"Isn't it a bit late to be changing your mind, Master Yoda?" Lorm asked with slight irritation, settling into the chair across from the ancient master. "Demanding that I hand my student over to someone else."
Circumstances for Lorm Decer were changing at an incredible speed. A few years ago, he would have just laughed at any smartass who claimed that he, Lorm Decer, would take on a Padawan. Then came the summons from Yoda and the end of his free life. Yoda "would very much like him, Lorm, to take a closer look at one young man." The one Lorm could truly respect was Yoda. The other masters on the Council didn't really impress him. Though even Yoda had been slipping lately. Either way, he'd perceived Light as a burden. A heavy and unnecessary one... Though the kid turned out smart and skilled — too bad about his excessive kindness, which kept setting him up. Lorm even feared that Light wouldn't be able to take a life when necessary. Though he'd feared for nothing. In battle, Light transformed from a naive good-natured guy into a selfish bastard, trying to expend minimum effort for maximum result, using Soresu and Force Techniques to their fullest, to finish off his opponent as quickly as possible.
That transformation amused Lorm. Afterwards, the Jedi Knight himself hadn't noticed how his student had started changing him. The Force bond, questions, answers, training... Light was changing under his influence, but Lorm himself was also re-examining old beliefs, replacing them with new ones... For instance, he used to not worry, but now he increasingly thought about his promiscuous sexual encounters. With all sorts of women... After all, among them were those who didn't use contraception, and there had been serious relationships too. And what if there was no biological protection from the species? Maybe he already had children... And the previous Lorm wouldn't have cared about his student, or his children, or anything at all. He would have run around the galaxy restoring the legacy of the gifted ones of the past. But the present Lorm had started asking questions not only to the gifted ones of antiquity, but also to himself.
"Your ability to unlock Light's potential has run out," Yoda said importantly. "You have taught him all you were meant to. Another should take over his training..."
"Well, screw that!" Lorm exclaimed, perhaps even too loudly, because Yoda, sitting across from him, winced slightly. "Not everything..."
"And what else will you teach him?" Yoda asked. "The Council is concerned about young Light's abilities. Pyrokinesis is not an ability a Padawan should study. Don't you remember? Alter abilities are studied by Knights. But Light is a Padawan, not a Knight."
"I won't tolerate such instruction, Master," Lorm said through gritted teeth, feeling his regard for the wise Jedi, who had always indulged and helped him — the Padawan of Teym Cerulian — begin to plummet sharply. "My student is ready for such a technique."
In truth, Light, despite his overly kind nature, possessed simply incredible mental stability, which was directly stated in his file. The boy had no doubts when taking lives and witnessing the cruelty of the galaxy. So Lorm considered Light worthy of learning such a difficult technique, just as he intended to teach him Emerald Lightning — the Jedi equivalent of Force Lightning. If only he had enough sense not to use pyrokinesis, this conversation wouldn't have happened.
"The Council considers Light's abilities exceptional, but you are training him incorrectly," Yoda sighed.
"My student is capable of fighting and defeating an average Jedi Knight. Am I really training him that incorrectly?"
"You judge too narrowly. A Jedi is not known through battle."
"Yeah, tell that to the dozens of dead diplomats, Master. I've said my piece. I'm used to doing my job perfectly. Any job! But I'm not yet ready to declare my student's training complete. Take him away, and there'll be one less competent archaeologist in the Order." In truth, almost nothing held Lorm here anymore. Had he become disillusioned with the Jedi teachings? No. In his view, Jedi were still the ideal. Just not the sentients who called themselves "Jedi" now. Only Light still kept him here. Light and the possible resources of the Order, which helped him find what he was willing to spend his whole life on. What Teym had introduced him to and what he hoped to introduce his student to. If Lorm had a son somewhere, he was ready to declare that son — whenever he might have been born — would always be his second son, not his first. The first was Light Flyingstar.
"Stubborn in your judgments you are. It suits you," Yoda nodded. "Truth be told, the Council is divided on this matter. Each case must be considered individually, and Light is a most unique case. Therefore, despite the negative rhetoric, half the Council has nevertheless leaned toward allowing you to complete his training."
"Then why did you start our conversation by suggesting I hand my student over to another Jedi? To whom, by the way?"
"To an old acquaintance of yours," Yoda replied without unnecessary games. "Light's prospects are clear to the Council. He will become either a Consular or a Guardian. One of the Guard corps took an interest in him."
"Temple Guards?" Lorm asked mockingly.
"Shadow Guards," Yoda shook his head, sending a chill down Lorm's spine. He had encountered them many times as an archaeologist, occasionally digging up dark artifacts, descriptions of Dark Side Force techniques, Holocrons of Sith Lords, and much more.
"What do they want him for?" Lorm asked. "I always thought — and I was told — that they take average types, ones who don't stand out. My student is incredibly strong in the Force — by the classification from some game, quite amusing, he'd be called a shock trooper. Shadows are assassins. I don't see those abilities in him. When he stops concealing himself in the Force, he shines like a star in the sky."
"You answered the question yourself," Yoda pointed a finger at him. "Your student is so talented he can conceal even such power. What distinguishes him is not knowledge of a large number of Force techniques, but the ability to apply them at the right moment. What good is an assassin who knows a ton of techniques but can't use them?"
"My answer remains unchanged. My student will become an archaeologist, but only after completing his training with me..."
"You decide for him?" Yoda asked Lorm. "And what Light might want, have you asked him, mm?"
"Something that would let him kill and fight less," Lorm answered the question. "My student, despite all his abilities, is still too kind even now. He once said that in some ancient language — without citing the source — his name means light. He lives up to that name, though you wouldn't say so in battle."
"Light can burn, especially the light of a star..." Yoda noted reasonably. "In any case, you both must be cautious. The witch Shilazh and that mercenary are strong. I am concerned that despite your strength and Light's, you may not be able to stand against them."
"You're worrying for nothing, Master. If we encounter them, we can both hold our own. And on top of that — you've put one of the best Shadows on their trail. If anyone can bury them in the dumpster of history, it's An'ya," Lorm sneered maliciously.
"Nevertheless," Yoda countered, "the highest chance of meeting them falls to you and your student. As long as that girl is with you, as long as you haven't found Joyrana, her brother — you are in danger. I have a bad feeling about this whole venture. I disagreed with the Council about transferring Light to another master. Though they did put it up for discussion." If you disagreed with this, then why propose it? Lorm looked at Yoda skeptically. Who was the master? Nearly a thousand years old! So many years honing combat skills, the Force, negotiations... And intrigue. It would be naive to think that Yoda hadn't dabbled in the dark side of politics — active scheming. The problem was him, his young student. Exceptional abilities, incredible persistence — though that same Xanatos, whom Qui-Gon Jinn was running after, had practically the same abilities — was arrogant to the point of idiocy, while his student was not — humble in the world, but calculating in battle. In perspective — a Master of the Jedi Council. The only downside remained his kindness... Wasn't that why Yoda was against replacing a "Knight displeasing to the Council" because Lorm hadn't finished his mission yet? Yoda's true goal regarding his student wasn't to make him a great archaeologist, or a Master of the Force, or a great swordsman. No... The real goal was to harden the young student's character. So that later he could be molded into an excellent Jedi. Unwavering, strong. Such a Jedi would become a significant asset on the Order's side. That was Yoda's cunning. He, Lorm, would probably be written off as the student's master when Yoda judged that he had sufficiently developed his character... The galaxy wasn't a fairy tale — to possess such power but with the kind of character his young student had in the world was like first capturing the Star Forge and then handing it over to your worst enemy. "And most importantly — many doubt that you should be the ones searching for Joyran and that artifact."
"I'm the best archaeologist in the Jedi Order," Lorm snorted. "If anyone can figure out how to study and deliver the medallion to the Order, it's me. And the Council understands that perfectly, Master."
"Yes," Yoda drawled. "I have outlined all your problems."
"And again — I don't see any problems, Master," Lorm grinned.
"Problems?" Yoda raised the equivalent of an eyebrow for his species. "You don't see problems? And what of your visions, mm?" He pointed his stick at Lorm. Lorm paled. Recently, they had been appearing more and more frequently. A rapidly changing situation... A dull impact... Darkness... Two eyes the color of molten gold, evidence of falling to the Dark Side of the Force... A flash of green lightsaber... A strange pop and darkness... "You must keep your student safe," Yoda interrupted him, "and complete your mission. But the visions trouble you, do they not?"
"I don't believe in mirages," Lorm Decer snapped, waving dismissively. "All these visions of the future — they're all conditional. You can see your death a thousand times... The death of the galaxy, a future threat — so what? Everything is decided here and now."
"You are foolish, Lorm Decer," Yoda sighed heavily, and Lorm suddenly felt like he was back in a classroom. "Visions of the future do not arise for no reason. Is it the will of the Force? Or is it the real future? Can it be avoided? Or is fate already written? The Force sends us signs so that we may be prepared. To let go of what must be let go. To prepare for the inevitable when it is unavoidable. To do what must be done. Think on this, Knight Decer," Yoda said importantly. "Our conversation is over... For now." Yoda indicated his desire to meet again. "We will see each other again quite soon. If you are not careful, it will not be as it should be..."
* * *
The ship dropped out of hyperspace near a green planet. Selvaris... It took literally seconds for the ship to almost literally vanish from all possible detection spectra... One look from my master was enough for me to realize what was wrong with me. I was an idiot. Every time I showed up somewhere, I'd activate the ship's cloaking device. Of course, the Star Trek, covered in stygium crystals, suffered from invisibility. The sensor range dropped to laughably small values. Meaning we were almost blind. But it was better than turning into stardust.
"Master?" I called to Knight Decer, who was sitting in the chair next to me with a rather pensive expression. "We've almost arrived. Master?"
"Ah... Yes," Lorm suddenly snapped out of it, adjusting the sleeves of his robe. "Selvaris. Call Mila..."
"I'm already here, Master Lorm," the girl sitting behind him announced.
"Is everything all right, Master?" I asked Lorm. "After all — you didn't sense Mila sitting behind you..."
"I was just thinking, my student. A lot has been piling up lately, yes," Lorm nodded. "What about the scan?"
"In stealth mode, our sensors are weaker, but the scan came back negative," I noted.
"Kill the cloak and scan normally. Selvaris is a poor planet, once inhabited by smugglers and pirates, but later it got a place in the Republic. It's a real refuge for all sorts of scum, and the conditions haven't changed since its settlement and discovery. Sentients live on special platforms built in the middle of swamps."
"Joyran gave me all the data on his hideouts back in the day," the girl noted, dressed in her usual mechanic's jumpsuit. On our date, Mila had taken the chance to change into a light white sundress that suited her very well. But on the ship, she'd immediately thrown on the jumpsuit and appeared in that. She also preferred to sleep in the storage room where she'd originally been put. Lorm had offered her his cabin, but she just grimaced... It seemed she didn't like Lorm's "debauchery" very much. She'd told me directly that she didn't want to sleep in the room of a lecherous Zabrak who only knew how to hit on every woman. But such insults rolled right off my master. She'd refused my cabin too, because "the captain's cabin is for the captain." "His hideout was on a platform that had been abandoned for a while. It's half-sunken underwater. But Joyran still considered that damp place, overgrown with moss — as he described it — his main hideout..."
"Hm," Lorm grunted as Mila loaded a holographic image onto the projector. "It's obvious that none of you children know what a real hideout is."
"Master, but I was with you then..."
"Oh, you know. But using a rusty, moss-covered platform that's half underwater," the master zoomed in on the hideout. "That's stupid. Though what else would you expect from him."
"My brother is far more resourceful than you," Mila said importantly. "And I already told you why." She spun a cylinder in her hands that could be connected to a computer terminal. "I just need to connect it to a computer in any of his hideouts on the list, and I can get data on where his ship went. He set it up so I could find him anytime!"
"Yes, or Shilajj with Teyron," Lorm said with an evil grin. "The way I see it, the harder you are to find, the better your chances of success. Fine. This will help us," he agreed with Mila. "Wait, you deviated from course?" Lorm asked as we entered the atmosphere.
"I'm not going to crash my ship, Master," I answered the knight. "I'll land nearby as soon as I find a suitable spot."
On Selvaris, being a fairly poor planet, there was no spaceport equivalent. You landed wherever you wanted; the residential platforms themselves had spots and everything was done cleverly. Occupied spots sent a signal saying the spot was taken, while free ones sent the opposite. Interesting system...
"There," I spotted a wooden shack five kilometers away. Scanning showed no signs of life. The ship, scraping against vines at speed — damn, I'll have to clean that later — landed in the shack's yard, which was fenced off.
"Why were you looking for a house?" Lorm asked. "We can sleep on the ship. I personally prefer the ship," he said, looking at the shack through the windshield.
"Me too," Mila agreed with him.
"Um... Well, I wasn't looking for a house, but a stable place to land... It's five kilometers from here to the shelter."
"Oh, I see," Mila said with slight admiration.
"Still, the house is worth checking out. Maybe someone lives here," I said thoughtfully.
On Selvaris, where we were now — it was night. Only tomorrow morning would we inspect the house and take a walk to the shelter. Until then — everyone went to their sleeping quarters. The night on the ship passed normally, if I do say so myself. In the morning, we got ready for the hike... Although, what morning? The thick swamp vegetation blocked out the light from the star Selvaris orbited. The house turned out to be abandoned, with — Mila stared at it in horror — the remains of a couple of sentients. According to Lorm's analysis, they'd died about a hundred years ago. However, it wasn't the poor souls' remains that worried us, but something else entirely. Joyran Karnur's shelter...
And I regretted at the time that I hadn't thought to buy a speeder. Traveling through the swamp thickets on foot was very difficult. No, not like that — incredibly difficult. In the first day, we barely made it two kilometers toward our goal. The marshes that followed turned out to be unbelievably impassable... And the midges, just waiting to bite any exposed patch of skin, drove Mila crazy. They didn't bother me and Lorm only because we kept a Force Barrier around our bodies. But I couldn't maintain that same technique around Mila's body for long, and Lorm, who genuinely insisted Mila should wait on the ship while we handled things — didn't want to. The result of our debates, arguments, and everything else was this: Mila hands over the cylinder and all the passwords she knows, and she waits it out on the ship with BB-7. To avoid accidents — the master asked me to lock down the ship, because knowing Mila, she might try to charge into the swamps.
Crossing the Selvaris swamps without the weak Gifted who couldn't use her power was much easier. This time, we not only got through all the difficult sections but also found the platform itself. The dense thickets of the rotting swamp blocked out the sunlight... The putrid smell was disgusting, unpleasant, squeezing the lungs... And worst of all, along the way we started encountering not just midges, but other fauna whose intentions involved satisfying their dietary needs at our expense. Heading toward the platform, the master and I cranked all our sensory Force techniques to maximum. You never know — maybe the local equivalent of leeches would attack again. But no, everything was quiet.
The platform was half-flooded...
"I hope at least something on it works," Lorm Decer grumbled. "Otherwise, we'll need to fly very far. I'm already sick of this little planet."
The swamp water had already soaked our clothes and boots. Still, maintaining a Force Barrier against ordinary water was too much.
"Everything happens for the best, Master," I said, while silently cursing Joyran.
"Your emotions say otherwise," the man noted. "Or do you enjoy wading through the muddy bottom of rotting swamps?"
"We'll probably need to fly somewhere fresher... Naboo or Alderaan?" I asked the master.
"Zeltron," the Knight broke into a smile. "Lately, I've been tormented by the thought that many women might have already spawned a bunch of little Lorms," so even someone like him could have second thoughts? "But Zeltron women aren't compatible with me. And with them, everything is so wonderful, no strings attached."
"Yes, it's easier to avoid responsibility than to bear it," I sighed mournfully. We walked half the way to the platform along the muddy bottom, holding ourselves and each other up with the Force, and the other half we swam entirely. Finally, the iron contraption, submerged at a thirty-degree angle, was within arm's reach.
Clenching my fingers on the cold steel, we pushed ourselves out of the swamp with the Force... I need to come up with a Force equivalent of Geppo. Otherwise, I'll definitely drown in some swamp someday. Although there was no quicksand around, the cold water definitely wasn't good for the body. Especially considering this water was putrid. Only a few buildings on the platform were barely preserved.
"A terrible place," I said. "Let's go, Master."
"Uh-huh," Lorm grunted. The moment we stepped forward, I felt movement on the flanks. "Student," Lorm sighed heavily. "Ready for some fun?"
"Hutt," I expressed, looking at the mercenaries who had taken positions in front of us. Thirty sentients, a whole squad. And they'd positioned themselves cleverly: behind cover, rifles trained on us. "I wouldn't say I particularly wanted fun right now."
"Yeah, yeah. You'd rather have fun with Mila than with a bunch of guys who are just begging for a lightsaber in the gut."
"No comment, Master..."
"Jedi!" a future suicide exclaimed from behind one of the buildings. "We know you have something that Mila Karnur gave you! Something concerning her brother! Hand it over and you'll live. We won't even destroy your ship."
Funny joke... BB-7 could definitely fly the ship; he had a pretty high access level. We weren't worried about the ship... But we should be worried about the condition of these mercenaries, because my teacher was practically radiating... Anticipation.