sort of a disclaimer is that?”

“Our movement of the Revanchists is not sanctioned by the Jedi Council. I must inform you that we are acting on our own. However, I assure you that, even so, our intentions lie purely in the protection of the Republic and its people…”

The Admiral groaned and Opela could not help but to be put back by his reaction. “Great,” he said. “The last thing I need is to be dealing with more rogue Jedi…”

More? The statement caused the woman some confusion. Had other Jedi approached him with similar proposals previously? And if so, why had the Revanchists not heard of them until now? “I beg your pardon?”

“Recently I’ve had to deal with a troublesome Padawan who turned and killed his classmates. I was bringing him in to the Council when the ship was ambushed and he escaped. I’m sure you’ve heard the news recently….”

“Not really,” Opela admitted. “Our investigations haven’t left much time for keeping up with anything outside of the war. I find it difficult to believe that such a thing could happen though. Jedi are pacifists by nature….”

“And yet here we are, discussing your involvement with my company during the war.” And with this, he gave a laugh. “It seems rather ironic, don’t you think, that you of all people should be lecturing me about the peaceful nature of the Jedi. As much as the support would come in handy, I’m not going to risk the Republic’s relationship with the Jedi Order just to satisfy the desire for combat of a few young Knights.”

“But you yourself admit that the Republic needs Jedi support…”

“Even as an Admiral, there’s only so much I’m sanctioned to make decisions about when it comes to the finer political points of this war.”

“You mean like how close your troops are setting up to the Stareb cities,” the woman said, turning her focus to the stone spires only a couple of miles away.

The Admiral grew red in the face, slamming his hand on the table before standing up. “Look, Lieutenant, guys down here are army. My business,” he said, pointing upward, “is up there with the naval positions. I don’t choose the placements of ground troops, and I don’t question the authority of those who do. Now I suggest you show yourself out of this camp before I decide to call up your Council and tell them all about this.”

Opela inhaled deeply, being careful not to allow the Admiral to intimidate her, and stood as calmly as she could. “That will not be necessary,” she said. “I thank you for your agreeing to meet me. If you will not accept our aid here, then we will find alternative means of supporting our cause. Goodbye, Admiral Karath. May the Force be with you and with your fleet. I shall leave you to conduct your battle strategies as you see fit.”

If there was nothing that could be done in conjunction with the troops directly, than perhaps it would be best for them to re-focus their efforts toward protecting the Stareb cities, or to assisting injured left on the battlefield once the fighting commenced. Sure it wasn’t the sort of involvement that there had initially been hoping for, but at least it was something they could do that might make a difference in the battle, however small that difference might be.

><><><><><

Opela Moraf returned to the Williwaw with a report of her meeting with the Admiral. She sent a transmission to the Stalwart Nightingale, explaining to the Cathar company their lack of success thus far. It was a frustrating time just getting the Revanchists to be recognized in the war. The Republic respected the Jedi Council, and largely depended on their support. Unfortunately, it would take more for them to be willing to risk upsetting them…

The day was a rather frustrating one. The Serrocco Company was forced to remain apart from the military camps. Instead, they split up, making their way to different camps across the planet’s surface, each one positioned near a different Stareb City… They did what they could in subtlety to encourage the troops to move their positions, but no one was willing to risk the consequences of disobeying orders from the higher-ups in the chain of command, and after the conversation that Opela had had with Admiral Karath, a warning had been issued to avoid Jedi scouts trying to become involved in the war effort. Needless to say, the military was not very cooperative.

The Starebs themselves were no more receptive of the warnings. Gullible as they were, they did not seem to believe that, without the warning sirens going off, there was no reason to consider evacuation. It seemed as though everything the Serrocco Company tried was a wasted effort.

According to the soldiers they had been able to speak to, the Mandalorians were expected to drop within the next day. Time was of the essence.

It was around sunset when the thing finally happened. Warnings began to sound. The dark shapes of ships in the atmosphere above increased. Flashes of light began to appear in the sky. It was happening. It was happening all so quickly… The Mandalorians had arrived!

><><><><><

   Cathar was a lush planet, thick with vegetation and non-sentient species. It was strange that somewhere so seemingly teeming with life should feel so very void. Even the abandoned buildings were alive, carved directly into the great ‘city-trees’ as Ferroh said they were called. It was all so beautiful, yet so morbid. So alive… and yet so dead.

   The Revanchists searched through every empty hall, down every winding road, in every abandoned tent and hut… and found nothing. Nothing but silence—an eerie and unnatural silence.

   “It’s just as it was when I last visited… it appears as though everyone has simply vanished,” Ferroh stated.

   The Revanchist pulled her cloak around herself in order to better keep the native insects away. This place made her uneasy. The Force felt strange here. In the cities, there was no sign of life… but also no sign of death. No sign of battle, or conflict… Nothing! No clue as to what could have possibly happened to the Cathar people. It was as if someone had deliberately washed away any trace of its history.

   It was their intention to extend their search beyond the cities when they all felt it. All at once, billions of voices crying out in horror…

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It was a planet of mostly dessert landscapes, tall stone spires stretching toward the orange sunset. It was all so beautiful… Like dancing flames, their light reflecting off the glassy mirror of sand. All was calm, all was still. Lights began to appear in the sky. More and more until…

Honor… Without honor, let them burn! Let all of them burn! Let Serrocco burn!

   All at once, the lights in the sky grew closer, larger, until everything was consumed in one brilliant flash. Suddenly the flaming orange of the sky engulfed the entire surface, burning wildly out of control. Screams of children pierced her ears so sharply that she thought her eardrums would surely burst. Pieces of stone mingled with blood and limbs flew in every which direction, the great stone cities crumbling into mere ruins of glass and sand.

   And through all of it, slipping through like an oil, oozing over the flames and feeding their destruction, a laughter began to resonate in that place. It was everywhere! Everywhere…

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   They all felt it. All at once, billions of voices crying out in horror… and then all being silenced at once.

   The Revanchist was bent over clutching her abdomen and seemingly wreathing in pain. The shock of the experienced vision coupled with the great disturbance that all of them had felt in the Force had caused her to vomit. Her entire body was trembling.

   Her apprentice seemed to notice the difference in her reaction compared to the others immediately, for he rushed to her side. Unable to help himself, her name sprung from his lips. “Halin—!”

   She was in too much of a state of shock to protest. She looked as though she could very well vomit a second time. She had grown quite pale, as if every ounce of blood had been drawn from her veins in an instant. Her eyes were wide and pupils dilated, silent tears flowing down her cheeks. All she could do was to repeat, almost incoherently: “I feel it… I feel it… I feel it….”

   Seeing that she was in no state to continue forward, Malak decided to take charge in her stead. He was sure that he wouldn’t hear the end of it from her later, but right now, they had all experienced great pain. They needed someone to direct them from there, and Halin Chan was in no condition to do it.

   “Cathar Company,” Malak said, addressing the group. “We need to return to the Stalwart Nightingale, now! We should make contact with the Williwaw and ask if Serrocco Company has sensed the same… If they’ve had any developments…”

   “Serrocco,” the Revanchist breathed. “I feel it… I feel it….”

   The company regarded their debilitated leader with concern. Malak glanced among them, trying to read their expressions. Halin was in a very vulnerable state. It had seemed she’d experienced another one of her visions, and if it had coincided with the great loss which all of them had felt, it could have very well accounted for her intensified reaction. His fear, however, was that it would be seen as a weakness in her leadership.

The movement was barely holding together as it was. After all, all that they had was their leader and their cause. Take away one of the two, and the whole structure would be left on the brink of collapse. Malak had determined that he would not allow for this to happen, even if it meant he had to take over himself. Protectively, he placed an arm around her as if to shield her from the threat of judgement, and encouraged her to rest her head on his side.

“What are you all waiting for?” he said, addressing the others with as much authority as he could muster. “I said move out. To the Nightingale!”

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter contains multiple depictions of mass genocide, weapons of mass destruction, graphic violence and mutilation, and psychological torture. Reader discretion is advised.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: SERROCCO & THE CATHAR MASSACRE (Part 5 of a lot)

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The meeting after Serrocco was a difficult one. Because they had been spread out attempting to assist the Starebs, many from the Serrocco company were not physically close enough to a transport to make it off-planet in time. Even so, Many ships had been grounded, unable to lift off before the nuclear warheads from the Mandalorian fleet had come raining in from above. It was unlikely anyone survived on the surface. Opela and Fiolli were close enough to the Williwaw that they were able to save themselves and the ship. Nisotsa and Xaset had made it off-planet, but with a group from the Republic army, and were being send back to Coruscant to face the Jedi Council for ‘attempting to interfere with Republic military activities.’ No one had heard word from Tavlon.

The war had only just begun and their numbers were thinning with each battle. The Revanchist sat with her head hung in her hands. Another… Another, and there was nothing that she could do to stop it. She felt powerless. She hadn’t even been able to command her own company during the occurrence. The shock of Serrocco and the vision of the attack had happened so suddenly that it was as if someone had bashed her over the head with a plasteel cylinder. If it hadn’t been for Malak, she wasn’t sure how she would have been able to even get back to the ship.

Opela approached the Revanchist and seated herself alongside her. She was unsure how she could console her friend in such a situation. The loss of another among their ranks had upset all of them greatly… “There was nothing you could have done….”

“But I could have…. I saw it happening… If only I could have seen it sooner, I could have stopped all of it… I could have saved Tavlon… I could have saved all of them…. If only I could learn control….”

“Tavlon died a hero. He died trying to protect innocent lives… He was a true Revanchist.”

A silence passed. Opela placed her hand on the other woman’s back as if to comfort her.

“Malak told me about what happened on Cathar when Serrocco was destroyed…. He was worried—and still is. He cares very deeply for you, you know…”

“He is my closest friend,” the Revanchist replied simply. “I don’t know what I would do without him sometimes. It’s like we’re two sides of the same coin.”

Opela smiled at this response. She was glad that the other was finally beginning to see the connection between the two of them. She hoped that, for Malak’s sake, the Revanchist would come to realize on her own the way in which he felt about her. Even if it were nothing more than a mutual understanding, at least he wouldn’t have to hide it any more.

After the groups had rejoined following the investigations on Cathar and on Serrocco, Malak had approached Opela again about the situation of his special ‘bond’ with Halin. He’d been increasingly worried for her lately, particularly because of a series of ‘visions’ she had been having. Lately, they had seemed to grow more and more intense, completely incapacitating her at times, as the one had at the time of Serrocco.

It was Serrocco which had forced Malak to take action. He’d had to assume command over the Cathar Company when it had happened and practically carry Halin back to the ship she was so incoherent. He constantly felt her distress and pain since they had left from Dantooine several months prior, and it bothered him. While Halin was the sort of charismatic idealist that took to inspire people to follow, whatever shadow of darkness was threatening her had stifled her capacity for leadership. He was concerned as to whether the pressure of being the ‘Revanchist’ was what was causing her deteriorating mental stability. He knew he couldn’t convince her to stop, but he thought that perhaps he could at least convince her to share more of the responsibility.

He had hoped that, with his and Opela’s combined persuasion, he could convince her to allow them to handle much of the effort in her stead. So far, there had been no luck, but the fact that she was still weakened from Serrocco had only increased the necessity.

“You certainly are,” Opela said to the Revanchist’s comment about herself and Malak. “You know, he’s only trying to help you… Maybe you should let him…”

The Revanchist simply shook her head. “I can’t ask that of him… He’s always been so shy around others when I wasn’t there, and I don’t think he’s fully forgiven me for what happened on Flashpoint… I couldn’t put him into that sort of a situation again. It makes him uncomfortable…”

“I think seeing you like this makes him feel even worse…”

The Revanchist sighed. “There’s just no winning either way, is there?”

“At least until you’ve recovered… Give him a chance. He might just surprise you.”

Opela watched her companion, waiting to see how she would react. It was what was best for all of them… she only hoped that the other would see it that way.

“I suppose… but just until I’m well again… You know, I’d hoped for his sake we would have been able to join the Republic in combat by now. It’s where he truly shines…”

“There will be a time,” Opela said, patting the Revanchist on the back. “It’s a big war, and there’s a role for everyone to help. Try to rest. We need you battle-ready when the time comes… It would make Malak feel better.”

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter contains multiple depictions of mass genocide, weapons of mass destruction, graphic violence and mutilation, and psychological torture. Reader discretion is advised.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: SERROCCO & THE CATHAR MASSACRE (Part 6 of a lot)

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The news channels were all abuzz in the Republic and across the entirety of the Outer Rim Territories. Taris had finally fallen under siege from the Mandalorians, and it didn’t look as though the Republic were going to be able to repel them. All of the Jedi had been recently pulled from Taris by the Jedi High Council following a recent tragedy with the deaths of several of the Padawans there, presumably by one of their own, so there were none to aid on-surface when the invasion came. This happening so soon after the destruction of Serrocco had made it a dark time for everyone.

The Republic was growing desperate for a way to defeat Mandalore the Ultimate’s growing army of Mandalorian neo-crusaders. Likewise, the Revanchists were growing desperate to find a means to be able to officially enter the war. It seemed as though their entire effort thus far had been running from shadow to shadow trying to do what they could, but not be caught doing it.

“Halin?” Malak said gently, tapping on the doorway to the chamber in which the Revanchist had been meditating. “There’s someone on the Communicator… says they want to speak to you directly…”

It was then that he noticed how pale she was. Sweat was pouring from her temples. Her body was stiff and she didn’t seem to be breathing. Not again…. Swiftly, he went to her, kneeling down and taking her hands. They were like ice. “Halin! Halin, you need to snap out of it! Focus on my voice. Open your eyes… Dammit, Halin, open your eyes!”

Finally, her eyes flew open and she gasped for air. Malak gave a sigh of relief. It must have been another vision. He didn’t like how frequent they were growing, and they were taking a toll on her both physically and mentally. He wasn’t sure how much longer she would last if this kept up… When she had decided to first set out, she seemed to have attracted the attention of some sort of dark power. Slowly, whatever it was that she had awakened was trying to take hold of her.

“Calm down,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close, as he had when he had seen her on Dantooine the night that she had decided to leave. “What did you see?”

“Space,” she said, softly. “I saw space…”

“And what else was there?”

“Asteroids…. Debris…. And strange creatures….”

“Creatures? What sort of creatures?”

“I…. I don’t know…. I had never seen anything like them before…. It was like some sort of an eel, or a snake…. But they were massive! And they lived in open space… They filled me with a sort of dread, though I wasn’t sure why at first. They had seemed to be asleep…. But then, there was a light…”

“A light?”

“Yes… It looked like… Like some sort of a dying star…. And when the creatures felt the light, they began to awaken…. And when they did… When they did, they began to feed… They consumed everything… everything in sight…. And then…. And then they traveled further… deeper into space. They were approaching systems… systems I recognized… Inhabited systems with billions of people…”

It was at this point that he could hear tears threatening to fall from the way that her voice broke. He held her tighter. “Shhhh…. Did you hear the voice again?”

“Yes… It started when they approached the system, but you broke my trance before I could make out what it was saying….”

Malak was somewhat relieved that he had come when he did. Who knew how much worse it would have been had the vision continued… It seemed to him that this voice was the thing that truly terrified Halin, even more so than the visions themselves…

“I’ll tell the person calling that you’re unable to respond at the moment…”

“No…. No, if they’re trying to speak to me directly, then maybe it’s important. Maybe it will finally be something to turn things around for all of us…”

“You’re in no condition to receive calls right now. You look like death…”

“They don’t have to see me,” she protested, pushing her way out of his arms. “I’ll wear my cloak and over holovid they won’t notice a thing!”

Malak sighed. He’d wished she would have stayed like that a little bit longer, there in his arms. These were stressful times and having her so close made him feel a little better. He hoped that he made her feel just as safe as she had made him feel.

He watched her pull herself up. Her legs shook at first, like a newborn animal that was trying to stand for the first time, and so he put his arms out to catch her in case she were to fall, but she managed to stabilize herself on her own. She pulled her cloak from where she had lain it and put it on, pulling its billowing hood over her head. Neither her face nor frame were visible when she was like this. She was like some sort of specter of a figure, ambiguous, yet unquestionably authoritative in appearance.

“Come, Malak,” she said. “Put me through with the caller… did he give his name?”

She was already walking toward the communications array and so Malak was left with no choice but to follow. “He said he represents Lord Adasca of Arkania, and says he has a proposal for you, but that he could only present it to the Revanchist leader directly…”

What he didn’t tell her was that he had claimed that he was the Revanchist when the call had come through, but that his lie had not been believed. He’d hoped to save her from the trouble by doing so, but the ruse was seen through immediately. Apparently the caller had anticipated that the Revanchist would not be so easy to reach, and suspected the falsehood when he’d first answered.

The Revanchist sat in the seat at the communications array and pushed the button to accept the call that had been on hold. A hologram of a Duros Male flashed before her. “Ah, greeting, Revanchist Leader. I’m so happy that you have decided to accept my call,” he said upon seeing her cloaked figure. “My name is Eejee, and I’m calling on behalf of Lord Adasca of Arkania.”

“So I’ve been told,” the Revanchist replied. “I’ve heard that he has some sort of a proposal for me?”

“Yes,” the Duros replied. “He insisted that I only give the invitation to you directly.”

“A bold request, given that he has chosen not to call me himself.”

“The Lord apologizes, but he has been busy entertaining a special guest as of late, and has had little time, so as his secretary I’ve been keeping up with his business work as able.”

“What sort of an invitation is this?”

“To view a new weapon that has been in development.”

Halin further paled under her hood. A new weapon… The timing of it all… It must have had something to do with what she had seen in her recent vision.

“And just what sort of a weapon is this?” she managed.

“I’m sending over files with the details now. It’s quite an interesting thing, really… You see, Lord Adasca wants to be certain his project does not fall into the wrong hands… He’s asked me to contact specific groups who he think might be responsible enough to control such a thing.”

“I see… and who else has he contacted about this?”

“Now now, that information I am not at liberty to disclose freely. If you wish to see, then I suggest that you consider meeting us in the Omonoth system in five days time aboard Lord Adasca’s flagship, the Arkanian Legacy. We look forward to meeting you in person, Revanchist.”

The transmission ended and data was displayed from what the Duros Eejee had sent about the weapon in question. Halin removed her hood so she could more clearly view the information. Her apprentice could sense the disturbance in his friend and Master and moved closer to view the information with her. It was information on a species of large space-dwelling beasts called ‘Exogorths.’

“It’s just as it was in my vision…. I have to go,” she said, standing.”

“Halin, you can’t. You’re still recovering…”

“I told you what I saw, Malak! If those things are there as he says, and if someone were to release them into an inhabited system…” She stopped. She couldn’t bear to think of the results that might come from such a thing. “I have to go…”

“No you don’t,” Malak said firmly. “You’re staying put—I’ll go!”

“Malak, don’t be ridiculous. You heard already. Lord Adasca is only willing to deal with me directly…”

“He sent his secretary to call us. I say we return the favor. I’ll say you were busy with other matters and sent me in your place.”

“It’s too risky. If we fail…”

“It’s too risky for you to go on your own! Send me on the Williwaw with Fiolli to pilot. We don’t need a large group for the task.”

“Malak, no! My decision is final!”

“Any chance I could bribe you?”

The woman gave him a look of disbelief. “Bribe me? Malak, you can’t be serious. We’re not kids anymore and this isn’t any time to be playing around! Now as your commanding officer and as your Master, I am telling you no!”

“And as your friend I am telling you that I won’t let you go running off again when you’re too weak to fight back if something goes wrong.”

“I can fight just fine if I have to. As I recall, the last time we sparred I had you bested after only a few minutes.”

“The last time we sparred,” he said, growing rather exasperated with her persistence, “you weren’t barely coherent from the after-effects of your visions! You’re not going!”

“Just watch me!”

“Halin, don’t make me do something we’ll both regret…”

The woman laughed. “Are you threatening me?”

“No,” he said, using the Force to pull her closer to him and swiftly applying pressure to a point on her neck, rendering the woman instantly unconscious. “I’m making you a promise.”

He set her back into the communications array chair and downloaded the data from the Consul regarding the information from Lord Adasca. He knew he would be in for an earful when she woke up, but it was for her own good. He would go to the Arkanian Legacy and see exactly what this proposal from Lord Adasca was all about…

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The Williwaw was regrouping with the Stalwart Nightingale after Malak’s meeting with Lord Adasca on the Arkanian Legacy. Things certainly hadn’t turned out the way that anyone had expected during the deal. To Malak’s surprise, the other parties invited by Lord Adasca included not only the Republic Military’s Admiral Karath, but Madalore the Ultimate himself! As expected, things went very much awry…

However, as badly as the situation there had turned out, what Malak was dreading even more was his return. He’d not spoken to Halin since leaving on the mission, and given the circumstances of his departure, he couldn’t imagine that she would be very happy to see him again. Whatever he had imagined couldn’t have possibly prepared him for the sort of welcome which he received.

The fire in her eyes when he saw her was unlike any which he had seen in her before. And despite their obvious difference in size, he could not help but to feel intimidated. She marched straight up to him and slapped him across the face.

“Ack!” Malak exclaimed, rubbing his cheek. It would seem as though she had finally recovered from the Serrocco vision. “What was that for!?”

“For being a disrespectful nerf-herder!”

“I missed you too,” he muttered.

“You know, in a real military setting, a stunt like that would have you spaced!”

Malak rolled his eyes. “Guess I should feel lucky I have such a benevolent Master then… Are you feeling better now?”

She turned away. “You know, I would have been fine, going on my own…”

Malak sighed, “Somehow I doubt that, Halin… I’m almost surprised I’m even back myself after how things went there. Mandalore himself was there.”

With this, Halin’s eyes widened and she swiftly turned back to him, practically lunging at him as she grabbed the utility belt suspenders of his body suit and pulled his face closer to hers so as she could look him in the eye.

“Mandalore the Ultimate!?”

“Yes,” he said, slightly dazed by the ferocity of her reaction. “Lord Adasca called him there under a flag of truce. Apparently he wanted to see who would offer him the best price for the weapon that he’d been able to develop.”

Halin paled and let go of him. If Mandalore were to get hold of such a thing…

“Please tell me….” She stopped, afraid to finish her thought.

“No… No, Mandalore doesn’t have it. No one does. One of the scientists responsible for its development seemed to have a higher moral ground than the rest of the bastards involved… Sacrificed himself playing hero by baiting the creatures away to some part of the unknown regions,”

Halin breathed a sigh of relief. “I suppose things turned out for the better then… Whoever the scientist was, he’s saved more lives than he probably could have imagined… It’s a shame we never got to meet him… He will be remembered though as a hero of the Republic…”

Malak nodded. “I didn’t come back empty-handed though.”

“Oh?” she said, raising an eyebrow.

Malak pulled something out of a bag that he had been carrying with him and tossed it to Halin. “Catch,” he said.

She caught the thing, which was a rust red colored droid head of some sort.

“Lord Adasca had several of the things aboard the Arkanian Legacy and they attacked us at some point. They resembled the model I found you schematics for a couple years back, and so I thought you might be interested. Consider it an apology present.”

Halin examined the droid head. The memory core still seemed to be intact. With such a thing, she could probably study the droid enough to replicate one should she choose. The war was growing more and more complex with every passing day. Any advantage that they could gain would be for the better…

“Don’t think I’m letting you off the hook that easily,” she said to him, looking up from the droid head.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Master” he said, bowing to her in a mocking fashion.

Halin rolled her eyes. “All right, nerf-herder, you’re on probation. Any more stunts like that and I’ll have you spaced for real.”

Malak grinned. He liked it when she was spirited like this. It reminded him of how she had been before they had left to form the Revanchists. And even though she had claimed that Halin Chan was dead, for a while, it felt as though he had Halin back there beside him.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter contains multiple depictions of mass genocide, weapons of mass destruction, graphic violence and mutilation, and psychological torture. Reader discretion is advised. This Chapter contains quotes of dialogue from the Knights of the Old Republic comic series published by Dark Horse. I do not own this series.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: SERROCCO & THE CATHAR MASSACRE (Part 7--THE LAST PART!)

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“Let me through!” the Revanchist demanded, pushing her way past her apprentice in an attempt to get to the Communications Consul. “I want to speak to them myself!”

Malak grabbed her arms, dragging her backward. “Halin, don’t you think it would be best if Opela handled the situation…”

“I don’t care if it’s what’s best! Those fools have no right to make demands like this!”

“Whether you agree with them or not, they’re still the High Council.”

“Whether they’re the High Council or not they’re still a bunch of Gammorian-faced hypocrites!”

A call had come recently from Coruscant. It was the Jedi High Council contacting the Revanchists with a formal cease-and-desist order. After hearing about the Adasca Affair, they had decided that there was no place in Jedi dealing in arms deals for weapons of mass destruction. While they had turned the other cheek until this point, this was a situation which they felt that they could not ignore.

“Hundreds of Systems would have suffered the consequences had that situation gone any differently!” the woman continued in protest.

“I know that better than anyone!” the man replied. “I was there, after all!”

“What we are doing is right, and the Republic will fall without us!”

“Halin, please…”

“Don’t call me Halin! They’re the ones who killed Halin!” And with this, she let out a sob.

It was at this point that Opela approached them. She had finished the call with the Jedi Council and wore a somber expression on her face. It couldn’t have gone well…

“They won’t be swayed,” she said simply. “If we don’t go back, they’re going to have an arrest warrant issued for all of us… Honestly, I don’t see any way out of this…”

“No,” Halin said tearfully. “No, we can’t… Not now…. Not yet….”

“I’m sorry,” the other woman continued. “I did what I could… They say that, if we come willingly, there will be only minor suspensions for all of us…”

“No,” the Revanchist repeated, swallowing hard and managing to contain the rest of her tears. “No, we continue our course back to Cathar.”

“With all due respect, I don’t think that’s the wisest decision at this point…”

“There is something there that we missed, I can feel it! All we need is something! Some shred of a thing that will show to them the importance of the Jedi in the outcome of this war… If Cathar is where it all started, then Cathar will be our best option…”

“But with the communication having been open, it’s possible that they were able to track our signal and already know where we are headed. They could come after us themselves if they choose…”

“Then let them come! Let them come and let them see for themselves, but I will not be taken back and branded as a traitor for doing the right thing. Others have already given their lives for our cause. We cannot stop now…”

There was a moment of silence between all three. Either decision they made, there was much at stake. So much to be lost…

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The Revanchists made their way through the grassy planes and marshlands of the planet Cathar. After a vote among the crew, they had decided to press onward. While there was much for them to lost in continuing, there was also much to be gained. If, as the Revanchist had said, they were able to find something to justify their actions to the Council, then they would be forced to hide no longer! And if the Council approved, then others would help them! They would no longer have to hide from both sides. They would openly be able to help and fight alongside the Republic’s military forces. They had to at least try.

The cities of Cathar were just as they had left them before—eerily empty with no trace of life or death to be found. There were no battered or battle-scarred buildings or piles of rubble anywhere. It was all so very strange…

“Ferroh,” the Revanchist said, addressing the native Cathar within their company, “is there any place where your people might have fled to in the event of an emergency situation?”

“Maybe the beaches,” he replied, “but they wouldn’t have been able to stay for long if they did. Cathar people aren’t suited well for wet climates….”

“It’s worth at least checking out… Company, move out! We head for the shoreline. This could be our last chance to be able to find something to convince the Jedi Order to support our cause. We cannot fail!”

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   The sounds of waves could be heard in the near distance. It had been a two-day hike from where they landed to the nearest waterfront. They were weary, but hopeful. The Force resonated differently here than it had in the settlements. There was still some sort of residual energy from whatever had taken place years before. They could feel the moisture of sea spray in the air and quickened their pace. They were so close now—so close to discovering the truth about what had happened to the Cathar.

   They could see the beach now. There were faint traces of an attack here, but not much else as far as they were able to tell at this point. There were some small scattered debris, a few scraps of clothing and trinkets…

   “Halt right now, Revanchists! This crusade of yours has gone on long enough.”

   The company spun around and saw several Jedi Masters approaching them, many of whom here on the Jedi Council. It seemed as though Opela’s concern that they might have been tracking the communication was well-founded, for there they stood now, closing around the Revanchists.

   Halin began to tremble. No… No, not yet… We’re so close… We just need a little more time…

   “You don’t understand,” the Revanchist said to them. “It’s more clear now than ever that the Republic needs us…”

   “There is nothing warranting Jedi aid in another war!” said one of the Masters.

   “You are to abandon this childish cause of yours and disperse—forever!” stated another.

   “No!” the Revanchist protested. “No, I refuse!”

   It was Malak who stopped her before she could do something she would regret. He took hold of her wrist, preventing her from rushing toward the Masters. “Halin, don’t… We’ve done what we could. It’s time to go home now…”

   The Revanchist swallowed hard, collapsing to her knees defeatedly, her back hunched over. Her apprentice finally let go of her wrist. In her entire life, she had never felt so very empty… So defeated… She closed her eyes, letting her senses take in the flurry of stimuli around her—the presence of the Masters, the broken spirits of her comrades, the roar of the sea, the taste and smell of the salt…. These were the last moments that she would ever feel as the Revanchist…

   But when she opened her eyes, she saw something there before her, half buried in the sand. She wasn’t sure what it was that compelled her to pick the thing up, but the moment she did… the moment it hit the light… all began to change.

   From further up the hill, a stampede of Cathar began to run in their direction, seemingly running for their lives. Halin Chan quickly got to her feet and all of the Jedi there, both Master and Revanchist alike, quickly made way for the terrified crowd to pass through.

   It was then that they noticed what followed behind. A group of Mandalorians lead by Mandalore the Ultimate’s right-hand man, Cassus Fett, was shooting at the Cathar people, chasing them and driving them toward the sea. Swiftly, the Revanchists sprung to action, each drawing their blade and attempting to defend the poor Cathar from the Mandalorian onslaught.

   What was strange, however, was that none of their blows seemed to hit. It was as if none of the Cathar, nor any of the Mandalorians, seemed to notice the Jedi at all! However, it was very evident that every one of the Jedi there could see what was happening. Halin spun around observing their surroundings. This feeling… It was the same way she felt during the start of one of her visions…. But this time… This time everyone could see. It was a vision that all of them were sharing! But rather than a vision of the future, this was a vision of the past.

   Many of the Masters shouted out in protest, insisting that the attack on the Cathar people halt, but it was of no use. These were two separate times, and while the past could communicate with the present, there was no way for the present to communicate with the past. But while the present could not communicate with those in the past, perhaps one other from the past could.

   As the Mandalorian attackers began driving the Cathar deeper into the sea waters, one Mandalorian woman moved in front of Cassus Fett, blocking the path between the Mandalorians and the Cathar.

   “Cassus, wait,” the Mandalorian woman said. “They’re already defeated. There’s no need for us to do this…”

   But Cassus Fett would not be swayed. “The Cathar left a stain of dishonor on the Mando’ade,” he stated. “Today, I wash it clean in the waters of their own presumption. But, if you truly believe that they need a defender to stand with them, then do so!”

   And with this, he gave the signal. The Mandalorians, with their jetpacks, flew above the Cathar people and their lone defender and, in a swift and merciless act, opened fire, raining down an assault of terror and destruction from above.

   When the dust of the battle finally settled, the Mandalorians and the Cathar alike had all vanished. The Jedi stood stunned at what they had all just witnessed. It was at this point that Halin finally looked down at what was in her hand—what she had picked up just before the vision had begun. It was the mask of the unknown Mandalorian woman. The woman who alone stood up to Cassus Fett and swore to protect the Cathar people from needless slaughter.

   “They were beaten,” Halin murmured. “You didn’t have to do it… One of you knew, but the rest… the rest didn’t listen…”

   And with this, Halin brought the mask of the Mandalorian woman to her face. “I don’t know your name, but I will take up your cause… I will wear your mask until there is justice—until the Mandalorians have been defeated once and for all. So swears… Revan!”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: THE MERCY OF THE JEDI (Part 1 of Several [likely of 5])

For the first time since returning from Dxun, the woman stood before the Jedi Council. Once she had come here as Halin Chan, the promising Jedi Knight who wished to serve the Republic. Once she had come here as the Revanchist, who sought to turn the Council’s heads and make them realize their hypocrisy. But now, she was coming here for the first time as Revan. What Revan wanted… what Revan wanted was more than Halin or the Revanchist even realized was at stake.

The red and silver of the mask the woman wore contrasted sharply with the deep sapphire color of her robes, with both colors standing boldly against the black of her cloak. She appeared as some sort of a strange Jedi-Mandalorian hybrid there in the center of the Council Chamber. It was clear that some of the Council Members were intimidated by the fact that they could not see her face beneath the mask she wore. She would have been lying to herself if she denied the pleasure she felt at knowing that her presence there intimidated them. A certain degree of fear bred respect—a respect that the Council was used to being on the receiving end of, but not necessarily the opposite. It felt nice to have a shift in the tides for once.

However, Revan did notice a shift in some of the seats on the Council. Replacing Master Dorjander Kace on the Council was Lucian Draay, one of the Masters who had formerly been in charge of the Jedi Tower on Taris. She wondered as to what could be the reasoning for such a change, particularly at this time. Master Dorjander Kace had been one of the last left to have fought in the Great Sith War, and had been captured by the Mandalorians for a period of time. Dared she hope it was possible he resigned his position after voicing support for the Revanchists’ cause?

While the possibility did give her hope, it was irrelevant at the moment. In light of the shared vision on Cathar, which all of the Council had seen with their own eyes, Revan had come before them, once again, to ask for the Council’s support in the decision regarding Jedi aid for the Republic against the Mandalorians.

“I believe all of you already understand why I am here yet again,” Revan said as she addressed them. “You have all now witnessed with your own eyes the truth that I and that the Revanchists have known now for some time. You have all now witnessed the mass-genocide of an entire race from their home planet. You have all witnessed the atrocities of which the Mandalorians are capable of. With these things in mind, I ask you, once again, for the support of the Jedi Order to the Republic during this war.”

There was an uneasy silence in the room. Revan stood tall and with as much confidence as she was capable of displaying. If this had not changed their mind on the matter, then she did not know what would. Either way, she would not allow them to stop her. She would fight on her own if she had to. But if she could convince them finally to sanction the movement, then any Jedi would be free to join the Revanchists—free to fight for the protection of the Republic!

“We do share your concerns,” one Council members finally said, “However, things are a bit more complicated than us simply giving permission for you and your followers to run off into battle…”

“There are… political reasons. The reputation of the Jedi Order is also at stake here. We are not warriors, or soldiers. The Jedi are scholars, healers, teachers…”

“Many rash decisions can be made amidst the desperation caused by war. If such a decision were to be made by a Jedi, and it held negative repercussions, it is the Jedi Order as a whole that would be held responsible.”

“So what all of you are saying,” Revan put rather bluntly, “is that the possibility of negative repercussions on the reputation of the Order outweighs the countless lives that would be saved. Is that the excuse that you are making?”

“We’ve said no such thing!” Master Lemar stated in protest.

“That’s exactly what you’ve said though! You’re still not willing to let the Jedi aid, and yet you know how many people suffer as a result!” The woman was having none of their petty excuses. It needed to be now or never. If they waited too long, there would be no chance of helping.

“We didn’t say that we did not want to help them…”

“You want to, and yet you continue to make excuses not to.”

“We cannot sanction a military unit…”

Revan thought. Surely there must be some way around the stupid politics which surrounded the whole situation. The Council admitted now that they wanted to help… The only issue was getting them to overlook propriety and niceties long enough to take action and give their word.

“Surely there have been Jedi to help in past wars, even on a smaller scale, outside of the Great Sith Wars…?”

“Well,” one said, scratching his chin, “Occasionally they’ve joined one of the volunteer mercy corps as healers, but outside of that…. No, no, I can’t think of any specific cases…”

Revan’s heart leapt in her breast. A Jedi Mercy Coprs… Maybe there was a chance after all…

“Has the Jedi Council ever denied a Jedi’s request to join such a mercy corps?” Revan asked the Council. The Council was somewhat confused by her question, but they did choose to humor her with an answer:

“A request to join the mercy corps has never been denied, no. During times of great destruction, there is always need for healers to take away the pain. It would be immoral for us to deny such a request…”

“Then I ask the Council for permission for the Revanchists to join the Republic Mercy Corps.”

The Masters glanced among the order. ‘Halin’ had never been much of a talent for healing. Her marks in the area were acceptable, but nothing beyond the basics. And while there were several talented healers among them, such as Opela and Fiolli, and even Ferroh to a lesser degree… the majority of the Revanchists were not primarily healers. No, no, they suspected that there must have been some sort of an ulterior motive behind Revan’s request.

They hesitated to respond. She had put them into a position of great conflict. While they strongly suspected that the nature of the Mercy Corps missions were not her primary intention… to deny the quest would go directly against their own morals. Halin had always been a clever girl, but Revan’s psychoanalysis of the situation was beginning to border on manipulation. Either they denied her request and proved to the onlooking galaxy Revan’s views of their hypocrisy… or they granted it at the risk of her overstepping those boundaries…

Master Vrook Lamar regarded the woman who called herself Revan with an expression of concern combined with admiration on his face. He’d always been warry of her rebellious nature when she was training at the Academy on Dantooine, but these current issues… they were different than the one’s he’d faced with her then. He knew that there was no alternative to granting her request. As they told her, a Jedi had never been denied the ability to serve on the Mercy Corps. However, he remained warry. He knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t change her mind about the Mandalorians. ‘Justice’ was the word she had used on Cathar upon taking up the mask which she wore now. However, Master Vrook understood from observing Jedi during the Great Sith War that all too often ‘Justice’ was confused with ‘Revenge.’

“The Jedi Council grants your request, Revan, to join the Republic Mercy Corps.”

Much to the woman’s surprise, it was Master Vrook Lamar who finally dared to speak up on the Council’s behalf. She could tell from his expression that he did not trust her, but respected him for realizing that he knew he could not deny her. However, he continued.

“We do, however, have conditions to granting you this permission.”

She knew it. She knew that there had to be some sort of catch to this.

“And pray tell what those conditions might be, Master Lemar?”

“You are to accept no more Padawans into the Revanchists. Any Padawans who have already joined you are to return to their Masters at once. You are also required to be under the command of a Republic officer during any and all missions under the banner of the Mercy Corps. And our final condition is that any major decisions involving Jedi activity in the Republic war effort, even under the banner of the Mercy Corps, must be brought before the Council first for approval.”

Revan thought about this proposal. It would mean that Nisotsa would be unable to return to them, and that Fiolli would have to leave. It would be a shame about Fiolli, since she was the best healer and pilot among them. But if they had a Republic escort now, there would be no necessity for pilots. These were losses she could manage. In regard to the second issue, it would be a matter of ensuring that the Republic officer in charge was sympathetic to their case, which was nothing beyond a bit of persuasion…. But the last clause… the last one was what made things tricky. The last one risked the effort being dragged to stalemate due to the sticky backwards nature of Jedi politics.

“May I ask what it is I’ve done to breed such distrust among you?” Revan asked the Council. “I have killed no one during this war, and neither have any of the others.” That is, as far as she was aware. True, Hazar had died because of her naïveté, and she’s nearly killed Demagol while trying to resist the Sith holocron when it was onboard…. But her hands remained clean of blood thus far. Though she’d never gotten all of the details from Malak about what happened aboard the Arkanian Legacy… She was still sour about the situation leading up to it, and so she tried to avoid bringing it up. Though perhaps… “And you cannot think that we would choose to deal in potentially system-devastating weapons. That’s simply ridiculous.”

“That’s not what the report from Admiral Karath states,” one Council member stated.

Ah, that’s right…. Malak did mention that he was there…

“And what did the reports say? I was not there. I wouldn’t know.”

“You weren’t there?”

“No. I was….” She searched her mind for the correct words to phrase what had happened. “Incapacitated,” was what she came up with. “Malak went in my stead.”

“We should have expected such,” Master Atris nearly hissed. “Sending your comrades in your place when the situation turns dangerous!”

Revan could feel her temples boiling beneath her mask. Her core felt unusually hot and seemingly burning from within. Her hands trembled. She couldn’t place what it was that she felt in that moment. It was so intense she had to mentally brace herself.

There is no emotion… There is no emotion…

But she could only brace herself against so much. “I never sent Malak on such an errand,” she said through her teeth. “In fact, I specifically ordered him not to go. He left for Lord Adasca’s flagship without my knowledge or permission.”

She leered at Master Atris from beneath her mask. The visibility from the visor was surprisingly good, considering the fact that no one could see in from the outside. She should have suspected so much though. After all, Mandalorians were warriors, and good visibility was necessity when in the heat of combat, particularly for those unattuned to the Force.

The air was stiff, yet full of electricity, as if a great storm were brewing. Everyone present knew it. Everyone present felt it. The tension was high. Revan continued.

“I’ve done everything within my power to keep every member of this company safe, and while I deeply regret that there are those I have failed at protecting, to even suggest that I would do such a thing is simply beyond despicable! I care very deeply for Malak; I will not hide this. I would never knowingly place him in danger. I sent him to Suurja with the expectation that fighting had ceased and there was no military presence left from either side. And after the nameless tortures which he endured as a result, I have regretted it ever since. I tended to his wounds myself. His pain was my pain, and I felt dead knowing that I could have prevented it all…”

Her voice had become progressively choked with tears. Her words were genuine. Even the Council could not deny that. No one knew the words to respond to this. Even the Jedi were not so void of emotion that they could not understand remorse and pity.

Revan swallowed. She was becoming distracted. She could not risk this. She needed to focus on the goal at hand. “I accept the Council’s conditions,” she managed with what strength left to her voice that she could muster. “I do not know what you have heard of the Battle at Omonoth, or of the Arkanian Legacy, and perhaps you know more of what happened there than I know myself… and while I do not agree with Malak in his decision to undermine me and go on his own, I do trust him. I trust that he would not have done anything to mar the name of the Jedi. You trust him too—that much I can sense from all of you. What I don’t comprehend is why you distrust me.”

><><><><><

Malak approached Revan as she exited the Council Chamber. He tried to catch her eye as she moved, but her hood was up and her mask downcast, as if deliberately trying to avoid eye contact with the world. The mask was like a shield. It did not let others in, and it did not let her expressions out.

He had been listening behind the door the entire time. He’d heard her conversation about the Mercy Corps… and about him. There was so much he needed to ask her about…

“Revan?” he said, calling to her softly. He humored her with the new name she had chosen. He had to admit that he did prefer it to the Revanchist. It seemed more like a name than a title, a bit more humanizing in that sense. It was also much easier to say. While he hated to admit it, a part of him never wanted to call her the Revanchist because it made him feel stupid trying to pronounce it correctly as he struggled to imitate her inflections in the Deralian tongue. But the main reason why he preferred Revan was in the context of her choice. The Revanchist was bred from the death of innocence—the death of Halin. Revan was bred from the determination of justice.

Justice….

That was the word she had used before, in her attempt to explain to him what it meant to be Revanchist…. Yet it seemed to bear more poignancy as Revan. If a Revanchist was, as she had told him before, one who serves justice to the innocent, then Revan must have been justice itself.

The woman stopped, exhaling a sigh as she did so. Somehow her victory in obtaining the support of the Council didn’t feel like a victory at all.

“We did it,” she said, not turning to him. “The Revanchists are now officially serving as a ‘Jedi Mercy Corps.’ We are to meet with the Republic at the Embassy at planetary noon tomorrow.”

“Why do I sense that you are unhappy?” The question was more of a formality. He’d heard most of the conversation from outside.

“They’ve imposed conditions on our involvement even within the Mercy Corps,” Revan stated, resuming her previous pace. Malak followed at her side. “I don’t understand why it is that they still do not trust me…”

“They feel threatened by you, Rev,” he said, tasting the feeling of it in his mouth. It wasn’t entirely bad. There was a certain mellifluous feeling as it danced on his tongue, the fricative leaving a lingering vibration on his lips. His abbreviation of the name caused her to stop again in confusion. Malak had not been anticipating this, and found he had to turn back around to face her after having stepped too far ahead. Unsure if he had offended her, he quickly continued speaking, as if in an attempt to retract the thing. “They’re not used to having someone counteract their logic or point out their flaws. They are threatened by you because you think for yourself…”

The woman sighed. Malak half expected her to correct him of her newly chosen name, but she did no such thing. She was silent again. Malak wondered what his friend and Master was thinking. She had always been quite careful about her own mental blocks and was elusive to those who tried to read her. The mask only deepened the illusion, for her face was now unreadable as well…

Finally, he dared to ask her the question that was really on his mind after what he had heard: “I’m… dear to you?”

The mask looked up at him, and he wondered what expression shone in the blue-grey eyes which lie underneath. He reached out slowly, as if to lift the mask and meet her eyes beneath, but she raised a hand and turned her face away.

“I’ve said too much already… We should find the others. They should know about the shift in operations. Xaset Terep will be free to rejoin us also, should he choose. I’ll break the bad news to Fiolli personally. She has served with honor as a Revanchist…”

Revan continued walking.

‘She’s avoiding my question,’ Malak thought. It seemed to have struck a nerve with her, like whatever it was that she was refraining from telling him was something that she had yet to even fully admit to herself…

Maybe it was for the better though. There is no emotion, there is peace… It would only serve as a distraction from their mission. He decided to drop it for the moment. It would be best for everyone if they focused on the goal at hand.

><><><><><

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter contains mild sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: THE MERCY OF THE JEDI (Part 2 of several)

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Revan regarded the strange-looking man who had been there to meet them at the Republic embassy. Captain Telettoh had goldish-pinkish hair similar in color to the juice of cloudberries from Bakura, which he kept clipped very short in a typical military fashion. His nose and mouth were rather wide-set for a human male, and his eyes were difficult to distinguish beneath the sheen of his glasses. It made the woman wonder if he could even see at all, given their nearly opaque appearance. A blind military officer would have been laughable… except for the fact that he was in charge of the Mercy Corps. There was no combat he would need to see.

Revan sat alone with the Captain and with Malak in the Embassy. The other Revanchists were enjoying the moment of respite before the movement returned to the Outer Rim. Revan couldn’t say that she blamed them for wanting to do such. After all, there wasn’t much to see in the Rim right now other than war torn worlds and destruction… She had tried to convince Malak to do the same, but he refused to leave her, insisting that this was an important moment for their movement, and that he wanted to be a part of the conversation.

Despite his odd appearance, Revan found Captain Telettoh to be rather agreeable. She had learned from their conversation that there were, in fact, many military leaders among the Republic who had wanted involvement of the Jedi sooner.

Revan’s gaze was intense beneath her mask as she subtly probed the Captain’s mind while he was explaining the history of the Mercy Corps and their mission. She was trying to determine how receptive he would be to a change in tactics. While she was happy to finally be working in cooperation with the Republic directly, she needed to be certain that it wouldn’t cause additional political hoops she would be forced to jump through in order to make any sort of actual progress.

Her mind gently brushed against his, waiting to see if there would be any sort of a reaction. The Captain paused mid-sentence, scratching his head a moment as if he had lost his train of thought before he continued on. A small smile appeared on the masked woman’s lips. The man’s mind seemed susceptible enough. It was possible that this whole crazy plan might just work… Proceeding with caution, she went in further, slipping past his mind’s barriers.

There’s no reason for the Republic to limit the Jedi’s aid to them.

“There’s no reason for the Republic to limit the Jedi’s aid to them,” Captain Telettoh continued.

It would be a waste of available resources to use them only as healers

“It would be a waste of available resources to use them only as healers.”

Malak subtly glanced over at his companion with suspicion. He knew Jedi mind tricks when he saw them. He didn’t understand why she would even think of risking a thing like this now though. They’d only just gotten approval from the Council, and already she was risking them getting shut down by doing such a thing. He personally thought the act to be quite irresponsible, but he dared not speak up now, lest he risk her tactics being caught.

Revan continued.

There’s no need for you to tell the Jedi Council or the Republic media about our actions. All will remain in complete confidence.

“There’s no need for me to tell the Jedi Council or the Republic media about the Revanchists’ actions. All will remain in complete confidence, I assure you both.”

“Well then, Captain,” she said aloud, “I thank you for your trust in the matter. You have been most agreeable. We shall do our best not to disappoint the Republic.”

She stood, bowing politely in a gesture to take leave. “It has been a pleasure, Captain Telettoh.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Jedi Revan and Jedi Malak. I look forward to working alongside the Revanchists when our task force leaves Coruscant.”

The two groups parted ways. It was only after they had left the embassy that Malak dared to address Revan about what had happened in their meeting.

“What were you thinking!? What if something had gone wrong—”

“His mind was weak, susceptible,” Revan replied plainly. “It was not an uncalculated risk, I assure you. I had been testing the malleability of his consciousness ever since our arrival…”

“But why? Our meeting at all was already a step forward.”

“One step forward isn’t progression if it’s followed by two steps backward. We’ve been at this far too long already with nearly nothing to show for result. I will not have our next eight months be just as unproductive as the first… It’s better this way. If the Captain will not report our actions, then we are free to move as necessary in order to end this war.”

><><><><><

It was one of the first truly successful battles of the war for the side of the Republic. The Mandalorians had been slowly shifting their route on conquest and turning inward toward the Core Worlds of the Republic. The Mandalorian forces had attempted a sort of pincer movement by capturing Ithor and Iridonia, however, in a second battle at Iridonia, the Republic had managed to liberate the Iridonian system from Mandalorian control.

The Republic needed this victory. Their war efforts thus far had been met with little to no success, and the Mandalorian front was gradually closing inward on Republic space over the past year of fighting since the Republic had first entered the war. With all of their resources and trained soldiers, the thing that the Republic was lacking was the Mandalorians’ almost fanatical views of honor in battle. Every action was for the glory of battle, for the thrill of meeting an opponent and facing them to the death.

It was largely these views that made the Mandalorians so ruthless in their conquests. Try as they may, the Republics tactics could not seem to effectively counter the warrior race. At Iridonia, the Republic had been lucky enough to have the aid of the Zabraks in repelling them.

But Iridonia and Ithor were Mid-Rim systems. That the Mandalorian front had managed to progress this far at all was a startling realization in and of itself. When the Mandalorians had begun attacking unaligned planets in the Outer-Rim thirteen years prior, the Republic had not expected them to be a threat other than perhaps the occasional supply raid. However, what had resulted now because of their ignorance toward the situation had become potentially fatal to the very existence of the Republic.

><><><><><

Jedi Master Arren Kae entered the Chamber of the Jedi High Council on Coruscant. Her nearly white blonde hair hung gently over her shoulders like a crest of gold-rimmed clouds atop the olive and chestnut forest of her robes. Her dark blue eyes seemed as deep as the sea. She was an attractive woman to be sure, but an even more deadly warrior should she choose.

The woman had spent much time among the Echani people, a race of near-humans originally from Eshan who were widely regarded for their swordsmanship and mastery of unarmed combat. For the Echani, the only way to truly know a person was through combat. To them, communication best came through the exchange of motion in their ancient martial arts customs.

During her time among the Echani, Master Kae had learned much in the terms of their battle techniques. It was an ancient tradition, to know another through sparring—No weapons, no armor, no tools… only two bodies and two souls, their every motion speaking beyond the capability of words.

The woman stepped to the center of the Council Chamber and bowed in respect to the other Masters present who formed the Jedi Council. “The Council has requested my presence?” The woman asked them. She’d heard much recently regarding trouble with one of her former apprentices. She assumed that the reasoning for her summons had to do with this—that they would ask her to speak to the apprentice—but she knew that they were wasting their time if this was their purpose. While the Jedi Knight Halin Chan had always treated Kae with respect while under her tutelage, she had also always been quite independent. Miss Chan was a good-natured pupil though, and Master Kae was confident that her intentions matched this nature.

The Mandalorians and the Echani were very much alike in some ways, yet very different in others. Both were warrior races, feared by those who opposed them. But Mandalorians only sought conquest and the glory of battle. The Echani sought understanding through combat. As her former teacher, Master Arren Kae was confident that her former apprentice was closer to an Echani than to a Mandalorian.
But these things were not why the Council had requested her audience.

“The Council has been informed of some rather… disturbing news recently, and we wished to address you in person about the situation before coming to any of our own conclusions,” one of the Council members stated.
Master Kae furrowed her brow. The statement had been a confusing one to her. “What news is it that the Council has heard?” she dared to ask.

“A source, who has asked us to remain anonymous, has come to us recently with some rumors regarding your time spent on Eshan approximately eleven years ago,” they continued. “It is these rumors which we wish to discuss with you.”

“As you are well aware,” spoke another, “much has changed in our time as a result of the Great Sith War… Changes among the practices of the Jedi Order have been put into place for the purpose of avoiding the temptations which lead so many to yield to their passions and fall to the dark side during those difficult times.”

“Yes, I understand this,” Master Kae said to them. “Such changes were put into place with the best intentions for the future of the Jedi Order in mind. However, I must admit that I’m unsure what this has to do with my time on Eshan. As you know, I was stationed there to aid in diplomatic proceedings between the Echani and the Jedi Council. There were many young Echani who were sensitive to the Force that you wished to have sent to be trained and potentially join the rank of Padawan.”

“Yes, and we had you test a great deal of Echani children for Force-Sensitivity… Including the daughters of one of their generals… a General Yusanis, if I recall correctly?”

A flicker of emotions briefly rippled over Master Arren Kae’s naturally calm demeanor, but she regained her composer so very quickly that the only way one could have noticed would have been if they had been looking for such a thing in advance.

“Yes,” Master Kae replied. “He had five daughters, though I did not sense that any of them had any talent in the ways of the Force…”

“His sixth daughter wouldn’t have been born at that point, I suppose… Like but unalike to her sisters, the child bares the face of her mother… Your face, Master Kae. Do you deny this?”

Master Kae’s eyes were as deep as the sea, lost in reflection of the past. She remembered General Yusanis fondly. He was an expert in combat, and the two of them had sparred often while she was on Eshan. He was one of the finest dualists among the Echani, and his children were among those that the Jedi Council hoped to have tested for the potential of becoming Jedi.

While all five had failed the tests that Master Kae had given to them, her interactions with the General had continued through the entirety of the duration of her stay on Eshan. He was fierce and masterful in the way he moved in combat. She had learnt much of the Echani and their traditions from him. Their martial arts, their traditions of honor… he had even shared with her some Echani poetry, though it caused her to understand why they preferred poetry in motion to the use of words.

To the Echani, words were clumsy things. The only true expression of a person could be achieved through the own dance of their body in hand to hand combat. It was a communication so pure to them that they felt it could be used to truly understand another’s soul. It was through combat that she had come to know the soul of the Echani General… and through combat that he had come to learn hers. Such had been the case on the occasion in which the two had consummated what they had come to understand as love.

It had been after a particularly intense sparring session. As tradition mandated, there were to be no weapons, no shields, no armor… only warrior against warrior, flesh against flesh… The two were an equal match, the intensity of their attacks showing the respect they held for one another. There was no restraint, no hesitation, only pure, unadulterated motion. Poetry in motion. A dance in the duel. A duet spun of martial art. The intensity climaxed until there was nothing left but the two of them. Warrior and Warrior. Man and Woman…

“Master Kae?”

The Council Chamber had grown silent waiting for her response. Master Arren Kae swallowed, bringing her thoughts back to the present.

“I do not deny this… The child bears my face because I am the child’s mother.”

“You understand that such things have been forbidden among the Jedi Order, Master Kae?”

“I do,” she said simply. While she had hoped otherwise, she’d always known that it would be impossible for her to hide the situation forever. She had not personally seen the child since soon after it was born. Yusanis had begged her to leave the child to him on Eshan in order to avoid the punishment of the Jedi Council and a scandal among the Echani political scene.

“Then you understand that we are left with no choice,” the Council continued. “Arren Kae, the Jedi Council finds you guilty of knowingly yielding to your own passions and defying the Council’s mandates proceeding the Great Sith War. We are forced to expel you from the order and ask that you relinquish your lightsaber.”

Silently, Arren Kae closed her eyes and bowed respectfully in acceptance of the Jedi Council’s decree. She removed the hilt of her saber from her belt and laid it in the center of the chamber before turning and exiting in silence. For the Echani, there was more spoken in movement than in words. And for Arren Kae, there was more spoken in silence. Motion, simple and pure, filled a void of connotation which words could not.

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.

><><><><><

   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…”

><><><><><

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: THE MERCY OF THE JEDI (Part 4 of 5)

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Master Dorjander Kace was a former member of the High Council of the Jedi Order and one of the last surviving members to have actively fought in the Great Sith War. He was in a unique position among the Jedi in his personal experience with the Mandalorians. After all, he was captured by them early on during the war and held prisoner for most of the time. It was during the period of his capture and confinement that his perspective on the Mandalorians began to shift.

He hadn’t taken the Revanchist movement seriously until very recently. After all, they were just a bunch of children, really. Children with a vision of what they perceived as heroism. They were nothing he considered concerning himself over until recently. Recently, after a confrontation by several Jedi Masters in which all present had witnessed a great massacre on the planet Cathar, there was a little weight gained to their movement.

It was after this vision that the Council had begun to cooperate with them… And it was after this vision that Dorjander Kace had left the Jedi High Council. He stood now with three former Padawans of his, now knights: a Faleen Female named Jaska, a Cathar Female named Veskasa, and a Chagrian Female named Sabawyn.

Master Dorjander Kace had decided that it was time. It was time for him to make his own point known in this war. It was time for him to stop watching and to use what he knew in order to bring about true justice. And under the circumstances, he knew his only hope would be to join the Revanchists.

“We’re ready, Master Kace,” Jaska said. “We all share you’re your vision, your ideal… We all know what must be done. We are ready to serve.”

“Excellent,” he said. “These Revanchists as they call themselves may be our only hope in the matter. Remember your training. They mustn’t suspect our true motives for joining. Par tor!”

“Par tor!” all three repeated. And four coppery-orange blades ignited, all joining one another.

“Our time,” Master Kace said, “is now!”

><><><><><

While Revan had expected there to be new recruits after the Council had sanctioned their request to join the Republic Mercy Corps, she had not expected there to be so many wishing to join the Revanchists. It was a bit overwhelming, really. Even excluding Arren, there were ten new recruits in total—more than enough to make up for their lost numbers after Fiolli and Nisotsa were forced to leave. Xaset had also chosen to rejoin them.

The new recruits were quite a varied bunch. There were a couple of Zabraks who had decided to join after the Mandalorians had attacked the Iridonia system—Acaadi, and Duqua Dar, both Guardian Knights. There were humans, too—two males by the name of Cale Berkona, and Voren Renstaal, and a female by the name of Cariaga Sin. There was even an Ithorian among them by the name of Thuggjomlern Din! What was possibly the most surprising of all, however was the presence of Jedi Master Dorjander Kace and three of his former Padawans who had all become Knights—a Faleen Female, a Cathar Female, and a Chagrian Female.

The whole thing made Revan’s heart flutter with excitement that so many had been inspired to take up the cause. With numbers and with the support of the Republic, they would finally be able to start making an impact in the war effort, even if it was under the banner of the Mercy Corps.

There were sixteen of them now in total, all gathered around to discuss further course of action. “I’ve spoken with Captain Telettoh, our liaison with the Republic while members of the Jedi Mercy Corps,” Revan told them all. We are to set out in one week’s time. The Republic is providing transport aboard several of their hammerhead class cruisers. We are likely to be divided and sent to different areas of troops depending on where Jedi support is needed. If that is the case, you will be serving under whatever Republic officer is in charge of the company you are supporting. Even so, you are to report progress back to me on a regular basis. I’ll need to submit report to Council of our actions on a regular basis.”

The last part was half true. The Council did want to keep tabs on them, but if Revan were to report the information herself rather than have it channel through Republic feeds, she would better be able to control what information they received. After all, they couldn’t risk any provocation of the Council to try to shut them down again. They had to keep this as clean as possible, particularly until they were able to gain momentum, if they were to survive as a unit.

“In one week,” she continued, “We are to meet with Captain Telettoh at the Embassy to head out. Are there any questions?”

“I have one.”

It was Malak who had spoken. Curious, Revan turned to him. “Yes, Malak?”

She really did think that the tattoos really were becoming on him, even if he had insisted it was only a lie to try to cheer him up at the time. While the change had startled her after the trial, he had started becoming surer of himself. He was more opinionated since they had first formed the Revanchists. She assumed that it had developed out of necessity, when he had been on charge on Flashpoint, and when he had been forced to step into command temporarily after the destruction of Serrocco had left her incapacitated.

“There are so many new faces among us… how can we be certain they will truly be loyal to our cause?”

There was a glint in his eyes which told her everything. He was referring to the understanding the new recruits were likely to have of the situation of being labelled as ‘Mercy Corps.’ The question was whether they were there as Revanchists, or as Mercy Corps. It was a fair concern, and it wasn’t exactly something that could be just blurted out… Not yet, at least.

“I don’t know that they will be,” Revan stated simply. “However, I’m willing to give each of them the benefit of the doubt … for the time being, at least. I tell all of you now, just as I have told the first Revanchists before, our mission will not be an easy one, and it is possible that none of us will return from it. If there is any doubt in your mind about being here, then you should leave now, while you still have the chance. I give you the week to reflect upon whether this is what is truly within your hearts. If there is any doubt by the time it comes to leave, then I request that you remain on Coruscant, understanding that this is not the path for you. I have no further statements for you. Revanchists, I shall see you in one week’s time. May the Force be with you.”

><><><><><

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 5 of 5)

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      All was black. All was still. There was nothing. There was no light. There was no sound. There was no smell. There was only the darkness. It was so very dark. Revan could feel her heart racing, her breath rising and falling heavily. There was something else there with her.

   Betrayal…

   She frantically looked around, but there was still nothing but blackness. Her senses failed her, but a presence remained in the Force. Something else was there. Something so powerful that it could have swallowed her whole.

   She thought she felt a breath, cold and stale, close to her ear and quickly spun around to meet it but found nothing. She swallowed hard, her eyes frantically darting across the dark void, but to no avail.

   “A traitor…”

   The voice!

   She swiftly drew her lightsaber, its deep purple hue illuminating her own face, for her mask was not here… but the darkness remained simply darkness. She could see nothing else but her blade and herself.

   “Who is there?” She managed. “Who are you? Why are you following me?”

   She could feel herself shivering. She felt unusually cold. A sense of dread began to fill her. At first, there was no reply.

   “Answer me!” she demanded, more forcefully this time. “What are you doing in my head? You’re not welcome here. Get out—now!”

   This time, the deep laughter came from before and Revan’s shivering had turned to trembling.

   “So many traitors among you,” the voice said. “I truly wonder… are there any you can actually call your friend?”

   Revan shifted her form from Shii-Cho to a Makashi, her eyes still darting frantically about the surrounding blackness. “I’m warning you,” she said. “Leave now!”

   “Or what? Dear child, I thought you enjoyed games…”

   Before Revan knew what was happening, she was falling through the blackness and landed squarely on a hard marble surface. She could make out some figures now. The floor was large ebony and ivory checkers and she was surrounded by strange-looking statues in the same colors and material. She quickly got back up and resumed her form, but noticed that, strangely, her cloak and her robes had turned to white, and she wore pieces from the Deralian armor which Talon had gifted to her.

   She looked around for the source of the voice but could find nothing. No one…. Upon a closer observation of her surroundings, she found that she was in the middle of what appeared to be a very large game board resembling those that would be used for Chess, or for Shah-Tezh.

   ‘What sort of strange place is this?...’ She wondered.

   “Your mind!”

   The voice came loud and clear from directly behind her, so suddenly and with such force that she could not help but to give a startled cry. It was answering the question which she’d been certain she’d not voiced aloud. Swiftly, she spun around in time to see one of the statues moving rapidly toward her. Without time to move out of the way, she swung, slicing cleanly across the center. Oddly, the statue shattered and then vanished into a puff of smoke, as if it had never been there to begin with.

   “A Queen,” the voice continued. “Most fitting… I should have suspected so much.”

   “Whoever you are, I’ve had enough of your mind games!”

   “But I’m only getting started, Revan. Why won’t you play a few rounds with me?”

   Another piece came, this time from her left. With more time to react, she leapt out of its way and attacked from behind, this time at a one o’clock angle. Again, the statue vanished. A cold sweat began to form on her temples. She maintained her form, standing ready to attack again.

   “I said enough!”

   “I’m afraid that choice isn’t yours to make, child…”

   “I’m not a child! I am a Jedi Knight, and I will bring peace to the Republic!”

   The voice laughed maniacally, and Revan turned frantically, still searching for its source.

   “Silly girl, not a Knight, but a Queen… And one who should be prudent, lest the true Knight betray her to be used as a sacrificial piece….”

   Suddenly it hit her. The game that they were playing… If she could win the game, then perhaps she could free herself of the voice. She sprinted across the board, but it seemed oddly larger than it should have been, as if there were no end on any side of it.

   “…for in the end,” the voice continued, “even if the Queen is the most powerful, all pieces exist only to defend the King…”

   Revan stopped short, something was approaching her from the darkness, cloaked in black and red with a hood covering its head. Whatever it was, this thing was not a statue as the other pieces had been. She held her blade ready to strike on the offensive.

   The full cloaked figure came into view now, the amethyst light from her saber reflecting back on her from the glinting metal of its armor. Slowly, the figure lifted its hood, and when it did, Revan went pale.

   She was not sure what she had expected to see when the figure revealed itself, but what it was she could not have prepared herself for. For there, staring back at her, was her own face! The eyes of the reflection gleamed a yellowed amber, and the lips were drawn in a blood red smirk. Revan staggered backward a few steps, her breathing becoming increasingly labored.

   The reflection drew its own saber, the gleaming red piercing through the darkness. In the background, the hollow laughter of the voice loomed around them. Revan could feel it pounding within her skull. She wanted desperately for it to stop. The sound was maddening. She tried to close her senses to it, but it didn’t pay at the time to block any alertness. For the moment she did, the reflection advanced with alarming speed.

   Revan didn’t have time enough to react and parry or block the attack. She felt a piercing burn in her abdomen as the reflection lunged forward with a stab, those glinting yellow eyes staring into her own, and she cried out in pain. She felt dizzy, the world around her becoming a haze, the smell of burnt flesh hanging strong and present in the air…

><><><><><

“Revan!”

Arren Kae was holding her former pupil in her arms and attempting desperately to shake her awake. She had been thrashing about in her sleep and had suddenly screamed, as if in intense pain. The sudden sound had woken both Arren and Malak, who were the only others aboard the Stalwart Nightingale at the time and they had both rushed to see what had happened. When they found her, Revan was pale as death, the mask laying on the ground beside her bunk. She was convulsing and that was when Kae had restrained her in order to prevent her from injuring herself.

“Revan, wake up,” the former Jedi Master repeated, this time holding a hand over the younger woman’s face and applying pressure to the temples and mid brow.

Revan’s eyes fluttered open and she immediately began sobbing in pain. It had all felt so real! So agonizingly real…

“Shhh…” Arren said. “It was only a nightmare…”

“No,” Malak said. “No I’ve seen her like this before. She’s been having these strange visions. She doesn’t know how to control them… I keep telling her she needs to get help, but she refuses to listen to me!”

Kae shook her head and placed a hand on either of Revan’s cheeks, brushing them gently with her cheeks. “Calm down now… Tell us what happened. Tell us what you saw…”

“The voice…” It was all that she could manage to say before the pain overwhelmed her again and she cried out, clutching the place where the reflection’s blade had pierced her.

Arren frowned. “Are you injured? Show me…” she pried Revan’s hands from the spot in order to check for any sort of a wound. While there did not appear to be any physical damage, the place was unusually hot—burning even. She didn’t know what to make of it. “I don’t see any external injuries, but perhaps there’s something internal… here.”

Arren Kae closed her eyes, concentrating deeply until a blue-green glow began to emit from her hands. She passed them over the place that Revan had previously been clutching at. Whatever it was that the younger woman had seen in her vision appeared to have been attempting to manifest itself to the outside.

Arren turned to Malak, hoping for more explanation. It was quite clear that her former apprentice would not be capable of answering much of anything for a bit of time still… “What is this voice?”

“I don’t know exactly,” Malak admitted. “She says it speaks to her during the visions… that sometimes it says terrible things she dares not to repeat… You don’t think that whatever it is might be causing all of this, do you?”

“It’s hard to say… I would need more information… You said that there have been other occurrences?”

“Yes, some more intense than others… I remember during our first visit to Cathar the timing of the vision coincided so closely to the destruction of Serrocco that the disturbance left her struggling for basic motor functions for over a week after… Other times she would mix up the visions with reality. She attacked the Scientist Demagol when he was aboard and unconscious as our prisoner while we transported him to Coruscant to go into Republic custody.” Malak reflected bitterly at the thought. He still hadn’t forgiven himself for stopping her. “I saw the situation from the security web and was able to intervene before she ended up killing him… I’ve never seen her in physical pain though. Out of breath or a bit nauseous, yes… but never like this.”

Revan’s breathing was finally beginning to slow to a more normal rate. Both Malak and Kae let out an audible sigh of relief. Revan groaned and attempted to sit up.

“Careful,” Kae said, assisting her in sitting. “You’re still quite weak. You seemed to be burning up from the inside….”

“It felt like I’d been impaled…”

“Impaled?” Malak repeated, rather confused. “What exactly happened?”

“It’s… difficult to describe… It was far more abstract than any of the visions I’ve told you of previously. I… I was a part of some sort of a game… A game of chess, it seemed. The voice was my opponent… But nothing that it said seemed to make any sense… I realized that the only way to get out would be to win the game… except I was a piece also… just a piece in some sort of a larger game…”

“A pawn?”

“No…. no, not exactly…”

“Then a Knight?”

“That’s what I had thought initially, but the voice claimed I was the Queen and that the true Knight would betray me as a sacrificial piece to protect the King… None of what it was saying made sense…”

“Did you ever find the King?”

“No… No, I found my opponent’s Queen…” Her eyes grew distant remembering the dark reflection of herself which she had witnessed within the vision. “It was the Queen who attacked me… who tried to kill me…” to protect the King!

“Did you see who the Queen was?” It was Kae who asked this time. She had a bad feeling about this. She had heard of experiences of Jedi being faced with similar instances during extreme cases of the Trial of the Spirit that was administered during the tests for a Padawan to gain the rank of Knight, or for a Knight to gain the rank of Master. It was sometimes referred to as ‘Facing the Mirror.’ She feared that this might have been what Revan was experiencing in a far more intense form than it had manifested itself during her trials… “Revan, please tell me…. I can’t help you if you won’t tell me what’s going on…”

Revan did not reply, unwilling to admit what she had seen. Unwilling to admit the dark version of herself with which she had been faced…

“I told you to get help,” Malak said. “There’s still time before we leave Coruscant…”

“From whom?” Revan said defensively. “I did consider it… seeking out the school of the seers here on Coruscant… But Krynda Draay is dead now, Malak. And without her, seers are few and far between…”

“I’m not a seer,” Kae said, standing and leaving Revan to sit on her own now, “but I do think that can help you… This voice… Is it in all of your visions?”

“Yes…”

“And how would you describe the voice? How does it sound?”

Revan considered it, shuttering at the memory. “It often seems as though it’s coming from inside my head itself… like I can’t shut it out… but often it creeps in, as if it has been there the entire time… I can never seem to locate exactly where it is coming from because it feels like it’s coming from everywhere at once…”

“And would you say it is the visions, or the voice that disturbs you?”

Revan thought about it. While many of the visions had been disturbing on her own, it was the voice which had filled her with more dread than the visions themselves. In fact, at times it seemed as though the voice were somehow controlling what would manifest itself within the vision…

“It’s the voice,” she said in reply.

“I see… well the good news is that, if you’re willing, I think there’s a way that I can help you… at least to manage what is going on. I’m no seer, so I can’t help you to control the visions themselves… but I may be able to help you to block the sound of the voice…”

“I’m willing to try just about anything if it means that I can get the damned thing out of my head…”

“Do you recall what I told you of the Mak’Tor?”

“Of their song?” Revan almost scoffed.

“Don’t laugh, child. I’m too young to be your mother. Don’t force me to have to treat you like I am.”

“Sorry… Yes, I remember.”

“The healer I told you of… Ta’Lona’Mack’… When she told me of the explanation of the Song, and what it was to her people, I asked her if she could help me to try to hear… Guide me as she tried, I only every heard a faint whiff of it…”

“I don’t see where you’re going with this…”

“I think that it could help you, Revan… If you can learn to hear the song as she described… then perhaps the sound of it would be enough to drown out the voice… or at least to distract from it. It seems from your description that it is the sound which bothers you so… If that’s the case, then perhaps your senses will be more receptive than my own to the Song… I’ve decided I’m coming with you and with the Revanchists. You will need guidance if you are to learn how to manage these visions… I can relay to you what I know and remember of Ta’Lona’Mack’s words. I sometimes use what little I can hear for meditative purposes… If you are willing to allow your old master to teach you once more.”

While Revan still wasn’t fully convinced of the idea, it was the only plausible help she’d found or been offered, and she knew that if the visions continued to progress like this, things would only get worse…

Revan beat a fist to her chest, bowing respectfully to Arren Kae. “I would be honored if you were to accept me as your apprentice once more.”

So I got stuck waiting in a Starbucks for a few hours with only my laptop with me, so I figured I would get a little bit done on the next chapter. No idea when the rest will come, since I have all of the aforementioned stuff coming up within the next two weeks, but it's a start. :)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: TOO CLOSE TO HOME (Part 1 of likely 4 to 5)


   Mical was thirteen years old when he left Dantooine for Coruscant. Much had changed over the last two years, since the Republic had entered into war with the Mandalorians. Politics within the Jedi Order were strained at best. There were many factions which had arisen with various opposing views on the role of the Jedi in the grand scheme of the Republic’s war with the Mandalorians.

   It had begun with the formation of a small band of Jedi who, against the Jedi Council’s wishes, set out to engage the Mandalorians and to aid the Republic in their war efforts. The rogue band of Jedi were known as the Revanchists. Jedi Knight Opela Moraf had been one of the first among them—the same Opela Moraf whom Mical had grown to admire three years prior, and who he had determined he wanted to be his Master when he was of age to be selected to become a Padawan.

   Now, the boy was thirteen. He was of age when he would need to be selected by a Master or Knight to begin his training… and he was old enough to realize that the path of the Jedi was not for him. The one he had hoped would train him had left two years prior with the Revanchists to aid in the Republic’s fight against the Mandalorians. It was partially this movement which had caused such a disturbance in the Masters that formed the High Council. Several of them, such as Master Atris, had declared that they were no longer fit to be Jedi. Had the movement remained as a Mercy Corps as the Council had reluctantly agreed to following the proposal by the Revanchists leader, there wouldn’t have likely been so much of an issue. But now, the Republic had been openly accepting the Revanchists aid outside of medical purposes, in direct combat with the Mandalorians.

   The boy honestly believed that Jedi Opela Moraf was doing the right thing. From what he had come to understand of her in the time he had known her on Dantooine, he did not think that she was capable of anything so atrocious as what those such as Master Atris assumed the Revanchists capable of. Opela Moraf represented the type of Jedi which Mical had wished to become. And if it was declared that she was no longer to be a Jedi, then he had decided that the path of the Jedi would not be the path for him.

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Padawan Bastila Shan sat meditating alone in the Courtyard of the Jedi Enclave on Dantooine. A small flock of Brith flew overhead, the white of their underbellies like great cloudy kites gliding over Dantooine’s flora. Bastila deeply enjoyed meditation. She felt placid, calm… it was a thing which she had struggled with when she was first brought to Dantooine for training. She’d deeply missed her family on Talravin when she’d first moved. She’d kept in contact for a while when she was younger, but gradually fell out of it. It was better that way according to several of the Masters at the enclave. After all, the emotional attachments of family were best to be avoided in order to keep one’s emotions more stable. Emotions could be a very powerful thing for one gifted in the Force, and could often lead to more harm and destruction than help.

Through meditation, she was able to feel at ease. To relax… She’d not been a Padawan for very long now—after all, it had only been a few brief months since she had been selected to continue her formal training as a Jedi—but already she was making excellent progress according to her Masters. Master Zhar Lestin had bid her to focus on her meditation, though she wasn’t certain why. He said that she had exhibited certain characteristics which the Dantooine Council wished to further test, as they might develop with interesting results… whatever that meant.

To Bastila, it seemed as though she were under some sort of constant test. Always as a youngling they were given various riddles and tests about the Jedi code and about making the appropriate decision based on Jedi teachings in various circumstances. There was one of those questions, however, which continued to trouble her.

It was during a discussion led by one of the Knights, Opela Moraf, three years prior. All had been fine… Moraf had been explaining to them the concept of Force bonds, as per the request of another youngling at the Academy there. Another Knight—Halin Chan—had joined Moraf part way through the discussion. It was the last question which Chan had posed to the younglings which troubled her so:

“What makes an action good or evil?”

If it were just this much alone, it wouldn’t have bothered her. After all, she had given what she had believed to be an acceptable answer. However, upon her reply, Chan had posed her an additional question. The conversation had gone something like so:

“Obviously,” young Bastila had told her, “Good actions are done to serve the greater good, and evil actions are done to serve evil purposes.” She’d thought the answer was a satisfactory one. It seemed, after all, like what the Masters would have wanted to hear. But Chan, it seemed, was different than her Masters:

“Ah, but are they?” the Knight replied. “Is it really so simple?.... Let me ask you this: Is killing a man a good act, or is it an evil one?”

   Bastila had thought this an odd question. Did Chan think her to be stupid? “Evil, clearly,” she replied. The answer should have been obvious.

   Halin Chan continued: “And is killing a man who is trying to kill another—billions of others, even—evil… or is it good?”

   The woman was regarding her curiously, and it made Bastila feel rather uncomfortable. The content and context of her question made her uncomfortable… Until that moment, she had always seen very clear black and white answers to the Masters’ questions. There was very clear light, and very clear dark… but this woman seemed to attempt to blur the lines between the two… to justify actions which Bastila had considered to be unjustifiable… But then again, perhaps this was all simply a part of the test. The girl swallowed and risked an answer.

   “A Jedi should never resort to killing.” What she had said was true… or so she thought it was. It was, after all, as she had been taught. Jedi were keepers of peace within the galaxy.

   “But you are avoiding my question, young one….”

   It was at this point in the conversation that Master Vrook had thankfully ended the interaction. The thoughts had made young Bastila Shan quite uncomfortable, and she had wondered if this had been the Knight’s intention the entire time. After all, ‘Halin Chan’ had become somewhat of a rogue Jedi since then. She now called herself ‘Revan,’ and sported a Mandalorian mask as she led other Jedi knights in her crusade to recapture the Republic territories which had been lost to the Mandalorians in the war. It was almost natural that one with such un-Jedi-like habits should be the one to post such clouded riddles. But it still bothered her. Three years later, the question was still bothering her… and she wasn’t sure why. She wondered, perhaps, if it were because she questioned her own answer. What would she do were she faced with the situation herself and not just as a riddle?

   Bastila opened her eyes, unable to maintain her meditative trance with such thoughts protruding through her mind. She let out a frustrated sigh. Why was this bothering her now? There were so many other more important things for her to focus on in the present. After all, the special testing that Master Zhar Lestin had mentioned would be coming up, and she needed to ensure she was ready for it when the time came. Attempting to push all thoughts from her mind once more, she closed her eyes and focused on meditation.

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Things had changed greatly in the operations of the Revanchists over the last year. Revan’s persuasions directed toward Captain Telettoh had proven useful indeed, for after a few months, Jedi medical support had transformed into simply Jedi support. The Revanchists had been divided into smaller companies now of one to four, depending upon the needs of the individual battlefield. Revan, Malak, and a few others including Moraf and Master Kace had been promoted to the rank of General within their respective companies. While their official banner was still ‘Mercy Corps,’ their actions did not live up to the title. They were Revanchists again.

Revan stood by the bridge of the Nemesis, watching the streaks of stars which whirred past the viewpoint during the ship’s hyperspace jump. She wore traditional brown robes now, as her old blue and black ones had been damaged beyond salvage in a rather close incident during a battle in the Thustra System. She was lucky enough to even be alive, and owed a great deal to Master Kae, who had been close enough after the explosion to treat her before her injuries had become too serious. Despite her Echani training, Kae was perhaps the most ‘Mercy Corps’ member of them all.

It was a groundside battle in which they were attempting to recapture a supply manufacturer from the Mandalorian unit stationed there. It was supposed to have been an espionage mission. Given their ability with the Force Cloak technique, Revan and Kae were to covertly enter the depot and take out the Mando’ade in charge of facility operations while sabotaging the supplies scheduled for shipment to the Mandalorian front. They would then place Republic soldiers in place to secretly continue to run operations there under the façade of Mandalorian control in order to send out the sabotaged supplies in multiple shipments. Before the Mandalorians had time to catch on, they would stage a battle in which the Republic would publicly re-take the depot and use it as a basis to recapture the planet.

It had been Revan’s idea. She had hoped that it would be a serious blow to The Mandalorian infrastructure in that region. However, their communications had been bugged, and the Mandalorians caught wind of the plan, laying a trap to greet them when they tried to enter the facility. It had been as they were coming around the southeastern side of the facility that Revan had accidentally tripped the mine. She had thought that she would be capable of disabling it, but the system was of a Mandalorian design with which she was unfamiliar. After failing to disable it, she had enough time to clear far enough for her limbs remained attached, but a large portion of her body was burned as a result of the explosion. Luckily enough for her, Kae was not close enough to be hit by the explosion, and was able to cloak them both, dragging her to safety and begin healing her injuries soon after. Even with kolto treatments, it had taken several weeks before Revan was fighting-ready again.

It was because of this incident that Revan now sported the bronze Deralian armor over her robes. When the Deralian military had been drafted into the Republic forces for the war, she had requested to be transferred to the unit led by her brother, Talon. Her reasoning was that she figured he would be more open to allowing her the freedom to continue the Revanchist movement as she saw fit, but while her assumption in this matter was mostly correct, she found him often trying to play ‘big brother’. After the incident in the Thustra system, the armor had become sort of a compromise. She had agreed to wear it if he agreed to continue to allow her to participate in ground combat.
While the two of them were often at odds over who had authority in what instances, she did appreciate his presence. After all, Talon had taken over their father’s position as head of the Deralian military after his retirement, and, with study, he had become, like their father and grandfather before them, an excellent military tactician. His knowledge in the field fascinated Revan, and she often asked him about it when she had the chance. It was as if she were back in her days of early Knighthood, thirstily seeking to drink in his vast wealth of knowledge on the subject matter.

Perhaps it was his pride, but Talon rather enjoyed the situation also. Rather than the Jedi Revan, leader of the Revanchist movement, she was his kid sister Halin, curiously seeking to mirror her elder brother. Happily, he shared with her all he had and all she was willing to take. He’d craved this for some time—a chance to be the brother he’d never had the chance to be after she was handed over to the Order for training.

Revan seemed to have a knack for understanding the mechanics of fleet and ground troop positionings and the like. The way that she enjoyed the situation… it almost seemed as if the whole thing were a game to her. A game of strategy and guile, and in which she had quite the competitive nature. Talon was rather impressed by his sister’s understanding of tactics, and allowed her, at her request and under his guidance, to aid in the positioning of troops in several of their battles. She was a natural talent, though he should have suspected so much to be the case. After all, it did run in the family.

He had initially been rather impressed by her strategy for the surprise attack on the Thustra system depot, and had allowed her the opportunity to carry out her idea for a covert approach to the recapture. What none of them could have anticipated, however, was that one of the grunts was playing both sides, and leaked information of the mission to Mandalorian officials groundside, allowing them time to set a trap for the two Jedi infiltrators. He was happy that they had survived the occurrence, but it made him warry of allowing ‘Revan’ to participate in any groundside missions. Even if she weren’t his sister, Jedi aid was limited and quite valuable. He couldn’t risk losing what little support they had.

After she’d finished her series of kolto treatments, he had approached Revan about his previous gift again. While she’s stubbornly continued to protest just as she had before, he was eventually able to convince her that it would be for the better.

Revan hated the armor still. It was clunky, and heavy, and slowed her down significantly, causing her to have to draw quite heavily upon the Force should she desire to come close to matching her speed without. She still refused to wear all of it, and had settled on just the breastplate and bracers for minimal obtrusion to her movement in combat. Paired with the Mandalorian mask she had picked up on Cathar, she was an odd hodgepodge of cultures—Jedi robes and cloak, Deralian armor, and a Mandalorian mask.

“Are you ready?” came a voice from behind.

Revan turned to face former Jedi Master Arren Kae, who was the only other member of the Revanchists aboard the Nemesis, Admiral Talon Chan’s flagship. Kae had been aiding Revan over the last nearly year in managing the Force visions which had started coming to her quite frequently after the start of the war. The visions were a rather strange situation, in that Revan hadn’t previously encountered before the Revanchists. It was almost as if entering into the war had attracted the attention of something—or someone—that had caused them to manifest. In the visions, this thing was a voice. The voice.

It was the voice that made the visions so much more unsettling than they would have been simply on their own. They would often leave Revan utterly unable to function before Kae had stepped in and had begun training her in controlling and managing them. The two would practice entering into a meditative state in which they would listen for something the Mak’Tor on Coruscant referred to as ‘The Song.’ While Revan had initially thought the idea to be ridiculous, Kae’s suspicions on the matter had proven to be correct, for Revan seemed to have a greater capacity and sensitivity for sound than she had, and with enough focus, was able to drown out the sound of the Voice with the sound of the Song. The visions would still manifest themselves from time to time, but had become a manageable thing.

It was through Kae’s guidance that Revan had been able to achieve such a thing, and the two still continued their meditative training sessions fairly regularly. As silly as she had thought it to begin with, Revan found the Song quite soothing now. It had become as if a part of her own mental shield to shut out the darkness which seemed to loom and hover about.

“I’m ready,” Revan replied, stepping away from the viewport. She had come to look forward to these sessions as a moment of respite from the ongoing war. Even so there was an idea which had popped into her mind recently regarding the sessions. It might take some time for her to be able to reach any definitive conclusions on the matter, but it was something that she needed to try for herself. So with this in mind, she followed Kae from the bridge to begin their meditation session.

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The end of this chapter is finished, but I'm still working out the middle pieces Dx There's no classes though tomorrow, so hopefully I can find time to finish between catching up on homework and rewriting my script for the lecture recital. This bit is short, but.... there's not much left between this and the ending portion. It will more likely be 4 parts rather than 5. I think I can fit both halves of the end in one post.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: TOO CLOSE TO HOME (Part 2 of likely 4 to 5)

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Bastila wiped her brow and set the tools she had been using to her side. The sparks that had come up from the tool were hot, and, combined with the nerves, had caused her to break a sweat. It was time now, as a Padawan, for Bastila to build her very first lightsaber. She was to build it on her own, without assistance from anyone else. After taking a series of tests from the Masters regarding her actions in a set of varied circumstances, it was decided that the clearest path for her to follow would be that of the Jedi Sentinel. Being said, she received a yellow crystal from the Masters for the creation of her first lightsaber.

She felt an enormous amount of pressure in the completion of the task, however. There were so many possible ways that the thing could go wrong. She had to remain focused. She had to get this to be absolutely perfect. She would personally settle for nothing less.

She picked up the tool again and continued her work, her gaze intently focused on the mechanics of the thing. While she had read about the process many times, completing the actual thing was far more complicated than she had initially imagined it to be from the instructions. She had read and had heard stories of terrible things that could happen if, say, the crystal were to be set incorrectly. Given that the greatest of the Jedi artisans had arisen from those who had walked upon the path of the Jedi Sentinel, there was a reputation she had to upkeep.

She turned the yellow crystal that she had been given over in the light, admiring the glittering golden sparkle that reflected off of its natural facets. While ideally a Jedi would bond naturally with the crystal in their saber, it was not uncommon for a Padawan at the Dantooine enclave to be given a crystal for the purpose of constructing their first lightsaber. Granted, it was not the ideal situation. Ideally, a Jedi should find their own crystal to construct a lightsaber… but the caves where crystals grew on Dantooine had become too dangerous for Padawans to enter. Even the Masters dared not to attempt alone. A strange dark taint had begun to manifest itself there, and the caves had become infested with dangerous creatures touched by darkness. A few years before, a Padawan nearing Knighthood had entered the caves alone to go looking for crystals despite the known and nearly didn’t return alive. The Masters had become far stricter about entry as a result.

The crystal should still be compatible with her enough though. The Masters on Dantooine had been giving special tests to the students there when they became Padawans not only to determine their ideal role among the Order… but also to determine which initiate crystal should be compatible. It was a bit like playing matchmaker… except that the Padawans would be ‘married’ to their crystal for their saber.

   Padawan Bastila Shan carefully set the golden yellow crystal in its place. She did not sense any negative feedback from it… any unusual vibrations… She finally breathed, letting out a sigh of relief from the breath which she had not realized she’d been holding. While more than one crystal could be set in a saber, this was her first, and thus the only one she had available to set. Perhaps that was for the better though. After all, more crystals to set meant more room for error, and she wasn’t in the mood to test if the things she had read about exploding crystals were true or not.

   The hilt was a sleek and elegant design, and Bastila was quite proud of her work. It was a bright silvery gray and relatively even in width from top to bottom. There were thin ridges running all around, parallel to the blade, to aid with grip and the pommel design was relatively flat, but with a sort of spiraling pattern at its base. The emitter was similar to a pincer in shape and contained delicate perpendicular rectangular windows circling the opening for the blade.

Holding the saber hilt in a ready stance with both hands, she pressed the flush silver trigger and watched the yellow blade spring to life. Her smile beamed as brightly as the light from the saber’s blade. She had done it! She had finished constructing her first lightsaber! Surely her Master would be proud of the work she’d done. After all, it was quite the beautiful piece if she did say so herself. Deactivating the blade, she clipped the hilt of her newly constructed lightsaber to her belt and left the workbench to show her Master the end result.

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Dust stirred up from basilisk war droids and gleaming red bolts of blaster fire whirred through the night air at the battle on Essien. They had fallen for it! After it had finally seemed like the tide of the battle was turning in the Republic’s favor, they had fallen for the trap laid by their enemies… both the known ones and the previously unknown.

“Are you certain it’s them?” one soldier said to another.

“Unless you know of any other Jedi on Essien, I’m afraid so…”

It was terrible! The context of all of it… The same Jedi who had joined their lines earlier in the battle and had helped them to repel the Mandalorians had set a trap for the Republic forces, luring them into a surprise attack from the Mandalorians. Now, those four Jedi stood before them, clad in Mandalorian armor, their coppery orange blades ignited like fires sprung forth from some hellish inferno. It was like something straight out of a nightmare.

Captain Dallan Morvis had attempted to flush the remaining Mandalorians out of the forest by using tibana sticks to burn down the forest, but the plan had backfired and caused them to fall into a counter trap set up by none other than Dorjander Kace, the Revanchist Jedi who was leading the Jedi support group that had been sent to Essian. He had with him, three other Knights. Only hours before, they had helped the Republic military forces to drive the Mandalorians from the beach and now they were helping the Mandalorians to launch a full-out onslaught on the Republic forces.

Overwhelmed by the Mandalorians sheer numbers and buy their newly gained Jedi support, the Republic forces were forced to surrender. They were taken prisoner and drafted by the very Mandalorians which they had been fighting. Foe was friend. Friend was foe. And the Mandalorian Knights (as they called themselves) were the focal point of it all.

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To clear up the confusion of the end of the last part, here is the next. I'm still finishing one more part between this and the ending, but I'm not sure I'll get to finish it today, so in the meantime....

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: TOO CLOSE TO HOME (Part 3 of to 5)

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Dorjander Kace sat on the observation deck of the Reciprocity staring down at the face that shown in the little yellow orb which he held in his hand. It was a young human woman with brown hair cut into a shaggy top with the sides shaven and the back pulled into a ponytail. She had intense brown eyes and full lips, which were drawn into a rather serious expression, and had an olive complexion. She was wearing a sort of armor and had the look of a great warrior about her.

‘Varda….’ Dorjander thought, and he brought the image to his lips and softly pressed a kiss to it.

This was for Varda, whose eyes were closed forever. This was for their child, whose eyes would never open to the outside world. This was for the innocent lives who had so cruelly been taken in the name of ‘justice’ and ‘peace’ by a Republic corrupted beyond the knowledge of what these things actually were. A Republic that did not fight its own wars, but one that used its Force-wielding Kath Hounds among the Jedi Order to do the dirty work for it! It had happened during the Great Sith War, and now it was happening again.

They were innocent! They had done nothing! The target was civilian—not military! He recalled digging and rummaging through the debris from the bombing, only to find her limp and lifeless body, half burned, her left arm completely severed from the blast. Her face and hair were all matted with blood and her armor dented so badly that it was pierced and protruded through her body in several places. A tear ran down his cheek and dampened his graying blonde beard as he recalled the scene. And the worst part of it was that the attack wasn’t launched by Republic officers—it had been launched by a Jedi!

Their child would have been about thirty-three standard years old by now. But even though it had been so long, the pain was still there. He did not expect that it would ever fully go away. There was nothing that he could do to change what had happened… to bring back to life the innocent lives which had been unfairly taken away. Varda was a Mandalorian. She always expected to die in the glory of battle… but she was never given a fair fight for which to die.

The Council was right. The Jedi’s place was in fighting the Sith—not in fighting the Republic’s wars for it. It was why he had been one of those most actively in opposition of the Revanchist movement formed by the Jedi who now called herself Revan. If the Mandalorians were fighting without the Force, it was only fair for the Republic to do the same. The duty of the Jedi was to protect the innocent, and in Kace’s eyes, the Republic no longer fit that description. When the Council started speaking of the possibility of support for the cause, however, that was when Dorjander Kace knew that it was time for him to do what he could to right this terrible wrong, and so he had stepped down from his position on the Jedi Council.

He had determined that, if the Republic were going to have Jedi aiding them in the war, then he needed to balance the playing field… to give the Mandalorians their own Jedi Order. It wasn’t going to be an easy feat. After all, there was no time to begin an Order completely from scratch.

He had enlisted the help of some of his former Padawans, now Knights, who had been sympathetic to his stories of Varda and their unborn child. The three Jedi had been willing to join in the plan, despite the obvious risks. When the Council approved of the Jedi Mercy Corps, that was when Kace knew it would be time for their plan to begin to take form.

As long as the Revanchists had remained a Mercy Corps, none of this would have needed to happen. Revan kept pushing for more, pushing to test the boundaries of what could be put passed the Council, kept insisting on the Jedi involvement in combat against the Mandalorians… And in response, when this combat finally came, Kace was forced to enact his counter-combat.

His Mandalorian Knights would join the Mandalorian cause and counter the Jedi with Jedi. The Mandalorians were a naturally Force-Resistant race and were quite superstitious of Force wielders as a result. They did not believe in using “tricks” and “magic” in battle like the Jedi did… but being Force resistant, also meant that it was impossible for them to develop their own Jedi naturally.

Attempts had been made on more than one occasion to breed a Mandalorian Jedi in the past. There was the Osadia school, founded by Antos Wyrick, which sought to foster children to be trained as Mandalorian Knights… and later the experiments sanctioned by Mandalore for Doctor Demagol to discover the source of Jedi Force powers and learn how to genetically engineer them into the Mandalorians own troops… but nothing had been successful thus far.

Kace’s plan, however, held more promise. After all, he was a Jedi himself. He understood the Jedi and how to train them, and he had trained many quite successful Padawans in the past… All that they lacked now were the Jedi to train. All they lacked was a foundation for the next generation of Mandalorian Knights… and Kace knew just where to find that foundation which they needed.

The course had already been plotted for Dantooine, and the streaks of stars whirred passed as the ship barreled through hyperspace. He had checked on the Academy there rather frequently and knew very well that they were running on what was pretty much a skeleton staff. There were very few Masters there, as most had been transferred to Coruscant as of late, or were out on various field missions. However, what there was an abundance of on Dantooine were Padawans and Younglings. This was the foundation that they needed in order to build their own Mandalorian Knights. He would take the Padawans and Younglings to the Mandalorian planet Ordo and establish a new academy there for the training of the Mandalorian Knights.

He had managed well enough to keep his intentions hidden from the other Revanchists. No one seemed to suspect a thing when he had requested to be paired with his former pupils and when he had volunteered positions as he had. In fact, if anything, his experience with the Mandalorians during the Great Sith War had served to strengthen the trust that their leader, Revan, had in him. While the woman was a visionary and charismatic, she was also gullible and far too trusting of anyone claiming to want to take up her cause. She should have listened to her friend about being wary of so many new volunteers when we left Coruscant as the Mercy Corps… He was far more prudent.

What little ‘Jedi’ resistance he had faced thus far hadn’t come from the Order or from the Revanchists, but rather from some sad sap of a boy who had given up becoming a Jedi and tried to return to his home world only to be drafted into the Republic militia. Former Padawan Zayne Carrick was a member of the Phaeda militia which Kace’s company of Jedi had been sent to aid.

He was really no more than a boy though, and despite him having figured out Kace’s plan for Dantooine, then Mandalorian Knighs were able to make very short work of him and had him securely locked away in one of the Mandalorian prisons where some of the other Republic soldiers who had resisted being drafted into the Mandalorian army were being held. It was a shame, really. He had offered Carrick to join the Mandalorian Knights. He had told Carrick of Varda, and hoped that he would understand—after all, the Republic had deeply wronged the lad as well. He hoped that eventually the kid would see reason and join them. He’d decided that, when that day finally did come, there would be no hard feelings.

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I'm adding a couple more things to the trial scene before posting the very ending of this Chapter

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: TOO CLOSE TO HOME (Part 4 of to 5)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This Chapter contains quotes of dialogue from the "Knights of the Old Republic: War" Comic series by Darkhorse. I do not own this series.

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It was still early in the Dantooine day cycle when the Mandalorian troops began to land near the Jedi Academy there. It would be a few more hours before the dreadnaughts, which were to take the captured students to Ordo, would arrive. It wouldn’t take more than a few hours in total, after all. There wasn’t much in terms of fighting to be done. The Mandalorian troops under Kace’s command had been given very strict orders that none of the students were to be harmed in any way. The children were always precious to the Mando’ade, but these ones were particularly special. These children were to be the very first order of Mandalorian Knights.

Blue and Bronze sabers clashed as Masters Zhar Lestin and Dorjander Kace were locked in duel. Lestin was a pink-skinned Twi’lek male and was the headmaster of the training facilities on Dantooine. He was one of the few Masters in the facility at the time of the attack, and was the one in charge of the Masters efforts to protect the students.

“What do you think you’re doing, Kace!?” Master Lestin said between swings, blocking an attack incoming from upward. “This is an outrage! Why would you attack the Jedi here on Dantooine?”

Blades sizzled as each pushed against the other with equal strength. “I’m stopping an outrage, Zhar,” Dorjander grunted as he applied for force to his blade, hoping to overwhelm his opponent’s strength. “I’m stopping you from producing any more Jedi for the Republic!”

The lock of their blades finally broke, and Master Lestin moved in toward Kace’s shoulder with an attempt at a cho sun, but the armor he wore was of Mandalorian steel—one of the only materials in the galaxy which could withstand the blade of a lightsaber. Rather than slicing through, there was a loud electrical noise, sparks momentarily flying from the point of impact. Zhar had to brace himself not to let the failed hit disrupt his form so he would be able to block Kace’s attack which was incoming from the right.

“That makes no sense, Kace! But then again, you never did! You were always the one the most opposed among the Order to the Jedi entering the war… and when there was talk of working with the Revanchists, you chose to step down… only to join their movement yourself…. And now this!?” His words were broken between swings. Kace was a Jedi Master—one who had, no less, held a seat on the High Council. His skills in combat were nothing to be sneezed at.

Zhar had always found Dorjander’s choice to join the Revanchists movement to be laughable, but he had figured it must have been the ‘Mercy Corps’ which had attracted the old man. Apparently Kace’s ideas had been far more twisted than that. This was looking bad for the Jedi on Dantooine. The students here were too young and inexperienced to be expected to help, and the Masters were vastly outnumbered by the Mandalorian troops which had come with Kace. They needed to find a way to get the children to safety….

“Students,” the Twi’lek called behind himself, “Stay behind the Masters. Help will come!”

He inwardly winced at the thought. He couldn’t promise them that. After all, any support from off-planet Jedi would take at least a week to arrive, and there were no Republic troops stationed on Dantooine. But he had to hope. There was nothing else left if not hope.

The battle continued for a few more minutes, the students attempting to stay clumped together behind the Masters, who were all locked in duels with the Mandalorian Knights. The clumping made it a bit more difficult for the Mandalorians who were wearing jet packs to attempt to swoop down and take a Padawan from above and to succeed.

It was soon after that dark shadows loomed overhead in the sky. The Jedi stood stunned, many looking upward to see what was causing the shadows overhead. Above them loomed three Mandalorian dreadnaughts.

“Ah, right on time,” Kace said, deactivating his lightsaber. Master Zhar Lestin was too stunned at the goings on to attack anyway. “My reinforcements are here to take the students to their new academy… Jaska! Veskasa! Sabawyn! Take Lestin and the other teachers and bind them in the Council Chamber. Soldiers, I want you to escort the Padawans to the transports once they land.

Master Dorjander Kace turned to the Padawans, who seemed terrified at everything that was happening. He needed to reassure them. After all, it was for their own good and for the good of peace in the galaxy. He smiled warmly and touched the chin on a young Togruta student. “Don’t worry, Youngling,” he said as gently as he could. “This is all just a game. Not to worry, children. Your studies will continue uninterrupted—just in a different location and where you won’t be bound to a corrupt political system…”

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Bastila Shan had been heading to the grove to meditate when she heard the sounds of jetpacks, blaster fire, and lightsabers clashing begin. It startled her greatly. She had never seen a battle of any sort before. It frightened her, and she found herself running away from the academy as fast as she could, trying desperately to keep cover wherever possible. She didn’t know what was going on… why anyone would want to attack the Jedi Enclave… but she wasn’t curious enough to stick around and find out. She continued running and running… until she finally reached the grove.

The girl stopped clinging to her knees and panting heavily in an attempt to catch her breath. She didn’t know what to do. Even if she had her own lightsaber now, how was she supposed to help? She had only just begun training in the various forms. She stood no chance against someone who was trained in combat!

Exhausted, she collapsed into a seated position on the ground. Whatever this was, it was big! They had received no warnings of it prior, so it must have been a surprise assault, completely undetected by the Republic and by the other Jedi who were out fighting now in the war. It was the fact that such a thing could happen to a place where the Jedi trained, however, which made it all the more disturbing. If the enemy had managed to mask their presence in the Force, then the only possible explanation could be that they were using the Force themselves!

Bastila swallowed hard, a nervous lump forming in her chest. Could this have possibly been the return of the Sith? The only other possibility would be a Jedi turning on their own… but why would Jedi turn on other Jedi? What possible reason was there for any of this?

She rubbed her temples, shaking her head in confusion. No… No, she needed to calm down. She needed to think about all of this more logically. Since she had managed to escape from the site before the start of the raid, then there must have been some way that she would be able to help them from the outside. She needed to focus. She needed to clear her mind….

She took deep breaths and closed her eyes as she shifted herself into a meditative position, her feet folded underneath her. She allowed her body to relax ever muscle from top to bottom. Her eyes… her face… her neck… her shoulders… her hands… her spine… her feet…. All was relaxed. All was calm. All was focused. She needed focus. She needed to find a way!... A way to help…

Her breathing was deep and steady, a focus in her mind more intense than any which she had ever held before. Her focus was on a specific goal—and that goal was finding a way to stop the raid on the Jedi Academy. What she could not see as her focus intensified, were the glowing orbs of Force energy which began to form around her.

All she knew was focus. It was the focus which the Masters had sensed in her, and the reason why they had encouraged her to practice meditation so frequently. The thing which they had foreseen was finally beginning to manifest itself for the first time since the great Nomi Sunrider.

><><><><><

   Master Zhar Lestin, Master Dorak, Master Kreia Sana, and Master Quatra sat bound within the Council Chamber of the Dantooine Jedi Enclave. Force-restraint neural collars had been placed on each of them, so they would not be able to call upon the Force to free themselves and to interfere in the removal of the Younglings and Padawans. The situation looked rather grim.

   “Now what can we do?” Master Quatra said with a sigh. She was a Cathar woman with silver speckled fur and a white mane. Her intense green eyes were wild and untamed, yet oddly peaceful, as if she had found a sort of harmony between the warrior ways of the Cathar and the diplomatic and scholarly ways of the Jedi. “Without proper guidance, how are such young students able to resist temptations as they arise, as they grow in strength and in power…”

   “Now Quatra, you underestimate a child’s capacity to think for themselves,” Master Kreia stated.

   The Cathar’s ears flattened back against her head. “And you place too much faith in it,” she retorted. “Your recent students are a prime example. Wasn’t Revan one of yours? Kace and the others who attacked the Academy… they had left to join Revan’s crusaders. Are you certain that this attack was not your Padawan’s scheme? After all, it was the sort of so-called ‘thinking for themselves’ which you preached that encouraged her to originally defy the Council’s orders…”

   “Completely,” Master Sana said, her voice eerily void by emotion. “It’s not within my former pupil’s nature to kidnap children…”

   “That’s enough bickering,” Dorak said. “Right now we need to focus on how we’re going to get out of here for the well-being of all of the students. If only there weren’t these damned neural collars… I can’t sense anything that is going on with them. It’s like being completely blind!”

   Master Kreia let out a low, ironic chuckle. For, after all, the old woman was really blind herself. She found it moderately amusing that those with full access to all of their other senses should rely so heavily upon the Force to perceive the world around them.

   “This isn’t funny!” Quatra hissed.

   “Enough!” Lestin exclaimed, cutting them off again. “My Lekku are still unbound… Perhaps I can attempt to open the lock…”

   “It’s not likely to work,” Kreia stated. “The lock within the bindings is unlikely to be accessible by an appendage the size of a Lekku, and the force collars can only be removed by someone who currently has access to the Force…”

   “Unlikely or not, it’s at least worth a try… Unless you have any better ideas?”

   “By all means, go ahead. I, in the meantime, will meditate on this. There is much to this situation that we are perhaps missing… Someone will come. Force or not, that much I can sense…”

   “Crazy old woman! Praying is not going to change anything at a time like this. We need action!” Quatra said, shaking her head in disbelief at her colleague’s seeming indifference toward the situation.

   “You two are giving me a headache,” Dorak said, closing and opening his eyes slowly, as if to replace rubbing his temples in the absence of use of his hands.

   It was after a few minutes of Zhar Lestin fiddling with the cuffs using his Lekku that two sentients dressed in Mandalorian armor came crashing through the glass ceiling of the Council Chamber.

   “What the… Zayne!? Zayne Carrick!?” Lestin said in disbelief when the dust settled. There before them were Master Kace and former Padawan Zayne Carrick locked blade to blade.

   “Hello Masters,” Zayne managed through his teeth as he attempted to hold off Dorjander. “Sorry about the ceiling…”

   “I haven’t dueled in school in a long time son,” the Mandalorian Knight said with a chuckle. “I’ve gotten my practice ‘on the street’ so to say.” And with this, he kneed the younger man in the gut, knocking him away and breaking the lock of their sabers. “I’m sorry I can’t stick around to give your old teacher more of a demonstration, but I’ve got a ship to catch.”

   “No!” Zayne said, grabbing hold of the Master’s ankle. “You’re not going!”

   “Enough antics, Carrick! I’m sorry, but this has to end!”

   It was at this point that a Devarovian female dressed in Mandalorian armor jetted down to meet them, Blaster rifle poised for fire at Master Dorjander Kace. “I agree,” she said to him. “This ends now!”

   “Sornell,” Kace said, moderately confused by the tone of her voice. “I don’t understand… Have our other dreadnaughts arrived? Tell them to stop any ship that tries to leave the system, but no disintegrations! Our students are on board—we cannot risk them!”

   “There won’t be any disintegrations, Kace, because they’re not coming,” Sornell said bluntly. “I just received signal from Kra’ake—something about a case of ‘Jedi brain fever’?”

   “Jedi brain fever?” Kace repeated, scratching his head. “There’s no such thing…” He looked down at Zayne, who was still clinging to his ankle, and who gave a sheepish grin. Clearly the boy’s meddling had something to do with the situation…

   “Whatever… Anyway, after the breakout on the Parjai, the other chiefs agreed that messing with the Jedi is more trouble than it’s worth. The warriors here are stealing shuttles and leaving. They would rather win without your Jedi magic and without involving children. That was something you never did seem to understand, Kace. Yes, when our battles create orphans, we adopt them, but we don’t steal children from their parents or guardians.”

   Dorjander Kace gritted his teeth, reigniting the blade of his saber. “No! No, I have to finish this! I have to! Even if it means killing both of you!”

   “Your count is off by one,” Sornell continued calmly, placing a hand on her abdomen. “Haarm and I just learned that we’re expecting another child, but who’s counting? After all, you don’t care about children, do you?”

   “That’s not true,” Zayne interrupted from below. “He does care. You showed me, Kace. Remember? She’s right here in your satchel, where you always keep her…” And with this the young man reached into the older man’s satchel and pulled out the little yellow orb containing the hologram portrait of a Mandalorian woman. “Varda… A Jedi working for the Republic killed her and your unborn son… but is this really how you want to even the score? By taking someone else’s child away just like yours was taken from you?”

   Dorjander Kace froze, staring down at the little yellow ball of light as Zayne Carrick held it up toward him. Slowly, he deactivated his blade and then reached down to take it. He looked at the little image intently. He then looked at Sornell. In killing her, he would become no better than the very thing which he hated the Jedi and the Republic for…

   “Perhaps,” he muttered, returning his focus to the orb, “Perhaps this isn’t the way….”

   Dorjander Kace stood there, transfixed and seemingly transported, as if lost in memories of the past. Seeing his distraction, Zayne thought that this would be a good opportunity to go around and to release the Masters. He looked at Sornell who nodded to him in understanding and kept her weapon fixed on case in case there were any sudden movements. Once the Masters were released, Zhar Lestin approached the Mandalorian Knight, his saber in hand.

   “Dorjander Kace,” the Twi’lek said, “I am arresting you and your disciples on the basis of high treason against the Republic.”

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CHAPTER FIFTEEN: TOO CLOSE TO HOME (Part 5 of to 5)

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   Later that day, The Masters were taking a roll call to be sure that all of the Younglings and Padawans from the Academy had made it back safely. A Republic ship had come to pick up Kace and his followers and had taken them to Coruscant to be put on trial.

   Master Zhar Lestin looked around, double checking the information on his data pad and comparing it with those present in the room. He frowned. Someone was missing…

   “Padawan Bastila Shan?” He called. “Has anyone seen Padawan Bastila Shan?”

   “She was going to the grove just before the mean people came,” said one child. “Maybe she’s still there…”

   “Master Dorak?” Lestin said, turning to his colleague.

   “I’m on it,” the Chronicler said. Master Dorak was a keeper of the Archives at the Dantooine Academy, and was the Master mostly in charge of Padawan Bastila’s instruction while her primary Master was away on a mission from the Council. It was determined that the mission was too dangerous for Bastila to accompany, and so she had stayed behind on Dantooine to continue her studies in the meantime.

   Master Dorak set out for the grove where the Youngling had said he observed Padawan Bastila heading before the attack. There were wild beasts such as Kath Hounds on the plains that lead to the grove, but Padawan Bastila had already constructed her lightsaber, and Kath Hound attacks were relatively rare. Honestly, it was safer in the Grove than it had been recently at the Academy.

   He spotted her in the distance, but as he approached, he paused, observing her. That position, that aura…. His eyes brightened. This was a most interesting development indeed… He called out.

   “Padawan Bastila”

   The girl’s eyes flew open. “Master Dorak!” She tried to stand, but she was exhausted, drained from the extreme use of the Force she had been making, and collapsed.

   Master Dorak sprinted forward, scooping her up and helping her to stand. “Rest, Padawan,” he said. “You must be tired…”

   “The Academy,” she said tiredly. “Is the Academy safe?”

   “It is… and whether you realize it or not, I suspect that you had something to do with it… Come now. We have much to discuss. Your Master will be very pleased to hear of this when he returns…”

><><><><><

Hundreds of Senators from planets throughout the galaxy sat staring down at them along with spectators, jurors, representatives from the Jedi High Council, the Chancellor himself…. And the judge. In the center of the chamber, there on trial, stood the four Jedi who comprised the Mandalorian Knights: the Falleen Jaska, the Cathar Vaskasa, the Chagrian Sabawyn, and their leader, Master Dorjander Kace. Their wrists were bound, and each of them wore Force-Restraint neural collars around their necks to cut them off from use of the Force while in the Council Chamber—a security precaution.

“These traitors should be under the jurisdiction of the Jedi Council,” a Quermian Jedi representative stated, his long neck leaning inward toward the platform. “Not only are they members of the Jedi Order—one of them a Master—but they attacked the Jedi Enclave training facility on Dantooine. They tried to take the youngest of our Order…”

“When they attacked our armies, it was an act of treason,” Chancellor Tol Cressa stated. “Therefore, they fall under the Republic’s jurisdiction and not the Jedi’s.”

“And what of the ties of the Mandalorian Knights to the Revanchists?” another Master continued. “The Jedi Council moves that the Revanchists withdraw from the war. Their current involvement in combat, as lead to the issue with Kace and his disciples, is unsanctioned by our Order and goes against the banner of Mercy Corps by which they are being represented.”

“The Jedi involvement by the Revanchists is proving too valuable an asset for the Republic to deny,” the Chancellor protested. “We cannot afford to abandon their support at this time.”

“Objection!—” the Jedi began.

“Overruled,” the judge stated. “The issue of the Revanchists is not what is being presented on the floor at this time. If the Jedi Council wishes for a separate movement to be made, then they must do so at a later date in a separate hearing. In regard to the current case, the court recognizes the Mandalorian Knights as prisoners of the Republic, and therefore they will be tried under the Republic’s jurisdiction.” The judge turned his focus to the former-Revanchists-turned-Mandalorian-Knights in the center of the chamber. “The Court will now hear from the accused. Master Dorjander Kace, as their determined leader, do you speak on the behalf of all of the Mandalorian Knights when you plead your case?”

Master Kace glanced at his three former pupils now disciples who stood there with him on the platform in the center chamber. He knew that as their teacher and as their leader, he would be responsible for not only his own fate, but also theirs. Whatever outcome befell the fate of the Mandalorian Knights would be his responsibility. It was a possibility which he had accepted from the beginning. He returned focus to the judge.

“I do,” he replied to the judge.

“You may present your case then,” the judge said.

“Citizens of the Republic!” Kace began, addressing all those present, “My disciples and I appear before you today as a warning to all of you—not against the threat of the Mandalorians, but a warning against the threat of your own Republic and its corruption!”

There were gasps and murmurs throughout the chamber and many of the politicians stood in sharp protest, including the Chancellor himself.

“Treasonous words!” spoke the Chancellor. “I object to this speech!”

“Order!” the judge demanded, slamming his gavel down to silence the room. “The Chancellor’s objection is overruled. The accused has the floor at this time. Treason or not, they are Republic citizens and will therefore be permitted to present their perspective of their case.”

Without missing a beat, Dorjander Kace continued his speech.

“During the previous war with Exar Kun—the Great Sith War—I was a Mandalorian prisoner for some time. The Mandalorians fought against the Republic during that war as well. I was their prisoner. Their prisoner… And despite being a Jedi, being a Republic citizen, and being their enemy… the Mando’ade kept me as their prisoner rather than kill me after my capture. That’s what the Mandalorians do to all those captured in battle. They keep them as prisoners and give them each the opportunity to join the Mando’ade as fellow clansmen.”

It was true that many would think that joining the enemy side in battle was an act of treason and was completely unforgeable. But Mandalorians always gave the choice. They took prisoners rather than killing wherever possible—whenever an enemy signaled surrender. Prisoners were always welcome to make the choice to fight for the glory of Mandalore.

“My case was a little different,” Dorjander Kace stated. “You see, the Mandalorians are quite superstitious of Force users, and understandably so…. But one among them… she taught me of their customs… of their traditions and culture… and I began to understand their lifestyle. I….” he swallowed hard, bracing himself before continuing, “I loved her… It was not so uncommon then, you know, for a Jedi to love… Many Jedi were married, had families…. Such things have since been forbidden, and with good reason. But then…. Then, I loved her. I still do, I’ll admit. But Varda—that was her name—Varda is long gone… She was killed… She and our unborn child were killed in a bombing… It was a war… Bombings happen…. But this bombing wasn’t launched by Republic Officers or militia…. Not directly, at least. No…. This bombing was launched by a Jedi, in the name of the Republic…. Varda was a Mandalorian. She always knew that one day she would die in battle… but this… this was not a fair fight.”

He clenched his fist at the thought. “It is not the place of the Jedi to fight the Republic’s wars for them! Wars against common folk should not be fought with Jedi ‘magic tricks.’ The Jedi are defenders of peace and of the innocent! And when the Republic decided to exploit the Jedi’s abilities for other causes, they no longer qualified as innocents. My followers and I have decided that we will not continue to blindly serve the corrupted political system of the Galactic Republic! We signed on to serve in this war as members of the Mercy Corps. Had the Jedi’s actions in the war remained such as those representing a mercy corps, we would never have needed to take any action, but the allure of Jedi power was just too great for your Republic! You wish to harness that power to crush your enemies… Well we will not stand for it! If the Republic is to fight with Jedi, then the Mandalorians should as well!”

There were more murmurs and protests amongst the crowd before the judge called the chamber back into order. The defendant plead on and on, neither side wanting to concede, until Kace had been on pleading about the righteousness of the Mandalorian Knights for nine hours straight. In the end, it was all to no one’s benefit. Republic laws permitted Kace to tell his entire case before sentencing… but this did not mean that they enjoyed hearing it. It was determined that, for the next Jedi to be captured and tried for a similar treason, perhaps it would be better to let the Jedi deal with their own

><><><><><

Betrayal…

The word seemed to echo through Revan’s head. She hated it. It reminded her of the Voice and of the vision she had received, warning her about traitors in her midst… She had been unsure what to make of it at the time, given that the voice had also seemed to be threatening her, but now… now she was even less certain. If the voice had been warning her all along, then perhaps it were on her side after all…

But then again, perhaps it were all a ruse to gain her trust. She shuttered, remembering the mirror of herself consumed by darkness which she had seen in that same vision. Whatever the reason, this thing seemed to want her—to want to convert her to its cause, whatever cause that may be. But as Halin, she had always been quite stubborn. And as Revan, she had a cause of her own. The piece of her that remained Halin would not allow that to be changed.

But the war was still ongoing. And while it was, Revan could not rest. She could not rest until the Republic was safe… Until Mandalore was defeated… Until the Cathar were avenged…. As much as Revan would have enjoyed being at the trial of that traitor Kace herself, there was no time now for trips to Coruscant. Typically, the Jedi Council dealt with their own when it came to trial and judgement… but this… this was war. This was an act of treason against the Republic. Kace was the Republic’s prisoner, and not the Jedi’s, and this fact brought a sense of satisfaction to Revan.

The Jedi did not execute their prisoners, no matter what the crime. They would try to reform them, or in extreme cases sever them from the Force, as Nomi Sunrider had done to Ulic Qel-Droma, or they would put them into stasis chambers… But the Republic served justice for crimes. And the price of treason was death. For the blood of the Republic soldiers that the ‘Mandalorian Knights,’ as they called themselves, had spilled in the name of Mandalore the Ultimate, the traitors deserved no less than death.

It was already enough that Revan had been forced to attempt to salvage the reputation of the Revanchists in spite of the Mandalorian Knights. The Jedi Council still did not wholly agree with their actions since they had begun engaging in combat themselves, and some members of the Council had been looking for any excuse to recall the movement. While they had gained a few supporters among the Council, the majority remained wary of the Revanchists. This treachery by the Mandalorian Knights, whom had integrated themselves into the Revanchists for so long, had reflected on them quite poorly… and deep down, Revan did feel partly responsible… Responsible for not recognizing their deceit any sooner….

She would be certain never to make the mistake again. Whether friend or foe, the Voice had been warning her… and it was right. She would need to reevaluate things. To reevaluate those she allowed to join the Revanchists in the future… and perhaps those who had already joined. According to the voice’s warning, there would be another… Perhaps more…. but at least one other. The Knight. Beware the Knight, lest he betray you to be a sacrificial piece… in order to protect the King!...

She knew that she was the Queen… but who was the Knight? And if she were the Queen of both sides of the game, as the vision had implied… then whose King was she protecting? And for which King was she being sacrificed?

I had wanted to include this and the next part I'm posting together, but it was just barely over the character limit -_-' I'm not sure yet if this chapter will be in 5 posts or in 7. It depends on how long some of the sections end up being...

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: THE MANDALORIAN TRIUMPH (Part 1 of 5 to 7)

   Things had changed immensely since the day that Alex, now Malak, had gathered the Knights at the Academy on Dantooine to recruit for the Revanchists. They all understood (or thought that they had understood) what it would mean entering into war… but they were all so green when it had happened. Most of them had only been Knights for a year or so, and they had seen relatively little combat compared to the older and more experienced Knights and Masters.

Now, two years later, so much had changed. Many of them had seen more combat, more suffering, than anyone could have wished to have seen in a lifetime. But it would continue. It would have to continue if there would ever be any hope to an end of it all. It had become quite clear that, without their aid, the Republic armies wouldn’t stand a chance.

However, even with the aid of the Revanchists to the Republic, the Mandalorians continued to gain victory after victory. It seemed as if there were no end to the onslaught of this warrior race and their blight upon the galaxy. It was frightening to think what may happen to sentient life should the Mandalorians emerge victorious from this war…

Opela Moraf was on the training deck of the Infinitum, her silvery blade ignited as she reviewed her forms. It was important to keep at basic training when off the battle field, so as to better hone one’s skills to serve the moments in combat. She’d gotten much better since leaving Dantooine. She had to if she were going to stay alive on the ground. While she’d not had to do much personally in terms of close combat in the war, the possibility always remained.

She breathed deeply, focusing on her footing as she moved the blade of her lightsaber in calculated yet sweeping motions. It was a Djem So form which she was practicing—a useful form for counteracting the oncoming blaster fire she was likely to face if going up against a Mandalorian. The initial encounters with them had proven quite the challenge, since the neo-crusader armor was cast of Mandalorian steel—one of the few materials resistant to the blade of a lightsaber. Luckily, the Republic had managed to get ahold of a set of the neo-crusader shock armor to study after a particularly bloody battle on the planet of Myrkr.

Opela shuddered, thinking of the occurrence. It was a massacre, with over two thousand casualties in a single night. It had been one of the darkest moments for the republic in the war, outside of the planetary destruction witnessed on Serrocco and on Jebble. She had been on Serrocco personally when the attack had begun. It was a dark thought, and it haunted her. It made her realize the extent to which the Mandalorians were willing to go in order to achieve victory.

And yet, even through all of this darkness, there seemed to be light. After all, if it hadn’t been for Myrkr, the Republic might still not know how to effectively counter the Mandalorian neo-crusader armor… Even with great loss, there could be great gain. She only wished that there were more opportunities for alternative.

She was one of the few which Revan had continued to trust leading companies of the Revanchists after the betrayal by former Master Dorjander Kace and the Mandalorian Knights. Opela had known Revan relatively well before the war. After all, they had studied during the same time on Dantooine, and had been knighted together. But in the time since entering the war, she had become… different.

The Jedi who she used to know as Halin was changed… in some ways for the better, but in others for the worse. She’d become secretive and distrusting… even more so since the issue with Kace… but beyond that, she also had been having strange visions that seemed to affect her both mentally and physically, in some instances seeming to cause immense physical pain, as if they were not merely visions, but some sort of dangerous Force bond which had formed with an unknown outside source. It frightened Opela to think that such a thing could even be possible, and she was concerned as a friend for her health… It was something that Revan did not openly discuss, particularly with the newer recruits who had not witnessed it firsthand. From what Opela could decipher, it was an attempt to prevent the others from viewing potential weakness.

But the visions seemed to have stabilized as of late. When they had left from Coruscant the second time, one of Revan’s former Masters, Master Arren Kae, had joined them, agreeing to aid their leader in controlling the visions. Opela did not know anything of their training together, for they did not allow anyone to observe them when the group had still been together, and now that the Revanchists were divided, it would have been impossible to observe either way. Whatever this special training was, it seemed to have been working. It was good to see ‘Revan’ behaving more like Halin again and less like a frightened Iriaz calf cornered by a pack of Kath Hounds.

   The companies had shifted again. With the issue of the Mandalorian Knights, Revan had chosen to move the placement of members of the Revanchists. Malak was traveling in Revan’s company again. She seemed to trust him, and be more comfortable in his presence, and rightfully so. After all, the two of them had always been quite close during their training on Dantooine, and it had been Malak who had helped Revan through the strange visions before Master Kae had joined them.

   Opela wondered, however, if Revan comprehended why Malak behaved as he did. Being quite sensitive to the bonds between herself and others, Opela had noticed for some time that there was something unique about the bond which Revan and Malak shared with one another. It was more than mere friendship, it seemed, and she saw only far too clearly how Malak took this. The way he looked at Revan was with a sort of adoration that was much more than mere friendship. Opela had coaxed him into admitting himself these feelings to her that he had for their mutual friend.

   Malak had always been a nice fellow during their time at the Academy, albeit rather reserved. He’d struggled internally for a long time to come to terms with his own feelings on the matter. Opela had watched him work through discovering it and had given him some advice on the matter in how he might approach the then Halin… but it had seemed he still hadn’t been able to outright say it. Granted, with the war raging on, there were far more important matters immediately at hand, but perhaps this shift in positioning would allow him a second chance at his attempts… Even if the Jedi weren’t supposed to form emotional attachments, it was important for him to have the opportunity to admit them, lest the internal struggle of having them remain hidden eat away at him and at his restraint.

   Opela sighed at the thought and deactivated her lightsaber. She considered both of them as friends to her and didn’t want to see either hurt by a misunderstanding… The longer that the situation was put off for, the more it would intensify the more potential existed for something to go horribly wrong between the two of them. The sooner that Malak came out with it, or that Revan picked up on his feelings, the sooner it would be that the two of them might find peace,

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CHAPTER SIXTEEN: THE MANDALORIAN TRIUMPH (Part 2 of 5 to 7)

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Beneath the mask, a grin spread across Revan’s face as she stood back to back with Malak, the blue and purple blades of their sabers drawn. Surrounding them was a combination of sentry droids and Argazdan Myrialites, vibroblades drawn and weapons primed to fire. They were on Lorrd II, one of the moons of the Lorrd system, located within the Kanz sector. While located in the Outer Rim, the area itself had been so far unaffected by the Mandalorians in the war. The Kanz sector had its own set of disputes presently. The neighboring Argazdans had invaded the Lorrd system and had enslaved the Lorrdians, taking over everything.

While there had been motions in the senate for some time pushing to completely outlaw slavery within the Galactic Republic, the slave trade was still very much alive and thriving. Even beyond slave trade run by the Exchange, slavers such as the Crucible and certain branches of the Czerka Corporation were quite powerful and held much sway in the Galactic Senate, so much so that it was unlikely that the issue would be resolved for a very long time yet.

Malak had wondered, when Revan had brought them here, what their purpose was for visiting Lorrd. She’d been rather evasive about discussing the matter, but he couldn’t imagine that she would risk coming out like this in an area of civil unrest, provoking the powers in charge simply on a whim. There had to be some sort of explanation for the seemingly irrational decision. He dared not question her—he knew her well enough to know better than that—but it didn’t stop his wondering.

While he was glad to be by her side again, the circumstances were rather odd. She’d not told her brother Talon, the Commander of the unit of troops they were accompanying, the reasoning for Lorrd either… In fact, when he had questioned it, insisting as commanding officer that she tell him or he could not approve, she’d used the Force to influence his mind, convincing him to allow them to go regardless. Malak didn’t approve of this tactic of hers. He’d seen her do it once before to Telettoh, the Republic Captain who had been their liaison with the Mercy Corps.

What bothered him the most about it on both occurrences was that the trick hadn’t been on an enemy, but, rather, on an ally, and he couldn’t help but to wonder if she’d ever done the same to him…. But surely that wasn’t possible. After all, Malak was trained as a Jedi Knight, and his mind was conditioned against such simple tricks…

Their opponents lunged forward, and the pair assumed matching Soresu forms, keeping their backs together. Their blades swung, creating a barrier and keeping distance between them and their opponents.

“This is just like that time Master Lestin and Master Sana sent us to Thiulara and we got ambushed by that band of pirates while we were looking for their chieftain’s lost daughter…” Revan laughed, “except that they didn’t have so many droids.” As she was saying his, her blade cut through one of the machines which had adventured a little too close to the pair of Jedi while attacking.

Malak forced a laugh in reply. He didn’t completely understand how she could be so jovial while they were surrounded, but he did admit that it felt good to be fighting alongside one another again. His own blade disarmed one of the Agazdans with a downward motion before moving in an upward sweep and taking out another droid, the motion ending high above his head as he poised himself for another downward strike. His height gave him a power advantage when striking from above.

Revan switched the hilt of her blade to one hand, extending her free hand toward the mass. A purplish-blue static electricity sprung forth from her fingers, disabling the nearby droids in her view, many of which sputtered to the ground with a small crash, clearly beyond recovery without any serious repairs. The two were making good progress, despite the fact that they were very clearly outnumbered. Eventually, the droids were defeated, and the remaining Agazdans retreated.

Revan and Malak deactivated their sabers, each of them panting from the recent skirmish. Stepping over a pile of broken droid pieces, Revan entered what appeared to be the entrance to some sort of a mine. She motioned for him to follow her. “This way,” she said. “It can’t be far from here…”

“What can’t be far from here?” he asked. “You still haven’t told me why we came here in the first place…”

She turned back to him, reaching up and placing a single finger upon his lips. “Patience, my apprentice,” she said cockily. “All things in due time.”

He laughed in spite of himself when she removed her finger and turned back to the mine entrance. “You sound like Master Vandar,” he said, recalling the little green Jedi Master’s odd manner of speaking.

“Really?” she said, glancing back over her shoulder at him. “I was going for Master Vrook. I suppose I didn’t sound cranky enough to pull it off though…” And she turned back around.

“You’re really not going to tell me then?”

“Just trust me…. I had a vision—”

Malak’s face grew pale and he stopped. Sensing his distress, she turned her full body to face him. “What’s wrong?”

“The visions… I thought they had stopped… You sent Master Kae away with another company…”

“Arren is of no concern to you. An old friend of hers from Echani entered his troops into the war on behalf of the Republic, and it only seemed natural that she should go with them. I was happy to grant her request for change. She and I both agree that the visions will no longer be an issue. I assure you that I am fully in control of them now.”

“But the Voice,” he began to protest.

“I haven’t heard the Voice in months,” she shrugged. ”I’ve figured out how to block it. There’s no need to be so worried about me, Malak. It’s unbecoming of you.”

She turned away again and he could feel his cheeks reddening. He tried not to allow her insult of his emotions to get the better of him. “I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head, but following her anyway. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

“Relax. Don’t you trust me?”

He hesitated. “Of course I do.”

“Then why do you hesitate?”

“Halin…”

“Not Halin. Revan,” she corrected him, remaining surprisingly unfazed by his slip. Her attention was more focused elsewhere as they entered the mine.

He sighed. “Is it so wrong to worry about you?”

“It is when there are more important things to be focusing your attention on. This isn’t the Academy, Malak. Distractions like that can get you killed out here… Now, watch for mining charges. We don’t want to accidentally set any off if they happen to be active.”

   He gave up arguing the point any further and focused his attention toward detecting charges as she had ordered him. Perhaps now wasn’t the time after all… but he did wish that she would at least tell him when they were doing here.

   Eventually, they came upon a large group of slaves, working a section of the mines. The group seemed startled by the presence of the Jedi, but none of them made any sort of noise—only a series of facial expressions and odd body gestures.

   “What are they doing?” Malak asked as he regarded the odd humans in the tunnel with them.

   “They’re trying to communicate with us,” Revan replied. “I remember reading on Coruscant about the Lorrdians… or more specifically, about the Sisterhood of the Glorious Radiance….”

   “The what?” he asked, even more confused than before.

   “Shhh….” She hushed him, and she brought her fingers to her temples and closed her eyes beneath the visor of the mask, concentrating her thoughts on the group of frightened Lorrdian slaves which surrounded them.

   ‘You need not fear,’ she told them with her thoughts. ‘We mean you no harm. The Agazdans have fled. They’ve abandoned a ship on the north-west side of the pits. Take it. You are free to leave. Goddess will protect you.’

   The Lorrdians looked among themselves in disbelief before bowing many times in reverence and in thanks and then fleeing the mine. Once they had cleared out, Revan approached the wall and began running her hand along it as if she were looking for something.

   “Are you going to tell me now what this ‘Sisterhood of the Glorious Radiance’ is?” Malak asked as he watched her work her way along the wall.

   “It’s a religious monastic order of Vianism religion that worships the goddess Via… As it turns out, this ‘Glorious Radiance’ of their bears many similarities to what the Jedi know as the Force,” she replied. “Their followers generally wear long robes and masks to cover the scriptures which they’ve tattooed onto their bodies… They came to Lorrd II a few years ago to spread their teachings among the Lorrdians after the Agazdan Myrialites banned their teachings on the other Agazdan worlds… I figured I would blend enough that they wouldn’t question me…. You see, the Agazdan slavers don’t allow the Lorrdians to speak to one another, on punishment of death, so with the Sisterhood’s help, they’ve developed a sort of non-verbal ‘kinetic’ language…”

   “As fascinating as all of that is, it still doesn’t explain why we are here…”

   “Well, freeing slaves is good face for the Revanchists among both the Order and the Republic. But I’ll admit, while it’s a happy side-effect, this was not my primary intention in coming here… We are here for something I’d only heard rumors of…. I didn’t think it was real until I saw it for myself in the vision…”

   It was at this point that her hand stopped. She reached out with her remaining hand, pulling to her one of the discarded mining tools and carefully working at something in the wall before if broke off into her hands.

   “Catch,” she said, tossing the thing back to Malak. He caught it and turned it over in his hand. It was a lavender crystal of some sort.

   “What is it?” he asked.

   “A Lorrdian gemstone,” she replied, continuing her search along the wall for more. “When the Sisterhood taught the Lorrdians to use kinetic language, some of the Force-sensitive Lorrdians unwittingly imbued the gems they were mining with similar abilities. Supposedly if one were to use the gems in a lightsaber, they would be able to better read the actions of their opponent… This is all just speculation though. No one’s tested it out for sure…”

   “So we came all of this way for a crystal that might have some sort of special attribute to help read an opponent?” Malak couldn’t believe what he was hearing. A war was raging on and she had dragged him out here to the very edges of the Tingel Arm to go gem hunting for crystals that might not even have the abilities they were rumored to!?

   “No,” she replied plainly, continuing her search, “we came here because my vision said that we should. The crystals will work—trust me on that much. And with the stunt Kace pulled, we need all the positive reputation we can build…. Think of it as campaigning advertisements with an incentive backing.”

   Malak simply shook his head. “Has anyone ever told you that you think too much like a politician? It’s a little scary, actually…”

   “I frighten you now, do I?”

   “I never said that…”

   “You implied it,” she retorted.

   “Look… I’m just not convinced it was the greatest idea for us to come all the way out here for this. There must be more important things we could be focusing on right now…”

   “You could at least give me a hand, you know… There’s enough here that we can take a few of them… It will be good to have several just in case…”

   “I suppose it would be useful for each of the Revanchists to include in their sabers,” he said thoughtfully. It would surely bring a tactical advantage, after all—if they were to work.”

   “Not all of them,” she said flatly. “We still don’t know who else might betray us in the way that Dorjander Kace and his former students did, and we cannot risk that. They are to be distributed with the utmost discretion… I can count on you to not speak of this to any of the others, can’t I?”

   “You know I’m more than willing to keep secrets for you, Rev… but I still don’t like this.”

   “I never said you had to.” She stopped again, having located another crystal. “Now,” she continued, “are you going to help me or not?”

   “I suppose I don’t have much choice, do I?”

   “You do have a choice… but it’s rather unfair to let the lady do all of the work here, don’t you think?”

   Malak rolled his eyes and walked over to help her. He knew he wouldn’t hear the end of it if he didn’t. “Fine, fine… As you wish, Master,” he said, bowing mockingly. Suddenly, he felt some invisible Force knock him off of his feet, causing him to land on his backside.

   “Now, now, my Apprentice, you mustn’t be so clumsy,” Revan laughed.

   “Hey! What was that for?” he protested.

   “For being a nerf-herder,” she replied. “Now hurry up. I want to be able to head back before sunset. The sooner we finish, the sooner we can get back to the front lines. Talon is going to have a fit…”

   “Why did you trick him? He’s your brother.”

   “He was being rather frustratingly uncooperative. It was for the better. He’ll get over it eventually….”

   “You disobeyed your commanding officer…”

   “Talon knows he doesn’t command me. Those are only titles. Formalities…”

   “And if word gets out to higher powers?”

   “It won’t. Trust me on this. I know what I’m doing…”

   “That’s what I’m afraid of,” he muttered, and he got up to help her in the search for the Lorrdian gemstones.

><><><><><

I had intended for these sections to be longer, but in light of current events in the real world, I found it rather difficult to bring myself to the place required for Eres III and the events surrounding it. Perhaps in a rewrite there will be more, but for now this is as far as I dare go. On that note, I would like to dedicate this section in memory of those killed and missing in the current wildfires in California, and to those who are currently threatened by its ongoing wrath.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sections in Mandalorian were translated using the Coruscant Translator at MyRPG.org

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: THE MANDALORIAN TRIUMPH (Part 3 of 5, possibly 4)

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The holo image stood tall and proud, but while it was the very likeness of him, the blue transparent figure could not do the true splendor of Mandalore the Ultimate any justice. Though it could not be seen beneath his mask and armor, he was of the species Taung, and stood above average in height, even among those of his own race, though the holo projection did him no justice in that department. A war-tattered cape hung over the gleaming metal of his armor and his stance was wide and proud. He was quite an impressive figure to behold.

Regarding the holo image of the Mandalore was his right-hand man, Cassus Fett. Cassus was a human Mandalorian, but no less deadly for it. He’d been the one to lead many of the Mandalorian’s greatest victories during the war and the events leading up to it, including the Massacre on Cathar and the destruction of Jebble and the Rakghouls. With the loss of Jebble, however, some of the plans which he had helped to formulate for the Mandalorian conquests had been foiled. Jebble and the troops they had amassed there would have put them into position for an invasion on Alderaan. But plans changed. They adapted to fit circumstance and grew stronger. It was the Mandalorian way of life. Adaptation was survival. Without it, you wouldn’t live to see the next battle.

The two Mandalorians had been working on re-strategizing their conquest of the Galactic Republic. They need to work their way inward, toward the Core worlds. Once they reached the Core worlds, if they could take Coruscant, the Republic’s capital planet, they would be triumphant. And so it was this plan which the two were calling to discuss—The Mandalorian Triumph!

“Cuyir dajun tsikador at o'aryihida lo nari?” Mandalore asked. Is the plan ready to set into action?

“Cuun asalr cuyir nari lo naritir asas mhi jorhaa'ir.” Cassus replied. Our troops are moving into place as we speak.

“Ori'jate,” Mandalore said, nodding in approval. Excellent.

It was a two-pronged offensive push inward deeper into Republic space, toward the Core Worlds. The Republic would be forced to divide their forces in order to try to stop them, causing the strength of their armies to be weakened. Once they made their way inward, the Mandalorians would be in a better position to try to take Coruscant. When Coruscant was captured, there would be no resistance left from the pathetic Republic, and they would be forced to concede the war to the Mandalorians. The galaxy would belong to Mandalore and a new age would begin!

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“Everyone move!” Jedi Lieutenant Opela Moraf said, the silver of her blade moving in a flurry to deflect oncoming blaster fire as several Republic soldiers moved behind her. The Mandalorians were pushing inward again. The battalion that Opela was with had been close enough to manage to intercept them in their attempt to take Eres III, but things were not looking good at all, planet-side. They had not been expecting the attack, and so the troops gathered were rather last minute.

Their numbers and supplies were significantly lower than they would have been if there had been time to prepare the attack… but there were other battles going on in other parts of the galaxy as well. Additional support had to be divided to account for the multiple fronts. Other than Eres II, Sy Myrth was also under attack, and Sy Myrth was an important factory world. All that there was on Eres was Xoxin… Xoxin gas… Fields upon fields of Xoxin…

Xoxin was a natural substance, and harmless to inhale in its regular state. The plant life on Eres III thrived upon the Xoxin that came up from the Xoxin plains. However, the main problem with Xoxin was its flammability. If harnessed properly, Xoxin could be used as an excellent fuel source for a number of different varieties of ships and machinery… but the problem with Xoxin was its instability. The substance was highly flammable. It was the flammability which had resulted in the current dilemma the planet-side troops were facing on Eres III.

The Mandalorians had managed to turn the Xoxin into a weapon against the Republic. Many Mandalorian warriors carried with them flame throwers and had jet packs as a part of their armor. Whether the first instance was purposeful or by mere chance was entirely up to speculation from the Republic’s standpoint. They had no way of understanding the Mandalorians’ lust for battle.

It was mid-way into the battle when the first of the Xoxin fields was set ablaze. It had caught the Republic off guard, and they had been forced to hastily retreat from the area. There was no time for evacuations of the few settlements along the field. Civilian homes burned. Screams of agony echoed through the air as huge, billowing black clouds of smoke rose through the sky, which had turned to an orange glow, tinged with the light from the pyres…

Opela Moraf gritted her teeth, clutching at her breast with one hand while the other continued to work with her saber to deflect the oncoming fire as they made their retreat. She could feel them. She could feel their pain, their anguished deaths as they burned alive, victims of the very thing they had lived by peacefully for so long… and there was nothing she could do. She had a responsibility to the battalion. There was no time. She was to guide the soldiers to safety… and that was all she could do. To trade their lives for those of the citizens of Eres III.

After the first of the Xoxin fields had been set ablaze, it was not long before the others followed. It was a losing battle that they were fighting. All that they could hope for would be that their retreat would cause the Mandalorians to cease the havoc they were reigning upon the planet.

Death after death… she could feel them. She could feel them all. They were gradual, as the fires spread with no safe ground to make it to. Ona after another after another, over and over… Each one was like a small blow she felt in the Force. This planet… this planet’s presence in the Force felt fractured, and the fracture was slowly growing, increasing until the whole thing crumbled away into nothing but a pile of ash and rubble.

They were choking. They were choking on the smoke and the ash and the soot of the homes and corpses of the Eresians. Soon, there would be nothing left, but a blazing inferno of uninhabitable rock and an atmosphere of toxic fumes. It was either save the unit or let everyone perish attempting to save the civilians. It was Serroco all over again.

><><><><><

The multiple fronts continued, with the Republic’s forces divided, desperately attempting to decipher the Mandalorians seemingly random pattern of attacks. The fronts had some distance from one another and allocating the necessary troops and resources had become quite the task. At one point, the Mandalorians’ path of conquest even took a turn through Hutt Space, which had caused a great deal of difficulty and confusion for the Republic strategists.

   The only thing that they could tell for certain was that the Mandalorians were pushing inward toward the core worlds. Fortifications around Coruscant and other important core worlds had already begun. The Republic had decided that they could not risk leaving these worlds open to attack as the Mandalorians pushed inward. They would need so focus on one front at a time. Those companies not fortifying the core worlds would need to focus on only one of the seeming predictions for the Mandalorian course of offensive. They didn’t have the numbers to take on both sides without risking leaving the core world vulnerable.

   It was at Randon, a large business planet, that the Republic finally succeeded in halting the push of one of the Mandalorian offensive fronts. The effort had taken time though. And during the time it had taken, the second Mandalorian front continued to push core-ward with little resistance other than local planetary defenses. The second front had made it as far as the Colonies now, attacking Azure, then Contruum, followed by Gizer, Nazzri, Vena, Ambria, Zel, Commenor…

   The path was still unclear. The Republic commanders had expected the Mandalorians to turn toward Alderaan after the Zel system, but Commenor had caught them off guard. Their next guess was either that the move was a feint, and that they would turn back again toward Alderaan, or that they would head for the nearby Kuat next…

   Strategies and patterns of attack were re-formulated. It was important to stop Mandalore’s army before they reached Coruscant, or the Republic was lost. The threat which they had ignored in the Outer Rim Territories for a decade before was finally knocking on their front doorstep and threatening entry. No one had expected it to come this far… And no one was certain any longer as to what the final outcome would be.

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CHAPTER SIXTEEN: THE MANDALORIAN TRIUMPH (Part 4 of 5)

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It was one of the first large-scale meetings of the Revanchists in some time. In a way, it reminded Revan of the times when she had previously had an audience in the Grand Council Chamber on Coruscant. All of the members were not together in person. They were connected via holo transmission from their various unit locations. Their numbers had decreased again, not just with the betrayal of Kace and the Mandalorian Knights, but also because some had been lost in battle to the Mandalorians. Sixteen had become twelve, and then nine. They were growing scarcer, and yet the Republic’s need for them had only increased with the time.

Malak stood at Revan’s side aboard the Nemesis during the Revanchists call. Also in the call were Master Arren Kae aboard the Echani vessel the Bastion with General Yusanis’ fleet, Opela Moraf aboard the Infinitum, Ferroh aboard the Divine Intervention, the Iridonians Acaadi and Duqua Dar aboard the Dark Phoenix, and Xaset Terep and Cariaga Sin aboard the Development. While their numbers were few, those who remained had proven themselves to be instrumental to the success of the Republic war effort. They had joined the Republic on many fronts, and while there were certainly losses, they would have no doubt have been worse if the Jedi had not been there.

This, however, was not enough. The Mandalorians were gaining ground far too rapidly, and the threat was increasing with every second that they might overtake the Galactic Republic and send the galaxy into a new era ruled by their bloodlust. They needed to find some way of halting the Mandalorian offensive once and for all. As long as the war had remained in the Outer Rim Territories, it had been manageable. But as they moved inward toward the Core World, planets were more densely populated, and the risk of damage to the Republic infrastructure increased.

But while the ultimate goal was obviously Coruscant, the Mandalorian path to the Galactic Capitol planet remained unclear. It was troublesome not only to the Republic war strategists, but also to the Revanchists. It was impossible for the Jedi to effectively aid the Republic if their positions were incorrect. Ordinary people expected the Jedi to be able to predict such things, but the truth was that there were no great seers left among the Order after the tragedy involving the Draay Estate. While it was not terribly uncommon for Jedi of all strengths to receive ‘visions’ from time to time, the inherent ability to manifest these visions of the future at will was quite rare and required years of training as a seer.

While Revan did still occasionally receive the visions which had plagued her at the start of the Revanchists journey, she had yet to discover how to manifest them at will. This was largely the reason for her insistence upon tracking whatever leads came within them whenever she did have them. Even when they had been haunted by the sound of the Voice, they had served as reliable warnings for the future up to this point, and so she felt it important not to ignore them. After all, they needed every scrap of advantage that they could get….

But since her vision of the crystals on Lorrd II, there had been no such luck of the visions appearing to her. She had wondered if it were in part due to no longer having the guidance of Master Kae during meditation sessions, and had considered asking her teacher to return to her company, but with their numbers so scare, she could not afford to recall anyone, especially not one of Arren Kae’s level of experience… No, she would have to manage on her own. Somehow, she would have to figure out a way to compensate on her own…

The Lorrdian gems which Revan and Malak had retrieved from the mines on Lorrd II remained with them aboard the Nemesis. No one else knew of them at the moment, and perhaps that were for the better. She’d considered the possibility of attempting to use the crystal’s power to enhance the deepness of meditative trance in attempt to provoke visions into manifesting themselves, but the endeavor had proven to be unsuccessful thus far.

It was a bit ironic when she thought about it. The Mandalorians were so superstitious and distrusting of ‘Jedi magic tricks’ and would rather rely on their own warrior instincts… and yet here she was, foolishly attempting to use the same ‘Jedi magic’ to predict what their war paths were. Perhaps it were all silly and she should go back to looking at physical tactics. But the tactics she had learned for positioning troops were specific to individual battles. They were of no use whatsoever if it were impossible to tell where the battle was going to take place.

She regarded the faces of those present via the holo communication. Each member of the Revanchists had changed since entering the war, and perhaps not for the better. Ferroh seemed gnarled and tired, his fur unkempt and eyes dim with the knowledge of the planet-wide genocide against his people. Opela, who had always been so warm and full of hope, seemed distant and vague, as if trying to forget the horrors she had witnessed. And Malak, who had always followed Revan like a loyal Kath pup before, had become visibly wary of some of his friend’s behavior.

Revan had attempted to pretend that she didn’t notice this behavior from him, but it was growing increasingly difficult. She could feel the strain which it had been causing on their friendship as of late, and it was beginning to startle her. She couldn’t help but to wonder if perhaps it were her own fault rather than the fault of the war. After all, she knew that she had changed much from the person he’d known on Dantooine. She was no longer Halin Chan. She couldn’t be. Just as he could no longer be Alex Kharr.

The only person who seemed relatively unchanged was Arren Kae. Somehow, the older woman had managed to remain at peace, despite the horrors which they all had faced. Revan was eternally grateful for this. Master Kae was like a calm in the storm of the war. She was a level head when thoughts of the situation seemed to grow increasingly irrational. Perhaps this was the necessary wisdom which marked a true Master among the Jedi…

It was decided in the call that they would stand by and await orders. It was all that they could do, after all. At least they knew that the Mandalorians were headed Core-ward. Where precisely was still a mystery, but there was only so much of a spectrum of possibility. If they could position themselves accordingly, then no matter where the Mandalorians chose to strike next, the Revanchists would be there with the Republic to bring them to a halt. After all, the Mandalorians were not without losses themselves. And while they continued to recruit from each conquered planet along their path, surely they would eventually begin to feel the toll on their numbers, especially in the Core Worlds where Republic fortifications were at their strongest.

When the transmission ended, Revan removed her mask and let out a sigh, allowing the cold repurposed air of the ship’s internal atmosphere to wash over her natural features. It had been some time since she’d done so, and she’d almost forgotten what it felt like. It felt crisp and clean against her skin. She closed her eyes, drinking it all in.

Malak approached her from behind, reaching out a hand for a moment as if to rest it on her shoulder, but he stopped himself. He couldn’t help but to be afraid… Afraid that the end was drawing nearer for all of them. The possibility of Mandalorian victory in this war was increasing with every day, and the number of Revanchists who remained with them was decreasing. He’d heard from Talon about Revan’s near-death experience in the Thustra system when she and Kae had attempted to re-take the supply depot. What troubled him most about this, however, was not her resulted injuries from the incident, but the fact that she’d not bothered to even mention it to him on her own.

He’d sensed a disturbance when it happened, as he had since found out, but had been unable to make contact until several weeks after, at which point she had assured him that all was fine. It was after transferring back into the same company as her that he had taken it upon himself to get the full story from her older brother as to what had happened.

“Revan?” he dared to say, even though his hand dared not to touch.

She turned to him and for a moment, he was at a loss for any further words. It was the first time in over a year that he had seen her face beneath the mask. And while the mask was all Revan, those eyes still belonged to Halin. He swallowed hard, speech refusing to escape from his throat. Despite this time, despite all of the change… beneath it all she was just as he had remembered her. The same blue-gray eyes, the same raven hair, the same pink of her lips drawn in a neutral yet expectant expression as she waited for him to continue after having addressed her.

“Yes?” She said, looking up at him.

He took a breath and managed to continue. “I need to talk to you… I have questions, and I need you to answer them for me…”

Her brows knitted together, and her expression changed to a frown. “What sort of questions?” she asked.

“You’ve been hiding things from me lately. Why?”

“Have I? I hadn’t noticed…” she lied, and attempted to turn and re-mask, but Malak caught her wrists and gently took the mask from her, setting it aside before taking her hands pleadingly in his own. She did not fight him. His actions intrigued her. She turned back to him, waiting and listening to hear what he had to say.

“Talon told me what happened on Thustra…”

“It is not Talon’s place to speak on such matters.”

“Why didn’t you tell me, Revan?”

“I didn’t want you to worry unnecessarily. After all, I’m still here, am I not?”

“That’s not the point…”

“Had anything actually happened, you would have been the first to know, Malak. You know very well that I would want you to take command of the Revanchists should I die before this war is over.”

“How can you talk like that?”

“The possibility has always existed for all of us, Malak. I am no more immune to it than Tavlon, or than Hazar, or than any of the others who have not been so lucky as we have been so far. Trust me when I say—”

“There you go again,” he interrupted her. “’Trust me’… I do trust you, Revan, more than you perhaps you understand… but trust works both ways! And it’s very clear lately that you do not trust me.”

Revan paused at the thought. He continued:

“It seems as though you hardly trust anyone anymore… Not the Council, not the Republic, not your brother, not the other Revanchists… but I’ve known you for most of both of our lives. We’ve been friends for a long time, Rev… Why do you feel you need to keep secrets from me?”

She sighed. “Mal… sometimes the truth can be a difficult thing to understand… I’m only trying to protect you…”

“I don’t need your protection. I can handle myself… Sometimes I do think though that you’re the one who might need protecting—”

“Why? Because I’m a woman?” She said, rolling her eyes. “Malak, I don’t need you to start patronizing me now simply because I got hurt. In case you’ve been asleep lately, it’s a war. People get injured. People die. Planets burn. Sacrifices are made. Get over it!”

“The thing you need protection from is yourself, Revan! Listen to what you’re saying!” He said, his eyes leering with fire as his face reddened.

Their eyes met, neither one intent upon giving up any ground. Revan attempted to pull her hands away, but Malak held them tighter, intent upon having her respond to him clearly. It was a serious matter, which concerned him greatly, and he needed her to treat it as such.

“Let go of me,” she demanded.

“Not until you start answering me clearly! I know you. I know you well enough to know that you’re hiding something. Halin wouldn’t stand by idly awaiting orders from Republic Captains about the next course of action, and neither would Revan, for that matter. I know you. I know that you’re planning something. You’ve still not said anything to them about the crystals from Lorrd. Why? You continue to ignore Talon’s orders even though he is the one in command of this battalion. Why? What crazy scheme are you hatching in that pretty little head of yours?”

“As your Master, I demand that you let me go!” she said, pulling harder.

“Fine,” he said, letting go of her abruptly and throwing his arms up into a pose of surrender. The sudden release had cause her off guard, and she fell backward under the weight of her own efforts. He knelt down and held a hand out to her to help her back up. At first she refused, her pride not wanting to allow for any assistance, but it was difficult to get back up on her own under the weight of the Deralian armor, and so she eventually conceded.

He continued to hold her hand after the fact, but more gently this time, brushing her slender gloved fingers with his thumb. He wanted to remove the glove, to feel her skin against his own, but that would have been too much. “I’ve followed you until now without questioning,” he said, the tone of his voice matching the gentler tone of his actions, “but you can’t expect me to continue doing so if you’re going to leave me in the dark. I want to help you, Revan. It’s why I came with you in the first place. But you have to let me do so…”

She sighed, turning her face downward to look at the floor. Cautiously, he took his free hand and slipped it under her chin, turning her face upward to look at him again. Her flesh was warmer than he had remembered it to be, he assumed from the number of layers she was constantly wearing. He resisted the urge to touch her cheek, her lips… She was so much closer now than she had been in a very long time… and yet she felt so distant still.

He could feel her beginning to tremble and swiftly withdrew his touch. The physical contact seemed to be making her uncomfortable… To his surprise however, it was she who reached back out and took his hand again before continuing to speak, grasping it firmly and securely as she did.

“Perhaps I’ve been unfair to you,” she admitted. “You’ve never wished me ill before… I promise I’ll try to be more open with you in the future… Starting now.”

He regarded her with curiosity.

Hesitantly, she began explaining. “I… I had an idea… I don’t know if it will work or not, but I have to at least try… I think I’ve figured out a way to manifest the visions at will… I think I can use the crystals from Lorrd as a catalyst… I think that… if I can render the conditions just so… I can figure out where the Mandalorians are going to strike…”

“It’s a risky move,” Malak replied. “Even with Kae’s training, if something goes wrong, what if the Voice should return?”

She nodded, accepting the thought of possibility. “That’s why I need help… I need you to be there to break the trance in case something should go horribly wrong… I can’t control what happens to me when I am in that state… I’m more vulnerable to threats from the outside… and fom within.”

Malak furrowed his brow. “What are you implying?”

“Kace betrayed us to fight for the Mandalorians,” she said. “What if there are others like him whom we do not know about fighting on their side? Other Mandalorian Jedi… It is possible for another Jedi to enter one’s mind when they are in such a state…”

“Now I think you’re just being paranoid…”

“Am I?”

“Yes… Revan I’ll be there to help as I can. I promise that if there’s any sign of something about to go wrong, I’ll help you break the trance…” And with this, he forced a smile. “Trust me,” he said, giving her hand a little squeeze.

The irony of the statement caused her to laugh a little, a smile spreading across her lips, and she squeezed his hand back. “I guess I owe you that much… Thank you, Malak.”

“Thank you for agreeing to trust me.”

><><><><><

Quote from: Lord_S_Gray on November 20, 2018, 10:39:07 PM

Let the galaxy burn….In some ways the Mando’s seem like a kind of swarm of locusts that periodically assails the rest of the galaxy, like they are simply a force of nature that ebbs and flows every now and then, ultimately always pushed back because if they really did win, I’m not sure they would know what to do next…except perhaps dissolve into factional mini-kingdoms constantly at war with each other so they can keep finding glory in battle…

A little feedback that meeting at the start of part 4 was very strange to read…you have everyone assembled via holo and then Revan reflects on them…then it just sort of finishes and no one actually says anything-

I get the focus was on Rev/Malak post the meeting but still I think it would’ve been much better as actual dialogue between each of the Revanchists in turn with Revan reflecting on how each had changed as they speak, it just seemed really weird to have an assembly like that and not show the dialogue which could’ve delved into the detail rather than having the text as blocks. The ultimate conclusion that she ‘couldn’t be Halin Chan’ after such experiences even if she wanted to was a very good conclusive point but got a bit lost in there.

Opela’s section in part 3 was quite good …getting really into the gritty action would be great to see more of that -the subsequent reference to Thustra just made me wonder what happened there that we didn't 'see' – I’d recommend checking out Dutchmans Schisms from about chapter 16 onward for some great examples of how to do some combat scenes in open war that also mix in some deeper reflections - might give you some ideas!

[url]http://www.saberforum.com/index.php?topic=38018.msg639062#msg639062[/url] ([url]http://www.saberforum.com/index.php?topic=38018.msg639062#msg639062[/url])

But yeah just my opinions anyway!

You mean revert back to the warring clans before they were united under one Mandalore? ;) 'Tis possible... unless they were fighting the wriong war and only thought they won. DUN DUN DUUUUUN

Yes, I thought of that after the fact. It's in the list of things to add in for the rewrite. Originally the Revan/Malak business was going to take place somewhere else, but then I realized it would make a nice lead-in to the last part of the chapter (which isn't up yet)... but when I added it in I got distracted and forgot to include the meeting business. Whoops...

I'll definitely take a look at Dutch's work for writing for combat (It's always been my personal weakness,since I generally like to act out the scene as I write to imagine the natural flow; this method makes writing combat scenes rather difficult for very obvious reasons). Eres III in particular though was more challenging than it should have been due to the unintentional yet unavoidable parallels to current events. In the past when I've attempted to use these sorts of situations to fuel the parallel action, it's caused me to get stuck in very dark places mentally that I would rather avoid if I can, for the sake of my own sanity. Perhaps that's selfish of me, but I'm not ready to go there at this specific moment in time...

"Schisms" will, I'm sure, be great research for the rest of Part I though, now that they're entering the more involved full on heat of the war. I'm actually looking forward to doing the eventual Revan/Mandalore duel (I feel like single combat is a lot easiest to realize than an individual's view on a full battlefield). There *is* one scene that's already fully developed in my head, but that's not until the beginning of Part II... That one I'm also looking very much forward to. I've had so many ideas for Part II lately, but know I need to wait in case something in the rest of Part I causes a shift in my vision for Part II... I'm hoping I can finish up the initial write for part I by the end of the year and launch Part II in January.

As for Thustra.... I did a general outline of the goings on in the previous chapter in the part with Revan and Arren. I considered then going back and re-doing the scene, but realized if I did, I would have to completely re-do the existing section to avoid total redundancy. It's something I'll certainly consider for the re-write, especially since it could have some interesting developments for the relationship between Kae and Revan as Teacher and Student. Adding in the bits with Malak and with Talon, it would allow for the Force nature of the "bond" Opela sensed to be explored and there would probably be enough content that it could stand alone as a chapter in the rewrite... I'll add it to the list of things to include in the rewrite.

The last section of this chapter is about half written. I was hoping to finish before I fell asleep tonight, but I'm so tired I'm not sure that will be possible. If anything, this weekend is a long weekend for the holiday in the States, so I have lots of time to get caught up after my month long hiatus from writing. Gotta get back on track if I'm going to be able to start Part II for New Years! Part I is 31 Chapters in the outline, so I'm past the half way point now and Chapters 18 through 24 should all be pretty straight forward in terms of writing...

OK, now that I'm completely caught up with this story...

First off: WONDERFUL job taking canon and truly making it your own, LR! Frankly I think that the legend of Revan is made all the more poignant after reading this iteration, not to mention that having the additional conflict involving Malak's burgeoning feelings towards Revan makes for EXCELLENT pathos! Reminds me of Dune: "circles within circles" indeed ;)

While I'm fairly familiar with much of Revan's story, this feels entirely original, where the Easter eggs make me feel like I'm privy to insider information. And my compliments LR on the emotional scenes, some standouts that come immediately to mind: Halin's rediscovery of her relationship with her brother; when she becomes the Revanchist; the near-genocide of the Cathar; Malak's torture--and Halin's/Revan's reaction in learning about it--at the hands of Demagol; the betrayal of the Mandalorian Jedi; the apathy of the Jedi Council; Revan taking the mask&name; the unresolved sexual tension between Revan and Malak (I can't WAIT to see what happens that makes them...um, well I don't want to give anything away to those readers who are unfamiliar with the story; shall we say their inability to get together ;)).

Another point that separates LR's iteration (and of course I love this next part): the inclusion of the Mak'Tor & the Song! Bringing them into the narrative--especially in relation to the Voice and Revan's visions. This was just too awesome when I read it :D

Quote from: Lord_S_Gray on November 20, 2018, 10:39:07 PM

Quote from: Lord_S_Gray on November 21, 2018, 05:47:22 AM

Yeah it can be hard to know what to zoom in on in something as grand as a galactic scale war…zoom out too far and it loses its impact…zoom in too close and it does the same but in a different way. I don’t think anyone ever really can tell what works and what doesn’t till you try…and even then….

But ultimately it needs to be about the characters, so when in doubt go with the person centred approach I think – Dutch does this by having non central (often 1 chapter) characters experience of the war which I think works well to broaden the scope to a large scale but keep that person focus- add in a tangent to a main character and bam there you go.

Anyway as you progress I’m sure you’ll work out your own way of managing different sections and foci. Take your time with it usually get better result in the end!

That one of my fellow writers would give me such praise is an honor. Thanks LSG!

But to be fair: those chapters concerning periphery characters were a synthesis between an idea that LSG had floated my way and some stray thoughts about how best to proceed with the narrative. I can honestly say that LSG's insight really gave vital breath to what I was trying to pin down from the aether (no pun intended ;)).

With all that said: I canNOT wait for the next part of this story! Kudos to you LR!

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General Chat => Fan Fiction and Art => Topic started by: Lady Revan on September 24, 2018, 05:26:42 AM