Duality

Posts: 1584

Leia found herself nodding in agreement with Zark as she took in the presence of the crystal and its’ tree. Whatever the crystal was, it seemed too precious to leave behind for the Sith…

“You’ve managed to preserve the essence of the Jedi Order” she ventured, her expression turning thoughtful. “It feels exactly like the Academy did, when the Order was at its’ strongest. I’ve never seen anything like this before…”

The Jedi Master smiled despite the gravity of the moment.

“It would seem as though the Jedi Order is literally in your hands, Master Ekan.”

With the weight of other matters pressing, the trio reluctantly left the tree behind to continue their walk.

“Before we catch up on business, I would like to spend some time in the Library looking through the Order’s old archives… with your permission.” Leia said, glancing sideways to gauge Zark’s reaction. Although he was not as attuned to her presence as a Jedi who was more accustomed to her might have been (even Karah), she knew he could sense her troubled thoughts.

“Of course, the libraries of Ossus are at your disposal” the Grand Master replied neutrally. “However, business can wait until tomorrow… with your permission” he continued, returning the sideways glance. “It is getting late, why don’t we all catch up over dinner? It has been a long time, Leia.”

****

The next morning…

Leia sat in a dark corner of the Library, accompanied only by a stack of holocrons and a steaming mug of some local herbal tea. She had risen early to make the most of her free time before she met with Zark to discuss their mutual concerns. All she had to guide her search was a name, the lone piece of information she had been able to pull from her personal records…

Andrea Rashanagok.

Settling in for a long tedious search, Leia picked up the first holocron and activated it.

The Birth of an Order

Her own Jedi training barely complete, a series of circumstances lead Jedi Knight Leia Organa Solo to Naboo several years after the death of Palpatine. Driven by suspicions that a Sith presence was forming deep within the swamps, Leia formed an alliance with Gungan leader General Ceel and founded a Jedi Order in the Gungan capital city of Otah Gunga in an effort to thwart the Sith before they could establish a new foothold. Leia could only hope that the combined might of the Gungan army and the depths of the oceans would protect the fledgling Jedi Order from danger...

Leia sighed and dropped the holocron into a rapidly growing discard pile before picking up the next from the large sample she had pulled from the archives. Zark’s Ossian workers had managed to collect many of the Jedi Order’s early records as well as old news feeds and historical documents, but they were hardly organized by any definition of the word. While they had restored the structure of the Library, much of the library’s innards were still in a state of disarray.

Transition to Theed

In order to make the Order’s move from Otah Gunga to the new temple in Theed as smooth as possible, all Jedi are asked to…

Transition to Theed also hit the discard pile, as Leia quickly recognized it as an old administrative memo she had once written. After pausing for a sip from the nearby mug, she picked up the next holocron and studied the label…

The House of the Fall.

The House of the Fall was like any other house. It was made of stone pillars supporting wooden beams. The beams were plated over with solid wooden sheets. The sheets were coated in a mixture of polyurethane and gravel, to prevent the water from touching the wood. The mixture was constantly touched by wood, both from behind, and in a breeze, from the outside.

The house is situated at the end of a long dirt road leading from the remnants of an old town. Not much of the town remains now; mostly abandoned for the underwater cities further in the opposite direction. Past the house, the lake. A small lake, barely worthy of the name, but water nonetheless.

The house is denoted on maps given to students of the old Jedi Temple on Theed, at least, when the temple is in operation. It is marked, along with the lake behind, as an area of the woods of Naboo that is better left unexplored.

“Hmph, why does that sound familiar?” Leia muttered to herself as she browsed the text.

She had been there before. In the dream…

Andrea Rashanagok had died at the hands of the Sith on Naboo, her son nowhere to be found after her death.

Andrea Rashanagok, one of a hundred Jedi Padawans Leia had mentored at the Academy on Naboo over the years.

Andrea Rashanagok, beloved mother of Andrew.

Ahnk.

Ahnk Rashanagok

Posts: 5387

“You know that simply by being in this room, you are breaking several planetary and interplanetary laws, yes?”

Ahnk Rashanagok sighed softly, turning around and raising his hands. “Oh, you know me better than that,” he offered with a wry smile. “You know that rules have never stopped me.”

Normally, at this point in an adversarial conversation, Ahnk would have his lightsaber in his hand. This one, however, was being held with his lightsaber in someone else’s hand; namely, the Jedi Master Amalia, who had taken it from him before she spoke up. She held it, along with hers, pointed, roughly, at the center of his spine.

“So are you going to tell me why you’re here, or should I alert the authorities?” she asked.

Ahnk sighed. “Is it not enough to say that there’s an important reason for me to be here, and you transition from holding me captive to providing armed security for me?”

She smirked. “You’re still incredibly arrogant,” she said, and then lowered one of the lightsabers so that he could see her thumb on the trigger. “If the next thing out of your mouth isn’t an explanation, we go with the police.”

“I need to know,” Ahnk said, his face now frozen in a neutral expression. “I have sensor records from my ship. A wormhole, artificially generated, opening inside Caprician space, just long enough for a data burst to be sent through to another location. This isn’t a one time thing. I have sensor relays throughout the galaxy monitoring for just this kind of anomaly. I can’t scan everything… I don’t have enough to bribe every government… but I know this; for the past several years, every month, a wormhole opens here, and then closes. Someone is collecting information for the Cree’Ar. And I want to know whether anyone here on Capricia has authorized it.”

“Authorized it?” Amalia said, in disbelief. “You’re talking about wormholes. The people here don’t have the technology to create that…”

“They don’t, but they can track it,” Ahnk said, becoming more animated. “They know its happening.”

“How could they know something like that?” she asked, still not believing. “Their space is reasonably large, and a wormhole can be infinitesimal.”

“They know because I know,” Ahnk said. “This,” he said, holding up a hard copy report, “is a log of information recorded from ASCA #67. It’s the same report I get provided to me, thanks to a few well placed bribes within the Vinda Corporation.”

“What’s an ASCA?” Amalia asked.

“Advanced Sensor And Communication Array,” Ahnk answered back. “They are capable of long range and incredibly intricate passive and active scans, as well as a wide measure of communicative functions. I am well aware of their technology; I bought dozens of them when I ran my Empire and have many still stationed, functional, in key locations throughout the core. But the few I have do not compare to the hundreds, perhaps thousands, located inside Commonwealth territory. They keep a tight eye on their section of space. So I knew, coming in here, that they must have known.”

“But isn’t this kind of thing…” she said, trying to work out the scientific details. She wasn’t a theoretical physicist, so much of hew knowledge of wormholes was probably learned long ago from old theories. “Isn’t it the kind of thing that is easy to miss?”

“Yes and no,” Ahnk said. “As I said, I know the functions of this systems and one of those functions is a Pattern Analysis Module. See, many cloaked ships operate on the principle that, while fluctuations in the gravity well can be detected, they can also occur as a result of random spatial fluctuations due to things in other systems… a solar flare, for example, sends a ripple of electromagnetism that can echo on a sensor grid as if it were a cloaked ship. So they make small enough motions so as to remain hidden. But the Pattern Analysis Module detects otherwise random minor fluctuations and compares them and tracks them and figures out when a random blip isn’t actually random, but rather part of a pattern it can track and analyze, and let me tell you, on the button, once a month, is far too coordinated to be a random event. The system would detect it for sure.”

“Okay,” she said, her face a mask of annoyance, “let’s say that that makes sense and is all true. So they have a log of this event. That doesn’t indicate anything wrong.”

“What’s interesting,” Ahnk said, holding up the report, “is not that I found the log, but where.” He offered her a stack of papers. She hesitated. “If you’re worried I’d go for the lightsaber, you can relax. I have another one clipped to my back that I haven’t drawn yet. If I wanted a fight, we’d be fighting. I want answers, Amalia, and answers come from asking questions. So take the papers, please.”

She tucked his, and her own, lightsaber into her belt, and reluctantly took the papers. She flipped through them briefly. “I don’t understand,” she said. “These are about estate prices. They have nothing to do with…”

“Flip to page seven,” Ahnk said, interrupting.

Amalia did so. Her eyes opened slightly. “This is… misfiled.”

“Intentionally,” Ahnk said. “As I said, I buy copies of the ASCA Record Dumps. As they come off the line, they’re transmitted to me before they get filed. Once they get filed though, something interesting happens. This woman… Arien… whatever she is, whoever she is… files minutes from each of her meetings with regards to real estate ventures that various Caprician leaders may be interested in. Once a month, an ASCA Sensor Record is diverted into that pile. Lost there amongst the minutes of boring real estate meetings no one will ever want to read, is evidence of a foreign government spying on the Capricians. The official record of ASCA #67 is that it goes down for twice a month, four hour maintenance routines at that time. But the second of those two routines lasts only fifteen minutes… it records the wormhole opening, but when it’s filed… that recording ends up amongst the minutes of an entirely unrelated meeting.”

“Someone tampered with their filing systems,” she concluded. He nodded, having reached the exact same conclusion. “Who?”

“Well, before I answer that, let me ask you a question,” Ahnk began. She nodded slowly. “Before the declaration went out over the Holonet… had you ever seen a Cree’Ar?”

“No,” Amalia said. “I don’t think anyone had.”

“So if you saw one walking around…” Amalia’s eyes opened wider again, and Ahnk nodded. “See, it occurred to me that there must be a reason why the Cree’Ar attacked Coruscant. Sure, if you attack Coruscant, you remove the head of the Empire… their communications, their finances, their military, their everything routes through there. But once you’ve attacked, they just reroute everything and go about their way. They’re too big to be destroyed in a single attack. There had to be something they wanted. But see… me and you, we’re not like the people of Coruscant. Me and you, we see a three legged, green skinned alien, we think nothing of it…”

“Because we don’t live in The Empire,” she said, following along, “where xenophobia is more common, and something like that stands out.”

“Exactly,” Ahnk said. “I met a Cree’Ar before… Zeratul, he called himself. He was… deceptive… manipulative. He was a spy. But he could spy on me, because I don’t raise my guard just because someone is an alien. It would be harder for them to infiltrate the Empire.”

“So their attack on Coruscant was to get information, you think?”

Ahnk nodded. “They’re trying to fill in the blanks by getting information from the one source they could never spy on before,” Ahnk said. “They’re looking for something, and now they have what they need to find it.”

“What do you think they’re looking for?” Amalia asked in response. Ahnk didn’t reply, except with his eyes. Amalia got the gesture. “You think they’re looking for us? The Jedi?”

“It makes sense,” Ahnk said. “There’s always been a dark taint about The Empire. From the days of Palpatine to now, it seems that when you see a Stormtrooper, if you go back far enough, you find a Sith Lord. And these are Sith Lords with power and influence and resources. It stands to reason that The New Order, like no other government, would have the ability to track and document the movements, actions, and motivations of the remaining Jedi Masters.”

“That changes things,” Amalia said, worriedly.

“It means they’re going to find us faster,” Ahnk said. “They were always going to come for us. But now that they know where we’ve been, they can track us better. That’s not as worrying to me as this is,” Ahnk said, touching his finger to the papers. “This… misfiling… has gone on since the declaration was made. Now, I know that we concluded that if we’d seen a Cree’Ar before, we wouldn’t think much of it. But now? After he’d declared war on the galaxy?”

Amalia nodded softly, following the train of thinking. “You’d think back and remember. Know you’d seen one; tell someone.”

“So whoever changed this wasn’t one of them,” Ahnk said, and allowed the implication to go unspoken. “So now you know why I’m here. The question remains; what are you going to do about it?”

Amalia closed her eyes, inhaling as she contemplated deeply. “Alright, Ahnk. We’ll investigate your suspicions. But we have to do things my way, understand? That means we minimize the violence and try and limit the need to disrupt the processes by interrogating anyone unless absolutely necessary. Do you understand?” Ahnk nodded. “Do you agree to do whatever I tell you, when I tell you, without asking questions?”

Ahnk repeated his earlier nod, reaffirming his consent. “Where do we start?”

Amalia smiled when he asked that. “To start with, you need to drop your pants.”

Ahnk’s jaw fell out. “I’m not sure that that’s entirely appropriate, given…”

She tapped the two lightsabers together, causing a metallic clank that echoed throughout the small room. “Without question, Ahnk Rashanagok. You want to do this, we do it my way. That means you drop your pants.”

Ahnk sighed. He turned around. “I know you and Leia are friends, and she probably told you the story about her and I in the woods…” Ahnk offered, as he began to unclip his belt.

“Actually, it’s never come up,” Amalia said, curious, “but don’t worry, she’ll be filling me in the next time I see her.”

“Nerf shit,” Ahnk spat out. He didn’t like feeling helpless… or, for the vast majority of time, pantless either. But a deal was a deal, and if Amalia wanted Ahnk trekking around with his pant robes discarded, she’d get her wish. He kicked them off, then turned his head over his shoulder. “Now what?”

Amalia took a long breath before her next command. “Hands behind your head,” she said. Ahnk frowned, so she tapped the sabers together again. “Interlock your fingers, and drop down to your knees.”

Ahnk spat out his distaste in a loud snort. “I hope you’re having fun,” he said, as he knelt down as she had commanded. He assumed the position, with his hands tucked tightly behind his head, as she put on the sabers at the top of his spine.

Behind both of them, the door opened. “Alright, stay where you…” a voice began, before slowly trailing off. “Master Amalia, I was unaware that it was you. This door was bypassed, which set off an internal alarm. I would have assumed you would have simply asked us to open it for you.”

“I normally would have, but I was following this man here,” Amalia commented, and Ahnk, his face away from the proceedings, frowned deeply. “I thought it best to simply arrest him myself, rather than summon your assistance.”

“You know that we are always at your service, Master Amalia,” the guard stated. “What seems to be the problem?”

“Well, it appears that I have caught a pervert here, Sergeant,” Amalia said, causing Ahnk to softly shake his head in annoyance. “Apparently, this man here… and I do use the term man very loosely in this case… sneaks into this room to read other people’s personal files, whereupon he… well, you can imagine from his pants on the ground what the next steps are.”

“I… see. How disturbing,” the guard commented. “Would you like us to take this… thing… to the holding cells?”

“No,” Amalia commented, “no, I think I’ll take him upstairs and process him myself. Just do me a favor and code my keycard…” she said, handing him her Caprician access card, “for your security and information offices, upstairs. That way I won’t set off any more alarms.”

“Of course, Master Amalia,” the guard said, coding the key with the device attached to his wrist. He handed it back, and bowed. “May the force be with you, Master Amalia.”

“And to you, gentlemen,” she offered to the guards, bowing her head slightly as they both stepped out of the room, door closing behind them. “Alright Ahnk, you can put your pants back on now.”

“Well, that was the least fun I’ve ever had taking my pants off,” Ahnk remarked, dryly, as he stepped back into his clothes. “You could have just told them I was some sort of spy.”

“Maybe, but a spy raises red flags, and then we get watched by agents as we go about our work. Perverts don’t draw internal security,” she stated, quite correctly, then added, “besides; I enjoyed watching you squirm.”

“For a Jedi Master,” Ahnk said, clipping his belt closed again, “you are incredibly cold.”

Amalia smirked. “Grab the files, and let’s go digging.”

Zark San Tekka

Posts: 2440

For years, there had been a duality to Zark Ekan.

He had wrestled with himself, with his identity. Growing up on Coruscant with no family had not been easy. The Order had rescued him from the orphanage he had spent his adolescence in, whisked him far away from the Core to Naboo, given him a home amongst true peers. That had been his life. The life of a Jedi.

Still, as a young man he could not help but wondering about before. Before the orphanage, before his own memory of himself. He could not help but wonder what might have been. His decision to leave the Order and follow Gash Jiren had rooted this doubt of self deep within his mind. His past, his own name, had become to him a deviation from what ‘should have been’.

And so he searched, and found nothing but a name and grief. Arix Askrima. For many years those two words had driven him in a search for truth, for self. And yet, it seemed as if the more he searched, the farther he felt from any sense of the self that he had known during his training as a Jedi. He had felt lost.

On Naboo, during the fall of the Jedi Temple, he had received a vision of Luke Skywalker, a vision that had led him to the Temple’s imprint in the Force. Skywalker had said to him that one day he would have to choose. He was a man of two identities, of a duality of self, and one of these must eventually fade away.

Seated with Leia and her apprentice, dining within the bowels of the Library he had helped to restore, Zark Ekan knew that his vision had been right. He no longer thought of himself as Arix Askrima. The tantalizing mystery of what the name had once represented to him no longer held root within him. He had found no answers along that path, only more questions and a deep sense of uncertainty.

In this galaxy, there was no longer any room for uncertainty. Uncertainty, particularly uncertainty of self, could destroy you.

images fade in. fade out.

the light of the temple. outlining it another light, not brighter but subtly brilliant.

serenity gives way to terror.

a growing darkness, a shadow.

a statue immolated.

the tattooed face of a man.

a gnarled hand, grasping.

awake.

Sweat poured from his face as the Grandmaster’s eyes snapped open.

Before he realized what was happening, Zark was out of bed with his saber drawn, the humming blade giving off a brilliant glow within the dark chambers. He stood there, motionless, reaching out with the Force in all directions, yet he could detect no imminent danger. Confused, he let his muscles relax and deactivated the weapon.

Odd.

As he had emerged from sleep, he had immediately sensed a threat. Having been ambushed in his sleep enough times during the return of Thrawn, Zark had quickly learned to implicitly trust such gut feelings. This had been the first time he had ever experienced one that had turned out to be a false alarm.

Was it?

That thought disturbed him. During the guerilla resistance fighting in Orilcia, he had been but a Jedi Knight. Any looming danger could be solved rather quickly with the business end of his saber. It had been a long time since Orilcia. He was a Jedi Master, the leader of the Enclave, and (though this thought elicited an involuntary shudder) a politician, of sorts. Not all threats involved Sith Knights or Imperial stormtroopers.

“Windows, reduce opacity gradually to full transparency,” he commanded absentmindedly as he crossed his chambers to the fresher.

Along one wall, the transparisteel slowly let in a dim red glow. Looking out at the horizon, Zark noted that Adega Prime was just beginning to crest the horizon, marking Ossus’s first sunrise. He smiled softly to himself in satisfaction that his body was becoming more and more in synch with the planet’s day/night cycle.

The smile faded just a little as the Jedi remembered the game he used to play with Gash. The Rogue Jedi Master had once astounded him with his ability to point out Adega Prime and Besh’s position in the sky, no matter the time of day, whether he was inside or out, at a moment’s notice. For weeks, Zark had tested his tutor, and in his own time had practiced, intent on discovering what method Jiren had used to sense of the alignment of the stars through the Force.

After his ponderings had shown no hope of providing an answer, frustration had won over him and he had finally begged Gash to tell him how he did it. His Master’s answer, at the time, had dumbfounded him. It had not been a trick of the Force after all, Gash had just known. He had spent enough time living on Ossus that he knew where they ought to be and when they ought to be there.

The simplicity of it had embarrassed him, but to a man that had spent his entire life exploring the galaxy as a member of the Jedi Order, it had never really occurred to him that one could grow so used to their surroundings. The longest he had ever lived on one planet had been Naboo, and even then he had spent most of his time either in Otah Gunga or within the Temple, lost deep within his studies of the Force.

In a time of great strife, when Zark’s tutelage within the Order had been wrought with lightsaber drills and concentration exercises, Gash had somehow maintained a healthy appreciation for all the little things. That was what had impressed Zark the most about the man. Say what you would about his skills with a saber, his prowess for command, and his ability to organize, the fact that the man had not only been capable, but perfectly willing to stick his arms in the air like an idiot at a mere word from one of his pupils, and hold them there while that same young man had checked them for their astronomical validity, was a true testament to Gash Jiren’s character.

One day, Zark hoped to inspire that same reverence in his pupils. He just hoped that he wouldn’t have to look quite as silly doing it.

As he stepped out from the fresher and into his robes, he found himself wishing once again that this could be a sunrise he didn’t have to watch without his old friend. Time had made the pain easier to bear, and more and more when he thought of Gash he thought of little things like that, small aspects of the man’s personality that made him smile.

When people spoke of the Rogue Jedi Master, they tended to view him as more of the caricature of a movement than anything. They made him out to be more than a man, and in doing so, they lost sight of the man he really was. Mourning Gash Jiren had become more about mourning the nostalgia of things as they had been before than the death of a hero. Zark had found that, at least in his own mind, remembering fondly all of the tiny intricacies of his mentor’s personality did more justice to his memory than remembering his great accomplishments.

In the end, Gash Jiren had been just a man, the same as Zark.

His smile faltered as old wounds of guilt festered. He suffered no illusion that any action he might have taken would have saved his friend. Searthen had always been right in the thick of things; he had been almost destined to die in battle one day. What Zark truly regretted was that he had never had a chance to really say goodbye.

He had been too involved in his own search for truth; in his own obsession over the past…it had been years since the two of them had really spoken. After Thrawn had been defeated and the New Republic cleansed of his corruption, Zark had abdicated his posts within Navy and Rogue Jedi Order on an ‘indefinite personal leave’. The two of them had not said a word. Deep down, Zark knew that Gash had not tried to stop him because he had known better.

Of all people, Searthen Jiren understood the desire for truth about one’s past.

But on the surface, Zark wished that he had confronted him. That he had said something, anything. Neither of them could have known that they would never see each other again, but looking back on things he would have given anything to be able to say goodbye, to say see you around.

The lower rim of Adega Prime finally crested the horizon, and Zark knew that Besh, its binary counterpart, would not be long behind.

The day had begun.

“Again.”

It was perhaps more than a bit idiosyncratic that Zark felt most at peace in the midst of combat. Even more so than during his meditations, he found that to fight helped him concentrate, helped him think. It brought him into a state of calm unlike anything he had ever known. Ever since he had first wielded a lightsaber, Zark Ekan had been a true warrior.

Combat was his home.

There were six of them, all apprentices. It was nothing more than a sparring routine, yet each of them took it as seriously as if it were life or death. They wielding training sabers, toggled to their lowest power settings. The blades were not hot enough to melt through skin, but still gave a healthy singe upon contact, burning through the lightweight fabric of training robes.

His eyes were open, but if his irises had not been as white as his cornea they would have belied a glazed expression. It had been a long time since Zark had relied on sight to any degree in saber combat. Rather, he saw and moved through the Force. The twin sabers he wielded in each had flashed out in the peculiar rhythm that Jedi often displayed in a saber duel.

He worked their numbers to his advantage. There were only so many angles at which they could come at him without fear of wounding each other, yet his weapons flashed with a blinding speed in order to keep them at bay. They could still swarm him if he allowed them the opportunity. He would not.

This particular group had shown much promise in their skills with the ancient Jedi weapon. There was little doubt that they saw it as an honor to spar with the Grandmaster. Though he had told them as much, he doubted that they believed how much that feeling was mutual. It had been far too long since he had had the opportunity for a friendly spar, and having the opportunity had made him feel more alive again. These pupils did not know it, but he owed as much to him as he did to them.

That did not mean that he would go easy on them.

Although they were a promising group of padawans, and highly effective fighting in unison, they were only as strong as their weakest link, and Zark had no trouble discovering it and breaking it at the first opportunity. He did not have to wait long. A brash strike came, overextended and out of synch with the others. Zark’s deflection exposed the wielding arm, and a quick lash frayed a line across the student’s forearm.

It was a disabling strike, not meant to kill, but if they had not been training it would have severed the young Sullustan’s arm. The padawan quickly backed out of the area of combat, bowed low, and retreated further to the sidelines with a sulk in his stride. Only five remained.

Up until that point, there had been relatively little movement throughout the sparring chamber. Zark decided that, with fewer variables to consider, it was time that changed. He slowly moved them across the chamber. Try as they might to put a stop to it, somehow he was always able to dictate the flow of the combat, to have them striking when and where he wanted them to, and to move with him rather than against him.

Still they moved throughout the chamber, still they fought on. Zark had gotten all the way to ‘r’ before one of the students realized he was using their movement along the mat to spell his name on the floor and gave a cry of frustration. She pressed her attacks even more ferociously in an attempt to stop the mockery, and it cost her.

As she pressed in on him, he surprised her by halting his momentum and, instead of beginning work on the ‘k’ stepping into her assault, harmlessly deflecting it aside and slashing at her waist with his other saber as he passed by her. A neat horizontal line exposed her skin and reddening it with slight welts. That strike had been a killing strike, meant to split her in half.

Her frustrated mistake ended up not only cost her but one of her peers as well. As the remaining four padawans struggled to move around her to re-engage the Grandmaster, they failed to coordinate their assault properly. One padawan reached him before the others did, and, realizing his mistake, attempted to back up to correct it.

It was only two seconds before his allies caught up with him, but that was two seconds one on one against Zark’s two sabers. The Jedi Master had only needed one, and the young man bowed low as he moved off to join the Sullustan and the Twi’lek female from before, her lekku twitching in a mixture of annoyance and guilt.

It was now three against one, and the students were showing signs of fatigue. Zark had not broken a sweat, his ever-calm expression unnerving them to say the least. To their credit, they proved very adaptable at switching strategies. They formed up in perfect formation, each forming tips to a triangle in which he found himself in the center, exactly what Zark would have done had he been in their position. It allowed themselves the most comfortable area to attack while keeping him in an awkward position, always having to rush to turn and deflect the third strike.

Knowing that they understood this, he lulled them into a sense of security at remaining off balance until he found an opportunity. The first two strikes came and were deflected by his sabers. Behind him, he could sense the third strike coming wide, meant to destabilize his balance further by forcing him to move that much farther to deflect it.

It was a smart move, in theory, but in practice it left the padawan’s center exposed. Before the Trandoshan could react, Zark sent a kick snapping backwards at his midsection, the force of the blow sending him flying across the chamber and sprawled out upon the floor. This left the Grandmaster with only two opponents to worry about.

They did not last long.

Sensing that the Trandoshan was still conscious and rising, albeit groggily, to his feet, Zark belied the smallest grin upon his face. In the process of dispatching the first opponent, the Jedi Master allowed the saber on his right hand to be stripped away, eliciting a collective gasp from the onlookers and a shocked expression from his remaining opponent.

So surprised was she by this unexpected lapse in what had always seemed to them to be a flawless fighting style, she failed to take advantage of it right away, which cost her. Batting away her defense with his left hand, Zark scored an impaling strike against her breastbone. She would be feeling that bruise in the morning as a reminder not to hesitate.

But Zark had not expected too much from her. Even with one saber, he was more than a match for any of them one on one. No, what he had expected was the Trandoshan’s charge. He showed no signs of having anticipated, and the student’s eyes widened even further as they realized that, even with his unnatural speed, there was no way he could bring his left arm around fast enough to deflect a killing blow. The Trandoshan realized this too, and put all his strength into the swing.

Which was why, when the golden yellow blade emerged from his right prosthetic, the casual deflecting swipe it sent the apprentice’s way not only blocked the blow, but sent him sprawling face first into the mat. By the time he had flipped onto his back, two sabers lay inches away from his neck.

“I yield, Master Ekan,” he gasped.

“Yes, you do,” Zark laughed, deactivating both sabers and offering the padawan a hand onto his feet. He patted the embarrassed youth on the shoulder as he turned to regard the rest of the learners, “I hope that, apart from the exercise, you’ve learned some valuable lessons today.”

“Yours, my friend,” he grinned as he regarded the Trandoshan, “was to always expect the unexpected. You can never assume your opponent is defenseless. Err on the side of caution, at all times, even…no, especially when victory seems imminent. The Sith excel at treachery. And that goes the same for you,” he continue as he turned to regard young woman who had failed to react to his lapse in defense, “Just as you cannot assume the enemy is defenseless, you also must never hesitate to take advantage of their mistakes. Even a second’s hesitation can mean the loss of an opportunity.”

Looking upon the human, he said, “Yours is a basic one. Always be conscious of your surroundings, even the position of your allies. You may not have meant to rush blindly into a situation you could not handle, but intentions and actions are not always the same.”

“And as for you,” he turned to look at the twi’lek girl, his smile belying the seriousness of his tone, “never give into frustration. Your opponents will often try to taunt you, to throw you off your guard. Don’t let it work; you’ll only be letting them win. And your actions can have consequences for others as well.”

“And finally, we come to you, young padawan,” he felt a pang of sadness as he regarded the Sullustan’s expression. The apprentice had made no mistake other than a lack of experience with the lightsaber, “Your lesson is this: never let defeat shake your resolve. Only by making mistakes can we learn to correct them. There is no shame in learning.”

The Sullustan’s expression brightened somewhat, and Zark hoped that he would take the advice to heart.

“And I hope you have learned something as well,” he said at last, turning away from the padawans to face the visitor he had sensed since the beginning of the exercise. He bowed his head in respect, “Padawan Karah.”

The young woman’s eyes widened in shock as he acknowledged her. She had been watching from the doorway, at first drawn by the sounds of saber on saber and then fascinated by the combat itself. Looking upon her, Zark realized that this might very well have been the first time she had seen lightsabers in action.

Oh, to be so young again.

“You are all dismissed,” Zark nodded toward the padawans, “You may return to your duties. I thank you for the honor of sparring with you all, and may the Force be with you in your learning.”

They mumbled semi-dignified responses as one by one they made their way out of the chamber, likely eager to nurse their wounds and share their own versions of what had just occurred. The comradery they showed made Zark feel good, made him feel like this Enclave could perhaps be something like what the Order had once been.

“Alesh,” Zark called, causing the Sullustan to turn back and regard the Grandmaster, “Wait a moment, will you? I’d like to have a word with young Karah here, and then I might have a job for you.”

The padawan, eager to redeem himself, bowed low and waited outside.

“Beautiful, is it not?” he asked, and it took Karah a moment to realize she was addressing him. She stuttered for a moment, unsure of how to respond, “Lightsaber combat, I mean. A tragic necessity that it must exist, but there is an art to it as well. Sometimes I like to come down here myself, just to watch them train. To watch the patterns the blades make as they float through the air.”

“I guess I had never thought about it…Master Ekan,” Karah stammered, still unnerved at having been discovered.

“May I see yours?” Zark asked, seeming to ignore her discomfort as he gestured toward the saber hilt that clung to her belt.

“Oh…uh, of course,” she said, wondering all the while if this were some sort of test. Were Jedi never supposed to relinquish their lightsabers? She couldn’t remember Leia having said something about that, but it sounded like it might be a Jedi custom. She hesitantly placed the weapon in his hand, and calmed down a bit when she saw no accusing gleam in his eye.

“Very beautiful,” he commented, turning the blade over in his eyes as if he were an experienced collector, “It has an elegance to it. Practical, but very aesthetic.”

“I…thank you, Master Ekan,” Karah replied, beaming with pride.

“It’s Leia’s, isn’t it?” he asked, grinning.

Her eyes widened in abject horror, “I…um…yes, Master Ekan. I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” he laughed softly, his tone allaying some of her fears, “I’m sure you will construct your own in due time. Your first will be sloppy, crude, and likely more than a bit impractical, but it will be yours, and that will make it a more powerful weapon than this one ever could be.”

“I don’t understand,” she said, confused at the seeming contradiction.

“It is not the blade that wins a duel, padawan,” Zark admonished lightly, “but the Jedi. This saber is beautifully crafted, but to you it will always be your master’s saber. Having your own will give you the confidence in yourself this one never could, and that confidence can save your life. Do you have much experience with the saber?”

“Yes!” she said, a little too excitedly, “I mean, a little…not a whole lot. I’ve sparred with Natalya a few times, but it hasn’t really been a part of my training. It’s mostly been meditation and controlling my emotions and lifting things, you know?”

“I know all too well,” he grinned, “Some things change, but your Master’s approach to training I doubt ever will. After all, why try and fix what isn’t broken? Still, you’re here now, and she’s given you a blade of her own, so I doubt she’ll mind if you learn a little more about using it. Alesh! Would you come back in please?”

The Sullustan reentered the training chambers, once more bowing low.

“Alesh, this is Padawan Karah, Master Leia’s pupil from Capricia,” Zark said, motioning toward the young girl. Alesh greeted her with another low bow, “Karah, this is Alesh, one of the students here at the Library. Unfortunately, I think that it is about time I meet back up with your Master to discuss business, but if you’d like Alesh could teach you some basics and spar with you a little.”

“Master Ekan?” Alesh’s eyes widened, “Surely there are other students more…competent who could…”

“Alesh, today you are going to learn a very valuable lesson, one that took me years to learn,” Zark put a reassuring hand upon the Sullustan’s shoulder, “You can never learn everything there is to know about a subject until you start to teach it. Remember the lessons Master Okko has been teaching you, and you’ll do fine. You don’t mind, do you Karah?”

“N-no Master Ekan!” she said, eager to learn.

“I’m sure you’ll both get along famously,” Zark smiled, “I must bid both your leave now. May the Force be with you!”

“And with you,” both padawans responded in unison, and then smiled bashfully.

“Aha!” Zark said triumphantly, startling Leia out of her reverie, “I thought I’d find you here, squirreled away in some dark corner with stacks of datapads surrounding you. How goes the research? Anything promising?”

Ahnk Rashanagok

Posts: 5387

“So are you going to tell me the history between you and Organa, or am I going to have to ask her?”

Amalia was standing guard as Ahnk worked his magic on the Caprician Computer Terminal. Ahnk had several active nodes into The Commonwealth network thanks to ongoing “donations” to Vinda Corporation security, but had to be careful not to raise any red flags; simply punching in “please explain this conspiracy” into the search box wouldn’t produce the needed results, so Ahnk was working carefully to pluck the bits and pieces where he could.

“I imagine our history is no more complex then the history she has with any Sith,” Ahnk answered back, dodging the question.

Amalia grinned. “Rashanagok… that’s an interesting name. It’s not Nubian in origin.”

Ahnk nodded. “Obroan. Lowlands, if you’re curious.”

Amalia considered. “Indeed…”

She turned, beginning to put the pieces together herself. She’d never even stopped to think of Ahnk as anything but Ahnk. When he originally announced himself as the Dark Lord Of The Sith, he simply called himself Ahnk. But that name… Rashanagok… had surfaced. And it had surfaced for a reason. It wasn’t simply an assumed name…

It was a message.

When he felt he was ready to extract his revenge, Ahnk had told them exactly why he wanted that revenge.

Of course, at that time, the records of The Jedi Order were not in the greatest of shape. Amalia herself was in no position to make the connection, for she was leery of another encounter with Ahnk after their first meeting ended with Kahn in the Sith’s grasp.

But now… now she had time to think. What connection Ahnk would have to Organa. And, as he’d noted, the connection any Sith had with her would be the end of the line. But Rashanagok…

That was a more complicated story.

“Interesting,” Ahnk said, sitting back. “Come take a look at this.”

Amalia turned back, and walked towards Ahnk. “What have you found?” she asked, curious.

“It’s not so much what I found as what I haven’t found,” Ahnk said. “Read this for me.”

Amalia leaned in, reading the screen. “Ithor is the fourth planet of the Ottega System, located in the Mid Rim of the galaxy,” she read, and stopped when she reached the end of the text. “Why is that curious?”

“Doesn’t it seem a little… nondescript?” Ahnk countered.

“Maybe they just haven’t done much research there,” Amalia shrugged. “It’s outside of the Commonwealth borders, there’s no reason to study it extensively.”

Ahnk tapped a few keys. “Here’s the entry for Ottega itself. Same system, different, by all accounts, less notable planet.”

Amalia felt her eyes widen slightly in surprise. Listed amongst the data were atmospheric makeup, the calculations of the orbit around the sun and the orbit of the system’s moon, livability compatibility for various humanoid races…

“Four pages of data for a seldom mentioned rock filled with average humanoids,” Ahnk noted, “and one paragraph for Ithor. Home of the Ithorians, former charter member of The Galactic Republic, proud member of The Rebellion… and now, nothing.”

“You think it’s been deleted?” Amalia asked, following his logic.

“I know it has,” Ahnk shot back. He handed her a small piece of paper. “That terminal over there, with the black and green? Put those numbers in.”

Amalia went over to the computer terminal and saw what Ahnk was doing. He was rerouting the traffic from this office, which was closed for the afternoon, through another office which was also closed, but one which was halfway across the surface of this world. Each terminal here would register as a terminal there, as long as the routing remained undetected. “Devious,” she denoted, as she put in the numbers as instructed. “Okay, you should be online. Where do I sit?”

Ahnk pointed to an open station. “You first,” he said. “Go into the Ithorian data entry and determine when it was pruned. Doing so will set off a red flag and they’ll start tracing you, so once you open it up and have the date, pull the hardline.”

Amalia opened up the entry, then pulled up the changelog using the permissions that Ahnk had her open up. “Four years, two months,” she said, and then she reached down and pulled out the power cord of the computer, causing it to shut off almost immediately.

“Alright,” Ahnk said, pulling up a list of everything changed around the time of the Ithor article. “Okay. All references to the Ithorians have been removed; the balfor trees, the herdships… everything. Hmmm… okay, this is interesting.” Ahnk clicked the link, but the screen then gave him a big red flashing error message. He reached down and unplugged the computer as well. “Well, guess I need more clearance.”

“We’re going to run out of computers soon,” Amalia remarked at the half dim computer lab they were sitting in. Ahnk must have personally unplugged about 30 of the systems himself.

“We won’t need anymore,” Ahnk said. He slid his office chair over to a vacant terminal, then removed a small device from his wrist, which he pushed gently into an open slot on the front of the terminal. He then raised his wrist up to his mouth. “Sihoyguwa, register a positive uplink.”

“Uplink registered,” a voice spoke back through the communicator on his wrist.

“Sihoyguwa?” Amalia asked.

“Later,” Ahnk said, and then turned to the computer. “Okay. Four years and two months ago, a communiqué went out to top level Commonwealth heads. It’s locked, and I don’t have clearance for it here. Can you get me a deciphered copy on this terminal?”

“Working,” the ship replied. “Alright, should be uploading now.”

Ahnk leaned back in his chair. “To Those With Orange Level Clearance,” the memo began, “please delete all references to Project Origins. Also delete all related materials mentioned in said article. There will be a briefing regarding this material when scheduling permits. Until such time, consider all materials mentioned to be classified, and do not speak of them. This message ends.”

Amalia felt her eyes stretching even wider. “I just read it, but I refuse to believe it.”

“Something happened to them, on Ithor,” Ahnk concluded. “They went there, and something happened that convinced them never to go back.”

“What could possibly have that effect?” Amalia asked.

“Have you ever fought a Yuuzhan Vong?” Ahnk probed with a seemingly unrelated question.

“During the second invasion,” Amalia noted. “Ugly times, those wars.”

“Ever kill one?” Ahnk asked. Amalia nodded. “Ever do it in hand to hand combat? One on one?” Amalia didn’t answer. “Yeah, me neither. But I’ve fought them. They’re savages, and they’ll go to any length to kill or maim their opposition. They’re bloodthirsty subhuman killing machines. And The Caprician Regency stood tall, not only fighting the Yuuzhan Vong, but beating them back to where they came from. And if they did that, standing brave and tall against that kind of opposition, god help us all that they’re afraid of anything.”

“I wish I could tell them more,” Amalia said, with a sigh.

“There is nothing to tell,” Ahnk denoted. “We don’t know anything except that there is something that we don’t know. An absence of knowledge is not in and of itself an indication of anything other than attempts to cover something up. For all we know, the Capricians fought a secret war and are simply keeping it under wraps.”

“But that’s not what you think,” Amalia said, looking at his hardened expression.

“I don’t know what to think,” Ahnk told her. He watched Natalya Vinda, anxiously, as she got aboard the shuttle, casting one look back before she did. She was attuned to The Force and knew she was being watched… but Ahnk was in control of The Force, and able to keep her eyes well away from his. “All I know is that it isn’t safe here. Not with the possibility of some sort of infiltration. Regardless of who is making the changes on the computer systems, and for what reason, that probe in space is enough to give me pause. If the Cree’Ar want to know where the Jedi are, then watching us come, and go, from Capricia will tell them everything they need to know.”

Amalia hesitated to ask the next question. “Is there a safe haven for the Jedi anymore?”

Ahnk turned to her and grinned. “If Zark Ekan, Amalia Azalin, Organa Solo, and Andrew Rashanagok can’t make you feel safe, then safe just isn’t going to happen,” he said, and Amalia smiled as well. “Ossus is about to become the safest planet in the galaxy.”

”Are you going to kill her?”

The question was the first word to pierce the air in days. The journey from Capricia to Ossus was not normally so long, but Ahnk had chartered his flight plan to match that of the shuttle carrying Leia’s husband, and he had decided to travel normal commercial hyperlanes.

Ahnk had spent much of the time as he usually did; sorting out the echoes of the lives, and the lies, he had stored in his memory. Ahnk remembered dying on four separate occasions, which meant he was on at least his fifth incarnation. Sorting out what had happened to who, and when, and why, was a complex task; he would likely spend the rest of his fifth incarnation without answers to some of his own questions.

Then Amalia had offered a new one.

“Organa, you mean?” Ahnk responded, allowing his eyes to open. The other Jedi Master was sitting across the hold of his ship, looking directly at him. He had offered that not so much as a question, but an affirmative that he had heard her.

“She said, before she left, that she felt you had ‘unfinished business’ with her,” Amalia noted, recalling the conversation. “I get the feeling she’s not talking about hedge funds and her stock portfolio. She described the feeling she had of you, to the feeling Luke Skywalker had, of Darth Vader. Of a need to confront the past… confront the darkness.”

Ahnk nodded softly. “Perhaps,” he offered in counter, “you should be asking her if she intends to kill me.”

Amalia sighed. “You’re a mystery, Ahnk,” she said, leaning forward. “I can’t read you; can’t determine what is inside that head of yours.”

Ahnk sat up. “Is that what you want?” he asked her, cautiously. “Consider carefully before you answer. There is an old saying, Amalia, on darkness; ‘careful he who studies evil, for he too is studied by evil’.”

She frowned. “Are you still evil, Ahnk? Are you still the same man?”

Ahnk offered no more words; instead, he held out his hand.

Amalia had always been curious; it had perhaps caused her distress in the past. Some said she cared too much. That sometimes she did not let go of a situation, and became too invested. Some pointed to her flirtations with the darkness as evidence of such. Some questioned whether she was capable of drawing the line.

On this day, the lure of the skull of Ahnk Rashanagok was too much. She slid her hand into his, feeling instantly a transference of energy between them; like tiny arks of lightning from his veins into hers, she felt the energy travel up her body…

Then, she shuddered. She was in the woods…

Naboo. She knew this place. She was in the woods, on Naboo…

She saw a hunter ahead. Mandalorian Armor. Looked like the galaxies most famous bounty hunter, outside of Beff Pike. Beneath him knelt a small boy, clutching to the wrist of a man lying face down in the mud.

“Take solace in this,” the hunter offered, voice distorted through the vokoder that filtered each of his breaths. “Life, in all its cruelness and harshness, is nothing if not fair.”

The boy turned to Amalia, and she saw that his face was covered in black and green tattoos.

She shuddered again as the world exploded into sharp white light. She saw her hand outstretched… pointed at a robed warrior. The shimmering white robes stood in contrast to the woods behind…she’d not have recognized the warrior but for those tattoos. She was… crushing his throat. She was using The Force to force his windpipe closed… but he was stronger, pushing himself up. He snarled, and reached his hand out. Wisps of fire danced from the tips of his fingers… they wrapped themselves around her body…

She could feel the intensity of it… the sensation of burning… she felt every inch of herself on fire. But through the haze of the fire, she saw something else. With each crackle of a flame, and each hiss of a jet of smoke, more and more her vision of the warrior beyond clarified.

It wasn’t Ahnk at all.

It was Organa.

Amalia shuddered once again under the force of another bright white flash. When she came to her senses, she realized she was falling… she tried to move her legs, but realize she could not.

Only when she landed, did she realize why she could not feel her legs. Only when she landed, with a soft, wet thud, in the blood pool caused from severing her torso from her legs, did she understand…

She shuddered and pushed Ahnk away. Ahnk hit the back of the ship with a hard thud, the metal of it denting against the force. He reached immediately for his head, but made no countering action.

Amalia, meanwhile, simply stared at her hand. On it was burned the mark of the Sith Warrior; the Korriban Sun. Each Sith Warrior had the symbol branded on their hand with their ascension to Sith Lord. She watched as it slowly disappeared, with the regular tone and texture of her flesh slowly returning…

Then she turned to Ahnk. “You… always see that?”

Ahnk nodded. “Everything all of the time,” he said. “What did you see?”

She struggled to sort it out. “I saw… you, as a boy. Organa… and fire… pain… death…”

Ahnk sat forward a bit more. “Followed by the faces of the dead. Their last words, and the reasons why I killed them. A constant reminder of what I’ve done, who I’ve been, and who I am.”

“But under such torture,” Amalia remarked, still reeling from the sensation herself, “how can you be anything else? You must live in constant pain.”

Ahnk didn’t acknowledge that, except to say, “There is a price to pay for living forever.” He turned his eyes up to hers. “If death should offer you its warm embrace, I suggest from experience that you take it, and be done with it.”

That morose statement created a stalemate of silence that lasted hours…

It only broke when Ahnk checked in with Chang. “Any sign of gravimetric anomalies?”

“Nothing so far,” he said. “Meanwhile, we have Organa Solo, her pupil, her husband, and the lady Vinda all meeting on the surface. I haven’t been scanning the planet since they could probably detect me if I did something stupid like that, but I imagine it’s logical that they can sense you.”

Ahnk nodded. “This world is strong with The Force,” he noted. “Sensing me, and sensing that I am here, can sometimes be confused by echoes from the past.”

Amalia turned to him and laughed. “That will buy you a few seconds to hide,” she said. “We might as well set down. Once Organa detects either of us, she’ll wonder why we snuck in on a cloaked Sith Infiltrator rather than just take the shuttle with Tyschio.”

“If we’d done that, we wouldn’t have been able to have this little chat,” Ahnk stated. “She’s right, though, Sihoyguawa; bring us in, the usual landing pad.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Amalia let slip, “how is Irtar Mal’Gro? It has been some time since he and I have seen one another. I had heard that you had taken him under your wing?”

Ahnk stopped what he was doing, and considered. “Yes,” he said, recalling his time spent in the mountains of Sinsang, “he is learning much. Both about being a Jedi, and being more.”

Amalia raised an eyebrow at that statement. “Being more?”

Ahnk nodded. “The Rogue Jedi such as myself are a dying bread,” he stated. “We are born in fire, and carry that fire forward as a fight to make a better future. But when the fighting stops, that future will need to be crafted, and nurtured, for the future generations of Jedi to live in peace, content with the world they have created. For that, you must be more than just a warrior. You must be a scholar… a healer… an artisan and politician… you must be more than all things. You must be better than just one thing.”

Amalia nodded in understanding. “You place much faith in him,” she said.

“No more than he has earned,” Ahnk returned. “He is a better Jedi now than I ever was, and he grows better still each day.”

Amalia was satisfied with that answer. “He was very… troubled, during his time on Naboo.”

Ahnk smiled at her. “He is still troubled,” he stated, “but he lives in troubled times. To accept the chaos around purely to have peace within is doing a disservice to those around. Irtar feels; he cannot not.”

Amalia nodded, not intent to fight. “Your way, Ahnk, is so different from ours. I wonder sometimes what the future holds for you…”

“And yet,” Ahnk said, spreading his arms, “here we are. We take such different paths, but The Force makes them all into but one path. All roads lead to Ossus, Amalia.”

“Perhaps,” she said. She raised the cloak over her head, and turned to begin walking. “I’m going to find Organa.”

“I’ll follow,” Ahnk offered, “since she’s with Ekan. We might as well get the group hug out of the way.”

She glared at him as he pulled the black hood over his bald skull and began walking as well.

Leia Organa Solo

Posts: 1584

As the morning had worn on, Karah had joined Leia in the library for lack of anything better to do. However, there was little for the Padawan to do in the Library besides fetch holocrons and distract Leia…

She presently sat in a chair nearby her Master, browsing through a holocron chronicling the History of the Jedi Order that she had found in Leia’s discard pile. The history did not seem to be a very complete one; it failed to cover any events before Leia’s founding of the new Jedi Order on Naboo.

It was common knowledge that Luke Skywalker had been trained by the great Jedi Master Yoda, but Leia’s own past seemed ambiguous at best. Karah studied her closely, Leia seemingly unaware of her Padwan’s scrutiny as she examined the holocron she held.

“Master Leia, who trained you to be a Jedi?”

“My brother” Leia answered simply, not looking up from her work.

“And Yoda trained him?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think the way you train Jedi… is a lot like the way Yoda used to?” Karah pressed on, partly out of boredom.

“Probably,” Leia answered absently.

“Then… how did some of your old students turn into Sith?” Karah asked, suddenly regretting that she had asked the question at all as she realized that it could possibly be a sore subject for a Master.

Leia sighed, and set aside her work to address her Apprentice.

“Masters tend to blame themselves when someone they have trained turns towards the Dark Side. Even when we know it is rarely the fault of the Master or the method of training used. Usually, there is a unique set of circumstances which lead to the turn. Ahnk’s story is a perfect example…

His mother was one of my students at the Academy on Naboo, long before you were born. Her name was… Andrea. We both knew that her son Ahnk… well, Andrew, had Force potential. His first exposure to the Force was through the Jedi and the Academy, through his mother and me…”

“So you trained Ahnk?” Karah interrupted.

“No, I believed he was too young to begin formal training. At the time, I could only afford to train students who were old enough and strong enough to defend themselves. I was the only Master at the Academy with only a few Knights to support me, and we lived under the constant threat of Sith Attack. I just didn’t have a choice… I couldn’t risk a child getting hurt because we couldn’t look after them properly.”

“Why didn’t you train him when he was old enough?” Karah prompted.

“I never had the opportunity to” Leia answered, a tone of regret detectable in her voice.

“One day when Andrew was still very young, his mother approached me about Andrew moving to the Academy to begin very basic Jedi training.”

“Andrea, right?”

“Yes. I was concerned that we would not be able to provide the level of care a child of Andrew’s age required, but she wanted to be closer to her son. She was worried about him… worried his father could sway him down a dark path. She promised that she would keep a close eye on him. I agreed to consider it, but I wanted to speak with him first…

On her way to pick him up to meet me, Andrea ran into a Sith in the woods. She knew how to wield a lightsaber effectively, but she was still just a Padawan, the Sith was too strong for her. I’m not sure why, but she refused to run… she didn’t survive the resulting lightsaber fight.”

Leia paused for a sip from her mug.

“Apparently that same day, a bounty hunter killed Andrew’s father as well.

I can’t imagine anything more traumatic for a child than losing both of your parents at once. He must have felt lost, alone, scared… angry. I tried to find him as soon as I heard the news, but he had simply vanished. I am sure he learned to deal with his anger by blaming me for his parent’s death. I was the leader of the Jedi and the Republic, directly responsible for his mother and indirectly responsible for the safety of all civilians within the Republic’s borders. He probably convinced himself that I had failed ultimately at all of responsibilities, and that I deserved to die.”

“How could you know that?” Karah’s expression was skeptical.

“Because he tried to kill me, several times.”

“…oh.”

“Anyways, I am sure the Sith took full advantage of those feelings when they found him. He became a powerful Sith, and in a way… I contributed to his rise through his hatred of me. Hatred, is the main source of a true Sith Lord’s power.”

Leia fell silent, apparently finished with her story. This allowed Karah’s mind to wander to other curiosities brought forth by Leia’s story…

“So how did Ahnk get all of those clones of himself?”

Leia shook her head, her patience starting to wear thin. “I have no idea. Maybe the answer is in one of the holocrons lying around here. Or, you can just ask him yourself one day.”

“Doesn’t… he still want to kill you?” Karah seemed uncertain.

Leia silently retrieved her work from the table, reluctant to give an answer she was not yet sure of herself. “I don’t know what he might want to do to me should we meet, but he would not hurt you or anyone else. He is a Jedi now.

I have a lot to finish here… why don’t you spend the rest of the morning exploring the Temple? It wouldn’t hurt for you to familiarize yourself with your surroundings, and maybe meet some of the other Apprentices. I am sure everyone else is up by now; you might be able to watch some of the morning training exercises.”

“Yes, Master.” Keia nodded to Leia and then took her leave from the Library. It was not long before she found herself in the training areas, where she encountered Zark…

“Well…” Alesh started as Master Ekan walked away, “I suppose you’ll need a training saber first.” He lead Karah over to a large rack of them. “When picking a training saber, you need to pick one similar to your real saber. Balancing is very important – look for one of similar length, diameter, and weight. An accomplished Jedi can pick up any blade and do well, but especially at first balancing plays a very big part in learning to handle the blade without hurting yourself. May I see your saber?”

Karah handed over the blade, with much less reluctance this time. “Isn’t there some secret rule about not handing over your weapon?” She asked jokingly, watching the Sullustan examine her saber.

“Not really.” Alesh began to compare her lightsaber to different training saber hilts. “We are Jedi – in most cases, just because an object is not physically in our hands does not mean we do not still have complete control over that object.”

“Right…” Karah mumbled, recalling her conversation with Zark a few moments ago. “The whole lifting things exercise…”

“What?” Alesh asked, finally selecting a blade he felt was comparable to Karah’s.

“Nothing” Karah replied dismissively as she accepted the training blade and fell into step behind Alesh.

“So, how much practice do you have with the lightsaber?” Alesh asked as he lead the way towards an open practice area.

“Not much” Karah replied, a bit of a disparaged tone in her voice. “Master Leia has focused mostly on meditation and awareness exercises… and lifting things.”

“Well, let’s see what you can do with your lightsaber.” Alesh activated his own lightsaber, and adopted a defensive stance. “Try and break my defenses.”

Karah activated her own saber and adopted a basic ready stance, her stance wide with her saber held in front of her.

This was going to be a very short demonstration, she thought to herself.

***

Zark managed to startle Leia, but not so much that she wasn’t able to summon a quick response…

“Did you know there are fifteen different species of Ossian forest camels? They are rumored to come out of their dens only at night, and they like to have their tongues rubbed by humans…”

Zark frowned. “What? There aren’t any camels on…”

“Their saliva is known to have healing properties similar to bacta…” she continued, ignoring him.

“Leia…” Zark said firmly, beginning to wonder what chemicals the kitchen had spiked her tea with…

“Just kidding.” Leia was unable to suppress a laugh as she set the holocron she had been holding on a nearby table. “I think I am finished in here. It is about time we caught up on Jedi business, anyways.”

Together, Zark and Leia gazed out the broad windows of the Council room. With the exception of the two Masters, the room was otherwise empty.

“So you will help us, then?” Zark asked, his gaze unwavering as he studied the familiar sight of the temple spread out below them.

“Of course” Leia replied, her expression growing troubled. “But… I have to face Ahnk, and soon; the Force wills it. As long as a rift exists between us, the Jedi will never stand truly united.”

“And you won’t let me help you?” Zark pressed.

“No. This is just between him… and me” Leia declared quietly.

Zark San Tekka

Posts: 2440

“Good!” Alesh said, smiling as the two broke apart after yet another exercise, “You are a quick learner. Your strength in the Force is natural. I envy you…”

The Sullustan broke off, wiping the sweat from his brow in as much an effort to hide the pained expression on his face as much as anything else. He had not meant to speak those last words, they had just come out. Silently he cursed himself for his lack of self-discipline. Yet another failing…

“Are you alright?” Karah asked, the worry apparent in her voice as Alesh turned away from her, attempting to reign in his emotions, “Did I do something wrong?”

“Nothing,” the young Jedi said a bit too quickly, “You’ve done nothing wrong. Forgive me, I should return to my duties.”

“Wait!” she called out as Alesh moved for the exit. He froze in his tracks, but did not turn around, “Did I do something to offend you? I’m a little…new to this.”

He sighed, and the pain was evident. If he left without explaining, she would think it was her fault. He did not want to make her feel guilty, but to express his own self-doubts was to admit a most basic failure as a Jedi. He was not in control of his own emotions.

“I…I am sorry,” he said at last, still not turning to look at her, “I did not mean…I am…envious…of you. You are like the others. They are all so strong in the Force, such naturals at everything they do. But I…”

He hung his head in shame, attempting to hold back tears of frustration. His eyes widened as he felt the pressure of her hand upon his shoulder, and for a moment he thought to pull away, but there was a comfort there that he had not felt since…

“It’s alright,” Karah said, softly, “We’re both only beginners, we have time to learn.”

“Time?” Alesh echoed, a hint of bitterness cropping into his tone, “Maybe you have time. I don’t know what it’s like where you come from, but look around you. Can you not see? We are at war. The Enclave has run out of time. If I don’t learn quickly enough…if I’m not good enough…”

This time he did pull away, but gently. He gripped the training saber in his hand so tightly he was afraid it might break.

“When my parents found out I was sensitive, we fled Sullust,” his voice seemed distant, mechanical, as if he was trying not to think about what he was saying, “They didn’t want the Jedi Corps. to pick me up, to indoctrinate me, but they didn’t want to risk escaping Empire space either. If they catch you trying to cross borders, especially as non-humans…so they tried to get me as far away from the Core as they could. Bandomeer seemed like a good option. Even if they did find me, enough credits and you can bribe just about any Borderlands official.

When they heard about Ossus, about the Enclave, they spent nearly every credit they had saved up to send me here. I didn’t want to leave them…but they wanted something better for me. I couldn’t disappoint them. When word finally got to us about the Reavers…about the Borderland, Master Ekan told me not to give up hope, that there was a chance they made it offworld in time. But they spent everything they had so that I could come here, so that I could be a Jedi, and they were non-humans…”

He couldn’t speak another word. Why had he said all that? He didn’t even know this woman. He hadn’t even spoken of his family to his closest friends since the Reavers. His emotions raged inside him like wildfire, he needed to get out of here, to meditate.

“I’m sorry…” Karah said. What else could she say? The look of shock on her face at his sudden confessions made him feel even guiltier.

“No, I am sorry,” he said, once more turning away, “I did not mean to…forgive me. I must go meditate.”

“Alesh!” she called out, and the Sullustan paused at the doorway, glancing back at her, “May the Force be with you.”

“And you, Padawan Karah,” Alesh replied, his eyes sad, “And with us all. We are going to need it.”

And then he was gone, leaving her alone in the training room.

For a long while, neither of them spoke. They just stood there, gazing out upon the city of Knossa below them, each lost in their own separate thoughts. Leia had given him much to think about, so much so that he felt as if it would be weeks before his mind had worked through it all, and she hadn’t been here but two days.

Andrew Rashanagok was an enigma to Zark. He had heard the man’s alter ego spoken of often, and each time the opinions had been radically different. Was he a monster or a gallant? Perhaps both. Perhaps neither. Ahnk was a wildcard.

Thoughts whispered in his mind from somewhere else, and his eyes widened. He sent instructions back through the Force and into the mind of the sender.

Zark did know one thing about Ahnk.

He was at his front door.

“You might get that opportunity sooner than you think,” he said aloud, drawing Leia from her reverie. She looked at him questioningly, “He’s on his way to the Library right now, and someone else is with him. OrilSec face IDed him leaving Orilcia Spaceport with an unidentified female one minute ago.”

Ahnk Rashanagok

Posts: 5387

“In umbris potestas est,” a voice offered from outside the room, filling it with sound other than the padawan’s breathing. “Et ragneum in potestas.”

Karrah reached out with the force as she looked out with her eyes. “Who said that?” she asked of the empty space around. “Who are you?”

A figure slowly appeared from the hallway beyond. “I am the man your Master warned you about,” he offered, bowing his head in greeting.

“You’re Ahnk Rashanagok?” she asked, somewhat nervously.

The figure removed his hood, revealing pale, bald flesh beneath. “One and the same,” he said, folding his hands in front of him. “We’ve not been formally introduced, Karah. My name is Andrew Micheal Rashanagok, but if you prefer to call me Ahnk, I answer to that name as well.”

She relaxed a little. “Why were you sneaking up on me?”

Ahnk smirked. “I wasn’t sneaking up on you,” he said. “I walk softly and you were distracted. I can see how you would feel I was sneaking around, but I had no intention to frighten you.”

“I wasn’t frightened,” she said, resolved.

Ahnk raised his hands slightly, defensively. “Poor choice of words,” he said, folded his arms behind his back, and then began walking in the room.

“What you said before…” Karah said, remembering the first things she’d heard from him. “What was that?”

“The words, or the language?” Ahnk asked, eyeing her.

“Both,” she said. “I want to know what you said, and I want to know why you chose to say it in a language other than basic.”

“It loses something in the translation,” Ahnk said, then closed his eyes. “In umbris potestas est; in ragneum potestas. Sounds much better in its original tongue.”

“Original tongue?” Karah asked.

“Krathari,” Ahnk said, wandering back. “It was once referred to as the Golden Script, the Ancient Tongue, or the Original Tongue, depending on who you ask. If Organa heard it, she might recall it as a different language entirely; she might tell you it was the language of the Sith.”

“You know how to speak Sith?” Karah said, part question, part surprise. She didn’t know anyone who had claimed to, or who she knew were able to.

“Speaking Sith is not factually accurate,” Ahnk said. “There is no ‘Sith language’, such as it were. Different Sith spoke different tongues. Krathari simply evolved from the Krath language, which made its way into the spoken vernacular of the students of Freedon Nadd and their Golden Empire Of The Sith. Sith of different origins, or those who predated the formation of the Brotherhood Of The Sith under Exar Kun, spoke different languages, or different variations of the same root language. Things also evolve and change over time… words are lost, added, changed. Krathari, such as it were, is more a legend than a language now… very few can still speak it fluently.”

She nodded, following his extrapolation. “And what did it mean?”

“In the darkness, there is strength,” Ahnk answered, translating, “so build your kingdom in the shadows.”

Karah shook her head, crossing her arms across her chest. “That sounds like something a Sith would say,” she shot back.

“Perhaps,” Ahnk said, still circling, “but there is logic in it as well. As long as we stand in the light, we are exposed. We live in an era where we are hunted for the electricity in our blood. If we do not hide, we may very well all die.”

“You would hide from a fight?” Karah asked. “I was not told you were a coward.”

Ahnk’s smile grew wider. “It is not cowardly to avoid being killed,” he said. “I would always prefer to strike my enemy before he strikes me. Such an action increases the chances I survive. Facing danger head on is often a good way to get killed.”

Karah relaxed her posture slightly. “Leia told me no to be afraid of you, as you were now a Jedi and would not hurt me,” she stated, “but I am not altogether convinced, what with that you have been saying.”

Ahnk’s smile softened slightly. “Does she talk about me often?”

In contrast, Karah’s stance hardened, and her glare indicated she would not dignify that question with an answer.

Ahnk’s smile turned slightly, becoming more of a smirk. “Too many people give the Sith a bad rap,” he said, drawing a raised eyebrow from Karah. “You can argue with the end result, and for obvious reason, but much of the underlying philosophy is actually very much progressive, and introspective; completely without violent or malevolent intent.” Ahnk closed his eyes, reaching back for the strands needed to complete the translation. “Umbris est, tibi ipsi fidelis esto, nosce te ipsum, umbria aeternus.”

Karah was not immediately swayed. “And what does that mean?”

“Our strength is internal,” Ahnk translated. “To know thyself, and to thine own self be true, may our strength be eternal.” He opened his eyes once again, and his smile softened once more. “Now tell me that isn’t a philosophy that could help any Jedi.”

“I don’t think you came to Ossus to discuss philosophy with me,” Karah stated somewhat sternly.

“No, you’re right,” Ahnk said, nodding. He circled her a bit more before stopping, coming to a rest in his previous position with hands behind his back. “You’re dropping your shoulder.”

“Pardon me?” Karah asked, somewhat confused.

“Your lower over guard,” Ahnk said, gesturing with his hands. “When you have his saber trapped in your over guard, you’re leaning into it too much. It causes your shoulder to drop, which opens you up for a roundhouse kick to the head.”

Karah's stance became even colder. "I doubt any human could make such a kick," she said, and Ahnk offered his hand. "You want to shake my hand?"

"I want to prove an error in your ways," he said. He reached behind his back with his other hand and grabbed a lightsaber. He continued until he had discarded three of the weapons. "I am now unarmed, so you have nothing to fear of me."

"Again, I'm..."

"...not afraid," Ahnk finished her sentence. "Leia must not have told you much about me, then."

The two shared a terse glare, neither wavering. "She told me I could trust you not to hurt me," Karah said, as she took his hand, "and I trust her with my life."

Ahnk nodded, smiling slightly. "You choose your friends well," he said, then guided her hand down. "Master Organa is one of the most experienced Jedi Masters the galaxy has. You could certainly do worse."

Karah nodded. "What are you doing, anyway?"

"Your lower over guard," Ahnk said. "Bend more."

Karah followed his thought process and turned her wrists, to put her hands on top of Ahnk's, as if she were holding his saber down, with her own blade above it. "Like this?"

"Indeed," Ahnk said. Karah suddenly felt a tap on her shoulder, and when she turned, she saw that it was Ahnk's foot. "You see? I retain the flexibility required to tap you on the shoulder; if I can do this, I can bury my toe into the back of your brain."

Karah broke her stance and resumed her normal standing posture. "You couldn't do it in actual combat," she said. "You'd leave yourself with too precarious a balance."

"On the contrary; judoku encourages that when one applies force in one direction to move with it, rather than against it," Ahnk pointed out. "Your pushing down with the saber draws your shoulders down and my arms down, but the natural cyclical motion of the hip is to push the leg up. It flows better than you might think."

Karah nodded, following the principal. "I've not learned judoku."

"You are still young," Ahnk offered in reply. "Always be mindful as well, that the limitations you place on yourself are not the same as others are confined to. Saying something like 'no human' implies you will only ever fight humans. The work of a Jedi brings us to many worlds with various life forms. We cannot always count on our contacts there being human."

She nodded again. "I understand," she said. "I am not sure if I can weave what you've offered into anything practical."

"I'm not here to instruct you," he said, waving his hand slightly. "Ne porvivajo nur mortigi tempo."

Karah rolled her eyes at more foreign language interjection. "And what did that mean?"

"This isn't really living, it's just killing time," Ahnk translated. "I hate... waiting. Don't you?" Karah nodded. "Would you be interested in sparring? Maybe we can hone in on some more of your unusual leans..."

Leia Organa Solo

Posts: 1584

Although the Temple’s guards had reported the arrival of two visitors, only a single brown robed figure entered the council room to greet Zark and Leia. The figure’s identity was masked underneath the robe’s deep hood, and for a moment nothing happened as the three stood regarding each other in silence.

Leia found herself unable to identify the Force presence of the robed individual. Zark’s ‘crystal’ tree muddled the Force with hundreds of presences from the past, and it tended to overwhelm the senses of those who were not acclimated to it. Leia found walking around with the sensation that Gash Jiren was stalking only a foot behind her to be quite disconcerting, particularly when she was undressing or in the shower. But Zark had assured her that as a Master, she would acclimate in good time.

Even tomorrow wouldn’t be soon enough, Leia thought as she gazed at the figure before her.

Zark however, had no trouble identifying the individual before them. “Master Amalia…? Welcome to the Temple”

Amalia threw back her hood to reveal a smile on her face, and surprised Zark by surging forward to envelope him in a warm, quite informal hug.

“Please, it’s just Amalia.”

“Of course, it has been too long! How are the kids?”

“Good! All grown up now… it’s hard to believe. I don’t get to see them much; they’ve all gone their own ways. Lono is very strong in the Force now… ”

There was an uncomfortable pause, as an inevitable question hung in the air; unasked.

“I don’t know how, but none of them fell to the Dark side.” Amalia had anticipated the unease. “Even when Malice tried to…” she trailed off, her eyes suddenly distant as if a memory flashed before them. Only a small handful of people even knew of that memory…

A long time ago, Amalia had sacrificed her own purity… to save the purity of her children. The deed had come at great personal cost; a cost so high that Amalia had assumed the name Bella Laurent and exiled herself from The Jedi Order. When she had finally emerged from hiding, it had been to find Leia.

“Because they are a lot like you” Leia declared knowingly, and the uncomfortable moment passed.

“I recall seeing Lono during the Sith attack on Theed… very brave boy, you would have been proud.” Zark’s unexpected compliment teased a smile out of Amalia once again. “The Temple is always open to your family, should they ever have the need.” Zark turned, and gestured to the circle of empty chairs that dominated the center of the council room. “Come sit, I’ll have some drinks sent up. I am curious to find out what brings you here, Amalia.”

“And we can also discuss where Ahnk seems to have wandered off to unannounced.” Leia demanded bluntly, skipping right to the heart of the matter.

Zark glanced over at Amalia, who did not seem perturbed by Leia’s unusual lack of patient diplomacy. Rather, on the contrary…

“Leia, you’ve been vacationing on Capricia too long… your diplomatic skills are about as sharp as a rusty spoon.”

“I can still hurt you with a rusty spoon…” Leia shot back, causing Amalia to smirk.

“Maybe if you weren’t half crazy! Your husband is still on Capricia scratching his head as to why exactly you had to take a short notice trip to Ossus.” Amalia adopted a more serious expression. “I’m still a little unclear on that myself, actually. You said… the Force was drawing you to Ahnk, and then you announced a sudden sight-seeing tour to Ossus. No offense Zark, but I don’t think you were the priority either. What exactly did you expect to find here, Leia?”

“I don’t know,” Leia admitted. “The Force guided me here. I thought maybe there would be something in the archives Zark saved from Naboo, but…” Leia shrugged.

“Well” Amalia said in a calculative tone. “Tyscio made me promise not to tell you first because he wanted to do it, but… a couple of days ago Ahnk broke into the house. I guess he never heard of knocking, came right through the front door. Broke your favorite vase, that one that always sits on the table in the hallway. Er wait, maybe Tyscio hit it when he fell…”

“WHAT!?” Leia’s outburst was nearly a shriek, and she had vaulted out of her chair to hover ominously over Amalia. “Did he…?”

“Everyone is fine, the kids are safe. He didn’t hurt anything… well, except for the vase.”

“Why?” Leia breathed, lowering herself into a crouch beside Amalia’s chair. “What was he doing on Capricia?”

“He was looking for you. Remember when you told me that you felt like you were being pulled towards him?” Amalia met Leia’s intense gaze evenly. “I… think he feels the same thing about you.”

“Where is he?” Leia demanded again.

“He sort of slipped away on the way up here, I think we were passing the training rooms. Said something about not liking group hugs… I don’t know where exactly he went, there’s something weird about the Force here… it’s clouding my senses.”

“I can explain about that if you like,” Zark offered as Leia rose to leave. “I get the feeling that Leia and Ahnk might like to spend a few moments alone before we join them.”

***

“Stop swinging like that, you look like a blindfolded child trying to hit a piñata with a stick.”

Karah involuntarily cringed at the chastisement, and returned to her ready stance. “But my strikes have no power, how will they ever be effective in a duel?”

Ahnk moved forward, and readjusted Karah’s stance to a traditional Judoku ready stance as he spoke. “You have no control over the blade when you swing like that. After your muscles have mastered the movement, after the movement has been beaten and ingrained into them, the power will come naturally. Right now, we are more concerned with you not lopping your own leg off with your blade.”

Ahnk leapt backward with a grace that defied his appearance, and brandished his own lightsaber.

“Again.”

Before Karah could lunge forward to complete the series of strikes as instructed, Leia entered the practice area in a flurry of white robes.

“Andrew Rashanagok… I see you have taken the liberty of introducing yourself to my Apprentice.”

Ahnk Rashanagok

Posts: 5387

It was then that Leia arrived; to say that she made a scene would be an overdramatization but she did not want to settle silently into the background either. She announced her presence long after her presence announced her presence, but Karah was focused on other things, so likely hadn't noticed.

She turned in a hurry, however. "Master Organa, I was just..."

"...she was just broadening her perspectives when it comes to interpersonal combat; myself, and a student of Master Ekan's tutelage, saw areas in which we could offer advice," Ahnk stepped in, not wanting anything to be misconstrued. "After all, isn't that why we're gathered here in this... impromptu group therapy session? To share our resources and our knowledge for the mutual benefit of all?"

Leia simply glared at him. Her expression said it all. I don't know, Ahnk, why did you come?

"Well," Ahnk said, in response to her cold stare, "perhaps there is more here for some of us... more questions than simply the exopolitical."

Her expression changed slightly; almost an unnoticed gesture, and had Ahnk not known it was coming, he'd not have spotted it. Amalia was a dear friend, but she was also a concerned friend. She couldn't hide her emotions anymore than she could stop feeling them.

So Ahnk knew that Leia's visit here was about more than just seeing the sights and reconnecting over a caffeinated beverage. She was here for personal reasons. What those reasons were, Ahnk wasn't sure. He wasn't sure that she was sure. He was only sure that he wasn't sure. But that he was very sure of.

Uncertainty did not agree with Ahnk Rashanagok; he liked control. Control could be meted out to those he trusted, but he was not sure he could trust Organa Solo. They had history. She'd seen the blackened face of evil, and whether she saw Ahnk as a man of pale skin or of green ink remained to be seen. If she saw evil in his eyes, she would likely kill him.

In that event, Ahnk could not trust her. Not completely.

But Ahnk knew, looking at her, steeled resolve and frowning features, that he couldn't control her either.

That presented itself as further uncertainty.

But Ahnk was spinning wheels now and saw that those assembled were looking at him expectantly. "Perhaps," Ahnk said, "it might be more prudent if... Karah, I believe her name was... watched from the sidelines as two more experienced warriors did battle? Non-lethal combat, of course, unless you want to explain to Zark Ekan where the bloodstains in his new training room mats came from."

Ahnk grabbed the saber at his back and, almost absentmindedly, cast it aside, letting it bounce off the wall and land at the edge of the mat that nearly filled the room.

"Maybe a little exertion is just what you need to take that frown off your face," Ahnk said, twisting and cracking his neck as he begin to stretch out his joints.