EPISODE VI

Lights Gathering in the Darkness

It had been just over a month since Leia began her Jedi training under Obi-Wan Kenobi and somehow she hadn't accounted for just how busy it would make her life. Not only did she have daily training in some form or another– with the addition of particularly strenuous physical exercises to strengthen her body in concert with her connection to the Force- but she still had to read the Jedi texts Obi-Wan had given her the day he arrived on Alderaan while also maintaining her responsibilities as a Princess of Alderaan and her work in the Apprentice Legislature and working as her father's aide in the Imperial Senate. She had to do all of these things while maintaining her normal work ethic since the lessons were meant to be secret and it had to appear that nothing was amiss in her life. Which meant that there was precious little time in Leia's life for anything other than some kind of work.

"Do not grip the saber too tightly," Obi-Wan warned Leia as she pressed her attack, bringing her lightsaber down on an angle aimed for the Jedi Master's shoulder. "Your grip must be loose enough to be flexible, to move your wrist," he reminded her as he deftly deflected the blow. He made his own slash aimed for Leia's chest and she backflipped through the air, landing down in a crouch and charging forward in a burst of speed. Leia dug her feet into the grass and pirouetted, spinning toward Obi-Wan like a top. With another careful parry, Obi-Wan sent the lightsaber flying out of Leia's hand. "Not that loose," he taunted her. Leia watched her lightsaber fly and called out to it with the Force as she reached out a hand with outstretched fingers. The weapon returned swiftly to her hand and she activated it in the same motion as she brought it over her back to block an attack. "Impressive," Obi-Wan conceded proudly. Leia looked over her shoulder to smirk at him before whirling around, pushing him back as she brought her lightsaber around to her front again.

"I wouldn't be much of a student if I hadn't picked up a few things by now," she said before blowing a stray lock of hair out of her face. Obi-Wan took advantage of that momentary distraction to go on the offensive, this time coming in with an upward slash. Leia went to block the attack, but the force of Obi-Wan's blow caught her by surprise and sent her staggering back.

"You need to be able to gauge your opponent's attacks," Obi-Wan lectured as he followed through with a jab aimed for Leia's stomach, "To know when it is better to meet them directly and when it is better to simply avoid, to yield." Leia dove under Obi-Wan's attack and rolled quickly to her feet, turning to face him and swinging her lightsaber up from below. Their blades met in a harsh clash of light and sound, sparking and flaring.

"I hate to disappoint you, Master," Leia shot back as their lightsabers clashed again and again, "But I've never been one to yield! I don't see that changing anytime soon now that I'm a Jedi!"

"So I have noticed," Obi-Wan remarked dryly. While he could not deny that Leia had progressed at a truly tremendous rate in their brief time of training, she was still being held back from her full potential. Held back by her own nature. All he could do was try to teach her as best he could and to avoid the mistakes he had made while teaching her father.

Leia pursued Obi-Wan with a barrage of strikes, attacking from every angle, and he yielded ground with every stroke, stepping back further into the forest. When he felt his back press against a tree, he ducked under Leia's next swipe which went through the timber effortlessly, leaving a glowing, smoking stump as the rest of the tree began to topple. Obi-Wan moved quickly to his feet and flung out his hand to swing the tree directly at Leia. She looked startled for a moment before swinging straight down with her lightsaber, causing the tree to fall harmlessly on either side of her. But while her focus had been on the wood, Obi-Wan had used the distraction as an opening for his finishing blow and came down on her from above, swinging hard enough to knock Leia flat on her back. Obi-Wan landed on his feet with the tip of his lightsaber at her throat and Leia looked up at him more than a little annoyed. She let out a huff of breath and deactivated her lightsaber with a nod. Obi-Wan nodded in return and deactivated his own weapon, stepping to one side before offering her a hand to help her to her feet.

"Didn't think Jedi were supposed to use diversion tactics in a duel," Leia remarked, putting her hands back and pushing off with them to kip up from the flat of her back to her feet.

"In a more regulated manner, we would not," Obi-Wan conceded as Leia drank water from a canteen. "But I am not teaching you to fight in duels and I am not teaching you to fight Jedi. The Sith will not operate under rules of fair engagement and they will not stop if you yield. You must be prepared for every…" he stopped and held up a hand for silence. Leia looked at him suspiciously before realizing that she could sense it as well. They were not alone.

Obi-Wan's expression turned serious and his grip returned to his lightsaber. He did not sense the Dark Side but that did rule out Imperial spies or bounty hunters. He turned his head slowly and Leia silently followed his gaze to a shrub that had grown among the trees. The leaves on the branches were too thick to see behind it, which made it all the better as a hiding place meant for someone to do them ill.

Before Obi-Wan or Leia could make a move, two figures came tumbling out from behind the foliage and fell upon themselves in the grass before quickly getting to their feet. The first figure caused Obi-Wan to blink repeatedly in confusion. If not for the fact that this girl had white hair and the fact that Princess Leia was standing directly next to him, he could almost believe that the young woman was the Princess of Alderaan. She wore a dark blue bodysuit with light blue stripes up the sides beneath a dark green poncho that went down to her waist, white shoes, and her white hair was up in a high bun. She had an outwardly-calm and serene expression that belied a simmering panic beneath its surface.

The other girl, Obi-Wan did not know how she had managed to sneak up on them. He should have been able to hear her outfit. She had on a pleated skirt that stopped just above her knees and shimmered and shone like a mirror with every movement; a flowing blouse that shone with a dozen different colors of gold, green, blue, and purple; and black thigh-high boots with matching black fingerless gloves that flared out at her wrists. Her wavy hair hung around her shoulders, as red as an old star with the tips dyed yellow. All in all, she rather looked like some sort of exotic bird. Where the first girl had been a near-mirror image of the Princess, this brightly-colored young woman had a slightly longer face, higher cheekbones, and sharper features. She also wore a bright grin on her face, as if she had found where her parents had hidden her Life Day presents.

"Ah ha!" she cried triumphantly as she pointed a finger at Leia. "So this is why you never have time to hang out anymore!"

Leia, for her part, looked absolutely mortified. "Winter! Amilyn! What are you two doing here?!" she demanded as her face burned bright red.

"This is my fault, Leia," Winter insisted. "I should have made it more clear that you were very busy these days and did not have time to–"

"Oh, no, you said plenty," Amilyn cut her off flippantly, "I just wasn't listening. I barely ever see you anymore, Leia! It's like as soon as a Junior Legislature session ends, you've got a cloaking shield on and you just disappear! Not to mention you've completely stopped replying to my messages when I ask you to hang out. Very suspicious!" she pointed out, putting her hands on her hips and leaning forward at the waist with a coy smirk.

"I admit I also have had my concerns," Winter confessed. "I've done my best not to pry into your schedule but… with our connection, it wasn't hard for me to tell that something was wrong." Winter wasn't strong in the Force, but she and Leia had always been very close from the time that they were young and had developed a very powerful bond. "So, when Holdo arrived and insisted that she wasn't leaving until she spoke to you in person…"

"Although, now that I see what all the fuss was about, it's hard for me to be mad," Amilyn admitted with a grin. But as she had invaded Leia's space and was poking the abs she'd developed that were exposed by her exercise top, it was clear Amilyn wasn't exactly referring to the fact that Leia was training to be a Jedi.

"Will you stop that?!" Leia protested, swatting Amilyn's hands away as her face burned red for an entirely different reason.

"Yes, well, it was nice to meet the two of you," Obi-Wan said before holding up a hand. "You have not seen any of this," he told them with a slow wave. There was a certain serene quality to his voice and a weight to it, something powerfully suggestive. "You will forget that this ever happened and return to the palace. The Princess is very sick and cannot accept visitors at this time." He lowered his hand with a confident smile tugging at the corners of his lips. That should fix that.

Amilyn and Winter shared a look with one another. Then back at Obi-Wan. Then back at each other. Then back at Obi-Wan. "...No we won't," Amilyn told him. "What are you talking about?"

Obi-Wan's smile faltered.

"I'm very confused," Winter admitted. "Leia isn't sick. I can see that she's fine."

"Fine is debatable," Leia grumbled with her face in her hands while Obi-Wan held up his own hand and scowled at it as if it had betrayed him. "What was that supposed to do?" she asked him.

"It would appear you have very strong-willed friends," Obi-Wan grimaced. He certainly hoped Bail's plan was at least working accordingly.

OoOoOoO

"I'm gonna kill Elthree," Han murmured with a scowl as he pushed through the crowded streets of one of the various bridge cities of Cato Neimoidia.

Chewbacca snarled his agreement. He didn't like crowds and he didn't like the industrial smells of big cities. They made him long for Kashyyyk.

That wasn't a real problem for Han. He didn't mind cities. If anything, he felt more comfortable in them. Not that he was necessarily a fan of the sort of city that was hanging between two giant stone pillars over an endless sea of literal acid. No, Han's real problem had come from the job itself. The money wasn't the problem. The senator from Alderaan had promised a thousand credits per week as long as he received some kind of status update with a twenty percent bonus for each Jedi successfully located and ferried to Tython. The problem was that the job was too much stress! He already missed the jobs Jabba or other scumbags would give him. Nice and simple, under the radar. Take a shipment of this or that from this planet to that planet, avoid Imperials. Few thousand credits now, a few thousand credits when it was finished. Point A to point B. Cargo didn't talk and it was easier to hide than people if you needed to. This had been two weeks of a wild bantha chase. Going from planet to planet, chasing rumor after rumor. Apparently, this Quinlan Vos guy had to be pretty good at avoiding the Imperials. Which was great for him, but a real pain in the ass if you were trying to find him. They only had this last tip about Quinlan's supposed most recent location from Lando, and even then, L3-37'd had to flutter her proverbial eyelashes to get it out of him. He could understand Lando not wanting to get too involved in the conflict. Hell, Han could barely believe he was in this stupid conflict now. But still. Some friend, huh?

The tip had brought them here, to Cato Neimoidia. A world of lavishly adorned, opulent cities, the former powerhouse of the Trade Federation was clinging to an idea of wealth and station in the galaxy that had died when Darth Vader removed Nute Gunray from power by removing his head from his shoulders. Little more than a vassal state of a planet now, they still presented themselves as a seat of power despite the fact that the Empire basically took whatever resources it wanted from them. All in all, the last place one might expect a Jedi to be lying low. Which, Han supposed, made it the perfect place for a Jedi to do exactly that.

The name of the cantina where they would supposedly find Quinlan, when translated to Galactic Basic, was "The Sizzling Sea." Apparently, the name had a much more musical quality to it in the native language. They walked up to the front door and were stopped by, of all things, a Codru-Ji. Han had hardly ever seen one of these flat-faced, four-armed weirdos. Supposedly, they never left Munto Codru. A particularly strange race of sentients, they actually started life as six-legged dogs called Wyrwulfs before they pupated and became humanoid around puberty. The guy was less than two meters tall but he was nearly twice as wide as Han, powerfully built and all muscle, with a mean look and broad shoulders. All four of them. From his scars and the way he was dressed– a lot of leather and buckles– Han would guess he was a pirate when he wasn't manning the door.

"Haven't seen you before," he remarked in a voice that came from low in his voice. The sort of sound that reminded you that these people started as dogs. "You fellows know the password?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure," Han muttered before thinking about how exactly Lando said it was pronounced. Times like this, he wished he had a Protocol Droid. It would probably make his life so much easier. "The purpose… is profit," he said in Pak-Pak, the primary language of Cato Neimodia. Apparently, it was something that Nute Gunray had been known for saying. There were still those on the planet who saw the Empire as nothing more than a continuation of their enemy the Republic.

The Codru-Ji seemed to regard them suspiciously before Chewbacca growled and he swallowed nervously, stepping aside. "Enjoy your time, gentlemen," he said as he opened the door.

Han looked back over at Chewbacca and gave his friend a smirk. "The great negotiator," he observed playfully. Chewbacca chuckled as they made their way over to the bar. The interior of the bar was less ostentatious than the rest of the city outside, a welcome change from the noise and bustle. There were long bench seats along the walls upholstered in crushed velvet and lounge chairs around the tables. There were low-level lights hung from the ceiling that flickered and fluttered in a way meant to simulate candle flames, and off in one corner of the establishment, there was a band playing soft, low-tempo jizz music. A classy kind of place. For a moment, Han thought that if every Jedi were hiding out in a place like this, maybe this gig wouldn't turn out to be so bad, after all.

"What can I get for you fine gentlemen?" the bartender asked. She was a smartly-dressed Clawdite in formal evening wear: a shimmering purple dress with a plunging neckline and an embroidered design of starry swirls, as well as a single sleeve of cream white that went from her shoulder down to her wrist that looked more like a separate accessory than part of the dress. She wore a silver choker around her neck and three golden studs along her left brow. Han wondered idly if those piercings were to make up for the fact that Clawdites had no outer ears. It was rare to know for certain when you were in the presence of one, mostly because every Clawdite Han had ever met was shapeshifted to look like someone else trying to get the jump on him or swindle him. But this one was wearing her natural face. Leather-like orange skin, pushed-back nose, and cheekbones so bowed they made her cheeks look sunken. And the aforementioned lack of outer ears. Still, as Clawdites went, she was certainly pretty.

Han was halfway to ordering a pair of jet juices for them both when Chewbacca made an annoyed chuff of a sound and elbowed him in the side. Right. The second part of the code. The password was just to get in the door. To see Quinlan directly, supposedly, required another step. "Ah, let me get a vagabond shot." A silence hung in the air for a few seconds and Han had a chance to wonder if she was about to tell him that they didn't serve that anymore. If she did, he was going to scream.

The bartender gave Han a serious look before taking a step back. "One moment," she told them before turning and walking out through a side door. They were left to their own devices for a good minute or so, the tension making Han's mouth dry and causing him to wish he really had ordered a drink first. Then Han felt a tap on his shoulder and he swung around, one hand hovering over his blaster. It was her again. "Go down that hall past the band," she instructed him, "Then take the second door on the left." Some cantinas, especially upscale ones like this, did have private rooms for entertaining a party. Apparently, Quinlan Vos regularly rented himself such a room.

'Thanks for that," Han said, taking a moment to calm himself down. They were not being followed. He'd covered their tracks. Everything was fine. Nothing to worry about.

Chewie gruffed out his approval and gave her an appreciative nod. He and Han followed her instructions, walking past the band and down the hall. The door opened before Han could touch the keypad.

"Cute trick," he muttered to himself as he and Chewbacca stepped inside. There was nothing to it. The Force wasn't real. It was all tricks and superstition. Some hokey religion. If it was so powerful, why were the Jedi dead and scattered to the wind like ashes? The man sitting in the corner did not inspire the immediate respect and reverence a Jedi was supposedly able to command, either.

Seated off to the side on the far end of the long, buffet-style table that took up the center of the room was a tan-skinned older man in a long black leather duster. Han could just make out a pair of tan breeches and black boots beneath the table, and he wore a dark red undertunic under the jacket that was the color of dried blood. He looked human at a glance but the long yellow stripe of a tattoo that crossed through the center of his face marked him as a Kiffar. His long, thick black braids were streaked through with white to show his age and his brown eyes regarded them with cool suspicion.

"Quinlan Vos?" Han asked as he prepared to take the seat directly across from Quinlan.

"I might be," the man said as he held up a hand to make them pause. "But I'm curious how you know that. Neither of you look like Jedi on the run. The Force is weak in you both," he remarked with just a hint of judgment in his tone. His hand started to go under the table and despite Han's immediate instinct to open fire, he didn't want to start a fight.

"Hey, buddy, do I look like an Imperial?" Han asked, gesturing to himself while visibly not lowering his hand far enough to go near his blaster.

"Actually, you look exactly like how an Imperial would dress to try to pass as a civilian," Quinlan retorted, unimpressed.

Chewbacca spoke up with a long string of barks and growls, lifting up the fur around his neck to show he wasn't wearing any sort of controlling equipment.

"Exactly, thank you," Han agreed with an appreciative nod. "If I was an Imperial, would he–"

"I heard what he said," Quinlan interrupted, which caught Han by surprise. He couldn't remember the last time he ran into someone who understood Shyriiwook. "Alright, fine," he told them, relaxing his posture. He put his hands back on the table and gestured for them to sit. "If you're not Imperials then why are you here?"

"I'm here…" Han paused before he sat down, hardly able to believe the words he was actually about to say. "I'm here representing the Galactic Alliance to Restore the Republic." Quinlan Vos raised an eyebrow. "I've been assigned a mission to bring you and other Jedi to convene on the planet Tython."

"Assigned by who?" Quinlan asked with a raised eyebrow. Han fished into one of the pockets of his vest and pulled out the recorder, pressing a button on its side and setting it down on the table. After a moment, a tiny blue Bail Organa flickered into view.

"Hello," the recording greeted. "This is Senator Bail Organa, calling on behalf of the Galactic Alliance to Restore the Republic. You might have heard of us referred to as 'The Rebellion'. I have a message for any and all Jedi in the galaxy. We need your help. We know that the Empire has the Dark Side tipping the scales of power in their favor. We are fighting to restore freedom and democracy with all the weapons that we have but we cannot do this alone. We need your knowledge, your strength. If you receive this message, please convene for a council on the planet Tython so that we may discuss a path to victory. We need your help. The Jedi Order served the Republic and its people for a thousand generations. Help us restore that Republic now. Please." The recording ended and Han and Chewie looked at Quinlan expectantly.

Quinlan closed his eyes in thought for a moment. The furrow of his brow implied a stormcloud brewing inside his mind. He sat up straight in his chair and opened his eyes. "Alright," he told them as he stood up from his chair, "Let's get moving."

A grin broke across Han's face as he and Chewie stood up. Finally, some luck! "That's what I like to hear," he said encouragingly. "Hey, you've helped all those Jedi disappear before. Maybe it's time for them to undisappear."

"No," Quinlan told him brusquely as he made his way to the door.

"No?" Han echoed, scooping up the recorder and pocketing it again before he and Chewbacca followed Quinlan out. "What do you mean no? Didn't you hear what he said?"

"Of course I did," Quinlan said, "But the people I worked with wanted to go to ground and hide. Most of them couldn't fight. Many were children who hadn't even been trained." He stopped at the front door and turned back to the bartender. "Take care, Bax," he said to her.

"May the Force be with you, Quin," she called back.

"Well that's just great," Han groused as they walked back out into the crowded city streets, making their way back to the Falcon. "So there's nothing you can do to help us?"

"I wasn't aware that I was supposed to help you," Quinlan shot back. "You're the one who's been paid to look for us, aren't you?" he asked sardonically. Han wondered if this was what it would be like to argue with his own clone. "Still… for Bail's sake… I might know something," he conceded.

OoOoOoO

"I swear, I'm gonna karking kill you!" Han screamed as he, Chewbacca, and Quinlan ran for their lives through the jungles of Vendaxa. Now what could cause a former Jedi Master, a fully grown Wookie, and a smuggler with pretty good aim to run for their lives?

Perhaps a trio of murderous Acklays, stomping after them with spear-like legs, crushing claws, and razor-sharp teeth.

"I said he was somewhere on Vendaxa, I didn't say I knew exactly where!" Quinlan reminded them.

Chewie roared and turned back to fire a few shots with his bowcaster, which staggered one of the beasts as the bolts collided with its armor.

"My sentiments exactly," Han agreed. "Why don't you use your magic powers and kill them already?!"

"I swore long ago that I would never use the Force to kill," Quinlan insisted. "Never again."

"Does that extend to your laser sword?!" Han asked irritably.

"I can take one of them but I'd need you two to distract the others!"

Chewie let out a bark of dismay as a rock wall came up swiftly in front of them, cutting off their escape. The trio spun quickly to put their backs against the wall as the acklays began to circle around them and prepared to strike.

"This is the absolute stupidest reason for me to die," Han snarled under his breath.

"Trust in the Force, Solo," Quinlan assured him as he activated his lightsaber, illuminating his face with a jade light.

Chewbacca roared out a challenge at the monsters, who screamed in response. One of them made a move to lunge when a harsh, braying roar pierced the jungle cacophony and a being crashed down through the canopy, their descent made all the sharper by the emerald glow of a lightsaber blade. The figure slammed down into the backs of the acklay on the left, his blade easily piercing its hard armor shell. It screamed and thrashed under this assault, swaying violently away from its fellows. Quinlan Vos gave a yell and called upon the Force to leap high into the air at the center acklay to attack its long neck. Han let out a war cry that was equal parts jubilation and frustration as he charged forward before sliding onto his back, lighting up the exposed belly of the remaining acklay with rapid-fire shots from his blaster, peppering it with holes as fast as his trigger finger could fire. The beast reared back and screamed in pain and rage, leaving an opening for Chewbacca to fire with his bowcaster again, this time hitting that same exposed flesh. Bloody chunks were ripped out of it and the monster toppled backward, crashing hard onto the jungle floor. Quinlan Vos's acklay, now absent its head and most of its neck, collapsed on top of that one shortly thereafter, crushing out what remained of its life.

Standing on top of the corpse of the third acklay was, apparently, their Jedi. He was covered in white-gray fur, with the exception of his long, broad face, which had piercing black eyes, slit-like nostrils, and a set of short tusks that jutted up from his upper lip. For clothes, he only had a brown loincloth to cover his modesty. Han had only seen a handful of Whipids in his life but this fellow was certainly big. He was taller than Chewie! Only two Jedi and the Falcon was already going to be crowded. Wonderful.

"Told you I knew where he was," Quinlan breathed as he gave Han a satisfied smirk. If looks could kill, Han would have dropped the Jedi Master where he stood. Quinlan shrugged and gestured to the man. "Gentlemen, I give you Jedi Master K'Kruhk." K'Kruhk, apparently, held a hand up to the sky as he deactivated and clipped his lightsaber with the other. A conical straw hat floated down from the trees and landed in his outstretched hand. He put the hat on and bowed his head as he hopped off the dead animal.

"Master Vos," he greeted in a rumbling voice that, while similar in many ways to the sound of a thundercloud, had an almost inherently pleasant quality to it. "It has been far too long," he told the other as he pulled him into a tight hug. "It's good to know that there are some of us who still live."

"That's… what I wanted to talk to you about… big guy!" Quinlan gasped as he was lifted bodily off the ground and the air was squeezed out of him in a friendly way. "Anytime, Solo!"

"Ohhh, no," Han told him with a smirk. "I'm gonna give you two a moment."

"Solo!" Quinlan snapped as his face began to turn red, which was also a cue for K'Kruhk to let go of him.

Han let himself have a laugh before taking out the recorder and playing the message for K'Kruhk. The Jedi Master nodded and stroked the beard-like fur at the bottom of his jaw. "Very well," he agreed with a nod. "We have been out of the fight too long."

"Great," Han said quickly, turning and heading back toward what direction he was reasonably sure the Falcon was in. "Let's get back to the ship before something else tries to eat us." The faster Han got this done, the faster he and Chewbacca could get back to a normal smuggling job. With all these Jedi around, they might wind up turning Han into some kind of idealist.