Disclaimer: KotOR belongs to Lucas Art and Bioware.
Chapter Thirteen
"I'm taking the tests to pass to Padawan today," Aithne informed Bastila at breakfast.
Bastila nodded. "I suspected you might soon enough," she said.
"But that would make her, like, the Jedi with the fastest training time ever, right?" asked Mission. Aithne looked at her inquisitively. "I wheedled Master Dorak into letting me read some history books," the teenager explained. Canderous, Carth, and even Bastila stared blankly at her. "I was bored, alright?" the girl said defensively. That got a chuckle from around the conference table. Six weeks of rest and talk and play with the crew of the Ebon Hawk had done wonders for Mission. She wasn't quite the same child she had been when Aithne had met her on Taris. She never would be again. Her eyes would always retain the shadow of the massacre of her homeworld. But she had regained her appetite, her voice, and much of her good humor.
"Yes, Mission," replied Bastila. "In reference to your question, should Aithne pass her tests, she will be the apprentice with the all-time lowest training time. I worry what that means for her…" she added in an ominous tone.
"Bastila, please don't lecture me on the dangers of the Dark Side," begged Aithne. "Not today."
Aithne saw Canderous smirk. The two women fought over the Dark Side more than anything else. Aithne didn't quite see the galaxy as he did, but nor did she exactly buy everything the Jedi were teaching her. A few days after she'd signed on with the Jedi, she had asked him if he had plans to go. The Mandalorian had let her know that, far from bailing, he fully intended to stick with her. He considered the Ebon Hawk to be their joint property, and now that the Jedi were training her for use in the war against Malak, Canderous was positively looking forward to going along with her wherever she was sent after training. I want in on that fight, he'd said. Aithne had shrugged. She didn't mind his company. She liked the big, violent Mandalorian. Sometimes she felt a bit guilty about how much she liked him. He certainly was no stoic Jedi pacifist. Bastila didn't like him much at all. But today, Bastila wasn't going to be difficult.
"As you wish," said Bastila primly. "You get off easy. Today." She gave Aithne one of her trademark little half-smiles. Aithne had discovered that years of Jedi training hadn't quite buried Bastila's sense of humor, and was doing her best to encourage its reemergence.
"Do you want to come with me and watch me become a Jedi?" she asked Bastila politely.
"Overconfidence, Aithne," chided Bastila. "But yes. I would find it most interesting to watch you undergo the trials."
"Anyone else?" Aithne asked. Canderous shook his head. T3 beeped something about upgrading the Hawk. Zaalbar roared his farewell. As the others left to go about their various activities, though, Carth and Mission stayed put firmly in their seats. Aithne grinned at them. Out of the Ebon Hawk's little non-Jedi crew, the pilot and the Twi'lek were the most comfortable with the Jedi, and the two people that Aithne herself liked best.
"It's always you two, isn't it?" she said. "Come on, then, Carth, Mission. Come on and welcome."
Mission grinned. Carth shrugged and shouldered his pack, which he still insisted on taking everywhere he went.
The four jogged to the Training Room. Zhar stood there waiting. "Soon your apprenticeship will end," he intoned, beginning the ritual of the trials, "and you will be granted the title of Padawan, the lowest rank of those within the Jedi Order. Yet first you must prove yourself worthy. First I shall test your knowledge of the Jedi Code. I will speak, and you will complete the sentence."
"I am ready, Master Zhar," said Aithne. And indeed she was. She had studied that Code and meditated on its meaning until she thought her eyeballs would fall out. Argued over it with Bastila, too.
"Indeed. Begin. There is no emotion;" Zhar said.
"There is peace," replied Aithne. This first precept of the Jedi was the one she had debated over most with Bastila. She had yet to come to agree with it. She did not think she ever would. While the Force brought her peace, Aithne could never seem to restrain her emotions, and she was not entirely sure why she should. The Masters themselves seemed to have difficulty with this concept; she had observed sadness in Zhar and anger in Vrook on more than one occasion. Luckily, Aithne had not agreed to be a Jedi, only to train as one to better learn to regulate the Force so she no longer used it unintentionally. She had realized this loophole two weeks into training, but she did not believe the Jedi had yet, and thought it was just as well.
"There is no ignorance;" continued Zhar.
"There is knowledge," answered Aithne. That was a statement she could not imagine disagreeing with. Any attempt to learn was an opportunity not to be passed by.
"There is no passion;"
"There is serenity." Aithne disagreed with this as well. From what she could tell, her passion for life was what had brought her to this place, and in her passion, she found a purpose that helped to maintain her serenity. But now was not the time to quibble philosophy with Master Zhar.
"There is no chaos;"
"There is harmony," replied Aithne. In spite of everything, she did believe that there was a pattern and a purpose to the universe, the Force running through it all. Even though sometimes it seemed there was no harmony, Aithne had learned, both through her training and in her life, to always find the melody beneath the cacophony.
"There is no death;" finished Zhar.
"There is the Force," finished Aithne. Zhar smiled.
"Very good. Now for your next test. The lightsaber," he began in that tone that meant he was about to lecture. "Is the traditional weapon of our Order. It is a symbol of a Jedi's skill, dedication, and authority, and each lightsaber is as individual as the Jedi who wields it. The blade is made of pure energy, focused by polished crystals in the hilt. As the second test, each Jedi must construct her lightsaber with her own hands. And now it is your time. Go. Speak with Master Dorak and he will guide you through the choosing of a crystal."
"You could have just said that, you know," Aithne retorted impudently. "You didn't have to go on at me about things I've spent the past six weeks studying." She sat back on her heel, hands on her hips, and delivered a sassy glare to her teacher. Bastila opened her mouth, shocked. Zhar, however, smiled, and waved her off. As Aithne left to find Dorak, Carth and Mission allowed themselves to smile.
"Good to know all the training hasn't changed you, Aithne," Carth said in an undertone.
"Me? Never!" Aithne cried, grinning. Beside her, Bastila frowned.
Dorak was just in the next room, apparently waiting for her. He smiled as she strode up. In her weeks at the Academy, Aithne had formed an especially close friendship with the wise old Chronicler, mostly due to their mutual love of reading. "Ah, you have come, apprentice, at Master Zhar's bidding. He sees great promise in you…" related Dorak, pausing before adding, "as do I. The time has come for you to choose the color of your lightsaber. This color also reflects your demeanor and position within the Order."
"Ok," said Aithne. "So I get a new job. What positions are there?"
Dorak smiled. "Blue is the color of the Jedi Guardian. This Jedi battles against the forces of evil and the Dark Side. They focus more on combat training and use of the lightsaber."
Aithne frowned. The Guardian sounded like a muscleman, something she assuredly was not. She liked to ask questions before she squashed people, to insure that they needed to be squashed in the first place. And she was not sure that any sentient was the living embodiment of evil or the dark side. She nodded for Dorak to continue, indicating her non-interest.
"Yellow is the color of the Jedi Sentinel," said Master Dorak, nodding at Bastila, who beamed. "This Jedi ferrets out deceit and injustice, bringing it to light. They focus less on combat and more on other skills and abilities."
Aithne liked the sound of "other skills and abilities," but she didn't like the idea of being a professional busybody and tell-tale. "Go on," she said.
"Green is the color of the Jedi Consular," finished Dorak. "This Jedi seeks to bring balance to the universe. They mediate between other groups, using their powers to end conflict and preserve peace."
Aithne felt a heat rise inside of her. Mediator. Preserver of peace. Bringing balance to the universe. She could do that. She did do that, whenever she could. She bit her lip, and looked up at Master Dorak. "I think I'd be a better Consular than anything else," she told him quietly.
"Indeed," Dorak said, "We shall see. I will ask you a few questions, apprentice, to see which color and path you tend most towards. Are you ready?"
"Yes, Master Dorak."
"Begin. A woman and her small child are beset by a desperate gang of thugs. They cry to you for help. What do you do?"
Without hesitation, Aithne replied, "I stop the thugs and find out why they are attacking her. You said they looked desperate. Maybe there is some nonviolent solution to their problem I can help them to find."
"Yes, I suspected as much. Next question. You are in combat with a Dark Jedi allied with the Sith. There is a pause in the fighting. What do you do?"
"I initiate a conversation," said Aithne. "Everyone has a story. I find out why he became a Sith and try to convince him to change his allegiance."
"Ah. Of course. Next question. There is a locked door, and your goal lies on the other side of it. What do you do?"
Aithne laughed, realizing a big part Master Dorak hadn't told her. "I knock. You never said that what's on the other side is an enemy."
"I'm beginning to see a pattern here, apprentice," laughed Master Dorak. "I have a feeling as to what you would be best at. But first, the final question. You are the head of an enclave on a contested world. The Sith have been causing chaos. What do you do?"
"I work with the planetary government to identify and stop the infiltrators," said Aithne. Suddenly, she felt dizzy, with an odd sense of déjà vu.
"Of course you do. Here's your crystal. Green, Consular Aithne. Good instincts."
"A Consular," murmured Bastila. "Consulars are among the wisest and most powerful Jedi."
Aithne was really very pleased, but she waved Bastila's words away. "Oh, stop. Really, stop, you're making me blush."
She led the others into the training room once again, and Zhar solemnly presented her with materials and sent her to the workbench. Carth, Mission, and Bastila sat down wearily on the edges of the room. Aithne focused on the materials at hand.
Some other woman's hands seemed to take over. It was all as if she'd done this before. She set the crystal, and tweaked the circuitry like she'd been doing it for decades. Aithne herself marveled at how she somehow knew what to do. She had read several books on the subject, but she had not practiced at all. She added some weight to the hilt, to mimic the balance of her vibroblades. Having done that, she decorated her lightsaber with ornate silver and bronze scrollwork, leaves and slashes and curlicues that somehow seemed to fit. Finally, maybe three hours later, she stood back from the workbench. It was finished. She lifted the lightsaber, her lightsaber, pleased with the heft of it. It was perfectly fashioned for her grip and hers alone.
Holding her breath, she switched it on. The lightsaber hummed to life, its long, pure green energy blade sliding forth from the hilt. Slowly, she strode back to Master Zhar. She switched off the lightsaber and handed it to him carefully.
He examined it for a few moments, smiling with delighted respect. Finally, he looked up. "You have done extremely well in constructing your lightsaber, apprentice. The crystal seems to have been set perfectly. It is rare indeed for that to happen the first time one constructs their lightsaber. Your lightsaber identifies you as a member of the Jedi Order," he continued. "With such recognition comes honor and respect…and the attention of dangerous enemies. The Sith and Dark Jedi will seek to destroy you, apprentice, and you must prove yourself worthy against a foe who also wields a lightsaber. Are you ready to face the final trial, apprentice?"
"What? You keep Dark Jedi around in a cage somewhere to test graduating apprentices?" joked Aithne. Zhar did not laugh. Aithne resumed her serious expression. "I'm ready, Master Zhar."
"Very well," said Zhar, his tone very grave. "For every Jedi the threat of the Dark Side is always present. You must truly understand this before you are accepted into the Order. You must see the corruption of the Dark Side for yourself. Even here on Dantooine there are places where the Dark Side holds sway, twisting and tainting nature itself. The ancient grove once used for deep meditation by the Jedi is now tainted, a wave of darkness perverts the region around it. The kath hounds in the area have become savage and ruthless. They have become a threat to the settlers, a threat the Jedi have promised to stop."
"Yeah, Canderous and Zaalbar have been out killing kath hounds almost every day," said Aithne. "It's how they get their kicks, I guess. What would you have me do?"
"The kath hounds are but a symptom of the true problem. You must journey into the grove and confront the true source of the darkness. That is your task."
There was something very odd about his wording. "Master Zhar, what do you mean by confront it?" asked Aithne. "What else do you know about this darkness?"
Zhar smiled rather sadly. "I can say no more; some things you must work out for yourself. None of the other Jedi at the Academy are permitted to help you in this task. But remember this, my young apprentice," he said, eyes full of meaning. "A Jedi acts with patience and care, and those on the dark path are not always lost forever. As long as the Dark Side taints the ancient grove, your lessons cannot continue. Stop the corruption of the Dark Side. This is your task, apprentice. May the Force be with you."
Aithne turned to her companions. "Guess you can't come with me, Bas, huh?"
"I'm afraid not," said the Jedi girl with genuine regret.
"Ok, guys," Aithne said, turning to Mission and Carth. "Let's head back to the Ebon Hawk. I want to see if Canderous might be interested in wading through kath hounds to confront the corruption of the Dark Side."
"You got it," said Carth, and the three of them left the Academy, leaving Bastila behind.
Canderous was all-too willing to go wading through kath hounds, given any excuse under the suns. Carth also wished to accompany Aithne, but Mission begged off. Canderous got ready, and in not too long a time, the three of them had set out. As the group walked through the Enclave, Aithne made conversation with Canderous.
"Do you have any more stories, Canderous?"
Canderous smiled, in a good mood because they were headed out to kill things. "Oh, have it your way." He adopted that teaching tone and manner once again. "I was one of the best youth warriors in Clan Ordo in my time," he began. "No one before me had mastered the power of our Basilisk war droids as quickly as I had. Except Mandalore himself, of course," he added hastily, and Aithne hid a smile. "In those days we were sweeping across the Outer Rim, destroying all who fought us. Young Mandalores would prove themselves in real combat with unknown opponents above a thousand worlds. Each brought back the story of his achievements."
Carth was looking at Canderous with an incredulous expression that wavered between disgust and respect. Aithne sympathized, but tended more to respect the grizzled old warrior than to be disgusted.
"What was your story?" she asked softly.
"I remember it well," replied Canderous wistfully, "orbiting high above a placid world, its defenses just stirring. As was tradition, I would go ahead of the first wave to find enemies in the thickest fighting. I remember sitting there in my armor, linked directly with the Basilisk thrumming beneath me, my heart racing with fear at the coming battle." He trailed off, lost in the memory of the sensation that he felt anew in the telling.
"What happened next?" Aithne prompted eventually.
"The doors opened in front of me and the air was sucked out of the drop bay," Canderous narrated, "scattering crystals of frozen vapor across my path. I can't describe what it feels like to look directly down at a world, falling continuously as you circle it, with barely fifteen centimeters of armor plate protecting you. When the magnetic locks disengaged on my droid I plunged out of the drop bay towards the battle that waited below."
"Wait," Carth put in. "Are you telling me you dropped from orbit riding a droid?"
"Hush!" Aithne said. Carth scowled, though on a face any less manly Aithne might have called his expression a pout.
Canderous smiled at Aithne, and continued. "The exhilaration, the euphoria, I felt as I streaked into the atmosphere, dodging self-guided projectile and beam weapons, was unmatched. An eighty kilometer plunge through the atmosphere, dodging and weaving, the outside of my armor glowing like the sun with the heat of re-entry and with barely thirty meters to spare, I twisted and skimmed the surface, firing at the giant beam generators that were in my path. The explosion from that sent shockwaves that leveled the entire complex around it. It was the moment of my life."
He ended proudly, standing even taller in the Dantooine sun just outside the Enclave in the courtyard. Aithne shook her head admiringly. "I don't know if the fight was just that good, or you just made it sound that way, but I'm impressed. If it was that good, more power to you, but in any case, your way with words is incredible."
Canderous' eyes narrowed. "It really did happen that way, Morrigan," he said. "And you'd be wise to believe me."
Carth shifted so that he walked a little closer to Aithne. "She didn't mean it that way, Ordo," he said. "She was just remarking on how well you expressed yourself. Really, it's funny. You tell that incredible story, and that's what she gets out of it." Canderous looked a little mollified, and Carth forced a smile. Aithne ran through the last words, and bit her lip, realizing what she had inadvertently done.
"Oh, Force, Canderous," she said, "I didn't mean to doubt your honor." She straightened, regaining her composure and her formality. "Forgive me for my lapse in articulation. I honor you for your mighty feats," she said carefully. Canderous relaxed.
Canderous Ordo was a Mandalorian without armor. To students of history across the galaxy, that meant not only one of the most courageous and honorable Mandalorians alive, but also an incredibly strong one. To have survived when most of his fellows had not was quite a feat, and the fact that he had no armor testified to his presence at Revan's final victory, when the hero had defeated Mandalore the Ultimate in single combat and destroyed all of the opposing army's Basilisks and armor. Not only had Canderous survived the wars, but he had stayed loyal to his cause for the duration, when so many had fled. Aithne grimaced. His honor was without question. She'd really made a stupid remark.
But apparently she'd said enough. "I'll never forget those times," he told Aithne, "But…things are different now. We can't go on fighting the way we did. There are too few of us left now. But I don't really want to talk about this anymore. I trust I've satisfied your curiosity for now?"
Aithne grinned saucily up at him. "For now," she chirped, and Carth groaned. "But you know I'll be back!"
"Have it your way," Canderous growled, not amused. "Can we go crush some kath hounds now?"
The three companions were barely fifty yards out of the compound before they were set upon by the first group of kath hounds. After the first three skirmishes, Aithne was fairly well frustrated.
"Will the pests, to use a favorite phrase of a certain Twi'lek, just die already?" she said, tucking an errant strand of sweaty hair behind her ear. Carth chuckled, recalling Mission's favorite battle-cry. Canderous looked at Aithne in bafflement, completely confounded that anyone should not like to be killing kath hounds all day, every day.
It was slow, it was painful, but eventually, Aithne and her companions reached the formerly sacred Grove.
"How does one go about detecting, locating, and stopping corruption?" Aithne panted lightly, not really expecting an answer.
"You could, I don't know, try using those senses that the Jedi have been hammering into you for six weeks," Carth suggested wryly.
"But that's just a suggestion," added Canderous, amused.
Aithne glared at both of them, and they just smiled innocently back at her. Or, rather, Carth smiled innocently. Canderous' scarred face looked like something out of a nightmare when he was trying to look innocent. "Now, do you two really want to antagonize a Jedi?"
"I wouldn't mind," Canderous said, almost eagerly.
But Carth just looked back at her placidly. "You won't do anything," he told Aithne. "You're a Jedi. The Masters would disapprove if you maimed us, and they'd talk at you for hours."
Aithne scowled at him. "I've never been too interested in being the good-girl Jedi," she growled. "That's Bastila's gig."
"You still won't kill us," Carth said. "You'd miss us too much, beautiful."
Confound him, Aithne thought. "Ignoring you!" she sang. He was right, though, as annoying as he was being about it. She looked away, reaching out with her feelings for the source of the corruption. She closed her eyes, and turned her head slightly.
She opened them again after a moment, and pointed to the east decidedly. "We need to go that way."
"After you, Fearless Leader," Carth bowed. Aithne stuck her tongue out at him. But she indeed started out, focusing hard on the source of the disturbance in the Grove.
So hard was she focusing, that she didn't notice the Twi'lek Jedi Knight in her path until she looked up to find him blocking it. He studied her impassively, and Aithne sighed inwardly. He obviously wanted something.
"Apprentice, your arrival here is well timed," he said as she drew nearer.
"I could have guessed you were going to say that," Aithne told him. "Who are you and what do you need?"
"I am Bolook, a Jedi from the Enclave," the Jedi said importantly. "I do not wonder that you have not seen me before. The Masters have kept you busy. But I know who you are, Aithne Morrigan. The whole Enclave knows of your talents. I was sent by the Jedi Council to investigate a killing that took place here a few hours ago. Communication does not pose a problem, as both the subjects and I speak Basic and Huttese. I was going to handle this case myself, but as soon as I sensed your presence here I thought that this could be an excellent opportunity for you to demonstrate how well you have been learning your lessons at the Academy. Though you are not yet a full Jedi," he said condescendingly, "perhaps you could assist me in sorting out the truth from the lies."
"You wouldn't consider moving and actually handling the case yourself?" Aithne asked, without much hope.
The Twi'lek missed the point. "I could," he said, "but I would be forced to report your refusal to the Council. They might see it as incapability on your part."
"Oh, for the Force's sake don't sic the Council on me," Aithne cried out, exasperated. They'd talk at her for hours! "What do you want me to do?"
Bolook smiled in satisfaction. "Listen to the stories given by the suspects. I have brought an information retrieval droid with access to the archives both at the Jedi Enclave and the planetary capital. I will use my wisdom and experience to offer you some guidance, but I will not solve the case for you. There is little benefit if you do not solve the problem yourself."
"There is little benefit to whom?" Carth asked in an undertone to Aithne. She gave a tight grin in response. He was quick, Carth. Bolook continued his lecture.
"Consider each man's account and check the facts with the information droid. Once you have gathered all the evidence you think you need, run through the possible scenario with me. If you are unable to come up with a satisfactory resolution, then I will take these men to the Enclave and deal with this myself. According to the accounts of the participants, these three men," here he gestured to a corpse just beyond him and two other living men, "were out here in the field together earlier, before the clouds broke. I find that very odd, for most people would seek shelter indoors when the sky is filled with dark storm clouds as it was earlier today. But that is not the most puzzling aspect of the case. The dead man, Calder Nettic, was shot in the back with a blaster rifle. A rifle was found lying near his body with blood stains on it. It has been sent back to the Enclave for analysis. Two other men were found at the scene when I arrived. One was Handon Guld. He was unarmed. The other was Rickard Lusoff, who was carrying a hunting laser. Both men say they did not do anything, and that they came across the body. But both men also accuse the other. Obviously there is more to this than what we have been told."
"And you're stumped and want me to figure it out for you. You reckon I can, because you've heard of my reputation," Aithne said flatly. Bolook stiffened. Aithne rolled her eyes. "Don't worry, I won't tell the Masters. I wouldn't wish a Council lecture on anyone, even someone that got in my way and decided to waste my time bullying me into solving a problem for them." She faked a cheery smile at him and saluted sarcastically. "Aithne Morrigan, reporting for duty. Carth, Canderous? Do you mind investigating for a while?"
"Still more than we've been doing for the past month," Carth shrugged.
Canderous grunted noncommittally. Aithne took it for acquiescence and turned back to Bolook. The Jedi was trying not to scowl at her. She smiled even more brightly. If he wanted her to do his homework, he deserved every annoyance she gave him. "Anything else I should know?"
Bolook hesitated. Aithne could tell he halfway wanted to see her fail now; she'd made him rather angry. But he looked at the dead body and his better instincts won out. "There is one last thing," he admitted. "When I arrived, Handon was holding his side, and Rickard was favoring one of his legs. Remember that. I sense it will be important as we progress through the case."
He was trying to save face. "Can it," Aithne told him tersely.
"If there is anything else you need, I will remain here while you question the witnesses," Bolook said, with as much dignity as he could muster, under the circumstances.
Aithne walked over to one of the men to begin the questioning.
A/N: Ah, this takes me back. My very first post on fanfiction ended here. I opened my account and published the first thirteen chapters of Edge of Light and Dark (in its entirety it's over 600 pages and 46 chapters long- it deserves the italics) the first night, without much revision or any staggering. It wasn't a serial; it was almost a novel in itself. I've learned a bit since then. By the time I post this I'll have revised at least five chapters ahead. Someone voted for both the trial and the Matale-Sandral feud. So I'm going to post them both. Enjoy! (And even if you don't, leave a review telling me what to improve)
May the Force be With You,
LMSharp