The Lightsaber
Chapter 3
Jarlina blinked and shook her head. She picked up the cloth fragment and knelt by the weapon, cautiously lifting it wrapped in the cloth. She gingerly touched its surface with one finger. The blade felt cool though only seconds passed. Jarlina shrugged and decided the heat she felt existed only in her mind. She inspected the weapon for damage and returned it to her desk. She passed the scanner over it again and noticed a strange half-moon marking on the side. Someone worked very hard to erase the emblem and a region of the metal was scored deeply. She isolated the medium used to make the mark and selected a solvent to recover the design. The meaning of the design evaded Jarlina so she documented it and continued her restoration.
The blade saw darkness and evil as the trophy of a Sith.
The old Sith sits in his ebony throne and waits for his prey to find the trap. The underground chamber was once inhabited by the Natare-now it is lit with orbs of red fire. The tribal carvings on the walls have been burned away. The battle with his Master years ago left him scarred and cost him an arm, but the sacrifice is worth it. His master was too weak and now he wields ultimate power. Killing the old one was dissapointingly easy. He has many blades hanging from his belt, each one captured from a fallen Jedi. All of them are modified and converted to his Sith weapons. This one is stained with innocent blood of men, women, and children of all species. It no longer defends peace and justice.
He feels an old enemy approaching. He has waited for this day a long time. He can wait just a while longer.
The man enters the throne room of his enclave alone in a long, dark cloak. His blue eyes are calm and the Sith Lord can detect no trace of fear.
The Sith speaks in deep faintly accented tones. "I knew you would come to me. I have long awaited the arrival of my new apprentice."
The scarred creature rises and crosses to where the Jedi stands. The man's face is tan and lined by suffering. Unafraid, he stares into the eyes of the Sith lord. His gravelly, baritone voice is strong.
"I have returned, but not as your apprentice."
The Sithord's voice becomes menacing. "You try my patience. Why did you seek me out when you know you can never win. I could teach you so much more than the pathetic Jedi Order. I can give you unlimited power. Serve me and live."
"I'll never serve you! You have something that belongs to me. I've come for what's rightfully mine."
The Sith's lighsaber hums to life, pulsing between the two enemies.
"Choose your words carefully , as they will be your last."
The Sith launches toward him, shooting across the room. The Jedi's green blade meets the crimson one and he blocks the blow. The Sith attempts to force him backwards and aims a kick at his chin. The Jedi back flips out of range and the kick falls short. They exchange frenzied blows, faces lit eerily by the glow of lightsabers. The Jedi senses danger as the several of the orbs fly towards him. One narrowly misses his head and shatters on the wall, creating a blast of red fire that flares and dies. The Jedi pushes the other toward the Sith and it shatters between them, temporarily blinding both combatants.
The Sith uses the distraction to his advantage and rips stalactites from the ceiling. The Jedi reaches out with the force and slows their descent, sending most landing harmlessly at his feet. A smaller shard grazes his cheek, sending a trickle of warm blood down his neck. The Sith snarls, rage growing as the Jedi attacks with renewed strength, swiping at the Sith's thick legs. The Sith leaps over the blade and their blades lock, both men fighting for ground. The Sith Kicks out a booted foot and a sharp spike shoots out from the tip and stabs the Jedi in the abdomen, causing him to double over with the sudden pain. The Jedi uses a force push to hold the Sith at bay, struggling against sudden lightheadedness. He draws on the force to clear his mind and dull the pain. In a moment of clarity, he sees a weakness-an opening, but the Sith is already on his feet. The Sith's artificial left arm is stronger than a human limb, but it is also slower and cumbersome with its three clawed digits. He launches himself at the Sith with a burst of energy. The Sith kicks at his wounded side and narrowly misses. The Jedi, sensing his intention, sweeps the lightsaber in a daring feint and then drives the blade through The Sith's artificial arm, severing the limb. The Sith howls in anger and pain and the Jedi uses the moment to stab the Sith through the heart.
The Jedi, now an old man, sits alone in his quarters in the temple, holding his master's blade. Taking out his toolkit, he works to clean the weapon and etch the painted symbol of the Sith from the handle. It is hidden, but he knows it's still there beneath the varnish like a bloodstain. In a way, this is appropriate—a memory of the past—a memorial to the innocents whose lives were ended by the weapon.
He gives the weapon to his padawan. After his passing, his Padawan gives it to her Padawan and for many generations, the blade once again sees honor and glory.