Chapter Eight: Forbidden Knowledge
The Twi'lek Festival of Awakening began at dusk. The entire population of Kalikori Village emerged to sing, dance, and celebrate. Twi'lek religious leaders stood at the corners of the square, telling stories both of their faith and of their pilgrimage to set up this community on Tython.
Ashara joined eagerly in the dancing, while Canlyn moved among the speakers, absorbing as much information as she could about this culture. At Ashara's urging, she did not ask about Nalen, trusting to her friend to uncover that information.
After an hour of dancing, the Twi'leks began setting up a feast. Canlyn felt herself growing impatient, but wrestled against the impulse. Impatience was unbecoming of a Jedi.
Ashara approached, beaming with childlike enthusiasm. "These Twi'leks know how to dance!"
"We are not here for revelry," Canlyn reminded her.
"Relax, Lyn. I asked about Nalen. Matriarch Kolovich was right. To these villagers, he's a hero – and I can't really argue with them. He fought off a Flesh Raider attack a couple months ago, and has helped organize their defenses ever since."
Canlyn felt embarrassed at her impatience. She should have known Ashara would live up to her duty.
"Nalen left to trade at the Jedi Outpost when the attack happened," Ashara continued. "He'd have seen the attack start, and he would have been in a position to steal an artifact in the confusion. ANd he hasn't been seen here since. These people are dirt poor. I'd say he took advantage of an opportunity to pilfer something valuable."
Canlyn doubted it was that simple. Nalen stole an artifact that just happened to be a holo-recording of the first Fallen Jedi? Unlikely. Still, his absence from the village since this morning's attack was equally unlikely to be coincidence.
"Do they have any idea where he might be?" Canlyn asked.
"Ever since the attack on the village, he's made camp in a cave near Flesh Raider territory," Ashara said, nodding toward the mountains west of the village. "Seems like a good place to start."
The terrain to the west of the village was difficult to traverse, and progress was slow. Canlyn insisted they needed to move silently, so as not to advertise their presence to either Nalen or any Flesh Raiders in the area. The combination of stealth and hostile terrain made it a longer journey than expected, and it was almost midnight when they finally reached the cave.
Nalen's camp was at the end of a long tunnel. His tent was there, and Canlyn noted glowing embers in his campfire, but the Twi'lek was nowhere in evidence.
She felt a prickle on the back of her neck. Force energy, but not the friendly emanations that had surrounded her throughout her training. This was something cold and vicious. Something Dark. She glanced at Ashara, who nodded. Her friend felt it, too.
They followed the sensation into Nalen's tent. They found the holocron inside a heavily-patched bag made out of an animal's skin. Canlyn reached for it, but the Darkness within the crystal made her hesitate.
Ashara tensed. "We're not alone," she said, her montrals reading a presence behind them. Canlyn's fur rose, and her muscles tensed as she turned.
A Twi'lek male stood at the entrance to the tent, sneering at them.
"You Jedi make a lot of noise."
His voice was rough, angry. He carried a crude but effectively-fashioned spear. Canlyn's night vision was strong, and she was able to discern dried blood on the tip.
"Nalen Raloch?" she asked. "I am Canlyn Desan, this is Ashara Zavros. We are Padawans of - "
"I don't care what your names are," he snapped. "This is my camp. You have no right to be here."
"You have no right to steal Jedi artifacts!" Ashara snapped.
Canlyn stepped in front of her friend. "We have come to recover the holocron. Once we have it, we will leave you in peace."
"Ah, yes. The holocron." Nalen sneered. "It belongs to me now. I purchased it this morning, from a Jedi."
"A Jedi?" Canlyn frowned.
"He said his name was Calief. He traded it for a few skins, said he sensed I would make better use of it than the Jedi would. I intend to do exactly that."
Canlyn and Ashara exchanged a glance. They started to move in opposite directions, circling around the Twi'lek.
"The holocron," Canlyn said. "What has it told you?"
Nalen cocked his head, regarding the two young women.
"There are hidden wonders, Jedi, and my journey has just begun. Rajivari has shown me how to punish our enemies. Tython will belong to us – not to Flesh Raiders, and not to you!"
He raised a hand, and the holocron leapt toward him. Canlyn reached out with her senses, diverted it to her own hand.
Nalen grimaced. "Fine," he spat. "Have your precious artifact. Rajivari has already shown me the path!"
He raised the hand clutching the spear. Canlyn tensed her leg muscles to jump on him.
He did not throw the spear. Instead, the walls of the cave began to shake. Rocks began to fall. He had used the Force, as taught to him by Rajivari, and was collapsing the cave around them.
"Run," he called to them. "Run or die!"
Canlyn leapt at him, but a telekinetic blast knocked her back to Earth. Ashara cried out for her, rushed to her side.
"We must catch him!" Canlyn shouted, struggling to her feet. But Nalen was already gone.
"We need to get out of here!" Ashara said, yelling to be heard over the rumbling of the rocks. "Now!"
They ran through the collapsing tunnel. Rocks fell around them. Canlyn and Ashara focused their minds, creating a shield from the cave-in. The rockfall and their own adrenaline distracted them, making it a challenge to maintain the shield, but they held firm.
They reached open air, collapsing onto the ground and gulping in oxygen. The mouth of the cave filled in behind them.
"I do not like tunnels!" Ashara declared between gasps.
Canlyn looked around, searching for any sign of the Twi'lek hunter. He couldn't possibly have gone far, but he must have been shielding himself. She could not see or sense a thing.
She looked down at the holocron, still clutched in her hand. Such a small crystal to have caused so much harm. "Master Yuon was right," she mused. "Rajivari's holocron holds hidden lessons of darkness. From beyond the grave, he has made Nalen Raloch his final apprentice."
"I have a bad feeling about this," Ashara said.
Canlyn could not find grounds to argue.
It was Corporal Cress Va'Shann's second visit to Coruscant. If he had his way, it would be his last.
The Senate had wanted him to testify in person about the pirate intercept, the one that had freed so many Republic citizens who had been captured to sell as slaves. Sergeant Bixwill could not attend; his injuries would take time to heal. That left Cress as the senior member of the squadron.
The senators had taken turns praising his courage and resourcefulness under fire, gushing about how he had turned a calamity into a victory. Cress had wanted to shout back at them. Good soldiers were dead, and most of them did not need to be. Had they been issued something as simple as smoke grenades as part of their standard gear, they could have stopped the pirates immediately. Private J'Teel would still have fallen, but no other soldiers would have had to join her.
He didn't say that, of course. He was a good soldier, and he stuck to his prepared talking points. He gave credit to Sergeant Bixwill, who had put himself in harm's way to pinpoint the pirates' position. He gave credit to the men, who had held up under fire and followed his lead in a chaotic situation. He respectfully pointed out that smoke grenades would have simplified the operation, but he made sure to keep all rancor out of his voice.
When the session finally ended, he returned to his room and called the hospital, checking on Bixwill. The sergeant was asleep, but his wife gave Cress a thorough update. He was making a good recovery physically, but was struggling with the Psych evaluation. He would likely end up on desk duty, career prospects diminished as a result. Another good soldier, transformed into a casualty of bureaucracy.
Another call came in. A Republic Trooper, a veteran judging from his age and the scars on his face.
"Cress Va'Shann?" the man said. "My name is Harron Tavus. I'm the commander of HAVOC Squad."
Cress stood instantly to attention. HAVOC Squad was legendary, the founding unit of the Republic's special forces division. In an age where the public had lost much faith in their leaders, HAVOC Squad's victories were a much-needed boost to morale, a reminder that the Republic was capable of greatness when it was run properly.
"It's an honor, sir," Cress said.
Tavus waved away the response. "I'm not fishing for compliments, soldier. Your intercept was a good piece of work. You saved your squad, and freed a large number of slaves that were almost certainly bound for the Empire."
Cress sighed. He'd been hearing variations on this all day. "Permission to speak freely, sir?"
"Always."
"If we'd had proper equipment, with backup forces at the ready, there would never have been a problem," Cress said. "Good men are dead because we didn't have the tools to do the job right. We had to improvise and shoot our way out because the Senate wanted to say they were doing something without bothering to provide adequate resources. My sergeant would be healthy and on the front lines if the politicians cared as much about results as they did appearances."
Cress fell silent, cringing as he realized how much he had just said. "I apologize, sir," he said. "That outburst was unbecoming."
Tavus laughed in response.
"I would pay good money to see someone tell those blowhards all of that, right to their pompous faces," the captain said. "You might just be one of us after all, Sergeant."
Cress started.
"Sir? I'm sorry, I'm a corporal."
"Not anymore," Tavus replied. "Your CO will make this official in the morning, but I wanted to be the one to tell you. You're being promoted, for your sins. This time tomorrow, you'll be on your way to the biggest mess the Republic has going."
Cress' eyes widened, as Tavus grinned broadly.
"Sergeant Cress Va'Shann? Welcome to HAVOC Squad."