Well, here we are...Chapter Seven is up, and, to say thanks for reading, it's the longest chapter this story has yet seen.
As usual, Star Wars belongs to Disney (still feels wierd typing that), not to me. Now, on with the show!
ADDITIONAL STORIES BYGuardian Kitch:
Star Wars: Jedi Wasteland (Star Wars/Star Wars: The Clone Wars)
Teen Titans: The Approaching Storm (Teen Titans/Star Wars)
Gates of Terabithia (Bridge to Terabithia)
Sins of the Father (Harry Potter)
Harry Potter and the Labyrinth of Evil (Harry Potter)
Chapter Seven: Call of Duty
{Location: Crown Jewel District, Hydia, Inner Core}
The young woman sitting across from the table amazed the young Jedi Knight. Even now, at the age of twenty-six years old, when he'd traveled the galaxy and seen so much, the woman amazed him. She had been assaulted and beaten, she had lost the one role in life she'd been used to, and yet, even now, she was acting like a proper lady raised in the Royal Court of the Hydian Crown. She ate the gourmet soup in a dignified manner, hiding her bruises and injuries with a mixture of clothing and cosmetic products befitting a queen, not a mere servant of the royal family. She had, he concluded, spent a great deal of time and resources into making it appear as though everything was completely normal for her...or someone else had.
Jax chewed religiously on the chunk of nerfburger in his mouth, trying to figure out exactly what he was going to say to the handmaiden of the Senior Princess of Hydia, and how, exactly, he was going to go about saying it. He knew there was more going on here than what met the eye, far more than the Jedi had been informed about upon accepting the plea for assistance. What that was, however, Jax Talia did not know, but it was something he had to find out, and soon.
"Sierra," Jax said slowly, taking his time to speak. "I know yer lyin' ta me, just as I know the whole Royal Court is lyin' ta me."
"I-I don't understand, Master Jedi."
"The facts don't match the story yer tellin' me, an' as much respect as I have fer yeh and yer masters I trust the facts more than I trust yer words."
"I-"
"If there is anything yer not tellin' me, Sierra, I must know, now. My Padawan is missin', I ain't heard from him in several hours; he shoulda already checked in. I can no longer sense him through the Force either; I know somethin' has happened ta him."
"I apologize, Master Jedi, and I mean you no disrespect, but perhaps your senses have failed-"
"That, meh dear, is not possible." Jax interrupted, quickly checking his temper. "The bond between a Jedi Knight an' his Padawan Learner is among the strongest in the known galaxy."
The young woman said nothing as she stirred the soup in an endless circle with her utensils. Jax knew she was lying, a fact he could recognize even without the subtle hint from the Force, that quiet nudge in the back of his mind that assured him she was hiding something.
"I am sorry, Master Jedi." She said at last. "But I have given my story and I stand by what I said."
"Sierra," Jax pressed on, feeling the first shades of agitation setting in. "My dear, yeh don't have ter be afraid any longer; yeh will have the full protection of the Jedi Order behind yeh-"
"I'm not afraid, Master Jedi."
"Yes, yeh are. I can sense it rollin' off of yeh in waves. I can see how yer masters have punished yeh fer yer failure in protectin' the Senior Princess. Do not presume ta think I can't see the bruises an' scares under those cosmetic products."
"Do not presume to think you know the puzzle, Master Jedi." The young woman warned, and there, in her eyes, was a flash of something, something major, something that, when and if Jax figured it out, would give him the answers he needed to complete this assignment.
"I reckon there are some things 'bout this situation that I dunno." Jax admitted. "'Tis the reason I am speakin' with yeh here now. If yeh give me the information I need yeh have meh word yeh will get the full protection o' the Jedi Order."
"The Jedi are inferior to them." The woman said. "Not even your noble Order could protect me from my masters."
Jax said nothing as he began chewing on another bite of nerf meat, and pretending to be hungry he thought some more on the situation at hand. The handmaiden was beyond scared, she was terrified, horrified at the mere thought of what the king and queen of Hydia could do to her if she defied them...
Another thought suddenly entered the Jedi Knight's mind, one he'd not yet even considered. Throughout the course of their conversation this handmaiden, Sierra, had not once referred to the queen or king of Hydia in a specific manner. Every time she spoke of them she kept referring to them as "my masters", something that, until just now, Jax had not thought of.
What if, Jax suddenly found himself asking, she wasn't a victim but rather a criminal? What if, rather than be unable to defend the princess, she had refused to defend the princess? Part of the theory he and Pax had put together was centered around the fact that the kidnapping had been too easy, suggesting there had been inside help in kidnapping the young girl. Who better to help kidnap the Senior Princess than her own handmaiden, her closest confidant?
This seemed almost impossible, Jax quickly told himself. He could see no visual signs of deception, signs he'd been taught to look for during his training with the Republic's Judicial forces, training he'd eagerly undertaken at the behest and encouragement of his old mentor, Jedi Master Plo Koon. To add to his confusion and hesitation to accept this newest possibility was the fact that he got no sense of deception from the Force; there was no illuminating light to dispell the shadows her words were casting.
And yet this seemed extraordinarily possible, Jax countered himself. Princess Wasoni had been kidnapped using the hidden tunnel under her bed, a tunnel that had likely always served as part of a larger escape route for the entire Royal Family in times of crisis. According to his investigation, only the most trusted of advisors and servants knew about these tunnels, and Sierra Klevs was up there with that select, miniscule group. Perhaps that was the reason the Royal Family had punished the young woman in such a way; perhaps they suspected her of assisting the kidnappers in jeopardizing the Crown's future.
Not bothering to finish his half-eaten nerfburger, Jax stood up, placed a handful of credits on the table in front of him, and move forward, stopping to place a single hand on the handmaiden's shoulder.
"I vow this, meh dear; my Padawan an' I will find Princess Wasoni. We will discover who is ta blame fer this crime an' fer this crime they will be punished. When the Antares takes off we will have served justice...fer all." He pulled an electrical chip from his cloak. "Here are meh comlink codes. If yeh need me or decide yeh have somethin' to tell me, yeh may contact me, at any time."
And without saying another word he took off through the restaurant's front door, already pulling his comlink from his utility belt as he entered the alley next to the fancy establishment. In silence he entered a code he'd been given upon arrival and waited for it to go through.
"Cia Shevu, Colonel of Royal Security. Something I can help you with, Master Talia?"
"Colonel Shevu, I need everything yeh have on Princess Wasoni's head handmaiden."
"Sierra Klevs?" The young guard asked. "Do you suspect her?"
"Not at the moment. Nothin' adds up though, and I'm sure we can both agree that it ain't wise ta discount a viable theory."
"I second that, my Jedi friend. I'm transmitting even our top-level files to you now."
"Just a moment." Jax answered, pulling his datapad free and going through the list of information he'd just been given.
Sierra Klevs was only eighteen standard years of age. She'd come from a poor family living in the Orange Moon District, and at the age of five she'd been discovered by a member of the Royal Court and taken to the palace, where she'd become the handmaiden to young Melody Wasoni, Senior Princess of Hydia.
Her parents, Mathulda and Herrin Klevs, owned a small, third-rate spaceport in their native Orange Moon District, and if the information he was reading was accurate then the girl's parents owed a small fortune to the HRS for faulty taxes.
"Colonel Shevu, does Sierra Klevs keep contact with her family?"
"As per Royal Decree 619, she's allowed to return home for familial visit one week per standard galactic year, an option she's taken from the beginning of her service for the Crown."
"Officially, her background is clear." Jax continued. "What 'bout unofficially?"
"You mean has she ever been suspected of a crime that couldn't be proven?"
"Yep."
"Negative. According to her service records, she keeps her head down, her nose clean, and does her job. The Royal Family brags on her more than they do any of their other servants. Apparently the only blotch I can find is the fact that she's become more of a friend and less of a handmaiden to the Princess."
"Somethin' most parents would be happy about." Jax mused to himself. "Does the data list any particular reasoning behind their unhappiness over this fact?"
"They merely state potential security hazards." Colonel Shevu answered. "You must understand, Master Talia, that the Royal Family is very strict about their servants knowing their places and acting accordingly."
Jax did not say it, but he felt that, their scores of faults set aside, the monarchy of Hydia might well have had a reason to be so wary about their daughter's handmaiden growing so close to the future ruler of Hydia.
"You believe Sierra Klevs is somehow involved with the Senior Princess's disappearance." The colonel said after a moment of silence, and it was all Jax could do to fight his surprise: he had not expected the man to pick up on his thoughts in such a way.
"It makes no sense, an' yet it makes perfect sense."
"Master Talia, with all due respect to the Crown, they led you astray in presenting the crime scene to you upon your arrival."
"Yep, I know." Jax answered. "The kidnappers, whoever they are, used the tunnel under the princess's bed to get her out o' the palace, meanin' they had help from the inside."
"Sierra Klevs's parents own a spaceport in the Orange Moon District." Shevu said. "I'll meet you there in ten minutes, see if we can find any clues as to the girl's whereabouts."
"Copy that, Colonel. Jax Talia out."
Jax moved quickly to find an air taxi that would take him to the address they had on Sierra's parents and their spaceport. While the Jedi Knight did not approve of the way the Hydian leaders ruled, he couldn't help but admit that their head of security was one of the best he'd ever met. Cia Shevu was loyal, as loyal as any man could ever be, and he was very efficient at his job. He was a skilled investigator and a sharp detective, but he didn't allow his rank or sense of duty to warp his power. After only a single day Jax had already come to respect and even like the man.
Now if only he could make contact with his wayward Padawan. He trusted Pax to stay out of trouble; even before Jax had taken the child as his apprentice he had monitored Pax's progress and training from afar, and early on he'd realized the boy was not just a great slicer and communications expert but a handy Jedi as well, able to easily wriggle free of any trouble he found.
And yet something just didn't sit well in Jax's gut. He had been able to sense the boy from the moment he'd left, and while he'd felt the spike in emotions Jax knew to be the results of a fight he'd never felt his apprentice was in any real danger. Yet now he couldn't feel Pax at all, not even slightly. It was as though the boy had disappeared into nothingness, like he'd never even existed.
Pax Onasi wasn't dead; Jax knew he'd have felt it if his Padawan had become one with the Force. Being not dead and okay, however, were two different beings, a fact the knight knew firsthand.
{Location: Underground bunker, Volcosis, capital city of Volcam One, Inner Core}
Pax didn't know for sure how long he'd been out. His captor, whoever he, she, or it had been, had said the sedative he'd been given would knock him out for a single hour, standard time, but as the fuzzy, spinning room around him began to focus in and slow down Pax felt as though he'd been there a hundred times longer than a single hour.
Using an elementary Jedi calming technique, the young student forced the remnants of the sedative from his system, commanding his vision and other senses to listen to his will and mind once more.
Immediately he noticed he was being suspended above the ground in some kind of electrical force field. His ankles and wrists were all bound and secure, and no matter how much he wanted to he simply couldn't find the power to move. The room beyond his personal prison was warm and dark, and the light of his cage was too bright to let his eyes get accustomed to the darkness.
His lightsaber and comlink had been stripped of his body, leaving him defenseless and in a very bad way on a planet that may be no more friendly to the Jedi than their Hydian neighbors.
He closed his eyes and reached down into the Force, preparing to use it to free himself, but to his chagrin he discovered he was being constantly injected with small surges of electrical energy, making it impossible for him to concentrate long enough to use the Force. Whoever had captured him, Pax conceded, had definitely had experience with Jedi in the past; this was no amateur, not by a long shot, and that experience most likely involved captive Jedi...this was definitely not the way he'd expected his first mission outside of the Temple to go.
"Good," That mechanical voice said. "You're awake. I was beginning to wonder if I didn't give you too much of that sedative."
"How long have I been out?" Pax asked.
"Two and a half hours." It answered. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I need a vacation to Alderaan."
"I've got questions," It ignored. "And for your sake, Jedi, you had better have some answers."
"I shall do my best." Pax responded. "However, if I do not have an answer I shall not lie to you."
"Why've you been assigned to Volcam One?"
"I was never assigned to Volcosis, nor was I ever assigned to Volcam One."
"Then what are you doing here?"
Pax considered for a moment whether or not he should tell the truth, but immediately he knew it would be best to do so...he could use that, he knew, to get information of his own. "I am on a sanctioned quest by the Hydian monarchy to search for their missing female offspring, the Senior Princess of Hydia, Melody Wasoni."
"What makes you think she's here on Volcam One?"
"I discovered a hidden tunnel under her bed in her private chambers. The incognito tunnel led me to Hydia's Orange Moon District, where I tracked her to a small spaceport. Here I obtained security holograms showing her embarking on a registered ship that journeyed here to Volcosis, capital city of Volcam One."
"Who assigned you this mission?"
"The Jedi Council, at the request of the Galactic Senate, at the request of the monarchy of Hydia."
"What have those fools told you?"
"That the Senior Princess of Hydia has been kidnapped and that we are to locate her and return her safely to Hydia."
"So you deny being hired by Hydia to assassinate the Emperor of Volcam One in an effort to collect the money owed?"
"I am aware of the outstanding debt owed to the Hydian monarchy by the Vryn throne, yes, but my mission was not to assassinate him: Jedi do not assassinate anyone."
It laughed.
"You dress like a Jedi, speak like a Jedi, and carry a Jedi lightsaber, and yet you seem too young to be a Jedi Knight-"
"I am no Jedi Knight." Pax corrected. "I am merely a Padawan Learner. My master is currently on Hydia searching for the missing Senior Princess as well."
"You expect me to believe you?" It asked with another laugh.
"I do expect you to accept my words." Pax confirmed. "I am, after all, speaking the truth to you-"
"You're no Jedi and we both know it." It countered. "If you were any kind of Jedi I'd never have taken you so easily."
Pax opened his mouth to speak but closed it instead; he had asked himself that very question several times in the past couple of minutes. Why hadn't he sensed his captor coming up on him; why hadn't the Force warned him of the impending trouble? Of course, almost immediately, he found that he already knew his answer, as ashamed as he was to admit it.
"I did not sense your arrival because I allowed myself to be too distracted by my target."
"Perhaps." It considered. "We'll see, however; Emperor Detreo will decide whether or not you speak the truth. Guards!"
The door across from Pax opened and a squad of battle droids walked in, blaster rifles raised and at the ready.
"You are funded by the Trade Federation." Pax observed evenly.
"No." It countered. "We've purchased some of the droids once used by the Trade Federation; they're scrambling to downsize their corporate armies."
"I do not blame them, not after their invasion." Pax replied, his mind already at work figuring out a plan of escape. His lightsaber was nowhere to be seen, but that did not mean he was helpless.
"I'm turning your stasis field off; try anything stupid and I'll vap you where you stand."
"I understand."
It nodded and pressed a button on the power unit, and as Pax dropped to his feet the battle droids moved forward.
"Take him to His Excellency's main audience chamber." His captor instructed, but even as the lead battle droid approached him Pax was on the move.
He lashed out with a powerful Force Push, sending his captor flying back across the room, and jumping to his feet he used the Force to pull one of the droid's blaster rifle free of its hand.
The moment the seized weapon slapped against his palm he took aim and opened fire, dodging and weaving through the web of blaster fire now lancing out towards him. His aim, Pax quickly noted, needed improving, but at such close range there was very little chance of him being defeated, and in only a single minute he was spinning around, the droids now destroyed, and raising his rifle he took aim at his captor, only to see it had a dirty, massive blaster aimed at his head.
"I told you I'd vap you if-"
His captor was cut off, however, as the pistol jerked free of its hand and flew into Pax's own free hand, and as the Jedi apprentice leveled both weapons it began laughing.
"I can't believe it; you're the real deal."
"I tried informing you of this fact, but you would not listen to me."
"I'm sorry runt, but you were pretty easy to take down; easier than most drunkards."
"I am a Jedi apprentice; I have a great deal to learn before I become a full Jedi Knight."
"So, you still looking for the Senior Princess?"
"This is a fact."
"Well," And, as though it knew he'd not fire, his captor reached up, unsealed it's helmet, and pulled the helmet free of its head. "Now that you've found me what are you going to do with me?"
Pax nearly fainted where he stood; were it not for his Jedi powers he suspected he might well have done so. The girl standing in front of him was beautiful, only a few years older than himself, and her hair was as black as the depths of space with deep, violet streaks on the ends. Her eyes, as green as Pax's lightsaber blade, looked as though they'd seen more than any fourteen year-old girl should ever have to see.
"Your highness." Pax said slowly, offering an awkward, subjective bow. "I am most pleased to see you are fine and unharmed. I also confess myself surprised that your abductors have allowed you to roam free without-"
"I was never kidnapped." Melody Wasoni corrected, cutting Pax off before he could finish his sentence. "I ran away."
"You ran away from home?" He asked, unable to believe what he was hearing.
"Congratulations; you can hear." She confirmed sarcastically.
"Your patriarch and matriarch both believe you were abducted, and while it was falsified the crime scene-"
"My parents probably staged it all." She explained. "I'm the heir to the Crown of Hydia, and they'd lose face if the galaxy found out I'd run away from home, run away from them."
"I see." Pax picked up, realizing where she was going. "Claiming you were abducted would allow your matriarch and patriarch to hunt for you without having to admit you ran away from home. I must also confess I am slightly curious as to why you ran away from Hydia to your neighboring Volcam One. I was under the assumption Hydians viewed the Vryn as third-world, sub-class beings."
"A fault that will bring us down if we don't overcome it." She explained as Pax flipped her pistol upside down and handed it to her handle-first. "My parents and the wealthier Hydians think they're so much better than the rest of the galaxy, that we're the most important planet in the entire Republic."
"I am getting the impression that you are unlike your patriarch, matriarch, and the rest of your people."
"I came to Volcam One to help them be free of the oppression they've suffered under my parents and my ancestors. We loan them a small sum of money every year, just to keep their economy afloat, and we charge them a hundred times that much in response. According to the current contract negotiated by the planets, the Period of Repayment begins in a single standard week."
"What happens if Volcam One is unable to repay the debt?" Pax asked as she led him over to a metallic box on the other side of the room.
"According to the contract, Volcam One has one standard week to repay the debt, in full, or else they will be forced to allow themselves to become annexed by the Hydian government."
"And, according to the laws of the Galactic Republic, if this were to happen then the Vryn Fleet would be incorporated into the Hydian Fleet, making it exempt from Republic laws." And then another thought entered the Padawan's mind, and suddenly he found the puzzle was at last pieced together, plainly for him to see. "They would have the single strongest fleet of any system in the Galactic Republic, meaning they could blockade themselves off, hold the major trading lanes hostage, and force the Republic to agree to any demands the Crown might make."
"If I am not there to take the throne when the time comes then the Crown will dissolve and elections would be forced, making us a democracy."
"With all due respect, Princess-"
"It's Melody." She corrected. "I have renounced my title and birthright by running away."
"A thousand apologies, Melody." Pax answered. "As I was previously stating, there is likely going to be no need for the Crown to be passed down to an heir within the next two weeks."
"Perhaps, or perhaps not-"
"You are planning to assassinate your matriarch and/or your patriarch." Pax observed.
"I don't want to." Melody said. "As much as I hate them they're still my mom and dad. However, if their plans are allowed to come to pass then they will put Hydia and the entire Republic in jeopardy." She signed. "For as long as I can remember my parents and my tutors have drilled into me the importance of duty and the importance of me doing my duty to rule over my people."
"A true ruler does not truly rule her people." Pax advised. "A true ruler merely leads her government and represents the will of her people to the planetary and galactic governments. A true queen would be a servant to her people, not their lord."
"Exactly." Melody agreed. "This is a lesson my tutors refused to teach and a lesson they never learned."
"How is it, if I might inquire, that you learned this lesson, and at such a young age?"
"My conscience, unlike my parents', is alive and well. I will never rule Hydia, but because I was once its Senior Princess I must do my duty to my planet, and if that means incapacitating or even killing my parents, then it will break my heart in two, but I will still do it."
Pax could not help but respect this young girl, a child who had renounced the privileged and entitled life she'd been born into to make sure that her planet still had a future. She was willing to kill both of her parents to protect billions, perhaps trillions, of other people, beings she'd never even met before. Some might call this the Dark Side, and the Jedi would likely be among those, but Pax felt that it was simply someone doing what she had to do.
"I offer my services," Pax said suddenly. "For the immediate future. I cannot give you my word that the Jedi Council will not call me back upon learning the truth, but until they do I will assist you."
"The help of a Jedi-in-training." She mused, a smile crossing her face. "We're so lucky to have such expert-"
"I am forbidden, however, from assisting in the assassination of anyone, including your patriarch and matriarch. If you will trust me, however, there are other ways to force your parents to surrender the Crown and bring about your desired results."
"Like what?" She challenged.
"The monarchy knowingly and willingly falsified their report to the Galactic Senate, misappropriating Senate and Jedi resources; that is a crime our new Chancellor will not take lightly. They also pose a major threat to the homeland security of the Galactic Republic through these plans to take hostage the major shipping lanes that converge on Hydia, an even more serious charge."
"And if they are arrested and convicted they will be forced to relinquish the throne, which would then go down the line of succession to the first available heir, and because Brinkley is still in a vegetative state I'm the only one capable of taking the Crown, meaning elections would be held and the Crown would dissolve forever."
"There are alternatives to murder." Pax explained as Melody turned and entered a code into the box's control pad. Once this code was accepted she opened the box and withdrew Pax's lightsaber, returning the Jedi weapon to its owner pommel first.
"I thank you." Pax said, clipping the lightsaber to his belt once more.
"Come on, I'll take you to meet with Emperor Detreo and then we can discuss our next plan of action.
Pax nodded his head. He needed to inform either Jax or the Jedi Council, he knew, and in due time he would, but for now he knew his best option was to follow the wayward princess and make sure war didn't break out.
He was sure Jax Talia would likely disapprove of his words and actions, but Pax also knew he had no other choice. If he didn't, then the king and queen of Hydia would be assassinated by Vryn commandos, likely sparking a deadly war between the neighboring planets, a war that could cripple the Republic. He was a Jedi and that was, he saw, all there was to it. The rank of Padawan, Knight, or Master no longer mattered; the Republic was in grave danger, and Melody Wasoni had done her duty; now it was time for him to do his.
{Location: Termina, Tingle Arm, Beyond the Outer Rim Territories}
The Jedi Enclave on Termina had been abandoned for over three thousand years, and right now, as Kitch Surik and Lor Kavar entered the clearing where what had once been the enclave now stood, every one of those three thousand years was showing.
Kitch had studied Jedi ruins hundreds of times in the past, but none of the images he'd come across in the Jedi Archives could even come close to what he was seeing now. The enclave had likely once been impressive. It was four massive square rooms linked together by wide corridors, and in the middle of the enclave was a giant courtyard with what had once been a retractable roof, and, according to the data Kitch had retrieved, this was where the Enclave Council, the five Jedi Masters in charge of the Jedi forces on Termina and the surrounding systems, had once met and where the texts they were now looking for would be found. Looking at the rubble, however, Kitch now asked himself how they were going to find anything among this jumble of ruins that nature had since begun to reclaim.
"Did you get a map of the enclave before we left the capital?" Lor asked, obviously thinking the same thing.
"I did." Kitch confirmed, bringing up the map on his datapad. "Of course, this map was likely made back before the Treaty of Coruscant, so it might be just a little outdated."
"Okay, what can you tell me about the Termina Enclave?"
"It was constructed nearly five thousand years ago to serve as a forward operating base for Jedi forces in this region of the galaxy due to the amount of time required to travel here from the capital.
"The four main rooms we see before us enclose a courtyard built with a retractable roof and served as the meeting chambers of the Enclave Council, which was made up of five Jedi Masters who had immediate control of Jedi Knights in this section of the galaxy. The four rooms consisted of the War Room, the Enclave Libraries, the Navigation and Communications Center, and a Garage."
"What about quarters for Jedi assigned here?"
"The sublevels of the enclave housed the number of Jedi Apprentices, Knights, and Masters assigned to this part of the galaxy. Each room had two bunks, one for a Knight and the other for his or her apprentice."
"What about defenses?"
"At one time there were considerable surface-to-air defenses and anti-troop defenses, as well as a deflector shield that covered the enclave and surrounding area. The sublevels also housed a small armory with which the Enclave Council could arm the nearby colonists should the need arise.
"Following the Treaty of Coruscant, however, as per the conditions agreed upon at the Treaty's signing, the Order abandoned all of its enclaves, most of which were then occupied by Sith forces. Eventually, all known Jedi Enclaves were retaken by Republic forces, but only a select handful were ever reused; the Termina Enclave was not among them. As time moved on, the Order's use of enclaves slowly died off, and now the Order operates out of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant."
"Impressive." Lor commended. "You've studied."
"According to the information Master Yoda and the Council gave us the hidden archives containing the Order's ancient texts would be located under the courtyard where the Enclave Council once met." Kitch continued. "It was designed so that no scanners or other technology could ever locate them without prior knowledge of the room, a move to protect this knowledge from the prying eyes of the Sith assigned to occupy the planet."
"And what is your opinion on the use of enclaves?"
"Ma'am?"
"Some Jedi, particularly older Jedi, believe the we should reinstate the use of the Enclave System, repair and reopen some of our older, more remote enclaves; what do you think?"
Kitch thought on the subject a moment before answering. "I believe it has its advantages, just as it has its draw backs. The advantages are obvious enough: a Jedi team coming from an enclave on, say, Dantooine, could reach planets like Muunilinst and Bimmiel faster than a Jedi Team having to come from Coruscant, and in a volatile situation where time is of the essence that would be the difference between success and failure. Also, with Jedi enclaves spread throughout the galaxy the Jedi would have more of a day-to-day presence in the lives of billions of Republic citizens, meaning more beings would come to trust us."
"And the disadvantages?"
"It would spread the Order out too thin. Millennia ago the Enclave System worked perfectly, when there were thousands and thousands of Jedi Knights to serve the galaxy, but now, when we number just under a full ten thousand spread across the galaxy, when our numbers have been falling for the past century straight, it could prove disastrous."
"If the decision was up to you?"
Kitch hesitated in answering. He had often thought that housing the Jedi Order on a planet as crowded as Coruscant was a mistake, for a host of reasons, among them the fact that there was so many beings that could influence a Jedi youngling in a negative way. However, he also knew that housing the Order in a few dozen enclaves was dangerous, for like he'd just explained to Lor the Jedi numbers were declining. Finally, though, he spoke.
"I would continue to do as we're doing now." Kitch answered. "The dangers of spreading our numbers too thin right now are too great, and when we add in the dangers now faced with the Sith being active once more, it's just better to keep our numbers concentrated at one main base of operations. A hundred Jedi are more powerful than one Jedi. I would, however, move the Jedi Temple."
"Move the Jedi Temple?"
Kitch nodded. "Coruscant is too crowded to properly train the most powerful and, possibly, the most dangerous beings in the galaxy. There isn't a piece of Coruscant left that's natural. The Force surrounds us, penetrates us, and binds the galaxy together. It is in every living thing, from the smallest insect to the biggest animal or being known. With only a trillion or two Coruscanti citizens to fuel the Force on the capital the dangers are astronomical. The Force is ever-so-slowly becoming more and more clouded, especially on Coruscant. I do not feel the Jedi Temple is as pure as it should be."
"A view most would say is way out there, near Potentium-levels." Lor said softly, mentioning a group of exiled Jedi who believed the Jedi view on the Force was flawed.
"And you?" Kitch asked slowly. "What would you say, Master Kavar?"
"I would say you're still young, with much to learn." Lor admitted. "However, I would add that I would never consider discounting your opinion merely because you're still young."
The two began approaching the enclave, which was still far enough away that they couldn't see the front entrance properly.
"Kitch," Lor said, again using his first name, a rare act in and of itself. "I never properly thanked you for what you did to get us out in one piece before the Challenger's reactor went critical."
"No thanks needed, Master Kavar; I did what any Jedi would have done."
"Perhaps, but you went above and beyond the call of duty; I owe you my life." She laughed. "When Jocasta Nu first assigned you to tag along with me I was furious."
"A Jedi doesn't get furious-"
"We do." Lor corrected. "To get angry, upset, mad, or hurt is to be sentient; it's what sets us apart from most animals. To control those emotions is to be a Jedi. I was furious that she was forcing me to take an apprentice with me, a mere boy I knew very little about, a child, rumor has it, had never even turned his lightsaber on, much less use it." She turned and smiled down at him. "I am glad I was wrong."
"Wrong?"
She nodded her head. "At the time I thought Madame Jocasta and Master Yoda were showing that they didn't believe in me to get such an easy task accomplished, that they were sending you along to "monitor" me. Now, though, I realize what they were getting at; they knew how dangerous this place was, and even though I didn't realize it I needed someone at my back, someone trustworthy." She placed a comforting hand on his shoulders. "You'll make someone a great Padawan soon, I foresee."
"You, perhaps?" He asked, hoping that Lor would not see the small glimmer of hope lying under his coat of sarcasm and humor. The Jedi Knight, however, shook her head.
"I'm not ready for an apprentice yet, Apprentice Surik." She said. "Taking on a Padawan Learner is one of the most important decisions any Jedi at any level can make. It requires intense meditation on the Jedi in question's part. It requires that Jedi, and the apprentice, to put their safety, their life, into another's hands. A Jedi Knight must teach her learner all she knows-" Lor cut off and sighed. "I'm not ready to become a teacher, Kitch."
He nodded his head without speaking; he understood her words well, and while he was ready to move up in the ranks of the Jedi he knew it would do great harm for her to take him when she felt she wasn't yet ready.
"Regardless," He said eventually, the enclave ruins now coming closer. "I have learned a lot from you, Master Kavar. In a few days I've learned double what I've learned during my entire life. It's been a pleasure, ma'am."
"And it's been a pleasure teaching you. I do, however, have a question."
"Master Kavar?"
"That." She explained. "No matter what I say you're always calling me 'Master'; why?"
"Because it's your proper title." Kitch explained, curious as to why she would ask such a question. She laughed.
"I just became a Jedi Knight," She explained. "Fresh out of my apprenticeship; I'm years from becoming a Jedi Master."
"Perhaps you're years from being officially declared a Jedi Master by the Council, but I believe you've already achieved the rank, even if it is unofficial."
"Such sentimentality." A woman's voice spat suddenly, forcing the pair of Jedi to stop dead in their tracks. "It's a wonder the Jedi have survived for so long."
"Who are you?" Lor asked, and while her hands did not move Kitch could feel her preparing for battle; she would, he realized, have her weapons drawn before their enemies even suspected.
"Your worst nightmare." The voice answered darkly, and at last Kitch could see their visitors; from the shadows cast by the ruins of what had once been the front entrance to the Jedi Enclave of Termina, a trio of figures strode confidently into the light, and immediately, despite the strength of the Force on this planet, it felt to Kitch as though a massive thunderstorm had suddenly blown in, a feeling he'd felt once before, not so long ago...
"I must give the Jedi their dues." The figure on the far right, the only male of the group, said with a sharp laugh. "I'd not have expected them to survive that crash landing."
"You shot us down." Lor said, and while her voice was even Kitch could feel the anger beginning to roll off of her, something he didn't need the Force for.
"What are you going to do about it, Jedi?" The middle figure, a woman, asked. "You can't hope to defeat us; we're far too powerful for the likes of you."
"I'll be the judge of that." Lor answered.
Snap-hiss.
Kitch held his feelings in check as three identical crimson blades snapped into life, the three figures continuing their lazy march towards the Jedi pair.
Snap-hiss.
Lor Kavar's identical blades screamed to life as the Knight took her stance, the blades held up in front of her, criss-crossing one another in a silvery "X", ready to take whatever their opponents dished out.
"You're better off surrendering." The man said. "You will not prevail, for we are Sith."
"Sith?" Kitch asked, laughing now. "That's funny, because there are always two Sith, never any more, never any less. A master to embody power, and an apprentice to crave it."
"The Sith would never retake the galaxy using such stupid rules." The woman said. "The fool Darth Bane would have us spend the rest of eternity in a weakened state, lying in the shadows under the Jedi Order's heel. That is why our noble ancestors fled to Termina to hide themselves and slowly train up only the most powerful army in history, an army that would finish the war between the Jedi and Sith once and for all!"
"You're no more Sith Lords than I am." Kitch countered. "I just encountered a Dark Lord, a member of, as you called him, Darth Bane's Code of Two: this Sith's power would snuff you out like a weak flame in a thunderstorm, and this was just a vision, not even an in-person meeting."
In response the youngest member of the group, a girl to the far left, raised her hands, and from her fingers erupted the power of ten thunderstorms, aimed directly at Kitch. Before her lethal attack could reach him, however, Lor's right silver blade was dropping in front of him, catching the electrical assault and turning it harmlessly away.
The two older dark opponents took this opportunity and charged forward in unison, forcing Lor to twirl away from Kitch in order to defend herself. Her lightsabers were a blur of motion, easily warding off the two self-proclaimed Sith Lords as she allowed them to push her back. Kitch, however, now turned his focus to the third member of the group, the girl who looked to be no older than he was, studying her cloaked figure and trying to determine how best to defeat her.
"What are you waiting for?" Kitch asked, standing mere feet away from her. "I have taken no steps to defend myself; a true Lord of the Sith would have already struck me down."
"Your Jedi treachery will not save you now." She said, and while he could sense the anger and hatred flowing from her she still did not move.
"Jedi treachery?" Kitch asked. "I'm afraid I really have no idea what you're talking about."
In response the girl used the Force to send her cloak flying behind her, and as she brought her lightsaber up she began to circle Kitch, forcing him to do the same. Neither of them spoke, and taking advantage of this silent, tense peace the young Jedi began to study his opponent in detail, hoping to find some weakness he could exploit.
She was several inches shorter than he was and could be no older than he was, and while most would say this youth made her less skilled, Kitch, being a Jedi, knew better: physical age and status had no power where skill and intelligence ruled.
Her dirty blonde hair was kept in a tight ponytail that hugged her back as it traveled down to her waist, and her red and yellow eyes looked as though they could pierce anything, a side effect, Jedi records indicated, that came from constant submission to the Dark Side of the Force. She wore a jet black bodysuit that hugged her body tightly, revealing the two small mounds that were in fact her budding breasts, the first sign that she was beginning to mature from a girl into a woman.
The lightsaber in her hand was as simple as it was deadly, a mere black cylinder, metallic in design, with no true design and an emitter that gave life to a blade the color of blood.
Her face bore black tribal-style paint, false tattoos similar to those sported by the Zabrak Sith Lord who'd killed Qui-Gon Jinn on Naboo just days ago. Her lips and fingernails were also painted black, and several poisonous darts lined the belt wrapped around her waist.
"Like what you see?" She asked with a sneer, still not moving to attack the defenseless Jedi enemy before her.
There was something else about this girl, though, something that was currently lying dormant under the clouds of darkness surrounding her, but for the life of him he couldn't figure out what it was...if only he could use the Force properly like normal.
"This planet is an amplifier in addition to a suppresser." An unknown voice said in the Padawan's ear. "The entire planet is the Force itself; use it."
"What?" Kitch asked dully, closely eyeing his adversary.
"What?" She repeated, suspicion clouding her Sith eyes.
"What'd you say?"
"I said nothing."
"Another of your 'Sith' tricks, I suppose." Desperate now to figure out what he should do next as the sound of hissing lightsabers began to slowly grow faint.
"Do not ask questions." That voice said again. "Just do it."
Deciding he had nothing else to lose, Kitch nodded and began gathering the Force around him. Rather than view it as a suppressor, like he'd been doing, he began treating the planet of Termina as an amplifier, and suddenly everything became starkly clear.
He could sense Lor Kavar, too far away to see now, fighting both of her adversaries at once, her heart pounding and adrenaline spiking. He could sense every animal around him, and he could sense the girl standing right in front of him.
In the darkness that composed her Force presence he was startled to see something that never, as long as he could have lived, would he have expected to find in a Dark Lord (or Lady) of the Sith...beneath the turbulent darkness of her Force energy, he could sense light, a kindness no true Sith knew...
"You've not given yourself to the Dark Side fully, not yet." Kitch said, not even realizing what he was saying.
"I am the Dark Side." She growled, taking a step forward.
Kitch, however, opened himself up wider to the Force, allowing it to fully take him over; it was as though he was suddenly reading a biography on the girl before him.
"Your progress in this Sith society has been marred." He continued. "You commit random acts of kindness, small acts that barely even register with your dark masters."
"You-"
"You decide not to kill an opponent in combat here, or save a wounded animal there. You weren't always Sith; you weren't always ruled by darkness and evil."
"How do you know-"
Kitch decided not to answer that question, for the truth of the matter he didn't really know how he knew so much about an evil girl he'd just met, a girl almost ready to charge at him with an active lightsaber in her hands.
This newfound abilities scared the young apprentice beyond anything he'd ever experienced, even more so than his vision of that Zabrak Sith. However, remembering his Jedi training he quickly tried to calm himself, focusing on that calm center and allowed this fear to move through him so that it might be replaced by acceptance and understanding.
"That's how the Sith got to you." Kitch continued on, pressing his luck. "They kidnapped you when you were still an infant, and then they played on your fear that you had been too weak to defend yourself and family, fear that you'd lose those you loved, they made you hate them for kidnapping you, and then, once you gave in to the Dark Side of the Force, they promised you powers with which you'd never again be defenseless, that you'd never be so weak. They've got you good, but they've not conquered you, not yet."
"I'm a Sith-"
"And I'm still alive." Kitch countered, raising his hands to show he wasn't going for his own lightsaber; it had no place here, not now, not with this young. "I know you're down there, E-"
She suddenly charged, screaming a furious curse as she began crazily chopping and slashing at him, but even now, with his life mere centimeters from ending, he did not go for his lightsaber.
Kitch jumped back, ignoring a devastating thrust that had almost intercepted his abdomen, and dodging even more attacks he began to laugh.
"Your training has been shoddy: I've seen younglings with better saber skills than you've got-"
Another primal scream erupted from the girl and once more forks of lightning escaped her fingers, and knowing from his studies how dangerous an attack this was, he finally brought his lightsaber up to guard, igniting the green blade with that familiar snap-hiss.
The electricity crackled and wrapped around his blade, and as the girl upped her power the blade began pushing back towards him, and in response he began pushing forward on his weapon, willing it to repel the Sith attack.
The girl almost immediately let up on her attack, realizing she was expending too much power for so little results. She instead charged forward, her movements suddenly much more precise and effective; she was expending little energy while he was having to fight just to defend himself.
"I recognize the style." Kitch said, now being pushed away from the enclave ruins and towards the edge of a massive cliff. "Makashi, Form Two of lightsaber combat. Impressive for one your age, but you still have much to learn before you'd be considered a master of the Second Form, or even proficient in its use."
A sudden overhead chop forced Kitch to bring his lightsaber up once more, this time over his head, catching the crimson bar of plasma a mere inch from his skull.
"I WILL KILL YOU!" She roared, and suddenly she launched into a furious attack more powerful than it had been before, and Kitch was suddenly aware of her drawing heavily on the Force, funneling it through her arms and corrupting it as it fueled her attacks; she'd also been studying the Seventh Form, Vaapad, originally known as Juyo.
Kitch, having only received basic lightsaber instructions, was forced to retreat, no longer parrying or blocking his attacks but instead simply dodging them; there was no chance, he knew, that he could match the girl in a pure lightsaber duel. This, he could see, would be the quickest path to his death.
After several minutes of combat, minutes spent in silence as the young Jedi desperately fought for his life, Kitch now stood on the edge of a high cliff that stood tall and proud over a jungle below, a small river flowing angrily through it. He tried desperately to connect with the Force, to mind his training as Lor Kavar had taught him, but this Sith's attacks were so furious and so powerful that he couldn't concentrate long enough to think; he wasn't being given the opening he deserved.
She brought her blade under and up, slashing at his thighs, and to match her attack Kitch brought his blade down, green meeting red in a shower of angry sparks. However, she retracted her blade impossibly fast, and sensing her sudden opportunity she thrust forward, and in sheer desperation Kitch jumped to the side, and what would have been a deadly stab turned instead into a painful graze that burned the fabric of his Jedi robes.
The girl, however, was on the move, bringing her blade in towards him in a horizontal right-to-left cut, and realizing too late the danger he was in, Kitch moved his blade accordingly.
One second. One mere second in time; this was all it took to change the outcome of this battle. One second too late, and the crimson blade was easily slicing through the metal and wires that made up the hilt of his training saber, leaving him defenseless, vulnerable to the Sith Lady's attack.
Laughing as she savored her victory the girl shut off her lightsaber and hooked it back to her belt, and before Kitch knew what was going on he felt an invisible, powerful fist closing around his throat as he was lifted into the air; breathing was suddenly impossible.
"Now you will experience the full power of the Dark Side of the Force!" She demanded, and for a third time the lightning escaped her fingers. This time, however, the was no lightsaber in front of him to block the attack, no Jedi Knight to defend him, and explosively the electricity was tearing through him, causing him to scream in agony as he felt it burn away at his skin and organs.
His screams, however, quickly became gargled as she tightened her grip around his throat, and he could feel his body begin to shut down from the amount of damage it was taking.
"And now." She said moments later, Kitch so weak and so near unconsciousness that he only just heard her words. "You will die."
Through his blurred vision he saw her go for her utility belt, and three seconds later he felt a prick in his neck...his body's systems began shutting down one at a time, unable to fight the effects of the poison now in his body.
A powerful wind then whipped up around him, and with a final burst of Force Lightning he was thrown over the edge of the cliff and began the free-fall to his fate. Closing his eyes the young apprentice, a Jedi to the end, accepted his fate, repeating the Jedi Code to himself one final time as the ground rushed up towards him, his body too weak for his voice to even be heard, forcing him to recite the words in a dying silence.
There is no Emotion, there is only Peace. There is no Ignorance, there is only Knowledge. There is no Passion, there is only Serenity. There is no Chaos, there is only Harmony. There is no Death, there is only the Force.
And with the resulting impact, his entire universe shattered away.
Lor Kavar somersaulted over the pair of attacking Sith, and even as they turned she was launching a heavy push fueled by the Force, an attack that sent the female Sith flying through the dense forest air and away from the fight, leaving the young Jedi Knight alone with her male attacker.
He brought his crimson blade down towards her head, but Lor expertly caught the attack by forming her twin blades in an 'X' style and holding them high above her. The moment his crimson clashed with her silver she flicked her wrists, snapping his lightsaber over and out of his hands. Lor charged forward, then, jumping up and kicking the man in his dark-skinned face, and even as he stumbled back she was lashing out with her right foot, catching him in the chest with a kick that sent him careening to the ground.
Before she could finish him off, however, she felt a sudden surge of warning, a nudge through the Force that told her what was coming her way: Lor spun around and brought the silver blade in her hand up just in time to catch the second crimson blade, this in the hands of the female Sith.
"Not bad." The woman admitted. "For a Jedi."
In response Lor powered her way free of the saber-lock, using her strength, fueled by the Force, to push the woman back and away from her.
Snap-hiss.
Lor knew immediately that her male foe was back on his feet and coming at her once more, and knew all too well the danger this put her in. As if on cue, the pair struck together, forcing Lor to use each of her blades for defense, each blade catching one Sith weapon before it could strike home. Lor Kavar, however, was not intimidated: after all, she'd trained for hundreds of hours with Mace Windu, arguably the greatest swordsman in the galaxy, and with that training now coming into play, she knew exactly what to do.
She retracted both blades while at the same time jumping back so that she was no longer between the two dark warriors, and while they continued to attack in unison she was now a blur of motion.
She could now see the one or two seconds after his attack and before hers, and with that knowledge she brought her right blade up, caught his attack, and twisted it around and back up just in time to catch hers; two Sith with one lightsaber.
Before either Sith realized the danger they were in her second lightsaber was coming up and under, thrusting at the man's groin, forcing him to shut his lightsaber off and somersault to safety, a move Lor had predicted. Even as she blocked another powerful strike from the female warrior Lor was reaching out in the Force and sending a heavy, sturdy boulder sailing through the air.
She now turned her attention to the lone warrior. This woman was good, Lor forced herself to admit. Her movements were straightforward and precise; she used only the bare minimal amount of energy her movements needed. She followed a single line, front and back, her feet shifting to keep her constantly in perfect balance as she retreated and then came on suddenly with devastating thrusts that had Lor stumbling backward. This woman, Lor realized, was a fencer: she'd mastered the largely forgotten art of Makashi.
An overhead attack cut down at Lor, and this, she decided, was where history must repeat itself. Like she'd done minutes before with the woman's partner, Lor brought her silver blades up in an 'X' above her head, and once the blades had met she flicked her wrists, snapping the woman's blade from her hand and sending it crashing to the ground; a follow up push from the Force and the woman was flying away from her.
Realizing both combatants were down Lor turned and, not bothering to extinguish her blades, took off running, desperate to reunite with Kitch Surik and make sure he hadn't met disaster in dealing with the third (and youngest) of the Sith trio.
A dark blur suddenly blew by her, however, and instantly Lor was screeching to a halt, stopping before the male Sith.
"This isn't over yet." He said as his blade ignited once more. Lor, however, did not give him a chance to attack. She leapt forward, somersaulting through the air, and as she landed behind him he spun around, bring his defenses up as Lor began raining down a furious barrage of blows upon him.
With a burst of Force energy, he sent her back, giving up just enough of an opening to allow him to charge forward, attacking furiously now, and in response Lor threw herself to the ground. Not realizing the tactic until it was too late the Sith Lord made to step over her fallen form, and seizing her chance once more Lor brought her left blade around, cutting through flesh, meat, bone, meat, and flesh again as she amputated his legs just under the kneecaps.
As the man screamed in pain, Lor jumped to her feet, her lightsabers now down at her sides, and all too easily she grabbed the man with a force hold, and moving to end the duel Lor pulled him towards her. Her two blades cut upwards, cutting through both of his arms, and continuing in their trek the two blades then sliced through his neck, meeting in the middle with an angry hiss of sparks as his head fell off and rolled along the ground.
"NO!" A woman shouted, and spinning around Lor surged forward, meeting the newest attack. The two women stood toe-to-toe, double silver and single red dancing together to form a deadly, exotically beautiful dance of plasma energy, an act unlike any the galaxy had ever seen.
Slowly, painfully, Lor began pushing the woman back, and for the next five minutes it appeared as though the Jedi would win. However, just as Lor was preparing to execute a series of lethal cuts, she felt something in the Force, something she'd never felt before. Her entire body froze and her breath caught deep below her chest as she felt a presence in the Force, something akin to a star, flicker briefly before exploding and winking out of existence.
The presence, she knew, was Kitch Surik. Where he'd been nothing in her mind a second ago he was now all she could sense, the spot where his star had, mere moments ago, been burning brightly and proudly now consumed by a terrible, life-sucking black hole.
"Kitch." Lor gasped, falling to her knees as both of her lightsabers shut off. "Kitch, no, it can't be, you can't d-die on me, n-not now."
However, deep down, Lor Kavar knew what she'd felt; Kitch Surik, Jedi Apprentice and unofficial child protégé of the Jedi Archives, was dead.
"You sense it as well." The woman before her sneered. "And another Jedi bites the dust."
Lor looked up, anger surging through her body, but all she noticed was a small, venomous dart vectoring in towards her neck, and a nanosecond later she felt the prick as the tip pierced her skin and injected its contents...Lor Kavar's world went dark as she fell to the ground.
[Two standard hours later]
Arianna, Waylon, Hawya, and Duran had spent nearly a full hour searching the Jedi ruins and surrounding area for any signs of the Republic forces that had been aboard the downed cruiser, but so far they'd had no luck, and now, Arianna knew, it was time for them to move on. However, as she was preparing to give the order the loud sound of a bellowing Wookie cut her off.
"What is it, Hawya?" She asked as she, her husband, and their newest ally raced towards the cliff edge where the Wookie was standing, her hand held out.
She was, Arianna realized as she approached the female Wookie, holding the charred remains of a lightsaber, a lightsaber that had been built (and used) very recently.
"It's a training saber from the Jedi Temple." Duran declared upon seeing the remains of the weapon as he, too, joined the growing group. "I recognize what's left of the design."
"A Jedi apprentice, here, on Termina?" Arianna asked, studying the weapon carefully.
"And with no Master." Waylon added. "Very strange, very strange indeed-"
"Look!" Duran shouted, and without waiting he jumped off of the cliff, and not thinking Arianna immediately followed suit, mimicking Duran and gathering the Force around her to soften her landing.
"What'd you see, Duran?" She asked, running behind the young Jedi. Before he could answer, however, she noticed what had caught his attention: it was a body, a fresh one too, of a boy, only ten or eleven years old, his body face-down in the Terminian dirt.
As Arianna bent down to inspect the body she noticed that the blood vessels, tinted a pale green color, had engorged themselves and were close to the surface.
"He was poisoned." She declared, moving to feel for a pulse. When she looked up at her three fellows, however, she nodded her head. "He's gone."
She moved, then, to roll the boy over onto his back, to perhaps see if they could find any other signs as to what had happened to him. Instead, however, the expelled Jedi found herself staring down at a young boy with a head that had mixed her hair with her husband's face. As the grief began to well up inside of her, Arianna's blood went cold as her heart froze into a block of sheer ice.
"I know him!" Duran shouted immediately, now standing directly over Arianna.
"You do?" She asked, praying to the Force that, somehow, this wasn't who she knew it was.
"His name's Kitch-"
Arianna felt her heart shatter as her blood evaporated from its cold state. "Kitch?" She asked, forcing herself to sound casual. Duran nodded his head.
"Kitch Surik; he's an apprentice at the Temple. The boy's a bookworm who reads more than he trains. No Jedi Knight in his right mind would take a weak Archive rat like him on as a Padawan; what's he doing out here?"
She forced herself, now, to move forward, finding little comfort in knowing that, like his mother, her son had found his place in the Jedi Archives.
"Collect his body, Hawya, if you will." She ordered, climbing to her feet before making her way towards her husband. "The least we can do for him is give him the proper Jedi burial, rather than leave him out for the local wildlife."
Looking up into Waylon's eyes, she found he, too, was just barely holding back the grief, but there was something else there, something that allowed her to draw some comfort from her son's untimely demise. He'd answered the call of duty as any Jedi should, and, based on the charred remains of the lightsaber Hawya had discovered, he'd not gone down quietly. She would honor that sacrifice, no matter how much it might hurt her to bury her first child. She would make sure he was given the proper honors; it was the least she could do, after all, the smallest gift the mother could give to the son she'd abandoned to the Jedi.
*gasps* I killed Kitch off! The main character of my story and I sent him spiralling helplessly to his death! By the Force, what have I done?! This is wrong, so very wrong! People are going to be in an uproar, demanding my head on a platter! The masses are going to scream for my blood!
So, what'd you guys think? It looks like the puzzle's starting to come together now, doesn't it? Trust me, this is just barely the beginning. Let me know what ya thought, and in the meantime, stay tuned...