I think I’ve figured out where I’m going with this fic. Now just to deal with the writing of it. It’s more difficult than I thought it would be. But then, I’d originally thought it would be primarily an Exile/Atton romance, and then thanks to that LP I’ve been inspired to drag in some other themes as well. Not an overabundance of Kreia, because while she might be the best-written character in the game, she’s scary to write. But her influence will certainly be felt.
EDIT: I’ve made edits to this and the previous two chapters. A lot of them have been inspired by the GitS soundtrack, and in fact the rest of the story draws on that for inspiration. This isn’t just a novelization anymore… and I don’t know how I ever thought it was in the first place. This chapter’s track is Replica.
Part 4: Winds of War
Dantooine was the first destination on her list. She’d heard the enclave was destroyed when Malek, then a Sith, tried to kill Revan, then in the process of redeeming herself. Selyn had been raised and trained in the Coruscant Temple, but she’d been to Dantooine often enough before the war. She wanted to see if there was anything left, though she was not looking forward to meeting Master Vrook there. She would rather have sought out Master Vash first, but she did not feel strong enough to challenge Korriban yet.
She was wandering the ship when she came to the ‘garage’ and found Bao-Dur working on bits of the ship that were still damaged from when she’d found it. “Hello, Bao-Dur.”
“Ge- Tekeri,” he queried softly. “Is there a reason you don’t carry a lightsaber anymore?”
He’d seen the recording too, hadn’t he? “It… was taken from me.”
“That lightsaber doesn’t belong to you anymore. That lightsaber belonged to the person who fought with Revan in the wars, not the person you are now. I would have thought you would have a new one by now. You… could build another one… if you wanted to.”
“I have no wish to,” she said.
“Whatever the reason for that, you should put it behind you,” and she gave him a sharp look at his scolding. “Tekeri… a lightsaber is part of who you are. Without it, you’re not complete.”
She stalled. “The Jedi enclaves are destroyed. I don’t know where I’ll get the parts.”
“I can help,” he said, almost eagerly. “I know what parts you need.”
She raised an eyebrow. “And since when are you an expert on lightsabers?”
He rubbed his hands in a Zabrak gesture of embarrassment. “I spent a lot of time with Jedi during the war. None of them would let me take their lightsaber apart, but I learned a lot about their construction. Let me see… the important parts are the power cell, emitter matrix, focusing lens, and crystal – although I never did understand the crystal part.”
She knew how to evaluate crystals. She sighed. “You really think it’s that important?” How much of his belief was real, and how much was his not-quite-hidden lingering hero-worship of her?
“I do,” he said stubbornly. “I found a power cell that might work, kicking around back here. Think on it?”
“I’ll ask Kreia. …Thanks for the suggestion.”
“Got a minute?” Atton asked, leaning into the workspace area of the Ebon Hawke. The ship was safely in hyperspace, so he could wander away from the pilot’s seat if he liked. And Selyn was asleep, he thought – he was pretty sure. Which was relevant.
The Zabrak mechanic glanced at him for a minute, juggling more hydrospanners than one person should reasonably be expected to deal with at one time. “I’m a little busy here. What is it?”
“It won’t take long,” Atton assured him.
“All right, I’ll work while you talk.”
Worked for him. “Look, your friend, Tekeri, you know her from way back, don’t you. How well do you actually know her?”
“Yeah, during the war, if that’s what you mean by from way back. Can’t say I know too much about her, really.”
Atton shrugged. “Better than anyone else on this ship. Just give me your opinion, okay? And don’t laugh.”
“I’m trying to work here, Atton.”
“I was just wondering if, maybe, she and I might-”
Bao-Dur actually paused in his careful hand-twisting manoeuvres and looked at the pilot. “You’re being serious.”
Atton made an affronted face. “I asked you not to laugh.”
“You are being serious.” The Zabrak closed his eyes for a minute as if gathering his patience – Atton had that effect on people – and then continued. “Atton, she was a general. I was a tech. Your guess is as good as mine.”
Not helpful. “Well, what’s your guess, then?”
Very deliberately, the Zabrak turned away from him. “I’m getting back to work.”
“Hey! I’m being serious!”
The trash compactor fidgeted in the corner and tootled at him. He shot it a glare. “You’re laughing at me? I’ll have you put on the scrap heap, you rolling tin can!”
Selyn stood motionless at the top of the hill, eyes closed, letting Dantooine’s sun shine on her eyelids, letting the wind brush her hair. She breathed, slowly, deliberately, filling herself with breath and the Force, as delicately as with a newborn child. She was afraid, at first, though a Jedi should never have fear… calling out silently and waiting, listening for the echoes of the scream that still resonated within her.
She didn’t feel them, not here or now, and relaxed into the Force.
This was a good place for it: alive, but not overwhelming. She could stretch her disused spiritual muscles. She’d forgotten how beautiful it was, in all the joy and grief that was life. Even though there was much grief here, on Dantooine, it was still life, with all the painful hope and innocence and wonder that was contained therein. She could give it up, had lived without it for so long, but before that, she had forgotten what it was. During the war, the Force had only become a tool, to use telekinesis, to inspire others, to sense the world around her. What a fool she’d been.
This time, she wouldn’t forget.
She began to move, slowly, through the complete Shii-Cho form, not just to train – because she sorely needed that too – but also to feel every step through the Force, how attuned it was. Her eyes were still closed as the vibroblade hummed and spun through the air, occasionally knocking off the tips of the tall grasses around her. She felt the wind, felt like she flowed with it, turning and stepping in sequence.
She’d been training on the ship as well, trying to get back into proper fighting form to defend those who needed it, to succeed in her mission before the Sith killed her, but never as mindfully as this. It was good.
Form ended, she opened her eyes and saw Atton watching her gravely. Bao-Dur was beyond him, keeping a look-out for curious settlers so he could warn her to stop before she was discovered. She smiled a little at Atton, feeling more at peace with herself than she had in a while.
Atton didn’t smile back, but he acknowledged her with a little nod that told her she had his approval. Why that made her so happy, she wasn’t quite sure. He and Bao-Dur were both strong in the Force, she could feel now. Was that why they’d come along still, when they had no real reason to?
Dantooine arrived before he’d really worked out in his head how to hit on Selyn without scaring her off, and though it was a quiet planet, it wasn’t long before she found the crew well tangled up in its problems. How did he know she’d go and do that? But at least her denial of her Jedi past was working for them there, because everyone and their eighty-year-old grandmother hated Jedi for the Jedi Civil War that nearly destroyed them a few years ago, and wouldn’t think twice about handing her over to the Exchange.
If they could catch her, that is. He’d only seen Selyn fight a couple times, yet, besides training, and she hadn’t seen him fight except with a blaster, thank goodness… but these yokels would hardly be a match for her if they turned on her. It almost made him laugh, how dumb they were.
So now they were in the old ruined Jedi Academy, looking for one of those Jedi she’d volunteered to find for some reason. So far, monsters and moronic scavengers had been all they’d found.
She opened the door to… what did she say it was? The library? And then his headaches really began.
It looked empty at first, of people at least, but she heard someone moving around. Or something, but it didn’t sound quite like the scratching of a wild animal. Before she knew it, she had reached out instinctively with the Force.
It was a person, and quite possibly someone who might help them. Not Vrook, but not someone whose spirit roiled with negative emotions, either. She rounded a databank to find a young blond man kneeling and frowning at the innards of the computer. When he saw her, he scrambled to his feet and made a low bow.
She blinked. “Odd to find a gentleman here.” Atton and Bao-Dur peered suspiciously over her shoulder, blasters ready.
He straightened with a guileless smile. “I’d like to think that being in the field would not excuse a lack of manners. My name is Mical, and I’m a scholar and scientist in the service of the Republic. Well, more scholar than scientist, really.”
“You should come out of that corner now, and keep your hands where I can see them,” Atton demanded.
The man shrugged and complied, still with that pleasant look on your face. “And who might you be?”
“My name is Selyn, and my companions and I are looking for… someone. Do you know of a man named Vrook? I was told he might be here.”
“I’m afraid not. This place was empty when I came here a few hours ago. There are fresh corpses over there in the open space, however.” He wrinkled his nose and gestured. She went off to investigate, and after a moment of hesitation, her men followed.
There were several bodies, all armoured as mercenaries, all dead recently as he had said… from lightsaber wounds. There was no mistaking it. She looked back at the others; Bao-Dur had also recognized it, and Atton… Atton was still staring with hostility and even a little contempt at the blond, as if he was hiding a lightsaber himself.
One of the mercenaries had dropped a datapad; she picked it up. Orders to capture “the Jedi” alive, to cash in on the same bounty that threatened her. Wonderful. Vrook’s specialty was not combat, so it was going to be up to her to rescue him before he was sent to Nar Shaddaa.
“Did you find a clue?” Mical asked. “Was Master Vrook here?”
She glanced sharply at him. “You called him ‘Master’ Vrook?”
“I am an historian,” Mical said simply. “Specifically of the Jedi, although I am not one myself. Master Vrook, as perhaps you know yourself, was once a master here at this Jedi Enclave.”
Selyn tilted her head on one side. “Is that why you look familiar to me?”
He chuckled softly. “I’m afraid I can’t say why. I imagine in your lifetime, you have seen many people. Faces tend to blur together after a time. But thank you.”
“It wasn’t a compliment,” Atton muttered.
Selyn wondered. She had seen many people during the war, but surely not a one of them remained so… open, unembittered by the world as this man. And since then she had seen few people. But without some further clue to jog her memory, she would have to accept his words.
“So you, too, are seeking Jedi?” Mical asked. “Why is that?”
She looked at him, tried to gauge his intentions so far as she could with her limited knowledge of people and limited control of the Force.
If he worked for the Republic as he said, he would not misuse her knowledge. At the very least, he wasn’t a paranoid Dantooine farmer. “The Sith are moving in the galaxy, and I need the help of the remaining Masters to stop them.”
His blue eyes opened wide. “If the Sith are rising in the galaxy again, it is strange the Jedi would not already be there to meet them… and that we have not seen more evidence of the Sith.”
“You don’t believe her?” Bao-Dur asked mildly.
“No, I believe. I merely find such subtleties among the Sith to be strange. They have been known to practice deception… but in the histories, since the time of the dark lords Kun and Qel-Droma… and Revan and Malek, such subtleties have been rare.” He rested his chin on his fist, glanced back to where his pack lay. After a moment of consideration, he turned back to Selyn with a confident face. “In any case, it seems to me like our goals are compatible. If you would have me, I can apply my knowledge and skills to finding the answers – and aid – that you seek. And I have some small training in medical aid, psychology, and, when necessary, in firing blaster rifles.”
“Look, we’re already full up,” Atton said roughly. “We don’t need anyone else. We travel light.”
“A moment, please,” Selyn said, and withdrew a few paces. “Atton, we do need more help. All the help we can get, in fact. And he seems capable. We certainly don’t have anyone trained in first aid.”
Atton glowered, dark brows drawn together over sparkling dark grey eyes, but backed down almost right away. Surprisingly quickly, in fact. “Fine. Whatever you say. But I don’t like him.”
“For now, just don’t be too much of a jerk to him.”
“Whatever you say.” He shrugged sullenly and made for the exit.
Mical was looking a bit concerned. “If it’s a problem…”
“There’s no problem,” Selyn assured him. “You’re welcome to come along, if you wish.”
“Very well.” He smiled brightly and went to collect his pack… and quite a large blaster rifle as well.
She took a deep breath. “Well, let’s figure out where those mercenaries are holding Vrook, and quickly.”
It took her hours to find Vrook, marching as swiftly as she could across the vast expanse of the Dantooine plains to find the caves where the mercenaries hid. At least there was no mud.
The confrontation with the mercenaries ended poorly, and she was forced to kill them to defend herself and her companions. And Vrook, who was locked in a force-cage, with arms folded and an intensely grumpy look on his face.
As she unlocked the door, he brushed past her without a look at her. “Always rushing into action without thinking of the consequences.” She blinked in surprise and took a step back. “What? You were expecting thanks? Khoonda is in danger, and you’ve ruined the best chance of averting a full-scale conflict.”
How? You were in a cage! she thought at him, but that would get her nowhere with Vrook. “I… apologize, then. I was trying to help.”
“Perhaps if you took the time to understand the situation better, you wouldn’t have messed up again.”
Perhaps if you took the time to communicate with people instead of expecting them to read your mind with or without the Force, I could have worked with you instead of apparently against you, she thought. “What is the situation, then?”
“Right now, Dantooine is at a critical moment. If Khoonda falls, then the Republic may lose control of this system.” He turned to study her, her stance. “Still, I’m surprised you were able to get this far. Although you do have your Jedi training to fall back on. Every action has consequences, no matter how small or insignificant they seem – and every choice has the potential for harm. The Mandalorian Wars was proof of this. Intentions mean nothing if a greater tragedy is caused.”
They could argue about that later. “What do we do now?”
“I need to get to Khoonda and warn them. They could be attacked at any moment.”
“How can I help?”
Vrook looked at her another moment, then nodded. “If you wish to actually prove yourself, then do so. The mercenaries have allied themselves with the Exchange and are planning to attack Khoonda. They’ve been holding off for the right moment. And now since they lost their captive Jedi, they’ll attack immediately. I’m going to try to reach Administrator Adare. Time is of the essence.”
“Like they weren’t going to attack immediately anyway,” Atton muttered.
“Let us return to Khoonda immediately,” Vrook said. “Much as I hate to admit it, your experience may prove useful here, and we have much to prepare.”
“Why am I doing this, exactly?” he asked.
Bao-Dur glanced at him in disinterest. “Because if Khoonda is captured by the mercenaries, the Republic loses control of Dantooine and therefore stability in this entire region of space.”
“Not what I asked,” he said. “Also, how does one farming village control an entire region of space? …Never mind. Why are we still here?”
“I’m following the General because I want to. I don’t know what you’re doing, except complaining.”
“Atton?” She’d noticed his griping and turned around, crap.
He sighed. “I get why you have to fight… but I don’t like it.”
Brown eyes frowned at him in concern. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“And leave you with alone those militia greenies against all those mercs? No way. You need as many people as possible watching your back.”
“Don’t you mean someone more reliable than you?” Mical sniped quietly, and he shot a glare at him.
He didn’t have any reasonable objections. He didn’t want to fight for these nobodies, and he didn’t want Selyn to fight for them either, but of course she wanted to, and he couldn’t say no to her, even if Kreia wasn’t holding him on a leash like a tailless vornskr. It wasn’t any of their business… and yet he could see how it was at the same time.
Not to mention it was really hard to turn his back on those brown eyes. You’re such a loser, Rand.
He sighed again. “Fine, fine, I’ll do it. But if any of the greenies miss their target and hit you, I’m shooting them in the foot.”
She still wasn’t satisfied and drew him away from the others. “I know you don’t really want to be traveling with us…”
“No, no, it’s not that.” Frak, how to salvage this without her getting suspicious about half a dozen things? “It’s… look, forget it.”
“But you have a life…”
Honesty to On. Sort of. “I don’t really mind being here,” he muttered. “It’s not like I have anything better to do right now. Better company than I’ve had in a long time, even if Kreia’s an old bat and I already hate Mical’s guts. And that droid. I’m not happy about sticking my neck on the line for these farmers, but since you are, I will.”
She smiled. “That’s good to hear. And take care of yourself. I don’t want you to get hurt, either.”
She didn’t even question why he was still here, not really.
Good. He wasn’t sure of the answer, himself.
Leading troops again, even a squad of raw, green militia recruits… left her with mixed feelings. On one hand, she already knew that as long as she could maintain her self-control, she was good at leading. And she was good at maintaining self-control, too. And while this battle was promising to be bloody, it would hardly be able to match the horror of Dxun, of Serroco. She would inspire her followers and keep their hope burning until the battle was won. She hoped they would win. There was only one of her, and one of Vrook, and one of Atton and Bao-Dur and Zherron, the militia captain. And their attackers held many mercenaries hardened in the same crucible that she had endured. The odds were heavily against them. But if she didn’t believe, none of her followers would either.
On the other hand, she didn’t want to get used to the feeling again, the feeling of being a military commander. That had destroyed her soul before ever she came to Malachor.
But there was no way she could have refused. The only option even remotely reasonable to her was to help the colonists, to fight their aggressors, even if the mercenaries hadn’t already proved themselves immoral bullies for the most part. To have said no would have been her own moral suicide.
So she would bear with the conflict within herself, lock it down where no hint of it would dismay the young men and women who crouched beside her, nervous and jittery at being in their first combat.
With vibroblade and blaster in hand, she rose from cover and flowed to meet the enemy that had made it past the minefield, a rain of blaster bolts from her allies thundering past her. “Don’t be afraid, but keep your heads down!”
Atton had never served under Selyn directly in the Mandalorian War. She was a general of infantry and capital ships; he was a fighter pilot. He had never seen her first-hand in action in quite this way, leading others, giving these kids confidence, projecting an image of complete calm and martial prowess. The sort of image that made the kids think ‘hey, I could be like her. Not quite as awesome as her, but like her.’ Her blue Zeison Sha armour, found in the ruins, made her small figure striking, but her big brown eyes and shining black hair made her beautiful. And therefore convincing to the newbies.
He even felt a swell of confidence himself, much stronger than he’d expected, even though he’d seen her fight alongside him and the other crew of the Ebon Hawk in a much more honest manner.
It couldn’t be completely true. She looked so at ease, whether it was crouching beside them, giving them last-minute advice, or charging into the teeth of the enemy to fight them vibroblade to vibroblade… Either she was really good at faking it, or she had completely fallen back into being the General Bao-Dur hero-worshiped.
The second option made him uneasy. He wasn’t sure why, and here and now wasn’t the time to examine it closely – now was only time to follow his instincts and shoot every bastard who sighted on her. And try not to watch her, as usual. And kick the guy next to him if he stopped shooting to watch her. Idiot.
When the dust had settled, the leader of the mercenaries lay dead at her feet and Khoonda was still intact, her administrator still alive. After receiving thanks, Selyn met with Vrook out on the plains to learn what he knew. Atton, Bao-Dur, and Mical went back to the ship ahead of her.
“It seems you are not completely hopeless,” Vrook grumbled as they walked. “No, that is a disservice. Khoonda is safe in no small part due to you. You may be reckless, but you are competent and you have not fallen to the Dark Side. At least, as far as I can tell.” He grimaced. But it was as high praise as Vrook had ever given anyone. “What brought you to Dantooine in the first place?”
“I was looking for you,” she said. “The Sith have returned and, from what I am told, are not acting like we expect Sith to act.”
“Indeed. And that is why I am here as well. It became clear not long ago that wherever Jedi gathered, the Dark Side was drawn to it. This threat does not use weapons or armies; it strikes through the Force, wiping out Jedi and destroying our secret sanctuaries.”
“Like Katarr?”
“How did you know of Katarr?” Vrook rounded on her, surprised. “That was only known to a few.”
“I found mention of it on Telos.” Atris’s files had mentioned it, and the deaths of the masters there.
“Interesting… But yes. All life on the planet has somehow ceased to exist. So many Jedi Masters… and the entire race of the Miraluka, wiped out. It was that which taught us that it was necessary to divide our forces and conceal those of us who were left until we could learn more. We each chose places where it would be difficult for the enemy to detect us. I do not even know where the others may be, and we will not contact each other until one of us discovers where the Sith are striking from and how.”
“Is that why you let yourself be captured?”
Vrook snorted. “What, you truly believed the mercenaries had overcome me? If so, you are no brighter than they were. When an enemy believes you are defeated, they no longer consider you a threat – and they relax their guard, become bold. After I was captured, they talked freely of their plans, enough for me to learn their intentions. And I had hoped that through them, I might trace a trail back to the Sith, and recover the holocrons they stole.”
“They stole Jedi holocrons?” she asked, worried. If the holocrons were stolen by the Sith, they were as good as destroyed.
It seemed it was worse than that. “I fear they have used the knowledge of the holocrons to uncover our hidden enclaves. Which would lead to more holocrons, and more knowledge of us that they can use to destroy. Meanwhile, they have still not stepped from the shadows and we know little to nothing about them.”
“Were you really safe here? There is not much to mask the presence of a Jedi Master…”
“Battlegrounds, places of suffering… they leave their wounds on the Force.” He gestured towards the distant ruins of the Jedi Enclave. She’d felt the scars there, too – the fear and anguish that lingered, poignant, melancholy, in those walls. “The deaths of those Malak killed here echo still. It is difficult to centre oneself, but also difficult for me to be felt. But in turn, I cannot feel the presence of any Sith here. It may be only that they are masking themselves as well, but I feel as if there are none here. So I have come to a dead end.”
“But that is not the only reason you came here…”
“Yes, you are right.” Vrook sighed, and seemed to diminish. “Perhaps I just wanted to see the place… one last time.”
They were both silent a moment. Selyn had not been to Dantooine much, but she had visited, and she could understand Vrook’s grief.
Vrook straightened. “I suppose, before you go, you have questions about your exile.”
“No. I have questions about other things. I had thought that… Malachor V destroyed my connection to the Force, but I have been told that it was cut off by the Jedi Council. Why would you-”
“We did not cut your connection to the Force,” Vrook interrupted gruffly. “We did nothing to you. We could have, but that was not something the Council did.”
“I see,” she said. “Then can you explain how I have re-established my connection?”
Vrook turned to glare in confusion at her. “Perhaps it is the energy of Dantooine, but I do not feel such from you. I feel nothing but what I felt in the Council chamber ten years ago. Still, you and your… connections in general were a source of much debate in the council. It is possible that returning to known space has caused it to stir within you again.”
He had been fighting on the other side of the building. He had not seen her in battle, how she anticipated the enemy’s attacks as one can only do with the Force.
She definitely felt the Force again, more strongly by the day, although she was still afraid of the echoes she felt deep down. They were growing, sure as her control of the Force was growing. When she had been alone, she hadn’t had to feel anyone around. She wondered what it was like to speak with someone and to not have the Force, to not be able to read their aura, only their words and body language. Like a normal person. Probably frightening, at least at first, since she had known the Force since she was young.
But as Kreia said, if she could feel it, she must be trained in it.
“The Sith believe I am a Jedi, though,” she said aloud. “They have attacked me, too.”
“Mm. I see. I have only a little to offer: how is your Shien form?”
“I haven’t practiced it in ten years…” She drew her vibroblade and faced him, as he drew his lightsaber and face her.
“You are not exaggerating. Your form is horribly sloppy. Here, like this.”
Vrook might be old, but he was no pushover as a teacher, Selyn reflected wearily as she returned to the Ebon Hawk in the dimming light of dusk. After a grueling battle earlier in the day, as well. And he hadn’t had any information on the lethal Force Bond she shared with Kreia, either.
She walked up the boarding ramp and paused. There should have been more sound about; the whirr of T3’s little servomotors as he puttered about the ship, perhaps some clicking or clanking from Bao-Dur in the garage ahead of her…
She closed her eyes and stretched out with the Force… Her friends were clustered in the cargo bay, possibly asleep… or knocked out. And there was…
…a presence, charging her from the left with the familiar hum of a lightsaber.
Selyn leaped forward, into the common area, a half-second ahead of the crimson blade that slashed viciously towards her. Adrenaline had already blasted her weariness into oblivion. She rolled and came up in a combat crouch, vibroblade in hand. “Who are you? What have you done with my friends?”
The hooded woman made no answer but lunged at her again. Selyn blocked. Shien form was going to be useless here; it was too bad she’d just spent half the day practicing it. Makashi was what she needed now.
The woman was driving her back, lightsaber swinging at cortosis-weave blade, through the common area, up towards the cockpit where she’d be trapped. Step by step, attack by counterattack, she pressed forward, but Selyn dodged around the holoprojector to keep the battle to the open area. Both women hissed as they scored superficial wounds on each other, but Selyn’s armour protected her more than her opponent’s black leather robe.
Her body was steady, eyes, hands, feet, but her heart thrummed with worry. Were her friends truly all right? She had only brushed them, had no time to count who was there. At least she knew Kreia was all right. And it had been a long time since she had fought a lightsaber duel to the death. So far, her skills were holding up, but…
Fear had no place here. Anger and worry for her friends had no place here. Only bloodless concentration on defending against the strange enemy before her. Yes, strange, for the woman felt of the Dark Side, and yet… very mildly, as if it were only a cloak over her. Could it be a trick? This woman feared her, but whatever hatred and anger she felt did not feel directed at her.
In fact, despite the ferocity of her attacks, and the grim set of her veiled face, it didn’t seem like she wanted to kill Selyn. And Selyn didn’t want to kill her.
The woman flung out her hand, and suddenly Selyn couldn’t see. No, that wasn’t true. She saw the interior of the ship dimly, as through a mist, but her opponent shone in the Force and she could see it as with her eyes. Her own hands were shining where they gripped the vibroblade.
She didn’t understand, but startled as she was, she fought on, cutting the woman in the thigh as she lunged forward again.
Who was she? What was she doing here? If she was a Sith, was she alone? She couldn’t sense any other hostiles on the Ebon Hawke, but they could be cloaking themselves. Still, no one else had attacked her yet. The woman’s attacks were unrefined, but still so fast and powerful that it was all Selyn could do to keep up with her. If there were other hostiles, they would have to wait their turn.
The woman overreached just once, hampered by her wounds, and Selyn sliced at the hilt of her lightsaber with a flick of her wrist. The blow connected and the red lightsaber fizzled out, its crystals cut.
The woman staggered back and dropped to her knees, and not entirely because of the wound in her leg, it seemed. “I yield… master. It is as I felt in the Force. My life… for yours.” She was panting in pain, but pride was keeping her up.
“I won’t kill you,” Selyn said. This was no Sith. This was a bantha in rancor clothing. “You are-”
“You must,” the woman interrupted. “The alternative is only another death… and I would rather die by your hands.”
So she was Sith-trained, then, if she was supposed to die for her failure. Half-trained, really. Her saber combat was good, despite the roughness, but she was lacking in almost everything else. She didn’t seem so young, could she really be an apprentice Sith? “Let me help you to the med bay. No one needs to die for anything right now.”
“I… have nothing to offer you. Your strength is superior… It is as I felt…” The woman slumped over, unconscious.
Blood loss? Shock? In either case, she needed immediate help. Even if she wasn’t as straightforward as she seemed, she couldn’t be left to die. As gently as she could, Selyn gathered her up and carried her to the med bay. She could do little for these wounds besides slap bandages on them, but if Mical was unhurt… She ran to the cargo bay and slapped the lock open.
T-3 tootled happily to see her, although he was missing a leg to a lightsaber swipe. The rest… looked unharmed but were all present, lying about as if dumped there unceremoniously. “Hello? Wake up! I’m back!” She patted Atton on the shoulder, then moved to Mical. “Atton, we should take off as soon as you feel well enough. Mical? I need your help.”
Mical stablized the strange woman quickly enough. After Atton put the ship into space and en route to their next planet, he came to investigate. He was the only one who did; Kreia returned to the women’s dorm and meditated, and Bao-Dur went back to the garage to work on T3, or maybe just to tinker, something he found calming even if the Ebon Hawk’s most major repairs were complete. “A Miraluka, huh? Now I’ve seen everything.” His expression was only a little hostile from his recent experience with her, mostly just curious.
She looked human to Selyn, except for the lack of eyes under her veil, but she’d never met a Miraluka before. “I thought they all died on Katarr.”
“Maybe she wasn’t on Katarr at the time. Except they’re really secretive, it would be unusual for one of them to leave the planet. I’d heard some of them become Jedi, but she’s a Sith, isn’t she? Attacking us, attacking you… That’s… well, that’s a new one.”
“I’m not sure what she felt. I’m certain she was Sith-trained, but she does not feel completely like one.” Selyn shook herself. “Not that I’ve met many Sith.”
“Right, you sat out the Jedi Civil War. Man, she looks like she’s already been through a beating, even without the injuries you gave her.”
“She is going to recover, right?” she asked Mical. If she could save this one…
“She should make a full recovery, and in quick time, too,” Mical assured her. “I had to read up on her physiology, but yes. As Atton said, she has many scars, but Miraluka appear to be very tough and hardy. I think she’ll be all right.”
“You could have just said ‘yes’,” Atton grumbled.
Although the rest of the crew would have been happy to dump their mysterious injured attacker back on Dantooine for Vrook to deal with, Selyn knew that would only be a burden for the settlement there. The safest place for the Miraluka to be, both for herself and for them, was with them.
After a day in hyperspace, the woman woke. Selyn went immediately to see her, when Mical came to tell her.
The Miraluka was sitting up, adjusting her veil so that the upper portion of her face was hidden. Was it to make the humans more comfortable around her? Selyn wondered. As she entered, the woman turned to face her as if she saw her.
Perhaps she did. The Miraluka wouldn’t have evolved blind without some other way of ‘seeing’.
“My life for yours,” the woman said softly before Selyn could say anything.
Selyn paused. “Are you doing well?”
“I am fit to serve. If we enter battle, I will fight and die alongside you.”
Selyn paused longer. “That’s… not what I asked.” And, though the words were poetic, she wasn’t planning for anyone on this ship to die on her, and she wasn’t planning to die herself. Yet, anyway.
The other woman also paused, processing, then answered: “I am sorry. I… have not heard that question in some time. My flesh is healed, if that is the answer you seek.”
“Good,” Selyn said. “Who are you, and why did you attack me, when you didn’t seek to kill me?”
“My name is Visas, Visas Marr, and my Master sent me.”
“Who is he, or she, and why did they send you?”
“I do not know his name… He is only darkness and hunger. But he saved me… I am his scout, his emissary. My master became aware of a disturbance in the Force, but he was unaware of its nature – unaware of you. The disturbance was not like that caused by a living thing. There is little my Master does not know, and that you eluded his sight for so long… is significant, but I do not know why.”
Selyn shivered, Vrook’s words unwillingly called back to her. She felt that her connection to the Force was as normal as any other Jedi… but so many people were saying otherwise she had to wonder what was wrong with her. “Where is your Master?”
“I cannot tell you. His vessel roams the borders of known space, and even I do not know where he travels…. until he… calls for me. Even if I could lead you to my Master, I cannot permit you to find him… until you are ready. Without your potential realized, then you will be lost to me. And I cannot allow that to happen. It would be as if one brought fire to a paradise valley, shattered a cavern of rare crystal… or blinded a painter. Now that I have found you, I cannot sacrifice what I have found.”
“I don’t understand,” Selyn said. “And you realize of course that I have little reason to trust you. You could be cautioning me only to allow him to grow more powerful.”
Visas shook her head mournfully. “I realize this. I had to test you. If I could defeat you, then you were not the one who could defeat my Master.” She looked up at Selyn. “I did not hurt your friends.”
“That is true. Although you did hurt T3 a bit.”
“I… am sorry. I found it difficult to disable the droid in the same way as your other companions.”
“Thank you,” Selyn said. “I’ll tell him. But now, what are you going to do? I may trust you, but I don’t believe anyone else here will. We’re still a long way off from our destination, although Atton could be persuaded to set you down on the nearest inhabited planet without too much trouble, I think…”
“I must come with you,” Visas said, suddenly passionate. “I do not care what your followers think of me. I do not care how they or you treat me. But you will face my Master someday – I have seen it – and when you stand before him, and realize what you face, you must be prepared. Until then, I must help you and protect you in your trials.”
“My trials.” Selyn offered a tired smile. “Yes, I suppose they are trials. But you can’t help me with the heaviest of them.”
“The trials of the mind,” Visas said in a low voice. “I know. When my home-” She cut off suddenly, withdrawing into herself.
“Do you know what happened to Katarr?” Selyn asked. “Would you tell me?”
“It was… my Master.” The words came slowly. “I am sorry, I have not spoken of it to anyone since it…”
“Your Master killed an entire world?” Selyn whispered, shocked and not quite believing.
“The Jedi, the last Council of the Jedi, came to our world to meet in secret. They hoped that among our people they would achieve the clarity to ‘see’ what was striking at them from the dark corners of the galaxy. They succeeded… but only in bringing him from the Outer Regions. And – you know my people are Force-sensitive – with the Miraluka and the Jedi on its surface, it was not something he could ignore.”
“So he…” How was it possible for a single being to do such a thing, even through the Force? To drain an entire planet of the Force?
‘Size matters not’, Master Vandar told every pupil who passed through his classes. If such a Dark being could do such a thing, was it possible for a Light being to do something similar but, obviously, for everyone’s good?
“I was the only living thing remaining on the planet of Katarr… and my life, my agony, was a flicker in the darkness that was the planet. All that I had been connected to had been severed. I still wonder what would have happened if I had died with the others… if perhaps there would have been some way to hide my presence from the galaxy. If only I had not… felt that pain, that loss, as strongly as I did. But it could not be done. When the life was bled from the planet, and yet somehow, I remained, my Master came for me. He walked upon the surface of my dead world, and there, lying in the bodies of my race, he took me for his own. And he made me see. And for the first time, I saw the galaxy. And I wished to die.”
What did she see? Did she not already wish to die?
“To this galaxy, my world, absent the currents and spectrums of the Force, was nothing but crude matter, rock, flesh, emptiness. He showed the flickering of life on other planets, the mass of beings that swarm through the empty places of the galaxy. To see such creatures, disconnected from themselves, their world, their place in it, unable to see the currents and how they affected everything around them.”
“That’s life,” Selyn said weakly.
“He showed me to make me believe in his cause,” Visas said quietly, calmly. “He convinced me the galaxy, all life must die. He fed upon its ugliness, its screaming, and in its place, he left silence… and where there was chaos, he brought stillness… and order.”
“That’s horrible,” Selyn whispered. “Do you truly… believe that…?”
Visas didn’t even twitch. “No. But yes.”
She knelt in the cargo bay, away from prying eyes – especially that of the nosy, mouthy assassin droid she had just repaired with Bao-Dur’s help. Apparently Revan had built the droid. It had her sense of humour… turned up to eleven and dipped in acid and blood. And it had her philosophy as well.
And Force, it was distracting even when it wasn’t around. She’d get her answers about the Mandalorian Wars later. She was trying to concentrate.
A Jedi was supposed to assemble their lightsaber using only the Force. But she’d already passed that test, twenty years ago, and maintenance on her old one had taught her that using her hands was more satisfying… except for the most fiddly bits when it was – had been – easier to use the Force to tweak things rather than reach for the smallest screwdriver. With her control over the Force not quite that strong yet, she’d rely solely on the screwdrivers today, loaned from Bao-Dur.
He’d insisted, and Kreia had agreed. A lightsaber would mark Selyn as a target, yet the more she got involved, straightening things out, trying to make life easier for everyone else in the galaxy, the more she would need one at her side. A vibroblade only went so far.
And a lightsaber was actually easier to hide than a great big metal blade, and her best blade was all notched from the fight with Visas anyway. Cortosis only made the metal lightsaber-resistant, not lightsaber-proof.
Was this part of her healing? Would this help her connection to the Force, or her connection to Kreia, or anything? Or would it only help in killing her opponents faster?
She had to put down the hilt and her tools for a moment, put her head down, and take deep breaths as her hands remembered and shook.
Visas’ words came to her now. Was the only way for her to have peace to die? She had wanted to die, had almost tried four times over the long years of her exile, but something stopped her each time. Whether it was the then-unfelt Force, or just that she wanted to try to atone before she gave in, she didn’t know.
Was she Jedi? Was she not Jedi? Why couldn’t she be normal, whether Jedi or not Jedi? She was pretty sure she wasn’t Sith. But with Visas describing her Master as an empty hunger in the Force, and Vrook describing her as an empty spot in the Force… That was unsettling. Did she deserve a lightsaber? Wasn’t Bao-Dur just walking in the same old dark paths she walked?
She picked it up again. Only a couple of parts left now.
She thumbed the switch. Violet blazed into being above her hand. She settled both hands around the hilt and made some abbreviated stances before making loops with her wrist.
Satisfied, with its construction if not her lack of resolution for its use, she powered it off and hung it from her belt. She’d taken off her armour aboard ship, and she felt the saber’s weight more fully without it.
She made for the cockpit. Atton had once asked about her lightsaber. Maybe he’d like to see her new one.