Part 10- The Dantooine Master
They were able to sell some of their salvage at the salvager camp when they exited the enclave in the morning. The salvagers were grateful for Jorran's rescue, but even more so for the favor of clearing out all of the lagreks. They all saw good money to be made in their futures. Some of the salvage of higher value was sold to dealers near Khoonda, and a significant portion went into storage on the Ebon Hawk; some of it for sale off-world and some for personal use. Bryony updated Kreia on their progress, but the mysterious old woman had little advice to give, other than to be cautious and weigh all possible options laid before her. Kreia's sense in the Force, too, was clouded by the wound in the Force around the ruins of the Jedi Enclave. While she offered all of her other companions the chance to rest on the Ebon Hawk as she went to find and rescue Master Vrook, they all refused. Each insisted on accompanying and protecting her. Bryony was relieved at all of their insistence, though she worried about Disciple's abilities in a firefight.
Like much of the surrounding area, Bryony vividly recalled the way around the low mesas to the Jedi's old crystal cave. Their eclectic group of five hugged near the cliff sides, skirting around the usual kath hound sleeping grounds. Bryony remembered visiting the crystal cave for the first time with Master Vandar, who explained how lightsaber crystals grew, drawing upon the Light Side of the Force. Dantooine had once been a nexus for the Light Side, but Bryony could not feel any of that now. She wondered if the crystals grew at all any more, if the cave had not been destroyed by the Sith, looters, or mercenaries. As an apprentice, she had helped harvest the crystals for the enclave, alongside Atris, Alek, and other apprentices. It was on one of those harvesting trips, under the supervision of the Twi'lek Jedi master, Master Zhar Lestin, that a brilliant viridian green crystal had drawn her in, harmonizing with the Force in her. Bryony, unsure of what it was she felt brought the crystal to Master Zhar, who told her to keep it. That crystal would one day become the heart of her lightsaber—the lightsaber that she surrendered the day she was exiled. It was time she took up a lightsaber again. With Bao-Dur's help, she had collected the materials she needed for a new one. She would construct it once Vrook was safe from the mercenaries.
With Bryony's guidance, they crossed the plains without incident, and without much conversation. All were keenly aware of the kath hounds that likely were settling in to rest for the day, after a night of hunting, not far away in the long grasses. The morning was crisp and chilly, but Bryony ignored it. All of her focus remained on Master Vrook, and what she would say to him once he was free. She hoped desperately that the mercenaries had not yet shipped him off-world.
Bryony found the crystal cave right where she remembered it. Even fifteen years away from Dantooine could not erase the frequent treads of her childhood. She wondered how the crystals fared now, with pain echoing through the Force. She doubted they would be useful for Jedi lightsabers any time soon. Caught up in her own memories, she was not the first to notice that they were not alone in the winding system of caves.
"Do you hear that?" the Handmaiden whispered sharply.
Shaken out of her reverie, Bryony strained her ears. The faint sound of voices echoed from deeper within the caves—voices that seemed unconcerned with the possibility of eavesdroppers. Bryony switched on her head lamp again, glad for the scavengers' generous gifts.
As they ventured beyond the mouth of the cave and deeper into the darkness, they came to a fork in the path that Bryony knew well. The crystal cavern was to their right, but the voices seemed to be coming only from the left. "This way," she whispered, gesturing with one hand. The others nodded and followed closely behind, weapons drawn. The voices grew louder the farther down the dark passage they ventured. From the sound of it, there were at least three or four men and one woman talking animatedly about something.
They rounded a bend in the cave and the voices were suddenly clearer. Light poured out into the winding passage from another chamber in the cave to the left. Bryony pointed to her head lamp and switched it off. The others wordlessly followed her example.
"Azkul needs to make good on getting a shuttle off this rock as soon as we take Khoonda," one of the male voices echoed down the passage.
Someone chuckled, "Yeah. The bounty on this Jedi could cover our operations here for half a year."
Bryony glanced back at the others huddled close behind her. "They must have Master Vrook," she whispered, gesturing for them to hold, "I'm going to scope it out." The Handmaiden looked like she wanted to protest, but held it in. Bryony hugged close to the cave wall and slunk up to the opening of side chamber. Peering cautiously around the edge, Bryony surveyed the cave. It held several bright lamp stands around the edge, connected by cables to a softly whirring generator in the center. In addition to the lamps, a comms station and a Force cage also drew power from the compact generator. The balding robed man in the cage was unmistakably Master Vrook Lamar. He stood unwavering, even unphased, by his situation. His dark blue eyes scanned the room slowly, shifting from one mercenary to the next. In total, six mercenaries lounged impatiently about the cave, either pacing or sitting on one of several storage crates. Having lingered long enough, Bryony retreated back to where her four companions waited. Quietly, she described the situation and the set-up of the cave to them.
"I don't like the odds of six on five, but if we catch them by surprise, it might be enough," Atton admitted at a whisper.
"We may be able to convince them to release him, without shedding blood," Bryony shook her head, disagreeing quietly, "I'm going to try to talk to them first, but if it goes badly, I need you all to be ready. Bao-Dur, can you handle the Force cage?"
He nodded, "Yes, General."
"We will stay out of sight, to maintain the element of surprise," the Handmaiden suggested.
Bryony nodded in agreement. "But let me try to talk to them first," she urged.
"Sure, a bunch of unemployed mercenaries are going to hand over their bounty just because you asked nicely," Atton whispered sarcastically, rolling his eyes.
"I have to try," Bryony replied firmly. She would not kill if she did not have to. With another gesture to her companions, Bryony returned to the edge of the entrance to the cave that the mercenaries had made into a holding cell for Master Vrook. She stepped out into the opening, but before she could speak, one of the mercenaries spotted her and scrambled to his feet from the storage cylinder he had been sitting on, raising a blaster rifle. "Hey! Who are you?" he barked at her.
"Get out of here before we blast your head off for snooping where you don't belong," another snarled as he saw her, raising his blaster rifle as well.
Bryony, however, remained unarmed. She let her blaster and her vibroblade hang from her belt. Her offer needed to both look and sound credible. "I have come for the prisoner," she said with smooth confidence, "Release him to me."
"Azkul didn't say anything about the Exchange coming to pick up the Jedi on Dantooine," the second mercenary, who stood closer to Bryony, said shrewdly, "We're waiting for a shuttle to Nar Shaddaa, so we can cash in on this one."
"She doesn't look like she's from the Exchange either," the lone woman in the group assessed sharply, "Not a pretty bit like her."
Scanning the room, Bryony noticed that Vrook's eyes were on her, though his face betrayed no emotion. The rest of the mercenaries were focused on her, their prisoner forgotten.
"So, unless you have the promised eight-hundred trillion credits for a Jedi bounty, he's not going anywhere," the first mercenary retorted with a grin, "And neither are you."
Bryony closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath, focusing on the mercenary who had just spoken. Through the Force, she eased a suggestion of compliance into his mind. "You will release the prisoner to me," she repeated, firmly and meditatively.
"I will release the prisoner to you," he said dully and started towards the force cage.
"Ivern! What are you doing?" one of the other mercenaries demanded in shock. Another grabbed him and shook him by the shoulders as Bryony realized her mistake. Her mind trick had not extended to the others in the room. Her hands went to her vibroblade, ready to unhook it from her belt.
"She's another Jedi!" the woman exclaimed, "Get her!"
The six mercenaries, including the one she had tricked, raised their weapons and charged her. Her own companions leaped out from cover. She ducked into the room, rather than out, surprising her attackers. Vibroblade whirring, she met the mercenary with a sword head-on. Around her, she was aware of Bao-Dur dodging past mercenaries to the force cage and Disciple and Handmaiden rushing to meet two of the other mercenaries. Atton hung near the doorway, returning fire to the mercenaries with blaster rifles. The mercenary fighting her was good, clearly experienced in battle, but he was no match for Bryony with the Force guiding her steps. She did not see the opening he gave her as much as felt it. By the time she cut him down, only one of the mercenaries was still standing, and a blaster shot from Bao-Dur finished him quickly. Freed from the force field, Vrook still stood pensively, scowling on the cage platform at the edge of the cave.
Switching off her vibroblade, Bryony approached him. "Master Vrook…" she began hesitantly.
"Bryony Thuvell," he replied, crossing his arms, "You always did rush into things without considering the consequences." His disapproval was evident.
"What? No 'thank you'?" Atton asked, astonished from the door.
With only a cursory glance at Atton, he stepped off the force cage platform and approached Bryony. "You expected me to thank you for this 'rescue'? I think not," he lectured bitterly, "I allowed myself to be captured, just as I would escape when I was done here. We needed to know what the mercenaries were up to. Once they had me caged, I was a non-threat, an object, even. They talked openly of their plans to storm Khoonda and take over this whole colony for themselves. All I needed to know was a time line. But you had to break in and warn them by setting me free. And while you were too absorbed in the currents of battle, one of them escaped to warn the others. He knows I heard. I am sure they will move to attack Khoonda even now. I am sure that even you realize that Khoonda cannot fall to the mercenaries."
"Yes," Bryony replied, chastised. Vrook still knew how to deliver the most stingingly disapproving lectures.
"Then you will help right what you have mucked up," he replied irritably, "I will go to the mercenary camp to slow them down. You must go to Khoonda and inform Administrator Adare, then stand to defend them. Can I trust you to do that, Thuvell?"
"Yes," Bryony nodded again.
"I suppose I can always trust you to stand and fight, even when you should not," Vrook sighed, mostly to himself. "Go then," he ordered, "I will do what I can to slow them down." Without another word to her, the aging Jedi Master broke into a run and jogged from the cave.
Bryony let out a long sigh, then pursed her lips. How could she have know of Vrook's plan? Administrator Adare was the one who urged her to rescue him. Regardless, it now fell to her to defend the fledgling Dantooine government.
"That didn't go as you had planned it, did it?" Handmaiden observed.
"You could say that again," Atton grumbled.
"At least he was unharmed," Bao-Dur added.
"You heard him," Bryony reminded them, "We need to hurry back to Khoonda. If the mercenaries want to take over the planet for whatever their reasons are, they will want to kill Administrator Adare. Protecting her is our priority here. Let's go."
As she led them out of the caves at a brisk pace, Bryony could not help running over the events of the cave in her head again. Certainly, tricking the mind of only one man had been a mistake, but she had no way of knowing that Vrook did not wish to be rescued. Clenching her fists, she knew she had to stand by her choices. Exiting the cave, Bryony shielded her eyes against the bright sunlight and stowed her headlamp.
Beside her, Disciple asked, "Are you alright? You seem shaken."
Bryony glanced at him and saw genuine concern in his blue eyes. "I'm fine," she reassured him with a mask of steadiness, "Vrook has always been like that."
"Indeed," he nodded, looking slightly relieved, "I am glad to hear it."
Turning her attention to the rest of the group, Bryony urged, "We're going to need to hurry, and hope that none of the kath hound packs in this area notice us." With that, she started off in a measured run. The others fell into line behind her, and she hoped that they all had the stamina for the run ahead of them.
They reached Khoonda, panting, to find it as quiet as they had left it. Bryony immediately asked to see Adare. After a bit of urgent persuasion, they were allowed to interrupt Adare's meeting with Captain Zherron, leader of the small local militia forces. Unlike her bearing in front of Vrook, Bryony addressed the two leaders confidently, explaining what they had found and what Vrook feared. Zherron was skeptical and wary, but Adare and Bryony were able to convince him of the urgency of the threat. Adare trusted Vrook's word implicitly. The gruff militia leader outlined what they already knew about the mercenaries: there were roughly thirty of them on Dantooine near Khoonda, and that essentially all of them had experience fighting in one or both of the previous wars, on either side. All were combat-hardened, out of work, out of credits, and desperate. Bryony's offer to fight along side of his small band of local militia—no more than a dozen men and women—his hardened skepticism softened. Though, they would still need every advantage they had, to gain an edge over numbers. Their defense turrets around the perimeter had been sabotaged a few days earlier, and their war-time defense droids had long been out of use.
"Bao-Dur, do you think you could try to repair the turrets and the droids?" Bryony asked.
"There isn't much time, but I will do what I can," Bao-Dur promised.
"Bao-Dur is the most talented tech I have ever met," Bryony assured him, "If anyone can do it in time, he can." Bao-Dur looked both thankful and bashful at her instance in his skills.
"Excellent, I'll show him to the controls," Zherron offered roughly.
"If the rest of you could see to the defenses of the Khoonda grounds," Administrator Adare started, "We will gather the militia and evacuate the non-combatants for their safety.
"This settlement will survive," Bryony promised.
"I hope you're right," Administrator Adare replied, her eyes brimming with worry, "Vrook had better get out of this alright." Adare excused herself to call for evacuations of the fields, encouraging settlers to get to safety, with whatever means she had, while Zherron escorted Bao-Dur deeper into Khoonda.
Since meeting, Disciple had noticed that the Zabrak possessed a remarkable knack with technology. He hoped that Bao-Dur could deliver on turret repairs. It would certainly even the odds of success for the defenders of Khoonda. Bryony seemed to think that Bao-Dur could do it, so that would have to be enough for Disciple.
With the militia leader gone and the administrator hard at work at her comms terminal, their small band was left alone to determine what to do next. Bryony gazed over each of them, meeting their eyes. Even before she spoke, their attention was fully focused on her. "We have a small supply of frag mines and flash mines on the ship, and there may be more here with the militia. Atton, can you set up mine fields in choke points on either side of Khoonda? The mercenaries could come in either or both ways," it was an order more than a request.
"Can do," Atton nodded solemnly.
"Handmaiden, how are your climbing skills?" Bryony asked, shifting her attention to the pale woman dressed all in white. Although no more than the barest introductions had been made when he joined the band, Disciple recognized her as Echani; a stoic, competent fighter.
"They are acceptable," the woman assessed, as if examining herself from a distance.
"We need someone on top of the plateau to the south. It should give a good view of the possible approaches the mercenaries could take from both the east and west. Any advance warning we can get of their approach and numbers could save us," Bryony explained, "Can you get up there?"
"Yes, I will do it," Handmaiden promised.
Bryony turned her attention to Disciple. Her dark eyes meeting his, acknowledging him, sent an unexpected thrill through his nerves. "Disciple, I need you to check for stragglers that will miss Administrator Adare's evacuation call. It does not look like they have a very sophisticated crisis system here and it will inevitably miss some people. We need to minimize civilians caught in the middle," she said, "And if any of them want to pick up a blaster and defend their home, send them to Zherron and see if he can't outfit them. Don't go too far, as there's no telling when the mercenaries could strike. Concentrate on the immediate area around Khoonda."
"I will do my best," he said eagerly. For Bryony Thuvell, he could promise nothing less than the best.
Bryony was not done yet, however. She looked him up and down with a hint of concerned disapproval. "You also need better armor if you are going into a fight with mercenaries carrying a vibroblade. Go see if the militia has any extra armor you can borrow," she suggested, then added, "The same goes for you, Atton and Handmaiden, if you think you need more armor, talk to the militia."
"Echani do not use armor," Handmaiden informed her, "It hampers movement."
"I'm good too," Atton said with a shrug. Disciple hoped Atton's cockiness would not kill him. A thick vest and gauntlets could hardly be considered sufficient armor, but he kept his opinions to himself.
Bryony nodded in approval. "When it comes time to defend Khoonda," she started again, "Handmaiden, I want you leading the charge with me against the mercenaries. If we can draw fire from the militia, it may save them. Atton, cover us. I will speak to Bao-Dur about doing the same. Disciple, I want you to hang back near the entrance to the compound to keep any mercenaries from sneaking in. They may send someone to assassinate the administrator."
"Of course," Disciple agreed, bowing his head in acceptance. She seemed to think him a weaker fighter than Handmaiden, Atton, or Bao-Dur, and he could not fault her for it. He had not been with her long, and he had not had much of a chance to demonstrate his training, rusty as it was. That she did not seem to remember the last time they met stung him, but he tried to brush it aside. Even if she did, he had been young then, and not impressive with a practice blade. At the same time, she seemed to want to protect him by asking him to stay back, and that was a comfort. In that, he knew she valued him even still.
"I need to get some things from the ship," Bryony began again, "I will find those mines for you, Atton, if you look into any more mines you can find here at Khoonda. Buy them if you have to. We have credits now. Then I will check in with Bao-Dur and Captain Zherron. Any questions?"
No one voiced any.
"Then we get to work. We will save Khoonda from these mercenaries," Bryony promised.
The team briskly went their separate ways. Disciple, unsure of where to go, approached Administrator Adare's desk behind where they had stood. "Excuse me," he began, "Which way to the militia office. Bryony believes I need to be better armored if I am to fight the mercenaries."
Adare glanced up at him, distracted, "Out the door and around the corner to your left. It is clearly marked."
"Thank you," he bowed, then asked, "Has there been any word from Master Vrook?"
She shook her head, "None yet. We can only hope that that's a good sign."
Bryony found the mines in the innocuous storage crate that had been in the back of the cargo hold ever since they had taken ownership of the Ebon Hawk. She carefully transferred the nine mines into one of their salvaging bags and set it aside. She then turned her attention to the more recent additions to their cargo. Amidst their salvage from the Jedi Enclave was the single set of Jedi robes that she had found. They lay roughly in a pile of varying shades of brown fabric next to the small wooden box of lightsaber crystals. She stripped out of her tan linen shirt and darker wool pants. The cool cotton of the Jedi robes felt refreshing on her skin as she pulled on a pair of medium brown pants and a high-necked knit black undershirt. Over that, she wrapped a matching brown tunic, obi, and scarf-like tabbards around her. Although she did not have a proper Jedi belt any more, the holster belt she had found on Peragus filled a similar function. Her boots, however, were still the pair she walked away from the Jedi in, though worse for wear and repeatedly repaired. She was thankful that the robes fit her, small human though she was, even if they were a little big. By their wrapped nature, Jedi robes could fit a wide range of shapes and sizes. Pants were another story, and these, thankfully, fit. Although she could not see herself in a mirror, Bryony knew she looked like she should again: like a Jedi. As she pulled dark brown robe over her shoulders—heavy even in summer-weight fabric—she heard the rustle of fabrics at the entrance to the cargo hold. Turning around, she saw Kreia watching her.
"You think that some old clothes are enough to make you a Jedi again?" Kreia asked, somewhat distastefully.
"No," Bryony knew better than most that being a Jedi was far more than robes and a lightsaber, "But it is enough to make me the symbol of a Jedi, and that is what this place needs."
"A truthful though daring assumption," Kriea nodded. Bryony sensed mild approval over their bond. "What do you hope to achieve by this?"
"Dantooine needs to see the Jedi as servant protectors again if the Jedi are ever to be welcome here again," Bryony explained. If the Jedi were not welcome on Dantooine, where in the galaxy could they be welcome? "Vrook and I can be those Jedi for them."
"This may complicate your efforts to protect these people," Kreia warned sagely, "A single act of generosity may not be viewed as genuine as you hope it to be. Do not be surprised if some of the locals hate you for what you have chosen to wear, what you have chosen to be."
"I have been hated before," Bryony replied firmly. It was a sensation she could easily bear again, to stand for what she believed in.
"Then you are ready after all," Kreia replied slowly.
"We could use your help defending Khoonda," Bryony stated. Kreia was powerful in the Force, that much was certain. A third Jedi protector could turn the battle and the hearts of the settlers.
"I am not the symbolic Jedi you hope to be," Kreia shook her head, "I will not be of help to you on the battlefield as you imagine. I can, however, render support from here, unseen."
"Anything you can do would be appreciated," Bryony bowed to her, as a padawan bows to her master. It was a strange feeling, after all of these years.
"Now go, Jedi," Kreia urged, "There is no time to waste if you want to carry out what you have planned."
After finding a suitable armored vest from the militia supplies, Disciple made a circle of the immediate area around Khoonda. He shooed one bird-watching colonist into the Khoonda complex for safety and convinced the Rhodian salvage dealer that had bought much of their salvage earlier that day to pack up his wears and pick up a blaster to help. He was in the walled landing pad area trying to talk the surly mechanic they met yesterday and a trio of travelers awaiting a ship into abandoning their posts and heading for Khoonda when Bryony strode off the Ebon Hawk loading ramp carrying what must have been a bag of mines, brown Jedi cloak billowing behind her. Disciple lost his train of thought and stared at her as she hurried purposefully across the ferrocrete towards the Khoonda administrative building. The mechanic and three departing scavengers swiveled their heads to gape at her as well. A wave of past hopes, admiration, and disappointments washed over Disciple. As he stared, Bryony seemed totally focused on the task in front of her, unaware that he was there. Whatever the doubts he had had of her before, this was Jedi Knight Bryony Thuvell.
"What the—?" the mechanic blurted, "A Jedi?"
"Yes, that is Bryony," Disciple said distantly, still watching her as she disappeared through the entrance to the landing pad, "She's here to protect Khoonda from the mercenary attack I was trying to tell you about." Suddenly, he understood why Bryony would decided to wear Jedi robes now. Khoonda needed a Jedi savior to be at peace with its past and future.
"What the skrag does she think she's doing here? The Jedi are gone and we like it that way!" the mechanic raved gruffly, "Jedi only ever look after their own, bringing death and destruction to everything else around them. I don't trust a Jedi worth kath shit. I'm lending my blaster to Zherron, so Dantooine doesn't loose this fight too." Before Disciple could say another word, he stormed off, muttering angrily.
Well, that could have gone worse, he mused to himself. Turning back to the three bewildered salvagers, he urged, "We believe that an attack from the mercenary group is coming soon. You would be far safer to wait for your transport inside Khoonda's walls."
From atop the plateau to the east of Khoonda, the Handmaiden watched Disciple approach stragglers and heard them into Khoonda. She saw Bryony return from the Ebon Hawk wearing Jedi robes. Bryony drew stares from the stragglers and the militia members already forming up around the perimeter of the compound. From the sudden shifts in posture, Handmaiden could see that Bryony triggered feelings of hostility or at least wariness more often than she inspired hope. As she watched Bryony approach Atton and hand off the bag of mines, Handmaiden wondered what Atris would think of this display of bravado. As an Echani, the handmaiden admired Bryony for her use of Jedi imagery to evoke emotions in battle. As a handmaiden to the last Jedi, she knew in her heart that Atris would deeply disapprove. She would say that Bryony had no right to wear the robes of an order that she had so dishonored. Even as she watched Bryony speak words of encouragement to the militia members she passed on her way back into the Khoonda administrative center, she began to doubt her inner voice, so carefully cultivated by Atris. Was her mistress wrong about the woman Bryony had become through exile? Had the woman truly changed for the better over the last ten years?
She watched as Atton continue his work on setting mines. Already finished with the eastern choke-point between two plateaus, Atton now used the mines from the Ebon Hawk to block access to Khoonda from the bridge to the west that provided the only dry path over a deep, rushing stream. He worked with practiced accuracy and focus, again making Handmaiden question what his role had been in past wars.
As she skirted along the edge of the plateau, staying low so as not to attract attention, she noticed Bao-Dur's small spherical droid remote zip out of Khoonda's main entrance and speed over the ground and up and over the plateau to the north. She wondered what it could mean. She scanned to the east, seeing nothing but kath hounds amid the swaying grasses—but then something. She squinted closer at moving shapes around the rolling hill to the northeast. Sunlight reflected off of several points of metal. It was the mercenaries, and they were moving fast, though still a few minutes away by foot. She lingered just long enough to count eleven men striding through the tall grasses before hurrying to the other edge of the plateau, facing the southern stream. Just out of sight from those on the ground were another fifteen mercenaries, all heavily armed and armored. These were even closer, only a few hundred meters away.
The Handmaiden abandoned all concern for secrecy and quickly found the safest way down the side of the plateau. Scrambling down, she sprinted for Khoonda to alert Bryony, the militia, and Administrator Adare.
A spherical droid remote whizzed into the salvager camp, zig-zagging and bobbing to a halt while emanating a series urgent whistles and low beeps.
"What the kriff is this thing?" someone demanded.
Jorran squinted at it. It was a pretty standard looking droid remote, but he felt as if he had seen one like it recently. Then it hit him, "I think it's the remote that was with those salvagers that pulled me out of the sub-level."
"You mean the ones the cleaned out all of the lagreks for us?" Enric questioned. There had been general rejoicing among the salvagers at the news that the sub-level was significantly less dangerous now. A few beasts now remained, but it was nothing like before.
Suddenly, the remote projected a small blue image of a petite woman dressed in long Jedi robes. She spoke, "My name is Bryony Thuvell. Some of you may remember me as part of the group that went into the Jedi Enclave last night. We have just learned that the mercenary group in the area plans to attack Khoonda imminently, to take control of the planet for their own gains. I do not know where the battle will range, so I suggest you seek shelter in the Enclave if you do not wish to be caught in it. I understand that many of you are veterans of the wars. If you wish to raise a blaster in defense of the future of Dantooine, the Khoonda militia would welcome your assistance." The image of the woman bowed and then disappeared. The droid remote made another low beeping noise, then zipped away over the nearest plateau.
"She's a kriffing Jedi!" one of the smugglers exclaimed.
"That's the woman that saved me," Jorran argued. "That's what Jedi are supposed to be. Helpin' people, defendin' them."
"Those mercs are bad news," Taepalae said, shaking her head, "I'm not going anywhere near them."
"Will you once they're in charge of Dantooine? You've seen the pathetic militia they've got here," Jorran tried to persuade her. "I don't care about all of you, but I'm going to go fight for Dantooine. Those mercs will make life worse for us if they win. Come with me if you've got the balls for it."
Vrook arrived at Khoonda just ahead of the mercenaries from the south. Handmaiden had already warned Khoonda's protectors, and Administrator Adare was safely locked up inside, while Bryony and her team guarded the south with three veteran militia members and Zherron and the rest of his militia guarded the north. Master Vrook dashed across the bridge at a speed that could only be augmented by the Force, robes flapping about him but not slowing him down. He leaped over the line of mines then slowed to pause in front of Bryony. "It looks like you have held up your end of the deal," he observed, only slightly winded, "I did what I could at the camp, but I was only able to thin them slightly. I gave you what time I could." He looked Bryony up and down, taking in her Jedi robes. Although he clicked his tongue, he made no further comment on it.
"We are as ready as we can be," Bryony reported. Already, over Vrook's shoulder, she could see the first of the mercenaries emerging from between the plateaus across the stream. "Zherron could use an extra hand to the north of Khoonda."
Looking over their thin numbers, Vrook asked, "You can hold things here?"
"We have to," Bryony replied firmly. There was no other choice.
That seemed to be enough for the Jedi Master. "Khoonda cannot fall," he agreed, then sped off around the building complex to the north, where Zherron awaited a wave of mercenaries.
Bryony focused her attention on the mercenaries, praying the defenses would work. If the mine field or the turrets failed them, fifteen-to-eight odds did not look good. Most were armed with heavy blaster rifles, but a few carried vibroblades. They were ready for Jedi.
As the mercenaries crossed the bridge into range, Bao-Dur fired off a few shots at them. Although his long-range shots went wide, it identified the mercenaries as hostile for the AI that ran the two turrets, which suddenly rained down a hail of laser fire on the advancing band. Two of the mercenaries did not make it across the bridge to the mine field, while the turrets forced the mercenaries to hurry to avoid them, blundering into the mines. The defenders were ready, shielding their eyes from the bright flash mines, but the mercenaries were not. The frag mines killed one mercenary and injured another, while the rest of the front line was momentarily stunned by the bright flash. The turrets continued to fire, joined by Atton, Bao-Dur, and the militia veterans, as Bryony and Handmaiden rushed into the fray. Bryony fell into Force-led battle consciousness, letting the Force guide her moves and warn her of attacks. She clashed blades with one of the mercenaries, meeting him strike for strike. He was good, an experienced soldier, but he did nothing unexpected. It was nothing like fighting a Mandalorian in melee combat. She stepped aside as the Force warned her of incoming blaster fire, giving him an opening. She managed to dodge the worst of it, but he cut a narrow gash in her thigh. She clenched her jaw. The pain was a warning. It renewed her focus. She dipped deeper into the Force as more mercenaries advanced across the bridge, firing into the fray. A second vibroblade user lunged at her, and she fell back, moving at Force-augmented speeds to keep up with both of them. At the edge of her consciousness, she was aware of more mercenaries advancing on Handmaiden. The bottleneck at the bridge was failing.
Suddenly, there was another blade flashing beside her. Disciple rushed to her side, beating back one of the mercenaries that bore down on her with surprising strength for a scholar. Seeing her opening in the moments' distraction, she cut down the remaining mercenary focused on her. Now the front door to Khoonda, though locked, was unguarded. She hoped that, if it came to it, the hastily repaired battle droids inside would be enough to protect the administrator. Now, the odds reversed two-against-one, Disciple and Bryony easily killed the other mercenary then turned to assist Handmaiden. In moments, the two mercenaries fighting with the ends of her force pike were down as well.
Six armored mercenaries with blaster rifles still held the bridge, clustered together in protective lines. Once Bryony, Disciple, and Handmaiden got close, they could cause havoc in their ranks, but closing that distance as lightly armored as they were would be a challenge. Drawing on the Force, Bryony sprinted towards them, dodging to the right and left to confuse their aiming. Even still, she felt a few grazing blaster bolts sting her arms. Only a meter in front of them, she swung her vibroblade and leapt into their midst, giving the others the distraction they needed in order to draw closer. For a few perilous seconds, it put her in danger of being the target of six blasters at once. Handmaiden and Disciple rushed to join her while the ranged fighters closed the distance to a more manageable range.
Faced with six men nearly twice her size, Bryony relied on her agility and connection to the Force to protect her. She feigned several ineffectual lunges at the front-most mercenaries then quickly danced back to the foot of the bridge. All at once, the six men twitched and writhed, several grasping at their foreheads in anguished terror.
Kreia? Bryony wondered.
-You have your moment, use it,- Kreia's harsh voice echoed in her mind, confirming her suspicions.
Bryony lunged, slicing the front-most mercenary's blaster rifle clean in half, and then plunged her blade through the weak point near his arm pit. He dropped with a scream—a sound that rolled off Bryony as just another sound of battle. The other mercenaries seemed to be recovering from their momentary Force-induced terror, but Disciple and Handmaiden were already back at her side again. Disciple muscled one of the mercenaries off the bridge, tumbling into the rushing water, where the turrets made short work of him. Handmaiden knocked another off-balance, tipping him into the water. He was dead from laser fire before he could drown. That left three more mercenaries aimed only with blaster rifles. They were no match for vibroblades and a force pike.
As soon as the last mercenary on the southern bridge was down, Bryony scanned the area for more and found none. Gesturing towards the back of Khoonda, she called to the other defenders, "Handmaiden, Atton, stay here and watch the bridge in case of a second wave. The rest of you with me!"
Running at a normal human pace, she dashed around the side of Khoonda with Disciple, Bao-Dur, and two of the three militia men—one was down with an injured leg. At the back of Khoonda, she found Vrook and the militia fighting off the remaining few mercenaries. They were joined by a handful of well-armed scavengers that harassed the mercenaries from behind. Although several of the militia had fallen, the remaining three mercenaries were boxed in. It was only a matter of time until they fell, and they knew it. Bryony could see it in their faces. She had seen that look in the face of her own men on Duxn. Something inside of her longed to give these men a chance to run and save their lives, criminals though they were, but she did not have a chance. By the time they reached the line of battle, the last three mercenaries had been killed.
Seeing Bryony approach, Zherron rumbled with grim gratitude, "It's over."
"We seemed to have averted the crisis, in the end," Master Vrook sighed, though his sharp glare told Bryony that he still did not approve of her actions that led them to this point.
"We lost a few good men," Zherron observed. Bryony could sense sadness and regret beneath his coarse exterior. "They knew what they were fighting for, and they died for Dantooine's freedom, though that's not going to make it any easier for their families."
Glancing between Bryony and Zherron, Vrook suggested heavily, "Let's go tell the administrator it's over."
Inside Khoonda, Vrook, Zherron, and Bryony found Terena Adare calmly seated behind her desk. She had been watching the external security camera feeds. "You've done it," she congratulated with a weary warmth as she stood to greet them, "Dantooine is safe again. Thank you all, and to everyone else who helped."
"I am sorry for the losses," Bryony said quietly, "We did what we could."
"I know," Adare replied, bowing her head, "You all did. We will erect a monument for their heroics. They stood for Dantooine when odds were against them, because they knew it was what they had to do."
"I think the rest of the militia and their families would appreciate that," Zherron agreed gruffly.
"I can see now that many more changes need to be made around here," Adare continued, "Things cannot continue as they were. If you Jedi are trying to bring the Order back, you will need a place to gather, to study, and to live. Dantooine can be that place. You can remain hidden here in a way that is impossible elsewhere. For that, I will give my open support to the Jedi."
"Me too," Zherron agreed, "I've seen what you can do, and what you will do for these people."
"There may yet be distrust, but you two showed the people of Dantooine that the Jedi care about us, that the Jedi would face impossible odds to defend us," Adare continued, "If you are to take back your enclave, the salvaging needs to stop, but we cannot leave such a significant portion of our population unemployed. Vrook, do you still have access to the Jedi's funds? You may find the salvagers a willing work force to reconstruct the enclave."
Vrook nodded, "I do, though it will take some re-routing not to attract attention by drawing from the accounts."
"What mercenaries that remain will be encouraged to leave or take up employment in the militia or construction crews," Adare continued.
Zherron chuckled, "We can apply a little 'encouragement' with blasters if needed."
"Don't push the remaining mercenaries too far," Adare warned, "We do not want another battle like this. Dantooine has few enough people and resources as it is." She paused, looking over Vrook and Bryony. Hope filled her eyes. "So they Jedi are coming back, then?" she asked them.
"That is my goal," Bryony replied soothingly.
"It remains to be seen," Vrook cut in, with a hint of sharpness.
"I hope it is true," Adare replied wistfully, "It is not just Dantooine that needs you. The whole galaxy needs you."
"We shall see," Vrook said vaguely. It irked Bryony that he would refuse a promise of help when the need was so clear.
"If you'll excuse me, I've got some families to contact," Zherron said heavily.
"And I need to give the evacuation all-clear," Adare added, then mumbled to herself, "We need a better crisis alert system…" Turning her attention back to the two Jedi as Zherron departed, she said, "Thank you both for all of your help again."
"My pleasure, Administrator," Vrook said for both of them, and bowed. Bryony dipped into a bow beside him. As Adare returned to her seat at her desk, Vrook and Bryony took that as a dismissal. They exited her office and through the reception room out onto the front lawn of Khoonda. As they walked, Vrook observed, "You came here looking for me, did you not?"
"Yes," Bryony said, nodding.
"I admit, I did not expect to see you again after all this time," Vrook said. Any earlier hostility had faded from his voice. "It is somewhat ironic that you should be one of the last Jedi remaining in this dark time. By exiling you, we seemed to have saved you."
"I am sorry for earlier," Bryony apologized meekly, "I didn't understand what you were trying to do. I was fixated on Adare's request that I rescue you."
"And I am sorry for misjudging you," Vrook admitted. Bryony could tell such an admission of humility made the old Jedi Master uncomfortable. "Your exile has changed you, it seems."
"In some ways, yes," Bryony admitted, "But it is still true that I cannot stand by and watch innocents suffer and die."
"Now, I am not certain whether that quality of yours is a strength or a failing. The Force is clouded in these dark times, more clouded than this wound on Dantooine could ever cause alone," Vrook said. "Why did you come? Why break your exile after all this time?"
"Someone in the Republic heard I was still alive and, thinking I was the last Jedi, asked me to come speak with them," Bryony explained, "I never made it to the meeting, however. I was attacked by Sith."
"Sith? I have heard of no Sith, not since the conclave on Katarr," Vrook sounded surprised but intrigued.
"A Sith Lord and his cloaked assassins—they were not dark Jedi but they harnessed the Force somehow, feeding off of it—attacked me," Bryony explained, "I think they believe I'm the last Jedi as well."
"Strange how so many would pick an exile to represent the last of the order," Vrook commented, then his face grew more serious, "If this is true, what you say about the Sith, those assassins resemble what the Order reported in our last days. The threat still remains."
"You knew about it and yet you did not fight it?" Bryony asked with mild indigence.
"How could we fight what we could not see, what we could not track?" Vrook demanded impatiently. "The conclave on Katarr was a final effort to seek through the Force to see what was hunting us, but it failed and Katarr was utterly wiped out, taking most of the Jedi with it. Those of us that remained decided to go into hiding, hoping that the enemy would reveal itself once it thought it had won. We scattered, as it was clear that any gathering of Jedi brought danger until we knew how to fight this threat. But we miscalculated. Until now, until you drew them out, the Sith have remained as quiet as the Jedi."
"These shadowy Sith need to be defeated, and I cannot do it alone," Bryony urged, "They have revealed themselves, like you have waited for."
"It seems so," Vrook nodded pensively, "But I have no way of contacting the other remaining Jedi. It was safer for us to remain that way."
"I do," Bryony said firmly, "I met with Atris, somewhat by accident, on Telos, and she has been tracking the Jedi for years. I know roughly where to find Master Kavar and Master Zez-Kai Ell. There are others she believes yet live that I may be able to find as well."
"So Atris somehow made it out of Katarr alive as well," Vrook said, "She was supposed to have been there. I wonder what answers she has for the conclave." Refocusing his attention on Bryony, he said, "Yes, if you can find them, have them gather here on Dantooine. From here, we will plan our attack against the Sith to wipe them from the galaxy once and for all." Pausing, he added, "Well, you have a lot of galaxy to cover if you are to find the remaining Jedi, and I have an enclave to rebuild."
"Thank you, Master Vrook," Bryony said, dipping into a low bow. It was an odd feeling; one of the Jedi Masters treated her almost as an equal. He offered no apology for the past, but neither did she. For now, based on the circumstances of being fellow survivors, they had to work together.
He reached out and laid a hand on her shoulder as she straightened up. "Good luck, Bryony," he said, "And may the Force be with you."
Disciple patched the wounds of the militia and their scavenger allies as best as he could after the battle. Khoonda had supplies enough for that, at least, though the only doctor in the settlement was far away at his own homestead. The Khoonda staff assured him that they would call the doctor in for further treatment of the most seriously injured men. Having done all he could, Disciple headed back for the ship. As he exited Khoonda and breathed in the warm, dry air, he felt a growing reluctance to leave Dantooine. He dallied, slowing his steps towards the landing pad. This place had been the home of his youth, the only home he remembered. When he had first returned, the ruins shook him to the core. The destruction and emptiness gnawed at him, and he wanted nothing more than to find signs of the Jedi and then leave again as quickly as he could. It was too painful to see his former home destroyed, taking so many lives with it. Although he disagreed with core parts of the Jedi philosophy and teachings that had led the galaxy to the brink time and time again, Disciple still felt a deep nostalgia for Dantooine and the Jedi Enclave. There, he had had friends, hopes, dreams. With the wars, all of those died—or so he had thought. In the archives of the ruined Jedi enclave, where he had been searching for clues on the whereabouts of the Jedi, he found a living Jedi herself—the one Jedi whom he had once fervently hoped would one day be his master. Just thinking about it took his breath away. When he had first laid eyes on her in the dimness of the archives, he had thought he must have still been dreaming, but her voice was just the same as he remembered it: calming, compassionate, fierce, and wise.
As a boy, he had deeply admired Bryony Thuvell. He could not recall a start to his admiration for her. She had always been kind to the younger children and quick to teach them and forgive them for mistakes when the Masters were too harsh or unapproachable. That admiration grew to bursting when he and two other younglings were captured by a Dark Jedi with delusions of grandeur lurking near the enclave, and Bryony allowed herself to be captured in order to rescue them, when the Masters were too slow to respond. Six years younger than her, he had never had a chance to befriend her. As if dramatic foils to her gentle and compassionate personality, her closest friends Alek, Roan'ev, and Atris were intense and intimidating. Nevertheless, he observed her and modeled his own behavior on hers. She was the padawan he hoped to become. Soon after, she left for the outer rim with Master Kavar to investigate the early Mandalorian incursions. He heard tales of Kavar's heroics on the outer rim, and knew that the unspoken support by his side was Bryony Thuvell. By the time she returned, knighted, six years later, he was old enough to be selected as a Padawan. As she taught classes on feeling and manipulating the Force to the older younglings on Dantooine, he had fervently hoped that she would pick him as her first Padawan. Yet, nearly as soon as she had returned, Alek came to Dantooine recruiting for the war effort, and off she went again, taking his hopes with her. She never returned to Dantooine again, not until now. He was never selected as anyone's Padawan, and after Bryony Thuvell was exiled by the Jedi Council for going to war, his faith in the Jedi was shattered. He slipped away from the Order when given a chance.
In his youth, he had waited on Dantooine, hoping that she would return from the war to take him as a Padawan to the war front with her. He imagined what it might be like to fight by her side. That morning, as he watched the skirmish with the mercenaries from his post by the doors, those old dreams overtook him again. When Bryony looked almost overwhelmed, he could not remain where he was. Almost without thinking, his feet carried him to her side, and he fought with her. It felt more right than anything he had done in years. He knew with absolutely certainty that the Force and brought them both here now, and that it wished for him to follow her and to guard her.
And yet, she still did not remember him.
His feet carried him down the paved path framed by waving grasses on either side. Bryony was not far off, talking with Master Vrook. A gentle wind playing at her short hair and loose Jedi robes, Bryony looked even more beautiful and inspiring than when he first saw her in the archives, while Master Vrook seemed as forbidding as ever. Eavesdropping did not feel right, so he slowly made his way back to the landing pad. The Ebon Hawk was no longer the only ship in the enclosure. A small passenger transport was touching down beside their gray and orange freighter while the three departing scavengers waited a safe distance away.
Disciple continued to linger outside. The breeze ruffled his thick, blond hair, refreshing him. Staring up at the Ebon Hawk, he wondered how Bryony had come to own the ship. The ship that Revan had used during the Jedi Civil War went by the same name. What connection did Bryony and Revan have now? Had they remained distant friends during Bryony's exile? If Bryony knew anything about Revan's whereabouts, Carth would want to know. He made up his mind to ask Bryony as soon as he got the chance.
He did not have to wait long. Bryony soon appeared in the landing area, cloak billowing behind her in the breeze. There was a light, satisfied smile on her face. "Oh, Disciple, is everyone on board?" she asked as she approached.
"I am afraid I have not boarded myself yet," he admitted, "I've been enjoying the fresh are before confining myself to space travel again."
Bryony smiled at that comment. "A smart idea," she praised warmly. "Vrook as agreed to help us rebuild the Jedi, so we should be off in search of the next Jedi Master."
She continued moving past him towards the ship, but he tried to catch her attention. "Bryony, may I asked you something?" he started.
Bryony turned and stopped. "What?" she asked, without impatience.
"How did you come by this ship?" he asked, "Last I heard, it was the ship Revan used when she defeated Malak and ended the Jedi Civil War."
"Oh," Bryony looked a little shocked, "This was Roan'ev's ship?"
Disciple nodded, "Although she was going by the name of Evrue Pell at the time."
"I honestly don't know where the ship came from," Bryony shook her head, as if his revelations only raised more questions, "It was the ship that rescued me from the Harbinger when Sith attacked it. I never thought to ask."
"Then you haven't seen or heard from Revan recently?" Disciple asked, trying not to sound like he was pressing her.
"Not since I left the Mandalorian Wars after Malachor," Bryony shook her head. "This is the first I've heard that the ship had anything to do with her. The navcomputer is voice-locked, so we can't trace where the ship has been."
"By whom, I wonder, and for what reason?" Disciple wondered out loud.
"We may never know," Bryony shrugged, but it seemed that the mystery still nagged at her, "Thankfully the utility droid that was aboard the ship when it came into our hands can bypass the voice lock and perform navigational computations."
"Otherwise it would be unusable as a ship, it would seem," Disciple commented neutrally. The mystery of the ship deepened for him as well. Carth would want to know this, but he had little to tell, so far. The conversation wrapping up, Bryony turned back towards the Ebon Hawk's loading ramp. As she turned away, Disciple felt his spirit fall. Until that moment, he had not realized how much her attention refreshed him. Her presence was like a sun to a flower for him. He desperately grasped for anything to keep her attention for even a moment longer. Old fears welled up. He did not want to be abandoned again. His heart pounded. "Bryony, one more thing," he said quickly.
"Hm?" she turned to face him again.
Disciple felt himself relax. She was not going to abandon him again. She had invited him along, to fight at her side. It was almost like his childhood dreams, except— "I should apologize," he started. The admission fell easily from his lips, "I have not been entirely truthful with you."
"Oh? How so?" She asked, stepping closer. Her expression was one of curiosity, not distrust.
"This is not the first time I have been on Dantooine," he admitted, "I grew up here, at the enclave."
"Meaning, you were a Jedi," Bryony concluded as realization dawned on her face.
"Not wholly," Disciple shook his head, "I was raised to be a Jedi, but I never became one. With the wars, there were just not enough masters to go around. I was sent to the Medicorps, and eventually left the Order completely. I've been denying that heritage ever since."
"Then you must have been at the enclave the same time I was," Bryony realized. He could see her straining to remember.
"Before you went to war, I remember you taught us to feel connected to the universe, to hear the Force sing," Disciple related wistfully. Though he had put the Jedi Order behind him for all of his adult life, those beautiful moments of wonder were still memories he treasured, though he had forgotten how to feel the Force in that way. "I had hoped that one day you would be my master, and then you left. But now you have returned to Dantooine in search of Jedi, and so have I. I recognized you the moment I saw you in the archives." He waited for her to remember, yet no recognition dawned in her eyes.
"I am sorry that my choice to go to war affected your life so much," Bryony said earnestly.
"Don't apologize," Disciple refuted her rigorously, "Had you taken me as a padawan then, I may have been exiled or even killed in the wars. Certainly, my life has taken a path I did not envision as a child, but it has not been a bad one. I would not have become the scholar I am, had I stayed with the Jedi."
"The Force leads us all in mysterious ways," she smiled gently.
"And now it has led me back to you, here on Dantooine," he said, his confidence swelling, "Would you teach me to feel the Force again, to hear it sing? Would you be the master I once hoped for? I want to help you rebuild the Jedi Order, to renew it, if you will have me."
Bryony's smile faded slightly as she studied him. "I cannot promise to be a perfect master for you," Bryony said seriously, "I have been disconnected from from the Force for a long time. Even now it still feels somewhat distant. But I would be honored to teach you to feel the Force and use it again."
"That is all I hope for," Disciple replied earnestly, his chest felt like it was bursting at the seams. Over a decade after the dreams of a boy were dashed, those same dreams were being realized again. "I want to help you in any way I can, including taking up the life of a Jedi again, that I had left behind."
"I'm grateful for it," Bryony responded, then she brightened up with a realization, "The lightsaber parts! We have enough parts to make several lightsabers now. Come, we can start your training by constructing lightsabers." Without waiting for a response from him, she turned and led him up the loading ramp into the Ebon Hawk. They found that Bao-Dur had already laid out his collection of lightsaber parts on the workbench. The Zabrak was more than happy to explain the function of each part and how it fit in with the larger system. Gathering up the parts and odds-and-ends that could serve as hilts and the old carved wooden box, Bryony turned to Disciple, eyes dancing. "Let's go to the ruins of the enclave to—no, there is too much pain there. We can climb the nearby plateau. It should be more peaceful there."
"As you say," Disciple bowed slightly in acquiescence.
As she suggested, they slung the supplies in carry sacks across the shoulders and made their way to the plateau east of Khoonda where Handmaiden had kept watch. It was an easy climb to the top, where the breeze was stronger, yet it felt disconnected from the civilization below. They found a suitable place and sat down in the long grass. Putting aside the lightsaber supplies, Bryony instructed, "Meditate with me."
Disciple closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Meditation was something he did not give up when he left the Jedi. Although he gave up trying to meditate in the Force as the Jedi did, he still made a habit of centering himself through regular meditation. He felt the breeze play at his hair and kiss his cheeks. It tugged at his tunic and whispered through the grasses around his legs. The breeze carried the scent of the rushing stream, not far off. He felt the warm afternoon sun caress his skin, and he was at peace.
"Now reach out beyond what you feel," Bryony instructed quietly, sitting across from him, "Find the thread that connects all life. Don't try to grasp at it. You cannot. Feel it flow around you. Feel it flow through you."
Disciple opened himself to a sense he had done his best to forget. His whole being tingled with the rush of the Force around him. He felt insignificantly tiny while also immense as a planet all at once. For a moment, he was overwhelmed, lost in the currents of the Force.
"Now trace those threads," he anchored himself on Bryony's calm voice. "Feel how they connect you to me, how we are connected to the people in Khoonda, the kath hounds, even the grass we sit on."
It was difficult, but Disciple isolated Bryony from the rush of other threads in the Force. The Force reverberated around her with both incredible power and fragility. He had expected her presence to sing in the Force, not echo. The shock of the strangeness of it almost jolted him out of his meditation. Before he could move on to reaching out to other life, Bryony had already moved on.
"Now, find the hidden latch on the wooden box we brought with us," she instructed, "Open it with the Force."
The box was not difficult to find in the Force. It hummed and resonated to his inner sense. The resonance led him to what he needed to do. He gave a gentle Push in the Force and with a soft click, the lid opened. He opened his eyes to survey his handiwork. The lid of the beautiful wooden box had indeed lifted open revealing a glittering collection of tiny lightsaber crystals. "Where did you find these?" he gaped.
"In the Jedi Enclave," Bryony answered, "I wanted to save them from salvagers, for the future of the Jedi." She reached into her carry sack and spread out the lightsaber components on the grass. Disciple wordlessly did the same with his chosen pieces. "Now, find the crystal that most resonates with you. That will be your lightsaber crystal. Then, we construct the lightsabers."
Disciple closed his eyes again and probed the box with the Force. All of the crystals hummed with energy and life in the Force, but one in particular struck a beautiful chord in his mind's ear. This must be what she meant. He Lifted the crystal into the air and opened his eyes. A small crystal the color of the sky over Dantooine hovered above his lap, ready for his use. He then poured all of his focus into the lightsaber pieces. A true Jedi constructed a lightsaber without even touching it. The pieces were to be manipulated in the Force for perfect alignment. He bit his lip and furrowed his brow, sliding piece after piece together, around the crystal. Seated across from him, Bryony serenely did the same. Two partial lightsabers floated in the air between them. Disciple lost track of time as he pieced it together. The construction process was a form of meditation in itself. One mistake, and the lightsaber could explode upon ignition. He double and triple checked every step and the alignment of each part. Finally, the pommel clicked into place, and it was finished. He let the sleek silver hilt fall into his hand. As he grasped it, it felt warm, as if it was already a part of him. He finally had his own lightsaber. Looking up, he noticed Bryony staring at him with a gentle smile on her lips. A completed lightsaber hilt also rested in her hands.
"Shall we?" she asked.
Disciple nodded.
They both stood, holding their lightsaber hilts out in front of them, facing east towards the ruins of the enclave. Bryony nodded and they both pressed the switches on their hilts. Two lightsaber blades hummed to life. Disciple felt a rush of joy at the sight of the sky blue blade shimmering from his lightsaber. Beside him, Bryony's blade shone a silvery gray color. She smiled, but the smile was not for him. It was much more personal. Like him, she was truly a Jedi again.