Chapter 4
Bonadan was at the very end of the Hydian Way and had numerous major spaceports from which to transfer. Julienne had picked the one noted for the most passenger transfers and set down among hundreds of other private ships.
"And are the Sith so common here that no one is going to notice your ship?" asked Shem.
She snorted. "Nobody cares out here. Profit is all that matters to these people. This is the Corporate Sector."
Shemric had nothing to pack, so he was surprised when Julienne reappeared dressed in more or less normal attire and handed him some non-descript clothes.
"Sith are more common than Jedi here, but I do not want to look like either one, so change," she said.
He nodded and did his best to make the generic bodysuit fit. They trudged off into the massive spaceport looking like two under aged workers. After asking a couple of questions, they ended up in a third-hand clothes store where Shemric found some clothes that fit. Julienne found him the cheapest ticket available all the way back to Coruscant with only one transfer at Brentaal and then walked him to his gate and gave him a handful of credits.
Before he could say anything, she kissed him soundly like two lovers soon to be parted for a long separation.
She smirked at the surprised look on his face when she stepped back. "It has been a pleasure meeting you Shemric Norm. I am not sure this makes us quite even, but it is the best I can do for you in exchange for my life several times over."
"How about another kiss?" he blurted without thinking.
She snorted at him but quickly re-engaged and kissed him more thoroughly than the first time. Shemric thought their technique might be improving.
This time though she shoved him back. "Now go on, you incorrigible Jedi boy. And do not force me to cut off your parts the next time I see you."
"Like you could..." he teased.
Her challenging look made him think she was ready to prove it right there, but he did not have his lightsaber anymore. She had told him he would not be able to take it on the ship and it might serve as a trophy to alleviate some of her Sith masters' ire. He knew he could make another and he wanted her to survive her return.
They stood there in the middle of a huge crowd just staring at each other, neither turning to leave. Finally, when his call for boarding came, Shemric turned for a moment to look at the boarding ramp and when he turned back she had disappeared into the crowd. He sighed and then started the trip back to home. Or at least to the Jedi Temple.
The voyage turned out to be less than exciting, though quite slow since she had booked him on an old passenger liner. By the time he set foot down on Coruscant, he was relieved to finally be back. The trip had helped him work out his feelings of loss at his Master's death and begin to formulate plans for his future. He did not know if another would take him on as a Padawan at his age, nearly 18 by then and in theory, still relatively new into his Learning period. It was quite possible he would be put out, but in an age of war, he doubted it would happen that way. The transport operator looked at him with skepticism when he said he did not have the cost of passage to the Temple but was a Jedi Padawan. Only when he lifted the man's lunchbox into the air did he nod quickly and allow Shemric to board.
Walking up the long steps to the Temple doors brought back emotions that surprised Shem. The Temple had never really felt like home but at that moment tears nearly came to his eyes at the familiar sights. At the large, open main doors he entered and walked to the side where there was always an attendant on duty. He reported his name, his intent and surprised the youngling there by requesting to see the Jedi Council. It was not something that very many people requested.
He walked deeper into the temple but did not see anyone he recognized. He reported to the tower elevator that would take him to the higher levels of the temple if the Council wished to see him and was surprised to see one of the actual council members waiting for him, looking anxious. Shemric thought he would have been extremely nervous confronting a Master and member of the Council before his trip to Taris. However, facing rhakghouls, Darkside-created attack dogs, and finally a demented Sith Lord had changed him in several ways.
He bowed when he met Master Lental, a blue-skinned humanoid who had been raised to that position only recently.
"Padawan Norm, it is a pleasure to see you alive; the Council is most interested to hear your report," said Lental.
"Yes, sir," was all he could say. An elevator was being held and they rose quickly with only a few words of condolence when Shemric said that his master had been killed on Taris.
Shemric did admit to a moment of nervousness when he realized that Master Lental was leading him directly into the Council Chamber. Norm reached out to the Force and calmed himself in preparation for what was to come.
Grand Master Zym, nodded, though it was hard to say what he might be thinking behind his Kel Dorian mask, and welcomed him back before wishing him condolences at his late master's passing. He seemed to already know some things. Then he asked Shemric to give a report of his activities.
Buoyed by his new-found connection to the Force, Shemric plunged on, telling his story as fully as possible with only some slight hedging when his relationship with Julienne came up. The council sat quietly without asking any questions until he had completed his entire tale. No one spoke and Shemric thought they might be waiting on the Grand Master to comment first.
"Shemric Norm, I find your actions in this matter to be full of decisiveness, creative thinking, compassion and good judgment," said Zym finally. "Many a Knight could have done much worse in similar circumstances. In addition, I find it hard to believe many Knights would have done better when confronting a Sith Lord, much less their Palawan's." Several of the other masters stirred at this; there were several on the council that had opposed Shemric on numerous occasions. The implication that Shem's actions were worthy of Knightly behavior clearly bothered them. "Please withdraw for a moment while we discuss this matter in private." Again, there was agitation. Several of them appeared to want to question him. "Please stand by in case we have further questions."
Shemric left the chamber and sat outside. Meditation helped calm his mind and when he was called back in he felt ready to answer questions. One of the masters who had not been on his side earlier quickly addressed the first question. It was Master Hoilan, a human male who had always shown Shemric a cold expression or knowing, unpleasant look.
"Padawan Norm," began the man, "several of us disagree with the Grand Master about your decision to confront the Sith Lord. Surely there were other options available to you rather than a direct attack?"
"In speaking with the Sith Apprentice, she noted that I was very easy to pick out from among all the other beings and creatures of Taris," said Shemric carefully. "She described me as a splinter in your finger that you know is there but cannot really remove." Several of the masters smiled at this description. "Had I attempted to steal a ship from the Sith forces, he would have felt me coming thereby provoking a confrontation anyway or perhaps leading to the deaths of soldiers he sent instead."
"Instead you chose to confront a Sith and trust another?" said Hoilan derisively.
"Let us not forget that he proved correct in both cases," said Master Lanoka, a female Togruta.
"Only through sheer luck," said Hoilan.
"Was it luck that he survived that long in a battle against a Sith Lord?" asked Master Pianeta, a Twilek male. "Was it luck that he carried a weapon close at hand that allowed him to take advantage of the Sith Lord's hubris to finish him?"
"Call it what you want, but rewarding the boy for a failed mission is ridiculous," pointed out Hoilan. He had several cronies on the council that nodded but in general the council did not seem to agree.
"Let it go Hoilan, it does your reputation as a Master no good when you carry your petty feud with his father on to the second generation," said Master Lanoka in a calm voice.
"The boy should never have been allowed to start training!" shouted Hoilan, coming to his feet. Lanoka rose slowly and faced him with a look of utter calm.
"On the contrary," she continued, "whether anyone wants to acknowledge it or not, Shemric may be the most talented lightsaber duelist we have seen in a generation..."
Hoilan interrupted her. "Who could not lift a pen with the Force and had such a block as to make him useless!"
"I suspect the block is a thing of the past," said Grand Master Zym. "Can you not sense him in the Force?" The others looked at him and then quieted. Even Hoilan did not speak disrespectfully to the Grand Master. Both masters sat again while Shemric tried to control his expression at the things the others had revealed. "Let the Council remember that we are here to seek more information and so far only one question has been asked of Padawan Norm."
Master Lental filled the silence with another question. "Did these survivors say how they have managed after all this time? After hundreds of years they should have all succumbed to the rhakghoul disease."
"Yes, Master, they were not actually survivors of the initial bombardment," said Shem. "They were a passenger ship that had navigation issues and then were attacked by pirates and left stranded. The best they could do was limp to Taris and then get their population into the safest location possible. They have been there for more than ten years before we met them. I rather suspect they survived because their chief had Force-healing powers. In any case, he felt very strong in the Force. And he was Kel Dorian, Grand Master."
No one in the council spoke for some time and all seemed to be looking to the Grand Master.
"I find myself quite intrigued to meet this person," said the Grand Master. "I think I shall lead the rescue effort." This generated quite a bit of surprise from the other members of the Council and a slight smile from Hoilan. It was not a smile that Shemric liked. "Master Lanoka, I will leave you as the senior member of the Council in my absence. Padawan Norm, you will go and spend some time resting while I make arrangements."
Shemric bowed quickly and then walked slowly out of the council chamber before running off at a good clip. He had no desire to meet Master Hoilan any time soon.
The trip back to Taris was made with a huge Republic fleet of warships. Maybe the promise of a large store of munitions was real or not, but it was a chance worth taking. The small remaining squadron of Sith ships fled quickly when they entered the system. Tagging along on the Grand Master's heels proved to be quite educational. For one thing, he spent a lot of time on the bridge listening to reports and orders given.
When they took a shuttle down to the surface it seemed so surreal compared to their entry only a few weeks ago when his master was still alive. With an escort of Republic soldiers let by the grand master, it did not take them very long to locate a way down and then they simply waited to be contacted.
It took less than two hours once they descended for a patrol to find them and then another hour to meet with the survivors' chief face to face. Only Shemric was allowed in with Zym to witness the strange meeting. After spending some time with the Grand Master, he was beginning to recognize a little of the typical Kel Dorian facial expression and the survivors' chief looked extremely pleased to see them. He immediately stood and rounded his desk to embrace the Grand Master.
"I cannot believe it is you, Dalvin," said the Grand Master. "After so long."
That was how Shemric learned that the mysterious Force user was the current Grand Master's brother who had been lost on a mission over ten years earlier. The evacuation of the survivors went extremely smoothly and it was not until they began the recovery effort for the large munitions store that things went sour. Unfortunately, the Grand Master sent Shemric off with one of the loads of refugees and he missed the Second Battle of Taris and ended up back at the Jedi Temple again.
The next month of Shem's life was very odd. He was back in the familiar confines of the temple but not really treated like a Padawan. He had apparently earned a certain amount of fame and perhaps seniority but was not yet entitled to the privileges of a Knight. Things did not really get interesting until he was surprised to have Master Ven Zallow find him one day and invite him to the training grounds to spar. Master Zallow had been in the council room when Shemric had spoken, but had not asked any questions nor shown any support for or against Shem.
He said very little as they walked to the training area but when they arrived he introduced the purpose of his request. "I have been asked by the Grand Master to evaluate the extent of your skills and recommend a course of action to him. As such, this will be very demanding of you. Do you feel like this is something you can undertake right now?"
"Yes, sir, I have not begun my daily run so I am still fresh," said Shem, suddenly very nervous. What kind of courses of action were they likely considering? In any case, Master Ven Zallow was known as one of the most capable of the current blade masters and Shemric wondered if that choice was a coincidence.
They went to the training area and checked out the full complement of extra training armor, padded helmets and lightsabers intended to spark and stun. When they squared off in the center of one of the larger arenas no one really noticed anything. Five minutes later that would all change.
"Are you ready, Padawan Shemric?" asked Master Zallow.
"Yes, sir," he replied.
"Then let us begin," said the Jedi Master and came at Shemric with no further warning and crashed on his defenses like a rock slide. Reflexively, Shemric fell into a Force-guided Sorensu and simply did what felt right. The first Force-shove did not catch him off guard but it was too powerful for him to block so he leaped up and rode the wave toward the wall at his back and then rebounded explosively, throwing his saber at Zallow. The Master's eyes widened and he leaped straight up away from the blade right into Shem's flying kick that caught him in the chest and sent him skidding across the room.
When Zallow came to his feet, he wore a small smile and then he was sprinting toward Shemric at incredible speed. Shemric stood without moving and then twisted just slightly to avoid the Master's flying strike. What he could not avoid was the Force-enhanced punch to the gut that sent him sprawling and gasping for air. Zallow slid to a stop and then came at him again in a flashing blur of blue saber that Shemric did his best to keep away. When he had his breath back he switched to Makasi and did his best to attack Zallow's defenses.
As the Jedi Master counterattacked, Shemric felt the Force guide his movements more than ever before and he attacked his stronger opponent with superior speed and quickness, pushing him back to the center of the training area. Both of them were breathing hard, but Shemric thought Zallow looked more winded and he pressed his advantage with lightning-quick attacks that were not particularly strong but required split-second reflexes to block.
The fight turned abruptly when Zen locked sabers on purpose and struck Shemric with his foot to the inside of his thigh. It was not debilitating, but it started cramping as the fight went on and Shemric could not leap away as readily. That meant he had to stand and fight and that gave the Master a great advantage as he hammered against Shem's defense relentlessly.
After one awkward escape, Zallow 'pushed' Shemric with a strong blast of the Force. Rather than riding it out, Shemric felt the Force currents and somehow absorbed the strength of the push. For a fraction of a moment, he felt like he was bursting with energy and he needed to act, so he used the pent up energy to leap directly at Zallow and hammer a tremendous overhand blow down on the other's saber. The master was knocked sprawling to the ground and Shemric attempted to pursue before his leg cramped so hard his knee buckled and he crumpled awkward to the ground. It seemed to take forever to right himself back to his feet and he came up at nearly the same time Zallow did.
The Jedi Master raised his hand, extinguished his lightsaber and approached Shem. He seemed to be mumbling to himself. "I am too old for this kriffing nonsense," Shemric thought he heard. The master had a concerned look on his face when he stopped. "Are you well, Shem? I may have been a bit overzealous with that kick to the thigh. I am sorry."
"I am sure I will be sore tomorrow, sir," said Shem.
"Well, have it checked in medical," said the master. "Now, I have to ask you what you just did there. I have never seen anyone absorb or disperse or whatever it was that you did with that Force-push. You looked like you were on your last gasp and then suddenly you are leaping at me with a hammer strike that like to have broken my arm."
"Uh, well, I do not really know," said Shem. "There have been times when I seem to be able to redirect the Force energy sent at me and use it to my own advantage."
"Well, it is very curious and I would like to learn more," he said. "In any case, I am quite sure I have enough information to make a recommendation to the Grand Master. Well fought today, Shemric Norm. You will not be the only one that is sore tomorrow."
Zallow shook his hand and it occurred to Shemric that the Jedi Master had not called him a boy or youngling once after their bout. When Shemric turned to go to medical he started at how quiet the arena was. And they had a very large audience. His face turned red as he realized nearly everyone in the training area had stopped to watch and were now staring directly at him. He ducked his head and limped off as quickly as possible in the direction of medical.
He spent the next half-hour receiving treatment for a bruised groin muscle, but at least he could walk when he left. It was now late morning and he was quite hungry, so he went straight to the mess hall and loaded up his tray before finding an out of the way seat. Wherever he went the talk died down to a buzz as he passed and it was extremely uncomfortable. Finally, he saw a familiar face, a Padawan to Jedi Master Ullian who had been friends with Master Keddis. Her name was Wren and she was a 15-year-old human.
"Can I sit with you Wren?" he asked quietly.
She looked up in surprise. "Of course, Shem, I am happy to see you alive and am sorry about Master Keddis. Master Ullian said he was always a good friend."
He mumbled something and then began to eat without much attempt at speaking. Since Wren was nearly finished, she started up the conversation.
"So the rumor is going around that you captured a Sith Lord, fought off his apprentice and discovered a lost civilization," she said sweetly. "I told them all that was silly. I would be happy to tell them what really happened … "
Shem smiled and tried to decide if he was more interested in having the truth know or more annoyed that everyone was speculating. He finally decided the truth would suffice and as the Council had not told him to keep quiet, there was no harm in doing so. Padawan Wren seemed more than happy to sit and listen to the entire tale and that was how the story started to circulate among his peers.
After the training session with Master Zallow, Shemric was pretty much left to his own devices. It seemed very odd for a day or so not to have someone to follow in the Jedi Temple or classes to attend and at first, he enjoyed the relaxation. However, free time soon became sitting around and he felt … well, useless, and more than a little bored so he decided to create his own course of study. He made himself a daily regimen that included morning meditation, lightsaber training with whomever he could find and then spent a full three hours studying and doing research in the library. He searched on numerous topics of which he was curious and learned a great deal about healing, the Planet of Tarsis, the long-running conflict with the Sith, the many ways the Force could be used to enhance physical characteristics and many other subjects that often piqued his interest when he was searching for something else entirely.
Before eating lunch he would run up the entire flight of steps from the bottom to the top of the temple, take the elevator down and then do it one more time. After lunch he met with Master Killanin, the resident Jedi Master expert for lightsaber construction. Master Killanin always welcomed visitors as she claimed most Jedi took little interest in construction once they had passed their trials and created their own saber.
"If you let the Force guide, my youngling— you create a weapon that fits the hand and person to make better your," she came together with her fingers, "to the Living Force." Master Killanin was a female wookie who had learned basic words and phrases in Common but most often communicated with her hands in clever demonstrations.
On this day, Killanin was assembling a lightsaber from its component parts that were spread throughout the room. "Watch," she said. Her personal workshop was a chaotic mix of parts and old cast-offs and experimental weapons. In an instant, she brought all the various components together and suddenly the saber blazed blue in the middle of the room. In another instant, the light was extinguished and the parts flew across the room to various locations.
"But why would you need to use that?" he inquired.
She growled at him and then cocked her head. "Unarmed," she said, holding out her empty hand. "Now weapon," she said as she recombined the components to her saber and held it in her hand.
He nodded and asked if he could try it himself.
"Focus on group, not individual," she said and broke the saber into components and slowly returned them to the niches of the workroom. "You have?"
"I think so," said Shem. He tried to bring them back together quickly but Killanin held up her hand. "Slow, first time," she said. He nodded. When he brought them together slowly, he tried to sense the group and their position in the room. Then he brought them together in a flash.
The wookie hooted and clapped him on the back hard enough to make him grunt. "Again," she said. Shemric separated the pieces and sent them to different areas that he chose and then brought them back together. "Again," she said.
He did it over and over again until Killanin let out a whoop. "Very good. Can be useful."
"I will think on this," he said. "I can see how knowing your saber in that detail could be very helpful, especially when you are clandestine, trying to keep your identity secret.
"Practice," said Killanin.
"I will," he promised.
They also looked at variations on the saber including a pike and staff and she showed him how to construct and power them, how to make them more efficient, how to build things out of scrap parts. It was all techie-geek stuff that you never really had to know as Padawans, but it fascinated Shem, and Killanin was more than happy to spend the time showing him the many things she had learned. He spent afternoons in the workshop and truly enjoyed himself.
Shemric's period of limbo lasted for five weeks until he was approached one day by Master Zym, lately of Taris. It was the first time since their meeting on Taris that he had made any attempt to approach Shemric. Shem stood quickly and bowed out of reflex. "Good morning, Master Zym. May I be of service?"
"Walk with me Shemric," he said and did not wait for Shem to follow. They walked along for several minutes before Master Zym finally spoke. "It seems that you have created an issue for my dear brother, the grand master." When Shemric made to speak he held up a hand. "I do not say this to criticize, but it is an issue nonetheless. He feels deep gratitude for you being the instrument of my rescue, but he also is receiving a great deal of resistance from certain parties to the idea of you being elevated to knight." The master shrugged. "I think it has more to do with political maneuvering than it does your qualifications as a Jedi. Plus, some of the council do not think you have spent sufficient time as a Padawan, despite your age."
Shemric was not particularly surprised by anything that Master Zym said. He was not consequent enough for the council to spend a lot of time discussing unless there were other factors involved. It explained why he had not been given an assignment, dismissed or picked up by another master, assuming there was one willing.
"I am considering taking you on as a Padawan, since I care nothing for the politics and am very grateful myself," said Master Zym. "However, I am old, as you see and will not be able to truly train you in many ways you may need. Personally, I think they should just make you a knight and be done with it, but most will see that as simply rewarding you for doing a personal favor to the Grand Master, whether true or not. They wish to give you no credit at all for leading to the large weapons cache. I find it all rather petty, since I am old and have no time to worry about such things." Master Zym stopped abruptly and looked at Shemric. You could not really see his eyes, but he glanced in Shem's direction. "I can teach you many things, but in this age of war, I cannot provide you with much combat training. That will have to come from others and not all are going to be willing. I will need to arrange something … if you are willing?"
Shemric's mind was racing. Master Zym was quite old but Shem's greatest weakness had nothing to do with lightsaber combat and thus, the offer from Master Zym to train him in other things would be very valuable. "Sir, it would be a privilege to learn from you."
"Well, I was intrigued to see what you would do with your free time and was pleased to see that you spent your time in learning in the library," said Zym. "Plus, Master Killanin and I were Padawans together and she speaks well of your technical skills. In truth, we probably will not spend a lot of time together because you really should be a knight, but mainly I want to work with you on connecting consistently with the Force and becoming a better conduit."
After more discussion, it was agreed that Shemric would study with Master Zym each day in the afternoon, leaving the rest of his time open to continue the things he had already been studying. It became quickly apparent after their first lesson together that Master Zym was determined to break down Shemric's block once and for all. They spent hours in near meditation until Shem was sure he could almost understand Master Zym's thoughts at times.
When he mentioned this, the master nodded. "Very good, Shemric. You have to be very sensitive to be able to glean even the gist of my thoughts. I want you to do something, now. I am going to try and 'send' you a thought. If you understand it, then follow the instruction."
Shemric closed his eyes again and tried to concentrate on Master Zym's aura in the Force. A few moments later he had the impression that his master wanted him to pick up and object off the table without opening his eyes. He felt at the objects on the table and lifted the Jedi Master's tablet into the air as easily as if he had used his hand. When he opened his eyes, he was surprised at the ease of the task and nearly dropped it as a result.
Master Zym made the Kel Dorian equivalent of a laugh. "When you are thinking about it too much it is hard; when you relax, it is easy. Think on that young Shemric. Only your bad habits are holding you back." Master Zym never referred to Shemric as a Padawan, but did take great pleasure in teaching him to stop being blocked by his childhood. Shemric set the tablet down carefully and smiled at the Kel Dor.
"I will work on this, Master Zym," he said. "It seems that greater sensitivity makes all things easier."
"Not all things, but certainly telekinesis and other tools do not have to feel like you are lifting a great weight."
They separated and Shemric went off looking for lunch. Instead, he found Jedi Master Panarch waiting for him. Shem was surprised to see him, as he had been fighting on Balmorra for some time and rarely returned. He was a stark-faced man who hated the Sith for reasons he never shared and he rarely left the fighting.
Shemric bowed. "Master Panarch."
"Walk with me, Padawan Shemric," said the master. He did not seem like a man who liked to stand idle. "The Grand Master has recommended you to me as a possible enlistee in our fight on Balmorra. Master Zym tells me you are a capable fighter and that only silly Jedi internal politics are preventing you from being made a Knight." He walked a number of steps without speaking, but his scowl was message enough. "I care nothing for politics that don't help us defeat the Sith. The Grand Master said he would release you to me, if you wished to go."
Shemric walked on in silence, considering. The fight on Balmorra was hotly contested with many casualties. Some Jedi had gone there and returned, telling stories of the fighting, but only Panarch had stayed for the entire fight.
"What do you imagine I would be doing for you?" asked Shemric.
Panarch responded immediately. "I need a subordinate. Someone who can go and do things when I cannot go myself. My responsibilities have increased to the point where I cannot be everywhere at once. I need to be able to send you to carry out my orders and know they will be followed, but not follow blindly when the situation requires. I need a hard-thinking, clever soldier. Are you him?"
Shemric suddenly wanted very much to be part of the war. As a Padawan he would do very little actual fighting for years yet. This was an opportunity to matter, immediately.
"I can be him, sir," said Shemric. "I would love to have something I do matter. And sooner than five years from now."
Panarch looked at him and smiled, but there was no humor in it. The man did not even speak—he just held out his hand and when Shem took it Panarch nodded. "I very much wondered why the Grand Master would recommend a Padawan to me, Shemric. I have no use for a Padawan and I will not treat you like one."
"Very good, sir," said Shemric.
"Then let's get to work," said Panarch.