Chapter Seven: Tests and Traps
As it turned out, Canlyn and Kira hadn't needed to search for the Gand at all.
In the aftermath of the Migrant Merchants' Guild crackdown, Republic security was maintaining a strong presence in the Old Galactic Market. The two young Jedi asked a security man about a group of Gand and were told that they had already been detained for questioning.
The officer gave them directions to the Republic Security Outpost. It was clear that he took pleasure in announcing its location: the former Guild headquarters.
"Most secure building in the sector," he said. "And with all the equipment we need. Anyway, ask for Alec Efran."
Alec was a blond-haired human male. He was very young and was obviously unnerved by the arrival of two robed Jedi.
"Uh, welcome," he said, stumbling over his words. "Welcome to the, uh, old Galactic Market. Uh, sir – I mean, ma'am."
Kira cocked her head. "Are we that intimidating, officer?"
Alec flushed. "Sorry. I've never met a real Jedi before."
"We're people, just like you," Kira said. She extended a hand. "Kira Carsen, Jedi padawan. This is Jedi Knight Canlyn Dessan. We're happy to meet you."
Alec's nervousness faded at Kira's warm tone, Canlyn noted. Much like Ashara, Master Kiwiks' padawan seemed to know how to talk to people, how to put them at ease and win their trust. It was a skill she envied.
"We need to question some Gand in your custody," Canlyn said. She mentally winced at how harsh her voice sounded, particularly in contrast to Kira's.
Sure enough, a bit of Alec's nervousness returned. "Um, right," he stammered. "Yes. Follow me."
Holding cells had been rigged up using security shields. Canlyn wondered whether they had been brought in, or whether the recently suppressed criminals had already had the devices on-hand. She thought of asking; but it was irrelevant to the task, and she didn't want to provoke another round of stammering from Alec.
"These are the Gand we brought in," he said, unnecessarily. "They, uh, haven't been talkative. I think the one in front's the leader."
One Gand stood in front of the rest. He was still, his head bowed. After so much time with Qyzen, Canlyn thought she understood.
"You feel shame at being captured," she said. "You think you should have fought. You were wise not to."
The Gand raised its head, its insectoid eyes turning toward her. Canlyn sensed that it was evaluating her.
"My name is Canlyn," she said. "What is yours?"
Another moment of silent scrutiny. Finally, the prisoner spoke. "This Gand will say nothing, to you or anyone."
Not a promising beginning. Canlyn wanted to turn to Kira, to let the other woman try to strike up a rapport with the Gand. But the Gand ignored both Kira and Alec. For the moment, Canlyn had captured its interest. She needed to avoid losing that interest.
Well, she didn't know much about making connections. But she knew that it helped to call someone by name. She would start with that.
"You refer to yourself as 'Gand.' Why not tell me your name?"
The Gand stiffened. "Gand do not speak their names except when they have earned it. This Gand has not earned it."
Interesting. Canlyn had studied Gand at the Temple, as well as other races, but she had not come across this element of their culture. She wished Qyzen was here. Somehow, she felt the hunter would have related to this.
Qyzen isn't here, she reminded herself. She decided to approach this as a test. Every puzzle had an approach that yielded a solution. The Gand wanted to earn a name. It was a question of worth, of completing a task or doing something of value.
"I'm here on behalf of a dying woman," she said. "I'm looking for a Noetikon – A very special Jedi holocron. If you have any information that can lead me to it, then you might help me save her life. Would that be worth a name?"
The Gand leaned in slightly, and she again had the sense that it was weighing her, reaching a judgment.
"This Gand would like to earn its name," it said. She sensed a note of sadness from it. "But this Gand has no wish to betray his fellow Gand."''
Him. The Gand had let slip a small piece of personal information. As irrelevant as it seemed, it was an indication: It – no he – wanted to help. She just had to convince him to take the step.
"It won't be a betrayal," she said. That didn't sound convincing, and she sensed the Gand starting to lose interest.
Her mind raced. This is a test of persuasion. In making an argument, it is not enough just to state something. You must support your claim.
"I promise no harm will come to the Gand," she said. "You will be under the protection of this man – " She nodded to Alec. " – and his colleagues. And if you are in no danger, or once the danger has passed, you will be allowed to go free."
Alec cleared his throat. "I, uh, may have to get permission…"
"I assert Jedi authority under the Republic Charter," Canlyn snapped. "Section 7, Subheading D, Paragraph 8, if you need to look it up."
Alec stepped back, his anxiety again dominant. Kira put a reassuring hand on his arm.
"It's all right," she said softly. "They don't exactly strike me as big security threats. And the Charter gives us authority here."
Canlyn felt the slight push of the Force underneath Kira's words. Between her touch, her tone, and the gentle hint of the Force, Alec relaxed. "The Charter gives you authority," he agreed.
Canlyn turned back to the Gand. "You have my word," she said firmly.
The Gand bowed his head. "Very well. This Gand will tell you what he knows. The Gand delivered the special holocron to the human, Lars Baddeg. The human holds it now."
"Can you tell me where to find this man?"
"He is a member of the Justicars."
Alec whistled, while Kira exhaled.
"Well," Kira said. "This just became a little more complicated."
Canlyn was confused. Weren't the Justicars just a criminal gang, like the Black Sun?
Alec explained that it wasn't that simple.
"They're more like the Migrant Merchants' Guild was – at least, until the Guild crossed the line. Officially, the Justicars are self-appointed lawmen who patrol the lower city. I've heard the veterans talking about the early years after the Imperial Occupation. Back then, Republic Security was grateful for them. Resources were stretched thin, and with the Justicars keeping order in the lower city… Well…"
"The Justicars kept things quiet, so Security didn't have to worry about doing anything in that territory," Kira cut in. Her voice was harsher than before, clearly disapproving.
Alec caught her tone as well. "In hindsight, Security should have done more. The Justicars have total control of the lower city. Officially, they cooperate with us… But let's just say we know that we're not welcome."
Canlyn seized on the first part of that statement. "If they even officially cooperate, can't we get a meeting?"
Alec shrugged. "My captain can try."
"Tell him a Jedi Knight would like an immediate meeting with Lars Baddeg," Kira said. "They might dismiss Security, but they'll probably at least make a show of cooperating with Jedi."
Kira was proved correct. Alec's captain opened a holo-channel to the Justicars. When the Jedi were mentioned, the Justicar representative agreed to authorize Canlyn and Kira to meet with Baddeg.
"We always respect authority. And it is refreshing to see the Jedi taking even a passing interest in the lower city."
Canlyn ignored the swipe, and instead bowed and thanked him for his assistance.
"They only authorized you," the Republic captain said once the image flickered off. "That means I can't send anyone along. You could easily be walking into a trap."
"I thank you for your concern," Canlyn said. "But we are Jedi. We will be quite all right."
The Justicars controlled Sector 439 in Coruscant's lower levels.
"Control" was the correct word, Canlyn noted. The entry point was walled off, with just a single entrance and exit point. Those coming and going passed IDs over an optical scanner under the watchful eyes of armed guards, whose uniforms were militaristic but definitely not those of the Republic.
A thin-faced middle-aged man wearing such a uniform greeted her and Kira as they emerged from their speeder.
"You would be the Jedi?" His voice was clipped, but his tone was polite enough.
"Canlyn Dessan, Jedi Knight," Canlyn said. "This is Kira Carsen, a padawan of the Jedi Order."
The man nodded. "As reported," he said. "I am Lars Baddeg, Brigade Leader first class. I understand you are searching for a Jedi artifact."
"A Noetikon – a kind of Jedi holocron. It… went missing from the Jedi Temple. A Gand indicated that he had passed it on to you."
"Ah, yes, the Gand. Filthy creatures – lawless thieves. They made it known that they had possession of your artifact. We purchased it from them. If we hadn't, it would doubtless have found its way to the Black Sun."
Canlyn and Kira exchanged a look, both surprised at how readily he admitted to having it.
Lars smiled thinly. "Our intent was always to return it to the Jedi. We are not outlaws, whatever Republic security may have told you. We believe in order."
Canlyn's eyes strayed to the checkpoint, to the people filing through. She noted their blank expressions, their eyes attempting to avoid the guards' gazes.
"What about freedom?" she asked. "All Republic citizens are guaranteed rights and liberty."
"We comply with all Republic laws," Baddeg said. He led them through the entrance gate. The guards waved to the citizens, who promptly stepped aside to allow them through. "Our security is strict, but that is to maintain the safety and security of our citizens. All who live in the sector are free to leave. We may counsel citizens against leaving without work, school, or family waiting for them – We don't wish them to become prey for one of the many gangs or criminal groups outside our walls. But in the end, the decision is theirs."
Inside the walls, the streets were all but empty. The people who gained admission moved quickly along to their destinations. No couples lounged in the squares, no groups of children played. It was downright eerie how deserted it was.
"Where are the people?" Kira asked.
"Curfew begins soon," Baddeg replied. "People out after curfew are detained for questioning. Most are quickly released – Those with outside jobs sometimes return late, and this is understood. However, we must remain vigilant."
"It seems excessive."
"You must understand," he replied. "After the Imperial Occupation, our world was in chaos. The Jedi withdrew, and Republic security was spread too thin. The Old Galactic Market became a haven for refugees. The lower slums were essentially annexed by the Black Sun. The Justicars made sure that didn't happen here."
He led them through a security gate and into a building. He used his ID to summon a lift, and then selected the top floor.
"Look up the statistics," he continued. "Far more people apply to get into our sector than try to leave. And why not? We have virtually no crime. Citizens are safer here than outside the Senate complex. We make sure people have work, that everyone is productive, has purpose. Under the Justicars, Sector 439 has become an oasis of order on a planet in chaos. Are a few guards and walls really such a high price to pay?"
Kira looked like she was going to make a retort. Canlyn stopped her with a gesture.
"If the Republic is satisfied with the current arrangement, then it is not for the Jedi to judge," she said.
Another humorless smile from Baddeg. "Well, if I can't convince you, then I will at least be satisfied with that."
The lift stopped. He ushered them out into a large room, dominated by a simple wooden desk.
"This is my office," he said. "You will find your artifact secured in that box." He pointed to a metal box in the corner. "Feel free to verify its contents while I bring up the appropriate Transfer of Property acknowledgements."
He moved briskly to his desk, seeming no longer interested in them. Canlyn sensed something from Baddeg: Impatience? Perhaps he just was looking forward to them taking the Noetikon and leaving.
She and Kira moved to the box. Canlyn reached for the lid.
A sudden wave of eagerness from Baddeg. Eagerness, tinged with malice. Kira picked up on it at the same instant, cried out: "Canlyn, it's a trap!"
But it was already too late. Canlyn's hand had made contact with the box, and it opened of its own accord.
"Oh, dear," Baddeg said, his voice dripping with malicious glee. "I'm afraid I pointed to the wrong box. That is an artifact recovered from Korriban before the attack. A treasure of the Old Sith Empire. Dreadfully sorry."
His words, and his sense of triumph, were the last real things Canlyn was conscious of. A second later, she and Kira were enveloped by white light and an accompanying electronic whine.
Canlyn closed her eyes, clapped her hands over her ears. It was no use. The light was so intense, the sound so penetrating, that it pierced her defenses and overwhelmed her mind. She could no longer feel the floor, or sense any of her surroundings. All she knew was the light and the noise.
Is this what it feels like to die?
She could sense Kira beside her. They both stared about their surroundings in wonder and dread. They were no longer in the Justicar's office. They were in a white void, with no floor or ceiling visible, no ground or sky. Canlyn probed with her senses, but she felt nothing. No sense of life other than herself and Kira. No sense of place.
As far as she could determine, they were nowhere.
Arkarix Krell had walked all night, following the path the Revanites had set for him. It had first wound through the mountains, then descended into the jungle swamp. Though the creatures shied away from him, the insects paid him no such respect. His face and hands were prickled with tiny bites.
Exhaustion and discomfort, he reflected. Tools to make the weak-minded susceptible to dogma. He would walk for hours with no company save for his buzzing tormentors. But every so often, the path would turn to reveal a Revanite, waiting to preach about the topic of their worship.
A Mandalorian woman, helmeted and in full armor, spoke of Revan as a great soldier who gave the clans the opportunity to test themselves in battle against the Jedi. A Sith scholar reflected on the history that had been hidden, and the sense of achievement from unearthing even the merest scraps of what the Empire had hidden. A Republic soldier talked about loyalty to both the Revanites and the Empire, insisting that the Order might work from the shadows, but that they honored the Empire's ideals.
Mostly, however, Krell just walked, following the path and reflecting on what he had learned.
There was value here, he felt. Not in the ridiculous cult trappings, and certainly not in the worship of this long-dead Jedi-turned-Sith. But Revan's life held valid lessons. From the pieces of history the cult had uncovered, it was clear that he had been a warrior and a leader, someone skilled in persuading various races to fight for his causes. He had not scorned aliens, but had used their strengths to further his ends, allowing them to achieve their potential in the process.
Strength through conflict, Krell mused. If that wasn't the Sith way, then nothing was.
The path finally wound back to the camp, where Dzoun waited patiently.
"You have had a long journey," the old man said. "The Revanites you encountered spoke highly of you. I admit, you have exceeded my expectations."
Krell straightened, doing his best to suppress his excitement. This was why he had come.
"So is that it?" he asked. "Am I… admitted?"
Dzoun smiled, a bit sadly, and beckoned him toward his tent. "Take some tea and bread with me, and we'll talk."
Though Krell felt impatient, the tea and food was welcome after his all-night hike. It was only when he took the first sip that he realized how parched he had become. He could not restrain himself from gulping the entire cup.
"You have questions?" Dzoun asked.
"Several," Krell acknowledged. "Why has this history been suppressed? True, some of Revan's practices might go against current Sith teachings, such as his acceptance of aliens. But even there – Korriban is taking Force sensitives of all species, and those who survive become Sith. So why treat his life as some dark secret?"
"Ah." Dzoun refilled Krell's tea. "Like all great men, Revan made enemies. We know that he came to Dromund Kaas. What happened after that is uncertain, but one thing is clear: At some point, he sought to overthrow the Emperor."
The final piece fell into place. The one truth of all cultures, Krell realized: History is a result of conflict – with the winners ultimately the ones who write it. If Revan had moved against the Emperor, it was no wonder his history had been buried.
"You have but one test remaining," Dzoun said. "When you leave this tent, you will follow the path to the north. It leads to a cave, one suffused with the essence of Darth Revan. We have constructed an altar within. Go, meditate at that altar. There, a vision will be revealed."
"What vision?" Krell asked.
"It is different for each of us," Dzoun said. "Whatever you see, it will be what you need to see."
"And if I see nothing?"
The sad smile returned to Dzoun's face. "Then you will have failed. But from what the others have said, I do not believe that will be the case. Finish your tea, Arkarix Krell, and then go on your final pilgrimage."
All Canlyn could see was white. A blinding white that stung her eyes and made her senses flinch. She felt around herself. There was a floor, or at least a surface supporting her.
Kira's hand clapsed hers. Canlyn squinted, tried to see the padawan. She could only make out the young woman's outline, a wavy haze of darkness. She tried to speak; somehow, even sound was swallowed by the brightness.
"Oh, thank goodness. A visitor. It gets so lonely in here sometimes."
The voice was clear. A woman, young sounding. Canlyn tried to locate its source. All she saw was white.
"My apologies. I forget how limited your species are."
The void remained white and featureless, but the brightness became less harsh. Canlyn could clearly see Kira, now, standing beside her.
A young woman stood opposite them. She looked human: young, pale, with red hair.
"This is not your actual appearance," Canlyn said flatly.
"No." With her senses restored, Canlyn could tell that the voice was actually inside her head. "Still, it's only polite to show you a face, even if that face is a construct."
"Who are you?" Kira asked.
The red-haired woman smiled with amusement. "I am your host. I would offer you a drink, but I ran out a few millennia ago. We could play a game instead."
Canlyn doubted that such a game would be advisable. "What is this place?" she asked.
"That is a good question… but a difficult one. I imagine you activated what looked like some sort of ancient device – a holocron, perhaps? Only something went wrong. You zigged where you should have zagged, and you ended up here."
"How do we get out?" Kira demanded. Canlyn could hear her frustration.
The red-haired woman grew more amused. "Well, I could let you go." A child, playing spitefully with a trapped insect. "But I get so bored. So let's make it interesting. Play a game with me. A game of questions. If you win, you can go back to where you came from."
"And if we lose?" Canlyn kept her voice neutral.
"Then you will stay and keep me company forever. Or at least until I get bored with you." The girl's sweet smile made the threat somehow even more chilling.
There was no choice, Canlyn saw. If they refused the game, then they were stuck here in any case. "Very well. Let's proceed."
The girl clapped her hands together with excitement. "Excellent. Such an accommodating guest." Then her expression turned serious. "First question. How do you catch an answer?"
Canlyn didn't even have to pause. "With a question, of course." A basic logic exercise, taught to younglings in their first months of instruction. Perhaps this game wouldn't be such a trial after all.
The girl sighed. "It's no fun when you get the answer right. Next question: What does the wise person know?"
More advanced, but still fairly basic. "The wise person does not know. The wise person recognizes what they do not know and seeks knowledge, always."
"Another right answer." The girl stamped her foot in frustration. "You are so dull! No matter…"
The girl turned her back a moment, as if collecting her thoughts. When she faced Canlyn again, her expression was intense, even fierce.
"Last question. Soon this place will be overrun with enemies. What will you do?"
Kira crouched into a combat stance. Canlyn remained calm, however. This was another test, like the Jedi test of the grove. The test where the enemy you faced was only the one you brought with you.
"No one is here but us," she said. "Any enemies will be illusions, and illusions cannot…"
"NO!" Kira cried.
The red-haired girl's lips had been settling into a smirk. Now she seemed startled, as Kira pushed past Canlyn to impose her own answer.
"Who are the enemies?" Kira asked sharply. "What are their weaknesses? Where will they attack from?"
The girl backed away. "Please, no! I don't want to be alone - !" She was cut off by the bright white, flaring again in intensity.
When it receded, Canlyn and Kira were back in Lars Baddeg's office, standing by the false Noetikon.
Canlyn had no idea how much time had passed. Not much, she guessed. Baddeg was still here, his back to them as he spoke on his holo-communicator.
"The Jedi won't be a problem anymore," Baddeg was speaking to a figure in a black robe and cowl. No features visible, but Canlyn could sense his malevolence even through the link. "Now, is your Master ready to pay for the Noetikon?"
"He might have been." The mystery man seemed to be laughing at Baddeg. "Unfortunately, your plan has failed."
The man looked over Baddeg's shoulder. The Justicar turned, reacted with astonishment.
"What?" He gaped at Canlyn and Kira. "You're alive? How?"
"You win this round, Jedi." The holo-figure said, ignoring Baddeg entirely. "But the Noetikons aren't enough to stop me or my Master."
A Sith. Canlyn could feel his darkness. Even though she couldn't see his face through his cowl, she could sense his amusement. A malicious glee so like that of the red-haired girl in the trap. It made her angry.
"You and your Master are irrelevant!" she snapped. "We will cure Yuon Par!"
"It's too late. She crumbles as we speak." The Sith glanced back at Baddeg. "What are you waiting for? Earn my Master's forgiveness: Kill this wretch."
The Sith waved a hand, and the transmission ended.
Baddeg reached for the weapon holstered across his back.
"I don't think so," Kira said. She made a single gesture, and the gun flew across the room into her hand.
Baddeg raised his hands. "I surrender."
"Where is the real Noetikon?" Canlyn asked. "No tricks this time."
Baddeg pointed to a compartment. Kira kept the gun on him while Canlyn pulled out a box, very similar to the one that had sprung the trap.
She walked to the far side of the room, so that Kira would not be entangled if it was a second trap. She felt her own heart pounding as she opened the container. Caught her breath as she stared down into it.
"It's real," she told Kira. "We have the Noetikon."