The Third Order: Chapter 11

Chapter 11: SNAFU

-16 days later-

The roar of the G-Wing shuttle’s engines filled the jungle as it made its final approach to the hangar. The sight of the shuttle overhead was a welcomed relief for the entire camp; everyone had been on edge since the attack a couple of weeks ago, especially since most of the surviving assassins had successfully slipped away into the jungle. But now that the leaders of both groups were returning, there was a chance things could finally settle down.

Jaq watched the shuttle slide backwards through the hangar doors and touch down, allowing a half-grin to appear on his face as he started heading towards the building. He had to admit he was more than a little curious as to what transpired on Onderon; Silas still hadn’t made him privy to his entire plan, but he knew enough to understand the Jedi Master rumored to be on the planet was an important part of it. He was also eager to tell Silas something he recently discovered; a hidden, and damned hilarious, truth about their latest mechanical addition to the crew. He was so preoccupied with the thoughts of how the others reacted to his discovery that he disregarded the modest chill running down his spine. After all, what’s a slight breeze compared to the realization that the most powerful Exchange crime lord on Nar Shaddaa was actually a…

“DAMN KAVAR and DAMN TOBIN!!”

Oh shit. Jaq came to a dead halt when he heard the bone-chilling roar of an angry Silas Carver. His body, his very being, filled with dread as he remembered what a pissed-off Silas Carver was like, what Darth Malvolis was capable of while in a foul mood. Jaq was just about to turn around and head in the other direction when he caught sight of the black-robed man; even at this distance, Jaq could tell the man had enough fury in his eyes to burn anyone who crossed him to ashes.

“To Hell with his deal,” Carver continued, throwing up his right hand. “I should have just killed them all and been done with it!” He swatted the air in front of him, sending a nearby supply crate flying into the wall with a blast of the Force. Then he started walking. “Who does he think he’s dealing with? How stupid does he think I am?” Mandalore and Brianna then emerged into view. They seemed perfectly satisfied with the amount of lead the man ahead of them had, and they were in no hurry to keep pace.

Jaq recognized Carver’s walk: the long heavy stride and the quick pace. He wasn’t just angry; he only reached that speed when he was beyond furious, and Carver was headed right towards him. Jaq swallowed nervously as his leader quickly closed the distance between them and waited until Carver was directly in front of him to say anything.

“Hey, Sy,” said Jaq, trying to hide his apprehension as best he could, “How did th…?”

Carver simply growled as he stormed past.

But for some reason, Jaq was unsatisfied with the dismissive reply and, in an attempt to glean more information, started after him. It took only a few exaggerated strides to catch up, and once Carver was within arm’s length, Jaq reached out for his shoulder. “Hey Si…” About half a second before his hand could grab the black robe, the alarms in his head started blaring. But it was too late. The instant Jaq’s fingers touched Carver, his windpipe collapsed, and Jaq was hoisted over half a meter off the ground. While clawing for the invisible hand around his throat, his gaze was drawn to Silas’ upturned right hand, which was gripping the air. He started to panic; those one and a half words he spoke had drained some of the air in his lungs, and he was quickly using up the rest. But with his throat sealed, the possibility of suffocating was slowly becoming a reality. After several long gagging seconds, Jaq saw Carver glance back at him. It was possible that Carver had recognized him because his fingers sprang flat, sending the once-Scoundrel sailing backwards through the air with a burst of Force energy.

Jaq landed awkwardly on his back and tumbled a couple of meters until Bao-Dur’s ankle finally stopped his roll. He laid there, face-up, for a few seconds trying to catch his breath.

“Are you all right?” asked Bao-Dur, looking down at the prone man.

“Yeah; I’ll live,” Jaq replied between rounds of coughing. He propped himself up, watching Carver march into the distance, the tail of his black robe undulating with every step. “We’re in for one hell of a week.”

“I wonder what he found out about you this time,” Bao-Dur said with a wry grin.

Jaq tried to smirk at the Iridonian, but one last cough broke his expression. He looked to his right and found Brianna and the Mandalore heading towards them.

“Brianna,” said the Iridonian to the Echani, “what happened down on Onderon?”

“We’ve become embroiled in their immanent civil war,” she answered, sounding relatively disappointed.

Bao-Dur’s eyes widened. “What? Openly? He isn’t worried about actually setting it off?”

Mandalore waved away the question. “The only thing that’s happened so far is a few street skirmishes between civilians. Soldiers haven’t gotten involved…yet. Well, nothing beyond standard crowd control.”

“Once we were recognized as heavily-armed off-worlders,” continued Brianna, “we received offers from both factions to support their cause.”

“Why didn’t you just stay out of it?” asked Bao-Dur.

“That would have been preferable,” she replied, “but the attacks forced our hand.”

“Attacks?” repeated Bao-Dur. “Who would attack you?”

“Someone who was probably too stupid to realize who you were,” said Jaq, still lying on the ground, though in a much more comfortable position with his hands tucked under his head.

Brianna looked down at him, noting his over-relaxed posture, and shook her head dismissively at him. “The Royalist supporters attacked us first,” she said, looking back at Bao-Dur, “after they witnessed a meeting between us and a group of Vaklu’s advocates. They assumed we had sided with the General.”

“But you hadn’t, right?” asked Jaq, cautiously.

Brianna glanced down at him. “Up until that point,…no.”

“Wait,” said Jaq, finally deciding to pull himself to his feet. He quickly swiped his hand over his gray robe to remove any dirt clinging to the fabric. “You’re not saying we are now, are you?”

“Siding with Vaklu has advantages for us,” said Mandalore. “For one, it ends the threat of attacks on our camp.”

“And the fact that he was the one ordering those attacks means nothing?” Jaq shot back.

Mandalore shrugged. “Think of it as a cease fire then, if you have to, but the end result is the same.”

Jaq looked back at Brianna, confusion plastered all over his face. “And Silas was fine with this?”

“He was…hesitant…to agree,” she admitted, “but given the circumstances, it was the right choice.”

“I don’t believe this,” said Jaq, closing his eyes and pressing his thumb and index finger against his eyebrows for a moment. “The man tried to shoot us down, Brianna. He’s tried to kill us…twice. And we’re working with him now?”

The Echani gave him a look that was just shy of condescending. “The Jedi we were looking for is the queen’s bodyguard,” she stated.

Jaq did a take. “What?” Brianna nodded once, and he let out a soft chuckle. “So, the queen’s allied with the Jedi, and Vaklu’s allied with the Sith.” After a short pause, he sighed. “This is going to get ugly.”

“Wait,” said Bao-Dur. “If Silas agreed to help Valku, why is he so upset?”

Brianna winced slightly. “Things became…complicated during our last hours on the planet.”

“Define ‘complicated’,” said Jaq.

“When we finally met with the Jedi, Colonel Tobin arrived with some armed soldiers and interrupted us,” said Brianna. “There was a short battle, but the Jedi managed to slip away in the chaos.”

“I bet Silas wasn’t too happy with Tobin,” said Jaq.

“You could say that,” replied Brianna, trying to hide the small grin that wanted to appear as she recalled the meeting.

-Darth Malvolis held the Colonel off the ground against the wall of the cantina, his hand wrapped around the Onderonian’s neck in a vise grip. “I’m going to give you five seconds to tell me why you should still be breathing in six.”-

Jaq cocked his head slightly and furrowed his brow. “Then why did Silas agree to work with him?”

“It wasn’t easy,” said Brianna. There was an ounce of pity in her voice. “Tobin wasn’t the most skilled diplomat.”

“Hostile negotiations, huh?” asked Jaq with a half-grin.

Mandalore laughed. “I though Carver was going to rip his throat out. But you’ve got to give the Colonel some credit; not many people can still negotiate while they’re dangling in the air with their windpipe being crushed.”

-Tobin’s words were barely audible. “I’m sorry for any inconvenience we may have cauuu-”

“Inconvenience?” Malvolis repeated slowly, tightening his grip. “You put the lives of my men in jeopardy.”

Tobin continued his attempts to pry the fingers from around his neck. “I was just following my orders!”

Malvolis bared his teeth. “You should have anticipated the consequences.”-

“But Silas didn’t kill him?” asked Jaq.

“It took some convincing, but we managed to get through to him,” said Brianna.

-Malvolis released his grip, and Tobin dropped to the floor. “Start talking,” he said, his sulfur gaze fixed on the Colonel.-

“All right,” said Jaq. “So what’s this deal we have with them?”

“We help Vaklu in his war against the queen,” answered Mandalore, “and Vaklu delivers the Jedi to us.”

Jaq slowly shook his head. “I have a bad feeling about this. So what else happened?” Before anyone could continue, his comlink went off.

“Jaq, come in; it’s Mira.”

Jaq reached into his pocket and fished out the comlink. “Nice timing, Mira. Silas just got back.”

“I thought I saw their ship. Guess who else is back.”

Jaq raised an eyebrow. “Visas?”

“Yep.”

Finally, some good news, thought Jaq. “Where is she now?”

“In her bunk. She barely made it across the clearing before she collapsed. I had to carry her back to the ship. She was muttering something about power and dark side and...something. Anyway, where’s Silas?”

Jaq let out a worried chuckle. “He’s, uh,…around.”

“Well find him and tell him to get down here. He’s bound to have questions for her.”

“Sure,” he said through a forced grin. “I’ll get right on that.” The link went dead. “Crap,” he said, putting away the comlink. I’d rather pull adhesive strips off an angry wookiee.

“We should probably go ahead and tell Silas,” said Brianna sounding both defeated and resolute. “He won’t enjoy learning that we kept this from him.”

Jaq stared at her for a minute, trying to find some reason to put off getting back in Carver’s line of sight so soon but found none. “Yeah, I guess,” he said finally. “Hopefully a little good news will lighten his mood.”

“Well, if you plan on catching up with the General,” said Bao-Dur, wearing a small knowing grin, “you two better start running.”

“Us two?” asked Jaq. “You’re not coming?”

“Me? No.” The Iridonian gave him another wry grin. “No, I won’t be able to keep up with you two. So I’ll stay here; you two go ahead.” He causally waved them off.

“Right,” said Jaq dryly. He turned to Brianna and sighed. “Well, let’s do this.” After her wordless acknowledgement, the two took off after their fuming leader.

“Iridonian,” Mandalore spoke suddenly, dragging the Zabrak’s attention from his retreating comrades, “I’ve got a few questions for you.”

It was relatively easy for Jaq and Brianna to track Silas; all they had to do was follow the trail of bewildered Mandalorians. And yet, even at a full run, it still took them almost ten minutes to finally locate the black-robed man. Carver had stormed clear across the Mandalorian camp, crossed the perimeter checkpoint, and was heading down the western trail. The Ebon Hawk was down the southern trail.

Luckily, he hadn’t gone too far down the trail before Jaq and Brianna caught up with him. They found him marching down the jungle trail; he hadn’t lost any of the fury in his stride. More than that, the anger seemed to be rolling off him with every flap of his robe, chilling the air. So before they got too close, Jaq decided to make sure Silas knew they were there; no need for a repeat of his last encounter with the man.

“Silas!” Jaq yelled. “Silas! Hey, Silas!”

Carver finally came to a halt, sending a ripple of irritation through the Force. “What is it, Jaq?” he asked, not bothering to look back at them.

Jaq gave Brianna a quick look of worry, which she deftly returned. Turning back to face Silas, Jaq decided it was best not to try Carver’s patience so he went straight to the point. “Visas is back.”

Carver spun on his heel the instant he heard the Miraluka’s name; his virulent gaze sent shivers through them. “Where is she?” His voice seemed to have momentarily dropped an octave.

“She’s resting in the Hawk,” Jaq answered, somewhat hurriedly. Carver’s eyes narrowed, and Jaq felt a twinge of panic over his poor choice of words.

“More like she’s recovering,” Brianna quickly corrected. “Mira contacted us and told us she had collapsed.”

Carver’s expression lost some of its rage as it returned to its more familiar neutral state. “When did you learn this?”

“A few minutes ago,” said Brianna.

Carver’s head tilted up and to the side a fraction of a degree, and for a brief second, his expression seemed to soften, though only enough to be noticed by someone who knew him well. Then he swung his head back upright, as quickly as it came, the softness vanished.

Without another word, Carver spun to his left and walked off the path and into the jungle, leaving Jaq and Brianna standing there half-stunned, half-confused, and watching the spot where their leader had disappeared. They didn’t remain for long; once they realized Carver wasn’t coming back, the duo started after him.

The march back to the Ebon Hawk was filled with awkward, tense silence. The quiet wasn’t just limited to the three humans making their way through the underbrush; the dark ripples in the Force that radiated from Carver made the birds flee towards distant skies and the beasts slink away in terror. Jaq and Brianna, too, felt the urge to seek safety, but they would allow themselves was to give Silas a minimum amount of lead. Any communication between them was limited to a few discrete facial movements, usually to convey their shared senses of nervousness and confusion. They knew Silas wouldn’t remain silent for long. The only question was what would his reaction be to the news that was waiting for him?

Finally the area around them began to lighten, indicating that a break in the jungle was just ahead of them. When they entered the clearing, they found the Ebon Hawk was not exactly where they had left her. The ship was about ten meters closer to the northern jungle wall…and turned completely around. Carver paused for a second when he noticed the Hawk’s new orientation; apparently someone forgot to inform him that his ship was fully functional again.

A woman appeared on the far side of the ship and started toward them, her fiery hair seemed a few shades lighter in the midday sun. Mira readied herself as the distance between her and the approaching trio rapidly closed; even at a distance, she felt Carver’s sulfur gaze. This is going to be fun. Why does he always come down here when he’s pissed? Had Carver been in a slightly better mood, she would have donned her cocky grin and asked him exactly that. But the little voice of reason in her head was telling her: “No. No. No. Don’t.” Fortunately, Mira didn’t have to worry about coming up with another greeting; Carver beat her to the punch.

“Where is she, Mira?” His voice was demanding, intimidating, and articulate; his feet were planted at shoulder’s length, and his arms were crossed: the perfect imitation of a Nar Shaddaa interrogator. Good thing she’d had plenty of experience in dealing with them.

“I’ve got her in the medical room,” Mira answered calmly. “She’s unconscious, but she’s breathing.”

Carver seemed unphased by the Huntress’s answer. “For how long?”

“I don’t know…about an hour, maybe little less.” She glanced behind Carver towards Jaq and Brianna; they were doing their best not to look at either her or Silas for too long.

“Have you tried waking her?” pressed Carver.

Mira’s gaze snapped back to the man in black, and she noted that he had yet to blink. “I knew you were coming, but…” She shrugged. “She’s out.”

“Fine.” His gaze drifted back to her, and he finally blinked. He glanced at the leather holster on her right hip; resting inside was a shiny silver weapon too large to be a blaster pistol with a contoured handle. “You have your weapon with you. Good.”

The comment caught Mira a little by surprise, but she didn’t let it show. “Why? We going to do some more training?”

Carver allowed himself a very small grin. “Not exactly.” He broke eye contact with her and looked straight ahead. “Jaq!” Carver waited until the dark-haired man was standing next to Mira; a quick look to his right revealed Brianna now stood beside him. His smile widened, then his gaze jumped to Jaq and Mira. “I trust you two have spent your time wisely.” It wasn’t a question, so there wasn’t a need for either of them to respond. After a couple of seconds, Carver maneuvered himself so that the Ebon Hawk was at his back then shucked the outer layer of his robe. “Let’s see what you’ve learned.”

“What, now?” asked Mira. “What about Visas?”

“You said she was ‘out,’ did you not? There’s not much to see.” Carver raised his arm and bent his elbow, preparing to fire his lightsaber into his hand.

Jaq looked from Silas to Brianna, then back to Silas. “So, is this going to be two-on-two?”

“No,” replied Carver. “Two-on-one.” He looked over at Brianna. “Brianna, I want you to watch this. Pay close attention; what you observe will be the basis of future lessons.”

A look of mild disappointment appeared on the Echani’s face. “If you are sure.” She took a few steps back.

“Aw, come on,” said Mira. “Let her fight. It’s obvious she wants to.”

“That’s not what this is about,” Carver countered. “I have already seen her in combat; I know she can do. It’s you two that I need to focus on right now.”

Of the two of them, Jaq seemed to be the most bothered. “So why am I-“

“Because,” Carver interjected. “I need to see if you can handle yourself against an advanced opponent.”

“Silas,” said Brianna, her voice elevated and steady, “I have another idea.”

Carver arched his eyebrow. “Go ahead.”

“I think it would be better if we conducted one-on-one drills,” she said.

“You do?”

Brianna nodded. “If you really want to test Jaq, why don’t I give Mira some instructions that are closer to her level, no offense intended Mira.” She gave the Huntress a small bow.

Mira shot her a mild warning look. “Whatever.” She glanced back over at Carver, grinned, then looked back at Brianna. “Though I like that idea.” She turned to Jaq and patted him twice on the shoulder. “Good luck, flyboy,” she said, walking towards Brianna. “You’re gonna need it.” The two women headed further into the clearing.

Jaq smirked at Mira’s back then turned to Silas and immediately lost the sneer. Carver’s expression was cold, focused, dangerous. He watched Carver flex the fingers on his upturned hand and the lightsaber spring into his grip. Jaq dropped his grey outer robe and unclipped his double-blade.

“I can no longer afford to go easy on you, Jaq,” said Carver, bringing the unlit blade level in front of him. “Your training increases…” The crimson saber burst from the hilt. “…now.”

Half a heartbeat later, he charged Jaq, not waiting for his student to activate his bladestaff. Jaq did trigger his weapon, but the blades didn’t extend fast enough to intercept Carver’s attack. Half a second before Carver’s saber cleaved his head, Jaq felt a sickeningly familiar tightness in his throat. His eyes squeezed shut in reflex as his respiratory system was shut down once again.

“I warned you, Jaq,” Carver’s voice echoed in his ears. “This will be the last…time.”

Jaq felt himself flying through the air, but he could breathe again. He opened his eyes and inhaled sharply. Using the Force, he righted himself and braced for the coming impact. He hit the ground, immediately threw his weight forward and his double-saber to the side, and slid back about two meters. Jaq made sure his bladestaff was back in front of him before he diverted his attention over to Silas.

“I gave you plenty of time to ready your weapon, Jaq,” said Carver. “Future enemies will not.” He spun his single blade in a figure-8 then held it forward. “Including me.” Carver stepped in and brought his saber back behind his head.

Jaq settled into a defensive stance with his double-blade off-centered slightly to his right and waited. He knew better than to attack first despite the natural aggression of double-bladed combat. When he faced Silas, all the rules went out the airlock, and he was at a permanent disadvantage, partially due to the fact that the psychological aspect of his weapon had no effect on his teacher, but mostly due to the fact that the man seemed to know more about Jaq’s style of fighting than he did. It was more irritating than discouraging; he prided himself on being a killer, a Jedi killer, and yet standing in front of him was a former Jedi, his master…teacher, yes, but even so, this man was always at least two swings ahead of him.

“Very good, Jaq,” said Carver, wearing a dark grin. “You remember.”

Jaq smiled for a moment as he absorbed the small complement. The lesson was an easy one; he’d learned it a decade ago: control your opponent; force his hand; make him move how you want him to move.

Carver angled the blade down towards the ground. “Now, let’s see how well you react.” He launched himself at Jaq, bringing his lightsaber around in a wide arc. Jaq stepped in and brought his double-blade up, catching Carver’s saber with his forward blade. Carver immediately pushed up, rotated his lightsaber beneath and behind the opposing weapon, shoved forward, then intercepted the rear blade. The maneuver was quick, and its message was clear: he was going to control the flow of this fight.

Jaq’s right eye twitched, and he reversed his swing. Carver easily blocked the stroke, angling his blade back slightly to let Jaq’s blade slide off his as the apprentice twisted his bladestaff around over his head. As the ends of the blade came around again and again, Carver batted them back, denying Jaq the chance to build up the momentum he needed to launch into the more dangerous sequences.

Jaq hated this part of the fight, hated the fact that Carver could make him look like a fool, like a child with a lightsaber. He’d spent years training to fight Jedi. And he had killed them…quickly, easily, efficiently. Granted, not with a lightsaber, but he was no stranger to double-bladed combat. And yet, against Carver, none of that seemed to matter. All his years of combat meant nothing whenever he crossed blades with the guy, and it frustrated him. Every one of his attacks was countered, intercepted, even steered, and every time he attacked, he seemed to slow down a little more…

What Jaq didn’t know was that Carver had set him up. Confronting Jaq with the prospect of facing an advanced opponent, Carver had put him in a mindset of total offense, end the battle before you are overwhelmed. But he then shut down that offense with series after series of precisely-timed intercepts, using speed instead of power, that were sure to aggravate the once-Scoundrel. And to make sure Jaq was riled, Carver decided to fight dirty. The fatigue Jaq was starting to feel was actually caused by an illusion. He wasn’t getting slower; Carver was getting faster. Ever so subtly, he had started to pick up his speed, parrying incoming attacks a fraction of a second faster each time. What Carver had done, simply put, was lure his apprentice into a trap, a judgment trap. He hadn’t been concerned with his student’s skills; he was evaluating his focus. Sometimes in the heat of battle, killing your opponent takes priority over everything else, and you lose your awareness. He didn’t have to figure out everything that was going on, but Jaq did have to realize that his current strategy wasn’t working and that breaking from combat, putting distance between Carver and himself, was his best solution.

It was one of the lessons Carver had struggled with the most during his days as a padawan. Consequently, it was one of the few he still regarded as worthy of passing to his students: clarity of mind while in battle. Victory in combat against his old Jedi master had been near-impossible in the early years of his training, and the man had frequently pushed Carver to the point of desperation. His attacks, while fast, steadily became more sloppy, weak, and erratic. But the endgame occurred when the tunnel-vision set in. His focus and attention shattered beyond recovery, and he no longer even tried to read his opponent. Had he been in a real battle, Carver would have been killed easily. Fortunately, his master was kind enough to simply disarm him, floor him, and force him to meditate until his clarity returned. Then they would start over.

Now it was Jaq’s turn to learn this lesson, and so far, the apprentice was showing many of the signs of desperation: sweating, unfocused vision, erratic reaction times, and random but predictable attack vectors. But there was one way for Carver to know for sure. He steadily steered Jaq’s attacks into the proper positions, and waited for him to make the test blow. Then it came: a shoulder-to-hip slash. Carver angled his blade and intercepted the attack, but instead of breaking the lock, he pushed Jaq’s bladestaff into an upright position, forming a cross with their weapons. This was it; if Jaq retained enough clarity, he would jump back now, take a breath and…he didn’t. Instead he tried to knock away Carver’s saber with the other end of his weapon.

Carver was disappointed in Jaq; he had lost himself in the heat of battle. While emotions like anger and rage could fuel your aggression, increase your strength and your power, if you let emotions turn to desperation, you’ll blind yourself to the obvious and become vulnerable. It was an easy mistake to make; one made by countless students in the past and will surely be made by countless students in the future. But it was still disappointing to witness. As a padawan, his master had warned him of the dangers of giving over fully to aggression: that it would erode him, lead him to the dark side and most likely to his death. But such warnings held no merit for him now. Like many Jedi teachings, this one was more of a half-truth. Aggression never weakened him; it was panic and loss of focus that did. And although desperation wasn’t the dark side, the line between them was thin.

Carver had to end the fight now, before his apprentice did something permanent to himself. Parrying another swing, he flexed the fingers on his left hand, causing his second lightsaber to shoot into his hand. The silver blade sprang to life and caught the leading blade in Jaq’s next swing. Carver saw the flash of surprise in his eyes and used the moment of bewilderment to reach across and catch the other end of the bladestaff with his red saber. In a violent twist, Carver forced the double-blade end over end until it was wrenched from Jaq’s grip. The crimson blades flickered out as the weapon spiraled away, leaving Jaq totally vulnerable to his next strike. Carver reversed the grips on his weapons and slammed his right knee into Jaq’s gut. His apprentice started to double over, but Carver socked him square in the forehead, knocking him flat on his back.

Carver couldn’t hear Jaq’s hard breathing, but he could see his body shaking from his exertions. However, Carver wasn’t done with him yet, no; he was going to burn this lesson into his student. He stepped over Jaq’s right foot and stood by his shoulder, deciding to pin Jaq’s arm under his foot…just in case. Then, in a slow gentle arc, he swung his red saber out and down, aiming for Jaq’s neck, but in a show of extreme precision, he stopped the blade mere centimeters above his throat. Jaq sealed his eyes in reflex and tensed; he could feel the heat of the lightsaber underneath the entire left side of his jaw, singeing his skin and the short hairs that sprouted there.

“You’re dead, Rand,” stated Carver in a cold tone. “Dead because you lost control. Of the battle and yourself. I didn’t expect this kind of mistake from you.” He went silent for a minute, watching Jaq grit his teeth; if nothing else, the pain of this lesson was sinking in. “You know what our enemies are capable of; is this how you plan to confront them?” Carver shook his head. “I should just dump you back on Nar Shaddaa and spare you from the short, painful future that awaits you…since you are clearly not taking my lessons seriously.” He knew Jaq wouldn’t dare try to argue with him now, not with a lightsaber at his throat. So this was probably his last chance to make Jaq understand the magnitude of their situation.

“I cannot,” Carver continued, “I will not, tolerate anything less than one-hundred percent from you, Jaq! You will not survive if you do not commit yourself fully; you know this, you’ve acknowledged it. Now you need to act!” His right hand twitched, and he heard Jaq suck in air between his teeth. “If you are indeed committed to this mission, to me, to this path you’ve chosen, you will pick yourself up, you will continue this exercise, and you will stay focused.” Finally Carver moved the blade away from Jaq’s throat and stepped off his arm. He deactivated both lightsabers and slid the left hilt back into its cradle. He returned his attention to his prone apprentice; the burn left by his blade was borderline severe. Jaq’s skin hadn’t blistered, but the area running from underneath his jaw line to middle of his throat was stained several deep shades of red.

Jaq pried his eyes open and moved his hand up to give his burn a few investigative touches. It hurt. Not like hell, but it hurt. So he rolled over, slid his right leg under him, and pushed himself to his feet. He turned his head, ignoring the sharp radiating pain, and looked Carver square in the eyes. The look Jaq wore could have been interpreted as either controlled anger or resolve, but Carver didn’t care which. The matter was settled; Jaq made his choice. Carver’s trademark half-grin slid gracefully over his face.

“Good,” he said in a low voice, laying his hand over Jaq’s right collar bone. “I knew I wasn’t training a quitter.” Carver let his hand slide off the man’s shoulder as he turned his back to him, and took a few steps forward. “Collect your weapon, Jaq, and we’ll-” A double snap-hiss reached his ears, and his half-grin morphed into a full one. He flicked his arm out, ignited his red lightsaber, and spun around to catch the leading blade of Jaq’s bladestaff. “If I see a repeat of that last performance, Jaq,” warned Carver, still wearing his grin, “you will need more than a burn pack to treat your injury.” Jaq scoffed, letting his own small grin appear, and lashed out with the other end of his weapon, forcing Carver to duck to avoid the swing.

Nearer to the center of the clearing, Brianna and Mira stood watching the two men resume their duel, their own drills on hold while something far more interesting was taking place.

Mira held her arms across her chest. “I’m glad that wasn’t me,” she said, just loud enough for Brianna to hear.

A wry grin appeared on Brianna’s face and she copied the Huntress’s stance. “He’s such a liar.” Mira glanced over at the Echani with a raised eyebrow. “Silas,” Brianna continued. “He said he wasn’t going to go easy on Jaq.”

Mira’s interest was peaked. “You’re saying that’s what he’s like when he’s toying with you?” She turned back to the battle; the guys seemed to be a lot more animated this time. They were giving ground, taking ground, sweeping low, flipping back; it was a veritable whirlwind of red light. “I’m really glad that wasn’t me.”

“It’s not so much toying,” said Brianna, canting her head in thought, “as it is teaching.”

Mira raised a finger. “Oh. So he’s one of those throw-you-to-the-rancors-and-hope-you-can-survive kinds of teacher.”

“Sometimes experience is the best way to learn.” Brianna watched Jaq jump away from Silas, then spin his double-blade around his body to gain momentum before returning to the fight. “Besides, Silas doesn’t throw you the rancors unless he thinks you can handle them.”

Mira smirked. “And here I thought he just like beating up on Jaq.” Carver had arced his blade in front of him, catching Jaq’s bladestaff in a vertical position, but instead of attacking Carver again, Jaq vaulted over him, angling his double-blade to keep’s Carver’s weapon in check. The move took Mira by surprise; her eyebrows jumped. “Not bad.” As Jaq began his descent, Silas started moving as well. Keeping their blades locked, he twisted around and slammed his foot into Jaq’s gut; the impact knocked him back much farther than it should have. Both women winced at the blow. “Hm. Force kick,” noted the redhead. “I bet that hurt.” She turned to the Echani. “So, Carver really believes Jaq can handle all that?”

Brianna squeezed her lips together. “Jaq’s skills are…commendable,” she admitted, slowly. “He knows more than he lets on; easy to underestimate and overlook.” She paused for a moment. “But he’s lazy, crude.”

“Has no brain-mouth filter,” Mira added. “Yeah. That describes a lot of men I knew. You get used to it. Or you jab him with a Bothan stunner and lock him in a storage closet for a few days.”

Brianna gave her a questioning look, but Mira kept a neutral expression and chose not to elaborate. She glanced back at the match between Silas and Jaq, which showed little signs of slowing down soon.

“So, how’d it happen?” Mira asked abruptly.

“How did what happen?”

“Carver. I also knew plenty of guys like him, and they all had one thing in common: short tempers. So, what set him off?”

Brianna sighed; she’d just finished telling this story. “Ready your weapon, Mira,” she said, drawing the vibrosword strapped to her right shin guard. She turned and put some distance between them. “I will fill you in on the details while we run drills.”

Mira pulled her weapon, dubbed the pistol-saber, from its holster and ignited the orange blade. She dropped into the offensive stance Carver had shown her and grinned. “You ready?”

Brianna angled her sword with the tip over her left shoulder. “Shall I start from the beginning?”

-3 hours later-

“What did you encounter?” Silas was kneeling next to the bed Visas Marr was currently occupying, the only bed in the medbay, staring at her cloth facemask. She had regained consciousness barely five minutes ago and would have returned to the starboard crew quarters immediately had Silas not been there to stop her. He was eager for answers, but he also didn’t want her moving around too soon for her own sake.

Visas stared straight ahead, trying to pick through the fog of her memories with great difficulty. “I cannot remember much.”

“Try,” said Carver in an even tone.

Visas’ mental struggling became audible. “There was…a…a building…cold…dark…in the Force.”

“What was it?” Carver asked, leaning forward slightly.

The Miraluka placed her head in her hand. “A…temple? ...No…”

“What happened to you?” Something was setting off alarms in Carver’s head. It was unlike Visas to be so vague, so uncertain.

She hung her head. “I cannot…remember.”

“You must remember something. You were gone for weeks.” He paused as Visas continued to try and clear her clouded mind. “What about your injuries? Who caused you pain?”

After about a minute of frustrated searching, the blind woman’s head lifted slightly. “A droid…no…a man…He had a…synthetic voice.”

“What about him? What did he look like?”

Visas shook her head. “I only saw a mask. He felt…familiar.”

Carver furrowed his brow. “Familiar? How?”

“…In the Force…very familiar.” Visas inhaled sharply. “My master! He is a servant of my master.”

“The lord of hunger,” said Carver, ignoring Visas’ choice of words to identify him. She still hadn’t given him the Sith's name, but now was not the time to address either concern.

“Yes.”

“What was he doing?”

“…Gathering…”

Carver straightened. “What? People? The Force?”

Visas struggled, but could not find any answer. She shook her head in resignation. “…Just…darkness.”

Carver let out a light sigh. As much as he hated to admit it, he probably was going to get anything more from her today. “That will be enough for now, Visas. Get some rest; perhaps more will come.” He rose to his feet, and turned to leave.

“I am sorry I cannot remember more, my lord,” came Visas’ small voice from behind him.

Silas turned to face her, displaying neither anger nor sadness; just calm regret. “No. The fault is mine. I should not have let you go there alone.”

“No, my lord,” said the Miraluka. “I knew I had to be alone. That is why…that is why I was allowed to return, I believe.”

The wheels in Silas’ head started turning. “This man was a servant of your old master. Perhaps he thought you were still one as well.”

“That is a logical assumption. It would-”

“Enough for now, Visas,” said Silas, reflexively holding up his hand. “There will be time for further discussions later. Now rest.” He headed out of the medbay.

“Yes, my lord.”

Carver sealed the hatch behind him, and walked into the main cabin, letting some of his checked anger finally bleed through his expression. Unacceptable! Completely unacceptable! He leaned over the large display console in the center of the room, propping himself up with his hands, and let his head drop. Things were not how they were supposed to be. Not with Visas, and certainly not with Master Kavar. He wasn’t supposed to get away; Kavar wasn’t supposed to escape that cantina. He had the Jedi right where he wanted him: a place with tightly-packed civilians. It was the perfect set up. Kavar’s movements would be limited to avoid collateral damage, a lethal handicap considering Carver had enough explosives charges with him to level half the building. Had Tobin not shown up... Carver’s nostrils flared as he recalled how the Colonel’s soldiers stormed the place, stirring up enough chaos and confusion for Kavar to slip away. But out of everything Tobin did, the one thing that had angered Carver the most was the last thing the Colonel said to him.

“I have two patrols of soldiers waiting outside. They have orders to kill you on sight, but they won’t stand a chance against you.”

It was unnecessary. Irresponsible. Wasteful.

“Appearances have to be maintained,” countered the Colonel. “It cannot be known that we have support from a Jedi, even a fallen one; not yet. We have to be able to quell rumors that you are our ally.”

Turning the city’s automated defenses against us would have been sufficient, Tobin. What you did was disgusting. As a former general, it burned him to see Tobin willing to throw away the lives of loyal men like that. Soldiers are not toys to be played with and discarded at a whim. Thirty soldiers massacred just to maintain a political illusion. Disgraceful.

“Revan, you lying Huttspawn!”

Carver was startled slightly by the sound of his own voice echoing in his head. It was a memory from long ago, back when he was a general of the Republic. Oddly enough, it was a memory from the first time he set foot on his Force-forsaken Hell moon. It was right after...he shook away the memories that threatened to resurface. Now was not the time to dwell on the past.

Silas raised his head and stared at the moving image of Onderon floating above the holoprojector. At least Kavar was isolated on the planet; he couldn’t leave or send any transmissions, meaning he wouldn’t be able to alert Zez Kai-El or Lonna Vash that Carver was out to kill them. That would be a disaster; the Jedi would fade back into the shadows, and it would take years or decades to track them all down. The Sith would be easier to find; they might even come to him if he made himself a nice target. But, even there he had a problem; his students weren’t yet ready to face the army of Sith warriors. Carver turned his head towards the corridor leading to the garage and starboard crew quarters; the sounds of conversation came drifting in from that direction. That needs to change...

to be continued...

End Note: Maybe it's me being my own worst critic, but I feel compelled to assure everyone that I am keeping a close eye on Carver's skills, powers, etc. He may have completely humiliated/dominated Jaq, but I will not let him become a broken character, writer's promise. The next chapter is "Scarred," and I've already begun working on it.