The Thorn landed atop a small mesa hidden away from the eyes below. The group hiked across the cold rocky desert. A couple of hours later, they saw the rudimentary adobe dwellings and tattered tents of the small village. The gentle music of a flute could be heard as they got closer. The source of the melody came from a Kyuzo monk, sitting at the entrance of the hamlet. The flat wide-brimmed helmet was autochthonous to his species and covered the upper half of his face. An ODX-series protocol droid's vocabulator had been fitted to his filter mask. Tools were affixed to his layered robes. A metal staff rested against the low wall behind him.
Syrran stopped. "Can either of you sense him?"
"No." Elynn was relieved it wasn't her lack of training.
"Barely." Theleema was mystified by the phenomenon. "It's almost as if he's an illusion."
"He is solid." Syrran perceived the Kyuzo's body temperature. "And so are they."
A gang of Anomids who had ridden into town on towering long-legged blue-skinned creatures, approached the monk. The villagers grabbed their children and hurried inside their homes. The shadow of the nomad leader over him made the monk stop playing. He lifted his head to stare at the newcomer with his compound yellow eyes behind corrective lenses.
"You're the itinerant mechanic?" said the Anomid through his vocoder mask.
"Do you need anything fixed?" The Kyuzo's words translated to Galactic Basic Standard by the vocabulator in his breathing mask.
"No, but I heard that staff of yours is made out of pure beskar, is that true?"
"It is."
"That's quite an expensive possession for a simple monk. It must have cost a small fortune."
"To the person who gifted to me, I suppose."
"Then, how about if you give it to us?"
The calm Kyuzo tucked his metallic handmade flute in his robes and rose his wiry body to his nigh two meters of height. The scattered nomads readied their weapons in case he tried something foolish. The Kyuzo grabbed his staff and placed it in front of him. When the nomad leader reached for it, the monk kicked the bottom, hitting him in the groin. In a spinning blur, he beat the thug unconscious. Then he jumped over the wall to avoid the blaster fire from the gang.
Elynn moved forward. "We have to—"
"Hold on," Syrran stopped her.
The monk stuck his war helmet over the wall; it's turadium alloy served as a shield, as he expanded the limbs of his energy bow to take out three shooters. The nomads scrambled for cover. The Kyuzo began to release arrows in the general direction of his attackers. The projectiles turned in impossible angles, hitting their concealed targets.
Realizing their precarious situation, the rest of the nomads rushed the Kyuzo, in an effort to take him out at close range. The monk shot the first one with his bow before jumping over the wall parrying blaster fire with his staff. Kicking his weapon against two rushing nomads, the monk recalled his staff with his mind, and a blade of chartreuse plasma flared up from the tip of the rod. The monk proceeded to eliminate his aggressors with his lightsaber lance in an impressive display of martial arts.
"Nice shooting, pilgrim," said Theleema as the group came closer after the melee.
The monk studied the trio for a moment. "Thank you, sister. But I'm not a pilgrim; I'm just a humble Guardian of the Whills." The blade disappeared. "My name is Gorin."
"You're a little more than that." Elynn was thrilled to meet another Jedi. "Aren't you afraid of exposing yourself like that?"
"Only when there are witnesses around." Gorin rested on his staff and surveyed his fallen opponents.
"Your order protects the Temple of the Whills," Syrran said.
"That we do, brother. It's our sacred duty."
"Can you take us there?"
"Of course. I've been waiting for you."
"You have?" said a suspicious Theleema.
"I ran into a merchant at the city market; he was looking for a technician and he brought me to this village."
"Just like that?" Elynn said.
"I am one with the Force and the Force is with me. I go where it wills it. I knew there was a reason for my presence here today. Now I know why. And look, the Force even provided us with spamels." Gorin pointed at the nomads' tall mounts.
"This guy has been sitting in the sun for too long," Theleema whispered.
Riding on the animals, Gorin led the group toward the Holy City of Jedha. Syrran, Theleema, and Elynn covered their head with wraps to protect themselves from the elements, and better blend in. During their journey, they began peppering their guide with questions.
"I was part of clovoc—a team of Kyuzo mercenaries," Gorin said. "We were hired to keep the peace in Jedha City during the waning days of the Republic.
"When the Empire came to mine for kyber, they said our contract was cancelled. But the miners continued to pay us to protect them from being forcefully relocated."
"What was wrong with cutting your losses and leaving?" Theleema said.
"We're Kyuzo, sister. We were honor-bound to our duty."
"That couldn't have ended well," Syrran said.
"We put up a good fight, resisting for a few weeks, but there were too many and they had better weapons. We were butchered... myself included."
"How did you survive?" Elynn said.
"By the will of the Force, little sister." Gorin showed a blaster scar on his chest. "I woke up at the Temple of the Whills, and discovered I was being care for by the one who would become my Master. He said the Force had brought him to me and used it to heal me."
"The head of my clan could perform similar feats," said Theleema.
"Your Master is a Jedi?" Syrran said.
Gorin nodded. "He came to the Holy City, seeking sanctuary after the Great Purge. I became his Padawan, but also joined the Guardians of the Whills—which provided me with a good cover in those trying times."
"But you're too old to start training," said Elynn. "And how can you be a Padawan after training for a few years? I spent ten years at the Jedi Temple preparing for my Initiate Trials."
"I don't know, little sister. I follow what my Master says."
"What is his name?" Syrran said.
"You'll meet him at the temple."
"Is he a Kaffir?"
Gorin laughed. "Quinlan Vos? No. Interesting man, though. Do you know him?"
"He was my Master. We came looking for him."
"I can see that." Gorin saw some of Quinlan in the Pantoran's way of dress and un-Jedi-like manner.
"Do you know where I can find him?"
"He left Jedha a while ago. He was investigating the Empire's mining operation."
"What was he investigating exactly?" Elynn tried to establish the connection to the information she stole.
"He was looking for a man; a scientist. But turns out he wasn't here. Me and some friends helped him board one of the cargo shuttles. He wanted to find out where the crystals were going."
"So, that's why he sent us on this errand," Theleema aid. "Why is the Empire mining for kyber?"
"Project Celestial Power, an Imperial initiative to provide energy to systems badly affected during the war."
"That's a lot of power."
"It's a lot of devastated worlds."
"Did he happen to leave anything of his behind, his ship perhaps?" Syrran could read the memory of the object to find clues about Quinlan.
"No. He arrived on a smuggler's ship. But I know he came from Kashyyyk."
Kashyyyk? What was he doing there? Syrran thought. "Do you know why?"
"No. Sorry. That's all I know."
"Why couldn't we sense you when we first met?" Theleema said.
"It's a zama-shiwo technique I learned from my Guardian brethren."
"The martial art?" Syrran said.
"Yes. It allows the practitioner to alter their heart rate and oxygen intake to perform feats deemed supernatural by some. In this case, I used it to enter a deep meditative state, similar to death, while I played my gufunk." Gorin touched the flute tucked in his sash.
"How can you play then?" Elynn said.
"The Force does, little sister."
"The nomads said you were a mechanic too," Syrran said.
"It's how I provide for the temple. I was a promising engineer from a clan of technicians in my planet, the Shisamu. As a Jedi, I came to understand that my gift stemmed in part from a Force ability called mechu-deru, which allows me to understand machines intuitively. But my talent for fighting meant I could serve my family better as a clovoc warrior, protecting our region from political rivals."
"Why is your lightsaber's blade a yellow green?" Elynn said. "I've never seen one like that. It's pretty alpha."
"Thank you. It's the color the kyber crystals turned when I harvested it in the caverns below the Temple of the Whills."
Something dawned on Elynn. She slowed down her spamel to ride next to Syrran away from the others. "Geonosis," she whispered.
"What?" Syrran aid.
"The kyber crystal; they're taken to Geonosis. I saw it in the file I stole."
"Why? There's nothing left on that planet after war. It's desolated."
"That's what the file said. I only had time to skim it, but I saw the name of two scientists, which sadly I can't recall. One of them was involved in researching how to synthesize kyber crystals. The other had a human name and was declared missing. He's probably the one your Master is looking for."
"So, Pharos is not here then." Theleema exposed the identity of Maul's mysterious ally when the pair caught up. "What now? Grab a crystal and pick up Jarriss and a new starship?"
Syrran gave nothing away. "I want to meet with this Jedi Master and see what else I can find out about mine."
Gorin halted his spamel and pointed to the horizon. "There it is, the Holy City of Jedha."
The descending sun shone on the ancient stone walls of a city built on a high mesa. The tall pyramidal spire of the Temple of the Whills reached high into the sky as its most prominent feature, a stirring sight that had elevated the spirits of pilgrims for centuries.
Elynn, who had never been outside of Coruscant, marveled at what she beheld. "It's incredible."
"Beautiful... and deeply disturbing." Syrran watched a slew of Zeta-class cargo shuttles flying to and from the Holy City. The shriek of TIE fighters pierced the sky somewhere in the distance.
At the foot of the mesa, Gorin sold the spamels, reassuring his charges the Force would provide a means for them to return to their ship. The Kyuzo proved to be a skilled haggler. His breathing mask/vocoder allowed him to communicate in a myriad of languages. The group then proceeded up the side of the butte through a ramp carved out of the living rock.
The weathered city crammed every inch of the summit within the dense walls. A veritable collection of diverse species crowded the bustling streets. Awnings shielded merchant stalls from the sun. The deluge of sights, sounds, and scents captivated Elynn. Delighted with her fascination, Gorin served as a tour guide, pointing out some of the sights and the different religious factions visiting the city: the red-robed Disciples of the Whills; the silent Brotherhood of the Beatific Countenance, obscured by their heavy vermillion gowns; the nomadic Clan of the Toribota with their resonant, bowl helmets, and personal water distilleries; and the death-worshipping Central Isopter cult donning veils and masks reminiscent of lined cocoons.
"Guess our fates became connected a long time ago." Theleema looked at a jewelry stall as they walked behind Gorin and Elynn. "Our Masters worked together in secret for years, laying down the ground for us to administer the finishing blow. It's kind of poetic, wouldn't you agree?"
"You seem to be enjoying yourself," Syrran said.
"I know it bothers you that I know who he is, but now everyone is out in the open."
"Are we now?" Syrran didn't buy it.
"What are you afraid of, that my Master and I come after the Jedi when this is over? What do you think the Jedi will do to us once the Sith are dead? We are the ones who revealed ourselves. You know our secrets."
"It's not your secrets I worry about, as much as your intentions." Syrran stopped at a food vendor who boiled tentacled purple creatures in wide pans over a couple of circular firepit. "Can I have one, please." He gestured to make himself understood.
"Make it two." Theleema signaled.
"Anyone else? Jink?"
"Er, thanks. I'll pass." Elynn eyed the writhing tendrils with revulsion.
"I'll eat at the temple. Thank you," Gorin said.
"These streets are pretty safe." Syrran faced the direction of the Imperial patrol marching behind an TX-225 GAVw "Occupier" combat assault tank.
"That's the third I've counted," Theleema said.
"I saw a couple of probe droids too," Elynn said.
"We have to be careful," Syrran offered a tentacle to Elynn. "Are you sure you don't want any?"
"I'd rather eat a mynock." Elynn reeled back.
"They're good with Bellassan pepper sauce." Syrran slurped the tendril whole. "Maybe we can find someone who sells them."
The group arrived at the commanding temple at twilight. Pilgrims and beggars littered its long, windswept steps. Gorin gave some of the credits from the sale of the spamels to the panhandlers he encountered on the way to the main entrance. Theleema watched them with disdain as she finished her food, ignoring their pleads for alms. One of the fortunate ones, a hooded Meftian, showed particular interest in the trio accompanying the Guardian of the Whills.
"You cannot not enter." A blind monk at the top hit his staff on the stones.
"What's the problem?" Theleema became annoyed at what she perceived was the sanctimoniousness of the light side followers.
"The Force moves darkly around you."
"She's with us." Syrran stepped between them.
"I'm talking about all of you. I may be blind but I see clearly."
"What do you mean?" Elynn was surprised.
"It's alright, Chirrut," Gorin said. "The Force brought them here. My Master would like to see them."
Chirrut considered his brother's words. "These are strange times, when the universe teeters in twilight. Go ahead. May the Force grant you that which you came to seek." He moved aside.
"For the temple." Gorin placed the rest of the credits in Chirrut's hands.
The blind monk nodded.
Thick columns lined the vast nave of the temple where dozens of worshippers congregated to worship in their own particular way. The murmur of prayers in different languages echoed within the nave. The thick scent of incense pervaded the air and statues of different religious sects lined the walls. A hanging candelabra provided additional light, while the rays of the dying sun shone through the high windows.
Gorin ushered the visitors up a spiral stairway to a waiting chamber outfitted with carpets, tapestries, and plush pillows. He asked one of his brothers to bring the women some tea while they waited for Syrran, as his Master asked to speak to him in private.
"Welcome to my world," Theleema said to Elynn.
Gorin opened the wooden door for Syrran and closed it behind him. The room differed little from the one Syrran left behind. A tall triangular window let the last light of the sun in while a familiar figure sat on a large cushion with his serpentine lower body coiled under him.
"Master Syrran Qer," said the hoarse voice of a Thisspiasian. "I was wandering when the Force would bring you here." Oppo Rancisis' eyes watched him, buried in a busy tuft of white facial hair and a mane arranged in a top bun. He used the title as a polite sign of respect, not a signifier of Syrran's actual rank.
"Master Rancisis," Syrran bowed both astonished and glad to see a member of the Jedi High Council alive.
"Your eyes don't deceive you, Master Qer. Please have a seat. We have much to discuss." Rancisis waved at a cushion with his long-clawed fingers.
Syrran uncovered his eyes and obliged.
The subterfuge didn't escape the Jedi Master. "The Living Force prepared you well to thrive in these odd times. Yet, I sense it has not been without its trials."
"Master Rancisis, how did you manage to escape?" Syrran knew Rancisis had been one of the three Jedi Generals at the Siege of Saleucami, alongside Quinlan Vos and Stass Allie.
"With the help of your Master. Sadly, Master Allie wasn't so fortunate. But the How is not important; the Why is. The Force willed for us to meet in this path you travel on."
"You know what I'm about to do?"
"I've seen where you're heading, not how the journey ends."
"And you approve?" Syrran doubted this.
"It doesn't matter what I think, only that I follow the design of the Force."
I've heard that before, Syrran thought. "Quinlan was here."
"He treks a dark path of his own."
"This was his too. That's why I'm here."
"Was it? Then why are you the traveler?"
"I was hoping to find the answer here."
"There are answers to be found in Jedha, but not to this. Perhaps something that has been on your mind for a quite a while?"
"The Chosen One... how can the High Council have been so wrong?"
"Ah, yes..." Rancisis caressed his long beard. He had expected the very question from him. "You of all people should know that the ways of the Force can defy the staunchest logic. Just because we can understand something—or see beyond what is obvious—doesn't mean it's erroneous."
"Skywalker didn't bring balance to the Force; he betrayed us. How many of us fell to his lightsaber that night? All the younglings he slaughtered?" Syrran's voice came close to expressing unusual emotion.
"I had my reservations regarding Anakin Skywalker's admission into the Order. It was my belief he could become a threat to us. Regardless, things can only be understood when we're ready to learn them. The greatest truth can be ignored, misinterpreted, even hurt you. The Council put their trust in the will of the Force."
"The same Force they failed to use to uncover Darth Sidious."
"Cynicism is the void left by an ideal, Master Qer. It doesn't become someone of your keen intellect."
"We both know the Jedi Order had lost its way long before that, mired by unreasonable dogma, and fooled by its blind obedience to a corrupt Republic. I wasn't the only one who saw this."
"Yes. I hear Qui-Gon Jinn and his Master, Dooku, in your words. But be careful. Don't let your disdain for the Jedi Order taint your view of the Force. Jedi and Sith manifest the duality of the universe, and our conflict maintains the balance. Ambivalence is a luxury only those closed off to the Force can afford."
"Well, the struggle will have to wait. Quinlan had me join forces with Maul, who's behind Crimson Dawn. His apprentice travels with me."
"Yes, the Force is quite strong in her." Rancisis stroke his beard. "I felt her presence when you arrived on the planet. And I sense she's not the only one."
"No. We rescued a former Initiate from the Inquisitors. Her name is Elynn Threel. Do you remember her?" Every Jedi had to be presented to the High Council.
Rancisis drew a heartfelt smiled. "How can I forget? She was brilliant youngling with great potential found in Canto Bight by the late Master Sifo-Dyas. Seems like the Force is not a stranger to irony."
"Indeed. Her would-be Master, Kit Fisto, was killed by Darth Sidious the night she accepted to be his Padawan."
"And now she travels with her brother's apprentice. The Force does weave curious and intricate patterns. Did you take her as your Padawan?"
"I'd like to. But considering the odds of our mission, it would be cruel to make such a commitment."
"Do not make the mistake of thinking you know the will of the Force, Master Qer. A Jedi follows its deigns as best they can but to decipher it, is impossible. The Force has bought you together for a reason—all of you. You should be more mindful of the Living Force, rather than focusing solely on the future, or in your case, the past."
"And knowing what you do about me, you're not afraid I'll lead her astray?"
"I trust that very concern will keep you from doing so. Now tell me about this unrest I sense in you."
Syrran had long ceased being surprised by the insight of a Jedi Master. "I've been having a recurrent vision. The images are unclear, but the feelings have gotten stronger. I'm walking in a dark mist when I see a dim light in the distance. I can never get close to it. Then a dark figure appears, both great and terrible, and somehow familiar. I try to fight it off with my lightsabers, but the shadow grows larger, more powerful, and begins to draw everything to it, much like a blackhole. The only things left are feelings of fright, agony, and aguish."
"When did you first start experiencing this vision?"
"Must have been around the same time Quinlan was here."
Rancisis caressed his beard. "Hmm... so, it could be connected to your mission. Perhaps it's trying to show you the course of action you must take."
"Nothing I do seems to make a difference."
"Maybe you're looking at it the wrong way."
Just then, Elynn entered the room after Gorin, heeding his Master's telepathic request to bid her enter.
The Theelin became stunned when she saw the Thisspiasian. "Master Rancisis?"
The Rancisis' eyes projected a warmth which was lacking moments before. "Young Threel, seeing you alive and well fills my heart with joy. Look at you, you're no longer the youngling I used to see working at the temple's library. Come, child. Make yourself comfortable."
"Master, this is wonderful. Are there others from the High Council still alive?" Elynn sat on the cushion next to Syrran.
"I'm afraid you know more surviving Jedi than I do, child. Your path in the Force has met with many great obstacles."
"But I never turned away from it, Master. I practice what I learned, sought out alternative forms of training, I continued following the Jedi Code, and I've been helping resistant groups across the galaxy with my slicing skills."
Pleased, Rancisis smiled. "And that is why Master Qer has something to tell you."
"Elynn," Syrran said, "I would like to be your Master."
"You do?" Elynn was confused by his sudden change of heart. "But why now? Why not before?"
"Just because he's a Jedi Knight doesn't mean he's above learning," Rancisis said. "Syrran failed to make the offer before, believing he was protecting you from a terrible fate due to your mission. Now he knows the real tragedy is not to face your common destiny a Master and apprentice."
"Do you agree with our mission?"
"I no longer hold any authority over the action of Jedi. The Force has given you this challenge. How you go about it is up to you. I can only play the role the Force assigned me, just like you."
"Then, I accept. I would love to be your Padawan, Master Qer."
"Call me, Sy. And the honor is mine."
"Well, it seems there's only one thing left to do." Rancisis was satisfied with the outcome.
"Master?" Gorin opened the door, answering his Master's telepathic message.
"Yes, Gorin. Please, let our guest in. You can come in too."
"It's good to meet a Jedi who's not afraid." Theleema strutted into the room.
"Why would the day be afraid of the night? Everyone who follows the Force is welcome at this temple. I am Mater Oppo Rancisis."
"Theleema Nosche."
"A Nightsister."
"A Witch of Dathomir."
"It was a terrible thing what happened to your clan. My condolences."
"We all made our choices. Sadly, only Sidious made the right ones."
"Please, have a seat. How's your Master?" Rancisis comment had no facetious intent.
Theleema took it as a veiled threat. "Eager to see our enemies destroyed. And I would rather stand. Are you going to give us the kyber crystal we need? We don't have much time."
"I didn't know you required one."
"Then what have you been blabbering about all this time?"
"Regardless of the abomination being committed by the Empire on this planet, a kyber crystal cannot truly be taken; they actually choose who finds them."
"Then how can we make them choose?"
Theleema's impatience made Elynn and Syrran feel awkward. Regardless, Rancisis remained calm and cordial. "You can feel them, can't you?"
"Yes. This place is like an antenna."
"That's not what I asked, though. Your clan was known for their connection to the land."
"To our planet."
"What's the difference? They're all manifestations of the Living Force."
Theleema regarded the Jedi Master with disdain, but decided to humor him for the sake of expediency. Stretching out her feelings through the Force, she connected with the presence pulsating from the bowels of the temple. Her consciousness drifted toward it, fighting the urge to flee from the discomfort produced by the light side. Incredible power emanated from the earth's crust. Theleema felt both filled by and blended with it. The whispers of infinite voices, manifesting as glimmers, surrounded her. Theleema had been swept by the crystal's gentle flow. Then a stab of pain shattered her being. Something dark scarred and voided her soul; something unnatural and mechanic violated the planet, causing it great pain. Anger and the need for retaliation surged through her. But the kyber crystals yanked her away.
Disoriented for a moment, Theleema came to in an underground chamber ringed by four slab gates. Seals, she recognized as ancient representations of the light and dark sides of the Force, shone blue and red on two doors. A third one in the middle dragged open, pulling Theleema inside.
Acting on reflex, Theleema reached for her lightsaber on the back of her belt and pressed it under Syrran's chin as she regained consciousness.
"Easy there," Syrran held her in his arms, preventing Theleema from falling.
"Are you alright?" Elynn was standing next to him.
"What kind of Jedi trickery is this?" Theleema pulled away from Syrran.
"You have considerable power, Lady Nosche," Rancisis crossed his four arms. "Your consciousness merged with Jedha's Living Force. What did you see?"
"My mind merged with the kyber crystals growing inside the planet." Theleema strapped her lightsaber to the back of her belt. "I even felt the pain caused by the Empire's mining. Then I found myself in a chamber in the tunnels below the temple with three doors. Two of them were marked by each side of the Force. The gate in the middle was open."
"Looks like the crystals answered your question. Three doors, three Force-users, three fates linked together. This is how you'll find the one you seek."