Sidious felt cold sweat accumulate on his forehead at the sheer menace the ancient Sith's magical voice conveyed. He could see his mentor standing at his shoulder, slightly behind him, a mere shadow, almost out of sight, and suddenly he felt very uneasy indeed, remembering their argument a few weeks back. Kell had claimed to be more powerful than Sidious, and he had proven why that was so right now. Swallowing slowly, carefully, the apprentice shut down his blade in deference.

"Neither are you to be prey."

The yellow blade snapped back and around as Roj Kell charged at the tiger, who ducked low for a moment, confused, but then met her new adversary with a ferocious snarl. She reared up, her pranks spread wide as if preparing for a hug. To Sidious' surprise and shock Kell did not use the beast's ridiculously open position to skewer her. Instead he whirled around and backed into the tigress, before he drove his right elbow into her guts. Using his own momentum and strength Kell took two more steps back, pushing hard, and the tigress dropped to the ground again, roaring angrily. When Kell pivoted on his heels to face the predator, Sidious could see a spray of blood wrap the older man in a curtain of red beads. He had clearly been hurt in the attack. Confronting the tigress, Kell held his lightsaber's handle in both hands, the tip of the blade pointed straight at the female tiger's broad black nose. She hissed again, red eyes gleaming, licked her lips eagerly as she took in the smell of her intended victim's blood.

This was his chance to kill his master, Sidious realized suddenly. If he attacked now, Kell would either die on his blade or would be torn apart by the enraged tiger. He hesitated only for a moment before his indignation and desire for revenge for this cruel game took over. He charged, red blade sweeping up high, preparing for a powerful slash. In the last possible instant Roj Kell stepped aside, just at the moment the tigress jumped. She tried to twist her body into Kell's direction, while Sidious, finding her large mass flying at him, almost panicked. Yet he managed to finish his attack, and his blade cut deeply through the tigress' white coat. Nevertheless she sank her hindlegs' claws deeply into the younger Sith's arms and chest, before she fell heavily into the soft grass, dead. Sidious joined her presently, exhausted and feeling dizzy from the pain that wracked his own body. Shaking, he managed to deactivate the blade of his lightsaber just before he passed out.

Standing above his unconscious apprentice, Roj Kell smiled. Blood was flowing down his chest from a set of furrows the tigress had cut into his flesh, but he did not pay the injuries any heed. Instead he concentrated on Sidious' still form, as he gently reopened the younger man's conncetion to the Force. That one was ambitious, yet his ambition was eating away at his mind, making him commit errors that might cost him his life one of these days. His ambition and his achievements also spawned arrogance, a second road to a quick ending.

One or the other would be the young Sith's downfall one day.

And still, Sidious was an exceptional personality, brilliant in his own way, more politician than warrior, more manipulator than anything else. He was, Roj Kell thought, so totally different from his previous students. Here was a man who could understand the value of stealth and deception fully. Despite his years and experience the ancient Sith Lord felt confident that he had finally found his successor, the one who would bring the Sith Order back for good. A few more years of training and Sidious would be prepared for exactly that.

The young man's former teacher had obviously been very egoistical, holding back his teachings to keep Sidious in line, for fear of losing the last battles to his apprentice. Even though Kell could understand that desire very well, it still seemed an affront to everything the Sith had ever been since Darth Bane had founded the new order. Well, Perhaps it was time for another modification.

Self-consciously Roj Kell ran a hand over his chest and held his palm up in front of his eyes, looking with mild interest at the dark blood that covered it. He would heal soon enough, but Sidious had been hurt worse. Picking his apprentice up from the ground, Kell walked back through the forest toward where they had landed their ship. A few hours later they had reached Korriban.

A day after their arrival Sidious woke up again. Roj Kell was seated cross-legged on a small stone ledge, standing watch over his injured student. When Sidious stirred, the older Sith nodded to himself solemnly. Bedded on a stack of blankets and wrapped in two more, the young man seemed fragile, his bold face out of place somehow. Then his blue eyes snapped open quite suddenly, meeting Kell's instantly. Reaching out to pick up a cup of potion he had prepared earlier, Roj Kell handed the container to Sidious, who struggled weakly to sit up.

"Drink this. It will help heal your wounds more quickly," the ancient Sith said quietly and waited until the younger man had taken the cup.

Sidious' eyes held a fire of suspicion and hatred; undoubtedly he was remembering the incident on Railltir, and what it meant. He took a big swallow of the tincture and grimaced at the bitter taste. Then, mouth still twisted in obvious displeasure, he sat the cup down carefully on the rough stone floor next to him. Only then, apparently calmer, did he speak.

"A lesson on pain, you said. Somehow I don't believe that was the true objective."

"What do you believe the objective to have been, then?" Roj Kell asked softly, brows arched questioningly.

"Humility, perhaps, or trust. But pain?" Sidious cautiously lifted his right arm, turning it this way and that, as if testing its mobility. "I admit that it does hurt, but what is the point?"

The ancient Sith continued staring into the younger man's eyes, forcing him to hold his intense gaze. "Some cultures believe that pain is the essence of life, that suffering is what defines it. They crave pain and pride themselves of being able to bear it for hours, without flinching. What is the point? To them the point is to remember the price of being alive, of course, of honoring their creators, sometimes. But the true purpose of the exercise is achieving control over one's own emotions. You may remember the Jedi Code declaring there to be no emotion, only peace. Peace is a state of being, just as any emotion. Another reminder of how self-indulgent the Jedi are," he added contemptuously. "Yet you will find no peace in pain, will you?"

"Only if I move beyond the pain," Sidious replied, frowning in concentration.

"Excellent. Can you do that?"

He continued watching his apprentice's futile struggle to break through the wall of agony that surrounded him, knowing full well that Sidious could not manage at all. All he accomplished was to rouse his own anger, frustrated at his lack of success. It helped to push the pain aside, of course, and Kell could sense sudden triumph flood the younger man's mind. With pride shining in his blue eyes Sidious smiled.

"I think I understand," he grated out. "This is the essence of the power we command. With that power nothing can defeat us."

Roj Kell cocked his head to the left. "You have understood nothing, Sidious. What I want you to achieve is calm, not a heightened emotional state that will lead to your making mistakes. That was what got you into this predicament in the first place, remember?" He gave Sidious an encouraging nod, but was only met with a blank look from the other Sith.

"I – I am not sure I see your point," the apprentice confessed.

"Oh, I am sure you can't. The point, Sidious, is that pain is just as unimportant as any other emotion. The ability to retain your calm in all possible situations is the key to survival. Perhaps you should recall just how you came by these wounds. Let me help you. First you believed that your target was to be the tiger, and you let her distract you. When you realized the true threat on that clearing you became even more distratced. The only sensible choice – or at least what seemed sensible to you at that moment – was to use my engagement of the beast to try and kill me. What you did not see, though, was the fact that I was still using the tiger to goad you. Why could I do this? Because I simply took my chances, the way you tried to do by attacking me. Took them, and used them."

Sidious' frown deepened. "What does that mean, exactly?"

"It means, apprentice," the old Sith retorted, leaning toward the other man, "that life is a game played by multiple players. Only by playing too, can you achieve your goals effectively. There is no repose. But that is only half of the truth. Remember that I deceived you with words. Words give warning, yet words also precede action, even supplant it. You believed what I said, trusted my words. I used that trust against you. "

"So it depends on your goal whether to use words or action or both. Depends on whatever strategy works better in a given situation, defense or attack," his apprentice concluded.

"Very good. So you do understand." Roj Kell gave his student a mirthless smile. "Some people believe that what the student learns from a lesson is more imporant than what the teacher thought to bring across. Well, I say that a teacher who cannnot bring his point across is not a very good teacher at all. Some believe that there are no teachers, that everyone is a student. That is true, to a certain extent. Yet it is a teacher's task to bring his student on a certain path, to form his views, to help him prevail in the future and present, to make him understand his world. And a student is soemone who has realized his own ignorance and seeks to change it into knowledge. For that he seeks someone he believes can teach him. Exactly that desire led you to me, Sidious. If that were any different there would be no need to teach. There would be no teachers and no students. There would only be an infinite struggle, because the lessons life teaches are not necessarily the lessons one needs to survive. All you could do then would be to learn from day to day, situation to situation. A waste of time and resources. A teacher can show you the complex picture of life."

"Only if he is good enough," Sidious murmured, chastised.

"Agreed. And now you should sleep."

He was the worst of teachers, surely. He had failed his student, had failed his trust, and what was more, he had driven Xanatos to the Dark Side. It was unforgiveable. Head lowered in shame and grief, Qui-Gon Jinn sat one one of the large cushions that were placed around the low table that dominated the living-room of his quarters. He had requested time for himself, trying to beat the turmoil in his heart on his own. Master Yoda had seemed understanding, and the knowledge that the ancient master had lost more than one student in his long career as teacher and had still retained his calm wisdom was somewhat soothing to Qui-Gon. Right now, though, he was far from having that same coolness. His failure burned hotly in his mind, and he remembered events long years back when he had failed too. For a moment he wondered what Count Dooku was doing right now. They had not heard of him ever since he had vanished on Telos, but none of the Council members discounted the fact that he was out there somewhere. And Qui-Gon had not forgotten it either.

Just like he had not forgotten Master Yoda's prediction of the darkness growing stronger. It was growing stronger. And somehow the Jedi Order was losing more battles than it won. Just as he himself had lost on Telos. Sighing, Qui-Gon rose from his seat to walk over to the window overlooking the city. Centuries ago a park had encircled the Jedi Temple, but Coruscant had grown, demanding more space. Now it was almost impossible to see the Menarai Mountains for all the skyscrapers and vehicles that dominated the aereal region of the city-planet. The Jedi Master heaved another sigh. There was a knock at the door. Wearily, he turned around calling:

"Come!"

It was Master Yoda. The ancient Jedi was leaning heavily on his walking cane as he plodded over to join Qui-Gon. "Feel well you do?" Yoda asked almost cheerfully.

"Not really," the younger man confessed sincerely. "I – I have doubts. About my future."

"Good doubts are. For many things. Help they do to keep real your point of view."

Qui-Gon smiled. "I guess so, yes." He extended his hand toward the row of cushions. "Would you like to take a seat?"

Nodding thoughtfully, Yoda took that invitation and ambled over to seat himself. Qui-Gon joined him presently. For some time the two of them kept silent, each caught up in his own thoughts. Then the ancient Jedi Master said: "Remember I do a prophecy from times long past. Discussed the Council has its implications for along time."

"What prophecy is that?" Qui-Gon asked, curious.

"Reminiscent it is of current events," the other Jedi explained. "Of a saviour it speaks, who will come in times of darknes."

"A Jedi?"

"Know we do not," Yoda replied quietly. "Logical it seems." He looked up sharply at Qui-Gon. "Remember you do what tell you I did about darkness?"

"Of course. You said the darkness was growing anyway, and that we needed to stick together. It does not seem to be working, though."

For a moment a dangerous glint appeared in Yoda's moss-green eyes, but then he relaxed again and nodded. "Agree I must. Yet continue the battle we must." He seemed to focus into the distance as he continued. "Always two there are, in every tale we know. One dark, one light. Two sides."

"Balance," Qui-Gon injected, suddenly apprehensive. "A balance of contrasts. Just as in every tale there are young and old, ugly and beautiful, wise and dumb, and so on."

"Not nearly as easy life is," Master Yoda replied with a smile.

"But near enough," Qui-Gon countered.

The ancient Jedi Master nodded. "Agree I do. The gift of the Jedi it is to see beyond appearances, to see beauty in something ugly. Dangerous it is, though, for sometimes see we do mercy in cruelty."

"Which is why the Jedi must always guard against the Dark Side," Qui-Gon concluded. "I understand. But Master Jorka always seemed to be following that principle, and he still fell from his path."

"Misunderstand you do, Qui-Gon Jinn. Afraid always I was more of Alamys Jorka falling to the Dark Side than your own teacher."

That came as a surprise. "Why?"

"True to their principles and beliefs both were. Yet Count Dooku's principles are stronger. His own they are, fully so. Alamys Jorka, believe he did with all his heart in the code of the Order. Yet his the code was not. A tool it was for him, to judge others by, as well as himself." Yoda nodded to himself, as if for reassurance. "Warn him I did. Prevent his fall I could not."

Qui-Gon Jinn lapsed into thoughtful silence. He had never considered it that way. And suddenly he realized that he indeed had learned more from Count Dooku than he could ever have learned from Master Jorka. To be true to his own principles. They might not coincide with all rules of the code, but they were close enough and he could fully believe in them. What good was a Jedi if he was not certain what he stood for? There may be more sides to life than just two, more shades of gray than one, but all that mattered was to know what side oneself stood on. And Qui-Gon Jinn knew exactly what side he stood on, and what side Xanatos had chosen.

He nodded at last and said: "I understand, Master Yoda."

"Good. When ready you are, another student will join you. To waste your talents the right you have not," he added with a wink.

Blushing slightly, Qui-Gon smiled. "No, master. You are right. Thank you. I appreciate your insight."

"Questions are to be answered, so ask you will, if questions you do have."

"Certainly."

When Yoda rose laboriously from the cushion Qui-Gon stood too, and then he escorted the Jedi Master over to the door. Before he left, the tiny alien squinted up at the much taller human, a calculating look in his eyes. "Request the Council does your presence in tonight's meeting."

"Oh," Qui-Gon managed, at a loss of what else to say.

Yoda nodded again to himself. "Reward we do not failure, but insight," he explained. "Attained enough insight you have to receive the rank of Jedi Master, Qui-Gon Jinn. Await you we will."

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Qui-Gon standing dumb-founded and slightly shocked. So that had been the real puspose of Yoda's visit, to test him. He shook his head quickly, and admiration flooded his awareness. Yoda certainly was an adept teacher, and the wisest among the Order's members. Smiling, the Jedi Knight soon to be Jedi Master turned back toward the living-room, to meditate on the future.

Patience. Patience was needed to fight this battle, but Alamys Jorka was hanging on to patience with his teeth, and he longed to simply shred it apart and be free again. But, as it was, Darth Sidious had well and truly incarcerated him in a body that was failing and a mind that was not entirely his own any more. His memory had been reduced to glide-hanging over an abyss of oblivion, and everything he did remember needed to be triggered by some stimulus or other, and then recovered in tedious, meticulous work against a crushing wall of blank space that seemed to fill his head. The Jedi Master had known the effects of the Motha Virus once upon a time, but now he was being hounded by them, and he had no clue how to fight them effectively. All he did know was that he was fighting a losing battle.

His body protested each movement with cramps and stabs of pain, no matter what he did. And his predicament hindered him immensely from carrying out his self-imposed mission of bringing Darth Sidious down. On Nar Shadaa he had begun to establish contacts to informants who might become useful in the future and he was working his way steadily into the inner circles of Sidious' network of agents. But that took time, and in the meantime Sidious could further his plans unpertubed. Frustrated with his lack of success and embattled by the virus, Alamys was gradually losing sight of his goals, though. He was exhausted and confused, and if there was one thing he had realized in his clearer moments, it was that he needed to find a way to contain his illness first, before he could begin anew.

The problem was, that he often tracked down a promising rumour of some remedy and a year later, as if waking from a dream, he would find himself stuck on some planet with not a clue what he was doing there, and how he had survived over the past months. It frightened him to be so helpless, and he wanted to combat the virus with much more force, and yet ... and yet, what was he willing to sacrifice for that? As long as Alamys was unaware of his illness, lost in a stupor of fever and forgetfulness, he was safe from darkness. But the moment his memory was returned, however briefly, he railed against his fate and was still doomed to keep going as he had before.

There is no emotion – There is peace. There is no ignorance – There is knowledge. There is no passion – There is serenity. There is no death – There is the Force.

It was his mantra in those dark moments, the hope he clung to, if there was any hope at all.

To the Jedi Master those waking moments were nightmares, the worst kind, and he sought in vain for a way out. Trying to find a remedy, something, was his sole directive then, and he devoted himself to that goal dilligently, but with less patience each time that game began anew. Sometimes he felt overcome with desperate mirth, watching himself from the outside, a knight in rags chasing after some fairy-tale treasure that he could never reach. For now he had found refuge on Malika, not one step closer to salvation than four years ago. And Alamys felt that soon now he would succumb to the next onslaught of the virus, until he would wake again somewhere strange. Uprooted and homeless, he imagined hismelf wandering the galaxy forever.

No.

He would find a way. Somehow. There had to be that day when he could reclaim his life. Somewhere. Somewhere in the future.

TBC