Star Wars: Crucible 7-8

Chapter 7

He hid. He was good at hiding. Yellow-hued synstone buildings surrounded him on almost every side but the entrance to the narrow alley in which he had fled. They were out there – he could see some of them, and sense others – and they were looking for him.

But they wouldn’t find him. They couldn’t find him.

I am safe in the shadows, he thought. The shadows are my allies. He cocked his reptilian head to the side and licked his scaly lips as yet again he surveyed his immediate surroundings. A sigh escaped him.

A pity there are no shadows here.

It was true. The twin suns of Tatooine were high overhead and despite the debris that littered the alley, it would only take one of them to look in his direction to see him. He watched some of the hunters walk by the alley; some to the cantina, and others entered buildings on either side of his hiding place. At any moment they would venture within, and find him. And if they did he would have to kill them, just like he killed the others – but that would alert the rest and there was nowhere to put the bodies. I should run, he told himself with increasing urgency. Bolt. Flee. Get away from this place. I am faster than any of them. They caught Corso, but they will never catch me—

He broke off his thought and inhaled sharply as two Weequays entered the alley at the far end, blasters drawn and peering about keenly. They had not seen him yet but that would soon change, no matter how low he crouched to the ground. I will kill them, then, he decided, and started to rise on all fours. Kill them and run. He took a vibroblade in his clawed hand and—

“There is nothing here,” said a soft voice behind him. “Go look somewhere else.” He spun about in alarm, brandishing his knife and a hooded stranger stood there with a hand raised toward the two advancing Weequays, ignoring him completely. Where did he come from? There were no exits in the back of the alley. No way in or out unless someone dropped down from the roof. How did he sneak up on me? The two Weequays looked in the direction of the stranger in confusion and then began backing very slowly out of the alley as if in a sort of dream-state. They did not offer a single word of protest.

He blinked. He speaks and they obey – without question. Who is this being? He shook his draconic-looking head and then regarded the hooded figure in the alley beside with newfound respect, lowering his knife. The stranger gave him a slow, knowing nod. “Come with me,” he said in the same quiet voice. “You will be safe.” The figure held out his hand and waited.

“Who are you?” he asked in a gravely rasp. The figure raised his face and smiled.

“I am Oden Kan and I have been expecting you.”



The lodge was both worse and better than Crijo had expected. A small path wide enough for a speeder ascended the steep ridge toward it and terminated at what used to be a small yard. Once upon a time there had been a synstone wall around it – no doubt as protection against the harsh sandstorms – but it had long since crumbled into a collection of dust and misshapen rock. Crijo recognised old scorch-marks on some of the stones from blaster fire. The wall would never be rebuilt without more synstone so the Twi’lek had been forced to remove it and clear the yard completely.

It was not easy. He started by picking up individual rocks in his arms and tossing them down the mountainside to add to the rubble that already lay below – from the rockslide he had caused and where he had buried the two dead Tuskens – but that soon proved too taxing. In the end he had resorted to using the Force to lift the debris from around the lodge and drop it down the cliff. It was still draining after a while but at least it got the job done.

He hoped Master Oden wouldn’t disapprove.

The interior of the lodge was larger than he expected. The outer building formed only a small part as the rest of it was cut directly into the stone of the mountain, effectively creating a habitable cave. It was completely filthy, strewn about with dust and sand and, – to Crijo’s disgust – even humanoid remains. Apparently whoever had lived here previously never had the chance to leave. The Padawan surmised that the previous residents had been confronted by the Sand People who’d killed them and then left the place alone. It made sense as such a domicile would have been of no use to the nomadic inhabitants of the Wastes. However, it made Vaade’s job of cleaning it out that much more unpleasant.

Two days passed before he was comfortable that his Master would consider the dwelling “livable” as he had stipulated. The automatic door had needed some repairing, as well as the few remaining appliances and facilities inside. Crijo succeeded in reactivating the generator in the basement, and was able to power up the lights and the internal cooling system. It wouldn’t last long, however – they needed more power converters.

Other systems were not quite so fortunate. The moisture-vaporator outside had taken some blaster-fire and would need replacing completely. This meant they would have to rely upon their own supplies of food and water for the time being. It also rendered the kitchen and bathroom facilities useless until they fixed the water supply.

Furniture was rustic and sparse, but at least they would have places to sit, eat and rest. There were even tools and other implements stored and forgotten in a few of the cupboards and shelves. All in all, Crijo found he could not really complain about the condition of the lodge. Standing on the ledge outside overlooking the canyon he felt reasonably proud of what he had done. Ironically he was also proud of the mess of the canyon exit as it had apparently stopped the Sand People from using it. Three full days and nights had passed since Oden Kan had deserted him here and they had passed in relative peace and quiet.

Now all he needed was for his master to return so he could get to the training that Oden had planned for him, here on the most dismal planet in the galaxy.



Despite being blind Crijo had always preferred to get up with the dawn – it was always dark for him so the time made little difference. He had found that even on a world like Tatooine, there was something strangely calming about being outside during the ‘time between times’ – dawn and dusk. It was a time of transition, of beginnings and endings, and possibilities. He let the slightly cooler morning breeze touch his face, which he lifted upward, opening his mind to the Force.

This is the only way to see the dawn, he thought to himself as his senses embraced the sky and the rising suns, Tatoo I and Tatoo II. Myriad possibilities seemed to move and weave around him like the wind; currents flowing in different directions, here one moment and gone the next – opportunities easily missed if one did not pay attention. This was one of the first lessons Oden Kan had ever taught him, even as he was learning to see.

This is seeing, Oden Kan had told him. Beings who use only their eyes – they are the truly blind ones. See the universe for what it is, and what it could be. Embrace each moment, and the opportunities they bring. Go where they lead you. That is the way the Force.

The Twi’lek smiled to himself and reached for the staff that rested against the side of the lodge. It had been a broom once, in another life. But since the head was broken and the bristles eaten by something small with very sharp teeth, Crijo had cut the head from it with his vibroknife and now trained with it as a makeshift quarterstaff. It was made of thick, sturdy bronzewood, almost six feet in length and well-balanced. He stepped back to the very edge of the mountainside above a high drop and began twirling the staff around his body in fluid circular motions, slowly at first and then with increasing speed.

A few minutes later, his concentration was interrupted by a sensation in the back of his skull. Very slowly, he lowered his weapon to his side and itched the back of his neck underneath his lekku, trying to figure out what it was.

I know that feeling… Crijo turned around and using the staff as a walking stick, he made his way back toward the lodge. The feeling grew stronger yet it was not coming from within the building. The Twi’lek lifted his face and let his sphere of awareness expand with the Force all around him – something, no someone was approaching the lodge and swiftly. His breath caught in his throat as he finally recognised who it was.

Master!

Crijo’s brain-tails quivered with excitement at Oden Kan’s return, followed immediately by nervousness. Had he fulfilled his master’s wishes? Would the lodge be ‘livable’ enough? Should he make a last-minute effort to check everything? He knew there was nothing else he could do so he chose to banish his worries. The boy inhaled deeply and as he released the breath, he relaxed into the embrace of the Force. Standing there outside the lodge half way up the mountainside he focused his Force-Sight on the western horizon. There in the distance, gently illumined in ethereal gold light that stood out from the usual blue-grey in which he saw everything, was Kan’s landspeeder, with the Jedi Master at the controls. Then a frown touched Crijo’s pale-skinned brow.

Kan was not alone.

Vaade could easily recognise Oden’s presence even at this distance. The sensation of his master’s emotions – determination, purpose, and confidence – were almost as familiar to him as his own. But beside the Devaronian there sat another. To Crijo the figure appeared as a small cloud silhouetted by the sun, and he could not sense much of it at all save a strong feeling of pain, and the faint spark of hope. The Twi’lek shook his brain-tails, frowning again in curiosity.

Who has Master Oden brought back with him now? He wondered with more than a little undertone of complaint. The speeder cruised over the dunes at a high velocity which brought it to the edge of the Jundland Waste within seconds. Oden Kan steered it slowly up the path to the hunting lodge, bringing it to a full stop several feet away from the building. Crijo adjusted his grip on the staff and waited for his master and the mysterious passenger to get out. He could feel apprehension coming from the other individual who seemed to be doing his best to remain hidden behind Oden.

The Devaronian pulled back his hood, revealing his horned head and leaned to the side, whispering something. Crijo continued to watch with Force-Sight as the other figure neatly leapt from the speeder opposite Oden Kan. As it padded carefully around to stand with the Jedi Master, Crijo sensed its cold blood, scaly skin and the fierce, predatory intensity with which it regarded its surroundings. It was male, scarcely five feet tall, yet wiry in build and shrouded in an aura of suspicion and curiosity. It had an elongated skull with a spiny crest along it, bony ridges around its bulbous, translucent eyes and a wide maw brimming with teeth. Recognition dawned on the Twi’lek Padawan and he inhaled sharply.

A Saurin? He thought bewildered. They were a common sight in starports all over the galaxy. It’s either that or a very short Trandoshan. What is he doing here?

Kan looked at Vaade and then back at the Saurin beside him, nodding. The other lifted his chin a little at the Jedi and sniffed the air with its cavernous nostrils. Looking pointedly at Crijo he said in a guttural rasp, “This is the one you told me of. Your… student.” There was a distinct edge of disdain to the reptiloid’s last word and Crijo bristled.

“Yes,” replied Kan easily. He was watching Crijo’s reaction with a faint hint of amusement that the boy could sense. “As you are also my student.”

Student?! Vaade mentally exclaimed. What do you mean, ‘student?’ He felt his Master’s amusement increase because of his indignation and had to resist the urge to let the expression show on his face. Instead he let his thoughts project outward deliberately toward the smirking Devaronian. He’s a student too? Who is he??

The Saurin looked more closely at Crijo and spoke again, his tone of voice dripping with open contempt. “He is blind – weak.” His toothy maw opened and licked his lips.

“He has his strengths,” said Oden, cutting off Crijo before he could retaliate. The Devaronian Jedi gestured with a hand and a small stone suddenly rose from the ground. An instant later it then sped as if hurled from a sling at his Twi’lek Padawan. Vaade acted without thinking and swung his staff into the path of the rock, deflecting it away—

--and straight at the Saurin. It struck against the reptiloid’s scaly skin with a satisfying ‘thud’ and Crijo threw him the smuggest of grins.

With a snarl the reptilian humanoid leapt at the Twi’lek, catching him off-guard and sending the pair of them sprawling in the dirt. Crijo attempted to wrestle him off, but his concentration had been broken and it was all he could do to keep the Saurin’s fangs and claws at bay. He didn’t have to worry for long as an unseen force gripped both of the squabbling youths and pulled them apart. Crijo was left dangling in mid air while the Saurin was firmly thrust up against the wall of the lodge.

Vaade expected to receive a sound beating – or scolding at least – from his master but the Devaronian only smiled coolly and looked at each of his dangling ‘puppets’ in turn. “Crijo Vaade,” he said in a deceptively light tone of voice. “Meet your fellow Padawan – Malius Ra’ssik.” He turned to the Saurin. “Malius Ra’ssik – meet Crijo Vaade.”



“Are you serious?” Crijo asked incredulously. He felt ridiculous of course – floating as he was in mid-air – but that didn’t seem to matter against the thought of having this violent, insulting bug-eyed lizard as a fellow student of the Force. Master Oden can’t possibly think he can make a Jedi of this…reptile! He scowled and opened his mouth to argue again but a warning look from Oden silenced him.

Malius Ra’ssik on the other hand struggled ferociously against the invisible hand of the Force that held him against the wall, glaring murderously at Crijo. I should strangle you with your own brain-tails, Worm-head, he thought. As soon as I can free myself.

Oden Kan tsked and walked a few steps toward the foul-tempered Saurin, wiggling a finger back and forth reprovingly. “Don’t be angry at him,” he told Ra’ssik. “You called him weak and he proved you wrong. Stop that now or I will leave you where I found you.”

Ra’ssik immediately stopped struggling and looked wide-eyed in sudden fear at Oden. He hung his head. “I…yield,” he grated with some difficulty. “I owe you my life, I—I yield.” He stared at the ground over which he hovered, dejectedly.

“Good.” Oden looked at both of his apprentices witheringly. “I will let you down now. You will behave as worthy Jedi Padawans.” He didn’t have to add “or else” – it was obvious he meant it.

Both Crijo and Malius nodded mutely and then began to gently sink to the ground. As soon as the Twi’lek’s feet touched solid rock once more, he immediately braced for an attack from Malius – but it never came. He heard the Saurin’s raspy breathing and stretched out with the Force toward him. He sensed deep anger, resentment and fear just has he had moments before, but now underneath them he thought he detected...shame? Adding that to the fear he sensed, Crijo suddenly began to pity him.

Ra’ssik calmed his breathing with terrible difficulty, his tongue snaking out over and over again in agitation. His translucent eyes shifted between Oden Kan and Crijo Vaade intently, and occasionally toward the landspeeder – but he never moved. I will not run like a coward, he thought to himself. I will stay and show these two—he glared again at Crijo—who and what I am. He remained against the wall of the lodge in complete silence but for his heavy breathing, and continued to watch and listen.

Oden Kan stepped between his two Padawans, a finger pointed to each of them. “This is the will of the Force, and we will obey.”

“I am ready!” Ra’ssik interrupted with a sudden burst. He looked fiercely at Oden Kan, and took a step toward him. “You said you would teach me – to be a Jedi – and I am ready. I will prove it. I am ready.”

Crijo squirmed. He found Malius’ intensity unnerving. Why is he so keen? he wondered. Does he even know just how hard a master Oden Kan is? Would he be so eager if he did? He resisted the urge to shake his head dubiously and stood there in obedient silence.

Kan held up his hand again. To Ra’ssik he said, “I keep my word – remember that. No longer will you be an agent of chaos, pain or meaningless slaughter. You will be an agent of justice and compassion in the galaxy. You will be a Jedi. Remember what I say now when you find this road harder than you have imagined. I will teach you. What you learn however – and how fast you learn it – will be up to you.”

As the Saurin bowed his head to the Jedi Master in submission, Crijo thought he sensed fear coming from him. What is he so afraid of? He wondered. Where did Master Oden find this guy? What did he save him from? What has he already put him through? The questions came hard and fast to the Twi’lek but he was given no further time to ponder them.

“Crijo,” said Oden.

“Yes, Master?”

“Take Malius Ra’ssik inside and show him our new home. Make sure he has a place to sleep and food to eat.” He paused. “I assume you took care of all this?”

Vaade was already moving toward the lodge, staff in hand, and keeping a wary eye on Ra’ssik. “Yes, Master,” he replied with a nod. “We need some more supplies but we’re fine for now.”

Oden nodded. “Good.” He stroked his chin with a forefinger and thumb. “Would you care to tell me what are you doing with a walking stick?” There was a subtle edge to the question as he indicated Crijo’s quarterstaff with a taloned finger. “I forbade them.”

As the Twi’lek stammered, Ra’ssik spread his lips in a wide, gleeful smirk. “It...isn’t a walking stick, Master,” Crijo explained carefully. “It’s a—that is, it used to be—a broom. It was broken so I made it into a staff. I have been training.”

A smirk appeared on Kan’s face, almost as predatory as Ra’ssik’s. “I see. The broom was damaged so you cut its head off and made it into a weapon. Resourceful.”

Crijo grinned. There was not even a hint of rebuke in Oden’s voice. Rassik’s gleeful smirk reluctantly turned sour and he looked away muttering under his breath and scowling. Vaade leaned the weapon against the wall and nodded to the fowl-tempered Saurin. “C’mon,” he ventured, trying to hide his dislike behind a thin smile. “I’ll show you around... Where are you from?”

“Hell,” the Saurin rasped and he shouldered his way past Crijo and stalked off toward the door on his own. Why should I tell you?

Crijo muttered, shook his head and started to follow Malius when Oden Kan called out behind them. “Wait, both of you.”

Both Padawans stopped and turned around.

Oden fixed his two students with a solid stare. “The past is the past – you will not discuss it. It is forgotten until I tell you to remember it. Here you will focus upon what I teach you, free from distractions. Understood?”

“Yes, Master,” said Crijo and Malius in perfect unison, each one as dubious as the other.

Oden Kan shooed them toward the door. “Get settled quickly. We have work to do.”



Chapter 8

“Is there anything else, Master?” Crijo asked. He stared straight ahead over the kitchen table, listening intently to Oden Kan go over the supplies they needed again. Malius Ra’ssik sat by himself on a chair in the far corner, watching Crijo with open suspicion. Since they had ventured inside the lodge, the Saurin had hardly spoken. He just sat there, shoulders hunched and his draconic face all but buried in the robes he wore. Crijo sensed the animosity from the new apprentice but he could not figure out why.

Oden Kan lifted a forefinger and thumb to his chin and stroked it thoughtfully. “Yes, there is.” He looked deliberately across at Malius, who shuffled uncomfortably, and then back at the Twi’lek. “Keep your ears open. I want to know everything that is going on in the settlement.”

With a knowing nod of his head, Vaade turned his face a little to the side so that his voice carried directly toward Ra’ssik even though he addressed Oden. “Are you expecting trouble, Master?” he asked in a careful tone of voice.

Malius leaned forward with a darkened expression. He sneered in Crijo’s direction and then very deliberately licked his lips in a predatory fashion. What do you think, Twi’lek? Am I trouble?

The Twi’lek sensed it. I think I hit a chord…he wondered. But what chord? What has the big-mouthed Saurin been up to? Why won’t Master Oden let us talk about where we’re from? What does the lizard have to hide?

The Jedi Master snorted in derision and chuckled drily. “On this planet? I am always expecting trouble.” As soon as he finished speaking he gave Crijo a long, meaningful look. Your thoughts betray you again, my young apprentice.

Crijo jumped – nearly. He managed to catch the reaction before leaping out of his seat when he heard his Master’s words in his mind. Sorry, Master, he apologised and let his head droop a little in chagrin.

Kan gave a diabolical smirk. “Just report anything you hear – or sense – to me when you return. Understood?”

“Yes, Master.” The cream-skinned Twi’lek nodded contritely and pulled his sun-visor out of his travelling robes. Affixing it over his sightless eyes he slowly rose to his feet. “If Mos Keto doesn’t have all the things we need, I may need to go as far as Bestine. It could be a day or more before I’m back.”

“Then you had best hurry.” Oden put his hands on his hips and waited for Crijo to start moving.

“May the Force be with you, Master,” said the Twi’lek as started to leave. He hesitated to say something to Malius who still glowered at him from the corner, but he changed his mind and strode for the door, using his Force-Sense to guide him easily out of the building.

Oden Kan watched his blind student leave and then swivelled his body around to fix Malius Ra’ssik with an imperious gaze. “Now, you. Come with me. “

Malius finally stopped glowering and focused on the Devaronian. “Yes… Master?”

Oden Kan began walking slowly toward the door and motioned for Ra’ssik to follow. “It is time to begin your training.”

Anticipation sparked within the diminutive Saurin and he eagerly followed after the Jedi. Outside, the landspeeder’s engines could be heard as Crijo fired them up, and then the noise swiftly disappeared as the Twi’lek departed. Ra’ssik licked his wide lips, pleased. Thank the Huntress, he is gone.

Oden cast a look over his shoulder. “Leave your robe. Stay in your loincloth.”

“Yes, Master,” replied Malius obediently. Training without encumbrance, he thought with approval as he pulled his flowing robes over his head. Just like Durkteel. Just like the temple. He dumped the robe on the ground and stood in a simple loincloth, waiting. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” was all Oden said and then guided his new student out into broad daylight. Ra’ssik squinted against the glare and stood impatiently by the door to the lodge wondering what the Devaronian had in mind.

“Will it be vibroblades?” he asked. “I know them well.”

Kan said nothing.

“Blasters, then?” Malius pressed. “Hand-to-hand? Lightsaber-training?” His tongue slid out of his cavernous mouth and licked his lips, but he immediately tasted hot sand on the wind and screwed up his face in disgust. Suddenly he missed his robe and hood.

“Something more important, Padawan,” Oden replied coolly and he pointed to the domed roof of the lodge. “Up.”

“Up?” Confused, Ra’ssik looked at the roof and cocked his head to the side.

Kan nodded. “Up.”

His scepticism evident in his face, Ra’ssik gathered his legs beneath him and sprang upward, landing neatly in a half-crouch in the middle of the roof-top. This is not much of a test, he observed obliquely, and looked back over his shoulder at Oden, awaiting further instructions.

“Very good,” said Oden in a bland tone of voice. “Now, sit.”

A perplexed growl rumbled up within the reptiloid’s throat, but he obeyed without voicing any word of contention and sat in a cross-legged position in the centre of the domed roof. The midday sunlight hurt his eyes so he focused his attention on the ground. He could already feel his dark scaly skin on his back heating up uncomfortably.

From his position below, Oden Kan looked up at Malius. “Close your eyes. Clear your mind of distractions, of questions, – of thought.” He waited several seconds as Ra’ssik grudgingly obeyed. “Stretch out with your feelings, my apprentice—”

Abruptly, Malius opened his eyes, shook his draconic head and blinked down at Oden in perplexity. “You wish me to... meditate?” he asked.

Kan folded his arms and stared back at the Saurin. “I wish you to feel the Force, Padawan. The weak and the lazy can do this in anger and in fear – but the Jedi must master these emotions and learn to touch the Force in peace and clarity of mind.”

“But why here?” Malius scraped at the synstone roof with a talon and flicked a piece of rock away as though it offended him. “What is up here that is not down there?”

“Up there you cannot hide – not from the suns, not from yourself. You have walked too much in the shadows, Malius Ra’ssik. Too near the Dark Side. It will be a long and hard trek back into the light for you. I doubt you will make it all the way – but all the way is not necessary. For now I will be content with a single step in the right direction–providing you have the will to accomplish that much.”

Malius grumbled throatily and sat back up again. ‘Providing I have the will’ he repeated sarcastically in his mind. He began to breathe deeply, inhaling through his broad nostrils and exhaling out through his mouth. His hands rested lightly upon his knees and he bowed his head forward a fraction. I have more than enough will. I have a will of iron. I am iron. I am steel. I am—

“This is pointless, Master!” he hissed through his teeth in frustration.

Oden Kan scoffed audibly and paced back and forth on the ground around the building. “All those years in the temple on your homeworld and you have not yet mastered patience?” he sneered. “I question what they have taught you.”

Malius clenched his hands into fists. “What training is this! This…meditation? This is not the way of the warrior! Give me something to face and I will prove myself to you!”

Kan regarded him with a solid, implacable stare. “You have faced many foes, Malius – with speed and stealth as your allies – and thus far you have prevailed.” He pointed a talon at Ra’ssik’s face. “But there is one enemy you have not faced – one enemy you will not face – and until you do you cannot be more than you are. You cannot be a Jedi.”

Ra’ssik scowled and put his hands on the hot stone on either side of him. “And what is this enemy?” he rasped, heavy with sarcasm.

“I think you know.”

Confusion and frustration caused the Saurin to blink again and shake his head vigorously from side to side. “What do you mean?” He grew steadily more suspicious and peered closer at the Jedi Master. “What are you saying?”

Kan folded his arms and stared icily back at his student. “Only a fool fights a war on two fronts, Padawan. You must end the war within before you can fight the war without.”

Ra’ssik growled and his claws dug grooves in the synthetic stone roof. “You speak in riddles! I thought you brought me here to teach me to fight! You said you would when you found me!” His scaly upper lip quivered in suppressed anger.

“What good would it do you to run into battle – only to be betrayed by your own fears?”

Malius ground his teeth. “I fear nothing,” he grated, slowly enunciating each word.

Kan shook his horned head. “You fear everything.”

“I fear nothing!” The Saurin sprang to his feet, his arms held out at either side and claws flexed in animalistic rage.

Oden calmly swatted his hand at Ra’ssik as if he were a flitnat and the reptiloid flew back off the roof to slam painfully into the rock-wall of the mountainside. Holding Ra’ssik there with the Force, he advanced quietly and pointed with his finger. “You fear yourself, Malius – and so you fear everything.”

A groan emanated from Malius’ throat and he struggled weakly against the invisible fist that held him against the rock. “Myself? How…” he strained to say. The impact with the wall had winded him and now breathing was painful.

Keeping his pointing hand raised, Oden came to stand a few feet away from the apprentice. “Look within yourself, Malius. Look past the warrior you have been, past the temple acolyte, past the outcast¸ past all the things you have told me as I brought you here – Look, and tell me: what do you see?” His eyes narrowed and his voice hardened. “What do you see?”

A bellow erupted from Ra’ssik’s mouth. “Nothing!” he yelled despairingly as if the word was dragged forcibly from his throat. “I see nothing!” He thrashed around, twisting and jerking his body against the telekinetic powers that held him. “There is nothing there to see!”

The Devaronian Jedi shook his head slowly and let his arm fall to his side. The invisible fist disappeared and Malius tumbled to the ground and stayed there. “And you think Crijo is blind,” Oden sighed, and slowly began walking away. Ra’ssik began to wonder if his training would end right then and there, before it had even begun, when Kan abruptly paused and glanced back over his shoulder at him. “Come with me, Malius Ra’ssik.”

With difficulty, the Saurin rose to his three-clawed feet and stood there trying to catch his breath. Powerful emotions boiled and seethed within him, each fighting for dominance, but he did not move except to breathe. Was it not over, then? What could this domineering Jedi have planned for him now? He did not relish being thrown against any more walls. “Where?” he asked huskily.

Kan pointed up the mountain. “You have forgotten who you are, Malius Ra’ssik. It is time you were reacquainted. Up the mountain you will continue your meditation.”

Malius felt crestfallen but he followed after the Jedi Master regardless. “For how long?” he asked, fearing he already knew the answer.

“For as long as it takes.”



The hunting cry of a lone Ta’krrl echoed through the trees overhead as a juvenile Malius Ra’ssik made his way silently through the mist-shrouded forest floor. He glanced upward at the reptavian predator that soared effortlessly through the chilly night air, and silently wished it a rewarding hunt. The moons over Durkteel lit up the night like two luminescent eyes peering downward. Ra’ssik imagined them as the eyes of the Huntress, goddess of the Saurin, keenly watching over her people, as the priesthood had always taught them. When the two moons were full it was said the Huntress took particular interest in the events of the night, and so she watched with her full attention. Malius hunkered down to the ground again, clad only in a simple belt and loincloth, and broke into a silent sprint.

Tonight was a night for hunting.

He sped through the undergrowth for several minutes, leaping over rocks and branches that lay in his way, always careful of where his feet fell. He was as the wind, wending his way over land and under tree, intent on his destination. His cavernous nostrils caught a scent ahead of him and he came to an abrupt halt, behind a fallen chayva-tree.

It is near, he thought with a rush of anticipation and he peered over the tree-trunk into a small clearing a few hundred yards upwind of him. There, scavenging through the misty undergrowth was a mud-furred starg – known in Galactic Basic as a mawrat for the size of its teeth and the immense crushing power of its jaws. Malius licked his lips. This mawrat was large – nearly three meters long from nose to tail, and just under a meter high at its shoulder. It had a short bristly coat of mud-coloured fur and a long whip-like tail that trailed behind it.

A female, thought the Saurin, noting the rodent’s size with a hint of dread. Scavenging for its young. Never taking his eyes from his quarry he reached for the knife at his belt and took it firmly in his taloned hand. Uttering a silent prayer to the Huntress for his own success, he began padding his way forward. The starg remained oblivious to his presence as each step brought him closer. A mere handful of feet away Malius reversed his grip on the knife and braced himself for the kill.

A commotion in the branches above caught the mawrat’s attention and the vicious scavenger turned around with a snarl. Ra’ssik had to act instantly and launched himself straight into the giant rodent with his knife aimed directly at its throat. The pair of them rolled about in the brush violently, each trying to gain an advantage over the other with tooth, claw, tail and dagger. Malius knew his diminutive size would work against him so he relied on his speed. The starg female must have been thinking the same thing for it moved like lightning, trying to sink its sharp incisors in anywhere it could. A twist of its head and it managed to tear into Malius’ side with its teeth, even as he plunged his knife deep into its neck. He stabbed it again through the heart, and the mawrat convulsed before it could lock its jaws and fell limply across the bleeding Saurin.



Some time later, Malius Ra’ssik strode out of the forest and up to the high stone archway that led into the temple of the Huntress just outside his village. He held one scaly hand over his side to stem the blood-flow, and in his other he held the severed tail of the mawrat he had just slain. A hooded and cloaked figure bearing a long jewelled staff in its hand stood in the archway and beckoned the juvenile Saurin forward. It addressed him in Saurinese as he came near.

“Welcome back, Malius Ra’ssik,” the figure said, as it gestured formally with the ceremonial staff. The large, round golden gem atop it glinted in the moonlight. “The Huntress smiles on you this night, and thus smiles upon the priesthood.” The priest looked at the long bloodied tail in Malius’ hand. “You have chosen your first prey well.”

Malius silently laid the trophy down on the temple floor at the foot of the priest. “The starg are too great in number, High Priest,” he said with humility, the pain of his injury also evident in his voice.” The death of this one brings the world closer to balance.”

The high priest nodded and motioned with his staff toward the inner sanctum. “Come, acolyte. The time of proving is past and now the time for healing and rest has come. Starg-bites are septic and I will not have you perish before your Shedding Ceremony.” He turned and walked into the darkened chamber with Malius following more slowly behind, disappearing into the shadows of the temple.



Ra’ssik opened his eyes again as the vision faded and immediately noticed several things that made him wonder where he was. The light had almost gone as the twin suns of Tatooine dipped below the horizon, and the temperature was noticeably cooler. How long have I been up here? he asked himself, and as if in response his stomach growled loudly with hunger. That long? He climbed stiffly to his feet, casting a puzzled look around at the mountaintop. What time is it?

“What did you see?” asked a voice behind him and Ra’ssik wheeled about, expecting to have to defend himself. Oden Kan stood some feet away, his arms folded inside his robes which billowed in the evening breeze. The Devaronian stood with the setting suns behind him so that nothing was visible of him but his horned silhouette. Malius relaxed only very slightly.

“My first hunt,” he replied in a weary voice. “I was ten cycles past my hatching, an acolyte of the temple.” He shook his elongated head at the memory, surprised he had forgotten it. “I killed a female starg with my kaa-knife and brought its tail-whip to the high priest as proof.”

The shadowed Devaronian didn’t move. “And what did you learn?”

It took a while for Malius to form his response. He licked his lips several times over, blinking his large dark eyes in deep concentration. Finally he replied, “The Huntress values both hunter and prey; one is nothing without the other.” He looked directly at the Jedi Master. “Each kill has meaning. We keep the balance. “

There was a silence for a while and then Kan gave a brusque nod of his head. He turned to walk back down toward the lodge and beckoned to Malius. “Come.” The pair of them began walking down the mountainside, neither one saying anything to the other until they reached the building. Oden activated the door, but Ra’ssik paused.

“What happens next, Master?” he inquired.

A subtle smirk formed on Oden’s lips. “Now – we eat, and then we sleep.” He ushered the Saurin inside the building with a waving hand. “You have taken your first step in the right direction, tonight, my apprentice.” As Ra’ssik disappeared inside, Oden smiled to himself.

“Tomorrow, you shall take more.”