The Hidden Way
Wenn Ley sat in a meditative pose on the sleep couch in her
quarters in the Jedi Temple. Facing her
across the room was a small wooden box, finely crafted, lacquered, and a bit
worn by use. An intrusive thought
entered her mind, an image of her staring down the barrel of heavy
blaster. Then, her assailant falling to
the ground, a blaster bolt through his head.
Wenn turned to see a woman swinging a lightsaber, Wenn's lightsaber
sending the rain of blaster bolts flying away from her and the child that
huddled behind her. Wenn recalled her
attention to the box. The lid of the
box quivered almost imperceptibly, but did not spring open. Wenn sighed, her eyelids parting
horizontally to reveal red Neimoidian eyes.
She rose. Other matters demanded
her attention.
When she arrived outside of the High Council Chamber there
was still plenty of time. The
Neimoidian female tapped her foot slightly, then refrained from doing it
further. She took another deep breath
and reached out to the Force. She would
face them alone. Still, she was a Jedi
Knight now and should be able to face her elders, even with failure. She reminded herself she had survived
worse. Still when the Council doors
slid open, it didn't seem that way.
Master Windu and Master Koth were the only members of the
Council present. That seemed like a
relief, perhaps it was better than having to face all of them. Wenn relaxed slightly.
Master Windu spoke first.
"I understand you wish to leave the ranks of the Order."
"Yes, Master. For a
time, at least," Wenn said.
"And why is that?"
"I doubt myself, Masters."
Do they think I'm a coward? A
Neimoidian coward? I am not. Wenn dismissed the fearful thoughts.
A slight smile came to Master Koth's face. "You've only been a Jedi Knight for a
year. Relatively speaking, you are
young in the ways of the Force. At your
age, I had doubts myself. I still do
about some things. We all do. Wait for wisdom," the Zabrak counseled.
"It is more than that," Wenn said. "There are many doubts about the life I am leading I can no
longer ignore—my abilities, the death of Master Jinn and the return of the
Sith…"
"We understand you had difficulties on your last mission,"
Master Windu said. "Tell us in your own
words."
"Of sorts. During my
studies, I visited the lower realms of Coruscant and had worked with the
indigent and healing the sick. I also
made friends there, with one family in particular—a single mother and community
activist and her only son. They called
me and asked for my help. The community
was awash in addiction to a new drug and the authorities were unwilling or
unable to put a stop to it. It was said
that it was the work of a local crimelord, a Tin-Tin Dwarf known as the
'Assembler'. I went to this individual
and asked that the drug be removed from the streets—immediately. He made several excuses and explained to me
that he had to make a living, but that he would try and "cut back" out of
respect for the Jedi. I told him that I
would be staying with my activist friend until the drug was removed.
"Amazingly, soon enough, it was. I suppose drugs can be sold elsewhere, but I did what I
could. However, it seemed that after
this display, the authorities became involved, cracking down elsewhere. This did not please the Assembler's keepers
and they sent their assassins to pay us a visit. That was when it happened."
"What happened?" Master Koth asked, leaning forward.
Wenn shook her head.
"I should have been able to handle them—the assassins were just humans
with blasters and body armor. There
were six of them and they came in with sonic screamers. Deafened, I used the Force. They fired on me. I was able to dispatch
three of them. The rest of the house
was in chaos—I lost sight of my friend and her boy. I was distracted. Before
I knew it, I found a whipcord enveloping my wrist. Before I could cut it, my lightsaber was thrown halfway across
the room," Wenn said and paused to catch her breath. It was if it had happened minutes ago.
"Take your time," Master Windu said.
"I didn't feel as if I could get to my lightsaber in
time. With a burst of speed, I attacked
him. We grappled for his blaster, but I
flung myself away from him when I saw another one of them about to fire on
me. When I landed I was stunned. I saw a blaster pointed at me. I knew it was over. That moment lingered on forever.
"Looking for my lightsaber, I saw it in the hands of the
mother, her only son just tucked behind her.
Two of the assassins opened fire on both of them. Then I saw it. I could see the fear turn to rage on her face, something like a
hardened snarl. She must have deflected
half a dozen blaster bolts. One flew
back at one of the shooters, killing him.
Another bolt saved me, striking the head of the assassin with his
blaster pointed at me. I came out of my
shock, concentrated and called on the Force to slam the last assassin in the
far wall, knocking him unconscious. I
called my lightsaber to me and made sure the room was clear.
"I spent the better part of a week in that household. I ate and slept among that family. They were not Force-sensitive—mother nor
son. In the aftermath, I had their
midi-cholorian counts taken.
Nothing. Not only did she
deflect those blaster bolts, she saved my life—the person deaf to the Force
saved the one who has heard it all of her life. What she did and how she did it has haunted me, confused me."
"Perhaps you used the Force unconsciously to help the mother
defend her child," Master Windu posed.
"Perhaps, but I did not feel the Force in action in that
room."
"She could have been lucky," Master Koth said. "The universe has its quirks."
Wenn shook her head.
"It took me years to learn that skill.
Years."
"So, what do you think it was?" Master Windu asked.
"I have meditated long on this since returning to the
Temple. I believe she used a power
outside of the Force."
"Outside of the Force?" Windu balked slightly.
"She drew on her determination, her desire. Call it...Mind."
Master Koth's eyes narrowed.
"The Blind Master, who taught centuries before us—"
"We know of him," Windu said. "When his students began competing to master the skills he was
teaching them, he stopped teaching Force disciplines."
"Yes. He only taught
his students how to listen to the Force.
All other manipulations were distractions. However, he spoke of a 'Hidden Path' that he would not teach as
well, a set of skills. I think what
that mother, Kira, showed was the Hidden Path, hidden in plain sight."
"An interesting theory, but only a theory. What are you asking from us?" Master Windu
asked.
"I don't know. I
just don't feel like I am making a difference.
Conflict is rising in the galaxy regardless of our missions, the Sith
have returned...I was almost killed and there was nothing I could do about it,
after a lifetime of training."
"Do you know where you are going?" Master Koth asked.
"There are distant worlds where it is likely the Blind
Master touched during his travels. I
could go. Still, I am confused. I have no will."
"As you have mentioned, all is not well in the galaxy,"
Master Windu said. "All of the Jedi are
needed, now more than ever. I believe
that your theory is likely an error.
But you must do what you must do."
He reclined slightly in his seat.
Wenn knew she was dismissed. She
bowed.
Wenn found herself in her quarters, again. The box sat where she had left it, mocking
her in its way. She tried to sit in
meditation again, she couldn't. There
were too many thoughts coursing through her mind, too many possibilities. Anger and frustration blossomed. How could not open a box she had many times
as a child? Wenn left her quarters
abruptly. She wandered. By the time she passed the Temple Library,
she had pushed her uncertainty into the background, calming herself. She thought of stopping there, but kept
walking. She had spent enough time
there in recent days searching for hints to a power outside of the Force.
She found herself on of the Temple's Landing Decks, where
transports could dock. Also gathered
there were those she semi-seriously called the "Cast Off"—those who had come to
the Temple, but who were now being dismissed or reassigned because they were
thought too old to be trained, not strong enough in the Force, were not chosen
as a padawan learner by their 13th birthday, or were being sent away for some
other reason. They were a motley
collection of young people of half a dozen species. Wenn looked over them. She
had avoided this place like plague when she was an apprentice. It always seemed to be a place of shame and
failure. Now, she felt a deep kinship
with these little ones. She might be
going away, perhaps for a long time.
She lingered in thought for a moment.
Wenn knew she needed clarity.
Leave or stay, there was one thing she had to do first.
Ethaer Noacre found himself on a walkway on one of the
Temple's many tiers. He looked up a
small stair to an alcove for the person he was seeking. He sighed inwardly, he had been searching
for hours. There was a Neimoidian in
Temple robes sitting in the alcove, before her a small brown box. Ethaer composed himself and approached the
Jedi.
The human boy's skin was the brown color of a loaf of
bread. His body was lean, but with a
certain gawkiness to it. He was no
padawan. There was no braid of hair
falling beneath his shoulders and he wore dark overalls, not Temple robes. The human made his way up the short stairs
that led gradually up to the alcove.
The ordered chaos of Coruscant's skies at sunset swirled in the
distance.
"Hello," the Neimoidian said, eyes still closed.
Ethaer stopped on the step just below the alcove. "Hi," he said and bowed. "I am Ethaer Noacre. May I have a word with you, Master?"
The Jedi's eyes opened.
"There's no need to be so formal with me. My name is Wenn."
"I know. I also know
that you are leaving the Temple."
"Does news spread so fast?
Besides, I'm unsure if I am leaving the Temple. I don't know where I'm going," she said,
somewhat sadly. "What do you do here,
Ethaer?"
"My mother teaches piloting. I live here too. We are
not Jedi."
Wenn nodded. "Do you
want something from me?"
"I want to go with you on your journey."
"How old are you?"
"Sixteen. My
schooling is over—for now. My mother
says I could go into pilot training, but I don't want to. I want to be a Jedi."
"Can you hear the Force?"
"No."
"Then how are you to become a Jedi?"
"I don't know."
"There are other ways to serve."
"Yes, I know."
"What do your parents think of this?"
"My mother humors me, I suppose. She knows I'm too old to control anymore."
"And your father?"
"My father and mother went their separate ways years ago,"
he said. He looked down at the
box. "What are you doing?"
"I am trying to open this box. My Master gave it to me just after he took me as his
padawan. The five latches that keep the
box closed are on the inside. It can
only be opened through the Force. It
was a test. It still is."
"You are having trouble?"
"It seems so. It
took me many months to open it when I was a child. I can't seem to remember how I did it. There's a trick to it."
"Can I try?"
Wenn laughed. "If
you can open this box, I would make you my apprentice."
Without another sound the boy took the box in his hands
reverently. He looked to her.
With her eyes she gave him permission.
For almost an hour, Ethaer brought the box to his ear,
jostled it, shook it sharply, listened further, tapped it on the floor, and
even danced in frustration around it.
Ethaer stared at the box intently for a time. Then he gave up.
Ethaer placed the box before her, its face to her. "I can't open it." There was a vacant expression on his face. Ethaer clenched his fists, the spilling over
of the coiled tension in his being.
Wenn bowed slightly to him, to his effort, he assumed.
In a fit of frustration, the Ethaer stamped his foot.
The lid of the box slowly swung open.
The Ethaer's mouth fell open. He didn't say a word, he just stood there, gaping.
Wenn's expression was as shocked as Ethaer's own, but for a
much shorter time. She recovered,
composing herself.
Ethaer moved closer, but in his rapture, tripped and
fell. When he reached out with his
hands to catch himself, his right hand landed on the lid of the box, slamming
it shut. The expression on his face
this time was of loss. His hands went
to his head. "No!"
Wenn closed her eyes.
In less than a minute, the box lid sprung up gradually once again. Wenn smiled slowly.
There was an awkward silence.
"Well, I was glad I could help you, Mast—Wenn. I'm sure you have much to think about,
contemplating the nature of the Force and all that. I'll leave you alone." He
turned and began to make his way down the stairs.
"Padawan," Wenn said, "where are you going?"
Ethaer froze in his tracks.
He turned around slowly. "Me?"
"Yes."
"How? You know I
cannot hear the Force."
"If you can teach me how a person who cannot hear the Force
can do what I cannot, perhaps I have a bit to teach you. I should think the both of us can learn much
more than we do now."
"I don't understand," Ethaer said. "Is this legal?"
"I will take you, regardless of the consequences. Sometimes one must step outside what one
understands, as I have learned recently.
Will you accept?"
"Yes," Ethaer said, out of breath. He approached slowly.
"I have a gift for you, then." Wenn reached into the box and removed a light blaster. "My Master gave this to me when he took me
as his padawan, before how I learned to build my first lightsaber. I now give it to you."
Ethaer took the blaster in his hands. "Thank you, Master."
"Thank you, Teacher."
