Angela received a rude awakening the next day. A massive man burst into her room. He practically radiated anger, outrage, and fear.
Though surprised, she hid well her discomfiture, maintaining a calm exterior. She studied her visitor's face, recognized some of the hard lines and imagined them softer, younger. "You're Eve's father," she said simply.
The man nodded stiffly. "I am King Jeb, lord of the valley. You must be Angela Marshair, the Jedi Knight I have heard so much about." He spoke her title with such vitriol that it was shocking.
"I am," Angela confirmed, keeping hold of her Jedi calm. "I wonder why we haven't met?"
"I was visiting some of the outlying villages," he explained tersely. "My duties as lord of the region take me far afield."
"That would explain your rudeness," she said sharply. "I was under the impression that the people of the valley were kindly and compassionate. I find it odd that their king is held to lower standards."
"Don't presume, young woman," the king growled. "I come here not as a ruler, but as a father. I saw the results of your teachings. I will have none of it. You will cease tutoring my daughter in your sorcery."
Angela grimaced. "So that's what this is about. Why are you afraid of her, King Jeb? This is her destiny."
"It took her mother's life!" he retorted angrily. She could hear all the bitterness and sorrow in his pained voice. "I will not have it consume my only child!"
"I knew nothing of that," she said, "but I swear to you that the Jedi ways are not evil. Eve's mother probably didn't have any training. With training, with an instructor, she could have been taught to control her powers—like I'm teaching Eve right now."
"You will stop."
"No. Don't you understand? She'll be more dangerous to you and everyone else if she doesn't finish her training. She would have discovered her powers eventually—she already has—but if I remain at her side, showing her how to use her abilities responsibly, she can be groomed into a protector of your people."
"Our people care for our own, outsider. We need no help from you."
"Then do it for Eve's sake. Let her learn to become what she has to be. It is the will of the Force."
"Your Force brought my family nothing but tragedy."
Angela shook her head. "You do not understand the Force, King Jeb. It isn't evil unless you use it for evil. I want to show Eve how to use it for good."
The king pointed a hard finger at her, an accusing finger. "It is you who do not understand. I spoke with the villagers and with Eve. I know you went into the heart of the Lower Woodlands. I know what you found—artifacts from the past, when the Jedi were strong. You made the assumption that we know nothing of the Force and the Jedi. For most, this would be correct. But not with me. I know."
Angela was taken aback. "Explain," she said curtly. If what King Jeb said was true, then just how much did he know about the Outbound Flight crash site? Did he have the missing piece to the Spaarti cylinder puzzle?
"Decades ago," the king rumbled, "there came a shooting star from the great heavens. They crashed in the Lower Woodlands, which were vital and welcoming in those bygone days. We found survivors amidst the fires and twisted husks of the great metal beasts they called 'starships.' Three men, dressed in alien raiment. They called themselves Jedi Masters, protectors of peace and justice.
"They lived with us for many months and became one with our village. We trusted them and they, us. But then came the betrayal. One of the Jedi Masters savagely murdered his fellows and fled into the Lower Woodlands. Wherever he went, he brought darkness and poison with him. The forest that we once depended on became a vicious jungle of death.
"We never saw the Jedi Master again, but this grisly tale is told to every ruler of the valley, that we may be alert for the return of his evil. You are a Jedi Knight, Angela Marshair, and you, too, can become as evil as that long ago villain."
Angela was subdued by his saga. A Jedi Master—the pinnacle of training and wisdom—corrupted to the dark side. The thought chilled her to the bone. "And you fear that if I train your daughter, she would turn as well. King Jeb, that is folly. She may turn with or without my help. If I teach her, I can at least warn her of the dangers."
He made a cutting gesture with his thick hand. "I won't hear any more of your insolence, Jedi. I have heard the lore of my people and I saw your vaunted Force take my wife from me. I will not let it claim my daughter."
He turned from her and went to the doorway. "I will allow you to remain here, at least until you can figure out a way to leave our world. If you cannot, you must swear to never again use your Jedi magic, or I will have you exiled to the Lower Woodlands. Above all—you will not teach my daughter any more of your Jedi lore. She is the princess of the valley, not a Jedi Knight." With that, the king slammed the door shut.
Left to her own devices, Angela poured over the confrontation in her mind. Much had been revealed, much of great import, but many more questions had arisen. An inkling in the Force hinted that the dark Jedi Master was somehow related to the mysterious cloning cylinders—but the exact relationship remained shrouded to her eyes.
Unbidden, she recalled the legend Eve told her about the Metal Graveyard. The dead would rise if any item of theirs was taken away. Angela steeled herself and girded her tunic and lightsaber. She took meticulous care in pocketing the holocron, ensuring that it was secure in her belt pouch. Perhaps it was her own ingenuity or perhaps it was the Force, but she somehow knew that if she were to solve the mystery of the Outbound Flight, she had to confront its demons.
She had to return to the Metal Graveyard.
I can't let Eve lead me this time, she thought. The poor girl's already in enough trouble because of me. All right, I'll just have to remember everything Ran taught me about wilderness survival.
But first, there were preparations to make. She thought back to her last visit to the Metal Graveyard, and, specifically, to the odd sensation she felt there. Ghosts, poison, Outbound Flight…she could only think of one correlation: a Force spirit. If the spirit in question were that of a dark side entity, as she suspected, then she would need weapons to fight it with.
She looked to the holocron for her armory. She spent almost two hours searching through its memory core, hunting down anything pertinent. When she closed the holocron and tucked it back into her pouch, she felt confident that she could handle whatever lingered at the Metal Graveyard.
She made her way out of the village and into the Lower Woodlands. The darkness of the place—even in midday—still chilled her. It was like some monstrous maw closing around her, trapping her in its moist, hot, black cavity. The sensation, she surmised, was similar to waiting for a throat to swallow its food. Angela suppressed a shudder and concentrated on the task at hand.
Hours passed as she pressed deeper into the forest. The sounds of living predators surrounded her at every turn, but she ignored the reflexive fear she felt as their eyes roamed over her. A Jedi did not know fear, she quietly reminded herself. A Jedi only knows and trusts in the Force. She calmed her mind by falling into a "walking meditative trance" that Ran once showed her. Her nerves settled, the cold sweat of fear evaporated from her neck, her heart stopped running at a light-year a minute.
She floated in a psychic limbo, passively reaching out into the Force. The Lower Woodlands glowed all around her, filled with energy and life. The predators and denizens—from the smallest grub to the largest bear—moved in her awareness. She knew their thoughts, their instincts, and their actions before they took it.
When the forest cat leaped at her, she already knew it was coming and took measures to protect herself. The feline was beautiful: a sleek leaf-green coat striped with black, muscled flanks, padding, confident gait. It eyed her hungrily, teeth bared. But Angela felt only serenity—not a hint of panic entered her heart or slowed her movements. The cat pounced again, but she sidestepped it easily. She raised a hand, turning her palm toward the animal.
"Calm, be calm," she said soothingly, lacing her voice and words with the persuasive power of the Force. The cat was not a sentient, reasoning creature, but that only made it more susceptible to her machinations. Its eyes glazed over, watching her out of curiosity rather than hunger.
She took a bit of dried beef from her belt pouch, a leftover bit of food ration. "Here," she offered kindly. "It isn't much, but it will tide you over until you find something else to eat." The cat lapped up the proffered meat and then licked her hand. "You're really a beautiful cat," she said admiringly, patting its coat once before continuing on.
Fortunately, she crossed no other hungry beasts the rest of the day. She reached the Metal Graveyard just as the sun dipped below the canopy, plunging the pit into twilight.
Standing atop the metal ruins was a man framed in a garish red glow. Black smoke seemed to rise from where he stood, making the crimson light play like blood across his face. Angela clambered down to the pit and joined him, standing no more than a few meters from his hard face.
He looked pained, old, haggard. Lines of despair warred with eyes burning with frustration and hate. Those yellow orbs seemed to glow with their own polluted light. It made Angela think of some jaundiced patients in a sick ward she once visited.
"You must be the Jedi Master that killed his fellows," Angela said. She held out the holocron. "And this must belong to you or one of your former comrades."
"You are very perceptive," the ghost said. Angela thought she heard venom in his voice, but he seemed more…exhausted.
"Not really," the young Jedi countered. "I was told that the dead haunt whoever steals from them. When last I was here, I felt you—your dark side essence. I just put two and two together. Now," she strode up to the specter without fear, "I want some answers. You are no Jedi Master, that is clear—no true Master would fall so, or kill his peers. Who are you?"
The ghost sneered and flashed rotting teeth. "You have no power over me, Jedi."
"You think so?" She raised her hand, palm up, and then slowly curled her fingers into a fist. The ghost lurched and clutched at his abdomen as if extraordinary agony. His mouth opened, but no sound came out.
"I've studied the holocron, spirit," Angela explained calmly. "It's amazing what the Jedi of the old Order knew. Specifically, a technique like this, one they called 'Force light.' Apparently, it can purge the dark side's taint from a place, including any dark side spirits that might be haunting it."
She opened her hand, giving the ghost a moment to recover, and then closed it again. The specter howled this time, and its bloodcurdling scream shook even Angela's steely nerve. She had prepared herself for this confrontation, but still the sound stole the verve from her heart, made her lose a bit of her determination in walking this road. How could such a sound exist? It was full of evil, but full of human pain, too.
Angela finally opened her hand, releasing the ghost from her power. "Now that we understand each other," she said through stiff lips, struggling to maintain her poise and calm, "you're going to answer some questions for me."
"And then what will you do?" the ghost growled hatefully, agony tearing new lines into his face. "Torture me more? Inflict yet more pain upon my twisted, black soul?"
"I'm going to release you," she said, shocking the ghost to silence. She continued, "Whatever you are, I can see that you regret your actions. Yet you cling to your hatred and anger because you feel wronged and bitter about what you did. That much is apparent in the way you hold yourself and in the Force. Help me and I'll help you let go. And then you can finally rest."
The ghost seemed distrustful at first, but finally sighed. "Ask your questions."
Angela smiled, reveling in her victory. "Firstly, who are you?"
"I was known as Jedi Master Quaal Fermin, but my true name is Bloodgrieve. I was an agent of Senator Palpatine."
Angela nodded, taking in the revelation expressionlessly. "I expected his involvement when I saw the Spaarti cylinders," she said. "I suspect that you were sent to assassinate the Jedi Masters on the Outbound Flight ships. My next question—why did Palpatine send an assassin if the project was supposed to fly into Grand Admiral Thrawn's people?"
The ghost looked confused. "I do not know what you speak of."
Angela clicked her tongue in annoyance. "Of course you do. The project was destroyed by the man who would become Grand Admiral Thrawn. He didn't want Republic outsiders creeping into his territory in the Unknown Regions."
"No, that is not what I meant. I was not sent to assassinate anyone. I was sent to obtain DNA samples. After taking them, my next objective was to divert a few shuttles from the main flight group, kill the pilots, take over, and return to Senator Palpatine's side on Coruscant."
"DNA samples," Angela breathed, suddenly realizing what the mission was. "You were supposed to clone the Jedi Masters, weren't you? Palpatine wanted strong, experienced Force-users on his side when he made his bid for power. And the Spaarti cylinders? Why were they onboard? How come they existed before the Clone Wars broke out?"
"Palpatine already had the prototype cylinders built by the time the Outbound Flight project took wing," the ghost answered. "They were hidden on the ships so that I could begin cloning the Masters. These cylinders were designed with neural suppressors, to prevent the clones' brainwaves from functioning properly while inside. This kept the Jedi Masters from sensing the clones' presence during flight."
"But why take the risk?" Angela pressed. "Why would Palpatine bother making clones while the originals were still nearby?"
"Palpatine believed that by making the clones so far away from the hub of the galaxy, there would be little interference from the Force. He knew that the Force was disturbed by the presence of clones created through the Spaarti process. As a result, most Spaarti clones were mentally unstable. This was the only solution he could think of to reduce the chance of instability."
"Palpatine thought of everything," she mused. "So, why did you start going on a rampage here? Why did these ships break away from the main flight group?"
The ghost looked down, suddenly seeming very, very tired. "I, too, am a clone. I was one of Palpatine's first Force-using clones, the first of a new breed of soldier. But I was flawed, for I, too, fell to the mental instability that plagues those created by the Spaarti process."
"So in a fit of madness you crashed these ships on this world. Later, you completely lost it and killed everyone," she summarized.
"Yes."
Angela leaned in close to the ghost's hazy visage. A knowing gleam crept into her eyes. "There's something else, isn't there?" She looked around the pit, noted the slag and dismembered remains of the glorious starships…and the cloning cylinders housed within their shattered hulls. "How many clones did you make? How many survived?"
The ghost was compelled to answer, for the young Jedi held its soul in her power. "Four survived the crash, but only one yet lives. Maddened, forgotten, it is his terror and frustration and uncertainties that pollute this wood."
"Really now? Unusual. My first guess would be that your dark side essence was the cause of this mess."
"My influence extends only to this pit, no further. The clone's power is greater than mine, and his influence is yet greater."
Angela set her hands on her hips. "Well, I can't let that continue. This forest needs to be purified. People fear it, but it is rife with resources and land that they can use. So why don't you tell me where this clone is hiding and I'll let you go?"
"He hides in a castle of earth and wood only a league south of here. Seek him and destroy him, if you wish. Or learn from him, for though insane, he yet retains the knowledge of his progenitor."
"How so?" Angela pressed. "Did you use flash-learning technology?"
The ghost shook its head. "The programming was incomplete, untested. It was not used. Instead, one of my abilities was to replicate the mind of the original within the clone by using the Force. A difficult and esoteric technique, and crude and painful to both caster and recipient, but it is effective."
Those glowing yellow eyes bored into hers, seeking the promise she made. "Now I have told you all I know. Now release me. Let me finally be free of this place."
Angela nodded. "A deal is a deal," she said solemnly. "I release you." She closed her hand into a fist once more, and the dark side spirit vanished, leaving her alone amidst the ruins of dreams and hopes. She looked around sadly. Many had believed in the Outbound Flight. They wanted to expand the territory of the Old Republic. They wanted to learn what lay beyond the Outer Rim. But Palpatine corrupted even that.
"At least Eve can carry any treasure she finds out of this dump," she murmured. But the thought gave her little comfort.
When she turned to continue on her journey, she found Eve waiting for her at the lip of the pit.
"How much did you see?" Angela asked.
Eve smirked. "About everything. I didn't understand much, but I know it was important to you. The only part I really understood was that there's no longer a curse here."
The girl had left the tower after she noticed the Jedi sneaking out earlier that evening. Being far more accomplished at woodcraft than Angela, Eve found it a simple matter to trail her to the Metal Graveyard undetected.
The Jedi looked at her and then through her, her gaze going to the woods beyond. Eve understood what this meant and said, "I want to help you."
Angela shook her head. "I can't let you do that. You've only begun your training. Only a fully-trained Jedi can handle something like this."
Eve pouted, insulted. "I know these lands better than anyone alive," she declared proudly, pounding her chest for emphasis. "I know the land and the animals and where you can get food and water. You wouldn't survive a day out there, looking for this Jedi Master."
"The Force is my ally," Angela replied smoothly. "I will be all right. Besides, I wouldn't want to put you in needless danger."
"I know that Papa told you about my mother," the girl said softly. She saw Angela stop. She continued, "I promise that that won't happen. What you've shown me is a whole universe of possibilities, Angela. Let me repay you for what you've given me. And besides, this is my home—a Jedi protects, and what is more important than to protect your home and family?"
She walked down into the pit and, on impulse, took up Angela's hands, squeezing them tightly. "Please, let me help. If I can make this forest beautiful again, that'll be everything I could ever want."
Angela looked uncertain, afraid for her…and her safety. "A Jedi Master is no simple animal that you can calm with a word," she said at last, "but it may be the will of the Force that you are so adept at speaking with the animals and trees. Stay close to me, mind my actions, and you can come."
Eve smiled broadly, joy lighting in her bright eyes. "I won't let you down, Angela. I promise."
They headed into the forest, slowly making their way southward. The foliage was thicker than normal and the press of life was almost overwhelming. Everywhere they turned, they could hear the baying of predators and the chatter of insects. The smell of dung and sweat and trees was cloying, oppressive, haunting. Even Eve, who spent all her life around such stimuli, was disturbed.
"I've actually never been this far south," she admitted, licking dry lips. "Everything looks…well…different. Like those vines over there—you don't see anything like that near our village. Looks like they have eyes or something."
"Those are eyes, Eve," Angela affirmed in wary tones.
The girl swallowed hard. "Let's hope it doesn't have a mouth. That ghost said that this Jedi Master lived in a castle of earth and wood." She pointed to the east. "There's a river up north that curls that way. Our village uses it for washing. If you look this way from the mountains, you can see a pillar of rock with a few trees growing on it. I guess that would be where the castle is."
"It's worth a look."
They pressed onward. The predators became more vicious, more aggressive. Eve was hard-pressed to calm them when they approached. Sweat beaded on her brow every time a cat or a hound or a bear growled their way. The Force flowed through her in waves, but she only barely managed to turn away the animals each time. Eve grew increasingly more worried, fearing that her power over the forest creatures would not be enough to help.
Angela patted her shoulder. "Hey, don't get discouraged," she said suddenly, breaking Eve from her self-pity. "You're doing the best you can and it's a damn shade more than what I can do. The Jedi Master's influence is very strong here. I can feel it. He's probably trying to block your ability."
Eve pouted. "That's not fair at all," she groused.
"No, but it makes sense. Your powers over nature make you very formidable."
The girl brightened a bit by the older Jedi's praise, and she pointed toward the east with renewed verve. "We have about a half hour's walk left. We'll be there in no time at all."
Her estimation held true, and they stood before the castle. A pillar of rock, possibly a leftover relic from a bygone earthquake, stabbed into the sky like a deadly knife. There were no trees growing around it, leaving an empty barren clearing around it. But twisted perversions of oaks grew on the pillar itself like spindly thorns, giving the rock the look of a barbed arrowhead.
Eve felt cold fear chill her soul. There was no reason for the sensation, for there was nothing frightening before her, but still she felt it. She could not move, could not breathe. She could only stand there and look upon the castle with growing terror.
She noticed that Angela's fingers trembled as well, her jaw locked tight to keep from chattering her teeth. The Jedi said grimly, "This is the dark side we're feeling. It is very strong here. The Jedi Master must have gone truly mad—into the realm of darkness—for him to pollute the land so."
"This…is…horrible," Eve murmured shakily. "I can feel it gnawing at me from within. Angela, how are you going to beat this thing? It feels so strong! By the trees, I can't even move."
"Don't succumb," the Jedi said sternly. "Evil feeds on fear. Hide it, ignore it, do whatever you have to—but don't ever give in to it."
The girl nodded, shivering but trying desperately to stop. With great effort, she put one foot in front of the other, and then did it again. And again. And again. Each step took her closer to the pillar of rock, where she could see an elaborate indentation in its surface—cut to look like a chair.
"It's a throne," she noted. She was still focusing all her being into moving. A flash of robes caught her attention and she turned to look. "Angela," she breathed, "there he is."
Stepping from behind the throne-shaped alcove was a withered husk of a man. Bearded, wrinkled, and gray-skinned, he looked like a desiccated corpse rather than a human. His tattered robes hung about him, stained in filth, grime, and blood. His eyes, once brown and shining, were muddied, bleak, confused.
Eve felt repulsion and wanted nothing more than to flee this terrifying creature's presence. But she held to her heart, told herself that she was the princess of the valley, who had braved the Lower Woodlands again and again. And now she had the Force. She had nothing to fear.
She believed it. The chill subsided a bit and she found it easier to move.
Angela stepped forth, looking the Jedi Master in the eye. "You're the clone I've been looking for," she said simply.
The clone exploded into rage. "Clone? No! I am the true, the original! They spoke lies, lies, lies!" Blue lightning crackled around him, struck earth and stone, sending divots into the air. Eve let out a scream of surprise. The Force, pure and raw, was before her like an unstoppable storm.
"Eve!" Angela cried. "Stay down. Let me handle—" She never got a chance to finish. A bolt of lightning smashed into her chest, sending her flying into the tree line. She hit the trunk hard and crumpled like a rag doll. Eve stood alone against the glowing elemental energies of a dark side master, driven insane by his power.
Terror seized her and she backed away one step at a time. The clone advanced one menacing step for every one she took. Her breath came in hard gasps; his was a series of wretched inhalations that made him look all the more terrible.
Then Eve felt the hard wood of a tree at her back. She had nowhere to run. That was when she saw Angela lying comatose and helpless. Something broke inside her, then. A Jedi is supposed to protect, but how was she supposed to protect anyone if she was afraid?
The answer came to her, an answer so simple she already knew it, but simply did not understand it: Don't fear. Originally, those words were just that—mere words. But now she could feel them reverberate within her. Now, she could let go of her fear. She just had to trust in the Force…and more importantly, in herself.
"I," she started haltingly. She licked her lips and tried again. "I won't let you hurt my friend, and I definitely won't let you hurt me!"
Help me! she thought wildly, sending her call to the life around her. She was no powerful Jedi Knight and she had no lightsaber to fight with. Even the sword of her ancestors, still hanging at her side, was useless in a battle like this. But she was not helpless. Fear could make her forget that, could make her as helpless as a newborn babe. But she was not afraid anymore. Her weapons were all around her, she knew now.
"Help me!" she cried aloud. The clone sent a storm of lightning her way. "HELP ME!"
The lightning exploded around her, scorching hot, searing hot, blinding hot…but not one bolt touched her. She looked around in wonder and confusion. Then she smiled widely. Tree branches surrounded her. The wood had come to her aid, just like she wanted. "Thank you," she whispered gratefully.
Her fingers caressed the burned bark tenderly. "I knew you would help me. You may be under his influence, but I'm your friend. I've walked among you as one of you. Now please, do one more thing for me—hold him down."
Suddenly, the roots of the trees erupted from beneath the broken land around the pillar, surging with a life of their own. They wrapped around the clone like giant serpents. He raged madly, lightning streaking across the sky, but harming nothing. He was rendered impotent, useless, defenseless by the very forest he had corrupted.
Eve stood before his hapless visage, safe and protected by the woods. "Please, just surrender," she pleaded gently. "I don't want to hurt you. I want to help you. Please, don't make us kill you."
Like a caged animal, the clone lashed out, but his powers dimmed to nothing, clutched as he was beneath the forest. Slowly, surely, he calmed as he expended her fear and his anger. He became as docile as a lamb, mewling in fright and sorrow. Eve commanded the roots to release him and cradled the withered man's head in her arms.
"It will be all right," she murmured soothingly, as if talking to a terrified animal. "Just relax. We're going to help you. We're Jedi—we'll help you."
She heard Angela groan and stand, but she kept on consoling the clone. "I saw the whole thing," Angela said softly behind her. "I was just going to kill him and be done with it," she admitted shamefacedly, "but looks like you have everything well in hand." A smirk crept across her features. "You might be a better Jedi than me, Eve."
The girl blushed at the praise. "You flatter me, Angela. But all I did was do what I usually do."
"Then you already have the makings of a great Jedi Knight," Angela replied sincerely.
"I'm sorry, so very sorry," the clone whimpered suddenly. "Please, I just want to be left alone."
Eve smiled warmly in understanding. She released her tender hold and stood away. "We'll tell everyone to stay away from here, all right? We don't want to bother you. But promise me that you won't corrupt this forest anymore. We love this land of ours. We want to see it green and safe and welcoming again."
The clone nodded, his murky eyes clear and cognizant—probably for the first time in decades. When she spoke, it was with the sincerity of a Jedi Master, "I will, you have my solemn word."
The girl's bright smile grew brighter. Already, she could feel the dark pall abate from the grim forest around her. "Do you mind if I visited you once in a while?" she asked innocently. "Angela will be leaving eventually, but I would still like to learn the ways of the Jedi."
"I…I think I would appreciate the company," the clone replied quietly. "I will try to be a good teacher, if that is what you wish."
"Teacher or simply a friend," Eve returned. "Either way, I'll be sure to visit."
The clone smiled. "I would like that very much."
