Jedi Temple

Galen Zaun was marching down the halls of the temple, eyes down cast, thinking of his proposal that he was about to make. He had talked with his son a lot over the last couple of months since the battle, and knew that John was depressed, lost, feeling anxious to get on with his life.

But the Order was preoccupied with what they saw as a growing crisis. They were busy worrying about that and not assigning Knights to any new Padawans, or conducting Knighting ceremonies for that matter.

He had spent a lot of time here and was anxious, anxious to get on the road again, to have missions again, maybe get back to Corellia or Tatooine for that matter. It had been awhile.

But there was two last pieces of business to attend to.

He had called a meeting of the Jedi Council for his purposes two hours ago. But the Jedi Masters that made up the council, despite them having nothing to do, felt that the Republic might spin off into the abyss if they were not watching intelligence reports to act instantly to a crisis. The loss of Master Windsword had shaken the Council to the core, and many of them were looking for something akin to Jedi retribution. As complicated a subject as any in the Jedi order.

But they finally granted him their council, and he was on the way to meet his Padawan and then go down.

Death was leaning against a pillar and turned to meet Galen as the latter rounded the corner. "Master." Death bowed low.

"Death." Galen smiled at his Padawan in greeting, inclining his head.

"I just heard that the Council has called the two of us to a council meeting. Have any idea what it is about?" Death inquired of his master, genuinely curious.

Galen smirked, and then nodded. "Actually it was I who requested that the Jedi Council meet with us."

Death fell in with his Master as Galen continued to walk. "But why Master?" He asked.

Galen paused for a second and then looked at his Padawan curiously, a cloud of doubt passing over his heart and his mind, making him wonder at his current course of action. "Patience might be the key to this day, my young Padawan." Galen continued on his way. He could feel his flustered Padawan follow him.

They finally got to the doors outside the Council chambers, and found John sitting on the floor, legs crossed as he was reading a historical datapad.

"Ah good John." Galen greeted his son.

John snapped out of his reverie startled. "Father?" He was puzzled to see his father here.

"I am glad that you are here, this concerns you as well." Galen explained cryptically.

"What does?" John asked, the sense of puzzlement growing.

"You'll see." Galen said grinning, taking delight making the two of them wait.

They entered the Council chambers and the Council gazed back at them.

They proceeded through the center and waited.

"Master Zaun, requested our presence and council, you have?" The Grand Master asked first, breaking the silence.

"Yes, I want to request the Council's permission to finish my sons training." Galen requested, bowing low, a slight spark of apprehension fluttering through his soul.

"You already have a padawan under your tutelage." One of the Masters dismissed nasally.

"That is true but Death is ready for the trials, having proved himself in battle and proving himself to be a great candidate for Knighthood. There is very little I can do to further his training." Galen gazed sideways at his Padawan, seeing his reactions. Death shifted his feet trying to hide his excitement.

"Make this request, lightly do you?" The Grand Master inquired, a low grumble swept across the Council Chambers, agreeing with the Grand Master.

"No, I do not." Galen focused his full attention on the Grand Master, narrowing his eyes. "But he is ready, he has experienced the taste of battle. He has fought, showing great skill and courage, he survived the Dark Planet showing more of his Courage in facing the Dark Side of the Force." He said the last pointedly.

"Hmmm… take this request lightly we do not. Of the greatest importance, a new Knight is. Grant you, I will, passing the trial of Skill he has, but not the trial of Courage. Padawan Death." The Grand Master ordered.

"Yes?" Death stepped forward.

"You agree, do you, that ready you are for the trials?"

Death glanced at Galen apprehensively. "Yes, I think I am."

"More to it, than thinking, there is." The Grand Master teased, his eyes softening. Then he turned back to Galen. "Separate issues, they are, Knighting the Young Death and making John your Padawan, grant the former we do, consider the latter, the Council will. We will prepare the Rooms of Knighting and of the Trials. We will summon you when we are ready."

The Council began filing out of the room. Galen, Death, and John all bowed low at the council leaving, and then they too left the Chambers through the door they had entered.

They exited into the adjacent corridor and all stood around in a semi circle.

"Thank you father." John started off bowing.

"Well we still have a long way to go before you are actually my padawan." Galen made sure his son understood.

"I know." John meekly responded.

"Well the first thing we need to do is to get you a proper Lightsaber, even if you do not become my Padawan the Jedi that is your master will be expecting you to have one." Galen mused.

"I understand father, I will go and study the texts." John nodded his ascent.

Galen was about to open his mouth for idle chit chat but he felt a summons through the Force, he looked around and they all nodded at one another, all having felt it. Galen made his way down to the Trial room, leading the way.

Jedi Temple-The Trial Room.

The Masters were now sitting in the 'observation booth' over looking the simple room. They had finished their explanation of what Death was to face. He was to face the trails of Flesh, of Courage, and of the Spirit. If he passed he would become a Knight, if he failed it would either be back to training or he would be banished from the order, or reassigned in it.

The room was simple, tan in color, with no windows and only one exit, it led to another self contained room in the back. The Jedi were not big proponents of the new Reality Chambers, and did not like the kind of technologies. Instead they relied on Force illusions, and ghosts, and the personally tailored feelings of the Padawan in question.

Death nodded determined, it was all on his good time, and on his schedule, nothing more and nothing less.

Death took a deep breath, feeling apprehensive for the first time, not knowing what he was going to face. He squared his shoulders and stepped over the threshold and into the room.

He was plunged into a whirlwind of sound, of noise, and of rushing air. The room swirled around him as if caught in a tempest. It was rearranging itself and organizing itself, he was in complete darkness and could not make out the change. The energy in the room positively crackled in the air around him.

Finally it stopped, the room calmed, and the rushing of air silenced. He was instantly bathed in light and had to squint until he got used to the sudden change of lighting.

Upon accumulating himself to the light he gazed at the room and made out a small golden goblet, at an impossibly far distance given the size of the room.

He saw the goblet and attempted to go pick it up, he made one step in its direction and then collapsed. His body was wracked with pain, he yelped out in agony and clutched the sides of his ribs. He felt like he was on fire and being ripped apart limb for limb.

He clenched down and got up, summoning all of his energies as he made his legs work.

He tried to summon the Force, but the pain that was spreading throughout his limbs made that difficult.

He took another tortured step, and then another, and then another. In short steps, barely moving an inch with each of them, grimacing, and his body quaked as he moved. He bit down on his lip so much that he drew blood.

He collapsed on the ground again and tasted dirt.

For the first time since the pain started he looked around the room, the room seemed to be on fire, yellow currents were swarming around him.

His body spasmed again and again, as the currents struck him.

He felt like he was dying, and wondered if he could.

NO! He would not allow it. He was not going to die in the stinking trial and the dark and the fire, he would overcome!

He reached out with his hand and summoned a wave of Force energy to himself. The Force flowed through him, rage and frustration at his current situation fueled him as he made one last effort to move.

His own internal fire flowed through his veins and his body, as he purged the outside fire pressing down on it, smothering it, not neutralizing it entirely but making it bearable. He got up on his knees, then his legs, and then started walking. Again at a slow pace but infinitely faster than how he was traveling before.

Finally, after much agony he made it to the goblet. Smirking in triumph, his face black with dirt and soot, he reached for it.

He yelped shocked as his hands made contact with the goblet as it burned them with a terrible pain. He looked at them and they were black and decayed, he moaned and grunted.

He picked up the dropped goblet again and then hefted it into the sky, yelling out with triumph he arched it over his head.

And just as fast as it happened it stopped. A whoosh of air blackened out the area, before a pale glow surrounded the area. He made his way over to the door, all his wounds gone, as he opened the door and stepped through.

The process repeated. Again the air rushed, again the room rearranged itself, and then again he was standing there.

"You have got to be kidding me!" He yelped in frustration.

He was standing on the edge of a great precipice, moving down, to rocks below him. Sharp and raggedy.

Creatures flew through the air below him, to one perch then onto the next, not flying so much as gliding, leaping through the air and then repeating the process.

Death had always been afraid of heights from his earliest years.

His eyes flitted around the area, there were twigs, branches, and outcroppings all down the rock face. But no obvious signs of what he was here for.

He heard a slight wail below him and followed it to its source. He saw a bundle, obviously containing a baby, he could just barely make out the cute young face peaking through the blanket.

"You have got to be kidding ME!" He groaned.

He looked around panicked, trying to find a path, anyway to get to the bundle on the outcropping.

There was one path. But it was right in the cross fire of the two creatures. He could go down and attempt to kill them when they got close, imagining they had sharp teeth, but he knew that was not the point.

He sighed, taking off his robes stripping down to his form hugging under clothes.

He took a deep breath, spread out his arms, and then leapt.

The air rushed about him as he fell like a stone, but he had barely enough time to react, he reached out with the Force and scooped up the bundle as he went past.

He then used the Force to slow himself down. He landed on the path below, the beasts above him were glaring down at him. Not looking as if they were going to attack him.

He sighed and then marched up the path, the room disintegrated around him.

He made his way to the third room.

It repeated the same process as before.

He was standing in the middle of a dark room, barely any light to make out his surroundings. He felt a cold, oppressive, a fog was hanging low throughout the entire room.

There were two black squares in the room, he was standing on one and the other was on the other side of the room.

He felt cold, and he got his Lighsaber and turned it on. The emerald blade was pale, distorted, barely looking like the rich and vibrant green that it was normally.

He began to walk around the room cautiously, looking for any threats.

He stopped and spun around as a figure appeared in the room.

Still dark, still obscured, his features were hidden by a hood.

Death held his Saber out at the figure, trying to illuminate him, but on the figure came.

"Identify yourself!" Death yelled.

The figure stopped, Death could feel it smirk, could feel the malice and pure evil radiating off the figure in currents. It removed it's hood.

Death was puzzled, he was shocked, and he lowered his saber slightly as he had brought it up to a more defensive posture.

It was him. Or a mirror image of himself. Older, thicker hair, he was pale and death like. But it was him.

"Well well well, my son, look at what you have gotten yourself into?" The figure mocked, looking him over once.

"What?" Death asked stunned.

"Being trained by a Jedi, being trained by the man who killed me." The figure sneered.

"I beg your pardon?" Death asked, his sense of unease, and anger was gathering.

"Galen. He lied to you." The figure explained simply.

"What? NO!" Death raged, he slashed at the figure intending to cleave it in two. But a red beam of light exploded from the figure, seemingly from its hand.

"Now don't you know, little Jedi, that anger and hate will destroy you?" The apparition laughed.

Death growled and lunged. He twisted and slashed with a fury of blows against his opponent.

His opponent stepped forth and blocked all the attacks, and then slammed Death in the gut launching him through the air, and he rolled on the ground painfully.

Death charged again but was met with similar force, and found himself on his ass again.

Death calmed himself, obviously hate was not working, obviously aggression was not working.

He fired off a brief bit of blows and twists, precisely, calmly, with great consideration, and he was finally able to slash the spirit from end to end.

The room instantly dissolved and he went through the door at the other end.

Galen was on the outside of the door, beginning to worry about his Padawan, he was in there for a while and he was over due.

Finally the door squeaked open and Death made his way through. He looked flustered and just a bit swollen, his Lightsaber was on the utility belt.

Death looked tired and weary. More weary than anytime Galen had ever seen him.

Galen moved up to speak to him. "What happened in there?" Galen asked, concerned.

Death met his masters gaze, coming out of his reverie. "Nothing, nothing master. Just the trials." Death evenly replied.

Before Galen could press the issue the Grand Master came out of the room behind him.

"Young Death, kneel." The Grand Master commanded drawing, and then activating, his Lightsaber.

Death knelt.

"Padawan Death, I hereby promote you to Jedi Death," The Grand Master brought his Saber down on either of Death's shoulders, searing the clothing slightly. "Knight of the Republic."

That was all there was to it, Death was now the newest Knight of the Jedi Order.