What Had to Be Done
Blaster fire was coming from left, right and centre. Eeth was deflecting shots so fast that his saber was a blur. Several of his attackers were falling. He did not allow himself to feel sorry for them; he was responsible for getting thirteen hostages plus his team out of here alive, and harbouring regrets would only slow him down.
Their attackers were numerous and closing in quickly. Eeth estimated that, with his team's combined skill and experience, they might just about make it, unless…
A batch of battle droids burst into the hall through a side door, carrying what looked like a grenade launcher. Eeth realised immediately that this was more than they could take on. In a split-second, he made a decision.
"Lok, take Dayly into the shuttle and make sure all the hostages are on board," he ordered brusquely. "As soon as you've done that, we will take off. Hornim and I will give you cover. Go, quickly."
Lok complied immediately. He had been knighted four years ago and knew to obey orders. Deflecting several more blaster bolts, he called on the eighteen-year-old padawan at his side to follow him and they backed into the shuttle.
"Let's just hope these battle droids don't take out the shuttle before we've made our getaway," Hornim, Dayly's master, growled while Force-pushing one of said droids into a batch of soldiers at their right, sending them into disarray.
"We will just have to take that risk," Eeth replied, doing the same at their left. "Or do you have a better idea?"
Hornim gritted his teeth, shook his head and continued fighting. Eeth did, in fact, have a better idea, but he was not about to tell anyone about it. That would only result in pointless discussions which would dangerously delay the team's getaway. For the same reason, he knew that, however much he wanted to, he could not risk giving his former padawan some kind of last message. Lok would be certain to come charging back out of the shuttle, and he had no use for that. Not if he wanted his team to make it out of here alive.
"Eeth? They're all there," he heard Lok through his comlink.
"Good," he replied and continued in fast, clipped tones, "Take the co-pilot's seat and fire up the engines. Master Hornim will take the helm. I will give you cover. When the hatch closes behind me, take off immediately."
Hornim had heard. He nodded at Eeth and backed up into the shuttle as fast as he could without asking questions. There was no time for questions anyway.
Eeth waited for a few more seconds, fighting off the ever-growing numbers of battle droids and soldiers that were closing in. Then he leapt for the button that would close the hatch from the outside and thumped it with his fist. He vaulted away, landing in the thick of things and momentarily drawing attention away from the shuttle. While he did so, he scanned the hangar for the grenade launcher. Eeth sliced his way to it, ignoring a shot that grazed his left leg, struck down two mercenaries and turned the grenade launcher into a smouldering heap of metal. Behind him, engines roared up and the shuttle took off in a streak of light.
Not a second later, Eeth felt himself surrounded on all sides. Closing his eyes, he lowered his saber and surrendered himself to the will of the Force. And then, the fatal blaster bolt struck.
Dayly stumbled into the cockpit where Lok was frantically setting the coordinates for entry into hyperspace. Her master, meanwhile, was focused on achieving the maximum possible speed while directing all remaining power to the shields. She could see that neither of the two had time to spare.
"Someone needs to look at this, I'm losing too much blood," she said, nursing a heavily bleeding wound on her left upper arm. "Where's Eeth?"
For a moment, everything seemed to stop. Lok's face turned ashen.
"He must have stayed behind," he finally whispered. "He…"
Hornim drew a deep and shaky breath. "We need to get the shuttle into hyperspace. Finish your job," he ordered roughly. He was the leader of this mission team now, and it was his responsibility to get the hostages and his team to safety.
Numb with shock, Lok obeyed. As if he was in a dream, or rather, a nightmare, he saw his shaking hands enter the coordinates and watched Hornim accelerate until the familiar stripes lit up around them while Dayly was quietly sobbing behind them. And then, they were safe. And there was silence.
Finally, Hornim said in a hoarse voice, "He sacrificed himself for us. He wanted to secure our getaway."
"But… he must have known he was gonna die!" said Dayly shrilly. "Why didn't he get in before the hatch closed?"
"Because there was a very good chance they would have taken out the shuttle, and if he wanted to make sure that didn't happen, one of us had to stay behind," Hornim said quietly. "He was the mission leader, and he took over that job."
"Yes, he would have done so," Lok whispered, staring into space. "That's exactly what he would have done."
"If I'd had a moment to think, I would have known he was not planning on coming with us," Hornim said bitterly, banging his fist against the control panel to release his frustration.
"Yes, and if you had started an argument about it, we might all be dead by now," said Dayly in a voice that was bordering on hysterical. She knelt down next to her master and leaned into his side, soaking his robe with quiet tears.
Lok surprised himself by telling Hornim in a fairly steady voice, "It was his decision to make, and he made it knowing what was going to happen. He saved the lives of sixteen people."
And through all his shock and stunned disbelief, one thought came to the surface: "If he had to die, he would have wanted to go like this, in the pursuit of his duty, sacrificing himself for others."
Pursing his lips, Lok checked the controls once again to make sure they were on course. And then he knelt and set to stitching the gaping wound on Dayly's arm because that was what had to be done. Just like his master had done what had to be done. He was not going to let Eeth down.
Lakhri arrived at the last moment, like usual. He could not help thinking about what Eeth would have had to say to that. But Eeth was not there to shoot him his trademark reproving look, nor was there a body to cremate. A holograph of Eeth, flickering above a small stone dais, dominated the room, and that room was full of people. Lakhri stopped in surprise for a moment when he saw how many there were. When he had been Eeth's padawan, the man had been quite solitary. Sure, Lakhri was perfectly aware that Eeth had had two padawans after him and worked with any number of people, but to see them all here, filling every last corner of the room, was rather overwhelming. There were Lok and Raven, of course, standing behind the holograph and waiting for him; there were Flynt and his padawan Skarn and Raven's padawan Maexx. And Lakhri's second padawan Tasha came hurrying in behind him. Then there were Master Hornim and Padawan Dayly, standing a little behind Lok. Among the crowd of people that parted to let him pass, Lakhri recognized a host of current and former Council members: Saesee Tiin, Adi Gallia, Mace Windu. Jas Gaan, a young Zabrak Jedi knight whom Eeth had mentored, was standing there, too, ramrod-straight and lips pursed. Fleetingly, his gaze locked on that of Mal Shekkaf, who was accompanied by his former padawan, Lily; there was Master Granzien, still surprisingly good-looking, with his former padawan Neko at his side, and Master Eden Xander and Knight Indigo, and so many others that Lakhri could not take them all in.
While Tasha went to quietly stand beside Maexx, Lakhri gave Raven and Lok a brief smile. Then turned and positioned himself in front of them, facing the holograph of Eeth as well as most of those who had come to say farewell to him.
"We are here to commemorate my former master, Eeth Koth," he started, as he had planned to say. Then he paused for a moment, realising how hollow this sounded.
"He would have been surprised to see how many have come to salute him," he finally continued, deciding on the spur of the moment that the talk he had prepared would not do at all and that he would just go with whatever his brain delivered. "When I was his padawan, he seemed to have no friends at all. He basically worked all the time and he hardly dealt with people outside the course of his duty. Even I often felt as if I was more of a duty to him than a person he cared for, and it took a long time for me to overcome that impression. I managed to overcome it because I came to realise that it was not accurate. Eeth was just very bad at showing people that he cared, and he was not good at making friends either. Much later, after I was knighted, he sometimes told me that my ability to talk to people, to connect with them, was a real gift. At the time I didn't take him seriously. He was so damned good at most everything that I could not imagine him struggling with anything. But I think he actually envied me – and most others, in fact – for this skill. And yet… here you are, all of you, to commemorate my solitary former master. He might have been surprised to see all of you here, so many of you – but it is no coincidence, I think."
He gazed at the audience for a moment, searching for words. Then one of the many stories about Eeth he had been remembering during these past days since he had received the news drifted to the surface, and he continued. "When I first met Lok, his third padawan," he said, "I did the same as I did when I first met Raven, who was his second. I tried to make fun of Eeth and give some pep talk. I tried to convey to Lok that I knew how daunting and how difficult it was to be Eeth's padawan, and that I survived, and that things might get easier after some time and that I would be happy to give him a break from Eeth occasionally. Raven was rather glad about getting that kind of support, I think; but Lok was a different matter. I guess he had no clue what I was getting at." Behind himself, he heard a watery chuckle and turned briefly to give Lok a quick, equally watery grin.
"Lok told me then," he continued, "and I quote, that Eeth was 'not horrible at all.' And that he didn't need a break from him. It was one of the more embarrassing moments of my life. And it was at that point that I realised how much Eeth had grown. He had grown, as a person and as a Jedi, all his life. He had never allowed himself to become complacent, to accept his faults and weaknesses for what they were and leave them be. He was very acutely aware of them, and he never stopped trying to improve. By the time he took on Lok, he was not the same master any more that he had been when I had become his padawan. Of course, he had been very young to have a padawan at the time; I hadn't seen it then, but it must not have been easy for him. But he would never let that on. He would just keep going and try to do better. Just like he did when his former master informed him very plainly of how bad a job he was doing at raising me. Just like he did when he took Raven to a very dangerous mission on Nar Shaddaa in order to overcome his own fears and later on realised that he had acted on those exact fears, rather than overcoming them. Just like he did when the Council asked him to look after a boy who had just lost his master which, as he told me later, seemed like a rather daunting task to him at the time. We all know that he could be incredibly strict and immensely hard on himself and others. But he could also be gentle and kind and caring, and he strove all his life to improve his ability to show it. And what he was most of all, I think, is selfless. He never wanted anything for himself. And the way in which he died is proof of that."
He was silent for a long moment. Then he bowed to the holograph of his former master, turned and made way for Raven.
A flood of emotions and memories of her apprenticeship, of Eeth, and of Lakhri flashed through Raven's mind as the short man came towards her. For what felt like the millionth time since she had entered the room, Raven looked up at the holoprojection of the aged visage of Eeth, noting that he was not all that dissimilar to the younger man who had taken her on as his apprentice all those years ago; a little greyer perhaps. A tiny smile crept to her lips as she recalled the deadpan expression he had once given her when she'd commented on the amount of grey in his hair. She allowed herself to feel the pain of his loss once again, her head lowering and eyes glazing briefly before releasing it into the Force.
"Master?" came a small, concerned voice from her side. "Are you alright?" Maexx questioned. She had been with Raven for barely two months, yet she would need to be Force-blind not to recognise that her master was hurting.
Raven placed a comforting hand on the girl's shoulder. Maexx had only just turned ten, and although she had had little time to get to know her grandmaster, she had gotten along with him well.
"I'm alright," Raven reassured the girl and then held a single finger to her lips in the universal gesture for silence. She reached down, swiped a tear from the child's eye with her thumb and sent a wave of calm across their bond.
Straightening up, Raven stepped forward and briefly met the eyes of her long-time friend and Jedi brother, Flynt, who stood near them with his Nautolan apprentice, Skarn. As she passed Lakhri, she leaned down and enveloped him in a heartfelt embrace. They had so much history and shared so many experiences. Now they shared another: the loss of their master whom they both loved dearly.
"Well said, Lakhri," she told him softly. She did not need more words than these; they understood each other without speaking. After a moment, Raven released Lakhri from her hug and made her way to the podium.
When Raven turned to face the large crowd, she smiled through her heartache. Her master had touched the lives of many, and she was grateful to have been one of them, which was exactly how she began her speech.
"As a master and teacher, Eeth was utterly devoted," she said. "He would not allow failure. He was hard on his students but always compassionate and committed. Whether he punished them, praised them or patiently explained the same thing ten times over, he showed them that he cared, that he trusted in them and unfailingly believed in their potential for succeeding, and by this, he gave them the strength to believe in themselves." She cast her eyes over the group. Public speaking had once been such an ordeal for her, but thanks to Eeth's perseverance, she overcame this and was now a skilled diplomat and speaker.
"At first, I found him difficult to understand. He had trouble expressing his emotions outside of meditation," continued Raven. She described their mission to Fenesteer, of how she felt that she was not good enough to be his apprentice. He had saved her life on that mission as well as others. "It was one of many times he put the life of others before his own," she said. Her head hung a little as she realised that this ultimately was how Eeth had chosen to leave this world: he had forfeited his own life to save sixteen others. 'I only did my duty': she could all but hear his words soothing her across what had once been their bond. There was a pause as she again allowed herself to feel the pain and released it into the Force.
During that pause, Raven met the gaze of so many familiar Jedi. Kaden Lightbane was standing by Flynt; he had recently lost his apprentice during a mission and was still seeing a soul healer, but regardless, the burly man had made sure to attend, along with his former master Drex, who was very frail, but had refused to sit while everyone else was standing. Her gaze then locked on that of Endal Kanyan. The man and his master, Drkai, along with herself and Eeth had once gone on a mission to Arkuna as junior apprentices, and then again to Shadowfax. So much history stood in this room, she thought.
"The care he showed my family was another milestone for Eeth," she finally continued. "We went to visit my birth family on the planet of Chine when I was fifteen and it turned out that it was difficult for him to be treated as a family member. Since I had accompanied him to Nar Shaddaa, I knew how heavily the memories of his childhood there weighed on him. He did not quite know what to do with people who hugged him and children who kissed him goodnight and wanted stories. But he would never have dreamt of taking the easy way out and leaving, even though I offered it to him. Instead, he embraced the situation and tried to grow into it. He might have felt awkward, but that didn't prevent him from showing my family great compassion. He left an impression on all who knew him. Most notable for me was his effect on my twin, Bram. Eeth provided Bram with guidance and understanding when he needed it most, when he needed someone to confide in who was not family but treated him as if he were. Eeth was there for him, as he was for many others." She met Jas' gaze briefly and nodded as the Zabrak inclined her head in agreement. "Bram was unable to be here today," she concluded. "But he sends his condolences, respect and deepest sympathies. Bram was just one of many lives touched by Eeth, and one of many who will sorely miss his presence in this world."
Raven was unable to stop the tears that now streaked her face, and she allowed the hurt to flow freely, knowing that each person in this room was feeling pain at the loss. At last, Raven offered a final formal bow to the hologram of Eeth, a man who meant so much to so many, turned and stepped back. Eyes bright with tears, she fell into Flynt's arms. They hugged each other tightly for a long moment. Then Raven withdrew and took her place beside Maexx, offering the girl reassurance again across their bond. Raven was going to miss her master, but she knew he had become one with the Force and had died doing what he was born to do.
Lok rested a hand on her shoulder briefly. Then he stepped forward and cleared his throat. He had talked in front of people any number of times; it came with the job. But this was different. It was personal, and that made it a lot harder. Still, he owed it to Eeth to pay him his respect. Lakhri, Raven and he had agreed on sharing the job; and thus, there was nothing for it but to start.
"As some of you know," he said, a little hesitant at first, but gaining certainty as he spoke, "Eeth was not my first master. My first master was Jerad Delapar and – this is something that probably none of you know – he and Eeth fell in love with each other when they were teenagers."
He had thought for a long time about whether he ought to reveal that bit of information; after Eeth's death, he had been the only person who knew and he had never told anyone. But it felt right, and it fit in exactly with what he wanted to say.
"They had strong feelings for each other," he continued, "but both of them ultimately decided that a relationship had no place in their lives because they knew that their future was with the Jedi Order. And so they subordinated their personal desires to their duties. Which really shows where their priorities were. Neither of them would have hesitated even for a split-second to sacrifice everything, and I mean everything, for their duty."
He swallowed and paused for a moment until his voice had regained its steadiness.
"Fourteen years ago, Jerad died of a virus that he caught during an unimportant conference," he finally said softly. "It was the will of the Force, no doubt; but if Jerad had known that this was going to happen, he still would have considered it a pointless death. Eeth, on the other hand, died saving the lives of sixteen people, including mine. Both died before their time, but of the two, I think Eeth drew the better lot. He went in the way he would have wanted to. I've always owed him so much; and now I also owe him my life."
He was unable to continue, and saved from the need to do so by Hornim and Dayly who had stepped forward to stand next to him.
"We, too, owe him our lives," said Hornim firmly and steadily. "And I, for one, can only hope that, if faced with the same kind of situation, I would find the same strength, courage, determination and selflessness that Eeth showed. He was a great Jedi, and he brought a great sacrifice. For that, we want to thank him – and honour him."
He and Dayly fell to their knees in front of the stone dais above which the holograph was flickering and lowered their heads in silence. It felt like exactly the right gesture to Lok; after a very brief moment's hesitation, he fell to his knees as well. And in a rustle of robes, the whole audience, even ancient Master Zaryth, followed suit, kneeling in honour of a Jedi who had done what had to be done.
THE END
A/N: This is quite obviously the end of Eeth's story arc *sniffles*. But this does not necessarily mean it is the end to us writing stories in this universe. We've been writing together, on and off, for over twenty years now, and we have published that content on this site for the last five years. Now we both feel that we need a bit of a break. But eventually we will be back with new stories involving characters old and/or new. Perhaps some of our readers will provide story requests?
In any case, thanks to everyone for sticking by us, for your support and most of all for the joy we've had reading reviews, writing and being read.
With love, Livia & Raven