“I'm not lost.”
Trya'ak Sypkine's voice echoed through the musty cavern, reverberating off walls only visible due to the plasma torch in his hand. The damn thing didn't produce nearly enough light - he could see maybe a five meter radius, which always threw him for a loop when he reached a passage any larger than that. His sense of direction wasn't lacking, but when one finds oneself surrounded by utter darkness with an abundance of space in which to proceed, it becomes exponentially difficult to find the correct path.
Artien would likely say that Trya'ak needed to rely more on the guidance of the Force. That an attuned jedi was never truly lost. He'd then give a stern lecture on the value of constant reliance on the will of the light side and subsequently reprimand Trya'ak for not being a better jedi. Those were the days.
Trya'ak didn't know why his old master popped into his mind just then. Probably because he'd spent an hour in this godforsaken cavern trying to find his objective and the madness was beginning to set in. Then there was the little fact that he intended to use Artien's credentials to access the jedi archives once he'd snuck his way inside the temple.
It was a foolish idea, he knew, which hinged entirely too much on happenstance. As an exile, Trya'ak's own access codes had been erased from the system, but he could still use those of a proper Jedi - and as a master, Artien had access to much more than most. The Council had no reason to alter his credentials, nor any reason to suspect that Trya'ak somehow knew his codes; Artien was a stickler about that sort of thing. There was, however, the possibility that he had had them changed for some other reason, or perhaps as a precaution in case of an event like this.
Of course, there was also the possibility that someone may sense his presence. Unlikely, unless they were actively searching for him, but nevertheless a real risk. Even so, it would be worth it - at least, he hoped so. It had taken him four years just to amass the knowledge he had acquired, and he felt he could go no further without the jedi archives. Surely they had *something* that he couldn't find elsewhere.
So he continued through the impossibly confusing cavern, reaching what (as far as he could tell) was a large, partially submerged enclosure. An irrefusable sigh escaped his lips. He'd been here before. Several times.
“All right, I'm lost.”
Trya’ak could have spent several hours in the caverns, stubbornly refusing to admit defeat despite the fact that he almost certainly had forgotten his way through the subterranean system. He wasn’t foolish enough to delude himself, nor prideful enough to think that this had been anything but a mistake. It had been years since he’d been here and even then, it had only been a handful of times.
He was nearly ready to give up and return where he’d come from when a voice shot out of the dark.
“I don’t believe you’re meant to be here.”
He was off his game; he felt it the moment he heard the feminine voice utter her first syllable. Instinct nearly made him reach for his vibrosword, but his senses told him that he wasn’t in any danger, at least. Why he hadn’t been able to detect another’s presence well before they’d snuck up on him, he could only guess. Recklessness, probably, and a preoccupation with the fact that he had absolutely no idea where he was going. Either way, something equally as interesting and far more pressing was at hand, given Trya’ak’s disdain for interactions in which he didn’t hold the upper hand.
“Son of a bantha!” he huffed, turning slightly to face his stalker. “I almost shot you! What are you…”
His speech was utterly derailed the second he gathered his thoughts and managed to actually observe the person before him. The Force was present in her, that much was clear, as was the hand at her side presumably grasping the hilt of a weapon. A jedi, had to be. The Sith were known for being devious and sneaky, but even they couldn’t have made it this close to the temple’s interior without someone sensing their presence.
Perhaps more surprising, however, was the fact that she was clearly chiss. While little was really known about them, Trya’ak had learned enough to know that Force sensitives were rare among their people, as was one becoming a jedi or associating with the Republic in any way. Surely he would have heard about a chiss apprentice if she’d joined before his exile? Of course, he had only been a padawan at the time, and far from the most knowledgeable of jedi, but he imagined there at least would have been whispers.
A similar thought suddenly struck him: would she have heard about him? Exile wasn’t a common occurrence; the last before Trya’ak had been over two centuries ago. Some left of their own accord or vanished and were never heard from again, presumed killed and discarded by sith assassins, but the number of instances like those were likely in the single digits. The exile of a padawan would have been news that travelled the breadth of the Order, if only to serve as an example of how not to be a jedi.
Still, he hadn’t had the opportunity to speak to a single jedi in the past four years, and Trya’ak knew as well as anyone else that his curiosity took precedence. This was perhaps his only chance to learn what had been happening in the Order lately, and how they felt about his exile.
“You’re a jedi,” he absently remarked, a trace of an ecstatic chuckle in his voice. “What are you doing down here? How did you even know about these caverns? I thought I was the only one to have explored them.”
The barrage of questions didn’t seem to deter the woman, though Trya’ak quickly realized that he wasn’t allowing her even a moment to react. Likely she didn’t need one, either. It didn’t matter why he was spelunking through caverns leading into a secret entrance to Armala’s Temple; it only mattered that he wasn’t supposed to be doing it, and the jedi did love to enforce justice on people breaking the rules.
However, she didn’t assume the role of an authority as the nautolan had assumed she would; rather, the chiss inclined her head slightly to regard him. “My friend also thought that he was one of the few explorers of these caverns,” she said plainly. Trya’ak was certainly no linguist, and he couldn’t really claim to have ever held a conversation with a chiss before, but her accent wasn’t what he’d been expecting. Her voice was rather high-pitched, but the tone and cadence produced something low and somber, almost giving it a strange melodic harmony. “Evidently you were both wrong.”
As if on cue, a second voice shot out from behind the chiss, this time deep and masculine. “Trya’ak?”
A figure stepped out of the shadows and it took Trya’ak a moment before recognition dawned on him. “Elias?” he asked, a slight grin splitting his face. The two had run into each other occasionally as padawans, and though they’d never been fast friends, their relationship had always been one of mutual respect.
The man approached Trya’ak and the chiss, and it was obvious that the two jedi were well-acquainted. The chiss even seemed to take a stance of deference as Elias walked slightly past her to meet his old colleague.
“The prodigal jedi,” Elias remarked, smirking ever so slightly. “Should’ve known you wouldn’t stray far from home. I imagine you learned about these tunnels during your time under Artien’s tutelage, hm?” There was a sort of knowing tone in his voice. Artien’s strictures and personality were well-known amongst the Order.
If Trya’ak had been surprised at his encounter with the chiss, the sight of Elias entering the cavern truly threw him for a loop. It wasn’t so much the fact that others knew about the cave network, or even that they’d stumbled upon him during what was supposed to be a covert infiltration of their temple, but rather the almost passive indifference they seemed to display. Elias even spoke with a sort of hospitality, or at the very least a casualness that implied he was in no way alarmed at the sight of an exile wandering about the secret entrance to the Jedi’s sacred domicile. Interesting.
But of course, that was likely a product of jedi hubris. Trya’ak hadn’t known Elias well enough to definitively think of him as arrogant like some of the Masters, but he knew the commonality present in just about every member of the Order; an almost arrogant folly, believing that they were safe in the comfort of their temple. The very fact that Trya’ak, a non-jedi, had come so close was a testament to the illegitimacy of such an idea. Were the sith to learn of these caverns… well, he didn’t even want to think about that.
Instead, his thoughts returned to the two jedi confronting him, and the notion that he may have to delay his little incursion after all, and not by his own choice or lack of direction.
“It’s been quite some time,” Trya’ak said, trying to match his level of levity and friendliness. “Good to see you too, by the way. And you’re not wrong. Shortly before… well, before I left the Order, I needed a way to leave the temple unseen. As you can imagine, these tunnels came in handy.”
It was then that he realized the chiss hadn’t spoken or been spoken to in some time, and Trya’ak was nothing if not a prudent conversationalist. The very last thing anyone would ever say about him was that he was rude.
“My apologies,” he continued, now addressing Kassal. “I’m Trya’ak Sypkine; I used to train here years ago. If my presence here has inconvenienced you in any way, I can be on my way. I suppose I was just feeling… sentimental.”
They were both analyzing him, he thought. Trying to determine whether or not he had fallen to the dark side after his exile, and what his intentions were in sneaking into the Temple. It was all fair enough. Were he in their shoes, Trya’ak imagined he’d be doing the exact same.
“It’s no inconvenience, Trya’ak Sypkine,” the chiss stated. “My name is Kassal Ravana, padawan of the Jedi Order. As such, it’s merely my duty to inquire regarding the intentions of a former jedi attempting to secretly enter the temple, regardless of how odd that situation may be.”
She certainly has a way with words.
“The Council would have you imprisoned if they found out about this, you know.” This coming from Elias, though in a much less threatening way than Trya’ak had expected. Instead, it seemed these two were almost more concerned with Trya’ak’s standing in the Order than even he was. “You haven’t joined in with the Sith, have you?”
A laugh pulled at the corners of Trya’ak’s mouth upon registering Elias’s question. True, it was a common misconception with Jedi that one could do nothing but fall prey to evil without the beacons of morality known as Jedi Masters, but it was still such a silly notion. Even when Trya’ak had been in good standing with the Order, he’d never put much stock in the idea.
“Now really,” he replied, feigning indignity. “Do the jedi think so little of me as to write me off as sith simply because I disagree with the Masters?”
He couldn’t resist a genuine chuckle at his own joke, but he knew it was little more than a stalling attempt while he thought of a response for Kassal. Part of him wanted to lie about why he was here; to tell her he truly just missed the old place and wanted to spend a few minutes wandering his old haunts. The other part of him hated deception and knew he was terrible at it. Furthermore, he didn’t sense that either of these two were the type to run to the Masters simply because a former Jedi sought knowledge inaccessible to him. He could be entirely wrong, of course - Artien *had* always told him his senses were ill-attuned - but in Trya’ak’s experience, truth was always the best course of action.
Fortunately, Elias was keen on diverting the conversation - at least for the moment. Eventually they would circle back around to Trya’ak’s reason for infiltrating the temple, but for the moment at least he had more time to think of a satisfactory answer.
“You know they can’t see anything but black and white,” Elias said. “If you’re not with them, you’re not one of the good guys. Typically I’d say I agree, but your situation is a difficult one.”
“One not made any better by covertly entering somewhere you’re not supposed to be in the dead of night,” Kassal chimed in.
Trya’ak thought he was beginning to like her. And he knew there was no use stalling any longer.
“Not much slips past you, does it?” he asked Kassal, still maintaining a pleasant smile. “I can’t say the life of an exile disagrees with me, but it does have it’s disadvantages. Since leaving the Order, I’ve continued to study the Force and my connection to it. There’s no shortage of information in the galaxy on the subject, but convincing those who hold that information to part with it isn’t always easy. The Jedi have the upper hand in that respect. The archives are home to information and teachings that are near-impossible for others to lay their hands on. For someone to continue growing in the Force - or rather, for my particular studies, I need information that must be somewhere in those archives.”
Realizing that he had been monologuing and pacing the visible area of the cavern, he stopped for a moment to catch his breath and allow the others a moment to think. “Of course, I know that means you’re obligated to stop me, so I won’t cause an incident. But… well, I do miss this place. And despite what the Council may say, I do care about the Jedi. You two are the first to speak to me since my exile. It’s nice to be able to talk about the Force to people who actually understand it.”
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There was a relatively long pause, during which Trya’ak could only assume the jedi were analyzing him once again. It was true that jedi were far more adept at detecting deception than common individuals, so eventually they would have to see that Trya’ak was only telling the truth.
After letting his words hang in the air for a few moments, Kassal finally spoke. “I see no problem helping you better inform yourself. It’s criminal to stop someone seeking knowledge, let alone one who is studying the nature of the force to better understand it. That is, assuming you have no qualms with it, Elias. I would understand if you do, the council would surely forbid it in an instant.”
An almost imperceptible smile crept to the corner of her face as she spoke the last few words and gave Elias a meaningful glance, causing Trya’ak to wonder precisely where these two stood within the Order, and how they felt about the Council.
“But perhaps we could help each other here,” Kassal continued, turning her gaze back to Trya’ak. “If you have not fallen to the dark side then I personally see no reason why you should not be permitted to study the mysteries of the force.”
Elias looked as though he agreed, but there was something else preventing him from supporting Kassal fully. “They’ll put Trya’ak in prison if they find him in the Temple. I can’t allow it.”
He paused, seeming to weigh his options behind blue eyes. “I will go to the Archives and retrieve the information you seek. I am a Knight of the Jedi Order - they will not question my desire to seek more knowledge. I’ll bring the information back here to you.”
Trya’ak couldn’t recall a situation within recent memory where he had been so elated and curious at the same time. His greatest fear had been that the Jedi would discover him halfway into the Temple, assume the absolute worst, and somehow turn him into even more of an outcast - if not an outright criminal. Half that fear had been met; he had been discovered, but met with hospitality rather than hostility. Two young Jedi who, as far as he could see, were just as tired of the unflinchingly rigid structure and apathy the Council promoted. He knew there were those like him, of course, he just didn’t think he’d have ever been fortunate enough to find them.
Then came the disappointing part, and the bit that would take some explanation.
“I can’t tell you how much that offer means to me,” he said politely, looking from Kassal to Elias. “But I’m afraid the information I’m looking for won’t be available to you. The plan was to use Master Oardea’s access codes to enter the restricted section. I’m…”
He was tempted to lie yet again. To say that he was researching the dark side in order to combat the Sith on his own, or that he had been mistaken for a Jedi and needed the knowledge in order to defend himself. Before his exile such thoughts - or rather, the frequency of them - would have shocked him, but survival outside the Order had necessitated that he develop an aptitude for deception. What a slippery slope that had turned out to be.
There was also the fact that he was beginning to like both Elias and Kassal. It’s so much easier to be honest with people one likes.
“I’m studying the dark side. Carefully,” he added hastily, knowing that his exact wording was critical. “The Council relentlessly tells Jedi to be wary of corruption, but how can we know to defend against that corruption when we don’t even know what it’s capable of? How can we fight the Sith if we don’t know how their power works? There’s merit to the Council’s teachings and of course, I’m not blind to the fact that it’s dangerous. But I want to understand. I want to know everything about the Force that there is so I can determine for myself what can be used to help people. When I meet a dark jedi, I want to be able to tell them that I know what they’re going through rather than spew some nonsense about coming back to the light.”
*Maybe that was a little too honest.*
Trya’ak wanted to argue with himself about that, but he’d have plenty of solitary time later to do so. At that moment he was much more focused on finally being able to explain his desires to people who might understand them. And of course, he didn’t want them to risk their positions within the Order on a plan that almost certainly wouldn’t work.
“So truly, thank you for the offer, both of you. But I’ll find a less risky way to get what I’m after. I don’t want either of you suffering in any way just to satisfy my curiosity.”
“If I may…” Kassal started, shifting her hands behind her back. She appeared to be nervous, as though almost indecisive about whether or not to actually vocalize what she desperately wanted to say. Of course, it could be the utter mystery her very demeanor seemed to exude, hiding intentions behind her long raven-colored hair and piercing red eyes, but Trya’ak wanted to think that he had some small amount of intuition for these kinds of things.
“The Jedi code teaches us that there is no ignorance, there is knowledge. And when fighting an enemy, knowing them is half of the battle. Which… unfortunately is not a concept that the Council seems very keen on when it comes to our sworn enemies. I can not be the only one that feels that way?”
She certainly wasn’t, but just as Trya’ak was about to speak up, she burst forth with more exposition. This was something she’d been waiting to put to words for a long time.
“The dark side is assuredly dangerous, but does not danger, trials, tribulation lead to developing one’s inner strength? I…” she stopped abruptly, realizing that it was looked down upon for jedi to question the foundations of their ideology. That had been Trya’ak once.
“You’re absolutely right.”
The words felt like they didn’t even belong to him. Speaking them wasn’t even a conscious decision; it was a force of nature. Seeing Kassal’s reluctance to express her opinions due to the teachings of the jedi, there was no more fitting response than unadulterated validation. More jedi needed to know that it was perfectly within their right - perhaps it was even their obligation - to question the ideology they were told to blindly accept.
And then came another subconscious decision.
“I was exiled because I exercised what I believe to be our responsibility to understand the Force in all its aspects.” He wanted to stop speaking the second after he’d begun, but it was too late. “The Council will tell you that I proved to be too unruly, or they may even say that I was falling to the dark side. Really, I was studying a sith holocron that Artien and I found in the Outer Rim. When he found out, I…”
Trya’ak’s voice trailed off, briefly recalling the day he’d crossed swords with the man who had practically raised him for nearly a decade. “I acted impulsively. Made a mistake that I still regret every morning when I wake up. But it taught me that there’s so much more to the Force - there’s so much more to life and the universe in general that the Jedi simply refuse to acknowledge. They’re so afraid of being corrupted by evil that I think it’s taken something away from them.”
He paused once more, aware of the fact that he was talking entirely too much. His brain just wouldn’t stop. He’d been waiting to have this conversation with someone who could relate for so long that it all just came bursting out of him, making him momentarily forget the point of it all.
“I guess all of this is to say that you’re not alone,” he continued with a smile. “Don’t let them convince you you’re not one of the ‘good guys’ just because you see things that could be improved around here. And if you ever decide that this just isn’t the right place for you, now you know a certain nautolan who would be happy to have company.”
The latter bit of his statement took her off-guard, Trya’ak thought, but she looked genuinely appreciative all the same. Her eyes darted about for a moment, searching for the correct response, before she uttered a simple but sincere, “Thank you.”
Trya’ak smiled politely just as Elias began to speak again.
“I would be a hypocrite for ostracizing your study of the sith and the dark side.” He paused for a moment, allowing Trya’ak to truly digest the meaning of those words before continuing. “However, to acquire what you seek you will have to either access the temple’s archives or find a powerful dark jedi, neither of which are great ideas.”
Trya’ak had known it was so, but the statement still sent him into a bit of a dejected temperament. Truly, even with Elias’s offer of help, accessing the archives was a terrible idea. There was a reason only Masters were allowed certain information, and it was well-guarded. There would be no way for Trya’ak to reach the archives undetected, and even if Elias could, he would surely be found during any attempt to get that information to Trya’ak. The risk was simply too great.
And yet, that wasn’t even the greatest of his concerns, as Elias promptly continued speaking. “I think we all can agree that the Order isn’t perfect, but if you want to make a difference then it should be from within. To study the sith and the dark side is one thing, but to do so from outside the Order prevents young jedi from learning as you have learned. You would help only yourself in that endeavor, and though I can't claim to know you well, it’s clear that you’re remarkably compassionate. There are plenty more who would benefit greatly from your example.”
Both Elias’s and Kassal’s sentiments weighed heavily on Trya’ak in the moments that he chose his next words, though for polar opposite reasons. It was humbling to receive gratitude for simply acknowledging the padawan’s basic rights, but perhaps more pressing was her first sentiment: the common belief that they seemed to share was indeed dangerous. Perhaps more so than any of them even realized.
“I find myself agreeing with you again,” he said, offering them a light smile before pressing on more urgently. “These are murky waters we tread at best, and not just for us. This is a belief that would fundamentally change the Order, and doctrine isn’t easily changed after thousands of years of unwavering adherence. To challenge these principles may cause some to lose their faith in the Jedi altogether, while others would cling stubbornly and violently to tradition. In either situation, people will be hurt.”
Trya’ak knew what needed to be said next, but it was a sentiment he himself had been struggling with for years. He also knew that he was opening up perhaps more than he should, but that had always been what Master Brinvar had referred to as an “admirable deficiency” in his adherence to Jedi teachings.
“That’s why I’m sad to say I don’t agree,” he said to Elias. “I honestly hope I’m wrong, but I’m not sure that the Order can undergo the changes needed without tearing itself apart. If there’s any way I can help then of course, I won’t hesitate. I just need to be realistic. The word of an exile doesn’t carry much weight, I’m afraid.”
Elias gave Trya’ak his full attention then, offering him a sort of reaffirming glance. “The word of an exile, no, but it may not always be that way. If we can show others that individuality and freedom of thought and expression aren’t ideals to be feared, the Council can’t very well deny the call of a thousand voices. When the time comes, it won’t matter if you’re an exile or a Master. It’ll only matter that you’re trying to make the Jedi stronger. Have faith. It may take time, but I know we can change.”
“Yes, change never occurs overnight,” Kassal added. “Especially one as broad as this. And…” She paused, glancing between the two of them briefly. “I hate to break it to you, but we are probably going to be needing more than three like-minded individuals,” she said with a ghost of a smile. “We need to start a discussion with others.”
The gravity of the conversation loomed overhead as both Elias and Kassal continued to voice their thoughts and opinions; so much so that Trya’ak was sure even Artien would have approved of the solemn nature with which he considered their words. They were both right. The kind of change they had in mind didn’t necessitate a schism within the Order, but it would certainly not be a hasty process if they wanted to do so peacefully. It would have to happen gradually, one person at a time, perhaps over the course of years or even decades.
Still, looking at his newfound allies, a sliver of Trya’ak’s mind thought that if anyone could spark a revitalization, it was this group. Surely his excitable and self-assured personality had something to do with that belief, but wasn’t it better to hope for the best? There was very little that could hold a man back if he possessed hope, joy, and the support of those he trusted.
“After this meeting and all that we’ve learned about each other, you have my support without a doubt,” Trya’ak said, taking time to address both Elias and Kassal. “Both of you. If you need me, I’ll be there. As for speaking to others, well . . .” His voice trailed off and his thoughts followed quickly, taking him to the only other person he knew who shared a remotely similar mindset.
“I have a tentative relationship with someone who might see things the way we do, if we can convince him our issues with the Order are authentic. A Sith by the name of Kull Biis. He doesn’t know I’m an exile, nor do I know much of his relationship with his masters. What I do know is that he’s not happy under the Empire’s thumb, and he’s not the only one. If we arrange a meeting and discuss our intentions for change, we may be able to effect the same change within the Sith.”
Trya’ak waited with bated breath. He’d divulged no shortage of shocking information, but this was possibly the most intriguing of it all. Questioning the Jedi teachings was one thing; befriending a Sith apprentice was another, and his nerves stood on edge to see what Elias and Kassal thought of one of his deepest secrets.
Strangely, Kassal didn’t express much of a reaction other than cocking her head and placing a fist to her chin as she considered the idea. Elias, on the other hand, didn’t take the news so well. His eyes narrowed and his posture stiffened.
“You realize how that sounds, right?” Trya’ak didn’t even need to answer the question, nor did he need Elias to continue. He knew exactly what the man was about to say. “I can't say that I approve, considering my history with them, but . . .” He gave the nautolan an appraising look. “I will put my trust in you and see where you take us. This whole thing, changing the Order, will never work if we can't trust one another. Though I hope it goes without saying that if I sense betrayal, he’ll never make it back to the Empire.”
“Give it a chance, Elias.” There was a tone in Kassal’s voice that almost demanded obedience. She was curious. “Healthy skepticism aside . . . I, for one, would like to speak with this Sith. My people - the Chiss, that is - are allied with the Empire, yet here I am. And it has been a very long time since I have been with my kin, but they a very pragmatic people.”
For a moment it seemed that Kassal was somewhere else entirely. Her eyes went hollow and Trya’ak sensed that she was lost deep in thought, likely recalling memories of her time before being inducted into the Order. It was odd that she would even have those memories, considering how young potential students were when the Jedi took them. Trya’ak himself couldn’t recall a thing before his life with the Order.
But then reality closed itself in around her, and Kassal continued. “I believe that if the chiss thought it wise to pursue negotiations with the Sith on certain fronts, so should we. We are always taught that trying to turn the enemy to the light should be done if at all possible. And while not every Sith can be saved, what of all of those that are born into the empire that only know what the Sith have taught them?”
Were Trya’ak a more insightful individual, he supposed he wouldn’t be quite so surprised that Elias and Kassal took the news so well. Granted, there was a certain hostility that had to be expected, but Trya’ak understood that all too well. Any time he had ever come across another Sith during his tenure with the Order, it had almost always come to blows. The simple fact that a man so cavalier and adamant in his beliefs as Elias was willing to give it a try meant more than words could describe.
“Believe me,” he said, addressing both of them, “every thought running through your heads right now, I’ve had them too. But I trust this guy. If that’s the wrong call, I’d expect no less than for you to do your duty as jedi; but if I’m right, maybe everything changes.”
It had been a very, very long time since Trya’ak had felt such a surge of hope build up within him. The thought of the four of them - himself, Elias, Kassal and Kull - along with who knew how many Force adepts all uniting together was such a powerful one that he was sure this was why he’d been removed from the Order. His imagination was already a dozen steps ahead of reality, he knew, but it was an inspiring thought nonetheless.
Trya’ak took a deep breath and tried to temper his excitement. “Okay then. I’ll contact you with more information once I speak to Kull. The meet will probably have to take place off-world, potentially in the Outer Rim, so we may have to plan things carefully. But we’ll work it out. I have a great feeling about this.”