Chapter Text
Ten Thousand Years Before The Battle of Yavin:-
Breathe.
The galaxy is chaos.
But the warrior is still.
So focus.
Quieten your mind.
And breathe.
A few years before the Chosen One:-
“… And inhale”
“Master, I-”
“I don’t seem to recall telling you to exhale, did I?”
“Apologies Master”
“None needed. This is part of the lesson, my young padawan. A Jedi’s mind must be still. Free from the chaos of emotion. So let’s try this again, shall we?”
“Yes, Master!”
“Very well then...and breathe ”
A year after a Son found his Father:-
“Now. You remember what we’re doing here ?”
“Yes Kan- Yes Master”
“It’s okay to be nervous, I was the same. Just trust your instincts. Now, I’m going to count down, you’re going to try and breathe with the count, think you can do that?”
“I .. I’ll try”
“Now now, what do we say about trying?’
“Please no, not again, please don’t quote Master Yoda again”
“I can and I will, I had to deal with it for years at the temple, now it’s your turn…”
“Master?”
“Grab your pack, we need to go”
“Kriffing troopers again?”
“Aye. Comm the others and see if they haven’t spotted us yet.”
“Right. Does that mean training is done for the day?”
“Nonsense. What better way for you to learn than in action? Remember what I said, inhale and…. breathe. ”
A Thousand years since a Father found a Son:-
“This last part is a little treacherous so watch your step and breath-”
“Not sure how that’s supposed to help Greezer!” yelled Ark as a rock the size of his head broke away and tumbled down the cliffs and into the deep blue below. He had just walked past it. A second too early and-
“Youngling Ark, what are you doing over there? DT-0, report at once!”
Dank ferrik.
Brushing hair away from his eyes and the swirling winds, Ark grabbed the outcropping above him and clambered back onto the green tufted grass. A quick set of pats to get any dirt off of his robes and hopefully he could explain his way out of this one. Speaking of which.
“Greezer, you better not tell on me, or I’ll tell Master Taa that you’ve been gambling with the Jawas again!”
His cohort’s teaching droid sputtered, “Ark, a Jedi shouldn’t be making threats like that. Besides, I have to, you did expressly ignore instructions. I am sorry, but I must report you to Master Novastar if she asks me a direct question,” before turning away. Greezer used to once be covered in glittering pewter like others of his make, but decades spent as the minder to dozens of excitable initiates and padawans had taken their toll. Now most of his plates were dinged up and resplendent in a thousand scorch marks. Delicate, soft white light spilled out from his joints as he hovered to stay in position, nervously shifting his appendages into different, fluid shapes.
“It’s alright, I had to ask,” said Ark, pausing to pat Greezer on the head. It wasn’t the DT droid’s fault, Ark had been the one who had dragged him away to go exploring. He’d known it would have been a long shot to keep that information from getting out somehow.
One beat. Two beats. Three beats as Master Novastar called over someone to watch the rest of Ark’s cohort and then turned their way again.
“How did you know in the first place?” whispered Greezer, the old droid hovering down next to him as he did so. Ark shrugged.
“You’ve been sneaking out of the quarters again?”
With a quick grin, just enough for Greezer to wonder if he’d guessed right, Ark turned back in time to face Master Jayda Novastar-fearsome Jedi Knight, Guardian of Temple of Tython, and his guide for this trip to the middle of nowhere- glaring daggers at him.
“Youngling Ark, explain yourself. Why are you not with the rest of your clan?” she said, crossing her arms. But before he could reply, she lifted a palm and turned to Greezer, “Manda, never mind. DT-0, present a field report. Now.”
To Greezer’s credit, the droid did try to make it seem as if Ark had just wandered off by accident ( Hey, he’s a youngling, it’s what they do. It’s not that unbelievable ). For a brief flickering second, he thought he was going to get out of this one. But then-
“Thusly, you see Master Novastar, young Ark here could never have gone near the cave if he-,”
“Cave?!”
Oh no. Ark knew that tone. That was the tone that adults took when they heard that Ark had done something they didn’t approve of. For instance, the time he’d accidentally fallen asleep in a transport ship and found himself in the middle of Ryloth ( In his defense, if Master Gruuvgouaddoodrrl didn’t want him to end up half a galaxy away, she should consider not holding meditation classes at dawn. Mornings always left him sleepy )
Though why one of the Knights would be afraid of that dank cave was beyond him, just a bunch of weird walls and one of those little critters running about was all he’d seen. Then again, adults were strange like that sometimes, always keeping their lightsabers sheathed and liking their speeches ( He swore that if he did ever become a Knight, he was gonna go on adventures with his saber all the time like the Knights of Old had done.)
In the meantime, Master Novastar had grabbed him by the hand and pushed past the crowds. Ark could only swivel, twisting and turning to take it all in. He’d never seen so many Jedi gathered in one tiny place, so many robes, sabers, droids, and just.. people. Masters met Masters, and they, in turn, met their own Masters, whose faces crinkled with joy and eyes glittered as they wiped out an old anecdote. Padawans sat around, each working on a series of complicated puzzles that they had been assigned as Knights slapped each other on the back and reminisced about how they’d once been in the same situation. Droids whizzed around and burst into excited beeps and boops whenever they caught sight of an old friend, with an army of winged critters hopping onto whichever one seemed most enthusiastic.
Near the same cliffs that Ark had tried to clamber down, Monks sat in silent clumps, fishing & sipping on broth simultaneously. He liked the monks, they didn’t talk all that much ( something about contemplating the Living Force or whatever ) but they didn’t seem to mind having him poking around and when they did speak, they told the most fascinating stories. To their opposite, a clump of grey, squat buildings that looked like the heads of Bluurgs to him from here. There, the rest of the younglings were gathered and doing exercises under the eyes of a handful of rotating Jedi. Ark could even see his clan ( Go Hawk-Bats! ) towards the far end, trying to stay awake as Floater ( Greezer’s cousin who wouldn’t know fun if it hit him in the optical sensor ) rambled on about something.
And they wondered why he went adventuring. Who would want to be near that?
“Youngling Ark, are you alright?”
“Yes, Mast- wait where am I,” said Ark, noticing they weren’t outside anymore. A craggy cave ceiling now loomed above him, uneven tiles with twisting & turning murals all around, faint in the darkness but lit by the single shaft of clear light that poured through a triangular opening. And in the middle, a small pool of water. There seemed to be something in it, but he couldn’t make it out from here.
Someone sighed to his right, and he turned to see Master Novastar shaking her head. “You see what I am talking about? He’s been like this all the way over. And,” her arms now flailing akimbo as she seemed to be addressing someone behind him, “He’s been near the cave. A youngling already drawn to that. What do we do, Master?”
Whoa, Ark thought. Master Novastar was one of the most senior knights back at Tython, whoever her Master was had to be a really important adult. Force, he was going to get a big lecture wasn’t he?
“Jayda. I understand your concerns, and I will handle it. Rest assured, the youngling seems perfectly alright from his little sojourn. It happens, it’s not like you didn’t cause your fair share of trouble-”
“But that- what I meant was- that was years ago, and I did extend an official letter of apology when I visited New Alderaan-”( Ark made sure to remember that, he should ask Greezer if he could tell him what that was, there was a story there surely. )
“Exactly. Years ago. As I said, we have all been there. After all, the will of the Force has a sense of humor, doesn’t it? Now, if I can have a word with young Ark?”
A reluctant grumble, a stiff nod, and a quick swish of cloth later, Master Novastar was gone, leaving Ark in silence next to this mysterious Jedi master sitting on a stool. For a moment, all was still. So Ark wandered over and started to poke around the stones next to the pool of water, if he was going to get lectured to, might as well find a nice smooth rock to play with.
“Mind if I join you?”
Ark shrugged, as long as he got final dibs on the rock, who was he to tell someone not to find their own? He felt the Master drop next to him and then the rustle of another pair of hands rummaging around. Reaching for a particularly interesting stone, Ark noticed now that he was closer to the pool, that he could make out the strange shape within it. It was a mosaic, carefully assembled with twined black-and-white tiles, revealing the stoic face of an old warrior bearing forth a lightsaber in meditation. The Force seemed to glide around it, swirling and looping like a gentle sea breeze. Ark had only seen it do that before with the oldest murals on Tython. He’d always wondered why that was the case. Maybe that’s how older Jedi said hello to the Force. Maybe he’d get to make one too when he got older and did his trials.
They both worked away in silence for the next while, occasionally pausing as the old Master seemed to take a swig of water and Ark got distracted trying to pet one of the small porgs that had wandered in. Then,
“Have you ever heard of the Tragedy of Luke Skywalker, the Kind?”
Ark paused and then shook his head. He hoped that this meant he was gonna get a story, those were the best lectures, the ones where he could ignore the boring responsibility mumbo-jumbo and get to the action!
“Well. It all started on a planet with twin suns, long long ago…”
A Thousand Years and One hour after a Sister found a Brother:-
“With his mind thus concentrated, purified, and bright, unblemished, free from defects, pliant, malleable, steady, and attained to imperturbability, the Jedi directs and inclines it to creating a mind-made body ... He appears. He vanishes. He goes unimpeded through walls, ramparts, and mountains as if through space. He dives in and out of the galaxy as if it were water. He walks on water without sinking as if it were dry land. Sitting cross-legged he flies through the air like a winged bird. The candle is blown out. Thus did Luke Skywalker pass into the Force, a life quenched to save those who he loved a galaxy away, one last time.”
“On this rock right here?”
“On that very rock indeed youngling,” said the bearded master, cocking an eyebrow as he slowly slid a game piece up a square. They had shifted to a small table as the story had gone on, and were in the midst of a very intense game of Shah-tezh when the tale had come to a close ( Ark was winning. He thinks. He doesn’t know the rules but he has much more rocks so he doesn’t mind)
Ark had so many questions but where to begin? What was a C-3PO? Did Clones make music? Why were there so many Republics? Why did so many people keep landing on Tatooine? Should he even ask?
“Your mind seems abuzz little one.”
“Uh- No it’s not.”
The Master seemed to let out a laugh at that, his robes swishing away to reveal a metallic pauldron upon his shoulder. Leaning forward, he seemed to look right into Ark’s eyes.
“Go on, ask me whatever you want. We storytellers enjoy hearing our audience twist themselves up on our tales. So, what knotty thread has been stuck in your mind?”
Ark opened his mouth but he paused. This felt important like he was being tested. So he went with the most confusing one in his head.
“Why does it all mean?”
“What does what mean, little one?”
“I don’t know, the story. He seemed nice. All of them did. For a long while, the story made sense. Until the end when it got all... confusing and messy. Why would Master Skywalker leave all his friends and go away? Is it actually what happened or just a story? Does that mean that emotion is bad? That love will always lead to bad things? What if I get afraid and make a mistake like I did today by going into the caves? Will I hurt someone? I don’t want to do that! I guess that’s what I’m wondering,” Ark said in one breath, not trusting himself to say it in any other manner.
A smile came upon the Master’s face and he seemed to tilt his head at Ark.
“Wise questions.”
A tile was moved before the Master spoke again.
“But the answers you seek are not as certain. For many queries nestled within you, only life can provide you with clarity. All I can say is your emotions- love, fear, anger, hope- are among us for a reason. So listen to what they have to say, and be who you believe you are, the Force will guide you to where you need to go.”
“As for the story, what I told you is true, yes. from a certain point of view. There are other legends as well, and there is always a bit of truth in those. They speak of him finding love and companionship, of doing battle side-by-side with his friends against a great new threat, founding a successful new order, and being laid to rest in peace by his children. We will never know for certain which of them are the real ones, we must simply keep our ears open, and find which ones we resonate with.”
That was... confusing but Ark found that the older Masters seemed to have a habit of doing this, so he figured it was as good an answer as any. This brought him to his second question.
“Could you tell me another story, Master?”
A beat of silence followed when two more of Ark’s game tiles were taken before the Old Master seemed to reply.
“There is one I could tell, yes. But it is a story still being woven by the Force. Are you sure you want to hear what little we know of it?”
Ark vigorously nodded, if it was half as fun as the story before it, he would gladly listen. Maybe this one would end well.
A slow sigh, a pauldron shifted and the Master began again. And was he…blue this time?
“Long Long Ago, there was once a boy in a Tower…”
20 years after a Boy passed his First Trial:-
Their foundations resting upon the ruined remains of past Temples, The Jedi Archives on Tython were a sight to behold. Impenetrable, indestructible, and infinite. Ranging for miles on end, built into the very seams of the snow-capped mountain range that ringed the planet, the Archives were a living, breathing entity that drew those who sought knowledge from all over the galaxy, as a wellspring did to those who sought to slacken their thirst. No one alive remembered how they had been built, the techniques since lost to time. Deep within their bowels, lit by kyber, flanked by sprawling murals, caverns of statues cut by delicate hand, and an interlocking weave of natural light, the Lore Keepers toiled.
Some were archivists, charged with preserving the millennia worth of artifacts and documents that the vaults and shelves housed. Others were librarians, a noble sub-sect who served to educate the younglings and scour the maze-like structure to find the exact right text for a padawan’s frantic preparation to testify before the Council.
Then, there were those, few and scattered as they were, like Ark.Chroniclers. Jedi who spent their lives delving in and out of the galaxies, interviewing planetary denizens, scrambling up ruined monuments while being chased by giant boulders, battling one particularly persistent giant spider, and so forth, before taking those collective discoveries and bringing them back to Tython. An exciting life he had thought, one where he could do his own thing and only occasionally have to deal with the foibles of others.
He really should have known.
“Oh, that’s a load of Bantha poodoo coming from you Telemachus!
“Please. Look who’s talking, just because some of us don’t have their head up their ass like you Disa-”
“Master Ark, surely you can’t stand for this nonsense, tell this laser-brain-
“Mr. A come on, you know I didn’t do-”
“Enough,” said Ark, his fingers clutching his temples as a serious headache began to set on. Of all the days for the caf machine to break down. Lifting his eyes away from the azure tiles below, he looked at the causes of all this, Padawans Telemachus and Disa.
Ark didn’t have a padawan, those were for the elders within the Chroniclers. As a newly anointed Knight and an even newer Chronciler, he was barely getting started on his independent journey. He was enjoying it too! Getting to visit remote planets, organizing archaeological digs, spending weeks holed up in the brig of an ol’ space pirate just so he could secure one of the first complete testimonies of the Ohanakan literature, this is what he had dreamed of doing for as long as he could remember. In exchange for that degree of freedom though, whenever he did touch back down on Tython, the older Jedi treated him as a sort of… glorified babysitter.
There was the time Master Carth had to go “deal with my cousin” ( whatever that meant ) and abandoned him to deal with a gaggle of 6-year-olds. There was the other time when Master Iscander went on her honeymoon and begged him to keep her padawan from trying to burn the place down ( Turns out, that Kuthain just had an exceptional affinity to wielding the Force alongside fire ). And so on it went. Ark didn’t always mind, if anything, he enjoyed spending his time with the initiates and padawans, he got to cut loose and enjoy himself with them. The Masters might have grumbled that he indulged their charges a bit too much, but as far as Ark was concerned, if a padawan wanted to try and ride a Purgill at 3 in the night, probably best someone went along with them ( Also that sounded like a joyful adventure, why would anyone not enjoy that? )
This particular instance though? Ashla preserve him, but his limits were being tested in a manner he had never imagined possible. He had just returned after 3 months spent exploring the Lothal cave system, head full of fascinating images of wolves running across plains, hints of imagery tied to the Peredian Three, and most excitingly, fragments of literature that could potentially resolve the Lasat paradox! Buoyed by that, Ark had burst into the Archives, mumbled some greetings, brewed a canister of tea, and headed straight down the winding paths to his preferred writing nook.
It had been glorious. Two weeks of blissful research and frantic theorization ( snacks obviously for company ). All for it to come crashing down this morning, when TE-FT had shaken him awake and screamed something about how the Grand Master was looking for him ( He may or may not have also drooled all over 5th-century ABY text, but that's not relevant.)
So Ark had taken a shower, swallowed a bread roll, and run to Grand Master Novastar’s private offices, mind frantically attempting to figure out what he had done to warrant the summons. However, instead of an expected admonishment for breaking protocol by bringing back a small loth-wolf pup ( “You did what?!” “ But look at his little face” ), his old clan master had dumped a stack of papers on him, ran Ark over the various protocols to maintain the Temple, and left! Just like that!
A later conversation over Holo had revealed that it wasn’t just her. Turns out, the entire council and 2 dozen of the other highest-ranking Jedi were off to a secret conference at the edge of the twin galaxies. With a premium placed on the speed of their journey, they had packed their bags, sent the younglings and droids on vacation & left, leaving behind only a skeletal staff to oversee Tython’s basic functioning. Some of them had taken the older padawans along with them, deeming it to be a suitable opportunity to learn the intricacies of galactic diplomacy. Others, with younger padawans who couldn’t simply be left behind, had instead decided to take a glorified field trip to the other Temples. He had even heard of a barbeque being organized over at the Temple on Coruscant.
Which brings Ark to where he is now. Temporary Head Knight of the Temple of Tython, Keeper of Knowledge, and Substitute Teacher to 6 teenage padawans, who for varying reasons, had to remain on Tython under Ark’s inexplicable charge. While none of them were exactly looping their arms together and singing kumbaya, most of the padawans were civil enough. Ark had them run a standard set of exercises every day, took them sightseeing when they wanted to, and ensured they were fed. Beyond that, he let them roam as they saw fit. As the largest Temple in the order, Tython had a sprawling complex filled with hundreds of strange and exotic activities, the best ones courtesy of the handful of non-Jedi who also called it home, plenty more than enough to keep a young padawan engaged.
Disa and Telemachus though? If there were a more vocal, antagonistic, and endlessly frustrating pair of padawans in the Jedi order, then Ark hadn’t had the misfortune of meeting them. Separately, they were actually quite pleasant to deal with.
The Battlemasters adored Disa and kept boasting to anyone in a parasec about how one day she would beat the Temple duel record. By Ark’s estimation, she was a sharp, if perhaps to a fault, padawan who seemed to care fiercely and wanted to make her way as a successful knight. Good traits in his book. Telemachus was an agent of chaos. No other way of putting it. While the Forge crew had practically adopted him, helping the padawan to hone his innate gift for hearing the Force sing through the rock and metal, Telemachus did still have the occasional propensity to cause objects in his vicinity to blow up. Aside from that though, Ark saw him as a cheerful, if reckless, padawan who had a bright future as a creator within the Jedi.
Together though? Their combined bickering made Ark wish he had taken up the offer to relocate to a remote monastery when he had the chance ( Who needed access to the galactic holo-net or proper plumbing, at least he could get some sleep )
Today had been Holo-film Night. Snacks in arms, blankets laid down, and squished seating positions established, Ark and the padawans had been watching a man killed by a pencil (The latest installment in a hit action saga starring a retired clone warrior ) when he had looked around to discover that Disa and Telemachus were missing. Not wishing to cause any alarm, he had asked Ratchet ( the library hive mind ) to keep an eye on the remaining kids and set out to search the Archives.
Two hours later, here they were. Ark had just rounded a corner near some of the oldest storage vaults, nearly stumbling right into the Force-Ghost of a Togruta Master who happened to be visiting at the time, when the daring duo had run into him at full trot ( His back did not need this ). All his attempts to ascertain what had happened proved futile, resulting only in them yelling over one another and contradictory fragments of information about some demon in the tunnels.
“Master Ark?”
Shavit, he hadn’t said anything in a while had he?
“Just.. repeat what you told me from the top, and this time, try to avoid your instinct to strangle one another,” said Ark, furrowing his brow and radiating focus through his Force signature.
“Well,” started Disa. “We were in the tunnels behind the Coruscant vault-”
“And remind me, what were you two doing there?”
“Nothing, just, you know Master AK, we were just chillin'?” replied Telemachus. Ark gave it a beat until the padawan’s eyes widened as he processed what he had just blurted out, and right on cue, Disa kicked him in the shins. Ark had to stifle a grin, who did those two think they were fooling? Nevertheless, he had to keep up the stoic facade and focus on the real matter on hand ( Even if Master Varik now owed him 15 credits )
“So while you were chilling,” paused Ark, if only to emphasize his skepticism and amusement at their sheepish faces before continuing, “What was this demon thing you claim to have seen?”
“It came out of nowhere Master. Wailing and screeching, it shot out lighting and tried to brain us with a metallic tube. I managed to push it away while Telemachus pried open the door to this shaft. We walked for about half an hour before you found us,” said Disa, her montrals tense and paled. Whatever she had seen, it had been enough to shake the normally steadfast padawan.
Telemachus picked it up from there.
“We’ve never seen anything like it Master, bright orange and so much anger in a single being. I couldn’t even detect a force signature.”
Ark stroked his beard, trying to recall if there had been any particular beasts that fit that description. While some fulfilled the orange brief, none of them could have had the ability to cloak their presence in the Force. Whatever this creature was, it was not organic, that much he was certain. Perhaps the padawan had inadvertently triggered one of the forgotten hidden defenses. That was the most plausible explanation, the Archives had been around for so long that even the oldest librarians didn’t know all of its contents or its operations. There were a couple of scares like this every year or so. Ark slowly began to nod, that had to be the case. Standing from the alcove that they had taken to for this discussion, Ark motioned for the padwans to follow him as he spelled out his decision.
“Alright. Here’s what we’re going to do. You two will go back to the group,”
“But Master-”
“Let me finish,” said Ark, holding up a hand to cut them off. “While I admire the courage it would take to venture back there with me, I have been charged with your care and cannot allow you to come in harm’s way. It’s possible that whatever you found in there is just a malfunctioning security system. Even so, the possibility of some unknown entity running around the Archives is too dangerous to ignore. I need you to evacuate the others and move out to the Grand Master’s chambers. Lock the room down and wait till I come back. If I don’t, contact the Kashyyyk Guard and have them move in. You are not to disobey these instructions under any circumstance, do I make myself clear?” finished Ark, looking intently at the pair before him for confirmation, hoping he sounded as stern as he could.
They slowly seemed to nod, though he could tell that they didn’t like it. Ark didn’t fault them, he had hated staying back as a Padawan when his Master went off into combat as well. Now, as one of the youngest Knights, he often found himself rolling his eyes at the older Jedi who would refuse to let their padawans, even those who had practically passed the Trials already, see any combat. But Telemachus and Disa were not his padawans, nor was he a Master to make that call for them. Ark had given his word to Grand Master Novastar that the padawans would be safe and he intended to see that through. Still, he paused, looking once more at their determined faces, maybe he could give them something else to do.
“Alright, fine. Once you see to it that the others are safe, you can come back here and stand by as backup. But if there’s even the hint of a greater threat, I want you out of here. Deal?”
Much more vigorous nods now and Ark felt reassured, maybe this would keep them from doing something reckless after all. After pointing out the way back and sending a signal to Ratchet to keep an eye on them, Ark drew his saber and began to walk forward.
10 years after a Boy went back into a Cave:-
“TE-FT, do you see anything up ahead bud?” asked Ark, slowing toeing his way around the perimeter of the vault. The painted walls were scorched, some shelves were singed and the golden lines of stone still thrumming with electricity as he passed by the area where Disa and Telemachus had had their scuffle. He paused, placing his palm upon one of the marks, trying to listen to anything the Force would tell him. So far, it kept silent, with only fleeting glimpses of… something, though Ark could not make out what. Ergo, he had begun a slow but thorough sweeping of the area, coordinating with TE-FT and with occasional jabs through the Force to see if he could smoke out the invader whom he was now certain was here and not a part of any pre-built defense within the Archives. After all, it made little sense to build a system of defenses that would set fire to the very artifacts they sought to protect.
“Nothing... Although hang on, yes! There’s a small disturbance in my sensors due east Ark, I cannot get a visual on it, but whatever we’re looking for is probably there,” replied TE-FT, the droid vibrating with excitement. Ark smiled. TE-FT was a decommissioned battle-droid that he had met one day when he was making his way through the disorganized rabble pile that was Coruscant’s public library system. He had been hunting for a detailed map of the city’s underground transport systems when he had bumped into a pile of tablets taller than he was, causing a mini-avalanche across that whole level. While Ark had used the Force to hold back most of the damage, it had been a green-silver droid with a four etched into his arm that had stepped up to help him sort through the pile, apologize to the librarians, and restore the contents to their original place. They had gotten talking and from then on, decided to go adventuring. Countless missions later, his friend always seemed to enjoy these mysterious capers that they occasionally got into far more than he did the usual mundanity of their occupation.
“OK, I’ll go right, you go left, a classic pincer maneuver, sounds good?”
“Checks out boss, let's go”
Ark nodded, and then slowly made his way out of the corridor and into the shaft to his right, taking care to not stumble into anything. Contrary to what some might think, the shaft he entered was not plunged into darkness or filled with an eerie stillness. The Jedi had taken great care while constructing these vaults in the early days of the Order’s return to Tython, so instead, blue-tinged light streamed in from an opening in the ceiling, with the whirr of temperature control systems and the rustle of trees in the distance providing a beat to the surroundings. But there was still something… off. He couldn’t see it, nor did TE-FT give any indication of having noticed anything, but in this idyllic picture, Ark knew something was waiting for him.
And just as he took his next step, hoping to crane over the corridor- BOOM! An explosion brought the support wall crashing down and Ark found himself mired in dust and smoke. Cursing, he pushed away the worst of the grime, but some of it still made it down his throat and he began coughing as TE-FT’s panicked voice blared over the comm system.
“I’m fine TE-FT, Force that’s a lot of dust, I’m alright!” cried out Ark, hoping to reassure his friend while whirling around to try and spot the intruder.
“Are you sure? You don’t sound so good?”
“Not the time! Look out for the intruder, they might try and - what in Lothal’s twin moons is that!”
Distantly, Ark could hear his friend trying to get his attention, to ascertain what was going on. But he couldn’t answer back, for holding a crackling arm of electricity to his neck, was the strangest droid he had ever seen. Or at least, he thought it was one.
With an orange dome, white body, and two mismatched legs, the diminutive droid had clearly seen better days, even if its weapon systems seemed to be intact. Ark hadn’t known that an older model could so accurately convey emotion, but he could feel it glaring at him, almost as if it wouldn’t hesitate to drop him to the ground if needed. This is why he needed to focus, the lives of the padawans and the others were at stake.
So he breathed, looked the droid straight into the sensor, and said, “Who are you, why are you here? And what do you want from this Temple?”
The droid seemed to startle, before warbling out a string of beeps and boops that he couldn’t make head or tail off, so he tried again, this time using a built-in modulator to sound out Binary.
Nothing, if anything, all he got were even more incensed screams from the droid and a painful shock as it drove the prod into his neck. There was nothing else for it then, he’d have to go on the offensive and incapacitate the droid somehow, without damaging it too much that they couldn’t find out why it had been there. Taking a slow breath, Ark reached out through the Force and gave the droid… a nudge on its bad leg, causing it to wobble against the wall.
Startled, the droid briefly relaxed its prod, and Ark took the opportunity to quickly duck out from under it. Skidding to the side, he then pushed against it with everything he had, sending the droid flying through the room and giving him the time to activate his saber. A pale blade of light now added to the room’s illumination as Ark charged towards the spot where the droid had landed, its beeps still faintly audible as he got closer and closer.
“You stupid organic pile of bones-”
Wait. Was that… Ancient Droidspeak? Blast it, of course, the strange assassin droid would be speaking in the one extinct language in which Ark could barely string a sentence together (Master Taa was going to lord this over him). Regardless, he should at least test this out.
Recalling an old grammar sheet that he had been forced to memorize, Ark cried out in his best imitation of an Ancient Binary sentence as he rounded the droid, placing the saber blade right next to it just as the droid whipped around to face him, with a current charging through its prod. The reaction was instant, the droid seemed to suddenly quieten down and pulled the prod back, tilting its head as if to regard him, before repeating one word, “Jedi?”
Ark vigorously nodded, thanking the Bendu, the droid understood ( If anyone’s interested, Ark had attempted to say “I am a Knight of the Jedi Order, I request you to cease these violent actions and tell me who you are.” The droid had heard “Uh-Jedi-I-Hurt no?” ). However, when he attempted to get closer to it, the droid erupted into another scream of screeches and moved back, metallic arms now flailing about in a threatening manner. What was up with this droid? Why was it so defensive despite seeming to recognize who a Jedi was?
Ark decided to change tack. Now that he knew how to somewhat communicate with the droid, he could find a way to de-escalate the situation before he made any other moves. Knowing Disa and Telemachus, they were probably crawling through a vent to get his location any second now, and he’d rather not have them thrown into this mix. But what could he say? What would be the perfect combination of broken sentences and garbled words that he could offer to get this droid to trust him? Did such a thing even exist?
“Karabast,” he cursed in frustration.
And then, something strange happened.
For the first time since he had encountered it, the droid went absolutely still, something that was strangely more terrifying than its bewildering cries. Ark blinked, sheathed his lightsaber, all while keeping an eye on the droid, and then stepped forward to see if something had gone wrong.
He had not taken two steps before the droid let out a shudder, and a beam of blue light came out from within it. The light slowly formed into a lone figure, their appearance cutting in and out as the signal stabilized. A young male, with dark blue hair and the beginnings of a beard, clad in an orange jumpsuit, and nervously shuffling on his feet came into being.
“My name is Ezra Bridger.”
Ark’s eyes widened. It couldn’t be.
“And if you’re watching this, then I am dead.”