Knights of the Old Republic: Knight of Alderaan/10-11

Chapter 10

Ralina cursed aloud. Her hand in pazaak had failed her, and now she was left with nothing but a rather warm glass of Corellian ale and a few credits to keep her company. She had spent nearly two thousand credits gambling, trying to make a fortune here on Dantooine. She figured it wouldn’t have been too hard making some money off dreary spacers and droll farmers. After all, she had earned some winnings last time she had come here.

She received some easy winnings when she first arrived, nearly doubling the amount of credits she started out with. However, about half way through her tenth match, a large crowd had entered the cantina with new players in tow. Since then, her smuggler’s luck had run out, and she had lost all the credits she won plus the credits she had brought with her. She knew restraint, but only because if she had continued to bet, she’d have gambled away her ship as well. Fetcher would be furious when he discovered that Ralina lost most of their money in pazaak matches, but he would have been even angrier if she’d lost the ship. Considering the circumstances, she thought she did well for herself.

Sitting in a booth by her lonesome in the Wild Mynock Cantina, Ralina gripped her glass and swallowed its lukewarm, bitter contents. Last night she had been thrown out of the Iriaz Cantina she had generally frequented because she had ‘drank too much’ for the barkeep’s taste. She didn’t agree, but perhaps he was influenced by that barfight she started after a spacer ogled her. She wouldn’t have been surprised. She did manage to break quite a few glasses in the process.

A vicious ringing in her head caused her to groan quietly to herself. It had been a few months since she and her crew had taken their last job, escorting those Jedi to Polus. Over the past year, Ralina had lost quite a few members of her crew, and the fact that it was her fault slowly gnawed at her spirit. The fact that she could remember each mission with haunting clarity did not help her find solace, either. Nightmares came and went, but she kept falling asleep and finding herself seeing Halendot dying, or leaving Tserne behind on Polus. She had stopped sleeping, but she didn’t feel any better.

Maybe the alcohol would help. She’d try anything at this point. “Hey! I need another Corellian over here,” she called to the barkeep.

“A drink?” the bartender asked. A smile spread across his face as he motioned toward a half-drunk man sitting nearby. “Or do you want Walthen to keep you company tonight?”

A few of the more rowdy males whooped and hollered at the thought, but a quick string of profanity from Ralina promptly silenced them. She could have walked over and pummeled the poor bartender senseless for his tone, but she couldn’t find the strength. Instead, she cupped her head in her hands and tried to close her eyes. She needed some time to relax and escape the responsibilities placed on her. That’s why they had come back here, supposedly. But this wasn’t relaxing, this was tedious, and she was not enjoying herself.

At least she could separate herself from the crew for a while. If Fetcher, or smuggling-gods forbid, Manda saw her like this, Ralina would be forced to step down as captain until she recovered. She couldn’t do that. She couldn’t force any of her crew to take on the duty of acting-captain. The burdens of leadership were hers to create and carry. Her crew could provide emotional support for her, but that’s all she would allow them to do.

Lost in her introspection, Ralina suddenly felt nauseous and weak. She wanted to head to the refresher and rethink those last few drinks she had, but she just couldn’t force herself to stand. As she settled in her seat, a man joined her, sitting across from her in the booth. He held two glasses of Corellian ale in his hand, and he extended one to the weary captain.

“You wanted another glass, miss?” he asked.

Ralina looked up at the man. He might have been old enough to be in here, but he was still boyish. Hardly old enough to be in the military, much less a cantina like this one. He had amber hair that was as scattered and ravenous as hers was, if far shorter, and his lightly tanned skin had burns and scratches that caught Ralina’s attention. She felt sick when she looked into his eyes. There was something about them that was not quite right.

She didn’t dare turn down the drink. Taking it without a word, Ralina took several gulps before turning her attention to the man. “Thank you. What brings you here?”

“I have a question to ask you,” the young man said plainly.

“No, I will not.”

“What?”

Ralina sighed, placing her glass on the table. “I know what you’re thinking – like every other depraved drunkard in this place – and the answer is no,” Ralina insisted.

The young man chuckled softly. “You misunderstand me. I guess I phrased my thoughts poorly. That’s my fault. I have something to request of you.”

“Fine,” Ralina said. “I owe you for the drink, but not much else.”

“Have you ever seen a Jedi?” the man asked, his nonchalant tone suddenly turning dark.

Ralina had started drinking again, and she nearly choked on the ale. Taken aback by the question, she stared at the man. “What is it to you?”

“I ask because… we… need your help,” the man admitted, kneading his temples with his forefingers.

“I may be an acquaintance of one or two. Why? Who are you?” she asked, reminding herself that her blaster pistol was still resting at her side.

“We need your help. Please?”

“We?”

“My brother and I.”

“Listen,” Ralina said, slowly. “I don't know you, and I hope you don’t know me. I don’t know what you want with the Jedi-”

“Can you enter the Jedi Enclave?” the man asked, his voice fluctuating a tad.

Ralina sipped the drink the man had given her, but it dawned upon her that it might have been drugged. Coughing and placing the drink at the edge of the table, Ralina struggled to politely smile at the man. “Can’t you do that by yourself?”

“Tried,” the man shot back. “Failed. Didn’t let us in.”

“Well, if you weren’t let in, perhaps you aren’t supposed to be in there.”

“We need to go in there. Need to question. Need to learn.”

“Listen, I’d really like to help you. I really would. But I think it’d be too dangerous, and I can’t guarantee I’d be any help to you anyway. So if you don’t mind…” Ralina summoned the will to stand and rushed out of the booth.

She thought the man had called out to her, but she didn’t dare turn back and look at him. Ralina made a beeline for the door, hoping to avoid any further cofrontation. If she was pursued, she had a blaster with his name on it.

Suddenly, an explosion in the distance rocked the bar, sending Ralina to the ground with a shriek. The other patrons began to clamor amongst themselves, trying to figure out exactly what had happened. Another explosion followed, and then another. Soon, the ground was perpetually shaking, throwing people and fragile items to the floor. Ralina was still lying on the ground, unable to find the strength to stand up. Damn, damn, damn.

When the explosions finally stopped, Ralina tried to stand, but her legs were still weak. As she wobbled toward the bar counter, something grabbed her arm. Turning, Ralina realized that the man from the booth had grabbed her. She gasped softly and wasted no time kicking at his chest, hoping to escape. He deftly dodged her sudden kick and silently threw her arm over his shoulder, serving as a crutch for her.

“What the hell are you doing?” Ralina asked, still enraged and a bit flustered.

“If you’re going to help us, we’ll need to get out of here,” the man said. “It’s not safe here.”

“How do you know?” Ralina began, but she knew her predicament and changed topics quickly. “Doesn’t matter. I’m not going anywhere with you, you psycho!”

“Do you want to stay here with the crazed drunks and startled crowd?”

Ralina said nothing, so the man continued.

“Grab onto that chair for a moment, I’ll come back to help you once the door is clear.”

Ralina glanced at the front door, and she immediately noticed that a beam from the roof had fallen down, blocking the exit. Several patrons were trying to move it, but they were hardly making progress. “The front door’s blocked,” she finally said.

“We’re not using the front door,” he muttered gruffly. Letting go of her, the man sprinted toward the back door.

Unlike the main entrance, nothing kept patrons from leaving through the back door except a burly Trandoshan bouncer, who seemed unfazed by the peculiar occurrences happening outside – his only concern was protecting the bar’s profits. The Trandoshan growled at the man as he approached, threatening to shoot him with his slugthrower. When the man didn’t stop, he was shot in the arm as a warning. Ignoring the bloodied hole in his arm, the man got close enough to drive his knee into the bouncer’s groin. The Trandoshan recoiled with a hiss, wincing in pain. Grabbing the bouncer’s head, the man head-butted the large reptilian and sent him to the floor, unconscious.

Returning to Ralina without another word, the man propped her upright while his body served as her crutch. She struggled a bit at first, but they eventually headed for the back door together.

“Are you all right?” the man asked.

“What the hell did you do?” Ralina asked, disgusted. “Trandoshan scales are like armor, not to mention their heads. How are you still standing?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t feel anything.”

Ralina grimaced. “Okay, tough guy. If you’re insane enough not to feel pain, I won’t complain.”

The two escaped the bar and found themselves in the lot behind the building. Spotting her speeder, Ralina figured she could make a run for it – if she could just get rid of her unwanted companion. Her arm was slung across his back for support, but she could stand on her own. Since they were nearly walking side-by-side, Ralina took the opportunity to punch him in the chest. As she expected, he hardly flinched, but Ralina managed to escape his grasp anyway.

“Back off,” she said. “I’m leaving – by myself. If you try and follow me, I’ll…” Her voice trailed off when she reached for her side to discover her blaster was missing.

“It slipped out of its holster during the earthquake,” the man said, holding the weapon in his outstretched hand. “I assume you want it back.”

Ralina eyed him cautiously. “Yes.”

“We still need to go to the Jedi Enclave.”

“I could just leave you here,” Ralina quipped.

“We could just shoot you,” he countered.

Ralina reached for her earpiece comlink, but the man noticed her sudden movement and pointed the blaster at his forehead. She didn’t know if he was bluffing, but she didn’t want to risk it. She slowly moved her hand away from her ear and silently chided herself for not turning the comlink on earlier. She had a knife on her, but she oculdn’t get close enough to use it. She could have thrown it at him, but he had just resisted a slug to the arm and bashing heads with a Trandoshan. He wasn’t going to go down easily.

“We’re not getting anywhere while we argue. Let’s make a deal,” Ralina suggested.

“Go ahead.”

“I’ll take you to the Jedi Enclave, but only if there’s no danger.”

The man thought for a moment. “Once we get in, you won’t be in any danger.”

“Well, once you have what you need, you and I will part ways. And you’ll allow me to keep my blaster and my speeder. We both win.”

“That sounds reasonable. We accept.”

Ralina sighed with relief. “May I use my comlink now?”

“Once.”

Ralina turned away from the man and switched on her comlink. I always get the crazy ones…  She listened to static for a moment, but it didn’t take long to establish connection with her ship. “This is Captain Venli. Is anyone there?”

“Ralina? Captain!” Fetcher’s gruff voice called out through the other end. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, for now. Why? What is it?”

“The Sith are attacking Dantooine! We were forced to abandon system when the Sith fleet arrived, but we’ll return as soon as you give the word,” Fetcher said, a bit distraught.

“Wait,” Ralina said. “Who gave you orders to jump system? How did you escape?”

“Cortes told us the Sith were coming,” Fetcher said. “He told us to make a jump to Gravlex Med because of the Republic garrison here.”

“He told you the Sith were coming? Before they arrived?” Ralina asked.

“He…” Fetcher paused as Ralina’s insinuations dawned on him. “I’ll speak with him. Would you like us to return to Dantooine?”

“No,” Ralina said. “You’ll just get destroyed. Wait until I’m ready for pick-up. And then get in, get out. No entanglements.”

“Yes, Captain. Fetcher out.”

This is going to be a suicide mission, either way,  Ralina thought. “All right, you nutjob. Let’s get this over with,” she said, addressing her temporary companion.

“Please,” the man said, “call us Jhosua.”

***                                                                                                                  ***

Ralina drove the speeder, if only because she didn’t have confidence in Jhosua’s sanity. It had been some time since the two had left the bar, and yet they didn’t seem any closer to the Jedi Enclave. What did seem closer, though, was the fleet of Sith warships looming in the horizon. They were distant, for now, small and seemingly harmless. However, Ralina had no doubt in her mind that they were making their rounds, traveling from continent to continent, bombarding every building standing over a meter high. Birds flew in droves, and the native fauna seemed to flee from the Jedi Enclave – as though they knew where the epicenter would be.

Ralina pressed on, despite these natural warnings. The occasional fighter wing startled her, but they clearly were not interested in destroying a pair of travelers in the middle of nowhere. At least, not yet. Every so often, she turned to Jhosua, wondering what drove him to demand that they head straight toward the place where the bombardment would be the worst.

She turned to him every so often, trying to take her mind off their impending destruction by starting a conversation. He didn’t seem to notice her, lost in his own train of thoughts. Ralina knew there was something off about him, besides the fact that he constantly addressed himself as though there were many of him. His idiosyncrasies slowly gave way as they continued driving, and she felt more comfortable around him as a result.

They reached the Jedi Enclave, surprisingly, in one piece. Ralina parked her vehicle behind a large rock face while Jhosua disembarked and replaced his blaster pistols’ energy cells. They were near the eastern entrance, and there was a single guard droid barring entrance to the facility itself. Everyone else seemed to have situated themselves inside the Jedi Enclave, thinking that its masonry and metal walls would defend them from the Sith’s bombs. A foolish notion.

“What are we going to do?” Ralina whispered.

“What do you mean?” Jhosua asked, a bit shocked at the question.

“How are we going to get inside?”

“I thought there would be more defenses; there were last time I was here. For now, just distract the droid while I destroy it.”

“That seems a bit too easy.”

“For you.”

Ralina sighed and headed out from behind the rock. The droid spotted her immediately, but it didn’t open fire. She supposed that the machine didn’t see her as a threat. How embarrassing. Picking up a stone at her feet, she threw the pebble at droid, hoping it would notice. However, it didn’t even react as the stone hit its metal chassis. Ralina kept throwing stones in a futile and ridiculous effort to attract the droid’s attention. Jhosua eventually figured that he waited long enough and revealed himself to the droid. His first blaster shot disabled the droid’s admittedly poor shielding, and the second shot blasted its head off its shoulders. Once the droid was powered down, Jhosua urged Ralina to follow him to the door itself.

“Take the blaster rifle it had,” Jhosua noted.

While Ralina separated the rifle from the droid’s mechanized digits, Jhosua disassembled the droid’s damaged head and removed its voice box, along with some other random chords and circuitry. Using the droid’s voice as a key, Jhosua unlocked the door to the Jedi Enclave, granting the pair access.

“Didn’t you say you’re ex-military?” Ralina asked, finally securing the blaster rifle in her arms.

“Infantry.”

“I didn’t think you army-boys had any technical prowess,” she mused, taunting him. Clearly, I was wrong.”

Jhosua grimaced. “I don’t have any technical skills. He did.”

“He?” Ralina asked.

“My brother,” he said flatly before heading inside.

“Wait! Where are we going?”

Jhosua didn’t answer, but Ralina knew he expected her to follow him. He didn’t turn around to check on her, so she warily abandoned him. She had a weapon now, so she could fight him if he returned. Backing up slowly, she made her way back to her speeder. Activating her comlink, she waited for the static to clear while starting up the vehicle. However, it became clear that her comlink could not connect to the Hound’s Sapphire. The Sith were likely intercepting communications, and she couldn’t contact her ship with her earpiece.

“No, no, no…” she muttered. “This can’t be happening. It can’t.”

She sat against the speeder and heaved a loud and pained sigh. The Sith were coming and now she couldn’t contact her crew to escape this place. Jhosua had abandoned her, and there was a chance he wasn’t coming back. She was alone.

***                                                                                                                  ***

Jhosua noticed Ralina’s absence immediately. ''You should have gone back for her. We had an agreement with her. '' Jhosua shook his head. “No, it would be worth it. I’d waste too much time.” He kept walking, but it was a slower pace than he would have liked. His head kept telling him to go back and force Ralina to accompany him. He wouldn’t do it. He needed to reach the archives in time. He wouldn’t get the chance if the Sith destroyed the Jedi Enclave.

Hundreds of Jedi were assembled in the main courtyard, around the gnarled old tree planted by the founder of the Jedi Enclave here on Dantooine. Most of the ones speaking aloud were Jedi Masters, but some Jedi Knights, bold as they were, occasionally interrupted them to speak. None of them noticed Jhosua sneak through their midst; he was invisible to them. He couldn’t explain why, but they did not cast him a passing glance. A young Jedi Knight, some years older than Jhosua himself, with fiery red hair, spoke as Jhosua retreated into the lower levels of the Jedi Enclave.

He was alone in the elevators, and no one stopped him in the subterranean halls. There was hardly anyone wandering the dimly lit passages, and Jhosua carefully avoided any encounters with the few Jedi that were still there. Using his intuition to guide him, Jhosua found his way to the computer archives located at the far end of the lower levels. The room itself was empty except for the titanic computers stored within, so Jhosua headed inside without hesitation.

Now at the computer monitor, Jhosua struggled to remember the password to log into the database. He didn’t know it; he had never been here. But… he knew it. He didn’t know how, but somehow, in the depths of his mind, he could see himself using the Jedi archives here on Dantooine, and he could feel his fingers hitting the keyboard, and he could hear the tones as positive search results came up. In a fit of frustration, Jhosua typed in a random code. It worked. He was in. That shouldn’t have worked… 

“Go, Jhosua. You don’t have much time,” he said to himself. ''You’re right, you’re right. I’m working.'' He frantically typed in his brother’s name into the query bar. Ibrays Weros.

The results flashed on the screen. ‘Ibrays Weros – KIA – Subject: Classified.’ He clicked on the name, hoping to read the information the Jedi had on his brother. He was denied. They wouldn’t even let him see his records. Shouting profusely, he typed in his own name instead. Jhosua Weros. The results were similar. ‘Jhosua Weros – Rep. Army Corporal – Subject: Classified.’ He clicked his name, but he couldn’t see the information. No!  He had gotten so far, fought his way into the Enclave just before the Sith rained hell upon it, and he couldn’t even acquire the information he sought.

Ever since he had finished his mission on Wayland, he had been troubled. No, it was before then. All the way back at Sluis Van, when he hit those mines. Something was wrong. As he faded between death and life, he had heard the voice of his brother, Ibryas. But that was impossible. Ibrays Weros had killed himself during the Mandalore Wars nearly a decade and a half earlier.

The voice had gotten stronger every time he approached death, especially during battle. It eventually died down, but Jhosua could never get rid of it completely. It was always there, dwelling in the back of his head like an unexpected guest. Recently, he had been flooded with memories, and they did not belong to him. Or did they? He didn’t remember. It was all so confusing, and he wanted to find answers here, at the Jedi Enclave.

He hadn’t realized it before, but his angry screams had awoken someone in a nearby room, and they were calling out for help. Leaving the computer behind for a moment, Jhosua headed out and followed the source of the voice to the infirmary. Kolto tanks lined the walls on the far side of the room, and a few cots were set up to allow recently-ejected patients to rest. A young woman was lying in one of the cots. Her hair, red like blood, was tied into a ponytail behind her head, and she was fitted into a standard-issue medical smock. Her sickly face had scars and bruises from some unknown assailant. His memory was failing him, but he swore he saw her somewhere before. She was weakly calling out someone’s name, but it was unintelligible to Jhosua.

“Who are you?” Jhosua asked, bending down on one knee so her eyes could meet hers.

“… Master…” he heard her say.

“You’re a Jedi Master? Why are you here? Who are you?” he asked.

She didn’t respond, but her eyes, which were nearly closed until now, suddenly opened and revealed their true nature like a window into her soul. Her eyes were a hauntingly pale color, and malice flowed from them. A telepathic shockwave tossed the various medical equipment and cots and scattered them about the room. She realized that the attack had not affected Jhosua – to his own surprise – and attacked again. The telepathic whirlwind that followed shattered the glass of the empty kolto tanks and whipped up the discarded medical equipment so it flew around the woman as she stood up to face Jhosua.

He stood in the midst of the flying medical tools and broken glass, ignoring the potential danger he was in. Face-to-face with the woman now, she stood at her full height, imposing as she could be, and she spat at Jhosua. She tried to use the Force to snatch one of his blaster pistols for herself, but when that failed, she simply grabbed it from its holster. Jhosua replied in kind, stepping back and pointing the blaster he took from Ralina at the woman. Now in a standoff, Jhosua and the woman stared at each other through the sights of their blaster pistols.

“Who are you?” Jhosua asked again.

“You first,” she sneered.

“Jhosua Weros.”

Her eyes widened. “Jhosua? No… you can’t be. He was so young…”

“What?”

“I met someone named Jhosua on Sluis Van,” the woman said, lowereing her blaster for a moment. “But he was pale, and he wasn’t muscular at all. You don’t look like him.”

“It’s been several years since Sluis Van,” Jhosua noted. “I’ve grown.”

“So you have,” the woman said, smiling. She returned her weapon to Jhosua, and then stepped back so she could sit down on her cot. The vortex of IVs, scalpels, pills, and glass fell to the floor as she stopped her telepathic attack, and she collapsed to her knees to join her fallen projectiles.

“Who are you?” Jhosua asked.

“You don’t remember? I’m… I’m… Lamyia,” she said, but she seemed unsure. As if she had said something inappropriate.

“Lamyia?” Jhosua repeated. He thought for a moment, but he was certain he did not know anyone by that name. “Never seen you before.”

“But you have!” Lamyia said. “I came to check up on you for Colonel Eto, and then we talked about your brother.”

“No. That was a Jedi Knight,” Jhosua countered. “You look like a Sith. How did you get here?”

Lamyia shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it. I’ve replayed my survival several times in my head since I got here, and…” she hid her face behind her hands. “I’ve killed so many people. I didn’t know I could, but he-”

The entire building shook violently, nearly knocking Jhosua off his feet. No!  he thought. ''You’re wasting your time. Don’t listen to her. Just leave her; the Sith are coming. ''

“I… I feel faint. I’ve… I’ve been betrayed. Can you… can… fetch my things, Jhosua?” Lamyia said quietly.

Jhosua glanced at the small metal crate she pointed to, situated comfortably near a broken kolto tank. Walking over to it, somewhat hesitantly, Jhosua opened the crate and pulled out dark robes. They seemed like Jedi robes, but they were more ornate and were stained with enough blood for the blots to be designs on the cloth itself. He withdrew a few crystals and trinkets before finally pulling out her lightsaber – a vicious hilt, with spikes near the emitter and a hook at its base.

“Did you find it all?”

“Yes,” Jhosua assured her, “but I’m not giving these things to you just yet. Once we’re off the planet, maybe. Until then, I can’t trust you.”

“I understand. I’m not quite sure I trust myself right now, either.”

''Are you mad? You can’t just trust random Force-sensitives, especially if they’re Sith,'' he thought. “I know her, and she knows me. She’s won’t hurt me,” he assured himself. Those thoughts seemed fainter now, and not nearly as important. “Come on, I have a speeder waiting,” Jhosua said, addressing her

“Do you have transport offworld?”

Jhosua grimaced for a moment. “No, but I think I can fix that.”

***                                                                                                                  ***

Ralina was still sitting against the bumper of her speeder. Her eyes ached as the last few tears dried against her face. What a way to go. After killing hundreds of Sith, from the cockpit of a fighter to the comfortable seat of her own ship, she was going to be killed in the most helpless way possible: bombardment. She couldn’t even contact her crew. Tell them how sorry she was. Tell them how much they all meant. It was just too late.

She could see the Sith Interdictors now. Their hulls encompassed the midday sky, eclipsing the Dantooine sun and causing a looming darkness to fall over the entire continent. Their turbolasers lit up the clouds, firing blue bursts of ion from space toward the continent, tearing up earth, foliage, and metal in the distance. They were getting closer, and Sith bombers were already flying overhead, dropping their payloads on the Jedi Enclave itself and preparing it for its ultimate destruction.

Suddenly, her earpiece chimed. The shock sent her heart bounding into her throat. “Fetcher? Manda? Is that you?”

“Sorry, it’s just me – Jhosua,” the man on the other end replied. “However, I’ve got some news you’ll want to hear.”

Ralina almost cried out in pain. “Jhosua, we’re all going to die here! And it’s your fault! I don’t want to hear your voice before I die.”

“Just listen, please. I’m here in the comm. room, and I can send a long-range communication for you, so you can call for help. Can you do that?”

“What’s the catch?” Ralina asked, sighing aloud.

“We need to alter our deal,” Jhosua admitted. “You may have a few extra Force-sensitive passengers to deal with.”

“Jedi? No!” Ralina screamed into the comlink. “No Jedi. You can come… if you must. I suppose you’ve earned that much. But no Jedi!”

“You’ll either help me transport these Jedi, or we’ll die here,” Jhosua offered plainly.

“Damn you. Just get me a link to the Hound’s Sapphire. I’ll give you its coordinates if you need them.”

“Very well. Just give me a minute.”

It took less than ten seconds for Fetcher’s voice to chime in from the other side of the channel. “Ralina! You’re still alive?”

Ralina smiled widely when she heard her first mate’s voice. “Fetcher, I’ve never been so happy to hear you! I’m alive, but in a few minutes, that may change. Where are you?”

“We’ve been lingering near the edge of the system for some time,” Fetcher said. “We’re ready. Tell us where you need to be picked up.”

“Oh, Fetcher. You aren’t going to like this,” Ralina said, chuckling at her horrible luck. “I’m… we’re outside the Jedi Enclave.”

Fetcher sighed. “So this is either going to be the greatest rescue in the history of the Republic, or the fastest suicide run? Wonderful. See you on the other side, Captain. Fetcher out.”

***                                                                                                                  ***

The Sith shock troopers had taken the Jedi by surprise. Using rapid deployment dropships and rocket packs, Sith soldiers and Dark Jedi had fallen right on top of the Jedi Enclave, striking at the Jedi’s vulnerable heart. Lightsabers clashed in the courtyard and in the dorms, and Jedi and Sith alike died in large numbers. The Dantooine Council, the only Jedi strong enough to turn the tide of such an ambush, were offworld, having been forewarned about the attack by the Force. It was difficult for Jhosua and Lamyia to navigate the battle in the courtyard.

They had almost gotten through when Lamyia stopped Jhosua. “Let me speak with Master Kalthar.”

“Who?” Jhosua turned and asked her.

But she was already gone. With only a blaster pistol to defend herself and still dressed in a medical smock, she cautiously pushed her way through the fighting Jedi and their enemies. Jhosua, himself virtually unnoticed by both the Jedi and their dark opponents, remained positioned behind a shrub to hide himself from passing Sith soldiers. He peeked out from his hiding place and saw Lamyia approach a Kel Dor Jedi Master who had just dispatched two Dark Jedi. She spoke to him rather briefly and pointed toward the eastern exit of the Jedi Enclave. Placing his free hand on his wrinkled head, the Kel Dor paused for a moment before sending Lamyia on her way.

When she returned, Jhosua confronted her about the delay. “What did you do that for?”

“You told the girl on the other end to expect Jedi. I was making sure that you weren’t lying.”

“I was talking about you.”

Lamyia frowned. “Master Kalthar thinks I’m a Republic officer who was wounded over Polus. I may have been a Jedi, once, but I don’t think I’m worthy to carry the title anymore.”

“Why? What did you do?” Jhosua asked.

“If we survive this, I’ll try and explain everything. We should hurry; the Sith aren’t going to hold off their attack just because they have soldiers fighting here.”

Jhosua and Lamyia fled the Jedi Enclave, and, to Jhosua’s surprise, they were followed by several Jedi Knights and quite a few Padawans. Meeting Ralina – it appeared as though she was going to have a heart attack at any moment – in the fields outside the building, Jhosua quickly introduced Lamyia to her so the antsy smuggler wouldn’t attack.

“Where’s the ship?” Jhosua asked, somewhat impatient.

“Not here yet,” Ralina barked back.

“What?” Jhosua shouted. “Where is it?”

“Hey, you lunatic. Next time you want a ship to navigate through a Sith blockade and land in the middle of a warzone at the speed of light, why don’t you call up your own pilots?” Ralina shot back.

“Excuse me,” the red-haired Jedi Knight from the courtyard spoke up. “This really isn’t the time to be arguing. The Sith Interdictors are coming, and there are Sith following us.”

As if on cue, a blaster shot tore through the shoulder of a Whiphid Jedi Padawan standing near Jhosua. Several more blaster shots followed, prompting the dozen or so remaining Jedi to activate their lightsabers. Jhosua, Ralina, and Lamyia took cover behind the speeder. From their position, they could shoot at the incoming Sith troopers with relative ease. However, the Jedi remained in the open, deflecting blaster fire and drawing attention away from the allies. There were nearly a dozen Sith troopers, and the Padawans were having trouble deflecting all the blaster fire headed toward them.

“Adar!” a Bothan Jedi called out to the red-haired Jedi Knight, who appeared to be the leader. “We can’t hold this position! What are we going to do?”

“We will hold this position, Force-willing! Just stay strong for a while longer, for the Padawans!” Adar urged.

Four Dark Jedi emerged from the entryway to the Jedi Enclave, and they charged at the six remaining Jedi. The first two attacked Adar and his Bothan companion, while the other two doubled up and attacked the last four Padawans. They ignored Jhosua and the two women and left them to the Sith troopers.

“Jhosua!” Lamyia cried. “Give me my lightsaber!”

“Why?” he asked.

“I can aid the Jedi! They won’t stand a chance on their own!”

“No. I can’t trust you!”

“Jhosua-”

Lamyia’s voice was cut off by the roar of an engine. The Hound’s Sapphire rapidly descended into the plains nearby. The freighter was being pursued by two Sith starfighters, but some quick turret shots from the Hound’s Sapphire ended their attack before it could begin. The ship’s cargo doors opened up, and Fetcher was waiting inside – rocket launcher in hand – to help his allies into the ship. Ralina laughed and dropped her blaster rifle at her feet. Turning from the battle, she sprinted madly toward her ship. Jhosua and Lamyia followed her, but the Jedi couldn’t break off and join them.

Fetcher helped Ralina, Jhosua, and Lamyia into the ship with his free hand. Once they were safely inside, he launched a few rockets at the Sith troopers in the distance.

“Are we ready to go?” Ralina asked the Shistavanen pilot.

“Whenever you are, Captain,” he replied.

“Wait for the Jedi!” Lamyia said. “This is their only chance!”

“They’re doomed,” Ralina noted. “They can’t fight those evil Jedi. They’re too strong.”

“She’s right,” Fetcher said. “Besides, the Leviathan  is coming. If we don’t get out of here, fast, we’ll be bombed into dust by Darth Malak’s ships.”

“Just wait! Have faith in their abilities, please!” Lamyia pleaded.

“Orders, Captain?” Fetcher asked.

“… Leave them. Let’s go,” she commanded.

“Wait,” Jhosua said. “Do you have a sniper rifle in here?”

Fetcher thought for a second. “Not a sniper rifle-”

“Any rifle?”

Fetcher took the combat slugthrower off his back and threw it to Jhosua. Kneeling, Jhosua made sure the weapon itself was level before peering through the scope itself. It was a poorly constructed pair of sights, and the crosshairs were slightly off. It didn’t matter. He slowed his breathing as much as he could, calming his nerves. Checking the magazine one last time, he held his breath and aimed at one of the Dark Jedi fighting two Padawans.

The slug ripped through the Dark Jedi’s head. A bloody mist whipped up behind him, and his skull exploded into tiny fragments. The Force had failed that Dark Jedi, and his headless body flopped, freeing two Padawans from a similarly gruesome fate. They sprinted toward the Hound’s Sapphire  in an amateur display of Force-empowered sprinting. At Adar’s behest, the Bothan broke off from his Dark Jedi foe, and Adar – wielding two lightsabers – engaged his own opponent and the Bothan’s. The Dark Jedi fighting the last two Padawans managed to kill one, but another shot from Jhosua’s rifle saved the life of the other.

The three surviving Padawans and the Bothan Jedi Knight reached the Hound’s Sapphire safely, but Adar was still fighting his two Dark Jedi opponents. Jhosua managed to shoot one of them in the throat, but the fallen Dark Jedi was replaced by several more, complimented by Sith troopers, from inside the Jedi Enclave.

“Run, boy!” Fetcher called out to the last Jedi.

“He can’t!” the Bothan noted. “If he retreats now, the Dark Jedi will cut him down, or just follow him to the ship.”

“I can still save him!” Jhosua called out.

“Captain, Fetarollias. If we do not leave now, our chances of avoiding the Sith fleet will be even closer to zero,” Jon’s automated voice spoke up. “Recommended departure time: 15 seconds and counting…”

“Just go!” Adar called out, his voice overpowering the ship’s engines for a moment. “There’s no point waiting for me!”

“Don’t leave him!” a young female Padawan called out. “Please save him!”

“We have to leave!” Ralina said. “Jon, close the hangar doors. Start the engines.”

“No!” the girl cried. “No, no, no! Don’t leave Adar! Don’t leave him! Please!”

Jhosua took several more shots, killing a few Sith troopers that happened to stumble into his line of sight, but it wasn’t enough. There were far too many Sith now. Groaning, he took aim at one of the six Dark Jedi that moved toward Adar, but his shot missed. He moved to reload the weapon, but he realized he didn’t have any spare slugs on him. “I need some more ammo!” he called out.

“Sorry,” Fetcher said. “We’re out of slugs.”

The hangar doors closed even as the young, brown-haired Padawan tried to escape and help Adar. Lamyia held her back, even as the girl continued kicking and screaming. The Hound’s Sapphire  took off, and Jhosua thought he could see Adar charge into the host of enemies closing in on him just before the hangar’s small viewport was enveloped by the blackness of space. He threw the rifle to the ground in otherwise silent frustration.

“We’re not out of trouble yet,” Ralina said. “Just because we escaped the planet, doesn’t mean the Sith fleet won’t come to bid us farewell. Fetcher, join me on the bridge. The rest of you can stay here, if you please.”

Ralina and Fetcher left the cargo bay, and Lamyia sat down with the young girl to comfort her and try and dry her tears, leaving Jhosua alone with the confused Jedi in the back of the room. Stumbling over to some empty crates, Jhosua sat down against them and cupped his head into his hands. It was over, but they weren’t done. It was just like Ralina said. They weren’t out of trouble just yet. He suddenly realized that he had been injured – his arm was caked in blood from earlier and his chest was charred and bruised. The shock of this revelation, and the howling pain in his head, drove him into bitter unconsciousness.

Chapter 11

Raen was up before the sun had risen over the hills. It was still dark when he went out to the brook and cleaned not only his clothes, but the sheets, towels, and various rags he had used during the past few days. He carried the wet wares and threw them across a wire that hung between Thon’s home and a tall, jagged rock a few meters away. After replacing his dirty robes for a new pair, he headed out to the dusty plains in front of Thon’s abode and began his morning stretches.

This was the routine he had undertaken for the past three months, though it seemed like an eternity. Time was a strange thing here, in this world of order and strict schedules. Not even the landscape around him seemed to change – after all, how much drier could the wastelands get? The only hint that he had even aged during this training regimen was the light beard he had acquired. For all the various knick-knacks Thon had collected during his travels, razors were hard to come by. He had once entertained the idea of using a lightsaber, at low power of course, but decided against it when Ranval tried it out for himself. The hapless Miraluka probably still had burns from the experience.

He had never felt so alive. The training was brutal at times, to be sure. While Thon played the role of the good and fatherly trainer, Northeus played the unsympathetic martinet. Even so, he was indebted to Master Thon, and also to Master Northeus – begrudgingly. He had not faced training like the Councilor’s since his days as a young Sith pupil. De’dlay’s vicious routines almost paled in comparison. Here, he was forced into ten mile runs, fought the native wildlife, used the Force until exhaustion, and then dueled other Force-users after everything else was done. It was hard, but it was worth it, and Raen recognized that.

Ranval joined Raen as the sun was just barely peering out from its lofty resting place behind the hills. He was dressed in a light training robe, just like Raen, but his was gray instead of black. The two continued to stretch in silence, even after Gaiel and Jasparan arrived, until all of them had prepared themselves for the long day ahead. Master Thon left his house sometime later, followed by Northeus.

“Good morning, Masters,” the four trainees said at once.

“Ahhn. Good morning, young ones. Today we shall see if you are worthy to move on in your training,” the sagely Jedi Master said.

“What do you mean, Master?” Gaiel asked.

This time, Northeus spoke. “You will face your designated combat-partner, and we will judge your performance. If we deem you skilled and prepared to face the next level of training, you will be allowed to advance. If not, we will ask that you head to Coruscant and receive more formal training until you are adequately prepared.”

“Are you ready, young ones?” Thon wondered aloud.

The question lingered in the air as Northeus gave the Jedi learners their weapons. Gaiel and Ranval were allowed to take their own lightsabers, while Raen took the one he had acquired on Dantooine. Jasparan, unique among them, kept his staff to use in combat. The other Jedi didn’t mind – it created a challenge. However, none of them had ever seen him use a lightsaber, and they wondered amongst themselves if he even used one.

Gaiel and Ranval went first. After performing the necessary pre-battle formalities, the two Jedi engaged each other in combat. Raen noticed that Gaiel, as always, proved a patient adversary during battle. Ranval had trouble penetrating the Nautolan’s whirling viridian defense, and despite his best efforts, he could not land a blow on Gaiel. His attacks were strong and fluid, but they simply could not make contact. Overhead strike after overhead strike, side-lunge after side-lunge, and the Miraluka struggled in vain. Gaiel finally switched to the offensive, and Ranval proved an equally valiant opponent. He defended himself well against the Nautolan’s smooth, interconnected blows, but he ultimately did not have the stamina to keep parrying the elder Jedi’s strikes. After a while of trading blows, Ranval was struck on the thigh with Gaiel’s powered-down lightsaber, and the match ended.

“Good work, both of you,” Northeus said. “Gaiel, your offense and defense have both improved dramatically, and Thon and I are pleased with your results. We’ve discussed your progress amongst ourselves, and we feel you should pursue the art of Ataru.”

“Of course, Masters,” Gaiel said, head bowed. “If I may. Is there a reason you would not advise me to learn Soresu?”

“We feel that your defensive capabilities are quite impressive, as though you were a natural at the art of Soresu. Ataru, we think, would be a natural fit for you, and its acrobatics would add variety and an unpredictable aspect to your offense,” Thon answered.

Gaiel nodded and bowed before returning to the other side of the arena.

Northeus turned to his Padawan. “Ranval, you defended yourself admirably against Gaiel, and you fought no less valiantly.”

“But I lost, Master,” Ranval said dejectedly.

“Nrggh. It does not matter who wins and who loses,” Thon growled. “You are Jedi. Your training here is for the betterment of self, not a competition between each other.”

Ranval flinched at Thon’s reproach and bowed quickly. “I am sorry, Masters. I forget my place.”

Northeus nodded and continued: “It is true, you have some work to do, but you are a Jedi, and you are still young. Pursue your lightsaber skills with earnest, and keep practicing. I shall train you personally until you may easily adapt a lightsaber style to fight with.”

Ranval nodded and returned to his place beside Gaiel. Raen and Jasparan were called forth by the two Jedi Masters, and Raen nearly jumped in anticipation. Heading into the dueling circle, Raen took his lightsaber off his belt and faced his elderly opponent. Jasparan gave him a disapproving look and cast off his cloak. The old man had never forgotten Raen’s past as a Sith, it seemed, and he still bitterly disproved of Thon and Northeus’s decision to train him. As such, he ferociously fought Raen in the dueling arena and during practice, eager to prove himself to his superiors and make the former Sith look weak in the process.

Raen bowed low to Jasparan before activating his lightsaber. The old man responded with a curt bow and placed his staff between himself and Raen. After checking to make sure his lightsaber was weakened, Raen moved in to attack his opponent. His first blow struck at Jasparan’s right shoulder, but the lightsaber was blocked by the wood of Jasparan’s cane. The young man’s lightsaber hissed and sparkled against the staff, as though it was striking another lightsaber. With a show of force, Jasparan pushed Raen and his weapon away, sending Raen flying back into the dirt.

Raen recovered his footing quickly, but not soon enough. Jasparan was upon him before he could completely recover. The staff came down on him, eager to bruise and bloody Raen’s arms, like it had on the first day of their training. Not today, though. Throwing his azure blade between himself and Jasparan’s weapon, he deflected the first few vertical strikes from the old man. Jasparan’s ferocity was not encumbered by Raen’s defenses, and the old man continued his attack, throwing in a more powerful horizontal strike every so often to try and catch Raen off-balance. By the time Jasparan’s first flurry of strikes had ended, Raen was already at the edge of the dueling circle and still reeling from the attacks thus far.

However, Raen knew Jasparan’s offensive techniques better than the old man did. They had fought so many times; he had come to memorize them. The old man was quite skilled, to be sure, but he was prone to repetition and easily slipped into patterns and cycles of the same attack, over and over. Raen never had the chance to exploit this weakness before, but he was intent on doing so now. Blocking Jasparan’s first three vertical strikes – they were always aimed at his shoulders – with ease, Raen moved to the side to avoid the old man’s first horizontal strike. Now facing Jasparan’s exposed side, the younger duelist spun around and aimed at Jasparan’s back. The old man proved too quick for Raen, and a Force push – perhaps too powerful for a practice duel – sent Raen flying away from his intended target.

Again, he recovered, and the duel continued. They exchanged attempts to strike at each other for some time, but neither of them could break the other’s defense. Suddenly, Raen felt a light tremor in the Force. It was subtle, but it was there. The Force was telling him to perform a leap to the left, and then attack his opponent from behind. ''There was no way that would work… would it? '' The younger duelist parried a few more strikes from the old man and heeded the Force’s call. Leaping to Jasparan’s side, the speed of the jump allowed him to safely avoid a strike from Jasparan’s cane and land safely. Kicking at the back of his legs, Raen knocked the old man to the ground with ease.

Jasparan rolled on the ground quickly, placing his staff in between himself and Raen. But it was over. The younger duelist struck at Jasparan several times, but the old man blocked all his strikes due to the natural length of his weapon. Frustrated, Raen lifted his lightsaber over his own head and brought it down upon Jasparan with all the force he could muster. A loud crack resounded throughout the area as Raen’s weapon – even in its powered down state – shattered Jasparan’s cane into bits and splinters, and then struck the old man on the chest.

Backing up slowly, Raen was content with his victory. He deactivated his lightsaber and after placing it on his belt, reached out to help Jasparan to his feet. However, the old man pushed away his hand and, suddenly, rose to his feet in a flash. A piece of his broken staff was in his hand, and, to Raen’s surprise, it was hollow. The old man, now seething with rage, withdrew his lightsaber’s hilt from its hiding place within the staff and promptly discarded the useless piece of wood. Activating his own blue lightsaber, Jasparan rushed at Raen, who had to throw up his own lightsaber in self-defense.

“Grrah! Stop, Jasparan,” Thon bellowed. “You have been defeated. Drop your weapon.”

But Jasparan did not hear the old Jedi’s order. He kept striking at Raen in a wild fury, performing uncoordinated attacks and vicious blows that threatened to sever Raen’s limbs should he fail to block them. With a single motion, Jasparan used the Force to constrict Raen’s wrist. Gasping in pain, the younger Jedi dropped his weapon and found himself vulnerable to Jasparan’s assault. As the old man’s weapon came down, Northeus leapt in front of Raen and deflected Jasparan’s lightsaber with his own weapon. This was the first time any of them had seen one of Northeus’s famed silver lightsabers, and Raen was subtly awed to see such a beautiful blade.

“Jasparan,” Northeus whispered, quite threateningly, “drop your weapon. Or I will make sure you do not harm anyone here – in the matter I find necessary.”

The old man suddenly came to, releasing his anger and hate for a moment and realizing what he had done. Shamed, he deactivated his lightsaber and left the dueling circle. Raen picked up his lightsaber and went to follow him, but Northeus held him back. With a shake of his head, he ensured Raen stayed close to Thon in case Jasparan decided to lash out again.

“You all did very well, and you fought with skill and bravery,” Thon said. “Ahhn. I have not have such talented pupils for many years. Together, you would make a powerful force, in combat and in matters of peace. I think you all have deserved a chance to continue your training here, should you desire to stay here longer.”

“I will not be able to attend to your training any longer, I’m afraid,” Northeus said. “I must return to Coruscant. Some matters have arisen that have the High Council worried.”

“What sort of matters, Master Ulsan?” Gaiel asked.

“Alderaan has fallen to the Sith, and we suspect Malak may plan to stage his attack on the Core Worlds from there,” Northeus contemplated his words even as he spoke them.

“Alderaan? Fallen?” Raen repeated in disbelief. “How?”

“I do not know,” Northeus admitted. “The High Council might know more, but for now, all I know is that the Republic is in grave danger.”

“Masters,” Jasparan said, speaking for the first time since the duel, “it is good that we are all here. You’ve said that you haven’t trained such powerful students in years. We can retake Alderaan for the Republic and end the Sith threat here.”

“What? What are you talking about, Jasparan?” Ranval asked, clearly intrigued.

“Thon and many Jedi of old knew of a way to seal the dark side,” Jasparan explained. “They call it the wall of light. It is a great power, known to very few Jedi of this age, and it can be used as a weapon against our enemies.”

“Is this true?” Ranval asked.

“Hghh. It is true,” Thon confirmed. “Many Jedi with me ended the terrible war against Exar Kun, trapping him in the depths of one of Yavin’s moons. I alone remain of all the Jedi who fought against him. The knowledge – how to apply this great power – is mine to teach, or to withhold.”

“Master,” Jasparan said. “You would not withhold this gift from us, would you?”

Thon growled tiredly. “I teach my students everything, in due time. To know the power of this wall of light, a Jedi must reach into his very being, and project himself as an outward manifestation of the light.”

“So?” Jasparan said, his voice nearly cracking in anticipation. “Teach us this power!”

“I am sorry, Jasparan,” Thon said. “I do not think you – any of you – are ready to endure the trials and training necessary to learn this skill. It is simply too powerful and too dangerous.”

Jasparan’s eyes alit with a fire that Raen hadn’t seen in him before. The old man shook violently, as though he was going to explode at any moment. Gaiel and Ranval backed away from him, and he stepped toward Thon. Each step he took rumbled against the ground, and his telekinetic powers seemed to go wild around him. Standing face to face with the elderly Jedi Master, Jasparan shouted at the top of his lungs, condemning Thon’s restraint, and then turned to leave. Northeus moved to intercept him, but Thon stepped between the two.

“Do not stop him. He must forge his own path.”

Northeus watched bitterly as Jasparan disappeared into the distance, using the power of the Force to sprint across the wasteland away from Thon’s home. The remaining Jedi stood quietly for some time, saying nothing to each other. Raen was confused and shocked at the sudden outburst in Jasparan, and he didn’t understand why it had happened. Had Jasparan been that eager to learn those powers from Thon? And why had Thon allowed him to leave?

“Master Thon,” Northeus finally said. “You should have let me go after him. He lacks a right mind, and he could endanger you.”

“Grahh. Endanger me? I am in no danger. I can see death standing on the horizon by the sun’s light, and every night, he seems to sneak closer. What time I have I will use wisely. Do not fear for my safety, Northeus, but for the sanctity and survival of the Jedi Order we swore to defend.”

Northeus bowed at Thon’s words, realizing that they were more objective and keen than his own.

“Master,” Raen said, in a burst of confidence, “let me go to Alderaan.”

Thon eyed Raen with surprise. “You? Why do you wish to… ah. You think you are prepared to face your past? Deal with the phantoms that still plague Alderaan?”

“Yes.”

“Then I will not hold you back. You must deal with this issue as you see fit, and I cannot keep you here.”

Ranval put his hand on Raen’s shoulder. “I am with you, Raen.”

“Ranval? Why?” Raen asked, admittedly surprised.

“You came to Taris and fought to protect me and my friends. I feel that I should return the favor now that I can,” the Miraluka said.

“You know, you don’t have to-”

Ranval interrupted him. “No, I don’t have to. I want to.”

Raen smiled, and placed his hand on Ranval’s arm. “Thank you.” He turned to Gaiel. “And what about you, Gaiel? Are you going to Coruscant with Master Ulsan?”

Gaiel looked indignant. “Raen, I think I’ve accepted the fact that we’re never going to Coruscant. At least, not in my lifetime. I’m with you – even if we are walking into a Sith stronghold.”

Raen smiled. “Glad to have you on board.”

“Best of luck to you,” Northeus said. “I trust you will take care of Ranval and will keep him out of trouble. Until then, I will go to Coruscant and enlist what aid I can get from the Jedi and the Republic.”

“But don’t hold your breath,” Ranval mused.

Thon walked amidst the soon-to-be departing Jedi. “You have all advanced more than I could have hoped for. Nrggh. It is a sad thing to see you all leave here, but know that you are welcome to return at any time. May the Force be with you. All of you.”

***                                                                                                                  ***

Ralina groaned. It was bad enough that she was trying to escort Jedi from Dantooine to Coruscant at the request of her passengers, and now she was having trouble doing that. It was always something. If it wasn’t a stubborn dockworker who lost his timetable and didn’t know that the Hound’s Sapphire  was allowed to dock, it was a crazed Twi’lek customs officer who didn’t speak Basic.

Ralina nearly screamed at the Twi’lek. “We. Are. Trying. To. Get. To. The. Jedi. Temple. Temple! Big, fancy-looking building that everyone on Coruscant sees at least once during their evening commute!”

The Twi’lek officer mumbled something in Huttese, and then opened up a file on his desk. He suddenly pulled out a picture of Ralina, albeit several years younger, and showed it to her. He asked her something in Huttese, probably to confirm if she was the same person.

“Oh…” Ralina mumbled. “That’s not… I mean, no, sir. That can’t be me. Her hair is… too long. And I don’t wear blue eyeliner… anymore,” she added under her breath.

The Twi’lek customs officer seemed unconvinced, and he reached for the comlink on his desk. Jhosua walked up to Ralina as the Twi’lek was tuning his comlink to the proper frequency. After trading a few words in Huttese, the Twi’lek seemed acquiesced by the ex-soldier’s explanation, whatever it was that he said, and the dockworker opened the doors to the docks for Ralina and her company.

“What did you say?” Ralina asked, shocked.

“I told him that your name was Lamyia Weros, and you arrived with a small task force of Jedi who escaped a recent attack on Dantooine. He still thinks you are a wanted smuggler, but he seemed less-than-eager to pursue anymore questioning, so he let us through,” Jhosua explained.

“Well, thank you,” Ralina paused for a moment. “You helped me out quite a bit on Dantooine. I don’t know if you even got what you dragged me along to help you with – I hope you did. I owe you. But, you and your Jedi friends are leaving, right?” she implored.

“Well, to be fair, I’m not going with the Jedi,” Jhosua clarified, but he could tell that Ralina was worried that he would stick around, so he added: “But I can certainly handle myself from here. Thank you very much, Miss Venli. I’ll take my leave here.” Kissing her hand before she could refuse, Jhosua followed Lamyia and the other Jedi out of the docks.

Ralina shook her head. Strange fellow, she thought. She continued shaking her head all the way up the boarding ramp to the Hound’s Sapphire. She was glad to be done with Dantooine and all the passengers she picked up there. They were technically done with their business on Coruscant as well, but that didn’t mean they were leaving yet. She had to deal with one more potentially troublesome passenger. Walking to the bridge, she was relieved to realize that she had sent Fetcher and Manda to purchase supplies. That meant she had time to speak with Delvin Cortes privately.

“Delvin, if you please,” Ralina said, calling him from his position at the viewport.

“Yes, Captain?” he asked, turning in her direction.

“I have something to ask you.”

“About my status as a Jedi informant?”

Ralina was surprised by his sudden lack of tact. It wasn’t like him. Then again, she really didn’t know him at all. Delvin Cortes had joined her crew a little over a year ago, and she figured he was simply an ex-convict who was down-and-out before she picked him up. Apparently, he knew of the Sith attack before it happened, and – she wasn’t sure before – the fact he was working with someone else had eluded her until now.

Yes… about that. How long have you been a spy for the Jedi?”

“I was an agent for the Jedi Order before I joined your crew. When you found me on Rhommamool, I was told to join your crew by any means necessary,” Cortes explained.

He certainly wasn’t kidding. When they had first met, he had posed as a mechanic and nearly stole the engine out of their first ship, the Cerulean Wolf. It was a ridiculous stunt, and Fetcher was angry at Cortes for months, even after he joined the crew, but Ralina was impressed by his ingenuity and his ability to adapt. So she brought him on board.

“Why?” she asked.

Cortes pondered the question for a moment, as if it actually entailed a great deal of thought. Scratching his jet-black hair, he hoped to make the charade more believable, but Ralina clearly wasn’t buying it. “I am unsure if I’m at liberty to speak,” Cortes noted.

“Would you like me to put ‘liberty’ through your skull?” Ralina motioned toward a blaster pistol at her side.

“That won’t be necessary,” Cortes said, sighing. “You should know that I never did anything to undermine the status or condition of you or the rest of the crew. Quite the contrary, in fact.”

“Oh? Explain.”

“Do you recall when we were nearly ambushed by the Leviathan after raiding Convict’s Dawn ? It was I who requested the aid of the Jedi. I was to ensure that our crew would be able to transport Gaiel and his companion to Polus without delays, and to make sure that they could readily continue on their way to Coruscant. And, as you know, I kept the rest of the crew from falling prey to the Sith fleet over Dantooine.”

“Were you responsible for setting us up with those jobs from that deplorable Jedi before we met the Nautolan Jedi and his friend?”

“That ‘deplorable Jedi’ is my boss. So yes,” Cortes said dryly.

“Why?” Ralina asked again. She tried to hide it, but the pain of his betrayal was evident in her voice. “What… what could the Jedi want from me?”

“From you?” Cortes nearly laughed at the idea. “Nothing. With you? You serve as an able courier and a competent thief, should the situation arise. The Jedi are not above paying a few petty criminals to do their dirty work.”

“Petty criminals?” Ralina spat. The phrase was like poison on her lips. “How dare you? Weren’t you a conman? Weren’t you a crook?”

He said nothing. Suddenly, a thought dawned on Ralina.

“Are you a Jedi?”

He remained silent, but he realized that Ralina’s fears were being realized through his suspicious lack of words. “Have you ever seen me use the Force? Or sensed that I could touch it?” he asked frankly. “Just because I am a Jedi informant does not mean I am a Jedi.”

“That doesn’t mean anything!” Ralina snapped back. “The Jedi can hide their Force powers from others. You know that, and I know that! You could have… wait… Did you say… sense? As in, sense you?”

Cortes nodded.

“How?”

“I was also sent to watch you,” Cortes noted, shrugging slightly.

“Watch me?” Ralina gasped, suddenly getting uncomfortable at the conversation’s direction. “By the Force, Cortes, why?”

“The Jedi thought you could have become a threat.”

“Threat?” Ralina repeated, shivering. “Why would they consider me a threat?”

Cortes stepped from her line of sight for a moment. He paced back and forth in front of the viewport, hands clasped behind his back. Sweat was accumulating above his furrowed brow, but it was more likely from the temperature of the bridge than the situation itself. With every step he took, Ralina’s heartbeat seemed to increase rapidly. She was weary and scared, and she didn’t know what Cortes was planning.

“Many Jedi have fallen since Revan embraced the dark side after the Mandalore Wars,” Cortes mused aloud, still pacing. “Several of them were quite upstanding and prodigious in their own right. Our task has always been to ensure that very few Jedi can stumble and fall.”

“Delvin,” Ralina interrupted him, her voice hoarse, “what does that have to do with me?”

“What is luck, Miss Venli?” Cortes asked, ignoring her question. “It isn’t random chance at its finest. It isn’t the permeating power of some gods. No, it is the Force creating favorable circumstances for those who can feel it.”

Ralina struggled to find her way back to her chair on the bridge, and then fell backwards into it. As she stared blankly into the viewport before her, Cortes stood by her side and placed a single hand on her shoulder, mocking her with false sympathy.

“Smuggler’s luck is no different, really. Your luck is no different.”

Ralina was silent.

Cortes knelt by Ralina’s side, his face level with hers. “When you have a Force-sensitive brother, isn’t it likely that you will have some of that power within you, Captain Venli?”

Ralina stood up, slowly, and ambled off the bridge. Her eyes focused on nothing in particular, and she could hardly force herself to leave Cortes behind and make her way to her room. Everything he was saying was true, and she knew it. She didn’t want it to be true, but she couldn’t deny it. His words made so much sense. And now she was no different. She was exactly the same; the same as Cortes, the same as Gaiel, the same as all those other Jedi she had met and hated. Why?

As she left the bridge, Cortes remained motionless, facing the captain’s chair. He didn’t have anything to collect – he had no belongings. He would return to the Watchcircle now and file his report. His brief stint with Ralina and her smugglers was at an end. “Jon,” he called out.

“Yes, Delvin?” Jon asked.

“Code: Dominus. Send an encrypted report of the events over Dantooine to Master Telerus. And add a note: inform him that the smuggler bought the lie. He’ll know what it means.”

“Of course, Delvin. While I secure a private HoloNet channel to send the data, would you like me to erase the archives of our dialogs up until now?”

“Please and thank you.”

Jon didn’t say anything else, so Delvin presumed he was finished with his tasks. Fetcher’s AI had always been nosy; he had to reprogram it quite a bit to ensure that Jon didn’t reveal anything to Ralina and the rest of the crew beforehand. And with a bit more gratuitous tweaking, the helpless AI was forced to do Delvin’s dirty work – namely, filing reports and sending data to Watchcircle Dominus – while he remained free from suspicion. But now he had to leave. He was no longer safe here.

“Miss Venli,” he whispered, speaking his mind through both his voice and the Force itself, “do not hesitate. When the time comes, you must act. And you will act. The Force wills it.”