CHAPTER FIVE
Serra Solo did not feel comfortable standing within the Jensaarai's temple on Susevfi. Perhaps it was the tall, foreboding armored guards that surrounded her, her father, and Rikk-Deri. Or perhaps it was the strong dark side aura that she could feel.
Or perhaps it was because the old female Chagrian that sat before them was the creepiest person she had ever met.
Sitting cross-legged in the center of the temple's main chamber, the blue-skinned alien sat with her eyes closed shut in concentration, uttering in a strange, raspy murmur. Her wrinkled hands rested on her lap, though every so often they would suddenly make bizarre motions.
"She's been like this for months," said the Saarai-kaar's husband, Val Marok. "This is the longest period of time she's done this."
Anakin Solo crouched down to be at eye-level with the elderly woman, who did not take notice of him. He slowly waved a hand in front of her, as if attempting to break her trance with the Force. The Saarai-kaar's eyes briefly flickered open, but quickly closed again.
Anakin sighed as he rose up. "I don't know what's going on. Her mind is too confused and-"
Suddenly, the Chagrian's eyelids flew open, her azure irises glowing brightly. She scanned the room, as if in search for something, until her gaze fell upon Serra. The Saarai-kaar shot up to her feet and moved towards her before anyone could stop her. Grabbing Serra by the shoulders, the Chagrian spoke in a low voice.
"Do not go to Yanibar. Do not let them take the Gray Jedi. Do not... follow the trail." At this point, the Saarai-kaar's voice had begun faltering. "Do not... enter the tomb. And... for the sake of the galaxy, do... not...."
The Saarai-kaar's wrinkled hands slipped away from Serra's shoulders as the aged Chagrian collapsed to the floor, having breathed her last. Serra and her father stepped aside as Val Marok rushed to his late wife's body. A tear briefly appeared in the corner of his eye, but it vanished as soon as it had appeared. After a few moments of mournful silence, Marok rose to his feet and regarded the other Jensaarai and their guests.
"I am now the Saarai-kaar," he declared. "I shall carry on the legacy established by our founder and preserve our honored traditions."
The gathered Jensaarai bowed as one and chanted in an unrecognizable tongue, welcoming the ascension of their new leader. With the honors done, Marok turned to face Anakin.
"I am sorry you had to witness that. I fully understand if you have any desire to leave."
"Considering that my brother is no longer here, I'm afraid so," Anakin said. "However, do you know where he took off to?"
Marok seemed to mull over this before saying, "I know not for certain, but he did express interest in visiting an organization called the Mecrosa Order."
Anakin's face clouded, something which Serra noticed but said nothing about. "Where is the Mecrosa Order located?" he asked.
"Somewhere in the Tapani sector, I believe," Marok said. "Beyond that, I am not certain."
"I see." Anakin bowed to the Chagrian. "Thank you for your time, Saarai-kaar."
"And thank your for yours, Master Jedi."
As Anakin, Serra, and Rikk-Deri left the Jensaarai temple, Serra looked up at her father. "Do you know about the Mecrosa Order?" she asked."
"All too well," Anakin said bitterly.
"What is it?"
"A Sith cult."
* * *
He knew about the Mecrosa Order. He knew them all too well.
Established two centuries before the Great Sith War, it had been able to recover from the Old Jedi Order's cleansing of Sith influence within the Tapani sector and was of much use to Emperor Palpatine and later Darth Vorath. They would even obligate the requests of aspiring Sith such as former Emperor's Hand Lumiya.
Now, they had served their purpose. All the knowledge that was to be gained from them had been acquired. They were no longer of any use.
He stalked the decayed grounds of Nyssa, destined for the isolated castle that served as the Mecrosa Order's residence. Two female guards awaited him and instantly readied their spears. A quick twirl of his own weapon easily dispatched them.
He entered the castle, moving through the red-draped halls and talking out any guards that came his way. He soon arrived at the main chamber, where the majority of the Mecrosa resided. At the end of the room was an aged, dark-skinned woman, who instantly took alarm at his arrival.
"Zandra Balis, I presume?" he said.
"Who are you?" the head of House Mecetti demanded, getting up from her regal throne.
"Your worst nightmare."
He then hurled his double-edged blade, effectively cutting down the ancient woman. He then controlled the same weapon with the Force to dispatch Balis' Herglic guards, before summoning it back to his hand.
The rest followed in short succession.
Once the massacre was finished, he deactivated his weapon and returned it to its sheath. He then brought out a small, handheld holoprojector, displaying the incorporeal image of a cloaked figure.
"It is done, master. The Mecrosa Order is no more."
"Well done, Varon Krul," the holographic figure said. "Now then, wait for the quarry to arrive."
"What of those who have set out to find him?" Varon Krul asked. "Shall I deal with them as well?"
"No. I shall handle them. For now, focus on Jacen Solo."
"It will be done, my master."
And so it was with that he sat down and waited.
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