When Man Faces Destiny

[Brandon Rhea]

"And when man faces destiny, destiny
ends and man comes into his own."
—Andre Malraux​

The engines of Andraste’s shuttle came to a grinding halt, flinging the craft out of hyperspace and into the vast blackness of the cosmos. Power in the ship was fading, and emergency power would only be able to sustain him and the baby girl for a few days. Were it not for the need to disappear from the Emperor and make him believe they were dead, he never would’ve ejected the ion reactor from the ship, as he knew it would leave them stranded.

Were it necessary, he would lock himself in one of the rear chambers and vent the atmosphere from within it, saving the rest of the oxygen in the shuttle for the girl. It was a sacrifice he was willing to make for her survival. Her destiny was too important for her to die in a dark galactic wasteland.

Jhon wondered if she'd felt what he felt. It was only minutes after jumping into hyperspace that he felt a great cry, a piercing voice that, for a moment, shattered the Force and killed his very soul. His hands still shook, his heart still wept, as he knew what it was. His ruse had worked, and Andraste believed he and the girl were dead. He had to lie, he had to deceive, and he had to cheat.

He had become Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Yet that wasn't the worst of it. The wailing not only had grown louder before it disappeared, it grew darker. The Force itself, for however brief a moment, became darker than he'd ever felt it. Something had gone terribly wrong, something about Andraste herself, and he feared the monster she thought lived inside her might have finally won. And it would be entirely his fault.

He looked behind him, behind the pilot’s chair, to make sure the girl was still laying in the rear chair, snug in the blanket he had found for her shortly after leaving Lehon. He kept looking back, even though he didn’t know why. She couldn’t get up and walk away, and if she fell he would all but certainly hear her, but for some reason he kept checking to make sure he was there. It was an oddly paternal instinct that he’d never prepared himself to feel. It didn’t seem right, and yet, at the same time, it did.

The Grand Master turned back, smiling at this emotional reaction in spite of everything else he was feeling, and scanned the area, hoping to get an idea as to where he was before the onboard computer started to die. He was, surprisingly, in the Expansion Region, at least in its southern corners, farther away from the Deep Core than he had intended. He was just shy of the jungle planet Noe'ha'on and the hyperspace route it sat on, so close to being more easily detectable by a passing starship. He would have to rely on the will of the Force...and just a little bit of luck.

Punching a few codes into the computer, he reached the firewall of a nearby Jedi communication relay, one that would direct a distress signal directly where needed it.

“State your purpose and authorization,” the monotonous voice of the beacon’s computer stated.

“Scramble code five to the gravy train,” Jhon said, shaking his head at the ridiculous codename, “care of the flightless bird.”

The beacon made no further comment, nor did it need to. It was waiting for a message, whether it be text or audio, and Jhon had a coded one ready to send to whoever was commanding the Light of the Force, and it read:

THIS IS THE GRAND MASTER. STRANDED WITH PRECIOUS CARGO ONE LIGHT YEAR FROM NOE’HA’ON. REQUEST ASSISTANCE. PREPARE FOR MY ARRIVAL DISCREETLY. CLEAR ALL PERSONNEL IN THE SHUTTLE BAY AND BETWEEN THE BAY AND A PRIVATE AREA. ARRIVAL MUST BE NEED TO KNOW ONLY. FURTHER INFORMATION WILL BE GIVEN UPON MY ARRIVAL. MAY THE FORCE BE WITH YOU.​

Now, all he could do was wait and hope that the vessel was in range.

 

[Green Ranger]

The Light of the Force, the brand new flagship of the New Jedi Order, was en route back to the Core Worlds after undergoing combat trials in the mysterious Anoth system, far from the prying eyes of Imperial agents. Though not the largest ship in the Galactic Alliance fleet, the unique, refitted Heroic-class Star Destroyer had undergone extensive refits and renovations to transform it into a mobile academy of the Jedi - much like its predecessor, the ill-fated Will of the Force.

The council had spent days deliberating on the decision of who to place in charge of such a vessel - it was not an easy decision, especially given the fate of the Will of the Force. Eventually, command was granted to the Jedi Master, Kara Vaalki. Though the decision was rather controversial, especially given the Chandrilan's stern and critical nature, the Council had decided that her extensive knowledge of the galaxy, and her growing experience in combat scenarios made her an excellent choice, at least temporarily. The Council was sorely missing their Grandmaster's input in these discussions...

The Light of the Force hung in low orbit around Kriselist, a relatively well-travelled Alliance world along the Corellian Trade Spine to stop for supplies and munitions - before these combat trials, the Light of the Force barely had enough to survive the journey, lest it be discovered and captured. Thankfully, by all accounts noone had caught wind of the mission. It had been a long and stressful journey for Kara. She was just glad it was almost over. And yet...

There was a soft bleep from the bridge's communications console - a private message, on one of the Jedi's most secure emergency frequencies. Few were even aware of its existance beyond the Council...Kara felt herself tensing up, though she caught herself, taking a moment to breathe and control herself. If the Alliance was under attack again... She pressed the comm button, a scrawl of text playing out across the console, hastily written...if it was in fact Grandmaster Cordatus, he was desperate.

"Captain Vorkuul?" she said softly, though pointedly. An Alliance officer, previously reading over a datapad, raised his head and walked over. Though it was hard to tell, faint lines around the Selkath's eyes indicated some seniority, though she had known him long enough to realize he was far older then he let on.

"Master Jedi? Is there something you require?" Kara gave a soft smile to the man. He spoke simply, in rather flat tones, and for very good reason. They both knew how bad the Jedi Master was at the alien language.

"We've got to make a minor detour, I'm afraid. Prepare the ship for hyperspace and prepare the shuttle hangar for a secure delivery. Secret Jedi business, you understand?"

The captain bowed his head and stepped away silently to give the orders. Thankfully, he hadn't noticed Kara's hands, the knuckles white with tension as she clasped the console. If this was a trap, she would be sending thousands of good men to their death...

***

A few short hours later, the fully resupplied and re-armed battleship dropped out of hyperspace at full battle readiness, an squadron escort of R-25 starfighters dropping out only moments after, to the eerie quiet of a remote and rarely travelled system. All of the hangar bay doors had been closed for security, save the starboard shuttle bay, which remained clear of all save the Jedi Master herself. On the bridge, Captain Vorkuul began scanner sweeping the system. Whatever Kara was looking for, he would find it.

 

[Brandon Rhea]

After only a few hours, the hulking mass of the Light of the Force dropped out of hyperspace and into his view. What were the odds? The vessel that he, as acting Chief of State of the Galactic Alliance, authorized via executive order was now the one to rescue him and the girl. It was poetic, really.

The massive Heroic-class Destroyer sailed towards him, as he opened a secured frequency to the commander of the vessel, or whoever was on its command deck to receive the calls. He hesitated, but just for a moment. He was, for all intents and purposes, dead. The more people who knew about him being alive, the greater the chances of the Emperor discovering as such. He wanted to trust everyone, particularly the Jedi, but he was not so naive as to believe that he could. Even Jedi could fall.

“Security clearance 1138, code clearance Walter Tango Foxtrot, come in gravy train,” Jhon said into the comm.

The holographic image of the Selkath commander came to life, saying, “Grand Master Cordatus. This is Captain Vorkuul of the Light of the Force. Master Vaalki has informed me that there is, quote, secret Jedi business that needs attending to?”

“Yes, Captain, immediately,” Jhon said. “I require permission to come aboard and dock, and I’ll need a secure room for myself and...special cargo. Please clear the area completely between the docking bay and whatever facility I’ll be placed in. Send no escort, I will find my own way.”

“But of course, Master Jedi,” the Selkath said, clearly annoyed by the request, but nodding in formality nonetheless as the hologram disappeared and Jhon piloted towards the docking bay.

--------------------​

A half hour later, Jhon was inside the ship, waiting in a secured briefing room where he would be able to remain and have a private space for himself, away from the chambers and quarters of the other Jedi. The briefing room would remain sealed, and he would have no need to leave it as the ship returned to the Deep Core, given that the room had enough to sustain him and the girl for the rest of the voyage back.

For now, he waited. At first he wasn’t quite sure what he was waiting for. Maybe it was the trip back to Tython or the forever-long wait of this girl growing up and fulfilling her destiny, but he didn’t know. She slept in his arms, and maybe he was waiting for her to wake up again. Nothing made much sense him to right now.

Soon, though, he waited for Master Vaalki. She knew he was on the ship, so it was only a matter of time before she arrived. He did not know her well, though he knew enough to agree that she should be placed in command of the the Light of the Force. One particular aspect of her resume stood out to him now: expertise in the field of lore, a trait he found necessary in Jedi commanders. Given what he found in the Rakatan computers, that was going to be an important topic of discussion.

 

[Green Ranger]

As Jhon and his mysterious cargo navigated the halls to the assigned briefing chamber, Kara returned to her private chambers, taking a moment to prepare herself to meet the Grandmaster of the Jedi Order. Usually calm and collected, the Chandrilan Jedi Master found herself oddly ill at ease with the situation. Cordatus had been MIA for some time, and his sudden re-appearance filled Kara's head with questions. More than any other, however, her mind kept returning to the same one: Where had he been when the Order needed him?

The Jedi Master forwent her usual military attire, forsaking her dark, almost Imperial uniform for a more traditional set of Jedi robes, a brown overcoat over a tan tunic, like the Jedi Knights of old would wear. The roughspun fabric scratched at her skin incessantly, and she cringed at the sensation. Her sensitive skin would be covered in rashes tomorrow, but this was the Grandmaster, and though she was not usually one for protocol, this was a rather special exception to the rule.

First and foremost, Cordatus remained one of the wisest and most respected Jedi in recent history. For another, he was one of the few Jedi remaining that was mindful of the old ways, but pursued the traditions of the New Jedi Order, the Order that Luke Skywalker had built from ruin centuries ago...a mentality that was almost extinct in the increasingly conservative Order. As she combed her hair, the Jedi Master thought back to the few times she had had the pleasure of the Grandmaster's company, pleasant memories all. He deserved respect, and so traditional protocols were required.

As she walked the refitted halls and chambers of the Light of the Force, as of yet still bare of the tapestries and artefacts of the Jedi Order, Kara wondered to herself if there was some greater symbolism behind the state of the vessel at the moment - bare and empty, a blank slate, a new fate to be forged by what would transpire over the next few months. Silently, she berated herself for such musings - such thoughts were best left to the historians of the next generation. She then began to note that the chambers and halls between her and the assigned conference chamber were a little too empty - though she assumed that Vorkuul had relocated all personnel and patrols between the hangar and the conference chamber for Cordatus, he wasn't meant to do the same for between Kara's own chambers and the conference room.

Silently, she noted that perhaps the Selkath knew her too well, and knew that she wouldn't want to be seen adhering to traditional Jedi stereotypes. She made a mental note of thanking the Captain later.

***

Before long, the Chandrilan Jedi Master found herself at the conference chamber. She brushed her fingertips through her hair one last time and straightened her tunic before opening the room. As she stepped inside, the door locking behind her, she started at the sight before her. Though battered and clearly worse for wear, the Jedi Grandmaster seemed oddly at peace, though he had not even raised his head to greet her. His attention seemed fixed on a tiny bundle in his hands.

Kara opened her mouth, but no words came. She wanted to berate and scold the Grandmaster, wanted to understand where he had been, and why he had not contacted the Order in his absence...but suddenly it all seemed so trivial, so inconsequential. The Force whirled around the man like a maelstrom...or was it the bundle in his arms? Despite her years of experience, even Kara could barely differentiate the two. Never before had she encountered any pairing where the Force was so intertwined.

And in that moment, she knew just how important this meeting was.

 

[Brandon Rhea]

The Jedi Master seem ill-prepared—or, perhaps, over-prepared—to meet Jhon, someone whom she had met before but did not know very well. Her emotions were written on her sleeves; a disdain for his absence came first, then confusion, then bewilderment, and then an awe-struck moment like she was staring destiny in the face. She felt what he felt; she knew things that only the most attuned to the Force could know. Not that she knew the details he knew, or even what anything she was feeling meant, but she knew something was different about this particular situation. Any Jedi would be able to feel it, at least on some level.

He almost wanted to grin. The reaction was amusing only so far as that he had the same one, one he still wasn’t over and wouldn’t be over anytime soon. Seeing the faces of others and knowing that’s what he must have looked like would take some getting used to, but he could at least help them understand at a certain level. Not that he could say everything, of course. That was far too dangerous a gamble.

“This is one of the first things you learn as a youngling,” the Grand Master reminded her, “that the Force works in mysterious ways.”

 

[Green Ranger]

After that brief moment, Kara quickly recomposed herself, taking on the steely disposition she was so well known for. Though her mind was racing, she reminded herself she was a Jedi Master, and was supposed to act as such. The Grandmaster's words bounced off her harmlessly as she gave a mysterious half smile.

"That would explain it then - I was brought into the Order at a late age," she said, half reminding him, half goading a more casual response. "I believe you've got some explaining to do, Grandmaster...for one, I didn't realize you still had that kind of marksmanship."

As she said that, the Light of the Force hummed into life, the hyperdrives kicking into action as the massive vessel lurched into hyperspace. Kara silently noted the high-pitched whine of the device within the bowels of the ship, noting the 'baby's cry,' as it were - the trademark sound of a brand new vessel. The sound would fade in only a few short months, but she thought it was rather poetic that the vessel, still in its infancy, was tasked with transporting a child as its first official mission.

 

[Brandon Rhea]

It was true, he was not as skilled in the art of combat as he had once been when he was younger. His master, Jayda Hal, had trained him on the path of a Jedi Guardian, a path he remained on until the tragedy on Ardos. That path was forsaken in favor of the life of a sage and a master of the Force.

“I may not be the most skilled swordsman anymore,” Jhon told her, “but I compensate with the Force and I—”

His voice stopped dead in its tracks. Kara’s question was asked a bit too casually to be a discussion on combat skills. Jhon’s eyes slammed shut and he let out a heavy sigh, realizing he had just made a fool out of himself.

“—oh.”

Adding insult to injury, the unintentional double meaning of his own reply played through his head. She mentioned being surprised at his ‘marksmanship’ at his age, and he talked about his lack of swordsmanship and compensating with the Force. Why did he have to say ‘Force?’ Of all the words...

“I just heard that the way you heard it,” he said, his now-opened eyes staring up at the ceiling, trying to avoid eye contact. “This is very awkward.”

With another sigh, he looked at Kara again, explaining, “She’s not my daughter. Her parents were...,” his voice trailed off for a brief moment, trying to find the right words—the right lie. “They were killed when their ship crashed on Lehon. I was surveying the Rakatan ruins there for a sensitive assignment and discovered the child alive. Her connection to the Force is strong, so I took her with me. For training, of course.”

 

[Green Ranger]

Kara chuckled softly to herself, shaking her head. "Priceless," she muttered to herself, as she walked over to the conference table, taking a seat at the far end. She clasped her hands together atop the table, her smile fading as talks inevitably turned towards business. She knew little of the Jedi Grandmaster, but the way he spoke of the child, and of the story behind it...he was hesitant, and a little too eager to divulge every bit of information.

"Tell me the truth, Jhon," she said sternly, her eyes taking on an almost icy quality as she stared the Grandmaster down. If it was such a simple assignment, it wouldn't have taken weeks, and Lehon was well off the beaten path - sentient life didn't even exist there anymore, the native species had died out centuries ago. Not to mention the state of the Grandmaster's clothing, and his somewhat...dishevelled appearance. It didn't add up, and they both knew it.

 

[Brandon Rhea]

“I did tell you the truth,” he lied, his typical calm voice masking his frustration at the demand, yet it was a lie he could work with. “I’ll even prove it to you.”

He stood up, taking the child with him, and walked into the center of the U-shaped conference table. In the middle was a holo-projector, one connected to a small computer terminal that would display any image found in the ship’s database. Given that he was the one who authorized the transfer of the Light of the Force from Alliance to Jedi command, he had made sure the entire Jedi Archives were accessible to the ship's computers in the event the Jedi Temple on Tython was ever destroyed beyond repair.

A holographic image of Lehon came to life as he entered its coordinates into the terminal. Entering more detailed information, the image zoomed in until it reached the area he had been. From afar, their eyes could see the Temple of the Ancients and a number of other ruins, and the one where he had washed to shore was the one he finally zoomed in on more.

Pointing to the compound, one shown mostly intact in this older image, he said, “At the height of the Infinite Empire, the Rakata controlled a vast portion of the galaxy. After their collapse, the Rakata dwindled in numbers until there were only a few pockets of civilization left on Lehon. One of those civilizations called themselves the Elders. Ashamed of their imperial history, the Elders helped an ancient Jedi called Revan destroy a superweapon known as the Star Forge.”

He assumed she knew about the events of the Jedi Civil War, but, given that they were nearly 5,000 years ago, even many Jedi were not as properly versed in history as they should be. At the very least, she could consider this a refresher course, one that would provide context to what he was saying.

“I entered the ruins of the Elders’ enclave,” the Grand Master continued, “and when I was there I was reminded of a story my father once told me. He said that, according to legend, sometime between the Jedi Civil War and the Great Galactic War, a mysterious group returned to the Republic from the far corners of the Unknown Regions. Assuming this is true, there’s no record of them that I know of, but the corrupted files in the Rakatan computers told me two things: a name, Ussej Padric Bac, and the word Lettow. Now, I know the Legions of Lettow were led by Xendor, one of the first Dark Jedi, and that the Bogan Empire was greatly influenced by those teachings, but the name tells me a lot less.”

Entering a few more words into the terminal, the image of Lehon disappeared, replaced by the image of a young man, somewhere in his late 20s or early 30s. He was tall, a few centimeters shy of two meters, with short, dark blonde hair and light brown eyes. He had tan white skin and a faint scar across his right cheek. Wearing the robes of the ancient Jedi clearly identified him as a member of the old Jedi Order.

Spoiler: What the man looks like

“This is Ussej Padric Bac,” Jhon said. “All the archives have about him are this image and a paragraph. He was a Jedi Knight during the Great Territorial War and fought in a grand total of one battle. He was born on Alderaan to Senator Padric Bac II and Princess Talia Antilles, making his birth the most interesting thing that the Archives think ever happened to him. If this is the extent of his biography, then he is the definition of a historical footnote."

The holographic image faded away as the projector shut down, and he turned back to Kara, telling her, “And yet, this ancient Jedi and Lettow are the only leads I have to find these mystery people and find out if they can help us defeat the Empire once and for all.”

 

[Green Ranger]

Kara knew Jhon was avoiding the issue, but it could wait. The information he had presented to her was certainly a curiosity, and it was enough to distract her for the time being. Part of her knew that it was his intention to do so, but she couldn't help herself.

"If this...Ussej was so unimportant, then why would his name be in the Rakatan computers, and why would it be associated with the Legions of Lettow of all things? Furthermore, how would his name, or even the information of that era even make its way into the Rakatan data systems? The Infinite Empire predated the republic by millenia, let alone Xendor..."

The Jedi Master paused in thought for a moment, resting her chin on her hands as she considered the information. "Another thing - even the most unnoteworthy Jedi of the Old Order had more information kept on them then such a basic outline - the Order was fanatical about preserving knowledge - it has always been a cornerstone of our work. Were the Archive files corrupted? I doubt the history logs of the article were preserved for all of this time...the Jedi Temple was destroyed several times since then and now, and then there was the Purge..."

Kara trailed off. One of the most important aspects of the history of the Order, the Clone Wars and the Jedi Purge still left a foul taste in the Jedi Master's mouth. Though no doubt an interesting aspect of history, the events that unfolded in that era were a painful time to study. Even now, many Jedi could trace their histories back to those that were prosecuted and murdered in those dark years...

 

[Brandon Rhea]

“The Rakatan enclave was in ruins,” Jhon said. “I’m amazed it lasted as long as it did. I asked for any files between the Jedi Civil War and the Great Galactic War. Most of it was corrupted, but the computer gave me those two names.”

But that wasn’t all the computer did, now that he thought about it. The artificial intelligence within it seemed almost humanly eager to speak with him, and spoke of Jhon’s role as a Jedi with as much respect that a computer could.

“It also seemed to respond to the fact that I’m a Jedi,” Jhon told her, “as if it was programed to offer me whatever information I asked for. Revan could be the reason for that, but there’s no indication that I know of that he returned to the Elder settlement after the Star Forge was destroyed. Someone programmed the computer to offer the Jedi information. But who?”

The Grand Master turned the projector back on, and it came to life with the image and read out of Ussej Padric Bac again. He stared at it for a moment, wondering who that man was. Kara’s questions all raised only more questions. How and why his name was in the files were two mysteries, but there was the who and the when; who added it, and when did they add it?

Who are you? Jhon wondered as he watched the holo-image of Ussej.

“There’s only one way to find out if the Archives' history logs were preserved,” Jhon told her, “and I’m not about to share this information with anyone else yet. You up for a detour to Coruscant?”

 

[Green Ranger]

Kara stood up from her chair, walking over to a nearby viewport. For most, the swirling energy of the fabric of hyperspace was a dangerous, chaotic mass that had driven many an adventurer mad. For Kara, it was oddly soothing. She always found herself more centered when staring into the void.

"What we know of Rakatan technology is limited, but if that computer was built by the Infinite Empire, it should have restored itself by now. Rakatan technology is self-repairing, something we still don't fully understand ourselves. Which means that whatever information that was in that computer was removed on purpose...or at least that the console was sabotaged in anticipation of the information getting into the wrong hands. And...it couldn't have been Revan. As far as we know, he only travelled there twice, and never long enough to enter new information on the Jedi like that."

The Jedi Master glanced back at Jhon momentarily, then at the bundle in his arms. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again. Whatever she had to say, she kept it to herself. It was time she begun to trust in the Force to reveal the answers she sought.

"I can't detour the Light, you know that. What with the combat trials successful, the Council will be expecting her back in a few days, fully equipped to handle the two hundred Jedi we're initially transferring. Besides which, if you're going for a discreet approach, a warship probably isn't the best form of transport either - especially given that we're supposed to rendesvous with the Preceptor and the Resilient in two days."

 

[Brandon Rhea]

Jhon couldn’t help but let out a smile. He may have been reading her wrong, but either Kara was too self-confident in her own command abilities or too lacking in confidence about his. In a way, it was refreshing. So much had happened to the Jedi these past months; The Will of the Force, the bombing of the Jedi Temple, the loss of two Grand Masters and the deaths of Council members. They all looked to Jhon now.

He never truly appreciated that until the candlelight vigil on Coruscant in the days after the attack. Hundreds of thousands of people were there. They were Jedi, civilians, politicians, and soldiers, and they all looked to him for guidance, for leadership, for hope. Hope was what they received. The young Padawan pulled from the rubble of the burning temple that night told everyone, even Jhon, that in the midst of so much darkness, bright lights could inspire the spirits of even the most cynical of souls.

Since that night, the Jedi looked to him for all of the answers. To be viewed as incompetent or somewhat less than fully competent gave him a break from the rigors of being people’s superhero. Not that he would ever say that out loud, of course.

“I never said anything about the Light,” Jhon told her. “I asked if you were willing to take a detour. You may be a commander now, but, given your expertise in the field of lore and your knowledge of this mystery, you’re the perfect person to help me begin deciphering it.”

 

[Green Ranger]

Whatever the Grandmaster's thought were eluded Kara, even moreso then before. Kara herself had never been especially good at reading other people, but she knew enough to get by. Clearly Jhon knew quite a bit more then she did - not surprising, considering his mastery of the Force - and managed to keep his thoughts close to his chest. Still, she did feel somewhat frustrated. He was almost too guarded...she discarded the thought quickly. Now was not the time for paranoia.

"Vorkuul knows the ins and out of Jedi protocol," she said, thinking aloud, "and he knows our next assignment...the Council will no doubt ask questions about my absence, though. Still, Coruscant's only a few parsecs from Tython anyway, and with the fleet assembly procedures, we may even arrive before them."

The Jedi Master paused, thinking quickly. The moment she had been assigned to the fleet, she had set to knowing the ins and outs of the entire fleet. Now was just a matter of finding the right craft for the job.

"I hope you're not expecting some cushy shuttle, though - travel by starfighter will take only three quarters of the time, at least with the new Rogues. What are you like with Alliance-3 cockpit configurations?"

 

[Brandon Rhea]

Jhon threw up his free arm, scoffing in indignation. Shaking his head, his face betrayed a look of disgust at the idea of having to fly in a starfighter. His expression said nothing more than that Kara had some nerve telling him he wouldn’t be able to fly in anything less than the most luxurious means available.

“This is outrageous!” Jhon snapped. “I am the Grand Master of the Jedi, former Chief of State of the Galactic Alliance, one of the most powerful beings in the galaxy, and someone who commands the respect of men, women, and children everywhere. The idea that I would have to fly in some plebeian fighter is nothing more than—”

He stopped his rant, having let the facade go on long enough. Smirking, he told her, “Yes, Master Vaalki, I’m quite content using the cockpit configurations. I’ve been a Jedi all my life, and I’ve accepted the Way fully. I have no expectations about means of getting from point A to point B.

“And you needn’t worry about the Council,” Jhon said, stepping into territory he wasn’t entirely comfortable with. “If they ask questions, all they need to know is that you were on a sensitive assignment with me. I am the leader of the Council, after all.”

--------------------​

The Grand Master rarely visited the temple on Coruscant, even before it was destroyed in the Sith attack months earlier. Tython had long been the seat of the Order, and Jhon much preferred the Sage Halls of Empress Teta. Even as Grand Master, living in the temple on Tython felt entirely out of place, though he never would have let on to that fact. Jedi went where the Force took them, and he had been guided to Tython. Perhaps someday he would be able to return to Empress Teta, but that seemed less and less likely every passing day.

As he mounted the steps of the Coruscanti temple, he marveled at the reconstruction efforts, with over half of the temple now rebuilt. The upper levels were still being built, and from them would emerge five spires. In the last millennia, the temple had taken on a more pyramidal shape, forgoing the look of the old Jedi, but the Alliance and the Jedi both wanted to return to something more recognizable, more iconic. The Jedi of old had many flaws, but it was the Jedi of now who needed to honor the past and show hope for a long and bright future.

Along with Kara, and with Andraste’s daughter held snug and out of sight within his cloak, Jhon walked through the temple, keeping the brown hood of his cloak up to avoid the work crews and few Jedi within the building from recognizing him. Being in view of the public was dangerous; if one person who was even slightly untrustworthy recognized him, the chances of the Dark Lord finding out that he and the girl were alive exploded dramatically.

So with haste, he made his way to northwest corner of the temple, where the Coruscanti temple’s archives had been rebuilt. The main archives were on Tython, but Coruscant had a backup of all files, just as the Light of the Force did. Once there, he entered the empty archives. The room buzzed with the electronic sounds of the archive computers, but not a soul was in sight, save for the two Jedi and the child who now entered it.

“Try to find any reference to Lettow outside of our basic knowledge of Xendor,” Jhon told Kara. “I’ll see what I can find about Ussej Padric Bac.”

He began walking towards a computer terminal in the Jedi history section of the archives, and said, "Be sure to check the datalogs for any relevant files too. I want to know if they've been tampered with."

 

[Green Ranger]

Kara herself hadn't stepped foot in the Coruscant Temple for some times...years, in fact. She remembered she was just a young girl, on the verge of womanhood, brought to study the Archives by her Master. The trip had been brief - such was the way of her early years with the Jedi, always on the move. It was...unsettling to see the Temple so marred, but the reconstruction efforts lifted her spirits somewhat. Before she had left the Light of the Force, the Jedi Master traded in her traditional robes for a simple black flightsuit with the Order's emblem emblazoned on one shoulder in blue, her two lightsabers hanging from her right hip. She had tied her hair back into a more functional tail - her typical day to day appearance, really.

It gave her a hard, somewhat icy appearance, which suited her usual demeanour rather well. And, after all, she had a reputation to uphold. Besides which, if Jhon wanted to remain is unnoticeable as possible, she had to make herself obvious to distract attention away from him. The Jedi Master always made sure to keep two steps in front of Cordatus, who, with his head down, his face obscured by his hood would appear an invited guest, at least to all but the most observant.

For a Lore Master, most would expect a place like the Archives to be like a second home to her. The truth was she actually tried to avoid the place like the plague. Active learning and discussions were her forte, not endlessly poring over articles. Still, there were times when she was forced to consult the archives. She sat down at one of the consoles and set to work. Rather then attempting to find direct references to the Lettow and the Bac name Jhon had found, however, she instead began her search in the Jedi Civil War, looking through historical pieces from then onwards in hopes of finding another reference to Lehon or the Bac name between the time when Revan rediscovered the world and destroyed the Star Forge, and when Darth Bane was fabled to have ventured to the alien world. If there was a connection between the Bac name, Lehon and the Lettow, the name would have had to have significant importance sometime in that era. At least, so she hoped.

 

[Brandon Rhea]

Jhon began searching the Archives computers for any sign of Ussej Padric Bac. He’d had weeks now to consider what it all meant, why he was even looking for it...and what that “it” even was. Nothing made sense. It all seemed too convenient. He was never one to believe that destiny brought people to unexpected places at unexpected times, least of all in a fight to the death with the prince of darkness, but he was beginning to reconsider that lack of belief. How else could he explain washing up on that shore and being drawn, seemingly against his will, into the Rakatan settlement?

He looked through the entry on Ussej Padric Bac once it popped up on his view screen. There was nothing out of the ordinary about it, being the same file that had been accessed aboard the flagship, but this time he had the ability to directly access to the file logs to see what changes, if any, had been made. Jhon attempted to do so, but an error message flashed across his screen, and the read out said only one thing.

THE DESERT THAT NO LIGHT TOUCHES

That didn’t make any sense. Aside from the scientific implausibility, there was no reason to lock a file with such a code, unless... A riddle. That was it. It didn’t seem particularly complicated, but it would take a few moments to figure it out.

“The desert that no light touches,” Jhon called out to Kara. “Does that mean anything to you?”

 

[Green Ranger]

Kara lifted her head from the console, thinking carefully. It seemed awfully evasive for an archive note - probably why Jhon was asking about it. Her mind raced through the obvious - a desert planet with no natural starlight...perhaps in a system with a dead star, or a planet with a rotation that matched the orbital speed, leaving one side in perpetual darkness? Her mind drew a blank. Unless...

"As a literal reference, it makes no sense - or it references a planet I've never heard of, at least. Maybe a historic text or a piece of art - a title for something?"

Kara paused. She was still taking it too literally. It could be a question or...no, a riddle. That had to be it. She allowed herself a smirk in spite of herself. It was clever, she had to admit that much.

"Maybe the word 'light' is metaphoric, as in the Light Side of the Force? Then we'd be looking for a desert planet heavy in the Dark Side. And the obvious answer would be..."

She trailed off, letting Jhon finish her thought. They both knew where this was headed.

 

[Brandon Rhea]

"Korriban," he muttered. "Damn it."

That made no sense at all, at least on the surface. Korriban was the heart of the ancient Sith empires. Even though Bastion was the capital of the Sith now, Korriban was still a heavily guarded and sacred world for the Sith Order. For what purpose would the Jedi lock a file on an ancient Jedi Knight, someone who seemed to be a nobody's nobody in the grand scheme of things? Something told Jhon that he would be on Korriban before too long as well.

"Go figure," he said, looking down at the baby, as if he was talking to her. "After all the times destiny decided to throw Tatooine out as the important desert planet, we get Korriban. Terrific."

Not wasting anymore time, Jhon entered the password and dug into the file history, looking to see if any changes had been made. There was nothing in particular that seemed changed for the last several centuries, and even then most of the changes were cosmetic at best. It was the access log that drew Jhon's attention, and there he saw a name he never expected.

"Skhai Baatch," Jhon said. "She's a teacher in the Sage Halls, and a personal friend. She accessed this file a half an hour after we did on the Light. That's no coincidence..."

He would have to give this thought, but he was more interested in moving this along before they were caught. "Have you found anything on Lettow?"

 

[Green Ranger]

Kara frowned as she continued poring over the articles. There was absolutely no reference she could find...or rather it had been hidden too well for her to come across easily. Either way, it could take days to come up with anything, and her instincts told her that the reference to Korriban, while dangerous, was also probably their best lead at this point.

"I think I'm a little too used to the Archives having the information I need easily...this investigation and source checking is a little beyond me," she admitted with a half smile, though her eyes betrayed the sense of disappointment in herself. If information had been so easily removed from the archives, what was to say it couldn't happen again? For a moment, the Jedi Master began to doubt the credibility of the entire system, though it soon passed. She looked over to Jhon and gave a wry smile.

"Well, at least Korriban's a change of pace. Red sands instead of yellow...though the Force does seem to have a sense of humour. Barren wastelands seem to be a poplar site for anything important in this blasted galaxy."