Fiach’s Jedi Trials

[Fiach Dubh]

Fiach wanted to make a break for it but knew she would have to wait for the effect of the electro-jabber to wear off.

Her thoughts stopped abruptly as Zane pushed her against a wall. Rough hands reached under Fiach’s travel cloak and Zane brought out Fiach’s lightsaber and examined it.

“What is this?”

Fiach tensed. “It’s just a hand-warming device,” she said

Zane shoved it back in Fiach’s belt. “Then I don’t need it. What’s this…?”

He’d found Fiach’s comlink. He pulled it out of its pouch, clearly recognising it for what it was.

“You won’t be needing this,” Zane said, holding it up.

Fiach knew she had to act fast.

A carved bust of a serene-looking woman sat on a high shelf over them. Fiach called on the Force. The bust rocketed to the edge of the shelf and flew off. It missed Zane by millimetres and crashed to the floor, sending chips of marble everywhere. Zane stared down at it in disbelief.

A door near them opened. A woman’s head appeared.

“Zane What’s going on? I’m trying to conduct a class.” Her gaze travelled over the broken bust.

“It fell,” Zane said. “An unfortunate accident. But here is a student for you. Keep your excellent eye on her – she’s a troublemaker.”

The woman cast a cool gaze over Fiach. Then she smiled. Fiach felt a chill move through her. The smile was eerily similar to Rita and Ken’s.

“There are no troublemakers here,” the woman said. “Come.”

 

[Fiach Dubh]

Glad to get away from Zane, Fiach followed the teacher through the durasteel door into the classroom. The door clanged shut behind them and an automatic lock snapped shut.

Students dressed in grey tunics sat on long benches that ran the width of the room, row after row. Small data screens rose from the floor in front of each of them at eye-level. The students sat erect, hands at their sides. Only their eyes moved as they examined Fiach.

“I’m afraid there’s been a mistake,” Fiach said. “I’m not from this planet. I’m…”

The room went still.

“Sit,” the woman told Fiach.

“But I am not–” Fiach began.

“Sit.” The smile didn’t waver. “Put on the robes for learning.” She handed Fiach a grey tunic.

Mindful of the Council’s orders, Fiach slipped into the tunic and sat and immediately a data screen rose in front of her.

The teacher looked at her, her finger poised over her datapad. “Name, please.”

“Fiach Dubh,” Fiach said. “Of Klatooine.”

“Three marks for lying,” the teacher said, smiling. “One mark for not giving your correct name.”

“That is my correct name,” Fiach said, controlling her frustration.

“Three more marks for lying,” the teacher said. “I see you already have three. That makes ...ten marks.”

Fiach’s data screen flashed blue. Letters began to crawl across the screen:

TRAVEL TO THE INNER CORE IS DANGEROUS

Fiach frowned. She knew this was untrue.

“Who can tell me why the Inner Core is dangerous?” the teacher asked.

“The Inner Core is dangerous because it is controlled by pirates,” a small, brown-haired girl said in an almost-whisper. “Its third sun is in perpetual nova, so it can melt the engines of passing craft. The pirates divert passing traffic into the outer edges of the exploding sun to force a landing.”

Fiach stared at the small girl in amazement. Everything she’d said was untrue. “But that’s not true!” she protested.

“I did not call on you,” the woman said severely. “If you wish to ask a question, touch your data screen.”

Fiach touched her data screen.

The teacher’s lips were tight as she smiled and turned back to her. “Yes?”

“The Inner Core is not overrun by pirates,” Fiach said.

“That is not a question,” the teacher said. Her cheeks flushed red. “Two more marks.”

Before Fiach could touch her datapad, the teacher spoke again. “I’m afraid punishment is called for. You will clean up the food service area for the entire school after the evening meal.” Shooting a glance at Fiach, she added, “If you choose to refuse your punishment, not one student will eat today.”

Fifty pairs of angry eyes turned and stared at Fiach.

 

[Fiach Dubh]

Fiach heaved another tub of dirty dishes into the sink. Sudsy water slopped on the floor.

She gazed out at the narrow band of windows that ran along the top of the wall. All the windows at the school were set high in the walls. They allowed light in but restricted a view of outside.

She could use the Force and escape now, but decided it was a risky escape and decided to sleep on the best solution. A Jedi always sought to avoid a conflict. Infinitely more ways there are to reach a goal, was the mantra they’d been taught. Try them all you should.

She considered simply saying, or demonstrating she was a Jedi, but she was not sure that would be enough to be released. It was always tempting to act. It was often wiser to wait.

 

[Fiach Dubh]

One of the children had happened into the kitchen area and Fiach had engaged with them – enough to learn some useful information. She knew she had been right to wait and wondered of this was the Force in action.

Soon would be lockdown and the guard, Zane, will take the watch. But five minutes after lockdown, he turns off security in one sector and raids the kitchen.

She also found an exit. There was a cleansing room nearby that was part of the same security grid as the kitchen.

The lights turned on and off three times. A soft signal sounded. Fiach knew she had five minutes to hide before the alarm was set, then another five before she could act.

Having waited, she hurried down a long hallway. The cleansing room was at the very end of the long, circular building. She had almost reached it when they heard the scrape of a door opening slightly.

Without hesitating a fraction, Fiach leaped toward the curve of the hallway, where she would be out of sight.

An alarm pierced the silence. The door to the cleansing room was in sight. She raced toward it. But before she could reach it, security guards spilled out into the hallway and surrounded her.

She could have fought them. But that meant she would have to draw her lightsaber. Fiach was still reluctant to do that. These people were not evil, but misinformed.

“What are you doing out in the hallways after curfew?”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Back to your dorm. You will be dealt with in the morning.”

Fiach suppressed a sigh and slowly trudged back. Aware the alarms had now been turned off, she continued to walk, to the main entrance. There was one guard present.

“Good evening,” Fiach said. “I have been asked to leave this place. You will be happy to let me pass through.”

“I am happy to let you pass through,” the guard said, succumbing to the mind trick and waving her through the doorway.

 

[Fiach Dubh]

She had barely covered fifty metres when something made her stop short. Grain was clearly in plentiful supply on this planet. So why were ten guards assigned to the silo that housed it?

Under cover of darkness, Fiach closed in on the building and drew out her electrobinoculars. Something glinted in the moonlight and she noticed that at the guards’ feet, something had been disturbed. Something had to be buried there, for she could see metal.

As she watched, the ground moved and the nearest guard stepped quickly away as a panel slid open and a ramp leading downward was revealed.

A woman emerged, wearing the white tunic of a medic. The door closed behind her and she hurried towards the main complex. As she contemplated her next move, she felt the now familiar sting of the electro-jabber.

 

[Fiach Dubh]

At first, she had struggled to block out the voice. She was in some kind of isolation suit, and she presumed it was somewhere down the ramp she’d spotted earlier.

In her head she heard nothing but the propaganda she’d been listening to since she came here. Initially, she had struggled. But that made the voice louder. So she relaxed. She allowed the voice to wash over her like water. She did not have to drink it in.

How long would this go on? It seemed to be lasting for hours. She would find her calm centre; then the voice could not penetrate.

At last she was released from the sensory-deprivation suit. At first she could only blink. The soft noises of people and movement outside her door, the breathing of the guard seemed loud and intrusive.

“How long have I been here?” Fiach asked.

“That I cannot say,” the guard said pleasantly.

She was on her own and could trust no-one.

Only the wise ones could be trusted for truth.

Fiach stopped in the middle of buckling her utility belt as she dressed. She had not heard those words as spoken by the voice in her ear. She had heard the words in her own voice.

Fear snaked through her. Had they gotten to her in only one session?

Fiach took a breath. She focused on the calmness within. It drove out the fear.

 

[Fiach Dubh]

Food service took place in a large hall filled with students. Fiach could not see their faces. Like her, they wore concealing hoods. Strict silence was maintained. Guards patrolled the aisles between the long tables, making sure no one started a conversation.

Here, everything was designed to break a student down.

Isolation was the tool.

 

[Fiach Dubh]

That night, she timed the regular stroll of the guards. She calculated the distance down the hall. She would have just enough time to get out before the guard returned. It would be risky. She would have to count on the Guide to not notice the damaged cell door. The lighting was low enough that she just might get away with it.

A buzzer announced lights out, and three seconds later her light was extinguished. Fiach sat cross-legged on the floor of her cell. She would wait until she was sure that most students were asleep.

The glow of molten metal illuminated her room. She cut a hole in the door with her lightsaber.

She moved quietly down the hall. Suddenly, a faint, mewing cry split the silence.

She heard the cry again. It was muffled, and Fiach realized now that it came from one of the rooms off the hall. Then she felt it. It was the baby she’d come here to meet in the first place.

 

[Fiach Dubh]

Alarms went off but Fiach knew she was passed being subtle. With the baby in her arms, she activated her lightsabre as the guards thundered toward them. They were armed with blasters.

The guards were clearly not used to skilled opponents. Fiach used her lightsabers to deflect fire only. Pushing the guards backwards with the Force, Fiach managed to make her way to the exit and activated the ramp.

Imagine her surprise when, instead of more guards, she saw…Jedi.

A female Jedi took the baby from Fiach’s arms.

The young Padawan shook her head in disbelief.

 

[Fiach Dubh]

“I suspect that when the citizens find out what was happening in the school, they will revolt,” the Jedi Master said as they travelled back to the Order’s headquarters. “Parents will be horrified that children were hidden away and put in solitary confinement for questioning authority or having a chronic ailment. It violates everything the wise ones said they valued.”

“I failed,” Fiach said. “I was supposed to be diplomatic.”

“By all accounts, you were. Others might have used force immediately and we would never have found out what was going on. You acted with patience and fortitude – and according to the records, you were the only person to have survived the brainwashing that you were subjected to. For this, and your deeds here, the Council have agreed that you’ve passed the Trial of Isolation.”

 

[Fiach Dubh]

JEDI TRIAL: FEAR

“Now I know there is something strong than fear — far stronger. The Force.”
– Kanan Jarrus

She was aboard an old barge, pocked and scarred from meteor hits. It was shaped like a crate and attached to the front of it were a dozen cargo boxes. It was the ugliest, dirtiest ship that Fiach could have imagined.

If the exterior was ugly, the interior was foul. Its battered corridors smelled of spice-miners’ dust and the sweaty bodies of many, many species. Repair ports were left open, so that wires and pressure hoses – the ship’s guts – spilled out as if from an open wound.

Everywhere on the ship, enormous Hutts slithered about like giant slugs. Whiphids stalked the corridors with their mouldy fur and tusks. Tall Arconans with triangular heads and glittering eyes moved in small groups.

Fiach wandered in a daze, her bags in hand. No one had been at the entry port guide her. No-one even seemed to notice her. She realised gloomily that someone had taken her datapad. On it was her room number.

She looked for a crew member, but she could only find miners being transported. Fiach trudged on. The ship was strange and so different from her usual transportation.

Suddenly, a huge Hutt blocked her path. Before Fiach could say a word, the Hutt grabbed her by the throat and threw her against a wall.

“What do you think you’re doing, slug?”

“Uh, sorry?” Fiach asked in surprise. What had she done wrong? She was just trudging down the hall. With a sense of unease, she noticed that two particularly evil-looking Whiphids stood behind the Hutt.

The Hutt studied Fiach as if here were a morsel of food. The creature’s huge tongue rolled from its mouth and slid over its grey lips, leaving a trail of slime.

“That’s not a ship’s uniform you’re wearing.”

Fiach looked down at her clothes. She wore a loose grey tunic.

The Hutt’s fingers were like slabs of meat. They tightened around Fiach’s neck, strangling her. Choking, Fiach dropped her bags and grasped the Hutt’s fingers. Her lungs burned and the room spun.

Using all her strength, Fiach managed to pry the Hutt’s fingers from her throat long enough to gasp a breath. She stared into the cruel, blank eyes of the Hutt, trying to summon her Force powers. She sensed a cruelty without conscience.

The last thing she remembered was the Hutt’s fist coming straight at her.

 

[Fiach Dubh]

Fiach woke on a cot in a warm, well-lit room. Her vision was blurry, and her head swam. A medical droid leaned over her, applying flesh glue to her cuts, checking for broken bones.

A young woman with reddish-brown hair and green eyes stood across the room, watching her. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to tangle with a Hutt?” she asked.

Fiach tried to shake her head, but even a tiny movement rocked her with pain. She took a long breath. She called on her Jedi training to accept the pain as a signal her body was sending. She had to accept the pain, respect it, not fight it. Then she’d have to ask her body to begin to heal.

Once she’d centred her mind, the pain seemed to ease. She turned to the woman. “I didn’t seem to have a choice.”

“I know what you mean.” The woman flashed her a brief grin. “Well, you survived. That’s something.” She walked closer to her bedside. “You’re lucky I found you when I did. You’re not one of ours.”

“Ours?” Fiach asked. She squinted at the woman. She wore an orange work-suit.

“This ship is carrying miners – but from two rival companies. If you weren’t one of theirs, they must have assumed you were one of ours.”

Fiach tried to shrug, but pain shot through her shoulder. Sometimes it was hard to respect her body’s signal. “I was only looking for my cabin.”

“You’re a tough one,” the woman said cheerfully. “Not everybody could withstand a pounding by a Hutt. Did you come on board looking for a job? We could use more hands.”

“I have a job,” Fiach said, trying to feel her mouth with her tongue. She was relieved that all her teeth were still in. “I’m Fiach. I’m…on an assignment.”

The woman’s mouth fell open. “You’re the young Jedi? The ship’s crew has been looking everywhere for you.”

Fiach’s eyes rolled. So much for travelling incognito.

 

[Fiach Dubh]

She woke in sickbay, with tubes in her arms and an oxygen mask over her nose and mouth. For a moment she thought he was still dreaming – a Jedi was standing over her. Then the Jedi’s large, cool hand rested on Fiach’s forehead, and Fiach realised she was awake.

“H-how?” Fiach whispered.

The Jedi Master’s hand dropped, and he took a step back. “Don’t try to speak,” he said gently. “You’ve had a bad fever, but I’ve taken care of it. Your wounds turned out to be worse than what the medics could handle.”

“Did you come to look for me?”

The Jedi shook his head. “I’m on my way to the same planet. I’m on a mission. Interestingly, our missions have nothing to do with each other.”

 

[Fiach Dubh]

The door to sickbay slid open. The woman from before strode in with an impatient expression.

“We have a problem,” she said crisply. “Someone has been tampering with our equipment. We have three tunnelling machines in stock, and all three have been sabotaged.”

“How so?” the Jedi Master asked.

“The part that monitors the tunnellers’ temperature have been removed.”

“Yet the quarters are clearly separated. There is no way the machines were sabotaged by the other mining corporation.”

The woman left and Fiach immediately spoke to the Jedi. “It shouldn’t be to hard to find out who really sabotaged the tunnellers,” Fiach pointed out.

“This is not your affair. You must stay out of it. You’re not fully recovered yet, Fiach.”

With that, the Jedi turned and strode from the room. Fiach waited for a few seconds. Then she carefully got up from her bed.

Justice must be sought out.

 

[Fiach Dubh]

Fiach’s sense of purpose made her feel strong again, despite her injuries. She decided search the ‘safe’ half of the ship. It made sense to eliminate the easiest task first.

She was able to search the kitchens, storage rooms, exercise rooms, and lounges without looking suspicious. She even checked the garbage chutes but found no sign of the missing components.

It was exhausting work for someone who was still recovering, but Fiach ignored her pain and weariness. A Jedi did not give into such feelings.

 

[Fiach Dubh]

The following day, Fiach crawled forward through an airshaft and gazed through a grate down into a dark cabin. The odour of cheap liquor filled the room.

The cabin looked like a monument to filth, just like all the others Fiach had seen today. Fiach tried to peer farther into the room. It looked empty but she couldn’t see the corners of the room, however.

She felt a sense of unease. She could feel dark ripples in the Force, but what did it mean? Evil streamed through this side of the ship like poisonous air. She’d searched several rooms already. She’d found illegal weapons, a small casket filled with credit chips that might have been stolen loot. But she hadn’t found any thermocoms.

She decided to trust her instincts and come back to this room later.

The next cabin was full of Hutts and Whiphids, all crouched around the floor, playing dice.

Suddenly a blinding flash of light erupted through the shaft, and a deafening boom roared. Someone had shot a blaster through the vent and smoke began to fill the air.

Fiach’s heart pounded. In seconds she knew that someone would stick his head up through the grill, blaster in hand.

Moving quickly as she dared, she scooted silently toward a corner twenty metres ahead. She pulled herself around it, sweat streaming down her face.

Through the air shaft, she heard someone growl, “I don’t see anyone up there.”

Fiach wiped the sweat from her eyes with the hem of her tunic and made sure her lightsaber was holstered securely.

 

[Fiach Dubh]

The search was taking too long. Fiach decided that she would speed up and trust in the Force to tell her when she was close to the truth. Yet time seemed to crawl as Fiach desperately searched for the missing components. She had to drag herself through the air shaft, sneaking past miner cabins and peering through grates, holding her breath. Grime covered her hands and grit flew into her eyes as she stirred up years of dust.

 

[Fiach Dubh]

Feeling forlorn, Fiach finally returned to her cabin. She’d come up empty-handed and on top of it all found out the parts had been found by chance. She had risked the fragile peace on the ship for nothing.

The room suddenly shook, and there was a rumbling boom. Warning sirens began to wail. Fiach knew that if they’d collided with another ship, or an asteroids in hyperspace, it would have torn the ship apart.

Distantly, Fiach heard the whunk whunk whunk of the ship’s guns firing.

“Pirates,” she said, under her breath.

 

[Fiach Dubh]

Fiach raced for the bridge, down the main corridors. Through the grates under the floor she could hear the grind of the generators charging the ships shields. Meanwhile, the steady whunk whunk sound continued as blasters fired.

Pirates sometimes mined the shipping lanes. When the ship hit a mine, the hyperdrive blew, and the ship would drop back out of hyperspace. As it did, the pirates would open fire, destroying the ship’s weapons and engines so swiftly that unwary travellers seldom had time to react.

Then the pirates would send boarding parties out to strip anything they could from their victims.

This ship didn’t have much worth stealing, but the pirates wouldn’t know that – not until they’d blown it to pieces and searched through the rubble.

The floor shuddered under the impact of another explosion. As the ship twisted to its side, Fiach rounded a corner. Ahead was a transparisteel view port. Through it, she could see five warships. Blaster fire erupted from them. Metal shrieked in protest and the corridors filled with greasy smoke.

The ship’s guns had gone silent and Fiach sensed they now floated dead in space. Though fire alarms sounded, no one on the bridge was shouting orders.

She could go and repel the boarders, but even if she did, the ship was a sitting duck for the pirates. Their only hope of escape was if she could pilot the ship out of here.

 

[Fiach Dubh]

The door to the bridge was sealed shut and burning hot. Fiach could feel heat radiating from it as she tried to open it. A fire raged on the other side. Ignoring the pain, she tried to wedge her fingers in the crack and pull it open.

Fiach backed from the door. The bridge must have taken a direct hit from one of the ships. But a hit from a heavy blaster or a proton torpedo would have done more than just start a fire. Most likely it had punched a hole in the hull.

It would be dangerous to try to open the door. There might only be a fire, but it could be worse. All the air could have escaped from the room.

Carefully, Fiach struggled to calm herself, to use the Force. She could sense the latching mechanism, and it would take only a little effort to move it.

But then what? If she opened it, she could get pulled into space. Or toxic smoke could roil into the corridor and suffocate her, or the fire might spread into the halls.

But what choice did she have? She focused her attention and the door slid open.

Immediately, a stiff wind knocked her on ther back. The breath left Fiach’s lungs, and the air whisked past her, sucked into the vacuum of space. Fiach grabbed the door frame to keep from getting sucked out. It was all she could do to hold on.

The bridge had indeed been hit. Air screamed out through a small round hole up above the view port.

She crawled across the bridge, reaching for handhold after handhold. She reached for a spherical compass – the round metal object that served as a backup in case the main nav computer was hit or disabled. Fighting the screaming wind, she stumbled to the hull and released the compass near the hole. The vacuum sucked it in, and immediately the rushing air quieted.