Knightkiller: Anakin and Obi-Wan’s First Adventure
Chapter 13: The Old Ladies
Word Count: 2025 Links: Chapter 1, Table of Contents
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“Master?”
“Yes, Anakin?”
“Someone helped me escape. Fenn Gallowk. She -- er -- he’s a slave; I promised him we'd free him.”
“Indeed, we owe him a great deal.”
“But his master is Senator Dinv of Raktu!”
“Senator?”
“Yes!”
“Hey!” interrupts Zlinky. “That's the name of the guy sponsoring this tournament!”
“Aha! Good job, Padawans. It seems the situation isn't as complicated as I thought.”
The Jedi turn a corner and almost run into twenty murder-droids. They look like Jane, but without any of her rust and broken parts.
“You were saying?” says Zlinky.
“Other way, other way,” says Tila.
The heroes turn around as the robots begin to march toward them, but a crowd of guards and patrons blocks their return.
In response, Tila turns to the wall and body slams into it, cracking the structure. The force of her movement shakes the whole hallway, which makes all of the non-Jedi fall on their butts.
Anakin laughs. “Your master is so cool, Zlinky!”
“I know!”
Well I'm cool, too. -- Did I really just think that? thinks Obi-Wan.
Tila throws herself through the hole in the wall and pulls the smaller Jedi and Jane after her. They barge into a VIP lounge with soft pink lighting and cute little snacks on fancy tables. Most of the wealthy visitors are in the arena watching the game, but the lounge still hosts a few dozen spectators taking breaks, family members who have no taste for violence, a couple secret meetings, and other odd stragglers who clutch their pearls at the sight of the filthy intruders.
Anakin stares at the food and feels his stomach rumble.
Jedi control their hunger. This is an obvious temptation. Any other Jedi my age would resist it.
He stares ahead of him, hardening his expression.
Tila turns her head with an abrupt motion.
“Glagret! I feel her presence. This way!”
The great Lollian bounds across the lounge to a black door, shedding fur in her wake. The others follow after her on their little legs. In this room no one is shooting at them; in fact, many are hiding their faces, afraid of being recognized.
The door withstands both Tila's body slam and Jane's barrage.
“Let me try,” says Zlinky. She draws her little screwdriver and swiftly picks the lock.
“Well done, Padawan,” says Tila.
“Thank you, Master!”
As their scrappy pursuers commence their own invasion of the VIP lounge, the Jedi and Jane hurry through the sturdy door and shut it behind them.
It is another pitch-black room. Only Zlinky, with her third eye, can see Knightkiller sitting upon a plain chair, her great face resting on her claws, a few of her legs crossed casually. Knightkiller moves one of her claws in a sideways motion.
“Padawans... Kill your masters.”
Zlinky ignites her lightsaber and swings it toward Tila. Tila quickly disarms her with her own weapon.
“I--I'm sorry!!” says the young girl.
“Resist, Padawan,” says the old lady.
“Yes, Master!”
Zlinky balls up her fists and regains control of her mind. Jane whirs her torso up and down, unsure if she should shoot someone. Zlinky senses her confusion and tells her no.
Obi-Wan feels Anakin's hands on his throat. He instinctively brings up his hands to pull them off, but he feels nothing there. The boy must be using the Force. In the darkness, it is impossible to tell the difference.
But almost as quickly as he feels the small fingers grab his neck, they are gone. He hears Anakin breathing heavily beside him. Obi-Wan puts an encouraging hand on Anakin’s non-dislocated shoulder.
“Great plan, Master Juna,” Obi-Wan says sarcastically. “We've fallen right into her clutches.”
“Hush, young one. Glagret. My old friend.” Tila holds her weapon up. “Turn on the lights, won't you? This darkness is perfectly ridiculous.”
Knightkiller snarls with a hair-raising clicking sound, like a cog in an old-fashioned word-processor, a sound that reminds Anakin distinctly of his mother. Obi-Wan feels him shudder. Soft yellow lights illuminate from the floor, casting shadows on their faces.
“Much better,” says Tila. She turns off her lightsaber and clips it onto her belt. Obi-Wan also takes his hand off his weapon. He observes Tila closely.
The Council sent me here precisely to prevent this scenario. They did not want Master Tila's former friendship with ex-Master Glagret to interfere with the mission. Tila is wise, but if the Council second-guessed her judgment... I may have to step in.
“Officious as always, Master Juna,” says Knightkiller.
“Yes, I haven't changed a bit, Master Glagret. I wish I could say the same for you.”
Knightkiller sits up. “I'm sorry I don't fit in your pretty little puzzle anymore.”
“This isn't about me.”
“No. It isn't. You weren't even there when it happened.”
“So…” says Tila, very gently. “That is what this is all about. I thought so…”
Everyone else besides Jane thinks, What are they talking about?
Jane thinks, ɪ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʙɪɢ ʟᴀᴅʏ ᴅᴏᴡɴ. ᴏɴᴇ ꜱʜᴏᴛ. ɪ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ꜰᴜᴇʟ! ɪ’ᴍ ꜰɪɴᴇ!
“Of course it is. She is what everything is about. She was my daughter, and my sister. My life. She was all of it. You can't understand,” says Knightkiller.
“I can. I do. My first Padawan passed, too. I know that sorrow.”
“No. It's not the same. Your boy did not die as my girl died.”
By now most of the people hunting down the Jedi have moved on, either back to the match or to the VIP snack tables, since they successfully chased their prey right into Knightkiller's office. But the most obsessed and audacious remnants bang on the crime lord’s door.
A holo of the announcer appears above Knightkiller's armrest.
“My lady, Chahlee's slayer has come forth.”
“Send them into battle at once. And make it mandatory for ticketholders.” She shuts off the holo.
Almost immediately, the announcer’s voice floods the speakers again: “Ladies and gentlemen! The one who sniped the battle dome and poor old Chahlee has revealed herself -- Ash Laia of Farilin! Witness her in her first ever death-match against current champion Jwelth Moeite! See the unusual acid-blaster in action, the blaster which could do what Kenobi could not! This match is MANDATORY -- check-in at the doors in the next five minutes, or forfeit your tickets! No refunds!”
The mob at the door finally hurries back to the arena, which leaves the heroes with just one opponent.
“My boy--” begins Tila.
“Your boy died in peace. He had a fatal case of being human. The luckiest humans live barely a Lollian decade. He died of nothing.”
“And you think that makes it easier? Everything yours is to you, mine is to me. His time came when he was just ninety human years. But not a day goes by that I don't want him in this life with me again. Do not mock my grief; don't say it's less than yours.”
Knightkiller rips off part of the fabric of her armrest. The unleashed stuffing floats through the air like lazy flies. “It is less than mine. You say you grieve, but you remain with them, the stone-hearted, the liars. You wouldn't claim this pain if it didn't serve your ends.”
“I keep it silent. I don't feel the need to speak of it. But it's there, even if you can't see it. I know you believe me.”
“I don't understand you… How you can stay with them.”
“And I don't understand you -- you joined them! The very people, the very game that killed your girl!”
“Yes, but I told you… You cannot understand me.”
“My heart is open to you. I am listening.”
Knightkiller gazes ahead of her. Her six eyes seem focused on nothing, or on something known only to her.
“What happened on the Comet? Did death match gangsters find you? Capture you?” asks Tila.
“No.”
The room is silent. They hear the newest match roiling down the hall and the humans’ stomachs gurgling with hunger.
“I left,” says Knightkiller. “When Willo died in that first death match, I felt nothing. And not the controlled nothingness of the Order. Real nothingness, beyond my power, beyond my knowledge. A year passed. I couldn’t take it anymore. I was assigned a mission on the Comet. Out there in deep space, I faked an explosion. I killed whoever got in my way. I left.” She shifts her position. “Then I took over the whole game myself.”
Tila slowly shakes her silver head. “But why?”
Far away, the audience cheers.
“...The Order ... In the Order, you think the Order is the one way. Not just the best way. But the only way. But that's not true... This game has a power beyond what the Order can provide. Glory. Money. Fun.”
“Fun.”
“Yes... Willo died for fun,” says Knightkiller, without a hint of emotion.
“But she didn't want to. She didn't mean to,” says Tila, her own emotions also under check.
“The Force doesn't care what we want or mean to happen. All that matters is the flow of its power. And the Order does not follow in its current.”
“But the game does?”
“Yes. It does.”
“Just because this ghastly sport killed your Padawan does not make it the most powerful constant in the galaxy.”
“Doesn't it? ... As I said... she was everything. She is everything... Nothing matters, without her.”
“That’s not true.”
Knightkiller leans back in her chair. Her tone betrays a hint of almost gleeful satisfaction. “I told you. You can't understand.”
Zlinky, who knows Tila the best of any of them, can tell the Lollian is deeply frustrated. To Anakin and Obi-Wan, the wise woman seems as serene as always -- but her student can read the truth. Zlinky reaches out and puts her hand on her master’s arm, soothing her as she has soothed Jane, over and over. Tila, who even now had been considering a surprise attack with her lightsaber, reconsiders.
Tila thinks, Every time, the child is the wiser one. Every time.
“My friend,” says Tila, hesitating, “I am trying. I believe you. I accept your conclusions... It is not complicated.”
“You know me. I never was complicated.”
“Tell me what it is you want. Do you want to keep fighting?”
Knightkiller is silent.
“Do you want to keep playing the game?”
“The game is in my hand, now. I control it all -- the fans, the patrons. The players. The spirit of it. No tournament is half as big as mine... The game is mine.”
“Yes... But do you want it?”
Knightkiller is silent.
“Is it fun?”
“... It is mine.”
“Yes...The thing that killed your Padawan. It is yours. Yours to keep... or yours to kill.”
Obi-Wan feels a chill run down his spine at Tila’s words. To him, Knightkiller seems hopelessly twisted, destroyed by grief and lost to the dark side. But to Tila, she is none of those things. Only with caution, wisdom, and endless compassion can a Jedi see the truth. Only with eyes opened to the future, not hostage to the past, can a great master such as Tila foresee what must be done.
Yes, it matters how Glagret fell, how Knightkiller came to be where she is. But it matters more what she will do, now that she is here. From her position of such great evil, she can do good. She can be greater than her power. It is not too late. It is never too late.
“...Go,” says Knightkiller.
Tila turns around, opens the door, and strides across the lounge. The others follow in her huge footsteps.
“But how will we get off this station, Master?” asks Zlinky.
“I'm sure we will be provided for, at the docking bay,” answers Tila.
“Wait!” says Anakin, “There's someone we have to save -- a slave called Fenn Gallowk --”
“Anakin -- you know better than anyone we can't very well whisk a slave away from his master,” says Obi-Wan.
“Then --”
“We will save him. I assure you. Once we bring the Senator down.”
“But what if Fenn dies in a death match first?!”
“I don't think anyone will die in one, ever again.”
Anakin feels tears of frustration well up in his eyes. Knightkiller made no such promise. And even if one was implied, Anakin doesn't trust her at all.
Chapter 14: Aboard the JON-Bori