Tython: A Place of Origins

Databanks confirmed. Jedi Knight Wei Wu Wei. Also known as the Force Cripple.

Wei sat strapped into the cockpit of Obi-wan Kenobi's Jedi Starfighter, staring at a small screen that displayed the communications of an astromech droid.

"I remember that..." Wei's voice trailed off as his mind took him back years before.

His first memories in the Jedi temple greeted him gently as he found them. He was a Youngling then. Only just old enough to understand Galactic Basic, walk, and talk. The Jedi Masters watched the Younglings at play. But only one was the topic of their discussion.

What do you mean, he's not showing any signs of Force Sensitivity? You said when you visited Talus last this boy showed much promise.

It's true, I did. And I still remain assured of that fact. I've been trying a few things to see what might have happened, and this is what I've got so far.

A Miralukan Jedi reached into a small box nearby and produced a ceramic bowl along with an elegantly crafted wooden rod about a handspan long.

Witness, Master, what happens when I use this near the boy. Wei Wu Wei! Will you please come see me?

The image turned to face the Miraluka, and approached with the clumsy running steps of an eager toddler.

See what happens. The Miraluka caretaker cupped the bowl in the palm of his hand. He picked up the rod and traced the edge of the bowl in slow smooth circuits. After several revolutions of the rod around the bowl's lip, a pure, clear tone emanated through the room.

The Jedi Master looked from the bowl to the boy. As the tone continued to stretch into the room, the Master could sense a presence. Someone indeed strong in the Force. But who was it?

How can this be?

The Miraluka shrugged. We don't know.

Let us take him before the Council and then we shall decide what to make of him. Let us depart at once.

Wei, it's time to go.

A shrill whistle brought Wei to his senses. Approaching the planet, Tython. Estimated time of arrival five minutes.

Tython. Wei could see it through the front viewport. Who knew what was there after all this time? Wei brought a shaking hand to his face to wipe at his sweating brow. At least he could be confident of one thing: there wouldn't be anything to drink down there.

"You have failed, Inquisitor. Though your failure is not as complete as it would have otherwise been, according to your report. Two Jedi?"

Inquisitor Atrapes was able to retain his inscrutable look, even through a holographic projector.

"Yes, Inquisitor," she replied.

"I will see about sending operatives to the planet. It seems to have been playing host to much more activity than would be suspected. In any case, its relative lack of population and distance from established trade lanes may serve nicely."

He seemed to be speaking to himself more than to her, but one could never actually tell with the Administrator of Imperial Centre. He favoured her with a look, measuring look.

"The beacon's signal is coming from the Deep Core. From our records taken from the Jedi Archives, it is believed Wei is heading to the planet of Tython."

"Tython, Inquisitor?" she asked. She'd never heard of it. "I shall head there immediately."

Atrapes nodded and cut the transmission, leaving Inquisitor Iscandar in the dark and quiet comm room.

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"You survived," Atrapes said, looking at her measuringly. Palara gasped, holding her side. Her ribs were likely broken.

"Yes," she managed to answer, ignoring the dead bodies that surrounded her.

"You've managed to pass the initiation into the Inquisitoriate. Welcome, Inquisitor Iscandar."

She stood, and closed her eyes against the pain.

"Focus," the Inquisitor's voice cut into her thoughts. "Clear your mind of all thoughts, as you did when your former masters were raping you."

Palara's eyes opened, and she saw Atrapes staring at her intently, though without sexual desire. His eyes conveyed a distinct sense of carelessness: a pitilessness and lack of feeling not often found outside of droids and machines. She closed her eyes, and began the process of dissociating her consciousness from her body.

"Good. There is still a pressure about you. Open yourself to it."

The pain was fleeing before the small, cold, refreshing current of light flowing through her. She breathed, as if for the first time.

"That is the Force. I can teach you to use it. Would you like to learn?"

Still within the embrace of the Light, Palara knew he was offering her a simple choice, a choice between serving the Empire, or death. He was a dark, almost colourless being, grey as ash, and dead to the Force, save for the moments when he needed to use it.

"Yes. Teach me to use zis."

Atrapes smiled, though there was no warmth in the expression.

"Good. Follow me, and we will see to your wounds."

Palara spared a last glance at the people whom had died for this chance at life. The current of light flowing through her did not take away her grief, but allowed her to act while simultaneously relieving the pressure of tears, for now.

I am sorry.

The antique starfighter descended through the clouds from space. Wei could never get over descending to a planet's surface. In space, moving down didn't always carry a down feeling: it was just one more direction to move. But once a spacecraft got deep enough into the atmosphere, the sense of down inevitably would make a sudden and authoritative appearance.

Wei leaned out towards the forward viewport to take in the landscape growing larger in his sight. Lush green trees and plants moved in the wind. Tall white stone ruins pushed up out of the forest looking to paint the old stone a chlorophyll color.

Why was he here?

"R4? Why are we here?"

This is one of only four planets still considered Jedi space.

"Ok..." The former Jedi replied. Then he remembered his father's last wish and the data he worked so hard to decode back at Count Dooku's manor. "May I see a map of the galaxy please?"

Immediately a map of the entire galactic Republic appeared on the screen. Wei checked the star map his father left for him against the one in R4's databanks.

"Umm," Wei said. He kept looking back and forth between the fighter's display and his datapad. Nothing seemed to match up. He couldn't seem to keep the images in his memory long enough to make any good comparison. He could feel his frustration rising and his need for alcohol rise to match.

Bioscan indicates you are under duress. Please take calming breaths.

Wei registered the text on the screen, but it did nothing to ease his woes. Still, he tried. "I'd rather have a Corellian brandy."

There is none. You must cope with your addiction without alcohol.

"This is not a good time for lectures, R4. I'm trying to figure out these two maps."

The droid's annoyed tweeting reached Wei's ears despite the noise of the engines. Then link the datapad to the navicomputer and upload the map to the computer. Then overlay the maps to check for correctness.

Wei could almost imagine the little droid saying, Idiot.

Wei found the link cable compartment, jacked the datapad into the computer, and sent the command. R4 set up the maps.

"This is one on the list! We'll need to visit all four Jedi planets to figure out what my father was after."

You've changed quite a bit since the time your latest profile was written up.

Wei saw the message out of the corner of his eye, but before he could comprehend it, the droid replaced it with Landing sequence initiated. Touching down in thirty seconds.

It was one thing to know where Tython was; it was a completely different and almost dizzingly difficult thing to get to the planet.

"Ze Deep Core is always such an 'assle," Inquisitor Iscandar murmured under her breath. Tython was only a few million more years away from being torn apart by the rampant gravitational forces in the deepest core of the galaxy.

The route through the maze of gravitational wells such as stars, black holes, quasars, and other assorted and deadly obstacles was a winding one that required absolute perfection on the part of the maps and navicomputers that would set their courses.

The route sent to her needed to be corrected slightly, as things had changed slightly in the time since the maps had been made. Thankfully, the changes were only to make certain of events that had occurred afterwards; the maps themselves were made to account for the orbital drift of the wells around the galactic centre.

The trip itself was long and, seeing what looked like a mostly temperate planet relieved Inquisitor Iscandar somewhat. At the very least, they wouldn't be fighting in a desert during a dust storm.

"Find a suitable landing site near ze Jedi's ship."

"Yes Inquisitor - " the pilot's response was cut short as they entered the atmosphere.

"Report!" she called while the ship rocked around them.

"Shield emitters are down!" the pilot called. "Ablative plating still holding under the heat stresses of atmospheric entry. Scanners and sensory arrays aren't gone, but they're close to being lost."

The ship landed roughly, farther away from the Jedi than she would have liked; now they would be unable to secure the landing site and keep him from leaving.

"Secure ze site, sergeant," she commanded the leader of her Inquisitorial Trooper squad. "Give what aid is required to repair ze damage. I will go and capture ze Jedi."

"Yes Inquisitor," the sergeant nodded, saluting and cutting off the internal holocommunication terminal.

Standing, the twi'lek Inquisitor made her way to the boarding ramp, and exited the ship, finding herself staring at a massive forest surrounding their small clearing. A small trail, overgrown from lack of use, lead away, as if beckoning her to some unknown end.

She took the path, sensing the Jedi further along, closer to what could only be ruins. Idly, she gave a wary thought to the Force, which more and more seemed to be pushing her onto a path not of her own making.

Wei held the hilt of his lightsabre tightly in his left hand. The ruins were coming closer with every step he took. He was nervous if not outright scared. What would he find?

Despite his inner turmoil, Wei's surroundings were actually quite serene. Forest intermingled with rolling plains across a hilly landscape. A fresh cool breeze played with his hair as it caressed his face. Some native bird called out a sleepy tone from its perch in some high treetop.

It did nothing for him. "Strange though, I used to love these sorts of places." Now it seemed like all he enjoyed as a bar. A place where he could drink and try to forget.

The last time he felt so nervous in a peaceful place was that day in the Council chamber.

--------

Wei Wu Wei, Master Ki-Adi Mundi said in a gentle tone, do you know why we brought you to this place?

Wei was perhaps three standard years old then. He didn't really understand what was going on, but for some reason all the grown ups looking at him gave him the impression he was in trouble. The toddler shook his head.

We want to play a game with you. Just a little guessing game is all. Is that all right?

Wei shrugged. Master Yoda, a little green person only a few inches taller than Wei, sat in his seat holding a small screen.

On this screen, an image will appear. Guess what that image is, you will. The wizened Jedi Master smiled. Be at peace, Youngling. Just for fun, this game is.

Wei didn't believe Master Yoda, but he nodded his head all the same.

-------

The whiskey Jedi winced at the thought. He didn't like these memories. Those times were so much simpler than things were now. Wei looked at the ancient temple. The oldest standing memory of the Jedi Order. The very oldest. He found his heart ached for those days. He missed being a Jedi with all his shattered soul.

"It's too late, though."

Wei shook his head as though it would make these encroaching memories evaporate from his mind. If anything, they only stood more prominently in his thoughts.
--------------

Wei guessed things at random. Though the Masters' faces never faltered, the boy had a sinking feeling he was not doing well.

At last, Master Yoda handed the screen to Master Windu, who sat on the alien's left.

Windu's intense expression never seemed to change. He seemed so focused on the screen, Wei imagined it might actually start to warp under his gaze.

Shall we try again? Windu asked.

Wei shrugged. Ok, he managed.

Windu beckoned for the caretaker and his bowl. The caretaker stepped forward and traced its edges with the wooden rod. The pure clear tone filled the room. Windu raised the screen in front of his face.

Begin, little one.

Wei continued to guess, but somehow he could almost see what it was Windu was looking at. A cup. A ship. A rock. A ball. A tower. As the game continued, the little boy got more excited and more confident. He was sure he was doing well this time!

That is enough, Windu said. He rested the screen in his lap. Wei Wu Wei, thank you for coming to play a game with us. It is time to eat. Please leave with the Caretaker.

The Miralukan extended a hand to the tot. Wei took it, and went with his caretaker to get something to eat. Noodles today! Your favorite! The Miralukan said with a smile.

------

Wei looked at the sabre hilt in his hands. The turned it around in his palm until he could see the button that switched it on. He placed his thumb on it and hit the switch. Wei had always been fascinated by how suddenly the blade sprang to life. The hum it made that never seemed to disappear.

The former Jedi stopped in the path to stare at the sea-green blade. The hum reached his ears, filled his brain, and trickled down into his fingers and toes. His belly felt warm. His heart felt lighter. Wei didn't just see the grass and trees: he felt them. In the Force, he felt what it was like to be the trees and stand so still and so solitary for years and years. He could sense what it was like to sit so high as a bird and how effortlessly freeing flight was. The stillness, the simplicity of simply being reached into him just as his consciousness reached out into the world.

Then he found something else. An intent to harm. Someone was out here to do someone no good. Not knowing what else to do, Wei shut his eyes and followed the Force to the Imperial ship and the Twi'lek who was heading towards him.

"They're after me?" Wei asked no one in particular.

Then he felt what was ahead of him. The Temple. Even empty, the Force gathered there. What he needed was there. He could get it. But he had to make sure the Empire didn't get him first.

Wei took a deep breath of clean calm air, opened his eyes, and ran with all his might towards the temple ruin.

The Light was strong here. For a moment, it carried her off, and she sensed all the life around her, singing joyously in the Force. But she regained control of herself, and focussed, though allowing the Light to flow through her with little in the way of obstruction.

"'E is runinng," she gasped, sensing everything more clearly here. Despite the Light prevalent here on this planet, the Dark could be sensed in some places.

She ran, using the sheer amount of Light around her to boost her speed, only slowing down when the Temple came into, and Wei's figure running up the stairs into the entrance.

Taking a deep, calming breath, she followed.

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"The Force, Inquisitor Iscandar, is an energy force. It surrounds us, penetrates us," he'd been using such language purposefully, to push her past her pain. "It fills all things."

She looked at Atrapes, calming herself with long, thoughtful breaths.

"We move the Force," he said, entering into a small room with a raised dais in the center of it. "Those whom are sensitive to the Force can tap into that field of energy, and can wield it, shape it according their will."

He gestured for her kneel; she waited until he was kneeling before she dropped to her knees and assumed the meditative position.

"As before. Empty your mind of all thoughts. There will be a time when you may think and still be in this meditative state, but that requires practice."

She grasped onto the Light, allowing the small trickle to enter and cleanse her, washing away her aches and pains. Atrapes continued to watch her.

"You have a natural affinity for the Light side of the Force, Inquisitor. We do not have many who use it. Our work is often more conducive to the Dark. But it does not matter. As an Inquisitor, which side of the Force you use is of no consequence. It is in how you use it. The Force is resource of which the Empire has need. Both Light and Dark have their uses. But, and this is paramount, we cannot allow ourselves, as the Jedi and Sith did, and do, to become servants of whichever path we choose. We are masters of the paths we walk, Inquisitor. Do not allow the Force to unduly influence your actions."

She had so many questions, but she waited. He would answer nothing at all if she asked out of turn.

"Stand, and take a lightsaber from the rack. We will begin training now."

She stood, careful to keep herself centered in the Force, and walked over to the rack of lightsabers.

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She took the stair three at a time, desperate to keep Wei's figure in sight, but he disappeared into the Temple before she could get close enough to see where exactly he had gone.

She stopped, restraining the urge to fling herself into a random direction. Instead, she closed her eyes and concentrated. He was... there!

With a quick breath, Iscandar took off in pursuit of the Jedi Wei Wu Wei, in the heart of the dilapidated and crumbling Jedi Temple.

Wei paused inside the vestibule of the temple ruin. His pursuer was right behind him, but the Force needed time. Wei understood, but in the back of his mind his addiction fed on his fear. "Hurry!" Wei whispered to his lightsabre.

Then he felt it: she approached. He needed to turn and face her, but if he did, would he still be able to focus on finding what he needed?

Don't worry, Wei. If we need it, it will turn up. Wei's caretaker smiled in the picture book of his memory.

Hands shaking from nerves and a linger desire for booze, Wei turned to face his pursuer. At least he wasn't sweating. Yet.

Wei was waiting for her, standing, looking haggard and weak. Inquisitor Iscandar stopped a few feet from him, wary; he had, after all, held off a squad of Inquisitorial troopers and even more Stormtroopers by himself.

"I am ordered to capture you," Iscandar said, catching her breath. She focussed, letting the Light flow through her; she ignored the vague sense she was getting, the Force was pushing her away, telling her to stop. She was the Master of her own path. She was the Master of her own path.

"Will you yield, Jedi?" she asked, pulling her lightsaber from her belt.

Wei took one long, deep breath. "Only as a sapling yields in a strong wind."

Where did that come from?

The former Jedi raised his lightsabre. "I have better things than to be your prisoner."

Anger joined Anxiety and Addiction. Wei fought the down the surging red-hot emotion as best he could. Only he had a face to put on the invisible group that wrecked his home, his life, and left his family dead on the kitchen floor.

This woman might not have been related to that particular incident. But she certainly was connected to whoever was. Wei was sure of it. He held his lightsabre in front of him with a solid two-handed Shii-Cho grip. The blade's glow obscured Palara's face which managed to take the edge off of Wei's anger. Perhaps it was true what they said: face masks and full-cover helmets dehumanize people.

Wei's mind was filling up with more than he could think about at the moment. He felt so scattered, but he needed to be collected. He needed to focus.

"Leave me alone."

"I cannot," Inquisitor Iscandar said, igniting her lightsaber and settling into a stance.

He was giving her muddled readings. He seemed weak, haggard, and almost completely at her mercy. Where was the Jedi who so elegantly escaped her squad on Tatooine?

Iscandar firmed her expression.

"If you shall not surrender, zen I will have to capture you by force."

She leapt, spinning acrobatically in the air to land to the side of the Jedi. A quick swipe of her lightsaber was followed by a helicopter kick, her lightsaber held out to catch his legs if he tried to duck the kicks.

Wei escaped the first slash with a quick backwards step, but caught a booted heel in the chest when he jumped the lower sabre attack. Better bruised ribs than severed limbs.

Wei started a simple Form I attack velocity: a triple attack starting with Palara's front leg, chest, and sabre-wielding arm. He needed to keep his focus. The two lightsabres' droning hums filled the vestibule. They were constant background noise. The former Jedi just needed to focus on it, rather than tune it out.

But he was still angry, and still scared. It's her fault their dead! The voice in his head rose to compete with the lightsabres' hum.

Iscandar frowned when Wei began his counter attack: slashes at her leg, chest and arm. She deflected them, but it was too easy. She knew she wasn't as skilled as he in lightsaber combat. Why wasn't this more difficult?

"You are angry," Iscandar realized out loud. "Becoming Dark to my senses."

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"Inquisitor," Atrapes stood in front of three people strapped to interrogation tables, nasty constructs that held their prisoners down for any number of interrogation techniques. "You are to be tested. Extract information, in any way you deem fit, that these three have and we need. And then you will decide their fate."

Iscandar nodded, hiding her apprehension and discomfort at the situation behind layers of calm.

"The first: a man charged with treason. He has served many years for the Empire, as a good and loyal spy. However, he was sloppy and was subsequently discovered."

Iscandar walked up to him.

"So it's finally come to this," the spy murmured. "I've given my life in service, and now the Empire has come to take it away on the basis of one mistake."

He was angry, about many things, she could sense.

"'Ow were you discovered?"

"I was sending information to the agents via short encoded bursts and old-fashioned drop offs. It got to be routine and I was followed one day. I sent notice that I was discovered, and the Rebel cell on the planet had moved. It was a small mistake. Is that enough to kill me over? To imprison me for the rest of my life?"

Iscandar thought for a moment.

"Ze Empire 'as spent too much training you to be so wasteful," she said. "You will train ozzers to not make ze same mistakes."

"What?" he asked, disbelieving. "You'll let me live? Thank you, thank you!"

Iscandar turned back to Atrapes, who was watching with a blandly disinterested expression. She could get nothing from him.

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She seized the moment, accelerating the pace of her attacks and switching into the style Solomon had called "Makashi", to further give her an advantage. Wei was not meant for the Dark, but if he let it claim him with all his training in lightsaber combat, she would not last long.

She needed to end this as soon as possible, without Wei dead.

Wei Wu Wei took a breath. He let it out slow. She was using Form II. He knew this one.

**************

Concentrate on the technique, his lightsabre instructor said. Remember, a Jedi does not fight to hurt, but to protect. Don't be like those who swing wildly because they are governed by their passions. We are Jedi. We are in control of our minds. Because we are in control of our minds, we are in control of our technique. And because we are in control of our technique, we control the battlefield.

It was Wei's first lightsabre lesson. The metal hilt quivered in his eager, clumsy grip. His glasses--a recent addition to his usual outfit--sat in the corner by Ron'Ald, a stuffed Rancor the caretaker discovered Wei could manipulate through the Force thanks to childlike imagination. The caretaker feared Wei would become attached to the plush toy, but it was one of the rare instances where the child could use the Force without the need of the steady tone of the bowl.

He stood with his fellow Younglings, waiting to begin.

You may ignite your lightsabres, but do not do anything until I say so. No cutting movements. Don't swing it around. Just hold it in front of yourself. Lightsabres are not a toy.

Wei's little thumb pushed down the red button. The weapon hissed and revealed its blade. Wei was aware of so much now! His glasses had a jelly smudge. Ron'Ald had lint on his hiney. The Instructor had boogers! The little boy laughed a bit.

The Instructor raised his eyebrow. Extinguish your blades, Younglings. I will only be a moment.

*************

Wei concentrated on Makashii. On Palara's movements. He needed to focus on the technique. Wei shifted his stance to mirror Palara's. He moved her attacks aside with a flick of the wrist or a twist of the elbow. When an opportunity presented itself, Wei shot the blade forward in a quick stab.

The more he focused on the fight, the less he focused on who he was fighting, and why. He was beginning to calm down. His mind grew clearer. Soon only the sound of lightsabres rang in his ears.

Wei's emotions were stabilising, and the fight was turning into a series of parries and thrusts, their footwork leaving divots and scrapes in the dusty and overgrown corridors of the old Jedi Temple.

She preferred Ataru, as Solomon had called it. That style was quick, unpredictable, and she could utilize her legs and free hand for attacks. As it was, she was getting pressed more and more into a defensive position.

But she was not going to let herself be defeated so easily. She pivoted and began to make quicker attacks, putting Wei on the defensive for only a moment, he swept aside a thrust and Iscandar stepped forward, closing the distance between them greatly, and jumped up, aligning herself horizontally to the ground, and kicking Wei in the chest with both feet.

"Oof!"

Wei hadn't seen it coming. Her tempo ramped up much quicker than he could follow with his rusted out abilities. Palara's boots hit him square. He let loose his breath, giving his ribcage an opportunity to move with the kick and lessen its impact.

Still, the Force was strong with the Inquisitor. The might of her kick knocked the former Jedi off his feet and through what looked like a still solid pillar. As his body passed through the pillar, Wei found out it was not. Lacerated with cracks, the pillar couldn't take the impact. It crumbled into dust. Wei got up with a hand clutching his chest. The other clutched his lightsabre.

More dust and mortar sprinkle down through the air. There was a pause. Wei looked up to see a pile of broken stone fall out of the ceiling the pillar used to support. Wei leapt towards the outer edges of the vestibule. When he regained his feet (again), a large mound of rubble blocked his view of his would-be captor.

Wei chuckled. She couldn't get him now! A person would have to be crazy to try to scale that, lest it shift and crush him on the way down. The wall of rubble extended deeper into the temple. The sun shone through the place where the ceiling used to be.

The dust started to settle, giving Wei a clear view of a staircase leading up to a second level of the Temple.

The Force guides our path, even when we can't see the path for ourselves. Learn to allow yourself to go where the Force leads. Don't struggle. Don't be willful. Just trust that the Force will aid you.

"You still alive over there?" Wei shouted to Palara.

The cave-in came close to burying her on this planet, in the dilapidated, overgrown Jedi Temple. The irony was not lost on her.

"You still alive over there?"

Wei's voice echoed strangely against the walls, giving the sunlight glowing through the settling dust a more supernatural feeling.

She deactivated her lightsaber and measured the pile rubble which extended, implausibly, through the structure nearly to the top. Through the now crumbling and open roof, the sky glowed brightly.

"I am," she called back, settling onto her knees and meditating.

---------------------------------

"Pick your lightsaber, Inquisitor Iscandar," Atrapes said from the center of the raised dais. His own, red, lightsaber glowed against the bright white of the lights which illuminated the dais and nothing else in the room.

She picked one, a curved, elegant looking weapon, though longer than the others. It was one she had made herself, the parts scavenged from the lightsabers of dead Jedi and dark Jedi. None had called themselves Sith for some time now, as far as the Inquisition was aware.

"There are two styles of fighting you are greatly suited for," Atrapes began, standing still on the far side of the dais. "The Acrobatic Style, and Duellist's Style. They have other names, but those names are for different times, for different people than you or myself."

"The Acrobatic Style is very aggressive," Atrapes said, leaping and activating his lightsaber in a single fluid motion. He landed in front of her and swung; she barely brought her own lightsaber to bear and deflect it. "It requires constant movement.

"It favours the trick of constantly changing vectors of attack," Atrapes continued, swinging low towards her legs, she brought her lightsaber down to block the attack, only to find that with a flick of his wrist, he'd brought the blade up and swinging towards her face. She brought her lightsaber up, but once more he'd changed the attack back down to her legs. He pulled the blade short before he cut the limb off at the knee. "Often leaving opponents flat-footed."

Wei looked at the rubble and scratched the back of his head. What did he care if his quarry was still alive? She was out to get him, right?

He is certainly an odd one.

The voices from his past bubbled up in his mind again.


****************
Wei Wu Wei, a lightsabre master will become.

Are you sure, Master?

Yes. The Force flows freely when he is in the presence of an ignited lightsabre. It will be better than carrying around that bowl you use, or a tuning fork.

Masters Yoda and Windu were speaking to the Miralukan caretaker. The young boy waited outside the council chamber, sitting on the floor across from the chamber entrance.

"But if all he knows is combat, how will he handle subtler situations? Don't we risk his fall to the darkside if we teach him only violence and fighting?

"Soon, all Padawans will know violence and fighting very well. Master Obi-wan brings us news of a Clone Army kept in secret by Master Syfo-Dias. As problems with the Trade Federation continue, the closer we become to being embroiled in war."

"Besides," Windu cut in, "The boy's mind remains ever clear during his lightsabre classes. The lightsabre is a tool, and in this case, it will be his crutch. Without it, he cannot use the Force. Without a lightsabre, he will never become Jedi. This is a risk we have to take."

"Lightsabre classes are his favorite. He says he likes the patterns the sabres make when they practice velocities."

"If that attitude he maintains, no fear will we have of him turning to the Dark Side. Soon, a teacher we will give him. He will become a Padawan."

****************

Wei let his hand drop. He supposed he could only go towards the stairs, so he walked along with lightsabre still humming, dragging the blade's tip idly along the rubble and leaving a bright orange line behind him.

From the foot of the stairs, he could see another broken set reaching upwards. Jedi were always invested in symmetry in their architecture. Wei climbed the stairs, jumping where there was a gap, and stood on the landing. He couldn't see Palara from where he stood.

The second floor was really just a series of raised walkways: two along the walls that granted access to classrooms, conference rooms, and hallways leading off to what Wei supposed would have once been living quarters. The walkways that used to tie the two sides together had long since cumbled into the atrium below.

Where to next?

Her eyes opened as she sensed the Jedi making his way up to the second level; she remembered there being two sets of walkways leading up, and he was likely climbing up the walkway on his side of the pile of rubble.

Now that she was no longer focused on defeated Wei, and without a way to get to the Jedi, Inquisitor Iscandar allowed her attention to slip into her surroundings. The Temple was peaceful.

"Did you study 'ere?" she called, suddenly gripped by curiosity; she stood and began her own ascent into the upper levels of the ancient temple. She would have to see if she could accompany an Inquisitorial investigative team back here later.

"No, this Temple was well abandoned by the time I became a Jedi. I did most of my training during the Clone Wars. In fact, I received my Knighthood three days before Order 66."

And what a struggle it had been to achieve that Knighthood, too. He wasn't sure what to tell her: every bit of information he gave her could be used against him later.

Wei kept his sabre on, trying to reconnect with the Force to sense what he was looking for. He remembered what it was like during that first training session: In the front left corner (which would quickly be known as the Wei spot), the only youngster holding his lightsaber, while every other Youngling only used one during Shii-Cho classes. Feeling singled out and out of sorts with a dozen eyes looking right at him. With the saber activated, he could feel their intentions. Curiosity, jealousy, fear. He wondered if he radiated embarrassment the way they radiated their feelings.

"Coruscant was nice," he said at last.

Palara's presence was keeping him distracted. If he could stand still for a while and focus, he wouldn't be having any problems. As it was, the Inquisitor's constant presence gave him cause for concern. Sure he was safe over here, but she was there, and until he knew he had escaped her, he had to consider her a threat.

"And what about you, Inquisitor? How did you study?"

Inquisitor Atrapes stood to the side of her as she lay flat on her back.

"Continue. If you fail, you will die," he said, watching as she levitated the block of solid metal above her head.

-----------------------------------------------

"I was ze only survivor of my class," Iscandar said shortly. "The Inquisition gathered togezzer a number of us and released us into an arena modelled after a star cruiser. We were told zat ze only way we would leave zat place alive was if all ozzers were dead."

Silence. Iscandar did not like to think of it either; it was very barbaric, but the Inquisition wanted those willing to do anything to survive. Those learned the lessons the Inquisition had to teach the best and most thoroughly.

"I remained 'idden for most of ze affair. Ze few times I was found, I led my attackers to anozzer and set zem upon each ozzer, zough my 'ands did not remain clean for long."