Classes at Alderaan University were quite difficult for ordinary sentients. I, however, had been training and studying since childhood — at least in this world, the world of a Galaxy Far, Far Away. So for me, studying was something of a habit. Though I had to step away from it a little. I needed to establish informal relations with Antilles, and sniff out everything that might relate to him and our enemy. And for that, I needed to strike up a conversation, to generally make myself likable to this character. Only… He, being an aristocrat, is used to this kind of conversation, where someone wants to get to know him for some ulterior motive. So for now, he takes my attempts neutrally. I might have to just bulldoze my way through.
"Lanian!" the economics instructor raised his voice. A fairly young, red-haired man. "I don't think my subject is so simple that you can be thinking about something other than it!"
Damn it. When I was training at the Temple, I could compensate for poor performance in one area with excellence in another. My fencing and Force abilities were beyond praise. The Knights understood that back then and didn't particularly insist on other disciplines. Most likely, such talent is also connected to my desire to protect myself. The Celestial River is too harsh a place.
"I apologize, Professor Siren," I confessed.
"Instead of apologizing to me — take notes. The principles of trade aren't something you can understand by simply memorizing them," well, unless it's primitive trade. Even children know — you give something, and you get something in return. But the more developed society became, the harder it was to measure one thing in terms of another. So society came to money. A universal unit of measurement through which trade is conducted. But generally, he's right. I'd better not think about anything other than the subject. Jaiko Mecetti, sitting two rows away, was clearly smirking. He likes it when I get put in my place… Well, what do I care about a conceited idiot, and a racist at that? And Sephi aren't that different from humans in appearance. So what if their ears are a little pointed… But an idiot will always find something to nitpick. I went back to my notes — or rather, to the lecture. Here, it's classic and follows the "textbook expansion" format. That is, the instructor reads everything that's in the textbook, but at the same time elaborates on it, may start a discussion among the students, or even ask someone to prepare a presentation. In short, it's interesting.
As for relations with my classmates… Although from the very first days I made it clear that I could verbally insult anyone and put them in their place. After all — I've never had a problem with my vocabulary. But physically, I haven't made myself known, and some people only understand either strength… Or the fact that your father has more money, influence, power than theirs. The second is impossible, so — to get Mecetti and his group of sycophants off my back — I'll have to seriously beat someone up. That girl, Linda, the gifted one. As they say: why not?
If they leave me alone… Although… How will the other classmates react? Won't it push them away from me? And then I'll again have to sneak into the Antilles House mansion on my own, try to sniff around on the central server. And if I can just take out all their guards head-on and reach my goal, then sneaking in quietly is much harder. My datapad buzzed on my left wrist. An email? By the sender's address — John. I've been living here for almost a month now, on Alderaan, and haven't learned anything useful. About Bail. I tried to build bridges with him; he only responded neutrally to my words, though with a hint of interest, in my opinion. The personal file doesn't lie… He really is interested in hunting, in fencing with vibro-blades, and generally loves sports. Only, as I thought, as an aristocrat, he perceives it solely as an attempt to make connections. And he rightly thinks that I need him, not the other way around.
Of course, in that kind of setting, I could have hit him with Force Persuasion. But first — his mind is clearly stronger than most. He's been raised that way from birth. Second — the moment I start using Force Techniques, Linda will see right through me. And I wouldn't even have to try hiding all my power. She'd just know... Third — I'm not particularly strong with that technique. So for now, putting that plan on hold is the smarter move. What are my priorities in my current mission? Getting a close acquaintance with Bail Antilles. Secondary objective — making sure those Mecetti sycophants get off my back... And, judging by Jonal's message, which I managed to read on the sly while the professor was drawing another graph, I've picked up an extra objective. And even though it matches my specialty... But seriously?
They want me to find some Dark Sider Padawan who swiped a Sith Holocron from his master and ran. The master — participated in excavating Sith ruins and found the Holocron. The Padawan was seduced by the teachings, fell, and killed his master. Classic. Now the Shadows sent after him found the master's corpse but neither the Padawan nor the Holocron. The kid might have holed up on Alderaan — he was taken into the Order from his family pretty late too. And how does he expect me not to forget the main mission while simultaneously tracking down a fugitive on the planet? Obviously — he wants me to act fast, because the kid could decide to bolt any minute.
To hypothetically search his hideout — I'd have to fly to another city on this planet. Crevasse City — that's where this Padawan lived, or rather his family. A city built among canyons, not far from Aldera. Only problem — even getting out of Aldera itself is tough, after all: they pile on so much work that even I struggle to get it all done. And how does he picture this? I'm supposed to drop everything and go to another city, and apparently I need to do it practically today. Who knows — the Padawan might see his family and then take off. So, who do we have here? My target's name is Loran Zok, son of simple workers in Crevasse City. Most likely — he's gone to his parents. And as a Shadow — I'm supposed to respond. It's preferable to detain Loran, elimination is an option. But the main thing — recover the Holocron.
Alright. If I think about it — I can make it there and back in one evening. Just need to not be stupid. Classes ended at four in the afternoon and I immediately rushed to the hotel. After thinking it over a bit, I decided to stay at the hotel rather than live in the dorms. First — the rooms were for two to four beings, depending on luck, which could interfere with my cover and my tradition — cleaning my favorite weapon every morning. Even if it hadn't been used, it's a tradition to keep your weapon in perfect condition. Second — it would interfere with my training and meditations. So it's better that I live in a hotel room, plus — the staff, for decent tips, doesn't ask questions, doesn't come into the room, or if they do, only when I allow it. Though I even considered buying an apartment or a little house here. A reasonable investment, even with the Death Star looming... But then I saw the prices for the cheapest options and decided the investment wasn't so reasonable and chose to spend the money on something else instead.
I walked quickly through the University's corridors, trying not to bump into anyone. And the crowd was incredible — the University has about thirty specialties, each averaging about a hundred students. So about three thousand per year. A pretty large number. Alderaan's star was shining pleasantly warm. The white buildings of the University were behind me, the exit from its grounds was a massive gate that was open almost all the time. As soon as I stepped out of the inner courtyard, I spotted the group I'd gotten used to. Mecetti and company were waiting for me again. For a month I'd been calmly avoiding them, training my stealth abilities. Mostly by leaving along with the crowd of other students. Which I pulled off again this time.
"Bail, are you going on vacation this weekend?" I heard a girl's voice at the edge of the crowd. Actually — a lot of people are saying a lot of things in a crowd. But this time I managed to latch onto one where Bail Antilles was. And honestly — I feel kind of out of place. Hmm... A crowd of Alderaanian aristocrats? On the other hand, picking me out in such a crowd would be hard, given the brilliance of their attire.
"I intend to visit my family's hunting grounds this weekend," Antilles replied. Actually — Bail was a bit of a star among the aristocrats. Especially the female aristocrats. A soft, rather gentle and pleasant voice, refined manners, an attentive gaze. Almost every female in the Aurek group was already dreaming of Antilles. I found it pretty strange... I mean, I'm handsome too, and then some. But here, they look at Antilles. Strange, but good — I guess. Means less distraction. As for the hunting grounds — I should remember that information. And where their grounds are, and what they plan to hunt.
"So you're not going 'there'?" Delon emphasized the last word oddly. "I thought you liked it last time, Bail."
"I do like it 'there,'" Bail replied. "But I don't like that I can't participate myself. My father forbids me from doing it," he said sadly. "And just sitting and watching someone else fight — I got bored of that."
Delon looked around.
"And where do you all go?" a girl asked in a stern voice. Amella Doyn, a blue-eyed blonde with... prominent assets. She was also my personal blue screen. Because despite being a natural blue-eyed blonde, contrary to all traditions — she was quite smart, capable, and strict. Also the head of our group. From the very first days, she'd clashed with Mecetti's little gang and, after a certain point, even tried to protect me from the latter. Mecetti — well... He was also impressed by the beauty and the brains, so much so that for the last couple of days he'd been strutting around her like a peacock, trying to win her over. I sincerely hope he decides she likes calmer guys and he leaves everyone alone. His Tapani pride is annoying half the group.
"No one is going to tell you anything," Delon said importantly.
"We go to no-holds-barred fights," Bail replied calmly.
"HEY!" Delon exclaimed. "I said no one was going to tell her anything."
"Oh come on," Bail replied. "Who cares, these fights have been on our planet since the Pantirs."
"No-holds-barred fights?" Amella asked. "But that's very dangerous! Incredibly dangerous! You don't actually participate, do you?"
"No way," Bail said sadly. "Father forbids me from taking part in any of it."
So, this little kid just needs some thrills? I can partly understand him. Living in the hothouse conditions of Alderaan — where else are you going to get a proper dose of adrenaline? Maybe he experienced a thrill somewhere before, and now he just wants a repeat.
"He says I'm not ready, that I'm too weak. And that it's not fitting for an aristocrat to dirty his hands with such things. But if I can beat my fencing instructor, then I can do whatever I want. Only my instructor..."
"An ex-Jedi..." Delon finished for him. "No ordinary being can beat him."
Ho, how interesting.
"Actually," I decided to cut into the conversation, "if a Jedi doesn't use the Force against you, and it's purely fencing, he can be beaten. Plus, they're mostly specialized in lightsaber fencing. Give him a regular sword — and he won't be as skilled."
"Lanian?" Bail looked at me. "Interrupting a private conversation."
"My apologies for that," several aristocratic gazes crossed on me. We had walked out onto a boulevard with several rather expensive cafes. The air was clean and beautiful. The crowd gradually broke into small groups. And in one of them were six beings. Me, Amella, Bail, Delon, and two aristocratic girls: a black-haired one, I think Miya, and a red-haired one — Rulana. "But I found the topic interesting. I wouldn't mind earning some credits in no-holds-barred fights. Where do they happen?"
"You wouldn't mind?" Delon, broad-shouldered, looked me over. "You've been running from Mecetti and his crew for a whole month. You need at least to bulk up a little before sticking your nose anywhere."
"I'm not running from Mecetti, Delon," I said softly. "I'm running from the problems that would fall on me if I beat them up. I'm a merchant's son, not the ruler of an entire planet. We're not even close to equals. And it's not about my species."
"And you're going to go there?" Amella asked, looking at me with clear disapproval. "To no-holds-barred fights? That's improper behavior for a student!"
"If they were held inside the University," I added. "But since we're left to our own devices outside the grounds — it's not for you to forbid me. You're not my mommy, glory to the Wind. And also, if you're interested, I could teach you fencing, Bail. Handling a Jedi is no small task. But if he's not hitting you with telekinesis or enhancing himself with the Force — it's doable. You just need to know which style suits him best."
"Style?" Delon asked. "What do you know about Jedi styles?"
Ask a Jedi Knight what he knows about Jedi styles? Given my background — I know more about styles than many Masters and Magisters. Well, in theory. In practice, unfortunately, it's not so clear-cut. Eh... Should I try to invent Vaapad? Or make something of my own... Hmm... Where's my medallion? I should summon someone strong with a blade.
"There are five or six of them. The first is studied as a foundation. The second — pure fencing, grace and elegance. The third — designed for defense. The fourth — a trickster's style, based on movement across the battlefield. The fifth — a powerhouse's style, trying to break through the enemy's defense. The sixth — a bit of everything. You can find anything on the HoloNet. And, of course, depending on the style, you can work out countermeasures. Jedi mostly gravitate toward one. For example — against an adept of the second style, the fifth works perfectly. That'll help push through, break their rhythm with brute force. Against the third — the fourth: constant attacks from all sides at high speed. Against the fourth — any style. The fourth style, from descriptions and holographic videos of some Jedi, is constant movement. Lure such an opponent into a confined space, limit his movement, and catch him on a mistake. Against the fifth style, the perfect defense of the third works best. If there is any defense at all. And finally — the sixth style is your development. It supposedly combines all the features of the previous styles but lacks their essence. So the one who is better developed wins. Of course, this is all theory. But you might not guess it from looking at me — I'm fast enough and strong enough to help you with this. Just tell me what style your instructor leans toward, or better yet, record a holographic video of his session, and I'll help you beat him."
"Ha," Delon snorted. "Brilliant lecture. But it's surprisingly similar to what's been floating around every forum for three hundred years. And how many have actually beaten a real Jedi with that kind of advice?"
"Depends on who's issuing the challenge," I noted. "If an opponent who is physically and mentally unprepared issues a challenge — then it doesn't matter how many guides and instructions he reads. Zero chance. But if it's someone who has trained, has experience, and a decent weapon — twenty, thirty percent. But I'll say this — even having a percentage chance of beating a Jedi is already a good achievement," and there's no point joking here. The Force — gives the Gifted the ability to do incredible things. If that Jedi instructor doesn't use the Force, then Bail has a chance — not to defeat him, but to impress him. Though, a lot depends on Bail himself and the Jedi.
"You talk as if you've seen a lot of Jedi," the previously silent red-haired girl cut in. Rulana, I think...
"In my family — my father's brother, meaning my uncle, was a Jedi. Unfortunately he died. But he taught me a little. Even if I'm not Gifted," well, they wouldn't sense me even if I released my Force, "I was taught fencing by a Jedi."
"Then, Tyvi Lanian, I want to see this," Delon said. "And if your words match your deeds, then I'll take you 'there.' How about," we stopped. The crowd had long since dispersed and we were just walking in the park, caught up in the moment, "this evening? At my estate."
"I can't today. I have some things to take care of," I shook my head. Got too caught up talking with them. Work doesn't wait. On the other hand — in a month I'd gotten a decent chance. "Tomorrow, after classes," that would be Friday. "What about then?"
"Perfect, Delon!" Bail said unexpectedly. "And I'll bring a holographic video of my teacher. We'll see how well you live up to your words, Lanian."
After saying goodbye to the group of aristocrats, I returned to my room. Using the Force, I opened the compartment with my swords. A second later and I had them disassembled right in the air. So... I carefully examined every part, made sure my weapons were in perfect condition, and put them back together. I also took off my formal clothes that I wear at the University. Those were also black and white. I put on my combat suit instead... Well, standard one, since I usually wear it. Checked my Bracers and sheathed my swords where I fasten them above my elbows. I replaced my usual shoes with more practical boots. And, one final touch, I pulled up my hood. To get to Aldera, I'd need to take the ferry. But that's not all. Twice a day, special passenger speeders depart from Aldera. Morning and evening. At six in the morning and six in the evening. They connect this city with other cities on Alderaan. But they're also only allowed for citizens of the planet. And I don't have a ticket, but I don't need one. I can slip past the security and get on the speeder to Crevasse City.
With the Force, I can try to divert the attention of ordinary beings from myself. That's one of the tricks Lorm taught me. And the Dark Woman perfected it. I closed the windows of my room and peered into the long corridor. No one... I decided to use the stairs to go down. Sure, the elevator from the tenth floor might be faster. But an elevator that arrives nearly empty... Or with a strange being that your gaze keeps slipping off of... Strange. The star was still lighting Aldera when I left the hotel. I had about an hour and a half until my bus. I could take a walk... But then again — why? I'd already walked around this area enough. So I spent the remaining time learning more about fare evasion and how to get past the security checkpoint. The landing pad for passenger speeders was on the outskirts of the city, a small building with ticket counters and a waiting room, true to their tradition, the Alderaanians had filled it with various houseplants. The building itself was surrounded by passenger speeders. Why am I going to be a stowaway? My appearance as Tyvi Lanian is in the database, and posing as a student would be strange. Posing as a Jedi... With my looks? The easiest thing right now is to slip through quietly... So, what do I do? Hmm... A distraction and a system glitch via a light ionization should be enough. I can also use Force Persuasion to convince a non-Gifted ticket checker that I have a ticket.
"Attention! Flight to Crevasse City departs in forty minutes! Currently fifty seats are available," a female voice announced. Perfect. I'll sit down and make it forty-nine.
And all my efforts weren't in vain. Except that I wasn't in the final passenger log for the trip. So I had to get up a little later and free up a seat for another passenger. In the end, fifty-one passengers flew to Crevasse City instead of the planned fifty. We arrived in Crevasse around seven in the evening... Since Aldera was in the same time zone, it was already quite dark. Or rather, not even that — it was dark because Crevasse was nestled in a canyon and Alderaan's star was no longer visible over the city. Leaving the station, I looked around. Majestic canyons surrounded the city. The buildings here were orange, not white like the ones I'd seen in Aldera. Calling up a holo-map, I started studying it. So, my location is on the very outskirts. The location of my target's family, where he could theoretically be hiding... Is on the opposite outskirts of the city. I should hide my Force signature now, so the Padawan can't sense me. Unlike in Aldera, there were speeders here available for rent. And the most interesting part — you could rent one by transferring money from an anonymous account. Because if rumors are to be believed — Alderaan's aristocrats used Crevasse for secret meetings. And a secret meeting is called secret because they wouldn't want nosy reporters, or their slicer friends, to find out from the speeder logs who paid for it... and especially where the aristocrat's speeder took them. The Padawan and his family lived on the very edge of Crevasse City. I could get there in about five minutes... According to the data, their building has three-room apartments. Before me stood a five-story building, well-maintained, with a tidy entrance. My target lives on the fourth floor. So... how to get in? I could just walk up to the apartment door and blow it off with the Force. Though that would make noise... Or... How convenient. The windows on my target's balcony are open. If I time it right — no one will notice me. I can use my Bracers to jump up to the balcony. Night is already falling on Crevasse, so getting inside won't be hard.
I looked around, checking if any beings were nearby, then aimed my left hand at the area next to the balcony. An instant and my Bracer fired a suction cup. Activating the mechanism, I pulled myself toward the balcony, using the Force to assist my body during the jump. Landing inside, I looked around... The tradition of dumping all sorts of junk on the balcony holds true for this Galaxy too. Though, I'm least interested in the junk. I peered at the passage into the apartment's room. No one was there, although the interior windows separating the balcony and the room were slightly open. Hmm... And next to them was a console, with which the windows could be fully opened. A simple task... Using telekinesis, I pressed the appropriate buttons and the windows slid smoothly into open mode. I slipped into the room. A lightsaber was pulled into my right hand, though not yet activated. The room was a living space, resembling something like a living room. A simple sofa with a view of a holographic projector standing in the center of the room... Holo-images of the family hung on the walls. A bit austere... Suddenly I felt someone clearly heading toward the room. From the sensation — not Gifted. And there were two auras in the apartment.
One Gifted — and judging by the feel, trained — a Padawan. He hasn't sensed me yet. And one non-Gifted... heading straight here. I stood to the left of the door... It opened, letting in a being... a woman. She was humming something. In the darkness, I couldn't make out her hair... But she decided to turn on the light — only I didn't let her, gently striking the side of her neck with the edge of my palm, using a stunning technique. The woman crumpled like a puppet, though I caught her with telekinesis so the fall wouldn't cause her trouble later.
"Mom?" a male voice sounded. "Are you okay?" footsteps followed. He's planning to come in here? Another silhouette appeared. He was almost a head taller than the woman and broader in the shoulders, muscular. He's fourteen years old and already taller than me... And how many more teenagers like this are there?
Loran — and it was him — entered the living room and was immediately slammed against the opposite wall by telekinesis.
"GHA!" he coughed blood. "Tch... shadow?!"
"Smart kid, figured it out," I said, activating my lightsaber. "Any last words?"
"Wait..."
"Foolish," I raised my blade to decapitate the Padawan, when he managed to activate his own saber and send it at me with telekinesis. Seems someone doesn't want to die easily. I dodged the attack and it broke my focus on the telekinesis. He jumped down and pulled the blue blade into his hands, assuming a Soresu stance.
"You came to kill me," he said. "I won't go down easy..."
I shrugged and instantly closed the distance between us. He looked at me in surprise, but his reflexes took over and he brought his blade up in a block, trying to parry my attack. But that was a clever plan — with a powerful, cleaving strike, I batted his blade aside. And since I'm basically faster — he couldn't react in time. A green blade moved and I severed his sword hand...
"NO!" he raised his remaining hand, trying to throw me away from him, but I met his telekinetic push with my own technique. Moreover, I was stronger and he was hurled against the wall like a sack. "Gha..."
"Foolish to think you could handle a trained Knight, let alone a Shadow," I pulled his lightsaber into my left hand. "The fact that you survived the first moments with me means nothing. But I promise you a quick death if you tell me — where is what you stole?"
"I..."
"Or your master found it. Seems you disagreed and you killed him, stealing the stolen artifact," I pointed Loran's own lightsaber directly at his face. "Answer."
"I... I didn't steal anything..."
"Then what about the Sith Holocron?" I asked him.
"It was... my master... We were on the excavation and we found it. Then... Then... He appeared... Another Jedi. He killed my master from behind and wanted to take the Holocron."
"What?" I asked in surprise. "Another Jedi? You're not mistaken?"
"No. He wanted to kill me, but I took the Holocron and ran. You Shadows are looking for him, aren't you?" he asked, clutching his stump. "If I tell you everything, will you leave me alone?"
"That depends on the value of the information," I said sternly. "And on whether you're lying to whitewash yourself." But he wasn't lying when he explained how he got the Holocron. I clearly sensed that. But what kind of Jedi? The one Jonal and I are looking for is Gifted, that's for sure. He probably uses lightsabers and could pass for a Jedi... Or is it someone else? The Force... Not many questions, but answering each one is very hard. What Jedi attacked them? Wait... If Jonal ordered me to eliminate the Padawan, then it's definitely someone from our Order. He attacked the teacher and student at the excavation, trying to take the Holocron. When Loran escaped from him, the Jedi reported to the Order that the Padawan had killed his master for the knowledge in the Holocron. It fits... So, this is another traitor of some kind... And... excavation, ancient knowledge, Holocron... But what if it's the same traitor who's also working for that collector Jonal and I have been fighting? The one Lothar worked for... "So, what will you tell me?"
"It was..." he closed his eyes, "it happened on one of the planets. My master was investigating the Sith Empire descended from Ruin. And we stumbled upon a Holocron belonging to one of the Sith Sorceresses. It all happened like a blur. The next moment, as my master took the Holocron in his hands — a lightsaber pierced him from behind, and behind him stood a Jedi... He seemed blurred, indistinct. I realized immediately that I couldn't handle him and decided to run. I took the Holocron..." he sniffled. "My master only said to me: 'Run!' And I ran. I blocked the passage, got to my master's ship through another exit from the ruins, and flew off..."
"The image was blurry?" I asked the Padawan. "Couldn't it have been a trap from the Sorceress? What color was the lightsaber blade?"
"I... don't remember... I was looking the other way."
"So you're telling me that someone managed to sneak up behind an Archaeologist-Knight. And neither he nor you noticed?" I asked with enough skepticism for a dozen people. "How is that even possible? Archaeologists have incredible reflexes from working in Sith tombs, and those sometimes have insane traps — catching them off guard takes real skill... Or... A mark of mastery. And you don't remember him. What made you think he was a Jedi at all?"
"The feeling..."
"The feeling?"
"The Light Side of the Force," the Padawan said. "He was definitely a Jedi. I was the best at sensing in my group... Was... I can definitely tell the sides of the Force apart."
"Understood," I summed up. What kind of mess is going on in this Galaxy? None of this was in the canon... Though, that's probably because Shadows were involved. Why do I keep referencing canon anyway? It's about time I distanced myself from it a little. After all — can't something else exist in the Galaxy? In short, don't judge by canon, just try to survive and achieve something. Do everything as best you can, and then — whatever will be, will be. "What to do with you — I don't know," I said thoughtfully. "I can't tell command that you escaped from me," damn, I chopped his hand off. "You see, it's not in your power to run from me in a confrontation. Even from the traitor you only escaped by a miracle, blocking the passage. What should I do with you... Maybe hand you over for interrogation to the Order?"
"No!" he exclaimed. "Don't you understand? He'll kill me! In the Order, he'll definitely get to me, if he had the skill to get behind my master's back!"
"I understand your fear, but I have my own mission on this planet and I can't protect you," I shook my head. "And I can't keep you with me. In the Order, if you appeal to Grand Master Yoda..."
"I told you! No! Better kill me, take the Holocron! But I don't want to go back to the Order. They'll kill me for sure there! Maybe it's better for me to die here? At least on my home soil..."
"Still, I can let you go," I deactivated my lightsaber. "As for your hand, let's say you lost it in a skirmish with someone else. Or didn't. From a distance, you can't tell it's a prosthetic. And any sentient can buy a prosthetic. Or do you really want to die? Don't you want to try and escape the Shadows? Keep in mind, you'll have to disappear into the Outer Rim Territories, Loran."
"Wh-why do you want to let me go?" he asked unexpectedly.
"Mmm? Your story makes for an astonishing mosaic," I said. "I can't say for sure what exactly is happening in the Order, who is fighting against us… and who the traitor is. But I can clearly see that you are not guilty. Should I take the life of an innocent sentient?" Again, my decision is based on my own reasoning. It's either a single traitor — a fairly strong Knight or a Master. Or an agent of Lothar's employer. Who exactly is it and what is their goal in our Order? Another gathering of knowledge. Obviously, that's why he's hunting archaeologists and artifacts of the Gifted. Both Lothar's employer and the Jedi traitor. If only I knew the identities of our enemies, but alas, they are still hidden." "But you'll have to forget about this place. About your mother, about the Jedi Order, and hide out on the backwater edges of the Galaxy from Shadows like me. Hiding from a bloodhound sharpened for finding and destroying the Gifted is hard, but possible. And your concealment is not my concern, as it turns out. So your survival depends only on you, Loran. I found you very easily, just by going to your mother. Others can do the same."
"I understand," the Padawan said, standing up and leaning on his good hand. "Fly away…"
"Still… If you want, I can kill you right now."
"No! I'll still fight for my life," he said.
"Then," I returned his lightsaber to his good hand, "this might come in handy for you. Run as fast as you can. Maybe someday, we'll sort all this out and you can return."
"That's unlikely, Shadow," Loran said. He waved his hand and a Sith Holocron shot out from under the sofa. "I won't need this. But you can say I escaped from Alderaan, and you only managed to find this during a search."
"I see," I took the crimson, triangular Holocron in my left hand and looked at it with interest. "Do you know whose it is?"
"I never opened it." I looked into the teenager's blue eyes. He's not lying… Or he is lying, but too skillfully to fool me. Either way, he gave me some good food for thought. And he definitely wasn't lying in some parts. In general, judging by his file, he is straightforward and honest, and he was striving to become a Protector. I can trust him, at least a little.
"Well, then. Let's adjust your mother's memories of you coming here. More precisely, we'll make her believe that you came for a couple of hours, stayed for a bit, and then flew away. Can you handle it yourself, or should I do it?"
"Me and Force Persuasion, Shadow… It's bad," the Padawan said sadly. Another one… Well, fine. She didn't see me. She's unconscious right now. So implanting the right memories won't be a problem. I leaned over the woman and touched her unresisting mind with the Force…
"I'll just compress the time you spent here," I summed up. "You arrived the day before yesterday. And you'll leave this morning. The message came to me at one in the afternoon, and you left at ten in the morning. Physically, I simply wouldn't have had time to catch up to you. It's a good thing she's unconscious and not resisting. There," I took my hand off her head.
"And how long will you search for the enemies?" he asked me. "Years? Decades?"
"If only I knew," I sighed heavily. "But I hope you don't get involved in this yourself. Believe me, with your skills, it would be a stupid death."
"I was the best swordsman in my clan!"
"And I was the best among everyone, and even won the Royal Battle Tournament. They don't hold those anymore, do they? When the final has an odd number of participants, and it's every man for himself."
"The last such tournament was several years ago," the Padawan said, trying to peer at me with curiosity.
"Alright, we've lingered here long enough," I walked over to the windows. "Get out of here if you want to live, Loran. And try not to leave a trail. Change your appearance, your habits. Hell, repaint your ship."
"My mentor and I flew around in an old tub," the Padawan snorted. "But the mentor loved to play with the transponder that transmits signals about the ship's identity. I picked up his skills in that, so I'll leave unnoticed, like a Shadow!" Hopefully not like a bull in a china shop.
* * *
"I was too late with the order," Master Jonal Ezar said as I stood reporting to him about Loran. Since I decided to spare Loran, I had to tell my boss about it in a way that made it seem like I didn't make it in time. After all, it's wrong for a Shadow to spare someone. But truly, I sensed neither the Dark Side of the Force in him, not even a hint, nor any deception. "But you managed to recover the Holocron that was stolen from the Order."
Stolen from the Order? Loran's mentor didn't even have time to turn it in! Or does he consider such artifacts the property of the Order by default…
"I take it I won't have to continue pursuing Loran?" I inquired, tilting my head slightly to the side.
"No," the Master replied. "Other Shadows will handle him. You have your own assignment. It so happens you could have run into him, but in the end, you didn't. No matter. He'll likely hide in the Outer Rim." Even if the Shadows do catch him, they're unlikely to interrogate Loran himself and find out whether I let him go, or if he really managed to ditch me faster than I could reach his location. And even if they do interrogate him, who will they believe? A Padawan who killed his mentor, according to the official version. Or a Shadow Knight who says it's just a fabrication? Though such a stunt could make the leadership watch me more closely. I hope my mercy doesn't come back to bite me. I should also find out where Loran's mentor had been flying and which other Jedi of the Order could have been in that sector. "Hand the Holocron over to a contact; he'll deliver it to Coruscant. And… by the way, how is the progress on your assignment?"
"I managed to get Bail interested," I answered the Master. "Today, after classes, I'll meet up with his group. The guy really wants to get into the no-holds-barred fighting on Alderaan. There's a tournament like that here."
"I know," the Master's hologram nodded. "Aristocrats get bored sometimes. And?"
"His father hired an outcast from our Order to teach him swordsmanship, and set a condition that Bail can go there if he defeats this outcast."
"Defeat a Jedi?" Jonal snorted. "And who is this outcast?"
"Probably a Knight… And, Master, since you found out this information from me, maybe we won't cut him down just yet?"
"I wasn't planning to," Jonal said, "at least not until I found out who it is and what his motives are. Gifted from other paths can and even should be cut down, because they can be dangerous. An exiled Jedi… If we start cutting them down indiscriminately, others might start to protest. In any case, it doesn't matter. I don't plan to mess with the Antilles' fencing teacher just because he's a former Jedi. But are you going to train Bail to defeat a Jedi?"
"I found the prospect tempting. He definitely won't use the Force against a non-gifted being, so all I need to do is teach him a style and train him. Useful practice. Maybe someday I'll have a Padawan myself. This way I can understand how to teach someone younger…"
"You're two years younger than him yourself, Light," Jonal cut off my sentence. "Well, we'll see what comes of it. If it helps you, teach him. But remember the main goal of your assignment. A pirate might be a small fry of that creature. But an aristocratic House in the Core Worlds definitely isn't."
"I remember the mission, Master. And I won't fail." Untangling this knot is even interesting to me. This event certainly wasn't among those I studied in the first world. That means I'll have to strain my own brain, not just rely on an already written history. But if I can get to the truth… The Master's hologram vanished, and I licked my lips. A strange gesture… but for some reason, I've gotten used to it quickly… If I can get to the truth relying not on canon, but only on my own mind. Wouldn't that be a fine achievement, one I could be proud of?