Jedi Temple, (11 Hours Later)
The Temple's Jedi Academy was located in the great structure's furthest northwestern quadrant, but deep in thought as I was, my progress in that direction was minimal. When I'd followed the Grandmaster from the Council chamber the previous night, I'd been anticipating a lengthy discussion concerning the assassin and whatever related circumstances were prompting the members of the Council to behave with such reticence. During his increasingly rarer visits to the Temple, Master Yoda often wished to plumb the depths of my knowledge with penetrating questions which seldom made a great deal of sense to me, but which I assumed occasionally provided context for something he'd foreseen. The previous night had very much broken that pattern, because for once, the nearly nine hundred year old had begun to seem just as tired and worn as his age suggested. I'd tried to get him to open up concerning whatever was weighing on him so heavily, but he'd merely handed me a data-pad as soon as we'd reached his quarters, then bid me have a restful night before he retired. It had been a worryingly cryptic encounter, but there had been nothing for it but to read what I've been given, and see if the data-pad's contents could make any sense of all this for me. Retreating to my own modest quarters a few minutes later, I'd done just that.
The data-pad's initial entry was the summary of an investigation concluded more than three years ago. The Chief Archivist had discovered signs of one or more individuals having broken into the restricted portion of the Archives First Hall, and reported the break-in to the Temple Security Forces. Who had, in turn, handed the matter off to the Sentinels. They were the ones who ultimately determined the identity of the thieves. Seeing that Knight Vos had played an instrumental role in the success of the investigation momentarily occupied my complete attention, but it was the results which left me frowning in consternation.
"Three Jedi Knights conspired to steal a stack of ancient documents? What could they possibly have been after?" That was the question I'd found myself preoccupied by, after my initial dismay had passed. Jedi didn't go bad often. When they did, it was generally a singular occurrence. The closest thing to a defection of this scale I could think of was Qui-Gon's second (failed) apprentice Xanatos suborning an Initiate as part of his vendetta against his former Master.
Making my way through the entry, I'd found the data-pad requesting thumb-print identification from a Knight or higher before it would open the sub-entry detailing the subject of the theft. Even more interested now, I'd quickly complied, then pored over the resulting information.
"Out of all the things they might have stolen, they make off with the journals of a guilt wracked Sith lunatic who thought melding Dark Sider philosophy with Jedi practices was the way to go? Why?" Again, I hadn't been able understand where this Anzat I finally had a name for, Nikkos Tyris, a Rodian named Ganodil Llyeen, and a Bothan Knight named Feyar Dun'la had initially come by the idea to break into the restricted documents. Let alone comprehend their choice to throw away everything they'd worked so hard for to make off with some propaganda written by a Sith apologist from the time of Exar Kun. It didn't make any sense, but there wasn't anything else. Just the notation that Knight Vos's psychometry had proven invaluable in uncovering the identities of the thieves.
There was another page and a half of follow-up reports by the Sentinels who'd been charged with learning everything they could concerning the theft. These made it clear their efforts to determine the thieves present whereabouts had failed, and that all other avenues of inquiry had been exhausted. I'd noted this final notation was itself more than two years old, then moved deeper into the contents of the data-pad.
The next entry was a summation of a report forwarded from the Corellian Enclave to the High Council. It was a little more than fourteen months old, which was only two months prior to the assassination of Senator Greyshade. The biometric profile of a human male (whose identity had been ruthlessly redacted from the summation) had been detected aboard a commercial space-station in orbit around Selonia. Obeying a security system prerogative, an automated message had been dispatched to the Corellian Enclave before the computer notified station security.
Learning this mystery man's mere presence necessitated informing the nearest Jedi in such a way that organic personnel couldn't by accident or intention prevent said warning? No amount of redacted information was going to make that sound like anything except a known Dark Side adept on some kind of watch-list.
"Unfortunately, the what is a great deal easier to make out than the who. I don't see where the Greens or the High Council could have gotten Maul's biometric profile, but it's obviously not the Ex-Chancellor or the present Executive Officer of the C.I.S. This all happened months before the Ghost Prison breakout, so..." I'd mentally trailed off. No possibilities concerning Mr. X's identity coming to mind even with the aid of Force-assisted recall. Once again, I'd been left scrolling to the next entry with more questions raised than meaningful information conveyed.
The subsequent entry had proven the least creatively edited so far. It had described the Greens response, their missing the target individual's departure from the Selonian station by less than an hour, and their subsequent effort to determine where he'd gone. I'd been struck by how quickly they'd turned up the itinerary of the YT-1300 Mr. X had left aboard, and even more impressed by their organizing a mission to get ahead of the suspected smuggler who owned the vessel to reacquire their target. Reading on, I'd been shocked to see their guess that the smuggler who owned the freighter meant the Mon Gazza shadowport when his itinerary had listed the Herdessa System had actually paid off.
One of the six Corellian Jedi (Four Masters and two Knights) had not only located the YT-1300 within the busiest and most infamous shadowport anywhere in the galactic southeast, they'd managed to attach a magnetic-clamp FTL beacon to the hull of the vessel with no one apparently the wiser. It would have been easy to miss the most significant detail mixed in with this incredibly improbable account of a successful fugitive pursuit, but to me it stuck out like a Wookie at a gathering of the Order of the Canted Circle.
A half-dozen Jedi, for a single man. In another time, Mace Windu had believed three Jedi Masters sufficient backup to beard a Sith Lord in his den. This one tidbit in a pile of piecemeal fragments prompted me to remove Maul from my thinking as a possibility. Six was too few to guarantee his apprehension with zero casualties, yet too many not to get in each other's way, if his elimination was the desired outcome.
The next entry was a straightforward rundown of the Jedi team's surreptitious pursuit of their quarry. It had brought me to the next baffling factoid in what I'd read. The Suarbi System in the Quence Sector was very nearly as far as it was possible to travel through the galactic southeast before you reached Wild Space. Having followed the unnamed fugitive all the way to Susevfi, the only inhabited planet in the system, it had struck me just how flagrantly the Greens were exceeding their mandate. It was all so maddeningly mysterious, because without knowing who it was they were chasing, and therefore why the Greens were chasing him, I really hadn't been able to conclude how reasonable any of this was.
Which, once again, had left me scrolling onward in the fading hope there were actual answers somewhere in this hodgepodge of suggestively mismatched puzzle-pieces.
I'd very nearly hurled the data-pad at the wall of my room when I realized the final entry was so edited for content, it was difficult to make any meaningful determination whatsoever concerning the events touched on. Nothing except the casualty report listing two dead Greens, a Coruscanti Jedi Shadow who'd lost both legs in whatever fight had occurred on Susevfi (No mention of how or when they'd met up with the Corellians), and "numerous fatalities and serious injuries among the cultists."
That was it, and the only reason I'd had any idea "cultists" equaled Tyris and his cronies was the context from my conversation with Master Yoda. I was, once again, being treated like a mushroom by my superiors, and it was an understatement of mythic proportions to say I was less than best-pleased by this development.
Finally, after considering what I already knew in light of these new bits of information, I'd tentatively come to the conclusion there had been a veritable bloodbath on the planet. I'd thought it likely the Corellians, plus whatever reinforcements the Order had provided, had planned the apprehension of the mystery fugitive. Only to somehow blunder in among Tyris, Ganodil, Feyar, and what could be inferred to be a large, well-armed body of their supporters.
"Yoda said Tyris wants revenge against the Order and the Republic. That sounds like a personal grudge in action, and this encounter seems to be the only contact which his group had with the Jedi since their defection. Non-Sith Force-Sensitives who fall generally possess core drives centered upon one or more negative emotions they find it impossible to control. Meaning Tyris lost something, or was denied something, by the Jedi he encountered." I'd thought my reasoning sound even after meditating upon it, and that was when I'd made the critical connection.
"Numerous fatalities and serious injuries among the cultists" I'd murmured to myself. Remembering Tyris had been enjoying his first year free of all the rules and regimentation he'd lived under his entire life. It was tragic, the idea of a Dark Sider falling in love, when nothing had awaited their partner but pain and eventual death anyways.
It was a working theory, anyways, but the fact I'd had to piece it together from fragments and my own conjectures had certainly done nothing for my temper. This was just one more example of my superiors electing not to trust me. Even Master Yoda, who was generally supportive and nonjudgmental, didn't think I should be entrusted with the entire picture. He'd given me just enough I could use my own talents to work out approximately what sort of threat Tyris posed to my Senatorial charge, then sent me packing.
Frustrated more than I'd been able to put into words, I finally stopped my woolgathering, and picked up my pace in the direction of the Jedi Academy.
-------
Saleucami, Beneath Taleucema (Same Time/Date)
Most sentient beings would have found the huge caverns beneath the capitol city unbearably hot due to the geothermal vents, but the heat didn't touch the tall, lithe, golden-skinned Zabrak woman as she glided between two of the many long rows of opaquely misted cylinders. The strong "wind" created by the meeting of subterranean heat and the far colder surface air made the elaborate gold rings in her tight ebon braids clink together softly as she moved, but she paid the sound no mind as she neared her goal.
The center of the vast chamber hollowed out beneath the city still sleeping one of the planet's sweltering summer days away was filled with bank after bank of computers and other complicated machinery, but the woman's dark eyes were intent upon only one screen as she came to a stop before the row of displays. Endless lines of code and text streamed upward across every screen in eye-catching synchrony, yet the silent observer had long since learned the readouts were as unintelligible gibberish to one with her background. Ignoring the dozen screens to either sign of her reason for being here, she studied the one screen not filled with marching characters. Twelve identical symbols in three rows of four, and all of them as green as they had been during each of her daily visits for the last six months.
Many individuals with as many decades of exacting training as years of invaluable experience in the field would have considered such a simple task beneath them. For every one of her one hundred and eighty-two days upon this planet, the sum of half her duty had been this single daily visit to the chamber to check the all's-well signal being sent by the computer was not being transmitted in error. The other half of that duty was simply to maintain a discreet watch upon the building which acted as a surface-level concealment for the elevator which ran downward to this great chamber. Owned by a holding corporation none of the natives had ever heard of, it was kept locked at all times, and the right bribes were paid to ensure it remained ignored. Based on what the woman had seen to date, the building likely did not require such a constant vigil, but hers was not to question, only obey.
Her Lord had told her this duty hastened the day the people of the galaxy would finally have the order and justice they deserved. That was all she needed to know, because she finally served a cause worth believing in.
Her duty done for another day, the woman was about to turn and begin making her way back to the lift, when the holo-comm beside the screen she monitored suddenly came to life. The blue-white holographic representation was only fifteen centimeters high, but the endlessly patient monitor was already dropping to one knee before the image of the cloaked and hooded figure. Head bowed, she said simply "My Lord honors me with his attention."
"Rise, my faithful Sey" The hooded figure rumbled. Though it obscured much of his face with the hood drawn as low as it was, the rest of the black cloak did nothing to hide the broad shoulders and powerful frame of the speaker. Watching impassively as his servant rose easily, the cloaked watcher continued in a deep voice containing a hint of a natural growl "I trust that all is proceeding as it should there?"
She had not been explicitly instructed to keep a watch upon the others about her Lord's work on Saleucami, but her master did not tolerate fools among his Acolytes. "Everything is progressing as you have willed it, my Lord. Your apprentice ensconced the last of the Anzat, contractors, in the desert facility without attracting unwanted attention. The diagnostic indicates the first five hundred subjects belonging to the Field Test Batch are on-track to be decanted in two weeks. Bok, is, well, Bok. His hatred and desire for revenge remain as strong and vital as his heartbeat. He will serve, when the time comes."
Sey hesitated, then in a low tone that was almost a plea "I mean no disrespect, Lord Ximshak, but I do not see how an apprentice who continues to fail remains worthy of her position. I have not failed you, and would not, if only you.." She would have said more, but a single word silenced her.
"No," On the surface, it was a simple negation, but there was a steely undercurrent which gave the word the force of a command.
Dropping her eyes submissively once more, the firmly muscled Zabrak replied in a downcast tone "Where my Lord leads, this Acolyte will follow."
"I can feel the anger which burns in you, my faithful one. You have made great strides in harnessing it to increase your focus and drive. It gives you strength you could have only dreamed of in your old life. Which makes it all the more disappointing that you still shy and draw away from your rage when it grows too hot for your comfort. Treating it as something to be chained and locked away, rather than a powerful beast to harness, so it may work to do your will. Whatever her other faults, my apprentice has proven herself the mistress of her fury, as you have yet to do."
Thin lips quirking into a briefest, smallest of smiles, the Weequay Sith studied his Acolyte's subtle reaction to his words, saw the way she alternately stoked and focused her rage until it was transmuted into a raging blizzard of icy fury she fought and incrementally succeeded in guiding as she would, then inclined his head ever so slightly. "Better. Continue to serve me, to serve our cause, my faithful one. Break the chains of the life you've rejected. My willingness to indulge failure with simple chastisement is not infinite, after all, and the first shots in the war which will burn away the corruption of the Core are imminent. There will be opportunity aplenty for all my Acolytes to rise, or fall, as their quality dictates in the coming conflict."
Once more smiling a smile that never touched eyes which were little more than a suggestion beneath the hood's shadow, the hologram vanished without another word. Leaving the woman to stand alone in the dark, just above the fires of the underworld, with countless figures twitching restlessly in the cylinders surrounding her like lost souls.
---------
Taking up the entire northwestern quadrant of the Temple, the Jedi Academy was abuzz with activity at this time of day. Walking through one of the six main hallways of the Academy in the direction of the largest cluster of classrooms used to teach the more academic subjects like political science and galactic history, I saw knots of Initiates who were similar in age being gracefully, or not so gracefully herded by instructors who were managing with various degrees of success to keep their charges moving in the direction of the refectory. It took some doing on my part to resist smiling in amusement at the harried air possessed by a few of the youngest instructors I passed, because maintaining perfect equanimity in the face of a couple dozen hungry kids truly was a test worthy of being part of the Trials.
Not that my visit to the Academy was a matter of idle whim. When I'd spoken with Qui Gon a little after sunup, he'd made a point of telling me he had urgent business off-world which required his attention. Once I'd told him what was delaying my taking immediate responsibility for the Senator's safety, he'd allowed that a few more hours wouldn't be a problem. I hadn't been comforted in the least by the arch amusement in the older man's voice, as he'd conceded "Take what time you need, Anakin. I'm merely fending off a ruthless and bloodthirsty Dark Jedi. Almost a vacation, when compared to the daunting duty you've laid out for yourself."
It took a bit of effort to take the ribbing with good humor. The sheer "It's not taking all of my considerable will to avoid laughing, honest" in the Jedi Master's voice after he'd detected the nervousness I was trying and failing to keep out of my own confirmed my suspicions that the man was an expert in taking his amusements where he found them. I couldn't even imagine keeping my cool night and day through ten years of "Master, you really shouldn't show such disrespect to the High Council" and "Master, think of the Code! A Jedi should be above such things!"
Getting eyeballed by each group of Initiates I passed on their way to lunch, I listened to a solid half of them break into hushed whispers the very instant they (wrongly) thought they were far enough away I wouldn't hear them. The experience reminding me in short order why I generally avoided this portion of the Temple.
"It never ceases to amaze me. This place houses a legion of individuals who regularly take on missions you could write epic sagas about, yet speculation about a prophecy no one understands is what stays on everyone's minds" I'd found myself thinking a bit testily, as I homed in on the individual I'd come to see.
Walking in the middle of the second-to-last group of Initiates, my target was coming toward me with the dark haired young woman who was one of the three I'd seen in my most recent vision beside her. Noticing me at almost the same moment I'd spotted her, the fifteen year old Togruta looked momentarily unsettled as our eyes met. Still, I wanted to smile when I saw how fast curiosity replaced anxiety as I drew closer.
Stopping with my back to the wall on the corridor's left side, I smiled in response to the curious looks being shot my way by the members of Clawmouse Clan as they passed by. It wasn't until the tall, older, silver-haired Jedi Master who was bringing up the rear drew even with me that I bowed deeply with my hands clasped in front of me. The gesture brought the venerable Jedi to a halt beside me, a fond smile that was almost paternal creasing his face as he glanced from me to his charges, then back to me, before he remarked in a voice filled with a quiet sort of strength "I suppose it is getting on toward that time for several of my young ones."
I was surprised to see my answering nod only caused the smile on that creased, well-weathered face to grow broader. I'd been anticipating a much more frosty reception from the venerable Instructor of Clawmouse Clan, because Master Honoran's devotion to his charges was only exceeded by a more general regard for the Order's younglings as a whole. A well-regarded Jedi Master for twice as long as I'd lived in this galaxy, Wren Honoran was the kind of man who'd "retired" from an active service filled with honor and distinction, only to turn around and begin a second career which had made him one of the most respected educators in the Temple's Academy. Ever since I'd gotten serious about asking Ahsoka to become my apprentice, it had seemed a foregone conclusion there would be at least some resistance from her primary Instructor. After all, from Master Honoran's perspective, it must seem like I'd been Knighted five minutes ago.
Now, my assumptions were being turned on their ear by the warm, knowing twinkle dancing in blue-green eyes that still shone brightly from features as deeply lined as they were weathered. Briefly, I considered admitting my misapprehension, but a subtle shake of his head had me wondering a moment later if the old Jedi Master was a mind-reader. Before I could settle on something to say, the gray-haired Jedi took the liberty of moving things along.
"The hungriest of minds cannot be taught over the din of growling bellies, Knight Skywalker, so I must ask you to name the Clawmouse you've come to see without further delay. The midday meal waits for no one, after all." Master Honoran's observation elicited titters of laughter from many of the Initiates of Clawmouse Clan, but it was the fact that none of them seemed concerned about bursting into laughter in front of their Instructor which told me a great many good things about the way the elderly Jedi ran "his" Clan.
Finding myself smiling at the moment of levity, I recognized most of my own nervousness about this encounter had dissolved. The realization made me wonder for a moment if that hadn't been one of the Jedi Master's aims, as I replied "With your permission, Master Honoran, I would like to have a few words in private with Initiate Tano."
Ahsoka's had been sharing a meaningful look with her friend Bene, but the sound of her name caused her head to whip in my direction. The flash of surprise I sensed from her was to be expected, but I had to suppress a frown when I felt the uneasy anxiety rise in her. Flashing a look of consternation, and something else gone too fast for me to place at her friend, I saw Bene give a diffident sort of shrug, then nod her head in my direction. Honoran was already nodding and moving the rest of the Clan along, so in very short order it was just the two of us in the expansive main thoroughfare.
Looking down the hallway in the direction the group of Initiates had come from, I spotted a (silent) classroom with an open door on the right side of the corridor perhaps twenty paces further on, then gestured toward it with one hand. Making something of an informal "After you" gesture that the lithe young woman started for after a moment's hesitation. She was three or four paces ahead of me when I saw her head begin to turn as if she were going to glance back over my shoulder to see if I was following, but there was a moment of real resolve as she pointedly denied the impulse and continued on into the classroom.
I, meanwhile, was wondering with some concern how things had changed so much that someone who'd been enthused in another time and place to be "my" apprentice now seemed almost scared of me.
A/N: Sorry the new Chapter took so long all. I'd intended to go further with it, but realized the 18-day Necro thing had kicked in. Meaning I just wanted to get the significant block I had done up. Been pretty unwell the last several days, so the writing kind of suffered with my just falling into bed whenever possible.