Chapter 5
38 Years ago…
A large cruiser ship moved sleekly through the inky depths of space, a small purple trail of burnt fuel spiralling behind. The cruiser was sparkling silver, its shape streamlined, its engines making little more than a purr. Within, a small enigmatic group was at rest, waiting for the end of their journey. A young Jedi with dark hair and darker robes slouched in the cockpit, fingers lazily brushing the cruisers controls. In the seat next to him was another young Jedi, hair the colour of straw and lighter brown robes flowing over himself. Both men seemed ill at ease.
"Atton, I just don't know if this is a good idea. It doesn't seem right!" the blonde Jedi said with a disapproving look. "The Jedi code…"
"Screw the code!" the darker Jedi countered, "I've spent too much of my life in regret. Whatever, Mira and me have is precious and I'm not discarding it simply because you don't approve." The blonde Jedi sighed deeply.
"I can see I won't be able to dissuade you. But think of the ramifications! If two of our founding members are in a relationship, how can we uphold that no other Jedi should?"
"We won't! Don't you get it? The old Jedi did everything wrong at the end! They held back and meditated when really they should have dealt with the Mandalorians when they had the chance. I'm not saying give in to all your passions but you have to have some, otherwise you're barely human anymore! This is our chance to really do things differently, whether you approve or not". The two Jedi lapsed into a tense silence. The dark haired Jedi – Atton – eventually spoke again in frustration.
"Where are we going anyway Mical? Bastila's gone so now we need someone else who knows what their talking about? To teach us before we start teaching others?"
"All I know is that Visas had a vision of a Jedi Master who still lived, someone who the Sith missed somehow. If he or she does exist then we will gain another wise voice to our council." Mical replied, clearly tired of arguing with Atton. But Atton wasn't tired of arguing with Mical.
"This is exactly what I mean! Why are we searching for a relic of the old order when we were told to create our own Jedi? Whoever this Master from Visas' dream is, they're probably going to support the same ideals as the last lot. I cannot and will not allow that Mical, it's not what she wanted."
"It's been two years Atton. It's hard to accept but she isn't coming back. We have to do what we think is best."
"I am Mical… can you say the same?" Once again the cockpit fell silent.
Hours of hyperspace travel later, a woman garbed in black and blue cloth appeared in the cockpit, her eyes obscured by her unusual dress.
"We are very close" she said enigmatically, "prepare to disengage the hyperdrive Atton". Atton nodded and put his hand over a large switch on the control panel. Visas Marr let the pause grow.
"Now" she said. Atton flicked the switch and the cruiser dropped out of hyperspace. Visas had had a vision of a Jedi Master who lived on a remote planet, but unfortunately she had no idea what the co-ordinates for that planet were. Travel through random hyperspace was generally dangerous, but not with Visas Marr guiding your ship.
"You found it… I don't believe it" Atton said, mouth agape. Below them, an entire planet came into view as they excited hyperspace, awash with greens and blues at its equator and Icy white at its poles. The whole crew of the cruiser filtered into the cockpit to get a good look.
"It's such a beautiful place" Brianna said simply.
"Wonderful" Mira agreed. At the back of the group, Bao-Dur was analysing the planet rather than cooing over its beauty.
"Terrestrial, Oceanic, very dense, but with normal gravity… interesting. The force drew us here Visas? Very interesting." Visas turned to look at Bao-Dur and nodded.
"Should we land with the ship then? Do we need to worry about natives?" Atton asked, also looking at Bao-Dur, ever the expert on planetary approach. Bao-Dur thought about this.
"Yes, there may well be a sapient species down there – but from the lack of buildings on our scopes they must be primitive. We should probably take the shuttle, it's more subtle than the whole cruiser. Who's staying behind on the ship?" Mira raised a hand.
"If everyone else is desperate to meet this Jedi Master Visas found, I don't mind looking after the ship. With luck whoever they are will be coming with us anyway." Mical nodded.
"Thank you Mira, we appreciate your sacrifice." Mira rolled her eyes at Mical's dramatics and gestured for the group to leave. One by one, the new council filed out. Atton lingered at the door. He put a hand on Mira's arm and leaned in close to her.
"Maybe I should stay up here? I'm not exactly the perfect Jedi for persuading a Master to join us, especially with my history."
"You'll be better than me Atton. I'll just get annoyed at the guy if he or she refused to help us. Go. Make a new friend." Mira briefly touched Atton's hand on her arm and then turned back to the ships controls. Atton reluctantly left the cockpit.
The shape and style of the shuttle was very similar to the cruiser. It pleased Mical that the executive ship of the Jedi and its shuttle matched tonally. The shuttle descended into the planet's atmosphere at a brisk speed, rapidly arriving at a clearing in an otherwise densely wooded landscape. Visas leant her head back in her seat and whispered:
"We're close. I can feel him." Mical nodded and the five crewmembers filed out of the ship, pausing to view the forest surrounding them. Bao-Dur had already produced an advanced, hand-held scanner from his robe and had begun taking readings of the planet's atmosphere, biosphere and soil. "Nothing especially out of the ordinary. Actually, I was expecting the gravity of this planet to be weaker than it actually is – it's no different from Alderaan." Atton nodded at Bao-Dur.
"I know exactly what you mean, I feel… almost buoyant here, refreshed, light. Does that make sense?"
"It is the force." Visas said cryptically and began walking towards one section of the forest.
"Where's she going?" Atton asked irritably. Bao-Dur merely shrugged. Mical began following his Miraluku colleague. The rest of the group fell in step. Atton sighed and joined his friends. Even having accepted the ways of the Jedi he would always be a lateral thinker and "following" others was not something he'd get used to anytime soon. There were only two people he would let boss him around, both women, one missing, the other annoyed at him for some reason.
The group, led by Visas made fast progress through the forest and with every step the Jedi began to feel the presence that Visas felt from light years away, a distinct force signature that was as old as it was alien and unfamiliar. Eventually the group reached the end of the forest and a flat grassy plain came into view between the thick trees. Atton groaned.
"Why couldn't we just take the shuttle to this plain instead of walking through the forest for three hours?" Neither Mical nor Visas answered. The Miraluku gestured for silence and pointed ahead of her. There, at the start of this rolling grassland was a wide flat rock of obsidian, upon which a figure sat, legs crossed n the lotus position and hands resting on thighs , palms facing the sky. Its back was turned. Mical took the initiative as leader of the group and walked out of the trees towards the figure, nervously but with purpose.
"Excuse me! Sir! We come with respect and a thirst for knowledge. We come to learn of the force!" The figure turned its head and looked at the assembled young Jedi with a smile. It had a relatively human face, (albeit a little more elongated than was usual) covered in fine downy fur as well as two long, curly horns protruding from its head, each with one or two gold rings linked through them. He (for it was a he) also wore a filthy brown tunic to cover an equally furry torso and his legs were coiled powerful things which both ended in a large black hoof. The creature stood, his inhuman, faun-like legs allowing him to tower higher than the Jedi had assumed possible.
"I barely get rid of my last student and six come along at once. Typical." He said. Mical spoke again.
"A student? So you are a Master? You do train people in the force?"
"I like to think I train people about life. That's all the force is anyway." Mical was left perplexed by this so Atton took over.
"Who was the student you mentioned? Did he just leave?"
"His training was completed 17 star cycles ago. Where he wanders now I do not know, nor is it my business." Atton looked at Bao-Dur.
"Star Cycle?"
"Probably how long the outermost planet in the system takes to navigate the sun. Am I right?" The strange creature nodded the affirmative.
"How long is that?" Atton asked. Bao-Dur typed a command into his scanner. He started when he got his result.
"Apparently 17 "star cycles" in this system would take sixty-three galactic standard years."
"Wow! You've lived alone here for sixty-three years? I thought you said your student just left!"
"My apologies. Time is relative and I'm used to having students only rarely. You seek instruction? All six of you?" Mical finally got his breath back and answered the question.
"Yes, we wish to… wait, you can sense the sixth member of our group?"
"Of course. The fiery young woman in the ship above us, stewing at you all for leaving her behind." "You can sense her thoughts? But we're practiced in shielding our minds! Who are you?" The creature smiled.
"My name is Cypholagorax. It's a mouthful, so you are welcome to call me Cy. If you wish to train with me you may call me Master Cy. And I'm afraid that apart from the dark young man over there" Master Cy pointed to Atton at this point, "All your mental shielding could do with some work Mical". Mical stiffened at being addressed directly without giving his name. He straightened up and formally gave his name.
"I am Mical Vallo, Jedi Knight and protector of the galaxy. I and my Jedi associates would benefit greatly from your tutelage, if you can give it as long as we have reassurances that you have no connection to the Sith." Mical took a breath. Master Cy again smiled wryly.
"So, Master Peleiaz has finally sent someone from his order to check on me. How is the old fellow?" There was silence from the five Jedi.
"We… do not know a Master Peleiaz Master Jedi" Visas said nervously, "who is he to you?" Master Cy sighed deeply.
"It seems more time has passed than I assumed. You know not of Peleiaz, my old friend? He was the Master in chief of your "Jedi" order the last I knew. I suppose he must be long dead. Strange I did not feel his passing." Mical's eyes lit up as his memory kicked into gear.
"Wait, I remember! That name is in the archives! Peleiaz, yes I'm sure of it. Peleiaz was a powerful Jedi several centuries ago. He trained… he trained Master Vandar." The whole group gaped at Master Cy in wonder.
An hour later and the five young Jedi and the eccentric Master Cy were resting in the latter's home, a large grey cottage, void of technology of any kind. They all sat in uncomfortable silence whilst Master bustled about his home making some convoluted form of tea, each puzzled and worried by this supposedly ancient Master of the force.
"I sensed you from across the galaxy Master Cy, we are reforming the order" Visa Mar was explaining in an effort to avoid the awkward silence. "Can you really help us?" Master Cy finished making the tea and brought it to the collected Jedi who sat round an oak table.
"Of course I can, and I'm happy to give you the advice you need but don't get me wrong, I'm not joining your order, however much you reform it. My place is here. I'm no Jedi and I'm certainly not willing to sit on a council. But since I've sensed in recent years some extremely unusual force signatures, could somebody tell me what happened to the old order?" Mical cleared his throat.
"Well Master Cy, it all began with the Exar Kun war some 60 years ago. He was a powerful young Jedi who…"
"Turned to the Dark side and started a damaging war, yes I've heard this tale a thousand times before. Arrogant young Jedi find hidden power in the Dark side and make a mess of things – such tales have existed since before "Jedi" and "Sith" were invented. I take it he was eventually beaten?"
"He was yes," Mical continued, "but whilst he waged his war he formed a species called the Mandalorians into a multi-species organisation obsessed with the glory of battle. Fifteen years ago they returned to Republic space to wage another devastating war which had to be countered by a man known as Revan, a Jedi who defied the will of the Jedi council to protect worlds under assault from the Mandalorians." Master Cy nodded appreciatively.
"A little initiative, I like to see that. I believe I've dreamt of this Revan on numerous occasions – in fact, I think I can tell the next part myself. The war ended when something dreadful happened, am I right?"
"You are yes. Malachor V was that terrible thing, a battle so destructive it tore a hole in the force itself. The woman who trained us was subjected to this horrific event and it changed her. It changed everybody. Revan and his fleet chased the Mandalorians to the ends of the Galaxy and when he came back he was a Sith lord, ready to wage another war against the Republic. He eventually had a change of heart but the remaining Sith continued to wipe out the Jedi. We and our Master finished the clean-up job two years ago, as the only Jedi left. That's a greatly edited version of events I can assure you." Master Cy took a deep sip of the herbal tea and sighed.
"That's a remarkable story! Truly remarkable. Tragic too of course, but then conflict naturally springs from divisions of the force."
"Divisions of the force?" Atton asked.
"Yes, when two people attuned to the force have a disagreement, however small, the force can sense it. Divisions as deep as those between the Jedi and the Sith naturally provoke violent reactions within themselves as the representation of the force's own conflict. I have dreamt of Revan and… the Exile for many moons. And now their offspring have come to my door for guidance." The group looked confused by this.
"Offspring?" Brianna queried. Master Cy chuckled and fixed the group with a piercing gaze.
"You all require me in some way – you are all damaged to a certain degree. Brianna Kae, you have yet to understand your own identity, how can you train others if you don't know yourself? And Atton Rand, you still squirm with guilt despite the Exile forgiving you. Mical Vallo, your heart is filled with doubt about your abilities, left over from failing as a Jedi for the first time. Bao-Dur, your mind still focuses too much on the practical in your life. And Visas Marr, you feverishly work under the shadow of an old Master. And what a Master he was. What a shadow."
"Will you teach us?" the budding Jedi asked in earnest.
"Of course I will. But leave your lightsabres behind. I can't be doing with that flashy nonsense."
Present Day
The Bloody Husk was a massive warehouse in the Nar Shaddaa mercantile district and served as the headquarters for the Gaping Maw Mercenary group. Today the entire gang was on parade, the vile collection of cutthroats and brawlers were looking in peak condition as they waited for Villssk and his cronies to arrive. The door to the warehouse slammed open and Villssk swaggered in, causing every single Gaping Maw gang member to snap to attention. Villssk was heavily kitted out in a sophisticated Black combat suit, vibrosword in a sheathe and the massive Bowcaster he had claimed from the Pazaak players earlier strapped across his back. As usual, Ragath and Farleth marched sharply behind him.
"Alright boys!" Villssk shouted with devilish delight, "we've got ourselves a job, a big job. Three pairs of Jedi Knights have pissed off the wrong people. We're going after them! I've already downloaded names and faces to your team leaders datapad. I want 15 groups of 6 out and on the hunt in the next five minutes. Use sonic charges, electrical shocks and vibroblades to take these Murk lacks down. Move, move move!" The Gaping Maw charged into action, with each team within the group forming quickly and rushing to their ships. Villssk grunted with satisfaction at the efficiency of his men. He turned to Ragath, the Barabel.
"What have you got for me?" Ragath grinned at his gigantic boss.
"For a start, the Zhug brothers have unequivocally stated that they will collect the bounties and no one else. Fighting words I'm afraid." The Zhug brothers were a far reaching organisation made up of Duros mercs who worked together towards a political ideal – reinstating their long lost social status on the home world. Suffice to say, the group had failed to buy back Duros so far but had a least done well for themselves on the Smuggler's moon and other places of ill repute. They were one of the only official bounty hunter teams who outnumbered the Gaping Maw, but they were nowhere near as fierce. Villssk snarled, not angrily but in the only way a Trandoshan knows how to show pleasure.
"Good. I always enjoy slicing through their filthy hides – I will carve a bloody swatch through their entire family! Who else?" Farleth continued the list.
"The Quim boys have already begun searching for the Jedi on the list. Their ship left Nar Shaddaa four hours ago stocked up with supplies, grenades, blasters and heavy weaponry." The Quim boys were a trio of the most violent men you're ever likely to meet. They had three different mothers but the same Mandalorian veteran father who had taught them little except the back of his hand, how to shoot a gun and to never, ever back down. After the oldest of the Quim boys beat dear old dad to death with an ashtray, the three half-brothers had got into the hunting and killing business and made any number of Rancors, Tarentaeks, and Drexls look comparatively subtle. Villssk sneered.
"Amateurish scum is all they are! Keep going!" Ragath took over again.
"Filcher Martin is so hard up he's going for the big prize this time. I didn't think he had the guts to go toe to toe with us but he's wanted by the Hutt's himself so I guess it's all or nothing for him." Filcher Martin was so named for his uncanny ability to locate and steal other hunters bounties, often when the hunter had done the hard part of subduing the target already. However, Martin lacked any other skills save for a quick draw with a blaster and being an incredibly bad liar. He was also a consummate gambler and was desperate for some quick cash to pay off his debt to the Hutts. Villssk actually snorted with derision at the notion of competing against Filcher Martin. Ragath took this as a sign to continue.
"And two left that we know about - The Verpine known as Biting Wind and of course the Harrow. Both are interested in the bounty on the Jedi as well." Biting Wind was an abnormally large member of the insect-like Verpine race. He (or she, who knows with the Verpine) was the most lethal and sophisticated sniper in known space. The Harrow was, simply put, the most dangerous assassin in the galaxy. At the mention of these two names, Villssk practically purred.
"Finally, a genuine challenge! I know the Verpine by reputation and I have been bested by the Harrow on one occasion. It's time for payback. TO THE SHIP!" And with that, the Gaping Maw was on the hunt.
Aron Vima and Mordred Veshnar were in the base of Kyborg tower, tracking the route of the ventilation ducts. They were now examining a room which provided the bulk of the tower's air conditioning.
"Here" Veshnar said, pointing to a small hole in one of the boiler rooms pipes. "The assassin gained access to the vents here – probably using a sheet of plasmite to force entry, see the scarring?" The two Jedi, young and old, both looked into the tiny hole in a metal tube which disappeared up into the ceiling.
"He must be really small." Vima said "I can't believe you get assassins of such tiny proportions." Veshnar smiled.
"Well, obviously our assassin was perfectly suited to this mission because of his size, not in spite of it. We know how they gained access to Bilik, and how they assassinated him. All that remains is who they are and how they got in and out of the building undetected." Veshnar paused and thought carefully about potential escape exits. The two Jedi came to the same conclusion at the same time.
"Sewers" they said simultaneously. Sure enough, closer inspection of the boiler room floor revealed an open grate to a sewage tunnel below. This passage was large enough for both Jedi to travel down and so they did so, penetrating deeper in the heart of Caston.
Through several tunnels later, the two Jedi had found the security measures put up by the Kyborg towers security force – a large metal grate to keep animal and intruder out of the sewer systems beneath the building. Once again, a small hole had been burned with plasmite from the other side.
"Stand back padawan" Veshnar said and drew his emerald lightsabre, cutting a larger hole in the sheet metal so they could both pass through. From here they travelled for a long time through a labyrinth of sewers, only the force guiding them through the darkness. Eventually, pressed up against a slimy, scum covered wall the Jedi saw the end of their journey. Here in the dark grey, putrid caverns of Dengkow's sewers a small community had formed on an island between two rivers of effluence. And it was small in more ways than one. The buildings were rushed, nocked together junk affairs made from whatever came to hand in the sewers during construction. The many tiny buildings made of rusted metal and rotten wood were far too small to comfortably house a human sized person so Veshnar and Vima shared a look.
"Alright young Padawan, this looks promising. It's certainly small enough for our killer to live here and perfectly explains why he wanted us to think he'd gone in and out of the window. I doubt anyone other than a Jedi could have found this place anyway, so he was simply covering his back. Let's do this quickly. Is this a Gand village?"
"No master, Gand live in full blown nests. If I had to take a guess, I'd say we could be dealing with a Chadra-Fan community." The two Jedi walked into the cramped village, causing virtually its entire population to empty onto the "streets" and gaze at the two giant interlopers. They were, just as Aron guessed, Chadra-Fan, the tiny, mouse like creatures who populated many a dingy bar, struggling to escape the common assumption that they were anything more than vermin. The assembled crowds of the diminutive creatures stared with fear and apprehension at the two Jedi, fearful as Veshnar raised his voice.
"Everybody calm down, we are Jedi Knights and we mean you no harm. We have reason to believe that an assassin we're chasing may have passed through your village. If anyone can provide any insight into where he went, please…"
"There's no need for that Jedi" a shrill voice whistled, "I will come quietly". The two Jedi turned in surprise to see an elderly Chadra-Fan walking towards them, long thin needle in the palm of his hand.
"I suppose I should at least tell you that it wasn't just about the money" the little Chadra-Fan said, having brought Veshnar and Vima to a larger dwelling on the highest point of the artificial island and served them drinks "I did what I did because this community needed me to do something. Hard credits are the only thing that can keep the Gand at bay."
"Wait, Gand? Your colony is under threat from Gand?" Veshnar asked, sipping at the drink gingerly at first for fear of poison. It was clean.
"I'm afraid so. We have been treated badly by the regular population of Caston on the surface so we established a settlement here. It's dank and miserable and there's a constant fear of drowning so in many ways it's just like our home world. We moved to nice arid Caston to get away from the water, and now look at us! Treated like rats." Vima and Veshnar shared a look. This was not panning out as Aron had thought it would. He was expecting a chase and possibly a shootout, not a conversation with the most depressed assassin in the galaxy.
"Could we get to the Gand please?" he asked impatiently. The little Chadra-Fan nodded. He stood less than a metre high, his squeaking language high and shrill and his thick, mousy hair was flecked with grey – the sure sign of old age.
"My name is Toolarith and I am indeed the murderer of Senator Bilik. I did it so that the money I received could pay off a nest of Gand who are living in the sewers with us – they have been pressuring us for credits for six months now. It is not a good reason to kill somebody and Bilik did nothing to me but there it is. I never expected anyone to follow me after my clever little vacuum sheet idea but I guess I underestimated the Jedi .Take me away then." Both Jedi were dumbfounded.
"So, that's it?" Aron asked, "That's the reason you killed him? A nest of violent Gand threatens your community here so to put some money together you kill a high profile politician? How do you know how to kill people anyway?" Toolarith merely shrugged.
"I have a military back ground. I know how to use my size to my advantage. What more can I say? My species is always underestimated by larger peoples."
"Well, regardless of your intentions and method, an innocent man is dead and the whole of Caston is in uproar" Veshnar said. "In order for you to avoid considerable difficulties for yourself and your village I strongly suggest you co-operate with us. Who hired you? Do you know why you were paid to kill Bilik? What was the goal of the assassination?" Toolarith sadly shook his head.
"My employer is the only bargaining chip I have. If you deal with the Gand who oppress this little village then I will tell you everything I know." From that moment on, Toolarith clammed up.
"So we have to stop these Gand from hassling your village and we find out what we want to know?" Veshnar said.
"What do we do Master?" Aron asked.
"I'd deal with the Gand," said Master Mira Ordo, battle master of the Jedi, walking into the humble house in the sewer.