Chapter 3
"He could be trouble," Darth Milter muttered as he watched Anakin from the shadows.
"He's just child; he can't possibly get in your way, Master," Nemiraa remarked, confidence in her voice.
"Yes, he is still a child – but he will grow older, more mature and stronger," Darth Milter responded in a gruff tone.
"The Council would be displeased if they knew that you wanted to get rid of the Chosen One just to get what you wish for." She carefully reminded him.
Darth Milter chuckled. "That is why I'm not going to do anything except suggest a certain Master to the Council."
Nemiraa frowned. "You wouldn't?" She sighed as she saw the look that her Master gave her. "You would."
Darth Milter grunted. "Of course I would. Now I want you to gather information on the Chosen One and bring it to our quarters. I have a lot of work to do."
Nemiraa bowed her head. "Yes, my Master," she replied and left for the library.
Drengin walked through the corridors and headed to the gym, where his Master had told him to wait. Excitement mixed with apprehension filled him as he entered the gym, only to stop suddenly in his steps when he saw nineteen year old, Nev-Kwellen, practicing his katas in the middle of the small gym. Drengin swallowed a lump in his throat and continued inside. He found a small corner and waited for him to leave, wishing fervently that his Master would come soon or that Nev-Kwellen wouldn't notice him and leave.
"Well, well, well, runt," Nev-Kwellen said, stopping his kata and looking at Drengin. "What are you doing in 'my' gym?" he asked coldly as he approached.
Drengin's mouth went dry and he shuffled his feet. "I'm waiting for my Master," he managed to croak.
Nev-Kwellen was a burly apprentice, with light brown hair and orange highlights. His eyes were gray and dull and his eyebrows were a bushy brownish orange. "Little slave boy has a Master?" He cackled evilly.
"I'm not a slave!" Drengin defended himself.
Nev-Kwellen clucked his tongue. "Your people serve us, thus you are still a slave."
"I have the Force," Drengin replied.
"Yes, that is the only reason why you are here and not working in the spice mines of Kessel." Nev-Kwellen snorted.
Drengin crossed his arms, his face passive. "Well, then, I'm not a slave."
"Don't think you can act tough with me, slave!" he spat out angrily.
Drengin's face flushed red in simmering anger. "I'm nobody's slave Nev-Kwellen. I'm an apprentice now and no one can say otherwise," he told him firmly.
Nev-Kwellen was ready to attack Drengin when he stopped and looked behind himself, then back at Drengin. "You may have gotten out of this one but I'll be harder on you next time," he spat as he turned around to meet his Master.
Darth Redav landed his ship on the landing pad of Tipoca City. He pulled his hood up and descended the ramp as rain pelted against him and a strong wind swept at his robes. He came up to the entrance and the door slid open automatically. He entered a bright room that appeared even brighter because of the white walls. He pulled back his hood and watched a Kaminoan approach him.
"Greetings, Darth Redav; we have been expecting you. I am Taun We, please follow me," she said in a melodic tone.
He followed her down the white corridors to another room. Inside he saw a male Kaminoan sitting in an egg shaped chair.
"May I introduce Lama Su, Prime Minister of Kamino," Taun We introduced. "This is Darth Redav," she finished.
"Greetings, Darth Redav; we are honored by your presence. What may we do for you?" Lama Su began.
"I am looking for a bounty hunter called Jango Fett. The Council has an important assignment for him." Darth Redav explained.
"He is here. I will lead you to him personally," Lama Su replied as he got up from his chair and led Darth Redav to another room. With a wave of his hand, the door opened and Darth Redav stepped inside to see Jango Fett.
"I can't seem to get away from you Sith, can I?" Jango asked as he crossed his arms and looked at Darth Redav.
"It would be unwise to ignore the Council's orders," Darth Redav replied in a strict tone.
"If the price is right, I'll do it," Jango replied roughly.
Redav took out a datapad from inside his cloak and handed it to Jango. "All the information is in there."
Jango nodded his head as he read it. "This is acceptable," he replied. "Now if you'll excuse me, I had better get to work," Jango told him as he went to go put on his armor.
Redav turned around and left the room. He headed back down the series of corridors to his ship. That was easy – too easy. A chill swept through him as realization struck him. They're on to me.
The Force screamed a warning at Redav seconds before he felt something prick his neck. He fell to the ground with a thud, only one foot away from the exit.
Anakin left the library with the datapad and walked through the corridors in contemplation. So, if I go before the Council and present evidence that will prove that Darth Dakonda is not worthy to train me, I'll be able to get a new Master once the Council acknowledges Darth Dakonda's lack of ability and honor to train me.
"Anakin!" a boy said coming toward him. "I'm Nev-Kwellen, apprentice to Darth Milter. You have been summoned by the Council and are to come immediately!"
Anakin nodded his head and followed him. They entered the Council Chambers and Anakin went to stand in the middle, bowing his head in respect.
An infuriated Darth Dakonda stood a little to the side of the center, less than one foot away.
Darth Runder began first. "Apprentice Skywalker, you have been summoned here to answer Darth Dakonda's accusations against you."
"The hearing will begin tomorrow morning at 0800 sharp. Apprentice Skywalker, you are to remove your belongings from your room and move into the apartment of Darth Milter and his apprentice. Darth Milter will give you the list of accusations once you have transferred your belongings," Darth Bane told him sharply. "You are dismissed."
Anakin bowed his head, pivoted on his heel and left the room. Nev-Kwellen followed him and soon matched Anakin's steps stride for stride.
"It would probably have been better if you had killed him. It would have saved you from having to have a hearing." Nev-Kwellen remarked.
"You're probably right." Anakin responded. "The hearings are a joke anyway."
"Well, you can count on me for help when you need it," Nev-Kwellen offered.
Anakin snorted. "Thanks but no. I will not be used to raise your social status."
Nev-Kwellen glared at him. "Its just like they say, you're to blasted hard to make friends with."
Stopping abruptly in his tracks, Anakin turned to face Nev-Kwellen. "Friends? Do you know what a friend really is? I'm not talking about your own twisted version of the meaning of friend either."
"So you have your own version of what a friend is, big deal." Nev-Kwellen remarked.
"When I say really, I mean the true meaning of the word." Anakin told Nev-Kwellen and then began walking down the corridor.
Nev-Kwellen hurried to keep up with Anakin who was using the Force to speed himself up. "If I knew then is it possible we could be friends?"
"It's not that simple. A Sith cannot have a true friend because they are incapable of being friends themselves. An ally perhaps but not a true friend."
"Oh, and you can be a true friend?" Nev-Kwellen scoffed in disbelief.
Anakin shrugged his shoulders and entered a turbolift. "Possibly."
The door shut between them, ending their conversation.
Drengin finished his warm-ups and watched his Master enter the gym. "Master," he said, bowing respectfully.
Darth Khunth gave a shadow of a smile and stood in front of him. "First, I would like to observe what you already know. We'll start with all the basics, and then we'll head to supper.
Drengin nodded his head in agreement, excitement showing on his face at the thought of presenting his growing skills to his new Master. He started with the basic kata and moved on to the next two.
Darth Khunth watched his apprentice's skills with appraisal, noting Drengin's strengths and weaknesses. He is very gifted. I'll need to deal with his over-eagerness. That can lead to trouble. His confidence could use some work too. He's so different from me at his age. He would make a great Jedi. He paused that thought as he realized once again where he was. I'll need to tell him; I can't leave him in the dark. How do I tell him that I am a Jedi, not a Sith? How will he react? Will revealing our secret to him jeopardize our mission? He left his questions in a corner of his mind for later examination in meditation, as he walked back over to Drengin to help him improve specific parts of the second kata that Drengin was having trouble with.
The next morning, Anakin once again stood before the Council. Sleep had evaded him all night; instead he had spent the late hours in meditation. Darth Dakonda looked to be well rested and stood in the same position he had the evening before. Anakin felt the eyes of all the Council members on him, cold and unfeeling. Suppressing a shudder, he kept his face passive and stood tall and erect.
"The hearing will now begin!" Darth Bane announced.
Anakin took a deep breath as the trial commenced.
Darth Seront clutched his head as searing pain ran through skull. He doubled over and fell to the ground as the painful onslaught continued. "Not again." He groaned, trying not to scream.
His eyes were closed tight and he was curled up in a fetal position. The pain eased down, but by the time Seront was standing up, another onslaught of pain hit him. "I understand." He gasped before losing consciousness.
Nemiraa stood near the edge of the balcony; her hair waving as a breeze brushed passed her. She looked off into the midmorning sky at the buildings and the sound of speeders. Her mind began to drift off to another place, another time, where she thought she understood what she had been taught. "There is a conflict," she said silently to herself. "In every galaxy, on every planet and moon, between large groups of people, as well as in a person. Hidden or not, a conflict is there, so many different conflicts that vary from being to being. Politically, physically, mentally, socially, spiritually, and emotionally." She paused in contemplation.
"Conflict makes us what we are. We learn from the struggles that we have and grow in knowledge. One is not without conflict, no matter how hard that person works to have no battles."
Her second Master's words sprang into her mind.
"A large issue that Jedi and Sith don't agree on is love.. Love, as in romance and deep longing for someone. What is love if the Sith discourage it and the Jedi have strict rules about it, but allow romantic entanglements? Can there not be love? Could conflict be the same as love? Yes, for if conflict exists, then love exists, no matter what."
"Sith view love as lust, for they do not love; Jedi view love as what? Something to be wary of? A possible danger? They have love for people and all life, but why is there conflict about love that is deep and intimate? She closed her eyes as a forgotten memory appeared in her mind.
A young girl sat in an old area of the Temple that was all but forgotten. Water dripped down the gray moss covered stones. Her cheeks were stained with tears, her eyes red from lack of sleep. It had only been a few days ago that her Master had suffered a horrible death on Corellia. A large group of anti-Sith people had attacked him, using some sort of Force bubble. One of them had grabbed her, taken away her lightsaber, forcing her to watch the battle. Later, they released her so that she would tell the Council their demands.
Closing her eyes, she could see clearly the gruesome sight of her now dead Master. The Council had reprimanded her severely for her weakness and had then dismissed her from their presence.
"Young one, why do you cry?" someone asked.
She looked up to see a green face and headtails flowing from the speaker's head. "Forgive me, weakness is not appropriate for a Sith apprentice," she said as she waited for the reprimand that would soon be coming for her behavior.
The Nautolan shook his head and knelt down in front of her. Lifting her chin with a finger, he looked into her eyes. "Do not be sorry. You have gone through a terrible event. It is understandable that you would be shaken up by it." he replied in a calm soothing voice.
She looked into his eyes and saw something she had not ever seen before in anyone's eyes. "You're wrong; I'm a failure," she remarked with conviction.
"No, not a failure. For every event there is a purpose; it will make you either stronger or weaker. Learn from your weaknesses and your experiences before, during or after every obstacle that is thrown at you. Tell me now, why do you cry?" he asked again.
Nemiraa took a deep breath and gave a low sigh as she thought about it. "I felt useless, unable to help my Master. I felt as if I had betrayed him, that I should have found a way to destroy his murderers. The Council wouldn't even let me help avenge his death. I've been rejected, unworthy to be an apprentice," she explained, feeling as if a heavy load was being lifted from her shoulders.
"I disagree. You were and will be a fine apprentice."
Nemiraa gave him a piercing stare at his comment. "You're just saying that."
"No, I mean it," he said as he stood up and walked away.
Nemiraa just watched him and pondered his words.
"What do you think of me now, Master? Am I a great and powerful Sith? Or a weak, conflicted Sith?" she wondered softly. "You showed me something that day, something that I hadn't felt before. It was love. But love couldn't save you. No, they found you out and you were killed. I know what you were, yet how could you have loved and cared for a Sith like me?" She gripped the railing tightly as she resisted letting her emotions take control of her. "What am I? Who am I?" Her gaze drifted to the sky where ships were coming and going. "Why did you have to get killed?" she murmured.