"You are exiled, and you are a Jedi no longer. One thing remains. Surrender your lightsaber."
A short while later, the doors of the Jedi Temple closed behind her, and then it was just her on the darkening Coruscant street. The Sun was just beginning to slip over the horizon as she exited the building. The sights, sounds and smells of the planet assaulted her senses, reminding once again that she would have to rely on them from now on. The Force no longer existed for her.
The trial hadn't lasted long. It taken even less to pack her few possessions, but saying goodbye to the few Jedi who still considered her a comrade, if an errant one, took longer. There were still some who counted her as a trusted associate, even as a hero. But they were discouraged from interacting with her by the older Jedi. So finally she had simply left.
A chill wind blew down the street, and she wrapped her arms about herself, the Jedi robes not offering enough protection from the rapidly dropping temperature, a reminder of her situation. No lightsaber, no Force connection and pretty much only the clothes on her back to begin a new life with. That what's you got for being a hero, she decided. That what you got for helping stop the Mandalorian from destroying the Republic. Even Revan had gotten a second chance, but not her. Much of this was Revan's fault. With a loud sigh, she started to walk, not knowing where she was going, just wanting to put distance between her and the Temple.
She squinted into the last remaining rays of the Sun as she began to walk. There were a few figures on the street leaving the business district for home, to be with families, to spend time with associates, to recharge after another day of the grind. She knew about the grind. What was the savage war they had just fought if not one great, big, horrible grind, something few if any of these people on the street knew anything about. But unlike these people, she had no place to go at the end of the day, nobody who would welcome her home.
The few people she did pass, gave her and her Jedi robes an odd look. Opinions on the Jedi Order were mixed these days, with some being utterly disappointed in the Jedi Council's unwillingness to enter the War. Some had begun to view them as merely a religious cult who intervened in matters only when it suited them, and served not the Republic only themselves. A few radicals even accused them of being in league with the Mandalorians, but these were rare. Still others were grateful for the Jedi's efforts in the war. But the problem was that some had joined the war effort, while others had hid out here on Coruscant and refused to fight. And how could you tell the heroes from the cowards?
Finally tired of the looks she was getting, she took of her brown Jedi robe and threw it in the nearest trash receptacle. For a long moment she stood looking down at it, a slight impulse rising in her to pull it back out, but closing her eyes tightly, she turned away from it and began walking down the street. And opening her eyes again, she saw the last rays of the Sun disappear. Coruscant became shrouded in murky darkness, and with the darkness came the cold. She shivered, wrapping her arms about her.
She'd walked a long time, deep and thought. She left the business and government district behind and came to the beginning of one of Coruscant's entertainment districts. The streetwalkers, hustlers and other sordid types came out to play, appearing out of the darkness as if they'd been stealthed.
Turning and looking back, she saw the illuminated tower that was the Jedi Temple in the distance, soaring over some of the shorter buildings around it. A tiny part of her wished she had not been so defiant in the Jedi Council chambers. Not that she had anything to fear from any of them, not after what she'd been through and not after she'd turned away from Revan and Malak when it no longer felt right. No, she wanted them to know, all of them, that they'd failed the Republic in not committing to the War, and that they were no longer her Masters. To hear their response, and to see their faces. They'd earned her disdain. They and the other Jedi who would not fight.
But there was another part of her that was not so sure. A part which wondered if had she not been apologetic, might she not still be a member of the Order. That she might be spending the night in that tower rather than walking the streets. She thought about the friends she was leaving behind, friends whom she could not find it within her to call cowards. They'd had blind faith in the Council, something she could not do. Maybe they were the strong ones for not giving in to emotion. Or maybe they were just afraid.
But no, that was fear talking, and she had nothing to fear on this planet. Nothing to fear in the galaxy as far as she was concerned. She'd faced her fears in the War and defeated the enemy. The War had changed her, or maybe it just revealed her true self, stripping away the facade that all Jedi were required to keep up. Still, she wasn't so sure if the streets of Coruscant was where she wanted to be, or if she was entirely through being a Jedi. The debate went on in the back of her mind, with no clear answer coming to the surface.
Just then she was interrupted in her thoughts by a hand closing around her throat and the blade of vibrodagger materializing out of the darkness near her cheek. Foul-smelling breath assaulted her nostrils, and a cracked voice from behind her whispered, "C'mon, girlie, you and me are gonna have some fun."
Instinctively she reached for her lightsaber, realized it wasn't there. Cursed the Force for not warning her, and remembered she had no connection to it anymore. And then, a surge of anger tinged with panic rose in her. A Jedi, even without the Force was far from helpless, and especially if the Jedi were fresh back from the Mandalorian Wars where's she'd fought toe-to-toe with some of the galaxy's fiercest warriors.
She spun out of his grasp, and pushed the dagger away with her right hand. As she spun, she landed an elbow smash to his chest, and followed it up with a knee to the groin that doubled him up. A right hook to the jaw dropped him to the pavement and left him gasping in pain. In an instant, she was on him, driving his head into the cold duracrete ground again and again until she realized the extent of the damage she had done.
The man was unconscious and bleeding from the head. She quickly went through his pockets finding a credit chip with fifty credits on it, a piece of filthy spice which she threw away and a broken comlink. She dropped the comlink, pocketed the credit chip and then tore a strip of cloth off the man's vest, and with it, she applied a field dressing to the man's head. Standing, she looked down at the pathetic individual lying motionless before her, and, shaking her head, stepped into a nearby club.
The air inside smelled strongly of perfume and booze. The club pulsed with the sound of music, the bass pounding so hard, she could feel her rib cage vibrating and the air almost being forced out of her lungs. Bodies throbbed together in close proximity on the dance floor, and she had to burrow her way through to reach the bar on the far side of the club.
"Juma Juice," she yelled at the bartender over the music. "And keep them coming!"
The bartender handed her a full glass, and she threw it back with relish.
With that first taste of the liquid, burning its way down her throat, all the trauma of the War, the horror at Malachor and her banishment from the Temple became slightly lessened. And with each successive drink they became distant memories, something floating on the edge of her mind which could now be more easily ignored. Her inhibitions slipped away, as the temporary relief from the past gave her a measure of calm. The night became a blur of Juma Juice, spice, loud music, and a chorus of voices around her, talking uncomfortably loud. And then she wanted to sleep, but instead they kept talking and led her out of the club and to another. And another. It seemed as if the streets, the night itself, belonged to her and her companions whose faces were nothing more than a blur. And as they moved from club to club, they spoke to her of traveling the Unknown regions, of danger, of excitement, of money to be made, of scores to be settled.
Mixed with their voices was her own, boasting of her exploits during the War. Of her intense dislike of the Mandalorians, and of her contempt for the Jedi Council. And along with it came all the pain, all the regret, all the frustration, and all the sorrow over those she'd left behind on battlefields throughout the Outer Rim. Her exile status, and her loss of connection to the Force. It all came pouring out, and at some point she realized how much she was talking, but it didn't matter. It had to be said, and she'd said it. They could think what they wanted. She no longer cared.
"Who are you?" a voice asked near the end of the night.
"I'm the Exile," she heard herself say, not knowing why she'd said it, but it sounded good at the time.
After awhile, the voices, the music, and the laughter of the revelers all faded to blackness, and she was left to the bliss of unconsciousness.
Almost bliss. For in her dreams, visions of Malachor came back to her. Of ships being pulled out of orbit and crashing into a planet. Of thousands of screams coming at her all at once. Of the disturbance in the Force that the deaths created. Then there was a great void and many arms reaching out of it toward her. She watched in terror as she felt herself drawing nearer to them, unable to move, and they grabbed for her, seeking to pull her into the void with them...
She awoke with a start, still feeling tingles of fear rolling down her spine and beads of sweat on her forehead. Then she felt the throbbing headache, the likes of which she hadn't felt since some Mandalorian had hit her with the butt of his rifle on Onderon. Dimly she was aware of someone moving about the room, but opening her eyes fully was too painful. The light seemed excessively bright.
Eventually the figure materialized into the petite form of a green-skinned Twi'lek female in a Cinnagar war suit. Alerted by the moaning coming from across the cabin, the Twi'lek stopped what she was doing and turned to look at the Exile.
"Oh, the Force...am I dead?" the Exile asked, moaning.
The Twi'lek laughed softly. "No, but you look like it."
"Where am I? And who are you?"
The Twi'lek laughed again. "I guess I shouldn't be hurt if you don't remember me. You've been going three days straight. This is your first sober morning. Welcome back to the land of the living. I'm your roommate, Zeena Mazril. First time doing spice?"
"And the last," the Exile said, rubbing her temples. "I feel terrible. Where are we?"
"I learned that lesson long ago. Don't touch the stuff anymore, myself. But welcome aboard the Star Dust."
"What am I doing the aboard a ship?" the Exile sat up suddenly and immediately regretted, feeling the pain in her head throbbing even harder. She dimly thought to use the Force to cure her hangover and then reminded herself not for the last time that she could no longer control it. So she simply lied back down.
"Don't try and move too suddenly." Zeena rummaged in a medkit and pulled out a pill. She poured a glass of water and handed them to the Exile. "Take this. It will have you up and about in no time."
The Exile swallowed it, feeling thirstier than she had ever felt, swallowing the whole glass before handing it back.
"Want some more?"
The Exile nodded weakly.
Zeena refilled the glass for her and gave it back. "I figured you wouldn't remember anything, so let me just reassure you that you are safe with us. Nobody had met a war hero before, so we invited you to hang out with us. You said you hated Coruscant and couldn't wait to get off world. Then the Captain offered you a ride since we were headed out anyway. You said you'd be glad to get a ticket to anywhere, so here you are. Hey, you're a celebrity. Enjoy it."
"Did, I do anything...you know...stupid?"
"You're fine. I wouldn't let any of the guys pull any funny stuff while you were messed up." Zeena sat on the end of her bunk. "A guy at the club tried to come on to you, but you nearly killed him. We all did, in fact. It was weird. As soon as you started hitting him, we all jumped on him. Might have killed him too, but you called us off. Lucky him. I haven't felt such a need to inflict pain since I escaped slavery." She looked at the Exile funny. "Say, you said last night that you'd lost your connection to the Force. Is that true? Or were you pulling some kind of Jedi mind trick on us when we attacked that guy?"
"No, it's true. There are techniques in the Force to control the mind, or make others fight in tandem. But I can't do anything like that. The Force doesn't exist for me anymore," the Exile said, sitting up slowly, holding her head in her hands.
"Well anyway, after that, all the guys gave you space. You sure can fight, girl. Thought Jedi only know how to fight with lightsabers."
"I'm not a Jedi."
"Yeah, you mentioned that too. But you were. I thought Jedi were all peace and love, and all that. But I guess there's different kinds, huh?"
The face of Revan briefly flashed in the Exile's mind. "Yeah. You could say that. So where are we headed?"
"We're a few days out of Dantooine."
"Just great."
"What's the matter?" Zeena asked.
"There's a Jedi Enclave on Dantooine. Not the place I want to be. So what kind of ship is this?"
"We are, uh, merchants."
"You mean smugglers," the Exile said, arching an eyebrow.
Zeena smiled. "Smuggling is an ugly term. We do business like other merchants and freighters do, we just don't follow every little, tiny rule, that's all. But you know about not following all the rules, don't you? Especially after last night. The Captain offered you a position with the crew, but you turned him down. Too bad. We could use someone as tough as you. Sometimes our line of business gets rough."
The Exile sighed. "That's probably why I said no even though I don't remember any of that conversation. I've had enough of rough business to last a lifetime. I want to find someplace quiet where I can just hear myself think. Forget the past. Make some kind of attempt at finding happiness."
Zeena nodded. "The War was ugly, huh? I mean, really bad, wasn't it? I wasn't there, but I heard."
"Much worse than I thought it would be," the Exile answered. "And Revan. She just...I don't know...something was wrong. But the Mandalorians had to be stopped, right? I just don't want to have to fight anymore."
Just then a grizzled human face appeared in the doorway looking down at the two women. "Hope I'm not interrupting ladies."
"She's alive, Captain," Zeena said, looking up, and then turned to the Exile. "This is Captain Volo."
"Nice to meet you, Captain. Thanks for taking me on."
"No problem. We've always got room for one more. Actually, I'm hoping you'll reconsider my offer, but don't worry about that now." He turned to Zeena. "You'll show her where the galley is when she's ready, right? We don't want our guest to think we're inhospitable."
"Of course, Captain."
He looked down at the Exile. "Get some food in you when you can. It's important after you've been on a bender like you were. Saps vitamins and minerals from the body, you know."
"And how long will I be your guest?" the Exile asked, looking up at him.
"Only as long as you want to be. We're almost to Dantooine now and if you want to get off there, you can."
The Exile grimaced at the thought. "I'm definitely not getting off there."
"After that, we're headed beyond the Outer Rim. You said you wanted to get away for awhile, right?"
"A long while. I never want to go back to Coruscant."
The next several days, she kept mostly to herself or spent time with Zeena. She was, as Zeena had told her, something of a celebrity, and received her share of ogling, gawking and admiring looks. She mostly ignored them when they came, sometimes offering a slight smile if they were polite, and a glare if they were not. Mostly they just wanted to hear stories of the War, but occasionally they whispered behind cupped hands when they thought she wasn't looking.
She found herself not sleeping well at night, the dreams of Malachor coming often. She seldom felt well rested, and it was often enough just to come back to wakefulness to escape the dreams. Why did the voices blame her for Malachor and not Revan?
By day she made herself useful around the ship when she felt able, doing minor repairs and maintenance of the ship. By night, she mostly spent her time with Zeena or with one of the other female crewmembers. Often she was spent time alone, staring out the one of the viewports and thinking.
One day, as she worked on repairing the door to the infirmary, she suddenly wished she'd never been a Jedi. She'd been thinking it over since Coruscant, and had determined she'd wasted her life with them, with the Force. After all her efforts and personal sacrifice, she faced an uncertain future. The dull task that she was working on brought it all home to her, a dull task which nevertheless she found relaxing. What did people like her do with the rest of their lives? It was impossible to tell because as far as she knew, there were none like her, stripped of the Force, cast out of the Order.
She was interrupted in her repairs by a tap on her shoulder. "Captain says to tell you we're coming up on Dantooine. Thought you might want to see it."
She offered a slight smile at the crewman, Nezzer, she thought his name was. "Thank you."
He smiled back and left.
Gathering up her tools, she walked down the hall, through the main hold and down another to the cockpit where the Captain and two others crewmembers were gathered.
"You're just in time," Volo said to her, staring out the viewscreen at the swirl of hyperspace. He pulled back a lever and the spiraling clouds were replaced by the picture of a green orb in space rushing at them. It slowed down to a more reasonable speed as the ship entered orbit.. The planet filled most of the screen and moved steadily closer. Soon they were descending through the atmosphere. They soared over the landscape, the Exile craning her neck to look down for familiar features, but it'd been a long time since she'd defied Atris' orders and left. It looked much the way she remembered it.
But being back made her feel uneasy, a disquiet that grew steadily as they drew nearer to the Enclave. A tension starting in her gut and moving its way up into her chest. She found her breathing had become tighter and forced herself to calm down. Still, it remained with her all the way down to the ground as the pilot eased the ship into the Enclave's docking bay. Straight in front of them was the entrance she had first walked into and then later left out of it to fight the Mandalorians. She remembered both days as if they were yesterday. She wanted to look away, but could not.
The Captain and his crew stood up. He considered for a moment asking again if she might not like to stretch her legs outside, but thought better of it. The tenseness in her face, the way her jaw was set, and the fixed stare she had were all he needed to convince him she wasn't to be disturbed. So he motioned to the other crewmembers to clear out and followed behind them. She was left alone to contemplate the second to last place in the galaxy she wanted to be.
She watched them through the viewscreen moving cargo out of the hold and down the walkway around the Enclave towards the area where the vendors habitually converged to sell their goods to Jedi and the local farmers alike. Anything from weapons to droid parts to even more illicit items could be had if one knew whom to talk to and how to negotiate. As a former Sentinel, it had often been her role to find some of the more unseemly merchants and bring them to the Enclave for questioning.
Presently, Zeena came forward to join her, settling herself in the Captain's chair. She eyed the Exile curiously before turning to look out at the Enclave. "You should go out there."
"No."
"This might be your last chance for a long while. Do you really want to leave her knowing you should have one last time but were too afraid to?"
"You don't understand, Zeena," the Exile said, still staring out through the viewscreen. "They think I'm a Dark Jedi, or at very least, a traitor."
"Then let's disguise you," Zeena said, smiling.
The Exile turned to her, brow furrowed. "What did you have in mind?"
"I have a cloak with a large hood. You can throw it over your head until we get past the Enclave.
"I don't know about that. These are Jedi. You don't hide from them like you'd hide from the local security forces." She sighed and turned her attention back out through the screen. "But I really do want to see the Old Grove."
A short while later, a female Twi'lek in armor led a figure wearing a hood halfway down its face down the ramp and past the Enclave entrance into the courtyard where they were assaulted by the pitches offered by over a dozen merchants hoping to hawk their wares. These they ignored and kept moving, though hands reached out to pull them to the side.
Zeena fended them off. "C'mon, folks, she's blind. Give her a break. And give me a break while you're at it."
"To your right. Over the bridge. You got a blaster?" the Exile asked, still staring straight down at the ground.
"Yeah, a pair, why? Are we gonna need'em here? I mean, I always carry them, but this place seems so peaceful."
"Maybe. There's Kath hounds here. They generally leave you alone if you keep your distance, but it's better not to take chances."
They passed a couple of Jedi on the way to the bridge, and Zeena felt the Exile slowing down.
"Nope, keep moving. They're not paying us any attention. We're still good." She whispered and gave a tug to the Exile's sleeve, picking up the pace.
Soon they were across the bridge to the other side and moving in between a couple of low plateaus. Beyond that was a large clearing amidst other low plateaus. But as of yet, there were no Kath hounds in sight.
Zeena stopped and took a long look around. "Nice. You can take off your hood now."
The Exile, not trusting her fully, also looked around underneath the hood before throwing back over her shoulders. She inhaled deeply and let it out slow.
"Yeah, fresh air. You miss it when you're cooped up on a ship too long. So where's this grove of yours?"
The Exile looked around and smiled, the area bringing back memories of better times. "Should be this way, and she led them on a path off to the right, past the Matale estate."
She led the way down another path that brought them into view of a large structure set on a stone terrace. It could have even been called a fortress. It had curving lines and round roof. Standing out in front of it was a security droid.
"Come on," said the Exile giving it a glance, it's just past this place.
She led Zeena along the low cliff to their left through another pass and there before them was a large grove of trees. "This is where we used to come meditate. Strange that we haven't seen any Kath hounds, but better that we don't have to kill any. They're not monsters, they just don't like their territory invaded by other creatures. The young ones are almost playful, but the albinos are the ones you really have to watch out for. They can be nasty. Especially if it' s just a Jedi robe protecting you from their claws. That's one of those times when you really have to rely on the Force.
They moved amongst the trees, spotting a several large natural stone "pillars" arranged in a small circle up ahead. She walked into the center, Zeena trailing behind.
"This is where we used to..."
"Someone's coming. Throw up your hood," Zeena suddenly hissed, drawing her blaster as a Twi'lek male in a blue outfit approached. "Back off!" she ordered him.
"There is nothing to fear. I pose no threat to either of you," he said.
The Exile remained silent, staring at the ground.
"What do you want?" Zeena asked.
"It is not what I want..." his eyes shifted to the Exile.
She peeked up at him from underneath her hood, and then slowly pushed it back over her head. "Master Zhar." She swallowed hard feeling herself tensing up. She motioned to Zeena to put away the blaster.
Zeena holstered her weapon, but continued to regard him suspiciously.
But Zhar smiled. "So you have returned. It is good to see you again, Padawan."
"And you, Master." She offered a brief smile of her own.
He turned and looked over the grove. "Is it as you remember it?"
She let out the breath that she'd unconsciously been holding. "Yes. Still beautiful. Peaceful. Exactly what I need right now." His voice was soothing on her frayed nerves.
Zeena, sensing this discussion was not meant for her, slipped away into a nearby copse of woods.
"Yours has been a difficult road, Padawan."
"You've no idea, Master Zhar. But don't worry. I'm not here to drag anybody off to war or to join the Dark Side." The last part was spoken with obvious bitterness.
"This I know." he said. "Still you made a decision and set yourself on a path apart from the Jedi Order."
"I did what I felt was right," she said, the anger rising in her. "The Mandalorians were attacking. We couldn't just wait for the Jedi Council to make up its mind. People were dying, planets being devastated. Something had to be done."
Zhar nodded. "I understand your line of thought. I do not question your reasons for going to war. But a Jedi must not give in to his passion. Instead he must listen to the will of the Force. The Dark Side remains a threat to us at all times, and often it is hidden within good intentions or cloaked in fear. The future is difficult to see, and even the Council can not see all ends. It may be that you have been set on this path for a reason. Remember your lessons, Padawan. They may still serve you in the days ahead, and remember that though you are no longer of the Order, the lessons continue. As you know, a Jedi's training does not solely consist of that which is taught in the classroom."
"But I can't feel the Force anymore, Master. I don't know what happened. It was just gone. There was Malachor and then the journey back to Coruscant. I'm not even sure when it happened...I don't even know why I'm calling you Master anymore. I'm not a Padawan. I'm nothing now." The Exile looked down at the ground, clenching her fists.
"That is not so," he told her. "You are the sum of your experiences and accumulated knowledge and training. Perhaps this loss of your connection is not the punishment many would believe it to be. Perhaps it is simply your destiny to walk without it for a time. But whether it be permanent or not, do not forget that the Jedi teachings live within you still. The Jedi code can still guide you in difficult times, though not all of it need apply in any given situation. When you find that you have lost your way, meditate on it."
She sighed again. "I don't know what I'm going to do now. I don't have any place to go, no purpose..."
But she was cut off in mid-sentence, by the figures of two Mandalorians appearing out of Stealth, blaster rifles at the ready. "You're trespassing, Jedi. This area belongs to us now," one of them said.
The Exile momentarily froze, then reached for her lightsaber which still wasn't there, then satisfied herself with slowly backing away. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Zeena approaching.
Master Zhar remained calm, turning to face the newcomers. "There is no need for weapons."
One of them turned his rifle barrel towards Zhar. "We'll make that decision, Jedi. Not you." Zeena had joined them, and the other Mandalorians were eyeing them appreciatively. "These two could fetch a fair price."
"Is this what you've become since you lost the war?" the Exile asked suddenly. "Common criminals. Where is the famed Mandalorian honor we heard so much about?"
One of them stepped nearer to her, raising the rifle as he did so. And then there was a blur of activity. There was the hum of a lightsaber activating, a green glow reflected on the armor of the Mandalorians and then the barrel was cut cleanly in half by the green beam of energy. The Exile took another step back, just in time to see Zeena level her own blaster at the chest plate of the other Mandalorian and fire. She saw that one that take the blast and not even stagger, raise his own rifle to shoot at Zeena and then saw him knocked backward hard from a Force Push by Master Zhar and landing flat on his back. The rifle was pulled out of the other Mandalorian's hands and thrown across the Grove. And in another blur of light, Master Zhar's lightsaber was deactivated and replaced at his belt.
"As I said, there is no need for weapons."
"Think it's that easy?" one said sitting up. "This is isn't over, Jedi." Four more Mandalorians appeared out of stealth. They started firing as they walked towards the Exile, Zhar and Zeena.
A blast caught Zeena in the abdomen, and she fell to the ground, curled up. The Exile dropped to her side and dragged her behind some large rocks nearby. Pulling the blaster out of her hand and her other one out of Zeena's holster, she began returning fire.
In an instant, Zhar had his lightsaber out again, deflecting the blaster bolts, his face calm as he drew on the Force. His movements became quicker and quicker until he was a blur of motion. Blaster shots were deflected in all directions and drawing the Force into himself, he sent out a Force wave knocking all of the Mandalorians to the ground. Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, he jumped behind the rocks where the Exile and Zeena were. He took a moment to examine the wound. The blaster shot had penetrated her armor, and the skin beneath was blackened. Laying his hand on it, he let the Force flow into her, easing the pain and beginning the healing process.
But while he did so, the Mandalorians returned to stealth mode, their forms fading out.
"Master Zhar!" the Exile said suddenly, calling his attention to the situation.
He looked up and closing his eyes, drew on the Force once more, sensing in it, what he could not see with his own eyes. "Take the girl back to your ship," he said to the Exile. "I will handle this."
"I'm not leaving you! I need your help to get her out of here anyway."
"This is not your fight anymore," he told her. "The war is over."
"No," said the Exile through clenched teeth. "We didn't defeat them at Dxun, only to have them pushing us around here." She looked at Zeena. "Guess that Cinnagar war suit just didn't hold up, huh?"
"Shut up," Zeena said, groaning.
The Exile pulled the comlink from her belt and spoke into it. "Captain? Anybody there? We got a squad of Mandalorians that has us pinned down. Need some help out here." But there was no answer. "All right," she said. "We're simply going to have to make an orderly withdrawl here. Master Zhar, if you would, do you see any of them now?"
"One approaches...there," he extended out a hand and delivered another Force push, the shock of it disrupting the Mandalorian's stealth generator. He lay in the grass momentarily, than grabbed his rifle, and crawled behind a low embankment. He immediately opened fire on them.
The Exile began fire back at him. "Okay," the Exile said loudly enough to be heard over the blaster fire. "Master Zhar, can you get yourself and Zeena on top of that low cliff over there?" She motioned behind them. "We ought to get up there and move along the tops. It'll make it much harder for them to flank us."
"I do not think you should be left alone."
"I'll be right behind you," the Exile answered. "Trust me, I know what I'm doing. I can't get her up there. You've got to do it."
He looked at her for a moment, and then, kneeling, took Zeena in his arms. She moaned as the pain flared up in her wound. With a final look around to ensure that the Mandalorians were not moving in on them, he Force jumped to the top of the cliff. Once there he called down to the Exile, but she was looking the other way, still firing at the lone Mandalorian.
"You just keep an eye out for a minute. Make sure the rest of them are not coming up behind us," she called back to him. Laying down a heavy burst of fire at the Mandalorian, she saw him duck down behind the embankment. In an instant, she was running low across the grass towards something. Master Zhar had not noticed it, but she had. The Mandalorian had dropped his stealth generator earlier. She only got to it in time, as the Mandalorian raised up and began to fire again, no doubt having just changed clips. She dived into the grass and slipped the unit on. Activating it, she rolled to the side and behind some tall weeds nearby. Looking up, she saw the Mandalorian raking the grass, sweeping from side to side attempting to hit his now invisible opponent.
From his vantage point up top, Zhar saw the Exile run towards something and then vanish. He took another look around, still not seeing any other Mandalorians. He then turned his attention back to Zeena, laying a hand on her wound and once more using the Force to repair the damaged tissue. Zeena's breathing was shallow and strained, but she offered a weak smile to reassure him she was not done yet. He could hear the firing stop, and then a single shot rang out. A minute later he heard something behind him and put a hand on his lightsaber, but it was the Exile climbing up to join them. She flopped on the grass, breathing deeply.
"I'm getting out of shape."
"Too much partying," Zeena offered, with a smile.
"What are you talkin' about? It's your fault." She looked at Zhar. "Anyway, I took care of that Mandalorian back there. We just have to make it over these cliffs back to the Enclave."
The three of them started out, Zhar still carrying Zeena, and the Exile bringing up the rear. They'd almost reached the edge of the Enclave courtyard when blaster fire began raining down on them from up ahead.
"They're up in the tree," the Exile yelled. "Get her down to the other side of the cliff." She activated the stealth generator and disappeared from sight. A tall tree stood before the entrance to the courtyard, perhaps 20 meters tall.
Master Zhar Force jumped over the other side of the cliff with Zeena and laid her down behind it. Pulling out his lightsaber, he activated it and jumped back up. The Mandalorians had stopped firing when he went over the side, but resumed when he came back into view. The Force flowing through him, he deflected their shots more easily without the added distraction of protecting another, and one of them quickly received a deflected blaster shot in the chest. The body fell the ten meters to the ground or so with a thud.
From beneath the tree, the Exile saw the Mandalorian fall, and drawing a bead on the second one, squeezed the trigger, instantly coming out of stealth herself. The shot caught the second one in the back of the head, and he pitched forward catching himself on several branches on the way down to before hitting the ground. Once there he moaned in pain from several fractures. The Exile put another shot in his head, and he became silent.
However, the activity had drawn the attention of the final Mandalorian who now was shooting down at her.
One of the shots caught her in the shoulder before she could duck out of the way, and she dropped to one knee rolling behind the other side of the tree. She bumped the wounded shoulder on a large root protruding from the ground, and instantly felt the pain flare up inside her. Stifling a scream, she activated the stealth generator just as a shot hit the ground next to her leg. But the next shot did hit her in the leg, the Mandalorian either a very lucky shot or a very good one, and she began to crawl for some nearby rocks grimacing from the pain.
It was then, out of the corner of her eye, that she saw a blur of light overhead, a green ray seeming to fly through the air into the top of the tree. There was the hum of a lightsaber, the sound of it connecting, and then the body of the last Mandalorian joined her on the ground. An instant later, so did Master Zhar dropping down beside her.
"You are still reckless...Padawan."
"I ain't your Padawan," she said turning to look at him, but she smiled quickly before groaning from the pain...
As the Sun was beginning to set, a bandaged up Zeena and Exile stood in front of the Star Dust talking to Master Zhar.
"Thanks for getting me out of there," Zeena said to Zhar. "I wasn't sure we were going to make it."
"I would not have allowed anything to happen to you," said Zhar smiling. "Soon your wounds will be healed. Take care. Especially if you travel with this one." He nodded toward the Exile.
"Hey!" the Exile mock protested.
With a final smile, Zeena limped up the boarding ramp to the Star Dust leaving Zhar and the Exile to say their goodbyes.
"Thank you, Master Zhar. I won't forget what you said or what you did for us. I will miss you," she said.
"And I you," he answered, "but perhaps this is not our final meeting. We may yet meet again. But if we do not, then know that it has been good to have seen you again. I am sorry it could not be under better circumstances, but the future is still in motion. Better days are ahead for you, I feel certain of it, and it is important that you continue to look ahead and not back. The past is all ready written, but your future is in your hands." He bowed.
She returned the bow. "Goodbye," she said with a smile and disappeared up the ramp.
Master Zhar stepped to the edge of the landing pad, and watched the ship's thrusters fire, lifting it up in the air and the it went into a steep climb, disappearing up into the atmosphere. He turned and walked back into the Enclave thinking about the padawan who left...
In the infirmary aboard the Star Dust, Zeena and the Exile lie in beds next to each other.
"You could have carried me. That way he would have been Zhar could have used his lightsaber better," Zeena was saying.
"No way. You're too huge," the Exile said, with a laugh.
"Oh, shut up!"