THE DRAGON'S CLAW, PART V
--12 years ago (30 ABY)--
"Another job well done, I say!"
Cheers and laughter broke out as glasses clinked together. Kyle Katarn smirked in spite of himself as he joined in the celebrations, sitting down next to the blond-haired man at the long table.
"Don't get into too much of a celebratory mood, Kalen. We might have won here, but there are still Sith huddled in the Esstran sector to deal with."
Kalen Rusher flashed a roguish grin; a smile that had become his trademark at this point. "Indeed, and we shall deal with them in time. But I'd say today marks a historical point in time."
He gestured widely to the many seated at the table. Jedi Knights, Republic soldiers, and Imperial troopers all sat together, happily drinking and mingling together.
"Age old enemies have been united by a single cause: to erase the stain of the Sith." Kalen's smile became a softer one, as if proud of what he was seeing. "I'd say that alone is worth celebrating."
Kyle found himself unable to argue with that. Their victory here at Endymion had dealt a major blow to the remnants of Darth Vorath's Sith army, with the death of Inquisitor Jerec at Kyle's own hands and the dissolution of all pro-Vorath Imperials. Even with most of the surviving Sith still on Korriban, it was nonetheless a successful mission. Kyle supposed he could drink to that.
Still, he couldn't muster up the same amount of enthusiasm as Kalen and the others. Perhaps it was due to his old friend Toah not being here to partake in the celebrations. Having been the one to have vanquished Vorath himself, it would have only been fitting for him to be here. However, it had been nearly four years since any word from Toah had been heard.
In a way, Kalen almost reminded him of Toah. Noble and idealistic, if a bit more reckless and rogue-like, the young man was very much the face of the Jedi Order's future; the first of the next generation. Having just been made a Jedi Knight a year prior at the young age of twenty-five, he was already sparking talks of him being the next "Chosen One"; not in the sense of fulfilling a prophecy, but in serving as an ideal figure to rally behind in times of strife, as Anakin Skywalker had been during the Clone Wars.
Of course, everyone knew how that had turned out....
Kyle was distracted from his thoughts by the approach of a brown-furred being. The female Cathar, named Nyyra, was one of the three Jedi Knights collectively known as "Kalen's Angels," as they had all trained alongside Kalen and been knighted at his urging. She had a worried look on her feline face as she walked up to Kalen. All of the activity around them died down, as if sensing that something was off.
"Kalen," Nyyra murmured. "You should come see this."
Kalen rose from his seat. "What is it?"
"It's Sare. She and.... Look, just come with me."
Kalen wasted no time in following the Cathar. Kyle sat there for a moment before going after them, saying to the others, "Jedi business. Nothing to worry about. Carry on."
He knew it wouldn't do any good, but it was all he could think to say as he left.
* * *
"Natia! Stop this now!"
Taana Di's pleas fell on deaf ears as the red-haired girl chased after the dark-haired one, the latter quickening her pace towards a solitary Jedi starfighter. Tears streamed down Natia's face as sorrow and anger danced in her green eyes.
"You can't leave me, Sare! This isn't how it's meant to be!"
"Natia, for the last time, I have no interest in being with you," Sare called back. "My future is not with you or with the Jedi. I belong elsewhere."
Catching up to her apprentice, Taana laid a hand on Natia's shoulder and looked towards Sare. "Are you certain this is your path, Sare? This is not a decision many make lightly."
Before the younger woman could answer, a voice called out from nearby. "Sare!"
She turned to see Kalen Rusher running up to her, followed closely by Nyyra and Kyle Katarn. Seeing the concern in her master's eyes, she avoided meeting his gaze, knowing it would only make her second guess herself.
"Sare, what are you doing?" Kalen asked, putting his hands on her shoulders. "Are you... you're not leaving, are you?"
She blew out her breath. "I'm sorry, Master, but this is something I must do."
"What are you talking about? You've barely begun training--"
"Yes, but I can already tell that it is not for me. The life of a Jedi is not the one I seek."
"Then what is?"
"I...." She paused, staring off towards Endymion's setting sun, its light vanishing behind the desert buttes. "I'm not sure. I just know that something besides the Force is calling to me."
Kalen frowned. "It's not the dark side, is it?"
"No," she assured him. "It's something else. Something I must find." Shrugging his hands off, she stepped away from him and finally met his gaze.
"I'm sorry, Kalen, but nothing you or anyone else says can stop me. This is my destiny, and you -- all of you -- must accept that."
She stood there, waiting for him to respond. He did not, simply continuing to stare at her as if his blue eyes were all he needed to make her change her mind. After a minute, Sare turned on her heel and moved towards her ship. Natia tried to take pursuit but Taana's hold on her kept her in place.
The five Jedi all watched on in silence as the dagger-shaped fighter lifted off from the ground and darted into the sky, vanishing into the falling night.
--Now--
Zarin lied awake in bed. Sleep did not come easy to one such as him, a Jedi forced to be a Sith. Then again, he rarely tried. When one lived among Sith, it was best to stay alert at all times.
Instead, he stared at the holocron he had acquired from his grandfather. It was the holocron of Quinlan Vos, a Kiffar Jedi who had lived during the Clone Wars and had survived Order 66. The holocron did not tell him whether or not Vos managed to survive the Purge altogether, but that was not Zarin's concern at present.
No, what he currently sought from the holocron did not even concern Vos himself. He needed facts and confirmation, and Vos' holocron was the only thing he knew of that could give him that. He wasn't certain if it would, of course, but he had to try.
Holding the pyramidal object in his hands, Zarin called upon the Force to activate it. Blue light glowed on all of the holocron's sides as a tiny blue figure appeared before him. Quinlan Vos had a strong build, his long black hair tied up in dreads. His cold, wary eyes met Zarin's as the hologram opened its mouth to speak.
"Greetings, troubled one. My name is Quinlan Vos. What is it that you seek?"
"Answers," Zarin replied. "I don't know if you will have them, but you're the only one I can turn to."
Vos inclined his head. "Ask, and I shall answer."
Zarin took a deep breath before speaking, his tone lowered. "There is a Sith Lord who I am being forced to serve. He calls himself Darth Krayt."
"I know not of a man by that name."
"I didn't think so. However... I feel that he is a former Jedi, from the Old Order."
"What makes you think that?"
"I've heard him speak of taking revenge on the Jedi, as if he has a personal vendetta with them. He also speaks ill of the Skywalker line and calls them the bane of his existence."
"I know of many Jedi who fell to the dark side during my time," Vos said. "I was one of them."
"Yes, but I know it's not you." Zarin thought for a moment, holding his chin. "He calls himself Krayt... could that be in relation to the Krayt dragon of Tatooine?"
"That would narrow it down," Vos replied wryly. "Anakin Skywalker I know was from Tatooine, as was Sharad Hett and his son A'Sharad."
"What became of them, the Hetts?"
"Sharad I know was was killed before the Clone Wars. As for A'Sharad, the last I saw of him was on Saleucami, just before Order 66 was given. I know not of his ultimate fate."
Zarin nodded, hiding a smile. He finally had his lead. "Very well. Thank you, Master Vos."
"I am glad I could be of assistance. Is there anything else I can provide you with?"
Zarin contemplated this, chewing his lip. "You had experience with the dark side, by infiltrating Count Dooku's disciples. How did you handle it? Balancing the dark and the light?"
"Simple," Vos answered. "I didn't. Had it not been for the love I had for those close to me, I would have been consumed by the dark side. The task I undertook was a foolish one; one I would not recommend anyone else try."
Zarin sighed. "Right. A bit late for that now...."
"Have faith, my friend. Hold on to whatever light you can find. Even the smallest of candles can scare the darkness away."
Zarin snorted, shaking his head. "Never thought I'd hear such a sentiment from Quinlan Vos of all Jedi."
"They're my master's words, actually. It's only now, after all I've been through, that I see the truth behind them. Perhaps someday, you will too."
With that, the holocron switched off and Zarin was alone again. Setting the device to the side, he turned over on his side and closed his eyes, hoping to at least get some rest before the sun rose. A long day awaited him.
Despite his pessimism, he couldn't help but feel enlightened by Vos' words, newfound determination beating in his chest. No matter what it took, he would find a way to slay the dragon and free himself, Natia, and Viron of the dragon's claw. He would find that candle and extinguish the darkness.
As sleep gradually consumed him, only one name stuck to the front of Zarin's mind as he drifted off.
A'Sharad Hett.
END OF
THE DRAGON'S CLAW
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