Dathomir...
The modified star-ship cruiser descended through Dathomir's atmosphere like a falling star, its engines cutting a low, rumbling thunder through the oppressive crimson sky. The ship's hull shuddered as it pierced the upper atmospheric layers, buffeted by winds that carried the scent of a swamp, a smell that seemed to seep through the air filtration systems despite their best efforts.
As the vessel touched down near a jagged rift valley, the landing struts sank slightly into blackened soil that was slick with moisture and the accumulated rot of millennia. The ground itself seemed wrong somehow, not quite solid, not quite liquid, but something in between, a surface that gave reluctantly under weight and seemed to exhale a faint mist with each disturbance.
The red mist that was Dathomir's signature rolled endlessly across the landscape, clinging to the land as if the planet itself exhaled something dark and mystical with every breath. It moved with an unnatural quality, sometimes flowing like water, other times coiling like serpents, always present, always watching. The mist caught the crimson light from above and scattered it in strange patterns, creating shadows that moved independently of their sources and shapes that appeared and disappeared at the edge of vision.
In the far distance, murky swamps bubbled and hissed, their surfaces broken by twisted roots and skeletal trees that clawed toward the blood-red sky like the grasping fingers of the damned. The surrounding swamp water remained eerily still between the bubbling patches, its surface reflecting the crimson sky in a way that made it look like pools of fresh blood. The trees themselves were gnarled, their bark blackened and cracked, their branches bare of leaves but covered in strange growths that pulsed faintly with bioluminescent light.
The air was thick and heavy, pressing down with an almost physical weight. It carried the scent of sulfur and rotting vegetation, of damp earth and something else, something indefinable that made the back of the throat tighten and the skin prickle with unease. This was a world steeped in the Dark Side, a Nexus in the Force itself, where the natural order had been bent and shaped by centuries of dark magicks and ancient rituals.
The boarding ramp descended with a hydraulic hiss, and Seris stepped out first, her boots touching the blackened soil with a soft squelch. Her long, elegant elven ears twitched involuntarily as a chill ran down her spine, a primal warning that something about this place was fundamentally wrong. She kept her posture straight and her face composed, projecting the calm confidence she always had, but her senses screamed that danger lurked in every shadow, every curl of mist, every twisted tree.
The crimson light from the sky reflected in her silver-white hair, making it seem to glow with an otherworldly radiance that contrasted sharply with the darkness surrounding them. Her silver eyes scanned the horizon with practiced wariness, taking in every detail, cataloging every potential threat, every possible avenue of escape.
"This planet is... different in the Force," Seris said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking too loudly might awaken something best left sleeping. "The air feels heavy. Wrong."
Shaak Ti emerged beside her, her orange skin seeming to darken in the crimson light, her blue and white montrals catching the red glow and vibrating slightly as they sensed the disturbances in the Force that permeated this world. Her eyes were wary, alert, the eyes of a predator who had suddenly found herself in another predator's territory.
"Yes, my Padawan," Shaak Ti said, her voice carrying the weight of experience and caution. "Dathomir is steeped in the Dark Side of the Force. The very ground beneath our feet has been saturated with dark magicks for thousands of years. You must be careful not to let it consume you, not to let it seep into your thoughts and twist your perceptions."
Seris nodded, her hand moving unconsciously to rest on the lightsaber at her belt, drawing comfort from its familiar weight. "Yes, Master. I will be mindful of it."
Master Fay followed them down the ramp, her presence a calming influence against the oppressive atmosphere of Dathomir. Her expression was unreadable.
"This is your mission, Seris," Fay said calmly, her voice carrying clearly despite the oppressive atmosphere. "So lead the way. We are merely here to support you, to observe, and to intervene only if absolutely necessary."
Seris inclined her head respectfully, feeling the weight of responsibility settle on her shoulders. She pointed toward the horizon, where a massive structure loomed in the distance, barely visible through the swirling red mist.
"Yes, Master," Seris replied, her voice steady despite the anxiety coiling in her gut. "Cain said the Nightsisters' lair is a stone fortress built into the landscape near the swamps. Since we landed close to such a structure, that direction is where we will search first."
Fay nodded once, her expression approving. "Then let us not linger. The longer we remain exposed, the more time we give potential enemies to prepare."
The three Jedi moved forward, their boots crunching softly against stone and ash as the red mist thickened around them, coiling up their legs like living things. The ground beneath their feet was uneven, treacherous, a mixture of volcanic rock, compacted ash, and patches of that strange, semi-liquid soil that seemed to pulse with a faint, sickly warmth.
As they walked, the fortress slowly came into clearer view, emerging from the mist like a nightmare taking solid form. It was massive, a jagged stone structure that looked as if it had been carved directly from the living rock of the planet itself. The architecture was ancient only a dark opening that looked like wound in the stone.
As they approached the entrance, a massive archway carved with symbols that hurt to look at directly, Seris slowed, her instincts screaming warnings. She reached out with the Force, extending her senses toward the fortress, searching for any sign of life, any indication of what awaited them inside.
And she felt... nothing.
No life, big or small. Nothing itself. Like there was a void where the Force should have been, an absence so complete it was almost painful to perceive. It was as if the fortress existed in a bubble outside of reality, cut off from the natural flow of the Force that connected all living things.
Seris stopped abruptly, her hand shooting up in a warning gesture. "Masters... something is wrong. I don't sense anyone. I don't even sense the Force from there."
Fay's eyes sharpened, her ancient gaze focusing on the fortress with renewed intensity. "Agreed. Remain alert. This could be a trap, or it could be a technique we're unfamiliar with. Either way, we proceed with extreme caution."
Shaak Ti's montrals vibrated more intensely, her head turning slowly as her eyes searched for any movements or sounds her enhanced senses could pick up. Her hand moved to rest on her lightsaber hilt, ready to ignite it at the first sign of danger. "I sense... something. Not life, exactly, but a presence. A watching."
The mist around them shifted unnaturally, coiling and thickening as if it were alive, or being controlled by an unseen intelligence. The temperature seemed to drop several degrees, and the air grew even heavier, pressing down on them with an almost physical weight.
Then, from the darkness of the fortress entrance, a tall figure emerged, moving with a grace that seemed at odds with the oppressive atmosphere. Mother Talzin stepped forward into the crimson light, her presence commanding despite the absence Seris had felt moments ago. She was tall and imposing, her pale skin marked with intricate tattoos that seemed to writhe and shift in the red light. Her eyes glowed with an eerie green luminescence, and her elaborate headdress cast strange shadows across her angular features.
How could she be there and I not sense anything before? Seris thought, confusion and unease warring in her mind.
Talzin's eyes gazed at the three Jedi, as the red mist bent subtly around her form, responding to her will. When she spoke, her voice carried a quality that seemed to resonate in the bones, a sound that was both beautiful and terrifying.
"What do we have here, two Jedi Masters and one frightened Padawan. To what do I owe this... intrusion?"
Seris straightened, forcing down the fear that threatened to overwhelm her, and spoke firmly, projecting a confidence she didn't entirely feel. "Mother Talzin. I am a friend of your student, Cain. He has been trying to reach you regarding you and the Nightsisters, along with the Singing Mountain Clan. He wishes to bring you into our praxeum, to unite the Force users of the galaxy and learn under a new way together too see and understand the Force."
Talzin's expression did not change, her face remaining an unreadable mask. The silence stretched for several heartbeats.
"I know this, child," she replied coldly, her voice carrying a dismissive edge to it. "And since I made no effort to respond to my student's messages, I would have thought my answer was clear. But let me make it unmistakable now, so there can be no confusion."
She took another step forward, and the mist seemed to recoil from her presence, creating a clear circle around her feet. "I see no reason to join this 'new order' of Jedi, or whatever you children call yourselves. Your battles are not mine. Your wars, your politics, your grand visions of a united galaxy, they mean nothing to me and my sisters."
Her gaze locked onto Seris with an intensity that made Seris want to take a step back.
"When the time is right, and only when the moment demands it, I will assist my student. But I will only help Cain, not his order, not his allies, not his grand vision. Only him."
The air grew heavier, the oppressive atmosphere intensifying. The red mist began to swirl more rapidly, forming patterns that seemed almost deliberate, almost meaningful.
"So take that as your answer," Talzin continued, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, "and leave. Now. While I am still being generous."
Shaak Ti stepped forward. "Mother Talzin, Cain told us you were willing to work with us, that you understood the importance of what we're trying to build. Now you say you will only act when you deem it necessary? That you'll help only Cain and no one else?"
Talzin did not answer immediately. Instead, she simply stared at Shaak Ti, her expression unreadable. The silence stretched uncomfortably. Then Fay spoke, her ancient voice carrying a weight that seemed to cut through the oppressive atmosphere.
"Mother Talzin," Fay said calmly, her tone respectful but firm, "I have a question, if you would indulge an old woman's curiosity."
Talzin turned her head slightly, studying Fay with renewed interest. There was a flicker of something in her eyes, recognition perhaps, or respect for one who had walked the galaxy for as long as she had walked Dathomir.
"Ask, ancient one," Talzin replied, her tone softening almost imperceptibly. "It is the least I can do for one of Cain's teachers... and for someone so old and wise as yourself. For one who has have lived long enough to see empires rise and fall, I can show you that common courtesy, at least."
Fay's voice remained steady. "Is this refusal because Cain insisted if not demanded that you release the Nightbrothers from servitude? And that you and your fellow Nightsisters acknowledge and attempt to atone for generations of suffering inflicted upon them?"
"That is... an oversimplification," Talzin said slowly, her words carefully chosen. "But yes, there is truth in what you say. There is no peaceful resolution to that wound, ancient one. The Nightbrothers have been enslaved for generations, treated as little more than breeding stock and disposable warriors. The hatred they will have, will run deeply, and the woman will not easily like to treat these men who were once there slaves as their equal. He and you are fools to believe otherwise, fools to think that words and good intentions can heal centuries of abuse and suffering."
She paused, her gaze becoming distant, as if seeing something far beyond the three Jedi standing before her. "But I know of his plan to change the galaxy. I know of his vision, his dream of a better future. And I'm sure you have noticed how powerful he is in the Force, the pull he has on those around him. Or should I say, the contradictory nature of his power."
Fay's expression remained calm, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes Seris noticed, acknowledgment perhaps, or understanding. "I have noticed certain feelings in our connection through the Force," she admitted. "I would be lying if I said I understood them completely. He is compelling in an almost mystical way, drawing people to him, inspiring loyalty and devotion that goes beyond mere charisma or leadership ability. And the way he draws out a person potential is inspiring."
She paused, her voice taking on a softer quality. "I treat him like a son, in a sense. A feeling I know nothing of, having never had children of my own. And like you, I know his truth, the secret of his true origins. But despite that, or perhaps because of it, I believe he is capable of great change for good, capable of reshaping the galaxy into something better than what it has been."
Talzin's eyes narrowed, and when she spoke, her voice carried a warning edge. "If you know his truth and notice the feeling in the Force, you should also know he is capable of great change in either direction. Almost like the Sith Emperor of old, Vitiate, who could bend entire worlds to his will, who could consume the life force of billions to fuel his own immortality."
She took a step closer, her presence becoming more oppressive. "And unlike you, I have noticed this influence he has, but I will not let it consume me as it has consumed you and the others. I will not become another puppet dancing on his strings, no matter how golden those strings might be."
Seris clenched her fists, frustration and confusion warring within her. "I don't know what you two are talking about," she said, her voice carrying an edge of desperation. "I just want to know why you would tell Cain you would stand with us, only to go back on your word now? Why make promises you had no intention of keeping?"
Talzin said nothing, her expression returning to that unreadable mask. As the silence stretched uncomfortably, broken only by the whisper of wind through the twisted trees and the distant bubbling of the swamps.
Then Shaak Ti stiffened, her montrals vibrating intensely as she sensed multiple presences approaching from all directions. "Be careful," she warned, her voice tight with tension. "We are not alone. We're being surrounded."
Shapes moved within the mist, barely visible at first, then becoming clearer as they approached. Nightsisters appeared silently from the red fog, emerging like ghosts from the crimson haze. They moved with predatory grace, weapons in hand, their faces painted with intricate patterns that seemed to glow faintly in the dim light.
Some carried energy bows, the weapons humming with barely contained power, arrows already nocked and ready to fire. Others wielded enchanted daggers, the blades glowing with eerie green markings that pulsed with dark magicks. Still others held chain-sickles, the weapons spinning slowly, creating a low humming sound that seemed to resonate with the oppressive atmosphere.
Shaak Ti ignited her blue lightsaber with a sharp snap-hiss that cut through the tension like a blade. Seris followed immediately, her golden-yellow blade flaring to life, the pure light cutting through the red haze and pushing back the darkness. The two shifted into ready stances, their bodies coiled and prepared for combat, while Fay remained composed and still, her eyes never leaving Talzin, her hands remaining at her sides.
Mother Talzin raised a hand slightly, a gesture that was both casual and commanding. "Leave now," she said, her voice carrying absolute authority, "while I am still being generous. While I am still willing to let you walk away unharmed out of respect for my student."
Fay turned to Seris, her eyes studying the young Padawan with an intensity that seemed to see straight through to her soul. "Seris," she said calmly, "Cain trusted you with this mission, not us. We are here only to support you, to observe, and to intervene if absolutely necessary. What do you wish to do?"
Seris looked at Master Fay, then to Shaak Ti, who nodded back at her with an expression of trust and confidence. But Seris hesitated, her mind racing through the options available to her. She could fight, certainly. Her skills were formidable, and with two Jedi Masters at her side, they could probably cut through the Nightsisters and escape.
But that wouldn't accomplish the mission. That wouldn't bring the Nightsisters into the fold, wouldn't unite the Force users of the galaxy as Cain had envisioned. And retreating, simply walking away, wasn't something she wanted to do either. That would be admitting defeat, admitting that she wasn't strong enough, wasn't worthy of the trust Cain had placed in her.
That's when she remembered what Cain had said to her, words spoken in a quiet moment during their training, words that had seemed simple at the time but now carried profound weight.
"We are just a praxeum now, but one day we will form a new order. We will be more active than the order of old, more engaged with the galaxy and its people. But that doesn't mean we will be blind in our actions, doesn't mean we'll rush into every conflict with lightsabers blazing. If you're ever conflicted on what to do next, then listen to the Force and let it guide you. That is what this order will do more of. We will trust in the Force, not just in our own strength or wisdom."
Seris closed her eyes, shutting out the visual distractions, the threatening Nightsisters, the oppressive atmosphere, the crimson sky. She reached inward first, calming the storm of emotions within her, the fear, the frustration, the desperate need to prove herself. She let those feelings flow through her and away, like water through her fingers, until she found the still point at her center, the place of perfect calm.
Then she reached outward to the Force, opening herself to its guidance, listening to its whispers, feeling its currents. And in that moment of perfect clarity, she understood what needed to be done.
After a long moment, she deactivated her lightsaber, the golden-yellow blade disappearing with a soft hiss as she attached her curved hilt to her side. The sudden absence of its light made the red mist seem even more oppressive, even more threatening.
"Master," Seris said softly, her voice carrying absolute conviction, "please deactivate yours as well."
Shaak Ti turned in surprise, her blue eyes widening. "Seris, what are you...."
"Please, Master," Seris interrupted gently but firmly. "Trust me, and trust in the Force."
Shaak Ti stared at her Padawan for a long moment, conflict clear in her expression. Every instinct, every year of training and experience, screamed at her to keep her weapon ready, to maintain her defensive posture. But after a heartbeat that seemed to stretch into eternity, she deactivated her lightsaber. The blue blade vanished with a hiss, plunging them into the crimson twilight of Dathomir.
"What is your plan, my Padawan?" Shaak Ti asked, her voice carrying both concern and curiosity.
Seris stepped forward alone, moving past her masters, her boots sinking slightly into the soil as the red mist swirled around her legs. "I will listen to the Force," she said simply, her voice carrying a calm certainty that seemed at odds with the dangerous situation, "and I will convince her. Not through words, but through action. Through demonstration of what we represents."
Mother Talzin's lips curled into a faint, cold smile. "I was willing to let you leave for the sake of my student, out of respect for the bond he and I share. Now you ignore that kindness, that mercy I offered." Her voice hardened, taking on an edge of genuine menace. "A shame. I will have to tell him you died being prideful, that your arrogance led to your death on this world."
Seris stopped at the center of the thickening mist, standing alone in a clear circle as the Nightsisters closed in around her. She was calm, unwavering, her posture relaxed but ready. She felt the Force flowing around her and through her, felt its guidance like a warm current carrying her forward.
"Don't worry, Mother Talzin," Seris said, a slight smile touching her lips, her silver eyes reflecting the crimson light with an almost ethereal quality. "I have a feeling... you will see things my way soon enough."
Seris stood alone at the center of the thick red mist, her feet planted firmly against the ashen ground. She stood still, making no move to draw her lightsaber, no aggressive gestures, no defensive postures. She simply listened to the Force and waited, trusting in its guidance, trusting in the path it was showing her.
Shaak Ti and Fay felt it too, that sudden shift in the Force around Seris. Their Padawan was so calm, so centered in this moment, more focused than they had ever sensed her before. It was as if she had found perfect harmony with the Force, as if she had become a conduit for its will rather than simply a user of its power.
That's when the Nightsisters attacked.
The first wave came without warning, a sudden barrage that would have overwhelmed most opponents. Energy arrows tore through the thick fog in rapid succession, their crackling bolts streaking toward Seris from multiple angles, from above and below, from left and right, creating a web of deadly energy that seemed impossible to evade.
Seris only exhaled slowly and moved.
Her body flowed sideways with liquid grace, then forward with explosive speed, then she bent backward until her spine formed an impossible arc, each motion precise and controlled, elegant and efficient. Her movements seemed almost effortless, as if she were dancing rather than dodging, as if the arrows were partners in an elaborate choreography rather than weapons meant to kill.
Arrows passed where her head had been a heartbeat earlier, the crackling energy so close she could feel the heat on her skin. Others skimmed past her shoulders, missing by inches, the displacement of air ruffling her silver-white hair. She spun once, her body rotating with perfect balance, ducked low until her hand touched the ground, vaulted over a streak of purple light that would have taken her in the chest, and landed smoothly without breaking her rhythm, without losing her connection to the Force.
More arrows came, quicker now, the Nightsisters adjusting their aim, compensating for her movements. But Seris was already moving again, her body responding to threats before her conscious mind even registered them, guided by the Force, by instinct honed through years of training, by the Echani combat philosophy that taught her to read her opponents through their movements.
Fay and Shaak Ti watched from the edge of the thick mist, neither interfering, or moving to help. Shaak Ti's posture was tense, every muscle coiled and ready, every instinct urging her to intervene, to protect her Padawan from this onslaught. But she remained still, trusting in Seris, trusting in the Force, trusting in the training they had given her.
Fay's expression was calm, her eyes were sharp and unwavering. She trusted Seris completely, trusted in the girl's abilities, in her connection to the Force, in the strength of character that Cain had seen in her. She knew Seris was the perfect person for this mission, she knew that this moment was exactly what the young Padawan needed to truly come into her own.
Seris continued moving fluidly, her breathing steady and controlled, her blood pumping with the exhilaration of combat, her muscles alive with movement as the barrage refused to slow. Sweat began to bead on her forehead, her robes clinging to her body, but her focus never wavered, her connection to the Force never faltered.
Then the attack changed as chains burst from the mist with violent speed. Heavy metal links wrapped around Seris's right arm and left leg with brutal force, the impact sending shockwaves of pain through her body. The chains pulled in opposing directions with tremendous strength, trying to tear her apart, trying to drag her down into the corrupted soil.
The impact sent a shock through her body, rattling her bones. But she did not cry out in pain, or allow herself to show weakness. She breathed hard, and her teeth clenched, as she planted her foot deeper into the ground, straightening her spine despite the strain, refusing to be move or be broken.
"You call that pulling?" Seris said evenly, her voice strained but defiant, a slight smile touching her lips despite the pain. "Derren is stronger than all of you combined, and he weighs a lot more. I've trained against him for years. This is nothing compared to that."
Seris reached into the Force with intense focus, drawing on reserves of strength she didn't know she possessed. Power surged through her muscles, enhancing her physical capabilities far beyond normal limits. She felt the Force flowing through every fiber of her being, sharpening her reflexes, and amplifying her natural abilities.
With a sharp yank she redirected the chains, pulling them across her body and into the path of incoming energy arrows. The timing was perfect, the angle exactly right. As energy bolts detonated against the metal links in brilliant flashes of light and sound, the explosions sending fragments of superheated metal flying in all directions.
The chains snapped apart under the combined stress, the broken links clattering to the ground with metallic rings that echoed across the clearing. Seris landed gently back on the ground, her elegant grace still on full display despite the violence of the exchange, despite the pain radiating from where the chains had gripped her.
Then the mist began to glow with small mystical green lights that flickered within it like malevolent fireflies. The lights circled around Seris, multiplying rapidly, dozens becoming hundreds, hundreds becoming thousands. Several shapes emerged from the mist, materializing like nightmares given form.
Nightsisters rushed forward with enchanted blades that hummed with Force magicks, energy lances crackling with barely contained power, and chain-sickles spinning in complex patterns as they closed the distance with predatory speed.
Seris did not ignite her lightsaber. The Force was telling her clearly that her skills as an Echani, her hand-to-hand combat, were more than enough for this challenge. This wasn't about overwhelming force or superior weaponry. This was about skill, about discipline, about proving that she had earned her place among the Jedi.
She inhaled deeply, centering herself, and raised her hand in a beckoning gesture. "Bring it," she said simply, her voice carrying absolute confidence.
She wrapped the Force around herself like a second skin, using Tutaminis to create a protective barrier that would absorb and dissipate energy attacks. The technique required intense concentration and a deep connection to the Force, but Seris had practiced it countless times under Master Plo's guidance since they came to Tython, she had pushed herself to master it despite the difficulty in such little time.
The first Nightsister lunged with an enchanted dagger that glowed with sickly green light. Seris stepped inside the strike with explosive speed, her body moving with the extreme precision. She redirected the attacker's wrist with a sharp strike, disrupting the angle of attack, then struck the elbow with brutal precision, hyperextending the joint.
The Nightsister's grip faltered, and Seris followed up with a palm strike to the chin that snapped the woman's head back. She heard bone crack as the weapon fell from nerveless fingers, clattering against the stone.
Another Nightsister came from behind, moving silently, her blade aimed at Seris's exposed back.
But Seris had already sensed her through the Force, had read her intentions in the subtle shifts of air pressure and the faint sound of displaced mist. She twisted with liquid grace, caught the attacker's forearm before the blade could connect, and used the woman's own momentum against her, throwing her into the ground with a hard thud that drove the air from her lungs.
A third swung low, aiming for Seris's legs, trying to cripple her mobility. Seris vaulted straight up, her body rising several feet into the air with Force-enhanced agility. She planted her foot on the attacker's shoulder as she passed overhead, using it as a springboard to flip cleanly over her, and struck a vital pressure point on the woman's neck as she landed. The Nightsister collapsed immediately, unconscious before she hit the ground.
Shaak Ti's eyes widened slightly, pride and amazement warring in her expression. "She's improved again," she murmured, her voice carrying a note of wonder. "Her movements are even more refined than during our last training session. She's adapting, and growing stronger with every exchange."
Fay nodded, her face showing the faintest hint of a smile. "Seris is the finest hand-to-hand combatant of her generation, perhaps one of the best I've seen in my long life. And with the proper guidance, she will possibly become one of the best lightsaber duelists as well. She has the potential to surpass even her masters, given time and experience."
Seris moved with a combination of grace and lethal restraint that was breathtaking to witness. Teräs Käsi guided her strikes with deadly efficiency, each blow calculated to disable, or incapacitate rather than kill. She mixed it with Echani techniques that flowed cleanly through her movements, her body reading tension and intent in her opponents' muscles, while responding to attacks before they were fully formed.
She understood combat as a conversation, as her father instructed her on Corellia before she left for the temple. She that it was funny, she hadn't seen her parents in years but her fathers teachings were the first thing she remembered whenever she took up fighting. She remembered he was a Echani and a amazing duelist. Even now she can hear his wise words just like when she was a infant.
He said combat in the Echani art of comabt was a way of life and a dialogue between opponents where every movement spoke volumes, where every strike and parry carried meaning. And right now, she was engaged in a debate, and she intended to win through superior argument, through undeniable demonstration of skill and discipline.
Seris parried blades that came within inches of her throat, her forearms moving with blinding speed to deflect strikes that would have been fatal. She disarmed attackers with sharp joint locks that exploited the natural weaknesses of the humanoid body, applying pressure to points that forced weapons to drop from suddenly nerveless fingers. She struck pressure points with surgical precision, targeting nerve clusters that dropped Nightsisters without killing them, and without causing permanent damage.
For twenty long minutes, the assault did not stop. More Nightsisters emerged from the mist in waves, some fresh and eager, others returning after recovering from earlier defeats. The red fog seemed endless, an inexhaustible source of opponents, each one skilled, each one dangerous, each one determined to prove their superiority.
Seris's breathing grew heavier as the minutes stretched on, her chest heaving with exertion. Sweat soaked through her robes, making the fabric cling to her body, making every movement slightly more difficult. Her arms trembled with exhaustion, her muscles burning with the accumulated strain of constant combat. But still she stood, still she fought, her conviction never wavering, her connection to the Force never faltering.
She continued to listen to the Force as it guided her, as it showed her where to move, where to strike, how to flow from one technique to another with seamless efficiency. She trusted in it completely, surrendered herself to its will, and in doing so, found strength she didn't know she possessed.
And then, suddenly, after beating two Nightsisters simultaneously, one with a spinning kick that caught her in the temple, the other with a joint lock that dislocated her shoulder, the attacks stopped. The Nightsisters who had been preparing to rush forward melted back into the mist, disappearing as silently as they had appeared.
Silence fell over the clearing, broken only by Seris's heavy breathing and the distant sounds of Dathomir's hostile environment. The red mist swirled around her, but no more attackers emerged from its depths.
Then Mother Talzin's voice cut through the silence.
"Enough."
The red mist recoiled as if struck by an unseen wind, clearing a wide circle around Seris. The Nightsisters who lay on the ground, groaning and nursing their injuries, were gathered by their sisters and retreated, melting back into the fog until none remained visible.
Seris stood alone in the open space, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her arms trembling with exhaustion, her robes soaked with sweat and stained with the red dust of Dathomir. But her posture remained unbroken, her spine straight, her head held high. She had not fallen, or surrendered, and she had not compromised her principles.
She looked toward Talzin with conviction still burning brightly in her silver eyes, undimmed by exhaustion or pain. "Are you willing to talk now?" she asked, her voice steady despite her labored breathing.
Talzin studied her in silence for a long moment, her glowing green eyes seeming to pierce through Seris's defenses, to see into her very soul. Then those eyes flared with mystical green light, brighter than before, and power began to gather around the Nightsister matriarch like a visible aura.
"You talk well with violence," Talzin said, her voice carrying a dangerous edge. "You have proven your physical prowess, and skill in combat. But let us see how well you can speak through the Force itself. Tell me, little one, can you handle this?"
Green lightning erupted from Talzin's outstretched hand, a torrent of dark side energy that crackled and writhed like a living thing. The bolt was massive, far more powerful than anything Seris had faced before with Master Plo.
Seris reacted instantly, her exhaustion forgotten in the face of this new threat. She threw up a Force barrier using Tutaminis, channeling the Force through her body to create a shield that could absorb and dissipate energy attacks. The impact was tremendous, driving her backward, her boots carving deep grooves in the soil as she struggled to maintain her footing.
The energy pressed down on her with crushing force, like trying to hold back an avalanche with bare hands. She could feel the dark side energy trying to break her defenses.
Shaak Ti stepped forward instinctively, her hand moving to her lightsaber, every instinct screaming at her to intervene, to protect her Padawan from this overwhelming assault. But Fay raised a hand, stopping her with a gentle but firm gesture.
"No, Master Ti," Fay said calmly, her ancient voice carrying absolute certainty. "Trust in your Padawan and in the Force. This is her trial, her moment to prove herself. We cannot interfere."
"She hasn't been trained for something like this," Shaak Ti said urgently, her voice tight with concern and fear. "Force lightning, especially from someone as powerful as Talzin, is beyond what most Padawans can handle. She could be seriously injured, or worse."
"We cannot train our students for everything. We can only hope to taught them enough, and gave them the tools and knowledge they need life, and trust them to use those skills to become something more than we could have imagined. So trust Seris as her master should. Trust in the strength you have helped her develop. And trust in the Force."
Shaak Ti stared toward Seris, her expression torn between duty and concern. But after a moment, she nodded, forcing herself to trust, to believe in the Padawan she had trained, in the young woman who had grown so much under her guidance.
Seris dropped to one knee, her teeth clenched so hard her jaw ached, as the lightning began to overwhelm her shield. She could feel her barrier cracking, fracturing under the relentless assault, feel the dark side energy beginning to seep through the gaps.
"You still refuse to draw your weapon?" Talzin said coldly, her voice carrying over the crackling of the lightning. "Foolish child. You cannot defeat me either way, but to limit yourself is either prideful or foolish. Perhaps both."
Seris's thoughts raced, her mind desperately searching for a solution, for a way out of this impossible situation. Maybe drawing her lightsaber would be the right decision, using it to deflect or redirect the lightning. Or maybe she should use the mist to hide, to break line of sight and escape the direct assault.
But then she stilled her mind, quieting the racing thoughts, and the desperate scrambling for solutions. She remembered what Cain had said, words that had seemed simple at the time but now carried profound weight.
"Listen to the Force and let it guide you. Be at peace, and let it flow through you. Don't fight against it, don't try to control it. Simply trust, and it will show you the way."
Seris breathed in deeply, surrendering herself completely to the Force, trusting in it with every fiber of her being, trusting in Cain's words, and trusting in the path he had set her on. She felt her power surge in the Force as it engulfed her as she thought of Cain more and more, as it filled every cell of her body with radiant energy.
She had only one thought, it was crystal clear and absolutely certain in her mind: She would make Cain's dream come true. She would help create a beautiful new galaxy together with him. She would not fail or falter, and she will not break.
Suddenly, a faint glow appeared around her body. It was golden at first, pure and radiant, then mixed with silverish-white light that seemed to shimmer and dance. The glow was weak at first, barely visible against the crimson light of Dathomir. But then it grew steadier, brighter, pushing back the darkness, illuminating the clearing with light that seemed to come from another world entirely.
Talzin's eyes narrowed, surprise flickering across her features for the first time. "Impossible," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the crackling of her lightning.
Seris felt it then, a perfect clarity washing over her like cool water. Stillness in the Force, absolute peace despite the violence surrounding her, complete certainty in her convictions and her purpose. She understood in that moment what she needed to do, what the Force was guiding her to do.
She let the barrier fall. And for a split instant, Talzin's green lightning surged forward unimpeded, engulfing Seris in a torrent of dark side energy that should have burned her to ash or stopped her heart.
And then, moments later, golden Force lightning exploded from Seris's hands. The golden lightning was beautiful and terrible, crackling with pure Force energy that seemed to sing with harmonious purpose.
"Is that Electric Judgment?!" Shaak Ti exclaimed, her voice carrying shock and awe in equal measure. "How is that possible? That technique requires years of study and perfect control! She just started studying it a few months ago with Master Plo, and the others?"
The golden lightning collided with Talzin's green energy in a violent clash that lit up the entire clearing. Lightning pushed against lightning, light against dark, two opposing philosophies made manifest in pure Force energy. The red mist around them was blown away completely, dispersed by the shockwave of power, and the ground was illuminated by the radiant glow of Seris's aura.
She stood bathed in gold and silver light, defiant against the crimson world and the dark witch who ruled it. Her silver-white hair seemed to glow with its own inner radiance, and her silver eyes blazed with conviction and purpose. She looked like an avenging angel, a beacon of hope in a world of darkness.
The energies were locked in perfect balance, neither gaining ground, neither overwhelming the other. Seris felt she could dive deeper into the Force, could push further, could draw on reserves of power she had barely touched. The temptation was there, the desire to prove herself superior, to overwhelm her opponent completely.
Then a hand rested gently on her shoulder, warm and reassuring. She turned her head slightly and saw Master Fay standing beside her, calm and resolute as ever, her ancient face showing approval and pride.
"That is enough, Seris," Fay said gently. "You have proven your point. There is no need to push further."
Behind Talzin, a figure emerged from the darkness of the fortress entrance, moving with quiet authority. Augwynne Djo, stepped into the light, her expression serious but not hostile.
"Talzin," Djo said sharply, her voice cutting through the crackling of the lightning, "this test of yours has gone far enough. The girl has proven herself beyond any reasonable doubt. End this now."
Talzin held the lightning for a moment longer, her eyes locked with Seris's. Then she withdrew her attack, the green lightning dissipating into the air like smoke. Seris did the same immediately, the golden glow around her fading as she released her connection to that deep wellspring of power.
Confusion crossed Seris's face as she looked between Talzin and Djo, her exhausted mind struggling to understand what was happening. "I don't understand," she said, her voice carrying genuine bewilderment. "What is happening? What test?"
Djo stepped forward, her expression softening slightly. "Let me explain, young one. The Witches of Dathomir, both the Nightsisters and the Singing Mountain Clan, were reluctant to join this new order that Talzin's student was forming. We have been isolated for so long, independent for generations, and the idea of submitting to outside authority, even benevolent authority, was difficult to accept."
She paused, glancing at Talzin before continuing. "Talzin and I devised a test together. Cain was to send a representative of his generation, someone he believed could prove this order's convictions and strength, someone who embodied the principles he was trying to establish. We needed to see if this new order was truly different from the old Jedi Order, if it was worth risking our independence for."
Seris frowned, her exhaustion making it difficult to process this information. "That's not what Cain told me. He said this was a diplomatic mission, that I was to convince you through words and negotiation."
Fay inclined her head, her expression apologetic. "It was important not to burden you with the full weight of what was at stake, not to let the pressure of the test influence your actions. You needed to act naturally, to respond authentically to the challenges presented. Not to mention, this is no different from when different Jedi orders visited one another in the days of old. Students would duel and spar to display and represent their schools, to prove the quality of their training and the strength of their convictions."
Talzin spoke again, her voice carrying a note of respect that hadn't been there before. "I suggested to Cain that he send Skywalker. I wanted to see what that legendary the Chosen One was like up close, and to test his power and his character. But Cain said the one he would send was better, more suited to this particular challenge. And here you are, proving him right once again."
Seris's eyes widened as the full implications of what she was hearing sank in. Cain had known. He had known this was a test, had known she would face combat, had known exactly what he was sending her into. And he had trusted her to succeed without telling her the truth.
Talzin's gaze lingered on Seris, studying her with an intensity that made the young Padawan want to look away. "You have potential, child. Great potential. Should you ever want to learn the ways of the Nightsisters, to understand the magicks we wield, I will teach you personally. That is an offer I do not make lightly."
Seris began to rub the bridge of her nose, frustration breaking through her exhausted calm composure. "I don't know what to say to that," she admitted, her voice carrying an edge of exasperation. "I just cannot believe Cain lied to me. Again! This is becoming a pattern with him."
She began to think of ways she was going to make him pay for this deception. A simple smack wouldn't be enough this time. No, he would need to understand that lying to her, even with good intentions, had consequences. She would make sure he wouldn't get out of it so easily.
Shaak Ti smiled faintly, moving to stand beside her Padawan, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Do not think of it as lying, Seris. He trusted you with something incredibly important, trusted you to represent everything he's trying to build. That trust is a gift, even if the method of delivery was... unconventional."
Talzin turned to Djo, her expression becoming businesslike. "The Nightsisters will come to Tython, as agreed. We will join this new order, this praxeum, and lend our strength to its cause. But the matter of the Nightbrothers will require further discussion and negotiation. I will take Cain's suggestion and have their most senior member come as a representative, to speak for his people and help determine the path forward."
Djo nodded, her expression showing approval. "The Singing Mountain Clan will come as well. We have seen enough to convince us that this new order is worth supporting, that it represents a genuine departure from the failures of the past. The Witches of Dathomir will answer the call, united for the first time in generations."
Seris exhaled deeply, relief washing over her like a cool wave, washing away some of the exhaustion and frustration. "Good to hear," she said with a small, tired smile. "Because I am going to give Cain a piece of my mind when I see him again. And it won't end with just one smack either. He's going to learn that deceiving me has consequences."
Talzin watched her go as Seris turned and began walking back toward the ship, her steps slightly unsteady from exhaustion. A soft smile touched the Nightsister matriarch's lips, an expression of genuine warmth that transformed her severe features.
She truly loves my student, Talzin thought to herself, and Cain clearly loves her even if he won't admit it himself. The bond between them is strong. Perhaps this new order has a chance after all, if it's built on foundations like that.
Aboard the Resolute Dawn, somewhere in hyperspace between Lotho Minor and Atollon, Cain sneezed suddenly at the controls, the unexpected sound breaking the quiet hum of the ship's systems.
"Achoo!"
Anakin glanced over at me from the co-pilot's seat, his expression curious and slightly amused. "You catch something on Lotho Minor? That place was toxic enough to make anyone sick."
I shook my head, rubbing my nose with the back of my hand. "No, I don't think so. Probably just someone talking about me. I just can't tell if it's good or bad." A slight smile tugged at my lips. "Though knowing my luck, it's probably bad."
Derren stepped into the cockpit from the main cabin, his expression serious. "Maul is secured and heavily sedated. I had to use half our medical stock we prepared just to keep him under. The guy's connection to the Dark Side is so strong it's fighting against the sedatives. We better pick up more supplies when we stop at Kamino, incase we have to bring him back to Tython with us or we might have problems keeping him contained."
I nodded, my expression becoming more serious. "Good work, Derren. We're approaching Atollon now. We should be dropping out of hyperspace in a few minutes."
Anakin looked at the swirling blue tunnel of hyperspace displayed on the viewports, then turned to me with curiosity evident in his blue eyes. "So... this Bendu guy. Anything we should know before we meet him? Any protocols or customs we should observe?"
I scratched absently at the scar beneath my eyepatch. "Yeah," I said with a slight smirk. "He's big. Really big. And he's... well, like master yoda, not the speech pattern but that same mystical way of talking, you'll see. Just remember to be respectful. The Bendu is neither light nor dark, neither Jedi nor Sith. He exists in the middle, in perfect balance. And he's been around for a very, very long time."
Anakin and Derren exchanged glances, their expressions showing curiosity. Then the navicomputer began to chime, indicating their imminent arrival at their destination.
"Here we go," I said, reaching forward to begin the deceleration sequence. "Welcome to Atollon. Let's hope the Bendu is in a talkative mood, and is straightforward."
The Resolute Dawn shuddered slightly as it prepared to drop out of hyperspace, and the three of us braced ourselves for whatever awaited us.