EPISODE VIII
The Errant Knights
This was it. This was it. Han didn't care how many Jedi were left on the list, he had had it! The Millennium Falcon was many things, and he loved her, but she was not a transport! The one good thing about having so many Jedi in his ship was that they acted like a dowsing rod to find one another, so Han and Chewie could get this done faster. But that led itself back to the problem that Han was already having, which was that now his ship had too many people in it!
OoOoOoO
Things started simply enough. Following the guidance of K'Kruhk and Quinlan, the Falcon found its way to the desert planet of Jakku. All desert planets looked the same to Han and Chewbacca was miserable in the heat, but the two Jedi insisted that this was where they would find the Jedi Master Qu Rahn. It was as good a lead as any to start with, so Han let them lead the way. If nothing else, he could laugh at them later when they found nothing. Which gave Han an equal measure of frustration and relief when they did find someone. Relief because that meant they could get off this sandball and frustration because the Force wasn't real, blast it!
After three days of walking through the desert with nothing to guide them other than "The Will of the Force," the foursome came upon a wanderer setting up a campfire as dusk fell upon the third day.
"Hello, my friends," the traveler greeted them, the hood of his brown robe pulled over his head to hide his face. "I do not have much but if you are in need, I will share." Despite the ragged appearance of his clothes, the man's deep voice held an air of dignity. Not a noble or an aristocrat, simply someone with the assurance that his life held purpose.
"I don't think that we're the ones in need, Qu Rahn," Quinlan replied. The figure hesitated for a moment before pulling back his hood and looking up at them in astonishment.
Qu Rahn was a dark-skinned man with close-cropped black hair– though his hairline was visibly receding– a trimmed goatee, and brown eyes that were currently as big as moons. "Quinlan?" he whispered. "Master K'Kruhk?" Then he smiled broadly as he moved to his feet. "You live!" he cried happily before looking at Han and Chewbacca. "Who are these two?"
"The Ferrymen," Han grumbled. "I've been sent to gather you types by the Rebel Alliance." He showed Qu Rahn Bail Organa's message and Qu frowned deeply.
"What troubles you, my friend?" K'Kruhk asked. "This is a good thing. The time has come for the Jedi to unite."
Qu Rahn shook his head. "I am sorry, my friends," he told them sincerely. "But I do not know if I can."
"Sure you can!" Han insisted. "If you don't get on my ship, I don't get paid!" Well, that wasn't true. He just wouldn't get paid as much. But the Jedi didn't need to know that. All three masters shot the smuggler a look of contempt and Han just gave them a shrug.
"I apologize for your financial inconvenience," Qu said, his voice dripping with contempt, "But I have a mission from Master Yoda. I found him on Dagobah," Qu explained, now speaking only to the Jedi. "I told him of disturbing visions I had. Of Jedi who had survived the Fall of the Order and yet would succumb to the Dark Side. He did not give me direct counsel," he admitted. "I fear that the time on Dagobah may have affected the Master's mind. It is a place steeped in the Dark Side. He told me that I must seek out the Valley of the Jedi. That the souls of the Jedi trapped there must be free. The only obstacle is…" he threw up his hands in frustration. "I have no kriffing idea where the Valley is!" Quinlan and K'Kruhk shared a chuckle at hearing Qu use such language. "I have searched for the answers for over a year now. I have found Jedi Holocrons and ancient texts, consulted them for answers, for clues. But all I find are crumbs. I feel as though I have combed half the galaxy." A feeling Han could certainly sympathize with. "But I am no closer to seeking out the truth. Still, if this is Master Yoda's will…"
"But how can you be sure that it was not the will of the Force itself for us to find you?" Quinlan asked. "If what you fear is more Jedi being turned as the Inquisitors were, then we must band together and reform the Jedi Order so that we can find these Jedi and protect them from falling to the Dark Side! The Force calls upon us to act, to fight against the Empire and stop the spread of the Dark Side, my friend. It calls upon us all. We need your help."
"When the Empire is defeated," K'Kruhk added, "And the Order restored, then we will commit all the powers at our disposal to help you find the Valley of the Jedi. We promise."
Qu Rahn was silent for several more seconds and stroked his goatee thoughtfully. "Quinlan, my old friend…" he began before smiling again. "With speeches like that, how were you never on the council?" The three Jedi smiled and embraced one another warmly.
Han just rolled his eyes and fished out his comm. "Elthree, fire up the engines and come to my location," he said. "We're gettin' out of here."
OoOoOoO
Apparently, those Holocrons and junk Qu brought with him were a big deal of some kind. Bunch of Jedi knowledge. The only concern Han had was wondering if "discovering" these items of vital import to the Jedi Order could be leveraged into netting himself and Chewbacca another bonus.
Thankfully, the next pickup was easier. The "will of the Force" took them to Bimmisaari in the Middle Rim systems, which was near the Kashyyyk region of space. The Bimms barely averaged more than a meter in height, whether you were talking about the aliens or the near-humans, so both Chewbacca and K'Kruhk stayed on the ship to minimize the risk of attracting attention.
"So have either of you met this 'Rune' guy before?" Han muttered as they pushed through the throngs of half-pint individuals in the capital city of Glastro. It wasn't as crowded as a place like Cato Neimoidia and the people were generally more pleasant, which somehow made things more difficult for Han. It was harder to be a jerk to people if they weren't being a jerk right back.
"Can't say that I have," Quinlan admitted with a shake of his head.
"Even at the end of the Republic, our people numbered in the thousands," Qu reminded him. "It's nearly impossible for any one Jedi to have met all other Jedi."
"Yeah, yeah," Han muttered. "Thankfully, I at least have a picture to go off. He's a Mon Calamari. Shouldn't be too hard to find around here." After asking around for a few hours, Han and the two Jedi were directed out of the capital city and toward a smaller coastal village called Pittemween. Honestly, they should have been able to guess that he'd be on the coast due to being, well, a fishman. Han let the two Jedi take the lead from there and the trio found a small stone just off the shoreline. He had to admit, the Jedi certainly picked a nice view to wake up to every morning. A horizon of crystalline blue as far as the eye could see. As far across the galaxy as Han had been, a big, beautiful ocean was hard to beat.
They walked around the property a couple of times and found no one, and peeking inside the house revealed nothing. Han was about two seconds away from picking the lock to make sure Rune hadn't heard about someone looking for him, assumed it was Imperials, and bolted (Qu and Quinlan both suggested just asking some of Rune's neighbors) when someone approached them.
"Can I help you gentlemen with something?" asked that signature Mon Calamari gargled tone. The three of them turned and saw a salmon pink Mon Calamari with golden eyes. Most of his body was concealed by a dark blue hooded robe, but it was hard to hide that bulbous head. He looked at Quinlan and Qu suspiciously, tilting his head ever so slightly. Standing directly behind him, and towering over him by about half a meter, was a figure in a dark green cloak, the cloak pulled down to completely mask their face. But there was something vaguely familiar about the smell.
"Are you Rune?" Han asked in response.
"I might be," Rune acknowledged. "But I still do not know who you are…" his fingers flexed beneath the sleeves of his robes.
Qu and Quinlan exchanged glances before revealing their lightsabers and activating them in unison, each a different shade of green. Han nearly jumped out of his skin at that and quickly sidestepped in case this was about to turn into a fight. What were these laserbrains doing?! Or maybe he was wrong and Rune was one of those "fallen" Jedi Qu had talked about. He wondered if he could still get paid for finding Rune then…
Rune's eyes widened in surprise (which was no easy feat for a Mon Calamari) and then his wide mouth turned up into a grin. "Jedi!" he declared excitedly. "I knew it!" he removed his robe, showing that he was wearing a tan tabard over a blue undertunic with gray pants and gray boots. Han was just glad it revealed that he had on something. He displayed his own blue lightsaber, the color of the sea, while the figure behind him disrobed to reveal himself as a Wookiee of all things. He also held up a lightsaber with a green blade, only the handle on this one appeared to be made of wood. The Wookiee gave a cheerful roar and smiled eagerly. "You must be Masters Quinlan Vos and Qu Rahn," Rune surmised, which they confirmed with a nod. "This is Gungi," he gestured to the Wookiee. "Our paths crossed some years ago and I've done my best to continue his training." Gungi saluted the Masters with his saber and they saluted in return.
"Could you all put those things away before we're spotted?!" Han snapped at them while getting out the recording. They did so quickly and hooked their lightsabers back on their belts. "Here, watch this and make a decision before we get shot at." He pressed a button irritably and played Bail Organa's message for Rune and Gungi.
"We accept," Rune assured them, and Gungi barked in agreement. Han was pleasantly surprised that it was that easy. "It's time we Jedi reclaimed our responsibility and took the fight to the Empire. Besides," he added with a look back at Gungi, "It will be good for Gungi to learn from those more experienced than I. I am no great Master," he admitted humbly. "I have done my best but I know where I am limited." Gungi gave a sympathetic chuff while Quinlan put a hand on Rune's shoulder.
"If you have kept your Padawan alive and safe, and taught him what it means to be a Jedi, then you have already done all that is asked of a Jedi Knight." Rune smiled at Quinlan and nodded while Han was already leaving.
"Come on, let's hurry up and get back to the Falcon," he told them. "This planet's isolated from the Empire but not that isolated. Don't get sloppy."
OoOoOoo
So at that point, there were five beings on the Falcon who were in excess of 2 meters tall. And Gungi definitely ate like a Wookiee. Which just gave Han more headaches. Being shorter than Chewie was one thing, he'd made his peace with that a while ago. But he was now the shortest person on his ship other than a Mon Calamari and it was… well, more annoying than anything. But still! The main issue– other than the smell of two Wookiees, a Whiphid, and a Mon Calamari– was that everyone needed food and water, which quite literally ate into their profits. If the Rebels wanted him to keep doing this, they'd need to negotiate a new contract that included business expenses like that.
Han wished there was a device that he could hook up to his ship that could create whatever food or water he needed, or even things like medicine or replacement parts for the ship. Just push a button and it would… reconstitute errant molecules in the air or something. A big flash of light and bang! You'd have whatever it was that you needed.
But that was just more crazy hokum. Worse than the gibberish the Jedi would spout. Especially once there were four of them on his ship! And at the risk of Han's sanity, he wound up getting yet another Jedi.
The trail this time led them to a planet on the Outer Rim called Canto Bight. High society, gambling, luxuries. All the things a scoundrel could really sink his teeth into. Finally, a planet that was a little more Han's speed. That was the good news. The bad news was that such a planet was, naturally, crawling with Imperials. So Han took it upon himself to make an executive decision.
"Look, all of you just stay in here," he told the Jedi firmly. "There's too many Imperial officers and Stormtroopers all over this place. I can't risk any of you waving your lightsabers around or acting all… Jedi-y."
"Sound logic," Quinlan concluded with a slight smirk. Han glared daggers at him and gave him an aggressive point before he continued.
"So just stay here," he reiterated, "And don't leave. Don't touch anything, don't make too much noise, don't even think about the Force." He straightened his posture and tugged at the lapels of his vest with a satisfied smile. "Just let me handle this. This is my kinda town."
Chewbacca growled out his protest.
"What do you mean you're coming?" Han asked. "Someone needs to stay and make sure these five don't get in trouble!"
Chewbacca gave an accusatory growl.
"Really?" Han remarked in offense. "Everything we've been through, you don't trust me? Just because it's a gambling planet? You think I need a handler?"
Chewbacca barked in the affirmative and the Jedi laughed. So did L3-37. Han chewed his bottom lip irritably and furrowed his brow.
"Ah, shut it," he snapped at them, giving a dismissive wave with his hands. "Fine, Chewie. If it'll make you feel better, you can come along. Elthree, make sure you shut these doors behind us and don't open them again unless it's an emergency."
"Sure thing, Han," L3-37 agreed. Chewbacca took Gungi's cloak before he and Han walked down the ramp out of the Falcon. It was about a foot short for him but it did the job of at least making it less obvious he was a Wookiee. Han waited for the Falcon to beep after the ramp slid up and the door shut behind him to know for certain that the door was locked. Then he breathed a sigh of relief and walked with Chewbacca into the city.
So Chewie might have had a point and he might have pulled Han away from a few Sabacc or Pazaak game tables. But in Han's defense, he also needed to pull Chewie out of a buffet line or two. Not to mention the exotic dancers… okay, they both got distracted there.
The Jedi they were looking for was a man named Dorn Tavers. Supposedly, he'd last been seen somewhere in the system and the other Jedi had felt the Force calling them to this particular planet. Rune even knew the guy from before the fall of the Republic. Some people were helpful to Han– or at least polite– while some stonewalled him. Some of them were downright nasty when they heard the name "Dorn Tarvers." One woman even slapped Han in the face! Guy must have had quite a reputation.
Han had to admit that he could relate to that.
The closest thing to a lead he and Chewie were able to get was a woman who said that while she hadn't heard of Dorn Tavers, she did know a Cilia Tavers that performed as an actress with one of the major theater companies. Maybe it was a relative that they could talk to, at least.
There were no performances that day at The Golden Galaxy, the theater where Cilia worked, but Han and Chewie were able to convince the person working the front of the house to tell them where her apartment was. Han explained that he was an agent working on behalf of a major holodrama studio that wanted to talk to Cilia about a role and that Chewie was the negotiator. He may have also slipped the sentient a couple hundred credits.
Which he would also be adding to the expense account he would give Organa when this was all over.
The apartment complex where Cilia Tavers was staying was certainly one of the classier joints. A communal walking garden with water fixtures, activity courts, restaurants on the grounds, the works. Clearly there was money to be made as an actor if you were acting in the right places. Han found himself regretting that he had never taken any acting classes. Naturally, a place like this also had guards and a gate. But those things didn't really stop you if you were a smuggler who knew what you were doing and could just hack any gate you needed to get through. Han wasn't the greatest hacker in the galaxy, but he knew enough to get through this place. An Imperial penal colony this was not.
Once they were on the grounds, Han grabbed a delivery package off of someone's porch, turned a corner, and walked up to one of the staff for the complex, the package tucked under one arm and his datapad in the other. "Hey, can you help me out?" he asked. "I have a delivery here for a…" he paused and pretended to read his datapad. "Cilia Tavers? But she didn't give me her actual room number on the address."
"Oh, sure, no problem," the staffer, a Rodian, replied in her native language. Thankfully, Han spoke Rodese. "Ms. Tavers is always receiving packages from admirers. She's in apartment 445 in the 'B' building," the woman explained as she pointed out which building Han needed to go to. "Just take the turbolift up to the fourth floor."
Han nodded his appreciation. "Much obliged, miss. C'mon, Sal," he told Chewie with a jerk of his head.
As they walked off and got out of earshot, Chewbacca grumbled in protest.
"Well, I needed to come up with somethin'! I couldn't just call ya 'Chewie'! If this all goes sideways, we need some plausible deniability."
Chewbacca grumbled again.
"Alright, alright. I'm sorry! I forgot you had that issue with Salbartic. I'll come up with a different alias for ya next time."
Another grumble.
"You're right, I should have given myself a mustache or something," Han conceded. One turbolift ride later and a walk down a hallway and finally, finally, they had made it to Cilia Tavers' apartment. "Please be home," Han muttered quietly before knocking on the door. "Ms. Tavers, are you there?" he asked.
"Who is it?" came a voice through the door and relief washed over Han. High, pleasant, just a little bit posh. This was absolutely someone who'd been raised on Coruscant.
"I need to talk to you," Han said, "It's about your brother." He listened carefully and gave Chewbacca a look that said "Be ready to break down the door."
"My brother?" the voice asked with a hint of perplexity. It sounded much closer now. Then the door slid open and Cilia Tavers was standing in front of him. About the same height as him, maybe a little shorter, Cilia Tavers was an undeniably beautiful woman, with long, wavy brown hair, a slightly pointed chin, and warm gray eyes. She certainly didn't look like a woman who should nearly be in her forties but hardly anyone in the galaxy looked their age if they could afford it these days. She wore a purple jacket with gold accents along the seams and gold clasps on the front, though at the moment it was open to reveal a form-fitting white shirt underneath that was intricately laced with gold patterns. She wore a red leather belt and black trousers with red flowers patterned down the sides and, as she was in her own home, she currently had no shoes on. "I don't have a brother."
Chewbacca had to nudge Han to get him to remember to speak.
"I– uh– I think you do," Han assured her when he collected himself. Han could definitely see some kind of resemblance there. "I'm looking for a Dorn Tavers." The warmth drained from Cilia's face and she glowered at him.
"That man is dead," she told him gravely. She stepped away from the door and pushed a button to make the door slam shut, which it did. Precisely, it slammed shut on Han's fingers, as he jammed his hand in the doorway.
"Wait!" Han grimaced in pain. "Wait, wait, wait!" There was something in her tone that made it clear that Cilia was hiding something. "We're not… with the Empire," he gasped out. "We don't want to hurt him. We need his help."
The door slid open and Cilia was still standing there, arms across her chest, but she didn't seem in any better of a mood as Han pulled his hand away and rubbed at his bruised knuckles. "You won't. Find him. Here."
"You don't need to worry about protecting him," Han assured her, "We're part of the Rebel… Alliance…" Han trailed off as he looked back down at the datapad, then back at Cilia, and the pieces started to fall into place as he recalled how some people had reacted when he mentioned the name Dorn. They'd been trying to protect her. Maybe from someone in her past. Someone who might want to do her harm. Someone who didn't know, or didn't believe, that she was… "Ah."
"Yes," Cilia confirmed coolly. "Ah."
"Well, uh, look," Han said quickly, trying to play it cool, "I don't care about anything like that–"
"Oh, how gracious of you," Cilia cut him off.
"No, wait, I didn't mean it like that, I know you don't need anyone's permission," Han insisted as he put his hands up defensively. "You and I are in the same skiff." Cilia's sour expression turned to one of surprise for just a moment before settling back to its natural state. "Just… look, can we come in? I swear, we don't mean any trouble. I've got a message to play for you and you can either come with us or not."
Cilia squinted at them suspiciously and he could almost feel her gazing through them with the Force. "Fine," she said after a moment. "Take your boots off and leave them outside. The Wookiee'll need to wipe his feet before he can come in." They did as they were bid and entered the apartment. It was as lavish on the inside as the rest of the property was on the outside: real wood panel flooring, pink pastel walls, floor rugs, a state-of-the-art holoprojector, fancy crystalline light fixtures, the works! Cilia had rounded the corner and returned with a tall glass of what Han assumed was phattro. It was reddish-purple and nearly glowing, so it had to be the good stuff. "Alright, then," she told Han. "Go ahead and play this message." Han showed her Bail Organa's recording and Cilia went silent as she took another long sip. He could see the war going on in her head by the way her brow furrowed. She had a high forehead but… Han had to admit, it only added to her overall attractiveness. "No," she said, finally and bluntly.
"That's it?" Han asked.
"You said I could choose to come with you or not."
"Well yeah, but I'll need more to tell the Alliance than that."
"Tell them you couldn't find Dorn Tavers. Tell them he's dead."
"But you're not," Han insisted, which earned him another dirty look. "No, I– Dank Farrik!" he swore at himself. "Look, I told you, we need your help." Why the hell was Han throwing himself into this? What was wrong with 'they' need your help? "With all the power that the Empire's got, the Rebel Alliance needs all the help we can get." He did it again! What was wrong with him?
"I don't know how much help I'd be," Cilia scoffed while looking down into her glass. "I'd barely been a proper Knight for more than a year when the whole thing went tits-up. I was on the run for a long time before I finally settled down here. Couldn't tell you when the last time I'd even used my lightsaber was. Should have sold the damn thing on the black market."
"So, what happened?" Han asked. "I mean, obviously I know about what happened with the Order and the Republic and everything. I guess I just mean… you."
Cilia sighed softly as she sat in one of the armchairs by the holoprojector. "Well, firstly, I needed to disappear. I was between assignments so I didn't have a battalion with me, otherwise, I would have been torn to pieces. I felt something wrong in the Force, so I just… ran. Hopping from planet to planet, into the deeper rims, places where I was sure the Empire wouldn't find me. Trying to bury the Force within myself. I just needed to hide. Especially after I learned what happened to everyone on the Holonet." She took a long sip and let out a bitter, humorless laugh. "In a way, it sort of worked to my advantage."
"How's that?" Han asked.
"...I was going to leave the Order when the war was over, anyway," she confessed.
"Why?" Han asked. Cilia gestured to herself with the hand that wasn't holding a drink. "It couldn't have been that much of a problem," he assured her. "It seemed like that was common in the Republic."
"For a civilian, yes," Cilia agreed. "For normal people."
"But not for the Order," Han surmised.
"It was never said explicitly," Cilia admitted. "But I couldn't shake the feeling that it would be frowned upon, that I might be ostracized. That it could be seen as an… overly emotional attachment to the self," she shrugged. "I was more afraid than anything. So, the Emperor made a decision for me."
"How's that worked out for you?" Han asked with a wry smirk on his lips. Cilia matched him smirk for smirk and took another drink.
"Pretty shit," she told him. "By the time I finally felt comfortably settled enough here to try and transition, the Empire had changed a lot of the rules from how the Republic had allowed this sort of healthcare. Not that I really need to tell you how it is nowadays," she admitted, and Han gave a grimace and a nod. "But in the Republic, it was much different. You could just talk to a doctor, or interface with a medical droid, and just get the service that you wanted. Now, everything has to be done through clinics and under the supervision of a general practitioner who needs to give you permission," she sneered as her grip on the glass tightened. "They can just deny you care whenever they feel like it, or ask you humiliating, personal questions to convince them that you deserve it."
"I get what you mean," Han agreed. "What business is it of any Imp's what I think about when I'm…" he pantomimed the rather private action and Cilia snorted a laugh, putting her hand over her nose.
"So, I put my head down, I lied, I did whatever I could to just go along. I even used the Force a couple of times but that still felt terrifying, since I never knew who was watching or who might recognize what I'd done."
"So, is that how you…" Han gestured vaguely to her. "Ya know. Wound up like you are now?" She blinked a couple of times before giving another pained laugh.
"Oh kark no," she told him. "I eventually got sick of dealing with the clinics and took matters into my own hands. No doubt the same way you did." Han looked himself over dubiously. "Oh, don't play modest. I can tell you're a scoundrel just by looking at you." Han had the grace to blush. "I was getting the care I needed in venues that weren't particularly legal and that would have been much less safe if I didn't know how to use the Force to make… gentle suggestions," she said with a smirk. "I'm happier now. I like who I am. I would be dead if I hadn't done something." Again, Han had to nod his agreement. "But I'm well aware of the incredible privilege I used to get to this point, from having money, to being Force-Sensitive, to just being human in the Empire."
There was a long silence before Han spoke up again. "Well, when you put it like that," he said, "Your decision doesn't make any sense." Cilia blinked and looked at him with a quizzical expression. "Think about what you were just talking about. You're lucky enough that you were able to get what you needed to live the life that you want. That's great for you and me. But what about all of the people who couldn't? Who can't afford the risk or the credits for going somewhere else? The people who have to go to those Imperial clinics? People who die waiting for the Empire to give them the care that they need! If the Rebellion doesn't take down the Empire, it's only going to get worse! How much longer until someone comes along that decides to make it illegal for people like us to get the care we need, or even to exist? If we help the Rebellion restore the Republic, we can help fix things! Make it better for people like us! For everyone! You're worried about the Jedi Order?" Han asked. Cilia frowned and gave a slight nod. "Well, I don't know if you noticed this, but the Order's gone. For better or for worse, the whole Jedi Council's wiped off the map! There's no one to tell you what the rules are. Heck, you come back to the Jedi, you can make a new council! You can set the new rules!" Cilia looked thoughtfully at that. "Look, at the end of the day, there are good people fighting and dying in this war and a few of the other Jedi have already agreed to come out of hiding and join the fight. They may not win, they're giving up what little security and secrecy they had, they're putting themselves in the crosshairs of the– the… Dark Side all over again." Han couldn't believe those two words in concert had just left his mouth. "But they're doing it because it's right. Maybe you think you won't make a difference if you help and you might even be right," he conceded, "But what I know for sure is that you won't make any difference if you keep hiding all the way out here." Han wasn't even thinking about the money at this point. Somehow, he, a bonafide conman and scoundrel, had been conned into actually caring about what was good and right.
Cilia was silent for a few seconds longer and Han was worried she was going to throw them out. Then she sat up straight and took a long drink, tipping her head back and finishing the glass. She stood up from her seat and stretched her arm, holding out her hand. There was the sound of something rolling across a wooden floor for a few seconds before a blue-and-white metal cylinder flew into her hand. Unlike the other four Han had seen so far, this one was different. It was slightly curved and tapered at the base. "I was keeping it under the bed," she told Han with a smile that was almost bashful.
It was getting harder and harder for Han to reasonably deny the existence of the Force.
Cilia stared at the lightsaber and swallowed thickly, conflicting emotions warring inside her. What if she joined this new Jedi Order and her fears were confirmed? What if they rejected her or tried to make her change? What if she joined and fought in the Rebellion and died? What if they failed? She could leave this all behind and it would all be for nothing. But… but she had been raised as a Jedi. She had been trained to be more than this. To defend the innocent. To fight against the Dark Side. If she did nothing, if she hid… the Dark Side would take all that away from her. The same way that the Empire had tried to take away her right to be who she was. The same way it had taken that right away from so many, tried to rob them of their happiness and grind them into nothing. Could she allow that?
Cilia's fingers closed slowly around the lightsaber. She felt the weight of it in her hand, how natural it felt in her palm. Tears welled up in her eyes as she pressed the activation trigger. It snapped to life with a bright pink blade that she couldn't help but smile at. She held the lightsaber out in front of her with both hands and twirled the blade experimentally, moving through the stances she'd been taught at the Temple. All the emotions, all the memories, came flooding back to her. The thrill of learning to master the Force. The love of her Master. The joy and pride she'd felt in becoming a Knight. To stand in the light and defend the weak against the darkness.
Cilia turned her head to look at Han and smiled. "Alright, Mr. Solo. You win," she told him as her smile broadened in a way that showed the dimples of her cheeks. She deactivated her lightsaber and clipped it to her belt as she let out a breath and wiped her eyes. "Give me two minutes to pack?"
Han gave her a nod and grinned before Chewbacca elbowed him in the side. "What?" he asked irritably.
Chewie gave a series of amused chuffs and barks.
"You take that back," Han warned him, "I am not getting soft!" Chewbacca laughed and Han just rolled his eyes. He saw Cilia dash into her bedroom and followed, hanging just outside the door frame and watching her start loading things into boxes. "You might wanna pack a little lighter," he suggested. "The Falcon's tight on room as it is and I don't know how much you're gonna want to have to carry. I doubt the Rebellion is going to have four-star accommodations available in the foreseeable future."
That gave Cilia a moment's pause. She was going to have to pack her whole life in here. Everything she was going to need. Most of the things in this home, this whole life she'd built, were all going to have to be left behind. But she'd made her decision. She could do this. She'd lived as a Jedi once. A life of no possessions and no attachments. She could certainly manage it again.
She followed Chewbacca and Han Solo out of the apartment with two pieces of luggage and a hat on her head. She hadn't been a Jedi in almost twenty years, she was allowed a few attachments.
They walked back toward the shipyard where the Millennium Falcon was docked surprisingly unmolested. "Thought someone would have said something," Han admitted as they walked. "You seemed to be a pretty popular actor."
"One of the simplest and most useful tricks a Jedi learns is to walk like you are no one," Cilia explained. "To simply be a part of the crowd."
Han and Chewbacca nodded thoughtfully.
"The hat helps," she added with a grin. It was a wide-brimmed, floppy green hat with a trio of golden feathers jutting out at an angle. Han snorted to suppress a laugh, Chewbacca made absolutely no effort to suppress anything, and though she tried her best to look annoyed, Cilia couldn't hold in her own laughter. "I like this hat!" she protested through her chuckles. "I wanted to keep it!" When they reached the Falcon, she gave an appraising nod. "Impressive," she said, and Han gave a sly, confident smirk. "Intentionally making your ship look run-down would certainly make it less likely for Imperial ships to take notice of you and flag you down for boarding." Han's expression soured immediately.
"Yeah, sure," he said flatly. "I'm a real mastermind." Everyone always underestimated the Falcon at first glance. But, as far as Han was concerned, there wasn't a finer ship in the galaxy. "Elthree, open up! We got more company!" The ship beeped twice and the door lowered and the ramp slid down to the ground. Han walked up the ramp with Cilia in the middle and Chewbacca bringing up the rear on the off chance that an Imperial might indeed try to flag them down. The three Masters who didn't know Cilia didn't react beyond smiles, welcoming nods, and platitudes about "the Force being with her" and that sort of thing.
Rune, however, couldn't hide the surprised look on his face. "Dorn?" he asked in shock, his mouth falling open slightly. Gungie stood behind his master and waited to see the reaction between the two knights. When Rune said that, the Masters did finally seem to notice and they raised their eyebrows slightly.
Cilia's smile faltered and the tension was visible on her face. "It's- it's Cilia now, actually." Rune nodded and reached a hand out toward her.
"Cilia," he said softly. Rune took one of her hands in his, squeezing it gently. "Of course. I apologize." He gave her a smile. "Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter," he told her in a more-than-passable imitation of Yoda. The Jedi all laughed but the humor was, understandably, lost on Han, who just looked at them all like they were crazy.
"Hell, I'm the one driving around and collecting them all," he muttered to himself. "So who's the real crazy one?" He and Chewie made their way to the front of the ship, squeezing through to get to the controls. "Alright, everybody find somewhere to sit down, we're getting the hell outta here!"
OoOoOoO
So now, with six passengers on a ship that, more often than not, had two people on it at most, Han was at his wits' end. "Alright, no matter what this Rahm Kota fellow says, I'm dropping you off at Tython after this," he told the rest of the occupants firmly. "I don't care about 'Cal Kestis' or 'Ahsoka Tano' or whoever else. The Rebellion wants any more Jedi, they can find their own way. I have had it!" This drew some confused looks from those who wondered what they, individually, had done to provoke this reaction, but they were all equally eager to get off the ship and find out what exactly the Rebellion wanted from them. Especially Quinlan and K'Kruhk, who had been on the Millennium Falcon now for almost two months.
The ship came out of hyperspace over the planet of Utapau, where Rahm Kota had apparently dug himself in if he were still alive. The thing that saved Rahm's life during the Jedi Purge was the fact that he was prejudiced against the clones. Not believing they could serve as proper soldiers as they had not lived "real" lives, the very thing that had earned him derision during the Clone Wars had actually saved his life, since there were no clones close enough to Rahm to kill him. Rahm and his militia had pulled up stakes and moved to a separate part of the galaxy to turn their fight from the Separatists to the Empire, moving from planet to planet and making surgical strikes. Utapau was their most recent location and, with its vast network of underground tunnels, could serve as a functional base for years to come if need be. Especially given the light Imperial presence here on the Outer Rim. Rahm had been hiding his Jedi abilities for years to avoid the attention of the Inquisitors and the Dark Lords. Despite being in direct conflict with the Empire, Rahm had never formally joined the Rebel Alliance. It didn't give Han a whole lot of confidence about the prospect of getting Kota to join now, but there was really only one way to find out for sure.
"It would be easier if some of us were to go with you," Quinlan offered as the Falcon began to make its descent. "Master Rahm was always a bit… temperamental and that was before whatever the last twenty years have done to him. It might not be as easy to convince him that you aren't actually a servant of the Empire as it was with the rest of us."
Chewbacca growled and gave a series of agitated barks, saying exactly what he thought about the idea of someone threatening Han with violence.
"Calm yourself, my friend," K'Kruhk instructed him gently. "No one is saying that there will be violence. It is simply wisest to avoid it. Besides, even a Wookiee's fury would have trouble in the face of a lightsaber," he reminded Chewbacca.
Chewbacca gave a look like he was genuinely weighing his chances before nodding in agreement.
The governor of Utapau was sympathetic to the Rebellion and had already been told of the Millennium Falcon's arrival, so this was one of those rare occasions where the clearance codes Han gave before landing were legitimate.
"What business do you have on Utapau?" one of the guards on the landing platform asked after Han landed the Millennium Falcon down in one of the various massive sinkholes that the planets' population used for their society to avoid the harsh winds and climates on the planets' surface.
"We've got business with the governor," Han assured her. "We need to make a delivery for the governor's residence directly." There was a slight pause and Rune gently guided the guard toward agreeing. "Actually," Han added, "This might take a while. Haggling, negotiating, that sort of thing. It might be easier if we had access to the governor's personal landing pad, just to make sure nothing happens to my ship while I'm not here." He could feel the eyes of the Jedi all glaring at his back from what was no doubt a flagrant abuse of the powers of the Force and he just smirked. Cilia rolled her eyes, waved her hand, and the guard waved them along.
"Alright, you've been cleared," she told him. The Falcon took off into the air before lowering down into the sinkhole that the governor's private landing pad occupied.
"I certainly hope you do not intend to abuse the privilege of having access to a Jedi's powers, Mister Solo," Qu warned him. "You have been quite adamant about getting rid of us all after this planet."
"Hey, what do you want from me?" Han asked with a shrug. "It saves me having to throw disguises on all of you and walking through the city like a bunch of sore thumbs."
The governor of Utapau was Tion Medon, the Pau'an who had served as the Port Administrator of Pau City during the Clone Wars. The Empire had demanded that each planet under their purvey either selected its own governor or one would be appointed for them. If the Empire picked one, then it was almost guaranteed to be human. Regardless of the political power structure of the planet itself, the governor would have power that was equal to or greater than the head of state, given their direct connection to the Empire itself. So Tion Medon was selected to represent their planet so that, if nothing else, the people of Utapau would be represented by a being who actually lived on their planet. It was this practice that had, ironically enough, ingratiated several planets with non-human or even near-human populations toward the Rebel Alliance to give their support either through financial means or providing safe havens for rebels.
"Good afternoon, my friends," Tion Medon greeted them with a bow of his head. Though given how tall the species was, it was entirely possible that he had simply lowered his head to talk directly to them. The only people in the group taller than him were Chewbacca and K'Kruhk. "I understand that you have business today in the name of our… mutual interest?"
"We need to talk to Rahm Kota," Han told him, cutting right to the chase. "We have reason to believe he's here on the planet. I have a message to give him on behalf of Bail Organa and we need a response from him."
Tion leaned on his walking staff and nodded thoughtfully as he rubbed his pointed chin. "He conducts his business at 'The Red Bantha'," he told them in a hushed tone. "Though you will need to exercise caution," he warned. "The years have made him… paranoid, as I understand. It will take some convincing to prove to him that you truly are his allies."
Han looked back over his shoulder at the small army of Jedi currently at his back. "Don't worry," he assured the governor with a sly grin, "I've got just the trick."
The group walked into the city and found The Red Bantha after a few minutes of looking around. Han insisted that there was no need to ask for directions since they needed to limit the number of people they interacted with. The more people who they talked to, the greater the risk that when some Imperial came looking for them, there would be more people who could recognize them and give the Imperials information about them. Eventually, though, they were able to find the place. It was nearly abandoned, which was odd for the time of day. There was only the Pau'an bartender, two younger patrons- an orange female Zabrak and a purple male Twi'lek- playing a game of Dejarik, and the man they had come to see.
Seated in the back corner of the room, in a booth that wrapped around a circular table, there sat Rahm Kota. An older human, he had several scars on his face from the years of war, his hair a stark white and looked to be thinning from both age and stress. He had gauntlets, pauldrons, and a chest plate all of beskar over a brown leather overtunic and tan cloth pantaloons that had torn and been patched in several places. He eyed Han and his group suspiciously as they entered the bar and moved toward him.
"Who are you?" he demanded before Han could say a word. "Bounty hunters? Imperial dogs? Did the governor finally sell me out?" His brow furrowed harshly, which only accentuated the deep wrinkles in his brow.
"Relax," Han tried to assure him. "We're here with a message from Bail Organa, on behalf of the Rebel Alliance." Rahm did not seem impressed. Han reached for the recorder in his breast pocket and Rahm held out a hand suddenly. The recorder was yanked off of Han's person so viciously that it nearly took him off his feet. He watched the video, his expression unchanging. Which was not to say that he watched passively. No, he just kept scowling.
"Recordings can be faked," he said dismissively while tossing the device back to Han. "I could fly to Tython and find a Star Destroyer waiting to blast me out of the sky, or this Lord Vader character wanting to rip my mind apart."
"Can these be faked, friend?" Quinlan Vos asked as he and the other Jedi pushed back the hoods of their robes and revealed their lightsabers. They didn't activate the blades, which was good for Han as he was just a bit too close for the blades to come out all at once, but they did hold them out for Rahm to see. His own lightsaber flew into his hand and he stood up from his seat.
"Well. Look at all of you," Rahm said in a wistful tone. A tone that immediately became harshly bitter with his next words. "Finally decided to come out of hiding, huh?" he asked. The Jedi all stared at him, surprised at the disdain in his voice. "Spent enough time living in the shadows, forgetting what you are, and decided it was time to be Jedi again?" He scoffed. "Or did you all get this message? Were you all going to waste your lives scurrying under rocks unless someone asked you to do what was right?"
"You are unfair, Master Kota," K'Kruhk interjected. "Those in our order who escaped the purge have simply been trying to survive. Previous attempts to fight the Empire by individual Jedi were met with only failure and death."
"And the lesson we took from that, rather than band together, was to stop fighting altogether?" Rahm asked derisively. "Have I not been trying to survive?"
"Then why not join the Rebellion?" Qu Rahn asked. "Why continue this fight by yourself for all this time?"
"What have Organa or Mothma done to earn my loyalty?" Rahm shot back. "The same blind senatorial fools who elected Palpatine, giving greater and greater power to a Dark Lord of the Sith until there was no way to stop him? Who allowed the use of a clone army that was ultimately only loyal to the Emperor and ultimately killed us all?"
"Weren't the Jedi also blind, then?" Cilia asked. "We couldn't even see that the Sith were in control of the whole conflict until it was too late. Not even Master Yoda realized it. The rise of the Sith is as much our failure as it is anyone else's. We need to understand the arrogance of the Jedi and how we allowed ourselves to become tools of the Dark Side if we're going to rebuild and make something that will last after we defeat the Empire."
Rahm glared at her questioningly. "I don't recognize you, girl," he sneered. "You don't even look like a Jedi. Where did they dig you out of? Were you in the Agricorps?" He shook his head in disgust. "If the Rebellion found you when they were looking for Jedi, then they truly are lost."
Without another word, Cilia activated her lightsaber and raised the point of the blade to Rahm's face. Clearly, she was rusty when it came to the Jedi tenets of restraint. Rahm activated his lightsaber as well, and soon every lightsaber in the room activated and Han dove out of the way to keep from being surrounded by hot energy blades. "I am a fully trained Jedi Knight," she told him icily. "If you would like to test my mettle, Master Jedi, I will be happy to oblige."
Han held up his hands away from his blaster, figuring the last thing that needed to be added into this situation was more tension from more brandished weapons. "Hey, hey, hey!" He yelled to get everyone's attention on him, hoping to diffuse the situation. "How about everyone take a second and put the laser swords away, huh? Go back to being civilized people?" Something caught the corner of Han's eye and he looked back toward the bar, then did a double-take at what he saw. Not only was the bartender pointing a blaster rifle at them, apparently the cantina's staff were all part of Rahm's militia and had come through the door behind the bartender. One brown Ithorian, two Togruta, an Ortolan, two humans, and of all things, a purple Dug from Tatooine. All of them pointing blasters, except for the Ortolan. No, the blue-skinned, big-eyed, long-snouted creature was holding an orange lightsaber. Han noticed that the Zabrak and Twi'lek were also armed and also wielding lightsabers. A yellow for the Twi'lek and a blue for the Zabrak.
Slowly, the Jedi lowered their weapons. Cilia deactivated her lightsaber, then the rest of the Jedi. The militia members with blasters put them away, which gave the Jedi enough time to see the lightsabers that the other three had before they deactivated their weapons and were quite surprised by them. Rahm was the very last person to disarm himself.
"I see you've been busy, Master Kota," Rune remarked while gesturing to the three Jedi Rahm had been training. "All the more reason for you to marshal your forces with ours. To stand together!" Gungie growled his agreement.
This only earned them another disdainful wave. "I will not," Rahm insisted. "I will not offer subservience to those who have been too cowardly to strike while I have been fighting against the Empire since the day it was formed. Nor will I act as equal to those who forgot what being a Jedi means."
The air was thick with tension before Quinlan Vos shook his head and spoke again. "If that is truly how you feel, General Kota, then I'm afraid you're the one who's forgotten how to be a Jedi." The others nodded and put up their hoods as they turned to leave. Han and Chewbacca shared a glare at Rahm before following the rest of the group out.
"Ah, who needs 'em?" Han asked dismissively as they walked back into the Millennium Falcon. "We've already got six Jedi to their two Sith, right?" He was trying to convince himself as much as he was the Jedi. Mostly because it was undeniable that Rahm Kota would have brought decades of battlefield experience to the Rebel Alliance and hardened field operatives that the war effort needed against the Empire, even discounting the fact that he'd apparently either found or trained three Jedi.
"You must not be too harsh on Master Kota," K'Kruhk said to Quinlan as they found places to sit and Han prepared them for takeoff. "The Clone Wars affected us all deeply and caused many of us to change and trail closer to the edge of the Dark Side. He has never stopped fighting. Who knows what might have happened to all of us if the Clone Wars continued for so long?"
Quinlan shook his head as the ship began its liftoff and left the planet's atmosphere. "Then we don't need him in the new Jedi Order," he said firmly. "We don't need old hostilities poisoning the foundation of our future."
"Well, buckle in and get ready to figure out what exactly that future's gonna be," Han told them. "Next stop is planet Tython." The ship hummed and the stars stretched out into infinity as the Falcon made the jump to hyperspace.