Chapter 15 The Barrier
Present Time
Padme finished speaking with the team who had just reported in and then touched an area of the holographic map before her causing the area to darken. It had been over two hours since the start of the search and, though many sections of the city map were dark, there were still many to search, and they had yet to discover any sign of Melak and his extremist followers. She was clearly frustrated with their lack of success and showed it by plopping down in the nearest seat with a exasperated sigh, "They will find him, Milady." A voice said from the open hatchway.
Padme turned to see Captain Antilles leaning casually against the wall and smiled half-heartedly, "I know; I just wish I were out there with them rather than being stuck here." She replied.
"Well, it appears to me that you are exactly where you should be; they need someone to help them keep track of where they've searched." Raymus told her.
"I suppose." Padme admitted.
"Lady Skywalker, this is Gold Leader reporting in." A voice sounded over the comm.
"Yes, Cody, what have you found?" Padme responded hopefully.
"Unfortunately, nothing so far; sector 42B is clear." Cody answered.
Padme sighed as she touched that area of the map to darken it, "Very well, Cody; move on to..." She began and then referenced the holograph, "...To sector 48H."
"Sector 48H; will do, Milady." Cody confirmed.
Raymus Antilles smiled, "There, you see; exactly where you should be." He repeated.
Padme shook her head and returned the smile, "Point taken, Captain." She conceded.
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Goral Ansular pushed himself up from the chair with a heavy sigh feeling thirty years older than his thirty-two years. He had been in the war, he understood loss and death, but his Padawan's death seemed, to him, a senseless waste of life. He sighed again and shook his head; on further thought, the war itself, once Palpatine's identity had been discovered, was a senseless waste of life, and to a greater degree. Still, he was having difficulty dealing with Khyber's death, and was beginning to wonder if he would ever truly be at peace with it, "It is difficult, losing an apprentice." Mace stated from the open doorway.
Goral nodded, "Yes; I am afraid I am not dealing with it very well." He admitted, sighing once more.
"I do not believe there is a way to deal with it well, Goral." Mace replied, "And most certainly not when it happens like this."
"It tears at my heart, Master Windu." Goral confessed, "I can find no purpose to his death."
"The extremists wanted our younglings." Mace answered.
"At the cost of Khyber's life?" Goral questioned.
"At any cost; these fanatics have no concern for life." Mace concurred, "Master Horan and Khyber Raneau were killed trying to prevent the taking of the younglings; if you wish to find a purpose, that would be it."
"What a waste." Goral replied, shaking his head.
"You must not dwell on Khyber's death, Goral; focus on his life." Mace advised.
"He no longer has a life." Goral retorted, bitterness creeping into his tone.
"No, but he devoted his life to being a Jedi; and he died like a Jedi." Mace reminded him.
Goral huffed angrily, "He died trying to protect what should not have needed protecting; and because we were cut off by Master Skywalker's 'security measures' and unable to help him." He argued.
Mace Windu's face hardened into a scowl, "So you are blaming Khyber's death on Anakin now?"
"We were locked out." Goral answered, "And all because of some obscure dream."
"Anakin Skywalker does not have 'obscure dreams'; those security measures were put into place because what he envisioned could happen and we recognized the need to protect the younger Jedi." Mace countered, "We saw Anakin's nightmare as a warning of what could be possible; how can you blame him for that?"
The grieving master shook his head and turned away, "I don't know who I blame." He replied.
Mace laid his hand on the younger man's shoulder, "Blame the intruders, Goral." He said gently.
Goral nodded in agreement, "You are right, of course, Master Windu." He answered with a weary sigh, "I believe my grief has hampered my judgment; please forgive me."
Mace smiled, "Your grief is understandable; even the best of us are finding this difficult to deal with." He said, "However, we are Jedi, and we must look to the Force to guide us."
"Yes, the Force; and Khyber is one with it now. I just had not expected my Padawan to precede me there." Goral told him, sighing again and reaching for his cloak, "And now, I should go to him and stay until his spirit has been released."
"I will walk with you." Mace offered.
"No need, Master Windu." Goral replied.
"I have not yet paid my respects, Goral." Mace told him, "I wish to do so now."
Nine Hours After the Temple Assault
It is said that the Jedi do not feel; that they are emotionless, unnatural creatures who have hardened their hearts and trained themselves to feel nothing. But this perception would be wrong; and anyone who watched Khyber Raneau's master bearing the freshly polished boots and clean clothing to dress his fallen apprentice would readily attest to this. From his tear-reddened eyes and pale face to his tightly-clenched jaw and stiff posture, Goral Ansular was a picture of carefully controlled grief; clearly not an emotionless being. He entered the healers' sector where Khyber's body had been taken to prepare him for his final journey; the solitary Jedi present in the room bowed respectfully to Goral and then slipped out quietly to leave the master alone with his apprentice. Goral closed his eyes and inhaled deeply steeling himself for the grim task ahead. The Padawan had been stripped of his clothing, washed and his lower body covered with a sheet; the terrible wound on the young man's chest had been closed, leaving only an ugly scar to show what had caused a life to be cut short so abruptly. Gently, carefully, the master dressed the apprentice, concealing the damage; and then reverently rewove the Padawan braid, each bead a memory of their brief life together. He stayed for a few minutes more, smoothing out a wrinkle, adjusting the fit of the tunic, arranging the braid just so, before kissing his Padawan on the forehead; and then, with a heavy sigh, Goral patted Khyber's arm and slipped out. Returning to his quarters, numb with renewed grief, he nearly ran head on into another Jedi heading in the opposite direction, "My apologies my mind was..." Goral began and stopped short when he realized the Jedi was none other than Anakin Skywalker.
Anakin shook his head and tapped the Knight on the shoulder, "It's alright; my mind is not exactly here either." He replied.
Goral shrank back from the touch, "Don't touch me." He ordered.
"I'm sorry; have I offended you?" Anakin asked in confusion.
"Khyber Raneau was my apprentice." Goral answered bitterly.
"Oh...then you have my deepest sympathy, Master...Goral, is it?" Anakin replied, puzzled by his fellow Jedi's apparent anger with him.
Goral clenched his jaw, "Thank you." He said before swiftly moving back in the direction he was heading.
Anakin shook his head, this time in bewilderment and rubbed his forehead, "What was that about?" Obi-Wan asked, coming up behind him.
"He is very angry with me." Anakin answered.
"Well, he is...was Khyber's Master; grief affects everyone differently." Obi-Wan ventured.
"Yes, I understand that; but his anger was directed at me." Anakin countered, "It was my fault we were unable to reach the dormitory before his apprentice was killed; he knows that, and he blames me for Khyber's death."
Obi-Wan gripped Anakin's shoulder tightly, "This was not your fault, Anakin; they deciphered the security code and locked us out." He reminded his former apprentice and then shook his head, "Stop thinking like that; we all agreed those security measures were necessary. None of us could have guessed something like this would happen, even you are not all-seeing."
Anakin disagreed, but he nodded reluctantly and Obi-Wan sighed, "You will come to understand that I am right eventually, Padawan." He told the younger man.
A small smile flickered on Anakin's lips, "You usually are." He admitted.
"Well, some of the time, anyway." Obi-Wan corrected, "But we have a Council meeting to attend; we must discover who is behind this and where our missing Jedi are."
Present Time
Ferri reclined in one of the passenger compartment seats, as Zak carefully treated his wounded leg with bacta and rewrapped the bandage; then gently propped the leg up on the back of the seat ahead of him, "I don't think this is a good idea, Zak." Ferri said.
"We've talked about it already; we have to find out where we are." Zak replied as he stood up, "I won't go far, and I won't be gone long."
"I still don't like it." Ferri insisted, "Let me figure out how to get your collar off first."
"No time; we don't know how close to dark it is here." Zak countered.
"Zak, Zak, Zak; how many times have you told me not to..." Ferri began.
"I know, I know." Zak cut him off and then sighed, "Alright, how long will it take you?"
Ferri smiled, "Find me something that will fit into the lock." He answered, "Won't know until I try."
But ten minutes later, a click of the locking mechanism and Zak was holding the offending collar in his hand, "You're good, Ferri." He exclaimed as he felt the surge of the Force.
"I learned from the best." Ferri replied.
"Alright, your turn." Zak said, taking the 'tool' Ferri had used.
Just as Ferri had little trouble unlocking Zak's collar, so Ferri was soon free of his own encumbrance. He sighed and closed his eyes, "Good, now just calm your mind and..." Zak started.
"Yeah, yeah; just do your exploring and get back here. I still don't like the idea of you being out there by yourself." Ferri murmured.
"I won't be gone long." Zak assured them, "Shel, make sure no one leaves the ship; you keep them occupied and let Ferri concentrate on healing himself."
"I can do both, you know." Ferri retorted.
"Yeah, yeah."
"Not too long, Zak." Ferri reminded him.
"Not too long, I promise." Zak echoed as he manually triggered the shuttle hatch, "Close the door after me."
Warily, Zak stepped out, glancing around and then closing his eyes to connect with the Force. Reaching out, he could detect lower life forms, insects, slitherers, mammals and a plethora of bird life. But there was something odd, something he could not quite grasp; concentrating a little more, he reached out further and hit...a barrier that he could not penetrate. He understood the way the ysalamiri created a bubble which the Force could not penetrate, but this seemed to be something preventing the Force from either escaping or shielding it from...from what? In all his travels with his master, he had never encountered anything like this, and so he could draw no conclusions as to its nature. Whether it was natural occurring or artificially manufactured he could not guess; but if it had been manufactured, that would mean they may not be alone here. And that in itself was worrisome because they had no way of knowing whether these beings might be hostile. Taking a deep breath and licking his lips, he forged ahead cautiously.
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They watched the stranger from a distant hillock as he hiked the area around the craft that had plunged into The Mound. Seldom did they have visitors drop from the sky; and none of them could ever remember any of them hitting The Mound. It was puzzling, and the watchers decided to return to the lodge and report their discovery to the Elders. Leaving one to continue watching, the other three made the trip back.
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The hairs on the back of Zak's necked prickled with the sensation of being watched. Turning, he scanned the hillsides, reaching out in an attempt to sense whatever, whoever, was watching him; but the barrier seemed to shift, and the attempt failed, "Alright, I can play your game." He mumbled to himself, and headed toward the place where the shift had occurred.
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"Oh...no...this cannot be." The watcher whispered as he observed the stranger turn toward him, "What to do?"
His dark eyes shifting back and forth, the watcher ran a hand through his shaggy black mane, "This one cannot find us...no, no, no."
Closing his eyes, he pulled the Power to him, gathering it up and drawing from it; when he opened his eyes, the stranger was lying flat on his back, unmoving. The watcher shook his head and several of his comrades joined him. A female with a mane of long gray hair moved forward to touch the stranger and then turned back to the watcher, "You have erred, Evicta." She said.
"He could not find us, Li; I knew not what else to do." The one called Evicta answered.
Li shook her head, "And if he is not alone? Others may seek for him." She replied.
"Then we leave him; so that his others may find what they seek." Another suggested, "And if there are none, then he will return to his craft when he revives."
"And if the growlers come? Would you subject him to such a cruel fate, Tarka?" Li questioned.
"He intruded; he invaded The Mound." Tarka argued.
"You saw the fall, Tarka; we all observed it. It did not appear he did so purposely." Li countered, "I would wish to converse with him."
"You cannot mean to bring him to our lodge? I believe that would be foolish beyond measure." Yet one more interjected.
"Touch him, Geon; he bears the Power." Li informed her.
"Then he is like us? How can that be?" Geon wondered as she touched the side of the stranger's face, "How can that be?"
"That is why we must converse." Li answered, "Bring him, Tarka."
The one called Tarka nodded obediently and lifted the stranger to his shoulders, then followed his companions down the other side of the hillock, away from the mound and the craft lodged in it.