Chapter 1
Pride
Coruscant – Jedi Temple: 10 years BEFORE ODER 66 (Before Order 66)
The twenty younglings, all eleven or twelve years old, shuffled into the Jedi Atrium. Their eyes were used to the grandeur of the Jedi Temple Great Halls, but this was a room they'd never seen before. Twenty Jedi Masters lined the walls of the large circular room. Master Obi Wan Kenobi stood in the center of the room, arms crossed casually behind his back. A serious look settled into his face.
"Welcome Younglings! Today marks a big change in your training. Your instructors have all given you passing evaluations that will allow you to become Jedi Padawans and choose a Jedi Discipline. You have been taught the basics of these Paths, but today, you will be evaluated on multiple levels and multiple scenarios to determine your own Discipline. Today's Padawan Tests will end in the pairing of you with a Jedi Master of the appropriate Jedi Path that best suits you.
"Now, each Youngling will introduce themselves to all the Jedi Masters behind me. Try to remember, you may have already met or know these Masters, but for our purposes, talk to each Master about their Jedi Disciplines of Guardian, Sentinel, or Consular. Even if their path is not one you would choose for yourself, have an open mind. Jedi Masters; there are conference rooms for private meetings and discussions if you need them along the back wall. Each Padawan may have their own desires about which Path they want to serve but the choice of Padawan is yours. Choose wisely. We start the scenarios in two hours."
The tallest boy in the group of Younglings looked confidently around the room. His eyes drilled into his one and only choice of Master, Jedi Master Taron Malicos Guardian. Not that Macen had a choice in who would be his Master; all he could do is sell himself and his passions. His passion was the same as Master Malicos however and that was what he was going to impress upon him, his love of the Guardian Path. The White Knights, the Slayers of the Sith, the Ancient Jedi Army of Light! To be counted in their ranks was the greatest glory a Jedi could achieve, in his young mind.
He had secretly hoped that Master Kenobi would be his master but he already had Anakin Skywalker as his Padawan. Skywalker was a few years and Padawan groups ahead of him, age-wise, but light years beyond him with the Lightsaber and in control of the Force. He wanted to be jealous, but he respected Anakin too much, from afar. Now, Master Malicos was the next best thing. Macen had heard rumors that Malicos was a rogue Master and took after Qui Gon Gin and other Masters who tossed their nose up at the old Rules and Jedi Ways. How exciting!
He strode confidently towards the powerful looking Jedi. Macen's speech rolling through his mind…
"Master Malicos! I am Macen Towbur and I have spent all my free time practicing your Lightsaber Forms and studying your training holos. I would be honored to demonstrate my studies at your convenience."
He imagined the two of them slicing their way through hostile forces commanded by an evil Dark Lord of the Sith or some bounty hunter scum lord in a back water planet bar. Taking them down with his own power and sense of justice with the great Jedi Master Malicos smiling at him in pride….
Master Malicos was leaning against the back wall, looking around in almost a bored fashion. He was in his mid to late 30's, about six feet in height. His long blond hair was thinning and greying on the top. His arms were crossed in almost a defiant gesture of "Come impress me", which was exactly what Macen intended to do
About fifteen feet from the Master, a small female Youngling, almost half of Macen's size, with long black hair, and green skin, stepped up to Master Malicos and bowed. She began talking to him in a very animated way. It was Valora, his nemesis and rival.
From Day One of Lightsaber and Fight training, she was always there, a thorn in his side. Showing him up and making him feel like a big slow dumb oaf. Although she was half his size, she was twice as fast and twice as reckless. She didn't have the power he did but instead, deadly accuracy. Valora could hit him in any pressure point on any part of his body she wished. She also fought as if she had nothing to lose, whereas he had it drilled into from the start to be in control of his greater size and strength. The worst part that was she was always smiling at him. He could feel her sarcastic smirk burning into his back after every take down, after every practice saber fight. No other Youngling or trainer could get him so emotional over his losses.
He worked very hard to control his emotions on sparring days where Valora was matched against him. Wherever he went, there she was, laughing at him, as if mocking. He purposely kept his distance from her between training sessions, not wanting to vent anger, show himself as weak and uncontrolled. Thankfully, his Youngling group was big enough for him to purposefully separate himself from her for the last three years.
He knew Valora was also interested in becoming a Jedi Guardian, why wouldn't she be? She had the skills and she talked of little else during sparring sessions to anyone who would listen. She was one of the best swordsman and fighters in his group…..but so was he. Now she was stealing his last chance at becoming a Guardian Jedi Padawan of the great Master Malicos. Macen increased his pace towards Malicos. To his horror, the small Youngling led the Jedi Master off to one of the private meeting rooms along the back wall. He was missing his chance!
"Master Malicos? Master…." The door to the room shut as Macen reached his hand for it. The lock slammed, his hopes dashed. He stopped walking and stared at the door when a large green hand dropped on his shoulder.
"Ahh Youngling Towbur, have you considered the Jedi Consular Path? I've had my eye on you for a while and I can see the potential of having a large intimidating Force along for long diplomatic talks." The voice chuckled to himself at the double meaning of the sentence.
Macen slowly turned around. He didn't need to see the face to know the name attached to the hand.
The voice continued without pause, "Sorry, diplomat humor, but seriously, that would be most helpful, especially during the long boring kind of talks, which we never seem to run out of. I would say since you are this big as a Youngling, it stands to reason that you'll be twice your size come adulthood. That would tend to impress, or intimidate the other side of any table that we're at…." he said eyeing Macen up and down
"Master Fisto! I was just actually hoping to talk to Master Malicos; I think I see him over there…." Macen tried to pull away from the iron grip on his shoulder. Consular or not, Master Kit Fisto kept in shape, and with that grip he could pull fangs from Rancors for a living.
"Why run off so fast Youngling Towbur? I think you would make an excellent Jedi Consular, it would really round out your training…" A dead pan look in his eyes told Macen he was not kidding around.
Macen was almost in a state of absolute panic. If he was conscripted as a Padawan Consular now, he wouldn't get the chance to change his Discipline until he was made Jedi Knight. This was becoming a bad situation quickly. He stumbled for words but nothing came out. He cocked his head and saw Valora and Master Malicos step out from the room and actually shake hands. She bowed, turned and skipped off grinning largely. Inwardly, Macen's bowels felt loose. This was very bad.
There is no emotion, there is peace.
That tenant of the Jedi Code never seemed more appropriate than now. With a quick twist of his body and a half turn, Macen relaxed his whole body, untied the belt holding his outer robe in place, dropped the floor in a crouch, force sprinting nimbly between the people in the crowd, leaving Master Fisto holding his robe. He dove behind a column on the other side of the room, hiding and watching out for the Jedi Master with green skin and tentacles on his head.
Master Fisto shrugged at the now empty robe in his hand and walked over to Master Kenobi. He tossed him Macen's outer robe. "That's ten credits you owe me Kenobi, I told you the biggest kid wouldn't become a diplomat" he said with a smile on his face.
***10 hours later***
The single file line of exhausted Younglings shuffled slowly out of the circular conference room, past the pits and arenas. They had just stressed, sweated, bled, and been pushed like never before. Since all Jedi Paths were represented in these discipline tests, all students faced tests against their strengths and weaknesses. Both physical, mental, and in skills in the Force were thrown at them. None felt happy about their performance. Macen brought up the rear of the line, weary but not as bad as the others.
"Macen" a voice from his right called out.
Macen was surprised to see Master Malicos leaning against the same column he himself was hiding behind earlier in the day. Malicos was holding Macen's discarded outer robe.
"You dropped this."
"Uhhh…..thank you Master." Macen took the robe and started to say something but thought twice of it. Supplicatory was not an acceptable way to get what you wanted as a Jedi. He turned to leave.
"So Macen, you should be mindful of your environment, it will sneak up on you if you don't pay attention. For a matter of fact, I would be downright praising her right now"
Macen's face was lost in confusion,"…Her?"
"Youngling Valora!" Malicos almost shouted in exasperation.
"She came to me before these tests and told me you were the best Youngling to become a Jedi Guardian of all the classes. Coming from her that was high praise. That recommendation almost convinced me to make you my Padawan right there…along with your performance in the tests today. Of course, noticing her attachments to you sooner as a friend instead as a rival would have doubled my opinions of your intelligence, but, there's time for that later. You really should pay closer attention to those around you. I think a 'Thank you' to Valora is in order?"
Macen smiled but then stopped, "Yes I guess it is but, you said 'Almost become your Padawan'?"
Malicos looked around to see if any was listening
"As soon as I saw your escape from Master Fisto, I knew you'd never be tempted by the slippery ways of Jedi Consular diplomacy…too bureaucratic. The Jedi Guardians are about doing, not just talking. So…Good initiative and great moves! Just don't tell Master Fisto I said that. Get some rest; you are going to need it… Padawan."
Macen stood in absolute disbelief, holding his robe as master Malicos walked away. He reconsidered Valora, a small grin spreading on his own face.
Coruscant – Ground Level: 8 years BEFORE ODER 66
The two robed and hooded figures stood in the rain, intently watching the bar doors across the street swing open and closed. The larger of the two shifted from foot to foot, cold and trying to keep the blood flowing in his legs.
The shorter robed man sighed and dropped his head in frustration.
"Macen. What are you doing?"
"I'm cold master and my boots are soaked…just trying to keep warm."
"Ahh I see. Since this is your first stakeout, I'll fill you in on how this works. You see, we are waiting here for….?"
Macen groaned inwardly…..not this endless repetition of the plan again….
"Kaleb Gurns…to come out of the Sochi Club across the street" Macen tried very hard to keep the eye-rolls out of his voice inflections.
"Good! And we are waiting for him out here, why?"
"….So we can quietly follow him back to his hidden base of operations and catch the rest of his arms dealing friends"
"Excellent! Now, this is the most important question. What is going to happen if he walks out and sees you bouncing around in the rain like a drunk Gungan?"
"…He'd …..probably notice that…."
"Right again! You missed your calling as a Jedi Consular, with all those right answers. Now use your brain to still your body. Be one with the Force."
Macen stopped bouncing back and forth immediately. The 'Consular' remark wasn't a bluff. Master Malicos knew all his buttons and exactly how to control and manipulate him and push them. He quickly learned on his first several missions that being a Jedi Guardian was more than fighting sun up till sun down, lightsabers flaring. More often than not, it was a lot of observing, watching, waiting, investigating, and more waiting. And then, waiting some more.
He tried to center himself in the Force. It was difficult. The freezing rain was now penetrating his outer robe and sliding down his back. A combination of ice and slush was forming on the front of his robe. He would be growing gills, he soon suspected, and then he really could be a drunk Gungan. At least then he could legitimately move to keep warm.
After five minutes, Macen asked, "Master, why are we not just going in there, grabbing him and Jedi Mind Warping Gurns into telling us the information we need?"
Malicos held a hand to his face and muttered to himself under the roar of thunder. Ok. We're doing this now, then.
"You know what, Padawan, you are correct! This is taking too long! I want you to go across that street, open those doors, march in there, and in the name of the Jedi of the Galactic Republic, apprehend Kaleb Gurns"
Macen turned to look at Malicos suspiciously.
"Master, you are serious?"
"I am serious as a heart attack. I am personally giving you my authorization to run point on this operation and get our man. Now, go before I change my mind." Malicos waved his hand at the bar dismissively.
Macen grinned wildly and pulled out his lightsaber.
"I won't let you down Master!"
Macen ran across the street, stopped and cocked his head back with a questioning, second look at Malicos.
Jedi Master Malicos raised his hand again in a "Go Ahead" gesture
"Be right behind you! I'll cover your back!" Malicos shouted behind cupped hands over the rain.
Macen nodded and turned to push in the doors. He barged in between the swinging metal doors.
Malicos waited on the corner in the rain. He checked the time on the holo on the building on the next building over. He waited.
After about ten minutes, the sound of multiple blaster shots and screams erupted from the bar. A chair crashed through the window and a body immediately after it. A large Nemodian stumbled through the bar doors carrying his severed arm with his good arm and wandered down the street. More blaster fire. What sounded like a thermal detonator went off. More screams. Lightsaber cutting through more flesh and steel.
Master Malicos shook off the rain from his cloak and wiped the ice rain from his face. He started walking across the street. None other than Kaleb Gurn, in all his glory, ran out the door blaster drawn, and shooting back into the bar swing doors.
Malicos walked up behind him and hit him in the back of the neck with his light saber hilt, knocking him out. By the time he had the electro cuffs on him, the shooting from the bar died down. The screams remained. Macen stumbled out of the bar through the swinging doors, his robe burned in four places with blaster holes. He had a bloody nose, his hair was burnt in the front coif. He had dark soot all over his face and the look of murder in his eyes.
He stopped immediately when he saw Malicos meditating and sitting on the back of Kaleb Gurns on the ground in cuffs.
"Wha…how….WHY didn't you back me up in there? I almost DIED!"
Malicos stood regally and said, "There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. Now you know something you didn't know before and THAT….. is your first lesson Padawan Jedi Guardian; Wait or be the bait."
He walked over to Macen and patted him on the shoulder.
"A few more missions like that one will get that impatience right out of you, won't we? Good job flushing him out! You can stay here and interrogate all these patrons – without the Jedi Mind Warping. You can do this until you find some answers on his illegal arms ring."
Malicos smiled at the open-mouthed Macen and dragged Kaleb Gurns down the street to their speeder, whistling a merry new Tatooinian tune.
Planet Mimban – Mimbanese Village 7 years BEFORE ODER 66
Macen jumped from the shuttle's side door into the dank air and onto the muddy soil, after Master Malicos had jumped out.
It was his first off-world mission. He was nervous. Three Jedi Masters had been called into quell the unrest on the planet between the Mimbanese natives and the Mining Guild. There had been two attempts at sabotage of the mining refinery, one indigenous native killing, and a rudimentary bomb discovered close by the current negotiation grounds. Macen's nervousness wasn't due to the mining disputes. Valora would be here.
There is no passion, there is serenity. The Tennant stuck in his head. He tried to center himself.
He'd never forgotten her act of kindness towards him at the Padawan selection tests. He'd also had a lot of time to reflect on his relationship towards her before that. Looking back, he realized she'd liked him, not hated him, and probably thought of him as more than a friend. His embarrassment of his own treatment of her was only overshadowed by what her past affection would mean on this mission.
Macen also couldn't get her out of his mind. It had been three years since he'd last seen her and he'd grown a lot. He'd developed in the Force, in his maturity, and most awkwardly, his body was in the beginning of human puberty. His voice had deepened but yet still cracked. What if his voice cracked in front of her? He was fifteen standard years old and the female form was ever present in his mind.
It was like a spell by a Dothamir Witch had been cast on him. When he brought it up to Master Malicos, he'd been given a bottle of lubricant told: "Use your hand to relieve the pressure. Check the holos if you need further direction."
It wasn't said in mocking or chiding tone, just as a factual aspect of the Jedi life, as much as eating or relieving one's bowels.
The Jedi Code was specific: No attachments. Personal intimate relationships were not permitted, especially between two Padawans. Celibacy was his life from here on out and he'd better get used to it. It didn't stop the wet dreams, and those happened almost every night for the past year. He spent a lot of time practicing with the lightsaber until the awkward emotions and feelings left.
Now, he'd be seeing her again, in the flesh.
Jedi Master Malicos marched into the Republic Base Camp. He walked right up to the large tent surrounded by Galactic Troopers, dressed in deep blue robes and helmets with black eye slits. They acknowledged his presence with a curt nod. He ignored them. They carried eight-foot spears and stood motionless. The ancient order of the Senate Guardians were sent as bodyguard protection service when Senators of the Galactic Republic travelled to hostile situations. This time they were here for Senators Bail Organa of Alderaan, and Mas Amedda, Assistant to Chancellor Palpatine.
The Jedi Briefing papers on the flight had been specific on the situation. The Hyperbaride ore that was mined here was an irreplaceable component of many critical substances, one of which was Hyper Drive Fuel, a combination of Coaxium and Hyperbaride. The Galactic civilization they lived in could not run without it and this planet was only one of three known sources of hyperbaride. This level of scarcity of such a vital substance had tended to trump the local inhabitant's galactic rights in similar disputes in the past.
Since the Mimbans were sentient but not able to achieve light speed or even space travel, they had no planetary representation in the Galactic Senate. Their technology was pre-industrial Age at best. They were intelligent, loyal to their tribes but had no interests in a global political system. They were amenable to the local mining if it did not affect their daily lives. The recent Mining Guild recent expansions had breached their boundaries and started causing drastic and detrimental environmental changes. They'd fought back with low-tech guerilla warfare tactics until a tribe member was killed by the Mining Guild Security forces. It was now getting to the boiling point. More than one Miban tribe was threatening to join a coalition of tribes to defend their lands.
Since the Mimbans were the dominant sentient species on the planet. The Senate had deemed it worthy to send a proxy representative for them, Senator Bail Organa from Alderaan. He was a known sympathizer with refugee's plight from several conflicts on other worlds and was generally well-respected. The briefing papers had been unclear on Senator Amedda's side of this situation, but it was thought he was pro-Mining Guild interests.
The Jedi had sent Masters Malicos, Fisto, and Shor to represent the security and continuity of the negotiation due to its vital role in future space travel. The Jedi would be affected greatly by reduced or non-existent hyper space travel as well as anyone else. Master Kit Fisto was a Jedi Consular and there to mediate between Senators Organa and Amedda. Malicos was there to make sure the Security forces were coordinated and in control of a Jedi Guardian Master. Jedi Master Urac Shor was there as backup for both Jedi Masters, as Jedi Sentinels tended to do, as well as come up with ways of dealing with problems. All Masters had brought their Padawans with them.
Master Fisto's Padawan was Nahdar Vebb, A Mon Calamari Force Healer and passionate Galactic Republic supporter. Even though political siding wasn't encouraged by the Jedi, as they are supposed to be impartial, zeal for the Republic was never stamped out. His desire to strengthen the Republic was often overlooked.
Jedi Master Urac Shor was considered one of the best Jedi Sentinels alive today. His resolution of the Mandalorian incursion into Galactic space was still talked about in holo-documentaries. He'd pulled more than one difficult situation out of the fire on more than one occasion with wit, insight, and adaptability. It was said amongst the Jedi Council that his fame was only rivaled by his ego. He'd brought his Padawan, Valora Murr.
Macen followed Malicos into the tent where the "negotiations" were in full speed. All Masters, both Senators, a mining guild representative and a Mimban were crowded around a large table, shouting and pointing fingers at each other. Senator Amedda stood at the head of the table, silent and arms crossed.
"If you place your refineries on the OcMal river, you will kill off at least five Mimban villages and their clans!" Senator Organa was shouting at the Mining Guild Member. "Do your profit margins have no moral's?" He slammed his hand down on the large map for emphasis.
The Mining Guild representative held up his hands in mock surprise, "And how did you and your precious morals get to this swamp in order to mock me? Was it on a hyperdrive-equipped star ship? If we don't refine it there at that river, we don't get the hyperbaride! We already stated, multiple times, we would relocate the villagers"
"Where was that again? Remind me. Oh Right, the Unguannee Forest! The ONLY place on this planet they cannot live because of the toxins in all the plants there."
Master Fisto raised both hands.
"Gentlemen. Let us take a break as Master Malicos has arrived. We need to see to the security details of this negotiation. I don't need to remind you about the recent bombing. This should take priority right now."
The Guild rep and Senator Organa sighed and agreed to the break but not without some deadly glares at each other. Malicos turned to Macen and said quietly "Stay here, make sure they don't kill each other, that would look bad on the security side."
At that point, Macen noticed Valora across the tent. She had matured into a sixteen-year-old, black-haired, full bodied woman, of sharp facial features that belonged more in the Entertainment Holos than in this dingy damp tent on some back-watered mud planet. She was currently being berated by Master Shor in a not-so-subtle volume that had gained the uncomfortable attention of the remaining people in the tent. Everyone was turning away from the chastisement of Padawan by Master.
"What makes you think, Padawan, that you have any insights here that will be of value to anyone? Please explain to me with your vast experience why I would propose that preposterous idea?"
Valora bowed her head in shame and said: "I apologize Master, I won't speak out of turn again."
"See that you don't. Now stay here and observe and learn from your betters, child."
Master Uroc Shor turned on his heels and stomped from the tent. He'd had a fierce reputation as a task master Jedi who had zero patience for anything less from perfection from his Padawans. He held himself to high standards and had no less of expectations from anyone he taught. He was very obsessive about every detail in anything he did and demanded total control of missions he was in charge of. Malicos and Shor were night and day for teaching styles. Macen's heart went out to Valora as he approached her from behind and tapped her on the shoulder.
"Hi Valora. Long time since the Padawan tests.."
Valora turned quickly, wiping a tear from one eye. Her face burst into a red blush and shy smile.
"Macen Towbur. Are you done hating me now?"
Now it was Macen's turn to blush and hide his eyes.
"I….uhh….about back then…you know…"
Valora giggled and put a warm hand on his arm
"Relax. I'm just teasing. It is good to see you…and how much of you there to see now!" she said eyeing him up from foot to head.
"You must have sprouted another two feet. And how handsome you've become."
Macen almost choked on his surprise…"Valora! What will the Mining Guild think of your forwardness?" he said in a hushed and panicked whisper, looking around. The other members of the tent seemed to be in deep whispered conversations amongst themselves.
"Oh Macen, I've missed being able to poke you. Tell me about Malicos, is he everything the younglings talked about?"
"He's very…different. It's not like I thought being a guardian would be. It's not bad, just different. I don't have to ask how Master Shor is…" he said gesturing to the tent flap.
"Uggggh. He is brilliant and I've seen him do some crazy things in insane situations. Unfortunately, I've just been along for the ride. It is so hard to gain knowledge from him. I feel more like an assistant than his Padawan. A droid could do a better job than I am, they don't have ideas of their own."
Macen observed that as Valora talked, she was clenching her fists unconsciously.
"So what was your suggestion for the current situation that got him so mad?"
Valora looked around this time, "…..I asked if it was possible to relocate the entire planet's Mimban population to another world with similar biosphere properties"
"That's not a bad idea. There has to be at least a dozen mud-swamp worlds they could adapt to."
"Right? I know about four of them that would be ideal…but...as you saw, Master Shor doesn't accept any suggestion that doesn't come from any other Jedi Master or from between his ears. One day, I will show him I can think and be powerful and do what needs to be done."
Valora's fierce expression of determinism faded. She smiled at him. "Thank you Macen, it's been a long time since I had anyone say I had a good idea". She reached out to grab his hand when the tent flap swung open and the delegation senior members started back in. Malicos leaned in and waved at Macen and left again.
"I have to go Valora, I'll see you again I'm sure. And, don't let him get you down, I know you are great at anything you set your mind to." Macen said squeezing her hand as he left.
Outside the tent, Malicos was walking at a brisk pace towards the perimeter of the camp.
"We've had reports of the Mining Guild arming a posse to hunt down the locals. We're going to put a stop to it. Grab a speeder and follow me."
Malicos walked up to a brown speeder and jumped on. Macen got on the one to his right. Malicos started the engine and over the hum of the drive, turned to Macen and said, "As for Valora…be careful Padawan, you know the Code."
Macen's eye's widened and started to protest "I was just..."
Malicos sped off and Macen had to open the throttles full to catch up
Macen sat on the cot in the small quarters tent reserved for him and Malicos. He was gingerly peeling off the muddy Jedi robes over the blaster wound to his shoulder. The pain was coming in waves from his head and his shoulder. He was struggling to get the outer robes off to get to the hole in his shoulder. The blood gushing from the head wound had stopped.
By the time Malicos and Macen had arrived at the refinery, the Mining Guild posse had already armed and was out for blood, all fifty of them. Macen happened to be in front of Malicos on the speeders when the first laser bolt came from a small ambush crew in a narrow valley. The blast threw him off the speeder and knocked him half unconscious.
Macen was still on the ground when Master Malicos had leapt from his speeder and personally dispatched the small assault force vanguard in one slash of his lightsaber. Seeing their comrades decapitated in five seconds had taken all the vengeance out of the rest of the posse behind them. They dropped their weapons and raised their hands. Malicos showed mercy on the posse by ordering them to disperse. He'd hoped to avoid making the negotiations worse, but he was sure he'd hear about this much use of deadly force from Fisto. Shor, at least, understood the need for action sometimes and that was why he respected him. Damn Consulars, rather talk than light their sabers. Malicos had thrown the semi-conscious Macen on his speeder and brought him back to the camp.
The tent flap swung open and Master Kit Fisto came in the tent.
"Ahh Young Towbur, Guardian of the Jedi. Seeing as I can clearly see through that hole in you, are you regretting not being a Consular? "
Fisto smiled in a big ironic way but held up a webbed hand.
"Don't answer that, my linear-minded brother Jedi Master Malicos will think I am poaching his Padawan. I came to tell you that I am sending Nahdar Vebb over to Force heal you. Expect him shortly"
Fisto turned to leave but stopped and raised a pointed finger to the air…"I might suggest an old Jedi Proverb from the great Consular Jedi Master Allun, for your next encounter with a hostile force….."Duck"
He left the tent. Macen finished pulling the robes off and lay down naked on the cot. He closed his eyes. The tent flap opened again.
"Nahdar, thank god, can you patch me up?" Macen said with a hand on his throbbing brow.
"I can try but you might want to cover yourself up first"
Macen opened his eyes and found Valora in the tent, arms crossed on her chest and looking down at the ground. Her cheeks were an even brighter shade of red than before. Again, she was smiling widely.
Macen rolled over too quickly while reaching for the robes on the floor to cover himself. The dizziness from the head wound overcame him. He promptly fell out of bed. His bare rear end was facing Valora, his face in the dirt. She came hurriedly over and helped him back into the cot, as he groaned; his head spinning.
"I'll leave you here for Nahdar, Macen."
He felt a warm kiss on his forehead and a hand on his chest.
"I'll see you later" she whispered and left the tent.
After about ten minutes, Nahdar came into the tent and stopped.
"So…tell me Macen. Do human males always get erections when they are shot?"
***Mimban, Day 3***
The smell of sulfur had final stopped wafting over from the newly shut-down Mining Guild hyperbaride refineries, Macen noticed. Since the incident with the ambush, three things had happened.
The mining guild filed a complaint with the Galactic Senate over their slain workers but it had backfired due to the unprovoked attack on the Jedi. Overwhelming public opinion was set against what they saw as corporate thuggery and greed. The mining Guild had struggled to backpedal in the negotiations to make concessions to the Mimbans to save face and at a huge loss in profits. Moving the refineries to a more distant but not as rich deposit was all but demanded by the Chancellor of the Senate, Palpatine.
Jedi Master Fisto took the win for what it was, a compromise. Compromise, being his mission, fault the methods for success he could, but complain about the outcome, he could not. He'd left almost as soon as the agreements were made.
Master Shor was furious. He'd had his glory stolen from him by a glorified human primate with a lightsaber. Shor had always respected Malicos for not butting into diplomatic solutions and understanding his place as an over-skilled security guard. This was too much. Shor had spent months preparing a brilliant compromise between off-world transport for the whole Mimban society and heavy concessions from the mining guild aimed to make the Jedi look like heroes. It was bad enough his Padawan had almost spilled his secret in front of the Mimbans but now with this Malicos debacle, the Jedi looked like a security force for the Galactic left wing
Macen had not personally caught any verbal blow back to his "actions" at the refinery from any Jedi Master. Master Fisto's "Duck" comment was the only exception. He'd not seen Valora since she came to his tent. His embarrassment over her seeing him naked changed into a recurring wet dream in the last three days. She would come to his tent again but not laugh and he was not hurt. It got fuzzy after that. But he knew it was a combination of sensual images, overwhelming feelings of love, lust, and shame. He'd woken each night now with wet sheets and had hurriedly stashed the offending linen in the camp wash, certain he'd been found out.
When Shor's Shuttle departed with Valora in it on the second day, he was torn between the relief of and grief over not seeing her. He knew deep down inside that it was forbidden for him to love her. He struggled with it almost every minute during their time on Mimban.
Around noon, Malicos came up to Macen in the mess hall
"After you eat, meet me by our tent. We need to talk."
Macen somehow knew this was coming, admonition and punishment for his actions and feelings on this mission. Master Malicos never seemed to pay attention to Macen but he always knew what Macen had been doing. Macen felt he was disgracing the Jedi Code and could not even begin to guess the outcome back on Corruscant when Malicos took him in front of the Jedi council for the mission debriefing. Would he be sent back to Youngling school? Censured? Banished from the Order? He lost his appetite and walked from the table, leaving his uneaten meal.
He walked to the tent and found Malicos leaning on a speeder.
"So, what did you learn this mission, Padawan?"
"Duck, Master?"
"Yes, that is a good lesson to learn for most things in your life. I was referring to Valora?"
"…I uhhh…I apologize for my behavior Master. Please do not tell the Jedi Council to banish me from the Jedi Order."
Macen bowed his head and clasped his hands. If his shoulder wasn't still hurting like hell, he would have fallen to his knees in the Mimbanese mud, arms raised in submission.
A warm hand rested on Macen's shoulder. "Listen to me Macen and listen good. Feelings are a gift, not a curse. Overaction can be a curse and not a gift to a Jedi Guardian sometimes. Inaction can sometime be your best ally. Knowing when not to do something, even though your feelings are driving you towards that thing, can be the smartest thing you can do. Always listen to your feelings, but think before you follow them. Your inaction in the last few days are why I am not bringing this up to the Council."
Macen held his breath and said nothing, continuing to look down.
"For example, when Valora saw you naked and then kissed you, it was her feelings and lack of inaction that pushed her towards the dark side, for both of you. Your body's physical reaction to those feelings, especially at your age, can be overpowering. Your lack of inaction, whether conscious or unconscious is what defines you a person. Resisting that kind of temptation at a young age is extremely difficult. It won't be the last time you will be tempted. I was actually more impressed by what you didn't do than what you did. Restraint is at the very core of a Jedi's being, their existence. Giving into your emotions leads to the Dark Side."
"This is one reason why personal attachment is forbidden. Jedi in the past have fallen into the trap that is love for another. Love itself is not bad and our universe would be a much colder and harder place if beings did not love each other, but consider this: Those people in love do not have our power and responsibility. The outcome has never been good. Dark Jedi were the result. I don't always agree with the Jedi Council or the all the parts of the Jedi Code, but I do agree with this one."
"Use some logic here: if you were to marry Valora, what kind of life could you hope to achieve? Security guard? Pilot? Janitor? Everyone would know you only as a disgraced Jedi, cast out, impoverished. Your offspring would be guaranteed to become Force Sensitive and taken by the Jedi. Have you thought about the pain and suffering that loss would inflict on you? Have you thought about what Valora would go through as well?"
"Yes, Jedi have left the order and it was always a great loss to us. Remember your history lessons, only twenty have left versus tens of thousands who have stayed. Of those twenty lost Jedi, only one left for Love; Revan. Remember that."
"And no, I am not going to kick you out of the Jedi or banish you or censure you or tell the Council about this. I just want you to understand a lesson that is very hard to teach, except to tell you, it's not worth it. I won't blame you for your feelings, but I will ask you to vow to me you won't act on them or let them get in the way of your duties as a Jedi."
Macen was stunned. Malicos had never explained so much to him in one lesson, or in the past six months. To have him acknowledge what happened in the tent, forgive him and understand and try to teach him was very powerful. Macen looked into the eyes of Malicos with the loyalty of the forgiven
"Master, I vow to never approach Valora as anything other than a fellow Jedi and I will not let it get in the way of my duties."
"Good, that's settled then. We're leaving, pack your gear, we have to see a man about an ass-kicking." Malicos winked and sped off on the speeder to the shuttle.
***Corruscant – Jedi Temple - Jedi Council***
Master Shor left the Council room in a huff, snapping his fingers at Valora to follow him.
"What do they know about the Jedi image if they continue to sit up here in this room and never leave to see the galaxy and what people think of us? They are blind to bigger threats and they refuse to see them!"
Valora struggled to keep up with her Master. She knew she wasn't expected to answer or give opinion to his rhetorical self-rambling questions. Master Shor was a shouter and not shy about doing it anywhere he felt like it.
She'd asked Master Yoda about Master Shor's anger issues and was told.
"The star that burns brightest, cool, eventually it will. Be afraid, not of the heat, for cold is always present"
She didn't know what to make of that answer and had stopped asking the question. She was learning to accept her place but not without it chaffing on her.
Valora knew she was an incredible fighter. Master Shor did not care, even though Jedi Sentinels were supposedly as good of fighters as the Guardians, it was far from his skill set. He could fight very well but he saw fighting as a means to an end, his glory. She knew she was intelligent and had a good understanding of Geo-Political situations that could be handled deftly but not weakly. Master Shor didn't believe in her intelligence. His only teaching to her so far had been to takes notes on what he did. How he acted. What he said. She was quickly becoming an expert on Jedi Master Shor, Jerk.
She did not dare to voice these opinions. A Padawan who complained was quickly censured and sent back to Youngling School as combative or inept. She did however notice a lot of sympathetic looks her way whenever they came back to the Jedi Temple, from other Padawans and even a Master or two. Nothing was ever done about Master Shor's teaching style as it is always a Jedi Master's prerogative on how to teach. That was sacrosanct to the Jedi way of life, through diversity of soul, would the Jedi broaden their horizons and be able to adapt to a changing universe. If the Master did not violate the Jedi Code, much was overlooked. More and more, Valora's feelings of frustration were turning to anger and recklessness.
She knew it was forbidden to kiss Macen Towbur, but she could not help herself. She'd been smitten from the second he graced the command tent on Mimban with his tall muscular frame, his chiseled young face. She's had to actively restrain herself from hugging him right there. It was even harder to not touch his naked body in the med tent, to do more….
The feelings of youth washed over her. She felt helpless and anger and lust and a need to break away from her situation. The thought of a lifetime of this celibacy and disregard and control over her life was like looking down a long black hole.
She wiped a tear from her face and vowed it would be the last one of self-pity, she would be her own Master one day…..
Master Fisto came into the Jedi Council after Master Shor had stormed out. He stood calmly in the center of the chambers
"Master Fisto, where is your Padawan?", Jedi Master Mace Windu asked with a raised eyebrow.
"I sent him to Mon Calam. It is time he started to think for himself on solo missions of minor diplomatic import. There is a motion in the local government to start droid production in greater numbers. Others in the Council of the planet have decried it as blasphemous to their ways. I sent him to observe and report only. I felt I was needed here more right this minute."
"Very well. What is your report and opinion of Mimban?"
"Luck is sometimes an ally of the Force. It is well that young Padawan Macen Towbur was not permanently damaged, but not through lack of trying."
"Indeed." We were actually expecting Master Malicos sooner, did he give you reason for his delay?"
"Master Malicos does not confide in me more than what is necessary. Apparently, his delay was not a concern of his to relay to me. In other words, no, he didn't say anything. He does remind me of the more rebellious side of Master Qui Gon." Fisto said with a shake of his tentacled head. He shrugged his shoulders to show that situation was done for him now.
"And the Mining Guild showed no intentions, said or unsaid, of retribution against the Jedi?"
"Actually, I was rather interested in their response. Once Supreme Chancellor Palpatine became involved in a private conversation with the Guild, they were practically falling over themselves with obsequiousness and toadying to gain our favor. I don't believe they will become a problem, but it would not be a bad idea to find out what was said in that holo call. Our Supreme Chancellor now seems to wield immense influence with a major guild. That is a new development in the politics of the Senate."
"Agreed it is. A closer look into our Chancellor, wise would be." Yoda said rubbing his chin.
"Thank you Master Fisto." Mace Windu said in a dismissive yet gracious tone. He turned to look at Yoda with a raised eyebrow.
***Corruscant – Supreme Chancellor's Private Office ****
"So tell me, did Malicos plan the attack on his Padawan to initiate events, or was it incompetence?" Supreme Chancellor Palpatine stood facing the fire in his small office. It was not as big as his official one but this one was much easier to sweep for listening devices. His plans as Lord Sidious were coming to a starting point, he could not have anyone hearing them besides his trusted assistant Senator Mas Ammeda, Assistant to the Supreme Chancellor.
"I do not believe the ambush was an intentional ploy by Master Malicos, he merely was second in the speeder formation and not the first to take a shot from cover. I do not believe he is a threat to us."
"Good. The last thing we need now is competition. Either they are with us or against us. Let's see how they do outside the Jedi Code when the opportunity presents itself. Inform the Leader of the Mining Guild a com from Lord Sidious is coming, and make sure there are witnesses to that call…."
Coruscant – Old Business District Building – Level 80: 7 years BEFORE ODER 66
The sudden blast of air blew the Womp Rat over the edge of the grungy landing pad, down eighty stories to whatever fate was in store for it. The open-cockpit air speeder landed gently where the rat had been scrounging. Two Jedi hoped out.
Macen, now sixteen standard years old, landed with a thud on the duracrete pad while steadying himself on the speeder's side. His Master, about two feet shorter, landed much more adeptly, and quietly. Macen stood at a height of six feet, three inches. He was not done growing yet. His shoulders were almost three lf feet across. He carried his muscular weight of two hundred and twenty pounds very heavily, like a young animal that will grow into something much larger but doesn't know how to control its body yet.
The speeder's anti-grav repulsors rose after his weight was removed from it. Macen stumbled a bit and regained his balance.
"Come on, you big Dewback. Try not to knock any walls down on the way to our destination." Malicos said irritably as he walked into the building.
"Sorry Master"
Macen bowed his head in humility and frustration and followed Malicos. His most recent growth spurt came as a surprise to both of them, and it also came with mixed feelings. Macen thought it might make him more intimidating as a big Jedi Guardian. Malicos it might make him a better target, especially with all the clumsiness he was displaying. That was the reason for the visit here today.
Malicos came to the last door at the end of a long dirty hallway. The paint, if ever there was any, was faded to a dull grey. Most of the apartments looked abandoned and probably inhabitable to begin with. Room 307 had a triple lock on the door exterior and a camera pointing down from the ceiling corner. The speaker system looked brand new. Malicos pushed the talk button.
"Ollie! Hey! It's Taron."
The door clicked, unlocked, and slid open.
The inside of the room was a much different environment than the hallway. There was high-end furniture, exotic glass vases, gold dishes, steel and white décor everywhere. Whoever Ollie was, he'd spent a lot of money on refurbishing this cheap apartment. Floor to ceiling glass walls lined the outside of the apartment, giving a celebrated view of the Jedi Temple in the distance. From the looks of it, he'd knocked out the walls and taken over at least two adjoining apartments. The place was huge for a ghetto studio building.
A slight, thin middle-aged human dressed in white robes with a red sash stepped barefoot from the back room. His head was bald and he had a very large scar across the top of his head from the back all the way through his destroyed left eye. His face was clean shaven. From the looks of it, something had nearly cut him in half a long time ago.
His expression lit up as he walked over and took Malicos' arm, up to the elbow, in a firm grip.
"Taron, you old bastard! It's been too long."
Malicos also grinned and hugged the man.
"It has been too long indeed, Master"
Macen kept his hands behind his back, his surprise in check. Master? To Macen's knowledge, Taron Malicos was a Padawan to Jedi Master Rayla Elion, not this man…..who wasn't even a Jedi?
"Ollie Juno, Red Sash Master of the Teras Kasi, allow me to introduce this walking-wall of a Jedi Padawan, All Feet and No Grace, Macen Towbur"
Macen bowed in respect to the older man. Ollie returned the gesture.
"Well, how about Padawan Macen and I get acquainted. Macen, why don't you leave your outer robes and lightsaber here on the table and follow me into the training room."
Macen looked to Master Malicos with alarm. A Jedi never abandoned his lightsaber anywhere…ever.
Malicos held up a hand as if to answer the coming objection and turned to Ollie
"Ollie, I need a minute with my Padawan."
Ollie nodded and left the room through a red door in the corner of the room.
"Macen…" Malicos said in a tired voice as he sat on one of the couches, pointing to the other for Macen to sit as well.
"I've been a Force user my whole life, just like you. I know this is going to come as a hard concept for you to understand, considering your upbringing and training. There are times where defending yourself, without the Force and without a Lightsaber, will become very valuable tools in your personal growth. I am telling you as your Master, you do not have to do this. It technically violates the Jedi Code of leaving your Lightsaber behind. This beginning level of training in Teras Kasi requires no weapons. That is why the Jedi don't learn this style of martial arts Also because it was created by the Sith to fight the Jedi". Malicos said under his breath
"This is your choice, but I would personally like you to do this. I feel it will benefit your physical awkwardness and aid in your Jedi Abilities as a Guardian in the long run. It is going to give you an edge that you simply cannot learn in the Jedi Order."
Macen considered that statement for a long minute. If he did this, he would be violating the Jedi Code by leaving his Lightsaber out of his reach. The Jedi had drilled it into him from day one to never do that. Also, what was this issue about not using the Force? What was that? On no planet or universe had he heard about the Force not existing. Asking him to stop using the Force was like asking him to instantly stop being male or cut off a limb. If this was an outlawed fighting style, a Sith one no less, why was a Jedi Master asking him to learn it?
Macen's vow to Master Malicos on Mimban wsa still fresh in his mind and the debt of loyalty he felt to him. Malico's lessons had been very difficult but worth his time to learn. He'd gained sureness of self in the last two years under him. He didn't love him like a father, but he trusted him as one.
"Alright, I will do it."
Malicos almost jumped up as he stood. "That's great!" Leave your Lightsaber on the table over there and report back to me at the Jedi Temple when he releases you for the day. I hope you stretched this morning. And remember, no one needs to know about this except the three of us, right?"
He winked and patted Macen on the shoulder and left the apartment. Macen put his Lightsaber on the table and walked through the red door.
…4 months later
Macen lay on the rubber mat, sweating profusely and struggling with all his might to free himself from the iron grip of the man almost half his size. When Ollie increased the pressure on his leg, Macen tapped the mat loudly two times. Ollie released him and sat up.
"Remember Macen, your strength and size are great things but this is about leverage, not strength. Your joints only move in so many directions. I barely weigh half of what you do and am not as strong. That is why I am able to dominate you. I am using your own weight and strength against you. In Teras kasi, you have to be flexible and rigid at the same time. "
Macen stared at Mater Ollie in confusion
"If you hit me with a stick it will hurt. Now imagine your hands and feet are rocks. Your arms, legs and torso are ropes. If you tie a rope around a rock, swing it with momentum, and then hit me with it, the results are devastating. In other words, use your flexibility to remove yourself from the joint locks before they happen, avoid strikes before they happen. When you strike or grapple, use the momentum and force of speed of your body to do the damage. When your opponent attacks, use their strength against them. Two fighters of equal skill and size and strength will equally match. Unbalance that equation and I personally would always have skill of movement and force over strength. This is basic physics boy. Let's try it again"
They stood on the mat, bowed and took a fighting stance. Macen stepped with his right foot towards the old Master and shot his right fist out to strike him in the head. Ollie stepped in between Macen's legs with his right foot, closing the distance. He turned his right shoulder inward towards Macen's torso and raised his left hand, flat palm out to Macen's forearm, letting the first graze by his nose. Ollie slid his left hand along Macen's right inner forearm, locking two fingers onto the inner bones of the hand, fingers wrapped around the fist. With his right arm, he elbow checked Macen in the pressure point above the ribs in the armpit while continuing to extend his left arm away from himself, like drawing a bow. With his right leg, Ollie stepped in between Macen's legs and placed his right hand, open palm, an inch away from Macen's chest. When his foot hit the ground, he snapped his right palm heal into Macen's Solar Plexus right below the bottom floating ribs, center mass. Macen half fell, half crumbled under his own weight on his back. This happened in the blink of an eye.
With the wind knocked out of him, it was all he could do to not gasp for air. He wheezed and all his strength sapped out. He hadn't felt this incompetent since his first day of Padawan Lightsaber training…with sticks and wooden dummies.
Ollie stepped back.
"Remember, the force a body generates can be as strong against it as it is against another."
Macen stood up. The lessons continued.
Corruscant – 5 years BEFORE ODER 66
Macen knocked on the steel door. The dank alleyway had had, as far as he could tell, at least one murder in the last hour and the galactic Senate Police force hadn't cleaned up the corpse yet. By the smell, they'd also neglected the last two corpses before it. His knuckles came away grease stained door and with a not-so pleasant smell. A droid popped out from its hole in the door and asked
"Whachu Hatcha?"
"Ruby Bleals", Macen leaned into the droid and whispered the password he'd recovered.
"Seepo"
The droid shot back into the door slamming its little sub-door behind it. The massive durasteel entry way slid about two feet to the left and jammed. The machinery behind it was apparently jammed from neglect. Macen took it in stride and slid through the narrow opening, cloak raised over his head. Nothing, not the corpses, the smells, the grime, the doors, would dampen his mood tonight.
Since he'd been training with Ollie, he'd wanted to give his abilities a real test. Not to say Ollie wasn't tough, he was almost brutal with him in the ring. It was just that fighting the same fighter all the time became predictable. He wanted a challenge. This was his chance.
In a previous mission with Master Malicos, he'd uncovered intelligence on an illegal fighting circuit, not worthy of a Jedi's time, but definitely worth his personal time. The fighting was free style, only rules were no blades or weapons and no killing. And there were credits, a lot of credits. He'd come across an intercepted com that boasted over fifty thousand credits to the winner (ie the last person standing) in the fight. He'd snuck out of the Jedi temple from his quarters right under Master Malico's snoring on the night of the big fight. Here he was, ready to test his mettle.
The hallway past the narrow door descended into a deep stairwell. A loud banging, slow and rhythmic, resounded off the walls. He came to a very small black door at the end of the hall. Macen had to crouch to go through it.
A sudden tremor in the Force, warning of danger, pushed between his eyes like as shot as a large furry hand grabbed him by the front of his shirt and threw him to the opposing wall of the adjourning small room. He'd barely had time to put his feet out before him when the force of the impact drove his legs into his chest, compressing all the air out of his lungs. He fell to the dirt floor stunned. All he heard was his own heartbeat slamming in his ears and a continuous thudding of steel on steel. He struggled to retain his consciousness.
"ANNNDD we HAVE our NEXT contestant!" a loudspeaker shouted over his head.
The banging continued.
"What is your name, brave fighter? Actually, never mind, Shreewoo, show these fine beings what they paid to see. Remember, leave enough limbs attached so it doesn't bleed out"
There is no chaos, there is harmony.
Macen was trying to get to his feet when he heard the howl of a full grown Wookiee, male, angry, and charging at him. He gave up getting to his feet and crouched, desperately trying to regain his breath. The beast crossed the fifteen feet to him in a roar and fur flying, three-inch claws extended.
"Hey, no weapons…" Macen whispered and dropped flat to his back on the ground as soon as the Wookiee was about to take his face off. He shot up a fist in between its legs and felt something soft explode behind his punch.
The Wookiee's roar turned to a shriek as it face-planted into the wall over Macen's head. The seven foot tall Wookiee fell to one knee, almost on Macen's head.
"Ooooooohhh, now you pissed him off. Good for you! At least you won't die a coward!" The announcing speaker rang out.
Macen scrambled feet-first away from the bellowing hairy monster and flipped over onto all fours. The Wookiee's hand shot up to the steel wall and clawed four grooves down it, slowly. The shriek stopped, the noise stopped, the incessant banging stopped. Every living being in the ring went quiet with baited breath.
Macen slowly stood into a crouched stance, arms and hands facing his foe. The beast turned, reached into the stands behind it and grabbed the nearest spectator's arm, ripped it off and brandished it as a club. The screams from the hapless being were drowned out by the clanging againg. This time, Macen could see the source. The crowd that was elevated above the small fifteen foot ring was slamming weapons against the steel rails. Blasters, vibroblades, pipes, whatever they could use. Nonstop like a chant.
Shreewoo rushed him again. Macen's body flipped into the air in a summersault, neat and tight over the Wookiee's head, he'd almost made the full rotation when the Wookiee grabbed hold of his ankle and with the force of a destroyer, slammed Macen to the ground in a mashed heap of agony.
The Wookiee raised the severed arm in the air and brought it down on the ground where Macen's head was a second ago, the tendons and muscles exploding from the place where it was severed. Macen had rolled to the right and sprang to his feet again, light headed and spinning. He was having serious second thoughts on this. He could not let fear control him now, he must survive this fight.
Shreewoo swung the limb wildly at Macen. Macen ducked and spun kicked hard to the mid torso area of the Wookiee, connecting solidly in its ribs, he felt a few break. The furry beast doubled over and the large paw holding the severed arm let go of as it flew into the stands, to the roar of the roar of the crowd. The Wookiee stood straight and pointed at Macen and then drew a long claw across its own throat in a "You're dead gesture"
Macen took a step back and relaxed his body. The Wookiee charged him again, arms out to bear hug and crush. Macen side stepped and dropped to one knee, he punched as hard as he could to the front of the knee joint. This normally would have broken the joint backwards. This time it did not. Known for being expert climbers and jumpers from huge Kyshyk Tree Limb to Limb, Wookiee joints had evolved with reinforced bone and extra strong tendons. Macen felt the impact of the knee almost shatter his arm and break two knuckles. Shreewoo reach down and picked him up by the throat.
Macen began to black out from the iron grip around his throat when the Wookiee's wrist was suddenly severed in a flash of blue and singed fur. Macen dropped to the ground and gasped for breath, his vision swimming. The Wookiee stumbled back howling in pain. He did not have to look up to know it was Malicos standing over him, lightsaber blazing.
"Jedi Business! Disperse!" Malicos shouted at the crowd. They quickly stopped banging their weapons and scrambled toward the back exits. The Wookie sat down heavily in the ring clutching his cauterized stump, moaning.
Malicos stepped over and leaned down towards Macen and whispered,
"Just so you know, 'Whachu Hatcha' is "Ready to die?' in Huttenese and…..make sure you tell Ollie if it was a Wookie red rocket or fur pole that you punched, he was always curious. See you back at the Temple"
Malicos stepped over the groaning Macen and out through the small door.
Macen wheezed on the dirt floor across from the moaning Wookiee.