CHAPTER 7
Sarolyn Lordan sat cross-legged, deep in meditation, on the floor of the tiny apartment within the Jedi Temple, a studio flat that she had shared with Bil-Kit Jinn. The bed-sitting room was sparsely furnished; two sleeping mats were spread out on the floor, and an armchair and table faced the window that looked out upon the Coruscant skyline. A pile of cushions were heaped up opposite the chair and shelves packed with mechanical timepieces and archaic scientific instruments lined the walls, objects which showed Bil-Kit’s love of ancient science, working instruments he had built himself.
The apartment seemed cold and empty as Sarolyn tried in vain to focus her mind. So much had happened on Sorensia. MHG’s shocktroopers had brutally oppressed the people of that industrial world, and her Master was dead, murdered in cold blood by a girl with whom she had trained as a child.
Sarolyn shuddered at the thought of Japhta Fett. As a child, a Jedi youngling, Japhta was strong with the Force, but her strength had been compromised by her uncontrollable anger, a rage that even Master Yoda had found difficult to contain.
Sarolyn felt no hatred towards Fett, only pity, for she had been well trained about the dangers of anger. She knew that anger led to hate, which in turn led to suffering, and Japhta was a clear example of that most fundamental of Jedi doctrines.
Sarolyn stood up and walked to the window, where she could see the city lights shining like stars, the only stars visible for the real ones had long since been banished from Coruscant’s light-polluted sky.
She listened to the Music of the Force, a feeling of order and harmony caused by the rhythms of life. This music was not sound in the physical sense, but sensations caused as each life form ate, slept and breathed, the cycles of heartbeats and the cycles of birth and death.
All of these combined to form a pulsating, repetitive pattern that slowly, but gradually, changed and developed, forming new rhythms as the Living Force evolved.
The Music of the Force soothed Sarolyn’s mind, but failed to heal it. She was at a loss at what to do. Sarolyn was due to face the Trials, the final test of a Padawan’s skill and aptitude in the Jedi arts, and she needed guidance for she now had none.
Sarolyn felt empty; empty like the battered old armchair that used to be Bil-Kit favourite place for contemplation. After the shock of seeing him slump to the floor of the docking bay, everything passed like a dream; but once she saw his vacant chair, and his old cloaks hanging up by the doorway, it suddenly sank in that he was gone.
Bil-Kit always meditated in that old chair. It was the one place where the old man felt truly at peace with the Force. He used to sit there, telling her stories from his long career and Sarolyn used to lean on the arm of his chair as she listened to his tales, tales from the long assignment to Tatooine embarked upon when he was a young man.
Sarolyn envisaged the time, long before she was born, when the youthful Bil-Kit Jinn, battered by the sand and the heat from the twin suns, travelled thousands of miles each way across the harsh desert, running errands for the geological institute at which he was based.
Bil-Kit Jinn had been like a grandfather to Sarolyn ever since he had taken her on as his Padawan, and he had taught her virtually everything he knew about the ways of the Force. The two of them often spent many hours in the Workshop, helping the curator of the Jedi Museum by repairing and conserving the artefacts in her care.
Bil-Kit used to tell Sarolyn the stories behind these antiques in a way that allowed her to remove her mind from the present and see with the Force those events from times long past, as if she were truly there.
The Jedi Order was the only life Sarolyn had ever known, having been raised in the Temple by Jedi Knights since she was a baby. At first her origins never bothered her, but eventually she began to question her background, her parentage and her birthplace. Bil-Kit could sense this uncertainty in his young charge, so when the time was right, he took her to a peaceful, grassy planet whose countryside was lush and unspoilt.
The teenage Sarolyn stared, wide-eyed, around her. This planet was one of the most beautiful places she had visited. Fields and meadows of wild flowers stretched in all directions, waving in the breeze, and fluffy, white clouds hung in the sky. Bil-Kit put his arm around her and breathed the clean air.
"This is Alderaan, Sarolyn. This is where you were born."
There was a knock, a gentle tapping that wrested Sarolyn clear of her thoughts. She turned to the entrance and could feel a benevolent presence behind the door.
"Come in," she said in a small, sad voice.
The door slid open and Vima-Da-Boda scuttled into the room. She knelt down beside Sarolyn and sat with her, the two women contemplating the loss of their Master in respectful silence.
Vima had been Bil-Kit’s first, and only other, Padawan learner. He had taken her on soon after his return from Tatooine, and had earned the rank of Master when she successfully completed her Trials and became a fully qualified Jedi Knight.
Sarolyn’s uncertainty about her future still nagged her from the back of her mind. Her attempt at meditation had merely masked the fear, not eradicated it. She could feel her body trembling from within; a fidgety jumpiness as the adrenalin coursed through her bloodstream.
"I can’t do it, Vima," said Sarolyn sadly as she stared at the floor. "I can’t face the Trials alone."
Vima smiled at Sarolyn. Bil-Kit will always be with us," she said gently, trying to comfort her young friend.
Sarolyn sniffed. "It’s my fault he died," said Sarolyn as tears welled up in her eyes. "If I hadn’t argued with him..." She trailed off, overcome with grief.
"Don’t upset yourself, love," said Vima. "He wasn’t angry with you at all. He loved you very much, and still does. He gave his life so you could escape."
Sarolyn’s heart seemed to plummet. This news was too much for her to take. Tears streaming down her cheeks, she jumped to her feet and rushed towards the door.
"Sarolyn?’ said Vima with concern. "Where are you going?"
Sarolyn opened the door and ran out into the corridor. Vima, worried for her young friend, followed her.
"Sarolyn," soothed Vima as she held the girl’s arm, "please don’t give in to despair. You are strong." Vima looked up into Sarolyn’s soft, doe eyes. "You must face your loss...our loss..." Vima trailed off and stared at the floor. The death of Bil-Kit Jinn saddened her, too, but she consoled herself that her former Master was now one with the Force. She returned her gaze and smiled. "Remember, Sarolyn. There’s no death. There’s the Force."
"I’m sorry, Vima," conceded Sarolyn. "I just need some time to myself." She twirled her braid. "I don’t know what’s going to happen to me."
"Trust your feelings, my child," said Vima with encouragement. "You’re strong and our Master knew it. The Force will always be with you."
Sarolyn decided to bring her fear out into the open. "What will the Council do?"
Vima closed her eyes and concentrated, taking a deep breath as she gazed into the infinite complexities of the Force. "It’s difficult to see," she said, "but they’ll want to see you in the morning." Vima smiled as she turned to leave. "I’m sure everything will be all right."
"Thank you, Vima," said Sarolyn sincerely. "May the Force be with you."
Sarolyn returned to her tiny flat and settled down on her sleeping mat. She was deeply missing Bil-Kit, and despite Vima’s reassurance, apprehensive of any decision the Council might make regarding her place in the Jedi Order.
Sarolyn tried to see into her future, but the Force seemed unyielding, as if something was being hidden. This disturbed her, for she could sense that the Trials would be soon. She felt unready.
Sarolyn decided to go for a walk. The walls of the apartment were closing in on her and she needed space. As she walked the darkened corridors, all she could hear were her footsteps as they echoed around her. It was night and the Jedi Temple was asleep.
The silence seemed to congeal as Sarolyn roamed the passageways, which, by day, were alive with Masters, Knights and students as they went about their work. The rest of Coruscant might be awake around the clock, but here, night was seen as a time for personal contemplation of the previous day’s events.
Sarolyn was now deep in the bowels of the Temple, visiting parts of the mammoth building that were previously uncharted to her. There was no signage in the Temple. There was no reason for signage as the Jedi were guided by the Force.
Crying could be heard in the distance. Straining to hear the faint sounds of distress, Sarolyn picked up her pace and half-ran to its source. She was very close to the Children’s Dormitories where younglings who were still to be chosen as Padawans slept under the care of the House Masters. Sarolyn herself had spent her early childhood here, constantly taunted by the twisted Japhta Fett. She had quickly learnt to ignore her rival’s bullying.
Sitting in a bend in the corridor, curled up in the corner, was a very young Cerean boy, no more than four years of age. His little body shook with sobs, and his cherubic face was buried in his arms. Sarolyn rushed over to the distraught child and cradled him, hushing him and stroking his high-domed head. The boy quietened down and leant on her chest.
"Shh," soothed Sarolyn. "Don’t be sad, little Ki."
Ki-Adi-Mundi looked up at Sarolyn’s kind, gentle face and she held him close, kissing the top of his head.
"I want to go home," said Ki in a small, sad voice. The young boy had been at the Temple for only a few days, and was considered old for a new initiate.
"You’re a very special boy," said Sarolyn softly as she picked him up and carried him towards a high balcony. "The Dark Woman knew it to be true. That’s why she brought you here."
Ki-Adi-Mundi sniffed sadly. "I want my dad," he moaned dejectedly.
The mysterious Jedi Master known only as the Dark Woman had discovered the young Ki whilst on a routine mission to his homeworld. Apparently, the Dark Woman had caused quite a lot of heartache within the Mundi family when she took away their only son.
Sarolyn smiled at Ki and wiped his eyes as she carried him outside. She held him tightly as the wind whipped at her cloak, causing it to billow wildly.
"He’s with you all the time, my darling," said Sarolyn as she ran her soft, slender hand across his brow. "When you relax your mind, little one, you can hear him talking to you through the Force."
Coruscant’s full moons shone in the bright night sky like four dinner-plates, their apparent sizes increased by the clouds and traffic that crossed their washed-out discs. Sarolyn stood on the balcony with Ki-Adi-Mundi in her arms as she gazed up at the moons. She thought fondly of her slain Master and hoped that he was at peace. Sarolyn hugged little Ki tightly to protect him from the wind.
"Can you see the moons, darling?" said Sarolyn tenderly. "Don’t they look beautiful?" There was no answer from the little boy. Sarolyn looked down at him and stroked his face. She smiled, for Ki-Adi-Mundi had fallen asleep in her arms.
* * *
In his luxury penthouse apartment, Darth Rakshas stared out at the dark pyramid of the Jedi Temple, a distant silhouette set against the city lights. He could feel the presence of the hundreds upon thousands of Jedi Knights, and he grimaced in distaste at the thought of them; pointless do-gooders who would soon be destroyed once his plan was complete.
Rakshas turned from the balcony and shuffled purposefully back into the darkened Meditation Room, whose walls flickered in the candlelight that surrounded the central mandala onto which he knelt. He stared into a small, crystalline mirror and focused his thoughts, allowing his subconscious to connect with that of his Hand.
Japhta Fett’s intense, hazel eyes formed within the glass, and he was aware of her soft voice whispering in his ears.
Everything on Sorensia is under control, My Lord, said the dreamlike vision of Japhta Fett. The protesters have been subdued and production will resume.
"Good-good" said Rakshas as he sat, cross-legged on the mandala. "What about the Jedi? Are they still on the planet?"
The old one’s dead. He was weak, a pushover, but the other one escaped.
Darth Rakshas stopped and considered the two Jedi who had been assigned to Sorensia as observers by the Council. "Yes," he mused. "The old man’s Padawan." Rakshas frowned. "She is of no consequence, my love. I’ll see to it that the Jedi Council keep their noses out of our business in future." He smiled. "I’m missing you, Japhta," he said; his discreet, unemotional voice surrendering to the tones of love. "Come home to your reward."
* * *
Deep inside the Jedi Temple, Sarolyn made her way to the Jedi Workshop. She knew exactly where to go, for she had spent many happy hours there with Bil-Kit. The Workshop was vast, and filled with rows of benches where students were taught the skills needed to design and build the formal weapon of a Jedi Knight.
All Jedi were expected to be able to construct their own lightsabre, and Sarolyn’s own weapon has been crafted by hand in this very room. She sat at one of the hundreds of benches, thinking of the times she had spent here with her Master as they conserved millennia-old artefacts from the Museum.
"Precision’s a valuable virtue for a Jedi, young Sarolyn," Bil-Kit used to say as they repaired yet another timepiece. "You won’t need the microscope. Let the Force guide your hands. Concentrate on nothing else but the object on the bench and the tool in your hand. Forget about me and everything else around you."
In a short while, Sarolyn’s mechanically driven wristwatch was working perfectly, keeping time as accurately as it did decades before when built by Bil-Kit Jinn during his own Padawan apprenticeship. Sarolyn gazed at her left wrist. That same watch was still ticking away the hours, a gift to her from Bil-Kit to mark her thirteenth birthday. A gift she would treasure for the rest of her life.
Sarolyn was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she failed to notice a small, wizened figure watching her with interest. She turned around with a start to see Yoda perched upon a bench behind her, standing still as if he were a statue. His eyes were closed in deep contemplation as he slowly traced a figure-of-eight on the top of the bench with his walking-stick.
"Hmmm," he sighed. "Watching you I have been."
Sarolyn felt embarrassed and slightly guilty at being caught out by this most learned of Jedi Masters. "Sorry, Master Yoda. I didn’t see you."
Yoda opened his eyes and leant forward on his stick. "All seeing a Jedi must be," he admonished in his gravelly voice. "Blindness you need not."
Sarolyn bowed her head. "Sorry, Master," she conceded sadly.
Yoda reached over and prodded Sarolyn with his walking-stick. He wrinkled up his face and stared into her eyes. "Why you not sleep, hmm?"
"Master Bil-Kit has gone."
Yoda stared at the ceiling and closed his eyes. "Hmmm," he confirmed. "One with the Force he is." Yoda fidgeted on the bench, his green, tridactyl feet shuffling to a more comfortable posture as he returned his gaze. He looked hard at Sarolyn. "Gave his life to save his Padawan, he did."
Sarolyn averted her gaze, looking down at Yoda’s toes. "Yes, Master," she said quietly. "I know.’"
Yoda’s eyes softened their expression, for he could sense the anguish flowing through the young girl before him. He smiled kindly. "Miss him you do."
Sarolyn looked away from Yoda and twirled her braid. Tears filled her eyes at the thought of her murdered Master. "I..." she began, before trailing off. Sarolyn started to cry.
Yoda reached out and put a small, clawed hand on her arm. "Much fear and sadness I sense in you, but solve things emotion will not." His voice became soft, almost pleading with Sarolyn. "Unlearn this you must, young Sarolyn, if pass the Trials you will."
"Yes, Master," said Sarolyn as she wiped her eyes.
Yoda clambered stiffly down from the bench and hobbled towards the door. "Sleep you must," he said as he shuffled towards the corridor outside. "Discuss this further in the morning we will."
Sarolyn followed Yoda out from the Workshop, where he turned direction and hobbled away, leaving Sarolyn alone once again. She tiptoed quietly along the darkened corridors, heading back to the tiny flat that she had once shared with Bil-Kit.
Sarolyn entered a long, wide passageway. As she turned the corner, she caught sight of a large, bony-flanked beast, lumbering away towards the staircase at the far end of the passage. The creature turned its heavy, crested head and stared mournfully at her before disappearing up the stairs.
Confused and startled, Sarolyn rushed after it, but when she entered the corridor along which the animal had just turned, she suddenly felt cold. The creature had vanished without trace.
After a few minutes of confusion, Sarolyn found herself standing outside the door to her apartment. Shaking from the shock of the strange apparition, she cautiously entered.
The flat was still empty, and Sarolyn was tired. Who, or what, was this creature, and where did it go? Sarolyn was puzzled. She had never before seen a beast like it; almost a cross between a dewback and a bantha, but there were so many different life forms in the Temple; all serving the Jedi Order for the preservation of peace and justice. The bantha-dewback creature had looked at her and it seemed sad, as if it were seeking help. As Sarolyn fell asleep, she had a sensation that she would encounter it again.
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