The last thing I'd expected was a welcoming committee.

For Bastila, I could understand it - she was a powerful young Jedi with a unique gift, the last great hope for their Order holding us off. Granted, with Malak in a rage over my death and myself absent, Sith strategies would probably be faltering right about then.

But they didn't say more than a few words to Bastila. They came right for me.

"Melar Serav, welcome back!" proclaimed a dark-skinned human, clapping my shoulder jovially. "Are you doing well?"

"Eh, yes?" I replied, neither identity prepared for this bizarre camaraderie.

"Wonderful. I trust you rested during your trip back?"

"Yes," I replied again, even more confused. I slipped into Melar's set of memories to see if there was any mention of the Jedi Council personally interacting with him, but there was no foundation there which suggested any such thing.

"Masters," Bastila said, stepping forward with an extravagant bow. "There have been some developments you should be aware of before we continue."

"Very well," said a small long-eared Jedi. He motioned us to follow, and the contingency of Masters turned to lead us down into the Academy.

I'd been here once before, when Malak and I first discovered. . . when we. . . it was important, and brought us here, though I couldn't quite bring the details to mind. But this time I was escorted straight to the Council room itself, where the masters took their seats and motioned for Bastila and I to stand before them.

"Melar has a Force connection to my mind," Bastila said without preamble. "When we were separated on the Endar Spire, he spoke directly into my mind, seemingly effortlessly."

"Indeed?" inquired a twi'lek Jedi. "How unexpected. Otherwise, though, did he perform as anticipated?"

"There was little opportunity, Masters," Bastila said. "We were ambushed almost the moment we exited hyperspace. He was able to commandeer a Sith shuttle to escape in, as well as obtaining the ship's access codes and reverse-engineering them somehow to calculate the Sith departure codes."

That elicited raised eyebrows or other expressions of surprise from all the Masters present.

"Melar has no skill as a code-breaker," the pale human grumbled. "I'm sure you were mistaken."

"My resume—" I began, but cut off when everyone stared at me as though I'd committed some terribly shocking social taboo by speaking.

"Resume?" the twi'lek asked. "Padawan Bastila?"

"He has developed a number of independent traits," she said. "Code-breaking, a fear of Jedi mental powers, an admiration for Revan, and this nonsense about a resume among them."

"And you say he is connected to you in the Force?" asked the short creature.

"You do realize I'm standing right here?" I asked, starting to get irritated. "You could ask me about myself, not her."

They gave me that uncertain expression again, and I frowned back. "I may have signed on for your escort mission, but that doesn't mean you have the right to treat me as a child."

The short Jedi laughed, though the others did not seem amused.

"It seems the Force has a sense of humor."

"Is that so, Master?" Bastila asked, finally sounding confused herself.

"Melar is an independent being, and he is right. We ought not speak as though he were a child, though in truth it may be a more apt description than he knows."

Indeed. If not for the remains of years of adult experience, I may as well have been a child. They'd certainly left gaps large enough to fit my entire childhood into.

"I apologize," continued the small Jedi, "to you, Melar, for treating you as unimportant. As we are all one, in the Force, we all deserve the same recognition as brothers and sisters together. Whatever your past, or origins, you are an equal with us now and that is what matters. I beg your forgiveness."

Wow.

"Of course," I replied graciously. "Um. . . I don't know your name."

"I am Master Vandar," he said. "I see that you have forgotten. I'm sure your mind will settle and stop losing information soon. These are Master Vrook," the scowling pale human, "Master Zhar," the twi'lek, "and Master Dorak," the dark human.

"Masters, I am concerned with the future of this plan," Bastila said the moment the introductions were completed. "Melar has a very strong connection to my mind. Is that going to be the case with all of them?"

All of them? My heart nearly skipped a beat. How many prisoners did the Jedi have? Were they going to convert all my subordinates into obedient Jedi followers? None of my underlings, excepting maybe Malak and one or two others, would have the ability to resist the Dantooine Jedi should they attempt with concerted strength to rewrite their memories.

I'd survived only by luck and stubborn determination, and even then I was missing large portions of myself. If the Dantooine Council had discovered a way to reliably convert strong Sith to their mindset by force, it was a complete galaxy-changing discovery. I had to warn Malak.

Prediction: Jedi tactics were about to shift dramatically, away from spreading themselves thin to protect planets, and toward moving in concerted groups. Capturing and subduing powerful Sith so they could be converted.

The rest of the galaxy no longer mattered. The Jedi had finally learned to do whatever necessary to win.

Dantooine was the Jedi Order's Malachor.

What I'd been trying to do for so long, with only the most limited success, they'd accomplished. The fact that I was the first (was I first?) subject of this new program seemed irony of the highest order.

"I expect it will be so at first," Dorak said. It took me a moment to reorient to the conversation. "We will learn more as we proceed. You will not be the one to whom they are all tied, of course. You were needed at first for your natural strength, but now the concept has been proven viable we can carry on ourselves from here."

So I was the first. And they were casually discussing more. For once, I was glad of my inability to control the Force, because if I'd had even a scrap of connection remaining I'd have been crushing the life from them without care for the fact that I stood in the heart of their strength and would be cut down in moments.

I reached out, flung my mental reach as far as I could stretch, in every direction. Trying to feel for any others of my followers. But it was useless; so many Jedi covered and subsumed any hint of Dark Side energy, leaving me only with a very accurate mapping of all the Force-sensitives in the enclave and village nearby.

So many. Even here, at the most remote reject of a temple, dozens of students, dozens of Jedi. And these four masters who sat before me, casually discussing the subjugation of my underlings.

Resolution: As soon as I'm reunited with Malak, Malachor must become my top priority. I'd spent too long experimenting, not enough time in concerted effort to understand the power beneath what I'd accomplished. Taking too long on the 'what' and not enough on the 'how' and 'why'.

Secondary Goal: Obtain any and all research on mental techniques that this enclave may hold.

My primary objective remained my Force bond, but the mental techniques of the Jedi were a very close second. If this was their new tactic, I had to be prepared - we had to be prepared - to meet them on the same footing.

The Jedi Order destroyed my life and tried to reshape me to their will.

I would do my best to return the favour.

Author's Note:

Early update for July, since I'm taking the month off for Camp Nanowrimo and to try and get my writing mojo back in gear. Next chapter should be ready for August 5, as planned.