Fiach’s Jedi Trials

[Fiach Dubh]

The captain and his co-pilot were still strapped into their seats, drowsy from loss of air. In another minute, they’d have suffocated. As it was, both men were unconscious. The room felt hot. Blaster fire had ripped through the navigation terminal, and metal slag pooled everywhere. But with so little air in the room, the fire had gone out.

Fiach unbuckled the captain and moved him onto the floor. Then she looked at the control panel. There were so many lights and buttons. For a moment she was stunned, unsure what to do. So, she closed her eyes and remembered her training program back on Klatooine. The cheap flight-simulator. And she used her calmness to think of the closest match to ship she was now in.

She looked up at the view port.

Warships surrounded them. A heavy cruiser that had been refitted as a gun ship edged nearer. Its shields had to be down for it to be so close.

A red light blinked insistently on Fiach’s console. In a daze she realised that the forward proton torpedo tubes were loaded and armed. They were standard defensive gear for transports travelling in such a region. Her targeting computer was down, but she aimed for the bridge of the gun ship without it.

Her heart pounded. She was afraid of what she had to do. She also hoped the pirates wouldn’t dare fire back with their own men aboard. Because if they did fire, they’d hit with everything they had.

Reaching across the console, she launched the proton torpedoes.

 

[Fiach Dubh]

A blinding flash as bright as a solar flare lit space as the proton torpedoes struck the gun ship.

Fiach shielded her eyes from the intense light.

Half of the gun ship disintegrated, hurtling debris into space. A second blast followed the first, as the gun ship’s arsenal exploded and a huge section of the blown gun ship hurtled into a second warship.

Fiach didn’t plan to wait and see if the pirates would shoot her down. While they recovered, she hit a button, loading more torpedoes into the launch tube.

With the navigation console out, the only way to fly the ship was manually. Fiach grabbed the control, pulled back hard, and hit the thrusters. She heard the harsh sound of metal rending. Had she just ruined the engines? Quickly, she consulted the display terminals. She saw the source of the sound. Two cruisers were latched to the docking bays. By blasting off, Fiach was ripping away from the ships – tearing apart seals to the doors.

All the air by the docking bays would rush into space.

 

[Fiach Dubh]

Heavy blaster fire ripped through the hull of the old barge. One of the remaining warships had taken aim at the bridge, but with the sudden thrust of the huge ship, the blaster bolts had struck the ship behind their mark.

Fiach pushed away the thought of who might have died in the attack and reversed thrusters.

The warship’s next salvo fell short, blasting harmlessly into space. Fiach took half a moment to aim her proton torpedoes, the launched them down the warship’s gullet.

Fiach piloted the ship among the glimmering stars. Warning claxons were ringing everywhere. Monitors showed air leaks from a dozen holes.

Fiach shook her head. The ship was falling apart and they’d have to land. “But where?” Fiach asked out loud, looking ahead at nothing but empty space.

Fiach could just glimpse a planet ahead, a blue marble the colour of water, shot through with white clouds.

“I hope we can breathe the air,” Fiach said. The atmosphere might be poison, the planet might be hostile. “But it’s got to be better than breathing in a vacuum,” she added.

The great ship shuddered, and another warning monitor went off, signalling that the air pressure was dropping.

“I think that makes my mind up,” Fiach said softly.

 

[Fiach Dubh]

Fiach flew over a watery world from daylight into darkness, to a night lit by three glowing moons that hung in the sky like multicoloured stones. Beneath her, enormous creatures flew in great flocks. They were silvery in the moonlight, with long bullet-shaped bodies and powerful wings.

Clinging to the manual controls, with the ship buckling and rattling, Fiach could see only ocean in every direction. Then, at last, on the horizon ahead she glimpsed one small rocky island, waves breaking against its shore.

She aimed the ship at the rock, held tight to the controls, and groaned with effort as she attempted to slow the ship’s fall.

Fiach landed the ship only a few meters from the rocky beach. Night hung like a mist over the island. After determining that the atmosphere was stable, a dozen of the ship’s crew had gone outside to begin repairing the damage to the hull, and others were checking the surroundings.

Fiach reached the Jedi Master’s cabin just as the medic droid finished spraying a disinfectant bandage over a ghastly wound. Then he began to glue the wound closed.

“You’re lucky to be alive,’ the medic droid told the Jedi. “But your wounds should heal in time. Are you sure you don’t want something to ease the pain?”

“No, I’ll be fine,” the Jedi answered, his voice steady.

Fiach waited for him the speak or acknowledge her presence.

The Jedi’s steely gaze studied Fiach keenly for a moment. “Fiach, when you accelerated the ship, what thoughts did you have?”

“Thoughts?” Fiach asked doubtfully. “I wasn’t thinking about much of anything. I was afraid of the pirates, and I just knew I had to get away fast.”

“So, you didn’t think about the fact that you would tear the ships from the docking bays and kill hundreds of pirates in the process?” he asked in a neutral tone.

“I didn’t think that deeply about what I was doing,” Fiach replied. “The Force led me.”

“Were you frightened? Angry?”

“I…fired on the pirates. I killed, but I didn’t do it in anger. I did it to save lives.”

The Jedi Master nodded, just the smallest of movements. “I see.”

Suddenly, the captain rushed in. “Please come quickly,” he panted. “The Hutts are taking over the ship and say all on board are now their slaves.”

 

[Fiach Dubh]

The captain demanded quick action, but the Jedi Master was in no fit state to act. So Fiach reasoned with the ship’s crew.

“A Jedi knows her true enemies.”

“What do you mean?” the captain asked.

“Anger is our enemy,” Fiach said reasonably. “Greed and fear are also our enemies. And haste is another enemy.”

“And the tide is coming in,” she added, “and it may swamp the ship. The engines are all down for repair, and we won’t get them up in time. We should evacuate.”

“Evacuate to where?”

“Into the hills, higher up on the island. The I saw caves as I landed.”

Fiach knew the truth. They had gone from bad to worse. Shot down by pirates, wrecked on an alien world with the Hutts holding a gun on them all. And now they would have to abandon ship, hide in caves with limited supplies. Perhaps the pirates would come to finish them off, or maybe they’d all starve, or die fighting one another. Perhaps the tides would rise so high that they’d flood the whole island?

 

[Fiach Dubh]

Following nothing more than an instinct that she believed to be the Force, Fiach climbed the hill quickly, without tiring. But instead of ducking into the first cave where the miners had already gathered, she continued to climb, inching along a narrow ledge in order to reach the side of the mountain without being seen.

Cautiously, she inched up a ledge that no human should have been able to climb. In a pouring rain, she grasped small crevices with her fingers, barely holding on.

She knew that she had to hurry. She had spent extra time approaching from the side of the mountain, knowing she would be too easy to spot if she climbed directly up.

But at last she’d come to a point where she had to risk exposure. From now on, her path was straight up.

Her fingers were chaffed and bleeding. Nearby, lightning split the sky and thunder snarled. The sky was dark and lowering. Wind gusted and whistled among the stones.

She stopped for a long moment, panting. Rain poured down her forehead and made her clothes feel heavy.

The travel was hard. There were no trails. Not a rock on this planet had ever been crushed underfoot. If he stepped on a rock, it was likely to twist beneath her. Even if it didn’t turn, they felt sharp and painful beneath his feet. The only plants he found were small grey lichens that crusted over everything. When they were dry, walking on them was like walking on carpet. But once the morning rains began to fall, the lichens turned slick.

Though she could feel the Force guiding her, it still seemed an almost impossible task. Lightning sizzled through the air. Thunder shook the stone beneath her fingertips. Wind gusted at her back.

There was a flash just above her head and splinters of rock stung her cheek. For half a moment, she thought that a lightning bolt had nearly pierced her. But she realised that it was too small.

A blaster. Someone had shot at her!

Fiach craned her neck, and tried to look down. She spotted them immediately in the rocks below. It was difficult for a Hutt to hide.

Blaster bolts exploded all around Fiach. But there was nowhere to hide, no way to fight. So she struggled upwards.

 

[Fiach Dubh]

Behind the Hutt, there was a strange noise.

The huge creature turned to look to see that one of the even bigger winged creatures had landed so silently, he had not heard it.

It had tiny silver scales over all of its body, and huge yellow eyes like those on a fish. It had no front legs, only a single huge claw on each wing. And its mouth had the strangest teeth – like enormous needles that arced down from its gums.

The Hutt's time in this life was surely about to come to an end.

 

[Fiach Dubh]

Fiach managed the final ascent and wedged herself into the small cave. There she paused, panting for a long moment.

Seeing what she came for, Fiach examined it, altered it and finally pocketed it.

But time was of the essence. Fiach’s heart pounded as she ran three steps and leaped from the mouth of the cave, knowing that two hundred metres below, the sharp rocks stuck up like swords. Yet she trusted the Force.

She did not fall even a dozen metres. Her leap carried her straight to one of the winged creatures!

The creature was wet and slimy and she almost slipped off, but clung to its scaly hide with the tips of her fingers. Then she managed to swing her legs up and over, so that she was riding squarely on its back. The creature roared in terror. It shook its neck, trying to throw her off. It shrieked again and again, then wheeled in panic and flapped its wings, dropping toward the sea.

Fiach leaned close to the creature’s neck. Using all of the power that she could muster, she whispered, “Friend help me. Take me to the caves.”

Her mount flapped its wings and sped toward the caves. She wasn’t sure he could control the beast for long, for its small mind was cruel, and it was driven by ravenous hunger.

 

[Fiach Dubh]

The leader of the Hutts now filled the mouth of the cave that the miners and crew had assembled in. “How are you all feeling? Well, I hope,” he taunted. “Well, in case you’re not, pledge to become my slaves and I will take you from this rock and to safety.”

 

[Fiach Dubh]

Fiach fought to control the creature’s mind, bring it safely to the ground. Leaping from it, she did not look back as it shook its head before taking off for the skies. But before she could reach the mouth of the cave, the air was heavy with the sound of beating wings.

Turning, Fiach knew she had to face these creatures or else they would not stop until they’d eaten the miners.

The battle was like none Fiach had ever imagined. She felt no fear. She had accepted her death. The odds were just too great against her. Now she only fought to protect the miners. She felt no anger. She did not even hate the hungry beasts that dropped endlessly from the blackened skies.

The Force was her ally.

She could feel it moving her, moving through her, and through the winged creatures. She leaped and somersaulted. She spun and slashed through muzzles and claws. The battle became a dance of sheer survival.

As she danced, Fiach changed. She felt subtle promptings she’d never felt before. She saw attacks clearly before they came. She sensed the flail of a tail some time before it happened. The muscles of the creatures became incredible defined, so that she could read tiny flickers of movement that revealed to her which way they would turn. She gave herself entirely to the dance.

“Well done, little one!” a deep voice chortled. An enormous Hutt slithered from the shadows. He held an oversized blaster rifle.

Fiach barely had time to glance at the Hutt, for three creatures had gathered at the mouth of the cave.

“Help me!” Fiach called as she fought. It would be easy for the Hutt to shoot the creatures.

“Of course,” the Hutt chortled. “I’ll help you – to death!” He raised his blaster rifle and aimed.

The bolt shot out – but to the Hutt’s surprise, the girl must have sensed it coming, for she dodged to the side. The bolt barely missed her.

The Hutt shouted in rage and prepared to fire again. This time, he would not miss. But suddenly, he felt huge teeth rip into his tail. He had been concentrating too hard. He had forgotten to keep a lookout.

He barely had time to cry out before the creature carried him away.

 

[Fiach Dubh]

The creatures, without warning, flew away. Perhaps they had signalled some silent retreat against the tenacity and stoic defence of Fiach?

Rushing into the caves, the young Jedi bounded over the leader of the Hutts, to land in front of the miners and crew.

“Halt!” the enormous Hutt ordered. “Where are you going?”

Fiach thrust her hand in her pocket and drew out a device. The Hutt recoiled at the sight of it.

“You thought you hid this well, didn’t you?” she said, then turned to face the miners and crew.

“It’s a transponder. It was no act of luck the pirates found us. And if we’d waited any longer, they would have come here.”

“Rubbish,” the Hutt blustered. “It’s just a bit of junk.”

“Sadly, for you, I know what I’m talking about. Oh, and I changed it as soon as I discovered it. It’s still acting as a homing beacon but not for the pirates.”

There was a commotion behind the Hutt and suddenly the darkness of the cave was illuminated by glowing lights, as sabers were drawn and the Hutt’s mining compatriots arrested.

 

[Fiach Dubh]

“Come in,” Fiach called. She was cross-legged on her bed, as the ship made its way back to Ajan Kloss.

The Jedi Master entered the room. “You did well,” he said. “I felt the Force move in you.”

“It was…astonishing,” Fiach said quietly. “I thought I understood its power. But I see that I had only glimpsed a fraction of what it could do. Does that make sense?”

The Jedi nodded.

“By all accounts, you were truly brave. In the face of what must have seen insurmountable odds, you held your nerve. Others might saved themselves. But your thoughts were to protect as many innocent lives as you could and you dismissed any notion of terror. For this, and your deeds here, the Council have agreed that you’ve passed the Trial of Fear.”

 

[Fiach Dubh]

JEDI TRIAL: FOCUS

“Close your eyes. Feel it. The light…it’s always been there. It will guide you.”
– Maz Kanata

“We ought to shoot you where you stand!”

The hooded human trudged over the hill, her boots raking through the mud. “We’re here,” she said, keeping her voice firm. There wasn’t any point in apologising. Not in this place – or to these people. “Just show us where our ride is.”

The cult warriors didn’t lower their rifles. Even on this rain-drenched backwater planet, their leader insisted that his troopers shine their silvery combat suits every day. This day, the planet seemed especially intent on testing their armour. Hailstones ricocheted off them in all directions, raising such a raucous din that the first speaker – a woman in worker’s overalls – had to shout to be heard.

“You’re not where you’re supposed to be, pilot!” Stepping between the warriors, the woman flashed a hand-held light in the face of the newcomer, a young woman in her late teens. “You were supposed to be here for flight prep twenty minutes ago, greenhorn,” she yelled. “What in blazes were you doing down in the mud flats?”

“Our shuttle was damaged in the storm,” Fiach said, pointing over the hillcrest. Two similarly cloaked companions arrived behind her. “We landed where we could. What does it matter? We’re here.”

Lilac eyes squinting through the hailstorm, Fiach Dubh surveyed the surroundings. Beyond the ground crew chief and the four sentries loomed a massive, multi-gunned transport, waiting for its flight team. Identical transports were already lifting off in the distance, climbing over the towering nuclear furnaces that provided fuel for the cult’s vessels at this waystation. The flames atop the massive permacrete cones provided the only lighting for the area, forcing the ground crews to use their helmet-lights even at high noon – which it was now.

Fiach took a step toward the waiting transport, only to be blocked by the ground team leader. Shining her light at Fiach’s hands, the age-worn woman flew into a rage. “Where’s your dispatch case? You’d better not tell me you’ve come all the way here without it!”

Gunder raised her hand. “We don’t need a dispatch case.”

“You sure as blazes do, little missy! I don’t know what they’re thinking, sending younglings out here as pilots. Surely we can do better than you!”

“This isn’t right,” the scarred woman said, stepping back toward the troopers. “One less transport in the convoy won’t make any difference. Kill them.”

 

[Fiach Dubh]

The quartet of warriors raised their rifles and Fiach and her two companions leapt forward. Fiach reached the troopers first, cleaving the muzzle of the nearest warrior’s weapon in two with her lightsaber.

“What the–?” The crew chief stumbled backwards and pulled her blaster. “Jedi!”

Leaping out of her cloak, Fiach pounced, vaulting over the second warrior’s shoulders and diving for the woman. The comlink flew from the older woman’s hand, burying itself in the muck. Seeing the second sentry turning toward her, the young male Jedi thrust his lightsaber into the crew chief’s body. The woman’s cry of pain was still on the air when the attacking sentry collapsed, cut down by the Padawan known as Gunder.

Fiach looked to the right to see Ross standing over the corpses of the other two troopers. He removed his hood, raindrops spattering off his hairless cranium. Fiach quickly extinguished her lightsaber and scanned the area. The hail had turned to a cooling rain, the downpour and darkness combining to screen their melee from the massive service hangar nearly a kilometre away. Timely, she thought.

Hair dripping, Fiach knelt over the dead crew chief’s body. She closed the woman’s eyes and then stood abruptly.

For the first time, Fiach was formally in charge not of a mission, but of two of her peers. She had taken the assignment quickly, appreciating she needed to develop her leadership and also work alongside peers as a team. It was one thing to lead troopers, but another to manage fellow Padawans.

“I’m guessing she’s got what we’re looking for,” Fiach said, sorting through the items attached to the dead woman’s belt. Finding a control device, she turned to face the huge transport and pressed a button. The massive forward hatchway groaned open, revealing a yawning cargo area inside.

As their intelligence reports had suggested, the giant transport was empty, waiting for a flight crew that would never arrive. Fiach raised her comlink to her mouth. “Objective vessel secured. Influx begin. Team may approach.”

“Influx confirmed. Stand by.”

 

[Fiach Dubh]

The remainder of the team was stationed beyond the next ridge, with the wreckage of the small personnel shuttle they had intercepted during their approach. Intercepting the flight crew and arriving in their stead had gotten Fiach and her companions close enough to the transport landing zone to secure it.

The big transport would be her team’s ride for the rest of the mission. Fiach slapped the side of the cargo door as Ross dashed up the steps, headed for his intended station in the cockpit.

Standing guard at the bottom of the ramp, Fiach watched as Gunder scrunched her nose at the foul air. It was the first time she hadn’t been in motion since they left the jumping-off point.

“Fly and die for the cause,” Gunder said, looking back at the corpses. It was far from her first kill; Fiach knew that was years earlier. But she seemed troubled. “Why is anyone willing to do anything for them?”

“He’s the one in charge.”

“He’s deranged,” Gunder said.

Fiach nodded. Anyone who imagined himself the creator of the universe, with all other organics simply soulless automatons placed here (by himself, of course) for his own amusement definitely had some issues to work out. Most cult leaders did.

“What’s a dispatch case?” Gunder asked

“No idea,” Fiach said. The ground crew chief had asked them about it, earlier.

“It could be important,” Gunder said, looking back at the dead woman’s body, drenched in the mire.

“Agreed. And it could also be nothing,” Fiach said. She knew what was coming. Gunder was driven and detail-oriented – and nothing frustrated her more than a detail she hadn’t fully considered. It was part of the brief Fiach had been given about the team.

 

[Fiach Dubh]

“Are you OK, Gunder?”

“I’m fine.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t have expected anything else. You changed tactics pretty well with the crew chief back there,” she said. Gunder’s attempt at persuasion didn’t seem to have worked, but she wouldn’t hold that against her. Fiach never liked using the Force to influence others. It was just part of her makeup. “Still, it is your first mission...”

“I’m fine,” Gunder said, tromping off in the mud to watch for the arrival of the rest of the team.

 

[Fiach Dubh]

Necessary for thermal detonators and other weapons, baradium wasn’t something even a cult with credits to burn could easily trade for. The shortage of it fortunately acted as a logistical roadblock to evil ambitions. But if the intelligence reports the Jedi had recently received were true, this cult had found the largest baradium strike in more than a couple of centuries.

The operation was simple. Striking first at the transport hub, the small Jedi team would steal one of the massive ore transports. There, they would knock the baradium shipping depot offline. It wasn’t a permanent solution, but they didn’t have the luxury of waiting for one – or for more senior Jedi to be available. ‘Interdiction buys time,’ Fiach believed.

It felt strangely good to be in the field with a team. Most of them were here simply because the Order had asked.

Ross’s reasons for being here were more complicated, she knew. His was a planet that had been chewed up and spat out for its baradium deposits and he did not wish that on any other civilisation.

 

[Fiach Dubh]

“You’ve got a green lightsaber,” Ross said. “An uncommon colour among today’s Jedi. Do you aspire to become a consular?”

“No.” Gunder’s response was blunt and made Fiach smile.

“Ah.” Ross continued. “Then perhaps you honour someone from our history. Will you make me guess?”

“No, actually, I just changed that colour of its own accord.”

“Hmm.”

Visibly disappointed, Ross sniffed and returned his attention back to the control console. Gunder shook her head. Ross lived for tradition, taking comfort in it. Many did. But Gunder never had time for the trappings, trying instead to learn all the skills the Jedi could teach her as quickly as possible.

It was the better path, she thought. Learning all about history and rituals belonged to a time when the Jedi hadn’t been at war for all living memory.

 

[Fiach Dubh]

“I have a problem,” said Ross.

“What is it?” Fiach asked.

The cloak of the pilot gone, Fiach stood again in her usual Jedi robes of muted shades of brown and beige. She was also a traditionalist.

“All right, Ross,” Fiach said, following an explanation that an astrophysicist might struggle to understand, “Tell me again, without the technical part.”

“It’s bad.”

“OK, that’s not technical enough.”

“The navicomputer won’t boot up.”

“Have you tried turning it off and on again?”

“No, I mean it can’t boot up,” Ross said. He swung open the cover panel. A gaping hole existed in the device. “See here? It’s missing the activation cylinder!”

Fiach stared.

“It’s like a key,” Ross said. “Without it, this ship goes nowhere.”

It didn’t make any sense. The other transports were already leaving. This one was ready to go; it was just waiting for its flight crew. It wasn’t under repair.

It should be whole.

“Did we miss something?” Fiach said. “When we took out the flight crew, were they carrying something?”

Gunder’s eyes narrowed. The dispatch case.

 

[Fiach Dubh]

That had to be it. Gunder hadn’t been the one to shoot down the little shuttle carrying the expected flight crew, but she had entered the wreckage to retrieve their cloaks and identification badges. Weakly, she spoke up. “There was a case trapped under one of the consoles,” she said. “I thought it was a personal item.”

Ross looked back at her. “How big?”

“That big.” Swallowing, she pointed to the hole in the control console.

“Things must have changed,” Fiach said. She approached the defunct console. “Why wouldn’t they keep the activation cylinders with the ships? What are the flight crews doing carrying them?”

Gunder spoke up. “Security…clearly.”

Fiach leaned against a chair back and exhaled. “I guess it does make sense,” she said.

“It didn’t look like anything important,” Gunder said, shaking her head. “And it was stuck, after the crash.” She looked up. “But I could have gotten it out.”

“You can’t think of everything, Gunder. These things happen,” Fiach said.