Chapter 41: The Unready Master
"You have been avoiding me."
The boy didn't look up, he simply watched the rising sun. He sat with his back to her, staring out over the water.
He was not that different than most humans his age, especially the ones enduring Jedi training. He had an athletic build, and would be considered handsome with his bright eyes and short black hair cut in the style of a padawan.
She tried to ignore the fact that his features so resembled the one he had been created from.
She pushed such thoughts aside, that didn't matter, not now.
Right now, she was simply trying to reach him.
When the boy answered, his voice was cold, and without emotion.
"Why would I be avoiding you…master."
Shyra frowned slightly.
He spoke the title of master with such…contempt.
Had he ever spoken to Vey that way?
She doubted that.
This was not how it was supposed to be. Vey had charged her with completing Zhar's training, but the boy had barely spoken to her since his former master had become one with the Force.
He had fallen into…she didn't think it was despair, but a sullen silence. She could sense both anger and grief when she looked at him. He was trying to work through it, but…
He should know better, the thought came unbidden, and was quickly rejected.
The boy was mourning, she understood, she was still mourning as well.
It was easy to blame the witch for what had happened. Her…whatever it was, ritual…or whatever she had done with those keys had caused Vey's death.
Another mark between them…
…another red mark in a ledger that she would love to wipe out.
As a Jedi, she had learned to have patience, Avaryss would come back into her orbit soon enough, she didn't need to chase her.
That fight was still in the future, Zhar is what mattered right now. Making sure he could see what had happened, and deal with it in a way that her master would have thought proper.
The boy felt anger, Shyra didn't fault him for that. Vey's death had caught them all by surprise, she had used the Force up to the very last moment to stay in this world, and she had done so admirably.
She had always been very strong in the Force, had been Master Vey…
…but no one could hold off their end forever.
Since her passing, Shyra had been forced to take up the mantle of leadership for the Survivors, the others of their group looked to her for guidance. She had thought that Cooper would take up the reigns, or perhaps maybe Gnar, but both of the older men had refused.
"A Jedi has always looked out for Survivor Squad, kid," Cooper had said, "Vey would have wanted that to be you."
"I am here if you need any council, young one," Gnar had said, "But this is your fight, your war. I will do what I can to help you against my people, but it must be you that leads."
In the end, she had accepted. They had all agreed to follow her, even Merrit and Bayla.
She would do what was asked of her, but leading the group wasn't the only charge she had been expected to take up. There was still the matter of her late master's padawan.
It now fell to Shyra to see that the boy was trained as a Jedi, even if she wasn't sure that he should be.
It was not something she wanted to admit it, but she could not hide from her…opinions.
She knew the truth about the boy, how he had been born, or rather…created. His parents had been members of a Sith cult, one loyal to the teachings of Exar Kun.
Zhar Darklighter had been grown from cells of the fallen Sith Lord, cells preserved for centuries, he had been meant to lead a new Sith brotherhood, to become the new Exar Kun, perhaps even to replace Vitiate as Emperor.
The sickness that had claimed his home world had ended that plan. The boy's "parents" had died with the other adults. Zhar and the other children had survived, but they had been left alone. In the end, the boy became a chieftain on his world, helping his people, until Vey had found him, and brought him out into the galaxy.
Vey Ilo had saw Zhar as a chance to turn something dark and make it a beacon of the light. She didn't believe that the boy was bound to the dark side, despite what those that had created him had believed. She had been determined to prove that the boy could be a Jedi, thereby ensuring that he could become a force for good, and that the legacy of Exar Kun would never return again.
A lofty goal, and an admiriable one.
Vey could have done it, Shyra was sure of that, whether she could…well…
…that was the question, wasn't it?
Zhar was not the first choice she would have said in training her first student, but she had given Vey her word?
She was not sure she was ready, but she could not be sure that any Jedi would be. Vey believed in her though.
She was determined not to fail.
Yes, Vey had believed in the boy, but since her loss, he had fallen into brooding. He had pulled away from the others, even Bayla and Merrit, who had spent time with him. She could feel his anxiety, his fear.
It now fell to her to do something about that.
"I will not leave you to face…whatever this is alone, young one. I promised Master Vey that I would help you."
The boy snorted and shook his head.
"I'm not sure if there is a way to help me, master."
Again, with that harshness in her title.
Shyra almost growled.
"We can talk about whatever you want," she offered.
"I don't need to talk."
She snorted.
"I'm not much of a talker, either. I've always preferred action to words."
She stepped back and shrugged out of her brown Jedi robe, and as she did so, she ignited her lightsaber.
She gave him a toothy grin.
"Wanna fight?"
He looked at her for the first time, his brow furrowed.
"I'm not in the mood to fight you."
"Mood rarely has anything to do with fighting," she reminded him, "When the time comes, you must be ready. That time is now, young padawan."
She twirled her green blade in a challenge.
"Let us see what you got."
The boy rolled to his feet, and ignited his own weapon. The twin yellow blades flared to life.
The weapon's hilt was shorter than standard double blades, and the thinness of it allowed the boy to twirl it like a baton from one hand to the other.
He did so now, as the two began to circle.
Shyra took in his stance, trying to gauge just how good her young student was.
She didn't have to wait long.
Zhar attacked.
His advance nearly caught her off guard, she was expecting him to come in slowly, unsure if this was right. Maybe even hesitant to strike a Jedi Master.
There was no hesitation, or carefulness.
There was only the flash of blades, and cold hard skill.
She was forced to give ground, more surprised than anything else, falling into the rhythm of Soresu, the defender's style. Though this was not her first time facing a foe wielding a double blade, she was still taken by surprise.
She now understood why her master had taken Zhar in.
The kid was good, really good. He may have held a double blade, but with his speed, and command and of the Force, he might as well been holding six. He pushed her back, whirling and jabbing out with his saber. He used the Niman style, but with an aggressive edge that made it, if not equal to Juyo, pretty damn close.
And he has only been training in the Force for three or four years.
That realization alone gave her pause.
Historical records said that Exar Kun was one of the greatest duelists of his age. He had been the first to develop the double blade, and pioneered using Niman as an extension of it.
Was this the style the boy used now? Was there something of a genetic link between him and the spirit of the long dead Sith?
Shyra's eyes narrowed.
No.
She refused to believe that.
Zhar was NOT Exar Kun.
He was a young man who missed his master, the woman who had taken him in, and showed him both love and compassion. Shyra could sympathize.
Vey had done the same thing to her.
She had taken the young beastling in. Trained her in the Jedi way, taught her to control her emotions, and give herself over to the light side of the Force. Shyra called on that training now, and let herself slip deeper and deeper into the light.
Zhar was good, he was VERY good, but he could be something magnificent. She could see him rising to the rank of battle master of the order one day. If he gave himself completely to the light, he would likely be almost unstoppable.
She had to show him that she could teach him about that.
She had to become his master…NOW.
She held firm against the storm that was his blades, and struck back, not to win, but to provoke. She played the defensive, letting him lead this dance.
Soresu was not her original form, but it was one she had studied intimately over the last few years. It was HER style, the witch's. When they finally fought, Shyra wanted to be ready, she wanted to make sure that Avaryss had no surprises for her.
If she was lucky, she could force Avaryss to face her with one of the more aggressive styles wear herself out.
Much as she was doing with Zhar right now. She needed him to play the aggressor.
He accepted that role, and kept trying to push her back only to have her parry his blows, and redirect his attacks.
After almost five minutes of this, the boy fell back, he was breathing hard and sweating.
Shyra, having conserved her power, still felt strong and fresh.
If she had to, she could do this all night.
"You're NOT trying to win," the boy growled, pointing his weapon at her.
She shrugged.
"I asked if you wanted to fight," she reminded him, "I never said that I wanted to beat you. To be honest, I don't know if I could, not right now. If I wear you down, however, well…I think that I have a very good chance of prevailing."
He glared at her.
"What is the point of fighting if you don't try to win?!"
"It is not always about winning."
The boy scowled.
"Fighting should be used to defeat an enemy. Isn't that right?"
"Sure."
"So if you don't even try to defeat them what is the point?!"
"A good question," she replied, "Tell me, young one, what does a Jedi use his or her powers for?"
"I don't…"
"What did Master Vey teach you. What does a Jedi use his powers for?"
The boy growled angrily, but did recite.
"For knowledge and defense, and never…"
He blinked, realization came to his eyes.
Shyra smiled.
"For knowledge and defense," she repeated, "Never for attack."
The boy lowered his blade, he seemed, shocked at what had just happened, or rather, she had broken through the wall of shock and anger that had been there since Vey had passed.
She lowered her own weapon, but did not extinguish the blade, just in case he was trying to bait her in his anger.
"There may come a day that you are called upon to give up your life for the Force. Where you are forced to fight, and hold long enough to ensure the escape of others, the survival of your fellows. On that day, you will not survive, but in buying time, in giving others a chance to live, and fight another day, the battle, the true battle may yet be won."
Now she turned off her saber, and put it on her belt.
"Ask yourself, Zhar, is that not winning? Even if you fall, if your sacrifice is worthy and true. If it helps others restore peace, isn't that worth fighting for? Isn't that…worth dying for?"
He was still breathing hard, but…she could see tears in his eyes for the first time. Tears he had not shed when Vey had died.
He powered down his weapon with a choked sob, he put it back on his belt, and stood there, lost in pain and loss.
She didn't let him suffer it alone.
She came to him, came to him and let him put his head on her shoulder.
When he reached out to hug her, she accepted, she held him, as he cried.
Her eyes stung with her own tears, her own pain at losing Vey.
The woman that had been more than a master to her…
…the woman…that had been almost a mother to her.
She could not say how long they stayed like that, how long they let themselves be lost in their sorrow, but finally he did pull away, he sniffled and wiped at his nose with his sleeve.
"I'm…I'm sorry," he said, "I…I should not have done that. I shouldn't have given in to my emotions."
She shook her head.
"Some Jedi will say that you should not mourn or miss those that transform into the Force. That is foolish in my eyes. Mourn them, yes. Miss them, yes, but also accept that such loss is a part of life. Be in that moment, feel those emotions, truly feel them, and let them pass. You are a mortal boy, Zhar Darklighter, and you will grow into a mortal man. You shouldn't deny your emotions. Feel them, accept them, and deal with those feelings. So that you will be free to do your job, to be the Jedi that Master Vey knew you could be, that now…I believe that you can be."
The boy looked at her, as if seeing her for the first time, a lopsided grin spread across his face.
"You sound like her."
That made Shyra smile.
"I like to think that she taught me everything she knew. It…it pleases me to hear you say that. Maybe I will not be such a bad teacher after all."
The boy barked out a laugh, tears still in his eyes.
"Back home, I lost many, but that was before I had hope, the tribe mattered, but I hardened myself against the loss. We loss so many to the sickness, the elders that hit adolescents, if I had stayed any longer I would have fallen ill. I accepted it, because my clan needed me. I thought I should do what I could before I fell. Vey, she…she showed me another way. She saved my tribe. She was something real, something I didn't fear losing…she was different, she seemed unstoppable, forever…"
The boy shook his head.
"I miss her. I…I miss her so much!"
"And part of you always will."
"Does it ever go away, that pain. For a Jedi, I mean."
"I don't think that it is meant to, but it will change. You will start to remember only the good parts, and draw strength from what she taught you. What she meant to you. I think…"
Her commlink beeped.
Shyra hissed, but answered.
"Shyra."
"The shuttle is coming in now, Master Jedi," the voice on the other end said, "You said you wished to be told when that happened."
"I did, and thank you."
She turned off the comm and turned to her student.
"Are you ready to meet some old friends?"
"Are they going to help us?" the boy asked.
"I hope so, yes. I think they will."
The bowed respectfully.
"Then lead on, master."
She nodded, that sounded much better than what he had said before. A student addressing a teacher…
…a teacher he had started to learn to respect.
She took that as a good sign.
Perhaps this would all work out after all.
Perhaps.
IOI
The two watched as the Republic shuttle came down with a gentle bump before them. The ship had circled the base once, before beginning its final approach.
Shyra Viel nodded with approval.
Considering everything that had been happening, caution was key, . The new Survivors were in an interesting place now, moving against a very dangerous enemy, an enemy who knew them intimately.
The beast woman's eyes narrowed.
Avaryss needed to be stopped, but they couldn't afford to be reckless.
She had used their willingness to fight against their enemies in the past. Manipulated them into serving the Sith, not their own goals.
The Survivors had learned a harsh lesson.
They could not afford to be so reactive. They needed to move carefully, and silently.
Now that the last two members of their group was here, they could do just that.
Zhar fidgeted at her side, the boy wiped at his eyes, some redness remained from their recent…encounter. He glanced at her, and received a reassuring smile in return.
They had a long way to go, her new apprentice and her.
She was sure that they could manage the journey.
I wasn't ready for this, she realized, but then again…
…was anyone?
The hatch hissed as the two came down the ramp, they both looked around, taking in the Squad's new base.
Shyra approached them.
"Colonel Locke, Dr. Tagge, welcome to Traevis."
"Master Shyra," the colonel answered with a nod, still wearing that old Sith officer's cap she had taken years ago.
She smiled.
"I trust your mission was successful?"
"We found Bayla Istillo, Colonel, and more…"
Dr. Tagge smiled as she approached Zhar.
"Greetings," she said.
"Doctor," he said with a respectful bow, "I'm Zhar Darklighter, Padawan to Shyra Viel."
"I'm pleased to meet you," she answered, once again turning to his master.
"Is HE here?"
Shyra nodded.
She didn't need to think about who he was. She had already sent a coded transmission, before their arrival here on Traevis.
The doctor already knew her son was alive, and here…safe.
"Zhar," Shyra said, "Could you take the good doctor to Temmin's quarters. I will meet with you later, and discuss our first lessons."
The boy nodded.
"I would say we already had it, master," he said respectfully, "But I will do as you ask."
He gestured for Dr. Tagge to follow him, while Shyra and Locke proceeded towards the base's, main hangar.
"He seems like a good one," Locke said, "Those eyes were a bit intense, though. I…I almost think I've seen his face before."
"He must just have one of those faces," Shyra replied.
She had no desire to tell the Colonel yet that the boy was grown from the cells of Exar Kun. She wanted her to see him as Zhar first, make her judgment from there.
Of course, Zhar was not the reason Locke was here.
"I will need to speak with the princess," the colonel said, "Before coming here, Beniko contacted me."
The colonel frowned.
"It seems you were right about the Avaryss situation. Lana's contacts within the empire have been telling her horror stories. Some kind of dark side shift that they are suggesting was caused by Avaryss."
The Jedi nodded.
"I felt it. I think every Force sensitive in the galaxy felt it. How does the alliance wish to proceed?"
"The alliance is still tied up dealing with Arcann. Its resources are needed there. Beniko is watching the empire, making sure they don't get involved by dropping in on Avaryss' side. While that is going on, you and I are charged with disrupting Avaryss' operation, liberating Bantoon if we can, and eliminating this rogue Sith."
Again, Shyra nodded.
"We've started building forces here. Temmin also had dealings with a pirate group that may help us. Coop is on board as well."
"The Resolute group is with us, as are polearm and wolf squadrons," Locked added.
Shyra nodded in approval.
She liked that her boys and girls would be standing with them.
This is a good start, she thought.
We might just be able to do this, provided we can keep things quiet for the time being.
"How is the rest of your team?" Locke asked her.
"Functional," Shyra answered, "They are slipping into their new roles, even the Hutt. We have a plan in place to insert into Bantoon itself. Start striking Avaryss on the ground, and weaken her hold on Bantoon. The princess has even brought the bounty hunter Kalo Nord onto our side. He is going to help us get Merrit in."
"Merrit Fallenstar," the Colone said, "Yes, you mentioned him in your report."
Locke looked at her.
"How did you manage to get Nord on board?"
"I didn't. Bayla did. She spoke to him in private, and whatever was said…"
Shyra shrugged.
"Whatever it was, it worked, "Quire sent a message to Avaryss as Kalo Nord, now we wait and see if she bites."
It was a risk, the Jedi knew, but a necessary one.
They had to get to Bantoon, and this was the best way.
Everything was up to Merritt now.
Hopefully he was ready.
"How is Mister Fallenstar, or rather Fenn? I've only read reports about him, and you said in your communication that he had changed."
Shyra nodded.
"Yeah, he is not the man we knew. When he called himself Fenn he was more of a straight up Jedi, now…"
Shyra shook her head.
"Well, you will see for yourself."
They approached the Knightfire, it was getting late and the ramp was up, not that that had had anything to do with it.
Shyra quirked her lips.
Merrit and Bayla were not exactly…discreet in what was going on between them. Since emerging from their ship a few days ago, their every motion and breath suggested they had become a couple.
Shyra was not surprised, considering what had happened with her and Kort, she knew how such things could grow.
In fact, on some level, she approved.
Merrit needed someone in his life, before that, he had been drifting lost in darkness. He needed someone who reminded him that there was more than just that darkness, and Avaryss.
Bayla fit that bill nicely.
"Princess," she said into her commlink.
No response.
"Princess Bayla?"
There was static, followed by a sound of fumbling.
"Yes…um…yes, Master Shyra?"
The girl sounded a little out of breath, and flustered.
Shyra didn't comment on that.
"Can you and Merrit lower the ramp, I've brought someone who needs to speak with you?"
"One moment."
The two stood and waited, Locke didn't seem insulted, if anything she was amused.
"So, they live on the ship, together?"
Shyra nodded.
"The way you say 'together' is fairly accurate."
The Colonel chuckled.
"Well, can't say Fenn's choice in women hasn't changed, for the better, I think."
Shyra shrugged.
She was not in any position to make that kind of judgment.
The Knightfire's loading ramp lowered, Bayla Istillo was waiting for them.
"Master Shyra," she said, "I…"
She saw the Colonel, her smile grew wider.
"Major Locke!"
"Colonel, now, actually," the older woman said, with a bit of a bow.
"I see the little girl, I knew, in the young woman before me."
The girl was beaming, carefully trying to adjust her top. She looked a bit disheveled, her hair was mussed, and she was a bit sweaty.
Her shirt was also inside out, Shyra recognized, like it had been thrown on in a hurry.
She saw no need to comment further.
She could put one and one together.
"I have come at the behest of the Alliance," Locke said, "We are ready to work with you in helping to liberate your home."
"I'm glad to hear that, come on board, please. Ritt, we have guests, Galadriel Locke!"
Merrit's voice emerged from within the ship.
"Show her up, please, I was hoping to speak with her again."
The three women went up the ramp and into the main salon of the ship. Shyra noticed that it hadn't change much from when Jas Dar Bynn owned it. Merrit Fallenstar had not made many changes.
"Major?"
Merrit Fallenstar stood before them, unlike Bayla he was not fully dressed, wearing dark blue sleeping pants, and a long blue matching robe.
Locke offered him a salute.
"Glad to see you still among the living, kid. When we fled Survivor Base, we all feared the worst."
He nodded grimly.
"My survival was not an easy thing, ma…excuse me, Colonel."
Locke gave him a wry smile.
"I think we can drop the whole titles thing. You can call me Gilly, if you like. I say you earned that right. You saved my life once, and nearly lost yourself in doing so."
Merrit shrugged.
"What happened, had to happen. It brought me to this place, and to finding the strength to find my way back into the light again. It…it isn't all back, yet, but thanks to Back-up, I'm getting there."
"You just needed a helping hand," The princess replied, "I was happy to do what was needed."
He nodded again, offering her a warm smile, producing a blush on the girl's cheeks.
He turned back to Locke.
"I had hoped we would meet again, I…I have something for you. Something that belongs to you by right."
He reached out with the Force, and pulled a large leather-bound folio to his hand. He walked up, and placed it in the older woman's arms. She gasped when she realized what it was, her eyes widened with surprise.
She ran her fingers over the cover, as she had done many times in her youth.
"Krys', sketch book," she gasped, "Where…how did you get this?"
"The Sith took it from Survivor Base. It was left behind with Krys, after he…"
Merrit shook his head.
"I gave his body to the pyre, him and the others. They deserved that much, I honored them the best that I could. I almost let that burn with him, but…"
Merrit shook his head.
"It wasn't right to burn it. Krys, he…you two mattered so much to him. He…I think he would have wanted you to have it."
Locke opened the book, gently turning the pages, looking at the sketches done by her former commander and lover.
She looked over the faces of the men and women she had served with, many of who had died during the last war. She stopped briefly to see one of the pictures of herself, as a young woman, younger even than Bayla was now. Finally, she turned to her favorite drawing, the one that Capistan had done looking in the mirror, long ago.
She looked at the young man she had known all those years ago, and thought of what they had shared, and what they had lost.
Tears ran down her cheeks.
The old soldier sniffled.
"Oh Krys," she whispered.
Shyra watched closely, wondering how this would play out.
She had feared that Locke might have had some resentment for Merrit, after all, he was the one that helped convince Master Jas and Colonel Capistan that Avaryss could be an ally.
That had not worked out, of course, but as she watched, it was clear that the old soldier didn't blame the young man. Especially now, especially after what he had given back to her.
She clutched the book to her chest, even while wiping at the tears.
"Thank you, Merrit. I…I don't know what to say."
"Say nothing," he said, "I know what my choices cost you, cost all of us. One day, I will ask your forgiveness, but not until everything has been put right. Not until Avaryss has finally been stopped."
Locke sniffed again, and stood straighter.
"About that, I have to ask you, kid, and I need to know. How far are you willing to go with this? How far are you willing to go to stop her, stop her for good."
Merrit glanced at Bayla and Shyra, the princess gave him a hopeful look, one born of hope and love.
Locke was all duty, despite the gift that Fallenstar had given her.
"I'm willing to go to the end," he said, "No compromise, and no quarter. I'm willing to go to the very end."
Shyra watched the Colonel, and saw the hardening in her eyes, even as she seemed to draw strength from the book that had once belonged to the man she loved.
"To the end, then," Locke said offering her hand to Merrit.
He took it, and shook it gladly.
"To the end," Bayla said placing her hand on his shoulder.
Shyra growled in anticipation.
It is almost time, witch, she thought.
The final dance, and at its end, only one would likely walk away alive.
She couldn't say she was ready, not yet, just as she was not sure she was ready to teach her new student. An unready master she might be, but she was willing to do what was needed. She still had to get her people down to Bantoon. Once there, they would be able to start setting things right.
Whatever it takes, she thought.
To the end.