"Focus," the mentor's voice came. "You're letting yourself go too much. Pyrokinesis is a neutral technique, yes, but fire itself is an aggressive element, so it can, in part, draw on negative emotions. Remember: there is no emotion, there is peace," Lorm Decer said importantly. "Pyrokinesis is better than Force Lightning, if only because it doesn't require perfect emotional control when used by Jedi. Still — don't forget about control if you want me to consider you worthy of learning Force Lightning."
"I'm trying," I snapped back slightly, suppressing a weak flash of anger and directing my attention to the ordinary torch lying in front of me. Hyperpsace transitions had to be used wisely. We used them for Force training. We preferred to practice fencing outside my ship — even a relatively large warehouse wasn't a solution. For fencing, we usually stopped on planets. Jumping straight to Chandrila was impossible. It was in the Core Worlds, in the East of the Galaxy. We were in the exact opposite place — the Unknown Regions, in the West. First, we jumped to the planet Bakura. This planet featured quite prominently in the True Canon. Take, for example, the battle with the Ssi-Ruuk — they managed to repel it on their own, and afterward even built their own model of Star Destroyer — a ship class that still doesn't exist today. After that, heading west across the Galaxy, we moved on to Kinyen, a planet located on the Corellian Trade Route. By the way, before that we had made a stop at Endor, where we held a fencing training session.
"And I can see it," the mentor nodded. "There's progress. But it's not enough. Should you be angry with yourself for that?" he asked me. "Anger will quickly lead you to a fall."
"You sound just like Master Yoda, mentor," I smirked, peering at the sparks that had appeared on the torch. "So full of wisdom and intelligence."
"Oh yes," Lorm Decer grinned wryly. "Quite the contrast, right? Most of the time, garbage comes out of my mouth. I present myself to other sentients as a hardened cynic, a womanizer… In the eyes of many, including some dogmatists from the Order," he hissed, and I remembered how at our briefing, some of the Councilors had looked at Lorm with disdain. "I'm a mistake of a Jedi. Thame Cerulian, my Master, was born on Corellia — they always interpreted the rules their own way… But even his warnings and remarks couldn't prepare the enthusiastic boy Lorm Decer for what awaited him in this hellish place. Thame was an explorer, and after a few briefings, he rushed off with me into the Unknown Regions. You're going through the same thing now. I took flight too, and I dreamed too," he said unexpectedly. "Of beautiful and noble princesses, of battles with great villains. After all, even explorers face all of that — especially explorers… But," Lorm's voice carried a note of bitterness, "most princesses are just whores driven by their ambitions, and not everyone they call a 'villain' turns out to be one. Look at what the Galaxy has turned me into… I, a Jedi, sworn to protect sentients — I kill them more often than I protect them. I threaten their loved ones with death, and on top of that — I demand that you follow the Code, when I break it myself quite often. I swear like the lowest scum, the kind I could cut to ribbons. The only things that set me apart are the Force, my rank, and a lightsaber. The Council is one hundred percent right. There's less than half a percent of a Jedi left in me. And at the same time — I selfishly desire the prosperity of the Order… What am I, if not a hypocrite, apprentice?"
"You are my mentor," I said, feeling a connection to this sentient after such a confession… He was nothing more than a victim. A victim of his own dreams and desires, which had turned against him and made him not a shining Jedi Knight, but someone he himself, deep down, hated. "And that entire part of your personality, as vile as it may be, still teaches me something. And even if I don't want to become like you, maybe that part will teach me something too."
"Hmph," Lorm grunted. "True. Just as your naivety and innocence might bring back a little of the Lorm I buried long ago — something of him… Alright, that's enough for today. Go get some rest. I have a lot to think about… I have a bad feeling — something's going to happen soon. Be ready for anything, Light."
"Always ready," I nodded seriously. "I have ways to meet an enemy, and I will keep improving."
"That's what I wanted to hear," the mentor placed a hand on my shoulder. "You're free for now." He turned away almost too abruptly, and I left the warehouse where we'd been training. I headed to my room…
My fencing abilities were growing. Lorm gave me a thrashing every time he drew his blade. If at first I was proud of my victory over him, then later, after getting my ass kicked many times, I understood a couple of things… You should feel proud when provoking an opponent using Dun Moch — it adds atmosphere. Second — between duels, you have to train… No, that's not right. You have to TRAIN. No matter what anyone said, and no matter what I thought — Lorm turned out to be an incredibly demanding teacher. He literally took on my training, deciding to teach me "everything he knew." And that's what he did. He drilled me in fencing, taught me to fight against Force-users, and used training droids to practice blaster deflection. In short, I didn't slack off.
During flights, he taught me the Force. He divided Force techniques, besides the light/dark category, into simple and higher ones. He considered the basics studied in the Order as simple ones: telekinesis, simple meditation, basic healing, some form of Crucitorn — they studied that too — sensory perception, amplification, and Tutaminis. This foundation had to BE DEVELOPED. The higher techniques could only be passed on by a Knight-mentor, someone like him. Things I hadn't learned as a Youngling. For example — he was, after all, teaching me the particularities of the Matukai. Of course, the amplification technique he described to me turned out to be horribly truncated. Only the barest minimum was described… But on the other hand, Lorm understood perfectly well that "that Matukai with the cunning smile and favorite words like 'so' and 'well'" definitely wouldn't give him the full manual, and even he himself had given the Matukai little information on the simple Jedi meditation he wanted to learn. In the end, Lorm pieced together some things from whatever little base he had from the Matukai and taught them to me. I could already see some areas for improvement myself. Plus, he said he'd help me master: pyrokinesis, flame control and manipulation, Force Lightning, Force Flash — a special technique that creates interference in tracking electronics, and Force Blinding — an analogue of the previous technique, but for striking at sentients.
I, in turn, wasn't idle either and trained one of the varieties of Force Sensory Perception. I had always been excellent at precognition — that's why I was one of the best at fencing. Even having chosen a defensive style initially… Now I was pondering a completely different question. A huge warrior in beskar armor stood before my mind's eye. Teyron Jarps and his employer had become the subject of analysis for Lorm and me. Naturally, we informed the Order about the existence of the tandem: a Dark-side Force-user from Dathomir, a strong Mandalorian, and their strange boss. The High Council, without much deliberation, decreed: the teacher and the student — that is, us — should search for the Sith artifact. And to do that, we should find Mila from Chandrila, the younger sister of the smuggler Joyran. And as for Shilazh and Teyron — the Jedi Shadows would handle them, since this tandem had crawled out of its hole.
So what was I thinking about when I pictured this seemingly invulnerable Mandalorian with a huge arsenal of weapons, a beskar spear, and projectile weaponry — which isn't very pleasant to face as a Jedi? About ideal defense? Soresu is my defense, but in a confrontation with projectile weapons, it could play a nasty trick on me. A bullet wouldn't melt completely, and its remnants could, obeying inertia, fly into me. Not the most pleasant experience, one we thought we'd counter by flying to the Temple on Coruscant and requesting reinforced clothing. In the case of Shilazh — the best defense is defense. She's a Force-user with many tricks up her sleeve; it's unlikely that if I charged her in Ataru style, I could win without being wounded. So in a confrontation with the Witch, I would have to use Soresu. As for Teyron, the fight there would have to be ended as quickly as possible. All his possible tricks were known. I could only dodge his bullets — ideal for Ataru. But how to penetrate beskar armor? A lightsaber doesn't cut this metal. And then an idea struck me… Cade Skywalker, Mace Windu… Shatterpoint! The talent to find weak points through the Force was a rare gift, allowing one to discover weaknesses in everything — material objects, people, events, organizations, and so on. A talent… Alas, to master it at full strength, like Mace Windu or Cade, requires a specific predisposition. My predisposition is slightly different — in Force Precognition in the middle of a fight. I definitely couldn't master Shatterpoint at the level of Mace Windu or Cade, who used it to see the roots of Darth Krayt's disease and immediately determined it was incurable. Figuratively speaking.
But that didn't mean I couldn't master at least part of that skill! Seeing a weak spot in beskar armor meant seeing a chance for victory. And from there, I wouldn't have to fear Teyron… On the other hand — Jedi from the "grave service," so to speak — the Shadows — had been sent after him. Shadows are operatives most specialized in killing sentients. Not Guardians, but Shadows, who have everything needed for killing. And any Jedi Shadow, at the current moment, could kill me. And Shatterpoint wouldn't put me on their level, unfortunately… Though it would raise my chances. So once again, I divided my time… Part of the time we spent on the techniques Lorm was teaching me. And part of the time I devoted specifically to Shatterpoint. Another problem was that it's not enough to meditate, running the description of this technique through your head. I could see the points… But the problem was layering. Mastering the point was one thing — fine, I saw it, now what? The problem was that experienced fighters make decisions in fractions of a second, and you can't always hit it exactly. Any misalignment and I'd end up in a vulnerable position myself.
So I had to learn to use Shatterpoint together with precognition, which added problems in the form of an almost frantic level of concentration. And it was turning out, distinctly turning out, that in combination: either I use Ataru with precognition, Force amplification, and attack as I had planned the fight against Teyron. Or… Or… I use Soresu, staying in place and concentrating to the maximum. Shatterpoint works with precognition and Force amplification… Unfortunately, while I'm focusing on Ataru movement, I can't adequately apply the point to a mobile style. A vicious circle… I could, of course, first engage defense, examine where Teyron's vulnerability is, and then abruptly switch to an offensive style. Abrupt, like a kick in the groin, and hard, like a hammer blow. That's exactly how unpleasant it would be for any sentient when a Jedi who seemed to be standing still, exclusively defending, instantly closes the distance and starts delivering blows — quite fast and ruthless. But such a style change, especially in a heated fight — and that's exactly what it would be if we clashed with that pair — would exhaust me too much. And Teyron would be my opponent; Shilazh, in case of a fight, would fall to the mentor. He'd finish her off quickly — Lorm Decer is far too strong. He even told me about how to break free from that spell she used to immobilize the Gornum. The point is that Witches focus too much on it, and you just need to throw her off balance. Telekinesis, lightning, a fireball, or a lightsaber — and that's it; nothing would come of it for her.
Why am I preparing, together with my teacher, for a confrontation with them at all? We have a shared interest, and even if Shadows have been sent after them, it's not a fact that we won't run into those two. So we'd better be ready… And I'd better stop feeling sorry for myself and my pessimistic mood and be ready to fight them.
* * *
Emerging at Kinyen, we entered the Corellian Trade Route, which led us toward Coruscant. We decided to land on the planet itself to replenish fuel, food, and the arsenal. I had to use two missiles to destroy a small pirate vessel at the previous hyperspace exit point. It blew up nicely — thirty sentients got caught in the blast immediately… And it turned out to be a decent Shatterpoint training session… By the way, the mentor noticed I was training alone. When he found out what I was training and why, he simply praised my diligence and joined the training himself. Lorm hadn't used Shatterpoint and decided to master it. A bit late, admittedly, but that's how it was.
The spaceport on the planet belonging to the Gran race was quite large and bustling, which contrasted sharply with the planet's picturesque nature. We weren't here to sightsee, though. While our ship was being resupplied, I decided to pay from my own pocket — luckily, two million credits had accumulated for me from the patent over this time, thanks to Dad. And while they were replenishing our munitions and inspecting the ship for malfunctions, Master and I slipped out of the capital city into a park, where, away from civilization, we staged a real Force-user battle with everything we had: all techniques allowed. The fight lasted about five minutes, but during that time, the teacher even used Force Lightning against me — fortunately, its Jedi variant. I responded with Tutaminis; I wasn't about to take it on a training saber that simply wasn't designed for that kind of energy. After that, I launched into an attack, using Ataru against him… But this time the mentor didn't particularly fool around with me. The battle ended with a fireball of pyrokinesis that he hurled at my feet… I dodged, but the teacher closed in and knocked the saber out of my hand… Not before I managed to hit him a couple of times with my lightsaber, leave a scratch on his nose — a symbolic one — and even drag him about ten meters with telekinesis into the nearest tree. All in all, it was an impressive skirmish…
This only prepared me for what awaited me in the Temple. Traveling along one of the Republic's main hyperlanes is relatively safe. Relatively compared to the Unknown Regions, where even scavengers might play at being pirates. After that, we left the Corellian Trade Route and took simply the Corellian Run. Yes, that exists too… Corellia is a trade hub and one of the wealthiest worlds in the Galaxy. We didn't land there, just set course for Coruscant. And at the Temple… The ship emerged from hyperspace and was immediately contacted by Coruscant Control, inquiring about the purpose of our visit. A standard procedure, all in all… Upon learning that we were Jedi, heading home to the Temple, we were patched through to Temple Control. Which guided us into the Temple Hangar… The ship landed smoothly, and Temple technicians immediately rushed to inspect it, refuel it, restock the arsenal, and so on.
In the Temple itself, we were only supposed to rest before traveling along the Perlemian Trade Route to Chandrila. The mentor went to sleep. According to the intelligence we'd gathered: Mila Karnur, Joyran Karnur's younger sister, had hired on as a mechanic on a ship. What ship — wasn't mentioned; apparently, the captain wasn't much better than Mila's older brother — that is, he'd decided to follow the path of a smuggler. The officer who had registered the ship was fired from service two months ago for professional incompetence. And no one knew where the ship with Joyran's sister could have gone — there were no records of it thanks to that officer… They were too lenient with him — they didn't even put him in prison. Mila is important. Shilazh and Teyron are hunting for her, because the sister definitely knows her brother's habits and where he might hide. That's why the teacher and I chose to find the girl first.
"Light!" a voice rang out, making me flinch from the sudden noise. I was walking down a corridor near the cafeteria. Many Jedi were moving along it. Knights walked with dignity and importance, some conversing, some typing messages on datapads. You could also find Padawans with braids in the corridor. Mostly they clustered in groups according to their clans, discussing the Knights… And Younglings, who almost always walked in groups. As for the voice… Turning around, I saw him. Huge — a full two heads taller than me — a man dressed in light clothing, like me. Long, black hair fell to his shoulders. His muscular physique must have attracted girls… My height was roughly one hundred seventy centimeters and would most likely stay that way forever… Cin Drallig, on the other hand, had grown even more.
Dangling from Drallig's hair was a Padawan braid. He had been taken as a Padawan by Roan Lancestfield, the Order's Battlemaster.
"Cin," I greeted my former clan-mate, giving a brief nod to the Jedi who had turned their attention to us because of Cin's booming voice, indicating they should go about their business. "It really has been a long time. Two years?"
"That's right," he said. "So you've come back to the Temple?"
"A brief stop," I explained. "We'll rest a bit and then rush off on our assignment. And you?" I asked him. "How are things?"
"Oh," Cin sighed, "everything's fine. Except for the mentor. I dreamed of having a mentor like that, but what did I get in the end? I'm stuck in the Temple, because Knight Roan, as you rightly remember, is an instructor for Younglings."
"Well, of course — he's a master of all styles except the seventh. So what's there to be surprised about, Cin?" I asked him.
"What? At least you… Everyone else, even Rele, is out in the Galaxy doing missions, and I'm stuck in the Temple studying styles… I'm sick of it."
"Cin Drallig is sick of fencing?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "I'd sooner believe that a talking raccoon with a big rocket launcher is saving the Galaxy with his plant friend, fighting the most terrible threats."
"Funny, is it?" Cin snapped. "Come on, let's fight, since you're here. Two years have passed since the Tournament; now I'll definitely beat the shit out of you!"
"Watch your language," a slap to the back of his head came from behind. Knight Roan Lancestfield himself had reined in his student. Younglings crowded behind him.
"Mentor!" Cin exclaimed in surprise. "But how did you—"
"See, children, why you must study sensory perception," Roan said importantly. "Look at Light," he pointed at me. "He examines every detail, probes the space with the Force. That's what a Jedi does. To protect sentients, you must always be ready to protect them not just with words, but with deeds. Do you all understand?" he asked the Younglings.
"Yes, Master Roan," the children answered in unison, looking to me to be about seven or eight years old.
"Good," he nodded importantly. "I'm glad to see you alive, Light Flyingstar," he addressed me. "I remember you as small as they are, but look at you now! You've matured — that confidence. You've grown stronger. Alright, children. You know about my Padawan, and I'll tell you that Light was no less talented than him — he surpassed him, and that's not boasting — even at graduation, he was only a little behind a weak Jedi Knight in ability. And now… You just need to resolve a couple of problems, and Lorm will happily recommend you for the Trials. Do you want to see how almost-Jedi-Knights fight? Cin here is also no less capable than a Knight."
"Two such monsters?" one of the boys sighed heavily. "The Force, why?"
"Oh, shut up, Lud," the boy was rebuked. "This is so exciting."
"Knight Roan," I called out to him. "No refusals accepted?" I asked.
"No," Roan shook his head definitively. "Let's go, to the training hall."
And it turned out to be far more crowded than I would have liked. Along the way, Roan gathered a couple more groups of Younglings. And I ask you — isn't it too much honor for us Padawans, considering that all the Younglings were being shown a fight between two Knights? Cin was beaming with happiness… Did he really want to fight me this badly?
"The rules are simple. Everything you know is allowed," Roan said. "Fight!"
We activated our training lightsabers. White blades ready to sting their opponents… I settled into the classic Soresu stance.
"Nothing changes, Light," Cin smiled, launching into an attack in the Djem So style. His furious assaults immediately began to push me back… But I deflected every single one of his attacks to the side.
Dodging sideways from another attack, I counterattacked him in the side, but he managed to react and block the blow. I jumped back, but Cin pursued me… We moved at incredible speed. It was obvious how much stronger and faster he had become. But I wasn't born yesterday either… In all that time, I had learned to fight at a completely different level compared to what I had shown at the Tournament. As soon as Cin got close, he was flung back. I kicked him in the chest, putting the Force into the blow. Cin landed on his feet, twisting in midair, and froze in surprise — I rarely used punches or kicks in a pure lightsaber duel. Even back in the Temple, I had started moving away from that concept to avoid putting my limbs at risk… But the jungle planet where I had spent a year completely changed my perspective. Your whole body is a weapon, not just the Force and the lightsaber.
Smiling, I immediately closed the distance to Cin, switching to Ataru, against which he had now switched to Soresu… Cin Drallig using Soresu? He knew it decently, but not like I did. It wasn't difficult for me to find gaps in his Soresu defense, which was far inferior to mine — a defense that could hold its own against real Knights, not just Younglings and Padawans. After receiving a couple of lightsaber hits, Cin wasn't about to give up; he made an instant style switch and began answering me in Ataru style… Which completely removed any speed restrictions. But even then he was losing to me, if only because he, like Qui-Gon, has a weak predisposition to that style. Smaller, more agile and nimble, I danced around him, delivering wide, slashing blows, completely breaking his battle rhythm. But this was what he had wanted from the very beginning! He grabbed my arm and, judging by the movement, intended to stop me that way and deliver a lightsaber strike. Not the most convenient strike, either for delivering or for the one receiving it. Ouch! He also stepped on my foot. Apparently, this was his planned combination… But he had grabbed the bare part of my arm — I had taken off my wrist comm… Damn, it would have given me more maneuverability options, but forget it. I simply heated my left hand using pyrokinesis. I could only conjure flame with concentration, but I could heat a part of my body — without damaging myself, but with damage to whoever was grabbing that part — quite effectively.
"Ow," Cin yanked his hand back, his attack completely failing. Meanwhile, my counterattack — a quick, slashing Ataru blow — "took Cin's head off." "What was that?" Cin asked, rubbing his neck where the blow had landed. "Your hand was like…"
"Pyrokinesis," I replied calmly. "My mentor taught me."
"Good to see," Roan approached us, "that you didn't give up. Remember an important lesson! As long as you're alive, you can fight. Cin caught Light and was about to strike, but Light won because he didn't give up and found a way out. Every trick — even the most seemingly insignificant — can and should be used in battle. Where was that wrist comm of yours, by the way?" he asked me. "I remember you made it before graduation."
"I left it in my room," I confessed.
"WHAT?!" it seemed he was heard throughout the Temple. Ah, younglinghood, that magical time under the jurisdiction of Roan Lancestfield. "What insolence! Fifty laps around the hall, run! Every little detail is a chance to win — that's what I taught you, Light. But you, apparently, won't understand until you get burned! Naive boy," and it was true — a mistake! Leaving such an instrument in the room… What could happen to me in the Temple? A foolish assumption — anything could happen!
"I agree, Knight Roan. But I'm no longer your student…"
"Oh," Roan seemed surprised at something. "Well, well… But… ONE HUNDRED LAPS," he replied, hitting me on the head with his fist. "Remember this, all of you. You could become Grand Masters or whatever. But that doesn't mean you stop being my students. All of you! And you, Light — you'll run," Roan said in a voice that brooked no argument. "Or — a duel with me. Same terms as with Cin, since you're so smart."
A duel with him? No, there's no way I'd survive that.
"One hundred it is," I muttered, heading for the wall of the hall.
"And you, children — thirty laps," he swept his gaze over the younglings, "for warm-up. As for you, Cin — two hundred laps."
"Yes, Master!" Cin replied and even overtook me on the first lap. Started off at a fast pace? He'll look like a beaten dog by the seventieth lap. Well, his problem…
My mind was already on Chandrila — I wanted to get back into space and start our mission as soon as possible…
* * *
She approached the holoprojector; the connection took a long time over an encrypted channel. They couldn't afford to be seen yet, nor to converse over an open channel like that. Kneeling, she waited for the hologram of the Sith to appear…
"Sovereign Plagueis," she said to the hologram of a hooded Muun. His face wasn't visible, but she knew the Sith's identity.
"Shilazh," Plagueis's voice was calm and cold, like the weather on Hoth.
"The medallion was stolen by a former smuggler who worked for the Crimson Kraken — Joyran Karnur…"
"That is unpleasant," the Sith hissed, and Shilazh literally felt the air grow cold. "But what is more unpleasant: you failed to notice the Jedi who were following you. Shadows will be sent after you."
"Sovereign, but I…"
"Silence!" the Sith cut her off sharply. She felt something constrict her throat. "Your task was to obtain the medallion and conduct a trial ritual. And what did you do? You lost the medallion, and on top of that, you failed to notice two Jedi." She was lifted upward, and the air became slightly scarcer. "You have disappointed me, Shilazh. Disappointed me for the last time. Find the medallion, try to perform the ritual, and after — if it turns out to be what I was looking for — bring it to me. You too want to see someone on 'the other side,' don't you? For the chance to kill again, this time for good, your beloved, you promised me anything, but you're not even capable of obtaining the medallion to facilitate the ritual" whose secrets the Sith had lost, while Plagueis himself wished to use ghosts for his own empowerment. And then he heard about this medallion, matching an ancient image from Vitiate's era!
"I… KHAA!" she coughed as she collapsed onto the steel floor of their ship. "I swear, Sovereign! I won't fail again… KHAA!"
"Glad to hear it," Plagueis said insinuatingly. "As for the Crimson Kraken," he thoughtfully scratched his chin. "They shouldn't have betrayed our expectations. A servant's betrayal is the master's fault. Sidious," another figure appeared beside Plagueis, also in a dark cloak, only the young man's chin visible. "Go to Crimson Kraken territory and, using any available resources — destroy them all. Too much is at stake; we cannot allow the Crimson Kraken to live after everything they've done. That is all. I expect positive results from you, Shilazh. Truly," the visible part of the Sith's face twisted, presumably in a smile. "Now it will be harder. A Jedi Shadow has been sent on your trail — I would not underestimate An'ya Kuro if I were you. And those two on top of that. But your goal remains unchanged by these circumstances. I await your report." The Sith's hologram vanished, and the door behind her opened. A Mandalorian in imposing armor entered the room.
"What did the Boss say?" asked Teyron.
"Nothing new," Shilazh muttered. It was her mistake — she hadn't noticed those two Jedi, and as a result their operation had been exposed. She would fix it. She would kill the master, the apprentice, and the Jedi Shadow. "Nothing new… Except that now three Jedi will be hunting us." Teyron was wearing his helmet, but she knew her partner too well and knew he was smiling right now. Plus, his emotions radiated… anticipation. "Set course for Chandrila. We have to find that bastard!"