Faded

[Matt]

(Part 1 of 3)

Nine Years Ago

Kinian Seti backpedaled under the weight of the assault. His boots skidded along the forest floor, kicking up dirt. He sensed what was coming next – to a point. The Force guided his movement, but he couldn’t fully let go of his senses. He heard the hum of her lightsaber and knew its trajectory, felt the vibration of her steps, and retreated accordingly. But his hands sweated. His grip on his lightsaber was slipping as he moved it up and down, left, right, and then back up. He heard a loud crack overhead, the herald of a falling branch.

Just then, his opponent swung right and hard at his lightsaber blade itself. His bottom hand slipped off the hilt. His gripping arm flew wide, leaving his front exposed. He felt his diaphragm temporarily spasm, the too familiar feeling of having the wind knocked out of him. He hadn’t seen her kick him in the sternum but knew that’s what happened. He saw the treetops above before he felt the numbing sensation in the back of his head caused by the human-sized tree root he landed on. During the fall he must’ve lost his grip on the lightsaber entirely. He couldn’t feel it in his hand anymore. Just cold dirt caking on his sweaty hands as he gripped the forest floor, trying to orient himself and catch his breath.

His vision darkened as a shadow came over him. A lithe human woman blocked his view of the sky. Her dark hair hung in a single knotted braid down her back, but some strands had come loose to hang over her eyes. A single bead of sweat ran down her face, which was just beginning to show lines of age. She waved the tip of her blue lightsaber blade back and forth over his face, both to coax him out of his apparent daze and make the obvious point: “I beat you,” she said. “Again,” she added. She deactivated the lightsaber, and he heard her clip it to her belt, leaving only the sound of the wind in the trees.

Kinian’s diaphragm slowly started to function again, and he inhaled as much air as he could, holding his breath. He blinked a long blink, and by the time he opened his eyes she was gone. Once he could take a few shallow breaths, he lifted his head and saw her walking toward a large tree trunk across the small clearing. She picked up a canteen and drank from it, then splashed some water on her face, using her hand to wipe sweat and dirt away. She replaced the cap and threw the canteen to Kinian’s side. He propped himself up on his elbows. “That’s why you’re the Master, Master,” he retorted.

She put her hands on her hips, breathing heavier than usual but otherwise unfazed by their match. She briefly inspected her boots, kicking one against the other to knock dirt loose. When she finished, she stared at him blankly. “You were distracted,” she said flatly.

Even though she hadn’t asked a question, Kinian could tell when her statements called for a response. “Yes, Master.” Kinian sat up to his haunches and drank from the canteen. “I heard a branch cracking in the distance.”

“You heard a branch cracking,” she repeated sardonically. “That’s not what I meant. You were distracted.” She sat down against the large tree.

Kinian scooted back against the tree root he’d fallen against. He set the empty canteen aside and picked up the blaster pistol he’d set nearby, putting it back in its hip holster. He spotted his lightsaber at the foot of a tall bush a few meters away. He extended his hand and started to recall it with the Force. It began to wiggle along the ground, but stopped, held in suspension. He looked to his Master.

She also had her hand extended, obviously interfering with his attempt. She was still staring blankly at him. She shook her head. “Go pick it up.”

He almost rolled his eyes, but instead nodded a few times, then pushed himself up with his hands. He walked over to the unpolished hilt, brushing his hands off on his trousers as he went, dirtying them up slightly. “I was practicing, Master,” he lied between still-labored breaths. He picked up the hilt and shifted his jacket aside to clip it to his belt, a few centimeters from the blaster. He turned to look at her, feigning a smile through his exhaustion. “Anything else?”

She crossed one leg over the other and folded her hands in her laps. She smiled at him, pleased at having given him a menial physical task she knew he’d find annoying. “Don’t be lazy,” she said backhandedly. “Practice with rocks. And you know how I feel about you having a blaster. You can sit now. What were you thinking about?”

Kinian went back to his tree and took up the same cross-legged position opposite hers. He put his face in his hands, rubbing it, as if to rub tension away, and smudged dirt on it. After a few rubs up and down, he ran his hands back through his short, brown hair and finally leaned his head back against the trunk, crossing his hands in his lap. “What’s next,” he said at last, stretching his legs back out, crossing one over the other.

She tilted her head. “That’s vague.”

He wondered if she read his thoughts and pretended not to know, so she could force difficult conversations and use them as teaching moments. He didn’t think she’d invade his mind that way, at least not unless she thought he was in danger. The Force didn’t lend itself to specific thoughts anyway, at least not without more effort than she was putting forth here. This wasn’t some pointed interrogation, just a conversation. If she was in his mind that way, he didn’t feel it. He was probably just being paranoid, a residual condition from previous teachers. “We’ve been on the Rim for a while now. When do we go back to the Core?”

“Go back?” she repeated. She looked down at her hands, then nodded. “I think I see what you’re asking.” She briefly spread her arms wide to encompass the forest surrounding them. “Maybe this is it. Maybe we don’t go back. We’re doing plenty of good work out here. Why would we go to the Core?”

Kinian shook his head. “Isn’t this a little beneath our remit? Resolving disputes with townies and whichever clan or syndicate is robbing them today? Interplanetary border disputes? I just feel like we could be doing more.”

“Oh? With all your years of experience as a Jedi Knight? What should we be doing instead?” She lifted her brow expectantly.

“Reintegrating with the rest of the Jedi out there. I know there are others. Reestablish some order.”

“Order?” she scoffed. “Be careful. But I think I know what you’re getting at. You think being a Jedi means inserting yourself into the Core’s political problems – which it’s had for millennia, by the way – and rubbing shoulders with politicians, and having high-minded debates on councils of wise Masters wearing robes.” She looked to her brown robe folded on the ground about a meter away. “Like that.” She pointed at it, smiling.

He wanted to resent her playful mocking sometimes, but it got the point across. “Well, yeah,” he held his ground. “Kind of. Isn’t that what you did?” He knew it was true without asking. She’d been part of that Old Order, a long time ago. She’d somehow ended up here and now because of the Rift or the Change or whatever one chose to call it now. The Force works in mysterious ways, she’d once told him to explain her sudden presence, which was just a Master’s way of saying she didn’t know why any of it had happened.

Her eyes softened. “I did,” she admitted. “But times were different. There were tens of thousands of us. The Republic was far-reaching. Some of us tended to the Core worlds and to matters of governance that you may think – but which, I assure you, are not – so high-minded. But how do you think that all lasted so long? All the Jedi just sat in the Temple on Coruscant and meditated for peace? We were spread out. Even on the Outer Rim; even farther. Resolving town squabbles with guilds and clans. And settling interplanetary border disputes. Keeping the peace in small ways is what kept the greater peace. And when we weren’t doing that,” she said, holding her hands out to physically draw his attention to the forest around them, “we trained.”

“I get that, Master. Shouldn’t we be trying to rebuild all that? I just–”

“You want to fight,” she said, another statement-question. “You have something to prove.”

Kinian looked incredulous. “No, Master, of course not. I’m not….” He enjoyed a good scrap. So did she, he knew. That didn’t make either of them any less Jedi. But he sensed she was talking about something else.

“You’re afraid of something,” she added. “Or someone. And you want to go play at being Jedi to prove them wrong. Stop me if I’m missing the mark.”

He shook his head, not following. He didn’t sense she was wrong, but he didn’t see how proving himself as a Jedi and his apparent fear of something or someone else was related, either. It’s possible she was leading him to a connection he hadn’t made yet. He was loathe to question her methods anymore.

He had sought her out, after all, following stints with other Masters who’d left him with a patchwork of skills in what he could only now identify as the Dark Side. Sorath. Serephes. Lang. He’d been rejected by other Jedi he’d found, few as they were. There’d always been some intergalactic crisis in the way. He’d only ever found tutelage in the Dark Side. It was a function of the Rift he’d found a Jedi Master willing to train him. She’d instantly picked up on his desire for instruction, and he’d followed her around ever since, for years now. “Who am I afraid of?” he asked.

“I can’t answer that.” She smiled sympathetically.

“You mean you won’t,” he retorted.

“No. I mean I can’t. I can sense your fear, but it’s up to you to identify it and work through it. And I suggest you do. If you want someone to invade your mind and tell you what to think and believe, I’d suggest you return to your former masters. But that is not the Jedi way. Nor is running off to inject yourself into intergalactic affairs, creating conflict where there is none.”

“Not creating conflict, Master. Just finding a bigger one.”

She shook her head. “That’s pride. Being seen being a Jedi is different than being a Jedi. Do you understand the difference?”

“I just want to do the things Jedi are trained to do.”

“Fighting Sith Lords?”

Kinian shrugged. “There must be a few still out there. Just like the Jedi.”

“I assure you the Force will guide us to them when we need to find them. We aren’t Sith-hunters. And the Dark Side operates in more ways than one. You don’t think the village squabbles and internecine conflicts on the systems we’ve been on are colored by the influence of the Dark Side? You haven’t been paying attention. The Sith aren’t the only enemy of the Jedi. Just the one that gets written about in all those old Legends.” She paused, staring intently at him. “You aren’t ready. If you fought any one of them now, you would fall.” She shook her head. “They have more than cracking tree branches to distract you with.”

“I’m getting better,” he argued.

“Yes,” she agreed, “but I’m not talking about your fighting ability. That could also use some work. But dying isn’t the worst outcome. I’m talking about the Dark Side. Your training with the others has left you vulnerable. They will tempt you, try to turn you. Use you for their own selfish ends.”

“They tried before, Master, and I still found you.”

She nodded. “The Force brought us together for a reason. Don’t give in to some vainglorious desire to be one of those Jedi who dies fighting the evil Sith Empire or whatever you read in some historical archive.”

“They’re still out there. In some form or another.”

“In some form or another,” she repeated. “And they always will be.”

“Isn’t it our job to stop them?”

“From doing what?”

“From….” Kinian shook his head and stood up. “I don’t know. Taking over the galaxy.”

“Please. Taking over the galaxy? So dramatic. I’m pretty sure we’d have heard about it if that was going on.”

“Lang almost did.”

“And he’s gone now. Just like all the others. They fade away.”

“Sorath is still out there,” he said.

“How do you know?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“I can still feel him.”

She nodded. “He scared you.” Another statement-question.

He sat back down, looked away. “Yes.”

“It’s only natural,” she said. “The Dark Side should scare you. And you were just a child. So that’s what you think we should be doing now. Chasing down would-be Sith Lords.”

“We’re Jedi. He’s a Sith Lord. It’s our job to stop him.”

“So you’ve said before. Did he tell you that?”

“Sorath? Yes. He’s a threat. I felt it.”

“He’s a pest,” she said dismissively. “One who is strong in the Force. And one who hurt you. That doesn’t mean we, as Jedi, should hunt him down and kill him. Just to make you feel better.”

“Master, it’s not just me. He’s a threat to others.”

She shook her head. “I don’t doubt it, in his own way. But we have more immediate concerns. There’s a farming village about 15 klicks from here. Isolated. Some raiders are pressuring them for credits. They don’t have many–”

“Farmers, Master?” he interrupted. “We should help farmers instead of going after a known Sith Lord?”

“A known Sith Lord? Based on events as you’ve described them to me before, Sorath is a pretender. Sith want power. How many so-called rulers have come and gone before I got here? You told me Sorath was always just on the periphery. Why not step into the void? How many chances did he have to seize the mantle and, how did you say – take over the galaxy? I know him,” she said. She hesitated. “I’ve known people like him,” she corrected. “He may be hurting someone, but it isn’t us, and it isn’t the people here who need our help. And we are here. The thing about Sith, if we’re going to call him that, is that they have a way of finding Jedi out in the galaxy doing Jedi things. Even the ones keeping the peace out here in the backwater. If he wants to come for us, he will.” She stood up. “We don’t need to go looking for a fight. A fight you’d most assuredly lose,” she dug, pointing at the ground where he sat, to remind him of his recent fall.

Kinian’s jaw dropped slightly. “Master….”

“Whatever conflict you have with him,” she continued, “it’s in your head. You were young. I don’t doubt he had an impact on you. But you must let it go.”

He knew she wasn’t wrong. He was afraid not for others, but for himself. He still had a connection to Sorath he couldn’t shake. She’s taught him that it wasn’t uncommon for those who’d had brushes with the Dark Side. There were others, too. Sorath just stuck out to him as the last and most recent before he’d begun to seek out the Jedi. He also had a more generalized fear, something he couldn’t particularize. “Yes, Master.” He stood up.

Her dark eyes were sympathetic. “You’re extremely capable. You had many opportunities to give into the Dark Side and didn’t.” She moved closer to him. “Being a Jedi isn’t about chasing down Sith Lords or lightsaber duels or intergalactic politics. Those things may come up, of course.” She pointed at his lightsaber. “Some days, you’ll need that.” She pointed at his blaster and smiled. “Never that,” she joked. She put her index finger on his forehead. “Mostly, what you need to be a Jedi is in here.” She stretched her arm out wide to the side. “And out there. In the Force. Do you understand?”

“I think so,” he said. He understood logically, but he didn’t feel what she was saying, that way he sensed that she felt it. “I think so,” he repeated, as if saying it again would make it true.

“You will be afraid. Of Sorath, of others, of circumstances and events. Count on it. Becoming a Jedi doesn’t mean you reach some higher level of existence where you don’t feel fear. It just means not letting it control you, not making decisions by it.” She stepped back. “If your mind is seeking the will of the Force, you usually end up on the right path. You’ll miss the mark sometimes, as I do. Being in touch with the Force isn’t a static thing. It’s all in the seeking.”

Kinian’s brow furrowed. He felt impatient with himself, frustrated for not seeing the bigger picture that he presumed she saw. He closed his eyes and listened to the wind blowing through the treetops. The Force washed over his mind. The fear remained. But it began to diminish, slowly. Too slowly.

“Like that,” she said.

He opened his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

She smiled and nodded. “Don’t be. That’s why we train. And talk. Which is also training.”

Kinian nodded and brought he conversation back to their presenting tasking. “We’re taking bounties now?”

“No.” She was incredulous. “Of course not. I just saw the bounty on the HoloNet. We’re going to go help them.”

“Not for credits,” Kinian said, as much a question as a statement. “Doesn’t seem like the Jedi way,” he added sarcastically. He picked up the canteen and fastened it to his belt, walking around her to leave the clearing.

“Not for credits,” she confirmed, smiling. She turned to walk with him. “Maybe for some fruits,” he added.

“Is that what they’re growing?” he asked.

She shrugged, following him into the woods. “I don’t actually know what they grow.”

He stopped to let her pass and take point. “And why do we care what happens at some farming village?” he pressed.

“We don’t,” she said, giving into his sarcastic impertinence for the sake of moving on. “But they’re farmers, so they probably have some food, and I’m hungry.” She brushed past him. “Let’s go.”

“So we are taking the bounty for a reward.”

“You know,” she called back, moving away from him through the brush, “I could’ve dropped that branch right on your head. Come along.”

He followed. “Yes, Master.”

[Matt]

(Part 2 of 3)

Two Years Later

Drev’starn
Bothawui
Mid-Rim

Kinian adjusted the binocs to get a close-up of the Bothan’s face. She was middle-aged, he thought, the long fur around her face greying at the edges. Their reports had said she was older than she looked. Her fur was combed neatly back around her feline ears. The colorful, silken robes she wore whipped in the wind passing over the landing platform, high above the bustling metropolis of the capital city, where she waited for her visitor.

The landing platform jutted out from a long walkway, suspended between two towers at either end but which was actually reinforced by silent repulsors so it stayed afloat hundreds of stories above the surface. Dozens of platforms lined either side of the walkway. Each platform accommodated many speeders of varying sizes, depending on their size. Hundreds of speeders passed by in fast-moving lanes between his viewpoint and the platform. Every few seconds, a speeder blocked his view through the binocs.

Her and her two companions. Two Bothan males flanked her on either side. They were dressed only slightly less elegantly. But their loose-fitting tunics poorly concealed the armor they wore underneath. And the butts of the heavy blaster pistols they wore on shoulder holsters.

Kinian lay prone on the emergency access platform of another tall building nearby, propped up on his elbows. The platform was small, just big enough for him and a two-seat speeder was parked at the edge. He’d gotten close enough to witness the scene through binocs, but if he didn’t have them, everyone would’ve seemed like tiny bugs.

Through the binocs, Kinian noticed the group attracting a few side glances from passersby. The female Bothan waited near the head of the platform where it met the walkway, which meant anyone entering or leaving had to pass close enough to her to notice her armed guards. There were so many beings around, though, on the platform and on the walkway behind them, that most didn’t give it a second thought or even notice they were there. He thought the whole thing was rather conspicuous. Suspiciously so.

His Master was mixed in somewhere in the crowd. He looked around the area of the platform, where a few beings milled about their ships, and then back up to the walkway, where hundreds – maybe thousands – of beings passed behind the group of Bothans each minute. He couldn’t spot his Master anywhere. That was the point, he supposed.

He lowered the binocs from his face and watched the rows of ships and speeders passing between him and the platforms across the way. He reached out with the Force, searching for a familiar presence. The one they were looking for. But he couldn’t feel it. Just his Master’s. “Master,” he spoke into the comlink strapped around his wrist. “Where are you?” he asked, holding the binocs back up to his face. “I can’t see you.”

“Good,” she said. “That means it’s working.”

They’d been watching the Bothan trader Kilm Pol’nya for months now. She dealt in rarities. Gems and stones. Art. Ancient weapons. Artifacts. Oftentimes, Sith and Jedi artifacts, which wasn’t particularly interesting by itself. Except that she’d more recently been a cutout for a mysterious buyer to acquire rare items of a very special variety from a resurgent Black Sun – Force-sensitive children.

Black Sun was full of unscrupulous kidnappers, and it had all seemed like typical – if unfortunate – kidnapping for ransom. His Master hadn’t found that particularly interesting, either, until after she’d met the parents of one of the children, who’d explained why their child was so special. Before him or his Master had made any effort to remedy the situation, though, the child was returned, unharmed, which only added to the mystery. They’d used some minor deception, rumors of Force-sensitive children, and some aggressive questioning of Black Sun operatives – who were now reconsidering their professions – to realize Pol’nya’s involvement. And the buyer, whose identity wasn’t so mysterious.

“What kind of sample would Sorath want from Yavin IV?” he asked through the comlink. “It’s just some jungle moon. An old Republic outpost.”

There were several seconds of silence, and he thought she might ignore him. He’d asked her before and she hadn’t said much, except to say she was just grateful it wasn’t a child. Or so she thought. “Did you read the history of Yavin IV, like I asked you to?” she finally returned.
She'd also told him that, he remembered now.

He lowered the binocs again, sighing. “I skimmed it, Master.” He put them back up in time to see the Bothan turn to one of the guards and say something to him. The guard nodded, speaking into a handheld comlink. “I think he’s calling her transport.”

“He is, I heard it,” she responded quickly. “Well,” she continued, “if you had read the history of Yavin IV, you would know it wasn’t just a Republic outpost. It wasn’t really a Republic outpost at all. It was a Rebellion outpost, during the height of Palpatine’s reign – and before the Rebellion became the New Republic. The headquarters was in an old temple that Luke Skywalker turned into a Jedi Temple after Palpatine died. The first time. Do you want to guess what the Jedi Temple was before? Let’s say, thousands of years before.”

“Sith Temple?” He remembered the word ‘Sith’ from the data readout.

“Sort of,” she corrected.

“Lucky guess,” he said sarcastically.

“Legends say a defeated Sith Lord traveled there and tried to recreate his lost Sith Empire. He built the temple. Or rather his slaves did. He died, in exile. About a thousand years later, another Sith – a fallen Jedi, really – started a war, killed a bunch of Jedi, and then fled hundreds of members of the Jedi Order who pursued him to Yavin IV. Right to the temple. Rather than face the hundreds of Jedi chasing him, he destroyed himself and trapped himself in the Temple. Well, he trapped his spirit. It wasn’t a Sith Temple, as such, but there’s a nexus. That’s the short version.”

Through their own contacts on Bothawui – Pol’nya’s home world – they’d discovered she was in the market for a sample of some kind from Yavin IV. A biological sample. From a temple. They didn’t have more information than that, except it was the same buyer as the one who’d been after the kids. She seemed to be working exclusively for Sorath. Of course, it made perfect sense that Sorath would want something from a Sith Temple, collector as Kinian remembered him to be. Now his failed reading assignment made more sense.

Just then a four-seat, closed top black speeder pulled off from traffic and landed on the platform not far from Pol’nya. The Bothan immediately proceeded to the speeder, her cadre in tow. A side compartment raised up and she disappeared into the speeder along with her guards.

Watching the scene unfold through the binocs, Kinian reached out through the Force, trying to sense who was piloting the speeder. He couldn’t sense any life forms at all, but there was only room for one other body in there. Probably a droid pilot. “I don’t sense anyone on board.” He looked around the speeder for his Master, but still couldn’t see her anywhere.

“There isn’t,” she responded. “It’s a droid. Come get me.”

Pol’nya had arranged for a team to travel to Yavin IV to collect whatever it was Sorath was after. They’d only found out about it after the fact and could have gone to Yavin IV when it was being collected. But Yavin IV was relatively uninhabited, except for a few small ports. Their presence would’ve been too obvious, especially if they’d had to descend into some ancient temple. And they wanted to trace the buy so its source. Children were a bridge too far for his Master. They’d settled on tracking Pol’nya herself. Now she was set to receive whatever sample on Yavin IV she’d asked for from a courier, one of the team that had gone to the jungle moon.

Kinian stood up, holding the binocs in one hand and using the other to adjust his belt. He shifted his lightsaber and blaster back to their places while he walked to the speeder. He jumped in, threw the binocs in the center storage compartment between the two seats, then fired up the speeder. He piloted away from the emergency access platform and turned toward the traffic lines separating him from the landing platform. Rather than jump into fast-moving traffic, he flew down several levels, going under traffic, and then back up. He ultimately flew up to the platform level, narrowly avoiding another speeder leaving one of the traffic lanes to land on the same platform.

Kinian landed approximately where Pol’nya’s shuttle had been a moment before. His Master stood where Pol’nya had been standing, arms crossed over her chest. Where had she come from? Kinian acknowledged her briefly, then turned his attention back to traffic, vaguely sensing Pol’nya in the distance. He heard and felt his Master jump into the speeder, but mostly kept his attention on traffic, tracking their quarry. As soon as his Master was securely inside, he launched off the platform and sped after the Bothans in the black speeder. He flew in and out of traffic lanes, careful to avoid collisions but apparently enraging some slower travelers who made rude gestures and yelled obscenities at him.

Once Kinian had a steady visual on the back of the black speeder, he matched speed and stayed back. He didn’t fancy himself a good pilot but was pleased with his tracking skills. He turned to his Master. "Really, Master.” He waxed incredulous. “Legends and thousand-year-old Sith spirits?”

She relaxed into the seat, finally clipping a safety harness over the front of her body, if a few moments too late. “Well, you wanted to chase the Dark Side. They’re usually after some ancient thing or another.”

“Yes,” Kinian agreed. “Maybe Kilm has the Sith spirit in her robes.”

His Master shook her head. Kinian didn’t see it, but he sensed it. “Don’t you ever worry your joking will get you in trouble?” He sensed she was smiling, too.

“That’s what the blaster’s for, Master.”

“I told you to get rid of that.”

He shrugged. “I’ve had it three times as long as I’ve had the lightsaber. It has sentimental value.” He watched the thrusters on the back of the black speeder, reaching out in the Force again, trying to read what was going on inside the ship. He sensed the Bothans, but only vaguely. They were blank slates. He knew Bothans were tough of mind. Probably what made them such great spies. “Doesn’t it bother you that he returned the children?”

“More than any other detail. Because I don’t understand it. If he’s taking samples from Temples and borrowing children, though, he’s probably doing experiments. With their blood.”

“Building an army of Dark Siders Force-wielders to take over the galaxy?”

She sighed. “Kind of cliché, don’t you think?”

Kinian shrugged again. “Seems to happen every few hundred or thousand years.”

“So you do read the feeds I send you.”

Kinian smiled. When he’d been under Sorath’s painful tutelage years before, Sorath had a vast collection of Sith and Jedi artifacts already. If there was some secret power, some hidden key to intergalactic dominance, it seemed strange that Sorath wouldn’t have already discovered it and used it. He doubted anything like that existed anyway. In any event, Sorath was already powerful in the Force. Kinian had felt it. What was he playing at, if not power? “Maybe not an army. But he’s using them for something. Why not just keep the kids?”

She looked over at him and smiled. “He doesn’t seem to be very good at parenting.”

“Funny.” He smiled, too, belying the deep scars he bore from his time with Sorath. The Dark Side had marked him in ways that hadn’t fully healed yet. “That still doesn’t explain Yavin IV.”

“They might be unrelated,” she said.

“You don’t believe that,” he said, a statement as much as a question.

“No,” she agreed. She sensed the connection between events, too. A feeling in the Force. Vague, but from a source she’d learned to trust long ago. “I don’t.”

The black speeder left the main traffic lane, veering off to the right into a lane with fewer speeders – and a few ships – headed toward one of the starports near the edge of the city. Kinian followed but left the new lane of traffic briefly to let other speeders get ahead of them, putting even more distance between them and the Bothans, and then he continued to follow. “Just a precaution,” he assured her.

“Still,” she said, “I don’t sense they’re tracking us. But then I’m not sensing much of anything from them.” She shook her head. “Bothans,” she muttered.

“Me neither. I don’t like this. Bad feeling.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. She seemed agitated. “But the kids.”

Kinian nodded. They had to do something. No one else would care, except the parents. And they wouldn’t have the will to chase this down once they had the kids back. Or probably they wouldn’t, he thought. The ones who did would regret it. This was Jedi business if there ever was such a thing.

The starport came into view, a series of several dozen large, cylindrical towers hundreds of stories high, with docking bays of varying sizes at all levels. Even medium-sized freighters could find bays large enough here. Pol’nya was meeting the courier directly from Yavin IV. They couldn’t get information on which bay to be there ahead of time, so they’d had to follow her. Dozens of ships and speeders were entering and leaving each bay, so following her in would be too easy. Inconspicuously keeping an eye on her was another matter altogether.

“Your lightsaber,” his Master said. “Put it away.”

He used one hand to remove the hilt from his belt and secure it inside his jacket and glanced over to see her doing the same. “What about the blaster?”

She didn’t answer. The black speeder continued to peel away from lanes of traffic until it was cruising almost by itself toward the middle of one of the towers. Kinian followed from a distance. There were few enough other speeders and ships about that, had they been spotted before, it would be confirmed now they were following the Bothans. He still didn’t sense any apprehension from them in the Force, though, which he would – even from Bothans.

“Once he makes the handoff,” she said, “I’ll follow Pol’nya. We don’t want to lose her. You follow the courier. Question him – quickly – and then make him forget he ever saw you. Get into his ship if you can. We need to find out what they were after. But you don’t have long. She’ll leave the system soon, maybe right away. We’ll regroup to follow her off-world.”

Kinian furrowed his brow. He didn’t like the idea of splitting up but understood her logic. “If she leaves before I get back to you–“

“Then I’ll put a tracking device on her ship and wait for you. Just be quick about it.” She was looking out over the other speeders and ships passing in cross-lanes. Talking to him but focused on something else. She was tense. Kinian sensed her reaching out with the Force but couldn’t know to what.

The black speeder entered a large hangar with a mix of varied ships and speeders inside it. Several small freighters had people milling about them. There was even a medium-sized passenger freighter off to one side, though unattended. A group of single-rider speeders were leaving just as the black speeder entered, which was good for them. There was enough to-and-from traffic that they could enter after the black speeder without drawing undue attention. The black speeder cruised one side of the hangar bay, opposite the passenger freighter, and landed in a clear area.

As Kinian piloted in, he noticed who looked – from a distance – to be a young human man with black hair waiting nearby where the Bothans had landed. Kinian took their speeder across the hangar, closer to the passenger freighter, and set it down. Before he’d powered it down, his Master leapt out.

“On me,” she said.

Kinian set the speeder to cycle down and followed her, climbing over the side of the speeder, and hustling to catch up. The Bothans were several hundred meters away on the other side of the hangar, so they walked quickly between all the parked speeders and ships, side by side as if they were just a pair going about their business. It was all they could do not to spring into a light jog to make it to the other side of the hangar soonest, lest they miss any pertinent information exchanged in conversation, or get a good look at the courier.

By the time they reached the clearing where the black speeder had landed, the speeder itself had gone. They approached from behind the corner of a small, rectangular cargo ship, which was angled toward where the Bothans had landed. She poked her head around the corner first, then quickly ducked back. She looked back to Kinian, who stood just behind her. She gestured with her hand for him to go around to the other side of the cargo ship. That would allow them both to see while maintaining cover.

Kinian went around the other side so they both had a view from behind Pol’nya, whose back was to them, still flanked by her guards, while she talked to the young human man with black hair. The courier. Kinian thought he looked a little scruffy, with dirty, tattered clothes and an untrimmed beard. The courier stood a few meters away from the base of a ramp that led up to a small cargo ship. He looked like someone who’d just come out of a jungle. His ship looked like it had, too.

Kinian couldn’t hear what they were saying. He extended himself in the Force, using it to modify his senses, a natural version of a directional microphone. But he still couldn’t hear, even though he saw them talking. He saw one of Pol’nya’s hands disappear. She reached inside her robes and produced something small. A container of some kind. She handed it to the human man, who took and tucked it inside his jacket. Strange, Kinian thought. Then they kept talking.

“Master,” he whispered into his comlink. They were far enough away that their communication wouldn’t be noticeable if they weren’t shouting. “Did you see that? He didn’t give her anything.”

“Maybe she’s the courier,” she called back quietly over the comlink. “But he does look like someone who just came back from Yavin IV.”

Kinian sensed the conversation was coming to an end. Pol’nya nodded her head at the courier silently, then turned to one of her guards. Kinian thought it was the same one she’d talk to before. The Bothan guard raised a comlink and said something into it. At the same time, the courier turned away and started back up the ramp of the ship. Kinian immediately ducked back behind the cargo ship and sprinted around it to find his Master also pulled back, waiting for him.

“We have to move now,” she said. She held a small metallic token in her outstretched palm. “Take this. Put it on the courier’s – or whatever he is – put it on his ship. I’ll distract the Bothans.” She immediately turned away and darted around the corner of the cargo ship, out of his sight.

Kinian turned back and ran around the cargo ship one more time. Instead of rounding the corner he’d been hiding behind, he kept moving sideways, ducking in and out between several more ships, arcing himself around to get to the side of the “courier’s” ship so he wasn’t coming at the boarding ramp straight on. By the time Kinian was out in the clearing, approaching the ship from the side, the courier had disappeared into the ship, but the ramp was still down. The engines weren’t running, either. He looked out into the clearing and saw the Bothans had disappeared. No sign of his Master, either.

He crouched behind a cargo container a few meters from the side of the ship, leaning his back up against it. He thought of chucking the magnetic tracking beacon onto the hull, but quickly assessed that – in all the quiet that had suddenly overcome the immediate area – it might be too noisy and alert the courier. He held it in his hand, raising up and poking his twisted head out over the top of the cargo container to briefly make sure he wasn’t missing something. Seeing nothing, he ducked back down, gripping the beacon tightly while he thought of what to do. Had their source been wrong about who was the courier? It didn’t look like they’d been wrong about someone coming from Yavin.

He heard blasterfire in the distance. And a lightsaber. And the sound of blasts hitting durasteel. It wasn’t hard to imagine his Master making a scene out of the Bothan guards. “Blast,” he muttered to himself. Then silence. Not just a silence to the action, though. He realized the entire hangar had become silent. No ships or speeders were coming or going. He could only hear the distant hum of the traffic outside their bay.

“Why don’t you come out from back there?” called a man’s voice.

Kinian poked his head up over the cargo container again. Kedemel Sorath stood at the bottom of the ramp, staring directly at him. Holding a lightsaber hilt in his hand.

Kinian stood all the way up and stepped out from behind the cargo container, dropping eh tracking beacon to the ground. He briefly looked around for his Master, but didn’t spot her, and then focused on Sorath. Sorath was older now, his face lined. His grey hair was long, unkempt, hanging close to his shoulders. He had scraggly grey facial hair, not quite a beard, and sunken eyes. He wore a black tunic – customary – that also looked ragged, like the courier’s clothes. Like Sorath had also just been in a jungle.

Sorath pointed his lightsaber hilt at the tracking beacon on the ground. “I don’t think you’ll need that now.” He sidestepped a few steps away from the bottom of the ramp.

Over Sorath’s shoulder, Kinian saw his Master emerge from behind another ship in the distance, holding her lightsaber hilt in one hand and gripping the Kilm Pol’nya’s arm in her other hand, shuffling her along next to her. Pol’nya wasn’t restrained, but she wasn’t fighting back either, and seemed willing enough to come along. Her fancy robes looked singed. Maybe she was injured.

Kinian slowly started to sidestep in an arc around Sorath, to the head of the clearing, near the cargo freighter he’d been hiding behind a few minutes before. His Master met him there, standing a couple meters from him. She thrusted Pol’nya out into the opening between them and Sorath, who had turned to face them. Pol’nya stumbled and fell to one knee, then got back up and walked toward Sorath, who watched the scene unfold with a neutral expression. Without a word, Pol’nya walked around Sorath and disappeared up the ramp into the ship.

No sooner had she disappeared than Kinian saw two large, purplish, clawed feet at the top of the ramp. The giant winged reptilian Stenax that typically accompanied Sorath paced slowly down to the ground and stood a meter behind its master. Kinian had hardly forgotten it. The Stenax was over two meters tall. It was all muscle, covered in purplish scales. Its clawed hands were the size of his head. Its wingspan was wider than Kinian was tall. It was greyer than it used to be, its deep purple hue having faded over the years. It was aging, too.

Kinian reached into his jacket and pulled out his lightsaber hilt, holding it to his side. He looked over to his Master.

She was watching Sorath. And then the Stenax. And then she looked over at Kinian. “Kinian,” she said quietly – but it was so quiet around them Sorath could easily hear them, too – “it’s time for you to go.”

Kinian looked at Sorath and the Stenax, and then back at her. “No.”

“She’s right,” Sorath called out, taking a step forward and drawing their attention. “You can go. No harm will come to you.”

Kinian looked over at his Master, who was watching Sorath. She briefly glanced at him, her face expectant. She meant to die now, Kinian knew. He shook his head and looked back to Sorath. “No,” he said again. “I’ll stay.”

Sorath smiled slightly, but his eyes seemed sad. “I don’t want you interfering,” he said to Kinian. “If you stay, I won’t kill you. But my friend is going to grab you up.” Sorath pointed his lightsaber hilt toward the bay entrance, to the ships and speeders buzzing by. “He’s going to fly you out there and then he’s going to drop you. I’m going to guess we’re still a few hundred stories up. You may die, you may not. But probably.” He pointed the hilt at Kinian’s Master. “That depends on how well she trained you, I suppose. And how much you resist.”

“Kinian.” She spoke to him quietly again. Like she had full knowledge that Sorath could hear, but she wanted Kinian to know she was talking only to him. “Kinian, go.”

Kinian just shook his head.

She turned her attention back to Sorath. “You have father’s penchant for strange company.”

Sorath frowned. “You wouldn’t know.”

Kinian watched his Master. She was smiling. He was still processing that Sorath’s presence was the reason he was having trouble tapping into the Force, why they’d both been blinded. He realized belatedly that she’d said “father” in the personal sense. Not “your father,” but “father.”

“I would,” she said. She pointed at the Stenax with her own lightsaber hilt. “Killed the one that he used to keep around. Before I killed him.”

Sorath nodded, his expression neutral again. His Master was obviously attempting to get under Sorath’s skin, but Kinian couldn’t see that it was working. Any more than Sorath already had the entire galaxy under his skin. “I didn’t think this would ever be possible,” he said. “That I’d get this chance. The Great Mystery is just that, isn’t it? A Rift in the Force. Incredible.” Sorath’s eyes seemed possessed with a childlike glimmer, like he was lost in his own thoughts. That was usually the case, Kinian thought. “You know,” Sorath continued, “I think he actually wanted you to kill him.”

His Master nodded. She wasn’t smiling anymore. “And he wanted something very different for you.”

“Don’t,” Sorath said.

“That’s why he sent you away. Don’t you know that?” She shook her head.

“You don’t know anything. You weren’t there. You left.”

Kinian’s eyes darted back and forth between them. He was trying to stay focused on Sorath’s energy, on the Stenax’s position, to draw on the Force to prepare for the battle he knew was coming. But he couldn’t shake the undercurrent of shock that threatened to take him over, shock that his Master had been keeping from him – for years – her apparent relation to Sorath.

“Yes,” she said. “I left. To become a Jedi. Like him and his mother and everyone who came before them. He sent me away, too. He couldn’t escape the Dark Side. He knew he couldn’t escape it, or his masters, and he knew what was coming for him, and so he sent us away. And I gave up my family. Like I was supposed to.”

“What was coming for him? The Jedi came for him.” Sorath pointed his lightsaber hilt at her. “You came for him.”

“The Order held him responsible for what he’d done. You know he’d never have gone willingly. I did what I had to do.” She looked over at Kinian. She smiled at him. A sad smile. Then she looked back at Sorath. “It’s not too late for you.”

“I swear,” Sorath said, angrier now, “they teach all of you to say that. Trite.”

Kinian could see the lines on Sorath’s face briefly disappear when his jaw clenched. Now he was angry. Sorath ignited his lightsaber, the red blade illuminating his pale face. Kinian’s Master took several sidesteps until she was almost right next to Kinian.

She was still watching Sorath but leaned over to Kinian. “The Stenax’s scales can’t withstand a direct puncture,” she said quietly, almost a whisper.

Kinian looked at her. She wasn’t watching him but was focused on Sorath. “Master–“

“Kinian,” she interrupted. “Focus. I’ll see you again soon.” He could feel the Force now. Rising in himself, but especially in her. She was tapping the well in a way he’d never felt from her before.

Sorath couldn’t hold himself at bay anymore. Kinian felt the wave of Dark Side energy rushing toward them as Sorath closed the distance between him and his Master. He barely saw his Master’s blue lightsaber rise up to meet Sorath’s with a crash before a Force push swept him off his feet and threw him to the side, away from both of them. Had that been Sorath or his Master?

He landed on his shoulder, detaching himself from his Master and Sorath to focus on the task at hand. He propelled himself into a roll and came up just short of a cargo container, almost colliding with it. He turned left to see the Stenax lumbering toward him, still ten meters away. Kinian ignited his lightsaber out to his side, the cyan blade burning slightly into the corner of the cargo container.

Kinian stepped off to run toward the Stenax. Even as he ran, he looked it up and down. It was unarmed, although its claws, strength, and flying ability made it just as deadly as any armed opponent of normal size. He wondered if Sorath had been lying, whether it meant to kill him. No matter. He’d watched it end countless other lives during his time with Sorath. He meant to kill it.

When Kinian was almost within striking distance, the Stenax opened its wings, bent its legs, and sprung upward, lifting off in flight. Kinian raised his blade, jumped, and made a downward swing that barely grazed the Stenax’s foot as it flew higher than his reach. The blade grazed its foot scales, leaving an orange glow from the energy of the lightsaber blade and singeing them, but otherwise not getting through. The Stenax’s scales were resistant to the lightsaber.

Kinian landed in another roll, briefly disengaging his lightsaber so he didn’t cut himself. He rolled through and leapt up to his feet, quickly spinning around to meet the Stenax. But the Stenax had already spun in mid-air and was in Kinian’s face, its tentacled, gnarled face growling as it grabbed him by the hips with its massive hands, lifting him off the ground like a child. Kinian ignited the lightsaber again, his hand just under the Stenax’s armpit, swinging it wildly up and down, attempting to cut into its wing. The Stenax’s loud growling drowned out all other sound around him, so he must’ve been having some effect, but he kept feeling himself go higher and higher.

He disengaged the blade again, tried to pull it free from under the Stenax’s arm to get it between him and the Stenax so he could stab it in the chest. Before he could, the Stenax headbutted him in the face. He felt his nose break, pain radiating through the back of his skull. His vision disappeared in a blinding white flash. He felt his grip on the lightsaber slipping but kept ahold of it. He tapped into the Force for the singular purpose of holding onto his lightsaber.

As his vision started to return, he could see the top of the hangar moving quickly downward. He was flying. He could feel the Stenax still holding onto his hips. Its claws were digging into his flesh. He thought one of them had punctured his torso. He could feel the wind moving over him, between them, as they approached the hangar entrance. He vaguely heard clashing lightsabers in the distance. Suddenly they were outside the hangar, and he was looking up at the night sky, at ships and speeders passing by in the distance overhead. The Stenax had carried him outside the hangar. He’s going to fly you out there and then he’s going to drop you.

Kinian still had his lightsaber. The Stenax’s scales can’t withstand a direct puncture. Using his fingers, he spun the lightsaber hilt around, so he had an underhanded grip on it. His arm was still stuck between the Stenax’s arm and its body, under its armpit. Kinian aimed the hilt inward at its ribcage and used his pinky finger to ignite it. The Stenax snarled in his face as the lightsaber burned through its torso, so loudly that Kinian didn’t notice the lightsaber burning into his own arm as it crossed through the other side of the Stenax’s body.

He felt the Stenax’s grip start to slip and felt them start to descend toward another bay tower, opposite the one they’d exited. Kinian was almost upside down as the Stenax started to turn downward, so steep was their angle. Its wings were still flapping, but they were slowing. Kinian tried to move his lightsaber forward and backward, but it wouldn’t move against the scales. He instantly decided it was better to keep it in the Stenax, as a handle. The Stenax, in a last fit, tried to pull him off. One of his claws punctured Kinian’s torso that time. He grimaced but held onto the lightsaber. With his free hand he grabbed onto one of the few bits of cloth strapped around the Stenax, so the Stenax couldn’t launch him loose to hurtle into the ground.

They were still angling downward in a glide, but as soon as the Stenax stopped flapping its wings entirely, they’d just hurtle into the ground. They miraculously glid through a busy lane of speeder traffic unscathed. Kinian twisted his neck and tilted it back so he could see up and behind him while he glid backward with the Stenax as his wings. They were close to the other bay tower, which had dozens of bay openings. If he could time it just right….

He reached out with the Force, latching onto a small, winged freighter entering a bay about fifty meters below their current altitude. At his current angle, unaided, they would miss it by several meters. He focused on one of the wings. Even in the milliseconds he had to consider his actions, he assessed the risk of missing and hurtling right into the ion engines aft. No risk, no reward. When they were within a dozen meters of the ship, just as it crossed the bay’s threshold to land, Kinian used the Force to pull on the ship. It lurched but didn’t stop, which he was counting on. He used what remained of his energy to channel the Force into their landing to cushion his blow, essentially slowing himself down. Realizing the Stenax was weighing down on him, and would crush him if they landed together, he deactivated his lightsaber and used his free hand to push off the reptilian beast. His back slammed into the wing of the ship. He felt a sharp pain all throughout his torso and in his shoulder. He rolled once, twice, and then felt the Stenax land just next to where he’d been on the still-but-slowly-moving ship. The ship wobbled at the impact of the Stenax, it was so heavy. Kinian slid off the front of the wing onto the bay floor, just near the edge. A few meters back and he would’ve fallen to the planet’s surface below.

He lay on the bay floor, watching the ship move slowly overhead to come in for a landing. He saw the wing of the Stenax hanging off it. His vision faded to black.

* * *

Kinian woke in pain. Sirens wailed nearby. A medical droid and several uniformed Bothans stood over him. Security forces. He looked up to the bay ceiling. He was still on Bothawui. The droid was stabbing him with something. He felt a numbing sensation taking over his body. The pain was fading. He felt tired.

He reached out in the Force. His Master was gone. Echoes of her still burned through, but she was dead. He could still feel Sorath. Weakened, wounded, fading. But alive.

His vision faded to black again.

[Matt]

(Part 3 of 3)

Seven Years Later

Kayleon
Outer Rim

Kinian looked out over Kayleon through the viewport of the passenger freighter. The mountainous forest planet was greener than he remembered. Various species of evergreens stretched as far as he could see, broken up by occasional peaks and rivers. He saw a few towns in some of the valleys, too. The fact that he’d been able to book commercial travel here was indicative of the progress. It was still out of the way, in the backwater. Mostly a place for people who didn’t want to be found. But more people were finding it, he thought. So different than when he’d been here before. When it could be found on hardly any star charts.

The freighter touched down in the main port town and Kinian waited for the dozen or so other passengers to depart before him. He walked out into civilization, or something like it. It was no major city. Or even a minor city. It was a town, he thought, moving through it just as an observer. A few construction droids were moving timber around, which had likely come from the surrounding forests. Some landspeeders and speeder bikes whizzed by occasionally. Scruffy-looking patrons stumbled out of cantinas. Onto moist dirt paths, not paved walkways, but still. Sellers sold and traded wears on the streets. The morning mist from the mountains was burning off and the sun shone through.

How quickly a place could change, he thought. He could feel the Force here, the Light. It was unexpected. He knew he would also find the Dark Side here. But it didn’t have the pull it did when he was here before. Or maybe it just didn’t have the pull on him that it had before. Sorath’s home world had not been forgiving to him. Now there was industry. And life. Villainy, also, he suspected. He was passing by an alley where some creature of an unknown species vomited. Or maybe it was just refreshing. He couldn’t really tell from its shape.

He ultimately ended up at the speeder repair shop he’d located through the HoloNet. A storefront with semi-organized shelves, the floor littered with various parts and lubes and equipment for swoops and bikes. Coming in he’d seen the yard out back, which had half-deconstructed personal use vehicles of various shapes and sizes. He’d hoped there was a fully functional something or other he could take out. He poked around the shelves while he waited for someone to attend him.

Eventually a grizzled human man came in from the yard out back, wiping his oily hands with a cloth. He was older, Kinian thought, but his work had aged him beyond his years. He moved quickly for someone that old. “What can I do for you?” he asked Kinian, his voice gravelly.

“I need transport. I was hoping you had some here.”

“Hmmm.” The man cocked an eyebrow and looked over his shoulder, toward the yard out back. Kinian realized the man was mentally running through his inventory. “You need transport, like you want a ride somewhere, or you want to rent a bike?”

“I’d prefer to rent a bike. I don’t have many credits, but–“

“Don’t have any bikes,” the man said definitively.

“Oh,” Kinian said. “Well, the HoloNet said–“

“HoloNet’s wrong,” the man clapped back.

Kinian pointed over his shoulder, to the yard out back. “Well, you just asked if I wanted to rent a bike. Are you saying you don’t have any back there?”

“Isn’t that what I just said?” The man was almost yelling now.

Kinian realized the man was senile. Or he was one of those people that got old and used perceived senility as an excuse to be rude. He couldn’t tell the difference most of the time. “Well, yes. Of course, you did. Do you have transport?”

“Got one. He’s not here right now.”

“He?”

“Yeah. He drives the speeder. He’s givin’ another fella a ride right now. Be back soon. You just wait out front.” The man spun around and went back out to the yard, muttering something about rude off-worlders and the HoloNet.

Kinian went out of the shop and waited out front. A few passersby came down the dirt road, but not many. One offered him some spice for credits. He politely declined. Eventually he saw a rickety blue topless speeder roaring up the lane toward the shop. A teenage human boy with a mop of auburn hair was at the controls. He pulled in between the repair shop and the adjacent building. He popped open the side door and stepped out, stretching.

Kinian went around the corner of the shop to greet him. “Are you the transport?”

“Must be,” the boy said. “Let me use the ‘fresher and then I’ll be good.”

The boy disappeared around back, into the yard. He came back a few minutes later with a canteen in his hand, steam rising from its mouth. He sipped on it slowly. He extended it out to Kinian. “Caf,” he said. “Want some?”

Kinian held up his hand, palm out. “No, thank you. Trying to quit. Just the transport.”

“Suit yourself, mister. Get in.” The boy got back in the speeder and put his caf in a holder.

Kinian walked around to the other side of it, attempting to raise the passenger door from the outside. He pulled on the handle repeatedly to no avail as the kid started up the speeder

The kid was fidgeting with the controls, so it took him a few moments to notice Kinian struggling with the door. “Oh,” the kid said. “You gotta climb in. It’s broken.”

Kinian frowned. “Are any other parts of the speeder broken? I have a long way to go.”

“Well, no,” the boy said. “How far we talkin’? I ain’t got all day.”

Kinian reached into his jacket, fishing past his lightsaber for a small datapad. He fingered through several screens to bring up a particular set of coordinates he had stored inside. He handed the datapad over to the kid.

The kid looked at it, his eyes widening. “Mister, that’s crazy. We don’t–“ He stopped himself from saying something, handed the datapad back to Kinian. “Hold on.” The boy opened his door and got back out of the speeder. He left it running and walked back into the yard.

While the boy was gone, Kinian climbed over the broken passenger door and sat in the speeder. He tucked the datapad back into his jacket. He sensed a problem with his chosen destination.

A few minutes later, the boy came back. He stood outside the speeder. “I can take you within 10 klicks of where that is.” He pointed at Kinian’s jacket, to the now-hidden datapad. “But there are hardly any paths big enough for the speeder that go up that far. And it’s going to cost you extra.”

“How much?” Kinian asked.

“350.”

“350? That’s all I have.”

“Well, you probably ain’t comin’ back, mister, so it really doesn’t matter. Why do you want to go up there, anyway? You another one of those artifast hunters?”

“Artifact. No. I’m going to see the man. You know the one.” Kinian had read the reports. The man in the mountains. At the temple. It was all like some cheesy holodrama.

The boy shook his head. “Well, whatever, I’ll take that 350 then.”

Kinian reached into another jacket pocket and produced several credit chits. He handed them over to the boy, who pocketed them before he got back in the speeder. “Just get me as close as you can.”

“I’ll get you close.” The boy reversed the speeder out onto the road and then they were on their way, cruising through town, out toward the forest. “But I hope you like a good hike. And climbing.”

* * *

The woods were peaceful, despite the dull roar of the speeder underneath them. They passed several wood-farming operations, run mostly by droids. But there were some live workers, some of whom gave a polite wave, which the boy returned. He probably knew some of them. Most of them just stared as they passed. There were fewer and fewer the further they went.

Kinian was mindful of his surroundings. The Force teemed with life here. The forests were full of it. Not just the trees and the brush. Thousands of species of animal life were out there. Distantly, he felt a pocket of Dark Side energy, but it wasn’t the dominant force here. It wasn’t like he remembered it. But that had been nearly twenty years before.

He couldn’t feel Sorath, either. But that was probably on purpose. Sorath didn’t want to be found. But I found you, Kinian thought. Not that it was that hard. Sorath was predictable, at least to Kinian, now. This was his home world. Where he’d always holed up. Kinian had just been lucky enough to survive and come back. To finish what his Master had started. But the Force wasn’t showing Sorath to him. Even now, Sorath had the power to conceal himself.

Kinian was lost in his thoughts. At length he noticed the boy looking over at him, half watching the winding path in front of them, half watching Kinian. “You alright, mister?”

Kinian blinked. “Yeah. Why?”

“I dunno, you just seem mad is all.” The boy looked ahead. “I mean, you look it.”

Kinian smiled and looked away, out into the woods streaming by. “What did you tell the old man?”

“What?” the boy asked.

“When I told you where I wanted to go, you went back into the yard and talked to….” Kinian sighed. “I didn’t catch his name.”

“Dert.”

“His name is Dirt?”

“Well, that’s what I said, ain’t it?”

“You went back and said something to, uh, Dirt.”

“No, it’s Dert.”

“Okay. Dirt.”

The boy shook his head. “I told him I had another adventure-seeker, so I’d be a while.”

“Adventure? What kind of adventure?”

“You know, house of horrors, that sort of thing. Usually it’s treasure hunters, guys like that. Had some weird ones.”

Kinian sensed fear from the boy. Like he was hiding something. “And what are you called? I forgot to ask before.”

“That’s alright. I’m Tak.”

“Tak? Alright. I’m Kinian. The place I’m going. Have you been there before?”

“Buncha’ times. When we was kids. Don’t go much now.”

“Why not?” Kinian found all of this very curious. Who was this boy? How did anyone – him, or any of the so-called adventurers he was describing – get within a system of Sorath and live to tell about it?

“Not much to see.” He shifted in his seat uncomfortably, paying Kinian a quick side glance while he reached for his caf, sipping repeatedly at it.

“Not much what?” Kinian pressed.

“Look, mister, I just give the rides, okay?” He slammed the caf cup back into its holder.

Kinian held his hands up in mock surrender. “Fair enough. Sorry.” He went back to watching the woods pass by for a moment. Except I think you can hear what I’m thinking. Kinian attempted to communicate telepathically with the boy.

Tak brought the speeder to a jarring halt, forcing Kinian forward in his seat so he had to brace on the dash. He realized belatedly there was no safety harness in here. “Don’t do that again, mister.”

Kinian nodded. “You can feel the Force.”

The boy reached for his caf again. He sipped at it, his hand shaking. He put the canteen back and looked at Kinian, staring lasers through him. “I feel like you’re violatin’ my private thoughts,” Tak shot back. “And if you do it again, you can walk the rest of the way.” He slowly started the speeder on its away again.

Kinian waited a few minutes for the boy to cool off. By his estimation, they still had over an hour to go. “Can we talk about it?”

“Talk about what, mister?”

“The Force.”

Tak was quiet for a few long moments. Kinian sensed Tak knew what he was talking about. “What’s there to talk about?”

“That’s not the first time you’ve connected with someone in the Force.”

“No,” Tak said.

“Who is Dirt to you?”

“Dert. I work for him.”

“He’s your…what? Father? Grandfather?”

“Dert? Nah. Dert’s just a crazy old nerf. He found me runnin’ and, you know.”

Kinian looked at him. “Running from what?”

Tak shook his head, smiling. “No, mister. Not running. You know, runnin’. Spice. I was in some trouble. He gave me a real job.”

“You asked him for that?”

Tak laughed. “I asked him for money. He offered me work.”

“And you stayed.”

“Better’n runnin’ spice.” He looked at Kinian. “Except when crazy folk come and want to go see the wizard.”

“The wizard,” Kinian repeated. “You’re talking about the man. The man in the temple.”

Tak didn’t respond. He just looked at the path ahead.

“Who is your father?”

Tak sipped his caf. “Mister, you sure are nosy. I dunno. Someone not from here. I was a stowaway. Got here when I was real little.”

Kinian nodded. “Okay. Sorry.”

Tak shook his head. “You’re one’a the weird ones.”

“What do you mean?”

“All kinda people come up here asking all kinda strange questions. About the man in the temple and talking about the Force and holocrons and all that. Crazier stuff than I heard before I started doing this job. And I watched people do all sorts’a spice.”

“Have you seen the man in the temple?”

Tak looked at him. “Yeah, I seen him.”

“What did he look like?”

“Old. Like a wizard.”

“When?”

“Been a while,” Tak said. “Maybe a year or two.”

“A year or two?” Kinian was incredulous. “Where did you see him?”

“Well, in the temple.”

“I think we’re talking about different people.”

Tak shrugged. “I dunno, mister. Only one man. One temple. If it’s the one I’m thinking of. Been here a while now. Haven’t heard of another one.”

Kinian shook his head. He thought briefly of using the Force to pry into the poor boy’s mind, but Tak would’ve noticed. It might hurt him, too. Not permanent scarring or anything, Kinian thought. But the boy was sensitive enough to the Force to feel when someone was poking around inside. Kinian didn’t want to invade his mind that way. It wasn’t right. “Well, let’s just get there. Did you talk to him? The man?”

“Well, no. I just saw him.” Tak was silent a few minutes, obviously wary that he’d touched a nerve with Kinian. “How are you planning to get back, anyway, mister?”

“I’ll figure it out.”

* * *

Tak ultimately dropped him at a clearing in the forest where the path ended. Toward the end of the path, as they approached the clearing, the terrain had become rockier, small pieces of rock sticking up out of the ground as they approached the base of a small mountain. The vegetation was thick where the path ended, but there was a clear walking trail carved through it, at least as far as he’d been able to see. He’d been on it for half a day now and it still seemed well-trodden.

He wondered how much elevation he’d gotten. The air was thinner here. He didn’t quite have trouble breathing, but it was noticeable. The mountain wasn’t as rocky as he remembered. Trees grew around the duracrete block temple he could now see near the top of it. The living Force registered stronger than it had in town. Life was thriving here in ways it never had when he was here as a child. He wasn’t blocked from tapping into the Light Side of the Force. The way he had been before. The way he had been on Bothawui.

The small pocket of Dark Side energy remained. He felt physically closer to it, by virtue of being near the temple, but it didn’t feel any stronger to him than when he’d been in the town. It didn’t surround him the way he remembered. Strange, he thought. He could feel it underneath him. He knew there were all manner of underground tunnels and secret passages through the mountains. The temple structure at the top was but a small portion of the facility. But Sorath’s presence had waned. The Dark Side had lost its grip here. Old, Tak had described him.

It was high afternoon by the time he’d made it up the steps of the temple. The sun shone hot up here, with few trees around the structure to block the light. He was sweating and not quite short of breath. But close. Old, Tak had said. Kinian felt that a little bit. The entrance was just a rectangular opening in the stone wall leading into a single chamber. It was dark inside, too dark to see. He stepped over the threshold, greeted immediately by the smell of decaying flesh. He heard rodents scurrying in the distance as he incidentally kicked some loose bits of stone on the floor.

If he remembered correctly, the main chamber was just a throne room. There were several passageways on either side and in the back leading to other parts of the temple, but the point was to see the master in his keep right when you walked in. He reached inside his jacket and got out his lightsaber, holding the hilt over his head and igniting the cyan blade to light his way. Blue light flowed out into the chamber. The ceilings were too high up to see. He saw old sconces on the walls on either side of him, and a few large, stone steps down to the stone floor.

He moved down the steps. He started along the floor toward the center of the chamber. He noticed some of the stones had fallen from the walls and rolled out onto the floor. Or had they come from the ceiling? He suddenly wondered if the structure was stable. He kept hearing rubble shift as small creatures stirred in the distance. He reached out in the Force to feel them. Rats.

He felt the low ebb of Dark Side energy that he’d felt since he got here. But he couldn’t feel Sorath. He stopped and closed his eyes, so the physical darkness wouldn’t make a difference. He reached out with the Force, trying to pinpoint the dark energy he felt. But he couldn’t. He was starting to think it wasn’t a person. It felt like the echoes he’d felt when his Master had taken him to visit a Jedi Temple once. The collective energy of all that had happened here.

He opened his eyes to realize he’d kept walking forward. In the light he now saw more steps in front of him, this time going up. To the dais. To the throne. He looked up and saw a pair of dusty black boots a few steps up, at the base of the throne. And legs. He took a few steps up. A body. In a dusty black tunic. He took the last few steps, still holding his lightsaber overhead. And saw a half-rotted human face, with whisps of white hair sticking out the top. He took a deep breath, despite the smell of decay. Old decay. Kinian leaned in to inspect the face. Sorath had been dead a long time.

He lowered the lightsaber to his side but kept it on, so he could still see the corpse in the light. He turned around, looking back into the empty chamber, wondering if something was going to jump out at him. He still heard rats, or forest rodents, squeaking and scurrying through the darkness. He started into the darkness for a while. So long that, by the time he caught himself, the orange light of sunset was pushing in through the temple entrance. He turned back to the corpse to look at it one more time. No Stenax jumped out to get him. No Sith monsters. No Sorath. At least no living Sorath. Just this.

He deactivated the lightsaber and sat down on the steps.

* * *

After some meditation, he’d spent several hours exploring passageways and various rooms of ransacked scrolls, runes, holocrons, and other various artifacts – all less than he’d remembered Sorath having before. Which meant all the visitors that had come here had made off with much of it. He wondered if half of them knew what it all was, or what it all meant. Probably some of them did, or else they wouldn’t have come. He hoped it was all just traders and dealers looking to make credits on rare, ancient finds. But he knew some Sith holocron with Dark Side teachings, or some ancient Dark Side spell, would find its way into the wrong hands. And the cycle would continue, forever.

At length he’d ended up in one of the antechambers near the main hall. It was full of giant tanks filled with fluorescent yellow-green liquid – or was it his lightsaber that made it seem fluorescent? – and half-formed, dead creatures of varying sizes. Like a cloning or growth chamber. He moved along the room, inspecting the tanks. Most of the creatures inside them had dark red skin. Claws. Some had tentacles hanging from their faces. Most of them were malformed. Teeth too long, protruding from their mouths in outsized proportion to their faces. Stunted limbs.

“Do you know what they are?” His Master’s voice from behind him was unmistakable.

He turned to see her. Not her. But a bluish visage of her. He could see her image clearly enough. He felt her strongly in the Force. It was her, at least in spirit. “I read about this. Didn’t believe it.”

“The Massassi?” she asked.

“The what? Oh.” She was talking about the creatures. “No. This.” He waved his lightsaber up and down in her direction, the light shifting on the walls while he waved it. “You. Jedi spirits,” he said sarcastically. “I’ve been trying to reach out to you. To hear you.” He was more serious now.

“Time and place,” she said. “My power to do this sort of thing is waning. I had to choose my moment. You won’t be seeing me again.”

He nodded. “What’s a Massassi?”

“Sith slaves. Millennia ago. Some say they were part of the Sith species or interbred with them. After the Great Hyperspace War, when the Sith leader exiled himself to Yavin IV, he took a horde of Massassi slaves with him.”

“To Yavin IV. Was this in the readout?”

“No.” She smiled. “But my father, in his own machinations, experimented with recreating them. Something Sorath continued.”

Kinian turned to look back at the red creatures in the tanks, then back at her. He disengaged the lightsaber to see if she would light up the room. She didn’t. He reignited it. “You mean your brother,” he said, his voice tinged with resentment. He walked around her and she followed, “walking” with him back into the main chamber.

“Yes. He was my brother, by blood. But he was not my family.”

They exited the antechamber onto the side of the main hall. In the light of the lightsaber, Kinian could see the steps to the dais. He went to their base and sat on them. “You didn’t tell me.”

“No.” She came closer, but stayed standing, facing him. “I didn’t tell you.”

“Why not?”

“What difference would it have made for you to have that information?”

He thought about it a moment and couldn’t think of a reason. “I’m not sure,” he said. “it just feels like you weren’t honest with me.”

“Do you think it would have made you more or less receptive to my teaching?”

He nodded. “I get it. That doesn’t mean it was right.”

She shrugged. “Maybe not. But you will come to understand that honesty doesn’t mean telling everything you know to someone.”

“Interesting concept of honesty, that.”

“It’s the Master’s version. You’ll use it one day.”

Kinian looked over his shoulder, up at the base of the throne, and then back to her. “How did he die?”

“He was old,” she said.

“That seems….”

“Too easy?” she asked rhetorically. “We both know it's harder for you to see him dead than alive. Why did you come here?”

“To find him,” Kinian lied.

“Now who’s being dishonest. For what purpose?”

“You know why.”

“Yes,” she said. “Do you feel better?”

Kinian deactivated the lightsaber. He was silent a few moments. “No,” he said in the dark.

“Revenge is not what we do,” she said.

“Did you come to give me more lessons?”

“That’s exactly why I came,” she said. “And exactly why I waited until now. So you would know that I have watched you and felt you. Your pain. Killing him wouldn’t have brought me back. And it wouldn’t have brought you peace. Justice, maybe. Justice for you. And you alone. But not peace.”

He felt ashamed. And angry. Angry at her. At Sorath. Mostly at himself. Tears welled in his eyes, but he couldn’t cry. Not even in the dark.

“This anger will pass in time,” she said, “if you put yourself in service to the Force. He’s gone now, and he can’t hurt anyone else. But he wasn’t yours to kill. Or mine. That was not the will of the Force. That was all you.”

Kinian reactivated the lightsaber so he could see again. “What happened on Bothawui?”

“The Sith Lord. The one who went to Yavin IV. Not the first one; the second one. The one fleeing the Jedi Order, who trapped his spirit in the temple. He had an apprentice who also turned to the dark side and became a Sith. Shortly before the Master trapped his spirit in the temple, the Jedi Order tracked down the apprentice and used their power to cut him off from the Force. Stripped him of his connection.” She moved to the steps and sat down next to him. “I cut my brother off from the Force.”

Kinian watched her. His eyes widened briefly in surprise. “Cut him off from the Force….” He shook his head. “I didn’t know that was possible. And it killed you.”

“No,” she said. “It killed my body. But here I am. And, depending on your point of view – about the Rift – I was already dead anyway.”

“Stripped him of the Force,” Kinian repeated. “How did he survive?”

“Many beings survive without a conscious connection to the Force. Most of them, even. Apparently, the Force was keeping him alive, though.” She gestured up the steps. “He didn’t last long.” She paused. “The apprentice – the one who the Jedi stripped of the Force. Legends say he went into exile but was found by a young Jedi student. He trained her, and when hunters came for her, he defended her. They killed him. But his body faded into the Force. As a Jedi.”

“You really do go in for those Legends, don’t you.”

She smiled. “Look at me. Don’t you believe it’s possible? Spirits and all?”

Kinian stood up and walked up the steps of the dais, inspecting Sorath’s body in the light again. “No such luck for him, I suppose.”

“No luck,” she said. “Only the Force. But he never found it. Not really.”

Kinian remembered all too well their brief dialogue in the hangar on Bothawui. “Your father. He was a Jedi?”

“Once,” she said. “Before he was corrupted by the Dark Side. Other fallen Jedi. An unholy alliance of varying sects of the Dark Side arts. Eventually fancied themselves a new Sith Empire. It’s all the same, really. They turned him. His mother had been a Jedi, too. I suspect that weighed on him when he sent my younger brother away.”

“Did you have other siblings?”

“Many. Probably some I didn’t even know about. I was taken as a child. Or sent away. I don’t really know. Either way, I got the sense the last time I saw my father that it was a desirable outcome. That that’s what he’d wanted. I wasn’t lying about that, you know.”

“That he wanted you to become a Jedi?”

“And Kedemel.”

“What makes you think that?” Kinian asked. He’d stepped away from the corpse and was standing at the edge of the dais, looking down at her on the steps.

“Just a feeling,” she said. “Something I felt from my father in the Force. At the end.”

“When you killed him,” Kinian said.

“Yes,” she said.

Kinian was silent for a while. “It’s kind of sad, really.”

“What is?”

“Sorath. That all his efforts came to this. Dying in a chair, old, probably angry, and bitter.”

“Sad?” she asked confusedly.

“Of course it’s better that he can’t hurt anyone now. That’s not what I mean.” Kinian shook his head. “He must have wanted to be more. Sitting in here, recreating your father’s experiments. Collecting Sith artifacts. Trying to live up to someone else. Just seems like a tortured existence.”

She nodded. “Our father did try to send him away.”

“Before you killed him,” Kinian said.

“My father? Yes, after he killed dozens of Jedi and I was sent – as a member of the Jedi Order – to stop him,” she retorted. “You could say Kedemel didn’t take that well.”

“I think that’s a gross understatement. Is that what taunting the Jedi all these years has been about for him? Simple revenge for the death of his father?”

She shrugged. “Who can say.”

“It just seems so….”

“Petty?” she suggested. “That’s the Dark Side. You weren’t wrong. It is sad. He was corrupted by his desire for revenge, whatever that meant for him. By his anger. At being sent away. At my father’s death. At all of it. It had to end this way for him. And people like him. Even before I stripped him of the Force, he was a prisoner. Of his own making. Trying to live up to some ideal of what he thought my father wanted, instead of considering what the Force called him to do. Which, in this case, was also what my father wanted. He was blind to it.”

Kinian sighed. He walked down off the dais into the middle of the chamber. He’d spent so much time focused on his own quest for revenge. Had the Force brought him here just to see the futility of it all? It couldn’t be that simple, he thought. But then he’d come here looking to kill the man who’d killed his Master. It really wasn’t different at all. Only his thirst for revenge had lasted just a few years, not a few hundred. Thank the Force, he thought. “Master,” he said at length. “If I had killed him….”

“You didn’t,” she said.

Kinian began to suspect that what he’d been afraid of all this time – for as long as he could remember. What he could become, if he gave in to his anger, as he almost had. Of what he would become after this experience. He’d found his Master because the Force willed it. He’d stayed with her to learn how to become a Jedi. He was afraid of that most of all. That he couldn’t live up to the ideal. Not so different from Sorath. He was afraid of himself. “Master,” he called. “Now what?”

“Who you talkin’ to, mister?” Tak’s voice burst through the hall.

Kinian spun to see morning light coming in through the temple entrance. Tak was just a silhouette, but his voice was unmistakable. Kinian turned back toward the dais to look for his Master. She was gone. He turned back toward the boy, who was now shining a light into the chamber and walking down the steps toward him. “Uh, no one. Myself.”

“That’s weird, mister. Did you find that lightsaber in here? I thought they’d got all those out.”

Kinian looked at the lightsaber in his hand and realized he didn’t need it anymore with Tak’s light. He deactivated it and clipped it to his belt. “No. This one’s mine.”

“Yours? Heh. Ain’t seen no one bring one in. Just take ‘em out.”

“Who took them out?” Kinian asked.

The boy was within a few meters of him now, smiling. “Can’t say. Some trader or ‘nother. Same ones that took a bunch of other stuff, reckon.”

“Why’d you come back?”

“Well, mister, you seemed like you might need some help. Dert don’t know I’m here, but I’ll fuel up the speeder myself. Are you alright? You been up here all night?”

“Yeah. I’m alright.” Kinian looked back into the darkness. “Can you help me with something?”

“Yeah, mister, sure.”

“The wizard. We’re going to burn him.”

“Well, now, that’s real weird, mister.”

Kinian held his hands up and shook his head. “No, no. It’s not.”

“He’s dead.”

“Yes, I know he’s dead. That’s why we’re going to burn him. Do you know what a pyre is?”

“A wut?”

“A pyre. Like a funeral pyre. With sticks.” Kinian made an inarticulate gesture with his hands. “Like you build a bed of sticks–“ He stopped himself. “Listen. Just come with me. We’re going to go outside and get some wood. And then we’re going to make a fire. Get it?”

“Well, alright” Tak said, “but I gotta be back in a couple hours.”

Kinian moved around him toward the exit. “Then we’d better hurry.”

“Why do you want to set him on fire? That’s messed up.”

“It’s just something we do,” Kinian said.

“Who’s ‘we?’”

* * *

The first half of the ride back was silent. Kinian smelled the smoke on their clothes, combined with the wet forest air. He was breathing deeper than before. A sense of exhausted relief had washed over him. At one point he caught himself dozing off in the passenger seat. He woke to find Tak staring silently ahead.

When Tak noticed he was awake, the boy sipped some caf nervously. “Listen, mister, I wanted to ask you something.”

Kinian had slouched during his nap and sat up to brace for the incoming assault from this ball of energy. “Alright. What?”

“Well, that thing you did.” Tak took a hand off the steering controls and tapped the side of his head dramatically. “In my mind. How’d you do that?”

“I have training,” Kinian said. “As a Jedi.”

“A wut?”

“It’s…. Nevermind. How old are you?”

“Fourteen.” Tak focused on the path ahead of them again. “He did that to me once. The guy. Talked in my head."

“Sorath?”

“Who?”

Kinian shook his head. “The wizard. He did that to you? When?”

“I dunno,” the boy said. “Year or two. Why?”

Kinian was silent a long time. He looked out into the passing trees. He could still feel the ebb of Dark Side energy coming from the temple. It was almost the same as before. He could feel it in a more subtle way now, though. It was fading. Slowly. But fading. He turned back to Tak. “Do you like working for Dirt?”

“Dert,” Tak corrected.

“Do you?” Kinian pressed.

“I dunno. Guess so. Better’n runnin’ spice.

“What if I offered you a different job? A better job.”

"What job?" Tak was skeptical. 

Kinian guessed that was his default state. “Being a Jedi.”

“Don’t know what that is. How much does it pay? Because I almost saved up enough to get off this rock.”

“Well, it doesn’t pay. But you’ll get to go off world,” Kinian said.

“Doesn’t pay? Mister, what kind’a job don’t pay.”

“It’s…. I don’t know. It’s what I do.”

“Mister, far as I can tell, all you do is run ‘round old temples burnin’ folks. That ain’t really for me.”

“No, no. It’s more than that. You help people.” Kinian sighed. He wasn’t selling it. “You can learn how to use a lightsaber.”

Tak looked at him sideways, sipping his caf. Still unconvinced. But less so, Kinian thought. Take looked back at the path.

Kinian smiled sympathetically. “It’ll help with the voices in your head.”

Tak looked at him again, curious, but didn’t say anything.

* * *

The old man was as incorrigible as the boy. Kinian could see why they worked so well together. “It’s Dert,” the old man said. “Not dirt. Dirt’s what’s in the ground. That ain’t my name.”

Kinian nodded. “I’m sorry, sir.” He was standing at the counter inside the shop. Tak had agreed to come with him, using some of the credits he’d saved to help get them off-world. But they needed a few more, which Kinian had paid to Dert to get transport up to the temple. “I meant no offense. I’m not trying to take him. He wants to come with me. I’m willing to send you credits for the trouble. I just need to get off world first.”

The old man shook his head. “Sounds like a raw deal to me, mister.” He waved his hand dismissively at Tak, who was standing off in the corner. “He’s ungrateful anyway! I know he’s been takin’ my money.”

Tak held his hands out to his sides. “What! I didn’t take no money. Old nerf.” The boy shook his head.

“Sir,” Kinian continued. “We just need a few extra credits to buy transport off world. I’m willing to work for it.”

“Can you fix speeders?” the old man asked.

“Well, no,” Kinian said.

“Then I ain’t got no work,” the old man said. He shook his head, crossed his arms over his chest. He pointed at Kinian’s belt. “What about that?”

Kinian realized he’d forgotten to take the lightsaber off his belt. He looked down at it, then up at the man, incredulous. “That’s not for sale. I made that. It’s one of a kind.”

The old man shrugged. “Seen ‘em before. You pulled it outta that temple," he said accusatorially. "Don’t think they’re one of a kind, but whatever you say.” He pointed at Kinian’s hip. “What about that.” He was pointing at his blaster pistol.

Kinian looked back at Tak, who was just standing there, a packed hide ruck sack at his feet, with his arms crossed over his chest, waiting impatiently for the adults in his life to decide his fate. Kinian briefly wondered if they weren’t both swindling him. The boy just shrugged at him. “Fine,” Kinian said. He turned back to the man, unclasping his holster belt from under his regular belt. He pulled the straps loose and put the holster and blaster on the countertop. He reached into his jacket and produced two additional powerpacks for it. “How much will that get me?”

The old man looked down at it. “Well, enough to get you off world, at least.” He took it and set it on a table behind the counter, like Kinian might change his mind and decide to take it back. Dert reached down into a cubby under the countertop and pulled out several credit chits, tossing them on the countertop. “There ya’ go. Good riddance.” He spun around and went back out to the yard.

“Thank you, very much,” Kinian said as sincerely as he could muster. He used one hand to sweep the chits into his other, and then put them in his jacket pocket. He turned around to Tak. “Let’s go.”

Kinian walked out of the shop, into the fading morning mists, tucking the lightsaber into his jacket to hide it away for their journey. Tak picked up his ruck and slung it over one shoulder, running to catch up with Kinian. They walked down the road toward the area where Kinian had gotten off his arrival transport, expecting to catch the outgoing charter taking off shortly.

“I don’t think it was a good idea to get rid of that blaster,” Tak said.

Kinian stared back at him blankly. “What?” Kinian asked rhetorically. He continued onward.

It only took a few minutes to get to the transport area. The Twi’lek pilot waited outside, collecting payment from boarders. Kinian approached and said, “Two,” nodding back toward Tak. He reached into his pocket and paid the credits the old man had given him. He turned back to Tak and got some credits from him, giving them all to the Twi’lek. The Twi’lek nodded and they proceeded past him, up the ramp of the passenger freighter.

They found two seats next to one another near the back of the ship. Kinian sat down while Tak figured out what to do with his ruck. “I’m just sayin’,” Tak continued. “All the people I seen come through here. Galaxy seems like a dangerous place. We oughta have a blaster.” Tak ultimately just sat down with his bag in his lap, then stuffed it between his legs and the seat in front of him.

“We have a lightsaber,” Kinian said. A little too loudly, apparently. Another human man across the aisle from them leaned forward and looked over at them. Kinian waved at him. “Just kidding,” he said to the man.

The man said something back in a language Kinian couldn’t understand. He couldn’t even tell if his mind trick worked. He shrugged at Tak. He wasn’t keen for anyone onboard to know he had a lightsaber.

Tak looked over at the man, and then back to Kinian. “He said you were just kiddin’. You don’t speak Rodese?” Tak looked skeptical. “Anyway, I dunno. You think we’ll be safe with just a lightsaber?”

The man leaned forward again. Kinian ignored him this time. “Yes,” he told Tak. “We’re safe. Try to take a nap or something.” He stared out the viewport as the ramp closed and the ship began to lift off. And we always have the Force, he didn’t say.