Jacen Solo hurried after his sister toward the centre of the camp, where Klatoun Arden was talking rapidly to some of the senior members of the strike team. Grim faces could be found all around, and Jacen felt pretty uneasy as he and Jaina sidled closer to the growing assembly. Jaina, totally unabashed, pushed her way through the crowd toward Klatoun, demanding, "What is going on?"
"A Sith Lord," the Padawan explained, his face flushed with excitement and his eyes feverish with anticipation. "A real Sith Lord! He's called Lyve," he added, glancing at the older Jedi, in hopes for any recognition of the name on their part.
One of the elders indeed gave a solemn nod. "Lyve Waroon, yes," he murmured. "He left us over twenty years a ago. A promising Jedi Knight." The man's eyes turned very stern. "His fate should be an example to you, how easily one can fall to darkness."
"Master La'ruus asked for reinforcements," Klatoun continued doggedly. "We must join him at once."
"Indeed," the older Jedi Knight replied. "I do not want any Padawans with us, but you, Klatoun, can come. Be careful, though, and remain at a safe distance."
"We are coming too," Jacen blurted out, excitement mingling with terror in his mind. He had an inkling of who that Sith Lord might be. Lyve Waroon, as far as he recalled had been sire to Roj Kell.
"Your masters should teach you respect for your elders," the Jedi Knight retorted sharply. "You will stay, young Jacen."
Realising the danger of his drawing attention to them at last, Jacen clamped his mouth shut, but threw a desperate glance at his sister. Jaina was gazing at Klatoun, cool calculation in her eyes. She joined her brother presently, whispering, "We can't let them begin this massacre. No matter what. We may not be able to change the future, but we can prove that we are true Jedi." She gave him a challenging look. "Is that not our directive? To protect life at all costs?"
Jacen gave a solemn nod. "Yes, it is. But let's try to keep cool, sister. We are not here to fight a war. We cannot save them all by ourselves." He saw his sister's eyes widen as she realised what he meant. There was only one man who could prevent this slaughter, and that man was Lyve Waroon himself. He nodded, "Yes. If we can convince him to surrender, if we can convince the Jedi that these people are not at all evil, then we might have a chance."
"Those odds are not at all reassuring," she replied softly. "Jacen, if we take his side we will betray ourselves."
"Indeed." His voice was firm. "This is a test, Jaina, has to be. We will have to stand up for what we have been taught, the way Uncle Luke always did and Mom still does even as a politician. We have to take that risk."
Jaina hesitated. "Do you truly think this is what he wants us to do?"
He shrugged. "Only one way to find out, right?" When he saw Jaina's eyes widen in response to something happening behind him he whirled around, startled, "What is - "he began, then fell silent, mouth agape.
Five men were walking into the camp, one of them Master La'ruus, the others all strangers, but one was familiar too, in his own way. Strangely familiar. Dressed in primitively fashioned pants and shirt the man bore himself with a dignity that made Jacen wonder whether the Sith Lord knew what he was facing at all. There was no fear in his eyes, on his features, only calm resignation. And La'ruus too, Jacen saw, seemed very calm and composed. But there was something lurking in his gaze, something Jacen had no trouble identifying: triumph. The two of them stepped into the circle of Jedi in silence, and it took some time for one of the assembled knights and masters to finally speak. The other three men were employees of the hunting franchise, Jacen guessed, and they stayed well back, listening.
"Master La'ruus," the oldest, Master Tron Wyse, a giant Ithorian, intoned at last. "Who have you brought before us?" His voice seemed strangely distorted by the fact that he was speaking out of two mouths, but his words were clearly audible.
To Jacen's surprise it was the Sith Lord who replied. "My name is Lyve Waroon. A few of you might still remember me," he added, nodding at the assembly in general. There was a bit of feet-shuffling and assenting murmurs. "Long years ago I and a few of my comrades came to Os'jen'thana to scout for a new base for the Sith Order," he continued, "but I was the only one who survived this planet."
"Is this world so dangerous, then?" Tron asked gently. "Or the clans the hunters fear so greatly even now?
Lyve quirked a cool smile. "Not really," he answered. "The simple reason was that I killed all the others."
If there had been any doubt as to who this man was, that comment was so reminiscent of his son that Jacen almost smiled. Since neither of the other Jedi present had ever heard of Roj Kell their response was quite different.
"Killed them?" Tron repeated, aghast. But then he shook his head as if he wanted to say that he had not expected anything else from a Sith Lord. "You betrayed your comrades."
"They sough to destroy the clan," Lyve shrugged. "I could not let them do that."
It was Master La'ruus who asked, "Could not, or would not?" A frown of suspicion marred his forehead.
"Could not," Waroon explained, seemingly uncomfortable with his own answer. "I had no choice in that regard."
"And why not?"
"The Cor'dan, the clan's spiritual leader, had recognised the danger our group posed and had selected me as most potential weapon to neutralise that threat. She - made me - kill the others."
"A truly monumental feat for a savage witch to conquer the trained mind of a former Jedi Knight," Tron huffed. "Hardly credible."
Lyve Waroon hesitated. Then he said, "That depends. I realised the validity of her decision later on. I would have done the same in her place, probably."
"Because you are a Sith," La'ruus suggested, "and you have just confirmed what we already suspected. These people meddle with the Dark Side. I say we investigate further. This Cor'dan," he continued, addressing Waroon once more, "could she be spoken to?"
Warily, Waroon shook his head. "No. She is not Cor'dan any longer. She is not the one you want."
Jacen noticed a hint of evil flash in the back of the hunters' minds then and he felt his heart skip a beat. Did Waroon know what advantage he had just given away by telling them that their most powerful adversary, the protector of the clan, was no longer in a position to oppose them?
Master La'ruus turned to face the former Jedi Knight in some bewilderment. "What do you mean? Who is their spiritual leader then? Do they succeed one another?"
The Sith Lord grew even more uncomfortable, and for some reason he kept glancing at Jacen and Jaina. "He has left for a while to find his way," he explained at last, leaving his answer as ambiguous as possible.
That way the men and women surrounding him could not know whether that meant that the Cor'dan was off-world or if he was still on planet. And Jacen had an inkling of who that Cor'dan was. A shiver ran down his spine then at the thought of meeting Roj Kell in person, but then he reminded himself that Kell was probably just now beginning his apprenticeship to Exar Kun. For a brief moment he regretted that they could not change the past after all. What would have happened if Kell had never left Os'jen'thana? If he had never met Exar Kun? He quickly stopped that train of thought. The possibilities simply were too depressing. Reminding himself of their own mission he edged closer toward his sister. "What do you think he is planning?" he asked very softly, and Jaina glanced over at Klatoun, as if for reassurance, much to her brother's annoyance.
"All I know is that for some reason a little voice in the back of my mind keeps insisting that he is not who he seems," she replied, her voice low. "I keep finding myself thinking he's really Khameir."
Jacen stared at her. "What? But that's impossible!"
Her answer was delivered in a very dry tone. "Really? Look at us, then, back in the past, or someone's memory of the past, and tell me again that's impossible." She glared hard at the fidgeting Sith Lord. "We should talk to him as soon as possible."
They watched as Master La'ruus and the older Jedi took the Sith Lord in their midst and led him toward one of the ships, to be questioned, Jacen guessed. Then Klatoun joined them, his face flushed with excitement. "What an adventure!" the young man exclaimed, beaming. "What do you say, should we go scout out the village? Perhaps we will even uncover the Cor'dan's hiding place," he suggested enthusiastically.
But neither Jacen nor his sister were overly taken by his proposal. The twins shared a glance, then Jaina gently put a hand on Klatoun's forearm and began to walk him away, "You know," Jacen heard her say, "perhaps we should leave this to our elders. If that Cor'dan could alter the mind of a Dark Jedi, what would he do to us?"
What indeed, Jacen thought to himself, but his eyes wandered toward the distant mountains of Os'jen'thana and he wondered what secrets were hidden up there. And he wondered whether it had been Liyuma who had sent Khameir to their aid. But why disguised as Sith Lord? What was he trying to accomplish with this scheme? He shuddered at the thought of being no more than a pawn in one of Kell's devious machinations, unable to affect the events that had swept them up like a storm that again threatened to destroy everything that had grown since the end of the war. Until they had not uncovered Liyuma's motives they could not be certain whether their actions would bring salvation to the Jen-people, or disaster.
Khameir hoped he had done the right thing by surrendering. He thought that if he eliminated the threat he posed to the Jedi they would be more amenable to listening to him when he explained that the Jen were in no way dangerous. But perhaps he had revealed too much already by mentioning the Cor'dan and his power, especially since Alda had sent their son away. Their son. My stars! Khameir shook his head violently, trying to gain some measure of control over the dead man's mind. He felt uncomfortable wearing this unfamiliar skin and he found that Lyve Waroon had not been a nice man at all. A loving husband and father, perhaps, but the things he had done, first in service to the Sith, then in order to protect his people - Not nice at all. Khameir could well imagine how the Sith Lord had reacted to the Jedi's presence on Os'jen'thana. He would have attacked them, thus condemning himself and the clan to die. Was that what Alda Magor wanted her son to realise? That it had been his father's darkness that had doomed their people? That he had been wrong in following the Dark Side too? Well. From what he knew of the man's history he had never given much thought on the differences between dark and light. He had made his own rules, always, and his sole directives had been knowledge and survival.
And what were Jacen and Jaina doing here? Their presence had come as a shock. If he had reached this past through the memories of Kell and Waroon, how had they come to be here? He remembered the voice that had spoken gently to him when his spirit had merged with that of Lyve Waroon, both soothing and terrible. Soothing, because it was so beautiful, and terrible, because Khameir had known exactly whose voice that had been. And he did not trust that man an inch. No matter what. Then why are you here? he asked himself then, bitterly. Why had he accepted this mission at all? Because it had seemed right, somehow. What if he had been manipulated even back then? Again he shook his head.
"Are you having difficulties?" an unfamiliar voice asked then, and he looked at the Twi'lek female who had been assigned to guard him while the rest of the Jedi discussed what to question him about.
Khameir shook his head. "No difficulties," he explained. "Doubts, I would rather say."
"Are you regretting your choice? That you surrendered?" she pressed him, sounding curious.
He gave her a mild smile. "No. Should I?"
The Twi'lek leaned back in her chair and looked at him in silence for some time. Then she gave a tiny shake of her head in a very human gesture. "I hope not. I heard you say these people are harmless. And yet they managed to twist your own mind to serve their ends. How does that go together?"
"Would it surprise you if I told you that the woman who did that to me became my wife? That she chose me as champion for her people and took me as her mate later on? She is not evil, never was. She merely has a different view on life than we do." He shuddered at the fierceness of Lyve's emotional response. It was frightening to experience the ferocity of his feelings, the utter commitment he felt toward his wife and his people. It was raw and brutal, not at all what Khameir was used to. "Her view is much simpler than ours," he continued softly.
"Barbaric," the woman was quick to add. Her expression had turned very stern. "To have you kill your comrades -"
"They were bent on destroying her people. What would you have had her do? Sit by quietly and watch as her clan was being slaughtered? The same as you plan to do now?"
"We have no wish to harm anyone. We are here to investigate," she corrected him curtly, her forehead creasing into a frown. "There have been complaints. Rumours."
"Do not get me wrong," Khameir replied wryly. "I am grateful that you came. I fear that else the traders and hunters might have taken so-called justice in their own hands."
The Twi'lek's eyes narrowed. "They have been attacked."
"For a reason."
"Which was?"
"The traders cheated the clan, the hunters molested them. They are looking down on what they call primitives, brutes, sorcerers. They do not understand the value of life."
"They are hunters," the Jedi Knight reminded him wryly.
"Indeed." For a moment Khameir let Lyve's own memories flash before his inner eye at the mention of the hunters. He saw his son - Lyve's son, whose deadly grace made him part of the wilderness of the swamps as he gave chase - run down a swift-footed equine that had lost its way on the moor and kill it with breath-taking ease. And suddenly a voice was in his head, Lyve's voice, rough and deep, that said, as if to himself, There is no grace in killing, no beauty to death. Khameir felt his mind go blank at that. He was right! Force, he was so right! And this revelation confirmed that his own decision to surrender was still valid. Violence was the wrong way. He had to convince them in a different way to spare his people.
"What will they do with him?" Jaina asked, seated on the same tree trunk she had occupied previously alongside Jacen. This time, though, it was Klatoun who shared her perch above the running water.
He shrugged. "Question him, I suppose." he threw a glance at the three hunters who had followed the Jedi to the ships. "What do you think they are talking about?" he asked softly.
Jaina looked up quickly, then extended her senses, seeking to overhear the three men's conversation. "…weak fools," she heard the seeming leader say angrily. "These Jedi will only admonish us to not encroach on those savages' hunting grounds, tell us to leave them alone, ruin our business. I say we take matters into our own hands," he growled.
"You're really good at that," Klatoun told her then, very suddenly, and broke her concentration. Jaina gave him an angry frown, then craned her neck to keep an eye on the hunters as they slowly retreated toward the barracks that marked this hunting franchise's major settlement. "Your master must be very adept at teaching," he continued, and finally Jaina acknowledged him, saw the curiosity in his eyes.
"That she is," she replied briskly. "One of the greatest Jedi I know. She is a great diplomat too," she added sweetly, "but unfortunately the art of diplomacy is lost on me. So, nerf-brain, why don't you make yourself useful and fetch Jacen? I believe we are going to get our own adventure," she added grimly, and nodded huts and shacks of the hunting franchise. More men were milling about them now, and some carried weapons in their hands. Klatoun followed her gaze and arched his brows.
"What in Force's name are they doing?" he wondered aloud.
"Next time listen instead of ogling me," Jaina snapped and rose from her perch. "Come! We need to hurry!"
"Jaina!" he called after her, "What is going on?" His long legs put him next to her moments later and he put a hand on her shoulder, forcing her to stop. "If there's anything useful you've overheard you should go contact Master La'ruus," he told her earnestly.
Jaina nodded in acquiescence, but said. "Then go and tell him that these hunters will attack the clan to sort this out. They won't wait on the Jedi's judgement. Tell them, and have Waroon lead you to his village. Jacen and I will scout the area. Hurry!" And with those words she left him, calling for her brother.
Jacen, who had been speaking to a few other Padawan came running over to meet her and she hurriedly explained what was going on. He merely nodded, then quickly flashed his lightsaber at her to show that he was armed. Jaina slapped her forehead hard, and shook her head. Her own sabre was still lying in the small cabin they shared aboard one of the ships. Incredible, how easy it was to play blind passenger on a Jedi mission. No one had questioned them. Yet. But Jaina had no illusions that her warning would merit the older Jedi's closer scrutiny of the siblings' origins and teachers. No time to sort that out now. They needed to leave as soon as possible. Perhaps they could even warn the Jen in time and Alda Magor could lead them to safety, buy them time. Hurtling up the ramp of the Star Tide, Jaina was too preoccupied with the mission ahead to notice the subtle changes in the mood that permeated the ship. And then someone grabbed her arm brutally, and she was being dragged along by a sinister looking Jedi Knight she did not know, into a conference room where Noci La'ruus, Tron Wyse and a number of other senior members of the team were waiting for her. A moment later Jacen was hustled inside too, accompanied by a grim-faced Klatoun Arden. The twins shared a look of despair, but then Jacen stepped forward, squaring his shoulders, and addressed the small assembly earnestly.
"I could imagine you have some questions for us," he said, "first of all concerning our masters." he nodded at Jaina, who flashed him a quick smile. "Our masters are Leia Organa Solo, Luke Skywalker and Anakin Skywalker. We have had other teachers over time, but those are the ones who have taught us everything about the Force we know."
"Neither name is familiar," Master La'ruus countered, "and I have taken the liberty to check on your names. You are not on the passenger list. Anywhere. How do you explain that?"
"They could be spies," the Jedi Knight who had escorted Jaina suggested from where he stood at the door. "Sith spies."
Jacen mouthed an 'I-told-you-so' at his sister, but she wasn't even looking at him. Instead her large brown eyes were turned on the Jedi Masters. "I know this must sound strange to you," she assured them, "but we are no spies. We are no Dark Jedi either."
"Prove it," Noci La'ruus told her bluntly. "Why are you here?"
"A boy," she tried, "He led us here. His name is Liyuma."
"And who is this Liyuma?"
She hesitated, and Jacen understood her dilemma. She could hardly tell them that Liyuma would once grow up to become the Jedi Order's most annoying enemy. And the most dangerous. On the other hand, it was worth a try to make them see what their interference might spark. Before his sister could answer Jacen hurried to speak. "Forgive us, masters, but this is not easily explained. We embarked on a mission to uncover a conspiracy located on Bakura, but that mission was foiled by an enemy ploy. We landed here on this desolate world instead. This boy, Liyuma, thought we were Jedi and thought us to be safe with you. Which was why he led us to you."
"This does not explain why you did not speak before us to explain yourselves earlier. You have been with us for a few days now, keeping your secrets, trying to blend in. I find your tale hard to believe, and your eyes tell me that you lie, or withhold the truth. Why don't you just be honest with us?" Master La'ruus asked mildly enough. "Klatoun claimed that you, young lady, believe that the hunters will be taking matters into their own hands and go after the clan. What makes you think so?"
"A vision," she answered desperately. "A vision of the future. They will destroy the clan and unwittingly sow the seeds for the Jedi Order's destruction. There will be only one survivor, and he will swear to avenge his people and fight you for all his life."
"One man? I do not believe that is a threat we can take seriously," the Jedi Knight standing beside the door offered sarcastically.
"Don't underestimate him," Jacen injected then, joining Jaina's side. "He is more powerful than you can know, and he is not bound by the rules of civilisation. His deeds will doom the Order, if you do not prevent it."
"I see that you have shared that vision," La'ruus suggested dryly. "How extraordinary. Still, your story is hardly convincing. No. We will investigate this matter closely. We will question Lord Waroon, question you, and decide."
"At least have your men keep an eye on the hunters and make sure they go nowhere near the clan," Jacen asked miserably. "They must not be destroyed. They are only living their lives, they mean no harm. No matter who Lyve Waroon once was, he is not that man any longer. He has changed. For good. Try to see beyond what you know of the Sith. Please. I beg you."
"Your masters, I assume, are Sith, then?" Tron Wyse demanded then, and Jacen felt his face flush with anger.
"If your really want to know the truth then yes, Anakin Skywalker was Dark Lord of the Sith, the last, and he is our grand-father. Does that satisfy you? You know nothing of the future!" he continued to rail. "But we do! Destroy the Jen and suffer the consequences, if you are too blind and foolish to figure them out now!"
"Jacen," Jaina urged him then, shaking her head. "Are you mad?"
"Mad? Mad? You bet I'm mad! They only see what they want to see, and that's a Sith Lord, a former Sith Lord, whom they've declared to be evil and a threat to their mission. They don't even know why they're here, what they are supposed to do! Look at them!" he all but screamed. "They are sitting there discussing instead of protecting the clan from those profiteering marauders that have taken possession of the Jen's home planet! That is the crime here, not Lyve Waroon's past! That the Jedi do not care!" He heaved a deep breath. "Kell was right. There is no dark or light, only selfishness and selflessness. He sacrificed his life to help us see it. I say we prepare to do the same." He saw the fear in her eyes, the utter denial of his suggestion, but what was he to say? What was he to do? These Jedi were so stubborn! And they would not listen! They would not even believe the truth! Yet if they let them investigate, let them take their time, the Jen would be lost no matter what. "They died, all of them," he whispered softly, his gaze softening as he met his sister's eyes. "Do you want that massacre to be laid at your feet, because we were unable to prevent it? Even if we cannot change the past, we can make the effort. That is what he wants us to do. To prove ourselves as guardians. "
She gave a mute nod, then went forward to take his hand. "You are right. We fight from day to day. Is not that what Mother always says?"
"She was referring to politics," he reminded her with a grin.
"Makes no difference," she shrugged lightly. "We'll have to manage either way."
"This is all very lovely," La'ruus said then, his tone dry. "All those hints at sacrifice, massacres. Cute, indeed. You certainly mean what you say. If there is any truth to your tale we cannot ascertain here, it appears. Therefore you will be put under arrest until this more immediate crisis is resolved. We will continue this conversation at a later point of time. For now, I believe we should busy ourselves with questioning Lyve Waroon. Perhaps he, at least, has something useful to offer. Ikur," he addressed the knight positioned beside the door, "I want you to speak to those hunters and keep an eye on them. Tell them they are not to investigate on their own. We will handle this."
"As you wish, Master La'ruus," Ikur replied smoothly, then left.
Once he was gone the Jedi Master turned to face the astonished twins. "You see, my young friends, we do listen to some of what you have to say. And perhaps you should witness our questioning our friend Lyve too. I am curious to see how he reacts to your presence."
His Twi'lek guard bounded to her feet the moment the lock clicked open and Noci La'ruus entered along with a few of his comrades. To Khameir's surprise there were also three Padawan present, among them Jacen and Jaina. The third youth he did not know, of course, but the twins mustered him strangely, and his heart cried out to them, urging them to recognise their cousin. There was a flicker of recognition in Jaina's mind, then wonder. Jacen was a bit slower to respond, but then they looked at each other and turned questioning glances back at him. Suppressing a grin, Khameir focused his attention back on the Jedi. Noci had been watching the silent exchange that had gone on between the Sith Lord and the twins and he was frowning now.
"Do you know each other?" he asked.
Khameir shook his head. "No. I have never seen them before." Well, technically that was even true. Lyve Waroon had never met them in his life-time.
"The Cor'dan is his wife, the one who bewitched him," the Twi'lek reported suddenly, and Noci's gaze turned stern.
"Is that so? And you do not, by any chance, have a son named Liyuma?"
Khameir saw Jaina blush at that and checked his response quickly. Obviously Jaina had mentioned that name, and if he - "I have a son, yes, but his name is Roj Kell," he answered then, scolding himself for not having thought of that simple response at once. that was not even a lie. Liyuma had become Roj Kell on his fifth birthday, his Naming Day. "and Alda Magor is my wife, that is true."
"Who, then, is now acting as spiritual leader of the clan? You claimed your wife no longer holds that post," the Jedi Master pressed on. Khameir kept silent. "Very well. These youths claim that the hunting franchises will seek to destroy the clan themselves, that we should take the clan's side and defend them. Do you share that view?"
"I do not want them harmed," Khameir replied. "They are not evil. Not at all."
"Yet the hunters claim you attacked them, that there are witches and wizards among the clan who threaten them."
"There are no sorcerers among the clan. There is only the Cor'dan. His magic is harmless, compared to the power the Jedi command." He heard Jacen give an incredulous laugh at that and saw Jaina's eyes bulged in disbelief. Damn! Could they not be a little more in control of their emotions? He knew very well that that was not entirely true. "It is true that my son was involved in some of these confrontations," he continued then. "He does not understand why the hunters do what they do. He has no concept of the rules that define a civilised society."
"Then the failure of teaching him those is yours, is it not?" Noci suggested.
"Hardly. On Os'jen'thana the Jen have lived their own lives. They follow different rules. There are no conflicts that extend beyond the aggrieved parties. And if a conflict cannot be settled peacefully the Cor'dan is asked to mediate."
"Then why has that Cor'dan not tried to mediate between the clan and the hunters?"
A well-founded question. Unfortunately it had been answered already. Because he had no concept of how to deal with them. They did not understand him and he could not cope with their aggressions against him and his people. It was his father's failure, in a small measure, but once initiated as Cor'dan, his son had forgone all guidance his parents might offer, sacrificing more than his life to bind himself to his office. Khameir did not understand all of it and he suspected that Lyve had understood only little more than he did. Fact was that there were no rules for the Cor'dan, as both Kell and Grandfather had proven time and time again.
Khameir was conscious of the others' eyes on him, but what was he to say? He briefly closed his eyes, then shook his head. "I am not responsible for the Cor'dan's actions. He is answerable only to himself. Whatever his reasons, I cannot judge his actions."
He caught Jacen glaring at him and guiltily ducked his head. Of course he could judge his actions. And condemn them. The power of the Cor'dan relied on balance, and that balance also lay in those opposing the warrior-priest in his endeavours. The reason for Kell's games, one of them, had been exactly that.
"Then, as I see it, we should settle the hunters' grievances with this Cor'dan," Noci said at last, finding that he was not getting anywhere with this conversation. "In fact, if you could tell us where - "
The door opened in a whoosh and in came a frantic looking Padawan. "Masters! Knight Ikur has been attacked by the employees of the hunting franchise! They are moving out! You must come at once!"
La'ruus was shocked. "Was he injured?"
"Yes! Please, I think they are planning something stupid!"
"Like wiping out my people," Lyve Waroon growled and rose from his seat. Khameir was barely able to control the Sith Lord's spirit. Dark power hissed and spat at the edges of his mind, assaulting his reason, demanding entrance into his heart. But he refused them, knowing that he needed to remain calm.
"You stay here!" Noci snapped at him, then motioned for the Twi'lek to resume her guard duties. "Defy me in this," he continued, a warning directed at the Sith Lord, "and all your efforts will have been for naught. I could almost believe that what you say is true, almost. But I cannot trust you yet."
For a moment their eyes met and Khameir could see regret in the other man's eyes. Lyve and Noci had been friends, once. He nodded his assent then, but his heart tightened with worry. "Protect them," was all he said, and then the Jedi left once more.
Jacen and Jaina, left under lock and key in their cabin aboard the Star Tide, both felt grim. True, the three of them had managed to convince Noci La'ruus that there might indeed some truth to their words, but what if the Jedi were too late? And, furthermore, what if they were forced to fight the hunting franchise to protect the Jen? If their directive from Coruscant had been to act in defence of the hunting franchises themselves, then Master La'ruus was would be in trouble if he now took the accused party's side. To Jacen and Jaina, who had been brought up to set their own judgement above what other - culturally or socially biased - people might call justice, the course of action was clear. Protect the Jen and thus prevent a genocide. And yet, both felt that they had not accomplished all they could have on their mission.
"We failed," Jacen sighed, voicing their misgivings aloud. And he felt that mostly that failure was his fault. He had been intimidated by Khameir's handling of his own interrogation, astonished at how easily his young cousin found the right words, the right arguments, to bring his point across. Of course, Jacen told himself, La'ruus had already been infected by the twin's defence of the Jen, but he also knew that he himself had reacted far too emotional. He had to learn to remain calmer. Looking over at his sister he found her apparently deep in thought. "What's up?" he asked, sensing that something was bothering her.
She frowned at him. "You know, I have a feeling that we are being manipulated into something we don't understand. Why this charade? Why did he send us here at all? To prove our maturity? Somehow I doubt that."
"But that's what he always did," her brother reminded her. "He let others measure their darkness against his, until they either understood their own limits or else succumbed to their own evil deeds."
"Are we evil then? Is what we are trying evil?"
He shook his head. "No way. We are trying to save lives. And we've been shown our limits quite clearly, don't you agree?" he added wryly. "And Khameir was so good!" he rolled his eyes in exasperation. "What are we doing wrong? What?"
"We don't accept failure," Jaina whispered suddenly, and her voice was to full of sadness that Jacen found himself hurtling across the room to stand before her, concern radiating off him like heat waves.
"Jaina, what - "
"They could not prevent the killing," she told him then, so very quiet, "Cant you feel it?"
Jacen froze. he had been so preoccupied with analysing their short-comings that he had completely screened out the currents of the Force to be able to focus on his own thoughts. But now he felt what Jaina had sensed much earlier. It was terrible. Sharp flashes of despair, fleeting hope, anger and fear wove a black web of suffering that settled heavily on their minds. "My stars," the young Jedi breathed. "What is going on?" With a cry of anguish he threw himself at the door then, started banging on the smooth surface relentlessly. "Help!" he screamed. "Help! Let us out at once! This is an emergency!"
"Shut up!" someone shouted back, and Jacen, face flushed with emotion, stood back, aghast.
"Too late," he said at last and hung his head in defeat as he turned to face Jaina once more. "There is nothing we can do any more."
"There is."
Her soft voice seemed terribly out of place in the sea of misery he planned on drowning himself in. He gazed at her sharply, but she seemed sincere. "What can we do?"
"Come. Come here," she asked. He followed her gentle order and knelt before her, clasping her hands. She met his expectant gaze earnestly, and tears were in her eyes. "Do you remember my vision when I first met Liyuma? How Kell stood by and watched the Yevetha kill their own, even though he so much wanted to prevent that slaughter he himself had initiated? The Cor'dan is not an independent entity," she continued, "he is a tool for the Force. But even if we cannot prevent the deaths of the Jen-People, we can ease their souls. I watched him do the same with the Yevetha. Will you trust me in this?"
His throat constricted by fear and sorrow Jacen simply nodded. He could sense her through the special bond they shared, which made each an extension of the other, and he watched Jaina's awareness edge cautiously toward the black strands of anguish that held the two Jedi fast. There was only peace in her mind and a desire to help, to soothe the pain and grief of the dying and injured, to be there for them in their final moments, to lead them toward death with a gentle hand. Jacen remembered then what Grandfather had once told them about the belief of the Jen-People, that their Naming ceremony bound the worlds of the spirits and the living together, that they believed that life and death were one. Jacen realised how difficult it was to fully commit to such a belief, and he knew for certain that Roj Kell, the last Cor'dan of the Jen-People, had managed. He had never been afraid to die. And so Jacen reached out himself, banishing all thoughts of dying from his mind, trying to become a reassuring presence, that could take all the terror, all the agony within itself, to ease the burden of the faltering lives of children, of men and women, who died for no reason at all. There truly was none to justify their deaths. There never was, with an end so violent. No excuses.
He did not know for how long they remained so still, their minds focused only on the flow of the Force, until it was as pure as it had been before the slaughter had begun. But when the door to their cabin was unlocked he jerked back and realised he had been holding Jaina all the time, just as she held him. The twins shared a sad smile, then simultaneously turned their heads to look at the newcomer. It was Klatoun, and the young man was incredibly pale.
"Master La'ruus wants to see you," he told them hoarsely. "Please follow me."
It took an effort for them to rise, their muscles protested after having been locked in a single position for so long, but then they stumbled out of the small cabin and out into the corridor. Klatoun was waiting. "What happened?" Jacen asked, even though he knew exactly what had occurred. But he wanted Klatoun to say it.
As expected the young Jedi hesitated, then averted his gaze, shame flooding his very presence. "We were too late. The hunters had already found the clan's village. They killed - they killed everyone, even though we tried to stop them. But we could not kill them too, we had orders - " he stopped. "I am sorry. You were right. I should not have betrayed you, I should have helped you instead."
"Thank you for that thought, late as it may come," Jaina assured him and lightly put a hand on his shoulder. "Take us to Master La'ruus."
"He's in the bridge conference room with the others," Klatoun informed them as they rounded a corner. "We'll be leaving for Coruscant soon."
"Mission accomplished, huh?" Jacen commented sarcastically, then guiltily ducked his head when Jaina glared at him. "Sorry. I should not have said that."
"Indeed." Suddenly her eyes widened. "Oh no! Khameir!" The twins shared another terrified glance. "Hurry!" they called in unison and Klatoun, though bewildered, began jogging ahead.
They reached the bridge at a dead run and stumbled into the conference room out of breath. There was Noci La'ruus, looking as pale as Klatoun had, Tron Wyse, whose long neck was bent with sorrow, and a number of others, whose names Jacen did not know. They were all watching Lyve Waroon, who was seated as far away from the Jedi as was possible. He spared a brief glance for the newcomers, then returned his attention to the assembly.
"I believe my request is justified," he said, "and you would be wise not to refuse me. In fact, I am making this easy for you. I am a Sith Lord, you know that. There's a penalty for that, I am sure."
"Listen, Lyve, we made a terrible, horrible mistake," Noci tried then. "The assailants will be brought to justice. I have called ahead to request reinforcements, Republic troops, to arrest these men."
"Too late. You were not able to prevent this massacre," Lyve cut him short brutally. "I will not grant you leave to excuse that failure by effecting my pardon. I will not ease your conscience by accepting that offer. You will have to live with that guilt, I fear, and realise that one should listen first, then act. Act from the heart, I might add. You know that what you have done was wrong, and you will have to come to terms with the fact that no amount of well-meant deeds will eradicate your guilt. You let them kill innocent people, you did not heed my warning, despite my obvious good intentions. For Force's sake, Noci! I surrendered to you! You had what you wanted! And still you neglected to tell these fart-brains that the chase was being called off!"
"Our intentions, too, were good," Tron Wyse tried, but Lyve merely laughed. It was a terrible laugh, and to Jacen and Jaina, who knew whose mind was behind what appeared to be Lyve Waroon, felt terribly sorry for their cousin's pain. He was still so very young, and he was now forced to shoulder so great a responsibility.
The Sith Lord rose from his seat then, a determined expression on his face. "The past cannot be altered," he told them. "But we have tried our best to change your hearts. I hope we have succeeded. And when you once face my son I pray that what you have learned today will help you make him find his own light again. Be wise and listen to what he has to say. For if you do not, I can assure you that you are doomed."
"Your son!" Noci exclaimed, astonished. "Then he is - "
"Cor'dan, yes," Lyve sighed. "And now, I would ask you, Noci, to perform that last service for me. I would like to die up in the cave that my people called the Cave of Wisdom. I will see my family again up there. One last wish. Let these two go peacefully. They have done well today, and I believe my son would be proud of them too." He winked at the twins, then started walking toward the door, where he stopped briefly to whisper, "I'll see you on the other side." Then was gone.
Evening had fallen outside, Jacen noticed, when they said their farewells to Klatoun. The youth seemed flustered and grief-stricken, but Jacen hoped that he would overcome that sadness and grow through it. The twins trudged aimlessly toward of the forest, both thinking of their cousin. Khameir's decision had been harsh, they knew, but he had wanted to drive his point even deeper into the Jedi's conscience. There were no excuses for failure. Only the acceptance of one's own limits and the will to overcome them.
Suddenly Jacen found Jaina's hand on his arm and looked up. A boy stood there, his face all too familiar. Jacen fought down an urge to blurt out an apology, but Jaina seemingly knew no such restrictions. She went forward to kneel before the boy and embrace him. "I am sorry," she murmured. "I truly am. We did what we could. I hope it was enough."
Liyuma did not answer, but he carefully wrapped his slim arms around her shoulders and hugged her back. Then he disengaged from the young woman and beckoned for the twins to follow him into the forest. It was a long and difficult track through the swampy undergrowth, but Jacen felt that they could trust their guide implicitly. Only once did he motion for them to leave the overgrown path and take shelter behind a sweet-smelling growth of bushes. The trio watched in silence as Noci La'ruus passed them on his way back to the ships. The Jedi Master's head was bent low and he appeared to have been crying.
Jacen felt tears well up in his eyes too, and suddenly Jaina was there, her arms wrapped tightly about him, her shoulders heaving with grief. "Is he truly dead?" Jacen asked softly, directing his eyes at Liyuma, who was watching them, as silent as ever. "He is not dead, is he?"
At last the boy shook his head, then walked on, leading the way. Jacen and Jaina followed quietly, reassured, and with renewed vigour they hiked up into the mountains, where they knew a cave was waiting for them. When they had reached it at last Liyuma went ahead again and they stepped after him, into another time.
Khameir Sarin-Skywalker sat on the hard floor of the cave, still stunned from his adventure, and placidly endured his mother's affectionate attention as she held him in her arms, seemingly unwilling to ever let go again. Her golden eyes shone fiercely and from time to time she would direct a warning glance at the tall woman seated across from them. But Alda Magor seemed to be content where she was.
"You did well," the former Cor'dan assured him then, a smile on her features. "Just like your friends."
"I am glad," Khameir managed on the second go. He still did not trust himself to speak and fingered his neck gingerly, as if he could still feel the angry cut that had severed Lyve Waroon's head from his body when he had died. There was no mark, only unbroken skin.
"Ah, here they come," Alda announced cheerfully and rose from her seat. A small boy flew into her waiting arms and her face was beaming when she hugged him close, and Khameir himself snuggled closer to his mother, feeling not at all ashamed. Nuron ran a hand through his thick hair tenderly, then kissed the crown of his head. "You are very brave," she told him softly. "Very brave."
"Khameir!" It was Jaina, who slipped down the sloping floor to join them, followed closely by her brother. The twins' faces shone with relief as they crouched down beside their aunt and cousin, and both reached out to squeeze his hands. "You were incredible!" Jaina continued, her voice pitched high with excitement. "You showed them!"
"Yes," he answered softly, "I did." He turned questioning blue eye son Alda Magor and her son. "Did I show him too? What you wanted him to see?"
The tall woman nodded at him, then resumed her seat once more. Liyuma dropped down beside her, his face expressionless.
"I am sorry I could not prevent their deaths, though," Khameir continued. "Perhaps I should have tried harder."
Alda Magor's smile deepened. "You could not have prevented the past, you have already realised that. And I did not want you to change it either. I knew we would die, long before the Jedi came."
Khameir gazed at the dark-haired woman, wanting to understand. There was such sadness about her … His glance shifted to the boy hovering at her side protectively, so fragile and innocent. It took some courage to ask, but he did nevertheless, "If you knew that your clan would die, why didn't you prevent it?"
"You saw what happened," she replied, her voice barely a whisper. "It made no difference. The Jedi had condemned us already."
"Because of your husband," he concluded.
She gave a nod. "Yes." Pale green eyes looked at him openly, the pain in them undisguised. "It was a brave thing you did," she declared then, "And Lyve would have admired you for your courage. He chose another path, one true to his nature."
"Violence," Khameir breathed. "He attacked them."
"They hurt him," Alda Magor corrected the boy. "He had to flee. And by the time he returned to our clan's village the slaughter was already underway. He found me dying and went berserk. He killed every enemy he could reach while all around him our people fell. He was helpless to prevent it, even then, despite his power. Do you see?" she sighed. "It made no difference. Either way."
"You knew that all along," he said then, finally understanding. The horror of that knowledge hit him hard, and he could see how it affected the Solo twins, and his mother. Khameir took another deep breath, nodding at Liyuma. "What about your son?" he asked. "He came back to slaughter the settlers in retribution for your clan's destruction. Was that wise?"
"He was hurting," Alda countered wearily. "And he knew there was no excuse for that deed. He has never known excuses."
"Is that why he has come back?" Jaina asked then. "To atone for his crimes?"
All eyes were on the little boy at Alda Magor's side, but the child did not respond, keeping silent even then. The sorceress followed their gaze, then gave a short laugh when she understood. "My son is long gone!" she exclaimed, seemingly amused by their assumption. "This," she gestured at the wraith by her side, "is a farewell gift. Triggered by a Jedi's presence on N'zoth." Her pale eyes focused on Khameir again. "A tiny part of what he was. To guide a new generation, when the time was right. Or didn't you wonder why he would interfere only now, if this was truly his soul spirit? He bound me too, to respond to intruders here in this cave."
Khameir blushed, but did not reply. It was Jacen who summed up what they had heard so far. "Then his intention was to make contact again once he could be certain that an unbiased generation had grown up," he mused aloud. "Jaina trusted him, and I did too, in the end, despite what we knew about him. Isn't that the ultimate gesture of forgiveness?" he asked, sounding awed.
"The most effective bond," Alda Magor replied steadily. She threw a wistful glance at the wraith, then continued, "Liyuma was the essence of what it means to be the Heart of Darkness, even before he became Cor'dan. To have his innate power stifled by his new role made him grow bitter and resentful in some ways, though he never lost the wonder he felt at life's creations. He could not understand, at first, why he was being restricted. Later, when he had studied the cruelty of numerous societies at his leisure, he did understand, I believe."
"No wonder he became so cynical," Jaina mumbled, but Khameir saw her brown eyes glued to the little boy in fascinated curiosity. Suddenly she looked up, studying Alda Magor intensely. "He had a friend, Hagen Dycos," she began tentatively. "I've read it in his biography on the Seeker's interface. A Jedi Master. If you say trust and friendship were the bonds to hold him …"
"Hagen Dycos was a remarkable man," Alda Magor answered not without pride. "I believe he reminded my son of what he had once been, and he felt safe with him. If Hagen had wanted it, he could have made him surrender to the Jedi easily. But that is what friendship is all about, isn't it? My son knew he could trust this Jedi unconditionally. And in return for that trust Hagen never even thought of betraying him."
"Yet I could feel that he resented his role as Cor'dan even when he had decided to die on Laa'kuan," Jaina injected then. "He showed me what it was like for him to watch the Yevetha slaughter each other. He wanted to do something different, but he saw no other way to combine his need for power with ensuring a safe future for the fledgling nations."
Alda Magor nodded solemnly. "He wanted to live on, Jaina Solo. he did not want to die, even though that was the price to be paid, and he knew it. He wanted to be free of his duties. But he could never be free. And that too, he did know."
"Why?" Jacen asked bluntly. "Why could he not be free once he had given over his duties to Grandfather?"
"The Cor'dan knows no rules. And my son had grown up to embrace darkness, which made it impossible for him to be released into true life once more," she explained. "You see, when a man or woman is consigned to become Cor'dan they give up their life, their being, to serve. The Cor'dan's power relies on balance, but Liyuma's strength in communicating with the living and dead, with the Force, as you call it, was too great. In such cases the Cor'dan's power is curbed, part of it merged with the Force, to lessen the risks to those the Cor'dan is set to guide. Had he been allowed to reclaim that power - " she shook her head in revulsion. "You know of some of his deeds," she continued, her tone harder. "He was merciless and ruthless, just as he was compassionate and willing to sacrifice. His knowledge was exceptional and would not have allowed him to accept any point of view other than his won. He would have become a tyrant. That is why he had to die. His limits had been set by his sacrifice and he accepted that." Cocking her head to the side she addressed Khameir once more and the young Jedi shied back from the intensity of her gaze, fearing what would come next. "When the Sith were still powerful they were protected by a guide and a guardian. The guide, a priest, was named Cor'dan, spiritual leader of the Sith. The other was guardian and defender of the people, Naghasan, who were later named Dark Lords. That is why you are here, Khameir Sarin-Skywalker. To become that guardian."
"And the guide?" Jaina blurted out. "You can't tell us that Naas Deron is truly capable of ceding power to so young a warrior! he'll fight him!"
Alda Magor gave her a blank look. "I fear I cannot answer that," she conceded. "All I know is that the Sith are imperilled again, and that it will fall to this young man to protect them."
"The Sith?" Jain gaped.
"She means us, sister. The Jedi," Jacen explained glumly. "Guess now we know that we've lost after all."
TBC