The Jedi's Tales/Chapter 4

Almost a year had passed since Shadra had been accepted as Master Fuhlayne’s apprentice. Broot had accepted the fact that he had been overlooked. Or so he thought. The last time he’d had a pang of jealousy, had been a year ago. Except he wasn’t sure it was his own thought. Then, one day, it all changed: another Knight had come and found a padawan, this one the same age Shadra had been when he was selected. Eventually, after what seemed like hours, he fell asleep

Broot recognized the face. As he walked down the street, there was a crowd cheering the hero’s name, a name he knew all too well. The Jedi’s name was known throughout the known galaxy. He was as such a hero that he was frequently compared to Masters Skywalker and Kenobi. The New Hero of the Republic. Personal bodyguard to the Supreme Chancellor. Shading his eyes from the sun he looked up as confetti fell like rain from the sky, cheers pouring from every window, from the highest tower to the lowest diner. The street was packed with beings from all walks of life, honoring the returning hero. Scowling, he looked at one of the nearest holoimages, that placid, turquoise face gazing pleasantly back at him. Then Broot woke up, back in his bunk at the academy.

Unable to get back to sleep, he gazed at the ceiling. He paced around the room. Sat down. Paced some more. Laid down. Tried meditation. As he calmed his mind, he found what was bothering him. Someone was calling to him. Somewhere, down among the myriads of Ithorians, Byss, Aqualish, etc., someone was seeking him out.

Who are you? He asked, reaching out with the Force.

Someone who knows you. Someone you don’t know. Came the reply.

What do you want?

What do you want?

You know what I want.

Greatness.

Looking back as he boarded to Consular-class space cruiser Unstoppable, Shadra Jaye thumbed the activator button of his newly-constructed lightsaber. If it wasn’t for the fact that the place supplied him with the crystals for the weapon, he doubted he’d have any fond memories of Ilum. Aside from a veritable warehouse of lightsaber crystals, the planet itself was nothing more than a snowball spinning in the fringe of space. A Twi’lek, his body was made for cool temperatures, but Ilum made Ryloth’s Nightlands look like Felucia in both temperature and precipitation. No sooner had he entered the bunk he and his teacher shared than a shadow cast itself over the back of his mind. It was relatively minor, but enough to outwardly affect him. “Are you alright, padawan?” inquired Master Fuhlayne.

“I sense a disturbance in the Force.” He replied, closing his eyes.

“Really. Can you tell where it is?”

“No.” Shadra stated as he reached out through the Force.

“Focus.”

“Hmmm… no, still no-… wait, I do sense something. Try contacting the Old Folks’ Home. I’ll continue my search.”

“Timely, your contact is, Master Fuhlayne.” The blue, Yoda-shaped image stated, crestfallen, to the solitary Knight. “Lost, one of our padawans has become.”

“Any idea where he or she may have gone?”

“No, but shrouds much, the cloud of the Dark side does.”

“Who is the padawan?”

“What did you find out?” Shadra asked as he felt Master Fuhlayne enter the room.

“I have bad news.”

“Mm. About Broot.”