Chapter Ten
"This was such a stupid idea…" Syrosk rasped with his head hung low, furiously rubbing his brow.
The elder Executor stood in his personal quarters, joined by his new charges as well as the unconscious Jedi. The young girl sat limp in a chair, still wrapped below the neck in a black bedsheet whilst the four Sith hovered around her.
"What were you thinking? Bringing a Jedi here…" Syrosk growled, struggling to keep his emotions contained. "Do you have any idea the trouble this could cause? For you? For me?"
"I take it this would be a bad time to discuss renovations for the ship?" Asher asked, the gravity his superior possessed utterly absent from his voice.
"Yes, it would very much be a bad time," Syrosk replied. "What part of your mission entailed taking a Jedi prisoner?"
"She's not a prisoner," Fay plainly stated. "She wanted to join us."
Syrosk snapped toward the tall woman. "And she's unconscious because?"
"She passed out when we touched down," Graves explained. "Kaas probably overwhelmed her."
A low grumble slipped past the alien's lips. "Never should have brought her here. Why didn't you contact me before bringing her planetside?"
"You said the comm was only for emergencies," said Fay.
"You wouldn't consider this an emergency?" Syrosk replied, raising his voice to a level previously unheard of by the younger Sith.
"See? Told you," Asher whispered.
The elder Executor narrowed his already sharpened gaze toward the burned Sith. "You're all equally responsible for this!"
"Did I give the impression I wasn't taking responsibility?" Fay bluntly asked alongside the arch of her brow. "She wanted to defect, so I brought her here. I thought if anyone could help her, it'd be you."
"Even if I could, you don't just smuggle an outsider onto the Empire's capital!" Syrosk declared. "And you definitely don't walk a Jedi through the streets of Kaas City!"
"We wrapped her in a bedsheet, what more do you want from us?" Asher muttered.
"You honestly think no one saw you?" asked Syrosk. "What would you have said if someone stopped you?"
"We were 'escorting' our friend, a newly promoted Sith Lord, home after a night of 'celebration' at the local cantina," Fay calmly explained. The alien continued to rub his brow as he released another wordless grunt beneath his breath.
"If it makes you feel any better, the mission itself went pretty well," Graves spoke up. "Confirmed the lack of schematics and took out the pirates."
"The mission… was to be a test of cohesion," Syrosk stated, slowly regaining his composure. "With your skills, it was never a question of whether you'd succeed, but whether you were capable of cooperating."
"Considering we came back with an extra teammate, I'd say we're the best at cooperating," Asher bragged.
"An extra teammate? Is that what you think will happen?" Syrosk asked, suitably baffled.
"You recruit Executors, right? Well, she's a recruit," said Fay. "I don't see the problem, Jedi have defected before."
"They are put through the proper channels first," Syrosk replied. "Given oversight. Made sure they're not spies or infiltrators."
"The Dark Councilor for Logistics is your friend. I assumed you were the proper channel," Fay admitted.
"He's not my friend, he's my boss," Syrosk clarified, forcing an extra helping of grit into his words. "I hope that does not change after all this."
"Look, this was the best course of action," Fay firmly stated. "She boarded the pirates' freighter with two other Jedi. We could have killed them all, maybe causing an international incident in the process. Or we could have brought one of them over to our side."
"And these other Jedi, what became of them?" asked Syrosk.
"They're still alive," Graves quickly replied.
"And they just let you take one of their own?"
"Well, there wasn't much they could do about it," said Asher, brimming with confidence. "We could have beaten them even if they weren't down a member. "
Syrosk's eyes almost glazed over. "So you met a group of Jedi and, over the course of a single conversation, convinced one of them to abandon her home, to leave her entire life behind, to become a Sith?"
"From the way the others talked to her, it didn't seem like she had much of a home amongst the Jedi," Fay explained.
"I believe the word 'eccentricities' was used," Asher added.
"I promised her a new home," Fay continued. "She accepted. She knows what's expected of her."
"Does she?" asked Syrosk. "Inquisitors are going to want every scrap of information she possesses."
"Why? The war is over," Graves replied.
"For some, it'll never be over," said Syrosk. "If she knows something, others will want to know as well."
"What are they going to ask her, the location of the Jedi's nonexistent home?" Asher snarked.
"She's a Padawan, I doubt she knows any secrets," Fay stated.
Syrosk released a raspy sigh. "That's not for me to decide."
"Isn't it? You're in charge here after all," said Fay.
"What would you have me do?" asked Syrosk.
"Maybe take her as an apprentice."
"Assuming she survived the Academy, I still couldn't," Syrosk stated. "I already have three Sith that require all of my time and effort, if you haven't quite yet noticed."
Fay shrugged. "Then let her join our group. Make her Executor Six or whatever."
"You three were put together for a reason," Syrosk replied. "I cannot willingly change your group's dynamic."
"And what if I were to quit? Would that change our dynamic?" Fay asked, a tangible bite to her delivery.
Syrosk visibly recoiled. "And you'd be willing to do that for some Jedi you've just met?"
"I was willing to fight alongside Sith I'd just met," Fay stated. "Don't see why not."
"Why? What do you find so special about this girl?" Syrosk asked.
"I've spent most of my life surrounded by zealots, of both the Jedi and Sith variety, and it's grown somewhat tiresome," Fay declared. "You, you seem alright. These two guys, they seem alright. But let's face it, we're in the minority. If there's someone fit for this group, it's her. She's strong. She belongs with us."
Syrosk drew and released a deep breath before turning his horned head toward the other two Sith. "And you think this as well?"
"Well…" Asher muttered, scratching the back of his head.
"Sure," Graves plainly said. "Better she be with us than back with the Republic. And she seems capable enough."
"You call that capable?" Asher asked, jutting his thumb toward the slumped Jedi.
"She'll get used to Kaas eventually," Fay stated.
The burned Sith released a sigh. "Then… I don't know… I guess? Allies we can trust aren't exactly abundant."
"Can we trust her though?" asked Syrosk. "How do we know this isn't a trick?"
Asher leaned in close to the young Jedi's unmoving body. "That's a pretty good trick."
"We can trust her," Fay declared, utterly confident.
"You'll understand if I don't take you at your word," Syrosk muttered, moving himself closer to the unconscious Jedi. Gripping the young girl's chin with his rough hand, the alien began softly rotating her head back and forth as he cast his discerning gaze upon her soft face. Carefully, he straightened her posture in the seat as well as he could, before holding his hands to either side of the Jedi's head.
"What are you doing?" asked Fay.
"Taking a look at her thoughts," Syrosk replied, maintaining his focus on the girl. "Someone's going to have to dig through her mind, might as well be the one telepath in the Empire with an ounce of finesse."
Fay bounced her gaze between her superior and the unconscious Jedi. "This won't hurt her, will it?"
"Not if I can help it."
"So, this means we're helping her?" Fay asked.
Syrosk released a low sigh. "I can see about getting her into one of the Academies. Beyond that, there's not much else I can do. But before I do anything, I'm going to make sure she's not a threat to us. Now, if you would please give me some space… and some silence."
The other Sith complied, taking a few steps back. Within the compact chamber of the alien's home, Asher, Fay, and Graves pressed themselves against the nearby walls as their boss calmed himself and closed his eyes. Under the younger Sith's gazes, the two figures appeared frozen, neither acting in the slightest. Not even through the Force could much be gleaned from the exchange. Everything that was occurring was known to Syrosk and Syrosk alone.
"This… this can't be right," Syrosk muttered, maintaining his hold on the girl's head.
"What is it?" Fay spoke up.
"Never in my life have I seen such a guarded mind," Syrosk admitted.
"You seen many Jedi's?" Asher asked. "Maybe theirs work differently from ours."
"Any mind can be defended from intrusions, but something like this would require decades of training and a conscious effort to maintain," Syrosk explained.
"Maybe she's just naturally gifted," Graves suggested.
The room seemed frozen in a moment of time. The five figures were stilled, three closely observing the unfolding scene, two sharing a mental and physical link. As Syrosk failed to even scratch the surface of the Jedi's mind, he did not notice the young girl's eyes shooting open.
In an instant, the robed alien found himself flung back, crashing into the nearby wall with tremendous force. The entire chamber shook as a wave of kinetic energy washed over the occupants, upsetting the other Sith's stalwart balance. The young Jedi's hands tightly gripped the arms of her chair as she hastily scanned the room.
Across from the Jedi, Syrosk lay slumped at the bottom of the wall. Beside him, Asher struggled to regain a proper footing. "What the hell was-"
Before he could finish his thought, the Jedi had pushed herself up and out of the chair, flinging off the black bedsheet whilst simultaneously flinging herself across the chamber. Ending the hooded Sith's sentence was the young girl's balled fist slamming itself into Asher's nose. The burned Sith stumbled backward, clutching at his injury as blood began to pour from his nostrils. Graves was closest to the Jedi, but before he could even react, she was on the move. Darting for the door, she had almost made her escape when the towering woman interceded. Maneuvering behind the fleeing Jedi, Fay reached out and wrapped her arms around the young girl's shoulders. In an instant, the tall woman lifted the girl's insignificant weight, halting her escape. The Jedi's legs lashed out and kicked as they dangled, but Fay maintained her grip, trapping the girl between her arms and chest.
The young girl struggled to break free, but had no hope of surpassing her captor's strength. Wriggling and writhing, the girl began to release disoriented screams and shouts.
"What is this?" the Jedi barked. "Where am I? Who are you people?"
The young girl continued to offer nondescript growls and grunts as the others picked themselves off the floor.
The alien patted himself down as a snarl crept across his face. "Not a threat, you say?"
"Maybe Kaas had a bigger effect on her than we thought," said Graves, still utterly calm.
"This wasn't Kaas' doing," Syrosk declared.
"Then what was it?" asked Asher, voice sniveling and nasally as he gripped his injured nose.
"Let me go!" the Jedi shouted. "You're Sith, aren't you? Don't think you can keep me here!"
"Calm down," said Fay, still maintaining her grip. "You wanted to be here. We're trying to help you."
"Like a Sith would ever help anyone!" the Jedi barked.
"Well, she's obviously lost her mind," said Asher, the bandages wrapping his face stained with a red flow. "She was much nicer aboard the freighter."
Arms still clamped around the Jedi, Fay shot a harsh glare toward her boss. "What did you do, Syrosk?"
"This wasn't my doing either," Syrosk rasped.
"She's like a completely different person," said Graves.
Reaffirming her grip, Fay tilted her head as the young girl continued trying to break free. "What's your name, Jedi?"
"Mina," the Jedi shouted.
Maintaining her hold with one arm, the Kineticist pulled the other one away, balling its hand into a fist. Fay delivered a quick knock to the side of the girl's head and her thrashing came to an abrupt end. Holding the once-more unconscious body of the Jedi, the other Sith looked to one another with confused stares.
Asher, Fay, and Graves shared quick glances, each unsure of what to say or do.
Deep within the heart of Republic space, floating weightlessly upon the astral sea, was the Enduring Light. A Valor-class cruiser, the large capital ship was surrounded by an array of support vessels and currently served as one of the interim homes for the Jedi Order. Without a temple or world to call their own, the fragmented group was forced to adopt temporary shelter even months after the war's end.
Within the grand corridors and chambers of the capital ship, the Jedi onboard struggled to replicate their lost temple. Masters trained and instructed their students surrounded by the sterile white environment of the military vessel, forced to live out of the various hangars and barracks. Though the galaxy was at peace, the Jedi were not. The Order was not of one mind, countless mentalities plaguing the Jedi in the months following the war's end. Some thought accepting the treaty a necessary evil, others opposed its stringent concessions. With many of their best and brightest lost to the Sith Empire, the Order's voice was scattered. There was little to guide them in their darkest hour, but all they could hope to do was persist.
Gathered in one of the capital ship's mess halls, a number of figures garbed in conservative robes were receiving their day's ration of food. Sitting across from each other at a folding table, two elder Jedi conversed amidst the soft rabble of their congregating fellows.
"Not much to these meals," one of the men muttered with a low drawl. The Jedi was wrinkled and bald of head, a Human in his later years. Staring at his food with heavy eyes, he offered the occasional prod and poke with his utensil.
"Food is food, Verdon," the other plainly replied. The other Human's head was topped with short, graying hair, and though he was aged, he still had a few decades before matching the man across from him. The roughness worn on his face was born from battle rather than an excess of wrinkles.
"Direct as always, Kyros," Verdon offered with a chortle.
"Someone around here has to be," Kyros replied. "People are far too content to sit around and do nothing. If only the war hadn't taken Master Joren from us."
"There's little we can do without a proper home," Verdon stated. "Be patient. Master Shan will come through. She has the Force guiding her."
"Meanwhile, the rest of us go without guidance," Kyros declared.
"We are never without guidance, Kyros. Whether we realize it or not."
"I don't know about you, but the Force has been frightfully silent in our time of need. It doesn't tell us where to go or what to do. Those decisions fall to us, but apparently we lack the resolve to make said decisions."
"In due time," Verdon calmly added. "Answers will come. We just need to be patient."
"Patience does not necessitate inaction," Kyros muttered. Interrupting the pair's conversation was a muffled electronic ringing beneath the younger Jedi's robes. Reaching beneath his coat, Kyros returned with a small holocommunicator in his hand. The silver device flashed and the grainy image of two men appeared. "Leron. Jaruss. How goes your investigation?"
"Master, I'm afraid we have grave news," Leron said, a forced calmness in his voice.
"What's the matter?" Kyros asked, possessing a stoicism far beyond that of the Padawan. "Where is Nami?"
Leron dipped his head. "That's the thing, master. I'm afraid we lost her."
"She's dead?" asked Kyros, maintaining his calm.
"No. When we arrived, the pirates were already dead at the hands of Sith. We tried to block their escape but… the Sith manipulated her, turned her against us," Leron explained.
"We tried to stop her, master," Jaruss added. "We did everything in our power to convince her not to go, but the Sith's hold was too great. We couldn't risk hurting her, and with her condition…"
"I understand, my students," Kyros stated. "You did as much as could be expected of you. Are you two safe, at least?"
"Yes, sir," Leron replied. "We're on our way back now."
"Very well. We can discuss our options when you return." The two Jedi on the other end of the device offered the dutiful bows of their heads and the communications ceased. As the holographic images faded, Kyros released a low sigh as he returned the communicator to his robes.
"You don't seem that upset," said Verdon.
"Any loss to the Sith is regrettable, but this one could have been avoided," Kyros bluntly stated.
"We cannot foresee, nor prevent, every loss."
"We could have prevented this one," Kyros declared. "She never should have been let into the Order to begin with. She was a danger to herself and those around her. Only her master was capable of keeping her in check, and without him, she's unstable. Never should have agreed to pick up her training."
"I know I said we're never without guidance, but that doesn't mean we can just discard Padawans that don't turn out perfect," Verdon scolded.
"You don't know this girl, Verdon. Some people are lost causes," Kyros declared. "But it matters not. She's not our problem anymore."
The elder Jedi was taken aback, stewing in silence as the younger man lifted himself from his seat. Kyros straightened out his thick robes, leaving Verdon alone without a second glance. As he left without another word, the tail of his heavy coat bounced along each step, the long hilt of his double-bladed lightsaber dangling from his belt.