Star Wars: Fate of the Jedi: Outcast

by Aaron Allston

  Ben went a few minutes against Chara, staff against staff. Chara was still far more experienced with the weapon, but Ben was able to defend himself longer and get in more good blows than when he'd first faced Charsae Saal.

  Next, Ithia took the combat ring against Chara. They were obviously opponents of many years' acquaintance, for Ithia immediately matched her combat style to Chara's. Ithia was more fluid and evasive, Chara more aggressive and direct; the contrast was a pretty one, and Ben enjoyed watching the proceedings.

  Luke spoke to the young Kel Dor observing the sparring. “I'm Luke Skywalker.”

  The youth glanced at him, uncomfortable. “I am Wyss.”

  “You're younger than most of the Kel Dor here.”

  Wyss nodded, his attention back on Ithia and Chara. He unconsciously leaned away from Luke as if hoping the man would just leave him alone.

  “Will you be training?”

  Wyss shook his head. “I am not a sage. I am a servant.”

  “But you could still learn. You're obviously interested.”

  “‘As in life, so in death.’”

  That statement, so obviously a quote, so evidently a tolerated rather than a welcome philosophy if Wyss's tone was any indication, drew Ben's attention. He turned to watch his father and the Kel Dor.

  Luke frowned. “What does that mean?”

  “It means that in death, you should be content with preserving the skills you had in life, but should not worry about acquiring new ones.”

  “That's the custom here?”

  Wyss nodded again.

  Luke turned away from the boy, obviously deliberating what he had just heard. Ben returned his attention to the practice.

  Ultimately, Chara won each of his three matches against Ithia. When they were done, Ithia laughed. “I am out of practice, Charsae—Chara.”

  Chara gave her what, among the Kel Dors, must have been considered a sympathetic smile. “I think so. In the old days, you would have had at least two of those matches.” He turned to Luke. “Will you be sparring?”

  Luke shook his head. “Not today. Too sore from shoveling. Tomorrow, perhaps.”

  “I look forward to it.” Moments later, Chara and Ithia departed, headed for the sanisteam, and Wyss followed them out, leaving Luke and Ben alone.

  Ben gave his father a suspicious look. “Too sore from shoveling?”

  “Perhaps too sick of shoveling would have been more correct. Ben, they just gave us the answers we needed here.”

  “Did they? The servant, Wyss?”

  “He had one of them, and Ithia the other.” Luke stood. “I need to get word to the Hidden One. I'd like for all the Kel Dor in these caverns to be present for our renaming ceremony.”

  Ben stood. “We're choosing new names?”

  “No.”

  “Oh. That's sad. I was looking forward to being Sparky.”

  “Sounds like a name for a monkey-lizard.”

  “And you could be Grand Master Whango Mittphool.”

  “Not in this lifetime.”

  THEY GATHERED IN THE HIDDEN ONE'S THRONE CHAMBER, FOUR dozen Kel Dors and two humans. As the last of the Kel Dors, servants who operated the foundries, arrived, conversation dropped off and all Kel Dors turned toward the Hidden One on his throne.

  He gestured toward the Skywalkers, motioning them to approach. As they did, he offered them a benevolent smile. “It is with whole heart that I greet you this day. I understand that you have determined to choose new names, the better to make your way among us, the better to accept your circumstances.”

  Luke looked surprised. “I'm sorry, great one. There has been some misunderstanding. I did ask for a naming ceremony. I did refer to it as our naming ceremony, but I did not mean that Ben and I would be renaming ourselves. It is my hope that we will be renaming some—or all—of you.”

  Exclamations of surprise and disapproval filled the room then. Ben kept his face impassive, but inwardly he was smiling. Much as he liked causing trouble from time to time, it was just as much fun watching his father do it.

  The Hidden One's expression darkened. “You have wasted my time.”

  Luke shrugged. “What do the dead have except time? And admit it, as annoying as you find my words, this is the most interesting event you are going to experience all day.”

  The Hidden One sat back, clearly not amused. “And who were you going to rename first?”

  “I thought, great one, that we would start with Chara. Restore his name of Charsae Saal. He was the one most recently named. We could go in reverse order, from the newest one who joined the dead to the oldest.”

  The Hidden One sagged just a little as if dispirited. “Why are you doing this?”

  Luke abandoned all pretense at good cheer. He drew himself up straight and fixed the Hidden One with a forbidding stare. “Because you're wrong. And if you were only wronging yourself, that would not be so bad. But you are wronging every one of them as well.” His sweeping gesture took in all the assembled Kel Dors.

  “I have accepted their sacrifice as a gift to future generations. They knew what they were doing as they offered their oaths and took their new names. There is no wrongdoing.”

  “Again, you're wrong.” Luke sprang onto the Hidden One's throne platform, eliciting a gasp of outrage from some of the Baran Do. He began pacing as he talked, crossing back and forth in front of the Hidden One, addressing all the Kel Dors before the platform. “Let's answer some simple questions. The Baran Do Sages are a group who study and utilize the Force. Correct?”

  The Kel Dors looked between Luke and the Hidden One. Ben saw the Hidden One pause and then nod. One of the Baran Do toward the front of the crowd said, “Yes.”

  “And the Force is the energy of life.”

  Another Kel Dor said, “Yes.”

  Luke spared an admonishing look for the Hidden One as he passed. “Life is risk. Life is energy, vitality. Yet you have rejected these things. In rejecting them, you reject the Force. In rejecting the Force, you deprive yourself of the right to teach its ways to the living. You have brought nothing to these caverns but your own bodies, and even then, you don't have the decency to start moldering like ordinary corpses.”

  Many of the Kel Dors looked offended, including Chara. He stepped toward the platform, moving to the front of the audience. “Now you're just being insulting.”

  “Which angers you, because you're approximately still among the living.” Luke stared down at him. “The dead don't take offense, Charsae Saal.”

  “My name is Chara.”

  Luke hopped down and brushed past Chara. He walked to Ithia. “Here is a woman who used to beat you consistently in combat, Charsae Saal. Now she is no longer your match. What has happened? Has she grown feeble with age?”

  Chara shrugged. “Of course not. She does not train as much down here.”

  “Why not?”

  “There is less need.”

  “Of course there is no need.” Luke walked through the crowd; the Kel Dors stood aside to let him pass. “Thinking you're dead, knowing that you have no future, leaches all energy and hope from you. Drains your very life away. Diminishes you in the Force. How can you even feel a need?”

  Luke came to a stop in front of Wyss. “And here we have a boy who gave up his life on the surface to serve you in this place. And what do you give him besides food, water, and the opportunity to serve? Not much. No chance to learn, to improve himself, to grow. Growth is for living things. Here, it's ‘As in life, so in death.’”

  One of the Masters, a male Kel Dor even more wizened than the Hidden One, his name Burra, spoke up. “We have debated the philosophy you mention.”

  Luke turned a cheerful, if mocking, smile on Burra. “Good for you! Debate would seem to be a good thing for dead people to do. It would keep the cemeteries lively. And how did your vote turn out?”

  Burra looked uncomfortable. “Here, we do not vote.”

  “Because your lord of the dead decides everything.”


  Burra hesitated, then nodded.

  “Those of you who debated, did the majority support letting the dead learn new things?”

  “Enough.” The Hidden One rose to his feet. “This gathering is at an end. Everyone is to return to his duties.”

  “Your duty is to the living,” Luke shot back, “and you've already abandoned that. Why not abandon it for five more minutes?” He gestured toward the exit, and the blast door there slid closed. The Kel Dors already heading toward it hesitated, confused, and turned back toward the throne.

  “You want to save the Baran Do teachings,” Luke said. “A noble goal. You want to be prepared in case another purge comes. A good thing to do. Koro Ziil, do you know how the Jedi survived the last purge?”

  “That is no longer my name.”

  “Do you know?”

  “By luck, two Jedi survived. Your Masters, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Yoda.”

  “No.” Luke shook his head. “Of course, they did survive those events. But there were other Jedi and former Jedi out in the galaxy. There were resources like the Jedi Holocron. The Jedi survived because they were scattered, their knowledge disseminated throughout the galaxy. You Baran Do plan to survive by concentrating. Few of you ever leave Dorin in the first place, and your backup plan, this series of caves, is just one toxic bomb or groundquake away from extinction. I applaud your goal … but your execution is bound for inevitable failure.”

  There was muttering among the Kel Dors present. Ben had the sense that it was not the conversation of people just waking up to a fact, but among people who had voiced these objections many times before, quietly and futilely, in the face of a ruler who opposed their view.

  “And those would be lucky ways for you to die,” Luke continued. “Fast and decisive. It's more likely that most of you will just wither away. Like Ithia there.” Luke turned in a slow circle, making eye contact with as many of the Kel Dors as he could. “Who is your best fighter?”

  One said, “Ithia.” Two or three, including Ithia, said “Chara.”

  Luke nodded. “Charsae Saal, because he has decades of experience. And because, having only recently come here, he is not a listless, lifeless reflection of his former self. But he has still been fading for years. He's been preparing himself for death all that time. My bet is that he's a shadow of his former self. And that my son, his junior in experience by many, many years, can take him.”

  Ben froze, trying desperately not to look like a woodland creature caught in the spotlight beams of an oncoming speeder. Aware of numerous Kel Dors now looking at him, he offered them a scowl, a tough-guy posture.

  “And what is it that you bet?” The Hidden One was seated on his throne again. His voice was cold.

  “If Ben fails, I abandon the subject for as long as I live in these caverns.”

  “Very well.” The Hidden One waved at Chara. “Do it.”

  Chara nodded, decisive. “Yes, Master.”

  The Kel Dors drew back from the center of the chamber, leaving the area ringed by columns empty but for Chara, Ben, and Luke.

  Ben turned to his father. “You're doing it to me again,” he whispered.

  “I am, aren't I? I'm a terrible dad.” Luke gave him a reassuring smile. “You'll do fine.”

  “What if I lose?”

  “Two things. First, you'll still demonstrate to all these people just what it's like to be alive. Second, I promised that I'd abandon the subject … not that you would.”

  “Hey, you are sneaky.”

  “Besides, you won't lose. Unlike them, you have something to fight for.”

  Ben handed Luke his lightsaber.

  Luke looked at the weapon. “Are you sure?”

  “I'm not going to convince anybody of the value of life by cutting him in half. Win or lose, I'm doing it without my lightsaber.”

  Luke nodded and withdrew to the circle of pillars.

  Ithia presented Ben with a staff, a meter and a half of hardwood—gnarled, black, and polished. Then she withdrew as well.

  Ben and Chara faced each other from opposite sides of the open space.

  * * *

  Luke leaned against the nearest pillar, trying to look relaxed but feeling no more nonchalant this time than during the fight Ben had waged their first night on Dorin.

  Ben faced his opponent, features set in the neutral expression he always assumed when he didn't want anyone to know what he was thinking or feeling. Chara's eyes were on the Hidden One.

  The Hidden One looked at the two opponents, made a little expression of displeasure, and said, “Go.”

  Ben and Chara moved toward each other. When about a meter and a half separated them, they began circling.

  Chara lashed out, the lower end of his staff flashing up toward Ben's groin. Ben reacted almost too late, parrying awkwardly. Chara responded with reflexive speed, striking down at Ben's collarbone with the other end of his weapon. Ben caught that blow, too, interposing his own staff mere centimeters from his skin; the blow hammered Ben's weapon down into his flesh. It staggered him, and as he stumbled backward, Chara swept with his staff, catching Ben's ankle and hurling him to the stone.

  Ben continued the roll into a backward somersault and came up on his feet. He bounced up and down on the balls of his feet like a prizefighter anxious for action. Luke could tell that he was testing his ankle, determining how forcefully it had been struck.

  There was more than just vigor to Ben's bounce, though. Luke could feel the boy getting mad—angry with himself for being the first to fall, angry with his father for putting him in this situation, angry at the Kel Dors for forcing Luke's hand. Luke restrained himself from sending calming thoughts through the Force. This was Ben's fight, and the many Baran Do Sages present would be able to detect any interference from Luke.

  Ben and Chara came together for another exchange. This time Ben managed to get a grazing shot against Chara's bicep before the more experienced fighter struck him. Chara's riposte connected with Ben's staff, raised in an across-the-body block, and was still strong enough to take Ben off his feet.

  Again Ben rolled backward to get up, but this time Chara gestured, an exertion through the Force, and Ben's somersault continued out of control. Ben smacked up against one of the support pillars, his back and head hitting the stone hard enough to make Luke wince.

  Groggy, Ben shook his head. As Chara advanced, staff up and back for a thrusting, spearlike blow, Ben's eyes cleared and snapped into focus.

  He shoved off from the pillar, an exertion in the Force allowing him to slide forward as though the surface under him were oil instead of rough stone. Chara's thrust cracked into the pillar where his head had been. Ben's kick unloaded into Chara's gut, taking the Kel Dor clean off his feet.

  Ben bounced upright, seemingly unslowed, and Chara was up a fraction of a second later. Luke wanted to cheer. He could feel his son's emotions, feel that Ben was in control, intense but focused. Win or lose, he was fighting like a Jedi, not a furious teenager.

  Now the fight was on in earnest. The two combatants moved their staves at such speed that onlookers unused to combat could not possibly follow their movements. Theirs was a dance-like rhythm, now one of them the aggressor and driving the other back, now the other. Chara hammered again at Ben's damaged ankle, hurting it further, and Ben now limped as he moved. The next time Chara tried targeting the same injury, Ben leapt clear over the blow and swung his staff at extension, its end catching Chara full on the crown of his head, knocking the Kel Dor down.

  “Chara!” That was one of the Baran Do, a female, shouting encouragement. Another yelled, “Chara, kayamash!”

  Now Luke no longer bothered to conceal his smile. They were feeling it, these long-dead Kel Dors—feeling blood circulate through their veins, feeling adrenaline pump. Suddenly they were sports fans, rooting for a favorite son.

  Ben felt it, too. He looked around, clearly realizing that he was the outsider competing with the beloved champion. It seemed to discourage him not a bit; a
nd Luke felt the moment that the meaning of it all clicked into place in Ben's mind. Now the boy had everything: emotion, focus, and purpose. Ben returned his attention to Chara.

  Chara was up fast, but obviously woozy. Ben approached again, limping, an aggressor closing in for the decisive blow.

  Luke's attention was drawn to the Hidden One. The Kel Dor ruler was leaning forward, whispering intently to a servant, a young woman. He nodded, encouraging her to act. She moved away around the periphery of the crowd and headed toward the main exit. The blast door opened for her. Luke felt a trickle of danger, but he could not leave these events in order to follow the girl.

  Ben and Chara exchanged blows and blocks, feints and ploys at lightning speed. They circled, struck, parried, dodged, all to the percussive accompaniment of staves hammering against each other.

  Ben took a glancing blow to the side of his left knee. His riposte caught Chara in the ribs. Chara pinned him against a pillar. Ben shoved Chara clear, feinted with a staff blow, and spun into a side kick that caught Chara in the center of the chest, making an audible crack. Chara slammed to the stone again and was slow to rise.

  The chants of “Chara … Chara … Chara …” continued, but the chanters sounded more uncertain, as if not sure they should encourage their champion to take more damage.

  In the Force, Luke could feel the change. Ben, hurting from several blows, remained focused, razor-sharp. Chara was losing the will to win.

  They came together again. Ben let Chara get inside his guard and lock up his staff. It was not, as it first looked, a mistake of inexperience. Chara yanked, an attempt to disarm Ben, but Ben offered no resistance. Ben's staff went flying, but Chara stumbled backward, off balance. Ben followed, hammering Chara in the chest and stomach with a boxer's barrage of blows. As Chara tried to rally, bringing his staff up, Ben struck at the weapon itself, breaking it in two. The open-palm blow continued onward to crack against Chara's chin.

  Chara went down. This time he did not immediately struggle to rise.

  The crowd went mostly quiet. A few Kel Dors offered little groans of disappointment.