Chapter 14: Like a Jedi

For the first time in something akin to a month and a half I felt like a Jedi. My brown cloak streamed behind me as I charged down corridor after corridor bashing open doors with wild telekinetic blasts, slicing anything and everything that came within range and whistling the Force Theme as I did all manner of awesome Jedi stuff. Needless to say, I felt positively radiant, or in other words, like a kid in a candy store. The Force laughed and sparkled around me, warning me of impending danger or upcoming obstacles. Now I understand Yoda's method of training Luke in Empire; when I did not think, the Force came instinctively to me, letting me predict my enemy's moves, crumple doors and otherwise let me accomplish feats of which I could only dream on a normal day.

As I turned a corner, I felt something nudge me to the side. Unhesitatingly I obeyed, and saw a blaster bolt impact on the place where my head would have been milliseconds earlier. Such a near-death experience might have been cause for alarm or contemplation under any other circumstances, but this deep in the Force I only marked the event with a passing thought. Instead my right hand flew to my belt and drew my saberstaff, igniting both blue blades in the characteristic snap-hiss. The fan-boyish thought of my weapon's coolness hadn't even occurred to me as I plunged into the squad of 501-Z and B1 battle droids.

I tore through them like the Jedi of old. Blaster fire was flippantly deflected, rifle barrels sliced apart, spindly necks snapped off with Force-enhanced punches or kicks, CPUs skewered with a brilliant energy blade. It should not have been possible for one of my skill, but did I care? I was not a Jedi yet, but the Force was with me, and that was all that mattered when it came to droid carnage.

I have absolutely no idea how long that incident lasted. For all I know it might have been an hour, or less than a few seconds. If I actually stopped to think, it would be more likely that a handful of minutes had passed, but what would be the point of stopping to think? Would it really matter, I defeated them, I lived to tell the tale, I did not get injured, what more could one want? I continued along my way, I had things to do, bad guys to get, and places to be.

The corridors continued on and on, the same monotonous pattern of light fixtures interspersed with doors and cabinets. I continued to run making my steady way to the security centre heedless of danger posed by obstacles or traps and not caring for the threat of GONK droids and their allies. The Force would protect me, of that I was sure.

My lightsaber blazed into life and cleanly dismembered the three droids in my way. They were not a particular danger to me, however I chose to play it safe – better safe than sorry, and better expend some effort now rather than have to deal with an attack from the rear at an inopportune moment.

The Force blared a warning and I fell to the ground before my brain could kick in and slow me down. Seeing as how unarmed combat and its attributes were never high on the agenda for me, I managed to bruise my shoulder on my way down. But hey, I didn't get a face-full of plasma. Elegance can take a back seat to convenience in my book.

Being on the floor had some advantages to it, namely that I could role myself under the droids' arcs of fire and come up lightsaber swinging at knee joints and torso control units. In short order they were down in many smoking pieces. I really didn't stop to think on it, just dusted off my tunics and continued my reckless run toward more danger, bad guys and awesomeness.

Sometime after, I was snapped out of my battle mind by a persistent shrieking of a comlink, mine to be exact. Suddenly I found myself moving more sluggishly and my perception had shrunken back to that of a barely trained individual. One more reason for starting Jedi training early on; you can learn to do all these nifty things naturally. I picked up the call still running, Master Adi or not, I had work to do.

"Padawan, did I not tell you to stay inside your security room?" The rhetorical query, coming after my succinct acknowledgement, held no real scolding, instead being filled with resigned exasperation and a promise to handle me later if I did not have a good excuse for my actions. My reputation was that of a person who rarely did things without a very good reason, especially if said hijinks were liable to end in violence or injury, especially to me.

"Well Master, you see … ah, did I forget to mention that our friends had explosives with them?" Sometimes flippancy worked better than grim no-nonsense stoicism, a little humour in a tight spot often helped things along, one way or the other.

"All well and good I'm sure, but I'm trapped inside the conference room and will not be able to bail you out of your inevitable mess! Not to mention that if your explosive story is valid, you should be heading away, you know, out of the building?"

"Please define 'trapped', and while you're at it Master, catch me up on defusing baradium charges if you can, I'll much appreciate a heads-up on what not to do." Offhandedly I jumped forward and skewered a maintenance bot who looked a little too suspicious for my tastes.

"You're joking, right? I'm a Jedi Master, not an ordinance tech. And for your information, the anteroom is flooded with Cryseefa, not to mention the IG-86 Sentinels just itching to blast someone the moment they get past the gas."

That put a massive crimp in my plan. Good thing for me, I was adept in improvising, but sadly I would most likely end up in the Healers Ward, especially if I heard the last part correctly. "Confirm IG Sentinels please, and what's Cryseefa anyway?"

"That's affirm on Sentinels, and Cryseefa is an acidic neurotoxin, kills you almost instantly, so don't come over here, please."

"You've convinced me Master, keep your head down, there might be a big boom."

As I continued my determined jog down the corridors, it occurred to me that I was missing something. Not in the Bilbo-missing-the-Ring kind of 'missing' but something immaterial… like I was supposed to feel something and wasn't … or think something and wasn't.

The intercom obliged me by transmitting one of the typical you-lose-I-win Bad-Guy rants and then I got it. I felt no fear or the slightest bit of concern. Good thing for a Jedi, bad for self-preservation. Here I was a hopeless beginner with only an inordinate amount of (bad)luck, ethereal guidance from long-dead Jedi and nothing but a lightsaber, a blaster, and the Force at my side in the physical plain.

For some strange reason my thoughts were instantly diverted when I came to this discovery. I tried pondering this occurrence but the thread of thought slipped away again. Failing to see how occupying my thoughts with such trivialities in the middle of a tense situation – a thought that seemed far too clear and logical – could prove useful in the long run I instead turned my attention to the scheme in which I was involved.

Fact: There was an assassination attempt on both me and my Master. Both attempts were foiled much too easily. Fact: the Enemy had baradium explosives. Baradium was not cheap and highly volatile. Fact: the Enemy had a powerful neurotoxin. So why was it not dispersed throughout the building or just in the conference room? Fact: The Enemy had advanced droids at their disposal. So why where they not sent against me; the weaker opponent? Fact: there were more than enough droids to be a nuisance or even a threat. Why were they deployed so inadequately? Fact: the Enemy was going up against Jedi, and they knew it. So what was their game? Far too many things did not add up, and I didn't like it when things did not add up.

Nor did I like when I was being shot at by three GX security droids who were receiving cover fire from a what? A BT-16? I was having one lousy day. Gathering what I could from personal experience and prior knowledge, I blanked my mind. Well that was not accurate, I still kept in firm focus my goal of stopping the loony in the Security Tower and surviving the day, I just pushed away all other concerns to be dealt with at a later date. I did not focus on the battle to come, I just ignited my lightsaber and stepped out of my cover.

It was hard, the repeating blasters of the BT and the wrist mounts on the GXs shot a torrent of rather lethal energy at me, forcing me to whirl my blades faster and faster. Needless to say, I could not keep up indefinitely and a shot grazed the back of my hand. No real damage was done by that shot, nor its three successors, allowed to pass through unhindered while I was dealing with the first distraction. Then, rather suddenly, it was as if a switch was flipped inside by mind. The world slowed down around me and as I straightened from a dodge I saw a laser bolt thick as my arm head for the dead centre of my chest. In retrospect I guess that switch was flipped by my dangersense, and when I registered that I was milliseconds away from joining the Blue Club, I no longer thought. I acted.

A powerful leap carried me out of danger along a steep ballistic trajectory which terminated in the centre of the droid formation. Upon landing I released a wild Force burst that knocked back my mechanical adversaries. They recalibrated quickly, but by the time any lasers could escape weapon muzzles I was up in mid-air once again.

This time I came down atop the BT-16 with my lightsaber skewering the machine vertically… Which might not have been such a good Idea as it buckled and I was Forced to make a hasty jump or lose my balance. The jump being what it was, I bodily slammed into one of the GXs. Normally I would have had to deal with a little thing called having by breath knocked out of me, but the Force was truly with me as I left taking a gulp of air till after I performed Jedi surgery on the hapless automaton.

In the next instant I was rolling to my feet, swinging my saberstaff in the first Basic Soresu pattern and charging one of the droids. In mechanical surprise it took a step back, and while it was still off balance, I let forth a staggering Force-Push in its general direction. It, and the trash can near it, embedded themselves in the wall. Waste of energy? Maybe, but it works…

The next order of business was to deal with the last droid, which decided the best thing it could do was retreat to another location. Unfortunately for it, it chose the exact corridor I needed. It wasn't my fault! I didn't mean to flatten it against the floor and then dismember and decapitate it! It just got in the way!

And so did the GONK droid in the next room which was promptly impaled and thrown out the window.

I continued in this manner, my battle-focus reawakened and Force-use on a purely instinctive level. Nothing really stood in my way, not droid, not obstacle, not door… I only feared when I would meet other sentients. When I raided Thorgo's place on Coruscant, I only used stun bolts and training sabers, not to mention they were mostly drunk, this time it would be real. This time explosives were involved, and determined people. I was not one for dramatics, but there was a fifty-fifty chance that three hundred other beings were dependant on that bomb not going off, and, by proxy, me being successful.

I had entered the Security Tower, and here I was faced with an interesting dilemma: climb the ramp or stares and get shot at every step of the way, take the turbolift and risk getting stuck in between floors or spend an inordinate amount of time on devising and executing an elaborate strategy. I figured that the first two definitely, and the last one possibly, would get me either injured or killed.

Then I remembered RotS, thought that it was a pity we were not on a ship with convenient gravity sheers, and without any further deliberation entered the turbolift shaft through a maintenance port. From then on up, it was a simple procedure; load grapnel, fire grapnel, jump up, release grapnel… and so forth and so on. By the time I was half way up I felt rather tired, even with the Force glowing around me, so I chose the cheating approach; I called the elevator and rode up on its roof.

I stopped it three levels below my target by lifting a pebble and striking it against the controls in the lift car, rest attained, I could safely cable my way up to my desired floor, and the droids could "Roger Roger" about why exactly was the lift car empty. It never paid to enter a hostile zone on an elevator…

…Nor did it pay to have the most ridiculous droids as security. Seriously, who puts B1s on sentry duty of all things? And where did Whoever get them anyway? The Trade Feds would not be this sloppy. Things were just not adding up. Well, I did not need them to add up, my blaster was armed, my saber worked just fine, and the door to the security chamber was only ten meters distant.

I chose the dramatic entrance. Picking up some speed to let my cloak trail behind me I folded my hands like in that trailer of Darth Sidious and stormed forth. I concentrated… and did so really hard… and when I was three paces away… the doors were flung open with enough Force to rip them off their mounts and shatter them against the walls. Maybe I need to learn more control, what do you think?

"Alright everyone, hands on your heads, weapons to the floor and shut it, I haven't got all day for this. Move!" Maybe that casual approach wasn't the best Idea, no-one did anything. Least ways not what I asked them to….

"Ah, welcome Jedi, I have been expecting you, have you come to join your friend?" It was an Iktotchi, and his approximation of a silky sweet villain's voice was as abysmal as mine of a suave law enforcer. "You see here" he said, drawing my attention to a gurney in the corner, "I was not indeed bluffing when I said that I had one of you Jedi captive…" Well, the robes seemed to match, but I did not recognise the person and my Force Sense was rather … underdeveloped. Still, I would take the worst-case scenario, and in that case, I was dealing with a dangerous man, a very dangerous man. In fact, I may have bitten more than I could chew. My interlocutor seemed to guess the rough direction of my thoughts for I heard the smirk in his voice as he gloated, "You see, it would be in your best interests to surrender now. After all…"

Talking bad guys was always a good idea, as while they talked, you could observe the situation, but sooner or later they had to shut up, or you had to shut them up. "Look, I don't know your name, and I don't care. I don't know what your evil plans of Galactic Domination are, and I don't care. I came here with a job, and this job is to clean up after your techs and their shoddy piece of work. I say this because I know that you have not installed the detonator yet, so I feel perfectly safe. I don't care for the supposedly Jedi hostage, when will you Villains learn Jedi will sacrifice themselves in the name of the greater good? You know what, don't answer that, all I want to say is don't make this any harder on me than this has to be." I spoke in a pretty bored tone, and most of it was the truth, I guess he figured that.

"So be it." He hissed, "Men, open—" blasters lifted to aim at me, but before the word 'fire' could be uttered, I interjected with a raised finger.

"You know, I am new at all this Jedi stuff and my aim is not that good, therefore when I turn this shiny thing on, I can't guarantee that your cronies won't lose important parts of their anatomy, you see, I really don't care if I lop off a knee or a nose, I won't even have to fill any paperwork, diplomatic credentials and all. The only difference will be your medical bill, our, more likely, the funeral bill. You have five seconds…" with that, and not bothering to wait – people that determined never back down – I tossed a flash-bang to the floor and leapt straight up.

It was a Dantooinian firing squad, though without Dantooinians. Lucky for them, they had abysmal aim or great luck and no-one was seriously injured… well that statement held true only as long as it took me to activate my saberstaff and jump into the action.

And this is how my first real combat scenario occurred. And by 'real' I mean that the guys shooting at me actually had a chance of hitting me. Scary if you think about it, but fear gets you killed or makes you evil, and frankly, neither option appealed to me.

Kicking some rears however, did. I came barrelling into the very midst of my attackers, choosing close-quarters combat to avoid being shot at. My saberstaff flashed backwards and forwards, leftwards and right. The glowing blue blades crackled through the air leaving molten sections of armour and weapons in their wakes. The distinctive smell of ozone hung in the room as mercilessly I cleaved apart vibroblades and axe hafts. Despite my boasting, I did avoid hitting anything vital, but there my good will stopped. Limbs fell to the floor with meaty thuds as without any finesse I tore apart through their ranks.

I had already incapacitated six of my adversaries when the call to disengage came, disengage and retreat… I let them go. I needed to get my breath back and see about that hostage, and getting tired, sloppy and then shot, was not on my agenda for the day.

When I was ready I charged in, the Force a telekinetic wall ready to batter aside anyone who stood in my way. It was an unrefined approach, no fancy bullet-stopping barrier or anything, but it did its sledgehammer job and there was one less enemy to fight. Leaping atop one of the benches I ran along towards the floating gurney in the corner. I had no intensions of releasing the captive however, many people don't realise this, but awakening a most-likely-drugged individual in the middle of a fire fight is the best way to get them killed. Instead I used the gurney as a sort of springboard and using my height advantage I fell upon then from above.

People say I have a heard head, not sure if they mean it literally, but that is how I take it. I'm sure the Rodian on the other side of my headbutt would agree if he wasn't unconscious. I was forced to cover by a concerted volley of blasterfire, causing me to take up prolonged residence behind a terminal. The boys had gotten their act back together and were now exhibiting a more serious approach to the situation. Five of them took up positions near the techs frantically working on linking up the various components of the bomb-to-be, three had adopted elevated vantage points while the other ten showed some common sense by showering my cover with laser bolts and began advancing in a crouch-and-run pattern.

I decided that the time had come to turn the tables back in my favour, literally. Grabbing hold of one of the benches I tipped it onto its side with the Force and waiting for an opportune moment I flung it at one of the groups currently running to cover. They were knocked off their feet and carried to one of the walls where they ended up pinned by the bench. Quite a neat trick…

Seeing the success of this manoeuvre I thought it high time to get the hostage out of the line of fire. I lifted the gurney in the air, thankful for the assistance of the repulsorfield, and setting it on its side rammed it into the Iktotchi commander. While he was more or less distracted I shoved the gurney into an open closet secure in my knowledge that the restraints I spotted would keep the Jedi from falling off. One less headache out of the way, I checked my gear once again and prepared for things to get real messy.

Things got real messy. Using a Force Flash to buy time I gripped one of the men doing high cover with the Force and slammed him to the ground. A sickening crack told me that he was out of the fight for now. Seeing as how he was not likely to require his assault rifle any time soon I pulled it to my hands, set it to full auto and let loose.

The wide spread of lasers forced Mr Iktotchi and his folks behind cover for the first time in a couple of minutes giving me a welcome reprieve. The next orders of business were the other two mercs in high cover. Instead of trying to hit them, a useless exercise for me, I peppered the ledges beneath them with lasers. Needless to say, the low-grade stone gave way beneath the weight of the humans sending them falling to the floor with curses and grunts. A short burst stun bolts made sure they were out of the fight.

Sadly the others weren't. The team guarding the technicians thought that they had enough and decided to flank me, and the main team seemed to concur by opening suppressive fire. Things weren't looking good.

I was beginning to feel the effects of Force exhaustion by the time twenty minutes had passed and the bomb was ready. A stroke of luck let me stun the technicians before they could do anything and use their limp bodies to knock back the flanking team. This however presented a new set of problems, now I had to defend the explosives as well as my position, and making stuff harder I had just ran out of ammunition on my rifle.

That was it, I was calling in help. "Master Adi, come in!" I roared into the comlink so as to be heard over the noise of blaster fire.

"A little busy here Padawan…" came a voice through the speaker, it might have been the static, but Master Adi sounded like she was speaking through gritted teeth. Just my luck…

"Well so am I, I'm pinned down and have a big problem. The bomb is set and they can trigger it at any time. I'm about to be overrun!" I ignite my saberstaff as I say that, the flanking team had arrived.

I do not here the reply as my comlink is knocked out of my hands and I find myself engaged in close-quarters. I have to deal with the situation quickly lest someone get hold of the trigger. My concern for life quickly evaporates when someone brings a heavy something down on my head. I feel woozy but that does not stop me from igniting the second blade on my saberstaff, dropping to one knee and swinging around in a half circle. I hear shrieks of pain as my assailants fall away, still alive but severely wounded.

The Force blares in alarm and I dive away, though not fast enough. A vibroblade grazes my left shoulder leaving a really painful gash. The world stops. Not slows down, but stops. I the pain rolls over me like a roaring cataract; this is my first real wound. It hurts more than the numerous times I had burned myself with a lightsaber, and unlike with the sabers, the wound is not cauterized, I have to stop the bleeding now. I feel rage. I tell myself that I knew what I was doing when I came in. That I knew of the likelihood of injury. The rage lessons, it becomes anger. Anger is okay, it can be dealt with. Only a millisecond passes before something snaps within me. I am no longer the detached outsider to this Galaxy, disassociating myself as much as I can, the Galaxy and I are no longer two separate entities; this Galaxy is now my concern. I feel relieved. My anger lessens. I let go of my fear… fear of the unknown … fear of screwing up … fear of the Jedi … fear of the future … fear of the Force itself…. Only a fool does not fear, but it has ceased to be such a concern. I will face the future like the Je'daii of old and like I always have, with conscience, thinking, sarcasm and a grin.

The world resumed its normal pace and on pure instinct I struck out. With uncanny speed my right fist flew up and struck the vibroblade-wielder in the jaw. A Force Push, innately triggered, sent him flying up and striking against the opposite wall. My lightsaber had not yet reached the floor when my right hand returned and caught it gently. I spun around deflecting a handful of shots and pondering my next course of action when it was decided for me by the Iktotchi.

"You are wounded! Surrender!" he called, rather uselessly in my opinion. I had decimated half of his men before thy started giving me trouble, what made him think I would change my mind now?

"Really? That's all you can say?" my voice dripped with distain as I prepared to grab him in a telekinetic hold. My focus was abruptly shattered by the snap-hiss of a lightsaber. For a moment I almost felt relief, until I remembered that there was only one Jedi on this planet and I did not feel Master Adi's presence. Before my imagination could conjure up visions of Sith Lords and drive me to panic I turned around to see what the noise was about.

The Iktotchi stood there holding a light violate blade in hand. Well maybe 'clutching' would be a better term. I was no sword expert by any stretch of the imagination, but it was evident that his experience with lightsabers was non-existent. I would have laughed had a stab of pain in my shoulder not reminded me of my other predicament. Only one hand being of use at the moment, I clipped the saberstaff back to my belt and drew Master Adi's old weapon. Giving a – I hoped – elegant flourish I beckoned him forth.

The duel, if it could be called that, was over in less than five seconds. He charged me first, the blade held for a brutish overhead strike. I did not even bother to let him approach me, kicking him in the chest and lazily deflecting some blaster fire. He got back up to his feet and even managed to send one strike at me. A strike which I easily parried with enough force to send the hilt hurtling across the room. Then I just slammed him away with a rough Force blow. Butting a rebreather in my mouth and deflecting the angry shots of his compatriots I thought playtime was far past over and released a gas grenade.

In less than ten seconds, everyone was moaning on the floor.

I knew the effects would not last long as the gas had been designed to work at higher density but it would have to be enough. The wound in my shoulder was beginning to bother me.

I was no field medic, not by a long shot, but it really didn't take much. Using the collapsible knife in my boot I cut away the cloth near my wound, applied some antiseptic and smacked on a bacta patch. I did so just in time, as my gracious friends decided to start shooting at me … again.

It is said being tired gets you killed. I am beginning to agree with whoever said that. Not that I should be tired, but … ah whatever … I should be tired. First dealing with the droids, then with them, then getting shot, and above all that my absolute lack of experience, no wonder I was ready to drop off. And Force Exhaustion was not helping in the slightest, not with a severe migraine as a result. I began to get sloppy, my actions less smooth and beginning to miss some of the more tricky shots.

It was a battle of attrition in which it would take me about five minutes to take one of them down with a reflected shot or a heavy object. This was not good, it would not be long before I would start making mistakes, and those would embolden my adversaries. I could not afford either option.

It was half an hour later when the dreaded thing happened; feeling I had an opportunity to tilt the battle in my favour I put into action a risky plan without thinking it through. I guess that is what fatigue does to you. That and it makes you stumble on smooth surfaces like a drunken idiot.

By all rights the sprint was barely worth that title, just a five meter dash from my cover to one of theirs followed by a graceful tumble over the barricade and I could hack half of them to pieces. It is all too true that no plan survives first contact with the enemy, in this case quite literally.

Going for speed and certainty over perceived flashiness and lack of actual affinity with the saberstaff I took up my old DL-21 and Master Adi's more manageable lightsaber, thumbed off the safety on the blaster and charged recklessly forth. To my credit I laid down reasonable cover fire for my sprint and even perfectly deflected all the shots that could have been a threat to me. Well 'perfectly' could be applied to all but one of the shots. I had just finished deflecting a volley aimed at my back and knees when one of the people who was supposed to be pinned down sent a bolt at my sternum. I did not fancy a whole in my chest so I frantically tried to simultaneously dodge, duck and bring my overextended arm back to a feasible block.

To my surprise I succeeded in avoiding field surgery but then the pesky floor conspired with my enemies and sent me tittering and flailing for an instant. Seeking to avoid a painful faceplant and the handful of shots even now bearing down on me I frenetically called upon the Force to launch me forward. Only instead of going forward I went up. Only to feel a lot of pain and find my legs tangled in something I was too busy cursing to identify. On pure instinct I sliced down with my lightsaber and tucked my gun hand close to my body in preparation for the rough landing.

It was rough alright, rough and awkward. My head had collided with the man probably responsible for shooting whatever that was at me, my blaster was uncomfortably jammed beneath me and seemed to be pressed against a moving something and my swordhand was so far out of position it was not funny.

Something kicked – or attempted to kick – me in the stomach and on pure reflex I pulled the DL's trigger. There was a muffled zing of a stun blast going off and with an undignified curse I got my second shock in twice as many seconds.

Several ominous hisses cut short my vacation and even as I instinctively dragged myself behind cover my mind managed to make a note that, if I was to shoot someone with a stun bolt, I should avoid contact with the target or get stunned myself. That memo would have been useful several seconds earlier, well, sadly that was what passed for luck in these parts.

Behind cover I had my chance to take stock of the situation. Explaining some of my previous theories yet all the while confounding me further, the ominous hisses were from several flechette launchers just now produced by my opponents. Under heavy fire I could do nothing but crouch and think, and what my mind came up with, did not sit well with me. Of foremost concern was my rapidly disappearing cover, and of equally grave importance the question of how I was meant to overcome this newest challenge; even seasoned Jedi had problems with multiple projectiles. Next on my mind was this matter of timing; why just now? Why did the group only know pull out the 'big guns' if they could have done it earlier and maybe overwhelmed me? The answer that came to mind was as disconcerting as the fleck of metal imbedded just beside my nose; I was worn-out and less likely to pull some effective Jedi manoeuvre capable of digging me out of this mess. They were far smarter than I gave them credit for, yet another rookie mistake.

To my rescue came Master Adi. A familiar presence washed over my Force Sense, like a cool sea breeze, and with a groan of metal, I heard the elevator doors blow open and two lightsabers ignite. Two? Since when does Master have two? Never mind, Adi's speedy arrival was just the stroke of good fortune I needed. As the bandits turned their fire on her I ducked out of my Swiss-cheese cover and let loose with several rounds from my DL-21. Aim was only a formality at these ranges and with as many stun-shots, four individuals were knocked unconscious.

The tide had turned.

My brilliant mood was summarily crushed as someone took exception to my marksmanship and hit me in my right elbow with, unfortunately, a full-power round. It was only a graze but it still resulted in a grunt of pain and me dropping my lightsaber from the unexpected hit. I was about to duck down and pick up my weapon when a hoarse laugh stopped me short.

Slowly, very slowly, I raised myself from the crouch to which I had instinctively fallen after sustaining my latest wound and looked in the direction of the horrendous noise. There stood my old friend the Iktotchi, his obviously stolen lightsaber held in a trembling hand while his other grasped for something on his person.

"Y-y-you h-h-have ffailed in the … end … Jedi. Failed in the end…" Looks like I did some damage earlier, his voice was coming out very raspy and it trailed off several times, but he still somehow maintained his 'villain' speech.

"I fail to see how that works?" If you did not know Master Adi well, you would not have noticed it, but she was grumpy. I turned my head briefly in hear direction, and was vaguely surprised to see another Jedi with her; the source or the other lightsaber's hum. It was probably my physical state, but it really did not surprise me or beg any questions, I guessed questions could wait until the medbay and a cup of tea.

"B-because you are s-s-o sho-rt sighted." Iktotchi saved my already overworked brain from overworking further by fiddling with some control or another and slamming a pane of glass between us and the corner in which he currently resided. The same corner, I had to note to myself with a bit of panic, in which stood the closet with the gurney and it's captive.

Admirably predicting my thoughts Iktotchi continued, "You Jedi are just where I want you, and my mission is about to be complete!"

"What makes you so sure?" inquired the other Jedi in a deep voice, one that I had not yet heard in the Temple.

In response Iktotchi opened the closet revealing the captive within and with a rasping cackle exclaimed, "Yess, yess! I've found it! Your weakness! I'm sure! I'm sure that you won't do anything while this little one is in danger!"

"Padawan!" Unnamed Jedi exclaimed, taking an involuntary step forward at the sight of a lightsaber pointed at his students head.

"Ha-ha-ha! I knew it! No caaaareful Jedi. We wouldn't want my hand to slip would we?" That guy was seriously off his rocker. "Now while you three mighty Jedi stand there like idiots…" he began rummaging through a satchel on a nearby table, "…I've got a mission to succeed in. Tut-tut! Stay there Master Jedi, stay there! Where? Where did I put it? I think I lost it? I lost it!" I was beginning to agree, but not in the same sense as the loony in the next room probably meant his statement. "A-ha! I've found it! Now Jedi… you are doomed… ha… and so is everyone on this miserable planet!" His hand emerged with a strange device, the size of a soft drink can and presumably, judging by what I could see, the detonator to the construct on which his technicians had been working on.

Lightsaber still held in one hand, it fell to his teeth to undo several catches on the presumed detonator. My assumption was proven correct when with a jerk of his head half the device fell away exposing several wires and a big, glowing, red button.

Oh sith…

"It is extremely evident that I have succeeded and you have failed! You are now doomed, and your pitiful Order will soon follow."

No matter what it is; instincts, genetic memory, training, or the Force, there comes a time when your consciousness takes a back seat and you find yourself doing what needs to be done without any meddlesome thinking involved. This was such a time for me. Almost of their own volition my hands tightened on the grip of my BlasTech DL-21 blaster pistol. With no input whatsoever I saw myself brace my feet in a shooting stance and lift the gun into a firing position. Both hands on the grip for stability, sights lined up with my target, deep breath in, deep breath out. Somewhere my mind had already calculated that there was no way to non-lethally subdue the Iktotchi, that a stun blast would not penetrate the glass… but a kill round would. My left thumb lifted and flicked the mode selector to the 'burn' setting.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night buddy. Now put the detonator on the table and step away from it… now." In the back of my mind, where my mental Teacher-Student link resided, I felt a sensation akin to a nod of approval.

Slowly, in agonizing slow-motion, I saw the Iktotchi's horned head turn in my direction. My Force Sight increased, zoomed in if you will, and I saw the expression of panic as he saw my pistol aimed at his head. My resolve almost crumbled at that sight. I nearly relinquished by grip on the handgun but then I saw something change in my adversary's expressing and the his finger began its inexorable descent… millimetre by millimetre. I waited for one heartbeat… then for another… hoping against hope that my opponent would change his mind. He did not. The finger was a third of the way down. I still hesitated. It had almost reached the half-way point… I gave him another five milliseconds. Then, with a pained exhale I pulled the trigger… once… twice… thrice….

The thud of a falling body came an instant later, speedily followed by the crashing of falling glass. We were safe, at least for now, and I was going to feel terrible for a long time to in my detached state of mind I holstered the pistol, walked over to my fallen enemy and robotically began checking for vitals. Finding none I moved onto the detonator which I dismantled and tossed in a corner. Still moving on pure autopilot I retrieved the lightsaber he had held, clipped it to my belt and went for the gurney.

As I took it to where Master Adi and the other Jedi stood, the world began to slowly fade out around me, noises coming as if from a great distance and my fingers beginning to lose some sensation. "Oh good" I thought to myself without sarcasm for once, "Means my body is dealing with the stress in its own lovely way. About time I passed out from all the stuff I pulled…." Strangely that thought proved comforting as I reached Master Adi and handed the gurney over to the other Jedi. Curiously my last lucid thought was that I would personally shoot the person who ever said or will attempt say or write that killing was easy, especially if it was one of those armchair adventurists…. Before I could berate myself for unjedi thoughts, I was out like a light, the last sensation being of falling and a gentle mental voice saying something to the effect of "My dear troublesome Padawan, now I know what poor Obi-Wan feels… rest… Force be with you…."

Welcome back to this story of mine. I apologize for not updating in more than a month but this piece was the longest and hardest to write in my entire history of writing, fanficing and otherwise. Not sure if you are interested, but I went through six drafts before I finally settled on what I got posted here.

I apologize for any spelling or or punctuation inconsistancies in this chapter as parts of it were dictated to my computer, and let's face it, computers are fallible.

I really hope this chapter was worth the wait/delay, I tried to get the 'Jedi Spirit' back into the story, but still keep the beginner aproach to things.

The matter of the first kill is something that I find myself dissappointed with in fiction. Either it involves a very callous approach where the protagonist shows remarkable disdain for life and fails to recognise the significance of the act which he/she committed, or where there is abundant and over-the-top angst that in no way helps the situation.

Next chapter we shall see a lot of discussions which will have a significant impact on the future of the story and parts of the Galaxy, some character development and a very important field-trip which the protagonist really needs to take before bad stuff happens.

I must inform my readers that for an indeterminate amount of time updates to this story will be very random keeping to no particular schedule owing to several ongoing projects. I will however promise, that this installment of the Young Jedi series will see it's story midpoint early this Fall as the Americans put it.

Keep an eye out for a couple more poems from me which shall hopefully be posted in the next couple of weeks.

Until the next update, may you have interesting material to read, and May the Fiction Be With You.

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