“There is no reason for you to be here anymore!” The woman shouted, clutching her child. The boy, nearly fourteen and seeming mortified, moved to talk. His mother spoke over him after a slap over the head. “And if you ever come near my child again-”
“You’ll do what?” Artemus was calm, though the Force pulsed with the slightest hint of irritation. Morgan had gotten rather good at reading the man, though it seemed few of the jedi here had the fine control needed for something like that. “I am curious. What will you do?”
The woman scowled, the boy using the opportunity to speak up. “He wasn’t even doing anything! I just wanted to hold it!”
“It’s a lightsaber, not a toy!” The kid cringed back, a tear in his eye. His mother didn’t even seem to notice. “And there’s a good reason we don’t carry them everywhere! I swear, if he had gotten hurt-”
“Again, Merabeth, what could you have possibly done? Anger is no excuse to act irrational, and the boy was never in any danger.”
“What?” The woman looked disbelieving, pointing to the lightsaber on his belt. “It's a lightsaber!”
“That could not be activated, since our guest decoupled the power source before handing it over.”
Merabeth scowled, storming off after another curse or two. The man he suspected to be her husband stepped aside as she stormed into her house, dragging the kid with her all the while. Artemus turned to him, eyebrow raised. “Why not tell her?”
“She had her narrative, and the opinions of strangers don’t matter to me. I do believe she’s rather stressed.”
Artemus sighed. “We are a closed community. Some see the presence of an outsider as a treat, an opportunity to learn. Others do not. Come, we shall continue our practice.”
Practice involved lots of blood, these days. It was his last session, by their agreement. Morgan had verified a week was the most he could afford, even if his host had already told him as much, and he would be leaving as the suns set.
The roof was their usual practice space, though the cave was one too. He’d only been there twice, sadly enough, and it was likely he wouldn't be back. Accepted here or not, he was sith. The guardians of that place didn’t like his kind much, even if they got confused when they smelled him. Artemus sat, hands on his knees, and Morgan joined him.
“The heart is a delicate organ. Strong, yes, and unrelenting, but the slightest clog results in death. You will study my heart, fix what I break.”
Easier said than done. Still, Morgan felt a smile start to climb as the day passed. Fixing organs was hard, far harder than regrowing limbs, and required control even he didn’t have. Using the body as a template, it knew how it was supposed to function much better than him, helped, but even then fixing the damage was a lost cause. Reinforcing the organ in other ways, strengthening parts to cover for the broken bits, was the thing he focussed on most. Artemus nodded, pleased. “Very good. Come, we shall have dinner. You have learned the basics, the rest will come with experience and time.”
That was fair enough. The dinner was nice, if simple, and he ignored the woman glaring at him with practised ease. Her husband put a hand on her shoulder, whispering something in her ear, and after that she stopped looking at him at all. The kid didn’t, though, even if he was too scared to speak to him again.
Funny thing, that. No fear before his mother took him aside, no fear for actions he did to him or his, and even now he feared his mother instead of him. It was enough to make him snort, dipping the thin piece of bread into strangely honeyed sauce. It had actual taste, it seemed that was reserved for special occasions, and Morgan spent the time talking with some of the others.
Jedi without dogma or hate, simply discussing techniques or meditation with someone from a different creed. One or two even looked vaguely interested, nodding along as he described his experience in the cave. All good things had to come to an end, though, and by the time he got back to his room on the Aurora Teacher floated over.
“Vette said you’ve been getting instructions from some jedi recluse in the desert.” If he didn’t know better, the cube sounded jealous. Vette sent him a guilty look, mouthing an apology. Not guilty enough to tear herself away from the drama, it would seem. “I will see if they have managed to undo all my progress with you.”
He was tired, the Force felt like a bruised muscle, and nothing seemed more tempting than dropping down on the couch and having Vette distractedly comb his hair. Still, needs must. “Nothing of the sort. I’ll demonstrate.”
Doing so on his own body was harder, the Force resisted self mutilation with stubborness he thought it incapable of, but it was good enough for a demonstration. Teacher was watching closely, hovering over his work like the worst type of supervisor, and grunted as the last of the damage was repaired. Vette, fortunately, didn’t catch what exactly he was doing. No need to stress her out.
“It has some merit.” Teacher allowed. “Although I see you have managed to adapt many of the principles I taught you.”
That almost sounded like a compliment. Morgan smiled. “Thank you. Do I pass inspection?”
“Barely, but yes.” The cube tilted, floating a little farther away. “Why did you seek instruction with them?”
“I didn’t. I took them up on it when it was offered, and I don’t regret it.” A happier time came to mind, an old man serving tea to a troubled, scarred boy. “It is important to draw wisdom from many different places. If we take it from only one, it becomes rigid and stale.”
“That sounds like a quote!” Vette piped up, eyes flickering over. “Sorry, go ahead. Still, you didn’t think of that.”
“It is a quote.” I sighed, shooting her a glare. “Does that make it untrue?”
Teacher shook his head. “No. Hide.”
Morgan did by instinct, sinking backwards into the Force until it streamed over him. A river came to mind, sinking deep beneath the waves until none could see his body, and then he sunk deeper still. To the heart of Tatooine, basking in that gentle humming. A gasp dragged him out of it, seeing Vette point at him like a child. “You became invisible!”
“You think she’d be used to stuff like this by now.” Teacher muttered, dodging the pillow with a flourish. “But she is not wrong. You hid, though thankfully not from Baras. What did you do?”
“You can’t tell?”
Teacher’s tone was dry, bordering on impatient. “The definition of hiding is so that no one else can see you. A bond between master and apprentice, however nominal, is different from casual inspection. You disappeared from sight, though in this case that is only because the planet is a nexus point. It is easy to hide behind a mountain, less so a stone.”
“Oh. Well, pretty much what you said. Tatooine has a pulse, almost like a heartbeat, and matching myself to it seemed obvious. Sinking beneath the waves, so to speak. I guess that makes my body invisible too?”
“Camouflaged. Translucent, perhaps” The cube corrected. “Not invisible.”
“So wait no hold up. If he can turn invisible, and learn to mute sound, how am I going to sneak up on him anymore?”
“If you keep interrupting I will ask you to leave the room.”
Vette gasped dramatically, pointing at Teacher. “This is my domain, interloper. You can have his undivided attention in the training rooms, but here he is mine.”
“You are no more a house broken woman than I am a womp rat. Cook dinner, then you can have a tenuous claim on these rooms.”
“I can show you exactly how broken in I am.” She countered, scowling fiercely. “How about you grow arms so we can see how good you are with the stove.”
Morgan left them to it, taking a steaming hot shower and making sure the tooth had regrown properly. Having to pull one after it had grown in wrong had been annoying, so taking ten seconds to double check wasn’t so bad. It had taken perhaps twenty minutes, and when he got back to the main living room Vette was sulking on the couch. “What did I miss?”
“Nothing.”
Teacher floated smugly over the stove, flipping what looked like pancakes. Morgan blinked, deciding to ignore that. “I deemed to inform that inferior creature about my life before. High ranked nobles on my planet had large harems, and many of mine served as Force sensitive bodyguards. It seems she can’t quite stack up to them, female or not.”
“Being unable to ignore the laws of physics doesn’t mean they were better than me.” She hissed, not looking at them. Her tone lowered, muttering to herself. “And I work hard at those kegel exercises, dammit.”
Deciding to ignore that too led to the strange experience of Teacher serving him pancakes. The cube seemed to realise that about two seconds after he had, dropping it on the table with more force than needed. “I have other matters to attend to.”
“How many matters can a stupid floating rock have?” Vette muttered.
Teacher rounded on her, flaring. “More than you, it would seem. Look at that posture, slouched on the couch like some lazy hound. Did you never-”
“Enough!” Morgan snapped, both of them turning to him. “Vette, I love you, but please for the love of god be quiet. Teacher, go get some sleep. You only get that annoyed when you’ve been putting it off.”
The cube wobbled but did as he asked. That left him with just Vette, Teacher powering down somewhere near the shelves. “You alright?”
“Long day. Do you have to needle him like that?”
“Pretty much. It's good for him, makes him feel alive.”
“If you say so.” She beckoned, wrapping herself around him as he sat down. “How was your day?”
“Productive. How’s the army?”
She pulled a face. “Slow. Not bad, mind you, but I’m using Tatooine to get them in shape. Dorka has been teaching me larger scale tactics and strategy, though apparently I’m better at scoundreling, and I’m cleaning up the place. Not much worth in establishing a branch here anyway, and the credits we’re getting will fund the next planet with ease.”
“Prepare for a well populated one, but no ecumenopolis. Lots of internal factions, but they’ll band together against aggressive outsiders. Garden world, with few crime rings that don’t belong to the nobility.”
“Thanks.” She nuzzled against his shoulder, her voice soft. “You hear what Cubie said?”
“About being a high ranked noble, yea. Didn’t think he was lying when he said he doesn’t remember his name, but who knows?”
“Could be he’s getting it back.” She pointed out. “Teaching you is for more than his own entertainment. Think he’ll turn against us?”
Morgan shook his head, hesitating. “Unlikely, but we’ll know for sure sooner or later.”
She seemed to accept that, resuming the drama that he couldn't have cared less about. Still, it was nice to relax.
----------------------------------------
“He is stable?”
Artemus nodded, those eyes seeing far more than his ever could. Even after Nar Shaddaa, where he had witnessed more than he ever wished. “And his temperament?”
“Wrath against those that hurt the ones he loves, apathy against those he is ordered to kill. Love for those he treasures, a bulwark for those he considers to be under his charge.”
Not much had changed, then, since Balmorra. Still, he had to be sure. “Is it true?”
“The Light and Dark seemed to have found peace within him.” Artemus confirmed, shrugging. “It is not something that interests us.”
It wouldn't. He had to take a moment to stem the irritation, his annoyance at those that hid while the galaxy burned. Even sith, as despicable as they were, did something, anything, to end the war. “How loyal is he to the sith?”
“He is so by circumstance, seeing no safe path away. Should one present itself, I have no doubt he would burn the entire order to ashes on his way out. I am not sure if he will come to Tython afterwards.”
Good to know. “Thank you, Underseer. I seek guidance from the old world.”
“Of course, He Who Walks in Shadow. A warning, before we go?”
He nodded, Artemus focusing on him instead of the future. “Do not fight him.”
“I learned that lesson on Balmorra.” A snort escaped before he could think better of it. “And he was outnumbered then. Still got his mission done, too. Lead the way, Underseer.”
He’d only had the privilege of meditating here once before, back when he was a padawan, and it was a breathtaking experience even then. How the world seemed to fade away as wet grassland took its place, the whole of Tatooine replaced by a living tree. Enormous in its strength, the planet resting comfortably on its branches yet strong beneath his feet.
Now he used it to get clarity, to plead forgiveness for attacking one of his sisters in the defence of a sith, and to even, if he was lucky, receive a premonition. Not something that had ever happened before, but if ever was the time it was now. When a Je'daii walked the galaxy once more, mastering their secrets from within a dusty cave on a hellish world. His order had been striving for that for centuries, and yet some wet behind the ears acolyte had managed it? It had been enough to nearly drive him out of balance when he shadowed the man on Nar Shaddaa, before the godling had taken all his attention. To attack and demand his prize, for wasn’t he more worthy?
Tatooine thrummed, displeased at his lack of attention, and one of its branches seemed to split. It bent, stretching down so far distance seemed a silly concept, and tapped him over the head. A familiar gesture, from back when he was a child. His first master, someone who he secretly loved like his mother, had done that many times.
‘Serenity is not without sacrifice, little one.’ She’d scolded, having caught him with his hand in the cookie jar. Literally, to his embarrassment. “It is peace of self, peace of mind and soul, that brings it to us. Like smoke beneath our fingers, grasping for it will do nothing but raise frustration.”
He thought he knew what she meant. Joined the ranks of the Shadows, permitted the Dark to hold sway over his heart. What could be a more fitting sacrifice than that? Yet years of service with them had brought him no closer, even when he was inducted into their most sacred mission. To recover true balance, and attain perfection in the Force. Equality, and through it the power to destroy the true evil in the galaxy.
Yet they had been grasping too hard, hadn’t they? Most didn’t think so. They kept tinkering with the right balance, falling to the Dark or being scoured by the Light. Yet he’d found one who seemed to so effortlessly achieve it, the Dark and Light twirling like nothing he’d ever seen. Not balanced, not really, yet Dark yielded to Light, and returned the favour without issue.
Attacking his fellow jedi had earned him little more than condemnation from his order. Fallen, they said, and dismissed his claims with the arrogance of age. Some rare few listened, but they hadn’t felt it. Seen it. They demanded proof he could not give, so he went looking for it.
The tree of Tatooine had returned to its normal stature, as if he imagined it all, and he stood. His datapad told him days and days had passed, praising his past self for bringing water and food. Then he went looking, for he’d been trying too hard. A man knew the answers to his questions, a man that owed him for saving his life. A man that seemed almost suspiciously reasonable, if still sith, and trapped by a duty he didn't believe in.
Finding the sith took time. The man was, at nearly all times, surrounded by warriors and soldiers, but he found himself with patience to spare. Then, after hours of planning and a stroke of luck, the man was alone.
He dropped from his vantage point, years and years of practice making him all but unnoticeable. The sith reacted as if he’d dropped a stone instead, lightsaber in hand and a second away from calling reinforcements. “Sith. I come in peace.”
“I like peace.” The man said, sounding sincere. “Balmorra notwithstanding. I never did catch your name.”
“Bundu Argrava.”
“Morgan. It’s nice to meet you properly. How is your friend? I can't quite seem to remember what happened to her.”
“Dead. She did not take my actions well, and in her anger she was unbalanced. I regret what I was forced to do.”
“You worked well together.” The sith seemed briefly amused, as if his near death was a private joke. “Better than any I’ve seen up until then.”
Bundu nodded his head, hand carefully away from his lightsaber. The sith returned his to his belt. “We are jedi, and we spend some time getting to know each other.”
“Right, someone told me jedi do casual sex. To be honest, I don’t see it.”
The taunt was ignored with ease. Hearing his own creed from the mouth of a sith, back on Balmorra, now that had been a taunt. “It wasn’t like that.”
“If you say so. What can I help you with?”
The deciding moment. Four or five, that was what he’d once heard. Four or five moments that define your life. Accepting the quest for serenity at the age of ten was one, though he hadn't known it then. Accepting a place among the True Shadows was another, one made with open eyes. Would this be a third? It was so hard to tell in the heat of the moment.
“You are Je’daii. You owe me for saving your life. How are you Je’daii?”
The sith shook his head, smiling a fake smile. “Favours work better when you don’t demand them. I am not Je’daii because the Je’daii followed a code I don’t know.”
Reciting it was memory, learned within the first week of joining the order. Still, it rankled that the first to discover their ways of life didn’t even know their creed. “There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no fear, there is power. I am the heart of the Force. I am the revealing fire of light. I am the mystery of darkness. In balance with chaos and harmony, Immortal in the Force.”
“Codes say much about an order, but the Je’daii are old.” The sith shrugged. “Times change.”
“Let me feel it again.”
Morgan raised an eyebrow. “Let you, a known enemy, feel my soul deep enough killing me would be childsplay?”
“I saved your life once. I do not seek to take it now.”
He seemed to consider that, tilting his head. “That will use up your favour. You saved me, that much is true, but let’s not pretend you did so for my sake.”
“I agree.” That was fine. He never thought he would get the knowledge that cheaply anyway. Defences fell, though they watched with horrifying sentience when he passed them. The Dark and Light played without reservation, just as they had last time. Stronger, more tame and eager, but the same. He withdrew, eyes wide. “Thank you.”
“You must have been looking for a while.” The sith commented, defences rising. It startled him that he wasn’t sure if he could break them, not anymore. “What did you see?”
“The Light and Dark at peace. Cooperating.”
“And you want to know how I did it? Forgive me, but no. I like you, you’ve got that possessed researcher look about you, but secrets like that aren’t to be shared. Not with strangers in alleyways.”
Three moments remaining. Keeping an eye on the sith was harder and harder, once or twice he’d slipped from his perception completely, and he had never been indecisive. Cautious, yes, even stubborn at times, but never that.
“I propose service for service, knowledge for knowledge.”
Silence was his answer, the sith looking at him while not. It reminded him uncomfortably of Artemus, if not quite so bad. When he spoke again it was a resigned air, waving around him. “I’ve had my fill of people smarter than me making confusing statements. What are you offering?”
“Service for knowledge. You teach me, I’ll serve.” Crude, but if needs must. He’d been following increasingly radical masters anyway, and by all accounts the sith in front of him now had committed less crimes than they had. “But I won’t turn on the jedi, or the Republic.”
“I’ve fought exactly two jedi, and you’re one of them. I don’t pick fights, I don’t like killing. I don’t dislike it either, mind, but I certainly don’t get any pleasure from it. Having said that, I might not have a choice in the future.”
Well, it remained a war. Most of them had turned their backs on him the first chance they got, so the thought of setting a sith on them brought a certain guilty satisfaction with it. “Of course.”
If the sith expected him to kneel, he would be disappointed. That didn’t happen, but the man did tilt his head and looked at him. Seeing his perception swell was an interesting problem in comparison, seeming both stronger and weaker than on Balmorra. Stronger, because it seemed so much more controlled. Weaker because some of it was hidden, twisting past his own sight like smoke in the wind. The sith didn’t even seem aware he was doing it.
“So, assuming you keep your word, what do you want to know?”
“I always keep my word.” Bundu said, warning in his tone. “How did you figure it out? My order has been trying for centuries, failure often meaning you cannot try again.”
“Your order.” The sith paused, a moment of interest on his face. Bundu frowned. “That would be the same one that Nomen Karr belongs to? Infiltrators, assassins?”
“Some parts. Most of us busy ourselves with the destruction of the sith and their legacy, whatever form that might take.”
More amusement, along with something different. A deepening of the Force, faint enough he doubted the sith could feel it. Talented he may be, he was also young. Inexperienced. It took a moment, one where he feared some jedi master or sith warlord had come to the planet, before he realised what it was.
Tatooine itself was paying attention, the great tree bending ever so slightly in their direction. Bundu swallowed, knowing with iron certainty it favoured the sith over himself. “Nomen Karr is deemed an extremist even more so than myself, but as long as he brings results the Master will not banish him.”
“Then I have a requirement, before telling you what I know.” Bundu nodded, feeling with dread and a strange anticipation how a branch was coming near. Bending and twisting around them, intermingling with the sith’s presence. “You tell not a soul. Not your masters, or friends. Not the people you love or the Grand Master herself. You will not record or otherwise preserve this knowledge. That and service, that is the deal. You will learn, but you alone.”
“And what if there are others like me? Those that wish to enlighten themselves?”
“Then they will bargain for it themselves.”
Bundu hesitated, the Force sniffing at his uncertainty, before nodding. “I will tell not a soul, and serve as I am able.”
The branch pierced his heart, cold spreading through his lungs and limbs, and it was gone the next moment. The sith smiled, nodding. “A man of your word indeed. I haven’t seen someone make a false promise yet, not like this, and to be honest I’m in no hurry to.”
The sith knew, then, if not the whole of it. The urge to keep it from him was old, both taught and learned, and the Force constricted in warning. Bundu shook his head. It seemed that oath had done more than secure his silence, though if that was a trick by the sith he couldn't find it on his face. “You are favoured by the Force. Meditate on this.”
He expected a scoff, the usual disdain and arrogance he saw when dealing with sith, but instead the man nodded thoughtfully. “I will. Now, the secrets of the Je’daii. Fair warming, you might be disappointed.”
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
“I hope not to be.”
The sith shrugged. “Very well. What you call a Je’daii secret is no secret at all, but the Force. Everyone seems to focus on applying labels like Dark and Light, good and evil. It’s neither, though sometimes I still fall into that trap myself, and both. The Force just is, neither belonging to the sith nor jedi. Only our relationship gives it shape, and when Korriban seemed so intent on killing me I realised the Dark only exists because people thought it existed. A hundred thousand sith imprinting on the planet, until even its soul leaned in that direction. I knew nothing practical about the Force back then, so I suppose I had it easier.”
That’s nonsense. Bundu knew people that had tried that, spoken to so called mages and priests on primitive planets that saw neither the Dark nor Light, but no one had been able to make anything of it. Dozens had still tried, over and over. “That is not possible.”
“What do you see when you look at me?” The sith didn’t seem bothered by his disbelief. Expected it, probably. He’d been a fool to swear an oath before knowing what the man knew. “The Dark and Light in balance, right? I don’t see that. I just use the Force, more like colourless energy, and ascribe no labels.”
That couldn't be true. Was it? “How?”
“Desperation played a part, as did hopelessness. I had nothing, lost everything, and accepted that the Force was more than I could ever be. It’s alive, don’t you know? Not as we are, nothing so crude, but alive all the same. Think on that, Shadow, and see if you can let go of a belief forced onto you from childhood.”
He paused, as if considering something, then shrugged.
“I’ll expect updates, though none that might damage the jedi or Republic, and an honest attempt at cooperation.”
With that the sith was gone, the Force leaving with him, and Bundu felt as if his whole life was cracking like glass.
----------------------------------------
“So this is the place, huh?” It was refreshing, really, just to have the two of them. Her own people were running drills and preparing for the next planet, so she had the time. “Doesn’t look like much.”
“Places can surprise you.” Morgan had seemed strangely introspective ever since dealing with that crazy jedi. She’d scoffed, as was expected of her, but internally she shuddered. If jedi were already swearing allegiance, an order well known for their hatred of sith, she couldn't imagine what next year would look like. “If you let them. Don’t make any rash calls here, alright?”
“Sure.”
The pool of water didn’t change her mind, nor did the admittedly abnormal sand bother. Smooth and white, like a paradise beach instead of a cursed desert. Her hand itched to her blaster as two figures walked out, nor nearly as incorporeal as she’d been led to believe.
Morgan didn’t seem surprised, so that was good, but even so she kept on guard. One, the left one, looked edgy. Dark armour adorned with a skull, exuding arrogance like Morgan almost never did. His posture screamed of confidence, of power, and she didn’t need the red tint to its shadow to know this was the Dark aligned version.
The other, clad in robes with a serene look to him, was more normal. Same searching look, his posture just as confident, but the energy was all different. No arrogance, or very little, and the Light seemed to almost exude from his eyes. It spoke before the dark one, voice even. “I am what you could be, had you but joined the Light.”
“And I am what you are meant to be, if you cast away that veneer of civility.”
Her Morgan sighed, tapping his armour. “First of all, neither of you are real.”
That shouldn't have done much, denying someone’s existence usually did nothing but piss them off, but here it made them flinch. The light one looked uncertain, eyes searching around, while the dark one growled. “So sure, are you? Would you still deny my being if I shoved this lightsaber through your gut?”
“Yes.” The certainty surprised even her, Morgan seeming to not care an inch. “Yes I would. The Dark and Light are figments, the mortal mind giving form to the Other. You are no more real than a memory, so spare me the attempts at intimidation.”
Now the light one looked positively lost. The dark one went for his lightsaber, one of four on his belt, but Morgan waved as if annoyed. “Stop it, little ghost. Smoke and mirrors don’t intimidate me.”
They looked real enough to her. Still, the dark one obeyed, growing more agitated. The light one frowned. “This is not how this is supposed to be.”
“So? I am not of the Light, nor the Dark. Neither exists, so any alternate path you think I should have taken means nothing to me.”
“Then why have you even come? Because you remember doing so?”
Vette whirled to the dark one, staring. That might be the first time someone openly questioned his knowledge, and if they were a reflection of him… “What do you know about that?”
The dark one snorted. “Everything he does. Do you want to know the truth, little slave? The whole truth, I mean. Not the half answers he’s been feeding you.”
“Well, that’s one tactic to take.” Morgan didn’t seem worried, but then he was in the sort of mood even she couldn't read him. “I suppose you’re the one that bought into the whole sith dogma?”
“I bought into strength, and it has set me free.”
“Sure. And you, you’re what I would become if I accepted the light. Accepted the jedi.”
“I am at peace. Peace the likes of which you cannot imagine.”
“Try me. Both of you began in Korriban, though?”
They nodded, not seeming sure where he was going with this. She could sympathise, until it clicked. She spoke before she could think better of it, three sets of attention on her. “Oh. You mean me.”
“Yup. If we began on Korriban they’ll have moved heaven and earth to get you off. I suppose the edgy me kept you as a slave, but even him I suspect to have a weak spot for you. Ah, a slave in name only. Keeping the collar but not the rules. Makes sense.”
“You know nothing.”
“I know enough. The angelic me probably took her with him to Tython, or set her free to go wherever. Either way, both took her.”
“So?” The light one had regained his balance, arms folded. It made him look stern. “We have affection for her. This changes nothing.”
“Except the jedi forbid affection, and the sith exploit it. So if you’re both me, she’s dead.”
This time they flinched back hard, the dark more than the light, and Morgan took a step forwards. “So, how much did you enjoy it? Was peace of mind worth the price of freedom? Power the price of trust? What argument could you make that would convince me when I’ve already made up my mind?”
‘I’d be dead?’ She didn’t know what to think of that, really. The sith she could see, oh yes she could see that very easily, but the jedi? She’d made fun of them often enough, but everyone agreed they were more moral than most. ‘Or maybe not the jedi. Defecting can’t come cheap, and if they failed to find him…’
“The purpose of this is to test you.” The light one said, eyes flickering to her. “We can’t do that if you deny we even exist.”
“To test me how? My conviction? They got there before you, the crucible hardening me beyond what I ever thought possible, and doing so again is beyond anyone here. Breaking would have been easier, but we’ve always had a stubborn streak.” The three shared a brief moment of amusement, she had no idea what they were referring to, before the dark one grimaced.
“And what now, then?”
Morgan shrugged. “The location of the master would be nice. If not that, any insights you can share?”
“We have lived different lives, but no skill can transcend the barrier between realities.” The dark one leered. “I do suppose we’re done. Unless you’d like to share her? She can’t have changed that much, and the three of us might be able to outlast her appetite.”
Morgan shook his head. “I dislike sharing. Even with myself, it would seem, although I never thought that would become a problem.”
“You don’t like sharing her with other men.” The light one corrected, the smallest grin on his face. “We are you, remember?”
“Then you know to leave some things well enough alone.”
Both nodded, Morgan waved his hand, and she blinked. The sun had moved, much more so than seemed reasonable, and she saw footprints in the sand. She pointed to them. “That shouldn't be there.”
“Nope.” He shrugged. “Got the location though. Also, shoot that one.”
Her rifle was in hand before she finished turning, taking aim and firing with a breath. Sharack Breev fell, landing with a muted scream. She raised an eyebrow. “So, you’ve been keeping fantasies hidden from me. Bad habit, that. Also, why did I just shoot our guide?”
“Some things even I feel embarrassed by, and being outnumbered while naked seems foolish.” He walked to the fallen stalker, pushing her over. Her shot had taken out the lungs, but she would be fine with some timely medical attention. “Should have known better than to peek.”
“I’m. I meant no disrespect.”
Blood pooled from her mouth, Vette walking over. “I’m not done talking about the other thing, but I’ll entertain this distraction. Think she heard too much? Assuming what just happened was real, of course.”
“If she did, we can’t take the chance. Damned oasis messing with my perception. I should have felt her coming miles off, especially this deep in the desert.” His lightsaber flickered out, taking her head with a clean stroke. “I’m sorry about this, but you're not one of mine. My secrets are worth the life of a stranger.”
Well, more ruthless than normal, but he’d always been a tad touchy about people spying on him. Especially when he was talking like he had been, and the women really should have kept her distance.
“So, that distraction gone, what’s this about a threesome?”
Morgan groaned, making her smile. “In an effort to protect my balls, I have never and will never think about any other women than you.”
“Am I that possessive?”
The dry look he sent her way made her snigger. “Alright, stupid question. Still, I’m open to trying new things.”
----------------------------------------
“Ready?”
“Targets locked. Currently moving through the deep desert, we’ll lose them in a storm approaching from sector nine in seven minutes. Unless they halt or change their current course, it will hit the ground team in fifteen.” Captain Kala sounded as if she would rather be anywhere else, but he knew the truth. Fear and excitement was unbecoming in high ranked officers, so she covered it with boredom. “Weapons primed.”
“I still say this feels cheap.” Vette muttered. After the oasis he’d rather get this done, since killing Baras’s spy on the planet would warrant some attention, but it seemed she wasn’t happy about the lack of a break. Best to have good news ready when Baras came calling, though. “I mean, bombing them from orbit?”
“As opposed to dying heroically against a fully fledged jedi master?” Alyssa muttered, fingers itching for Inara. Morgan ignored the byplay, keeping his perception as open as he could. “Since when do you care about fairness, anyway?”
“Oh, I don’t. Just jealous it was never an option before now.”
“Probably won’t be after, either.” Inara said. “Having air superiority this complete is rare.”
Kala pressed a button, he could almost feel the weight of it in the force, and an area big enough to cover Mos Ila turned to hellfire. Morgan kicked the speeder into action, feeling his targets were still alive, and his three companions for the mission joined him. Again the button was pressed, and again sand was turned to glass. He added speed when the captain gave the all clear.
“Targets are still alive but moving slowly. Wounded, hopefully. You three take the knight, I’ll take the master. Aim for sector seven, the Aurora will get locked on them again soon. No stupid risks.”
They split soon, his speeder roaring under his legs. It wasn’t a feeling he was used to, even if it allowed him to traverse the desert at speed. He had the training, of course, but he still disliked it. Machines like that tended to malfunction at the worst of times. Especially against a jedi master, wounded or not. He briefly wondered if this was a good idea, if it wouldn't be smarter to continue bombing from orbit, but no. Baras would tolerate some tricks, but not that.
It wouldn't be good to show he was replaceable by a warship.
The Aurora transmitted the lock they had on master Yonlach, his speeder turning as he got an exact location. The knight had split, fortunately, so it left him all alone. Not that that would help too much, even if his specialty wasn't combat. Seeing as this one had fought in the last war, age was the only advantage he had. That and whatever damage the Aurora had managed to do.
The jedi was standing on the sands when Morgan came close, missing an arm and with blood dripping down his face. Not that it seemed to bother the man, smiling faintly as he stopped the speeder and got off. “Sith. You seem to have abandoned all arrogance, pride and sadistic tendencies. This does not bode well for my continued survival.”
“Should have brought your own warship. I wasn't feeling like getting turned into kebab just yet, and a missing arm might just make this a fair fight.”
“Something you foresee happening in the future?”
“I’m sith.” Morgan said, a grin creeping on his face. This planet and their likeable old men. “It’s an occupational hazard.”
Yonlach snorted, rotating the stump. It wasn’t bleeding as heavily as it should, though he saw no first aid kit nearby. More blood ran down his leg, colouring the sands. “It truly is a shame you were not found by us. You would have made a great jedi.”
“You’re the second person to say that to me in the last month. Don’t suppose you’ve been gossiping, have you?”
“I haven’t spoken to Artemus in almost four years. The man prefers his solitude, says talking to me clouds his judgement. I think he just doesn’t like me.”
Morgan didn’t answer, his smile dropping as a lightsaber fell into the jedi's hand. Yonlach sighed. “You are after Jaesa, though I will not ask how you already know her name. She is special, unique. She deserves a happy life, far away from war and us monsters.”
“I agree.” The statement seemed to surprise the man, however lightly. When were these people going to learn he wasn’t out here for shits and giggles? “But I was found by sith, so now my life depends on the whim of another. If it was just mine I might have done the honourable thing, the right thing, but it is not.”
The man’s expression turned thoughtful, looking past him. “You seek to recruit her. To turn her.”
“I can honestly say that is the last thing I want to do. As you said, she deserves a happy life.”
A heavy feeling descended on Morgan’s shoulders, attention unlike any he had felt since Baras. Yonlach took half a step forward, naked curiosity on his face. “You are not of the Dark. You are not even sith, are you? Not a Shadow, either. Something else. Something new. Oh, how I wish I could see the look on your master’s face when he finds out.”
“That is dangerous information to have.”
Yonlach didn’t seem to have heard him. “Treat her well, yes? You have my blessing, Stranger from Beyond. I have already told her so, however nebulous our bond can be. By the seven searing circles, the sith will crumble under the weight of their blindness. You will burn them all, do you know? All of them, until none but the United walk the halls of Korriban.”
“Can everyone on this bloody planet see the future?” Morgan’s grip tightened, not liking that kind of talk in the slightest. “I don’t want to kill you.”
“But you will. I will not make it easy. No. You need worthy opponents.” The jedi seemed to realise his own madness, taking a breath. “Apologies. Prophecy can sometimes be overwhelming. I stand by my word. Prepare, Stranger.”
Three seconds. That’s how long he lasted before the jedi master had his own lightsaber to his throat. Yonlach gave it back with a shake of his head. “Come now. Again.”
Morgan stepped back, crossing more space than any one footstep should have, and the master appeared behind him. He turned, lightsaber raised to strike, only to be struck over the head by a fist. “Again.”
A detonation of Force drained his reserves, but it pushed the jedi back. Yonlack didn’t even seem phased, pressing inwards and shattering his telekinesis. Pain wracked his body as the technique snapped, a half panicked idea executed before he thought better of it. Hiding was so much harder it seemed almost impossible, but he sank beneath the soul of Tatooine as the Force flowed through him. Yonlach nodded, even though Morgan doubted he’d become translucent. “Better. Hide properly, and your opponent won’t be given warning of your attacks. Be aware, however, that some may be better at it than you.”
Instinct screamed as he was forced out, blocking the lightsaber about to cut his arm off. The jedi pressed his attack, but at least in physical prowess Morgan seemed the superior. Then his opponent seemed to blur, and the lightsaber was resting against his shoulder anyway. “Don’t rely on brute strength. Be smart. Inventive.”
Morgan struck against his mind, grinding and breaking as Yonlach took a staggering step back. Lightsaber poised, the jedi was only barely able to raise his own in defence. A groan escaped his mouth. “Well, that’ll teach me. Expecting sith to have sense and leaving the mind breaking powers to their Lords, it’s like I’m fresh off Tython. Not that it was ever my strongest discipline.”
On and on it went, that small success overshadowed by the fact nothing else worked. Minutes passed, an eternity when your death was only moments away, and then more. Ten, half an hour. Some thought was spared to Vette, how she was getting on with the knight, but every moment of inattention was punished. Not that the master ever wounded him all that deeply. But he could, and the fact he hadn’t didn’t mean he wouldn't.
But ever so slowly, after dozens of exchanges and more advice than he could incorporate, Yonlach slowed. Not terribly much, at first, but more and more as he pressed his advantage. Then, in what seemed like pity, the master's guard dropped. Morgan’s lightsaber rested against his neck, pausing despide his better judgement. “Why hold back? Why throw your life away?”
“I am a teacher, even to the end.” Yonlach shrugged, uncaring of the plasma so very close to his flesh. “I was not holding back as much as you may think, and you are a good student. Her full name is Jaesa Willsaam, and Nomen Karr will defend her with violence unmatched. End this, sith, and kill them all. Only then can we find some measure of peace in this cursed galaxy of ours.”
He pressed, and the old man died in a pool of his own blood. Morgan shook his head, confused and mad at himself for not finding a way to spare him.
Still standing there when the other three came by, and shaking himself out of his stupor, he turned to find Vette looking at him strangely. “What?”
“You killed a jedi master? Alone?”
Alyssa and Inara were looking rather beaten up, though nothing that their own skills couldn't fix, so he shrugged. “I did kill him, yes. How’d the fight with the knight go?”
“He sure beat the crap out of them, but I nailed him in the end. You don’t know his name?”
“I do not.”
Inara grunted, cradling her shoulder. “You nailed him because we held him still for you. And he still nearly dodged the shot.”
“But I got him, so the job’s all done. Lunch?”
“No.” Morgan started walking back to his speeder, Vette catching up after a second. Alyssa and Inara both hung back, either out of respect or disinterest. It allowed him to send an update to the Aurora, and Jaesa’s full name to Baras. “Not quite yet.”
“What he say to get you all introspective like that?”
“Enough. He let me kill him, or nearly so, and spent the entire fight pretending it was a spar. Nineteen kill shots, by my counting, and he didn’t take a single one. It was stupid to fight him alone.”
“But he didn’t, so everything’s good. Learn something?”
Morgan cringed at her level tone, knowing he was going to catch hell for nearly dying again. “I suppose I did. Still, I’m getting tired of people telling me my future. And yes, I appreciate the irony.”
“Good. So, that’s all we had to do here, right? I’m in need of something that isn’t a desert, and my people are getting bored of stealing from infant gangs.”
“So it seems. It still bugs me he didn’t try to hide. He could have, the fight made that clear, but he didn’t. The Aurora would have never found him, and we’d have spent the rest of the year combing the desert. If we ever found him at all, that is.”
Vette shrugged. “Maybe the knight couldn't. Didn’t want to leave his pupil behind.”
“Maybe. Seems folly to have both of them wounded instead of the one.”
“My, what big words you use.” She stuck her tongue out, sputtering when a gust of sand blew into her open mouth. Morgan grinned, relieved her anger was gone. Or at least buried. “You did that on purpose. Somehow. And don’t try to apply logic to cultists, it doesn't work.”
“Let’s not get into cults again, please.”
She perked up, taking a sip of water and spitting it out. “That reminds me. My people found something, and you’ll never guess what it is.”
“What?” He waited, seeing her expectant look. He sighed. “You’re expecting me to guess what your people found on a desert planet so old and filled with secrets it developed its own soul?”
“Yup.”
“Alyssa, is that wound going to be a problem?”
The pureblood stiffened, sharing a look with Inara. “No, my lord. I’ll get it fixed back on the ship.”
“If you pass out I’ll be displeased.” She nodded, still not willing to ask for help, and Morgan grunted. “As you will. Vette, your people found an armadillo and you want to keep it as a pet.”
He guessed as they travelled, losing interest after a few minutes. Not that she would spill, of course, insisting it was a surprise, and by the time they got back to the ship he was saying random words to keep her entertained. The shuttle brought them to the Aurora proper, the last of his people not already on the ship with them, and he listened with half an ear as Inara bothered the crew. The planet shrunk below them, the hiss of the airlock made him stand, and when the door opened Quinn was standing there. Vette stiffened, something only he and Alyssa noticed, and the man spoke as he walked out of the shuttle.
“Darth Baras has requested your presence, sir. He is pleased that your task on the planet did not take too long.”
Morgan peeled off as everyone else got to take a shower, stepping inside the room specially reserved for long distance holo calls. It was empty, of course, and Baras was already waiting there. He bowed. “My Lord.”
“You have done admirably, apprentice. Your time on Tatooine was well spent.”
“Thank you, my Lord.”
The Darth crossed his arms, a faint feeling of pressure building in the room. “My agent on the planet has not reported to me for some time. What has happened to Sharack Breev?”
“She overstepped her bounds, master.” Better not to lie, just in case. Not like Baras cared all that much about his agents, and he’d been told repeatedly that everyone was expendable if he managed to complete his mission. “And she paid the price for it.”
“Do not make it a habit to kill my people.”
That was that, the Darth moving on after Morgan bowed in agreement. “Your handling of master Yonlach has sent our enemies a clear message. You killed him yourself, yes? As inspired as orbital bombardment can be, it does not hone your skill.”
“My lightsaber took his head, master.” Did the man not know, or was he playing dumb? It was possible either way. Tatooine wasn’t the kind of place you invest much resources in, so Sharack being his only agent seemed probable. “Though the bombardment wounded him first. I would not have been able to kill him without that advantage.”
Or at all, for that matter. Still, telling the truth was important. Baras grunted. “Good. Nomen Karr and Jaesa Willsaam now know they cannot hide. It gnaws at the master and will bring his prized padawan to her knees.”
“As you say, master.”
“Every lead followed perfectly, every planet ravaged. Our adversary is growing antsy, I can feel it. Alderaan is your next destination, her home planet. She was claimed here for the jedi, though my agents say she was already a teenager when this happened. She has not been exposed to jedi ideology for life, and this makes her foundations weak. It might also have her act unpredictably, so we must know more. Go to Alderaan, locate her parents. Find everything you can about her, kill all she loves.”
“My Lord.”
Baras muttered something he couldn't quite hear, turning away. When the Darth turned back his attention lessened, the presence in the room disappearing. “With the civil war for the Alderaanian thrones raging your contact, Duke Kendoh of House Thul, has become unreliable. Kendoh was to discover more about the padawan, but he’s become distracted. Realign his priorities.”
The connection cut, leaving him alone in the room. That didn’t last long, the door opening to let Quinn and Vette inside. She didn’t look pleased, but at least she wasn’t trying to stab his captain again. “Sir. We received a recorded transmission, one claiming to belong to Jaesa Willsaam. Security caught and cleaned the message, and full operational discretion was maintained. It is queued.”
“What’s the prey doing, contacting the predator? Vette muttered, walking over to his side. Quinn went to his other, pressing the button. “Not that it was hard. We must be the only Imperial warship in the sector.”
It played, showing the form of an early twenties woman with dark hair. Her robes looked dirtied, blood covering the otherwise high quality material. “Sith. I am Jaesa Willsaam. My master, Nomen Karr, has no idea I’m sending this message. Let’s be real, we both know this isn’t about us.”
“Well, she's pretty much correct.” He shushed her, earning him an insulted glare.
“Our masters pretend otherwise, but this is personal. You and I are only pawns in their private war. And those I care about are caught in the middle. It has to stop.”
Vette snorted, moving to speak again, and licked his hand as he covered her mouth with it. Morgan ignored her.
“I appreciate directness. And as merciful as your actions have been, it’s time you stopped this passive aggressive campaign. This message includes coordinates where I’ll be waiting in my ship. Let’s discuss this face to face.”
The message ended, he freed Vette, and turned to both. “Opinions?”
“Trap.” Quinn beat Vette by about half a second, the exact same word leaving her mouth. The glare, one that would otherwise have been in good humour, looked rather murderous. “It can be nothing else, sir.”
“I agree. Record a message.”
The captain messed with the console, Vette turning to him. “What you know?”
“The room has been cleared?” Quinn nodded, muttering something about triple overlapping sweeps to catch spies. “Good. Well, it is a trap. Not from her, though, she’s sincere in her offer. Some knights, can’t remember their names, caught her. They went in her place, prepared an ambush.”
Quinn signed that the equipment was ready, Morgan clearing his throat. “Jedi. My name is Morgan. You are, leaving aside some minute details, entirely correct. Pawns, unfortunately, don’t get to make choices. Know I hold no personal grudge, that I take no pleasure in the job I’ve been assigned. Seeing as it would achieve nothing, I will have to decline your invitation. Your master would never hold to any agreement we could arrange, nor would mine. Until we meet in person, miss Willsaam.”
“Message sent, sir. Where shall I tell the captain we are going next?”
“Alderaan. Get some rest, captain. You and the men both. We’re about to step into a civil war.”
The solemn mood lasted until the door closed, Vette tugging him along. “Now that work’s done, my surprise! And you didn’t guess, so I suppose that means no fun kinky time tonight.”
“Oh no.” He grunted, slowing his step. He felt her tugging harder, but his own strength rather outclassed hers. “The humanity. If only I could, you know, suppress my libido at will.”
The door to their private rooms shut, a fist smacking him over the arm. It didn’t even sting. “You promised not to do that anymore!”
“I did no such thing.”
“You didn’t?” She shrugged, fake anger evaporating as she pointed to the chest on the table. “Go check while I decide if you’re lying.”
Morgan did, if only because it was easier to go along with it, and was half surprised when it didn’t turn out to be something horrid. Instead, the box was filled with tools. Not just axes and work knives, but utensils and hammers. Then, below that layer, were cups. Jewelry was next, along with decorations he had no idea what to call. Vette stepped up next to him, seeing his puzzled look.
“I have decided to be magnanimous and not call judgement on your maybe lie.” Meaning she couldn't remember. “And this, my dear confused lover, is Phrik. Like Beskar, the stuff is lightsaber resistant. Should be enough there to make a suit, or at least reinforce the neck, torso and other sensitive areas.”
He nodded, pleased. “Good. I supposed we’ll need to find a smith to rework the stuff? I think we still have your measurements somewhere.”
“What?” Vette snapped her fingers in front of his face, and yelped as he slapped the hand away, but the confusion made him pause. “What do you mean, my measurements?”
“For the suit? I mean, a custom fit is better in every way possible.”
“No, I get that. The stuff’s for you? You know, the one that actually gets close to lightsabers?”
“I’m the one with superhuman reflexes.” Morgan frowned, seeing her jaw set. “Alright, executive order. You’re wearing the suit.”
She sputtered. “That’s not how that works!”
“Sure it is. I’m sith.”
“No!” Vette took a breath, her eyes narrowing. Great, now both of them were being stubborn. Not that he was being stubborn, of course. Just a figure of speech. “You're the one that gets cut up by lightsabers, you're the one who wears the lightsaber resistant armour.”
“You’re the one who can’t dodge the lightsabers, so you’re the one who wears the lightsaber resistant armour.”
“This. Why are we fighting over this!” She grabbed one of the cups, shoving it at his chest as if that was supposed to do something. “What did you say again? Nineteen kill shots? I’m not watching you get cut in half!”
“And I’m not waiting for the day some sith figures out they can hurt me by hurting you!”
He took a breath, putting on his best stern face. Vette slapped the cup down. “I’m not arguing about this.”
“That’d be a first.” He couldn't stop the sarcasm, not entirely. Her nostrils flared. “Sorry. Look, I’m fast, durable and can regenerate at speeds you can’t. Having you wear this is the most logical choice.”
“I’m a sniper, for fuck sake. You’re the melee combatant.”
Morgan took another breath, looking over the chest. “Fine. How about a compromise?”
“How about we do it my way?”
He looked at her until she huffed, nodding. “Thank you. While I’m far from an expert you seem to think it's enough for a full suit, or close to it. So, you take a vest and a one handed electro staff. Something that’ll let you block a lightsaber, should it come to that.”
“That’ll take half!”
“And I will take two knives and coat most of my vital areas. If and when we get more, you finish covering everything and then I’ll take a full suit and more knives.”
“Fine!” She seemed actually upset, but for once he wasn’t going to bend to that. Her getting kidnapped had turned out well enough, in the end, but it wasn’t something he wanted repeated. Ever. A short message to Amelia had confirmed she was getting a proper guard, which did put some fears to rest, but still. “Fine. Anything else you want to act irrational on?”
He grinned, making it as smug as could be. “Not at the moment, no.”
“Good. Then you can make up for almost dying, being an ass, and lacking common sense by letting me cuddle you.”
“I suppose I can spare some time for that.
She huffed, dragging him over, and he smiled. Sometimes, every now and then, he could win an argument with her.
That was very good to know.