Compared to other cities of comparable size and importance across the galaxy, Ravelin was famously safe. Security devices were ubiquitous in public places. The police were easy to contact and fast to respond to reported crimes. On Coruscant the lower levels were notorious as lawless places you risked your life just by entering. On Ravelin, and Bastion's other cities, they claimed you could wander through any dark alley in the middle of the night and feel safe. It was, Arlen thought, a lingering aspect of the Empire's old authoritarian nature, but not an unwelcome one overall.
The downside was that it made it very hard to do something and be sure you weren't being watched. The area where Arlen walked now was a neighborhood south of Ravelin's business core and popular as a night-time entertainment district for bureaucrats and professionals. Ravelin also had a reputation as being more buttoned-up and conservative than comparable cities in the Alliance, but if someone wanted to waste away a night on drinking and revelry they could do it here.
Jedi were not known for partying it up, and neither were middle-aged men with teenage daughters back home, but Arlen tried to blend in with the crowd as best he could. A dark civilian suit, carefully ruffled, conveyed the impression he was a bureaucrat looking to unwind, and he'd added some short-term dye to his beard, which had been getting distressingly gray lately.
When his contact had told him the place in which they'd meet he'd balked, but he stood outside it now, looking up at the glowing holographic sign that read Emperor's Black Bones. He knew from his mother that, a generation or two back, the phrase had been a common curse. That it was now the name of one of Ravelin's more fashionable yet affordable nightclubs was just one of many strange ironies of Imperial history.
The inside of the club was spacious, with a broad dance floor in the center beneath a shifting holo-displays of various infamous Imperials of old projected in incongruously garish colors. Arlen stood for a moment on the dance floor's edge, watching a couple of sinuous young women dancing beneath the gaunt glowering face of Grand Moff Tarkin dyed like a shimmering rainbow. The holo shifted to a plump pink Warlord Zsinj twisting his mustachios, and finally to Grand Admiral Thrawn colored a very un-Chiss-like shade of yellow-green.
He was too old and weirded out for more, so he got away from the kitsch as quickly and casually as he could. The prices for drinks were less outrageous than he'd imagined, and after purchasing a cocktail cheekily branded the Fun Crusher, he hunched over the counter and refused to look back at the dance floor. If he saw a glowing pink Darth Vader mask he'd march right out.
The spots to his right were occupied by a couple young enough to make him envious. They were pressed to close they almost shared a stool, and despite their proximity they talked loud enough for him to hear over the throbbing bass that rattled his glass every two seconds.
"See, you're not worried any more are you?" the young man teased.
"Mmmm… maybe a little," his lady friend said with a drunken giggle.
The young man pulled her tighter. "Seriously. Look around you. Does this look like a place under threat? No way. They only got the drop on us at Valc VII because that that alien captain fed 'em intel."
Arlen stiffened. He'd only talked to Davek once since Moff Veers had given that INN interview and his brother had been as mad as Arlen had ever seen him.
"Was that what it was?" the girl said. "I thought it was the Kaleesh that set it up."
"No, they were in it together, didn't you hear? And I heard some of those Yagai colonies by the border might have gone over too."
"Really? There's a Yaga in my office. He's, I mean, he's all right but they're so… Kind of stiff… Cold..."
"They're bugs, Meka."
"Yeah, but the Kaleesh, they're-"
"Savages. I hope they keep Kalee on lockdown 'cause I don't want to have to fight them."
The girl ran her hand over his face. "I saw one on the street. Yesterday, I think. It had one of those war-masks on. I didn't even realize they were still letting them walk around. I mean, how can you trust them if they won't show their faces to outsiders? How can they expect us to trust them? At least the Jedi show their faces. They fight for us, we can trust them, mostly."
"We can trust our Jedi, the ones here on Bastion, sure, but the rest? Have you seen that Wookiee they've got in charge? I remember back when I was a kid they had a human, a Skywalker, in charge, and he looked okay, but that thing they've got now looks like he'd bite your head off as soon as look at you."
It was getting very hard to resist the urge to act in a very un-Jedi-like manner, and Arlen was bracing himself to hop off the stool and correct some wrong opinions when he felt one hard tap on his shoulder. He spun around to see no one close behind him. He frowned, turned back to his half-drunk Fun Crusher, and felt a poke in his ribs. He sighed, got off the stool, picked up his drink with one hand, and looked around the crowd until he saw a very familiar face half-lit by the light spilling off the dance floor. The woman it belonged too was also a little too old to be hanging around a place like this, but she'd put on a more fashionable outfit and even run a few bight dye-streaks through her shoulder-length black hair. Their eyes met across the distance and Tamar Skirata gave him a tiny nod.
When he reached her Arlen asked, "Did you pick this place just to get at me?"
"Will you be mad if I say yes?" Her smile was tight, teasing. He was surprised how warm it made him feel.
He looked at the holos above the dance floor. No Vader, thankfully, just a spherical Death Star glowing a very bright fuchsia. As he watched he saw a tiny holographic X-wing fly away and disappear; a second later the off-color Death Star burst into a giant holographic fireball over the heads of twenty-somethings too busy dancing to notice.
"I can't take much more of this," Arlen groaned. "Can we please go?"
"There's a private corner. Come on."
He followed Tamar to a small booth that was as far away from the lights and noise as possible in this establishment. After they sat down on opposite sides of the table she asked seriously, "How are you holding up?"
He sighed and leaned forward. "As best as I can. When I wake up every morning it just… doesn't seem real."
"How your mother?"
"Fine. I think. I don't know. She's lost so much over her life I think she's… I don't want to say used to it, but she's more accepting than I'd thought she'd be."
"And Marin?" Her voice tightened.
"She's… dealing. She's scared but she doesn't want to sit around and do nothing either. Maye it's because she's scared, but she's started talking like she wants to go off and fight the enemy herself."
"Of course she does. She's my daughter too."
"Good point." Arlen looked at the table. Marin did have a streak of her mother's restlessness, but unlike Tamar she seemed to be happy at the Jedi academy. Of course, she'd been raised in it from the start and she had Vitor to train alongside, to trust and bond with. Arlen had tried to provide similar support for Tamar during the short years she'd spent on Bastion, learning more about the Force than her late Mandalorian grandfather has passed on. They'd bonded alright, in a way he should have expected, but after a few years it had become clear to them both that after a lifetime as a Mandalorian she couldn't just turn around and become a Jedi Knight. Still, seeing her again- the sharp dark eyes, the wry smile- made him wonder if maybe, somehow, they could have done things differently.
He could tell she was getting maudlin thoughts too, and to break the tension he asked, "Did you get what I asked you to?"
"Of course. I wouldn't be here otherwise." She stole a glance at the busy club, then took out a portable data-drive the size of her fist. She passed it across the table and Arlen took it. Their hands didn't touch.
"Was it hard to get?"
"It wasn't easy, but it turns out the Force can be very helpful in getting you into Imperial intelligence storehouses."
"You didn't hurt anyone, did you?"
"I didn't leave a trail of destruction behind, don't worry," she said sarcastically, but with a note of hurt. As a Mandalorian she'd be raised to fight ruthlessly and to harness her inner anger and adrenaline as fuel. She'd never been able to master the restraint that defined a Jedi Knight- either in fighting style or in ethics.
"It's all there, Arlen," she said. "Everything that the ISB has on the Kaleesh ship they captured. That includes files from its main computers as well as records from crew interrogations."
"Did you make a copy?"
She hesitated for a second, then nodded. "I wasn't planning to sell it to anyone."
"Anyone in particular or anyone at all?"
"Actually, I thought you might want me to run a hard copy over to Ossus. That way you don't have to risk beaming super-classified Imp intel halfway across the galaxy."
"You'd do that?"
"I was expecting that you'd ask."
He had planned to ask, but he hadn't expected her to accept. In her years since leaving the Jedi academy she'd had, best he knew, an itinerant life. She couldn't go back to her family on Mandalore after making an enemy of the mercenary band's leader, Gevern Auchs. She'd told him she made a pretty good living as a bounty hunter thanks to the Jedi tricks she'd picked up, but he'd always wondered what else she did to make a living.
"Thank you for volunteering," he muttered softly.
"You said that from what the battle records showed, it looked like your father died trying to help capture that ship. This is the least I could do to honor him."
"Thank you," he said again.
"Did your brother not have access to any of this? I thought a fleet admiral would."
"He's got access to some," Arlen said gruffly. He didn't want to get into this now. "However, he was ordered not to share it with the Jedi. Operational security."
"Ah." Tamar said, then added, "He has a point. Considering."
"I know. I'm not mad at him."
The look Tamar gave asked do you really think you can lie to me?
"I'd hoped he'd be more accommodating. But he's got his duty and I have mine."
"That's exactly right. So you shouldn't hold it against him."
He couldn't believe he was getting this from Tamar. When she'd lived on Bastion her relationship with Davek had been brusque at best.
"I mean it," she pressed. "He's your brother, Arlen. He's aliit. That means-"
"I know what it means." The Mando'a term denoted the most inviolable of family bonds. You could say a lot about Mandalorians, but you couldn't say they didn't value family.
And because she'd made the opening he had to make the offer. "Once you're done on Ossus, you can come back to Bastion. Use a real flight transponder with your real name. Set down in the Jedi academy and spend some time with Marin." She shifted uncomfortably and looked away. He added, "Unless you've got someplace else to be."
"No. No, you're right, I should go see Marin."
"I know she wants to see you. And given what's happening, I don't know if I'll be able to stay at the academy long or if I'll be called out to fight someplace. Marin's not going anywhere, no matter what I do, but if she has you around for a little while, I think it would help her.
She nodded, still avoiding his eyes. "You're right. I'll come back once I'm done on Ossus."
"Thank you."
She nodded again. When they'd split up Tamar hadn't objected to Arlen raising their daughter as a Jedi. She'd relinquished Marin for the same reason she was reluctant to see her now: shame. She was good at hiding it, but Tamar had never forgiven herself from breaking with her people. Arlen had told her again and again that it wasn't her fault, that she'd done the morally right thing after Gevern Auchs made the Mandalorians into pawns for a genocidal Sith Lord. But guilt was as irrational as it was strong; deep down Tamar felt she'd failed her birth family and didn't deserve another. He knew, too, that guilt and shame were part of that anger she could never surrender.
"Do you still have the lightsaber?" he asked.
"Of course," she said firmly. It was an inheritance from her great-grandmother, a Jedi of the Old Republic who'd left the Order to marry a clone soldier.
"Use it to fight any Sith Lords lately?" he asked and tried a smile.
She allowed a reluctant one of her own. "If I do, you'll be the first one to know."
"That's good. Thank you for this Tamar, really. This could save Jedi lives."
She looked back at the lights of the dance floor. "Anything else?"
"Not right now. But I'll tell Marin to expect you." It was a crude ploy but it would do the job.
"I won't disappoint her. Goodnight, Arlen. I'll see you around."
And then she stood up and slipped away into the crowd. He quickly lost sight of her, and moments later lost her track of her in the Force.
He sighed and looked down at the table. The kitschy cocktail he'd ordered sat in front of him, half-drunk then forgotten. He'd had better, but he finished it anyway. Even after all these years, after all they'd been through together and apart, he couldn't leave an encounter with Tamar unrattled.
-{}-
She was running, sometimes daring to look back but mostly she faced ahead, watching for every fallen branch or jutting root that sprung up in her path. She gasped desperately for air as she ran. Sweat and dirt darkened her face and pasted strands of messy black hair to her skin. She rounded a sharp corner, then stumbled and pitched to one side before recovering balance. Before she straightened her shoulder caught on one of the thorn-vines that wound around the high hedges. The barb ripped through the sleeve of her already-battered jacket and drew blood. Pain shot up and down her arm and twisted her face into a wince. Then a chorus of howls rose behind her, tearing her away from her pain, and she found the strength to run deeper into the maze.
As he stood in the watchtower high above the maze, Darth Terrid could feel the young woman's emotions. They bled into the Force: desperation, terror, regret, anger, hate. He knew that brew well; he'd gone through all the same feelings when the Sith had pitched him into this same gnarled hedge-maze all those years ago.
It had been one of Ran'wharn'csapla's first lessons in the power and cruelty of the Sith, so it was for Serissa Lohr. She'd already survived one encounter with a pair of strills and bore the claw-marks and shredded trouser-legs to prove it. Three more of the six-legged canine beasts were on her trail now. Serissa was young and athletic but strills were three times as fast as humans on a straight-away. The hedge maze's winding paths and sharp turns slowed the beasts down and gave the human the illusion of a chance.
When she came to a crossroad in the maze she didn't hesitate to turn left. She couldn't have seen it, but the rightward path reached a dead-end after only three more turns and would have doomed her. Perhaps it had been luck, or perhaps the Force was feeding her intuition. Terrid glanced sideways at the man next to him on the watchtower. Darth Maleth's eyes were closed as he reached out to speak to the minds of the three pursuing strills. He was the One Sith's masters of battle meditation and projecting feelings of hunger and ferocity to simple beasts was easy for him.
Serissa reached another branch-point and again chose the right path without hesitation. She had a natural talent; the Force spoke to her without her realizing it. Whether she'd be able to consciously draw its power was a different question but it was about to get an answer.
She made her last sharp turn then skidded to a halt. Before her was a simple dead-end. Hedges laced with long thorns rose high on all sides. Breathing hard she spun around as if to run out the way she'd come but the strills bayed again. They'd be on her in seconds and she knew it.
Terrid still vividly remembered how this moment had played out for him. He'd been certain his Sith captors would let the strills tear him apart, flesh ripped off bone by snapping fang-filled jaws, as agonizing a death as he could imagine. He'd felt that brew surge inside him, all the desperation and fear and anger becoming one thing: an all-encompassing need to survive. He'd felt the power in that need and drawn strength from it, no longer caring that he was embracing all his old masers had told him to deny. When the strills had come for him he'd stood his ground and fought them with his hate.
As it had been with him, so it was with her. When the strills rounded the corner into the cul-de-sac she'd braced herself for the attack. The Sith had allowed him a dull-edged vibrosword to defend himself, a shabby imitation of the lightsaber he'd been trained with. To Serissa they'd given a metal pole that she gripped from the center and spun with practiced skill. As a Hapan princess she'd been taught old forms of combat with ceremonial weapons. She had no problem converting them to lethal use and she jabbed the blunt tip forward as hard as she could, low beneath the first strill's snapping jaws and into its sternum hard enough to crack bone. Strills were tough; the animal backed away but kept on its feet. The other two were on her and Serissa spun her staff to knock both of them back at once. She took one strill in the face but the second ducked low and came for her leg. She jumped back fast, calling on the Force without thinking, but the strill kept coming. She spun her staff out and knocked it away, but the first beast attacked from the side and sunk its teeth into her calf. The girl screamed in pain even as she jammed the butt of the staff down hard, smashing the strill's skull from above. Its six-legged body went limp but its jaws still clung vice-like to her leg, pinning her where she stood.
The other animals leaped. She did her best to knock them back with her staff but they overwhelmed her. One knocked her off-balance; as she fell face-up onto the dirt her leg finally tore free of the dead strill's jaws. She held the staff up in front of her, metal hard against the strill's neck as its jaws snapped hungrily in her face. The second one circled, anxious, ready to join the kill at any moment.
"Enough," Terrid hissed, "Call them off!"
For a long heartbeat Maleth did nothing and the strill's fangs gnashed ever closer to Serissa's pain-twisted face. Then both animals jumped away, turned around, and trotted out of the cul-de-sac, almost casually.
Maleth opened his eyes. "They won't bother her any more."
Terrid knew how this worked. After his turn he'd been left in even worse shape than Serissa, with one leg gnawed to the bone and a torn-open artery in one arm. It had taken a week of bacta treatments for him to even walk.
He looked down at the former Hapan princess. She'd dropped the staff onto her chest and clutched her shaking body by the shoulders as she stared up at Shedu Maad's cloud-darkened sky. She still broadcast everything plainly in the Force, something she'd have to control eventually. Even as pain seared her body thoughts still swarmed in her head: anger at the ones who tortured her, regret at having been stupid enough to seek them out, terror that the strills might come and finish her off. Above everything else was a sense of defiant triumph. They'd tried to break her. They'd failed. She was growing stronger from her pain and knew it.
When the medicals droids arrived for her Terrid turned and followed Maleth down the twisting spiral stairs to the base of the watchtower. Darth Avanc was waiting for them, the hood of his black cloak pulled off his lavender face.
"The machines will take care of her from here," the Keshiri said.
"She acquitted herself well," said Maleth. Like Avanc, he'd been born One Sith and bore the tattoos to prove it. They were long black lines running straight down a pale face framed by long white hair.
"It seems we made the right choice," said Avanc. "Come with me, Darth Terrid. Darth Wyyrlok requires our presence."
He followed Avanc, leaving Maleth behind. There was no point in asking what Lord Krayt's regent and caretaker wanted when he'd find out in moments. He suspected he knew; they'd only spoken about Serissa Lohr once, when Terrid had brought her back from Hapes and requested the responsibility of training her. Since then Wyyrlok and the other senior Sith had stood back, watching, waiting, judging him in everything he did. He wasn't expecting any congratulations for his work so far, but he knew he deserved at least their grudging approval.
They met Wyyrlok in the great high-ceilinged vestibule where the Chagrian Sith Lord usually held court. Beyond the layered blast doors was the chamber where the Dark Lord of the Sith lay in suspended animation, his body slowly healing from damage sustained decades ago. In all his years Terrid had only seen Darth Krayt once. It was the honor granted all Sith Lords on claiming the title. Before then he'd suspected their lord and master was just a legend concocted by Wyyrlok to justify her power, but even lost in dreams Krayt had emanated an unmistakable and terrifyingly powerful aura.
Terrid was surprised to see Darth Kheykid waiting with Wyyrlok. They were an intimidating pair side-by-side, with both of their faces marked up in jagged red and black. The hornless Chagrian was barely half the size of the mighty Barabel assassin but she projected a Force-aura more powerful than any Sith that Terrid had ever met; more powerful than any Jedi he'd known, save the late Ben Skywalker. She was the second Sith to go by that name and like her father, the original Wyyrlok, she was the voice of Darth Krayt. Her every command carried his authority.
For her fierce visage and terrifying power, Wyyrlok spoke with a calm, soft voice. She spread her hands in greeting and said, "Please, all of you, take a seat."
They settled down on the floor, all four of them. Kheykid's vertical-slit reptilian eyes slipped between Terrid and Avanc and the Chiss realized that they'd called him her for something besides Serissa Lohr.
"I have mediated and consulting with Darth Krayt," Wyyrlok said. Until Terrid had seen the sleeping Dark Lord he'd not believed the Chagrian woman really spoke to him in the Force; now he didn't doubt it. "We have decided something must be done about the threat that has emerged from the Unknown Regions."
Terrid should have seen it coming; he would have if he hadn't been distracted by his new apprentice. "You want me to go out there."
"As a Chiss you know those systems better than any One Sith," Avanc said. It was clear he'd discussed this with Wyyrlok beforehand.
"I was last in the Ascendancy twenty years ago. I'd never left it before then and my knowledge of the surrounding regions was never great."
"Are you objecting?" hissed Kheykid.
Terrid knew there's be no point in that. "I will go where I am sent. I just wanted to clarify. I can't promise miracles."
"You won't be going alone. Darth Kheykid and Darth Avanc will go with you."
Kheykid he'd been expecting. Avanc was more a surprise. Like Wyyrlok, he spent most of his time on Shedu Maad and the One Sith's other hiding-places in the Hapes Cluster. For a senior Sith normally focused on leadership duties to join this expedition bespoke its importance.
"What do we know about this threat?" Terrid looked at the Chagrian. "So far all they've done is savage some Imperials. Why does it concern us?"
"These attackers are dangerous and powerful and we do not control them," said Avanc. "That alone concerns us."
If they knew more they weren't going to tell him now. "Where will we go? The Unknown Regions are vast."
"We can begin by learning all the Chiss know. You can help us with that."
He probably could; with his face unmarked by savage tattoos he would even walk among other Chiss without raising attention, though he'd feel totally foreign all the while.
"What do we want from these raiders? Allies?"
"Lord Krayt dreams," Wyyrlok said softly. "He sees a great terror coming out of uncharted space. The attacks on the Imperials are just the beginning."
"Is it a terror we can use against the Jedi?"
"Lord Krayt says…. no."
Terrid glanced at Kheykid and Avanc. The Barabel's reptilian face was unreadable as ever. The Keshiri's was grim and intent. Neither gave anything through the Force.
"So we're to scout and gather information, then come back here?"
"If you think the threat is too great, then yes." Her tone left little doubt that it was.
"Is there anything more we should know about Lord Krayt's dreams?"
"For now, there is nothing to tell. Only that you three will leave tomorrow."
Orders from Krayt and Wyyrlok were beyond appeal. Terrid tried to adjust to the sudden new reality. This dreamed-of threat was concerning, yes, but he found his thoughts kept coming back to Serissa Lohr.
"What of my apprentice?" he asked.
"She will remain on Shedu Maad and continue her training," said Wyyrlok.
"Under whom? Darth Maleth?"
"Do you object to Maleth?"
"Not at all." He chose his next words carefully. "You tasked me to train her. We agreed to it. This mission can be an excellent exercise."
"No," Avanc said. "She's barely been trained so far. She has talent but no control over her powers. We don't even know for sure how strong she is."
"She'll learn much faster on the outside, doing Sith work, than she ever would on Shedu Maad."
"We're already facing an unknown enemy. Doing so with an unknown quantity on our side is asking for disaster."
"This is to be a scouting mission, nothing more. You just said so."
"It could turn into something else at any time. If Lord Krayt is frightened by what's out there-"
"Lord Krayt is not afraid," Wyyrlok said warningly.
"You know what I'm saying," Avanc sighed, but Terrid saw indecision on the Chagrian's face and tried to come up with a stronger argument.
To his surprise, Darth Kheykid said, "When I apprenticed to Darth Xoran, I spent more time away from her, doing missions, than training beneath her. I learned more on those missions than any other time."
"You were different," Avanc said. "You were raised as Sith."
"Sith are not Jedi," the Barabel hissed. "We are not made to sit in temples and meditate. We are made to act. This princess no hatchling. She is almost an adult by human standards and seems very capable and cunning."
Avanc, outnumbered, scowled but held his tongue. Terrid felt surprising gratitude as Wyyrlok said, "I recognize your argument. I recognize all your arguments. And I think this mission is an excellent opportunity to discover what Serissa Lohr is truly made of. Darth Terrid, your apprentice will join you."
Avanc nodded, obedient. He, too, knew not to argue. Still, he said, "She had just finished running the strills. She will take time to heal."
"Not long," Terrid said. "She handled herself well and took only minor wounds."
"Will we take Intruder?" asked Kheykid.
"Yes, and you'll make sure it's stocked with medical supplies. For all your species." Wyrlokk passed a look over them. "I am sending you four on this mission to serve the Sith, not throw your lives away. Is that understood?"
"Of course," Terrid said firmly and held her red-gold eyes. "We all live to serve."
-{}-
It seemed like there was never time to mourn. When Ben Skywalker had died Allana had barely been able to make it to his memorial ceremony on Ossus, so carried away she'd been in the political groundswell that had ultimately placed her in charge of the entire Galactic Alliance. She hadn't been able to make it to Jagged Fel's memorial at all, partly because the Imperials had rushed it and also because there was so much else that needed to be done. When the news had come down from Valc VII the Jedi had been scrambling to put together a fact-finding expedition to the Unknown Regions. After the battle everything had been thrown into chaos that was just now calming enough for three teams to be sent out investigating.
Allana had insisted on going. She felt it was the least she could do to stop the beings who'd killed Jag, though it would never be enough. She'd talked to Jaina once since her husband's death. Her aunt was strong, as always, terrifyingly so. Allana wanted to be beside her now, to help the whole Fel family get through this, but as always there just wasn't time to mourn.
She tried to keep her thoughts focused on the task at hand as she sat on the floor in one of the Jedi temple's smaller meetings rooms. A single floor-to-ceiling window looked out on the dusty mountains and plains of Ossus, now tinted red-gold by the afternoon sun. The light that fell though the pane cut across the floor and shone on the pelts of the two Jedi sitting across from her: Grand Master Lowbacca and the Bothan Master Yaqeel Saa'evtu.
"The information we got from Tamar Skirata will help immensely," Yaqeel was saying. "Those Kaleesh visited four different systems in the Unknown Region that weren't previously in our charts, but with the data from their navcomputer we'll be able to get there easily."
"How much do we know about the planets themselves?" asked Sothais Saar, an older Chev master whose long white hair matched the chalk-colored skin of his face.
"The Kaleesh captain entered basic information into his logs," Yaqeel said. "It looks like they made longer-term stops of more than a standard day at two of the planets. The others were shorter stops, apparently for navigation purposes."
Lowbacca grunted the suggestion that they may have been meeting guides leading them deeper into uncharted space.
"That makes sense," Allana said, "But what are the other two planets? Supply stations? Staging areas?
"I imagine both," said Rovurn Qel, a leather-faced Weequay. "Of course, there is only one way to be sure."
Lowbacca trilled that they needed to move quickly. There was no telling how the raiders may have changed their supply chains after the battle at Valc VII.
"You're right, but I have another question," said Allana. "What about the Empire? They have the same information we do. Won't they be heading for the same places?"
"All the more imperative we get there first, before trigger-happy Imperials start blasting away anything in sight," said Saar.
"Also, we've still got an open comm line to Bastion," Yaqeel said. "Davek Fel still wants to keep the Jedi involved in this fight. If the Imperials do head our way, Arlen or one of the other knights will give us warning."
Lowbacca roared that they should set out by the coming morning. Of the three teams, one each would be going to the two supply planets noted by the Kaleesh."
"Then there's the third team," Qel said. "Grand Master, I volunteer to lead that one."
Lowbacca asked why.
The Weequay's thick brows drew together, wrinkling his forehead more. "We know nothing about the Erath except what the Chiss gave us. We know nothing about their homeworld except its location. This mission will go deepest into uncharted space and there's no telling what we might find. As a member of the Jedi Council, this should be my responsibility."
Lowbacca reminded him that as a Council member his life was all the more important.
Qel shook his head, spilling a few long braids off his shoulder. "We can't lock ourselves in temples and hide from danger. If we won't imitate Ben Skywalker's selfless bravery we don't deserve to be Jedi at all."
It was an argument none of them could counter, but it still cast a grim mood over them. Allana felt conscious that she was the only being in the chamber who hadn't been elevated to a Master's rank. Like her mother and grandmother, the duties of statecraft had taken her away from her Jedi duties too often. Still, the fact that she was included at this meeting was a sign of the esteem and trust the other Jedi held her in, and she felt the need to be worthy of it.
"Master Qel," she said, "I'd like to accompany your team to the Erath homeworld."
She could sense surprise from Yaqeel and misgivings from Lowbacca, but the stern Weequay simply nodded. "I'd be glad to have you with us."
It was easy to divide the rest of the mission from there. Masters Saav'etu and Saar were the other team leaders and they spent another ten minutes hashing out which Jedi knights would join which group. When Lowbacca admitted that his daughter Rollranarra had expressed the desire to go to the Erath homeworld Allana was glad to have her along, though she was disappointed when Saar chose Jodram Tainer for his group.
By the time the group split up the light outside the window had turned the dark wine-color of twilight. As the other Masters rose to leave Lowbacca stayed cross-legged on the floor, thinking. Allana lingered instead of stepping through the door. The Wookiee was a powerful Jedi, good at hiding his emotions, but his anxiety for his daughter still seeped through.
"You made the right choice," Allana told him. "I know you did."
Lowbacca groaned a question.
"I know a thing or two about parents being very protective of their children. In the end you have to trust them and let them risk themselves. It's what Ben did."
The Wookiee gave a low whimper. He'd never been happy with how he'd gotten his position.
"Rollra will be fine," Allana insisted. "Trust me. I'll watch her back the whole way."
He nodded his shaggy head and roared.
"No, I haven't told my mother yet. But she'll be fine too."
It was mostly true. Tenel Ka had accepted a long time ago the dangers Allana would go through. The former Hapan queen was living on Dathomir now, giving lessons to select young Jedi Knights and Witches. Time had finally taken away the warrior's physical prowess she'd always prided herself on, but she could still pass on what she'd learned, and Allana knew that her mother had found a peace with things at the end. Still, it ached in her sometimes to look at her mother and see the toll years had taken, now closer to the end she was than the beginning.
Allana looked at Lowbacca again. The Wookiee and her mother- as well as Jaina and her father- had trained together at Luke Skywalker's academy on Yavin 4. They'd been friends since adolescence. Jaina and Tenel Ka were old women but thanks to his species' long lifespan, Lowbacca was still a Wookiee in his prime, without a strand of visible gray in his red-and-brown pelt. Even Allana, on the downward slope of middle age, could tell her body didn't move quite as fast as it used to.
Lowbacca asked why she was staring at him.
She gave him a melancholy smile. "Nothing to worry about, Master. Just a little envy."
Then she turned, stepped out of the chamber, and hurried down the hall. If they were to go in the morning there was still a lot of work to do.
-{}-
It had been a long time since Jodram had seen night on Ossus. Through the window of his cabin in the guest habitat wing he could see the stars shining faintly behind the Chron Drift's luminous gases. One full moon shone in the Drift, bright and white against the dim rainbow curtain.
No second moon, not that he could see. Nights when both moons were full in the sky had always been special. Jade had always insisted on going to meditate out into the hills, where there was nothing but cold wind between them and the cosmos. Her mother Katia had died when both moons were out, and those nights had been beautiful and sad at once.
Jodram didn't want to wash the stars away, so he kept the lights off in his cabin as he patched into the Temple's communications system and sent a hail out to Fengrine. He and Jade had agreed on this precise moment to call and synchronized their chronometers so there could be no mistake. When his hail reached the communication station he knew that his wife would be there to receive it.
He was expecting to see Jade's face and looking forward to it, but when the holo sprung to life he found himself looking at not once face but three. Even through the blur of the blue holo-image he could see the quiet curiosity on Kol's and the restlessness on Nat's.
"You brought them all," Jodram observed, stupidly.
"I decided to make it a day on the town," Jade pulled the boys a little closer. "It's just before noon here."
"I remember. Nat? Kol? How are you two holding up?"
Kol just nodded. Nat asked, "How long will you be gone, Dad?"
"I can't say for sure. Days, maybe weeks, but I'll send you a message as soon as I get back to Ossus."
"Be careful, Dad," said Nat. "It's dangerous."
"Believe me, I won't forget."
He looked at Jade as he said it. Their arguments over who'd go on this mission had veered close to an actual fight. Jade had insisted she owed it to Jagged Fel, a member of her family who she'd respected very much. Jodram had insisted that was all the more reason to stay with their sons and raise them right, as Jag had his. She'd finally, grudgingly accepted, and there'd been a certain coolness in their parting. That awkwardness seemed past now; even through the holo-transmission he could feel her affection, and her gratitude for taking on this mission so she could be with Nat and Kol.
"Are you going to be on the same team as Allana?" Jade asked as she shifted Kol onto her lap.
Jodram shook his head. "She ended up with Master Qel. I'll be going with Master Saar."
"What are you going to be doing, though?" asked Nat.
"Scouting. Making contacts. Figure out exactly who'd behind this whole mess. We have intel from the Imperials and the Chiss. We're are prepared as we could possibly be."
Nat nodded like he was satisfied. "May the Force be with you, Dad."
He sounded so serious as he said it, but he was still just a child. Jodram smirked a little and said, "Thanks. The Force will be with you too. Just be patient and do whatever your mother says. I'll be back home before you know it."
"I'll make sure they contain themselves," Jade squeezed Nat's shoulder. "Say goodbye to your dad before he signs off, Kol."
The boy blinked big eyes and said, "Goodbye, Dad."
"Goodbye to you too." He searched his wife's face and silently asked if she wanted to send the kids away and spare a few words in private, but she gave no indicated. She seemed to feel that all they needed to say they could say right now, as a family, all four of them. That was just fine by him.
"May the Force be with you, Jodram," his wife said. "I'll see you on the other side."
"I'm looking forward to it already," he said and reached for the controls. "Over and out."
And with the tap of a button the connection died. The blue holo winked to nothing and he was alone in a dark empty room. He looked out the window and felt his eyes adjust to the sudden darkness. More and more stars resolved from beneath the veil.
He felt chilled for a reason he couldn't place, then shook it off as jitters. The Unknown Regions promised all kinds of potential dangers but he wasn't going alone. The most capable Jedi in the Order were being sent and he was proud to be among their number. He still wished this didn't have to be done. He ached now more than ever to be back on Fengrine with Jade and their sons. For a long time Ossus had been his home, and he'd never felt more comfortable than under these dust-shrouded stars. Staring at them now he felt like he was staring at a memory, surprisingly vivid but ultimately fleeting. His real life was elsewhere. One day soon he would go back to it. The thought gave him confidence, and it carried him into the last safe night's sleep he'd have for the immediate future.
