Welcome back, everyone! Hope everyone's doing well, and I also hope you're all enjoying the new Obi-Wan Kenobi series over on Disney+; I know I sure am. So, here's the next chapter, but as you read, I'd like to ask one thing; would you like to see this story eventually merge into official Star Wars canon, or would you rather see me rewrite the canon of the Original and Sequel trilogies? Please, feel free to leave me a review answering this question.


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Chapter VII: The Spring of Peace

Location: Aldera, Alderaan (14 BBY)

Of the planets he'd visited in his short life, the red-haired Jedi Knight would, he knew, forever admit that none of them could possibly rival the natural beauty of Alderaan. A planet that seemed so far removed from the troubles of the greater galaxy, it felt as though it was beckoning him home. It was, he felt, as though he might be returning to world he'd been born on.

Before his life as a Jedi had begun.

Could such a person have even existed?

As the Mantis descended towards its landing pad, Cal fought the urge to turn and look at the pale-skinned woman sitting behind him. He knew she was also enjoying the sight of Aldera as it rushed up at them so alien from the worlds she'd thus far visited. The barren wastes of Dathomir. The lush forests of Kashyyyk. The great mountains of Zeffo. The vast plains of Bogano. The frozen heights of Illum. The endless oceans of Nur. Yes. This, Cal knew, was unlike anything that Merrin had ever seen before.

"I did not know that such peace was possible." She confessed in a rare moment.

"Alderaan has been a beacon of peace and democracy for millennia." Cere explained. "Master Cordova often referred to it as 'The Eternal Spring of Peace'. He felt that it would have made a much better home for the Jedi Temple than Coruscant."

"I think he may have been right." Cal answered, unable to help himself. It was, after all, true. For but the briefest of moments, the Clone Wars may never have happened. Surely, his mind suggested, that had just been a frightful story of eons past, relayed by Master Yoda, of the days before the Republic had brought peace to the galaxy.

Wasn't it?

The planet seemed to be as elegant and modern as Coruscant had been, but with none of the feeling of corruption, of despair, that he'd so often sensed in the capital of the galactic government.

"And I bet they don't have any good casinos here, either." Greez mumbled sourly. "A planet this beautiful, you'd think they'd know how to have a good time."

"A planet this beautiful doesn't need a casino." Cal interjected, dismissing his short friend's dismal complaints. His smile, however, slowly began to fade as it dipped into a near-invisible frown, one no one could see.

No.

Not "no one".

"Something is the matter, Cal?"

Once again, Merrin had seemed to pick up on his thoughts.

"It's—something feels off. Wrong."

"I do not sense anything."

"Neither do I, Cal." Cere added. "What is it?"

"It's not—it's not the Force." He explained, sounding almost defensive. "It's-experience."

"Experience?" She asked, arching an eyebrow. Cal, in turn, nodded.

"Alderaan was a founding member of the Republic, wasn't it?" He asked. "And it's one of the most important of the Core Worlds."

"So?"

"So—there's no noticeable Imperial presence." He answered. "We're almost at the spaceport, yet I've not seen the first TIE Fighter or Star Destroyer."

"Hey, the kid's right." This, now, came from Greez even as BD-1 warbled a worried tone of agreement. "Now that I think about it, I don't remember even seeing a single cruiser as we entered orbit."

"This is a bad thing?" Merrin asked. "I would think the absence of our enemies would be a positive turn of events."

"Usually, I'd agree." Cal answered. "But I can't see the Empire letting Alderaan off without at least a garrison."

"Perhaps."

"Cere?"

"I—there were stories, Cal, towards the end of the War."

"What stories?"

"Do you remember hearing about the Petition of Two Thousand?"

"Vaguely." He nearly lied. The name, though somewhat familiar, held no corporeal meaning for him.

"It was a petition signed by two thousand Senators in protest of the Chancellor and the changes he'd made to the Galactic Constitution."

"Right." Cal replied as a brief flicker of memory ignited within his mind. "Because of his Emergency Powers."

Cere nodded. "The list of those who signed it was never made public, but it's believed Bail Organa may have been one of them, along with the other important members of the Senate. Including," She added, her voice barely dropping in volume. "The Senator from Palpatine's homeworld."

"But if Senator Organa signed this Petition of Two Thousand, wouldn't that make him an enemy of the Emperor's?"

"Perhaps." She repeated. "Or, perhaps Palpatine recognized the truth; even with his accumulated power, maintaining control over thousands of star systems isn't easy."

"Which is why he left the Senate intact."

"Exactly. Bail Organa is one of the most senior members of the Imperial Senate; if Emperor Palpatine tried to arrest him, or saw to it that he 'disappeared', he would risk open rebellion at the height of his government, the kind of rebellion that would be difficult to quell."

"So, by leaving Alderaan alone, he gives Senator Organa less reason to cause trouble in the Senate. Makes sense."

The ship momentarily shuddered as the Mantis's landing struts made contact with the permacrete surface of the landing pad to which they'd been assigned. With the ship now secure from transit, Cal made to stand up while BD-1 took its usual spot on his shoulder. As usual, he was donning his black-and-blue poncho over his jumpsuit, his lightsaber hidden from even the most observant of eyes. The crimson-and-white droid beeped excitedly as Cal led Merrin and Cere towards the landing ramp.

"Be careful out there, you two."

"I—wait, Cere, you're not coming with us?"

She shook her head. "I'll be there if you need me, Cal, but—I still need time."

Though she didn't elaborate on those words, there nonetheless existed a spark of understanding between the two. He knew, perhaps too well, how she was feeling. She'd spent so long cut off from the Force only to then tap into its awesome powers during what may well have been the most trying moment of her life. He'd seen how close she'd come into giving in completely, and he knew it still haunted.

"Perhaps it's for the best, kid; two of you would blend in better than three of you."

"Besides," Cere added with a menacing glare towards the ship's captain. "Someone needs to stay here and make sure Greez doesn't gamble away all of our credits."

"Hey, I'm good, I swear. I—"

"May the Force be with you, Cal." Cere interjected as they reached the landing ramp.

"May the Force be with you, too, Cere."

And with a final glance between the two, Cal turned and led Merrin from the Mantis and into their next great adventure.

Immediately, he found himself surprised. Though there had been no Imperial ships in orbit above Alderaan, and despite the lack of TIE Fighters moving to escort them in with menacing reason, he had, nonetheless, expected plenty of Stormtroopers to be patrolling the spaceport. However, beyond only the occasional glint of white armor, there were nearly no signs of the Empire at all.

"Oh, I daresay—greetings, Councilor Tavos, Lady Rynol." The mechanical voice, as it soon became apparent, was issuing from a gold-plated protocol droid hurriedly approaching them. "I am C-3PO, Human-Cyborg Relations. I apologize for the most heinous lack of parade for your arrival, as befits your station, but I am afraid the royal staff is quite busy preparing for the Grand Ball."

"What is this Grand Ball you speak of, droid?" Merrin asked.

"Why, the ball to celebrate the birth of the Princess Leia of House Organa, of course; the reason for your attendance—"

"Forgive her, C-3PO." Cal interjected, quick to avoid any issues that might jeopardize their cover identities. "She's just woken up, still weary from our journey."

"Oh, why that's quite alright, Councilor Tavos. Senator Organa wishes for me to advise you that your formal wear is waiting for you in your quarters, and he assures you that they have been tailored to your sizes."

"I—"

"The Senator also commanded that I am to escort you directly to him in his personal chambers. Why, he seemed quite intent on having a private word with you before the ball tomorrow evening. Such a deviance from protocol, I know, but who am I to argue? I'm merely a protocol droid, after all."

If Cal didn't know better, he'd swear that the next to last word had been drenched in sarcasm. However, he ignored it, instead focusing on something else.

Asher had told him nothing about attending a Grand Ball, nor had he mentioned the need for formal wear. Though she said nothing, Cal knew as he exchanged glances with Merrin that she was now beginning to have the same misgivings.

Approaching a parked speeder with but a driver as its occupant, Cal decided—for the moment—to ignore those misgivings. He'd felt no sign of deceit from Asher and Tali.

"Yet," A voice whispered in his mind, its tone extremely reminiscent of Merrin's. "You also felt no sign of their presence until it was too late."

As C-3PO ushered them into the waiting speeder, Cal took his seat and then closed his eyes, allowing his senses to take over, now. There was—something. He wasn't sure what it was, precisely, but it was there, just beyond the horizon.

Cal now allowed all of his concerns and worries to melt away. For this moment, there was no pending meeting with Bail Organa. There were no Inquisitorious, no Sith. No Jedi.

He could now see a flat stretch of dull green land that stretched for as far as the eye could see. In the far distance, breaking into the low bank of dark-grey clouds through which the occasional ray of sunlight would cut, were great mountains.

There was also a storm. Though not quite visible from the other side of those mountains, he could hear the low rumbles of thunder in the distance. He didn't know how he knew it, but the storm was moving towards him.

He spun about on his heels, his hands reaching for the lightsaber hanging at his waist. Yet, he soon recognized the unsolicited visitor. At less than a meter in height, the diminutive figure was made of skin that was akin to green leather. Any living Jedi survivor would recognize the Grand Master of the Fallen Order, yet Cal could not overcome the surprise that had commandeered his body.

"Complete, your training may be, young Kestis." Yoda spoke, his voice gentle as ever. "Yet, much to learn, you still have."

"M-Master?"

"Ahead of you, dark times are. Soon, choose, you must, between that which is right, and that which is easy. Then, and only then, a true Jedi will you be."

"Master Yoda?" He asked as he regained his composure and forced the words out of his mouth. "What do—"

"Ahead of you, dark times are." Yoda repeated, as though he hadn't heard Cal speaking. "Remember; alone, you are not. Survived, others have; know this, you do."

"I—"

"Pass on all that you have learned. Rise, A New Hope will. Help, she will need."

"You—you want me to take a Padawan? Now?"

Yoda spoke not, but tilted his head, as though studying the much taller red-haired Jedi. It wasn't the first time that Cal had been given the feeling that someone immensely more powerful than him was seeing inside of his soul, but never had the feeling been so intense.

"Master, how do you expect me to take a Padawan?" Cal asked, pushing the subject. "I destroyed the list—"

"Hmmm. Looking, again, to the horizon, you are. Not your mind here, now, on where you are."

"Master?"

"Already have that, all which you need. Where you are needed, you are. Reach the horizon, you cannot, without first acknowledging where you are. Only after the present does the future come."

A great flash of lightning illuminated the land with such brightness that Cal found himself momentarily blinded. When he opened his eyes—

The speeder was now soaring low through the air, leaving the royal spaceport far behind them, and Cal Kestis was again—

No.

As he felt Merrin sitting in silence next to him, he remembered Yoda's words. He wasn't alone. Yet, that brought him little comfort as his mind continued mulling over one question:

Who had Yoda meant by "she"? Was it, perhaps, a hint as to who the ancient Jedi Master wanted him to take as his Padawan, or was it something—more?

Even with no clouds in the sky, Cal was sure he could hear a clap of thunder in the far distance.


In the space high above Alderaan, there was no one to pay witness as the aging V-Wing fighter emerged from Hyperspace. A relic from an era long-since dead, anyone who did see it would pay it absolutely no attention.

Trilla Suduri, formerly the Second Sister, was quite accepting of this fact. Indeed, she knew it was best, for everyone, if no one paid her any attention.

As the V-Wing began its descent for the planet ahead, however, that thought was about the only thing coherent in her mind. Her hands still gripped the control yoke as she glanced down at the black medical gown she'd not bothered to change from. Even with the gap between her breasts, she could not see the wound immediately, yet she could still feel its presence, a memory that would never fade.

Cere stood before her, her lost lightsaber securely in her old master's hands. The woman she'd once loved like a mother now looked much older than the few years that had separated them with such distance.

"It's over, Trilla."

"Nothing is ever truly over." Trilla had responded, so angry, so furious.

"This fight is over." Had been her master's response. "I know the darkness that is eating you up inside, and every day we choose to either feed it, or fight it."

"It's too late, Cere!"

"No. It's not." Cere had seemed so certain, so convinced, of her words. "I know the choices that I made took all your choices away, and I have failed you, Trilla." Cere had dropped to her knees, then, like a mother ready to embrace her wayward child. "I failed you, and I am so very sorry."

Trilla had looked away then, as that final word had shattered the resolve of months—even years—of Imperial torture. That word had done what Jedi and rebels alike had failed to do. That word, so simple, so singular, had burnt away the strength of the Second Sister, killing her with the fire of a hundred lightsabers. In that moment, she was the same little girl who'd sat in that cave, watching her master leave for what would be the final time. In that moment, Trilla had wanted nothing more than to hug her master again, to apologize for all the pain that she'd caused. The hum of Cal Kestis's sapphire lightsaber seemed, now, to guide her forward, to burn away the darkness as though showing her the way home.

Still sporting the wounds the young Jedi had inflicted upon her during this most recent encounter, Trilla had climbed to her feet, nearly staggering in the process. She could now see the blue blade of Cal's lightsaber, and yes! It was beckoning her home! Just a step, just a single—

And then she'd gone suddenly cold. A darkness had then swept over them all, extinguishing all hope and joy from the universe, leaving but despair and sorrow in its wake. The Force itself had grown impossibly dark, flooding her every sense with fear. Anger. Hate.

Suffering.

It was the dark presence she knew well. She needn't hear the raspy, mechanical breathing behind her as a cold fog began to invade the room. She knew what—who—it was.

"I've carried so much hate for you." She'd explained as Cal shut off his saber, declaring to herself that she would not waste her final moments. Her heart began to beat impossibly fast as she heard his heavy boots landing mere meters behind her. Suddenly, she could not find any additional words to voice her thoughts, to voice her apology. Catching Cere's eyes, she hoped, with every fiber of her being, that those seven words would be enough.

"That doesn't look good." Cal commented, and even with their deaths only seconds away, part of Trilla found herself amused, admiring his usual banter.

"It isn't." Cere commented simply. A heavy thud echoed throughout the room as a great form landed directly behind her. Both Cal and Cere stepped back, sapphire and ruby blades springing to life in perfect unison.

Trilla, now, composed herself, drawing herself up to her full height. Words spoken by a diminuitive Jedi Master, his skin green leather, echoed through her mind now.

"A natural part of life is death. Rejoice for those who transform into the Force. Mourn them do not, miss them do not. Always prepared to accept her death, a true Jedi is. Fear it, she does not. Run from it, she does not."

Even as the Second Sister made one last bid to return from defeat, Trilla Suduri calmed her beating heart. She would not fear her death. She would accept it.

She was a Jedi.

"You have failed me, Inquisitor." Darth Vader's voice was as cold, uncaring, and unforgiving as his presence.

Trilla Suduri knew this.

The Second Sister knew this.

Snap-Hiss.

"Avenge us!" She exclaimed, knowing that the Dark Lord would do just that, avenging the loss of both herself and the Ninth Sister, slain on Kashyyyk by the very Jedi who'd defeated her.

In the cockpit of the one-time Republic starfighter, Trilla had not realized she'd closed her eyes, nor could she recall clinching her fists.

She could still feel the fire of Vader's blade down her back and abdomen. She'd accepted her death, even if she'd been unable to stop the Second Sister from uttering a final request of the Sith Lord. She had been prepared to die the death of a Jedi Knight.

Why, then, had she survived?

"Such a foolish little Jedi." The Second Sister sneered in the back of her mind. "You know the truth; you're just too frightened, too naïve, to admit it."

She could sense—something. Distant. For a moment, then, Trilla was quite certain she'd heard a clap of thunder coming from somewhere far off, somewhere—somewhere…

Her mind was now such a jumble of thoughts and emotions that even the Force itself had grown distant, as though coming to her from a partially-collapsed tunnel. She—help—

No.

She needed time. Space.

Switching off her comms unit as the first of Aldera Spaceport's hails reached her, Trilla instead did the one thing she could think of. She coaxed all power to her engines and began a hard burn for the far side of the planet.

She needed space, and time, to clear her mind and settle on her next course of action. She had no idea why she'd programmed the coordinates for Alderaan into the navi-computer during her flight from Coruscant, but she would now take full advantage of the planet's relaxed security and non-existent military. The mountains of Alderaan would make an acceptable place to hide while she planned her next move.


On any other planet, the golden walls now surrounding him would appear arrogant and egotistical. Yet, the people of Alderaan had seemed to make it seem acceptable, almost natural, even. The same could be said, he realized, of the rooms curved walls and arches, and that there were four great balconies overlooking the distant mountain range only served to enhance the royal palace's beautiful architecture.

The room's sole occupant was a powerfully-built man well in the later stages of his middle years. His sleek hair had kept most of its natural black color, but the edges and tips, like much of the mustache and goatee on his face, were now well grey and white. Even with the growing lines on his face, however, he remained the very image of elegance and class.

Cal immediately knew this was Senator Bail Organa.

"Senator." Cal greeted with a customary bow.

"My friend, come in. Come in." He ushered as he turned to a blue-domed astromech droid. The droid beeped and whistled excitedly as it rolled forward to join its master.

"Excellent. Thank you, R2." He then turned to C-3PO. "Threepio, would you make sure Leia makes it to her lesson for me?"

"Why, I would be honored, Master Organa—"

"And Threepio?"

"I—yes, Senator?"

"Don't let her out of your sight this time."

"Of course not, Senator."

No one spoke as the golden protocol droid made to exit the chambers. Once he was gone, however, Bail Organa motioned Cal and Merrin to join him at the holoprojector on the far side of the room.

"My office is—for the moment—as secure as any place on Alderaan, though I do not expect it to remain so, I'm afraid." He explained.

"You—you know who we are?" Cal asked. Bail, in turn, nodded.

"And what you are, yes."

"I—"

"You may relax, Cal." Bail interjected. "I'm an old friend to the Order; there are those of us who desire the Return of the Jedi."

"Are you sure?" He almost snorted as he asked the question. "I've not exactly had the warmest reception since leaving Bracca."

"Yes, well, there are those who would be threatened by a return to democracy and justice." Bail explained. "Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Tell me, Cal—is it true you defeated Darth Vader?"

"Defeated, no." Cal confessed. "Survived—barely, and only because of my friends."

"I see."

For moments, Bail said nothing, but instead seemed to stare off into space. The briefest moment of fear and concern crossed his face, but it was so fleeting that when Cal blinked it may well never have been there.

"I am curious." Merrin questioned. "How did you know of Cal's fight with this 'Darth Vader'? This Empire of yours would do all it could to keep those events secret, no?"

"Oh yes." Bail answered with a chuckle. "But the harder they try to hide their secrets, the more people seem to discover them. Not everyone supports the Empire; there are those of us working, behind the scenes, to slow its growth, perhaps even reverse it."

"You're planning a rebellion." Cal observed as the surety of it sank in.

"There are those who want to initiate open rebellion." He agreed, surprising the Jedi with his honesty and candor. "Of course, there are also those of us determined to achieve it through peace and diplomacy."

"Peace and diplomacy?" Merrin asked, sounding nearly flabbergasted. "Is such a thing even possible? After all, this Empire has not appeared too willing to talk and debate."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not." Bail confessed. "But there's been enough warfare and death; we owe it to the galaxy to try."

"I was told," Cal answered, recognizing that they had limited time and wanting to waste none of it. "That you might have more information on a set of coordinates."

"Yes, of course." Bail answered, now working the controls of the holo-terminal. "Your friends gave me a copy of the coordinates, and I'm glad they did."

"Why?"

In answer, the image of a grand mansion appeared, rising between great mountains. Before it lie a great, nearly empty field bisected by a small stream, itself fed by a proud, thundering waterfall.

"This estate has been entrusted to House Organa for millennia, since the days of the Old Republic. While most of our information on it has been lost over the years, one piece of knowledge remains."

"And what's that?" Cal asked.

"That it was once owned by a powerful Jedi Master, a member of the Jedi Council."

Cal couldn't resist the frown on his face. Aside from their lightsaber and a few trivial items, Jedi had no private possessions. They had no family beyond the Order itself, and they held no private property—even their ships were, typically, the property of the Order itself. Why, then, had a Jedi Master, a member of the Council, no less, owned such a sprawling—and expensive—estate?

Had the Order really changed so much from its ancient roots?

"What's there?"

"We don't know, Cal." Bail confessed. "The airspace has been restricted for millennia; it's not even listed on any of the planet's official maps. It's almost as though—"

"Someone is hiding something." Merrin concluded.

"Just so, yes."

"Well, there's only one way to find out." Cal concluded matter-of-factly. "Senator Organa, do y—"

"My personal speeder is waiting for you downstairs." Bail answered immediately. "It's yours for as long as you need it, my friend."

Cal nodded his thanks. Time, he decided, to se what the ancient Jedi had left buried in the mountains of Alderaan. On his shoulder, BD-1 beeped a wary, almost exhausted, tone.

"Don't worry, buddy." Cal asked before he could catch his tongue and hold it fast. "What's the worst that can happen?"


What's the worst that can happen, he asks. MUWAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Seriously, though, what'd you think? Feel free to leave me a review, and don't forget to tell me if you'd rather see me merge into official Original and Sequel Trilogy canon with this story or see me re-write the Original and Sequel Trilogies with this story and its coming sequels.