Author’s Notes: The following story takes place in my Halcyon Legacy storyline during the five-year gap from Knights of the Fallen Empire. Content warnings for character death and implied character death. Seriously people – there’s some angst in this one, along with some negative tropes that I couldn’t completely avoid.
Slumped against the ruined wall of what had effectively become a foxhole, Nalen Raloch flinched as Bengel Morr wrapped the last of their kolto-pads around his injured left arm. Above them, the skies of Tython had grown dark with smoke even though the local time was still late afternoon. Mere meters away, the sounds of battle continued to rage, as Zakuulan walkers rained down rockets and fire on their position.
The Twi’lek Jedi had taken a blaster bolt from a Skytrooper as they had dived for cover, and he was struggling to bare the pain. But he suspected that his anguished reaction came less from Bengel’s application of first aid and more to the sudden absence in the Force he’d felt in that same instant. Glancing into the Nautolan’s dark eyes and observing the flicker of hardening resolve, he understood immediately that Bengel had felt the same thing Nalen himself had, confirming what had taken place.
Ako Domi was dead. Killed buying his fellow two Jedi enough time to flee to this makeshift trench.
They were now the only survivors of their battlegroup; what had effectively become the rear guard covering the Order’s final evacuation from Tython. They had both felt the others fall, one by one, until they had reached this point.
And they’d just run out of room to run.
The forces of the Eternal Empire were taking no prisoners. They had laid waste to first to Tython’s defenses, then to the temple and now to everything in their path.
It was possible in this moment that Bengel and Nalen were the last two Jedi alive on Tython.
Dozens if not hundreds of Jedi and Republic soldiers had met the Force this day, demonstrating incredible courage every step of the way. They’d known rebuffing the attack was futile, of course, but they could still ensure the future of the Order. Even as the defenders had abandoned the temple, they had successfully drawn the Eternal Empire’s forces away from the main evacuation points. Despite the overwhelming odds, the Jedi had been able to extract most of their number from the planet in good order. But the small battlegroups of guardians and defenders who had screened them – including Bengel and Nalen’s – had paid a staggering price.
They’d been preparing for this day for months. The Zakuulan invasion had stormed into the Republic unchecked, despite countless sacrifices by the Jedi and the Republic military just to slow it down. A few weeks before, Satele Shan, the Grandmaster of the Order and one of the few members of the council still alive, had gone missing during a mission to cut behind the Eternal Empire’s lines. Some who knew her were convinced that she was still alive – that they hadn’t felt her death through the Force – but regardless of the truth of the matter, her absence had finally signaled to everyone that the war was lost.
Nalen didn’t know the details, but he knew the Jedi weren’t retreating to another Republic world, one where they’d only draw more attacks from Zakuul. Enough people had already died protecting them. Gnost-Dural, the Order’s greatest historian, had claimed he’d found a place for them to withdraw and recover, as they’d withdrawn to Tython nearly twenty years earlier after the Sack of Coruscant.
Now, amidst the Ruins of Kaleth, south of where the Jedi Temple had once stood, Nalen and Bengel were making their final stand.
As Bengel finished wrapping Nalen’s wound, the Twi’lek couldn’t help but appreciate the Nautolan’s gentle kindness. The feelings were in stark contrast to his reaction to meeting Bengel Morr years earlier.
Nalen distinctly remembered hating him. Hating him for directing the Flesh Raiders against not only the Jedi, but against the Twi’leks of Kalikori Village, his people, as well.
He felt no small amount of shame for that hatred, as well as the shame for the actions he himself had taken in those dark days.
In the years since then, Nalen had seen Bengel turn into the kind of Jedi he was always meant to be. Kind, compassionate, always willing to sacrifice of himself for others.
Proving that the Force moved in mysterious ways, it had been Bengel who had aided Nalen the most in acclimating to the ways of the Jedi.
Nalen himself had been old for a padawan, and his experiences with the holocron of Rajivari had left him in an incredibly dark place.
He could admit now that he’d needed Bengel’s support.
In the years since, they’d effectively become partners, ever since Nalen’s Knighting.
Two years earlier, they’d both been absent on a reconnaissance expedition into the Flesh Raider territory in the Tythonian highlands when the forces of the Sith Empire – led by the infamous Darth Nox – had attacked Tython and briefly seized control of the temple. By the time their group had made it back, it was all over. The Jedi had regained their home and driven off the Imperials, but the losses had been high. It had been all they could do to aid in recovery efforts, helping the wounded… and counting the dead.
Both Nalen and Bengel had vowed that day to never allow such a thing to happen again.
Now the temple had fallen once again, this time literally. But if the bulk of the Jedi could escape, they’d make good on the promise made that day.
It would all be worth it.
Bengel lifted his head up as he finished patching up Nalen’s arm.
“The firing stopped.”
Nalen blinked, absent-mindedly checking his arm. He realized his companion was right; the whole valley seemed to have gone quiet. He heard only the crinkling of distant fire, and his own heavy breathing.
The Nautolan cautiously risked a peek over the wall.
“They’re getting into position.” He reported, ducking back and sitting beside Nalen. “Skytroopers, Knights of Zakuul and Walkers. They know we’re here.”
Nalen simply nodded his head sharply, checking his lightsaber.
“How many?”
Bengel turned towards Nalen. Nautolans had a somewhat unfair reputation for frequently smiling with unnerving grins, even at questionably inappropriate times. Bengel’s smile usually wasn’t like that. It was slight, but sincere and kind. Just like Bengel himself was.
Nalen had often found comfort in that smile.
But today – in this moment – Bengel Morr gave Nalen the grimmest, toothiest smile Nalen had ever seen, teeth and all.
“All of them, I think.”
Nalen looked down and chuckled. He didn’t know what kind of answer he’d expected, but he took comfort in the fact that Bengel could still joke at a time like this.
Before he could respond, the Twi’lek’s holo-communicator beeped.
Reluctantly, Nalen pulled it out and activated it.
A small projection appeared of Master Ulannium Kaarz, Barsen’thor of the Order and one of the few remaining members of the council. The man who had once foiled Nalen’s misguided efforts to destroy the Jedi back when he’d been under the dark side’s thrall.
The Mirialan had grown since Nalen had first met him all those years before, when Ulannium had just been a padawan and Nalen had been Kalikori Village’s premier defender, revered by his people as a hero. His passion to protect the villagers had led him down a dark path; one that Ulannium in his mercy and wisdom had saved him from.
Ulannium had already been considered wise beyond his years even then. Since those days, he’d emerged as the finest Jedi Master of his generation, the youngest Jedi to sit on the council in centuries. Physically, his build was still rather slight, but he now stood tall as a Gen’Dai.
As was the case with Bengel, Nalen couldn’t begin to express how much he owed to the Jedi Master. Bengel might have aided him down this path, but it had been Ulannium who had started him on it.
“Master Ulannium.” Nalen dipped his head in a heartfelt greeting.
Ulannium had told him more than once that he could call him by his given name. He’d never taken him up on that offer.
“Nalen. The last transport is away.” Ulannium grimly reported. His voice was unfailingly calm, despite the obvious urgence of the situation. “Master Oteg led the remnants of the First Expeditionary Fleet in a last-ditch attack on the Eternal Fleet ships in orbit. It worked. They sacrificed themselves to give us a window to escape. We’re jumping to hyperspace in just a few minutes.”
Nalen exhaled in relief, and he noted the reassured look on Bengel’s face as well. Like Ulannium and Gnost-Dural, Oteg had served as a respected member of the Jedi Council these last few years, but no one had ever forgotten that he was first and foremost an admiral of the Republic fleet.
The Jedi Master’s sacrifice this day had proven that beyond all doubt.
“Good.” He swallowed. “Then it was all for something.”
Ulannium nodded and pressed on. Business as usual. For all his tone, he might have been discussing an archaeological expedition.
“You’ll also be relieved to know there’s no sign that the Zakuulans are moving against Kalikori Village.”
Nalen exhaled again. He’d refused to admit it aloud to his fellow Jedi, but his greatest worry all this time had been that the Eternal Empire would turn and wreck the same destruction upon the people he had protected as they had the Jedi.
“The fleet is almost ready. We haven’t been able to hail the other battle groups.” He didn’t need to express what that meant. “What’s the status of your team?”
The Twi’lek had expected this question. His answer was at the ready.
“Bengel and I are the only ones left, Master Ulannium.”
The Mirialan’s face turned grim.
“There might still be time.” He offered. Nalen appreciated the sentiment, even it was no more than a pipe dream at this point. “Can the two of you reach one of the extraction points?”
He knew the answer to this question as well, but he still hesitated, looking over towards his more experienced partner.
Bengel simply gave Nalen a slight shake of his head.
There was no sadness or despair in the Nautolan’s features; a trace of regret, perhaps, but there was also a resolve and acceptance. Whatever nightmares had plagued Bengel years ago when they’d first met, whatever had made him take control of the Flesh Raiders and to threaten Nalen’s people… Bengel was an entirely different man, today. He was still haunted by his own actions during those dark days, but he was determined to make up for them.
That resolve filled Nalen with admiration and strengthened his own determination as he turned back to the projection of Ulannium.
“No.” he finally answered. “Don’t worry about us, Master Ulannium. Save the Jedi. Save our people. And…. thank you. Thank you for showing me a better path. Thank you for this chance. Thank you for everything.”
Nalen swallowed.
“It has been an honor.”
Through the holo-display, the Barsen'thor’s tired eyes softened.
“It’s been my honor to have known you, Nalen.” For a fleeting moment, Ulannium looked more like the young Jedi whom Nalen had met all those years ago, with a bright, limitless future ahead of him. “Thank you. May the Force be with you.”
The projection flickered then deactivated, leaving the Jedi alone.
Our people. Nalen had called the Order that for the first time today. If he’d felt like an outsider all these years, then now, in this moment at least, he was a Jedi.
He turned towards his companion. The Nautolan was gazing off into the distance.
“I saw the best Jedi of my generation fall to the Sith on Coruscant.” Bengel’s voice was sad, but clear. “Then I saw them try to do it again here on Tython two years ago.”
He turned towards Nalen, meeting his gaze.
“The Jedi will survive this day.” His confidence was infectious. “For my own part, as I see it, I’ve been living on borrowed time.”
Part of Nalen recognized that he felt the same. He padded Bengel’s knee affectionately, then rose, careful to keep his head down beneath the wall’s edge. Bengel followed suit a second later.
As Nalen gathered himself, he regarded Bengel, even now poised to leap out over the wall and give a final accounting of himself. Nautolans, as a species, preferred aquatic environments, he knew. Yet here, far from any body of water, Bengel was poised like a Nexu; grace and agility ready to explode with power.
For such a moment, Nalen felt he had to say something to express how he felt.
“Bengel… I just had a crazy idea.”
Seamlessly, Bengel turned back to Nalen questioningly. The Twi’lek found his courage and pressed on.
“When this is all over, would you like to join me at the cantina for a drink?”
Bengel’s dark eyes regarded Nalen, vacant for a moment.
The cantina – along with most of the Jedi temple – had been buried beneath tons of rubble hours before during the earlier attack.
The corners of Bengel’s lips turned upward in one of his kind smiles. It was full of warmth and made Nalen’s stomach turn over.
“I would like that.”
The Nautolan now reached out and offered Nalen his hand.
“You ready?”
Nalen smiled back. In this moment, he felt free. He reached out and grasped Bengel’s hand, squeezing it in his grip. This simple gesture communicating more than words ever could.
“I’m ready.”
He only wished they’d had more time.
But they had this moment. And that was something.
Moving in unison, the two Jedi leapt over the wall.
END
Author’s Notes: I don’t know how many of you have seen the movie Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. It’s a fine film, even if it is mostly dated fiction. This story was largely inspired by the final scene of that film. The emotional connection between the two protagonists – romantic or not – left an impression.
Bengel’s little joke is a Terminator 2 reference. (I don’t know how many of you are old enough to catch that one, either.) The stereotype about Nautolans is a Kit Fisto reference.
I regret not writing much about Ulannium until now. I chose this as my next piece in part to resolve that.
We never hear about what happens to Nalen Raloch after Tython, albeit we do see Bengel on Corellia. Both characters deserved a proper follow up, as do Oteg, who we meet on the Republic side during the two “rescue Revan” Flashpoints.
Ako Domi is the Jedi who was imprisoned on Nar Shaddaa in Shadow Town by the Sith Empire and turned to the dark side. Republic players have a chance to either rescue (and redeem) him, or to execute him. If you spare him, you get a letter from Satele thanking you, and informing the player that he was recovering. We never hear a follow-up after this, but I like to think that he met his end as a Jedi. The idea of a group of Jedi who had each experienced turns under the dark side and were now serving as the Order’s final defense was a compelling idea for me.
Tagging @taraum @kyber-heart and @grandninjamasterren who all expressed interest in this premise in a post I put on Tumblr ages ago.
Also tagging cavalier-life @consularmain @cuchulainnx19 @darksunning @imkerf-uffle-d @kemendin @kgoblin @lordviridis @sith-as-heck @starknstarwars @the-raven-of-highever @vexa-legacy for liking my Six Sentence Sunday updates.
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