by Jude Watson
THE FOLLOWERS
CHAPTER 1
The hologram flickered and the ghostly figures of Bant Eerin and her
new Jedi Master Kit Fisto appeared in the Temple map room. Qui-Gon Jinn
studied Bant's image carefully, looking directly at her silvery eyes. He
was glad to see the sensitive Mon Calamarian Padawan again. Not only was
she a good friend of his own eighteen-year-old apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi,
but ever since the death of her Master Tahl years ago, Qui-Gon found
himself feeling protective of her.
Bant and Qui-Gon had both suffered when Tahl died, and both still
felt the loss. Qui-Gon knew Bant had continued her training despite her
grief.
But she still does not seem herself, Qui-Gon thought.
Looking closer, Qui-Gon saw that there was something in Bant's eyes
that was not quite right. It wasn't the profound sadness he'd grown used to
seeing when Bant mourned at the Temple, when the pain was still fresh. This
was something else. It took Qui-Gon a second to recognize the emotion.
It was fear. Bant was afraid. The question was, of what?
"Hello Master Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan," Kit Fisto greeted the team, bowing
slightly so that some of his yellow-green head tendrils fell forward around
his shoulders. "I have heard much about you from my Padawan. I am pleased
to have the opportunity to speak with you, though I am afraid what we will
be discussing will not be pleasant"
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had been summoned by the Council the day before.
Nobody had told them why they were to meet Bant and Kit Fisto. Since Kit
Fisto was contacting them from the largely deserted planet of Korriban,
Qui-Gon had at first assumed that the task would be routine.
It only took one look at Bant's expression to know that this would
not be so.
The Sith. Qui-Gon had heard stories about the Sith since he was a
young boy. Every generation of initiates at the Temple knew Sith stories
and legends. They thrilled in telling them to one another late at night
when they should have been sleeping. Qui-Gon's generation had been no
exception.
Although the stories were terrifying enough to have kept young Qui-
Gon awake on more than a few nights, he had always felt that they were
largely invented - myths designed to scare and not inform. Even after
studying Sith history and learning that the Sith had existed and had been
powerful, Qui-Gon remained skeptical.
But his recent conversation with Jedi Master Kit Fisto forced Qui-Gon
to reexamine his beliefs about the Sith.
"Master, do you believe - " Obi-Wan hesitated.
"Do I believe in the Sith?" Qui-Gon finished his apprentice's
question before answering it. Clearly Kit Fisto's report had opened up
questions for Obi-Wan as well.
"Of course I do. You and I have both studied their history enough to
know that the Sith threat was once very real. But we also know that they
were a culture that could not survive. They killed themselves off long ago.
The question remaining is whether or not they pose a current threat." Now
it was Qui-Gon who hesitated.
"How can they pose a threat if they no longer exist?" Obi-Wan asked.
"The danger lies not in the Sith themselves, but in their teachings,
and the ability of those teachings to inspire others to evil. As long as
the Sith teachings survive, there is a potential threat."
"And if someone is spreading those teachings..." Obi-Wan trailed off.
Qui-Gon knew he must be thinking about what Kit Fisto and Bant had found on
Korriban. How could he forget the look of terror on Bant's face as she
described the horrors she and her Master had seen in the valley? Or Kit
Fisto's dark eyes as he told them about the dwelling they had found... and
its chilling contents?
Inside the crude shack were tomes of Sith lore and models of ancient
Sith weapons. It appeared that someone had been compiling every scrap of
information to be found about the Sith, both truth and myth. And scrawled
on one wall was a crude drawing of a Sith Holocron beside a message written
in Sith code. Location known. Follow the leader.
A simple Holocron was not necessarily dangerous. The crystal
information-storage devices were even used by the Jedi. Palm-sized and easy
to transport, Holocrons were an excellent way to store vast amounts of
knowledge.
But the Jedi Holocrons that Qui-Gon had seen were square. The
Holocron drawing on Korriban was pyramid-shaped, a formation unique to the
Sith. And the knowledge contained in a Sith Holocron was infinitely more
dangerous. It focused on dark power and how to gain, use, and manipulate
it.
If one existed, and if it fell into the wrong hands, a Sith Holocron
could be more than deadly.
"We have knowledge of several Sith Sects operating in the galaxy,"
Jedi Archivist Jocasta Nu reported. "We monitor them, but until now they
have never given us much cause for alarm. They've never gained large
followings, and their activities are not unlike those of other small
criminal groups. They have always been more of a nuisance than a threat."
Though it had taken him a little while to get used to working with
her, Jocasta Nu was beginning to grow on Qui-Gon. He generally did not like
to use the usual channels for obtaining information. But he'd come to
appreciate Jocasta's straightforward manner. She never failed to provide
Qui-Gon with the information he needed.
"Lately there has been increased activity at one of the higher
learning institutions right here on Coruscant," Jocasta said. "According to
our sources, this is due to a professor named Murk Lundi." She flashed an
image of the Quermian professor onto a screen.
It was not the first time Qui-Gon had heard of Professor Lundi. An
infamous galaxy historian, Lundi was popular with students and admired by
his colleagues. Qui-Gon had even heard him called one of the finest
historians of the era. But he did not understand what Lundi had to do with
the dwelling found on Korriban.
"For the past several years Lundi has been narrowing his focus,"
Jocasta explained. "Now all of his research and lectures revolve around the
dark side of the Force. As his focus has narrowed, his student following
has grown."
Jocasta pushed several student texts toward Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan.
There were posters for Sith rallies and hand-drawn story strips showing
Sith battles. "His classes are among the most popular on campus. His texts
are so sought after they are difficult for students to obtain." She paused
for a moment. "But there were several of them among the items found on
Korriban."
So that's it, Qui-Gon thought. The Council believes one of Dr.
Lundi's followers gathered the information that was found on Korriban.
Qui-Gon looked up to find Obi-Wan already gazing at him knowingly.
Neither of the Jedi needed to say a word - their next mov
e was clear.
It was time for a crash-course on the Sith.
CHAPTER 2
Obi-Wan pushed his way through the crowd of students and toward the
back of the room without worrying about being spotted. It was not hard to
lose himself in the throng.
The students on Coruscant were so varied that you would have had to
be on fire to get even a second glance. Besides, Obi-Wan and his Master
were the only ones not desperately pushing forward, trying to get a word
with Professor Lundi before class started.
From his spot against the wall, Obi-Wan could just make out the
Quermian teacher's head swaying slightly on its long neck in the middle of
the crowd. Apart from his advanced years and the small black apparatus
covering one of his eyes, Murk Lundi looked a lot like the Jedi Master
Yarael Poof. He was the same species, and had the same commanding presence.
But there was something very different about Dr. Lundi, something chilling
that Obi-Wan couldn't put his finger on.
Across the room, Qui-Gon was also watching the professor, his eyes
narrowed in steady focus. Had he noticed something else? In the din Obi-Wan
considered contacting Qui-Gon on his comlink to hear his thoughts. But at
that moment Dr. Lundi raised several of his arms, signaling that class was
about to start.
More quickly than Obi-Wan could have imagined, the hoard of students
found seats and the room fell silent. The course hall was enormous, yet
every chair was taken. Every spot to stand or lean or sit was filled by a
student, and at least a dozen hovercams recorded the professor's every word
for the students who could not fit inside the room.
Obi-Wan surveyed the crowd. Not only was the turnout impressive, but
each student sat with rapt attention. After half an hour they remained
riveted - there was no sign of drifting or feeling drowsy. Obi-Wan had
hoped to spot a few students who seemed unusually drawn in or somehow
conspicuous. As it turned out, he was the conspicuous one for looking
around while the professor was speaking.
At the front of the room, Dr. Lundi paced in the narrow space not
taken up by students. Taking small steps on his long legs, his body seemed
to float as he spoke. Every now and then he paused, clearly enjoying his
position and his ability to make the crowd hold its breath in anticipation
of his every thought.
Murk Lundi was not at all like the teachers Obi-Wan had at the
Temple. In the Temple, Obi-Wan's instructors were like partners in
learning, guides who wanted to help him discover things for himself and not
just force their own opinions.
Obi-Wan did not appreciate the learning style he was seeing today.
Yet the more he listened to Dr. Lundi, the more he wanted to hear. Soon he,
too, was waiting for the professor's next word.
"No being besides the Sith themselves has ever seen a Sith Holocron.
There are rumors. Yes. There are also drawings and legends and myths.
However, most historians believe that the Sith were so protective of their
knowledge that they destroyed it themselves before letting it fall to the
unworthy. After all, we are talking about beings who killed their Masters
when they had learned all they could from them." Lundi paused and looked at
his students with a sly smile. "Should I be nervous about graduation day?"
Then he went on.
"Some scholars contend that the Sith did not use Holocrons at all,
that they would not have been so foolish as to store so much power in a
crystal that I could hold in my hand." The professor paused, gazing at one
of his outstretched palms. "More power than this galaxy has known in a
long, long time.
"However, if there is one thing I have learned from my lifelong study
of history, it is this: Every myth is based on a small seed of truth. One
has to delve deeply to find it. But it is there, below the surface, waiting
to be discovered."
Obi-Wan was not sure how much time had passed before he forced
himself to close his eyes and bring his mind back to the task at hand. Murk
Lundi made the Sith more real than any late-night ghost story, but that was
not why Obi-Wan was here. He had to stay focused.
But by succumbing, even for a short time, Obi-Wan understood Murk
Lundi's hold over his students. Dr. Lundi's fascinating subject was made
even more so by his own intelligence and charisma. Lundi's power over the
students was impressive. And more than that, it was dangerous. Lundi's
students seemed likely to believe anything their teacher said without
question, and the way he spoke about the dark side made it sound enticing.
Could they be inspired to delve too deeply?
Obi-Wan focused once more on the students. It had to be one of them,
or someone like them, who had assembled the Sith lore on Korriban.
A small group in the first row captured Obi-Wan's attention. The four
students sat front and center, leaning forward whenever the professor
spoke.
The first, a dark-haired humanoid, nodded at the end of each of
Lundi's statements. Next to him, a redheaded boy was so riveted that he
held his hands just above his desk as if he had been about to fold them in
his lap but froze when the professor began to speak. The third boy was
transcribing every word on a datapad, in spite of the fact that he had his
own small hovercam recording the entire lecture. Last was a girl who clung
protectively to a coat and document case that Obi-Wan guessed belonged to
Dr. Lundi.
Suddenly a yellow light went on over the desk of the dark-haired boy
in the front row. Obi-Wan quickly realized that the light alerted the
professor that a student wished to ask a question.
Dr. Lundi stopped in mid-sentence. His head swiveled on its long
neck, and Obi-Wan caught an angry gleam in the Quermian's uncovered eye.
But the anger disappeared when the professor saw who had dared to interrupt
him. The humanoid boy was obviously a favorite. Dr. Lundi even called him
by name.
"Yes, Norval?" he asked.
Norval stood. "Please forgive the interruption, professor. I only
want to know if it is true that the Sith were more powerful than the Jedi."
Dr. Lundi laughed lightly, as if Norval's question was childish. "Of
course," he said. "Power and vengeance are much stronger motives than peace
could ever be. The Sith could have easily controlled the entire galaxy had
they not made their one mistake - "
Dr. Lundi was interrupted by a tone signaling the end of class.
Students sat silently in their seats, hoping the professor would
finish his thought. But Dr. Lundi was already collecting his coat and case
from the girl in the front row.
"There will be no class next week," the professor announced. The
class groaned. Lundi smiled at their disappointment. "I am taking a small
sabbatical."
Yellow lights went on over desks throughout the room.
"When I return I may have exciting information to share with you."
Dr. Lundi smirked mysteriously. "Until then, my assistant Dedra will answer
any after-class questions."
The girl who had been holding the professor's things stood at the
front of the room. Obi-Wan thought she looked overwhelmed as Dr. Lundi
moved smoothly out of the course hall followed by Norval and the redheaded
boy, who Norval called Omal. Obi-Wan noticed that the redheaded boy had
bright, sharp-looking eyes. He was clearly excited, and talked animatedly
with Norval about the lecture.
Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon exchanged a glance before they, too, made their
way toward the door and slipped out of the hall. It looked as though they
would be taking a little sabbatical of their own.
CHAPTER 3
Qui-Gon would have liked to stay and talk to the students in Dr.
Lundi's class, but the professor's surprise announcement changed
everything. Dr. Lundi was up to something, and the most important thing was
to find out what it was and where he was going.