5. The Doings of Men
Bao-Dur tried to distance himself as much as possible from their Mandalorian escort, a comic effort in the tight fit of the speeder. Disciple stayed quiet the entire ride, perhaps daydreaming, perhaps practicing with the Force, perhaps both if it had something to do with Quinly. Atton himself stopped being aware of her just after the Basilisk broke the Dxun atmosphere, and the echo of exhilaration faded from his mind. Mandalorians were men at the most primal level, so the Basilisk was fast and powerful above and beyond the actual need. Unless the need is to learn if my girl has a shred of heart left.
"Say, Xarga, are there she-Mandalorians? Or do you boys hatch out just like that?"Atton asked their guide lazily. The Mandalorian guffawed through the grill of his helmet: "We have women, worry not." "What, they are funny women?" Mandalorian revved the engine, and weaved the flyer through a miniscule gap between an enormous tree trunk and a sheer cliff: "Nah. The kind that give birth to real men. No need for us to dress pretty boys in skirts."
Atton wished that black-robed Disciple did not choose that particular moment to smile dreamily at something far-far away. Or only as far away as Onderon? Be it as it may, Atton played pazaak in his head while Dxun's vistas fell away to the either side of him until the speeder came to an abrupt stop at the mouth of a narrow gorge.
Bao-Dur took a careful look down the path and said under his breath: "Mines." Their Mandalorian guide nodded: "Aye. And past the minefield there is a perimeter defense sensor. The Sith are well aware of this path." He looked up at Atton, and one didn't need the Force to sense that the Mandalorian was preparing to amuse himself watching the Jedi shoulder a man's task. "So, careful of this one's dress, is what I am saying." Atton muttered: "Don't you worry. He's more furious in skirts than ten of you in amour." Bao-Dur cocked a brow at him. Yes, yes, I am sticking up for the boy. Live with that.
"What is going on?" Disciple inquired curiously breaking his reverie and looking from Atton to the Mandalorian. About time too. "Nothing," Atton barked, "Bao-Dur is going to pick us some mines and knock out a sensor. Then we roll in." Bao-Dur slipped into the shadows and dampness between the rocks. He re-emerged after a few dragging minutes, and said quietly: "You will need to follow me. I will not be able to knock the sensor before it alerts the closest sentries. Step where I step." They did. The fight came as a relief, actually. Still, the place was narrow, and their movements had to be economical, lest they slice a piece of one another. Disciple's smile still etched in his memory, he was sorely tempted, but restrained himself. It was a relief to hear a hiss and a quiet pop when the sensor went off. Atton rushed a dark-clothed man that was angling to behead Bao-Dur, and they were through.
He blinked tears away: the light was fiercely bright, as if the sun gave up on trying to penetrate the leafy thickness of the jungle, and instead focused all its energies on the clearing. Atton shielded his eyes, and finally spotted the Sith ship, shining at triple-strength, and further out - a large pyramid of some dark stone. It emerged menacingly from the hurriedly hacked away greenery. The Sith openly patrolled its top, clearly aware of the advantages of their position. It was highly defensible, and Atton hated the idea of running up that ramp, through the cross-fire from the men, droid and turrets. Was three enough for even one of them to make it to the top and secure the entrance? "Let's take cover," Atton nodded toward the cruiser.
They made their advance, staying to the shadows and rock, and knocked out the guards by the ship. Pure Pazaak. Bao-Dur spotted another control centre and mashed the buttons. "Tell me it's good news, Bao-Dur," Atton called to him. The Iridonian nodded: "Turrets are down, Captain."
"Well then, the first one to the top is the man."
Disciple flashed him a hotter look than the Jedi code surely allowed, blew a picturesque lock out of his eyes and raced onward, lighting both lightsabers. "I wish you two stopped being so human," Bao-Dur sighed and took off at a more reasonable trot, watching the young man's back, whispering a chant. Or cursing under his breath. For all Atton knew Zabracks delivered death threats in a dulcet tone.
In the end there was no saying who got where first and when. They ended up standing giddily at the top, sunlit and alive. They laughed a little. Howled, maybe. Atton went as far as clapping Disciple on the shoulder, and Disciple, clapped him right back. Then the moment of victory's passed. Atton stared into the darkness of the tomb, a black hole in the brightness of the day. Dark in the other ways as well. "Now is as good time as any," he muttered, and let the lightsaber out again. He needed it to light his way. Unbidden, Quinly's words about the tests swam up in his mind. He pushed them back. By the Jedi's code, he was as near to hopeless as it gets. But Quinly asked him to stop whatever was going on in this tomb, and he shall do just that.
Encountering some resistance, Atton and his companions made their way down a long straight passage towards the heart of the pyramid. It was too easy, Atton thought, nothing like the desperate fight to gain the entry. It soon became apparent why: an oscillating purple field covered the entry to the burial chamber. The defenders must have holed up inside, confident that none should pass. Bao-Dur tried his old trick to disturb the field with the pulsating energy of his mechanical arm. No use. It was also lightsaber-proof, no doubt warding off the Sith would-be looters.
"We need to find a switch," Bao-Dur said. Atton nodded and pointed to a side-passage: "Let's try that. Looks like a service tunnel to me, let's hope it leads us to the mechanical room." The service area was nearly deserted. It was clear that the job of guarding the switchboard fell to the lowest of the low. In the end of the tunnel was a fairly large room, crammed with tech. "Just you look at that!" Bao-Dur gasped in a rare show of excitement. That was a monstrous computer panel looking sufficiently ancient to remember the first Sith Emperors. It was well cleaned, and buzzing with light.
"Aha," said Bao-Dur, "it looks like the Sith left it to run a simulation of some sort."
"Can you shut down the field?" Atton asked impatiently.
"Aye," Bao-Dur replied, his eyes still browsing the screen, "but we might as well rip the rewards here. The simulation is done, and by the look of it, it converged. Now I just need to… yes." A faint click followed his words, and hatch opened in the wall, revealing a set of robes. Bao-Dur laughed: "A tech had a sense of humor to seal his own prized possession in the tomb". "The field?" Atton interrupted impatiently. "All done," Bao-Dur replied.
Atton turned to go, but he felt drawn to the robes. Against his better judgment, he pulled it out of its niche. It was dark green and grey, and rough to the touch. The passage of time didn't eat away at the fabric or the touch of the Force. Atton remembered the feeling of being one with the lightsaber the other day, without the armor being in the way, and cringed.
"Atton, are you coming?" Disciple called from the darkness of the service tunnel.
A man must do what he has to do. With a resigned sigh Atton shrugged out of the shell of his armor and pulled the robes on. Then he raced after Bao-Dur and Disciple. "Not a word," he warned them, as the three of them got into the antechamber from the service tunnel. The entrance was no longer lit by the purple light. They stepped through and came face to face with the waiting Sith.
The silence in the burial chamber was complete and menacing. A tall, dark-clad man lit up a red lightsaber and stared down at them.
"You cannot hope to stop us," the Sith said. "And why? You think you are strong in the Forcce-"
"Glad you've noticed," Atton called back at him.
"But if you shall join in our ritual, you could grow far beyond what you can imagine," the Sith said.
"Are you sure? I have a vivid imagination," Atton responded.
"The power of the Dark Side is immense," the Sith taunted, "Join us while you can. I will not offer again."
How different are we, really? Atton thought for a mad moment. All men, all armed with something we cannot fully comprehend, all spilling our blood for one leader or another.
"You are wrong!" the young, brave voice cut in, and bounced echoing off the gloom walls. "The Light Side is the stronger. Repent, come with us to the light, and you shall find out for yourself."
Her most beloved student…
The Sith laughed heartily: "Fool. The Dark Side-"
It did feel good that someone else was called a fool for a change.
"Enough of this," Atton yelled, growing weary with the pointlessness of it. "Your side is stronger, my side is stronger… that's good for children. Let's do it in a men's way. See who has a bigger lightsaber."
"Lightsaber, Atton, really?" Bao-Dur chuckled behind him, amused.
The carnage that followed was apparently enough to satisfy Xarga. They've just jumped out of the speeder by the Ebon Hawk, when he turned it around in a tight curve, splattering them with dirt and grass, and yelled over the engine's roar: "Fought like Mandalorians, aye." Atton had to hold Bao-Dur back bodily: the Iridonian apparently did not take this as a compliment.
Atton stretched himself in the shade below the Ebon Hawk intent on doing nothing for the rest of the day. A man deserves an afternoon nap, after a job well-done. He wouldn't fall asleep though. Truth be told, he would have been much more comfortable on his bunk, not on the eternally dump jungle soil. Yet he stayed. For one, they left him alone. For another-
The rumble of the ship did not sound like the fiery roar of the Basilisk. It was a pretty cruiser that dropped off near them. Atton lifted himself on one elbow and watched the old witch; the blind witch and that damn woman disembark and head for the Hawk.
Quinly fell back, slowed her steps and bent over to look at him. "Hello, Quinly," he called, climbed from his shelter, stood for a moment to stretched his stiffening back. Jedi don't catch a chill. She scrutinized him without saying a word.
"So, how was your vacation on Onderon?" he asked conversationally.
"Queen Talia now rules unopposed," Quinly replied softly.
"That's all you have to say? No mention of all those troops loyal to Tobin you had to vanquish? The three of you?" Atton laughed.
Quinly waved her fingers in the air: "The Jedi are not to be underestimated. There is peace on Onderon."
That's not how he'd imagined her coming back in the shadows under the Ebon Hawk pressing his forehead against the hot damp soil of Dxun. Why in blazes he'd imagined her tired and more pliable? Hurting maybe, needing a strong- A fool after all. "Well, thank you for the political update then."
Quinly straightened the collar of the robes for him, light fingers running the length of his shoulder, stopping at his neck. "Green is a good color on you."
His best guess was that it meant that he'd passed his test.