10.
Wex spent the entirety of the trip back to Coruscant grilling Zyn on what exactly he’d be taught. Zyn did his best to vaguely answer, as he really had no idea where to begin in training the young man. Certainly combat training was a must, but so too were the dangers he would face by simply dabbling in the Force. Without a doubt, the dark side would tempt the mercenary to walk its path, just as it was doing to his master, however could Zyn really keep his companion from it while he himself continued to do so?
“The first thing you’ll need to acquire is a weapon,” Zyn finally told him after the onslaught of questions began to cease. “Jedi normally build their lightsabers after mining a kyber crystal.”
“Where am I going to find one of those?” Wex interrupted.
“Ilum’s mines house the source of the Jedi’s crystals, however the planet is highly guarded against outsiders.”
“Then I take it we won’t be going there,” Wex laughed, but Zyn chose to ignore his comment.
“We’ll get it sorted out and you’ll need more than that crystal to construct a lightsaber. In the meantime, I want you to stay on your guard and do your best to keep your emotions in check.”
Zyn knew it was ridiculous to expect of Wex what he himself could barely control. His entire life had been a testament to the trouble emotions lead to, yet he was powerless to change himself. Luckily, the mercenary didn’t call him on his hypocrisy, but the look on his face gave Zyn the sense of apprehension in his newfound apprentice.
“Approaching Coruscant,” Arby’s voice said over the ship’s intercom.
“What do you think we’ll find down there?” Wex asked, changing the subject for the better. Instead of answering, Zyn decided to test the trainee’s Force senses.
“Why don’t you tell me?” Zyn asked. “Reach out with your feelings and tell me what comes to you.”
To Zyn’s surprise, Wex let a small smile slip before taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. He sat extremely still, almost statue like as he attempted to reach out with the Force. As the seconds became minutes, Zyn wondered how long his companion would continue this attempt before calling it quits.
If credits were to be put on Wex’s success, Zyn would’ve bet everything he had on his apprentice coming up empty. Almost a year it had taken him before he felt the slightest inkling of an upcoming situation, much to his chagrin. Even as his training continued, Zyn felt his insight had never developed much more than that, but after his recent success with the Force, perhaps a different technique would leads to better results.
“I feel…” Wex started, but trailed off to further concentrate. Zyn’s impatience made a return, but before he could reach out himself, Wex continued. “There’s a lot of noise.”
“Focus your thoughts,” Zyn instructed. “Pinpoint the important, discard the useless.”
Focusing his own thoughts, Zyn reached out to get an answer for himself while leaving Wex to navigate the finer points of Force Sense himself. The first thing he noticed was Wex was speaking the truth. With countless people on the planet below, the cacophony of life made it difficult to pinpoint anything with accuracy. Focusing his own thoughts to the Jedi temple itself, he was hit by an overwhelming sense of despair.
“There!” Wex said, interrupting Zyn’s thought. “I feel it. Confusion, anger, and sorrow. Something terrible has happened.” Springing to his feet, Zyn hurried to the cockpit to see the ship was already entering the atmosphere.
“How long before we land?” he asked Arby after opening the door.
“Minutes,” the droid replied. “We’re on approach to Docking Bay Eighty Four.”
“Make it Centralia,” Zyn muttered to himself. “I don’t want to attract any attention.” The Centralia Memorial Spaceport was one of the oldest spaceports on Coruscant, and seldom used, except for the Jedi, which meant it was close to the Temple itself.
“Roger, roger.”
As the ship closed in on the docking bay, Zyn felt a nervousness arise within him. It had been over a year since he’d set foot in the Jedi Temple. In truth, he didn’t know what to expect. Would they even listen to what he had to say? Or would he be arrested for what had happened at Kuat? The only feeling he was getting from the Force was a somber tone, one of an insurmountable sadness lamenting an indescribable tragedy.
Making his way back to Wex, Zyn found his apprentice still seated, but no longer meditating. Instead, he wore a look of concern, almost mirroring the sadness he felt as the ship slowed to a stop. Not a word was spoken between them as they were jarred by the impact of the ship landing on the pad.
“I want you to wait here,” Zyn told Wex as he approached the loading ramp, now extending itself down from the ship.
“Why?” Wex asked, springing to his feet to join his master.
“Because I’m not sure what to expect. I sense trouble, and seeing as neither one of us is a member of the Order, it will be especially dangerous if they find out I’m giving my knowledge of the Force to an outsider.” Zyn turned his back to Wex and began to exit the ship.
“But how will they know?” Wex asked, jogging to catch up.
“The Masters of the Order are far more powerful than you realize,” Zyn explained, coming to a stop at the bottom of the ramp. “They can sense Force-sensitives from worlds away. I wouldn’t be surprised if they realize we’re here already.”
Drawing his hood up around his head, Zyn turned on his heel and began his walk toward the Temple. He tuned his ears to the environment, expecting to hear a set of footsteps running up behind him to keep up, but they never came. Wex, it seemed, was following orders better than Zyn ever did. Reaching the exit to the hangar, the doors parted, allowing him to exit into the busy Coruscant evening.
The sun had set long ago, bathing the city scape in darkness and reflecting his mood perfectly. As he walked, his thoughts swirled about what he should expect. If luck was on his side, he’d only be turned away and forced to continue his search for answers on his own. If they let him in, he’d finally be able to confront Seela about what exactly the mission she’d sent him on was all about.
The idea of seeing her again brought even more uncertain. Was she in on the setup? Given their history, the thought was absurd, laughable even. They’d been close friends for many years, and she’d even saved his life, so what sense was there in sending him into a setup? Once again, Wex’s thoughts of making the Jedi look bad in the eyes of public came to mind, but that explanation didn’t make sense either. As his thoughts swirled away, Zyn continued to walk, oblivious to all around him until he turned a corner and found himself on the edge of the Temple Plaza. What he saw froze him in place.
The plaza itself, normally buzzing with people walking in all directions no matter the time of day, was completely barren, save for a squad of clone troopers appearing to guard the Temple itself. Turning his eyes upward, several columns of smoke snaked their way skyward from various towers. Zyn found his jaw hanging open at the sight, and after putting it all together, he could only come to one conclusion: the Temple had been attacked. Rushing across the empty plaza and up the stairs, he was quickly hailed by the troopers, several of whom seemed to ready their weapons as he approached.
“Halt!” one of them said with an outstretched hand.
“What happened here?” Zyn asked as he came to a stop at the top of the stairs.
“There’s been a rebellion, but it’s under control,” the trooper explained. “Please return to your home.”
“I’m looking for Jedi Padawan Seela Me,” Zyn explained. “It’s extremely important that I find her.”
“You’ll not find her here,” the commander said with certainty in his voice. “It’s time for you to leave.”
“If I could speak to one of the Masters…” Zyn started, but all eight of the soldiers raised their weapons.
“This is your final warning. Leave now or you will be fired upon.”
The nagging sensation of wrongness returned, and with it, Zyn felt his frustration swelling. He was so close to getting an answer, only to be turned away under threat of death. Annoyance became anger, but rather than run at the guards head on, as he’d wanted to do, he instead raised his hands slowly.
“Fair enough,” Zyn remarked.
Slowly raising his hands, he noticed half of the guards relax their weapons while the others did not. This wasn’t a battle Zyn was likely to win, at least at face value. Deception would be needed, and a bit of luck as well, but seeing as the element of surprise was on his side, he figured his odds of succeeding were more than enough to take the chance. As he took a single step back down the stairs, the rest of the guards lowered their weapons, save for one.
In a flash, he produced his lightsaber, activating the blade and charging back at the troopers. One blaster bolt was deflected into the nearest target, sending him down as Zyn began striking at the rest of them. The first swipe managed to down two and wound a third as the others began firing wildly. Deflecting the bolts with a speed he didn’t know he had, he took every opportunity to close on the remaining troopers and attack when he could.
The ice in his veins quickly returned and had the same effect as before, giving him strength and filling him with the familiar sense of invincibility. Several times, he’d felt his blade move on its own, as if the weapon itself were in control instead of its master. Left, right, thrust, spin. He moved faster than he ever had before, the Force guiding his actions and allowing him to dispatch the elite soldiers with lightning speed as the amber blade danced in wide arcs around him.
When it was over, the plaza fell back into eerie silence. Downed troopers stared up at him through their expressionless helmets, bringing the memory of his Trial back into his mind. He remembered the countless eyes looking skyward, all of them killed by the orange-bladed saber in his hand. The bodies all lay next to one another, motionless and growing cold, mirroring the feeling he now had in his veins.
Shaking the memories from his mind and extinguishing the blade, he quickly broke into a run toward the Temple. No one else was in sight and the lights normally illuminating great statues had been extinguished, leaving them as monstrous, foreboding giants perched in the shadows of the main building. Pushing his way forward, he entered the Main Entrance Hall to find it also void of anyone.
Zyn slowed to a walk as he made his way into the Great Hall. Keeping the hilt in his hand, he reached out with the Force in an attempt to sense anyone still in the area, but came up empty. Was everyone dead or captured? The Jedi couldn’t all be gone, as the Temple was far too vast to sweep in the limited amount of time the troopers appeared to be here. Each of his footsteps echoed off the towering marble pillars as continued through.
“Hey,” a whisper to Zyn’s right called out, freezing him in his tracks. “Over here.”
Walking carefully toward one of the large pillars he believed the person to be hiding behind, Zyn was surprised to see a hooded head peering at him from around the smooth marble. Surprisingly, his face seemed to be older, with darker skin and hard eyes. He wore a hardened look and not frightened in the least, which left Zyn wondering who exactly this man was.
“Are you here to help us?” the man whispered as he stepped out from behind the pillar. He was dressed in Jedi robes with a hand concealed under them, as if he were ready to pull his lightsaber at a moment’s notice.
“I’m looking for someone,” Zyn answered. “Is Seela Me here?”
“Might be upstairs with the rest,” he answered, looking down at Zyn’s hand which was still holding the hilt. “Are you a Jedi?”
“No, but I am an ally.” Zyn noticed him visibly relax at his words.
“They’re all camped out in the Map Room, but be careful. There are troops everywhere, ordered to shoot on sight.”
“Thank you,” Zyn said, knowing exactly where the Map Room was and bowing his head in thanks.
Before he could straighten up, he was slammed in the abdomen by a sudden force. Zyn staggered backward, eventually losing his footing and crashing into the floor with his saber hilt skittering across the floor. Burning pain radiated outward, wrapping his body in agony and stealing his breath away. Wondering what he’d been hit with, he slowly looked up, only to be met with a blaster pointed at him by the hooded Jedi now standing over him.
“Jedi scum,” the man remarked.
This was the end, Zyn thought. The pain of his injury increased with each ragged, shallow breath he took, causing him to teeter on the edge of consciousness. He was about to become one with the Force, but instead of the calmness he expected, he found himself afraid. Afraid of his death, fearful of never seeing Seela again, and terrified about whatever awaited him on the other side.
The last thing Zyn saw in his fading vision was a yellow lightsaber blade sweeping down towards his shooter’s head from behind.