The First Council
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars. This is merely a fanfiction. I gain no income from this story.
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"Good! Stretch out with your feelings!"
Starkiller stood in the woods, hands outstretched, concentrating. Several trees had been ripped up by their roots and were levitating in the air.
C'Baoth lingered behind him, his eyes wide, his mouth slack with anticipation as Starkiller mentally shredded the trees down to splinters through the Force. The young clone panted. "That took more out of me than it used to …"
The older Jedi Master nodded, staring at his new apprentice's handiwork. "Yes. The midichlorians gifted to you by those three Wookies have opened you back up to the Force. But indeed … it is not enough … not nearly enough to reawaken your full potential. But it is a start." He stared as splinters rained down upon them. "Yes. A start."
Starkiller stared into the woods. He had tried to push his actions the previous night away from his memory. Those Wookies had stared at him, pleaded with him. He would never forget their cries. He would never forget the look of despair when they realized that he would not release them. He felt sick and had spent a sleepless night, turning his actions over in his mind.
C'Baoth appeared to have intruded on his thoughts. "You feel guilt. Shame is but a distraction …"
Catching his breath, Starkiller turned to the old sage. "They begged me for mercy …" He shook his head. "I gave them none …"
"The true Jedi makes the hard choices," C'Baoth cooed, as though the decision were only picking between flavors of tea in the morning. "The Force has given us a gift. Those of us chosen by it have a responsibility to the galaxy – to the greater good. And those not destined for greatness by the Force – have a responsibility to help the Jedi bring order to the galaxy. Even if it requires their own lives …"
The eyes of the Wookies bore into Starkiller's mind. Their pleas gnawed at his ears. "The Jedi are to serve … or so Master Kota taught me …"
"Much of the Jedi Order's teachings were flawed," C'Baoth admitted. "Such ideas led to their own downfall. We will learn from their mistakes. We will do better. And the New Jedi Order will be perfected! That is why I have chosen you. Only by accepting our exceptionalism will the Jedi be restored. Only by taking our rightful place as the true rulers of the galaxy will the Emperor and the Sith be defeated."
Something else had been gnawing at Starkiller's thoughts all night. "With all due respect, Master C'Baoth … how did you evade Order 66? Other Jedi escaped and have gone into hiding. Have you been hiding here on Kashyyyk since the Clone Wars?"
C'Baoth opened his mouth to answer. He stopped. He found no answer to be given. As though someone had turned on a projector in his mind, memories cycled. No – not full memories. Flashes. Explosions. A ship. The words Outbound Flight. C'Baoth grit his teeth and held his hand to his head, trying, struggling to remember. How? How did I escape? Where have I been these past twenty years?
Starkiller saw the old man's bizarre reaction. "Master?"
C'Baoth jerked his head up, his hair wild, his pupils wide. "I hid, as the others have done. I came to Kashyyyk years ago. There is no need for you to know any more." The Jedi Master turned. "Come. In honor of the restoration of your connection to the Force, I have a gift for you."
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Starkiller stood in the remains of his old home, in the makeshift Jedi Council Chamber erected by C'Baoth. The old Jedi was rummaging in a chest nearby.
"The Wookies here revered your father," C'Baoth was saying. "He protected many of them from danger and when the Empire came here, he offered many of them protection and hiding places in the Shadowlands. Vader left his corpse here to be consumed … a warning to all that would harbor Jedi. But the Wookies were not daunted. They burned his body … and they kept, hidden here … a sacred relic."
C'Baoth drew himself to his full height, something shiny in his hand. Starkiller narrowed his eyes. "A lightsaber?"
With a flick of the switch, the blue blade snap-hissed to attention, glowing in C'Baoth's hands. "Kento Marek's lightsaber to be exact." C'Baoth proffered the weapon to Starkiller. "You lost your lightsabers on Mustafar. Now that you have in part restored your connection to the Force, it is only fitting that you wield the weapon of the Jedi Knight. That you wield Kento Marek's blade."
Starkiller's fingers reached out to grasp the hilt in C'Baoth's hand. The blue light reflected in his eyes. He remembered Kento Marek wielding this weapon, defending his son against Darth Vader. He was a true Jedi hero.
And the eyes of the three Wookies surfaced in his mind's eye, their pitiful cries for mercy tearing at his soul.
He pushed the weapon away. "No. I'm not worthy to wield Kento Marek's lightsaber."
C'Baoth was displeased. "It is your heritage! Take it!"
This time, Starkiller held firm. "No. I'll make my own. That's one of the Rites of the Jedi, isn't it?"
This seemed to please the Jedi Master. "Ah. I see. You wish to create your own blade? Very well … Kashyyyk has long been a siphon in the Force. Deep, deep in the Shadowlands is a cave. One that is very strong with the Force. One in which you may find a Force crystal. As your next task, retrieve a crystal from the cave. Then you may begin construction on a weapon of your own."
Nodding, Starkiller stepped out of the house as C'Baoth gently placed Kento Marek's hilt back into the wooden chest.
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And I'm lost.
Starkiller had been wandering the forests for hours. He had not even reached the Shadowlands yet. He had been wandering in circles on the subsurface. Part of it was deliberate. He continued to turn over the last night's events, shame washing over him for his actions and fear over the true nature of C'Baoth.
His ideology was extremist, that much was clear. But C'Baoth did not seem to be a Sith. Could he just be a simple hermit whose time in isolation, wallowing in his own thoughts, had turned him into a true zealot?
As he was lost in his own ruminations, he tripped over a twig. Cursing, he stood up and saw sunlight ahead. There was a clearing. Squinting his eyes, he saw that there was a starfighter parked.
Starkiller approached the fighter, wondering whose it could be. But of course, he realized. C'Baoth must have come to Kashyyyk on a starfighter.
But as he approached the starfighter, he was struck by how pristine it appeared. It seemed to be newly minted. But that was odd … C'Baoth told him he had come to Kashyyyk many years ago. This starfighter seemed to have only been here a few days … Could someone else have come to Kashyyyk?
The young clone hoisted himself into the fighter's cockpit, checking the flight logs. Indeed, the ship had only arrived just a few days ago. He cycled through the logs, checking the ID of the pilot. The data read clearly: JORUUS C'BAOTH.
Eyebrow raised, Starkiller continued to cycle through the flight logs. Why would C'Baoth lie about being here for years when he's only been here a few days? Where did this ship come from?
He continued cycling through the logs. And a planet's ID signature jumped out at him.
Byss.
Starkiller bit his lip. He had heard of Byss from Vader … well, the original Galen had heard of Byss from Vader. Kamino was not the Emperor's only cloning facility. Byss had been another cloning stronghold, this one the personal facility of the Emperor. But why had C'Baoth been on Byss? Had he tried to put an end to the Emperor's cloning operation?
Based on the flight logs, it seemed that the ship had peacefully departed from Byss. There hadn't been a fight. It was as though C'Baoth had been allowed to leave … in peace.
Suspicion roused, Starkiller downloaded the flights logs to his personal datapad before swinging himself out of the cockpit and back onto the forest floor.
Something's not right here.
Though his connection back to the Force was not as strong as it once was, his gut was telling him that something was wrong. He had to get off Kashyyyk. He had to get away – now!
He could make a run for it. Now. C'Baoth would never know. He could return to his own fighter – or even take C'Baoth's.
That opportunity never presented itself.
"My Boy … and I had such high hopes for you …"
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Starkiller was blasted off his feet, his body slamming into the trunk of a tree. Limbs sprouted from the roots, holding his arms and legs to the trunk, effectively pinning him in place.
C'Baoth emerged from the darkness of the trees into the clearing. His hair was wilder than ever, his pupils wide, as though there were no irises.
Starkiller struggled against his bindings. C'Baoth blasted him back, forcing him against the tree with the Force, holding him in place.
"Your thoughts are not difficult to read," the Jedi Master lamented. "For someone who has such potential, who has seen and done so much – you have yet to shield your thoughts."
"Let me go!"
"You think to flee from me?" C'Baoth's pupils grew wider, his arms waving wildly. "You? Leave me? When I am on the verge of restoring the Jedi Order? When I restored your powers? This is how you repay me?"
"What were you doing on Byss?" Starkiller yelled through grit teeth, the vines and branches extending further across his torso.
"I have never been to Byss!" C'Baoth raged. "I have lived here on Kashyyyk for many years!" And Starkiller saw it in his eyes – the mad Jedi really believed his own words.
"Your … flight log … it says … you've only been here … for a few days …"
C'Baoth raised his hand and the branches slid back. Starkiller collapsed to the ground. Then, he felt an iron vice around his throat. An invisible hand had lifted him off his feet and several meters into the air. He was rotating now, around C'Baoth who was controlling him with a single wave of his hand. He levitated around the Jedi Master and the clearing as though it were an enormous carousel.
"I tire of your games. A ridiculous story. Can you not see my ship has been here for decades? Can you not see the vines covering it, the scoring on its sides?"
Starkiller opened his eyes and stared down at the ship. It seemed absolutely pristine to him.
"You're … you're insane …"
C'Baoth's eyes widened. He slammed Starkiller to the ground. Then threw him twenty feet high into the air and slammed him down again. And again. And each time he said a single word. "NEVER! SAY! I! AM! INSANE!" With the final word, he threw Starkiller across the clearing.
Starkiller crawled along the forest floor. Spittle rained out of C'Baoth's mouth. "I am the only sane one in this galaxy! I am the only one who sees what needs to be done!" He flipped Starkiller onto his back with a boot … before pinning him place. "You are not going anywhere. You are going to be my apprentice. We will rebuild the Jedi Order together."
"I'm leaving," Starkiller spat. "I'd never serve a madman like you!"
C'Baoth's composure seemed to change, as though someone had flipped a switch. He withdrew his foot from Starkiller's chest and helped him to his feet, dusting him off. "Discipline," he breathed. "I should have seen it. That is what you lack. It is clear that Master Kota coddled you. But never fear, my apprentice. You will be pleased to know that this is to be rectified. I will mold you into the first of a new breed of Jedi."
Starkiller watched incredulously as C'Baoth turned his back to him and began walking in the direction of the Marek homestead. He stopped at the edge of the clearing. "You will go to the cave in the Shadowlands. You will bring back a lightsaber crystal."
"Do you really think I would serve you after you attacked me?" The clone's incredulity was only growing.
"Yes." A small smile flitted under the white beard. "Did you really think those three Wookies last night were my only prisoners?"
Around him, dozens, perhaps hundreds of Wookies dropped from the treetops around the starfighter, held aloft by vines. The Wookies were all manner of shapes and sizes and colors. Some were old. Some in their prime. And there women and children mixed in too. They all looked pitiful. Sad. Emaciated. Weakened, as though their very life essence had been drained from them. And they all grunted, pleading for Starkiller to help them.
C'Baoth turned back to the young clone, a smile on his face. "Did you think the Wookies wouldn't miss three of their best warriors? Entire search parties were sent out over the past few days. I've had quite the time rounding them up. None of them are as sensitive to the Force as their three companions from last night … but what few midichlorians they have will provide adequate sustenance for me."
"No …" Starkiller breathed.
"Shall I begin feeding now? But which shall I dine on when there are so many to choose from?"
"Please …"
C'Baoth raised a hand towards a small Wookie child. "Just an appetizer for now …"
"Wait!" Starkiller stepped forward, hands out. C'Baoth eyed him curiously. "I'll do it." He kneeled. "I will be your apprentice."
C'Baoth stared down at him. "One hour. You have one hour to retrieve the crystal from the cave. If you are not back, I start feasting on their midichlorians."
Starkiller nodded. He turned and ran into the trees, not daring to even look back.
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Starkiller was in near-pitch darkness. He had found the Shadowlands alright. But they were vast, much of them uncharted. And they covered the planet's surface. How was he supposed to find a cave and return to the surface in an hour?
He reached out with the Force, but the connection was weak. The midichlorians he had siphoned from the three Wookies had worked to reestablish his connection, but it was not as strong as it once was.
Still, he reached out, struggling to find any hint, any echo in the Force that would lead him to a cave.
Nothing.
There was too much life down here in the Shadowlands, teeming with living essence. It clouded his vision.
He sat on a tree stump and held his face in his hands. An idea struck him. He reached out with his mind. "Revan … Revan please …"
But there was no response from the dark woods.
The situation was hopeless. Those Wookies were doomed. And there was no telling what C'Baoth would do next. The man was insane, that much was clear. At least with Plagueis or the Emperor, they were predictable to a degree. But C'Baoth … he was a whole different animal.
Snap!
A twig broke next to him. Starkiller snapped to his feet, vibroblade in hand. "H-Hello?" he called out into the darkness.
No response.
Snap!
Another twig. And a third. Starkiller looked around in the woods. Three shapes emerged from behind the trees.
Three Wookies.
Starkiller cocked his head. There was no mistaking it … those Wookies were the ones he had taken the midichlorians from last night. Was this a dream?
There was something otherworldly about these Wookies. Yes … their forms appeared ghostly, shimmering. The Wookies turned and raced off into the woods.
A sudden impulse struck Starkiller. He wanted to apologize, to beg their forgiveness. He raced after them. As he ran, the ground seemed to become less sturdy … more muddy. He slipped and rolled down, down into a thick, wooded ravine …
Grunting, he staggered to his feet. The Wookies were gone.
Something was off … this ravine … it felt … cold …
There was a sudden warning in the Force … a new figure was emerging from behind a tree, ethereal. It moved with an unnatural gait. Starkiller backed away as a man – was it a man? – materialized before him. It wore a long, torn and tattered cape. It had long sharp claws for fingers. A mask – similar to the one worn by Darth Vader – shrouded his head. And in its hand … a red blade sprouted, held in the same backward stance that Starkiller himself used.
And there was something familiar about it … something that reminded him of … him …
The dark figure surged forward, bringing its lightsaber down in a fierce arc. Starkiller countered with his vibroblade, hoping the cortosis weave would hold. The figure spun its blade, flipping it into its other hand, slicing in the reverse direction, knocking Starkiller of his feet.
The young clone slammed hard onto the forest floor. He stood up – the Dark Warrior raised its blade for the kill.
Starkiller kicked his legs out, knocking the figure off its feet. The figure flipped backwards into a new fighting stance, the ravine now shrouded in the bloodred glow of its weapon. It raised a clawed hand and lightning arced out of its fingers, enveloping Starkiller.
He shrieked, his vibroblade flying. He opened his eyes and saw the three Wookies standing behind the Dark Warrior, watching him sadly.
No … if he failed, there would be more than three dead Wookies this night.
He couldn't let that happen!
Summoning the last ounce of his strength, he rose to his feet, screaming in agony, forcing his body to resist the lightning that now coursed through is limbs. He spread his arms and legs out, and with a mighty burst of strength, Force Repulsed the Dark Warrior away.
The Dark Warrior was blasted several inches back. He maintained his fighting stance, ready to unleash torrents of Force energy on his foe.
But Starkiller was already running. He Force Jumped into the air, summoned his vibroblade, and slashed downward as he landed, his blade slicing the Dark Warrior's head clean off.
The helmet rolled to where Starkiller had landed, settling at his feet. There was a small explosion, burning the mask away.
And the Dark Warrior's face was his own.
He backed away as the Dark Warrior's headless body crumpled, then vanished. The Wookies were gone.
"Galen …"
The voice tore into his chest.
"Juno?"
Juno Eclipse was emerging from behind another three. Just like the three Wookies, just like the Dark Warrior, her body took on an ethereal form. Starkiller lowered his weapon and raced to her, embracing her. He stared down into her eyes. "Juno …?"
Her smile turned into a frown. "Why couldn't you save me …?"
"Juno!"
She burst into flames in his hands. He yelled out for her, and a gust of wind blew her ashes far up into the trees and out of his reach. He was alone again.
Or … not quite …
He stared around him. Others were manifesting. Pooja was there, staring at him longingly.
Kaden.
Zarbina.
Wedge.
PROXY.
"You failed us," the Pooja figure said.
"No …"
"You failed all of us," Pooja continued. "I loved you … and you let us all down … now the galaxy will burn … because you could not save us …"
The figures closed in on him, surrounding him. He cried out into the night as his vision went black.
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"Wake up."
White light.
It was the first thing he saw.
But that was odd. He felt no pain.
Starkiller drew himself up from the ground and into a kneeling position. He took in his surroundings. Rocky walls. Was it ... a cavern?
A small brook flowed past him. And littering the walls and ceilings were crystals of various shapes and colors.
"Galen … wake up …"
Starkiller's vision slowly adjusted to the ethereal lighting in the cave. A figure was walking towards him. A hooded man in … Jedi robes?
The ghostly figure of Kento Marek smiled down at him. "My Son …"
"F-father?" Starkiller breathed in and out, hardly daring to believe it. But yet … he looked away. "No. I'm a clone. I'm not your Son."
Another voice rang out of the darkness. "You share his DNA and yet you want to squabble over mere semantics, boy?"
Starkiller could hardly bring himself to believe it. The Force ghost of Rahm Kota had joined Kento Marek, the two standing over him.
"What is this?" Starkiller breathed.
"What's it look like, boy?" Kota asked. "A good ol' fashioned Jedi Council … the first in over two decades!"
"J-Jedi Council?"
"We have to wait for the others," Kento smiled.
"Others?"
Behind them, a woman appeared. Kento smiled at her and intertwined his fingers as they tenderly kissed each other on the lips. Kota bleched.
Mallie Marek beamed down at Starkiller. "My son … my little boy, all grown up …"
"I'm not the boy you raised," Starkiller said. "I may share his DNA … but I am not your son … I'm a clone, a carbon copy, grown in a lab …"
"Where one comes from does not alter who they choose to be … nor who loves them. Or have you learned nothing from the journey I sent you on?"
Starkiller was shocked for a fourth time. "M-Master Jinn?"
The Force ghost of Qui-Gon Jinn materialized, joining Rahm Kota and the two Mareks. He beamed down at Starkiller. "You have come a long way from when we first met on Dantooine …"
Starkiller looked down at his hands. "But I failed … Master Jinn, you had me search for the Chosen One, the one with the power to save Juno … you said I would find the truth out about myself. And I did … I'm a clone." A tear rolled down his cheek as he looked up at Kento and Mallie. "And your real son … he's once again a servant of the Dark …"
"And what of our other Son?" Mallie asked.
Starkiller looked away. "Please don't call me that … I'm not worthy of it …"
There was a moment's silence. Qui-Gon broke it with a question. "Tell us … what do you know of the Force?"
"I know that I'm not worthy of it …"
Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow. "And what makes anyone worthy of the Force? Do we earn the right to know its secrets? How? What acts could make anyone worthy of the eternal mystery?"
"The Force is living," Kento said. "It chooses the ways it will work. It chooses whom it will work through."
"Only the Force has the right to," Mallie added.
Qui-Gon was stern. "And what happens when the will of the Living Force is denied? When one decides to tamper with its very heart?"
On the cave wall behind the Jedi, the lights glowing from the crystals formed into shapes, objects. Mortis. The Temple. Light and Dark. And the Dark Apprentice, siphoning the very essence of the Force from the planet itself.
"What happens when one decides not to submit to the will of the Force … when they decide to alter its very nature and enslave it at its heart?"
"The galaxy will not be able to handle the imbalance," Mallie said. "The power of Mortis is too great for mere mortals. The galaxy will implode …"
"If the Force itself is siphoned from Mortis," Kento added, "its power will be unsustainable in mortal hands. The Force will implode on itself … the universe will cease to exist …"
"We're talking galactic annihilation," Kota groused.
"So you see," Qui-Gon stated, "the coming battle isn't just Jedi versus Sith, Rebels versus Empire … if Plagueis wins, it will mean the end of the universe."
Starkiller was shocked. "Every living thing is touched by the Force. If they siphon its power from Mortis – where it originates and flows from –"
"I am glad you appreciate the magnitude of the situation," Qui-Gon acknowledged.
"How can I stop it?" Starkiller asked. "And why does it have to be me? There are other Jedi -."
"No, there aren't," Qui-Gon said. "My old apprentice and Yoda still cling to the old ways. To the Jedi Code which itself brought about our undoing."
"It is only one who has broken free of the limitations of the Code that can truly walk in the Light … than can truly have balance …"Mallie said.
Starkiller gesticulated wildly in frustration. "But that's exactly what C'Baoth wanted me to do!"
"And what is the purpose of the Jedi, at their heart?" Qui-Gon continued, ignoring the boy's protests.
"To be the guardians of peace and justice in the galaxy," Starkiller answered.
"Why?" Kento asked.
"… I don't know … because we feel compassion -."
Qui-Gon's smile was broad. "Yes. Compassion is the drive for the Jedi. The unwillingness to see the innocent suffer. To defend the defenseless. Now ask yourself … if this emotion drives the essence of who a Jedi is, how can the Jedi Code – as traditionally understood – make sense …?"
"I'm not sure I -."
"There is no emotion," Kota quoted. "There is peace …"
"There is no passion," Mallie added, looking at her husband. "There is serenity …"
"And without emotion, how can one feel compassion?" Qui-Gon asked.
"Without passion – how can one rise to be a defender of the innocent?" Mallie asked. "With no passion for what is right, how can one fight the darkness?"
"The Code is flawed," Qui-Gon admitted. "And those who saw its limitations, saw the redeeming power of love and compassion, were excluded from the Council."
"Like you," Starkiller realized.
Qui-Gon was empathetic. "This is why my old apprentice Obi-Wan failed to defeat Vader, and why Master Yoda failed to stop Darth Sidious."
"This is why Anakin Skywalker fell in the first place," said Kento.
"He was driven to it," Mallie added.
"Anakin was not seduced to the Dark Side … instead, it was the Jedi who drove him away from the Light by telling him he could not feel love, could not feel passion. It was not love that drove him to the Dark Side … love will save a person, not destroy them. It was the Jedi's denial of love that caused his fall …"
"And their belief that once one fell, they were irredeemable," Mallie said. "Or as Yoda puts it – 'if once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny.'" She beamed, amused by her own impression of the aged Jedi Master.
"And so, it will not be a traditional Jedi that will save the galaxy," Qui-Gon said. "But a new kind of Jedi. One who can feel love, compassion, pity, righteous anger without giving in to the negative sides of those emotions – one who allows himself to experience love – that will be the Jedi who brings balance to the Force."
Starkiller allowed their words to wash over him. He listened patiently.
And he rejected them.
"You've got the wrong one then … I'm nothing but a clone, a carbon copy, an artificial man. The Jedi you need is one who has experienced all of those things you mentioned – one who has lived …"
"But you did live," Qui-Gon said quietly.
Behind them, the lights from the crystals took form again. All the colors mixed, reconstructing scene after scene.
Starkiller saw himself in Vader's lab, with the droid lookalike of Juno. He saw himself unable to destroy what he loved.
He saw himself on Cato Nemoidia, gripping Kota's hand, fighting with him side-by-side.
He saw himself dueling Vader on Kamino, giving in to his righteous anger, believing Juno had been killed.
He saw Vader, helpless, at his knees … and he saw him sparing his life.
More scenes played out in vivid color.
He was excitedly talking about his plan to find Anakin Skywalker, the Chosen One, with Kota.
He saw himself fighting Mandalorians on Onderon.
He was laughing with Pooja on Naboo.
He was bickering with Kota.
Laughing with Wedge at Kaden getting his hand stuck in a refresher.
Sparring with PROXY.
He saw Pooja grab him and kiss him … and he kissed her back.
He saw himself, two blue lightsabers in hand, facing down hordes of foes, ready to sacrifice his life to save his friends.
He saw the Rebels cheering him, excited as he arrived at Dantooine.
He gave the galaxy hope.
Qui-Gon chuckled as he turned to Starkiller. "And you wonder why the Force chose you …"
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Starkiller shook his head. "But look what I've done with it … Kota, you're dead because of me …"
"Bah. Death is not the end boy. Don't mourn for an old warrior who's had his fill of adventure, fighting the good fight. Not to mention a lifetime of Tarisian ale …" Kota stared down at his old apprentice with sympathy.
"How can you be so nonchalant, Kota?!"
"Becoming one with the Force," he said, "can change even the most jaded perspective." Compassion filled Kota's face. "It had to happen sooner or later, boy. You outgrew me … I knew that … long before we even reached Dantooine. I knew it back on Kamino, when Vader knelt helpless at your feet. That is the burden of all masters … we are, what you grow beyond …"
Starkiller looked down at his own hands. "But … you don't understand what I've done … three Wookies … innocents … dead because of me … because I desired the quick and easy route …"
Qui-Gon agreed. "Yes. That much is true."
"Then you know why I'm the wrong man for the job."
"And who here perfectly followed the Light?" Qui-Gon asked. The others shook their heads.
"You can't be serious," Starkiller spat. "I committed murder for power. There's no coming back from that!"
"Have you forgotten what we have said," Mallie asked. "You're thinking like an old Jedi. You have stepped on to the Dark Path. That does not mean you have to continue down it, contrary to what the Jedi of old believed …"
"You alone are responsible for the path you choose now," Kento said. "Take your pain, your guilt, your regret … use it. You are right to feel shame. What you did was horrendous. To most, unforgivable. Even to yourself. So learn from it. Learn that the quick and easy path is not always the right way … that even when things seem hopeless, there is always another path that can be taken …"
Starkiller wiped the tears from his eyes.
"Failure is the greatest teacher of all," Qui-Gon chided. "A lesson that even the greatest Jedi Masters have to learn sooner or later. And, if I'm not mistaken, there are nearly a hundred Wookies up above who need you now. You can never atone for what you did, but you can start afresh. Each new day is a renewal."
But Starkiller still protested. "But I can't … I can't face the original Starkiller. You don't understand – he stole my midichlorians. He's doubled his powers! I'm not strong enough! And if I die … the Jedi Order really is finished. Obi-Wan and Yoda are in hiding … there'll be no Jedi left for the Rebellion to rally around! I'm the last Jedi willing to join the fight!"
"The Force will find a way," Qui-Gon replied. "And you're wrong when you say you're the last of the Jedi …"
Mallie smiled kindly down at him. "After nearly two decades … you are the first."
"And there will be more after you," Kento said. "The Force will find a way. It works as it will. The fire of the Jedi will never truly disappear. The customs, the rituals, the Code … that which is outdated will vanish away. But the essence – the willingness to sacrifice oneself to fight for the Light – that will always remain!"
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"But what if I die?" Starkiller protested.
"Has that ever stopped you before?" Kota asked. "I've seen you … you may be a clone, boy, but the spirit of Galen Marek – that same spirit which held on to the light 'till the end resides in you!"
"And that light in him is not as gone as you may think," Kento said. "It is still there … the love he had for Juno – the love you also feel – remains. And as long as that loves remains, he can never be broken … No one is beyond salvation."
Starkiller shook his head. "He may not give me that opportunity. Then what?" He looked up at Kento and Mallie. "You expect me to kill your son? You want that?"
"We expect you to try to find the Galen that resides within him, that resides in you." Kento was steadfast. "But if his choice to remain on the Dark Path truly is his own … then you must do what is necessary to stop him from siphoning the power of Mortis …"
"But I -."
"No more buts," Qui-Gon chided. "No more excuses. The time has come for the First Jedi to rise. To meet the Dark Side head on and defeat it. To set the spark of hope that will rally the galaxy against the forces of tyranny and the Dark Side …"
The four Force ghosts surrounded Starkiller, placing their hands on his shoulders and head.
"Gaze on us," Qui-Gon said, "the final battle is yours alone, but you may be able to gain some strength from our memory. You cannot escape your destiny. You will have to face the Dark Apprentice one final time …"
"You may feel alone," Kota comforted. "But you never have been …"
Mallie wrapped her arms around the boy. "We are all a part of you. And in you. And we will always be with you."
Kento also kneeled down and embraced Starkiller with his wife. Starkiller settled himself into their embrace, though they were mere spirit. "You will face your destiny," Kento continued. "And you will make all of us proud, my Son."
Starkiller stared up into Kento and Mallie's eyes. "You still … you still see me as your Son?"
"Indeed." Kento nodded. "You may feel unworthy to be our Son … but that does not change how we see you. You are, always have been and always will be our Son."
"And please …" Mallie pleaded. "Do what you can to bring your Brother home …"
And Starkiller knelt there, surrounded by the four Force Ghosts, reveling in their love.
Overwhelmed to be a member of what was the first Jedi Council in nearly two decades …
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When Starkiller awoke, he was no longer in the Shadowlands. He was in the Upper Forests of Kashyyyk. He sat up, looking at his hands and legs, flexing his fingers. He narrowed his eyes, staring into the forests ahead.
He knew what he had to do.
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.
.
Night had fallen, and the stars were shining their light through the gaps in the foliage. A wooden chest in the old Marek home was flung open. Starkiller reached in and withdrew a metallic cylinder. He stared down at it; his eyes were grim.
No longer did he feel unworthy of this weapon.
No. This weapon would serve him faithfully as the lightsaber of the First Jedi.
With a flick of his thumb, Kento Marek's lightsaber lit the house with a brilliant blue light …
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C'Baoth was kneeling in the clearing, stray rays of moonlight shining down on his body as he meditated. Above him, the semi-conscious and weakening Wookies were all moaning, trying to roar, unable to summon the energy.
A figure appeared from out of the mist.
C-Baoth did not open his eyes as the figure approached from behind. "You have returned … but I sense a newfound resolve in you …"
Starkiller's fingers flexed. "I've made a decision … I don't need a master like you."
C'Baoth's eyes slowly opened and he rose to his feet, turning to face the boy. "Indeed …?"
Starkiller ignited Kento's lightsaber. "I am a Jedi. A true Jedi! Not a pretender … like you …"
C'Baoth hissed. "Have you forgotten …?" He waved his clawed hand around. The vines dangling the Wookies shook violently. The Wookies screeched, no strength left to resist at all. "I hold all the cards here. You thought having the blood of three Wookies on your hands was unbearable … how about a hundred?!"
Starkiller pointed his lightsaber at the fallen Jedi Master. "You will not harm them. You will not hurt anyone ever again!"
C'Baoth's pupils were like saucers and flecks of spit sprayed from his mouth. "Then if the lives of a hundred innocents will not move you … then perhaps your own pain will!" C'Baoth raised his hands. Intense blue lighting flashed from his fingertips, ready to fry Starkiller alive.
Starkiller angled Kento's blue lightsaber. He closed his eyes, calling out to the Force. The blue energy was absorbed into the blade … then redirected to C'Baoth.
The Mad Jedi screeched as his form was engulfed in electricity. He was blasted back against a tree, smoke issuing from his robes. With a mad click of his jaw, he staggered to his feet. His hand twitched at his side.
"So be it." And his face was lit with purple light as he ignited his own lightsaber …
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