Chapter 56

Arratak – The Dividing Cliff

"So, where exactly did you say we were going?", Caloc asked. "And before you answer, I know that you already said that it was the only spaceport on Arratak, but does it have a name?"

He, Deesix and Runtan were standing on the edge of a small rope bridge that crossed a section of split ground. The crack that expanded across the ground was about twelve metres in length. The rope bridge had originally been about eight. Just on the other side of the bridge, the ground disappeared. It just fell out of existence.

Runtan crossed the bridge with practiced ease, hanging close to the right. "We call it Mal Torgo."

He followed her movements, hanging to the right and trying to move quickly. It didn't help that he needed to lug Deesix over his shoulder again. The circular sheet of his starfighter's hull was already strung across his back, and it made him feel very unbalanced. They made it across unscathed, and he peered over the edge of the cliffs. About 2 kilometres down was a hut built into the side of the sheer rock. It seemed secure, and was very well-built for a ramshackle building. "It's just… well, is that Mal Torgo? I don't see the spaceport."

She rolled her eyes at his retort. "That is my home, Caloc."

He snorted a laugh, "Thank goodness, I wasn't sure how you expected to find a ship… here…"

The words died in his throat. The hut below him; he recognised that shape. Half buried in the sheer stone wall was… a ship. It looked like it a flat blade with the cockpit fixed onto the left side. He recognised that ship's unique design from his months stuck inside the Temple studying boring history. It was a H-60 Tempest Bomber, an older model of the H-79 Bomber used by the Republic Navy about a decade ago. The bomber's wreckage supported the bulk of the building, being the foundation for the structure.

"You crashed here.", Caloc breathed out. The mystery of Runtan Tanrad was becoming clearer. But there were still so many questions. He asked the first that he thought of. "How many years ago?"

"I have been here on Arratak for nearly twenty years.", Runtan replied after a second of staring, "In three weeks, I will once more mourn my Master's passing."

"Who was your master?", he asked.

Runtan didn't answer. Instead she leaned over a clump of bushes and grabbed a cable hidden amongst the rocks. Swinging herself over the edge, she slid down the cable and onto the balcony, landing deftly. Caloc followed a little slower, with Deesix happily humming a familiar tune against his shoulders. Was that the song he and Ahsoka used to sing? How did Deesix know that tune?

He looked around the room. It was completely man-made, the stonework was entirely melted out and sculpted into a sizable room. Pieces of the H-60 could be seen scattered about the area, serving as chairs, light fixtures, and other small appliances. He spotted four of the large cogs for the main drive engine holding up the Varactyl-down mattress. The pilot's chair had been pried from the cockpit and now stood before a work bench.

There were also a few bits and pieces from the surrounding landscape. Small trees were potted about the room, and so were small rows of the purple flowers he had seen growing while they trekked. There were also a few mineral deposits scattered about, a few crystals and even a couple of metal scraps being tweaked into heat generators. A clump of unpure iron ore hung as a weight to let the door open and close automatically.

His instincts forced him to catch a jogan just before it slapped into his face, but he still blinked at it with surprise. Runtan chuckled at him, "Eat. You've been surviving on ration balls and jerky for the past few days, kid. You need something nutritious."

"Thanks.", Caloc bit into the fruit, savouring the taste of the custardy juices.

She turned away from him and began to unpack and repack her bags, "Can you grab some of gear in the back? Should just need some of the heat generators and a canvas wrap for the walk into town. Maybe grab a tube of repellent too if you find one. Insects are a big problem in the Slums."

He found the back room with ease. The carved stone passageway was hidden behind a rock that was locked in place with a series of gears and pulleys. A majority of the species on the planet would find it difficult to open. For Caloc, it was simple. He focussed with the Force and moved each individual piece one-by-one until it slid aside, nestled into a wall cavity. Behind the door was a two-metre long passage that ended in a small room. The room held a few beat-up cabinets that had probably come from a landfill, a stone masonry area, and a few scattered tools for fixing circuitry. Four shelves had also been excavated from the walls, burnt out like the rooms with the heat of a lightsaber. A single illumination panel blinked to life from the ceiling, responding to Caloc's presence. He walked over to the cabinets and began to rifle through them until he found the requested items. One heat generator, and one canvas tent.

It was only when he stood up that he saw what else was hiding in the room. In the shadows around the corners of the room, there was a makeshift mannequin which held a set of ornate Jedi robes. They were coloured white and dark grey, with several geometric designs printed across them in black. The belt had two clips for lightsabres, he noticed. His eyes wandered to the wall beside the robes, where he noticed two things. The first was hanging from a chain suspended on a nail driven into the wall. It was the battered datachip that would have fit into a C1-series astromech droid. Just below it, two struts that would have held up the body of an astromech of the same design. It had probably been Runtan's personal astromech from the Temple. Datachips were nearly indestructible, and they could survive more damage than the astromech' outer shell. However, without a body to put the chip into, it had just been worthless scrap. Next to the chip, sitting proudly in one of the selves, was the melted and dusty form of a lightsabre hilt. Caloc frowned at it. Something about the design was familiar.

"Did you find the canvas wrap…", Runtan's voice had come from the doorway, but it trailed off, replaced by the sound of igniting lightsabres. "What are you doing?"

"This was your droid's, wasn't it?", he reached up to touch the datachip, but stopped short, instead reaching over to the damaged hilt. "And this… I thought it might belong to your Master, but it looks almost identical to the one you use as a shoto. This was your original blade?"

Her voice cracked with emotion as she spoke, coloured with protective rage. The buzz of her blades moved closer. "That is none of your business."

He nodded, and his hands fell to his side. A deep thrum echoed through the air as Runtan's golden blade raised up and prepared for their downward attack.

ZAP!

The sound filled the room, and Runtan went instantly ridged. He body convulsed for a minute, then slumped sideways to the floor. The two lightsaber's dissipated and clattered to the floor. Behind her, R4-D6 stood silently, his arc-welder still extended and sparking with electricity. Thankfully, the jolt had only been enough to stun Runtan, not kill her or drive her to unconsciousness. She rolled over and growled at the droid.

"Do not touch that blade, boy."

He wrapped the melted old hilt in his hand regardless. "This may be helpful. Deesix, do you still have my hilt?"

The droid's dome shot to him in surprise, followed by a beeping drone that almost sounded guilty.

"Yes, I know you have it.", the padawan replied, amused by the droid antics, but impatient with the delay, "Pass it here, please."

Deesix's storage compartment opened and his manipulator extended the lightsaber to his Master. As soon as Caloc held his damaged weapon, he could sense it. The melted hilt had everything that could help heal his own weapon. He turned to Runtan and sat with legs crossed. The two lightsabres were carefully placed on the ground before him. She glared at him, her expression more pained than angry.

"I have another lightsabre.", he began. "On my first big mission, I held it as well as this blade. It was not mine, but I had been allowed to use it during my Trials and kept it afterwards. Master Yoda permitted it personally. Unfortunately, it got damaged, and as result, I got injured. Once I had healed, I told myself that I would never get hurt again. Turns out that was a lie. I was nearly crushed to death by a cavern on Devaron."

"Slaith's tomb.", she growled. "It's been destroyed?"

He nodded. "Most of it, in any event. I believe that was my first brush with my shatterpoint ability."

"I'm glad that place of evil is destroyed.", Runtan lowered her head. A sliver of her anger dissipated.

Caloc got the sense that they would get off topic if he didn't steer them back. "I continue to keep my damaged hilt. Even now, it is wrapped up in my satchel. Hopefully my Master is holding onto it. Do you know why I keep it?"

"It was part of your biggest failure."

It was not a question. He knew it would not be. Runtan knew because Runtan had held onto her original blade for the exact same reason. Failure was not something a Jedi prepared for. When it occurred, it was like a punch to the gut.

Caloc reached over and gently pried Runtan's two lightsabres from her hands. He was somewhat surprised that she did not try and stop him. How much voltage had Deesix stunned her with? He placed the one that looked similar to the melted blade beside it, then studied the other. "Who was he? Your Master?"

She didn't answer, and he knew why. The memory was her shatterpoint. He could see it now, plain as day. Bringing this up could either strengthen her, or crush her.

The hilt was longer than her own, heavily balanced in the base by a series of Calacori rings. The grip was made from an old speeder bike handle, and he sensed that Runtan had replaced it when the original grip had been damaged. Higher up the hilt, a solid gold piece of metal arced up from the emitter, poking out the top like a guide. Hanging from the base was a single small charm, an Irodian sapphire.

There was only one world those gems came from. Lootori, a world colonised by… "He was a Caphex."

Runtan let out a long breath through her nostrils before she spoke. "His name was Nikil Nobel. He was indeed one of the most infuriating Caphex I have ever known."

"Then he was like a father to you.", Again, it wasn't a statement. Caloc felt the same kind of parental connection with Stass. She infuriated him, and he frustrated her, but they cared for each other enough to break even the most enforced rules when required.

"He was like a father.", she repeated, with the same emotionless tone he had heard from those Stass mind touched.

He waited for her to continue, but when she didn't, he asked, "What happened?"

She took another, more laboured breath. "It started when the Mining Guild and the Trade Federation started pressing into territories they were banned from. My Master and I were deployed with the Second Fleet, under Commander Zeetra."

"The Second Fleet under Zeetra?", Caloc mutterered quietly, "That fleet disappeared from all records. Almost everything was redacted."

Rutan nodded slowly, "That was because we were lured out there. The Trade Federation had just blockaded Naboo and been defeated. They were looking for another source of instant income. We were deployed to find the interim Viceroy, Clarin Vex. During the mission, Commander Tunrad got word of the Mining Guild pressing into the Vooratu Sector. We changed course..."

Caloc searched his memories for the pages he had read while recovering from Devaron. According to records, the original Second Fleet had been wiped out. A fleet of five Maedeli-class battleships, the predecessor of both the Acclamator and the Venator, had suddenly vanished from their intended flight path to Felucia. It was called an accidental hyperspace malfunction. But if they had been lured elsewhere… that meant something far more sinister.

"They were destroyed.", Runtan spat out, venom deep in her tone. "The Mining Guild destroyed us."

That… didn't feel right. The Mining Guild had authority and power. They had a large fleet, certainly. But they didn't have heavily armed warships. Their ships were mostly either freighters or frigates that transferred the product between worlds, or to superfrieghters. Small weapons systems and light missile launchers were added to any Mining Guild ship, but no heavy defence weapons were fixed to the hull. The largest ship he knew in their assortment was a repurposed Lucrehulk-class freighter that they had bought from the Trade Federation and stripped of weapons systems to make room for more mined ore. The idea that a ship from the Mining Guild could take out a fleet was unimaginable.

"I was sleeping when we dropped from hyperspace. We had arrived near a nebula. I don't know which, but according to NIkil we couldn't use our heavy cannons because of it. Only laser defences and a few starships that fell quickly to the onslaught.", Runtan closed her eyes, emersed in memory. "I only saw three ships outside when the engines were taken out. Modified CT-93 bulkfreighters. To this day, I can't stand seeing those ships in the sky."

Caloc was familiar with the freighters. They were built by the Corellian Engineering Corporation and sold exclusively to the Mining Guild. The spacious cargo holds and numerous laser turret defences meant that many pirate crews often tried to add them to their own fleets. However, they were normally driven away easily, thanks to both the modular design of the ships and the heavy armaments carried by the pilots.

"They docked and unloaded an army's worth of droids. Within minutes our ships had been hijacked. The pods were useless. Lieutenant Tunrad, my brother, fell protecting the first officer, and the few of us remaining made for the hanger to try and find something to get off the ship.", a single tear slid past the corner of Runtan's feline eye, "I know that Jedi aren't meant to feel emotion, but seeing both my Master and my brother fall in one day was… hard."

Her voice broke with emotion, and Caloc had to stop himself from trying to comfort her. "Soon, it was just the first officer and I left. Nikil fell behind in one of the corridors and ordered me to protect her. So, I defended her with all my might. Until we got to the hanger." She gestured around her at her home. "Only two ships left. This bomber and a slowhauler. Cantoni took the slowhauler while I ran defence. My droid and I tried everything, but just as we were about to launch into hyperspace, the hauler was hit. It disappeared – escaped into hyperspace - but I don't know if she survived or not. Next thing, Chafe here", she gestured to the C1-series astromech chip, "is taking control of everything and we are in hyperspace."

"And you ended up here.", Caloc finished.

She shrugged, wiping away a few stray tears from her fur. "Not intentionally, but I think it was a good thing we came to Arratak. It gave me time to atone."

For Nobel, Caloc thought. He glanced down at the lightsabre in his hands. "If I remember the reports correctly, that means that you have been here for about eighteen years standard galactic time. Twenty in Shili years."

She only nodded in reply.

"I think you may have atoned enough, Runtan.", he gave her a soft smile and stood to offer her his hand. "Time to start being who you really are."

She gave him a dubious look, then seemed to realise that she had moved to a sitting position before him. Her fists clenched and unclenched as she asked, "And what is that?"

He laughed, as though the answer should have been obvious. "A Jedi."

An expression somewhere between confusion and wonderment crossed her face. "You think that I could be a Jedi? After all this time?"

Caloc ignited the golden blade in his hand, letting it's light flow across them both. "You already are, Runtan. Are you ready to make it official?"

She bowed her head, and he began. Honestly, he had no idea if a second year padawan could officially knight someone, but the gesture was what mattered now. He could claim that Stass did it later. She probably wouldn't mind.

"By the right of the Council, by the will of the Force – Runtan Tunrad, you may rise.", he proclaimed, then he slashed the lightsaber though one of the braids dangling down her neck. "Be a great Jedi, Runtan."

He disengaged her blade and returned it to the ground before the trembling Runtan. She nodded slowly, as though trying to grasp reality. Reverently, she reached out and lifted both his blade and her melted one from the floor. Gingerly, she turned them over in her palms, before handing them to him. With a gentle, caressing touch, he took them, looking to her for direction.

"You are correct, Padawan. Time to stop dwelling on the past.", she declared, "The components will be interchangeable. Get that blade of yours working, Caloc Tiac. In Mal Torgo, you are going to need it."

Caloc sat at the small desk, the two lightsabres before him. He had already dissected his weapon and found the damage. The main focussing lens was cracked, and the two focussing crystals that sat above the main were likewise unusable. There were also a few wires that had been cut, but he had been able to solder them back together with the tools scattered about. Thankfully, the kyber crystal itself was fully intact. If that had cracked, this would a completely different story. Now came the difficult part.

Running his fingers down Runtan's melted weapon, he tried to sense the inner workings. As he reached the bottom of the hilt, he felt the Force nudge something. A small click more felt than heard. He continued to run his finger along the groove until he felt three more clicks. Then, moving the Force with a caution he never usually showed, he let the weapon float before him. The outer sleeve immediately slid off, and the inner workings were laid bare for him to study. As Runtan had previously stated, the weapon was interchangeable with his own. The crystal, unlike the gleaming sapphire kyber his blade held, was a paisley orange gem that glinted brightly in the dim light of the room.

He deftly pulled it from its harness, then focussed on the two tiny crystals above the main focussing lens. It took more effort to carefully pry them loose, but they soon joined the kyber on the table. Taking what else he needed, mostly the central area of the outer shell to replace where his had been skewered, he began to select the best pieces from both weapons, having them float before him in the same order the lightsabre-making droid known as Master Huyang had spoken of onboard the Crucible. The pieces moved to their places, his own parts mixing with those of Runtan's, until it became unrecognisable as either hilt.

When they were in that order, he focussed again, but this time, instead of picturing each piece of the weapon, he pictured the pieces when they were together. A fully working lightsabre, with the crystal once more focussed through the lens and the crystals. Then, he willed for those individual pieces to do just that, to become his new lightsaber. He could hear it happen, the screws turning, the metal encompassing the grip where the leather used to go. When he let it fall from his mind's grip, and it landed in his hand, he realised that he had been holding his breath. Slowly, he let it out and looked down.

The hilt was the same size and shape as it had always been. Instead of the leather grip he had originally crafted, there was now a black and gold handhold, worn down to a shine after years of use. Only the ignition switch had changed. Instead of being near the top of the hilt, where the emitter was close, this one was right in the middle of the grip, a small pressure plate raised above the metal. But the interior was different. He could feel the mixture of parts, fitted together like two puzzles that made a strange image.

It was the time of truth. Forcing himself to continue staring at the hilt, he pushed in the pressure plate, and a blue glow encompassed him, illuminating the room. It was lighter than his weapon usually was, more a cyan than a sapphire. Reaching down, he pocketed the orange kyber. Maybe it could be of use some other time. Right now, he had a weapon again.

"Looks like that worked.", Runtan breathed from behind him. She leant forward and placed a pile of folded fabric before him. He looked up at her with confusion, and she gestured the rips and tears in his uniform. "You seriously needed a change of clothes, kid. I figured you might be able to use my old stealth uniform. Should fit you. And it will definitely be more stylish than 'torn chic' look you have."