✶Time period: + nine weeks after the battle of geonosis✶

chapter 1

He noticed that Adriaan had been avoiding him lately, but he hadn't figured out why. Perhaps she just didn't know how to act around him yet; after all, one did not meet a Giant Shi'Odo shapeshifter every day. But he felt that something else was holding her back, making her observe him from a distance.

Ever since their victory over the Separatist army, the Jedi had spent nearly all their time healing those who had fallen sick from the terrible virus released by the CIS to eliminate the Republic presence on the planet. The enemy had attempted to take shipments of the deadly microorganism to different planets, but Klamin had blown up the ship carrying the virus before it could do any harm. Because of his daring actions, Klamin had achieved the status of a hero overnight.

Now he was marching toward the palace kitchens, where the Jedi had mealtimes in-between shifts. Adriaan had divided them up into groups so that a Jedi would always be on duty.

The door hissed open, and he nearly bumped into a reddish-orange being clothed in a bright green tunic. "Ow! Heatrian, watch where you are going!" he shouted, pinching out a flame that had sparked on the sleeve of his tunic. Heatrian was a Pyronite, a rare being consisted almost entirely out of lava. An inhabitant of the Zwel-jic Mountains lying near the capital city, Heatrian had been given as a slave to Klamin two years ago. Klamin had been in no position to refuse the gift of a slave ––– Heatrian would have been put to a cruel death if Klamin had refused to own him ––– so he had taken the Pyronite as his servant, promising to release him as soon as it was possible for him to do so. Once they left the planet with the Jedi, Heatrian would be a free person, to live as he chose.

"Huh? Oh, it's you, Klamin," Heatrian said. "Adriaan's been looking for you."

"She has?" This was surprising news.

"Go in there, WICKED." The Pyronite glided past him, down the hallway. Klamin took a deep breath and strode through the doorway, trying to look purposeful.

She was sitting at the kitchen counter, absently stirring her mug of tea with one finger while listening to her Apprentice, Kan Enik. The thirteen-year-old boy had seen a lot in his time, including the death of his first trainer, Ruru Xelan. Adriaan had felt sorry for young Enik and had offered to take him as her Padawan.

She caught sight of Klamin and said something to Kan, who nodded and began to eat a plate of Kiy'ly pie. She stood up and crossed the room so that she was standing in front of him. "If you are available, I'd like to talk to you for a minute," she said, jerking her head toward a private room in the back. He followed her into the dimly lit space and closed the door.

"What is it? Is something wrong?"

She spun around, her blue eyes thoughtful; wary of him. He'd noticed that she often wore that guarded expression on her face when she was around other people, like she had something to hide. "Maybe, or maybe not; that's what I'm trying to figure out," she replied.

"What is it that you're trying to figure out, then?" he asked, folding his hands across his chest.

Her hands slid out from the folds of her dark cape, and she held out a long, glittering object. Klamin did a double take. It was the knife Falcon had given to him for his fifteenth birthday. He said it had once belonged to a Jedi, the greatest he had ever known. How did Adriaan get a hold of it?

"I picked it up almost three weeks ago, Klamin," she said. "You dropped it when we were chasing Commander Joh-ma. I happen to recognize the design on the hilt." She tapped the dull black handle, where a long red line spiraled from the blade to the hilt in a sinuous pattern. An eight-pointed star shone in the center, gleaming like a red eye. The blade itself was curved, like a boomerang, and it flashed and sparkled with a life of its own. It was his knife, all right. "The eight-pointed star is the insignia of a sith worshipper I thought long dead," Adriaan continued. "His name is Haak, and I would like to know where you got his knife."

"Haak? Never heard of him" Klamin said truthfully. "The Falcon ––– the Jedi you said that left the Order to seek inner peace ––– he gave the knife to me."

"Oh?" She turned the knife over slowly in her hands, as if she could detect the fingerprints of the owner on it. "Did he happen to mention where he got it?"

"He bought it from a dealer, who had bought it from Jawas, who had scavenged it off a dead body," Klamin said, repeating what Falcon had said to him.

She looked relieved, as if he had just told her some very good news. This confused him. Why would she feel happy because the original owner of the knife was dead? Was she afraid that the Haak was somehow alive? The wary, alert look slid momentarily from her face as she handed the weapon to him. "Here, it's yours. I'm sorry I took it, but I sort of forgot about it when I had to leave Hÿÿ."

"Hey, it's all right. I didn't even miss it." Personally, he disliked using the gruesome weapon, but he had never said so to the Falcon. He had only accepted it to be polite. Anyway, it had proven useful on several occasions, including the chase of the Separatist Commander, Joh-ma. He turned the knife over in his hand, inspecting it.

"You will know the Jedi who killed your family by a black tattoo on her right wrist, curving up her arm like a snake. It is of the same design as this red decoration on the hilt of this knife."

He recalled the words that his Jedi trainer had said to him, and turned to the girl. "Does the red marking on the handle mean anything?" he asked, plying her for information.

Her face underwent a strange change. She looked at him sharply before answering. "I have the same design tattooed on my arm," she said, holding up her right hand to show him.

He stared in silence, not able to believe that the black thing twined around her arm really was the tattoo so often described by his wronged Master. Time seemed to freeze ––– everything seemed to melt away, even the girl that was attached to the arm ––– all he could see was the long, black, snakelike design curving up her right wrist, just as it was on the hilt of his knife.

No, no ––– it cannot be her, it cannot be…

"What does it mean?" his voice came out like a choke.

"It is an ancient design used by the Disciples of Ragnos, the first sith lord. When I was an Apprentice, I and my best friend were captured by the cultists and sold into slavery. This design was tattooed on our arms to show that we were property of the dead sith. It has no power over anyone, except maybe over those who worship the dark lord. For they act like mindless monsters, controlled by one being; their sith idol."

Klamin gulped, a spark of hope faintly stirring within him. Perhaps it wasn't this beautiful, young girl that had killed his family after all. "Who was the other one with this mark ––– your friend?"

She hesitated. "My best friend was a girl of considerable potential. Ra'hal Espera. She died two years ago."

His heart leaped inside him, and he felt like screaming for joy. The murderer had already paid for her crime. His task was completed by someone else. He could have hugged Adriaan out of relief, but he felt that she wouldn't like it, or understand why he did it. So he merely bowed. "I am sorry to hear that, Master."

She smiled, but the smile was twisted, as if it pained her. "Don't be; she was the worst person that ever trained at the Jedi Temple. Even Master Yoda admitted it. Now, let us leave these dark subjects and turn to a lighter topic. I think it is time we turned to the subject of your own Apprenticeship…"

Klamin stood up straighter. "And Heatrian's."

"Yes, and Heatrian's." She rubbed her forehead, looking at him thoughtfully. "I received a call from the Jedi Council this afternoon. The reinforcements will arrive in two days. I am going to take a risk and leave the responsibility of leading the attack on the Kiyp belt to Kay Lee and Kan, while I take you and the Pyronite to the Jedi Temple, where you can be evaluated. I'm going to have to check with Kay and Kan on this, but I'm sure they'll agree to the plan. It'll also give me an opportunity to give my report in more detail to the Jedi Council. Sound good?"

"Yeah, but…" There was one thing that had been bothering him lately. "What if I –––"

"What if you what? You must remember that with Jedi, there are no 'if's ––– there are only 'do's"

"Well, what if…ah, what do I, er…what if I flunk out?"

She leaned back her head and roared with laughter. It was a long, clear laugh that rang tauntingly in his ears. "You won't fail," she gasped, her face contorted with an effort to keep her mirth inside. "Not with the story I'm going to tell the Council. The only thing they'll hesitate on is your age. Do you suppose you could shapeshift and appear before them as an infant?"

Klamin grinned. "Piece of cake."

* * * * *

Kay Lee sat at the table, watching the clouds of steam rise from her cup of tea. It had been a rather boring week ––– sure, patrolling the city and distributing medicine to the people was good work ––– it just wasn't as fun as chopping down droids. She was an action-type person, and she felt like she was about to go through the roof. There had to be something she could do.

She wondered when Adriaan would get a chance to talk to her. After all, she had promised to help Kay Lee figure out a way that she could finish her Jedi training, with her Master being dead. Kay would always feel grateful to the young Jedi, who had literally plucked her and her fellow orphaned Apprentice, Andre, from the gutter and taken them under her wing. Without Nadma Okiwa and Ku-ku N'ut ––– their late Masters ––– for guidance, Kay Lee and Andre felt like children who had lost their mother.

Just then, the storage room adjacent to the kitchen opened up, and Kay watched as Adriaan and Klamin strode out. The Jedi nodded at the Force-sensitive shapeshifter and walked toward one of the tables. Perhaps she had been speaking to Klamin about future plans with his training; he had learned the basic ways of the Force from a Jedi recluse, and wished to learn more. Adriaan had offered to have him and Heatrian to be tested at the Jedi Temple. Kay Lee often wondered how that would work out. New students had to fulfill certain requirements for the Council to approve of their admission into the Order. All too often, powerful Force-sensitives were turned away because they were deemed to be too old to begin training. A Jedi must have no ties to the outside world, no family bonds to hinder his training. That was why many of the Jedi living there had been raised at the Temple from the time they were infants.

"Mind if I sit here with you?"

Kay Lee, brought out of her musings, nodded at Adriaan. The blond Jedi Knight sat down gracefully, folding her legs underneath her and placing her hands on her knees in a meditative position. At sixteen, Adriaan was officially the youngest Jedi Knight in recorded Temple history, and she was the laziest, most easy-going Jedi Kay Lee had ever met. Standing tall at 1.6 meters, the lanky, long-legged girl had a masculine strength that had no doubt terrified boys in her Apprentice days. Her usually long, waist-length golden hair had been shorn to the more practical shoulder-length. A lock of hair drooped in front of one eye, lending her an edgy, almost rakish appearance. Kay Lee absently fiddled with her own reddish-blond ponytail as she gulped down the last of her tea.

"I have a plan, Kay," Adriaan said suddenly, tossing her hair and turning her bright blue gaze to Kay Lee, "but you don't have to go along with me if you don't feel comfortable with it."

"I won't know that until you tell me," Kay Lee said, folding her arms across her chest. "What's on your mind?"

"Something sort of crazy," Adriaan said. "It will no doubt be exciting for you and Kan, but tedious for me."

"Huh?"

"In the past week, you and my Apprentice have shown extraordinary leadership skills," Adriaan said. "When I was captured and forced to consider negotiations with the CIS, you handled the situation well…unusually well for kids at your level of training."

It was a rare compliment from Adriaan, but it was true. Soon after the Republic had won the capital back, the Separatist General had contacted them, telling them that he had an antidote for Actin 3, the virus that had been killing the Zylxxians. Adriaan had taken the bait and was captured, but she managed to give Kay Lee and another Apprentice time to escape. Kay and Andora had helped discover a real cure to the virus, and had come back to rescue Adriaan in the same day. It was also Kay Lee who came up with the plan to blow up the droid factory. In a way, Kay Lee had helped clinch the Republic victory on Zylxx.

"Considering that you have shown startling maturity and calmness in handling urgent situations, I am planning to leave you and Kan in charge of attacking the Kiyp belt until my return."

Kay Lee broke into a pleased grin, unable to push down her elation. She had never been on a mission on her own, and the sudden danger and responsibility of making all the decisions intrigued her. To think that there would be no Masters here to correct her, or to make their own plans…it would be heaven.

Stop grinning like an idiot. A Jedi doesn't put on airs. If you take this assignment, you have to take it seriously. No goofing off. She swiftly replaced her smile with a mask of intense concentration.

"Where are you going, Adriaan?"

"The Jedi Temple on Coruscant. Remember? I promised Klamin and Heatrian that I'd try to get them in. Also, I'd like to speak to the Council about your own future. Andre, too. You are an older Apprentice, so it might be a little complicated. If it all works out, I think you'll be very happy."

"What are you planning to do?" Kay Lee asked.

The Jedi smiled, showing a row of clean teeth. "That's a surprise."

Kay was not used to making up her mind quickly, but for once, she knew exactly what she wanted to do. "I'll do it," Kay Lee decided. "I need a change of atmosphere; I need some action. Oh, this is going to be exciting!"

"This may be more excitement than you can handle," Adriaan warned. "Just remember that I am always available to call for advice, and Commander Urak will be here to assist you, too. I would recommend that you should consult with the clone before trying anything…unnecessarily rash."

"Well, okay," she said, "but I have a question: are the other Apprentices going to be left here?"

She didn't voice her opinion aloud, but she didn't really go for the idea of dealing with the Wicked Club. She wasn't used to them yet, like Adriaan was.

"Kan will stay," Adriaan said. "I just need to tell him the news. I'm sure he'll be glad to stay here; he's always wanting me to give him more responsibility. I feel bad about doing this, but I'm also going to have to leave the Wicked Club and Andora here, too. I just don't see any reason why I should bring them with me back to the Temple."

Kay felt her heart sink at the news. Quickly she straightened, squaring her shoulders. She didn't know if she was up to dealing with the crazy Apprentices, but she certainly didn't want Adriaan to know. "That's okay," Kay said, trying to sound unconcerned. "I can just make Andora babysit them until you return."

Adriaan laughed. "Good plan. Now, Kan should be off-duty soon; I'm going to go tell him the news. See you later."