From Darkness, I Rise

by Kurenaino

The Jedi are thrust into a war that threatens to tear the galaxy apart, and prospects are bleak when the fearsome Sith Negotiator begins to win key victories against the Republic. Sequel to From Grace, I Fall. Also, more Sith!Obi keeps the sadness away. Search your feelings. You know it to be true.

62. Caleb Dume

Chapter 62: Caleb Dume

Caleb Dume walked slowly through the Jedi Temple on his way to the mess hall after training all morning for the Initiate Trials. They were less than a week away, and he was beginning to become a bit nervous. The Jedi had been rushing to put more Padawans out into the field of battle alongside hardened Masters, replacements for the ones that had been lost. It was a frightening time to be a Jedi Padawan, as the enemy put a priority on the deaths of the Jedi who commanded the clones. For Caleb, the thing he was worried about most was not being selected by a Jedi Knight or Master in time to get in on the action. He wanted to fight for the glory of the Republic. He wanted to represent the Jedi on the field of battle, he wanted to stand for peace and justice in a time when the galaxy needed most. He also wanted a hot meal. Training under Master Qui-Gon Jinn was hard.

At a very recent thirteen, Caleb was still a bit on the young side to be taken as a Padawan, and certainly too young for the heat of war, but Ahsoka Tano was only three years his senior, and she was running around the galaxy with the notorious Jedi Master Quinlan Vos. It was terribly unfair, but surely, nobody would be so cruel to end the war before he got a chance to be tested. His mind wondered, as it so often did, as he looked around the halls filled with younglings and initiates on their way to afternoon lessons or heading toward the Room of a Thousand Fountains for meditation, and Caleb found himself walking against the slow, milling flow of the others. There were so few Jedi in the Temple these days. There was no lack of younglings or initiates, but real Jedi and their Padawan learners, the Masters and the Council members, all of them were out fighting against the Separatists. Every able bodied Jedi was needed, especially now that the rise of the Mandalorian Empire was making the Separatist fight even harder for possession of unaligned worlds and systems.

In truth, they were lucky to have Qui-Gon Jinn there to teach them as he recovered from an injury he had obtained in a recent battle. The old Master was not only terribly strong in the Force, but he was an active General in the Army of the Republic, and he had a wealth of knowledge to share not only about the Separatist they were fighting, but about the Sith that threatened to tear them apart. Not only was he trained by Dooku, the Sith Lord Tyranus, but Qui-Gon had raised Obi-Wan Kenobi, the infamous Sithkiller, fallen Jedi, and Lord of the Sith Darth...something. Caleb bit his lip as he had passed a group of initiates that stood together whispering and laughing. He'd have to ask Master Jinn about the Sith one day, he had so many questions that the others seemed to know so little about. Like why the Sith had returned. How could the Jedi not feel it? What was it that made a Sith a Lord? Why did they take different names when they became Sith? And if Obi-Wan Kenobi was Sith, why didn't he have a new name? Did it mean he was still a Jedi? If not, than why? How?

The crowed in the hall passed, and Caleb was alone again, his soft, slow steps sounding with a muffled echo against the vaulted ceiling. Most were headed for lunch, and he was as well, but he had a stop to make at the infirmary first. He did so every day at least once as soon as he had the time, and he always made sure there was time for it. He wasn't hurt, not this time, at least, and it irritated the medical droid TB-2 to no end that the pesky, inquisitive youngling bothered him on a daily basis, but there was little it could do to make young Caleb leave. Besides, he had a reason to be there. She was there. Since the first day he had seen her in the bacta tank, Caleb had felt...something.

He felt like he knew her, though he had never met Jedi Master Depa Billaba before, but something drove him to her, day after day after day, and his questions about that were met with no answers, only lectures. "You must have control over yourself, youngling," Jocasta Nu had told him more than once when he had asked her why he was driven to her, asked who she was, what had happened, what was actually wrong with the Jedi floating in the light blue healing vat. The Jedi taught that there was supposed to be knowledge over ignorance, but there was also a rule somewhere about knowing your place and showing due respect, or...something like that. Caleb's curious nature made those things difficult for him.

His mind could freely wander as he made his way to the medical wing, as he had made this journey every single day for over a year now. After a while, even he had stopped asking why he went, he just knew he had to. His friends Tai and Sammo had thought he was insane to latch on to a Jedi Master that was clearly never going to recover when there were other Jedi Knights and Masters that needed Padawans. The Masters that served on the Council were largely without Padawans, though training under them seemed to be extremely dangerous, as Sith Lord Obi-Wan appeared to be targeting them, but the younglings were still eager to impress, and became downright show-offs when Qui-Gon Jinn had come to teach. True, the old Master had something of a reputation, having trained the rogue Kenobi, but he had also been responsible for training Anakin Skywalker, a Jedi that was quickly becoming the poster boy of the Jedi Order and the most famous General in the Republic.

But while his fellows were trying to impress the likes of Qui-Gon Jinn and Anakin Skywalker, Caleb Dume did nothing to seek their approval or their attention, which was, admittedly, an odd choice for a boy that wanted to travel the galaxy beside his Master and fight against the Separatists. Instead, he walked the halls every single day to sit with the comatose Jedi Master, even if he didn't know why, even when he stopped even asking himself why. It defied all logic, but...he felt this was right.

He peeked around the corner as he entered the medical wing, shifty blue eyes gazing down both sides of the hallway, and he slipped around the corner and ran as fast as he could when the coast was clear. He periodically darted into small examination rooms when he felt someone was coming, holding his breath as he listened for the sound of footsteps or the whirring of droids, and when he heard nothing, he dashed out again. He knew exactly where to go without thinking, and soon enough, he had entered the intensive care unit and made his way past rows and rows of bacta tanks in a dimly lit room. Slowing to a respectful walk, he almost tiptoed down the line as silent as he could, as if the sound of his footsteps might disturb the healing of the people within.

Caleb stopped before one at the far end, a partition separating this one from the others, and he sat on a nearby chair that he had pulled into the small room months ago that the droids had given up trying to remove when the chair simply found its way back day after day. Caleb took a deep breath as he observed her, calming his mind and reaching out to the Force to find...nothing. There was the faint thread of her life force, but he consciousness could not be detected, just like every single day before that. The mask on her face fed her oxygen and nutrients to keep her body alive and functioning, and the thick blue liquid had healed her wounds completely, pale scars on her dark skin all that remained of her grisly injuries.

She was still, as always, her thick black hair floating like a halo behind her, her thin body clothed in small black compression shorts and a tight, midriff revealing tank top that showed a body that had once been muscular and athletic, but now was atrophied from over a year without any activity at all. It was difficult to look at, even if Caleb felt a sense of peace when he did. He looked over his shoulder when he heard the whirring of droids, half expecting to have TB-2 come bearing down on him, as it always did when he thought he was alone, but Caleb found the hallway completely empty and silent, save for the quiet beeping of the monitoring device that was attached to the tank. He closed his eyes when he felt a rush in his ears, all sound becoming muffled as he felt...something. He wasn't sure what, but whatever it was, it was coming from the Jedi in the bacta tank. Caleb rose from his feet and took the few necessary steps to stand before the vat, and he slowly reached out and laid his hand on the cool glass.

Nothing happened. Caleb's heart sank a bit. He didn't know what he expected, but he at least thought there would be something that happened. He sighed, sliding his hand down the glass and looking up into the woman's face. The feeling in the pit of his stomach continued. He had put off lunch long enough. With a final pat on the glass, he turned to leave, and Caleb's body lurched forward and he stumbled, his head striking the seat of his chair as he fell to the ground. He sat up with a groan, wincing as he rubbed his head, and he could feel the Force, strong and insistent and pulling at him. Caleb ignored it, shaking his head to clear the pain, and found himself being dragged backwards. With a gasp, he dug his fingers into the ground, but still he moved. Looking over his shoulder, he saw deep, brown eyes staring at him from the bacta tank and a hand pressed insistently to the inside of the glass. Depa Billaba was awake.

With a strangled cry, Caleb jumped to his feet and pressed his hands and his face against the tank, looking her over and feeling the Force that she commanded, strong but gentle, flowing freely through her. She was pointing to the side of the tank, and Caleb followed her finger to the softly beeping controls. Without thinking, he slammed his hand down upon the panel, and it flashed red in warning just as he brought his hand down upon it again. Quickly, the tank began to drain, the blue liquid leaving through a grate in the bottom, and less than a minute later, the vat hissed and lifted, leaving Master Billaba exposed and shivering as she removed the breathing mask, coughing fitfully as fresh air rushed into her lungs for the first time in over a year.

All Caleb could do was stare, his mouth hanging open and his heart humming in his chest as he looked upon the Jedi Master that everyone said would never recover as she coughed and sputtered and gasped for breath. He forgot how to speak, how to move, how to do anything, and even though his mind was screaming at him to stop looking like a fool and do something, his body wouldn't move. It didn't take long for the medical droids to arrive in force, surrounding the woman as they ran physical scans and examinations, and the irritated drone of TB-2 saw Caleb forcefully expelled from the room, and the youngling was too tongue-tied and shocked to resist.

When his body had calmed and his heart rate slowed, Caleb indignantly tried to push his way back in, but the droids were forceful and prevented him from entering. He was too short to see over their shoulders, and when he bent over to peer between their legs, all he could see was a distant crowd of droids. With a sigh, he slunk off, but not too far, sliding down a wall and sitting on the ground with his arms wrapped around his knees. He didn't even understand what had happened. His training had never covered things like this.

Caleb didn't know how long he sat against the wall, a never ending stream of questions running through his head. He had answers to none of them, and thinking about them for too long simply yielded more questions. He had been so hungry before, but now, food seemed so unappealing.

"Youngling." The voice was calm and kind, and Caleb looked up to see Master Billaba, dressed in clean, rough spun brown robes standing a short way down the hall, a small smile on her face. He jumped to his feet and stood stiff as a board and hardly breathing. "Come along." He didn't need to be told twice. A moment later, he was at the Master's side, keeping an easy pace next to her as they went...somewhere. He didn't know where they were going, now that he thought about it. She just asked him to follow, and he obeyed.

They walked in silence for a long while before Caleb could take it no longer and swiftly blurt out, "Where are we going?"

She smiled gently. "After all this time, that is the first question you have?"

"...I have a lot of questions."

"I'm certain you do. As do I." Caleb looked up at her curiously. "The droids told me you came to me every day. Why?"

"I-I..." He couldn't answer. No matter what he said, he would sound like an idiot before this Master, and that was the last thing he wanted. There was silence, and it was awkward, and Caleb looked sidelong at Depa to see her looking at him. She was waiting. He swallowed hard. "I just...it felt like the right thing to do." To his relief, she seemed to accept this.

"We are going to report in to the High Council. My report is long overdue."

"Which report?"

"...from Haruun Kal." Caleb was silent as he studied the Master, her kind face dropping into a grim pensiveness, and his mind flooded with questions, Depa seeming to notice when she sighed heavily. "You have questions." He opened his mouth to speak, but she swiftly put her finger to his lips. "I'll give you three."

"Three!?" Caleb gasped, his mind racing with hundreds of questions, but he couldn't grab a single one. "How am I supposed to pick just three!"

Depa smiled. "Wisely. You have two left."

Caleb gawked at her. "Wait, did that question count?"

She nodded. "As did that one. Your last question, youngling."

This time, Caleb held his tongue, thinking long and hard about what he would ask, but a single question kept coming to his mind. "Everyone said that you were broken," he said quietly. "They said you were never coming back. Why? What happened to you?"

Depa chuckled sadly. "I appreciate your directness, young one. The short answer is that I led my men to their deaths. Good men, who didn't deserve to die, and as their General, I failed them." They stepped into an elevator, the door hissing closed as they began to rise, but Caleb hardly noticed. "And then I faced a Sith Lord. I was unprepared for..." She hissed as she looked away, her hand coming to her face, and Caleb could feel the pain in the woman. He reached out and gently lay a comforting hand on her arm. "He got inside my head and tore me apart from the inside."

"I-I'm sorry..." Caleb said, his voice barely a whisper and his chest aching with sympathy, but the Master simply shook her head. "You seem fully recovered..."

"Perhaps..." Depa said softly. "But the fact of the matter is that many good men under my command are dead. Those deaths are my responsibility, and I fear causing more." She laughed bitterly. "Which makes my usefulness as a General in the field suspect at best."

"But the Sith-"

"The Sith are not the issue," she said swiftly, dismissing the notion before Caleb could even finish the thought. "Any trouble I have in my recovery, any challenge I fail rests on me, and me alone. Count Dooku, Obi-Wan Kenobi, any other Sith we may face simply provide the grounds on which we are tested. It is up to us, not them, if we face failure, both during the trial, and after." She smiled at him as the doors hissed open and they stepped out. "Do you understand, young one?" Caleb shook his head, and the Master closed her eyes. "You will in time." She moved her hand through the air, the large door of the Council Chamber opening before her, and she stepped toward it, the youngling staying rooted to his place by the elevator. Depa looked over her shoulder at him. "Well? Come along."

They entered the chamber together, Depa breathing deeply as she looked around the room at the twelve chairs placed in a circle around the windows at the walls. All the seats were vacant except for one, the old Master sitting cross-legged with his eyes closed, and Depa and Caleb felt his presence reach out to him, and Qui-Gon Jinn smiled. "Depa Billaba," Jinn said softly, his blue eyes opening and gently regarding the other Master, his hand extended to one of the vacant seats. "Welcome back. The Council has needed you."

She stared warily at the seat, a pained expression on her face. "Has my seat not been filled?"

"It has," Jinn said softly. "But we have since lost two more to Obi-Wan. We have yet to fill those seats, and one is yours, if you will take it." With a deep breath, Depa nodded and took the seat that had once been hers.

"You don't have the power to give this back to me," she said softly, "but I appreciate the offer."

"I'm certain the Masters will have no trouble in reinstating you, once you have cleared the tests they certainly have in store for you. After what happened to Eeth Koth, there is some cause for concern, as I'm sure you understand."

She nodded. "Where is everyone?" she asked, beaconing Caleb to come to her, and the youngling quickly and dutifully did as she commanded, kneeling by her feet and looking in wonder around the room. He'd never been in the Chamber of the Jedi High Council before.

Qui-Gon smiled sadly. "Where is everyone...it's a simple question with a difficult answer. I fear you have missed a great deal." And he told her all of it. Caleb listened with rapt attention as Qui-Gon Jinn explained all that had happened after Haruun Kal, about the injuries sustained by Mace and Kit, about the disappearance of Shaak Ti and Saesee Tiin, about the Republic victories and defeats, about the formation of the Mandalorian Empire controlled by the Sith, and Caleb Dume listened intently through it all. Really, he was uncertain why he was even allowed to be there to hear all of it, why a Master as renowned as Qui-Gon Jinn, who now sat in the Council second only to Yoda himself, would allow a youngling to a discussion between Masters without question. He didn't understand, but in his presence, he felt comfort and an easy grace.

"So everyone is in the field?" Depa had asked after the long while it took Qui-Gon to explain, and he nodded.

"With the exception of myself and Master Yoda, yes. Yoda sits in meditation to see if he can't sense any more of the Sith and I, well..." He smiled sheepishly. "I'm recovering. It's nothing serious, but I will be out a few days more. It gave some of the others a chance to leave. Mace hasn't been in the field since Haruun Kal."

"That must have killed him. He has always been itching for a fight."

"Perhaps, but Obi-Wan had humbled him a bit. I would say it did him good, if we did not need him so badly to be fighting." He stopped and looked the woman over, frowning as uncertainty came off of her in waves. "What is it?"

"You should not be trusting me," she said softly. "I only just came back from what that Sith had done to me. You don't know if he had altered my mind, or...tampered with me. You didn't even ask. How could you be so careless?"

"As I have said, Obi-Wan spent a day here on Coruscant, and I spent that day learning what he can do, how he thinks, and where his place in the Force is. I know his darkness. I know what it looks like, what it feels like, how it seeps into a person's mind, and his touch is not upon you. It is true he has broken you, but he never touched your soul." He smiled gently. "I believe you will find that to be true as well, as will the other Masters."

She breathed deep, felt the warm, comforting embrace of the Force, and she knew it was true. "He killed my sister," she said softly, and she heard Caleb gasp beside her. Qui-Gon leaned forward, his elbows upon his knees as Depa held up her hands, the sleeves of her roe falling down to reveal the scars left by the lightsaber burns on her wrists and on the pit of her throat. "He told me when we fought. He...cut me the way he had cut her in her final moments."

"...that was cruel of him."

"He is Sith, Qui-Gon, of course he is cruel."

"Do you seek revenge?"

Depa didn't say anything for a long while, and then she shook her head. "I did at the time. I thought I did, but now..." She sighed heavily. "My sister has been with the Force for a long while. How she got there no longer matters."

Qui-Gon bowed his head. "I'm sorry...Obi-Wan's fall to the Dark Side is my doing. Every life he claims, every cruelty he inflicts can be laid at my feet as well as his."

"Didn't he choose it?" Caleb blurted out, and he swiftly covered his mouth with his hands, his ruddy skin flushing when the deep blue, compassionate eyes fell on him.

"You watch this one, Depa," Qui-Gon said, not unkindly. "There is greatness within him. Speak your mind, youngling. You would not be here if I did not care for the questions of inquisitive children."

He was quiet for a moment, shifting uncomfortably as he remembered that Qui-Gon Jinn had trained the Sith in question. It was, at best, a sore topic. "The Masters teach us to resist the Dark Side. They say that not being able to is a reflection of our own failings and weaknesses. They say that embracing the darkness is a choice."

"Your Masters aren't wrong," Jinn said softly. "But sometimes, the only choice you are given are bad ones. Sometimes, there is no easy choice, or right choice. When faced with that, what will you do?"

It took a moment for Caleb to realize that the question wasn't rhetorical, that the Masters sat there and watched him patiently, waiting expectantly for an answer. He stuttered for a moment, looking away as he thought before he quietly answered, "I'd do what was best for the most amount of people."

"Oh?" Qui-Gon smiled slyly. "Say you are a Padawan, faced with impossible odds, and your Master's life, a battle, the fate of a planet hangs on your victory. The power of the Dark Side lays just in reach, and grabbing hold of it will give you a chance for victory when there was none before. What would you do?"

Caleb started to answer, than quickly stopped, thinking for a moment before he said in a firm voice, "There is always another way. I wouldn't do it."

Qui-Gon smiled sadly. "It is so easy to say that. This is the choice that Obi-Wan was faced with, and he touched the Dark Side in order to defeat a Sith Lord. Was this not done for the greater good?"

"W-well..."

"What he did was wrong, youngling, but he was faced with a situation where there were no right answers," the Master said softly, leaning back in his seat. "I have had a very long time to try to understand my wayward student, and it was ultimately my fault that he was given no other choice. We always had a different understanding of the Force, and toward the end, we fought often. I handled him badly, forced him to embrace darkness just to cling to balance, neglected him in favor of another when he needed me most."

"You cannot blame yourself for his choice, Qui-Gon," Depa said, but the other Master shook his head.

"I can, because the fault is mine. I gave him no choice but darkness." He looked at Caleb, the young boy gripping his knees tightly as he listened. "The lesson, child, is that there are right choices and wrong choices, but sometimes, the only choices you have are bad ones, but you still have to choose."

"W-what do you do then?" Caleb asked, and Qui-Gon smiled sadly.

"You do all you can not to lose yourself. We are not Sith, young one. There is good, and there is evil, but we must not allow that distinction to cloud or vision, or get in the way of compassion and understanding."

"But won't that make it easier for the Sith to kill us?" Caleb asked. "If we just try to understand them, and all they want to do is kill us, then they win."

Qui-Gon nodded. "Not everyone can be saved, you are right. But still we must try. Cruelty and violence only breeds more of the same. It's the job of the Jedi to stop this cycle by approaching problems with patience and understanding."

"...how do we do that in a time of war?"

"I'll let you know as soon as I figure that out."

Depa laid her hand on the youngling's shoulder. "Enough questions for now. Master Jinn has given you plenty to think about." Caleb silently nodded and looked down at the ground. He only had more questions. Perhaps Master Billaba could explain further another time. "When will the others return?"

Qui-Gon smiled. "Oh, when they find out you have returned? I suppose they will be here by morning."

"They can abandon their battles so quickly?" Qui-Gon simply shrugged.

"After Obi-Wan had come to Coruscant, he has been rarely seen. Dealing with him right now is not a priority, and while Grievous is still a problem, nobody has seen Asajj Ventress in weeks. Soldiers from the battles over Sullust are insisting that she was killed in action, but we have yet to confirm that. And as for the rest, the biggest confrontations right now are on Umbara and Mon Cala, but the Generals in command there are not on the Council." A light on Qui-Gon's armrest began flashing, and he sighed heavily, a weary smile on his lips. "I swear, he can hear when he's being talked about," he said sheepishly, answering the com, and the room dimmed, a life-size hologram of a wet, frustrated Anakin Skywalker projected within the room. The General bowed swiftly.

"Master Qui-Gon. Good to see you up and about. How's the leg?" Skywalker said tersely, and the Master shook his head.

"Well enough. How are our Mon Calamari allies?"

"Fine," he said harshly, crossing his arms in front of his chest and scowling. "The Quarren have been pressed back, the new Mon Calamari king has been instated, and the battle has been won."

"That hardly seems to be something to be upset about."

"No, all that is fine!" Anakin nearly shouted. "The problem is what happened after the battle had been won. While we were all underneath the water, someone was up above stealing our ship!"

"...excuse me?" Qui-Gon felt a pit in his stomach as he watched Anakin become even more angry.

"We came up for pickup after we were ready to go, only to find that someone has stolen the Endurance and the entire battalion of clones she carried. They are all gone."

Qui-Gon groaned loudly, burying his face in his hands. "Return to Coruscant, Anakin. I fear we need another change of tactic." With a nod, Anakin cut the com, and the room was left in silence. "Youngling," Master Jinn said, his voice weary, "please bring Master Billaba back to her quarters. It's been a long day, and I fear tomorrow will be even longer."

With an enthusiastic nod, Caleb jumped to his feet and took the Master's hand, and despite how grim the Masters were, he couldn't help but feel a warmth in the Force. This was where he was meant to be.