All the usual disclaimers, blah blah. But, all of the characters besides Yoda are from the dusty corners of my own mind, please don't use them, I have…other plans in store for them in upcoming stories. ;)
Historian's Note: This story takes place roughly 100 years before Phantom Menace
Rating: PG
"What lies before us, and what lies behind us, are small matter to what lies within us."
-Ralph Waldo Emerson
PADAWAN
A floating grid of transports and utility vehicles blocked the blue sky of Coruscant and framed what few clouds there were. Tari rested in the Jedi garden, its fountains bubbling amongst themselves. The warmth of the sun on his face eased the chill of his high perch. He fondly remembered his days here as an initiate, vying for the attention of the passing Masters to become a Padawan.
Tari had showed great aptitude and confidence with the Force, all his emotions tempered with an innate wisdom. But he had been so unsure of himself, feeling as though he was unworthy of the attention of the Masters when the other students fought so well. The young initiate's strongest suit was never his control of his odd lightsaber. Even a poor choice of crystals had led him to construct a lightsaber with a white blade instead of the usual blue, green, or red.
He was too shy, preferring not to spend his time with the other students. Instead, he meditated in the gardens, studying the ways of the Force in his own quiet style. The Jedi smiled at the thought of Yoda dragging the gangly youth off to the gyms to practice his lightsaber technique. The rumors that circulated among the temple all but condemned the withdrawn Tari. The other initiates teased and taunted that a Master would never choose such a shy student as a Padawan. Tari secretly hoped none would, so he could live out the rest of his life in relative peace.
One day, a Master whose Padawan had just passed into the ranks of the Jedi Knights, strolled into the gym where Tari was practicing, blindfolded, against a drone. The young initiate had always preferred the drones to living opponents. The blazing arc of the white lightsaber flashed rapidly, blocking each bolt with ease.
Tari had sensed the Master's approach. The older Jedi waved off the drone and activated his own lightsaber, the blade's power reduced to a mere sting of its former edge. For hours the pair danced around the gym, several referee droids hovering out of their way and broadcasting the match around the temple. Both fought defensively, Tari testing the strength and pattern of each move. He sunk deep into the Force, letting it guide his movements. The Master tripped him.
"Pay attention to this world as well, Padawan."
With the sun warm on his face, Tari laughed at what he must have looked like to his Master, mouth open, lightsaber pointed at the floor. Him, Tari the Spineless, a Padawan?
But Mar-Dhn saw his potential. He had taken the shy Tari under his wing and guided him, shown him his inner strength.
For nine years they traveled the spacelanes at the behest of the Senate. He reflected on the joys, the good memories and teachings of his Master. For nine years, Mar-Dhn guided Tari, helped him through the trials of adolescence, became a family neither had ever had.
A cool breeze wafted over the reclined Jedi's body, ruffling his hair. Tari was eighteen when his Master died.
Yoda cleared his throat, thrusting Tari back to the present.
"A good man, your Master was. Proud of what you have become, he will be."
Tari smiled, accepting the rare praise dealt out by the small humanoid standing over him. "There are times I miss him, where I wonder what he would do in any given situation. But I realized he would've shoved me out front to make my own choices anyway."
Yoda chuckled. "Many years you have been alone, Tari. Time it is to find a Padawan."
Tari sat up, his head towering over Yoda. He knew Yoda had asked him to come back to Coruscant for a reason, and he couldn't deny the new task that the Master had given him. "I wouldn't know where to start."
"Nobody does." Yoda turned, as if to gaze at the initiates in the temple. "Many seek the power of a Jedi, many do not. Find one that is right, you will."
Tari stood, brushing the grass off of his pants. He looked down as Yoda placed a gnarled hand on his knee. "Your heart will guide you. Listened to the Force, you always did. But now, listen to yourself." Yoda lowered his eyelids, evaluating Tari, then turned and shuffled out of the garden. The Jedi stared at the Master's retreating form, the fountains singing their praises out to him. He shrugged, following Yoda from the garden.
Karra raised her lightsaber, and the blue of its blade crackled against the red of her opponent. Jedi Master Lian bellowed out over the sparring students. "Feel the Force, let it flow through you. "Let it guide your movements."
Karra flipped cleanly over a pile of debris and landed lightly as her opponent overbalanced. He grunted, the tip of his lightsaber scorching the ground. She could sense his mild irritation. She held onto it, tried to enhance it. Her opponent blocked, and Karra flew into the aggressive fighting style she preferred. The Force faltered, and her opponent landed what would have been a killing blow on her side. They powered down their lightsabers, and bowed to each other, panting.
Lian walked up to the pair. He stared down at Karra. "You are too sure of yourself, Karra. The Force is not something you can dominate. We live with it in balance and harmony, not control and tyranny. You must give yourself up to the Force, listen to it, let it guide you." He placed a hand on her shoulder, but she pulled away. "You must not let your anger control you, Karra. That is the path to the Dark Side."
She nodded, sweat soaking her tunic. Lian turned to her opponent. "Mak, you must not let your emotions rule you, you must control them. Opportunistic opponents such as Karra would use them against you. If she hadn't let her guard down, you would have lost this match." Mak lowered his head.
"Now clean up, both of you. Dinner will be soon."
Karra stalked to the locker room, Mak trotting to catch up. "Why do you fight like that, Karra? Do you have something to prove to me?" He placed a hand on her shoulder, turning her to face him, "How many times do I have to tell you, I will still love you. I don't care what blood runs in your veins, I will always trust you."
She nodded, her anger washing from her like a wave. "Thank you, Mak." Mak nodded, a full human, his bright blue eyes shocking against his blonde hair. He smiled, and darted across the locker room to store his gear.
Karra paused, gazing at her reflection in a large mirror. Soft black hair, their tips frosted with the faintest hint of blue framed an unusual face. Slanted green eyes peered out from over a small muzzle. Soft gray fur covered her face, her neck, and her entire body. Even down to the small claws that inhabited the space normally occupied by flat fingernails.
Hundreds of different species have walked down the halls of the Jedi temple, but very few were half-Human. Aside from being a half-blood, she was also a female, a severe minority among the Jedi. She could feel the ebb of the Force as her body fought with the cycles of her growing body. She had just turned twelve, her thirteenth birthday still a distant reminder.
Karra traced the line of her jaw on her reflection. Her mother was a tall, dark woman, Human to the last cell in her body. Her ship was attacked while in transit to Coruscant. The initiate shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself and turning abruptly from the mirror. Her father was a pirate.
For several years her mother came to visit her in the temple. First once a week, then once a month, then once a year. Karra hadn't seen her mother since she was eleven. She must be revolted by what her daughter had matured into, malformed and catlike.
She hurriedly showered and dressed, her lightsaber hanging from her hip.
The dining hall was full of excited students, all talking about the arrival of a new Master, about to take his fist Padawan. Karra raised her head, listening intently. Mak eased into the seat next to her. "I don't know this new Master's name," he began. "But rumor has it he's been here for several days already."
Karra nodded, her mouth full of food. Mak continued, "They say he's young, much younger than that gray beard that came here a month or two ago." Hope flared in Karra's chest, she wanted to be chosen, to seek out adventure and right the wrongs as the hands of the Senate. She saw herself valiantly swinging her lightsaber in defense of the weak. Yoda had warned her that Jedi do not seek adventure or power. Karra was tired of this one planet, she was born and raised on Coruscant, she wanted more. She did not want to end up in the Agricultural Corps like all the other unchosen Jedi.
Mak was rambling on how to best impress and prepare for a Master in search of a Padawan. "Meditation is key." He motioned at her with his fork. "A student must properly meditate and practice in order to be ready for the Master."
Karra sat up tall in her seat, "I am ready!"
"Not if you keep fighting like you did today," Mak warned. Karra sobered.
They finished eating, each talking in lowered tones on how they would impress this mysterious Master.
Tari prowled the halls, his thoughts elsewhere. He had seen dozens of students fight and demonstrate their skills, and most were better than he was when he was chosen. He chewed on his bottom lip.
Mak had shown promise, but he wasn't quite ready. The Force was strong in each student. The young Calamarian, even the only Wookie all showed promise. But he couldn't help his eyes from drifting to an odd girl seated behind the fighters, meditating and preparing herself for her next fight. Tari had watched her fight, ferocious like the animal she seemed to appear to be. There was something about her, something he couldn't understand. He never fought with such ferocity, but there was no anger in the girl, no desperation. Only a cold calculation of her opponent.
Tari's wanderings brought him to the Temple gardens. The sun was setting, its light setting the sky on fire. He stood, gazing out of one huge window, the grid of transports and other vehicles thinning somewhat as twilight descended onto the city planet.
"Master Tari," spoke up a small feminine voice tempered with strength. "Mast Yoda sent me to tell you he is waiting for you in his quarters. I am here to escort you." Her voice betrayed her confusion. Tari smiled, still looking out the window. He could sense her irritation at waiting, and her struggle to control it. He turned to look at her, and a pair of proud green eyes stared back. She needs to learn patience.
"Master Yoda has made working in strange ways an art, hasn't he?"
The odd girl coughed into her hand, but her quick smile was evident in her vibrant green eyes. Tari motioned for them to leave. "Come, we must not keep Yoda waiting."
She led him down the halls at a quick clip, annoyance flowing from her as she waited for Tari's more relaxed gait to catch up.
Yoda's quarters were, as always, indistinguishable from the quarters of any other Jedi Master. A simple door, engraved with the Master's name, opened without a word at their approach. Yoda's quarters were sparse, the furnishings simple and small. He dismissed the girl with a nod.
Tari stepped inside, the door swinging shut behind him. Yoda sat on some cushions across from the door. "Karra, a good Jedi she will one day make. Too proud, she is. Too eager for adventure."
Tari nodded, seating himself in front of the small humanoid. "She reminds me of everything I was not when I was her age."
Yoda laughed. "Everything you are not, she is!" He sobered, pointing to Tari. "Powerful she is. Much anger she has."
A small tea set was sitting on the floor next to Yoda, its finely wrought crystal work reflecting the light in the room. "Given to me, this was, many years ago." He held a glass out to Tari, who accepted it and gazed at the engravings on its side. "Apart, each glass is nothing." Yoda handed him another glass. This one was taller, the designs less graceful and elegant. Its harsher lines lined up with the smaller glass to form a surprisingly beautiful mountainscape.
Tari nodded. The harmony of the smaller glass was balanced and refined by the chaos of the larger. "The lessons never stop with you, do they, Master?" He teased.
Yoda chuckled.
Karra sat at the breakfast table, her head rested in her hands. Disappointment colored her features. "His name is Tari?"
Mak nodded, munching on a fruit. "Rumor has it his Master saw him practicing one day and then fought him. After the match, he was chosen as a Padawan. Personally, I don't see how."
"I asked some other students about him. All I could find out was that he lost his Master in a crash a few years ago, that he finished his own training," spoke up another student.
Karra raised her head, interested. "Really? He's that strong?"
The student shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe."
With a wink to Mak, Karra bolted the rest of her breakfast and trotted off to the lockers to prepare for the day, hope filling her soul. She just might win him over and become his Padawan yet.
Tari stalked the training ground, the thought of the odd girl dancing in his mind. He felt he wasn't yet ready for a Padawan, but all his life he thought he wasn't ready for anything. He steeled his jaw, it took a gentle Master with a will as stubborn as his own to prove the hesitant initiate that Tari was wrong.
The girl was on the practice field, her blue lightsaber held high in defense. Tari watched her dace gracefully, unaware that he was watching her. She spun, her blade easily deflecting every thrust by her opponent. She was sure of her footing, her control of the Force unquestionable.
But she was too sure, her overconfidence got the better of her, and she faltered, barely blocking a thrust by a small Wookie. Karra relaxed, fighting her need to control the Force so harshly, and her dance continued. Tari nodded, leaning against a support. Another initiate walked up to him, a slender human boy, about Tari's age when he was chosen.
"She's pretty good." The boy bowed respectfully. "My name is Mak, that's my friend, Karra."
Tari bowed his head to the boy. "She fights well."
Mak beamed with joy. "Don't tell her I told you this, but I think she would make a great Padawan." He bowed quickly and trotted off to the locker room.
Tari regarded him curiously. He pushed off of the support and walked among the dancing and battling students.
Karra and her opponent bowed to each other.
"Not bad." Karra started at the sound of Tari's voice. When she wasn't so keen of pleasing somebody, she was a decent fighter, able to take the defensive, but preferring her own aggressive style.
Karra hurriedly bowed to Tari. "Thank you."
Tari held up one hand. "Why do you fight that way?"
The simple question surprised the young initiate. "B-Because no one expects it."
The Jedi shook his head. "I did, it was written in your body language that you wanted to attack, rather than defend."
Karra clenched her jaw, attempting to keep her anger at Tari's gentle criticism. He continued, "Like now, you want to attack me for pointing out a flaw in your style."
She relaxed her jaw. Tari could sense the battle within her, the seething of emotions barely under control. But not out of control. He nodded, "I will be staying for a few more days. Practice your defensive techniques, I will be watching." And like the mysterious Masters of his past, Tari turned and glided from the practice arena.
Mak walked up to her, handing Karra a towel to dry her sweat off with. Karra accepted while Mak began to speak. "My father knew him. Master Tari was only our age when he saw him, but my father still knew him."
"Well, tell me," prodded Karra.
Mak beamed with pleasure at his possession of a rare bit of news, the past of a Jedi Master. "When he was an initiate, he was so shy and indecisive that Yoda had to drag him onto the practice field. He preferred to battle the practice droids, too."
Karra laughed. "You mean that Master that just walked out of here used to hide all day in his room?"
"No, the gardens!" Mak and Karra held onto each other as laugher racked their bodies.
A throat was cleared nearby. "Laughing at the expense of others, that is what a Jedi must not do." Yoda calmly stepped out of the shadows, ears held high and eyes half-lidded.
Karra and Mak sobered instantly. "We're sorry, Master Yoda," Mak stammered.
"Sorry, you are not. Mak, meditate on this. Later, I will speak with you." Mak looked at Karra, pity filling his eyes, bowed and scampered off to his room.
Yoda turned his formidable gaze on Karra. Although he barely topped her knees, the age and wisdom in his eyes were more than enough to still whatever response she had thought of. Karra lowered her head, admitting defeat. "I regret my decision to make fun of Master Tari. That was wrong of me."
"Better. Need to be more humble, you do." He pointed one pudgy finger at her, punctuating every word. "Your punishment is to answer this question. Leave your room, you must not, except to eat. This question only must you meditate on."
Karra raised her head, curious at such as easy punishment. Yoda continued, in his own, verbally disjointed way. "What is more powerful. Silence, or noise?"
Karra almost laughed. "Noise, Master Yoda."
He shook his head. "Understand, you do not. Meditate, you will." Karra stared at Yoda as he glided out of the room in disbelief. Noise was always more noticeable, stronger and more powerful than meek silence. She scowled.
The other students avoided the wrath of Karra as she stalked down the halls to her room. How could silence be more powerful than noise? Silence was never noticed, never recognized, nothing. Silence was nothing.
The plain door to her room hissed open with a touch. She walked in, dropping herself onto the bed. The bare ceiling stared down at her. It was largely perfectly smooth, but she could barely make out the line of a crack snaking its way across its surface.
A cool breeze wafted in from her window, and her eyes stayed on the nearly invisible crack, the light of the sun scarcely highlighting its length. All night she stared at the crack, her mind drifting around the question posed to her. The moon rose, its dusky light blazing along the edge of the crack, bringing it out in sharp contrast to the rest of the ceiling.
The moon, so commonly unnoticed, brought forth the one flaw in her ceiling while the sun merely gilded it gently. Karra sat up suddenly, the answer to Yoda's question springing forth.
Silence was more powerful. It was subtle, calculating. People never noticed it for what is really was. Silence never revealed all of itself. She stood, tracing the crack with her fingertips, barely brushing the ceiling. This crack would have gone unnoticed in the ceiling if Karra hadn't meditated on the question. Answers were everywhere, to all of her questions.
She smiled, then sobered instantly.
The ceiling couldn't bring the Temple to the ground. But the crack could.
Tari watched Karra fight, his fingers steepled in front of himself. She was different today, calculating, looking for the weakness in her opponent. Sometimes a little too vigorously as she overshot her mark and her opponent landed a vicious blow to her leg. But Karra was a fighter, she limped back to the attack, more defensively this time, her blue lightsaber dancing against the red of her opponent's.
He waited for the match to be over, and proceeded to follow Karra to the locker room. He found her there, toweling off the sweat. She was everything he was not when he was an initiate.
She stared at him with her vibrant green eyes. "You fought different today. Better."
"Thank you. Why are you here?" her straightforward question pleased Tari. She was not shy or afraid to ask a question of someone.
Tari eased himself onto a low bench. "I was here to find a Padawan."
"Was?"
Tari nodded, "Was. Would you like to me my Padawan?"
Hope flared bright in Karra's eyes. "Yes! Of course." Confusion clouded her features. "But why me?"
"You are everything I was not when I was your age. But my Master came along and saw my potential to be more. That is why I chose you. You can be more than what you are, if you let yourself." He stood. "My transport leaves in three days. Gather up your things and come to my quarters."
Karra nodded. Tari handed her a datapad. "Here is some information I think you would find useful."
Tari left her in the locker room, sweaty towel in one hand, and a datapad full of poetry in the other.
Tari sat in his quarters, the sun gilding the endless spires of the city-world. Karra was a passionate person, a passion that was not tempered with patience. He smiled, the memory of himself at her age coming back to him.
Mar-Dhn almost had to drag Tari off to be his Padawan. Each step of the way, especially up the ramp to the Master's transport, had been fraught with reluctance and apprehension. Was Tari the right person to be Mar-Dhn's Padawan? Tari valued a stable, unchanging life, full of peace and meditation. He wanted to never be noticed, a shadow among shadows, quietly studying the ways of the Force.
But his old Master had other ideas. Each time the situation presented itself, Mar-Dhn would thrust a reluctant Tari straight into the middle of the action. Over time, his abysmal fighting skills improved and matured. Mar-Dhn had shown Tari the value of being different, of being noticed.
Tari held up his lightsaber, the odd white blade resting in its power cell. On his second day with his new Master, Mar-Dhn had pulled the lightsaber from his hands and activated it. For several seconds he stared at it, even though he had seen it once before, at the match with Tari. The older Jedi returned it with a nod of approval.
In treating his odd blade like every other lightsaber he had inspected, Mar-Dhn had shown the value of being different. He had accepted the blade without a word, and never once thought of if as being unique. Tari smiled at the memory. Mar-Dhn had accepted him and his differences with a gentle, wordless gesture.
Someone knocked on his door, the pounding steady and confident. Completely different from the hesitant tap of his from fourteen years ago. "Come in." Tari stood and placed his lightsaber on the small table.
Karra stood tall and proud, her bags in her hands, and her lightsaber, a dark slender tube, hanging from her hip. Without a word, she walked inside as if she had always been Tari's Padawan and placed her bags in the spare room that all Jedi Knight suites had. Tari stood by the door, his arms across his chest.
She walked out of her room, calmly brushing her hair, lightsaber still hanging from her belt. Tari cleared his throat.
"Why are you still wearing your lightsaber?"
She stopped suddenly. "I always wear it."
Tari shook his head. "Here we are, among friends and in our own quarters. This is the last place to wear it." He held out his hand. "Let me see it."
Karra hesitated. Her eyes narrowed, an old hate misting their edges. "Why?"
This was not going to be easy. A student who questioned their Master was not necessarily a bad thing, but to question everything that Master said was. He walked up to her, staring down at her. Karra looked up at him, defiant.
"This is not how a Padawan acts."
Karra lowered her eyes. "If you expect me to act like a sniveling puppy, obeying your every command, you better be prepared for the opposite."
Sadness filled Tari's eyes. "What happened to you? What are you so adversarial?"
Karra stepped back, shocked. "None of your business!"
"You are my Padawan, I am your Master. There can be no secrets between us. What happened?"
She shuddered, anger lining every nerve. "My father….he-he's a pirate."
Tari placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. "Your father is not here."
Karra glanced up at him, surprise written in her eyes, Tari looked so much older than when she first saw him. "Learn from the past, remember it. But do not dwell there. There is nothing anybody can do to change it." An odd sadness tinted his voice.
She gazed at her lightsaber. The level of trust needed between a Master and his student were incredible. Karra held her prized lightsaber out to Tari.
Tari examined it, a surprisingly short procedure. He activated the blade, tested the feel of its swing and the balance of the handgrip. The blade was powered down and he handed it back to Karra.
"Not too bad, trusting someone," he teased, a smile tickling the corners of his mouth. Karra pouted playfully, snatching her lightsaber back and placing it next to Tari's on the table.
His lightsaber was smaller than hers, the hilt a little thicker but the overall length was less. It had a simple, unadorned handgrip in brushed silver. Her lightsaber looked so much more powerful next to his, its handgrip a glossy malachite. Even when laying deactivated on the small table, her lightsaber appeared as if it was ready for a fight, while her Master's unassuming blade rested peacefully next to it, its power held in reserve for when it was needed.
She turned, a new respect filling her. "It is good."
Sarcx glared at his comm screen. A spy on Coruscant had just signed off, his last words lingering in the mind of the dark man. Tari, the man who defeated him on that cold barren rock not too long ago, had a Padawan.
She was his weakness, a vulnerable spot that Tari could not defend. Sarcx sat back in his chair, his eyes focused on the wall beyond his comm screen. A plan was forming itself in his devious mind. He reached forward, tapping a small button set into the desk. "Send in my…newest associate."
Karra and Tari prowled the dusty street of Tatooine, the twin suns blazing down on their backs. "Why are we here, again?"
"I like this planet as much as you do, Karra. We are here to escort a very important person to Coruscant."
"Why is this person so important?"
Tari shrugged, the movement mostly hidden by his robes. "I wasn't told. The security of the comm link was not secure enough, but I do know where to meet this person."
Disbelief clouded Karra's voice. For several months she had followed Tari to the ends of the Republic. "How?"
"In Mos Espa, I visited a bar with an old friend." He stopped in front of a squat structure, the hanger behind it long since crumbled to dust. "Much has changed since I was last here."
"Then maybe this is the wrong one?"
Tari shook his head. "No, I remember that old painting over the door."
Karra stared up at the building. "What painting?"
"The one that has almost faded away."
She stared at his back as he walked into the bar's dark depths. The bar was as noisy and chaotic as he remembered it to be. The same greasy bartender, the same drunk and unconscious aliens. Tari walked up to the bar, muttered a few words to the bartender, and sat down in one of the few empty booths. He handed a drink to Karra, sipping on his own.
Karra eyed the off-colored liquid. "I don't think I can drink this."
"You don't have to," Tari said with a wink, holding his still-full glass out to her. "Just make it look like you are."
Karra smiled, raising the glass to her lips, but not drinking. They didn't need to wait long.
An odd Human stumbled up to them, a drink splashing in his hand. His bright red mop of hair flopped into his green eyes. "Hiya."
Tari bowed his head. "Looks like you are too drunk to find your way home, friend."
"Naw, this way!" The foul-smelling man staggered off into the crowd, and Tari motioned for them to follow.
"Is that him?" Karra whispered.
A curt nod and they pushed their way through the half-drunken throng to the sudden harsh light of the streets of Mos Espa. The drunken man stumbled down the road, bumping into a fully laden dewback, its rider cursing both his bawling mount and the drunk Human.
Tari followed as if nothing was wrong, but Karra sighed, bringing up the rear.
The seeker droid hovered over the run-down bar, all of its sensors focused on the Jedi and his Padawan.
The drunken man slunk behind a ruined wall. Tari followed, Karra half a step behind. He motioned to her to stay at the edge of the wall, to keep an eye out for anyone that might have followed them from the bar.
Karra leaned up against what remained of the corner of the wall, brooding. Her vivid green eyes scanned every face in the crowd. She should be with Tari, validating their credibility.
"Prove yourself," a now quite sober voice whispered.
The distinctive hum of Tari's odd lightsaber answered his question. There was no doubt as to whom that unique blade belonged to. Karra fingered the handgrip of her own weapon, so lethal in appearance, but otherwise undistinguishable from any other lightsaber. The same two crystals, even the way the power cell was installed was almost identical to the weapon of every other student. She always had to prove her weapon's superiority to the other students, even to her teachers. Nobody acknowledged its power, nobody treated her or the lightsaber different from any other student. Until her new Master arrived with an odd weapon and quiet patience.
Each lightsaber was unique, he had told her. Each one handcrafted by the Jedi who would wield it for the rest of their life. Karra had failed at first to see her weapon as different, to see it for what is was, not what she tried to prove it to be.
She sighed. Her lightsaber was supposed to be an implement of peace, for use only in defense of the defenseless. Not the lethal weapon she had tried to prove it could be at the Temple. Two weeks after Tari had chosen her, they were attacked by a gang of humans, their minds deranged by a combination of chemicals and propaganda. Tari and Karra had defended themselves, but only Tari had taken a life. Karra couldn't bring herself to kill her attackers. And the sadness in her Master's eyes when she looked at him told her that he had only killed to not be killed himself.
The street was full of aliens from all corners of the known universe, scampering about their business. Animals laden with goods plodded down the street. An occasional repulsersled or landspeeder nipped at their heels. Droids skittered from shadow to shadow, attempting to avoid the feet of the crowd and the stares of the Jawas.
A small shadow flittering off to her right caught her attention. She turned, a small hovering droid shyly peering out from behind a part of the ruined wall. The Force tugged at her. Something was wrong. Her master had stopped talking with the man behind the wall, even the street had become slightly quieter, as if holding its breath for something momentous to happen.
The odd little droid hovered expectantly. Karra felt a wave of the Force flowing over her, tinted with urgency. A brief image flashed into her mind, the little droid firing, blaster bolts emitting from ports around its middle. Her Master was trying to warn her.
Karra eyed the droid. It wove back and forth from one side of the wall to the other. She sensed Tari ready himself, placing the man between his back and Karra's. She backed closer to the edge of the ruined wall, her lightsaber resting in her hand, but not yet activated. The droid seemed to make up its mind and charged Karra.
She raised her lightsaber, deflecting the blaster bolts with ease. At first she tried to take it down with its own weapon, but the little droid was too fast. Every deflected blast shot harmlessly off into the hot, Tatooine sky. The twin suns blazed down with a vengeance, leaching the life and moisture out of every molecule.
A small part of her mind registered a small crack in the ruined wall. Tari was looking around the wall, gathering the Force around the droid, slowing it. Karra deflected several blaster bolts into the wall, raining dust on her Master but widening the crack. A barely perceptible nod, and Tari gathered his strength around the droid and slammed it into the wall. With a mighty yell, Karra swung her lightsaber down onto the crumbling structure, the wall finally giving way and crashing on top of the droid.
Tari stepped from around the wall, quickly spearing the droid on the tip of his lightsaber and held it up for examination. It sputtered, and then its indicator lights went dim. "What is it?" Karra asked.
"A seeker droid."
"It's after me, I know it is!" The man pulled on the hem of Tari's robe. "You gotta get me off this rock."
"We will." Tari deactivated his lightsaber, the droid falling to the ground and rolling to a stop at his feet. He hung his lightsaber back on his hip. Karra hesitated, her lightsaber still warm in her hand. Tari raised an eyebrow, but otherwise said nothing. It was her choice to hold it, rather than hook it to her belt.
If Tari would've let the man hide in his robes to the transport, he would have. The dark blotch of his fear in the Force was almost visible to the senses of Tari and Karra.
The relief of the man's irrational fear as they entered the small transport was relished by both Jedi. Tari advanced to the cockpit, readying the transport for flight. The man sat across from Karra, his hands wringing in front of him.
He started at Karra's soft voice. "What is you name?"
"Maarax." The fear might be lessened, but tension still dominated his voice. Karra fought down her anger at the man's irrational behavior. He was an adult, there was no reason for him to act like a scared little child.
"I'm Karra."
"You're a Jedi, too?"
Karra nodded. She stood, stalking into the cockpit where Tari was almost finished with his preparations. "Master, why is it that we save this man? He is stupid!" she whispered.
Tari's eyes bored deeply into her own. "He is a very brave man with information on the upper level of the slave trade in some of the Outer Rim worlds." Tari tapped a few keys on the console, and the engines powered up. "With what that man knows, the Senate can effectively stop, or at least slow down, slave trade in this area."
Karra sobered, lowering her head. The man in the cabin had every reason to be afraid for his life. "That droid, what was it? Was it following that man?"
Tari shrugged. "Hard to tell. Without decoding the droid's command sequence, we'll never know for sure."
Karra plopped herself into the chair next to Tari. One hand ran through her thick mane of hair. "If that droid was following him, the entire slave trade on that world knows he's defected."
"That's one thing that has me concerned."
"One thing?"
"What if that droid was following one of us? Jedi aren't too welcome where the slave trade is concerned."
The console shattered against the wall, Sarcx's anger burning deep within his stomach. That treacherous Jedi has a female apprentice. She looked like a mistake, an odd cross between something Human and something else. He paced, his attending droid cleaning up the remains of the console as quickly as it possibly could.
The most efficient manner to get one's revenge on a self-sacrificing Jedi was through someone else, someone close to the Jedi in question. This odd mismatch of Human and other that Tari called a Padawan was perfect. From the images sent to him by the seeker, she was impulsive. Her lightsaber was activated, exposing her to any watchers. Her Master was behind the ruined wall, and she failed to fall back and help him protect the sniveling fool they were with.
Sarcx couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face. The droid gazed up at him, shrinking back on itself.
Karra sat cross-legged on the smooth grass across from her Master. Tari was carefully braiding some blades of grass, using only the Force. She relaxed, letting the Force flow over her. The wind caressing the grass, her Master's heartbeat and gentle breathing. The delicate fuzz that covered every surface of the grass.
She felt the Force flow around each blade of grass, and carefully picked three. With her eyes closed, using only the Force to guide her, she floated each one between her and Tari. She caressed each strand, weaving them around each other.
"Karra, open your eyes, use all of your senses."
Karra opened her eyes, the grass hanging between them, the blades twirled together tightly. "Your control is getting better."
Karra released her hold on the grass, watching it flutter to the ground, among several wilting twisted blades of grass. Her fists clenched at her sides. "I can't do it!"
"You can do it. Patience is the key."
"Patience, patience! Always patience." She stood, stalking to the edge of the garden. The city-planet of Curoscant lay spread out beneath them. She sensed Tari walking behind her.
"Patience is the key to all things, Karra." He turned to look at her. "With enough patience, you can do anything. Never lose hope in yourself."
She sobered, swallowing her anger. "I will try, Master."
Tari nodded, a small smile tinting his lips.
With her eyes open, she focused on the perfect heart-shaped leaf fluttering in the breeze. She gently tugged it off of its branch. With one hand reached out, she curled it onto itself, poking the stem through the tip of the leaf. "Getting better." A twinkle of amusement lit up his eyes. She dropped the leaf, scowling. Tari had a way of gently teasing her, making her feel as if she never could be better.
Tari sense her mood darkening. "Stop taking everything too seriously, Karra. The world is not all Dark and Light, there are shady spots that we must find our own paths through."
"There is right, and there is wrong."
He shook his head, gazing sadly out over the city. "A starving man kills another for food. There is no right or wrong about what the man did, he did what he had to do to survive. But he denied another of the right to live."
"In other words, have a sense of humor, it always helps forge a new perspective on the world."
"Exactly."
"Done are you, picking leaves from my trees?" Yoda pushed at the small pile of grass with the tip of his walking stick.
"Generating fertilizer, Master Yoda. And a new lesson on control that seems to be working quite well. Karra has almost mastered it."
Yoda chuckled, pointing his stick at Tari. "Many memories I have of Tari controlling the Force. Much grass was pulled, yes, much grass." The small humanoid walked up to Karra. "Too much control, he had. Too fine, too small. He is not as good as pulling grass as he used to be."
Tari smiled, leaning against the small wall that lined the garden. "My Master taught me to let go, to let my feelings guide me more. He taught me that I could trust myself."
He placed a hand on Karra's shoulder. "Trust in yourself, you have plenty. It's the control you lack." His eyes softened, an odd sadness barely hidden in their depths. "And you are progressing well."
"But don't get cocky, I know, I know." She smiled, small canines flashing. "Can I go visit my friends, now?"
"Yes, oh impatient one, go and say hi."
She smiled, bowing to both Tari and Master Yoda, then turned and skipped out of the gardens.
"Well, you are doing. Never before have I seen her without her lightsaber. Learning to trust, she is."
"I didn't realize having a Padawan was so hard, Master." Tari looked at the garden, some bushes rustling with Karra's passing. "Or so rewarding. I never knew how lonely I was."
Unexpectedly, Yoda gazed up at Tari, his eyes boring into the taller Jedi. "Missing your own Master, you are."
"Whenever she calls me 'Master', I am reminded of Mar-Dhn."
"Dwell not on the past, Tari. A good man your Master was. Remember him for that. Remember him not as dead and gone. Truly one with the Force he is."
Tari lowered his head, staring at the back of his hands. "Sometimes, it's hard not to hear his footsteps in an empty corridor following me. The hardest is that realm between waking and sleeping." He paused, flexing his hands. "I hear him in those times. I try to reach out to him, but he's never there."
Yoda nodded. "Close, you two were. Your memories, strength do they bring you?"
The younger Jedi smiled. "Yes, in the hardest, darkest times, he gives me strength. Somehow, just knowing that he's there, alive or not, helps me."
They gazed out onto the darkening city, the buildings sparkling as their exterior lights cycled on. Tari smiled, "I remember my Master the same way I remember this city. Once, the nights were as dark here as on any other world. And they will be again." Yoda's clear eyes gazed up at Tari, ears held higher. "We are born, we grow, and we die. It is the cycle of life. One day, this planet will die, and so will I. Then all will be as it started out to be."
"Dark?"
"No. Pure."
Yoda grunted, the orange moon rising fat and low over the city.
Karra burst into the room, stopping short at Tari and Yoda as they gazed out the huge windows.
Tari waved her over. "Have you ever watched the moon rise, Karra?"
"No." Impatience laced her voice as she joined her Master by the window.
He held his arm out, indicating a building silhouetted by the moon. "I used to live there, with my parents so many years ago. They were traders, and I was three. Yoda came to visit us, said he had something he was interested in. He was the one who took my midi-clorian count."
Karra finished his thought, "And then enrolled you in the Jedi temple."
Tari nodded. "My parents were very pleased. Some of my siblings are Force-sensitive, but that is were their talent ends. At first they were jealous, but when they saw how much I had given up to be a Jedi, they understood. It's a great sacrifice and a great honor to be a Jedi."
The moon rose above the city, its light faintly gilding the endless towers. "Every time I see that moon, I think of my family. It has been a great many years since I have seen them."
"The Jedi are our family," Karra whispered.
Sarcx scowled, pacing the confines of his chambers. That foolish girl was more intune with the Force than he had first wagered. He wondered how to exploit her impulsiveness.
Karra Jarron, first admitted to the Jedi Temple on the behest of Jedi Master Torrof Quenxar. Entered at two years old, chosen as a Padawan at twelve.
Revenge was his to exact upon the treacherous Tari. Sarcx's fists clenched at his sides as the memory of his failed attempt to conquer rushed forward to haunt him. He had the nerve to destroy the ultimate source of the Dark Side. The very essence of evil that that planet would have become was annihilated.
But that girl. Sarcx ceased his pacing, glaring out of the window. An attending droid scampered cautiously up to his temperamental Master. "What is it?" Sarcx growled.
"The girl and your life enemy have left Coruscant."
Sarcx patted the head of his droid, absently staring out of the window. The droid shuddered at the malice in his smile. "Get my transport ready."
Tari easily deflected Karra's thrust. "What do you have to prove, Karra? Relax, let the Force flow through you, and let it guide your movements. Not the other way around."
Karra backed up a step, the black braid of her apprenticeship hanging over her shoulder. She nodded, then advanced on Tari. He blocked, the spark of their lightsabers sudden in the dim light. Karra narrowed her eyes, testing the Force around her.
Tari stood, deactivating his lightsaber. The cargo hold that had been converted to a gym suddenly became lit by only the soft light of Karra's blue weapon. "You taste the Force like water, Karra. You can't just sip it and spit it out. Drink deeply, feel it flow through your body. Remember, you have nothing to gain by controlling it too much." Tari regarded his student. "I think that is enough practice for now. I suggest you meditate on this after you clean up."
Karra stared up at Tari, her green eyes still heated with the practice battle. She took a deep breath, and pushed her irritation to the side. "I'll wait for you in our quarters." Calmly, she turned and glided from the makeshift gym, her head held high and anger in check. Tari smiled to himself, shaking his head.
His Padawan was fiery, all but lacking the discipline over her emotions that most Jedi had. Either she controlled them too much or not at all. With Karra, there wasn't much in the middle.
Tari waited for Karra to leave the cargo hold before following her out into the corridors. Maraax stepped out of his quarters, stopping Tari with a hand on his arm. "I want to thank you. The information I gave the Senate will break down the slave trade on four worlds." Maraax's words were full of assurance.
The Jedi turned, his arm falling out of Maraax's grasp. "I am happy to be of service." Something nagged at a distant corner of his mind. Greed had motivated the man to reveal the information on the slave trade routes. Countless credits from the Senate and grateful families lined his accounts. Stopping the slave trade was the last of Maraax's concerns. He wanted money.
Maraax lined his pockets with credits stolen, bribed, or otherwise received by a vast variety of methods. Tari had avoided the man on the voyage to a distant planet. His eagerness to put others in peril just for the sake of money disgusted the Jedi. Maraax had even gone as far as blackmail and occasional bounty hunting.
And he was all too proud of his accomplishment. Maraax continued speaking, his voice lowered, "You know, Jedi, we could make many credits together."
Tari calmly adjusted his robes. "Somehow, I doubt that. The captain wished to speak to me about our destination. We will be arriving soon, I suggest you get ready."
"Don't forget my offer, Jedi."
Tari looked deep into greed-filled eyes. Maraax shrunk into himself, uncomfortable under the Jedi's gaze. "I won't."
Maraax glared at Tari's back. The Jedi might be a problem in the future. His headstrong apprentice would be easier to control. Maraax slunk back into his room, the door hissing quietly shut behind him. Maraax glared out of his single small window, the room dimly lit by the stars outside.
He fingered the small vials hidden in his deep sleeves. Thousands of credits worth of exotic poisons and potions filled each carefully concealed vial. Some would simply put a person to sleep or even make a murder seem like a natural death. He pulled one vial from his sleeve, the dark blue liquid drinking in the light from the room.
Dark Side, this rare potion was called. Maraax had to save for years until he had enough credits stored away to purchase it. The liquid absorbed even the reflection of his eyes. Maraax laughed softly to himself.
Unlike most bounty hunters, he did not depend on income from catching a criminal. He thrived on the hunt, the thrill of the chase. Contact the Senate, his employer had said. Give them this information on the slave trade routes, request the Jedi with the white lightsaber. But don't kill the Jedi. Do what you will with the Padawan.
Maraax reveled in his task. To hunt a Jedi Knight.
Tari tossed in his sleep, nightmares running laps in his head. Several times he awoke, sitting on the side of his bed and staring into the shadows.
All Jedi have the same skills with the Force, but some are stronger than others. Tari imagined that if there was one Jedi more likely than himself to be hit by a stray blaster bolt, he wouldn't want to be next to him. As Jedi Knights go, Tari was not the most graceful. His skills lay in fine control and the living Force. He could sense another's emotions and intentions before they even knew what they were thinking. But he lacked most in the area of seeing the future. Yoda had tried to hone the skill, but even he finally admitted defeat to Tari's inability to consistently sense the future. Where most Jedi Knights saw images of what to come, Tari had vague feelings, subconscious hints and hunches. His sense of what was to come was the weakest Yoda had ever seen, but even the ancient Master was surprised at his strength with the living Force.
Tari could sense the peaceful sleep of Karra in the next room. He stood, pulling on his robe over the thin dark shirt and pants, still rumpled with a restless night's sleep.
The corridor's bright lights blinded him momentarily, but soon his eyes adjusted. The ship was nearly deserted, a few scattered droids darting from task to task and the odd sleepy crewmember mumbling a greeting. The ship's galley wasn't far from his room, and soon Tari stepped into the large, low-ceiling room dominated by a long counter and rows of bench seating. Maraax was leaning on the counter, talking in low tones to a delicate giggling violet humanoid.
"Good evening, Jedi." Maraax pushed himself away from the counter, a small dark data pad vanishing into the serving girl's hands. "Couldn't sleep?"
"Never could sleep well on long voyages." Tari motioned to the serving girl, who winked her eyes and placed a milky white drink in front of him. He nodded his thanks and sipped from it. Tari rolled the liquid over his tongue.
Maraax leaned over the counter and swiped at the girl's rear. She danced away, laughing. "A little sport helps me sleep, how about you, Jedi?"
Tari regarded the glass. The liquid tasted just a little wrong, a little off of what it was supposed to. "I usually meditate."
"Ha! Is that all you Jedi do? Practice lightsabers and meditate?"
"No. Sometimes I sleep." He took another taste of the liquid.
"It's going to take you until next year if you keep drinking it like that!" Maraax waved the serving girl over, the slim humanoid fluttering large blue eyes at him. "Give me what he has." She nodded, a cup full of the liquid soon appearing in her hand. She let her fingers linger a bit on the glass, her eyes looking deep into Maraax's.
Tari groaned inwardly. The drink still didn't taste quite right. Maraax downed his drink in a single mighty gulp.
The girl winked at Maraax, the heat of her passion tinting the air. Tari pushed her emotions out of his mind, and tried to focus on his drink. He could sense Maraax's pleasure about something sinister, something to do with him and the serving girl. Tari placed his head on one hand, his other hand resting on the counter with his fingers wrapped loosely around the glass.
The girl's passion peaked, with an odd haze of greed flowing under it. She flirted more vigorously with himself and Maraax. Tari had trouble pushing their emotions from his mind, and his body rose in protest. Something was not right.
Nausea gripped Tari's stomach, and he doubled over from the cramps, the glass shattering as it fell on the floor. His sense of the world around him faded, the emotions of Maraax and the serving girl lancing into his mind, only this time tinted with a fevered greed. He tried to stagger to the exit of the galley, but Maraax stopped him, roughly pulling his arms behind him. The girl laughed an evil laugh, removing a slave collar from under the counter.
Maraax grabbed the collar and clamped it tightly around Tari's neck. The Jedi was barely aware of the it. The Force was working against him, he couldn't stop the fevered emotions of his captors from lancing into his mind. His body cramped as wave after wave of erratic energy convulsed through his limbs. At times, he could feel the cool of the floor from where his cheek rested, but at other times, he felt as though he was on fire.
He was barely conscious of being drug down a deserted corridor. His body was wracked with pain, twitching every so often as the random muscle shuddered. The curses of Maraax echoed to Tari, as if he was speaking from one side of a great cavern. He couldn't help the soft moan or grunt that occasionally escaped from his lips.
"He's still awake," hissed a female voice.
The world around Tari solidified for an instant, just long enough to see that he had been drug to the hanger bay. A small transport was readied, its nose pointing out the hanger door. Then it swirled violently.
"We'll stay here and get his weapon and that Padawan of his," Maraax barked to someone inside the transport.
Tari was thrown into the transport, landing roughly on his shoulder. He yelled as pain rolled from it like a wave. "And shut him up," Maraax hissed.
Tari was not in his bed, but the coverings were disturbed by what looked to be a restless night's sleep. His lightsaber rested peacefully on the table, her own next to it. An odd foreboding filled Karra's soul. Something was not right.
Karra dressed, hanging her lightsaber from her belt, and Tari's next to it as an afterthought. For hours she prowled the maze of corridors, but something kept drawing her to the galley.
She sat down at one of the long benches, her small muzzle resting in her hands and wrinkled in concentration. A serving droid rolled up to her, a list of culinary favorites scrolling on its screen. Karra waved it off, reaching out with the Force.
The serving girl behind the counter commanded her attention. Karra's sense of the living Force was not anywhere as good as Tari's, but the creature's greed flowed to her on a dark wave. Karra banished her hunger with a thought. The serving girl glanced at Karra several times, always offering a drink when she noticed that she was being watched. Karra narrowed her eyes.
That woman was too eager to flirt, too eager to please and get Karra to eat or drink something, even to the point of sending a droid over to her with a tray of selections of various foodstuffs. Karra refused every one, and she could see the frustration building in the serving girl's features.
Tari's lightsaber was an uncomfortable weight on her hip. A reminder that no one had seen her Master since late last night. She stood, stalking out of the galley.
Her feet guided her to the hanger. Karra stood at the door, her eyes passing over the small transport crafts and crates of goods lining the walls. Something was missing.
A smaller transport, just large enough for a two person crew and some cargo, was missing, its bay yawning open and bare. Karra walked into the hanger, all of her senses alert to the slightest clue to her Master's whereabouts.
A fluttering bit of brown cloth caught her attention, and she knelt to examine it. A bit of the hem of Tari's robe was stuck between two deck plates. She pulled it from the deck, placing it quickly into her pocket.
Karra swallowed her rising fear. She had to find Tari.
Maraax stood in the doorway to the hanger, his arms crossed over his chest. The hairs on the back of her neck rose, bristling at his presence. "Find something interesting, Jedi?"
She turned to face him fully. The predatory nature of his tone unnerved her, and her hand rested on her lightsaber. "The deck is uneven here. I was investigating so I could tell the captain."
"How noble of you." Maraax stalked closer. Karra couldn't help but to take a step back. Her hand tightened around her lightsaber.
"Why are you here?"
Maraax reached out, attempting to trace the line of her jaw with his finger. She pulled away from him, green eyes wary. "I wish to view more of your beauty. You know, when you get older, you will be quite the sight."
She wrinkled her small muzzle. "Somehow I doubt you wanted to look at me."
"True, true," he admitted. "My ship was stolen last night. I was wondering if you knew anything about it."
"Are you insinuating that Master Tari stole your ship?"
Maraax appeared injured, holding his hand to his chest, "Oh, how you wound me! Never would I suggest a Jedi of stealing anything!" He leaned closer. "But I do wonder if this Force of yours gave you any hints or clues as to my ship's whereabouts. I was quite fond of that vessel."
Karra backed up and turned a bit, trying to move Maraax from between her and the door. "I will let you know if I sense anything. I really need to go find the captain. He is as proud of this ship as you are of yours. I think he would like to know about that raised deck plate." She shouldered her way past the larger Human, darting out of the door.
Maraax watched her go. An interesting example of a being, that one.
"She will be trouble." The serving girl, her thin body wrapped in swaths of light blue cloth that ruffled in the slightest breeze, stepped from behind a crate. "She refused to eat today."
"She is mine to do with as I please. Did you find that weapon?"
"There are no lightsabers in her room. She might have it with her. I will see if I can get it from her, she must be hungry by now."
"You do that," Maraax turned to look at the serving girl. "Lhana, I need every resource you have. I want that Jedi girl."
Lhana's eyes narrowed. "Of course, Maraax."
Tari awoke on a hard bed. He felt muffled, as if his entire being was wrapped in thick cloth. His head ached with the beating of his heart.
"Good morning, Tari." A familiar voice echoed throughout Tari's pained head.
"Sarcx," Tari whispered past a dry throat and a foul taste in his mouth. He slowly opened his eyes, his vision wavering a bit. He was in a smaller room, the walls unadorned.
"Very good, I am glad to see that you still remember me." Sarcx stepped closer to Tari.
Tari grunted, trying to lift his heavy hands. He was restrained with thick straps around his wrists, shoulders, stomach, thighs, and ankles. Sarcx fingered the strap over Tari's shoulders.
"Where am I?"
Sarcx laughed, walking around the bed to stand at Tari's head. He placed his arms on each side of Tari's head. "You are where I want you to be. And you will be here for as long as I deem necessary."
The Force swirled around Tari, bringing with it Sarcx's hate and anger.
"I have been wanting to do this for a long time, Jedi."
Karra sat in her quarters, tuned to the Force. She reached out with her mind, attempting to quench the fear rising in her chest. Tari was no longer on the ship, she was certain of it. Maraax was up to something, and a nagging thought in the back of her mind hinted that he was somehow connected to the disappearance of her Master.
She had been his Padawan for less than a year, and already Yoda had commented on the strength of the bond they shared. Tari trusted her with all his being, he had faith in her unlike anyone else she had ever encountered. He was a Master few students would have the joy of having.
Her stomach growled loudly, rumbling to itself. It reminded her that she had not eaten since late last night. She pushed its discomfort to the side.
A disturbance in the Force made itself known to her, twisting its way around the beings on the ship and the food stores. Most did not notice the disturbance, and those that did passed it off as headaches or upset stomachs. All had eaten in the galley that morning.
Karra snuck out of her room, the corridor momentarily deserted. With the Force guiding her steps, she eased her way to the food stores, deep within the bowels of the ship. The disturbance was stronger here. She pulled a fruit out of its box, then dropped it as the Force warned her suddenly. Something was wrong with the food. An image, brief but clear, flashed in her mind.
Tari sat at the counter in the galley, Maraax on one side on the serving girl across from him. A few sips on his drink, and Tari was helpless on the ground.
Karra clenched her fists at her side, anger rising from deep within her chest. The Force faltered, and she pushed the anger from her. She had to keep it under control long enough to find Maraax and discover where he had hidden Tari.
She found him easily. The taller Human had been prowling the corridors for hours, reveling in his newfound wealth. Karra faced him, staring defiantly up into his eyes. "Where is my Master?" she growled.
Maraax attempted to grab her arm, but she pulled back, her muzzle drawn back and her small canines exposed. "I ask you again, where is my Master?"
"If you are patient, you will join with him soon." He stepped forward, pulling a blaster from a fold in his robe.
Karra concentrated on the blaster, tearing it from his hands and tossing it far down the corridor. "I am not a patient person."
Maraax lunged at her, but the handle of a deactivated lightsaber buried itself into his stomach. He stepped back, his arms wrapped around his midsection. "I will kill you, you know."
The brilliant white light of Tari's lightsaber rose, illuminating the shock in Maraax's eyes. "I will defend myself, you know." She emphasized the word defend, holding the lightsaber out before her in both hands.
The serving girl ran up behind Karra, throwing a thick bag over her head. Karra ducked, but they both became momentarily tangled in the fabric. Maraax darted forward, pulling Tari's lightsaber from her grasp. The blade vanished, and Maraax cursed.
A hiss rose from the sack tangled around Karra and Lhana and the tip of Karra's lightsaber dissected the fabric neatly. She braced herself, lightsaber held in front of her, Lhana fighting with the remnants of the sack behind her, and an enraged Maraax before her.
He pointed a finger at her, his hate filling the corridor. "I always get what I want!" A small droid beeped in surprise and dashed off into a side passage.
"Not all the time," Karra replied coolly, her anger simmering barely controlled beneath the surface.
Maraax was not prepared for Karra's defensiveness. But Lhana was.
Karra spun quickly, the Force warning her and her blade rising to deflect the blaster bolts from the partially untangled violet humanoid. Maraax jumped from behind, wrapping his arms around Karra's slender shoulders. His hands grasped onto her wrists, the lightsaber held still between them. Lhana lowered her blaster and pulled herself to her feet.
"See, I told you so," he whispered in her ear.
She needed to act and act now. The face of her Master flashed into her mind, a brief image of a dying Jedi. But with his face came calm resolve. She sunk deep within, seeking the center of her control. She saw a thin wall between herself and her captor. With a violent shove, Maraax was propelled down the corridor.
Lhana's eyes opened with shock. Her fear clouded the Force, a musky wave of terror rolling from her. Karra glared at the slender girl, and Lhana ran, dropping the blaster to the floor.
Karra turned just as Maraax surged down the corridor, impaling himself on her blade. His eyes looked into her own, the life fleeing form his body as the heat of the blade ate away at his life.
He fell to the side, a lifeless body on the ground. Karra stood in stunned shock. It had been so easy to kill him, to take away his right to live. She was horrified.
A droid hovered over the still-restrained Tari, applying glue to fresh cuts. He could feel the ache of bruises deep within his stomach. Sarcx had stopped beating him soon after he had lost consciousness.
A tube snaked its way into Tari's arm. A small vial of deep blue liquid dripped into the tube. He felt as if he was standing in a maelstrom, the Force storming around him erratically. His body convulsed in cramps, hot with an odd fever. Sarcx's pleasure at seeing him suffer pierced painfully into his being.
The droid calmly ignored his discomfort, continually applying fresh glue to cuts that had reopened.
He released himself to the Force, his spirit running the rapids in his soul. Tari drifted, seeking a calm center in the storm he had been forced into.
Tari felt strong hands wrap around his battered spirit. Familiar and calm, they soothed the turmoil. They blocked out the erratic and hateful emotions of Sarcx and his followers. They filtered the uncontrollable pain of his wracked body from his mind. Tari gathered up what strength he had left and reached for his Padawan.
Karra stopped in the middle of the corridor, Maraax's body a lifeless pile on the floor. The captain of the ship ran up to her.
"Damn you Jedi! If you didn't help so many people I'd—" the captain stopped short at Maraax's body, and Karra's lightsaber hissing angrily in her hand.
A sharp vision appeared in Karra's mind. She turned to the pilot, all anger gone from her voice, a calm resolve taking its place. "I know where my Master is." Karra pushed the dead man from her thoughts, but a vestige of the horror remained.
The pilot nodded, motioning to a pair of security droids to remove the body. "Just tell me where to go."
Karra nodded, deactivating the lightsaber and running as fast as she could to the bridge, the pilot hot on her heels. With her eyes closed, Karra's fingers raced over the console, new coordinates appearing faster than thought in the computer. A quiet command, and the ship raced to its new destination.
Sarcx stood over Tari's unconscious body, disappointment lining his features. He couldn't risk lowering the dose on the Force-altering drug that was being dripped into the Jedi. Tari's head lay to one side, the slave collar still secure around his neck. Every so often, a random muscle would twitch. The droid tending to his wounds rolled forward, head held low in submission.
"What is his condition?" Sarcx growled.
"Suffering, my lord."
The answer pleased Sarcx. Tari was still alive, then. The man could sense the delicious turmoil inside the Jedi. The balance between his body and the Force was disrupted almost completely.
"Wake him," Sarcx commanded.
The droid rolled around the table to the arm with the tube placed deep within it. It reached for the tube and pierced it, injecting a cloudy red liquid.
Tari groaned, fire lancing through his veins. Every cell in his body ached, the Force a distant storm raging in his soul. Even with his eyes closed, he could see the pleasure on Sarcx's face.
"I know you are awake," Sarcx crooned, his voice laced with the pleasure that permeated his being.
Tari slowly opened one eye, the light slightly less painful than the emotions from Sarcx.
The dark man stared down at the prone Jedi, hate filling every corner of his eyes. "How do you feel? Pretty bad, I imagine." He walked around the table, fingering the tube full of dark liquid. "I had to look for years to find this wonderful potion."
"What is it?" Tari whispered harshly.
Sarcx ran his hand almost lovingly down the tube into Tari's arm. "It disrupts the Force."
"Thought so."
"I have always wanted to test it on a living subject. You see, it has never been tested on a Jedi before," Sarcx grinned evilly down at Tari. "That is, until now."
"I don't think I make a very good test subject."
"You make a very good test subject. Even now, I can sense the turmoil inside of you."
Tari closed his eyes. Sarcx's hate filtered down into the very core of his being. He had to contact Karra. But the sting of Sarcx squeezing a badly bruised arm thrust him back to the present. Tari couldn't concentrate on anything, the pain was too overwhelming. Fire raced through his limb, tempered and enhanced by Sarcx's powers.
But deep within his soul, a small spark of light remained. Tari used every once of his strength and every breath left in his formidable will to hold onto that light.
Sarcx cursed angrily as Tari lost consciousness. He savored every ounce of Tari's pain, drank in every agony and torment. But when he lost consciousness, he fled to a place where both the potion and the powers of Sarcx couldn't reach.
Lhana sat in the ship's brig, her hands bound in front of her in cuffs. She stared down at her hands, her back bent in shame. Karra seethed in a corner, the captain pacing around the captive.
"Who are you?" he hissed, anger hidden just beneath the surface of his voice.
"Lhana," she whispered back.
"What where you and Maraax doing?"
Shame filled the girl's soul. "He was contracted to capture a Jedi. He had asked for my help. He was going to give me more credits than I have ever seen. Enough to free my family."
The captain yelled, "Liar!"
"Wait." Karra lacked Tari's sense with the living Force, but she could sense the girl was telling the truth. She stalked out of her corner, and Lhana shrank back on herself. "Why didn't you tell us about your family?"
"There was nothing you could do for them. If I tried to free them instead of buy them, their Master would kill them." Despair welled up in her voice. Karra brushed off her emotions.
"You didn't even try," Karra accused.
Lhana lowered her head in defeat. "I am sorry."
"Sorry? My Master could be dead, and you are sorry?"
Sorrow filled Lhana's eyes. "I didn't mean for him to get hurt."
"Of course not," Karra growled, her rising anger barely held in check.
Defiance showed once again in Lhana's eyes. "I did what I thought I had to do to save my family."
Karra lowered her face to meet the blue eyes of Lhana. "And I will do what I need to do in order to save my Master. Where is he?"
"I don't know. I only met Maraax on this ship. We took your Master to a ship in the cargo hold where he was taken away. I don't know where he is now."
Karra stood, turning her back to the captive. "I don't want to believe you, but I do." Narrowed green eyes glared into space. Anger seethed beneath the surface. She must not lose her temper. Lhana was only a pawn, trying to save her family from slavery in any way she could. She had a reason for her part in the kidnapping of Tari. Maraax did not. They had only met the disreputable human on Tatooine a few weeks ago. Karra chewed thoughtfully on her bottom lip.
Maraax was dead, his corpse slowly cooling among the ruined food stores. Soon, they would have to stop for new supplies.
What was the connection between Maraax and Tari, besides Tatooine? Was that the connection? That far distant scorched rock of a planet that was controlled by the Hutts and ran on the backs of slaves? And that seeker droid. Did Maraax send it? She couldn't understand why someone would send a lethal droid after themselves.
Karra paced the floor, Lhana's eyes following the young Jedi without moving her head.
Maraax had mentioned that Karra was for him. This mysterious someone wanted her Master only, and she hoped alive. A small stirring inside her chest confirmed that Tari was alive, a tiny flicker of hope. He had to be alive. Behind that shy and quiet façade, hid a remarkably stubborn soul. Tari would persevere, in his own unique way.
A dark wraith of a crewmember paused outside of the door, head lowered respectably.
"What is it?" the captain growled, eyes fixed on the cowering Lhana.
"We are nearing our destination."
The captain nodded wordlessly, and the crewmember sketched a quick bow, turned on one heel, and ran down the corridor. He glanced over to a still brooding Karra, who nodded absently. She was finished questioning Lhana for now.
Karra felt no pity for the violet woman. She had willingly agreed to help Maraax. Her cries from the brig echoed down the corridors and fell on deaf ears. The crew and passengers of the ship turned their backs to her, for in poisoning Tari, she had poisoned them as well. Whispers drifted down the corridor in her wake. "My uncle knew this family that was saved by a Jedi…" "My father's grandfather's grandfather once saw a Jedi fight off one hundred men with his lightsaber alone…" "My daughter heard of a woman who was rescued from a cruel fate by a Jedi…"
Praise and appreciation flowed from the crew at Karra. Hate pushed Lhana deep into the brig. Karra paused at an intersection of corridors. The woman was just trying to save her family by any means possible, even if it was the wrong means. Karra could understand that. She could also understand the hate and anger of the crew and passengers. They had trusted Lhana, and she had betrayed them. The young Jedi understood the violet woman, but she couldn't quite bring herself to forgive her.
It didn't take long for the poison to run its course. Soon, the complaints of upset stomachs and splitting headaches dwindled to nothing. The captain had fed Karra with food from his private cache. She didn't much like his taste, all rich and strongly spiced, but even she couldn't dispute the purity of the food.
The corridor branched off, the main one continuing ahead to the engine room, with the left traveling to the mess hall and her quarters. She turned right, the bridge a few levels up.
The captain had beaten her to the bridge, and he stood among his crew, glaring at a dark, swirling gas giant outside. Deep blue and indigo clouds danced in storms that could swallow most planets. Trails of lighter blue traced the upper reaches of the hostile atmosphere, outlining the tremendous storms. Its savage beauty mesmerized Karra.
Delicate rings of crystal glass wove lacy patterns along the planet's equator. Several moons, some larger than most worlds, orbited calmly, oblivious to the torment of their captor. Two moons were even dotted with fluffy white clouds and shiny blue seas. Life flourished in every corner of the universe.
"He's down there." Karra's eyes traced the orbits of the moons. A moderate sized moon, gray and lifeless, orbited in the rings, haloed by space as its gravity pulled the ring particles into itself. Its poles were dusted with a delicate layer of white.
Karra closed her eyes and reached for the Force. It responded, flowing over and around her. She struggled, furrowing her eyebrows. "Maybe you try too hard, young one." The captain's soft voice pierced through the routine noise of the bridge.
The Force responded. The soft buzz of the crew, the ease of their tasks soothing their minds. The dark smudge of Lhana's terror. The uncertain shading of the passengers and still suffering crew. The ever so unsettling twisting of the potion still in the food supplies.
Space, eternal and empty, dotted with miracles of life. The two inhabited moons teemed with diversity, brilliant jewels among the rough. A small moon imbedded in the rings. She relaxed, letting the Force guide her mind.
The small moon turned slowly in space, but something was different about it. Parts were hollow. And in it, the bright spark of her Master surrounded by the twisting of the potion. Another was with him, and he sensed her. She could feel his hate and anger towards Tari, the dark swirls of despair and evil. The person felt wrong.
Silently, she pointed a finger at the small moon. "My Master is in there."
Tari was no longer bound to the table. Sarcx had drug the disoriented Jedi to a holding cell. He sat on the floor, knees wrapped into his chest for warmth. He stared at a door, normal in size, but made of thick metal. A small window set high in the door, a mere slit, allowed the only air to flow in. The floor was hard-packed dirt.
Sarcx had pumped all of the drug he had into Tari's veins. He was still disoriented, his stomach tightly knotted, heaving every so often in its discomfort. Tari's eyes refused to focus on the corners of the room, which he sensed at being barely bigger than most storage closets. The thin shirt and pants were torn, and scant protection against the cold of the rock at his back.
The Force danced around in his head, visions of nonsense coloring the walls. Bright lights flared up in his mind. Tari held onto his sanity with every ounce of his will.
Mar-Dhn stood in front of him, his body outlined with flickering blue. With the care of a father to his son, he leaned over and placed a spectral hand on Tari's shoulder.
Tari looked up at his old Master. Confusion clouded his face. Was this his Master? Was this real, or another wild vision? A slow, familiar smile shaped Mar-Dhn's mouth. "I am real," he whispered.
"H-how?" Tari's throat was parched. Trying to speak felt like drinking the endless sands of Tatooine.
"Don't speak." Mar-Dhn leaned down and traced a large bruise on Tari's head. The disorientation of the Force receded. His mind started to clear as the effects of the drug were forced out of his body. The power of Mar-Dhn, the power of a Jedi fully and truly one with the Force, flowed through his veins. Softly, his old Master started to speak.
"Three hundred years ago, a Jedi not strong enough in the Force to become a Jedi Knight, lost his way. He followed the path of the Dark Side. From his anger, he made the poison that Sarcx put into you. It is very old, only a very small amount was made. This young Jedi fancied himself a Sith, but even his hate could not make him any more powerful. The Sith rejected him as weak."
Tari closed his eyes, resting his head on the wall. Mar-Dhn continued his story. "He hated all things Jedi, and swore himself to preserve the Dark Side as much as he could. He knew that he lacked the power to eradicate his enemies, so he waited, gathering his power for centuries. Soon, others followed in his path, preserving his teachings, reinforcing his power, watching over his body while it lay in stasis."
The disorientation of the drug began to wear off, and the pain of Tari's wounds made themselves known. For a few seconds, he reveled in the pain, to hurt was to know you were alive. He accepted the pain, acknowledged it as a signal from his body. But he was still far too weak to heal himself.
"For three hundred years he rested, tended in a cave on a distant planet, waiting for just the moment to strike. I was watching you, Tari. You gathered up all of the light of that world and truly defeated evil. That man was the first Sarcx. And when this one dies, I fear there might be another."
Tari swallowed experimentally. His throat was still dry and raw, but not as much as before. "I will do what is right."
Mar-Dhn stood, the outline of the door wavering behind him. Tari could see clear through his old Master. "I know, Tari. I know." With a soft sigh and a rush of wind, Mar-Dhn turned and walked through the door.
Tari was still too weak to use the Force to heal, but not too weak to physically tend to the wounds he had. Most were bruises, superficial and harmless at best. At worst they penetrated deep into his abdomen. His ribs burned with each breath, and Tari forced himself to breathe as normal as possible, rather than the shallow gasps to accommodate at least two broken or bruised ribs. A distant ache echoed in his head, a reminder of Sarcx's cruelness.
He had been resting and meditating for several hours when Sarcx's heavy footsteps stomped down the narrow hall. The dark man burst into the room, slamming the door into the wall. Tari winced. He had to stop Sarcx.
Sarcx pulled Tari roughly to his feet. "You stinking, filthy Jedi. I felt something here. Who was here with you?"
Tari stared deep into Sarcx's eyes with sorrow. Such hate, such anger filled the dark man's soul. He would never know the joys of a crisp winter day, with a perfect blue sky and the scent of cleanliness. Sarcx would never experience the wonder of a new bud about to burst forth into bloom, the happiness of a young child in the arms of its mother. Tari pitied the dark man.
Hate flowed from Sarcx, and he threw Tari to the ground. The Jedi barely broke his fall, grunting softly as his ribs shifted. Sarcx kicked him hard and repeatedly in the chest and stomach until Tari lay still and gasping for breath. The dark man had focused all that he hated, all that he could not have and experience onto Tari. His hollow soul would not allow joy, except the sadistic pleasure of tormenting the Jedi.
How Tari pitied the dark man.
Karra paced the hanger bay. A small transport, nothing more than a stripped-down fighter, perched before the doors, its ancient engines slowly powering up. Its pilot, the wraith like crewmember that had informed her that they had arrived, darted over it, preparing it for takeoff. It was his ship, his pride and joy.
With loving care, he inspected every connection, every control surface, every bolt and weld in the engine. He knew this would be a hard flight. The old ship glowed under his care, resting on its gears, glowing as if it was aware of the ministrations of its owner. Bare metal reflected the light, covered with the triangular red writing of his people. She was told that the writing were prayers and wishes for good health.
Karra hoped they wouldn't need them.
The pilot, who had introduced himself as Trisimian, finally stood to the side of his ship, hands rested on his hips in satisfaction. At first, Karra was impatient with his delicate care, but soon, she was relieved at the condition of the ship. A well cared for vessel would survive far better than anything else. She had swallowed her impatience. Trisimian would be ready whenever he was ready.
He pulled back the canopy, a large transparasteel arch. Two seats, one in front of the other, were wedged into the limited cockpit. The back seat was just large enough for Karra to slip into. Anybody larger would not have fit. Screens graced the back of the pilot's seat, all blank.
At her confused look, Trisimian stated, "Only I fly the ship. It has some weapons, much less than when I first got it, so I routed those controls to my cockpit. There was no point to working displays using energy in the back, so I disconnected them."
"I see." Karra glanced around at her reflection in the blank screens. She placed her hands on either side of the cramped cockpit and swung her legs inside in one graceful motion. With barely a stir of the dust motes in the air, she was settled in the back seat, her lightsaber and Tari's resting on each thigh. Karra smiled up at the bemused expression on Trisimian's face.
"You Jedi look clumsy. But you also have a way of proving everyone wrong." Trisimian swung himself with practiced ease into the front seat of his fighter. Displays lit up at his command, multicolor expressions of the world around him drawn out in graceful lines. Nimble fingers danced over the controls, coaxing the fighter into life. Engines rumbled and powered up while the canopy slid home with a contented hiss. The hanger bay cleared and the doors swung open.
The fighter growled, biting its bit and waiting for the command. It vibrated, the power of its engines rumbling louder in her ears. With a scream, it shot out of the hanger bay, reveling in its freedom.
It soared among the stars.
Tari awoke with a start. His ribs ached with every breath and his stomach burned. Deep in his battered body, his soul was still intact. But the Force still whirled around him uncontrollably.
He had been sleeping for only a few hours, trying to find refuge from the pain. Trying to find a way to stop the slow bleeding inside of his gut.
Sarcx stalked the corridors of the underground complex of the lifeless moon. Droids scattered in his path. The Jedi was going to be a problem. He enjoyed the beatings, but his revenge was far worse than death, and Tari was dying. The dark man paced. He had to do the unthinkable and save his life in order to destroy it.
And that pesky Padawan. Sarcx hadn't heard anything from Maraax, and his informant was most prompt in his correspondence. That ambitious fool had proven his worth beyond a doubt, but he all too often let his greed rule him. He had been so easy to control.
He motioned to a droid to come closer. "Make sure the prisoner doesn't die. I have other plans for him." The command was bitter on his tongue. Sarcx wanted Tari to die more than anything else, but the spirit of his Master still lived, and it demanded the life of the Jedi.
A great disturbance swirled among the chaos in the cell. Tari held his hands in front of his face, attempting to ward it off. "You are weak, you cannot resist me…."
Tari reached deep into his soul, into his will and pulled forth the last of his reserves. The effort cost him greatly, and he lay panting on the floor. He wrapped the last of his energy around his soul, shrouding himself in a shield of the Force. "Pathetic effort. You will not succeed…"
Pain surged through his body, waves of red heat that anchored him in the world. He reached for the pain, accepting it, gathering it. It obeyed his command, pain was natural, real. It was not a corruption of good, it was the beginning of healing. It let him know he was alive. The pain gathered around the shield, milling about until it was a great ball of red light. It seethed, surging towards the unnatural energy in the cell.
Tari released it.
A tidal wave of pure energy, a surge of pain from the wounds Sarcx had inflicted upon Tari, rushed the unnatural energy. It seethed into the evil and corruption. Surprise erupted from the dark waves of the dark side of the Force.
Tari laughed quietly in the empty room before passing out. Indirectly, the Dark Side had defeated itself.
The fighter raced towards the planet, a sleek graceful denizen of the stars. Karra gripped the handles of her seat with white-knuckled fingers. Trisimian chuckled at her discomfort. He called back to her, "We are almost there, so better start loosening your fingers so I can pry the seat out of your hands when we land."
"Where are we going to land?" she squeezed out of clenched teeth.
He pointed to the approaching surface of the moon. "My scans show a large cavern." He tapped a glittering display. "There are smaller caverns nearby, and the indication of large amounts of metal."
"You are going to just blast through it?" Karra couldn't believe him, he was going to destroy them both!
"Of course," Trisimian replied calmly. "There are no settlements on the surface, and this rock is riddled with caverns. Don't worry, I'll shoot carefully."
"May the Force be with you," she whispered softly.
Trisimian didn't know of she was referring to herself or her Master. He quickly decided that is was best not to know.
The laser cannons glowed red with the blasts eating into the surface of the ring-trapped moon. They drilled deep into the large cavern, and the nimble fighter darted through the opening. Almost immediately, the defense systems activated and targeted the small ship. Trisimian dodged most of the shots, but the few that hit had hit hard. They were jolted sharply as a bolt of energy smashed into the forward shields, disabling them. Trisimian cursed loudly and returned fire, the offending turret joining the debris from the cavern ceiling on the floor.
Karra gritted her teeth, preparing herself for a leap out of the fighter.
Trisimian swung left and right, several bolts passing harmlessly over stubby wings. His ship shuddered with each released volley from his batteries.
Bits of rock and dust clouded the air when the turrets stopped firing.
Karra screamed as the wall slammed into view ahead of them. Trisimian pushed down the on the controls and the fighter dove for the floor. The sensor antennae on the top of his prized fighter scrapped off, and soon the rock of the wall etched its pattern into the canopy. Karra ducked her head down as much as she could, the lightsabers held tight in her hands.
The floor rushed up to meet them, and Trisimian activated the ship's repulserlift drive. A powerful antigravitational force swung the nose up. It snagged on the wall, bending up and slamming the fighter tail-first into the ground.
Karra gasped. She was alive! She leaned forward, but it was too late for Trisimian. He lay slumped over the controls of his valiant craft, hands wrapped around the controls, sightless eyes staring at blank screens. He had died the way he wanted to, fighting, and at the helm of his beloved fighter. His death did not bring sorrow to Karra. It filled her with a quiet resolve. Trisimian knew that he might not come out of this battle alive when he left the transport ship, he had accepted his fate.
Dust was thick in the air as she jumped out of the fighter, the Force guiding her feet to a safe landing. A disturbance in the Force rose its head. Sarcx knew she was here.
But something was wrong, this disturbance was too powerful to be Sarcx. It felt so old. A bitterness coupled with great age swirled around the cavern, stirring the gently settling dust. "Young Padawan Jedi, you will never find your Master before he dies. Join with me and live forever."
Karra glanced to the crashed fighter and Trisimian's still body. "I would rather die fighting."
Laughter echoed in the cavern. "You cannot kill me, Padawan Jedi. I am evil, I am forever."
Another voice, powerful and wise replied. Were the first voice spoke only darkness, this one echoed light. "Nothing is forever."
The first voice howled, and with a subtle prompting from the Force, Karra was running full tilt down a corridor. The Force guided her feet down a maze of underground passages and startled droids. A few tried to stop her, but they quickly fell to the bite of her lightsaber. She had nothing to prove, but her feet needed to be swift to reach Tari in time.
The walls passed by in a blur, but even the quickness of her stride seemed like running in mud. Her fear that she would meet a corpse slowed her down. The memory of Maraax impaling himself on her lightsaber rushed back to haunt her, and her steps faltered. She tried to push the image from her mind, but his mouth opened and he spoke with his hands wrapped around the blade of her weapon. "You killed me, Karra Jarron. You are my death," he accused.
"NO!" she screamed, slicing a droid in half. "You killed yourself! You attacked me!"
"But you killed me, you murdered me! You are not worthy of your weapon."
"Karra…" whispered a faint voice.
Tari needed her, and here she was, fighting with ghosts! Maraax was dead, he had rushed to hurt her and she had killed him. She had killed him so he wouldn't kill her. His death was not her doing. A Jedi does not kill lightly, and Karra did not want to kill Maraax. But she had to to survive.
Steps wound deep into the moon, and she flew down them with reckless speed. A door to the right of a landing drew her, and it fell easily to the edge of her lightsaber. Tari lay in the middle of a small room, sprawled on his stomach. She ran to him, rolling him over onto his back.
"Sarcx…" he whispered faintly.
Karra dodged quickly to right, Sarcx's blood red lightsaber slicing through the air she had just occupied. Blue soon mingled with red as her weapon rose to defend her Master.
Shock filled Sarcx's face as Tari stood tall and proud, his back erect and his pure white lightsaber casting its harsh light about the room. The dark man took a shaky step back, his knuckles white around the hilt of his weapon. Karra could taste his fear.
Tari held his lightsaber ahead of him in both hands in the traditional Jedi fashion. Gray eyes reflected the white light of his lightsaber as he looked over the blade. Sarcx paled. "Karra," Tari grated. "I think it is time we leave."
He stepped gracefully past Sarcx, looking down at him in pity as he did so. The dark man bristled, but he waited until Tari was ascending the stairs before lunging for the attack. Tari spun, and their lightsabers met. Karra stood back, watching the power struggle of energy blade against energy blade.
"You are dying," hissed Sarcx.
"But I will die as a man, a Human and a Jedi. I will die when it is my time to. And it is not my time to die." He pushed out with his lightsaber, and Sarcx fell back a few steps, off balance. Tari rushed him, lightsaber dancing, its tip eating into the walls if the narrow corridor. Sarcx kept falling back, off the stairs, past Tari's former cell, deeper into the heart if the moon. Karra waited for them to pass, and mounted the stairs. She stood on the first step, lightsaber deactivated but still warm in her hand.
Tari was weakening, Karra could sense it. She reached out to him with the Force, lending him her strength. He raised his lightsaber again and again in blinding white flashes against the red of Sarcx's. Abruptly, and with Sarcx standing at the head of a set of stairs that angled deeper into the moon, Tari lowered his lightsaber, powering it down. "I am tired of fighting."
"I am not," Sarcx growled, but when he stepped forward to strike, his rear foot slipped off the landing and his swing went wide. Tari easily evaded the swing and watched as Sarcx tumbled down the stairs.
He turned from the stairs, staring sadly at Karra before collapsing onto the floor.
Sarcx had chosen his own fate.
The captain of the transport ship had grown worried when Trisimian, Karra, and Tari did not return. He had sent his next best pilot, a Calamarian named Niana, in his second fastest fighter.
She had taken with her three of his security guards.
Niana's ship, larger than Trisimian's fighter, streaked out of the hanger bay. Its lines were predatory, and it hunted the sleek fighter. The battle-scarred hide of the ship was pierced by the spiky juts of the laser cannons, already primed for the fight. The guards huddled in the small common room, the largest room on the ship. Weapons clicked and whispers flew softly between them.
In scant minutes, Niana had zeroed in on the gaping wound in the side of the moon. Her ship growled for the hole, laser cannons tearing deep into it when her scans showed no evidence of life in the cavern.
The ship settled peacefully on the floor of the ruined cavern, near an airlock. The cavern had held its own atmosphere, even with the hole Trisimian must have made. That was, until Niana enlarged the opening for her vessel to punch through. She stayed with her ship while the guards suited up.
The dust her ship had disturbed in its landing settled. Trisimian's graceful fighter lay next to the wall on the other side of the airlock, its nose bent up at a sharp angle from the rest of the ship. The canopy hung open, about to fall off of its track. Inside, she could just make out his dark, slim form hunched over the controls.
She turned to the room behind her, voice soft but commanding. "Trisimian gave his life to save those Jedi, I for one will not fail him."
At first the guards stood in shocked silence. An older man, his hair tinting gray at his temples, stood tall. "I will not dishonor Trisimian. I will rescue those Jedi."
The others shouted their agreement. Niana turned to look at Trisimian's destroyed ship. "Leave his body here. I can't think of a better tribute for him than to die at the controls of his ship." She motioned to the cavern. "When we leave, I will blow this cavern to honor him!"
The guards shouted, fists raised in the air. "For Trisimian!"
Niana watched them leave the ship, the airlock hissing as it cycled open. "For Trisimian," she whispered.
Karra knelt over Tari's still form, trying to hold onto the faint breath of life she sensed deep within his body. "Please stay with me." She sobbed softly. Never before had she been so afraid, so alone. At the Jedi Temple, she had her friends. Mak, her rumor-loving friend who trusted her with every cell in his body. Even Master Yoda and his sleepy-looking eyes. To lose Tari was almost too much for her.
A soft blue glow lit up the far side of the narrow corridor. At first it was a formless mist. Karra knew she should have been afraid, but something about this mist made her swallow her fear. It soothed her by its mere presence. She watched as a face slowly solidified from the mist, still transparent with the edges tinted in flickering blue.
It held a hand out to her, but made no attempt to approach. "I am Mar-Dhn."
"A ghost?"
It smiled sadly. "Yes, it was my time to die all those years ago. But it is not Tari's time. He will live."
Karra cradled Tari's head in her lap. She felt the cool breeze of Mar-Dhn's touch along her cheek, a spectral wisp of the Force. "May the Force be with you both." She gazed up at him, and with a sad smile, Mar-Dhn faded from view.
Footsteps echoed down the stairs, and three security guards from the ship burst into view. They stood in shocked silence at the sight of Karra over Tari's body. A woman, shock filling her blue eyes, placed a hand over her mouth. "Not him, too," she breathed.
"He's still alive," Karra protested. "We need to get him out of here."
The guards nodded, and as one they lifted Tari from the floor. The older man held his feet, and the woman his head. The third man ran ahead, but the few remaining droids stayed hidden. The third guard scooped up a computer as they ran from the complex.
Niana paced her ship, waiting for the small party to return. They burst out of the airlock, oxygen masks over Tari and Karra's faces. Within seconds, they were in the airlock and it cycled shut. As soon as they signal their readiness, Niana shot out of the cavern, stirring the dust for the last time.
She emptied her batteries into the cavern, collapsing the underground complex and entombing Trisimian in his own personal moon. She sang a soft Calamarian song.
"May the winds flow over your seas,
Dancing on the clouds.
May your days be filled with peace,
Never trapped without.
May your spirit swim with ease,
Dancing in the clouds."
The captain bowed his head with sorrow at the loss of Trisimian.
But Niana returned with the comatose Tari and a worried and apprehensive Karra. In the small cargo hold of her craft rested the remains of a computer terminal.
Karra would not leave Tari's side, even when he floated peacefully in the bacta tank. A mask covered his mouth and nose, and tubes snaked into his arms. The nutrient fluid in the tank was tinted red with the bacta.
She would rest her head against the side of the tank, listening to the whispers of his dreams.
On his sixth day of full immersion, the medical droids lifted Tari from the tank. He had just woke from a deep sleep and was eating when Karra walked into his room. She sat across from him, hands clasped in her lap. "Master Tari," she whispered softly. "I can't tell you how glad I am that you are alive."
He reached a hand out to her. Karra stood and grasped it in her own. His skin was very soft and pale. If it wasn't for the strength she felt in his fingers, she would have called him fragile. "I heard you while I was dreaming. I already know." She flushed with embarrassment.
"But you are my Master—"
He cut her off gently. "Karra, you know I am not like the other Jedi Knights. A few weeks after my Master's death, Yoda told me that I would only have a Padawan if the time was right. And that my bond with that Padawan would be unusually strong. He said that was my greatest strength."
She leaned on the side of his bed, head lowered. "I always expected a Master like anyone else's. Strong, sure in the Force, like you are. But I expected to be treated like a Padawan, not like a friend. I dreamed of rushing off to save a few worlds," she placed a hand to her breast, "I never dreamt of saving the world within. I would be lost without your guidance"
Tari smiled. "The world within is the one that matters most."
"How did you stand to fight Sarcx?"
He looked up at her, one eyebrow raised. "I fought Sarcx?"
"You don't remember?"
He looked introspective for a moment, his eyes darting left and right as he searched his memory. "I remember you coming into my cell, but that's it. I can't seem to remember anything else."
Karra looked at him, startled. "Do you know anything about the dark energy that I met in the hanger?"
"I think so. It might be the first Sarcx."
"The first Sarcx?"
"A failed Jedi. He was never quite powerful enough in either the dark or light side, but he was able to hoard the energy. All of his caretakers have since been named Sarcx. Three hundred or so years worth of caretakers."
Karra nodded. "What about the light energy. It had said 'Nothing is forever'."
Tari chewed on one corner of his lip. "That saying is familiar." Recognition lit up his eyes. "That was Mar-Dhn's favorite saying. Whenever I would ask him why we were somewhere, he would reply, 'because nothing is forever, good or evil.'"
"I used to crave adventure," Karra wrapped her arms around herself. "But I think I would rather sit and braid grass. I believe I have had quite enough for adventure."
Tari laughed, a healthily, normal sound. "Yoda would be proud to hear you say that!"
Karra joined him in his laughter.
The next day, Tari and Karra sat with the captain in front of a computer screen. Much of the data had been lost or corrupted. A communications officer sat with them, pointing out various icons on the screen. "Most of the data was gone, but I was able to track several comm signals from Maraax's computer to this one." He pointed out a message, highlighting it and displaying it. Spotty text, some words mere scrawls, other odd symbols, exploded into view. "But I can't tell what it says, it's coded."
Tari rubbed his chin. Karra was right, his skin was softer. He turned his attention back to the screen. "I know that Maraax did some bounty hunting on the side. It could have been possible that at first Sarcx sent the seeker droid after Karra and myself, but saw us with Maraax. He then hired Maraax to kidnap me."
"And Maraax hired Lhana because he doubted that you would trust just him," Karra spoke up.
"I think Maraax also knew the properties of that drug he pumped into me. I was unable to shield my mind from powerful emotions, and I was overwhelmed by him and Lhana."
The captain nodded, understanding shading his features. He watched the comm tech scowl at the computer screen. "But until we break this code, we will never be certain." He turned to Tari. "What do you want us to do with the girl?"
"Lhana? She was trying to do what she thought was needed to find her family. I have talked with her."
The captain raised an eyebrow.
"What she did was wrong, she admits that. So, she will pay for what she did." Tari turned a mischievous gaze to the captain. "She is cleaning out the food storage bins with a microscrubber." Tari held up his hands in defense. "She suggested it, and I will help her free her family the correct way when she is done."
The captain laughed, slapping Tari on the back. "Well done! Now, about filling those bins…"
They had been orbiting one of the inhabited moons for several days. The inhabitants, a primitive but friendly race, had welcomed them with supplies when they discovered the end of Sarcx. The small moon, sacred to their people, had been a center of activity. Now that it as once again quiet, their gods were at rest.
Tari sat in his quarters, the small jewel of a world rotating serenely outside his view port. A computer screen illuminated his face, highlighting his high cheekbones. A soft white robe concealed a too thin body. He had delved into the very core of his being and risked removing the energy that kept him alive in order to save his own soul.
The Force had settled in him, no longer chaotic, but refusing to be touched until his body was healed. It still guided him, and it led his eyes across the varied script of Maraax's encrypted computer files.
Maraax had used several different encryption methods. One file and parts of another would be under one method, and one sentence in a neighboring file would boast of yet another different kind of encryption. Tari guessed that Maraax had used no less than five distinct encryption codes.
The communications officer sat across from him, thick eyebrows knitted in concentration. His slim six-fingered hands danced their tangled dance over the keypads of no less than three computers. An extra pair of arms, mounted just behind and below the set that most would assume came out of his shoulders, assisted in his task, tapping keys and rotating screens. A thick neck supported an extra-large brain needed to coordinate all of the extra limbs. He preferred to be called Comm, and he contently clicked at the computer, digging deep into Maraax's computer.
For several hours, Comm diligently drilled into the database. Tari dozed on and off, his mind wandering when awake, resting when he was asleep. The Jedi dreamed of odd symbols, swirling around each other in a specific pattern. A triangle would proceed a square, then a circle, then a rhombus, and so and on. Shapes bisected with random lines and geometry gone chaotic paraded around him in his dreams, each a certain color in a certain order.
Comm looked over his console, bright yellow eyes standing out in stark contrast to his dark brown skin. "At least you didn't snore this time," he growled.
Tari shrugged, tapping the keypad on his own computer terminal. He arranged each shape in the pattern that he had seen in his dream. Most dreams were his subconscious sorting through the data of the waking world. But some dreams were different. Some mapped out a path to the future, or an answer to the present.
Each symbol clicked obediently into its place in line.
"What are you doing?" Comm stared at his screen as a file happily decrypted itself.
Tari closed his eyes, letting the Force guide his fingers. Symbol after symbol arranged themselves, and file after file decrypted.
"Whatever you are doing, don't stop!" Comm downloaded decrypted files and saved them, protecting against a resurgence of encryption. Excitement flowed from him, and Tari smiled to himself.
The last symbol rested in its place in line. Tari opened his eyes and recognized the pattern. He leaned forward, eyes on the screen. "I know this pattern. I once saw it on a small planet a few years ago, in a cavern."
Comm leaned forward, craning his neck to see Tari's screen.
Tari continued, tapping a forefinger absently on each symbol. "I saw these on a computer readout that displayed the life signs of a very old man in stasis. He was the first Sarcx. I did some research at the Jedi Temple, but all I could discover was that Sarcx was trained to be a Jedi, but was never chosen as a Padawan. He left the Jedi, and turned to the Dark Side. Over the next three hundred years, the name surfaces every so often, and all are connected somehow to the Dark Side. They never became powerful enough to threaten anyone but themselves."
Comm nodded, one of four arms tapping patiently at a keypad. "This directory contains personal logs," another arm tapped at another console and he turned his head to look at it. "This one is a log of his communications with someone else."
Tari stood behind Comm, towering over the seated creature. He was careful to avoid the many elbows that swung out from the squat body. Comm read from the first screen, "I have a new employer today. I am not sure to his name, but he is wealthy. He wants me to capture a Jedi, for what, I don't care. But they have always been a thorn in my side, I have decided to take the job."
Comm scrolled down the screen, scanning the text. "How delightful! My employer has bestowed upon me the task of trapping a Jedi, and the tools in which to do it! And I benefit doubly so. Betray the slave trade on three worlds, and line my accounts with countless credits. Lure the Jedi with the white lightsaber out of his hiding hole and reveal him to my Master. Tell the Senate to only give the information to this one Jedi, then demand that the same Jedi escort me to a certain world. I am not sure as to which one, but I will be more than pleased to obey my new employer."
Tari whistled between his teeth. "So, that seeker droid was after me and Karra after all." Comm looked at him, confused. "On Tatooine, we met Maraax and were pursued by a seeker droid. We weren't able to discover if it was after Maraax or us. But we always thought that the Hutts had sent it."
Comm continued to read, yellow eyes drifting across the screen, "This Jedi has a student. My employer cares nothing for her, so he generously included her in my payment."
"That would be Karra," Tari growled softly. "Maraax seemed to be careful not to name anyone."
"The Jedi is on his way, and his student is mine."
"I think we found the connection between this Sarcx and Maraax." Comm pushed himself away from the screen, one set of arms resting in his lap. Tari stood at the view port, his white robe reflecting easily in the transparasteel, but his darker hair allowed the stars to shine through.
"Maraax was in Sarcx's employ the entire time," Tari chewed thoughtfully on his lip. The door chimed happily. "Come in, Karra."
Karra had refused to leave her Master's side those first few days out of the bacta tank, but soon she and the medical droid pronounced the Jedi healthy, if a bit underweight. The droid bestowed Karra the task to make sure her Master ate. Even now, her arms were laden with a tray full of steaming vegetables, fruit, and meats. The scent filled the room, and Tari couldn't stop his stomach from rising its head in interest. "Time to eat," she chirped.
Comm reached out for the tray, clearing a place for it to rest with an extra arm. He set it down. "This food smells wonderful!" He reached for a steamed tuber, tearing it in half an offering part of it to Tari, while munching on the other.
Tari accepted, nibbling on it. "It's quite good."
Karra nodded. "The captain even thinks that Maraax poisoning the food stores was for the best. He says he has never eaten this good."
Tari smiled around the food in his mouth. He swallowed, "Then everything worked out well, in the end."
"Not done yet," Comm tapped the screen. "There are other Sarcx out there." He read from the screen. "I met one of my new employer's friends today. Can't say I much like his choice of company, but he said that this person, couldn't tell if it was a man or woman, would take over when it was time for him to step down. I cannot imagine seeing this man step down. I guess he meant if he ever were killed, this 'friend' would assume control of the 'business'."
"A Jedi's work is never done," Karra quoted, rolling her eyes.
Tari and Comm laughed, and soon she joined in.
A computer in a cave far across the galaxy lit up. Sarcx had been killed, his neck shattered as he fell. A new Sarcx, with a soul just as evil but unable to touch the Dark Side lifted her head, grinning evilly. "It begins anew," she hissed.
Next installment…
Shades of Gray
