Disclaimer: Yeah. Don't own Star Wars. Own the story idea, colors, and the characters... and the Ulcitians (Wait until Episode III for information on the Ulcitians)
Chapter 3
Ceremony
They crossed the misty grounds in silence, Graden pulling her light and sparse dress clothes over her as tight as she could to conserve heat. Taric shook his head. Even in this mild, brisk morning that would feel like Hoth in winter to her she still dressed like a Princess in the tropics. Not that any of the other male Jedi Knights and padawans complained, but she dressed in such sparse garments every single day. A few of the Jedi did approach her in the early days, but she turned them down every time by laughing in their face. No one ever attempted to court her anymore, although privately she had confessed to Taric that she did have her eyes set on several of the Jedi Knights. Who they were, however, she never said.
They entered the main Academy building, an Old Massassi temple supposedly used as the base for the Rebel Alliance during the legendary Battle of Yavin one hundred and seventy five years before. Master Nandon Lectris stood at the entrance, greeting the ceremony's attendees as they entered the ancient temple, clutching themselves closely in their robes for warmth against the biting morning air, and pulling their hoods over their heads tightly. Master Lectris stood talking to two people, who nodded and seemed to be unaffected by the morning's light breeze.
"And here comes the man of the hour," Master Lectris smiled as Taric approached with Graden, who, unable to show her resolve any longer, had started to shiver.
The two people at the door turned around.
"Mom! Dad!" Taric exclaimed in surprise as he ran to hug them.
"Good morning, son," His father, Scantem Nopling, beamed at him, pulling his son into a signature Wookie hug, patting him roughly on the back. "Congratulations."
"Thanks, dad," Taric smiled. "It's good of you to come; surprised me, actually."
"You didn't really think that we'd miss our son's big day, did you?" Taric's mother, Pocmet, smiled at him and pulled him into a more gentle and affectionate motherly hug. "We're so proud of you."
"Mother, not in front of…" Taric blushed slightly and nodded his head back to Graden.
"And you must be Graden," Taric's mother said affectionately.
"Y-y-yes," Graden chattered rapidly. "And it's l-lovely to m-m-m-meet y-you, Mrs. Nopling, but c-c-can we pl-l-l-lease get out of this f-f-frigid morning?"
"Why of course, dear," Taric's mother pulled off her cloak and draped it around Graden's shoulders. "Taric's told us you're from Ulcitia, so you must be freezing."
"Th-tha-thanks," Graden shivered, pulling the heavy cloak over her slender frame. "Now can we come inside?"
"Yes, yes," Master Lectris chuckled at the exchange and held out his arm in invitation. "Let's in all."
Graden didn't need telling twice. She moved as fast as she could into the Temple's natural warmth. Taric waited for her parents to cross into the Temple before entering.
"I was just telling your parents about your interesting lightsaber color," Master Lectris said as he entered the Temple and shut the door. "Caused quite a fiasco, did it not?"
"You have no idea, Taric laughed, slightly embarrassed. He hadn't told his parents about the lightsaber construction incident, and the Council didn't see it fitting to tell his parents because nothing had really come of it. "But it was all Graden's idea, I swear."
"Huh," Master Lectris scratched his chin. "And all this time I thought you two had come up with it jointly."
"No, it was my idea," Graden said as she rubbed her hands together quickly and then held then up to her hands and blew into them, trying to warm them. "Turned out nicely in the end, though, didn't it?"
"Yes, yes it did. Quite ingenious, really" Master Lectris nodded.
"You should have told me you were coming," Taric turned the focus of the conversation back to his parents. "I would have given you the tour this morning."
"We thought we would surprise you. You can give us the tour afterwards," Taric's father beamed down at Taric. "I for one plan on looking forward to seeing your apartment."
"I couldn't believe they gave you one," Taric's mother admitted. "I was under the impression that padawans stayed in a separate building and rooms from the rest of the Academy. How did you manage to get your own apartment?"
"That one, I'm sure, was Graden's idea, too." Master Lectris nodded to Graden again as she rubbed her arms for more warmth.
"Darn right," Graden nodded, but still focused on warming herself up.
"What did you do to make the Council give you your own apartment?" Taric's father asked. "It must have been good."
"Graden and I challenged Master Skywalker to a duel," Taric laughed, remembering how foolish it had sounded when Graden had approached him.
"I'm sick of the dormitories," Graden stormed into Taric's room.
Taric set down his copy of Voyage of the Ventaculus and looked up to her from his lazy chair, not wanting to get up. "Why? What did they do this time?"
"There aren't enough boys who come to my building. I'm sick of it," Graden half-pouted. "Put simply, I don't think there's enough girls at the Academy to make a special trip to the dorms to check it out, much less to check it out on a regular basis."
"Graden, for the millionth time, they call them living quarters," Taric rolled his eyes as Graden flopped on his bed and stared at the ceiling. "And for another why don't you just do something about it?"
"And you know, that's exactly what I came here for," Graden put her hands beneath her head still staring off casually. "But I need you to do it."
Taric raised his eyebrows. "How do you need me? What could I possibly offer you?"
"We make a bet with Master Skywalker," Graden turned on her side to face Taric.
Taric stared at her for several seconds in disbelief. "You're kidding."
"No. No, Taric, I'm afraid that I'm very much not kidding," She looked up and nodded, contemplating to make sure she was of sound mind and body.
Taric placed his elbow on the back of his chair and squeezed the bridge of his nose together. "Alright, I'll bite, but only because you haven't been wrong yet. Yet." He added as she smirked at him. "What do you have planned?"
"Well, you know how Master Skywalker has an open door policy for dueling him?"
Taric nodded. Master Skywalker constantly reminded students that he would train with any of them at any time so long as they made an appointment a few days in advance.
"Well we challenge him to a duel, the two of us, and then we make a bet with him: if we win he lets us have our own apartments."
"And if we lose?"
"Then we journey into the mystical unknown," Graden shrugged. "But with your saber skills and my force powers, we could, at the very least, hold our own for a few minutes. And besides, I don't think anyone's ever taken him up on his challenge."
"But just because no one's ever done it doesn't mean that we should," Taric protested. "And besides the fact that we'd be the first, we'd probably lose."
Graden flapped her lips together. "Pssh. That doesn't matter. We'd have fun doing it, and on the slight off chance that we win we get our own apartments."
"Assuming he'll say yes…"
"Which he will. He'll undoubtedly set up a counter offer, involving some dreadful punishment if we lose."
Master Skywalker nodded to the two of them. "Alright, and if you lose, then you'll stay in the living quarters as long as you're here, excepting if you become Masters."
Taric looked over to Graden. He hadn't expected Master Skywalker to threaten with that. What would Graden do? No way would she accept sleeping in the-
"I'll accept that," Graden nodded and looked to Taric as though they had both expected as much. "That sounds fair."
Taric double took back to Graden. Now she was willing to risk staying in the quarters indefinitely just for a shot at an apartment?
"And you, Taric?" Master Skywalker looked at Taric. "My deal stands before you now. If you don't take it, it's lost the second you step out of the door."
Taric looked to Graden and then to Master Skywalker and then back to Graden. "Alright," He caved in. "I'll do it. When?"
"One week from today. Training room one. Midday. Don't be late." Master Skywalker left his office to enter his meditation chamber.
Word spread around the Academy fast that two young padawans had challenged Master Skywalker, but Taric didn't even have time to notice, as he had devoted every waking moment into spending training with Graden as both of them had no desire to sleep in the dormitories until they were Masters.
When their week had finally ended, Taric found himself staring down Master Skywalker in the face, Graden by his side. He looked up and to his right to the mass in the skybox overlooking the training room, Masters Lectris and Sangreldor at the front.
"This is your last chance to back out," Master Skywalker told them. "You can still walk away and not lose anything."
"No way," Graden smirked, looking to him. "I want my apartment."
"Very well," Master Skywalker nodded and pushed back his robes, his lightsaber flying into his hands. He clicked it on and its purple blade hummed to light while he held the hilt to his face and kept it there in ready position.
"Like we practiced?" Taric asked, withdrawing his own lightsaber and beginning to sweat. This was a stupid idea. How had he possibly agreed to this?
"Just like we practiced," Graden smiled, licking her lips. She pulled out her lightsaber and clicked it on, waiting for Taric to do the same.
Taric flicked his own switch, and no sooner had he done so than Master Skywalker sprinted forward and brought down his blade for an initial strike. Taric blocked it deftly, preparing to just parry all of Master Skywalker's attacks until Graden could effectively make her move.
But Master Skywalker did not focus entirely on Taric; instead he twirled and attacked Graden, taking her off-guard. She blocked like Taric as he ran up to distract Master Skywalker, who, sensing his approach kicked backwards, sending Taric skidding backwards.
Undeterred but for a slight pain in his ribcage, Taric sprinted back into the fray, jumping over Master Skywalker and landing behind Graden, who was doing her best to block Master Skywalker's quick attacks. In an instant of a lull in the fight, she flipped backwards over Taric's head so that Taric could resume his fight with Master Skywalker. Taric tried to move over to the right quickly, hoping to make it look like an effective dodge, just enough for Graden to get a good aim at Master Skywalker. Taric felt a quick brush behind his robes and struck his lightsaber on Master Skywalker's, locking with it. He chanced a glance over at Graden, who had, according their plan anyways, pulled Master Skywalker's lightsaber the instant it locked with Taric's. Miraculously, it flew out of his hands and clicked off. Victory! They were really going to beat him!
Then, in the heat of the moment, when Taric had forgotten to bring the saber down to Master Skywalker's shoulder, Master Skywalker ducked beneath Taric's saber and rolled towards Graden. He used the arm nearest Graden to pull her saber towards him while his still flew towards her, and then used his other hand to pull Taric's towards him. He held both sabers out at arms length, breathing heavily and positioning them so that they pointed directly into the face of both Taric and Graden for a moment before clicking them both off and tossing them back to their respective owners in victory. Graden tossed Master Skywalker's to him, scowling. So much for that idea. Master Skywalker had just doomed them both to dormitory life for another five years.
"Pack your stuff," Master Skywalker ordered as they met together and headed towards the door. "You're moving to the apartments."
Taric and Graden stopped and turned together as one.
"What? Why?" Taric asked, completely taken aback.
"Because you two tried incredibly hard," Master Skywalker smiled. "And that strategy, while not the most original of strategies did what it was intended to do. Had I been a Sith or any other Jedi I probably would not have caught your plan in time enough to think of a way to counteract it. And besides," He clipped his saber to his belt and headed towards the instructor's exit. "No one's ever challenged me before."
"So even though you lost, you really did make it into the apartments?" Taric's mother asked, not even attempting to hide the impressed tone in her voice.
"Yes, they did," Master Lectris nodded as they resumed walking towards the ceremony hall. "It was quite a sight to see, let me tell you."
They entered the crowded ceremony hall, which was already packed with visitors from other planets.
"We sent out notices and put bulletins in the main news sources throughout the galaxy. Part of keeping ourselves open to the people is to let them see in on certain key moments in the Jedi cycle," Master Lectris explained. "People from across the galaxy come to these events."
He looked around suddenly. Taric had felt it too. He looked to Graden, who seemed to perk up suddenly. "Do you feel that?" Master Lectris asked them.
"Feel what?" Taric's mother looked around to the three Jedi. "What do you feel?"
"It feels like Sith," Taric nodded. "Or at least, what I assumed the Sith would feel like if I ever were in their presence."
"Should we cancel the ceremony?" Graden asked.
"No," Master Lectris shook his head. "We should proceed. No Sith are going to stop us from our ceremony. They'd be crazy to try anything here and now, with a hundred Jedi present. The most we can do is make sure that we notify Master Skywalker. Why don't you all take your seats so that the ceremony can begin?"
They all parted. Taric's parents looked for two seats in the crowd and Graden headed towards her seat in the Padawans' area in the first five rows. Taric took his seat in the center front seat, closest to the middle aisle. The chatter died down as Master Skywalker stood up from his seat on the erected platform.
"We are gathered here today to congratulate and celebrate the graduation of these three Jedi Knights: Taric Nopling, Aradom Bastow, and Zemdol Vonsteed. Will you three rise and come stand here by me, please?"
The three almost-Jedi-Knights stood proudly and walked up the staircase on the stage and walked to the front, standing next to the pulpit.
Master Skywalker looked to them all. "Do you three agree to follow in the ways of the Jedi, never faltering in your constant quest for knowledge and understanding? Do you three agree to follow in the ways of peace and teaching? Do you three agree to follow in the Path of the Light, and to not fall into the Path of Darkness? If so, please say, I do."
"I do," The three knights chorused together.
"Then on this day, I proclaim you Knights in the Jedi Order of the New Confederacy."
"And we proclaim you all dead," Came a snarling voice from the back row of the chamber. Four men in black robes stood up on their chairs and disrobed, revealing a full belt of thermal detonators strapped to their stomachs and eyes devoid of emotion.
"All hail the great Darth Kolishnaru, who will one day restore order to the Galaxy."
People panicked, running and scurrying towards the stage. Taric jumped down and tried to make his way through the crowd. He jumped up as high as he could, but landed too short, in the middle of the frantic crowd.
He looked up in horror as the four Sith, as one, pulled up the long triggers for their thermal detonators and pressed down on their respective buttons together.
