Chapter 1
Dark Treasure
"Ugghh!"
Blinking a bead of sweat from his eyes, Obi-Wan pushed back hard against sky-blue blade that pressed against his lightsaber. He only managed to drive his opponent back a meter at most, but it was enough. Slipping to the right, he spun as quickly as he could, adding momentum to his swing as he arced his weapon down at—
Nothing.
Obi-Wan raised his blade and turned, noting for the first time just how truly oppressive the darkness in the cave was. Drawing a silent breath, he opened his perceptions to the Force, even though this was unlikely to aid him in finding his quarry.
With his opponent's weapon deactivated, the only illumination in the cavern came from Obi-Wan's lightsaber. He waited. His adversary was capable of a great many things, but patience was not one of them.
A flicker.
Obi-Wan spun in place, raising his weapon across his body. A burst of white energy lit the murky chamber as his attacker's saber locked with it.
"Ugghhh!!" he grunted under the strength of the blow.
Before he could drive the blade back, it lifted away and came up hard at a seemingly impossible angle. At the last instant, Obi-Wan spun away and thrust out at the source of the attack. He winced in frustration as his blade was knocked aside with nary a grunt from his opponent.
A whispered warning in the Force.
His opponent lashed out at him in a sudden flurry of motion. Obi-Wan sank into himself, surrendering to the Force.
Again and again, the weapons collided and rebounded off each other in a fierce staccato, each explosive impact igniting the cave in a glowing lightning storm.
His much younger opponent whirled about at speeds so fast, that Obi-Wan could hardly follow his movements. Steadfastly, despite the rapidity of the blows, he managed to evade and ward off each strike that rained down on him.
His weathered face was stern but calm during the onslaught. Age had forced him to learn to economize his movements, sacrificing strength and speed for efficiency and guile. He shifted his feet subtly with each new blow, maintaining a tight circle of defense as he deflected each attack. He rotated in fluid movements that conserved energy, his blue-white blade twirling just enough to intercept his adversary's assault.
"You cannot win, Anakin," Obi-Wan breathed as he chanced a quick moment to wipe another bead of sweat from his brow.
"So you keep telling me, old man!"
Obi-Wan thrust out at the source of the voice. Anakin Skywalker leaped high in the air and over Obi-Wan's head, landing fleet-footed behind him. Anakin's blade swung in a tight arc towards Obi-Wan's suddenly exposed back. His eyes widened when his weapon clashed harmlessly against Obi-Wan's blade, which had come out of nowhere.
Obi-Wan willed the right corner of his mouth upwards in a half-smile. "That won't work this time."
Anakin scowled. Instantly his blade became a blue-white blur.
Obi-Wan responded at once, increasing his own speed to match the sudden barrage. Anakin's attack grew fiercer by the moment, pummeling against Obi-Wan's carefully structured defense.
Perhaps upsetting him wasn't such a good idea, Obi-Wan mused.
The blows became a deluge, raining down more violently with each new strike. Obi-Wan's blade intercepted each attack with determined precision. There was no chance to counterstrike. There was no respite.
Finally, it began.
To the untrained eye, the moment would have been imperceptible. A novice fighter would never have seen the subtle shift that marked the beginning of the end of the duel. Even a skilled swordsman might have missed that ineffable moment when Obi-Wan's age and skill finally began to give way.
Gradually, the Jedi Master's defensive ring began to collapse in on itself. His once graceful parries shortened to hasty blocks. Realizing his predicament, Obi-Wan began to shift backwards, giving ground to his younger, more powerful opponent. Anakin's face was tight with apparent concentration, his brows knitted and his eyes fierce.
Another strike landed hard against Obi-Wan's defense. He pulled his lips tightly together as the blades interlocked, Anakin's dark image suddenly framed by the crossed particle beams. The two men glared into each other's eyes, neither giving ground as their muscles strained against each other.
Sucking in a fierce breath, Obi-Wan shoved hard with the Force to create some distance between himself and his attacker. If Anakin was affected by the surge of power, he didn't show it. Instead, he grinned.
Obi-Wan frowned. Not good, his mind warned.
"You can do better than that, old man!"
Obi-Wan's eyes widened and he kicked out with his knee. Hard. Into Anakin's exposed groin.
Skywalker's weapon clattered to the ground and deactivated. His knees buckled and he dropped like a stone to the dirt floor, coughing. Demurely, Obi-Wan silenced his own blade and replaced it on his belt.
"How's that?" he grinned.
"Does…low blow…mean anything to you?" Anakin wheezed as he rolled over onto his back, as if hoping that position would somehow alleviate the pain.
"When you're my age, there is no such thing as a 'low blow', Anakin." Obi-Wan reached down and picked up Anakin's lightsaber from the floor. "I believe this round goes to me. That about evens us up, doesn't it?"
"Not…fair!" Anakin twisted around and got to his knees, sitting back on his heels as he curled his back to place his head on the floor. He turned his head to the side and glared up at Obi-Wan. "I…had you. You cheated!"
"One would think that at your age, you'd have learned to stop whining by now." Obi-Wan raised his right eyebrow and Anakin glared harder.
Anakin took a deep breath and closed his eyes, clearly calling on the Force. Obi-Wan stood still, waiting. Wrinkles suddenly formed on Anakin's forehead and Obi-Wan felt a ripple of concern flow from him.
"What was that?" Anakin suddenly leapt to his feet, lit a glow stick, and looked furtively around the cave.
"Don't try and change the subject, Anakin," Obi-Wan retorted. "I know your tricks. I want your concession."
"Fine!" Anakin snapped. "You win. But don't think that'll work again."
Obi-Wan laughed as he handed Anakin's lightsaber back to him. "Yes, I'm quite aware of that. I had hoped to save that particular maneuver for a while more. I guess my old age is finally catching up with me."
Anakin moved the glow stick about the room again as if searching for something and then seemed to relax. He looked at Obi-Wan as if seeing him for the first time. His gaze traveled from Obi-Wan's boots to the top of his head, seeming to settle on Obi-Wan's snow-white hair. "You know, I hadn't realized it, but you really [iare[/i getting up there in years, aren't you? You're almost as old as Dooku was when we first fought."
Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. "As I recall, you didn't do so well then, either!"
"Very funny." Anakin hooked his weapon to his belt. "You know, one of these days I'm going to stop taking it easy on you during these little drills of ours."
Obi-Wan smiled and slapped Anakin hard on the back. "You've been saying that for a decade, Anakin. I'm done holding my breath."
Anakin laughed. "Fair enough." He turned and looked around the room warily. "Seriously, though. Did you not sense that?"
Obi-Wan drew his eyebrows together, suddenly grasping that Anakin had not been pretending. "I felt a surge of concern from you as you were getting up," he replied. "But that was about it. What did you see?"
"I…I don't know…it felt like—"
"Master Skywalker? Master Obi-Wan? Are you in here?"
Anakin and Obi-Wan glanced at each other and sighed.
"I don't suppose we could just hide ourselves in the Force and hope they go away, can we?" Anakin whispered.
"You're the head of the Jedi Order, Anakin. I'm sure somebody would eventually miss you."
Anakin rubbed his chin. "Oh, I don't know. Padmé, maybe. I suppose Luke and Leia would eventually start to worry…."
"We're in here, Kilar!" Obi-Wan called out. He turned to Anakin. "It was nice while it lasted."
Anakin glanced around the dark chamber. "I suppose we won't be using this place anymore. No matter where we go to do this, we always manage to get found out."
The two men started out toward the exit. "Well, if you'd just stop telling Padmé where you're going, it'd probably be a better kept secret!"
"Don't you start on that again! She's my wife and she has every right to know where I am. If you'd ever had the good sense to settle down with that nice Corellian girl I introduced you to, you'd understand that."
Obi-Wan shook his head. "I rather like my freedom, thank you."
A small human boy finally rounded the corner into the cave with a torch in his hand. He waved the flame on the end of the stick from one Jedi Master to the other, as if trying to confirm that they were actually the ones he was looking for. Seemingly satisfied, he sighed in obvious relief.
"Master Skywalker! Master Obi-Wan! Thank the Force!"
"Indeed, little one," Obi-Wan smiled. "What can we do for you?"
"Master Vos told me to find you! He said it was urgent. Something about a missing link in the Sith holocrons!"
Anakin and Obi-Wan exchanged another silent glance. Quinlan Vos recently had taken on the responsibility of researching the treasure trove of holocrons that had been discovered almost two decades prior while exploring the myriad secret passageways left by Palpatine. They had been left untouched for several years, as most Jedi had been unwilling to explore the data within.
Only Vos seemed comfortable with the idea of learning what knowledge the Sith had accumulated over the centuries. It had become somewhat of an obsession as he spent countless hours trying to coax information from the unique information vessels. Less than a week earlier he had discovered how to read them, and had been furiously documenting the information found there since. This was the first time Vos had come out of his self-imposed seclusion to talk to anyone about what he had found.
Anakin closed his eyes and drew a deep breath, frowning as he seemed to sink into himself. Finally, he opened his eyes and looked directly at the boy, a look of apprehension etched into his face. "We'll be right there."
Kilar nodded and dashed out of sight.
Obi-Wan turned to Anakin. "What is it?"
"I don't know," Anakin replied, the clear unease seeming to build by the moment. "But something's not right."
"What do you mean?"
Anakin pulled the right corner of lips inward as if trying to find the right words. "I don't know, exactly. What I sensed earlier, and then again just now when I tried to find Quinlan…"
"Go on."
"Well, for a brief moment…the Force felt…I don't know…cold."
"Let me go!!"
The three humans surrounding the pale-skinned Twi'lek dancer laughed.
"Oh, come on! You know you love it!" the tallest of them chuckled as he grabbed her around the waist from behind, pulling her to him roughly.
"Yeah! Why should Jabba have all the fun?" The stocky one grabbed her right wrist, pulling her hand free from her vain attempts to pry the first man free.
"I want some too!" the fat one screamed as he yanked her other wrist to him.
"Jabba will kill you for this!" Lyn Me yelled, frantically pulling against their vice-like grips. She searched the bar desperately, trying to make eye contact with somebody. "Please! Somebody, help me!"
No one in the tiny cantina budged or even looked up. The quiet conversations continued unabated. The background music still played incessantly.
The men laughed harder.
Tears welled in her eyes.
It was the first time that Jabba the Hutt had let Lyn leave the palace in nearly a decade. She had counted herself lucky and had been doing her level best not to give him a reason to revoke the privilege. But she just couldn't resist visiting the local hangout she had heard so much about. Being caught in the bar would have been enough to keep her confined for another decade with a chain attached to her collar. Getting accosted and raped by three humans would likely get her fed to Jabba's rancor.
She gritted her teeth and kicked out at the fat one. He easily scooted out of the way and grinned. Obviously, he was more agile than he looked.
"She's a feisty one, Harm!" the fat man laughed.
"Well, Jor, we'll just have to beat that out of her, won't we? Shinn! Grab her legs!" Harm, who was obviously the one who had his arms tight around her waist, had gone from playful to menacing. His voice was tight and full of malice.
The tears fell.
"Let her go."
The three men spun toward the quiet voice that had spoken.
A sudden flurry of bodies parted to reveal a lone dark-skinned human sitting quietly at the bar. He continued to face the barkeep, silently sipping a bluish liquid from a small glass. The bartender, a humanoid creature whose species the Twi'lek girl didn't recognize, clucked his beak-like mouth and turned away. The Bith Quartet immediately stopped playing, which cued the rest of the room to absolute silence.
"Please, sir," she cried. "Help m—"
Harm's fist silenced her and blood splattered onto Jor's tunic. "Shut up, witch!" He tossed her to the other two and faced the unmoving patron, his lips curling into a snarl. "Just who in the hell are you supposed to be?"
Silence.
Jor and Shinn exchanged wary glances before Shinn pushed the girl completely into Jor's arms and pulled his blaster from its holster. "You heard the man, friend. What's your name and what do you want with her?"
He placed the drink quietly on the bar as he spoke. "Who I am, is irrelevant. What I want with her is simple. I want you to let her go."
Harm squared his shoulders and tilted his head from side to side, seeming to relish in the popping noise that accompanied the movement.
"And what if we don't?" Harm's voice had dropped to a much deeper, more menacing tone.
Lyn wasn't sure given that she could only see the back of the dark man's bald skull, but she could have sworn she saw him smile.
"Well, I suppose I'll have to ask you again," he replied, causing the threesome to laugh. "Less politely," he added.
Their chuckles wilted.
Jor spat and tossed Lyn to the floor. All three of them drew their blasters and leveled them at the man's back, fuel cells whining as three settings were raised to maximum power.
"You won't be asking anything, friend," Shinn spat.
The dark man spun in his chair. The movement was surprisingly quick, yet graceful. Stepping away from the stool, he stood up to his full, imposing height, only a few inches shorter than Harm, with his feet set slightly apart.
Looking directly into Shinn's surprised face, wrinkles formed at the corners of his mouth when he spoke through tight lips. "We are not friends."
"Hey!" Jor yelled. "I know this guy!"
Harm screwed up his face as he seemed to consider it, keeping the barrel of the blaster pointed directly at the man. "Yeah…he does look familiar!"
"He's that Jedi that tried to take over the Senate, remember?" Shinn offered.
"That's it," Harm replied, snapping the fingers on his free hand. "That's right. I remember now. Trial was all over the HoloNet! They ended up letting him go, right? Something about temporary insanity or something like that."
"He's a dangerous one, gents," Jor said with a cautious tone in his voice. "He's a Jedi."
"Ex-Jedi," Harm corrected, grinning widely.
"Yeah! Ex-Jedi," Shinn concurred, beginning to smile.
One corner of the dark man's mouth turned upwards slightly. It might have been a smile, had his eyes not darkened to give him such a predatory look. "And do you think that makes me less dangerous or more dangerous?"
There was no mistaking the clear swallow each man took in succession as the ex-Jedi's stare moved smoothly from one man to the next.
"Shoot him!" Harm yelled.
"You shoot him!" Shinn snapped. "She ain't worth the trouble. I'm getting out of here." He spun and dashed for the door. Jor was close on his heels.
Harm continued to stare at the man, seeming to consider his odds of winning a fight with him. Then he spat on the ground and stormed out of the bar.
A moment later, the Bith Quartet began playing again and the conversations began anew, as if they never had stopped.
The man sighed and walked over to Lyn, extending his black-gloved hand to her. She took it, and he easily hoisted her to her feet. He seemed to have been waiting to see if she was all right, because as soon as she felt steady on her feet, the man turned away and went back to the bar.
She slid onto the chair next to him.
"Thank you," she ventured.
"No problem," the man replied, downing the rest of his drink. "I suggest you leave soon. They'll probably be back and I won't be doing that again."
"Why did you in the first place?"
"Felt like the thing to do at the time. Now, I'm not so sure."
"I'm Lyn."
"I don't care." He tossed a coin on the bar and stood. He was turning to walk away when Lyn grabbed his elbow.
"You just saved my skin. Can I at least have your name?"
His eyes widened and then he frowned, as if confused by the question. At length, he pulled his elbow free. "Call me Mace. See you around Lyn."
Without another word, he stalked away.
"Nice to meet you, Mace," Lyn whispered to herself.
Anakin clasped his hands in front of him and leaned against Quinlan's workbench. He had been standing there somewhat impatiently for several minutes and the dark-haired Kiffar Jedi had yet to look up from the small crimson pyramid he was studying.
Anakin blew out an exasperated breath. "Vos, you sent for me?"
Quinlan kept his bloodshot eyes fixed on the device. "Yes," he said simply.
Anakin frowned. "Because…?"
Vos continued to probe the pyramid. He flipped a stray lock of his thick hair out of his face and activated a panel on the side that faced Anakin. The holocron vibrated noiselessly for several seconds and then Anakin felt a sudden surge in the Force.
His legs gave way and he had to grasp the desk to steady himself.
"Don't fight it," Quinlan advised.
A flood of images bombarded Anakin's mind. "What…?"
"Focus, Skywalker!" Quinlan snapped, as if chastising a recalcitrant padawan. "Filter through the images and select the one you are looking for."
Anakin turned and glared at Vos as he raised his mental shields to block the barrage. "It would help if you told me what I was looking for, Master!"
The unspoken rebuke seemed to have the desired effect. Quinlan averted his eyes before reaching up to deactivate the holocron. The flood of images halted instantly.
"Sorry."
Anakin gripped the sides of the table and spoke through gritted teeth. "Care to explain?"
Vos leaned backward in his chair, extending his arms above his head in a huge stretch, audibly crackling every one of the vertebrae in his back. A moment later, he opened his mouth in massive yawn which he did nothing to stifle. When he finally closed his mouth, he let out a low grumbling moan.
Anakin relaxed his face and straightened.
"The holocron can only be used by a Force-sensitive," Quinlan announced at last in a lecturing tone. He glanced up at Anakin's scowling face, pulled his lips into a thin line, and then smiled. "Right. You already knew that." Sighing, he leaned forward and continued. "What you just experienced is perfectly normal, but avoidable. I should have taught you how to access the Gatekeeper but I wasn't thinking. Tired, I suppose."
"Gatekeeper?" Anakin's scowl deepened.
"Yes. Each holocron has a Gatekeeper—a guide to help you get the answers you're looking for. The Gatekeepers seem to be the Sith Lord that recorded the holocron." Vos picked up one the holocron and turned it over in his hand absently before returning it to the table. "Largely, the holocrons are personal logs along with recordings of Sith techniques of all sorts. I also noticed several designs for ships and battle stations but I haven't had a chance to sort through them all yet."
Placing his flesh hand on his chin, Anakin grew pensive. "These 'Gatekeepers', they are holographic manifestations of the Sith Lords?"
"All the ones I've seen so far, yes." Quinlan stood and stretched again. "I've catalogued them all in chronological order so I can study them. Each one spans about twenty-five to thirty years or so. It seems that's about as long as Sith Masters tend to last before their apprentices kill them."
Anakin nodded. "That makes sense. We recovered thirty-three and I think they started with Darth Bane, right?"
"I didn't think you actually read my reports," Quinlan replied flatly as he walked across the tiled floor and got a drink of water. He drank for several long moments before replacing the metal cup. Leaning against the wall, he crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. "I guess the Head of the Council can find time for the little things, eh?"
Anakin bit back the frustration that churned in his gut. "So what is the news, Vos? What was so important that I could not read it in a report?"
Quinlan leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes. "We have thirty-three, but we should have thirty-four."
Anakin drew his eyebrows together. "Are you sure?"
"Positive," Vos replied as he pushed off the wall. He pulled his feet together and, keeping his legs straight, stretched down to hug his head to his knees. At length, he straightened and looked at Anakin, his dark eyes red and blotchy. "I [ithought[/i one might be missing but had to wait until I was done cataloging to be sure."
Sitting on the table, Anakin contemplated the information. "Any idea where it might be or what this might mean?"
"Where it might be is anywhere, if it even exists," Quinlan answered. "What it might mean is interesting. The gap was noted by only two Sith Lords, but both seemed not to care, claiming that the Sith responsible for the recording was the weakest Sith in their history and was undeserving of ever having been selected for training. Apparently, he had someone else disable his master before he went in for the kill."
"Did they knew who this Sith was?"
"Looks like they got their information from someplace other than their own archives and it wasn't complete."
"Oh?"
"I'm guessing on that one, but they never mentioned his name. I figure that's because they didn't know it." Quinlan stretched again and then walked back toward the table on which Anakin sat.
Anakin stood and blocked Vos' path. "That's enough for now. You're tired. Go get some rest."
Vos' face instantly contorted into a snarl. Fiery heat flared from his core in the Force. "You can't do that!!" he growled. "I'm not done yet."
Anakin raised his right eyebrow and crossed his arms across his chest. "I can, and you are."
Vos glared.
Anakin narrowed his eyes.
Vos blinked. Locks swaying about his neck as he shook his head, he turned around and began to walk out of the room. "You're probably right. I need some rest. I'll get back to work in the morning."
"No," Anakin responded firmly. "I want you to take a week off this project. Come back and seek the Council's permission when you think you are ready."
Quinlan stopped at the door and placed a hand on the doorframe. "I'm sorry, all right? I lost my head for a minute. Don't take me off this. No one knows these holocrons like I do."
"We didn't have them for a thousand years, Quinlan. We can do without their knowledge for a week." Anakin watched Vos' fingers flex against the wood. "My decision is final. Get some rest."
The Jedi Master dropped his head for a moment, and then walked away.
Anakin turned and picked up the small device. The ambient light seemed to disappear into its surfaces rather than reflect off them. He placed it flat in his palm and raised it to eye-level, unsure of what he expected to see.
It seemed like nothing more than a simple pyramid with ornate red designs carved into the black metal surface. He contemplated trying to probe it with the Force for several long moments.
Finally, he walked over to an open drawer, placed the holocron neatly inside, and closed it.
"It can wait," he whispered, and left.
