Part 9- Echoes of the Jedi
Alek waited for her on the other side of the bridge from the Jedi Enclave. His crimson robes, thick black hair, and tall stature were unmistakable even in the growing dimness of the evening. Beside him stood the coppery-maned Cathar Jedi Ferroh, already chatting with him.
"You came back," Bryony marveled as she drew nearer to them, "I didn't think you would, after the send-off the Jedi masters gave you, when you and Revan first left for war with the other Revanchists."
"Master Vrook sent a messenger making it very clear that I wasn't welcome at the enclave as soon as I landed, but that won't stop me from standing here and waiting for recruits to come to me—Jedi that know protecting the Republic against the Mandalorians is the right thing to do," Alex replied proudly, "If Vrook knew when I landed, pretty soon the whole enclave will know I am here, and why."
"You're recruiting for the war?" Bryony gaped, "Against the will of the Jedi Council?"
Alek nodded grimly, "Ferroh here has already agreed to join. We need as many Jedi as we can get, if we are to save the Outer Rim and the Republic from invasion and annihilation."
"Why here? You know there aren't many full Jedi knights on Dantooine, compared to Coruscant," Bryony asked, "Not that I'm not glad to see you."
"I've already been to Coruscant. Nearly thirty Jedi are already on their way to the fleet," Alek replied, pleased with himself, "Including Master Arren Kae."
"Roan'ev's Master," Bryony marveled.
Alek nodded, smiling, then added, "And, I heard you've been knighted."
"Last month," Bryony replied. She ran her fingers through her hair where her thin padawan used to hang, just behind her left ear.
"Roan'ev—I guess, it's Revan now," Alek started seriously, "Anyway, Revan and I want you at the front with us, Bryony. You've fought Mandalorians in the Outer Rim before, with Master Kavar. You know how it is. And you have that keen sense of people around you. We could use you. No, we need you, Bryony. I don't know any other Jedi that has that natural connection to other people through the Force that you do. We don't just need warriors, we need leaders, and I've seen how other Jedi have always followed you, even those much more senior. Revan has the strategy and charisma, but you have that magnetic leadership that will bring us all together, if you came."
Bryony's chest swelled with pride at hearing Alek's praise. He was a close friend, but he had also been a role model as she grew up. He was passionate, daring, and always stood up for what he believed in. On the other hand, she did not want to go against the Jedi Council, especially not her former master, Kavar. She hesitated, "The Jedi Council has—"
"Has been blinded by their feeling of safety on Coruscant and has completely lost its connection to life on the Outer Rim," Alek cut in, fists clenched, "Bryony, fifteen years ago the Mandalorians attacked my home planet. Millions of people died. I never saw my family again—they probably didn't survive. All because of the Mandalorians' lust for conquest and killing. The Republic didn't do anything to help then, but now that they are mobilized to meet the Mandalorians, I won't sit and wait for another Quelil to happen. I won't let other children die for no reason, not like my little sisters, not when I can do something to stop it. The Mandalorians must be stopped. They have been ravaging the galaxy for more than two decades, and the only negotiations they know are conflict and dominance. Without the Jedi, the Republic will fail. Revan has shown me this. Deep down, all the Jedi know this. You know it. That's why you and Kavar were on the Outer Rim in the first place."
Bryony nodded slowly. She thought of the needless deaths on Solince III and other planets, and the terror and painful mourning of all of those that did survive. She thought of Master Kavar's anguished decision as he was called back to Coruscant. Just before she was knighted, she had watched his resolve gradually resolve after many long day of debate in the High Council chamber. Although, in the end, he acquiesced to the opinion of the majority in the Council, Bryony watched a weight grow heavier on his shoulders. He was a warrior forced to sit and wait for peace. Watching her master so burdened, Bryony knew she could not stay on Coruscant. That was why she volunteered to return to Dantooine to help teach the apprentices and younglings.
"The Mandalorians need to be stopped," Alek pleaded boldly with her, "You know that better than most. And we need you, Bryony."
Her mind returned to the news she had just been reading when she had heard that Alek was back. Millions had been slaughtered on Toola, at the hands of the Mandalorians. As she read, she had wanted desperately to be able to do something, feeling the same burden of inaction weighing her down. Those deaths felt like her fault while she ignored the problem. Alek had come as an answer to her deepest wish: to do something to save lives on the Outer Rim. She looked up and met Alek's blue eyes. "You're right," Bryony said heavily, "They need to be stopped. I'll go, and I'll do whatever I can to save the Outer Rim. Those people deserve better than abandonment by the Jedi Order."
Alek cracked a light smile in relief. "I'm glad you've come around," he said, "I was worried you wouldn't. You're almost as much of a stickler for rules as Atris is—did you hear she's already being considered for Master rank and the Jedi Council?"
"Her research on the ancient Jedi, recovering lost artifacts and knowledge, it's really remarkable," Bryony said, and she meant it. She admired Atris' work, though she felt much more comfortable out under the sky than cooped up in the archives.
"I guess that's what you get for following the rules to perfection," Alek rolled his eyes, "She always was perfect. But I'd rather save the galaxy than get fancy titles and rewards. People are counting on us."
"So, when do we leave?" Bryony asked.
"I only have a few hours, if we're to make the rendezvous with the fleet in time," Alek admitted. "You'll want to get your things."
Bryony nodded, "And I'll let others know that you're here. There may be a few more that would be willing to join the Revanchists."
Alek cracked a warm smile again, "I knew I could count on you Bry."
Bryony jolted awake to the sound of boots thumping in the grass and unfamiliar voices. It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the flickering firelight and the moonless night under twinkling stars above. She reoriented herself. She was, indeed just across the creek from the Jedi Enclave, but Alek was not there with her. He was gone—dead in the war. And the Enclave lay in ruins because Alek himself had attacked it. That reality did not sit well with her. Yes, she had seen both Revan and Alek—calling himself Malak—drift into more and more gray moral decisions over the course of the war, but she could have never imagined Alek would perpetrate destruction and massacre of this scale. She shuddered at her own memories that were at odds with reality and sat up from where she had slept in the grass.
A group of four scavengers hurried back into camp, panting. A well-armed woman was followed by three men that held blasters like untrained farmers, straggling behind. "Damn lagreks!" the woman cursed loudly.
"What happened?" asked the scavenger that had been on watch, from his perch on a crate at the edge of camp.
"We didn't get far in the sub-level, but we did find a good haul, and then as soon as the sun went down, there were lagreks swarming everywhere!" the coarse sounding woman related, "But, sodding Jorran didn't make it out, and he had the backpack."
"All that for nothing," one of the scavengers that had been with her moaned.
"Aren't you going back in there for your friend?" Atton asked. He had been standing first watch with the other scavenger when Bryony had gone to sleep.
"Pff," the woman shrugged, "He's no friend, just some other scavenger scum like the rest of us that agreed to go down to the sub-level with me. I'm not risking my neck for that idiot. We just barely made it out at all. The lagreks won't calm down until the sun rises, and there's no way he'll last until morning."
Bryony stood. Even then, she felt the echoing call of the Jedi enclave through the first, "We'll get him out."
"Who are you?" the woman spat, "Some kind of crazy mercenary? You don't look like one."
"Crazy is right," Atton warned, "You actually want to go into that nest after dark?"
"If he's still alive, we can get him out," Bryony repeated.
"I don't know why you'd do that for a stranger, unless you want his loot," the woman replied, shaking her head, "But if you pull is arse out of there in the middle of the night, I guess you deserve it—some of it."
Nearby, Bryony saw both Bao-Dur and Handmaiden sitting up in the grass and taking in the situation. Turning to them, she said, "There's a salvager trapped in the ruins. We need to get him out before the lagreks get him."
Stiffly standing, Bao-Dur smiled lightly, "Things are never boring with you. Let's go get him."
"I'm right behind you," Handmaiden reassured her, standing up and brushing off her white pants and shirt.
Sliding off his crate, Atton shook his head, "I don't know why I am agreeing to this."
"You could stay back at camp," Bryony offered.
He shook his head again, "Nah. I'm coming with you."
"I don't know who you four newcomers are," the woman said, "But you're crazy to go in there at night, just for one idiot lackey."
"Just a war veteran who still hates to leave a man behind," Bryony replied softly. She had left far too many men behind in her day.
The woman and the other scavengers that were still awake stared at her. The woman nodded grimly and said, "That is something I can respect. We all keep living a bit of the war every day. If that's what you've got to do, it's what you've got to do. I hope Jorran realizes he doesn't deserve it."
One of the men that had been with her dug into his back pocket and said, "Listen, if you're going back in for that good-for-nothing kath-licker, take my light. You'll need it." He stepped forward and handed Bryony a small light attached to an elastene headband.
"Mine too," one of the other men said, pulling out a similar head light and passing it to Bao-Dur, while carefully avoiding the Zabrak's glowing left arm.
Soon, both Handmaiden and Atton had head lamps thrust at them.
"Thanks," Atton stammered.
Knowing that they could not waste any more time if the scavenger was to survive the predators on the sub-level, Bryony gestured to her companions, "Let's get going."
The Last of the Handmaidens took up the rear behind Bryony, Atton, and Bao-Dur as they entered the dark basement of the ruins of the Jedi Enclave. Inside, without the stars overhead, shadows played at every corner, and the sounds of hissing and scratching echoed from the corridors in all directions, from indistinct locations. The head-lamps that the scavengers had lent them cast surprisingly broad beams of light, given their size, but as with all directional lights, they left much hidden in dark corners.
Inside, the destruction was even more pronounced than it had appeared from the outside. Perhaps it was the emptiness, but to see the hallowed halls of the Jedi crumbling, home only to vermin and irreverent scavengers, she was more glad than ever that Atris had managed to save as many of the artifacts from Dantooine has she had before the enclave's destruction. Seeing the destruction first hand, she understood her mistress' pain at the loss of the Jedi and their knowledge. So much had been lost here, and this was just one of the Jedi's smallest enclaves.
Watching and listening for threats with her force pike drawn, Handmaiden noticed an intensification in Bryony's odd postures and twitches that had been growing since they landed on the planet. She seemed distracted and pained, all at once, as if it was more than just her own memories of this place and her grief at its destruction that haunted her. It was utterly unlike the focus she saw in Bryony on Telos IV and while aboard the Ebon Hawk. Certainly, the dark was disorienting and this place did feel wrong somehow, but it had to be something else, in the Force. She wondered what this place felt like to someone sensitive in the Force like Bryony or Atris. Did the Force feel grief or pain?
Bryony led them slowly through the darkness, down a ramp and into a crumbling garden where starlight filtered in through the ruined ceiling above. She paused frequently, almost every step, closing her eyes and listening—only it was something more than just listening. The Last of the Handmaidens recognized it as a gesture Atris often made when reaching out and searching through the Force, beyond what could be sensed by mere warriors like herself.
"Do you sense where he is?" Bao-Dur asked quietly. Clearly he had been around Jedi before if he saw it too, as one untrained in the language of stance and battle.
"No," Bryony replied, just as softly. "This place, it's different in the Force. The death and destruction, it drowns out everything else. I can't sense anything besides the past here."
"Well, isn't that cheerful?" Atton groaned, "We should have asked for directions before heading into this viper-infested hole."
"There are other ways to track the missing scavenger, without the Force," the Last of the Handmaidens pointed out. "His companions said that they had not gotten in far, but they must have gotten at least as far as one major room, to find any loot worth taking. How well do you remember this place, Bryony?"
"The destruction here is disorienting, but I remember it," Bryony replied.
"This place has been covered in dust for a long time too. It sounded like this group was one of the first to brave this level," Atton pointed out, "We might be able to see their tracks."
"Good call," Bao-Dur agreed. Both men immediately began scanning the ground around them for foot-shaped disturbances in the dust.
The Last of the Handmaidens could hear the scraping, scrambling noises drawing gradually nearer to their left. Wordlessly, she put herself between the left passageway and the Exile. Bryony shook her head sharply, as if trying to clear it. These distracted twitches worried the Handmaiden. This was certainly no safe place to be distracted.
"I think I found something," Atton announced from near the passageway to their left. His voice echoed loudly in the broken chamber around them.
"What?" Bryony asked, without care for the volume of her voice, and walked over towards where Atton stood. The Handmaiden hurried more quietly after her while Bao-Dur wandered over to join them as they stared at the dust on the floor.
"This looks kind of like tracks," Atton observed, pointing down, "Heading both in and out."
"I think you're right," Bao-Dur agreed, "If we follow them—"
With three of the four head lights pointed down into the dust, only the Handmaiden saw the lagreks coming. "Look out!" she warned, jumping between her three oblivious companions and the creature. With her sparking force pike, she beat back the first waist-hight insectoid beast. They all had dull red exoskeletons, bright eyes, and more legs than she cared to count. It lashed at her with its tail, and a second tried to head-butt her in the side, pincers flailing.
Around her, the others leapt into action. Both Bao-Dur and Atton fired rapid shots into the corridor, where their head lamps revealed several more of the creatures scurrying towards them. Bryony herself leaped into the fray beside her, swinging her vibroblade with cutting precision. With elegance of a dancer that knew all the steps by keen instinct alone, Bryony cleanly sliced appendages off the lagreks that ventured too close, and leaped towards those that did not. Bryony's every move spoke of the selfless need to protect those around her. It was not what she expected, given Atris' many tales and warnings of her. The handmaiden also noticed that, even as some of the lagreks slipped around her guard towards Bao-Dur and Atton, both men were intensely focused on Bryony's safety and the creatures that would attack her. Meanwhile, Bryony always seemed to be right there when one of them struggled with a lagrek at point-blank range.
It was not long before eight singed and dismembered lagrek bodies lay strewn about them on the ground.
Panting lightly, Bryony switched off the vibration unit on her blade and surveyed her companions. "Is everyone alright?" she asked. Even now, Bryony seemed more concerned for those around her than the scratches on her legs and arms.
"Yeah," Bao-Dur replied tersely.
"I'm fine," Atton added.
Like Bryony, the Handmaiden's legs had been scratched by the venomous claws of the lagreks. She could feel the poison stinging just under her skin, but her training and fine control over her body had taught her to shrug off the effects of mild poisons like this one. "Yes, I am ready to move on," she answered curtly.
Atton was scanning the ground near the doorway again. "Great," he complained, "All this fighting destroyed the tracks in the dust. It's all swept up by giant bug corpses now. Ugh. Remind me never to vacation here."
"There is no need for tracks to find the quarry when there is only one path to follow," the Handmaiden spouted an old Echani saying impatiently, "It is clear that the salvagers journeyed down this passage and then fled back the way they came. There is only one passage this way, correct?"
"Yes," Bryony nodded, "It's a long loop around the basement. There are many rooms on both sides of the hall, though."
"Then we go this way and hope the salvager is still alive," the Last of the Handmaidens concluded. Atton's utter lack of focus, except on Bryony's behind, utterly disgusted her. How could one such as he survive this long?
They continued down the dark corridor. Dust and rubble were piled against both walls while the stone floor was a mess of lagrek footsteps. As they turned a slight corner, they spotted three more lagreks scratching hungrily at a thick door. Bryony and the Handmaiden fell on them immediately. Between Atton and Bao-Dur's blasters and the women's blades, the three lagreks were down in a matter of seconds. A forth lagrek skittered around the corner ahead of them, hissing as it barreled towards them. Two quick shots to the head from Atton's blasters silenced it, collapsing to the floor. Its legs twitched then fell still.
"Did you see that?" Atton declared proudly to Bryony.
"Hey! Taepalae! Enric? Is that you?" a muffled voice called from behind the door.
"I think we've found our straggler," Bao-Dur observed softly.
"Are you Jorran?" Bryony called back through the door. She pressed the door controls on the door frame but it did not move. "We came to find you."
The man behind the door let out a stream of relieved profanities. "I thought I was a goner for sure when those yellow-bellied sons of gundarks left me to the beasts," he continued, triggering the door switch inside. The misshapen door slid open, scraping against its tracks. "I don't know how much longer that door would have kept the lagreks out," he admitted. Like the other scavengers from his team, he looked like a farmer that hardly knew how to hold a blaster. "Thanks for clearing them out for me. I don't know what possessed you to come down here in the middle of the night, but I'm grateful."
"We're searching the ruins ourselves," Bryony replied, "And when I heard that someone was trapped down here, I thought we should start with that."
"There aren't many of your kind left in the galaxy, stranger," Jorran said with puzzled gratitude, "But, for what it's worth, thanks."
"The way to the surface should be clear, if you hurry," Bryony advised him.
"Great, thanks," he shouldered a boxy backpack and made to run for the exit, but Atton reminded him.
"You know, we got out out," Atton pointed out dryly, "Those lagreks weren't easy to fight off. You could share what you've found."
"Ah, right, yeah," Jorran said awkwardly, and swung the backpack onto the ground. For all the salvagers in camp had moaned, there was not much in there: mostly a few decorative pieces and a few mechanical odds and ends. He scooped up the top two pieces and handed them to Atton. "I'm not sure what they're worth," he admitted, "But it must be something."
"Sure, thanks," Atton replied, unconvinced, still eying the contents of the bag as Jorran closed it up and swung it back on his back.
"I hope you don't mind, but I'm going to run for camp," the scavenger made his farewell, "I'm not anywhere near as good as you folks with a blaster—or a blade."
"Safe travels to you," Bryony urged pleasantly.
"And good hunting to you," Jorran said, and hurried off down the corridor towards the exit.
"We didn't need his salvage, Atton," Bryony said after the man had gone. "Being able to save a life is enough."
"Except for when we have to eat and supply the ship," Atton pointed out irritably, "Between docking fees and this salvaging permit, we're getting pretty low on credits."
"Let me see that," Bao-Dur said, plucking the small mechanical greeblie from Atton's hands.
"Hey," Atton exclaimed.
Bao-Dur hummed thoughtfully as he turned the small piece over in his fingers, scrutinizing it close to his face in the light of the head lamp. "I think this is a lightsaber emitter," he observed, "You could use this, General. It's still in good condition."
"You mean, you're not going to sell it?" Atton asked, "Come on, we need credits."
"The general also needs a lightsaber," Bao-Dur argued mildly, "And we are not likely to find one of those lying around."
"Fine, you're right," Atton acquiesced, "I can think of several times already where a lightsaber would have been nice to have around."
"And what's this?" the Handmaiden asked, taking the second object, a dark truncated sphere from Atton's hand. No longer distracted, he shot her a sharp glare. The object seemed to be made of dark glass with tiny twinkling points that caught the light like stars. The bottom surface was flattened, as if it were meant to sit on a shelf or the ground.
"It looks like a paperweight," Atton observed irritably.
"It is," Bryony replied, marveling, "That used to belong to Master Vandar. When it wasn't keeping his papers from blowing away, he used to use it in training for the younglings."
"To practice Lifting?" Bao-Dur asked.
Bryony nodded, "That, and…" she trailed off, focusing her attention on the glass weight. Suddenly, the tiny stars inside shifted, swirling into new places, as if they were now looking at a different part of the sky.
Despite herself, the Handmaiden's eyes widened in awe. "How did you—?" she gaped, "I've never even heard of anything like that."
"Master Vandar taught us to shift the 'stars' to mimic familiar constellations," Bryony explained. From the way her eyes took on a distant look, the Handmaiden could tell she was delving deep into her memories of the past. Perhaps the enclave was amplifying that. "This one is Cerandi, named for the first queen of Alderaan. It was always one of my favorites growing up."
"I've never heard of any material capable of doing what you just did," Bao-Dur marveled.
"It likely isn't something you have heard of," Bryony shook her head, "Master Vandar told us of a time before the wars of this century, when the Jedi lived on Ossus in peace, and some of the Jedi Masters devoted themselves to the creation of art, music, and other works of beauty that defied everything but imagination; art that could only be created with the aid of the Force."
"Atris has never spoken of anything like this," the Handmaiden admitted, trying to imagine the Jedi of such a time. What had already been lost was staggering. "The artifacts she has collected, I believe, are those that tell the history and the wisdom of the Jedi."
"When the Jedi lost Ossus, we lost much," Bryony said quietly. She left the more recent losses of the Jedi unsaid.
"If it is from Ossus, it must be at least a hundred years old," Atton surmised enthusiastically, "This could be worth a fortune: lost Jedi art! You could talk that up."
The heartbroken look of acquiescence Bryony gave Atton could not be mistaken as anything else. "Yes, I suppose it is worth a lot," she admitted listlessly.
Atton looked away from her uncomfortably, then sighed. "I guess you can keep it as a piece of your past," Atton replied, "But don't go calling every piece of junk we find here sentimental, or we'll have a whole lot of salvage and no credits to fuel our ship."
Bryony gave him a sad look of thanks while the Handmaiden handed the precious paperweight to her. She slit it into one of the pouches on her belt, and gazed into the room they had just rescued Jorran from. It had been picked clean of anything of value, but rubble and what was probably lagrek nests littered the floor. "This was where Master Vandar used to train the younglings," Bryony observed quietly. She seemed to be talking to herself rather than any of the others with her. "I wonder if any of the younglings made it out…" she trailed off murmuring to herself, "No, they wouldn't have…"
"Well," Atton said brightly, drawing out the word, "Let's go see if we can find any signs of that Jedi Master friend of yours while we're down here."
"Yeah, you're right," Bryony replied listlessly, shaking herself free of memories again.
Bao-Dur pocketed the emitter he was still examining, and they moved on. Unsurprisingly, there were more lagreks nesting around the next bend in the hall as well. Between the four of them, they dealt with the insectoid predators easily. As they made their way down the dark corridors, checking each side room they passed, they became more and more efficient at killing lagreks as they went. Bao-Dur seemed bent on collecting whatever small bits of Jedi electronics that he could find, and Atton gathered anything that looked valuable. Bryony was choosier with her salvage, collecting what appeared to be more like Jedi mementos and common Jedi tools for herself than salvage for sale. In one of the old bunk rooms, she even found a sealed foot locker containing a full set of Jedi robes that she tucked into her ever-bulging pack. The Last of the Handmaidens usually watched their backs, sometimes picking up whatever was left. Her focus was always on the doorways, and that turned out to have been a good posture on two occasions, when she prevented small packs of lagreks from sneaking up on them while they were looting. It pained her to see the Jedi's home picked bare like this, but if wasn't them, scavengers would follow soon after—scavengers who cared little for the history and sentiments of the Jedi. Here and there, the Handmaiden caught sight of what might have been a human boot print in the dust, but the signs were difficult to follow, with evidence of frequent passage by lagreks. Other that that, they found no signs of Master Vrook.
After scouring their fifth room, Bryony remarked as they re-entered the hallway, "I believe we're getting close to the archives. It's half way around the circle from the entrance. If is hiding anywhere in here, I would bet it is the archives. They are the most secure area in the enclave."
Atton nodded in agreement, though he could know nothing about the layout of the Jedi enclave. "Lead the way then," he said.
They rounded the next corner, and instead of checking every room they passed as they had been before, Bryony led them past and purposefully down the corridor. The Handmaiden remained wary, listening for the sounds of lagreks around them.
"There it is," Bryony said proudly, swinging her head and thereby the beam of light from her head lamp towards a large set of doors farther down the hallway to their left. At the sound of her voice and her light, a pack of at least five lagreks uncurled and scuttled out of the rubble towards them, hissing hungrily. That sound was echoed behind them as well. Turning around, the Handmaiden saw more lagreks pouring out of the two rooms they had already passed. She knew unbalanced odds when she saw them, even with blasters to pick them off from a distance. She stepped in front of Bryony and lowered herself into a balanced defensive posture, readying for what was likely to be a deadly fight. Better her than the Exile, upon whom so much hope rested.
She was so focused on counting the advancing lagreks from both sides that she did not notice Atton retreat into an open doorway behind them. "In here!" Atton called, waving to them. They did not need to be asked twice. Bao-Dur, Bryony, and the handmaiden, followed by Bao-Dur's hovering droid remote hurried into the room Atton had found. Handmaiden leaped on the single lagrek that had been stalking the chamber while Atton punched the door controls.
"It's not working!" Atton's voice raised in alarm.
"The controls look fried," Bao-Dur observed from the doorway where he shot volleys of laser-fire into the advancing lagreks.
"Back here!" Bryony called from the far wall of the room, "This should be a storage room. Can one of you get this open?"
"I should be able to," Bao-Dur replied and hurried back to help her. Glancing at the Handmaiden on his way, he said, "Cover me."
She nodded and took up his position in the doorway. She was soon joined by Atton, but as the horde of lagreks grew nearer, she knew they would soon be overwhelmed. She could only track two at a time, and Atton's blasters were worth little once they came within melee range.
"Do you have it open yet?" Atton yelled over his shoulder.
"Almost!" Bao-Dur called back hoarsely.
"We can't hold this position," the Handmaiden advised Atton, "Back up to the door." As soon as comprehension showed in his face, she turned and dashed for where Bryony guarded Bao-Dur at the storage room door, Atton following close behind. The Iridonian had the door control panel open and was reconnecting wires.
The first of the lagreks poured into the room. Atton, Bryony, and Bao-Dur's remote released a hail of blaster-fire into the pack, but it did little to slow them down. Only one of the lead lagreks fell. The Last of the Handmaidens found herself wishing that she too carried a blaster as a backup weapon for situations like this.
When the head of the tide of lagreks was only meters away, already spitting poisonous venom, the Handmaiden heard the door hiss open behind them and Bao-Dur let out a sound of triumph. Without needing a verbal command, she and the others fell back through the doorway. The others continued their volleys of blaster fire while Bao-Dur immediately moved to the control panel inside the door. This one worked with the push of a button, and the doors slammed shut. A moment later, the hissing and scratching of ten or more lagreks could be heard on the other side of the door.
"Nice work," Bryony complimented Bao-Dur, who was leaning on the wall and breathing heavily. Sweat dripped down his forehead from one of his horns.
He beamed at her. "Nothing like a little wire splicing under pressure," Bao-Dur replied, grinning and exhausted. His real hand shook slightly as he lowered it to his side.
"Well this is great," Atton complained, looking around the small storage room, "At least we're still alive and not eaten by a pack of hungry, giant insects, but there's no way out of here except the way we came in, and they're still out there. You can bet those scavengers won't come in here to rescue us."
Bao-Dur surveyed the room and started slowly, "I may have an idea."
"Going to burrow us out of here?" Atton asked, "That rock looks pretty thick overhead."
The Zabrak tech ignored Atton's sarcastic suggestion. "Did you see those power ports all along the walls in the hallway and in that last room?" he asked.
"Yeah?" Atton replied, not understanding the connection.
"They were sparking," Bryony observed, "As if they were not usable."
"But if they were sparking, it means that they are still connected to the main power grid, however dysfunctional it is right now," Bao-Dur explained, "The terminal in this room looks untouched. It's still running on auxiliary power. I should be able to slice into the power management system and reprogram it to overload all of the power conduits out there."
"And then we've got roasted lagreks," Atton nodded with approval, "I like it."
"But what if your Jedi Master, or any of the other smugglers are out in those halls when the power conduits are overloaded?" the Handmaiden asked.
"I can sever conduits from the network, if need be," Bao-Dur replied, "If the security cameras are still working, I should be able to access them from here and check for them from here."
"Do it," Bryony agreed, "It will get us out of her safely."
"It's amazing that there's still a working console in this building," Bao-Dur marveled as he easily sliced into the administrative functions of the console. "All of the others we have seen were either destroyed by the attacks, the lagreks, or the elements. The one in this sealed storage room maybe the only working console here."
"Well that's lucky, I guess," Atton admitted as he began to dig through the storage crates against the wall, "Maybe we'll be able to see your Jedi friend through the cameras."
Bao-Dur was already flipping through the security feeds. The handmaiden watched over his shoulder. Several were blank, while others showed empty rooms. The camera for the room outside of the storage room showed a writhing mass of lagreks crawling over one another to reach the door. She tried not to shudder.
"Do you see anything in the archives?" Bryony asked, also rifling through the stored supplies, "Make sure you don't short out the power there."
Bao-Dur shook his head, "The whole Archives system—power, security, everything—is on a completely separate closed network. We'll have to look first-hand."
The handmaiden watched transfixed as Bao-Dur separated the sections of the power grid that he had been unable to see from the larger grid, though as the console screen became a long, scrolling lines of code, she lost interest. Such things were not what warriors like here were trained in. Instead, she joined Atton and Bryony in their scavenging. The room seemed to house everything from spare teaching supplies, to repair parts, to extra bedding and toiletries. Her bag already growing full, the Handmaiden only took what she thought they could use or sell for a high price, leaving the rest. Bryony found another traveling bag among the stored goods, and the three of them quickly set about filling that up while Bao-Dur worked.
"Hey, Bryony, you should see this," Atton said suddenly, gently easing an ornately carved wooden cube out of a larger storage crate. "It looks like another one of your Jedi artworks."
Bryony's eyes brightened as if she knew what it was. She quickly moved over to Atton's side and took it from him. As Atton based the cube to Bryony, a light rattling could be heard from inside of it.
"Is this—?" Bryony started with quiet excitement. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. A slight click sounded from the cube and a hidden lid slowly lifted off the top, Pulled by the Force. Bryony's eyes danced with pleasure as the she opened them again. "Atton," she marveled, "Aside from the archives, this might be the most valuable thing left in the enclave. This is Dantooine's entire supply of lightsaber crystals. I selected my crystal from this box when I was an apprentice."
The Handmaiden rushed to Bryony's side to see for herself, peering over one of Bryony's shoulders while Atton looked over the other. Even Bao-Dur left his post at the console to take a look. More crystals, the size of a credit chit or smaller, filled the bottom of the box than she could count. In the light of their head lamps, they glittered a myriad of colors: green, blue, violet, yellow, and more. Staring at them, she could not help but feel a sense of peace and wonderment.
"With a supply like this, we could feed an army for a year," Atton observed, amazed.
"Or we could rebuild the Jedi Order," Bryony corrected him gently. "We have plenty enough other salvage to earn from."
"With those and everything else we've picked up, you might just have enough to put together a new lightsaber for yourself," Bao-Dur informed Bryony as he returned to the console.
"Building one can wait until we are out of here," Bryony replied, "I will need peace and quiet for that, and this enclave denies me of any peace." She let the lid of the ornate box lower back into its place, then gently tucked it into her own nearly full travel bag.
"I think I've got it," Bao-Dur informed them, "Should I start the overload sequence?"
Bryony nodded.
"Let's fry some bugs," Atton laughed grimly.
A few keystrokes later and a loud sizzling bang could be heard echoing throughout the enclave mingled with the hissing screeches of lagreks. The console screen abruptly went black as its source of power was cut off.
"I hope that did it," Bao-Dur said, approaching the doors. "Now we're going to have to pry these doors open manually, with the power conduits destroyed. Anyone want to lend me a hand?"
After considerable leaning, pulling, and pushing, they had the doors open. The air outside smelled foul, like burning flesh, and the ground was littered with charred corpses of lagreks. The handmaiden resisted the urge to cover her nose and mouth. Atton, however, had no such compunctions. She listened closely and could not hear any more of the familiar scratching and hissing of lagreks that had seemed to shadow them everywhere they had been in the enclave sub-level so far.
Cautiously, they crossed the room and returned to the hallway. A few more smoking lagrek carcasses lay strewn across the dusty floor. The Handmaiden nodded in approval. It had not been and elegant way to fight the beasts, but the Iridonian tech certainly made up for what he lacked in style with cleverness.
Slightly farther down the hall, two beautifully carved, though damaged, sliding doors stood in a dramatically arched doorway. This must be the Jedi archives, the Handmaiden thought, What forgotten knowledge lies here, waiting to be remembered? Bryony slowed pensively as they approached the doors. After a moment of gazing at their beautifully carved surface, Bryony moved to the door controls to the side and pressed them. The doors slid smoothly and silently open. The Iridonian had been correct that the archives were on a separate power source. The huge room inside glowed softly with gentle lamps.
"Someone has been here before," Bryony observed quietly, "The permissions have changed. As an exile, I wouldn't have still had access here. It looks like it has been altered to let anyone in."
"It would have taken an expert slicer to make that change so smoothly. Jedi systems are tough," Bao-Dur observed, then added, "Or someone who already had administrative access."
"Master Vrook," Bryony replied, and Bao-Dur nodded in agreement.
Bryony led the way as they entered the archives, and the Handmaiden made sure to close the doors again after them. She wanted no surprises, not in this hallowed place. The high, vaulted ceiling suggested that the archives had been built under one of the plateaus surrounding the enclave and was painted like the sky. In the center of the archives was a long, wide aisle with several long desks with four public computer terminals on each. At the very far end of the room, opposite the door, stood a statue of a human Jedi knight, though the Handmaiden did not recognize who it was. What interested her more than the terminals or the statue were the rows upon rows of shelves stocked full of data disks that reached from the floor nearly to the ceiling. She breathed a sigh of relief to know that all of this had survived the bombardment and even the more recent scavengers. It saddened her to think that, in clearing out the lagreks on the sub-level, it would soon fall prey to fortune-seekers. Even if they had a way to carry all of the resources out, the Ebon Hawk's hold could not contain it all.
Around her, the others were making their own awed inspections of the archives. Bryony slowly made her way down the center aisle. Something about the statue of the Jedi seemed to draw her to it. Ahead, Bryony stopped short. "What's this," she murmured, looking down. Without a word, Atton, Bao-Dur, and the Handmaiden gathered up behind her. Looking over Bryony's shoulder, they could see what had caught her attention: the bodies of three heavily armored men lay dead on the ground at the foot of the statue. Blaster rifles littered the ground around them—one had been sliced clean in half.
Bryony advanced slowly and examined the sight. The Handmaiden remained where she was, but strained to see what Bryony could see. "They were killed by a lightsaber," Bryony surmised. It was a sight that she must know well, the Handmaiden thought grimly.
"There's no other weapon that can cut blasters in half like that," Atton agreed.
"Or cauterize wounds even as limbs are cut off," Bryony pointed out, gesturing to one of the bodies, "This one was pierced right through the chest. I don't know of anything else that can do that. There was certainly a Jedi here not too long ago. These men can't be more than a few days dead."
The Handmaiden had to agree with her assessment. They showed no signs of decay, though she wondered who they were. The three dead men before them were much better armed than any of the scavengers they had met so far and carried no scavenging equipment. Suddenly, she realized that the light tapping noise at the edge of her consciousness was not the rhythm of the archives' generator, but a set of footsteps coming from between the shelves to their left. She whirled to face the intruder, extending her force pike as she spun.
"I believe they died only yesterday morning," a rich tenor voice spoke. The voice belonged to a tall, sturdy blond man wearing nothing more than light pants, a linen shirt, and a travel vest. He held his hands up at shoulder height, defensively, as if to demonstrate he indented no harm on the party.
"Who are you and how do you know that?" Atton asked harshly, scrutinizing the man.
"Ah yes, my apologize for the sudden intrusion," he bowed low with a polite flourish of his hands. The gesture resembled some of the characters in vids about the royal house of Alderaan as a child. Straightening up, he continued crisply, "I am something of a historian and a scientist. Although I came here for the purpose of historical research on the Jedi, I was once involved in the medical profession. I examined those bodies when I first entered the archives yesterday, and they had seemed to be freshly deceased then."
"You can tell that just by looking?" Atton asked skeptically.
"Yes, well there are lingering vital signs that—" the blond man began to explain pleasantly.
"It was a rhetorical question," Atton grumbled.
"Ah, I see," the man replied, somewhat flustered. The Handmaiden noticed that although she was the one with a weapon trained on him and Atton had so far been their spokesperson, the man's attention kept flickering to Bryony. She tightened her grip on her force pike. She would have no attempts to capture the Exile for bounties on her watch. The man cleared his throat uncomfortably and added, "I may have also seen their killer when I arrived, leaving the archives."
"What did he look like?" Bryony asked, staring intently at him.
"I admit, all I saw was the back of a brown hooded cloak, disappearing around a corner of the corridor, as if he were fleeing the scene," the man retracted his statement slightly.
"That would align with our suspicion that they were killed by a Jedi—likely your Master Vrook," Bao-Dur assessed, nodding.
Bryony too nodded in agreement.
"You are looking for a Jedi Master?" the man asked hesitantly.
Bryony nodded again. "Yes, we hoped he might help us defeat the Sith that still lurk in the shadows," she explained.
"Sith?" the man seemed surprised, "No Sith have been seen openly in the galaxy since the end of the Jedi Civil War."
"These Sith are different," Bryony explained, "They hunt the Jedi from the shadows. I believe it is they that quietly destroyed the Jedi Order, until there were only a few of us left."
The Handmaiden flinched inwardly as Bryony revealed her affiliation, but she noticed that the historian did not seem surprised. If he truly was a historian of the Jedi, as he claimed to be, perhaps he recognized Bryony's face.
"One cannot completely blame the Sith for something that was of the Jedi's own making," the man shook his head. There was both sadness and frustration in his voice. "This galaxy has seen three major wars in the last human lifetime, all of the Jedi. The teachings of the Jedi—and its teachers—are certainly to blame if they could not avoid the tragic mistakes of this century. The teachings of the Jedi failed their students when so many fell to the Dark Side, at great cost to the Republic and the galaxy. Their teachings failed when the Jedi themselves thought it best to sit and watch as the Outer Rim burned. That indecision forged Revan and the Revanchists. That decision led to the Jedi Civil War. You say more Sith still remain, picking of the Jedi from the shadows? History shows that those Sith were probably once Jedi who lost faith in the Jedi code. If the Jedi knew of this threat, even as they faded from the galaxy, I saw no evidence that they took any action to face it; only inaction. And if they were unaware of the Sith that hunted them, then their fault was inward-looking blindness to the galaxy around them. It is no wonder so many have now come to hate the Jedi." As he spoke, the Handmaiden could hear passion rising in his voice.
"Do you?" Bryony asked with soft intensity.
"Hate?" the historian echoed himself, "No, I don't hate the Jedi. Though, I do find fault with their teachings that have led us to this point. When a single Jedi can change the face of an entire planet, or more, I fault the Jedi for failing to take responsibility for and correcting their mistakes. It is difficult not to resent them for withdrawing and even disappearing from the galaxy at such critical moments. The Republic is floundering, and if certain key worlds are not held, if certain flash-points are not stabilized, the Republic itself could crumble. Now, more than ever, we need the Jedi, but they disappeared, without a word. No one truly knows what happened to them, and even that is a failing." This man knew, as well as Atris had, that the galaxy was in a precarious position. While she did not dare mention her mistress' existence to this stranger, the Handmaiden felt renewed pride in Atris' work—and by extension, her own. The galaxy needed Atris. Even though she had only traveled with her for a few days already, she was beginning to see that the galaxy needed someone like Bryony to gather the Jedi while Atris continued her work from the shadows.
"A few yet remain," Bryony seemed to be trying to reassure him, "I'm trying to find them and convince them to stand together against these threats we face."
"If that is what you seek," the man nodded slowly, approving of her words, "then our goals appear to be aligned. I would help you, if you would have me."
"Hold on," Atton cut in, as Bryony looked ready to reply, "We don't even know who you are or what you were doing here in the first place. How do we know you're not just another bounty hunter trying to cash in on Bryony."
"He doesn't look like bounty hunter," Bao-Dur quipped quietly.
"Looks can be deceiving, okay?" Atton argued.
"I am no bounty hunter," the man reassured them waving his hands in front of him, "I am not much of a shot with a blaster and my skills with a vibroblade are only rudimentary. You have nothing to fear from me on that front. As I said before, I am a historian, researching where the Jedi went and what led them to leave us. I hope to find some clues as to how we can avert the impending crises, with or without them." Seeing Atton's skepticism, he added quickly, "And, although I doubt my knowledge of history and the Jedi would be of little use to one such as you, my skills as a medic could come in handy in your travels."
Bryony nodded. "We need all the help we can get, if we are to succeed," Bryony admitted, "I welcome your help."
"You never told us your name," the Handmaiden observed keenly. She had not yet relaxed her defensive posture, force pike raised.
The man seemed a bit bewildered for a moment, then spoke, "You can call me a, ah, Disciple."
"Well then, Disciple, we welcome you," Bryony strode forward and extended her hand to him. He took it, hesitantly at first, then shook her hand with enthusiasm. Gesturing to her other companions, Bryony introduced them, "This is Atton, our pilot, Bao-Dur, a tech specialist, and Handmaiden, an Echani warrior." The handmaiden lowered her force pike and retracted the ends. She still found it strange that Bryony used her title as if it were a name, excluding her rank, but without any other handmaidens to confuse with, there was little harm in it.
"I am pleased to make all of your acquaintances," Disciple said, making a polite, formal bow to all of them.
"Yeah, whatever," Atton grumbled, "Just don't get in the way when the fighting starts, okay?"
"I will do my best," Disciple promised earnestly.
"We found evidence that Master Vrook Lamar was last seen here on Dantooine, and Administrator Adare confirmed that he has been here, secretly," Bryony explained. Disciple only nodded, allowing her to continue. "Evidently he was trying to help her with the problem of troublesome mercenaries."
"These may be some of those mercs," Atton pointed out, gesturing to the bodies on the floor.
"Have you found anything else that might lead us to him?" Bryony asked Disciple.
"Nothing you do not already know," Disciple shook his head. The Handmaiden saw truth in his bearing. "Only signs that he had been living in the archives for quite some time, but kept little with him."
"Have you searched the bodies for clues?" Atton asked. "I bet they were after him for the bounty, or messing with their business, or both."
"Other than a pulse, no," Disciple admitted, "It did not occur to me to connect these dead men with the Jedi."
"Well then," Atton said to himself, striding over to the bodies of the three mercenaries. He knelt down and began searching through their pockets. The others soon joined him. There was little to be found other than spare weapons and a few field rations and tools, but Bao-Dur found a palm-sized datapad on one of the bodies. He quickly sliced it, and the opening screen revealed a text set of orders.
"It says, 'Capture the Jedi at all costs, then bring him to the old Jedi caves for holding until we can smuggle him off world. He is worth a fortune on Nar Shaddaa,'" Bao-Dur read.
"If Adare has not heard from him, it may be because he's been captured by the mercenaries," Bryony concluded, her voice rising above its usual timbre in urgency. "We need to get him out before they ship him off to collect his bounty."
"Do you know where these 'Jedi caves' are?" Atton asked.
"Yes," both Bryony and Disciple asked together. Looking embarrassed, Disciple glanced at Bryony, deferring to her.
"The Jedi used to cultivate and mine lightsaber crystals in a set of caves not far from her," Bryony explained, "That must be where they wanted to take him."
"If a group of mere mercenaries were able to capture a Jedi Master at all," the Handmaiden added.
"Capturing a lone Jedi isn't so hard, if you have the right group and the right skills," Atton argued flippantly, then added quickly, "Not that I would know anything about that." The Handmaiden glared sharply at him. The idea that a revered Jedi Council Member like Atris or Vrook could be undone by a group of thugs was laughably insulting.
"Since there has been no sign of him elsewhere, checking the caves is our best lead right now," Bryony pointed out, "We should go there as soon as we deposit our salvage on the Ebon Hawk." At the sound of the ship's name, Disciple perked up, but he said nothing.
"I hate to rain on your parade, but not all of us have whatever Jedi energy reserves you do," Atton pointed out wearily, "I haven't slept or eaten since before we landed on this planet. It's not even dawn yet."
"Right…" Bryony realized.
"The mercenaries are unlikely to do anything overnight, so it would not hurt to eat some rations and rest a bit before we leave the ruins," Disciple pointed out, "The archives are safe enough."
"There won't be many lagreks out there any more either," Bao-Dur added, with a hint of pride.
"Okay, let's rest until dawn, and then move out again," Bryony acquiesced.
The group moved some of the computer terminals aside and pulled up chairs along one of the long tables in the center aisle. They passed around tasteless dry rations, then each found a place to sleep for the night. The Handmaiden was grateful for a chance to rest. Fatigue was dangerous in fights, especially against many enemies. The mercenaries would be well armed.
Bryony roused them all a few hours later, promptly at dawn, even though the archive had no windows to the outside. The Handmaiden wondered if the Jedi Exile had slept at all. They all drearily ate more of the rations in silence, then gathered up their things again. She noticed Disciple take a small blaster pistol and a vibroblade off of one of the dead mercenaries by the statue. She hoped he knew how to use them.
As they left the archives, the Handmaiden found herself lingering in the doorway with Bryony. Gazing back at the rows of shelves again, she felt a pang of sadness. "Isn't there anything we can do to protect this from the scavengers?" she asked Bryony softly, "Now that the lagreks are mostly gone…"
Bryony nodded in agreement. Turning to Bao-Dur, she asked, "Bao-Dur, could you…?"
The Iridonian Zabrak smiled and moved to the door controls. "If I reverse the polarity of the electromagnet seals and insert a bug into the permissions program, nothing short of a lightsaber will get these doors open," he replied and flipped the front panel of the controls off, revealing a tiny control screen below. In moments, the doors slid shut with a heavy clang, more swiftly than they had closed before. He continued to tap at the screen, altering the code, for a minute longer. Finally, he closed the panel cover and stepped back. "There," he said, pleased, "Your history will be safe for a little while longer."
"Thank you," Bryony said, returning his smile.