24 BBY: Ilum
When I returned to the cave's entrance, Master Jorik was waiting, his expression alight with quiet satisfaction.
"It seems you've returned, Padawan," he said, his tone warm but steady. "You have passed this trial, faced your fears, and earned your reward. I'm sure you're eager to assemble your lightsaber. Let us return to the ship."
"Right away, Master."
As much as I loathed the idea of wielding this crystal, I knew it was unfortunately necessary. Leaving something this dangerous in the cave—or worse, letting it fall into the hands of a fanatic—was a risk I couldn't afford. The ramifications of such negligence would haunt me far longer than the annoyance of safeguarding it myself.
The storm outside had not abated, and we trudged through the howling winds and biting cold, eventually reaching the relative warmth of the ship. Professor Huyang awaited us in the workshop, his photoreceptors glowing faintly as he gestured toward the workbench.
"Tanya, congratulations on obtaining your Kyber Crystal," he said, his tone sincere. "It is the most vital component of your lightsaber. Now that we have all the necessary parts, we can begin the assembly process."
Huyang meticulously laid out the components on the table, explaining each piece as he went. I watched intently, cataloging every detail. The blade emitter, focusing lens, and cycling field energizers were deceptively simple at a glance, but I understood the intricacies hidden beneath their surfaces.
The emitter was the linchpin of the entire design, the foundation upon which the weapon's functionality depended. Without it, the blade would fail to materialize. The focusing lens, meanwhile, was precision incarnate, responsible for channeling the crystal's power into a stable beam. The cycling field energizers ensured stability, preventing the weapon from sputtering out—or worse, overloading catastrophically.
Then came the energy core, the heart of the saber, and the hilt components: the grip, power insulator, and pommel cap. Every piece had a role to play, and any misstep in their assembly would compromise the whole.
"Every part works in harmony," Huyang said, his voice taking on a reverent tone unusual for a droid. "A lightsaber is not merely a weapon; it is an extension of the Jedi who wields it. Its construction demands precision, understanding, and patience in the Force."
I nodded, outwardly respectful. I couldn't help myself from refraining his words. This wasn't just about harmony or philosophy; this was systems engineering at its finest. Each component was a cog in a well-oiled machine, and efficiency was the key. You didn't need the Force to understand engineering. Customization, too, was paramount—the control dials alone offered a range of options, allowing for adaptability in combat scenarios.
When Huyang finished his lecture, I had already mapped out the assembly process in my mind. "I understand. I shall begin construction now."
Closing my eyes, I reached out with the Force, letting it guide my hands. The scattered components were no longer disparate parts; they were pieces of a larger whole, waiting to be united. Drawing on the discipline honed over lifetimes, I began.
Each movement was deliberate, every connection precise. The emitter was installed first, its housing snug and secure. The focusing lens followed, its calibration fine-tuned to perfection. The cycling field energizers clicked into place with a reassuring finality, ensuring the blade's stability.
The hilt components came together seamlessly, their balance perfect for my hand. When I reached the Kyber Crystal, I hesitated, feeling its resonance through the Force. Its golden glow pulsed faintly, as if mocking my reluctance. Despite my contempt for Being X's meddling, I could not deny the crystal's power.
I held my breath, carefully inserting it into the energy core. For a brief moment, it pulsed brighter, almost as if it recognized me. My lips tightened into a thin line, but I pressed on, locking it into place with painstaking precision.
I extended my hand, calling the lightsaber to me. Its weight was solid, reassuring. Adjusting the control dials, I primed the energy core, feeling its hum resonate through the hilt. With a deliberate flick of my thumb, I activated it.
A blade of frost-green energy burst forth with a sharp, resonant hum, illuminating the workshop with its pale glow. Shadows danced across the walls, cast by the scattered tools and components left on the table.
I stared at the blade, my grip tightening. This was more than a weapon. It was an extension of my will—a tool forged through my own skill and discipline. I refuse to use the "blessing" infused in this weapon.
Master Jorik stepped forward, his expression proud. "Congratulations, Jedi Knight Tanya Valken. Through your dedication to your training, you have proven yourself to the Jedi Order at such a young age. May the Force guide you always."
I inclined my head in a respectful bow. "I'm honored, Master."
Deactivating the blade, I clipped it to my belt. Its weight was a constant reminder of what I stood for. Although Being X had cursed this weapon, I vowed to wield it on my own terms. Whatever plans he had for me, I would resist him at every turn.
This was merely another chapter in our battle. And I intended to win.
When we arrived back on Coruscant, Master Jorik and I disembarked from Huyang's ship, offering the droid our thanks. Ever polite, Huyang gave a slight mechanical bow before retreating to his workshop.
23 BBY: Coruscant
"Tanya," Jorik said, "the Jedi Council has summoned you. They wish to speak with you directly. This is a rare honor."
I nodded, masking the unease that flickered through me. The Council's attention was inevitable, given my rapid progress, but it was far from reassuring. In my past lives, "interest" from the upper brass usually meant one thing: more work, less freedom. Still, I knew better than to squander this opportunity. This could be a step toward solidifying my position—and gaining the autonomy I so desperately craved.
The corridors of the temple buzzed with activity as we made our way to the Council Chambers. Jedi and temple staff moved with quiet efficiency, their faces serene as if the galaxy weren't teetering on chaos. At the ornate doors leading to the chambers, Jorik paused.
"This is it," he said. "Good luck, Tanya. The Council sees your talent and your potential. Do not doubt yourself."
"Thank you, Master Jorik. I'll do my best."
The doors slid open with a low hum, revealing the circular chamber bathed in golden light. High-backed chairs formed a semi-circle, each occupied by a figure radiating calm authority.
As I stepped to the center of the room, their collective gaze bore down on me with the weight of expectation. Grandmaster Yoda broke the silence.
"Jedi Knight Tanya Valken, pleased the Jedi Council is. Honored we are to welcome you here. Absent today, Masters Plo Koon and Ki-Adi-Mundi are. Matters urgent, they attend."
"It's no problem, Grandmaster. I am honored to be here."
"Satisfied I am," Yoda replied, his ears twitching slightly.
Mace Windu leaned forward, his expression serious and his tone measured. "You have demonstrated extraordinary skill and discipline. Your actions have further proven your dedication. As such, the Council has decided to entrust you with a new assignment. From this moment, you now work directly under Master Jorik on an official matter of great importance. He will brief you shortly."
"I understand, Master Windu," I replied, inclining my head respectfully. "May I ask a question before we proceed?"
"You may," Windu replied, gesturing for me to continue.
I turned my gaze to Grandmaster Yoda. "Grandmaster, before I set off on my assignment, I humbly request a lesson from the Grandmaster. As a student, I strive to improve, and learning from the best would inspire and guide me."
"Hmmmm," Yoda mused, his expression thoughtful. "Of great importance your mission is. Complete it, and your request I shall fulfil."
"Thank you, Grandmaster. I shall not fail this mission."
"Very good," Yoda replied with a slow nod.
"If there is nothing further," Windu said, leaning back in his chair, "this meeting is adjourned. May the Force be with you, Tanya."
I bowed deeply before exiting the chamber. Outside, Jorik was waiting.
"Tanya," he began as we walked, his tone steady but edged with urgency, "I must brief you on the situation. After the Trade Federation imposed a blockade on Naboo. It became a shocking development, one that threw the Senate into chaos."
"Naboo?" I asked, my brow furrowing. "A temperate planet with energy exports. Why blockade it? What does the Trade Federation want?"
Jorik's expression darkened. "Officially, it's a dispute over trade routes and tariffs imposed by the Senate. Unofficially, it's a demonstration of power. Naboo's strategic location makes it vital to regional trade, and controlling it would give the Federation considerable leverage."
"And the Senate let this happen?" I asked.
"The Republic relies on diplomacy and the Jedi to maintain peace," Jorik said with a sigh. "It has no standing military, only fleets and forces provided by individual systems. That's part of the problem. The Trade Federation has its own droid armies and fleets, while the Republic debates endlessly."
"So Naboo was defenseless?"
"It was," Jorik admitted. "But Chancellor Valorum sent Jedi Masters Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi to mediate. However the events ultimately turned to violence. The council has dispatched us to Onderon to prevent a recurrence of this situation."
"Onderon?" I echoed, my thoughts racing as I shifted focus.
"The blockade rippled through the Outer Rim," Jorik explained. "Systems like Onderon fear they'll be next, especially those with vital resources or trade routes. Our mission is twofold: to reassure Onderon of the Jedi's commitment to peace and to gather intelligence on any emerging threats."
I nodded, though my mind lingered on Naboo. A private conglomerate with enough force to blockade a planet? A Republic too fractured to respond? The galaxy's political landscape was worse than I had anticipated. And with Being X's meddling, I doubted this was mere coincidence.
As I returned to my quarters, my thoughts churned with the implications of Jorik's briefing. The Trade Federation's audacity, the Republic's weakness, the rising tension—it all pointed to something much larger on the horizon.
I awoke early the next morning, my mind sharp with purpose. This mission requires thorough preparation. I grabbed the necessary gear for this mission. I must be vigilant. My inexperience of Onderon's geography and politics is a liability I need to mitigate.
When I stepped outside, Master Jorik was waiting, his expression calm yet resolute.
"Tanya, I'm glad you're ready," he said. "Our ship is awaits us. The Council has assigned us a T-6 Jedi Shuttle for this mission."
"Understood, Master. Let us depart immediately."
We set off, the weight of the galaxy's turmoil looming over us.
23 BBY Coruscant:
A hooded figure sat in the shadowed recess of a dimly lit chamber, a faint hum of distant machinery the only sound as he pondered over the latest intelligence. Tanya Valken, the upstart Jedi, had been promoted to Knight and reassigned.
Moments later, a communication device activated, casting an eerie glow over his hidden visage. On the other end, a holographic figure appeared, kneeling in respect, their features obscured by a similar hood. The air between them crackled with an unspoken understanding.
"The Jedi Council has given a person of interest a new mission," the hooded figure began, his voice deliberate. "She is being sent to Onderon with Jedi Master Jorik."
The contact straightened slightly. "I see, do you wish for her to be intercepted, master?"
The hooded figure leaned forward, his tone laden with menace. "Intercepted, yes—but subtly. We cannot afford to be too risky over this child. With her and a Jedi Master involved, it can be tricky. She could be useful but is not vital to our plans. Send an agent. Someone skilled enough to operate in the shadows and not lead back to us."
The contact bowed their head. "As you command, master. It shall be done."
The hooded figure's voice sharpened. "And be mindful. The Jedi may be fools, but even fools can be dangerous when cornered. Ensure there are no loose ends. The element of surprise is paramount."
"Understood."
The communication ended, and the hooded figure smiled with appeasement.
23 BBY: On the Outskirts of Onderon
The planet loomed ahead, its surface a patchwork of dense forests and sprawling settlements. The hyperspace journey had been long, giving me ample time to dwell on the situation at hand. Preparation was key, and I had ensured every detail was in place.
Given my youthful appearance and the nature of this mission, I had decided to wear a mask—a calculated precaution to command respect and deflect underestimation. I had designed it myself back at the temple, drawing inspiration from the samurai of my first life.
The mask was striking: dark and metallic, its sharp, exaggerated features carved with intricate red accents. It was a deliberate design, one meant to evoke intimidation and authority. The subtle patterns etched across its surface hinted at both elegance and danger. When I placed it over my face, I felt the weight of its symbolism—a shield against prejudice and a reminder of the pragmatism I lived by.
My hair remained tied in the same military fashion I had worn in the Empire. A familiar style, efficient and unassuming. Combined with the mask, my appearance now projected what I needed it to: control and confidence.
For this mission, I wore the standard Jedi tunic, with a robe. The Jedi would work best concealed. Especially with the nature of this mission in mind.
As we prepared to disembark, Jorik turned to me, his expression calm but focused.
"Tanya, are you ready for this mission?"
My mask altered the pitch of my voice slightly, lending an edge to its girlish timbre. "I am prepared, Master. How shall we proceed?"
Jorik nodded, his gaze lingering on the mask for a moment. "Your mask suits you well. Where did you get the inspiration?
"It was inspired by a culture I read about in the archives."
"Well, you'll have to show me someday. Anyway, as you know, not everyone here is welcoming to Jedi. Our mission is to negotiate, but keep your eyes open. Stay vigilant and focused."
"Understood," I replied.
As the ship descended, I allowed myself one final check of my gear. Every detail had been accounted for; the rest would depend on execution. Negotiation was my preferred battlefield, any civilized person like me could appreciate a deal.
Our ship touched down at the bustling port of the capital city, its metallic hum dissipating as the engines powered down. The city stretched out before us, a blend of regal architecture and modern infrastructure—a testament to its delicate balance of tradition and progress.
Awaiting us on the landing platform stood a human representative, his demeanor polished.
"Welcome, Jedi. We send the Republic our regards," he said, inclining his head respectfully.
"Thank you for your hospitality," Jorik replied with a slight bow.
"If you'll follow me, King Ramsis Dendup will see you now."
The representative led us through the city's grand avenues and into the palace, its halls echoing with the faint hum of distant activity. The architecture was imposing, with towering columns and walls adorned with intricate carvings depicting the planet's history.
As we approached the throne room, the large double doors swung open to reveal a grand space bathed in sunlight. The balcony at the far end overlooked the sprawling cityscape, the view both serene and imposing. King Ramsis Dendup sat on his throne, an aging figure whose neutral expression belied the turmoil gripping his planet.
Jorik and I walked forward and kneeled in respect.
"Esteemed Jedi guests," the king began, his voice steady. "It is an honor to host you here."
Jorik rose and inclined his head. "It's a pleasure, King Dendup. I am Jedi Master Jorik, and this is my student, Jedi Knight Tanya. The Council is deeply concerned with the developments on your planet. The escalating conflict presents a significant challenge to manage. We are here to assist your planet and ensure the violence is quelled."
The king's eyes narrowed slightly. "I thank you, Master Jorik. But I must inform you that my people harbor resentment toward the Republic—resentment to which they are entitled. While your mission here is with good intent, my people have a hard time seeing it that way. As such, I must ask, when will the Republic send the aid my people so desperately need?
Jorik hesitated briefly, his expression one of calm diplomacy. "I regret that I cannot comment on that matter, Your Majesty. I do not have the authority to make such promises. What I can offer is to raise your concerns to the Council and push it to the Senate to advocate for immediate action on the matter."
The king's tone sharpened, though his composure remained intact. "My people have petitioned the Senate for aid countless times, only to be met with delays. Their inability to act prudently has worsened our plight. Bureaucracy has constrained the Republics ability to act. Keeping my neutral stance has proven increasingly difficult."
"I understand your frustration," Jorik said, his voice steady. "The Jedi will do what we can to bring your concerns to the forefront. I wish only the best for your people."
The king leaned back slightly, his gaze thoughtful but firm. "Thank you, Master Jedi. Contempt for the Republic festers among my people. As you have been informed, some have turned to violence, calling for secession from the Republic. And as you can imagine, this insurgency has caused many more headaches. Can I rely on you to help restore peace?"
"Of course, Your Majesty," Jorik replied, bowing slightly. "Please provide us with the details, and we shall begin mediation at once."
The king provided us with the approximate location of the rebel group's base, nestled in a town just outside the capital city, Karamesh. From his description, it was clear that these dissidents commanded significant support—enough to openly challenge his rule. Negotiation has also been difficult. The groups distrust of the Republic runs deep. The leader also remains a mystery. I suppressed a sigh, already anticipating the quagmire awaiting us. This is such a mess. Dissisents embittered against the Republic and two Jedi, who are figures of the Republic, arriving on their soil? A volatile combination, to say the least.
This entire situation makes my head hurt, dealing with rebels is always a pain.Considering what happened at Arene, people like this don't go down without a fight. The king's leadership seems to be faltering considering the situation. Calling in Republic support must have been a tough decision. Yet here we were, intervening in a mess that speaks volumes to his desperation.
Jorik's voice pulled me from my thoughts. "Tanya, this mission is dangerous. You must understand the risks involved. While our goal is peaceful negotiation, these rebels have proven they will resort to violence."
"I understand, Master Jorik," I replied evenly. "Vigilance is paramount here."
He studied me for a moment before nodding. "Sometimes, it's hard to believe you're only a child, Tanya. You've matured remarkably fast."
I inclined my head slightly. "Thank you for trusting me, Master."
At the palace gates, a guard awaited us beside a pair of speeder bikes.
"Honored Jedi," the guard said, bowing slightly. "We've provided these speeders for your journey. Safe travels."
"Thank you," Jorik replied, his tone formal. "You have our condolences."
I examined the speeder skeptically. I had never driven one before, though I'd read about their operation extensively. As I settled onto the seat, I quickly familiarized myself with the controls. It was simple, though the mechanics required some adjustment. With a bit of guidance from Jorik, we were soon speeding toward the outskirts of Karamesh.
The wind against my face stirred a sense of remembrance, fleeting memories of soaring through the skies as a combat mage flashing through my mind. War really corrupted my mind. The town soon came into view.
Karamesh was a stark contrast to the capital city's grandeur. Its buildings were patchwork constructions, a mix of weathered stone and haphazard repairs. The streets bore the scars of heavy use, with potholes and cracked pavement speaking to years of neglect. The air was thick with the scent of industry and uncollected refuse, a reminder of the inequality that plagued this planet.
It was a town left to fend for itself, the kind of place where resentment toward the Republic was plausible. I could see why the locals hated their distant overlords. Not that I sympathized—empathy wasn't my mission.
After parking the speeders near a small inn, we tipped the front desk attendant to keep an eye on them.
"We are close, Tanya," Jorik said, his tone low. "Stick close and try to stay concealed. You may be a Jedi Knight, but I am still responsible for you on this mission."
"Understood, Master," I replied.
The streets of Karamesh buzzed with muted activity, its residents casting wary glances as we passed. Their suspicion was palpable, though not unexpected. Jorik and I began questioning locals, our inquiries met with feigned ignorance or evasive answers.
"Excuse me," Jorik asked one merchant, "do you know where we might find the Red Thorn Assembly?"
The merchant's expression darkened. "Sorry, sir. Never heard of them."
"Ah, I see. Thank you for your time."
I suppress the urge to comment. The Jedi's refusal to make efficient use of their mind powers is awfully circuitous. Instead, we wasted precious time sifting through half-truths and evasions, likely giving the rebels time to prepare for us. Naturally some of these locals are associated with them. I know we are here to talk foremost, but these rebels being in mutiny against the king does not give me comfort. I have a feeling that our presence won't change their minds.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a lead emerged. A street vendor reluctantly shared vague directions to a discreet location nearby, though his body language suggested he was holding back.
"Tanya," Jorik said as we neared the address, his voice steady, "based on the information we've gathered, the place should be just ahead. I can feel it through the Force."
"Yes, Master," I replied, closing my eyes briefly and extending my senses. The building ahead emanated tension—fear, anger, and resolve mingled in a volatile mix. The structure itself was unassuming, its windows boarded up and its exterior deliberately nondescript. It was the perfect place for a hidden cell.
"This is likely the place," I said.
As we approached the entrance Jorik placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "Tanya, this is where I must leave you. The building is too dangerous for you to enter. It would pain me if something were to happen to you."
His tone softened slightly. "But don't think you're being sidelined. Your role is crucial. Should things escalate, your task is to prevent anyone from escaping. And if worst comes to worst... you have permission to eliminate hostile threats. But remember, we must show restraint. What we do here could be used against us politically."
I nodded. "Understood, Master. May the Force be with you."
"And with you," he replied before stepping forward, his silhouette disappearing into the shadows of the boarded-up building.
A hooded figure crouched on the rooftop, shrouded in shadow. The faint glow of the sunset outlined their form, but the darkness of their cloak blended seamlessly with the night. Perched like a predator, their movements were calculated and silent, every shift of their weight a testament to honed skill and discipline.
From beneath the hood, a faint gleam of light caught the edge of a mask—sleek and angular, obscuring their features entirely. The mask's surface bore faint etchings, almost ceremonial, but its purpose was purely pragmatic: concealment and intimidation. Beneath it, a pair of sharp eyes scanned the streets below with a predatory focus.
The figure reached inside their cloak, withdrawing a commlink. Its metallic surface gleamed faintly in the moonlight as they brought it to their lips, their voice low and sharp.
"The target is in my sights. Keep the Jedi Master busy for me, understood?"
A crackle of static preceded the reply, a voice tinged with irritation. "This won't be easy, you know. Dealing with a Jedi is no simple task."
The figure's tone remained cold, almost dismissive. "Of course. That's why you're being compensated accordingly. Do your job."
Without waiting for a response, they silenced the commlink with a quick press of a button and tucked it back into their cloak.
Rising slightly, the figure scanned the surrounding rooftops, their movements precise and deliberate. They repositioned themselves, slipping from shadow to shadow, every step a study in efficiency. The slight creak of leather gloves and the faint scuff of boots on stone were the only hints of their presence, soon swallowed by the ambient hum of the city.
The figure paused at the edge of the rooftop, crouching low once more. From this vantage point, they could see the Jedi below—a flicker of robes and a faint shimmer of a lightsaber reflected in the ambient light. The faintest smile tugged at their lips, hidden beneath the mask.
The hunt was about to begin.
Being outside like this was a tactical nightmare. Open streets, high vantage points, limited cover—exposing myself to avenues of attack that would be impossible indoors. This situation was particularly notable as the sun was setting, because we took so long to find this place. Master Jorik likely believed I was safe out here, but his faith in the decency of people was misplaced. In truth, the opposite was far more likely. If there were rebels nearby, the sheer visibility of this position turned me into a target.
At least the mask was proving its worth. If anyone saw a child wandering the streets alone, it would draw more questions than I could deflect. The disguise shielded me from suspicion, granting me the anonymity I needed.
Reaching out with the Force, I felt it: a ripple of unease threading through the atmosphere. Something was wrong. The logical part of my mind pieced it together swiftly—this situation was primed to turn violent. I had been in enough battles to recognize the signs, even before the first shot was fired.
Then I heard it—a faint metallic clank from above.
The rooftops. Someone was watching me.
Instinct honed over lifetimes kicked in. I shifted my position subtly, ready to move. As soon as I began to step aside, a stun round whizzed past me, close enough that the crackling energy singed the air near my arm.
I sprang into motion, my body moving faster than thought. I darted into a nearby alleyway, leaping off the walls with practiced precision. Within moments, I vaulted onto the rooftops, my frost-green lightsaber igniting with a sharp hum as I landed. The blade cast a faint glow around me, illuminating the darkness in fleeting flashes.
Taking cover behind a cluster of old appliances, I steadied my breathing and focused. The shot hadn't come from close range, which meant the shooter had the high ground somewhere nearby. The intent behind a stun blast was unmistakable: they wanted me alive.
Someone was hunting me. And I doubted they would let this opportunity slip through their fingers.
The figure clenched their jaw, frustration boiling beneath their mask. How had the shot missed? The calculations were perfect—trajectory, timing, distance. No matter. The target wouldn't escape.
It was supposed to be an easy mission: capture the girl, collect the payment, and disappear. But this so-called "child" was proving far more elusive than expected.
No matter. A job is a job, and the pay was worth it. Dirty work like kidnapping wasn't a moral concern, especially when the credits flowed as generously as this client promised.
With the target out of sight, the figure moved swiftly, instincts taking over. Smoke grenades hissed to life, plumes of gray billowing into the air to obscure their retreat. Under the cover of smoke, they leapt to another rooftop, their movements precise and practiced. The game wasn't over yet.
Their commlink buzzed faintly, but they ignored it. Focus was paramount now. The girl was cornered, and there was no room for error.
There. That's the bastard.
I spotted them perched on a distant rooftop, their weapon raised and trained on me. A sharp pang of annoyance flickered through my mind—this situation was less than ideal. At this range, I was at a disadvantage. My specialty with a lightsaber was melee combat, where precision and power could overwhelm an opponent. But here? They had the upper hand, and they knew it.
The air crackled as another shot fired in my direction. Raising my lightsaber, I deflected the blast, the energy dissipating harmlessly into the night. My mind raced, assessing my options. A direct charge was the obvious move, but they'd already anticipated that. Their consistent fire was designed to keep me at bay, to force me into a predictable pattern.
I couldn't afford to fall into their trap.
I used the Force to propel myself into a rapid dash across the rooftops, my boots barely making contact with the uneven terrain. Each step was deliberate, guided by instinct and years of experience in battle. Blaster bolts streaked past me, bright streaks in the darkness, but I deflected each one with practiced precision, their energy reflecting off my blade in sharp arcs of light.
They weren't going to let me get close—that much was clear. Whoever this was, they weren't an amateur. They understood my advantage in close quarters and were determined to deny me that opportunity.
I gritted my teeth, frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. Acrobatics and deft footing alone weren't enough to close the gap. Charging headlong was reckless, and recklessness wasn't my style. No, I needed something else—something unexpected.
My eyes flicked across the rooftop terrain, searching for anything I could use. A plan began to take shape, every move calculated, every risk weighed against the potential reward.
This was a game of chess, and I wasn't about to let them control the board.
The target moved with startling agility, darting across the rooftops with a speed that defied my expectations. Their small size only added to the challenge, making them a difficult mark to pin down. Each shot missed its mark by inches, and frustration simmered beneath my calm exterior.
This wasn't just a job anymore. It was a test of my skills.
I wouldn't let them get close. That much was certain. A Jedi with a lightsaber in melee range was a death sentence. But maintaining this strategy was getting me nowhere—their reflexes and evasive maneuvers made sure of that.
Time to switch tactics.
I quickly swapped out my blaster for something far more volatile: a thermal detonator launcher. Subtlety was out the window, but I didn't care. The priority was forcing the Jedi out of cover and into the open.
Aiming carefully, I fired. The detonator arced gracefully through the air before slamming into the rooftop near their hiding spot. The explosion was instantaneous, sending debris and shrapnel flying in every direction.
The target was forced to react, stumbling from the shockwave. Perfect.
I didn't waste a second. Leveling my blaster, I unleashed a barrage of precise shots, each one aimed to exploit their disorientation. They managed to deflect my attacks—just barely. The crackling hum of their lightsaber filled the air as they twisted and parried, their defense desperate but effective.
A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. They were on the defensive now.
Finally, I had gained the upper hand.
Or so I thought.
A sharp hum filled the air behind me, unmistakable and far too close for comfort. My instincts screamed at me, and I turned just in time to intercept an incoming strike. My weapon clashed against the brilliant green glow of a lightsaber, sparks flying as metal met energy.
How had they closed the distance so fast?
Damn it. I thought I'd end this skirmish with a simple illusion, but this assassin was sharper than I anticipated. Their resistance suggested a level of mental fortitude that was rare, even among skilled combatants. And then their melee weapon—capable of deflecting a lightsaber. That alone made them a significant threat; such technology wasn't commonplace.
None of this mattered, though. I had the upper hand now.
Switching to Form II, I pressed the attack with calculated precision. Each strike was deliberate, designed to probe their defenses and force them to respond. They were barely holding on, their movements growing increasingly desperate as I closed the gap.
We leaped to another rooftop, the clash of blades echoing in the night. My opponent's footing faltered, their guard slipping—it was only a matter of time before they broke entirely.
And then, as if summoned by my irritation, two MagnaGuard droids vaulted onto the rooftop, their staffs trained on me.
The interruption was unexpected, forcing me to redirect my focus. My opponent, the opportunist they were, capitalized on the distraction. I barely recovered in time to deflect a thrust from their staffs, each sizzling against my lightsaber's blade.
The assassin's voice cut through the chaos, laced with mockery. "Silly Jedi. You're quite resilient for a child, I'll give you that—but your time is up."
I clenched my jaw, the situation grating on my nerves. This was deeply unsatisfying. The prospect of using the Kyber crystal's so-called "blessing" filled me with loathing, but there was no denying the necessity. The longer this battle dragged on, the worse my position would become.
That bastard Being X put me here knowing I would have to use his "blessing". Why did this always happen to me?
I exhaled slowly, letting a cynical smile tug at the corners of my lips. "Dear Lord, hear my prayer. Show them your grace."
Reaching out to the Force, I felt renewed power flow through me, sharp and unyielding. With a crushing gesture, I obliterated the droids, their mechanical forms crumpling under the weight of invisible pressure. The fragments clattered against the rooftop, lifeless.
Before the assassin could react, I extended my hand, reaching for them with the Force. They froze mid-step, caught in my grasp, their weapon dropping to their side.
The cynicism in my smile deepened. They thought they had the upper hand. How amusing.
Time to get information.
Lowering my voice to a cold, commanding tone, amplified by the distortion of my mask, I spoke. "Submit. Tell me who sent you."
The assassin, still pinned by the Force and visibly struggling, managed to rasp out a few broken words. "I'll… never… tell—"
Their body suddenly convulsed, violent spasms wracking their frame. A sharp crackling sound filled the air as their movements became erratic, and within seconds, they went limp.
I released my hold, allowing their lifeless body to slump to the rooftop. The acrid smell of burned flesh and circuits lingered in the air. Whoever had hired this assassin had ensured their silence. A failsafe, no doubt. Electrocution through some hidden implant, activated the moment they were compromised.
I frowned behind my mask, the weight of this development settling heavily in my mind.
This was no simple hired gun. Whoever orchestrated this had resources—wealth, power, and a network capable of enlisting skilled operatives. And their target? Me.
My hand clenched reflexively around the hilt of my lightsaber as my thoughts turned toward Being X. This situation reeked of their meddling, their penchant for complicating my existence evident in every thread of this scheme. Of course, they'd delight in placing me in the crosshairs of such dangerous adversaries, forcing me to use his curse to corrupt my mind.
I straightened, my resolve hardening. This revelation was concerning, yes, but not insurmountable. Whoever was behind this had underestimated me. They wouldn't make that mistake twice—but then again, neither would I.
Moving forward, I'd have to remain more vigilant than ever. No more assumptions, no more underestimating the opposition. If Being X thought they could wear me down with these games, he was sorely mistaken.
I entered the building cautiously, hoping for a peaceful negotiation despite the growing sense of unease. The silence inside was oppressive, the dim lighting casting long shadows across the abandoned interior. The air was heavy with a foreboding energy, and through the Force, I could feel multiple presences. I was not alone.
As I moved toward the center of the room, my fears were confirmed. Figures emerged from the shadows, surrounding me with weapons raised, their hostility palpable.
"Well, well, well," one of them sneered, stepping forward. "It seems the Republic has finally sent its puppets after us."
I held up my hands in a gesture of peace, my voice calm but firm. "I only wish to talk. Please, lower your weapons. I come in peace."
One rebel scoffed, his voice dripping with bitterness. "Talk? Tell that to your Senate while our people suffer."
I nodded, keeping my tone measured. "Your feelings are justified. But please—violence will not solve this problem."
"No," he shot back, his voice rising with anger. "While the King and the Senate dabble in their high places, playing their elitist games, things will never change!"
I took a step forward, my posture open, non-threatening. "Please, you must understand—the Jedi are here to help you. We can press your case in the Senate, but only if we work together."
The leader's expression hardened, his grip tightening on his weapon. "The time for talk has passed. The Republic's actions have spoken louder than their words."
The first shot rang out before I could respond. In an instant, my lightsaber ignited, its blue blade casting a stark glow in the dim room. Moving into Form Three, I deflected the incoming blaster fire, my movements smooth and precise. Shots came from all sides, the room erupting into chaos.
I spun, using the Force to push the rebels behind me, their weapons flying from their hands as they hit the walls. But it wasn't enough. I was outnumbered, and they had the advantage. I backed toward the door, deflecting their relentless assault as I made my escape into the street.
Once outside, I froze. More rebels awaited me, their weapons raised. They had planned for this. Worse yet, Tanya was nowhere to be seen. My chest tightened. Had they already found her? Was she in trouble?
One of the rebels stepped forward, his weapon trained on me. "You're surrounded, Jedi, and your friend is nowhere to be found. Surrender, and we'll show mercy."
I tightened my grip on my lightsaber, standing tall despite the odds. "You know Jedi don't bow down to shameless aggression."
"So be it," the rebel sneered, gesturing to his men.
The air exploded with blaster fire, bolts streaking toward me. I deflected the shots with practiced precision, my blade moving in arcs of light as I focused on staying alive. But the situation was dire. I couldn't hold them off forever.
Then, abruptly, the blaster fire stopped. Confusion rippled through the group, and I risked a glance upward.
There she was. Tanya.
Standing atop a nearby rooftop, her frost-green lightsaber ignited, its glow reflecting off her mask. Her silhouette was sharp and unyielding, a figure of calculated intent. With the Force, she dropped a lifeless body—likely one she had just dealt with.
The rebels' attention wavered, their focus split. I seized the moment.
With a burst of speed, I rushed at the two rebels to my right, cutting them down with swift, efficient strikes and taking their position. The tide was turning.
It seems Jorik was right about this place being dangerous. As the rebels turned their attention toward me, Jorik seized the opportunity to strike. His blade flashed as he cut through their disoriented ranks.
I followed suit, engaging with Form IV. My movements were swift and precise, leveraging my agility to close the distance between myself and the scattered rebels. Their shock and confusion worked in our favor; they faltered as I pressed the attack.
Their resistance was futile. My blade moved with calculated efficiency, cutting each of them down. Within moments, the battle was over as quickly as it had begun, leaving the remaining rebels running in retreat.
"Master, we can't let them get away!"
"Tanya, no, let them run; we have killed enough," Jorik replied solemnly.
Letting your enemy retreat to fight another day was a tactic I couldn't abide by. The worlds of both my lives suffered that same mistake. One that I wouldn't make again.
But they will come back to haunt us!" I said, trying to keep my composure.
Our mission is complete, Tanya. I will not permit needless slaughter," Jorik said firmly.
I couldn't believe it. How could he not see this? Surely this galaxy has learned a lesson at least similar. I wanted to pull my hair out, but I couldn't resist the orders any longer. As much as it torments me, I don't want to get in trouble needlessly. At least this time it isn't an entire army getting away. I regained my composure, now the other problem looms: how to clean up this mess.
Jorik approached me, his expression weary but contrite. "I'm sorry, Tanya. I underestimated the extent of this ambush. In doing so, I put you in unnecessary danger."
I straightened. "There's no need to fret, Master Jorik. I can handle myself. Though I must agree, this attack was unprecedented. They sent an assassin to capture me." I gestured to the lifeless body I'd dropped on the rooftop. "That is the body of my assailant."
Jorik's eyes darkened as he studied the figure, his concern evident. "This scheme is deeper than I imagined. It seems powerful people are targeting you, Tanya. This changes everything."
He paused, his tone softening. "Your handling of this situation was nothing short of remarkable. Your combat aptitude was thoroughly tested, and you passed with flying colors. I am relieved—and now fully confident in your abilities. Forgive me for doubting you earlier and leaving you outside."
I inclined my head slightly at Jorik's words. His apology was sincere, but apologies were little more than window dressing. Words didn't change the fact that he'd miscalculated and put us both at risk. Still, his acknowledgment of my abilities was a small consolation. At the very least, he wasn't so blinded by his ideals that he couldn't recognize reality.
Internally, though, my thoughts churned.
The ambush had been calculated, coordinated. The rebels weren't some ragtag militia improvising with scraps; this was a well-organized operation. The assassin alone was evidence of that. Whoever was pulling the strings had the resources and cunning to mask their true intent. And, judging by their fixation on me, they had done their homework.
Why me? The question loomed larger with every passing moment. A Jedi Knight barely out of training wasn't exactly a prime target—unless, of course, this went deeper than the Republic's conflicts.
Being X?
That bastard no doubt has a role, but he isn't this direct. I have a feeling something else is behind this. This galaxy was a powder keg, and I could feel meddling turning the fuse into a slow, mocking burn. The rebels, the assassin, the turmoil; this must only be the beginning. But brooding on Being X's schemes wouldn't solve the problem at hand.
I turned my gaze to Jorik, my voice carefully controlled. "Master, as much as I appreciate your apology, this isn't the time to dwell on our successes or failures. We need to report this incident to King Ramsis immediately. He must understand the gravity of what has happened."
Jorik nodded, his expression serious. "You're right, Tanya. The king needs to know what events have emerged. Let's not delay."