Chapter 27. Trooper, Jedi Consular, and Jedi Knight (2/2)
end of Part 4. Growing Pains
Galaxy Without End
*
Canon divergence: In the GWE timeline, the A-77 station mission comes up immediately after the Gauntlet mission.
*
Quesh was an absolute mess.
Larr Gith kept her composure, and Tebbith wasn’t sure whether she felt the swirl of Dark Side energy around Sajar, the padawan and former Dark Council member they had been sent to check up on.
Tebbith did feel it. It hurt.
Larr Gith greeted the Republic soldiers in the long, low bunker with a touch of emotional sparkle. Tebbith stayed close to her side. They had left the others at the Quesh processing facility, where there were buildings with breathable air.
And Tebbith could step forward toward Sajar. “Master Tol Braga sent us.”
The Human took an intense interest in the floor. “I’m sorry. I…don’t know what to do or say.”
“You are Tol Braga’s padawan,” said Tebbith. “You were a Sith, but forsook that life, at considerable personal cost. It is our honor to meet you.”
Larr pointed at Tebbith and nodded.
“You don’t understand.” The man’s voice was low, haunted. “They brought me Imperial captives to interrogate. The captives…angered me. I killed them, and lied about it. When the Imperials came against this base I hurled their corpses at them. Revealed my true face.”
A soldier ran up and skidded to a halt. “There’s an attack on the bunker. The forcefield is up, for how long I don't know. Master Jedi…?”
Larr Gith drew her lightsabers. “I’m with you. Sajar, nice to meet you. Teb, keep going.”
Nervously Tebbith counted the horns on his head, two four six eight ten. He let his hands fall. “You revealed the fact of the moment. That is not necessarily the truth of your heart.”
“Boy…forgive me. You are a boy. Your only life has been with the Jedi, am I right?”
“Yes.”
For some reason, his lip twitched, almost a smile for Tebbith’s life experience. “I had a lifetime of the Dark Side before I became Master Braga’s padawan. Every coin that passes through my hands, I see both sides. You cannot know what the temptation is…how simple it is to fall, if you’re already tainted.”
“But you have Master Braga’s trust. He’s no fool, and he sees more keenly than I do. If he believes you can be a Jedi—not a Knight, nor a warrior, you don’t need those to define you, but someone who holds the Jedi teachings dear—I’m not going to gainsay him.”
“Jedi live on faith. Sith live on demonstrable knowledge. And those corpses I hurled at their countrymen, that was demonstrable.”
“Yet the light is still here. You can feel it.”
“I am not of it.” Sajar’s shoulders sagged. “An Imperial officer, before I killed him, said the Emperor’s Wrath is coming. The Emperor’s will incarnate. Of course they let me fail before they kill me. Suppose it’s more pleasurable for them.”
“The Emperor’s Wrath will not harm you. Not while Larr and I are here.”
“The Emperor’s Wrath is a ghost! Older than anyone but the Emperor himself! Even the Dark Council feared him! I…I have no more corpses to hurl at him. I cannot defend myself in his own language, nor in yours.” He clutched the sides of his head. “I belong nowhere.”
“Stay here. Remember that the Force is created by life. And you, hurt though you are, are alive.”
Larr Gith came clattering in, far from her usual grace. “Larr?” said Tebbith. “How is the forcefield? Has anyone else come after us?”
“Fine, I don’t know. In that order.” Larr put a hand to her forehead. “I’m sorry, Teb, it’s just….” She forced out a breath and looked around at the dimly lit fortress. “I’m not ‘touched by darkness,’ am I?”
“What? No. Who would ever say so?”
“Scary Sith Pureblood in gothcore black. He walked up to the forcefield and said I was touched by darkness.”
Sajar had taken three large steps back.
Tebbith was clearly missing something. “Did he try to break in?”
“No. He said he came for Sajar. But when he found me instead, he just looked me through to my underwear and said I was interesting, and he’d tell his master about me.”
“A high-ranking Sith?”
“Very.”
“Are you all right?”
Larr looked past him, lips pressed in a line. Then she bounced back to normal and met his eye. “Yeah, definitely. Takes more than one black-clad mystery man to knock me off balance.”
Then there was nothing to do, but move.
Larr brought Sajar to Tython herself. He accepted a small room with a numb facsimile of grace, and meditated while the Prodigy Burst rushed home to Tython. Larr didn’t hand him off until Satele Shan acknowledged all of the struggle on Quesh. Larr didn’t talk about the Wrath; Sajar would if he wanted to. But the murder, and the doubt, and the Imperial attack—Satele needed to understand what this new war was doing to people. To a person who was trying really, really hard.
The Jedi took Sajar, and Larr Gith made them promise not to punish him. He didn’t look at her before she left. Well, sometimes guys were like that.
*
Tebbith didn’t normally see people blow other people off their feet with the Force. One might think that’d be common among Jedi, but it was startling this time.
Tebbith finished his mission on Quesh and met with Senator Grell and his daughter Nadia aboard the Gnost-Dural in orbit.
The Senator looked as nervous as he’d been around a Sith. “Nadia told me you saw her…gift.”
Tebbith nodded and addressed Nadia, who looked even more childlike next to her father’s bulk. “You used the Force. Do you understand?”
She spoke with earnestness but poise. “Like you used to stop the Sith on the Fortitude.”
“Exactly right.”
Tobas added, “I've seen enough Jedi to know that she is more powerful than most.”
Pride and concern. Both natural. “She must be trained,” Tebbith said with assurance. “She may hurt someone, including herself, if she doesn't learn to control it.”
“I will not send my daughter to a foreign training camp.”
“May I bring Larr Gith in? She has experience with Jedi protection.” Tebbith holoed and Larr came up looking bright-eyed.
“Teb! What’s going on?”
“Nadia Grell is gifted with the Force. We have just established that Senator Grell does not want his daughter to be trained on Tython.”
“Safest place in the galaxy, thanks to yours truly. Still, I get it. I was seventeen when the Jedi noticed my talent. I won't say they're perfect guides, but they did teach me how to master myself so I could reliably use my power. Plus, nobody else gives out lightsaber lessons, unless you want to ask a Sith.”
Nadia looked at Larr’s image and at Tebbith’s face. She turned back to the Twi’lek. “Could I still travel with my father?”
“If we ask nicely. I bet they'd let you be Teb's padawan.”
Tebbith's face snapped toward Larr. “I'm not old enough to train a padawan!”
“I have one, and I'm nineteen. This'll be good for you both. Just…be steady, Teb. Teach her patience.” She looked to Nadia. “He's really the best possible instructor. And you, if you have any problems, talk to me. I may be a galaxy-trotting sophisticate now, but I know something about culture shock.”
Nadia nodded fervently. “Thank you. Thank you both.”
“Yes, thank you.” The Senator nodded formally. “We have much to consider.”
Nadia spoke with lilting amusement. “Didn't you see the decision being made, Father? I'm going to be a Jedi.”
The Senator's face spasmed only briefly. “And Sarkhai?”
“We all bring what we are,” Tebbith said gently. “This is a pillar of the Jedi way. I don't intend to brainwash your daughter. But a larger world awaits.”
Nadia's eyes were huge. “I'm ready. I think I'm ready.”
Tebbith froze, staring at nothing. “I need a lesson plan,” he said in a panicked voice. “And demonstrations. And visual aids!”
“He'll warm up,” Larr said breezily. “Just takes a few days when the cause is important. I’ll see you soon, we’ll get everything settled. All right?”
“All right,” said Nadia.
“All right,” Tobas said doubtfully.
“It’ll be all right,” Tebbith said to himself. “Oh, my.”
“Okay,” said Larr, “I’ll see you as fast as I can haul jets.”
*
Fade was happy to leave the Jedi behind. They answered to their own law far away in Jediland, and Fade’s entire thing was protecting people under her standards and Republic law. She did not consent to changing requirements every time a Jedi beckoned.
She took a break with the squad on a hilltop. Quesh was a weird place, a jumble of orange and sickly green. Everything felt like it would give you a chemical burn if you stayed sitting or staring or touching anything too long. Even the sky bled too easily if you looked upward.
Fade’s holo nudged her. She scarfed down the remnants of her ration bar and took a look.
It was just a picture from Balmorra. A holo of Jaxo and Tare’s upper bodies wearing gaudy T-shirts in a muddled light. It had the caption, WISH YOU WERE HERE BUT THREE TIX WAS TOO EXPENSIVE.
She grinned and recorded a reply, “Love you skinflints. See you soon.”
Tanno Vik leaned over toward Dorne. “The Captain has a family?”
“A fact she makes no secret of,” Dorne said. “Everyone around here has a sibling.”
“Nope,” said Jorgan. “Not my circus, not my littermates.” Dorne shot him a teasing look.
Vik coughed. “My sainted mother would be so happy I’ve found a new family.”
“New lobel family at two o’clock. Look sharp.” Fade tapped her cannon and aimed at the orange creatures flailing up the slope toward where Havoc had, for a moment, rested.
Jorgan stood beside her. “These herds ever make you nervous?”
“Why would they? I have all of you.”
*
The first thing Doc knew about Hoth was that nobody wanted to go there.
The second thing Doc learned about Hoth was that Larr Gith, and all her friends, were going there.
She at least had the decency to take them to a well-equipped store, where Doc found that nothing was flattering but at least he would have cold-weather gear that fit. The Jedi paid for everything, a comforting perk. Doc had known riches and he’d known poverty, and he preferred the former where possible.
The surface of Hoth was a wide glass dish under a high glass sky with nothing but bone-slicing wind in between. Doc huddled over his speeder and followed Larr. Somehow Kira and Teeseven were back on the Prodigy Burst. That was a genius move.
They were supposedly supported on this mission for the parts needed to assault the Emperor’s fortress—which, by the way, was crazy—by a grim Chagrian officer named Rusk. Doc knew Chagrians. They were amphibians, which made treating them complicated. Funny, that this one should have gone as far from liquid water as was possible on any planet’s surface. Water, water, everywhere, and not a drop to breathe.
A pack of ice cats made themselves Larr’s problem on the wide icy road. She dismounted with a leap and started laying down the law. Doc stopped in a more traditional manner and fired on anything that tried to sneak up on her. Stars, she was something, flashy and unstoppable. He wondered whether she knew that she was beautiful when she did it.
Who was he kidding? Of course she knew. That was probably half the reason she fought the way she did.
A gout of blood flew exactly the wrong way and hit Larr across the lower face. The cloth she breathed through was now soaked with thick, fresh blood.
Doc jogged to her side. “Larr?” he called over the keening of the wind. “You okay?”
“Ew,” she yelled. She dispatched the last cat. Her gloved hands started fumbling at her contaminated mask.
“You’ll freeze,” he yelled back, and started pulling at his clean one. “Take this one.”
“You’ll freeze.”
“I’ve got the invincible ’stache. Take this.”
She leaned closer to him and suddenly laughed. “Got an idea.” She leaned in and kissed him. Her mouth was dry and hard and tepid from the weather. Their goggles bumped comically. He tilted his head and reached a light lock and carefully touched his tongue to her lip. She shivered hard and met him halfway and nothing was cold or dry or unpleasant for probably a million years or so.
Somehow they parted, not very far. “That was a pretty good start,” he said. “Imagine how much better it’ll be when I can actually touch you.”
“You should know,” she said firmly. “I don't... not with men I don't know well.”
Not even Sarkus? It was impossible to judge a facial expression with goggles. He said, intently, “And how can ol’ Doc get to know you, gorgeous?”
“With time. Time and good behavior. I could make you want to wait…but why make this easier?” She snatched his mask from his hands, smoothed it over her mouth, and leaped to her speeder. They needed to get back before his pretty face froze.
*
Lieutenant Felix Iresso was probably the cutest person Tebbith had ever met. Attros Finn faded into obscurity.
And, for many reasons, Tebbith couldn’t follow that train of thought. Instead, he worked with Larr to scare off a comical number of pirates, and dispatch one immortal one. Over, and over.
*
Sergeant Rusk met Larr in Aurek Base, having executed his half of the Star of Coruscant raid.
His squad trailed. Two were limping. One was clutching a red stain on his side.
Rusk marched right up to Larr and saluted. “Objective complete, Master Jedi. Squad strength one hundred percent.”
Larr leaned to look past him. “The private immediately behind you is bleeding over his own hand. Putting him back into combat would be criminal. If that’s what you mean by one hundred percent.”
“He can still shoot straight, Master Jedi.”
“Honey…he shouldn’ t have to.”
Rusk seemed to be sensing something wrong. “We carried the objective…Master…Jedi?”
“Well done,” said General Grayne. “And I’d say you found a constructive partnership. I’ll assign him to you, Master Jedi.”
“You will not!”
Grayne looked startled. “Ma’am, a military liaison can only be a benefit for both our roles.”
“You can’t liaise with a guy who got everyone in the room killed. And even if I could, I wouldn’t.”
Rusk stood with no expression on his craggy features.
“Larr?” Tebbith said gently. “He can’t improve if he doesn’t have an example.”
“And ‘I should care about his development’,” Larr finished sulkily. “Fine, Master Tebbith. You get Cutie-pie there—” she tossed Iresso a flip salute—“and I get Hard Case. Sergeant, anything to say for yourself?”
“Master Jedi. I’ll do my best.”
Absolutely no remorse for the thrashing he had put his squad through. “I don’t really know who you are or where you came from, but from now on you do as I tell you. And I tell you to heal. And protect. And help. And value the people at your elbow every bit as much as you value whatever you think you’re fighting for, a topic we will be visiting intensely before you take the field with me again.”
Rusk looked more than a little taken aback. “Yes, Master Jedi. I’ll do that.”
Lieutenant Iresso, by contrast, smiled and brought a tiny bag of belongings. Larr noticed Tebbith’s total absence of objections, something that such an overthinker wouldn’t do in a neutral situation.
But she didn’t comment on it. Let Tebbith realize in his own time.
*
When Fade took out her holo in the chilly cantina, Vik surprised the hell out of her by walking up behind her. “Boss?”
She jump-whirled. “You haven’t lost the ship, have you?”
“Nah, all there. Even the most expensive removable elements. No, I have good news for you. A deal came through from Balmorra. Another deal. Here’s your cut.” He held out a credstick.
Fade cast a hysterical look around. There were multiple patrons, all pretending not to listen. “Are you serious? I don’t want that!”
“So donate it. Throw it out the airlock. I don’t care, it’s yours.”
And, policy aside, he did have a weird loyalty. That’s what tightened Fade’s fingers around the credstick. “Come with me.”
“Boss?” This time it was wary.
She led him down to the hangars and onto the Havoc Go Fast and around to the mess. She tapped her holo to open the hidden compartment at the back of the pantry. She pulled out a brown flimsi case of little foil-wrapped squares.
Tanno Vik’s eyes took it in without missing a detail. “Excuse me for suggesting it, sir, but that looks like a case of Geonosian spark wafers, which have been illegal to import since the war.”
Thanks, Tare. “And they’re delicious, and you get some. I’ll put your holo on the access list. Just leave some for the rest of us, it takes a little effort to get more.”
Vick plucked a square from the case, then frowned at Fade. “I can’t figure you, Boss. Are you lawful? Are you not?”
“I’m simple, Vik. I look after my people. Sometimes I save the Republic, too. Now I have to get back out there. Bon appetit.”
*
The Gauntlet operation was a success. The Gauntlet operation was a success. Starting a war was probably about the greatest thing Fade had ever done.
Fade sagged over the holoprojector where General Garza had congratulated her. Her stomach was roiling. The back of her throat was scratchy with something foul.
The voice was unwelcome. Jorgan’s voice always prodded her when she hesitated. She could never stop hearing it, sometimes when its owner wasn’t even there.
“It's not easy. Leading after a loss.”
“Dorne'll be okay,” Fade told herself.
“This time. This time we're fine, given a few weeks’ leave. You did good.”
Fade nodded. “Yeah. We’ll get back to full strength.”
Jorgan looked at her torso a moment too long. “When you have a feeling… your whole body reacts. The armor doesn't hide it.” Quietly, “So I have to ask. Are you really okay?”
“I will be. When she’s back.” It was a horrible thought, that Dorne might not have returned at all. “I know. It’s stupid. Thousands of Republic troops are wounded or worse every day.”
“But she's the one right in front of you.”
“You get it.”
“You can't second guess yourself now.” He stepped closer and brought one hand to the level of her shoulder. After one pregnant second, he let it touch her. “You ever feel something other than stress and kill shots?”
“You mean in general, or when you’re around?”
“There a distinction, sir?”
There shouldn’t be. “I…can’t answer that.”
“Yeah,” he said. “You do feel it.” How could he determine that when his eyes never left hers? “That’s all, Captain.”
*
The next day. The next damned day. Jorgan found Fade on the bridge. “Got you something, sir.”
Fade stared at him. “You…uh? Really?”
Jorgan held it out: a silver pendant, two abstract swooshes around a dusky colorless stone that sparkled madly in the light. “Bought the stone off a trader a few years back. Had a Theelin jeweler fit it for me. Thought it’d look nice on you.”
“Jorgan, it…it’s beautiful.” She took it from his warm hand and felt a stab of self-consciousness. “Am I visibly feeling again?”
He grinned wolfishly. “Afraid so, sir. It confirms a thing or two.”
“I’m your commander,” she said. “You know there are things we can’t do.”
“Really? Because you’ve bent regs before. With care and intention.”
“Not in a way that might endanger you.”
“I’ve said it before. I’ll say it again. You don’t have to protect me.”
She put the necklace on. The chain was cool against her skin. She could practically feel the light refracting through the dark crystal.
“I was right,” he said. “Are we going to stand this close not touching for the rest of our careers?”
The main holo beeped, surely louder than usual. Fade jumped away and trotted to receive.
General Garza appeared. “Captain. There's been an incident. We’ve discovered the location of POW camp administered by the Imperials. Three hundred Republic prisoners of war are trapped there. You’re going to get them out.”
“Yes, sir.” There was nothing else to say.
*
Larr Gith stopped outside the Council chambers.
Satele Shan was standing there, waiting.
“I suppose you’ve told Tebbith all about the mission,” she said quietly.
“Can he come with me?”
“There’s been an emergency with the Sarkhai. He is dealing with it. We don’t have time to spare waiting for him. You know that strength won’t decide this. Neither will attachments.”
“Teb is completely neutral, you know that. I can be, too.”
A cluster of Jedi was already standing in the Council chamber. Larr walked in and stopped. Even she could sense when too many personalities were getting too big.
Jomar Chul, whom Larr had always considered friendly, glared at her. “I had a vision, Larr.”
“Our path is prepared,” Tol Braga said quietly.
“My vision was clear. She was torturing her own crew. Her face was blank, cold. Sith.”
“Not this time,” said Satele. “Not this mission.”
“We have the right people,” said Warren Sedoru, of Balmorra fame. “It’s time.”
Leeha Narezz nodded firmly. “Are you ready, Larr?”
Born ready. “This was a great idea and we’ve got great people. I’ll protect you.”
*
They parted the cloaking of the Dromund Kaas satellite. The Jedi Masters and their equal, Larr Gith, scattered to survey the area, looking for where the Emperor lurked. Larr Gith assumed the Emperor was lurking. This seemed natural, what other hobby would a Sith lich even have?
Still, she felt better when she reunited with the others. They had found a round pit…a throne room. A familiar, giant red Sith stood, waiting.
“Emperor’s Wrath, I presume.” Larr gave a flip salute. “Please, stand aside. I have business with your master.”
A figure lost in the darkness of the throne reached out. And suddenly, despite Larr’s superior combat ability, despite her elders’ meditations and preparations, despite the fact that in a reasonable world she would have kicked everyone’s ass…in spite of this, no one had any business at all.
*
Satele Shan stood on the steps of the Temple, watching the calmly attentive Jedi as much as the fireworks show they had invited for the otherwise sedate activities.
Tebbith walked up so quickly that two large Jedi melted out of the shadows, ready to drag him away from her. Satele inclined her head a tiny bit and they melted right back in.
“Master Tebbith,” she said quietly. “Happy New Year.”
“Where is Larr Gith?”
“She hasn’t returned yet.”
“She’s not going to,” Tebbith said. “Something’s gone wrong. My sense of her, it’s…it’s twisted. Something terrible has happened. You sent her to the Emperor. Where is she?”
Satele turned her head and weighed Tebbith openly. “You must not allow your awareness of her to distract you. You are a Jedi first, Tebbith, and a faithful friend second.”
“Will you tell me where she went?”
“And lose you as well? No.”
She was being difficult for the sake of being difficult. Treating this like a youngling’s trial of patience. And Larr Gith was hurting, maybe dying, on the task Satele had set her on. A lifetime of patience, and training, and respect, and self-denial, stood against one struggling bond, and failed. He spat at her feet. “Good New Year, Master.” He made for the landing pads.
*
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