Knight of the Watch, Part Three

by ArchPsion

Now the reluctant mentor of a boy set on becoming a Jedi in a galaxy controlled by the Empire, Darion Helion is hired to help a group known as the Hidden Path to escape capture by the Inquisitorious. But a mysterious Inquisitor known as the Huntsman is closing in

Knight of the Watch, Part Three: The Hunt

I do not own Star Wars. It is property of Disney and its overlord Mickey Mouse.

Xxx

Part Three: The Hunt, Chapter One

Inner Rim, Japrael Sector, Onderon, City of Anu

"Another check point?" Darion Helion asked, keeping his tone light so as to filter out any inflections that could be interpreted as aggressive or seditious to anyone listening. "Boy, did we pick the worst time to travel."

Like all cities on Onderon, Anu was walled to keep out the more dangerous wildlife. While not as grand as Iziz, it was still a major hub for farmers and freighters alike. But it was supposed to be far enough out of the way that the only nearby Imperial garrison, placed there more as checking a box than establishing a serious military presence, would only make rounds every few hours to wave the flag and stamp down on any obvious signs of disloyalty. But instead of a quick check by local police he'd found himself faced with a force field blocking entry and a platoon of Imperial Army grunts checking everyone who went in, creating a bottleneck that stretched back across the bridge and several hundred meters beyond.

And much to his dismay was the reason behind why it was so backed up, as he'd discovered upon reaching the front.

The Imps were actually being thorough.

Give him incompetent, lazy and arrogant Imperials who never think to consider countryfolk as a legitimate threat. Give him officers who were weak minded enough that a quick mind trick could get him through. Give him those who embodied the worst and most stereotypical aspects of the Empire.

But Force forbid you give him an officer with integrity and a well oiled machine of a unit under their command.

"Let that be an example to anyone who thinks that they can compromise the security of Anu with a fistful of credits!" A young Imperial officer snapped as the recently detained culprit of bribery was led away in binders, their speeder opened up to reveal contraband hidden under seemingly legitimate cargo. "This is not the Galactic Republic. In his Majesty's Imperial Army, we have integrity!"

He turned and nodded sharply. "Sergeant!"

"Sir."

"Carry on!" The officer barked before storming away towards the gatehouse.

With a weary sigh, the Sergeant waved the next handful of travellers forward. "Next!"

Darion stepped forward. "Good day." He said with a smile and held up his chaincode- forged, of course.

"Any goods to declare?" A private far less motivated than his CO asked.

"Not a one."

"Purpose?"

Darion hoped that Vasaro would pick up on this next part.

"Travelling to the Imperial Junior Training College on Anaxes." At his side, the young boy tensed up as he registered the obvious lie before Darion covered it by clapping a hand down on the boy's shoulder. "My little brother here is interested in getting an early start to a military career."

This got the private's attention, making him raise both brows behind his tinted visor. "Oh? Well, that's a pretty good career path." He was putting on a tone of false sincerity, clearly knowing that if any of his fellow soldiers heard him react with anything less than a glowing endorsement of the JTC he'd catch flak from his patriotic CO later on in the form of some punishment tasking. "Good on you, lad. Which branch are you aiming for?"

Vasaro swallowed. "U-uh…"

Don't stay starfighter corps.

"Stormtrooper!" He blurted out.

"Eh, of course." The private checked off a couple more things on his datapad. "We all want to go that route. Few of the boys just got back from applying to training for that."

"How'd it go?" Darion asked conversationally, feeling the man's attention waver as he kept checking off things that he shouldn't have...

"Well they won't give the full story, but I kept hearing something about 'couldn't see straight'." The private shrugged before his datapad lit up green, reflecting that he'd conducted a half dozen checks that never happened. "Alright step through the scanner. And hey, good luck to you lad."

"Thank you, sir!" Vasaro piped up as he and Darion stepped forward.

"Word of warning: don't call us grunts 'sir' when you get in." The private chuckled.

"Why?" Vasaro asked, looking over his shoulder

"Because we work for a living!" Another soldier manning the scanner station cackled and waved them on through, with Vasaro going first.

Just as expected, the scanner picked up nothing of note. But the sentry manning it never noticed a small object floating just a couple inches above ground, circling around the outside of his station and meeting up with Vasaro on the far side. Darion joined him quickly and they were let through a gap in the force field that appeared just long enough for them to step beyond.

Darion allowed himself to exhale, a trickle of sweat finally working its way down from his hairline. "Man, I'm glad that officer stepped away. He probably would have noticed something."

"Why would he?" Vasaro asked as they crossed the plasma beyond the city gates where vendors and farmers bartered and great bests of burden were tethered to drink and rest. "He just seemed up-tight."

"That's the problem most people don't recognize. That guy was serious about his work, and that kind of focus means he's harder to fool or influence without being noticed." Darion explained, keeping his voice down now. "He would've noticed how I nudged that first trooper to skip most of the searches. Or how I had them all lower their guard."

"You were using the…" Vasaro mouthed the word 'Force'."…on all of them at the same time? No hand waves?"

"Somatic gestures help you focus with some abilities." Darion admitted, falling into 'lecture mode'. "Like a shoving or pulling gesture. That hand wave is meant to appear dismissive because you're trying to make someone dismiss something they know to be true or untrue and accept whatever you tell them. Some Jedi didn't need to do that."

"Like who?" Vasaro asked.

"Well…first obvious answer would be Grandmaster Yoda." Darion felt a fond smile tug at his lips.

For all the disagreements that he and the Watch held with the Jedi Order, he could never be mad at the little green gremlin, nor deny that he was one of if not the most powerful Force wielder that Darion had ever known.

"Another would be…" He made sure to lower his voice to a bare whisper. "Skywalker."

"You mean…that Skywalker?" Vasaro's eyes widened a little. "I heard so much about him."

Yes, Confederate propaganda about the Hero with no Fear had been all the rage back in the day.

"Yeah, that one." Darion shrugged while turning into an alley with Vasaro. "His right arm…it got cut off past the elbow. Day one of the war on Geonosis. By Count Dooku no less. He fought with a prosthetic ever since, still made the same hand gestures from what I saw of footage of him. But think on this: did he need to do it with his fake hand, or was that just what he was accustomed to doing?"

While Vasaro chewed on that revelation in silence, they came to a door at the end of the alley guarded by a pair of masked men doing obvious poses meant to intimidate. One uncrossed his arms and stepped up from where he'd been leaning against the wall next to the door and held up one hand in a halting motion.

"You lost?" They asked.

"Expected." Darion answered. "By your boss."

The thug standing further back raised one hand to the side of their helmet and conversed silently for several seconds while the other kept the way barred with one hand hovering close to where they had to be concealing a blaster. Finally their partner tapped the side of their own helmet twice, and the man stepped back out of the way while the door slid open.

Down a short flight of stairs, they came to a hole in the wall cantina that was presently closed, attended to only by cleaning droids and a bartender mounted to a track. The guards waved it off as its single red eye locked onto the newcomers, and led Darion and Vasaro through to a back office where a Weequay in immaculate robes was partaking of strong spirits while observing a holo-news segment.

"Ah, Renegade." He set his glass down and turned off the broadcast. "Come in, come in."

Darion unveiled a data card which he set on the desk and slid over. "One decrypted list of Imperial pass codes, good for the next three months if your boys don't mess up and tip the Imps off."

"For such a prize I'd whip them myself if they wasted it." The Weequay dismissed his guards and slid a stack of credits across to Darion. "Your payment, with the promised bonus. My compliments to you for managing to avoid raising alarm."

Darion swept the credits up and stowed them. "Looking forward to working with you again, Magister."

"Actually." The Weequay raised his hand quickly. "On that topic…I have…well, I don't have a job for you but someone else does. Someone who'd heard you and your charge were in the system and passed your name through my network. They didn't give details, but they promised a fee to whoever puts you in contact."

That was not a good sign in Darion's eyes. Someone going out of their way to contact him meant one of two things: they had bad news, or they were the bad news.

Vasaro picked up on his wariness. "Even if they didn't say who they are or why they want to talk to Mr Helion, do you know anything about them, Magister?" He asked. "I mean…since you're an information broker yourself."

"Ah, wise child." The Magister nodded. "Yes, I know a little of this interested party. Though only by their aliases, of which they have many. I daresay they are more paranoid than me when it comes to keeping under the radar."

Darion's eyes hardened. "Architect."

"Ah yes, that is one of them." The Magister admitted. "I have a secure holo-relay if you'd like to talk to him now."

He should have rejected that notion entirely. The last time he took a job from that puppet master it cost Yvak Curyme his life and left Vasaro an orphan!

"Mr Helion?" He felt Vasaro grasp his hand. "I think we should hear him out."

"You're kidding me." Darion grimaced. "You know what he did the last time."

"Yes, but this time he knows I'm still with you." Vasaro explained. "I can get him talking to you, but…."

But if he was willing to call them up, knowing that the boy he'd made into an orphan would likely be within earshot, then it had to be important.

"At the very least we can reject him soundly and end it there." Vasaro reasoned. "Otherwise he might keep asking around for us wherever we go."

Sometimes he hated how mature this boy was for his age.

"Fine." Darion relented. "We'll hear out that-"

Xxx

"-filthy, arrogant sleemo son of a Hutt!" Darion growled at the shrouded image of the Architect. "You seriously think that I'd ever do work for you after what you caused the last time?"

"What happened last time was a result of poor luck, Mr Helion." They responded, unflinching in the face of what they knew to be an ex-Jedi burdened with the temptations of giving into his darker emotions and demonstrating whether or not the old tales of Jedi being able to affect people light years away through a holo-call were true. "And it accomplished what I wished for, save for Senator Curyme's death. I have no further reason to take risks like I did on that mission."

"You say that, yet I still feel your latest knife sharpening at my back." Darion circled the emitter table the Magister had set aside for them.

"I can't tell if he's lying or not." Vasaro was giving the Architect a stony glare. "I think that's the worst part. His mind is too well guarded…or I might have felt something the last time he spoke to my dad."

"I am sorry for what befell your father, Vasaro." The Architect bowed their head. "But the fight against the Empire still goes on. Do you both think that I make the decisions I do because I derive pleasure from manipulating others? Do you think that I am in this fight on a whim?"

"I sure didn't see you storming that prison ship to free us." Vasaro pointed out.

"Not all off us fight on the same front. And before you downplay my own part in this battle, I ask that you both consider that the Empire continuing to prosper while its enemies flounder is only bad news for you." The Architect argued. "And if you will but hear what I have to say, you will agree."

"I wouldn't accept it if it had a reasonable shot of putting Palpatine's head on a platter." Darion muttered.

"A group called the Hidden Path has sprung up, but not enough for the Empire to put a name to it, only to its activities." The Architect crossed their arms, their mouth twitching upwards in a way that indicated anticipation. "They smuggle Jedi and other Force sensitives out of the Empires reach, and they've been asking for your help ever since words spread about our last arranged mission."

"The Hidden Path…" Vasaro murmured. "I've never heard of that."

"That's the point, lad." The Arhitect looked to Darion. "They don't know about you. Who you really are. They just know you went up against the Inquisition and got away with a Force sensitive child. In their eyes, that makes you qualified. I'm only the middleman on this one."

A group of people willingly endangering themselves…to help Jedi? The galaxy had turned its back on the Order, many even celebrating the slaughter of his old family. But he supposed that there would still be those who remembered the jedi fondly, or had family and friends who had an affinity for the Force and would wish to protect them from being snatched away in the night over something they were born with.

"They know where other Jedi would be." Vasaro looked up in excitement. "What if…what if they know where my mom went? I know it's a long shot but…but maybe-"

"Maybe." Darion agreed."…which is why I'll hear you out on this. But if you play me like you did the last time…I will find you."

"Knowing your background, I actually believe that." The Architect conceded. "I might be good, but there's a line between good and reckless enough to go out of my way to antagonize someone of your persuasion, Mr Helion. Rest assured, I won't be so foolish."

Xxx

Renegade Star, Hyperspace

"One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six." Vasaro recited, carrying his body through the motions that he had become acquainted with over the last several weeks.

"One." Head.

"Two." Right side.

"Three." Left side.

"Four." Back.

"Five." Right leg.

"Six." Left leg.

He held in his hands a simply carved stick that had been his training sword, to help him get back into the rhythm of sabre training. While Anaris had taught him well, time on the run had dulled what little experience he had built up. Darion needing to maintain the ship in transit cut into time that could be used for refreshers, but he had left Vasaro with simple routines to follow to help build muscle memory.

Now he could practically do this with his eyes closed.

In fact: he was.

"One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six-" He gasped as a hand closed around the stick and another clamped down on his shoulder.

"One thing to remember about being a Jedi." Darion chastised as he released the boy. "Is to maintain awareness of your surroundings, no matter what you're doing or how busy you are. If you become too fixated on what is in front of you, you fail to detect the threats beyond your sight."

"Yes ma- yes Mr Helion." The boy was quick to display respect for him the same way he had Anaris, but they'd talked about how little Darion desired to be treated as his Jedi master when he himself had never even been a Jedi Knight.

"That said….your form is impressive." Darion continued, hands folded behind his back now as the boy stood at attention. "Not the best for your age group, but given how much time you lost while on the run you've recovered remarkably. I think we can push you to the next stage."

Vasaro inhaled and suppressed a smile at this. "What is that, Mr Helion?"

"For one…giving you a real training weapon."

Darion held something up that made Vasaro's eyes widen in shock. "Is that a- a lightsaber?!"

The hilt was cumbersome compared to his mother's lightsaber, with a wide guard forming a protective dome over the wielder's hand.

"Close." Darion flicked a switch on it and a telescopic section unfolded itself to the length of a typical blade before being sheathed in a humming field of magenta energy. "This is called a Training Sabre. Throughout the history of the Order, Padawans who had not yeet earned their lightsaber but found themselves in the field would wield these. It can deflect blaster bolts, and with enough effort it can kill. But unlike a true lightsaber a light graze won't be fatal or crippling, and the safety settings can be tuned to reduce the risk."

He folded it back shut and held the hilt out to Vasaro. "This is what you'll train with, and for today's lesson we're going to apply everything you've been relearning." As the boy eagerly accepted it with a bow of his head Darion resumed his previous posture. "Did Anaris tell you of the seven Lightsaber forms?"

"No, but he did tell me of the first one a bit." Vasaro shook his head. "The…She-Sho?"

"Shi-Cho." Darion corrected. "The Determination Form. Way of the Sarlaac. It predates the Jedi Order itself, along with lightsabers, from an age when the Jedi wielded swords. But its teachings and simplicity carried through to the end of the Clone Wars…and through you, beyond that."

He revealed a second training sabre and flicked his wrist as he extended it to full length. "Show me the six zones."

Vasaro took a breath and held his training sabre with both hands, igniting it and going through the same motions, the two blades buzzing and crackling lightly as they struck. "One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six."

"Head. Right. Left. Back. Right. Left." Darion said in tandem with him. "Do you notice anything about these zones? Again."

"Most of them don't go for the chest exactly." Vasaro answered, rehearsing the strikes once more. "They aim more for the head or limbs."

"Form-I was intended to be taught in a way that encourages disarming your opponent. With broad, sweeping strikes you can take on and disarm multiple shooters at close range. One master, Kit Fisto, even managed to utilize a two-bladed variant in fending off General Grievous during the war." The General had tried his best to bury that report, but the Knights of the Watch had their ways to acquire hidden information. "This is taught to all younglings, but later on you decide for yourself how you wish to shape into a warrior. You might even take after Master Fisto and favour this one."

"What are the other other six like?" Vasaro asked, his movements more fluid while Darion was effortlessly batting them away with one hand.

"Each has their own strengths and weaknesses. The second, Makashi, was more elegant and created for lightsabers but didn't really account for blasters, though some like Count Jan Dooku overcame this shortcoming. Nonetheless, they made the third, Soresu, which emphasized defensive motions that minimize the use of energy; but it was too defensive unless you were able to master it enough to know when and how to strike perfectly, like one Obi-Wan Kenobi. The fourth, Ataru, was too aggressive and relied on a lot of flipping and jumping, which not every Jedi was built for- though some who were naturally smaller like Grand Master Yoda put it to great use. So the fifth one, with two variants, was developed more for heavy combat; one for facing blades, the other for blasters. The sixth was made so as to have no inherent weaknesses…but in doing so it had no inherent strong points either."

"And the seventh?" Vasaro was beginning to breath a little heavier now, putting more effort into his swings as the repetitions dragged on.

"That one…wasn't made by Jedi." Darion sighed. "It was made by our ancient enemies: the Sith. I'll teach you of it one day, if only to remove the mystery and mystique around it, but you're still training in the first form."

He back stepped as Vasaro overreached on a swing towards his right leg and positioned his training saber to catch the clumsy swing. Then with a flick of his wrist Darion slipped his blade out of the way and hooked it under Vasaro's. As the boy tried to adjust to the resistance against his swing vanishing his weapon was forced up and flipped out of his hand, the safety kicking in so that it harmlessly bounced off of the ceiling and was caught in Darion's outstretched hand.

"And you still have a long way to go on it." He added, returning the training sabre. "Keep this hidden with your mom's belongings. Even an old antique like that would draw Imperial eyes if they found it."

"Yes Mr Helion!" Lightly winded from the short spar, Vasaro nodded and held the training sabre hilt close to his chest.

"Training is done for the day, go clean up." Darion dismissed him and made for the cockpit. "Then get some warm clothes. The place we're going is supposed to be pretty brisk."

The boy hurried to obey the instructions while Reggie warbled out a laugh from the cockpit airlock.

"I'm not going to sabotage his training." Darion replied. "I might not…support his decision, but I'd rather he learned the basics from someone with experience so he doesn't get himself killed trying to teach himself."

The astromech clearly didn't believe him, and made this known as it followed him to the cockpit.

"Well, if this goes as planned…he'll have someone better suited to teach him anyways." Darion sat down and watched as the timer dialled down the last minute before the ship would exit hyperspace. "This Hidden Path has to have at least one Knight among them with more experience than me. Or at least more motivation."

The spiralling tunnel of hyperspace gave way and the Renegade Star dropped out over a world that was a mixture of white and green. Tyrakhan was an outer rim world that was lightly settled before the Clone Wars for resource exploitation purposes, thus it only had a handful of cities by the time the war had ended. The Empire kept those cities and their factories running, just another world plundered for everything of worth to feed the Imperial war machine.

Luckily the Imperial presence was light. No Star Destroyers in sight, but a number of patrol groups made up of Gozantis surrounding Arquitens class cruisers. There was also a single Acclamator that served as the local flagship for this system's defence force, but it was out on patrol in the outer planets according to the holonet.

Darion transmitted falsified credentials provided by the Architect upon being prompted and then followed the landing instructions given by traffic control. As he began re-entry he was joined once moe by his young passenger/crewmate.

"Mr Helion…can I ask you something?" Vas slid into the copilot chair.

"That's one question down, but I'll give you a free second question." Darion cracked a half smile.

"Why haven't you…used the Force since Tarthion?" Vas asked. "I mean…you used it for little things, but I haven't seen you use it to lift anything besides me."

Somehow, he'd known this would eventually come up; it was somehow fitting that it would be now.

"Vas…" Darion sighed. "…do you know what the Force is?"

"It's an energy field that surrounds us, inhabits us, and brings life and harmony to the galaxy." Vas recited.

"Correct…but it's also got a dark side to it." Darion reminded him. "And it has a will of its own."

He could feel those cold, clawed hands already. The whispers, the accusing glares…the fire and ash around him. He could smell the charred flesh and scorched wood, hear the hissing of steam escaping from trees and logs.

"A long time ago…I was hurt in a way that stuck with me." Darion confessed without going into the finer details. "The pain, the anguish…it made that wound take on a life of its own. Whenever I use the Force, I feel like I'm back there on the very day I was hurt. For smaller things it's easier to ignore but for something like lifting you…it drags me back there. The dark side feeds off of that fear and pain I feel, and it becomes a struggle to not give into it. And with the bond that formed between us in the Force, that very same darkness could reach you through me if I am not diligent. That's why I avoid using it unless I need to."

The boy regretted asking now, Darion knew as much. "I'm…I'm sorry I asked."

"Don't be." Darion said gently. "Vas, sometimes…difficult questions need to be asked. Hard truths need to be confronted. If we were all too scared to ask for answers, to seek the truth, many good things would never happen and many evil things that were prevented would have come to pass."

They were now plunging down through the cloud cover and emerged over. White and grey city in the shape of a circle that was carved out amidst a mountainous terrain with turbolift tram tracks and pipelines stretching out in all directions.

"Here it is. Tyra City." Darion brought them in towards the Star Port. "Let's go meet our new friends."

Xxx

Their contacts met them in the guise of a ground crew coming to inspect their ship. They came wearing masks and overalls while their leader impersonated a supervisor in order to have an excuse to get in close to Darion to show him the contents of a datapad he was holding- allegedly some obstructive paperwork for the benefit of the security monitors.

"Vance Buur-Hal." The man said gruffly after they exchanged pass codes. "Pleased to meet you, Renegade."

"Likewise." Darion nodded. "You're my contact?"

"Local cell commander." Vance clarified. "We're packing up shop in this city and moving out to the rally point." He broke off to try and fail to convince Darion to spring for the premium parking package. "We just have one snag. Last group we're expected to pick up got diverted by a randomized inspection bylaw that our glorious governor put into power last week."

"Where were they sent?" Darion asked.

"Still in the retention yard with the other major shipping containers. The problem is that the Imperials will inspect it." Vance emphasized, and after shouting at one of the workers to not tangle the fuel lines, lowered his voice while showing Darion a general layout of the retention yard where countless commercial crates were stacked. "There's ten souls in that crate. We need them out of there."

"Easier said than done." Darion masked the fact that he had several ways to locate the right crate. "Pardon me for being suspicious, but if I might ask…what convinces someone to help Jedi to evade the Empire? And exactly what happens after I get your wayward refugees?"

"Some of us have family in the Inquisitors' sight, some of us are in their sights. Me…I have a sister." Vance explained. "We do everything we can to get them off the grid. Into the Outer Rim, Wild Space…anywhere that they can lay low for the long term. This group we're moving…it's the first big one, bigger than what I'd like because that means they're harder to keep hidde . But that's the way the chips dropped, so we're doing what we can. Once we get them off world, my whole cell goes with them. One way trip to a safe haven that's uncharted."

Admirable and understandable. If this safe haven was off the charts entirely, going dark once they got there and leaving nobody behind who could lead the way there was as good a guarantee as they could get that the Empire wouldn't one day follow them. They would be safe…

So would Vas if he went with them.

"Alright. Point me to this last group you need to collect." Darion nodded.

"We were able to narrow down the location it was dropped in at the southeastern quadrant." Vance traced a circle over the area with one finger. "Get them out, get them moving to the nearest tram line heading north. We'll have people who can pick them up once they're away from the city."

"Sounds easy enough." Darion nodded and then glared at Vance while snatching the datapad. "I said 'fine' already! Fierfek, you're pushy." He pretended to sign his signature and shoved it back into Vance's chest, whispering to him. "Any signs that the Empire knows?"

"None that we've seen." Vance backed up with a placating gesture. "Alright. Thank you sir! Have a pleasant stay." He hurried away from the landing pad.

"Vas." Darion cocked his head to one side. "We're going to work. Bring everything, even the sabre and the Holocron." He addressed the puzzlement in the boy's expression. "We might be gone a while. I don't like leaving those around if the Imps randomly decide to inspect my ship."

And for all he knew Vasaro might not be returning to the ship at all…better safe than sorry.

"And also…grab a case from the arms locker." Darion added. "The one labelled 'K-1'."

Even better to be guaranteed of safety when there might be someone swinging around a lightsaber and disinclined to trust that he was there to help.

Xxx

End of Chapter