Chapter Two: The Only Jedi in the Galaxy
Canlyn Dessan and her friend, Ashara Zavros, stood nervously before the Jedi Council.
The two padawans had taken turns testifying to the events at the Great Forge, the shrine where the first Jedi lightsabers had been forged. Nalen Raloch, the Twi'lek hunter whose mind had been turned by the Dark Jedi Calief, had attempted to destroy the Forge. Canlyn had managed to talk him down, and Nalen was now in custody… But when Calief had appeared, she and Ashara had survived only because of the intervention of Master Caecinius.
"Did Master Yuon not ask you to wait for assistance?" Master Orgus asked. He was present in the form of a hologram, having been sent to deal with a crisis on Alderaan.
"She did," Canlyn affirmed. "Nalen already had a head start on us. It was my judgment that the situation was too urgent to wait."
"So you substituted your judgment for that of your Master?"
"It wasn't an order," Ashara protested. "Lyn didn't – "
The Jedi Masters, as one, glared at the young Togruta. Ashara felt the severity of their gazes and, for once, fell silent.
Canlyn bowed her head, replied as if Ashara had not spoken. "I did," she acknowledged.
"You believed you knew better?" Orgus pressed.
Canlyn hesitated, raised her head. The faces of the Council were unreadable. Grandmaster Satele Shan met her eyes fully, but she could detect neither disappointment nor approval in her gaze.
"In this instance, I did," she said.
She thought of elaborating – of pointing out how unhinged Nalen had been. Had she waited, as her Master had wanted, they would not have arrived in time. But the result was irrelevant to Orgus' charge. She was a padawan. It was not her place to force her own views. It was her place to obey.
"You also forged a lightsaber," Satele said. "Had Master Yuon granted authorization?"
"No," Canlyn stated.
"Did The Force call you to the Forge?" Satele asked.
Padawans could make the pilgrimage to The Forge to create their first blades for one of two reasons: As a final test by their Masters to complete their training, or because they felt compelled by The Force to do so.
Neither of these applied to Canlyn. She had created the weapon because of the situation. The only thing that had compelled her was necessity.
"No," she repeated, feeling as if she was condemning herself with her answer.
The members of the Council exchanged glances. Satele nodded.
"Thank you for your honesty, Padawan. The Council will deliberate on these events, and call both of you back to render its judgment. Until then, we suggest you meditate upon your recent actions, and upon the Jedi Code."
It was a dismissal. Ashara all but fled the chamber. Canlyn hesitated. She was already in enough trouble, and it was not her place to speak to the Council without first being spoken to. Still…
"Regardless of the Council's judgment against me, I would like to speak on behalf of Nalen Raloch," she said.
The Jedi Masters seemed startled at her breach of decorum.
"He is not an evil man," Canlyn went on. "In the end, he had no desire to harm anyone."
Satele raised a hand, forestalling further discussion.
"Nalen is being cared for by our best healers," she said. "He is far too old and unstable to ever be trained as a Jedi. But when he is whole, he will receive limited training focused on controlling his abilities. Then he will be sent back to Kalikori Village, to his people."
"If that meets with your approval, Padawan," Master Orgus said drily.
Canlyn bowed her head again.
"Thank you, Grandmaster," she said. "Thank you all."
As the doors to the great chamber slid shut behind her, she closed her eyes, allowing herself the brief luxury of wallowing in her despair. She may not have violated any direct instructions, but she had certainly acted against Master Yuon's wishes. She had created her lightsaber early, with her training incomplete, and with no compulsion by The Living Force. By her own admission, she had prioritized her judgment over that of her Master, and over that of the Council itself.
She had been taken from Cathar at only three cycles to be trained on Tython. The way of the Jedi was all she knew. Based on the Council's questions, that path might soon be closed to her. Which left one question, to which she had no answer.
If she wasn't a Jedi, then who was she?
The astromech was designated T7-01, and he was on a mission.
Technically, he had been on a mission for more than a month now. He was one of several reconnaissance droids that had been sent to scout Tython's wilds, to scout the wilderness and identify hazards. He had orders to return to the Jedi Outpost when his memory banks were full, or to return immediately if he discovered anything requiring the Council's immediate attention.
His memory banks were not full.
He beeped excitedly to the Jedi Knight guarding the Outpost.
"Whoa, little guy," the man said in a somewhat condescending tone. T7 beeped impatiently. "No, the crisis is done. We pushed the Flesh Raiders back, and Master Caecinius made short work of the man controlling them."
T7 beeped again, several times. The Knight frowned. "Are you certain?" The shrillness of T7's answering beep made the man wince and rub at his ear.
But when he recovered himself a second later, he reached immediately for his communicator.
Caecinius was surprised to be called in front of the Council twice in one morning. He had given a full report about Calief, and what he had seen of the events at The Forge. With Calief dead and the Flesh Raiders under control, surely there was nothing else requiring his attention?
When he arrived at the Council Chamber, an astromech droid stood at the center of the room. Master Kiwiks was absent from the meeting, not even attending holographically, and the remaining Jedi were grim-faced.
"Caecinius," Satele greeted him. "Thank you for coming so quickly."
He bowed his head. "Grandmaster Shan. Has something happened?"
Satele indicated the droid. "This is T7-01," she said. "A reconnaissance droid sent out last month to scout the wilderness."
"Last month?" Caecinius frowned. "Surely, it's too soon for him to have returned."
T7 beeped in reply. The droid had a recording of the Flesh Raiders' allies.
"He played it for us just before we sent for you," Master Syo told him. "It looks like this matter isn't quite as settled as we thought."
Satele nodded to T7, and a holographic image filled the screen. Calief, standing with two Flesh Raiders, speaking with another figure – a hooded figure.
"It is as you said, Master," Calief told the figure. "The Jedi are weak, corrupted by ritual and superstition. They worship the past with no understanding of it."
"Is the Rajivari holocron accessible?"
Caecinius stiffened as the hooded figure spoke. That voice… But that was impossible!
"It is utterly unprotected," Calief sneered. "They do not even comprehend its nature."
"And the Force Sensitive you observed?"
"The Twi'lek will be heading to the Outpost tomorrow," Calief confirmed. "In the confusion, it should be a simple matter to pass him the holocron. His own resentment will take care of the rest."
"Excellent," the hooded man said. "Tomorrow, our allies will receive their first live training with their new weapons. After your pet destroys the Forge, we will begin the cleansing of the Jedi."
There was no mistaking the voice. Caecinius did not understand how it could be – But it was unquestionably him.
The recording ended.
"This was taken the day before the assault on the Outpost," Satele said.
"I would say we owe Padawan Dessan a debt," Master Syo remarked. "Her persistence in tracking Nalen Raloch saved the Forge – and, it seems, disrupted this man's plan."
Master Orgus stared shrewdly at Caecinius.
"The hooded figure in the recording," Orgus said. "You reacted to him."
Caecinius nodded.
"His name is Bengel Morr," he said. "He was a padawan with me. On Coruscant."
He remembered training at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. Bengel, a Nautolan, had been Master Gos' other padawan. Caecinius recalled him as being studious and dedicated. Not unlike Canlyn Dessan, he had been more comfortable with histories and theory than with combat.
"He was in the Temple when the Sith attacked," Caecinius recalled. "That whole wing was wiped out. I barely made it out, even with Master Gos at my side." He again saw Gos, falling to Darth Thanaton's blade. Saw Thanaton lowering two lightsabers, in a cross, permanently marking his face. "I was certain he had been killed."
"Hundreds of Jedi died that day," Orgus said softly, remembering his own experiences on Coruscant. "We never recovered all the bodies."
"But Bengel was always gentle," Caecinius protested.
"Twenty years is a long time," Satele said. "Hardship changes us, not always for the better."
She stared right at Caecinius as she spoke those words.
"For him to turn against the Jedi," Syo said. "He must be stopped."
Caecinius nodded. For once, Master Syo had gotten to the heart of the matter.
"Where was this recording taken?" he asked.
T7 beeped a response. Coordinates. It was a cave in Flesh Raider territory, about ten kilometers north of Kalikori Village.
He was in the process of requisitioning a speeder to take him to the village, when he found himself with unexpected company. Satele Shan walked up, announcing that she would accompany him.
"I received word from Kalikori Village," she said as they traveled. "Matriarch Sumari is dying. Her daughter, Ranna, has requested my presence."
Caecinius privately thought that the Twi'leks had been the source of too many recent problems to make any requests of the Order.
Satele seemed able to read his silence, and responded.
"The Twi'leks harbor resentment against us for not doing more to aid them," she said. "Padawan Dessan believes their resentment is not unjustified."
"Canlyn Dessan is far too confident in all of her beliefs," Caecinius said.
"Perhaps. But I also think we have allowed ourselves to grow too insular."
She fixed him with a look.
"Bengel Morr," she said. "Tell me about him."
It was not a comfortable subject.
"Were you close?" she pressed.
"He was like a brother," Caecinius replied. "The two of us were a little like Canlyn and Ashara. I was always on the field, besting all comers as I dueled them with my practice blade. Master Gos expected that in time I would exceed him. Bengel was always in the library, studying Jedi lore and the mysteries of The Force. Only unlike Canlyn, who's quite good with a blade, Bengel was hopeless. When I was able to pull him to the field, I sometimes half-expected him to come out holding his sword by the wrong end."
He pictured his old friend on the training grounds at Coruscant, grinning up at him after receiving another walloping. "Have to admit, I'm getting better," Bengel had laughed. "Only if you're trying to make me tired of beating you," Caecinius had replied, even as he met his friend's smile.
He set his jaw firmly, focusing on the path to the village.
They attracted hostile stares when they arrived. With their hero, Nalen Raloch, currently in Jedi custody, the Twi'lek villagers were even more resentful of the Order than usual.
Caecinius ignored them as he scanned the area to the north.
"T7's coordinates lead that way." He indicated a mountain pass. "I'll meet you back here."
"The Council sent Master Kiwiks and her padawan on ahead," Satele told him. "They will likely be waiting for you."
They separated, Satele moving toward the large building in the center of the village, Caecinius toward its northern edge.
As he walked, a young Twi'lek man started to pick up a stone to throw at him. His mother stopped him.
"That's the Jedi swordmaster," the woman hissed. "He could wipe out this whole village single-handed!"
The woman's description made Caecinius' lips draw back in an involuntary grin. His bared teeth lent his green, tattooed face an even fiercer aspect. The villagers began actively backing away, which suited him just fine.
T7's coordinates led through the mountains, straight into Flesh Raider territory. It did not take long for a raiding party to attack. Not Bengel Morr's creatures – These were armed not with blasters, but with crude spears and axes. Dispatching them was the work of less than a minute.
He continued to sense the creatures around him as he advanced. They must have observed their comrades' slaughter, because they did not attack. Every so often, though, he heard running from above. He cleared his mind. He had difficulty doing so for meditation, but found it effortless to do so for combat.
As he neared the coordinates and began to climb, he saw a mass of Flesh Raiders gathering above him. Some were armed with spears, but others carried blasters.
A large, painted Flesh Warrior stepped out in front of them and howled at him. Their leader.
"Jeehd-ay!" the chieftain called.
Caecinius froze, stunned. Had that been... speech? Was the monster actually capable of speech?
That was the least of the chieftain's surprises. The painted Flesh Raider lifted his hands and directed a telekinetic blast.
It was clumsy. Had it come from any other source, Caecinius would have dodged easily. But he was still frozen with shock, and completely unprepared for a Force attack from a Flesh Raider. He was thrown backward and slid half a meter down the mountainside before recovering himself.
"Keel Jeehd-ay!" the chieftain howled.
The Flesh Raiders rushed forward, spears and guns raised, eager for his blood. Had the gun wielders thought to shoot him then and there, he would have been dead – But the call of instinct was too great; they could not stop themselves from physically descending.
Caecinius jumped to his feet, activating his lightsaber. He whirled in a full arc, slicing the creatures surrounding him. The others fell back. He pressed forward.
One creature remembered his blaster and fired. Caecinius raised his blade, deflected the bolt back on the shooter. Then he threw his blade in a wide arc, slicing a line of Flesh Raiders in two. He reached out with his mind, and the blade returned to his hand.
The Flesh Raider chieftain howled again, raising up a stone hammer that was the size of a grown man's body. He charged.
Caecinius held his ground. The chieftain swung his hammer. He blocked the blow, though it was strong enough to send him backward. Then he leapt into the air, somersaulting over the bulky Flesh Raider, slicing downward with his blade as he passed overhead.
The chieftain stood in place for a moment, seeming bewildered by what had just happened. Then he fell, his girth such that the ground actually shook around him.
Caecinius' lightsaber had split his head straight down the middle. Where the body lay, a gap was visible between the left and right halves of his head, the petals of a mountain flower oddly popping through the divide.
Having seen the fall of their leader, the other Flesh Raiders pulled back. Caecinius deactivated his lightsaber, confident that he would remain unmolested.
He proceeded to the cave. He could feel Bengel Morr's presence. He closed his eyes, again remembering their days at the Temple. Then the chaos of the assault. Bodies everywhere. Bodies with faces he recognized.
"What happened to you, old friend?" he whispered.
"The same thing that happened to all of us."
Caecinius froze. For an instant, he thought he had imagined the voice.
"Coruscant happened."
He turned. A hologram flickered before him. The same robed figure as in the holovid, only now the face was uncovered.
Bengel had aged far more than the twenty years that had passed since Caecinius had last seen him. The left half of the face was covered with burns, and his eyes blazed with barely suppressed fury. An expression entirely unlike any he had ever seen on his friend's face - But it was unmistakably Bengel.
"You're still like lightning with a lightsaber," Bengel observed. "You slaughtered my people."
Caecinius gathered himself, pushing his surprise to one side. He forced a grin.
"Well, they were stupid enough to attack me," he replied. "Why are you doing this, Bengel? How are you even alive?"
"I survived by becoming strong," his old friend replied. "The way you always were. As a youth, I valued scholarship over the martial arts. What a fool I was. You were the one who recognized the true nature of things."
Bengel drew in a breath.
"You killed my apprentice," he observed. "I can smell his death on you."
"He was threatening one of my students," Caecinius replied. "He was going to destroy the Great Forge."
Bengel laughed derisively.
"The Great Forge! A monument to superstition. For millennia, it was all but forgotten! But after the attack on our Temple, instead of responding to the Sith with force, the Jedi returned to this ruin of a world to lick their wounds and nurse their weakness. And then the 'Great Forge' is transformed into a shrine to self-importance!"
Caecinius approached Bengel's hologram slowly, as if trying to avoid spooking the other man.
"What is the point in this?" he asked. "Arming Flesh Raiders? Turning Nalen Raloch into a weapon against the Jedi? This isn't you, Bengel – You loved the Jedi!"
"There are no more Jedi!" Bengel snapped. "I am the only Jedi left in the galaxy!" He sneered. "I promise you this, old friend. By the time I am through, every so-called 'Jedi' on this planet will be dead!"
"So why not start with me?" Caecinius offered. "Come face me, Bengel. Or are you afraid?"
Bengel laughed. "I have things to do first, old friend. But fear not – I'll come to you in time." His lips set firmly. "And when I do, you'll find that I'm no longer a weakling scholar on a training ground!"
The transmission ended.
As it disappeared, Caecinius became aware of Master Bella Kiwiks and her padawan, Kira Carsen, watching him.
"He seems stable," Kira remarked.
Caecinius scowled.
"We never found him after Coruscant," he said. "That means the Empire probably had him as a prisoner. He probably endured years of torture."
He turned to Master Kiwiks.
"The Flesh Raider chieftain – When I faced him, he spoke. And used The Force. Crudely, but deliberately."
"Troubling," she said. "If the Flesh Raiders are being trained in The Force, it won't be on the side of light."
"You made short work of them," Kira observed. "You ever leave survivors?"
"Leaving an enemy alive invites a second attack," Caecinius replied.
"I must have missed that part of the Jedi Code."
Master Kiwiks cut them off before they had a chance to start a full argument.
"Master Orgus always said the natives were more advanced than we realized," she observed. "He was right."
"And now," Kira added, "they're learning to fight us."