Chapter 26
Down below the plateau where the newly constructed complex sits, a stream trickles by an old Jedi Master sitting in meditation with Sekot. The low rumble of the nearby waterfall radiates through the air, bringing a calming feeling to those in the area, except for Joash as the conversation in his mind is beginning to heat up. In his usual gruff voice, Joash speaks with an added tone of indignation, “I have been trained in the ways of the Jedi Order and there are things that should not be dabbled in.” Sekot responds with a booming voice in the old Jedi’s mind, “The Force is neither light nor dark. It simply is the Force. You Jedi proclaim to be wielders of the light, but in the view of the natural Force, you defile it in the same way a dark user does.” Joash, now steaming, responds, “I respectfully disagree. We channel the Force for good. We do not defile it. Those that dabble in darkness walk a path that only leads to destruction.” Sekot now poses a question with a curious tone, “Then why do you follow her?” The question surprises Joash and he struggles to answer. Before he could formulate a response, Sekot continued, “You claim the path you walk, the path of light, is the only acceptable one. Yet you are a member of an enclave led by someone you should consider your enemy.”
Joash’s eyes open and he looks vaguely upwards, “What do you know of the Grandmaster?” Sekot chuckles, “I know she wields power you will never know if you refuse to expand your limited thinking. And where do you think she learned to do so?” Joash grits his teeth with a slight growl to himself, “So you are responsible for…” He exhales deeply, shaking his head before speaking plainly “I think I need a break from this conversation. I sure wish I had some T’bac right now.” Sekot lets out a deafening laugh before replying to Joash, “I believe this T’bac you seek is upstream. Follow the stream until you reach the place where it branches. There in the plot of land in between the split you will find what you seek.” Joash cannot believe what he had just heard in his mind and replies, “Thank you, I will not forget this.”
The elder Jedi quickly begins to follow the stream until he reaches the split of the creek. It was just as Sekot had said, in the plot of land between the split of the stream was an abundance of wild T’bac plants. Joash leaps to the plot of land and takes in a deep breath, inhaling the sweet aroma of the plant and experiencing the small undertones of earthy spices. He picked a few leaves from a couple different plants ensuring the mix was perfectly balanced between mature and new growth. As he is walking back towards the complex he notices a large rock protruding from the planet's surface collecting heat from the solar source of the planet. The old man climbs onto the rock where he lays the leaves out and begins to press them gently against the rock to release the oil stores from within them. Joash reaches into a rectangular pouch that has been resting near the small of his back and reveals his smoking pipe. He carefully tears the leaves ensuring the mixture is just right before packing them into the bowl of his pipe. Joash then reaches for his ancient weapon and strikes the limb that was resting above him. The limb falls to his position where he quickly uses the burning ember from the fresh cut to stoke a fire in his pipe. With several deep drags on the T’bac, he lays back and closes his eyes.
“I want to show you something.” Sekot commands. “Open your mind and allow me to show you the way.” Joash, now relaxed from the T’bac, responds, “What would you have me do?” Sekot resplies, “Let me show you what is possible when you truly understand the natural Force.” After complying, the vision comes quickly to Joash and he begins to tremble as he lays on the heated rock. The shutters are violent, jolting the old master to the point of dropping his pipe and falling off the rock. After several moments he recovers and Joash quizzes Sekot, “Is that possible? That amount of power is inconceivable without tapping into the darkside. This cannot be real.” Sekot responds, “I told you that the natural Force is all powerful. If you open your mind and give yourself to the balance, only then will you be able to obtain what is needed to succeed.”
Aboard the Shadow Redeemer, the older commander continues to speak in what has become a dull tone while gesturing at data regarding supplies on the large screen behind him. In the room are various officers, the High Admiral, and various supporting personnel all arranged around the long table in the war room. The meeting has been going for several long hours at this point and fatigue shows on all of the faces present, save for Anhiel who maintains her usual hard expression. “How long until we need to acquire additional supplies, Commander?” He ponders the question for several moments before responding, “Conservatively? Two standard weeks, Ma’am.” The Admiral ponders the response for several long moments before sitting forward, “General Vega and Mirr shall be returning soon from a reconnaissance mission. Force willing, they will have some usable data that we can act on. I do not intend to engage the entire fleet. However, battles provide opportunities for salvage with no equal. We will need plenty of surplus if we wish to participate more fully in this conflict.” Those gathered around the table nod slowly, making notes on their respective datapads. Anhiel continues in a commanding tone, “All areas will provide a list of supplies with each item being assigned one of the following designations: essential, beneficial, and non-priority.”
Soft taps on datapad sound throughout the area as more notes are taken until a young female officer looks up timidly. The movement is noted by the Admiral and she turns her icy gaze towards the young woman. “You have something to add, Lieutenant?” Her final word is held longer than normal as she questions the young woman’s identity. “Lieutenant Barnes, ma’am.” Nervousness permeates her response and she pauses before continuing, “I was curious if we should instead omit supplies considered non-priority? Do we have the resources to commit to finding non-critical supplies?”
The unwavering stare from Anhiel causes the Lieutenant to shrink slightly as she begins to regret voicing her questions. Many silent moments pass before Anhiel speaks, “While they may not be critical to continued operations, we should not ignore the quality of life of our personnel. Morale has been the decision maker in as many battles as tactics. If we can secure items to boost morale, we will do so.” Nodding rapidly, Lieutenant Barnes straightens up in her chair, sliding back to no longer be the center of attention. Anhiel’s eyes sweep across the remaining officers as she queries, “Any other questions?” Silence reigns until the Admiral nods slightly, “Very well. I expect your reports by the end of the standard week. Dismissed.”
Chairs scrape on the durasteel floor as everyone begins to vacate the room. Footsteps die off over the next two minutes while Anhiel reviews her datapad with a slight frown on her face. Eventually, she became aware of a single presence that remained in the room and now stood a couple meters away. Lieutenant Barnes stands quietly, hazel eyes looking around nervously, mostly at the floor while she fidgets with her datapad. Her hair is a deep reddish brown, naturally very curly and normally hanging just past the shoulders, requiring it to be pulled back tightly to comply with regulations. Naturally pale skin is slightly paler due to the woman’s nerves. Without looking up, Anhiel addresses the woman in a flat tone, “Is there something else you needed, Lieutenant?”
The Lieutenant straightens up as she responds, “Ma’am, I realize it is not my place to question your orders. Please accept my deepest apologies for speaking out.” The Admiral continues to review the datapad for many moments before she sets it down, leaning back in her seat and looking at the young woman. “This was your first time attending a war council, correct?” A swift nod is received in response before the Lieutenant speaks, “Yes Ma’am. My commander is ill and was unable to attend. I was sent in his place.” Anhiel’s gaze remains focused on the young woman, “You serve on the Voidstar?” Again, the Lieutenant nods, “Yes Ma’am.”
A long “Hmmm” radiates from the Admiral as she thinks, eventually picking up her datapad and making several quick keystrokes. Once complete, she sets the datapad down and returns her gaze to the young woman as she speaks with her usual authority, “Effective immediately, you have been transferred to the Shadow Redeemer and are promoted to Lieutenant Commander. Due to the unexpected losses we received during the initial conflict with the enemy, personnel have been rearranged and the Shadow Redeemer is in need of a Head Engineer.” Surprised by the sudden promotion, Lieutenant Barnes stammers “Ma’am? Are you…sure? I am only a recent graduate from the officer’s academy.” Anhiel smirks slightly, “Did you not graduate more than a year early?” The younger woman’s lack of retort was answer enough, causing the Admiral’s smirk to deepen, “I am quite good at seeing the potential in people and I do not put my people in situations they cannot handle. I have no doubt you will succeed in this role and look forward to seeing how you grow.” She pauses a moment before adding, “Your earlier question shows you are ready. It is not wrong to question in these situations, unlike when orders are given during combat.” Lieutenant Barnes straightens even more and snaps off a crisp salute, “I shall not waste this opportunity, Admiral.”
The following morning arrives quickly. On Zonama’s surface, Joash relaxes quietly while enjoying more T’bac near the cliff on the edge of the compound. Athin exits the main building and looks upwards to see a shuttle coming in to land at the nearby pad. A slight smile crosses his face as a very familiar aura can be seen aboard the shuttle. He quickly strides towards the landing pad and watches quietly as the ship settles onto the ground. After the ramp deploys, Anhiel exits the ship clad in her armored robes, causing her footsteps to echo loudly as they collide with the metal ramp. The sight of the lone Miraluka brings a smile to the woman’s features as she comes to a stop just in front of him. Athin bows, speaking low “It is good to see you, Grandmaster. I was not expecting to see you planetside.” Blue eyes roll in an exaggerated fashion while a slender hand raises Athin’s head. The light kiss placed on his lips surprised him greatly yet Anhiel did not wait for him to recover before she began to stride past the Miraluka.
As she passes through the compound, various personnel stop to salute briskly as the Admiral passes. Having recovered from the surprise public display of affection, Athin hurries after the woman and catches up as she crosses through the gate on the opposite side of the plateau. A hundred meters away from the gate is a pathway that winds downwards and in the distance can be seen a tall, rocky feature covered in green foliage. Anhiel pauses at the top of the path and stares silently off towards the structure as Athin comes up to her left shoulder. Without turning her gaze, Anhiel speaks mildly “I take it your sight has adjusted?”
Athin nods, “Yes, it has. I am no longer overwhelmed by Sekot’s presence. The meditation sessions we have shared have been very helpful. Sekot knows much about the Force that I have never even heard whispers about.” The slightest of smirks forms on Anhiel’s lips, “You have no idea.” After a brief pause, she continues “Come, Athin. There is something I have wanted to show you since we arrived.” Intrigued, the Miraluka bows slightly and gestures forward “Lead on, Anhiel.”
The pair follow the path in silence, Anhiel leading the way through the foliage once the path ends. Nearly an hour passes before they arrive at the base of the far off rocky structure. Without warning, Anhiel springs upwards, landing on a ledge several meters above them. She glances downwards at Athin and smiles lightly before gesturing for him to follow. The pair carefully ascended the rocky structure for just over a half hour until they reached a mostly overgrown courtyard. On the edge of the courtyard is a wide stone staircase that rises upwards in three sections to a heavily overgrown temple structure. A booming voice echoed in their minds, surprising Athin as he came to stand just behind Anhiel. “My star pupil, the Silver Butcher, has returned. I have been wondering since you arrived if you would come to this place.”
Athin’s head tilts slightly in curiosity at the statement. Anhiel elaborates while maintaining her gaze on the temple structure, “This is where I spent my time healing, when I was here before.” Sensing the man’s continued curiosity she continues, “The Silver Butcher is a name I acquired during the war. It was originated by a clan of Mandalorians that had switched sides to ally with the Sith. You have met them before. That is the clan that held the wreckage we salvaged. Mirr’s previous clan.” Anhiel pauses then exhales deeply, “But that is a story for another time.” Without saying more, she begins to ascend the stairs leading into the overgrown temple. As she does, Athin begins to follow while Sekot begins speaking to the pair once more, “What brings you back?” The pair tops the second tier of stairs and stands at the base of the final tier when Anhiel responds, “I wished to show Athin this place and share some about my time here.”
“So you have found a new life partner? Good. That is good.” Seemingly ignoring the ancient being’s statement, Anhiel queries, “My injury still remains and has begun to cause me to have random fits. The healer of my enclave believes a portion of the old force bond remains. How do I rid myself of what remains?” With an intrigued voice, Sekot responds “So it is not a void as I had originally thought? Most interesting. But I suspect it is as I said before, you continue to cling to something despite the progress you made in your time here before.” Anhiel’s brow wrinkles in frustration as she spins around to look at Athin who stood quietly listening. His continued curiosity radiated through the Force while he asked, “What exactly happened when you were here before? You have not told me.”
Moving her silver bangs to the side, Anhiel opens her mouth to respond but stops at the sound of Sekot’s voice, “If you wish, I can show him more than you can convey with words.” With a long sigh, the Grandmaster inclines her head, “Very well, Sekot. I won’t deny you a chance to show off.” Without saying more, she drops to her knees and folds her hands gently in her lap after motioning for Athin to join her. Athin complies, moving and dropping into a cross legged position just to the woman’s left. Glancing to the right, Athin asks quietly, “How does this wor…” Before his question could finish, a memory begins to form within his mind as vivid as watching the events unfold firsthand.
Against the black backdrop of deep space appears a lone Defender class ship as it exits hyperspace. The burgundy metal is scarred with many points glowing brightly from intense heat. Aboard the ship is a lone presence that can be felt through the Force. The owner is a silver haired female in her mid to late 20s, clad in silvery gray robes as she meditates on the deck near the flight controls. Moments after the ship exited hyperspace she collapses, unconscious from exertion, allowing the ship to slowly drift towards a mostly green planetary body. Sekot’s presence makes note of the arrival of the invited guest and sends gentle waves through the Force, causing the small ship to enter into a stable orbit of the planet. A booming voice echoes through space, being heard even by the unconscious woman, “Rest, wounded warrior, for your trial has just begun. But at the end awaits power you have never known.” Exhaustion, pain, grief, and regret envelope the woman’s unconscious thoughts as she lies still upon the metal floor. Yet the words from the unknown entity brought determination in the face of the turbulent emotions.
Several days passed while the small ship continued to orbit Zonama under the watch of Sekot. Eventually, the slender woman began to stir on the flight deck. With a heavy groan her arms move to push her frame up from the deck. Before she can fully gather herself, Sekot’s voice sounds out once more, “The Silver Butcher wakes. I was beginning to wonder if your slumber was permanent.” Startled by the voice in her head, Anhiel speaks out loud, “Who are you? And how do you know that title?” A deep chuckle reverberates in the woman’s thoughts as Sekot responds, “I am Sekot, the one who invited you here and showed you the way. I reside within this planet known as Zonama. As for your title, I see much of the galaxy, Butcher. I have been watching you for some time now, ever since you entered the fray during the last war. I have witnessed your victories as well as your defeats, including Ord Radama.” A deadly growl exits the new Jedi Master’s throat at the mention of Ord Radama as she pulls on the Force to retaliate. The action causes the woman to stumble as her body is still exhausted despite the many days she spent unconscious. Sekot continues in a diplomatic tone, “Peace, warrior. I am not your enemy. However, you require much more rest before your training may begin.” Mild confusion crosses Anhiel’s features just before some coordinates form in her mind. Sekot continues, “Land your ship here. There is a shelter nearby where you may rest. Once you are ready, we shall begin.”
Still perplexed, Anhiel hesitates while straightening her robes before moving to input the coordinates provided by Sekot. The flight console shows an elevated plateau with a large stone structure. 200 meters away is a relatively flat area suitable for landing and with a few keystrokes, the autopilot is set to take the ship down to the area. Heavily, Anhiel slumps down into the pilot seat to watch over the descent to the planet but she is content to let the autopilot handle the approach as a result of her current exhaustion. After the ship enters the atmosphere, the topography of the planet becomes more clear. Large grassy plains, winding rivers, and tall mountainous regions are spread across the surface with no particular pattern. The wounded ship streaks towards the surface for several minutes until it approaches the rocky structure. The ship’s momentum slows as the landing struts extend before it slowly lowers down to the surface. Once safely on the ground, Anhiel exhales deeply and lifts herself from the seat with some difficulty. Slowly, she navigates to the small living quarters and enters the refresher, shedding the sweat dripped robes and undertunic.
Half a standard hour later, Anhiel exits the ship wearing a fresh version of her original outfit. Beneath her feet, the soft ground depresses gently with each stride after stepping off the ramp. The air is crisp in her lungs while she looks upwards at the unknown structure. Further inspection reveals it is a temple made of stone, rising more than a hundred meters above the current elevation. After many moments, Sekot’s voice cuts into Anhiel’s mind, “Within the temple you will find accommodations. They may not be as sophisticated as aboard your ship, but you will find your energy restored more quickly and more potently within the temple.” Silence hangs in the air for many moments while Anhiel continues to look over the temple until Sekot continues, “Rest, warrior. For tomorrow, your journey towards healing and power begins.”
Inside the temple there is little in the way of comforts. In a room near the back Anhiel finds basic living quarters, including a simple cot, stand made of wood and a single dim light whose power source is not clear. A feeling of static permeates the air, representative of the residual Force energy in the atmosphere. Anhiel enters the room and looks around slowly before closing her eyes and opening her presence to the energy within the room. How long the exercise lasts is unknown to the woman and only Sekot’s voice breaks her focus, “As I said, you will recover more quickly within the temple. Now sleep. We begin at first light.” Still somewhat perplexed by the day’s events, the exhaustion remained and would no longer be ignored. Somewhat reluctantly, Anhiel shed her outer robes and tunic then laid down on the simple cot. Sleep came not moments after her body laid down fully, the only movements came from the rhythmic rising and falling over the woman’s chest as she slumbered.
Many hours later, Anhiel stirs prior to the Sun’s rise, slowly stretching in an attempt to relieve the stiffness that had set in throughout the night. Minutes later, the woman exits the temple and stands at the top of the three tiered staircase, wearing a basic exercise tunic. She bends over at the waist, sinking deeply into a stretch as she places her palms flat upon the ground. After straightening, Anhiel bounds down the stairs several steps at a time. She adopts a moderate pace as she begins to jog away from the temple, following what appear to be game paths. For more than an hour she jogs through the landscape until she arrives at the base of the cliff below the temple. Anhiel looks up the cliff, taking note of several ledges at various locations on the cliff face. With somewhat labored breath from her jog, she calls upon the Force and leaps upward to the first ledge a dozen meters above. The action repeats several times until the woman lands in a crouched position at the top of the plateau. With labored breathing she straightens up, sweat glistening on her fair skin while she starts to ascend the temple stairs. As she approaches the top, a presence becomes apparent and she speaks as if to no one, “Why have you brought me here?”
Sekot’s booming voice sounds off in the woman’s mind, “I did not bring you here. You did. I merely showed you the way.” Irritation rises quickly in the young Master as she responds, “You are fully aware of what I meant.” Chuckling, Sekot continues, “Indeed, young master Jedi. As I said, I have been watching you for some time. You walk a path that very few embrace. For eons, the Force has been seen as light and dark by the majority of users. Yet that could not be further from the truth. However, it was the injury you have sustained and the fact you somehow survived that moved me to reach out.” There is a long pause between the two. Anhiel grimaces at the mention of the all too recent injury and does not respond. “I felt the weight you carry even over the vast distance that separated us. But as you stand before me, I see that you defy all logic. How you can continue to exist with such a burden baffles me.” Skeptically, Anhiel queries “And you think you can heal me?” Several moments pass before Sekot answers, “I believe I can unlock your potential and in doing so, you will likely begin to heal as well.” The woman’s skepticism now shows on her face, prompting Sekot to continue “I am aware you were not trained as a traditional Jedi. Your master taught you in the way of the Grey, as you call it. It is as close to an understanding of the true nature of the Force I have seen any discipline come to. But there is even more for you to learn to truly understand. The sudden breaking of a force bond has wounded you in a way battle never could. Understanding the true nature of the Force should reveal how you may heal.”
The extent of Sekot’s knowledge of her injury and training brings a sense of uneasiness to the young master. “You will find a meditation room within the temple. Once you are ready, go there and we will begin, Master Dulcinae.” Sekot’s presence withdraws from Anhiel’s perception, leaving her alone atop the stairs. After a moment’s pause, she turns quickly and strides towards her ship and enters. A dozen minutes later she emerges in a fresh set of grey robes, her hair pulled back tightly in a high ponytail and a pair a black saber hilts hanging at her waist. In the temple, Anhiel steps into a large square room at the center of the temple. It is poorly lit due to the lack of natural light that can reach its location. The walls are tinted green from mossy growth and several vines hang across the ceiling 30 meters above. A feeling of static can be felt in the atmosphere, as if the air is suffused with electricity. Anhiel steps to the center of the room and looks around for a long moment before exhaling deeply, unseating her sabers from her belt. While crouching low, the sabers ignite, bathing the room in a pure silver light. Smoothly, she moves through the many fulcrums of Form V. As she does, the apprehension she had been feeling begins to wash away as she enters the element with which the young master is most comfortable. Over a half hour passes as she continues the exercise before she straightens and extinguishes the sabers, placing them back on her belt. After a moment, she speaks into the empty room with a resolved tone, “I am ready, Sekot.”
“Why did you choose to leave your weapons aboard your ship and practice with these instead?” Suspiciously, Anhiel clarifies “These are my sabers. I created them during my Knight trials.” An unimpressed feeling can be felt radiating from Sekot, “I am not blind, young Master. I sense a pair of weapons aboard your ship that resonate with your very being more so than those you carry now.” Anhiel remained silent, a tightness forming in her chest at the observation. “So you refuse to acknowledge it then? You have further to go than I had anticipated. Very well. Let us begin.” The atmosphere now begins to crackle as the static sensation starts to increase, flooding Anhiel with a warm sensation that causes her heart rate to increase. She closes her eyes, attempting to settle her senses while opening herself to the flowing Force around her. Sekot’s voice guides her “The Force is concentrated within this room, allowing even those not sensitive to it to perceive its presence. But the potency can be overwhelming to those not used to its raw strength.”
Sekot’s words are muddy in the young master’s mind as a feeling of discomfort begins to wash over her. Her breathing quickens as does her heart rate causing her eyes to snap open as a result. The action brings only more anxiety as it becomes apparent her vision is quite blurry. A tearing sensation grips the young master deep within her chest, bringing forth the last memories of Ord Radama and with them the memory of an all too familiar pain. She falls forwards, her palms resting flat on the ground as her arms bend to absorb her weight. The image of Dulci’s lifeless body forms before her, whether in her mind or before her eyes is unclear. Anhiel releases a powerful scream which echoes within the walls of the central room as sparks begin to form across the whole of her body. The scream continues to intensify as she presses her hands against the stoney floors, causing several large cracks to radiate out from her hands as the result of the invisible Force flowing through her. Moments later the woman collapses forward, unconscious, her body unused to and unable to cope with the raw power that was flowing through her.
The sparks cease and her body lies still upon the now broken floor. Silence hangs in the air for several moments before Sekot’s voice sounds out, “Rest, warrior. This is not an enemy you can face with force. But you have survived worse. Nonetheless, you will conquer it and emerge from the other side of this journey a more powerful Jedi than you could ever imagine.”
Darkness fades on the memory as the pair of Jedi return to the present. Anhiel’s face is set with a stony expression in an attempt to mask the grimace of pain the memory brought forth. Without waiting for Athin to recover, she rises in a fluid motion and turns briskly before entering the temple structure. As the Miraluka regains his senses, he turns with several feelings vying for supremacy but is surprised to see Anhiel is gone. The surprise lingers until her presence and aura is noted moving within the temple. He rises quickly and jogs within the structure to catch up to his partner. The interior of the temple is basic, with few halls and rooms making it easy to find the large central room. Within stands Anhiel, motionless in the center of the room amongst the large cracks from the memory which extend several meters from their origin. The Miraluka’s perception reveals brightness throughout the air due to the concentration of Force power in the room. The Grandmaster’s aura melds seamlessly with the power flowing throughout the room as if they were one being. Despite the power, a feeling of worry radiates from the woman as Athin draws near to her. The origin of the worry stems from the fear that the vulnerability shown in the memory will lessen her standing in the man’s eyes. Weakness, failure, powerlessness are foreign concepts to the Grandmaster, ones she has always found great difficulty admitting to in the past.
Her thoughts reel as she relives the memory over and over until she feels Athin’s lips on the top of her head and his arms wrapping around her torso. No words are spoken between the two for several minutes, allowing Anhiel’s apprehension to subside until she turns within his grip and leans her forehead against his chest. The moment is interrupted by the chirping of a communicator. Reluctantly, the High Admiral extricates herself from her partner’s grip, her usual commanding look returning to her face as she opens the link. On the other end is the Commander, “Admiral, General Vega and Mirr have returned. Shall I have them dock with the Shadow Redeemer and debrief them?” Her response is simple, “No, Commander. Direct them to the base. I shall return at once.” After closing the comlink, Anhiel makes a few keystrokes on the datapad she pulled from within her robes. Several minutes later, a transport begins to lift off from the pad and rotate in the direction of the temple.