A Young Girl’s War Between the Stars
67
Jedha System. 36 BBY/964 GSC.
Leading Allaya and Asajj through the ship, I winced as we passed a decontamination crew hosing down the walls and ceiling. A couple of Mandos swept the hallway with tools on the end of rods, while small droids slipped into the vents to use very similar tools mounted on them.
After I’d managed to get my body under control, restoring order to the ship had just been a matter of finding a way to break down the residual contaminant sticking to everything. For that, Cindy had gotten together with the Redoubt’s engineering and maintenance departments and they’d put together some new tools.
As it turned out, the chemical compound that made up my pheromones was vulnerable to the same things as most biologically derived chemicals: heat, UV, and the sonics used in a sonic scrubber all worked well. So they had rigged up some UV, IR, and sonic emitters on the end of a metal pole, stuck a blaster power pack in it, and now they had a tool that could effectively decontaminate everything they could reach. Then, they modified some of the small maintenance droids that did work in the vents with the same setup, followed by some modifications to the ship’s water filtration system.
Capt. Keen estimated that they should have everything scrubbed out by the time we got back from the temple. I had again attempted to apologize for causing the problem in the first place, but the woman wouldn’t hear it. I had again resolved myself to find some way to repay the crew for the inconvenience.
In the meantime, we had a trip to make.
“What are the Jedi like?” Asajj asked as the three of us—four, counting Catya riding on my shoulder—entered the hangar and made our way across to the Rusted Silver.
I considered the question for a moment as we entered my ship, stowed our bags, and took our seats in the cockpit—Allaya and Asajj taking up the two seats behind mine. I got us in the air and out of the ship before finally giving an answer. “Restricted.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Allaya asked, sounding annoyed.
“Exactly what it sounds like. They prize self-control and restraint, so you will rarely see a Jedi get emotional over anything. And while I won’t argue against self-control, they take it too far, trying to suppress even the good emotions. They are also very narrow minded in their perception of right and wrong. For most of the Jedi, the world is black and white, good and evil, with very little in the way of in between. Likewise, their code and their teachings restrict the way they think and act, to the point that they have stopped questioning why those things are and just blindly follow them—and this locks them into certain paths, limiting their ability to respond to changing circumstances. In other words, if you can understand a Jedi, you can manipulate them—because they generally aren’t going to deviate from expectations.”
I engaged the droid brain auto-pilot to take us down to the planet and turned my seat around to regard my two Padawans. Holding their gazes, I told them, “Specialization. Standardization. Predictability. Unquestioning adherence to dogma. These are for insects and slaves, not free, thinking beings. I expect the two of you to question everything, if you don’t understand the reasoning behind it.”
Asajj frowned. “Even that?”
I sent her an amused smile. “Yes. Because there are always exceptions. There are reasons we have protocols, drills, and training after all. It’s to train you to react without thinking, without slowing down to question a situation, because hesitation can kill. If you come under fire, you don’t stop and question who’s attacking and why. You react, by moving to cover and returning fire. You can ask those questions later.
“In training, you shouldn’t specialize so much that you are incapable of acting outside of your specialization. It’s good to find something you’re proficient at and train to excel at it, but not to the exclusion of all else. By that same token, trying to do everything and never finding something you excel at can also be bad, leading to a ‘jack of all trades, master of none’ situation. Trying to squeeze yourself into a standardized mold designed to turn out identical products is also not good, because it allows no freedom to develop how you like.”
Frowning, Allaya asked, “So we’re not supposed to put too much time into something, but we shouldn’t spend all our time trying to learn everything, but we should also try to learn as much as we can, but not to the point that we’re doing stuff we don’t like? Well then, what are we supposed to do?!”
Chuckling, I reached out and rubbed the top of her head, earning a glare in response from the redhead—but I noticed she didn’t actually pull away. “That’s the secret. You have to strike a middle ground that works for you. Find balance.”
Removing my hand from her head, I continued, “The Jedi will tell you that the only balance in the Force is the light side and that the dark side is corrupt and evil, and ruins everything it touches. They are wrong. The Je’daii before them found balance between the light and dark side and kept it for thousands of years, until the order had a schism between those who wanted to use only one or the other. Keep that in mind. Listen to what you’re told, question everything, think for yourself, and come to your own conclusion.
“As for dealing with the Jedi while we’re there, you’re not to mention any of that. Just nod along with whatever they say, agree and parrot back whatever they want you to, then ask me. If they tell you to do something you don’t agree with or want you to go somewhere with them, tell them you have other instructions and then come find me. There are only two Jedi Masters here that I would take entirely at their word, and I’ll introduce you to both. Master Dooku and Master Qui-Gon Jinn.”
Well, there were three, but I didn’t want them to let slip that Master Dyas was still alive and out there somewhere, gathering information. And as to my instructions on coming to find me if told to go somewhere, well… I didn’t trust someone not to decide that my Padawans were free for the taking, or should go into the general pool of initiates. They were my responsibility, no one else’s.
“Any questions?”
The pair thought about it for a moment before Asajj asked, “Where will we be staying?”
“Here. We’ll sleep in the ship. I’ve already keyed you in, so you don’t need me to let you in. Let me give you your code.” Digging my holocom out, I checked my notes and read it off as the girls committed it to memory.
“When do I get to spend time with my father?” Allaya asked, and I shook my head.
“That’s up to Master Dooku. It may not be here—”
“Why not?!” the girl demanded, angry.
I sent her a stern look and she shrank back. “What did I just say about the Jedi?”
She frowned, and when I simply waited, she eventually figured out I wanted a response. “…That they’re set in their ways.”
“Yes. And as I told you before, the Jedi rules do not allow emotional attachments to others. Master Dooku is retired from the order, but when they find out who your father is, they will raise a fuss. They could even try to keep you separate from him, or me. I won’t let that happen, but it’d be easier to just avoid the entire situation, now wouldn’t it?”
Allaya looked upset, crossing her arms over her chest and looking away as she sulked. To my surprise, Asajj reached out and rested a hand on the redhead’s knee, sending her a small smile.
That’s… good, isn’t it? That they’re getting past the butting heads stage. Also a good sign that growing up in the Nightsisters hasn’t completely ruined Asajj.
After a few moments, Allaya huffed out a quiet, “Fine.”
“Good. I know it’s not what you wanted to hear. I’ll ask him and see what he wants and let you know.”
With that, I turned my seat back around as the ship bumped as we began entering atmosphere. I took over and brought us down, tasking one of the cameras to focus on Jedha City—also known as the Holy City. From my research of the place when I’d been on Tython, I knew Jedha was a pilgrimage site for those who worshiped the Force.
As we neared, I spotted the Kyber Temple—the tallest structure in the city, with a large dome resting at its foot that I knew to house the Kyber Mirrors being used to cleanse the dark side taint from the Temple at Coruscant from the Jedi here. I didn’t even need to reach out with the Force to feel it from here. I could also feel the Jedi within, soaking in concentrated light side energy and trying very hard to contain the pain of effectively being sandblasted clean.
My ship’s console beeped as the local spaceport sent me coordinates for a berth to dock in and I guided her down to a smooth, easy landing. Once the ship had stopped, the section of the platform I’d landed on began to descend, hazard lights flashing as another section cycled up to replace it. We were lowered down three levels, to what I assumed was an underground level, before the lights flashed green and the spaceport sent the all clear that we could debark.
Standing, I made my way towards the hatch as the girls followed. “Arthree, alert me if someone tries to get in,” I told the droid, who beeped an affirmative. Reaching up, I scratched Catya under the chin, before reaching up and grabbing her by the scruff of the neck to try to get her off of me. Claws dug into my robes and the cat radiated discontent. Sighing as the girls giggled, I let go and gave her another scratch. “Fine. You can come too.”
With that, we left the ship and locked up. I followed the signs for the spaceport exit and winced as we walked directly out into the early morning sun. The Holy City was bustling with activity as we made our way through the streets. Races from all over the galaxy had gathered here and, as they spotted me and my robes, and the lightsaber at my side, I could feel the reverence from most of them as the crowd parted for me and my Padawans and many bowed.
I had to say, I didn’t like it. Neither the attention, nor the religious fanaticism. After all, all it would take is one slipup to turn the most devout and faithful adherent against you, the moment you broke the illusion and stopped being some untouchable perfect being and instead showed you were just as mortal and flawed as they were. I’d seen it on Felucia on the small scale, how quickly people could turn against the Jedi if things got hard. With this many people, there would be no reasoning with them if things went sideways. I’d either have to take the girls and flee, or it would become a bloodbath as I self-defensed everyone who so much as looked at us funny.
That’s not to say that everyone was so enthused to see the Jedi return to Jedha. Several in the crowd radiated anger, hate, and malicious intent—not just as they looked at me, but even towards the girls. Those, I kept an eye on in particular, making sure none of them moved to get too close—and running a quick formula to scan and flag the ones that had weapons.
The trip through the city was thankfully uneventful, barring the attention. Unfortunately, trouble found us the moment we set foot on the Kyber Temple grounds. I recognized the familiar, unfortunately phallic head of Master Mundi as he descended the temple steps, flanked by two Jedi I didn’t recognize, but guessed were knights. At the entrance, the guards radiated uncertainty, but stood at attention. As we approached, I slipped a hand into the pouch on my belt and thumbed on my holocom by feel. Then, I reached into my computation orb and spun up a formula.
Deciding to be the bigger person, I greeted him with the customary bow that would be respectful for someone of his position. “Master Mundi.”
The man came to a stop, studying me like one might a particularly nasty bug under a microscope. I could feel his disdain, and his lip visibly curled at seeing the blaster on my belt.
“Padawan Mereel,” he acknowledged, with no return show of respect that a Master would normally show to a fellow Jedi. His eyes flicked briefly over Allaya and Asajj before returning to me. “You are to come with me.”
I considered it for a moment before nodding. “Of course. Give me a few moments to get my Padawans situated—”
Mundi scoffed, cutting me off. “You are a Padawan yourself. You are not allowed to take Padawan learners. They will be moved into the general pool of initiates, where their suitability will be assessed, and if found lacking, they will be given to the Council of Reassignment.”
I smiled, and for some reason, the two Knights at his side fumbled for their lightsabers as a brief thrill of fear rolled off of them before they mastered their reactions when they saw I wasn’t actually doing anything. “Let me rephrase myself, Master Mundi. I will accompany you, but only after I have personally made sure that my two clan members have been situated. The clan members whom I have legal authority over and over whom you have no say as they are not members of the Order yet. Do I make myself clear?”
“Insolence. You forget your place,” Mundi began, but I cut him off.
“No, I know my place. When I assumed responsibility for these two, that place became between them and whatever wanted to do them harm.” Glancing at the two Knights, I sent them an unamused look before refocusing on Mundi. “Now, I have business here and only so much time in the day to humor you, before I need to report to Master Dooku. His authority concerning me certainly supersedes your own, and I have standing orders to report to him upon my arrival. Make no mistake, I will only accompany you only in so far as it does not violate those instructions. Protocol and the rules of the Order dictate that another Master can’t simply order someone else’s Padawan around without express permission from that Padawan’s Master, barring very specific exceptions—exceptions which do not apply in this instance as you are neither the Grand Master, nor the Master of the Order, we are not at war, neither are there exigent circumstances which would allow for such.”
Mundi frowned, before tucking his hands into his robe sleeves. “Very well. We will accompany you.”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Turning enough to motion for the girls to follow, I continued up the steps, Mundi and the two Knights with him following. The halls inside were quiet and our steps echoed as I opened myself up to the Force and followed it to a class currently in progress.
Opening the door, I found a classroom full of students about the same age as mine, all wielding training sabers as they moved through forms. At the front of the class stood an older human man I remembered from Coruscant and memorizing the Order’s org chart. I sent the man a polite smile and a bow. “Master Drallig.”
“Continue as you were,” he told the students, before shutting off his lightsaber and making his way to the door. Taking in my two students along with Mundi, he frowned, before focusing on me—only briefly glancing at the passenger riding on my shoulder. “Tanya, isn’t it? You’re Dooku’s Padawan, aren’t you?” he asked, and I nodded. “What brings you here today?”
I chuckled, reaching out and grabbing my two students. “I’m here to meet with Master Dooku, but Master Mundi wanted a word first. I thought it might be good to get these two some time to socialize with other students their own age, and take in a few lessons around the Temple while we were here. They’ve never wielded a lightsaber before, so I felt a class on the basics would be the best place to start. Would you mind terribly if they joined your class?”
The man’s face softened as he smiled down at the girls. “Not at all. They’re welcome to join.”
“Thank you,” I nodded, pushing the two girls forward. “Behave. I’ll come find you when I’m done.”
“Mm,” Allaya agreed, while Asajj simply nodded.
Certain I was leaving them in good hands, I left the room with Master Mundi and stopped as soon as the door closed, before gesturing down the hall. “After you.”
The man huffed and stalked off down the hall at a quick walk, the two Knights flanking me and waiting for me to move first. Studying them for just a moment, I turned and followed Mundi.
So, that’s how it is. This isn’t simply Mundi being an ass. He believes he has real power. More than he had before, as someone on the High Council. Interesting. And troubling, given his focus on me.
“Though it may not seem so, I only criticize you for your own good, and the good of the Order,” the man spoke up as we made our way through the quiet halls, younger Jedi oddly seeming to avoid Mundi, giving the man a wide berth—to the point that I felt them clearing out well ahead of his path, their emotions… not quite fear, but certainly a low level of dread.
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“Is that what you call it?” I asked.
To my surprise, he glanced back for a moment and admitted, “You were right.” I raised an eyebrow in question and he elaborated. “About the Temple on Coruscant. The font of dark power beneath it is insidious. It clouds the mind and veils the senses, just as you said. It took time to lift the veil enough to see the truth of it, and to see just how far the corruption of the dark side has spread within the Order because of our ignorance. In our ignorance, we spent untold years poisoning the younglings and allowing a festering rot to creep in.”
“So you confirmed it. That’s good. What does that have to do with me, aside from being the one to find it?”
“Now that we have relocated the Order to a new Temple, on a proper light side nexus, we have begun correcting that error. Removing the taint of the dark side.” I frowned, not liking where this was going. “Of course, someone must oversee this responsibility.”
“And that someone is you,” I guessed, and the man nodded, a small smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.
“Who better, than someone who has acknowledged the error of his ways, his own failings and blindness, and had the dark burned out of him?” Mundi asked, and I felt the two Knights briefly waver in fear and dread.
It sounded like religious zealotry. Like Mundi had gone mad—a man given a little power, set out on a witch hunt. Except for the fact that the dark side influence of the Temple on Coruscant was a very real problem.
So instead of a man on a witch hunt, it would be more accurate to call Mundi a crusader, or an inquisitor, set against a proven threat. Another madman driven by faith, but the worst kind—the kind who was right, who had evidence supporting him and his actions. That made it all the worse, because those types didn’t need to justify things to themselves and others—they could just point to everything they had found and use that as justification for their actions, and reason to demand more power, more freedom to act to deal with the threat. Until eventually, the threat was gone… but they decided that they enjoyed having power, so they made up new threats to justify their continued existence.
Their kind were the embodiment of the old adage about the double edged sword. Very useful to have when the chips were down and the enemy was at the gates, but almost as likely to cut the wielder as the enemy.
“As for yourself,” Mundi continued, pulling me from my thoughts, “that’s simple. You will join me in meditation before the Kyber Mirrors, and you will not leave until every last trace of the dark side has been burned from you.”
“Excuse me?” I asked, and the man sent me a knowing look.
“I can sense it, Padawan Mereel. The dark side has grown within you, since the last time you stood before the council. That is troubling enough on its own, but I can also sense the conflict within you. Something happened to you and you came away scarred. But the wound hasn’t healed. It has begun to fester and rot, oozing with the dark and poisoning everything around you. Can you not feel it?”
I shook my head. “I feel that you’re exaggerating, or seeing what you want to see.”
“Did something happen?” Mundi asked, arching an eyebrow.
I frowned, but nodded. There was no point attempting to deny it. “Yes. A string of bad decisions, misfortune, and my own failures led to the deaths of men and women who had entrusted their lives to me, for nothing. Because the Republic can’t be bothered to send fleets out to eliminate pirates. Because some beancounter decided a shield unit was worth more than our lives. Because I misjudged the level of threat presented and didn’t call for backup or retreat until we had already suffered catastrophic losses. It was my responsibility and their deaths and injuries are on me.”
“A Jedi should be beyond such feelings. Which you would be, if you properly divorced yourself from attachments. By taking that guilt on, you endanger yourself and everyone around you.”
Scoffing, I asked, “And what would you do, Master Mundi? Say ‘oh well, I did my best,’ and move on?”
“Yes.”
My fists clenched at my side as, for just a moment, my anger at the thought slipped out. “You say I am a danger to myself and those around me, and yet you embody everything wrong with the Order, Republic High Command, and the Republic itself. Such a callous disregard for those around you and those whom you are responsible for, is the sign of a sociopath. Or a narcissist. You’re going to get people killed, and you won’t care. You won’t reflect on what you did wrong and how not to make the same mistakes next time. You can’t do it because of your pride. It makes you allergic to accountability. I am not a machine, Master Mundi. I’ll make amends for my failure and come to terms with it on my own time. I don’t need your assistance with that.”
The man’s jaw clenched and I felt his own anger flare briefly, before he got it under control as we stepped through a door, into a domed chamber. “Whether you feel you need it or not, you will have it. We’re here.”
Looking around, for a moment I forgot about Mundi and whatever this was between us.
There had clearly been some work done to the chamber since the Jedi arrived and reclaimed the temple. The original three Kyber Mirrors still stood—large sheets of polished kyber stretching nearly floor to ceiling arranged in a perfect triangle around the room. Moving closer, I could see that the exteriors had recently been worked, removing the patina of time to reveal all of the kyber beneath and bring them up to a mirror shine that I could see myself in. They were nearly transparent, but I could vaguely make out a faint coloration to each—blue, green, and yellow.
The other modifications to the interior of the room were obvious.
The first was in the form of countless smaller pieces of kyber affixed to the walls of the dome—all save for a circle in the very top. While these also bore a mirror finish, their individual coloration was much easier to make out, turning the interior of the dome into a mural of stained glass that was entrancing to look upon as it seemed to shift and move just on the edges of my vision, sending what little light was in the room dancing across the floor.
The second change was a large, three sided pyramidal slab of kyber in the center of the chamber. This one, while not the same size as the three big pieces, was just as clear and reflective, and bore no coloration at all.
Finally, the floor had been covered in polished wood and more of the smaller mirrors, flowing around the room in ways that looked strange, but after a moment I realized they would follow the path of the sun—or rather, a beam of light coming in from above. The wood had been inlaid with more kyber around the outside, in a series of runes I couldn’t read. A quick ping with a detection formula showed they covered the entire room creating a perfect circle and, the moment I stepped across them, it felt like stepping through a barrier of Force shielding the inside of the dome from the world outside. It felt very much like what I had done with my computation orb to cut out the noise on Felucia, actually. Except it went a step further and opened up the room to the greater Force outside Jedha.
Taking a few scans of the runes and committing them to my computation orb’s memory for later study and potential use, I took in the layout of the room and the flow of the Force within it. Master Mundi’s two escorting Knights stopped at the door, leaving only him and myself in the otherwise empty chamber as they closed the door behind us with a heavy thump, filling in the gap of smaller kyber mirrors on the dome and completing some kind of circuit, as I felt the Force within the chamber stir.
“Interesting,” I murmured, feeling the currents move around me. The way it gently drew on the Force within me while at the same time more seeped in to replace it—as though it sought to draw out all of the Force within me and replace it over time.
“This entire chamber has been modified to purify the Force. To focus the light in one place and burn out the dark hiding in those who set foot within,” Mundi explained as he slowly crossed the room, staying on the wood as he walked.
It felt… familiar. Not in the means, but in the effect of what it did. Taking in Force, passing it around the mirrors, and stripping the dark side from it by overwhelming it with light. Washing over it again and again, like the tide coming and going, until it was clean. Clean, but entirely filled with light side Force. Unlike the mechanical Force woodchipper process of my computation orb, this felt entirely natural—slower and much less violent, but no less effective. More effective, in fact, as it worked on a much larger scale.
Mundi sat seiza on a pillow in the center of one of the triangles created within the center of the chamber, where the Force converged most strongly. “Come. Join me.”
I made my way over to the center of the closest triangle, pulled over a cushion, and sat down cross-legged. “This isn’t going to work how you think it will.”
“We shall see.”
With that, Mundi looked up and the bare circle in the ceiling opened, segments withdrawing into the dome around it. Light fell onto one of the kyber mirror paths and the room came alive with light and Force. A rainbow of colors filled the room as light reflected, refracted, scattered, split into its constituent wavelengths, and came together again in myriad patterns as those individual parts recombined—suffusing the room in a warm glow that reminded me of Christmas lights on Earth. The Force stirred and swirled within the dome and I felt the push and pull on the Force within me increase.
Ah. It will likely grow stronger as the day progresses, then hit its peak when the sun above reaches its zenith, I realized. At which point, the light will hit that larger crystal in the middle, then reflect onto the big mirrors. I wonder what happens then.
My curiosity piqued, I decided to sit through the hours required to see what would happen. Making myself comfortable, I turned my focus towards my computation orb as I allowed the Force within me to fall into the flow of the room—pushed out by the force of the tide, then brought back in. As I drew in more Force steeped in the light, I felt the Force within me begin to split of its own accord as more concentrated light came back in, merged with dark before splitting again, and in so doing so both the light and dark elements of the Force grew more distinct, more pure—leaving the resulting neutral mix ever stronger.
The orb dangling on my chest ticked away in the same four tick beat it had since I’d created it, sucking in Force and storing it. Opening the orb up, I let it suck down more of the Force being drawn up from the nexus below and down from the sky above. I wouldn’t turn down an opportunity to grow the seed of Force within it when one was presented to me.
While it worked, I turned my mind towards the runes around the room, considering how they could be modified and applied to a room within a ship, to draw in the Force and enhance meditation. This connected to the Force, I felt it respond to the desire and the Force within me moved, burning a new formula into the orb—and I realized that it wasn’t the runes that were causing the light to wash out all the Force passing through it, but the mirrors themselves and the patterns used. The runes only acted as a filter and a means of focusing the Force.
Hours passed like that as the sun climbed higher in the sky and the Force in the chamber grew thicker as the light within grew stronger. Finally, the sun reached its zenith and hit the pyramid in the center of the room. Light flared out from it, illuminating the three largest mirrors as the Force swelled.
I felt my hair fluttering slightly around my head in a phantom breeze as the energy swirled within the chamber, thick enough that I found myself lifted off of my cushion on the energy currents alone. On my shoulder, Catya stretched and yawned, a deep rumble sounding from within her as I felt the furball napping—a cat who had found the most perfect sunbeam in existence.
I sighed at the sensation of my skin tingling all over, the warmth of it filling me up in a way that was deeply intimate. I felt more connected to the Force than I had since leaving Tython.
On the other side of the room, Mundi didn’t look like he was enjoying his time in the sun at all. The man radiated pain and anger, and I felt his gaze on me. Opening my eyes, I saw his body smoking faintly—dark side energy burned out of him, just as he’d said. Meeting my eyes, the man’s jaw clenched and he shot to his feet.
“As dark as you are, why aren’t you writhing in pain?” the man demanded, stomping closer, heedless of the kyber beneath his feet. I felt him reach out with the Force, no longer passively sensing the Force from me but actively feeling me out. “No… You’re growing stronger! That shouldn’t be possible here!”
I sent the man an amused look. Thinking back to my time on Tython and my studies of the Je’daii, I recalled something I’d read in one of the holocrons I’d found. “The Force is part of the world, Master Mundi. It reflects the world around it.” The man paused, frowning as he considered my words. I uncrossed my legs and dropped to my feet, before pointing out the obvious. “The brightest light casts the deepest shadow.”
Mundi glared, but the man’s anger settled, leaving behind nothing but determination like steel and a sense of danger. “It is worse than I feared. Very well. Those who cannot be cleansed in the light of the Force must be dealt with, before they can become a threat to the Order and the galaxy at large.”
His lightsaber flew into his hand and flicked on, the blue blade filling the chamber with an ominous hum.
That’s not on training mode. He intends to kill me…
I slid my own saber from my belt. I directed a flash of danger to Catya and the cat on my shoulder woke up and jumped off, flickering away in a twist of space before she hit the ground. I moved back and sideways, taking up a ready stance as I moved to counter the Master. “I don’t want to fight you, Master Mundi. You don’t have to do this. Are you sure this is what you want?”
Mundi moved, throwing himself forward into a swing. I brought my saber up, flicking it on in time for white-silver to catch blue as the blades clashed.
I felt alarm from elsewhere in the temple, along with people approaching. Mundi felt it too as he glanced at the door, then broke our blade lock and backed off a few paces. He gestured at it with one hand and I heard something inside break under the effect of his Force telekinesis. “We won’t be interrupted.”
“You’re right.” I smiled, and a thrill of fear ran through the man. “We won’t~.”
I launched myself forward, moving at the pace he had set. I brought my saber in for a two-handed strike. His blade flicked out, catching and deflecting mine, turning it aside before reversing and coming back in. I slipped to the side, dodging the strike. I didn’t let up, going fully on the offensive, probing the man’s defenses as I slowly sped up.
The man was good, I’ll give him that. He was light on his feet and fast, and incorporated the acrobatics of Form IV into his style that one wouldn’t expect a man of his age to be capable of—even if it was the Force doing the heavy lifting there. His defense was excellent, from a technical standpoint—with all of the hallmarks of Form III. From the subtle, last second dodges to the bladework kept tight to the body meant to minimize energy expenditure and exposure, reducing the time it took to block or parry an attack while keeping the blade in close and ready for a counter. He was no slouch when it came to offense either—mixing things up between Form IV and Form II.
From a purely technical standpoint, Master Mundi had me beat in terms of experience and breadth of skill. However, experience and technical knowledge weren’t the only deciding factors of a fight.
Mundi matched my speed and was good enough to keep me at bay with his defenses and occasionally strike or try to counter, but I saw the strain the fight was taking on his body. The way his arms shook when our blades came together. How he sometimes was just a hair too slow physically and he had to compensate with the Force, and the way he trembled when he did so. Whatever damage he had done to himself—was still doing to himself just by being here—was hampering him.
Combined with our comparative ages and physical conditions—him being an older man well past his prime, while I was young, fit, and spent nearly every day honing my body and skills—I was able to press the advantage. That’s not to say that he spent most of his time behind a desk or in meetings. No, he clearly spent the time required to maintain his body and keep himself limber and familiar with his forms. The difference was in the fact that I trained to an excessive level, to constantly move at Force speed as I had been taught on Dathomir.
I had stamina to burn because I trained to do so, and on a much more limited supply of Force than a Master would have. Whereas with Mundi, every clash drained his stamina even as he tried to suck down more Force from the room, but doing so only caused him more pain.
Every moment we fought, I learned, sharpening my own skill with Form III and IV, even as I outclassed him in Form II. If he hadn’t decided I deserved to die, I wouldn’t have minded learning from the man—but he had made his choice and so had I.
Our blades clashed again and again as we flashed across the room, Mundi trying to regain control of the flow of battle as I hounded him, kept him from getting time to catch a breath or reassess. I poured on the speed, forcing him to rely on the Force more and more to keep up, and either allow himself to be depleted and run out of gas, or draw on the Force in the environment and harm himself further.
In trying to trap me here, thinking the environment would cripple us both and he would be able to overcome my advantages with that handicap, Mundi had trapped and handicapped himself.
Outside, I felt people trying the door. For whatever reason, no one thought to use their lightsaber to cut whatever was keeping it shut—probably for fear of damaging the chamber. Instead, I felt three distinct individuals turn back and head outside.
Finally, I felt the moment the fight truly turned and Mundi began looking for a way to retreat. In between blocking and parrying my strikes, he tried to first push, then pull the door out of place, but it was locked in tight. Getting desperate, he glanced up to the ceiling, before taking a standing leap at the hole. I spun up my flight formula and intercepted him, catching him only a few feet away from the hole and forcing him to block. Without the benefit of the ground to brace himself on, the blow smashed him hard enough to slam into the wall that I heard break bones, before he slumped to the ground.
I was on him in the next second. His sword came up to block and I locked the blades together, twisting them around, before using the quillon of mine to wrench his from his hands and send it flying across the room. Mundi had just a moment to raise his hands to try to shield himself while gaping like a fish as he realized he’d lost, before I spun, drawing my saber around—
“Tanya!” Master Dooku’s voice called as I caught three familiar forms dropping down through the hole in the ceiling.
—and shutting it off at the last moment, nothing but the hot air of its presence passing through the space Mundi’s unfortunately shaped head occupied. Against my better judgment, I hadn’t given him a cranial circumcision. “If I were truly dark as you say, I would have just ended it there, Master Mundi.”
“What in the Force is going on here?” Master Windu demanded.
Master Yoda sighed as he leaned on his cane. “Explain yourselves, you shall.”
Master Dooku, on the other hand, had gone very cold and still as he stared down Mundi, hands still raised to stop a strike that had never come as the Master panted, trying to catch his breath.
“She, she attacked me! The dark side has driven her mad!” Mundi accused, pointing a shaking finger at me.
Sighing, I held up a hand as I slipped my lightsaber onto my belt and reached into the pouch at my side. Pulling out my holocom, I tapped away at the controls. “I’ll let Master Mundi tell you what happened in his own words.”
The man radiated confusion for a moment, before his voice sounded from the holocom. “…Those who cannot be cleansed in the light of the Force must be dealt with, before they can become a threat to the Order and the galaxy at large.”
“I don’t want to fight you, Master Mundi. You don’t have to do this. Are you sure this is what you want?”
Master Dooku’s jaw flexed and he reached for his lightsaber, but a movement from Master Yoda stopped him. “Not yours to make, that decision is, Master Mundi.”
Master Windu was much less calm as he demanded, “What convinced you that trying to execute a Padawan was in any way a good idea? Have you lost your mind?!”
Forcing himself to his feet, Master Mundi gestured at me. “Don’t you feel it?! She’s grown stronger in the dark side! She is a Sith!”
Masters Yoda and Windu both looked at me and I felt them reach out. I didn’t bother trying to hide anything as I stood there and let them have a good look. Finally, Master Yoda sighed and shook his head, turning and walking away. Master Windu, on the other hand, spoke slowly and carefully, his voice underscoring the barely restrained anger I could feel from him.
“She’s the same as the last time she stood before the Council. Stronger, yes. But still balanced.”
“But what about the—”
Master Windu cut Mundi off. “It seems to me like she’s got it under control.”
“Master Yoda,” Master Dooku began, only for the oldest Master to give a minute nod.
“Yes. Let this stand, we cannot. Assemble the High Council, we must,” Master Yoda spoke up as Master Windu moved to follow. Master Dooku’s hand found my shoulder and I felt him guide me towards the door. Yoda gestured at the door and we heard the sounds of metal twisting, bending, and popping for a few moments before the mechanism clanked and the door slid open easily.
Behind us, Mundi grabbed his lightsaber and scrambled to his feet, hurrying to catch up. As we passed through the gathered crowd of Jedi, he said, “Then I will go before them to plead my case, and petition to have Padawan Mereel removed from the Order.”
“You will not,” Yoda denied. “Wait, you shall. Privately, we must convene. Before that, however, a matter there is yet to attend to.” The diminutive Grand Master turned, glancing briefly at me. “A Knighting, to be held.”
Mundi nearly stumbled, his eyes going wide as he radiated shock for a moment, then anger, before he crushed the emotion down. “You can’t be serious! You mean to reward her after she tried to kill me?!”
“In self-defense,” Windu’s rumbling voice was almost a growl as he spoke over Mundi. Looking to me, he asked, “Can you send that recording to me? And is there video?”
“Audio only, I’m afraid. I triggered it to record when I spotted him waiting for us on the Temple stairs. It was in my pocket the entire time, so there’s no video from it. Though I could reproduce everything with the Force.”
“The audio recording is good enough,” Master Windu shook his head. Pulling out his own holocom, we quickly exchanged information and I sent the file over.
In a just universe, attacking a student with lethal intent would see him kicked out of the Order and jailed. And yet, I have a feeling he’ll get away with a slap on the wrist at best. Some people are simply too entrenched to be removed from their seats of power by any means other than physically, I mused as, in between steps, a twist in the Force at my feet announced the return of my cat, who leapt back up to her favorite perch—to raised eyebrows and amused looks from the other Masters, save for Mundi.
Somehow, I had a feeling that allowing him to live would just give Mundi an opportunity to heal, prepare himself, and attack me again in the future. Next time it would be without the convenient timely intervention of other Masters to break the fight up.
Unfortunately for Mundi, he was out of chances with me. The soldier in me couldn’t stand the thought of leaving an enemy at my back when my ‘allies’ wouldn’t deal with the threat properly. That meant I’d have to do it myself. Not today, but eventually.
I’m not going to give him another chance.
