Desperate Times/Part 10

Despite plans to raise again the four grand towers that had once stood at the corners of the Jedi Temple, in the time of Tirien Kal-Di only a single tower crowned the Temple—the Tranquility Spire. The entire Temple had been built upon a sacred mountain, a Force nexus unrivalled anywhere on Coruscant, perhaps anywhere in the galaxy. As the Jedi Order had grown and evolved, the Temple had spread outward, but the Tranquility Spire rose over that ancient mountain peak, a commemoration of the Order's roots and a connection to its calming, healing power.

The Tranquility Spire itself housed historical artifacts and meditation chambers, and it was in the Hall of Knighthood near the tower's apex that Padawans laid aside their former lives and were dubbed Knights of the Republic—at least, when time could be spared for that formality. Many Jedi enjoyed the peace of the upper level meditation chambers, but for those who knew the way—or could find it—there were other paths, to deeper, older, and stronger peace. To the roots of the Jedi Temple—to the heart of the Force on Coruscant.

Past the oldest marble, mined when Alderaan was young; beyond the first pylons of durasteel cast in Corellia's first forges; when the work of Coruscant's earliest engineers at last gave way to the labors of those first immigrants from Ossus; there was the stone of the sacred mountain, and there were the chapels and reliquaries where the first Jedi from Ossus and Tython had come to study and pay homage to the Force.

In a chapel adorned with simple geometric designs that might have been purely artistic or possessed mystical symbolism lost to time, bathed in flickering candlelight, Tirien Kal-Di knelt on a mat weathered bare in places by thousands of knees over thousands of years. He studied the designs, willing himself to find an overarching connection in their curves and angles, to be drawn out of the moment, out of himself. He had come here only once some twenty years before, as a small boy, not long after Harshee had recruited him. He had possessed some awareness of the Force in the Temple, surrounded by it every day, but ushered here to the Temple's heart by their Jedi instructor, he and the other Initiates had been almost overwhelmed by the fountain of light. Tirien had been too young to appreciate it fully, but it had left an indelible impression; at once awe-inspiring and frightening to a young boy, the infinite possibilities and realities of a vast galaxy, all woven together and mortared by the Force.

A small boy's mind might make a destroyer of a frigate, but not of empty space. Nowhere in the galaxy was the light side of the Force stronger than in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, and nowhere in the Temple was the light purer and brighter than in the heart of the sacred mountain. Here, if anywhere, the Force could touch anyone, brighten anything, clear away confusion and the evils of the dark side and leave the light in its wake.

Tirien knelt on the woven rug, studying the geometric designs until his eyes started to blur, and felt nothing but the stone beneath his knees and the crushing weight of reality bending him just a bit further.

He had come here to know his path as a Jedi, and he had done his best to look the part. He had washed his face and had a droid trim the hair that was growing a bit too long; he had donned his equipment belt, and even Mali Darakhan's lightsaber; and he had shrouded himself in the simple brown robe that had been the mark of a Jedi since before this chapel had been built. He had dared to hope for restoration, but would settle for guidance, some solitary glimpse into what future could possibly await a Knight without the Force.

"Please help me," he whispered. He felt wetness on his cheeks and brushed it away impatiently. "Please show me a way forward. I can't…what am I supposed to do?  How am I supposed to live like this?  Please help me…"

He knew the wretched vanity of it; quadrillions of beings the galaxy over lived long lives of happiness and fulfillment with no knowledge of the Force. But what would those beings say, Tirien thought with clenched teeth, if they lost sight, if they could not walk or talk or feel? How fulfilled would they believe themselves then? And where cybernetics might give back much that common beings could lose, there was no replicating the Force. Cast out of its embrace, how could he be a Knight?

Without the Force, how could he be a Jedi?

"Please help me…"

Tirien's knees ached and his thighs cramped, but still he knelt imploring the help of the Force…or perhaps he was doing nothing more than speaking to cold, indifferent stone. In time, though, he became aware of running bootsteps.

"Tirien! Thank the Force, I've been looking for you for hours!" Mali Darakhan said. "I…"

As he slowed to a walk and entered the chapel, though, Mali fell silent, overtaken by its power. His eyes widened, and seemingly of their own accord his knees bent, bringing him to the floor at Tirien's side. His eyes closed and he drew a shaking breath, as if he had just surfaced from beneath the water and could breathe at last.

Tirien hated watching it, the concrete proof that the Force was here, just not for him. "What are you doing here?"

Mali started back to himself. He opened his mouth, cast a glance at the chapel wall, then jerked his head toward the door and whispered, "Come with me."

His face showed the urgency of the moment, so Tirien rose. He reached for a candle, but Mali extinguished them both with a wave of his hand. Trying not to resent that, Tirien followed him back through the Temple, closing doors behind them until stone gave way to steel and marble and he felt comfortable asking at full volume, "Mali, what is it?"

The Corellian turned. "Where's Narasi?"

Tirien blinked. "I…ask Slejux."

"Who do you think sent me here?" Mali demanded impatiently. "Have you seen her?"

"No," Tirien replied, frowning. "Not in weeks, since she and Slejux got back. What's happened?"

"She's missing. Aldayr's gone too."

The word missing turned Tirien's stomach, but he forced himself to calm. "Well, they're friends now, aren't they? Maybe they've both stepped out."

Mali's expression conveyed the depths of his disbelief, but before he could argue, Slejux himself came jogging up the corridor. Tirien rarely saw the Melitto Knight hurry; it bespoke a crack in Slejux's usual self-possession, and Tirien felt disquiet creeping back in.

"Have you found them?" he buzzed through his vocoder.

"No," said Mali.

"Are we sure they didn't step out?" Tirien asked. "I told you Narasi's impulsive, it's the sort of thing she might do…just go visit some part of Coruscant to blow off steam…"

"In the Second Chance ?"

In the wake of Slejux's words, Mali's mouth fell open and Tirien froze completely. Slejux did not look from one to the other as most humanoids might have—in some corner of his mind, Tirien realized the cilia on Slejux's face painted an adequate picture no matter which way he was facing—but as the silence stretched on, Slejux's shoulders slumped a little. "They've gone, then."

"Gone where?!" Mali demanded. "I don't have a clue what's going on here."

Now Slejux did point his faceless head at Tirien, and suddenly Tirien knew. Squeezing his eyes shut, he said, "They've gone after Alecto."

"They've WHAT?!" Mali exploded, stunned. "How? Where?!"

"Can you trace their beacons?" Tirien asked.

"They've shut them off," Slejux replied heavily. "And they didn't give the Temple hangar a flight plan, just a departure announcement."

"Get Coruscant Control on the comm, now," Mali commanded. "See if we can trace their outbound."

Tirien thought to point out that Mali was no longer aboard his destroyer and he and Slejux were not Mali's crew, but Slejux was already moving; something about Mali's command presence inspired obedience. Tirien followed them to the chamber near the Temple's roof that housed Jedi Command and its key communications array. Mali repeated his order there, and the Padawans on duty jumped to obey.

"Do you have a tracer on the Second Chance ?" he asked while the Padawans got Coruscant Control on the line and fed them the Second Chance ' s transponder codes.

"What? No, of course not."

"Dammit, Tirien…"

Tirien stared as Mali paced away. "This isn't my fault, Mali. I haven't seen Aldayr since Corellia, and I didn't tell Narasi to hunt down Alecto…"

He trailed off. The idea that his Padawan was rushing off to confront Alecto was horrifying; for the first time he could remember in the Temple, he felt cold. Aldayr's presence was no reassurance; he was surely a skillful Padawan, but even two Padawans were no match for Alecto. If they managed to find her…

Mali whirled back. "No, you just moped around the Temple while she got guiltier and guiltier. If you'd sucked it up a bit, maybe—"

Tirien punched him.

All the anguish and devastation of his loss seemed to explode out of him; though Mali was taller and broader, he staggered from the blow, clutching his jaw with a shocked look. In the next second Slejux was between them, extending a hand to each.

"Enough of this!" the Melitto ordered. "Pull yourselves together!"

Tirien became conscious that all the Padawans had frozen. Mali looked at them, and the angry look starting on his face faded. Still rubbing his jaw, he stepped back and nodded. "Keep at it—get me that flight plan."

The beeps of machinery resumed and the Padawans chattered quietly once again, though Tirien had a strong suspicion they were not discussing the Second Chance. Tirien looked at his knuckles; they had flushed purple. Forcing himself to meet Mali's eyes, he said, "I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry," Mali sighed. "That was heartless, I didn't mean it—"

"But you're right," Tirien breathed. "If I—"

"If anyone is responsible for this, it's me," Slejux said. He faced Tirien, drawing himself up as if steeling himself for a blow too. When he spoke, even his vocoder managed to convey ache in each word. "You entrusted her to me, Tirien, you told me she was impulsive. I felt with my own mind her connection to you, and yet I let this happen right before my cilia.  I'm sorry I didn't deserve the trust you placed in me."

"Nobody's failed yet," Mali said before Tirien could reply. "If we catch them before they do anything really stupid, we can handle this ourselves. Hopefully without the Council becoming involved.  Where's my flight plan?!"

"Coruscant Control's tracing it back, Master Darakhan…" a Dressellian Padawan stalled. "They got the transponder, just pulling up satellite data…"

"Got it!" a Human said. "Rimward on the Perlemian."

The three Jedi Knights looked at each other.

"That doesn't really narrow it down," Tirien said.

"Could be anywhere," Mali agreed. "Alsakan, Grizmallt…"

"There's no reason to go to any of those," Tirien argued. "Back to Anaxes, maybe?"

"If Darth Alecto was on Anaxes she would have been found," Slejux insisted. "The Judicials have been very thorough—excessive, even. I can not believe Darth Alecto could have escaped detection had she stayed."

"Then where?" Mali asked. "They could've run the Perlemian all the way to the Unquenchable Fire unless they took…took the…"

He trailed off, looking appalled, and Tirien asked, "Took the what?"

"Comm Brentaal!" Mali ordered. "See if they rerouted there."

"Took the what, Mali?"

"Took the Hydian," Slejux said heavily, "to Skorrupon."

Tirien watched Mali nod, his face full of dread. "What's on Skorrupon?"

"A trap," Mali answered. "I don't know how either of them could've gotten it, but it's the only lead we've had so far about Alecto. If they're heading there expecting Alecto—"

"We need to go, now," Slejux said.

Mali and Tirien both nodded as the three of them left Jedi Command. "We'll need a shuttle to get all three of us there," Tirien said. "Unless you want to take fighters and try to get there first?"

He was confused when he saw Mali look uncertainly at Slejux; he was not at all sure what emotions Slejux was conveying back in the Force, but it was Mali who faced him in the deserted corridor. "Tirien…you should probably stay."

"What?" Tirien asked, stunned. He looked at Slejux and back. "Slejux has stepped in for me, but Narasi's my Padawan too."

"Tirien, you don't have the Force," said Mali. Each word seemed to age him. "You'd…I'm sorry, brother, but you'd be a liability."

"The Sith expected us to take this lead—expected us to expect Alecto there," Slejux pointed out. "They know we would never entrust a capture like that to commandos, we would have to send Jedi after her—skillful Jedi, accomplished Knights at the least. Whatever the Sith have waiting on Skorrupon, they believe it's enough to handle a threat like that."

Tirien gritted his teeth. "I can't use the Force, but I can still use a blaster, and I can still fight. I was Suwo Tolp's Padawan, I know—"

Mali raised a hand and Tirien flew back. The impact against the wall was painful only for a moment, but he was pinned there like an insect, unable to pry his arms or legs away.

"You're going to have to fight harder than that, brother," Mali said quietly.

He released the hold and Tirien pitched forward. Slejux reached out a hand to steady him, but Tirien wrenched free of the Melitto's grip. "Get off me! I'm going with you both."

"No," Mali said. "Stay here; act as command and control for us. If we get new intel about them, it might come here and bypass us; we'll need you to keep us informed.  Help us where you can be helpful."

"But—"

"Please trust us," Slejux said. "We'll get them back."

I trusted you once already Tirien almost spat, but he restrained himself at the last second. Mali flinched at the anger that had swept over his face and Slejux twitched, undoubtedly perceiving some emission of angry chemical signatures. Tirien glared, feeling the gulf widening between them every moment, but finally snarled, "Then go."

"Tirien, I promise we'll—"

"Go! You're wasting time, aren't you?  So get going!"

Slejux bowed and turned away. Mali lingered for a moment, his mouth open as if he wanted to speak, his face making plain that he could not find the words. At last he sighed and jogged off after Slejux, leaving Tirien alone.