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anchanted-one · 1 year

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Legend of Lightning Chapter 66: Family, Found and Real

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43208574/chapters/116106772

Tython

Vajra was apprehensive about going down memory lane, given his nightmares were populated by phantoms from his past. And yet, he also felt a deep relief, like he was acknowledging a portion of himself.

“Tell me about your family, your direct family. Start with your parents and… second mothers.”

“My mother was Anagha. I was her only child. She taught me a lot herself. How to stalk and hunt game, swim, fish, climb, wrestle, and how to cook. Jamuna taught me how to use the spear and sword. Not that it got very far; I just learned the basics. Shruthi was one of the women who watched over all the tribe’s children. She taught us all how to sing and dance. I loved dancing especially. My father Sanjaya was mute, but he was the strongest man in the village. He taught me how to listen, in addition to sign language. Our version, that is. It’s very practical, but limited. He also took me on a few excursions sometimes, to show me how to find my way through rough terrain. He let me ride the yaks sometimes.” Vajra chuckled. “They were hairy and smelly, but loyal and kind. They could and would drive away predators, but never attacked us.”

“Tell me about your siblings.”

“I had six half-sisters. Trilochana, Kali, Kamakshi, and Shreya were Shruthi’s daughters. Bhuvana and Swathi were Jamuna’s. Shreya was a year younger than me, Swathi was a month older. Trilochana was twelve. They were getting ready to put her through the first rite of passage, to prove that she was ready to be an apprentice.”

Unbidden, images formed in his head. Images of their corpses. Swathi’s mouth had been burned all through, probably a sign that Bellicose had fed her his Lightsaber. Trilochana had been sliced into fourths. He had found her with her face down, recognizable only by her favorite ornament; a pretty rock set in a hairpin. Shreya had been squashed under a rock, her bones crushed under the force. He hadn’t found the others before happening upon his mother’s body.

The memories did not raise much emotion within, other than a righteous anger against the Sith’s callous disregard for life. And a disgust at seeing innocent children dead.

“I can see where your mind went just by looking at your eyes,” the doctor sighed. “You remembered their deaths, didn’t you?”

Vajra nodded and told her what had come to him just now, and she shook her head in disgust.

“You may be relieved to not feel any torment, the way you do for Uphrades. But do you feel any sense of loss? Of longing?”

“A little.”

For the first time, Doctor Row looked angry with him. She rose out of her seat and began pacing the room. “Tell me. Imagine for a moment that you know you’ll lose your emotions again one day, including your feelings for Jasme and Kira. How would you react to that knowledge? Are you willing to let your love for your friends be excised?”

Vajra shivered. He could not answer.

“Now think about this; based on what you told me, you loved your family a great deal more than you do the girls in your life today. Imagine that. Imagine what you have lost, in exchange for that peace of mind. Was it worth it?”

Again, Vajra could not bring himself to answer.

Row sat back down and massaged her temples. “I shouldn’t be so mad at you. From your perspective, not having more souls crying out in your nightmares must be a huge plus, am I correct?”

“I can’t take any more of them,” he answered weakly.

“I understand. But if you were in a better place, mentally, you might be horrified. In fact, knowing what kind of person you are, I’d bet half a year’s salary on it.”

“What kind of person am I?”

“A warm, soft child who is horrified by violence. One who revels in the presence of his loved ones. But I’m afraid ethics and sentiment aren’t the only reason I’ve filed a formal complaint against Master Oteg.”

“You’ve filed a report against Master Oteg?”

“Yes. You see, his actions have left you vulnerable to your emotions. You will always be a lot less emotionally mature than you would have been, had he allowed more conventional means of helping you.”

“What?” Vajra sat up straighter. “But I’m not that immature, emotionally… am I?”

“Perhaps not. Uupa WenSuul’s lessons have sprouted deep roots in your heart. Patience and even-temperedness will always be your hallmarks, I think. It took some real doing for Angral to break your calm. But you take in guilt like a sponge. Have you noticed that?”

“I—”

“Yes?”

“I don’t…”

“Perhaps you haven’t, but can you deny what I said? You felt guilty about the Khrayii and Power Guards you killed. You feel guilty about Uphrades. You feel guilty about letting Tarnis and the defectors of Havoc Squad escape. You feel responsible for every life you couldn’t save. How much faster can you be? How many places can you be in at the same time? Can the Raudra create clones of themselves?”

“No.”

“Then why do you believe you should have been able to reach Uphrades in time? We’ve already established that visions are iffy.”

Vajra swallowed. “What I’m about to tell you stays with us. Don’t put this in your notes. Don’t tell Master Satele, don’t tell anyone.”

She looked at him slowly. He told her slowly about his special gift, the Shattersense.

He then opened his third eye. “This eye of mine is blind. It happened when I was young. Since I can’t use it for natural sight, I trained myself to separate mundane sight and Force sight between my eyes. My lower two see the real world. My third sees the tapestry that is the Force. I can See it. The flows, the cracks, the breaks. I can see it all. But as I am, I can’t comprehend it. Do you understand? If I had practised my Sight instead of my swordsmanship—”

“Then you’d have been able to reach Angral, but not stop him. You’d be in his grasp, the way he’s in ours. And Uphrades would still be dead, as would everyone on Tython. Including Jasme. Sight is good, but not that great.”

“If I had seen, I could have gotten them to evacuate. The Masters would have been waiting for Angral. He’d have walked into a trap.”

“Perhaps. What are the odds you could have managed it though? From what you described, your Sight sounds like something that would take many lifetimes to master. You’re working on ‘maybes’ with this line of thought. Look instead at what happened. You saved Master Satele and Jasme. You saved Ranna.”

Vajra felt a stone sinking into the pit of his stomach. Another person he hadn’t thought about in days. Whose feelings he’d ignored when he tried to end his own life. Had she heard about his suicide attempt yet? How badly had she taken it?

“Tell me more about your feelings for Satele.”

“Eh?” He wondered why she’d gone there all of a sudden.

“She’s quite popular, you know.”

“Can’t imagine why. Anyway, the first time I saw her, my eyes almost popped out of my skull. I thought she was among the beautiful women I’d ever seen, and Jasme was sitting in the room with me at the time!”

Doctor Row chuckled.

“I… I was honored to have the Lightsabers she loaned me. They felt even more special when I found out—” he almost kicked himself for nearly blurting it out, but Row waved her hand.

“I know that she’s Jasme’s mother. In fact, I know who the father is. I am her therapist to this day. Rest assured, there are few secrets she hasn’t shared with me.”

“She still needs therapy?”

“Yes. I’m sure you noticed, but she’s rather isolated and alone. Therapy is where she gets things off her chest. She has talked about you quite often, usually in conjunction with Jasme.”

“Are you allowed to tell me that?”

“This level of detail? Of course. Satele is quite fond of you. I’m sure she’s told you that herself. And so has Jasme, by now. Satele cares more about you than any other Jedi. Or most people at all, except for Theron, Jasme, and their father. It’s not entirely for Jasme’s sake either. You’ve been asked to take on so much, and you always pull through. She feels guilty about it. And yet, proud. She takes your mental health as her personal failing. She wishes with all her heart that she could have kept you on easier missions after Tython. But you just got thrown into the Angral situation.”

“She’s definitely like a m—a m-m-mother to me. Just like Jasme’s a sister…” He had a sudden mental image of Master Satele and Jasme on Raudraksha, as a second mother and half-sister respectively. The picture felt… like it should have been real. Like it was the most beautiful what-if that would never exist. “I love her just like Jasme,” he admitted. “Maybe not as strong, but it’s there.”

“Know that it’s mutual. And know that she doesn’t give it freely. That you won her love means that you’re a good child.”

“Or lucky. Jasme’s the one she really loves. I just got a fast pass.”

“She didn’t love Tomas Vance. Barely gave him a second glance. Nor has she loved anyone else who Jasme befriended.”

“What does all this mean?”

“It means, that you also saved someone who sees you as a son. In a way, you saved your family from the deranged Sith Lord this time. Think on that, okay?”

Satele sat in her chambers, enjoying a rare moment of solitude. For reasons she didn’t quite know yet, she was taking Doctor Row’s advice. She was composing a letter to Vajra, to tell him what his struggles truly meant to her. For her own sake, and Jasme’s, but mostly for his.

“My Dear Son,” she had begun. The opener still made her blush hot crimson. “We’ve not really talked in any capacity too far outside our roles as Jedi Master and Knight until today. But there’s some things I absolutely need to tell you about.”

Her intake of breath was very shaky, owing to the fact that her heart seemed to have jumped into her throat.

“Moving on for now, why don’t you tell me about your upbringing by Uupa?”

“My first memory of her is when my basic was still bad. We relied on a droid to translate. And teach. KV-220F. He was assigned to take care of Master WenSuul, who was already getting old. One of the droids assigned to Master Oteg gave him the files on my language. I didn’t know how she expected to behave with her at first, so I treated her as one of the elders I was often assigned to accompany. Like Parijatha, especially. I stayed as close to her as I could, took care of her chores and stuff. But at the time, she was still able to do most of it, albeit slowly, so she didn’t appreciate it. She did approve of the attitude, however. She set me on helping others instead. Most of the people there were alright humoring the cantankerous Jedi, even if it meant accepting the help of a small alien child few could understand. They started to appreciate having an extra pair of hands.”

“Or two,” Row chuckled.

“Some of them were mechanics and repair shop owners. These were happiest with my help, since they were almost always overburdened. They asked Master WenSuul to send me over two afternoons a week, in exchange for some extra credits. She was living off her stipend, but thought it would be a good way to teach me how money worked. I also helped some of the poorer or older farmers during planting and harvest season. Again, I was paid a fair wage. Uphradeans weren’t big fans of exploitation.”

“What about your training?”

“Master WenSuul trained me for an hour at dawn, and two at dusk. Sometimes she trained me late at night, when she had certain lessons that were better taught when most people were asleep. She was constantly frustrated by my short range. She insisted that the problem was in my head. But I’m still limited to around fifteen meters. She gave me my first training Lightsabers a couple of weeks after I arrived. She made me take it apart and put it back together every night after I got the hang of technology. It was good practice. But mostly, she worked on making me patient and compassionate, as you’ve noticed.”

“I’m good at my work.”

“She gave me her Holocron to study the Lightsaber Forms. I started on the footwork drills within the first week of apprenticeship, and incorporated Lightsabers as soon as I got them. I would train before and after my morning sessions with her. It was a good way to start my day.”

“I’ll bet it was.”

“I also trained during the day, whenever I had ten minutes of break time.”

“Your skill had to come from somewhere.”

“There were other Jedi who came to teach me from time to time. Friends of Master WenSuul who dropped by to visit. They trained me, corrected my forms.”

“Can you tell me about them?”

“There were four of them. Rosavi Birch was a tall, serious Zabrak Jedi with tattoos on her skin. She had a Padawan named Tau, the last time she came, four years ago. Tau was silent but kind. An orphan, like me. I didn’t pry, because she was clearly still dealing with her traumatic life. She was nine, I think. Rosavi had long hair that she was proud of. Apparently, it was the only trait she inherited from her father. I made her a clasp, the last time I saw her. That was the only time I saw her beam like that.”

“Tau…” Doctor Row pressed keys on her datapad. “Rosavi Birch… ah, yes, here we go! Rosavi’s currently serving as an ambassador to the Akaza. It’s a conflict-ridden world, so Rosavi serves as an impartial judge and arbiter. You’ll be pleased to hear that Tau seems to be doing better. She has the makings of a fine Jedi Knight. She helped raid a small bandit camp two weeks ago. Her full name is Tau Idair. Maybe you’ll meet her again someday.”

“Then there’s Kresham Juure. He was a middle-aged Sephi Arkanian with a cybernetic hand, the first one I ever saw.”

“Serving on Thustra as part of the defense force. A General, I believe.”

“The Echani Jedi Germaine Hext. He’s the one who taught me Echani and Mandalorian unarmed combat, which I honed along with what my family taught me.”

“Germaine, eh?” Vajra thought he saw a hint of sorrow on her face. “He was KIA on Balmorra, fighting Lady Riiyavi Rooks. While she was the victor, she was too wounded to defeat his partner, Aryn Leneer.”

“I mourned his death. And finally, there was Harunobu Yukimura.”

“A blademaster.”

“Yes. He’s from Akaza. He was a great swordsman, better than anyone else I’ve ever faced. It was through sparring with him that I became what I am today. His Padawan, Maia Ibari, was my age. She didn’t have his knack for swordsmanship, but she was a great huntress.”

“I see… on special assignment for the Jedi Council.” She looked disappointed. “I was hoping that at least one of your old trainers would be able to come and meet you.”

“What? Why? They can’t see me like this! You want them to see me like this?!”

“Yes. You need all the support we can get you. Kira, Jasme, and your T7 aren’t enough. I’m going to ask Satele to be another you can lean on. Be sure to accept her help. Okay?”

“…” Vajra was reluctant, but in the end, all he could say was, “Okay.”

“Please forgive me for writing, instead of saying all of this in person. I’ve always had difficulty being open about my feelings, but I’ve become even more isolated in the years since being given my title. Maybe you can imagine. She’s a little awkward in her personal life, so try to make her feel comfortable.”

“She’s awkward?”

“I know, right? With her refined manner and impeccable taste, she just might be one of the most charming people in the galaxy! But she’s got her own weaknesses, the same as anyone else.”

“I’ll be mindful.”

“Good. I’ll go talk to her right now. Go back to your room. I’ll come there with her when we’re ready.”

“That day, when you saved so many lives on Tython, including your closest friend’s… you saved mine too.”

Satele reflected on that feeling. Never had she known such raw gratitude before. It was the sort of overwhelming emotion that typically saw maidens offer themselves to someone who’d just saved them.

“I’m not used to that anymore, or to Jasme being in danger at all. She may have already told you how I barely let her out of my sight in those dread hours, as if I could have protected her myself from what was coming. What’s more, the entire Jedi leadership was in peril of being wiped out. Their deaths alone would have been a more devastating and lasting blow than the Sacking of Coruscant had been. And then there are the archives. Pure luck was all that spared them the last time. This time, they’d have been lost for sure. If things had gone differently, my final thoughts would have been how the Jedi suffered such a mortal blow under my leadership. About how utterly I had failed at my entire life’s work. You spared me that. You spared all of us. The Council, High Command, the Senate, the Supreme Chancellor. People all over the Republic don’t realize just how much you saved that day. I’m sorry if this seems to lack humility, but I do not deserve to die with a regret that large. I may have been a poor mother, lover, and friend. But I gave my life to serving the Jedi and the Republic. I have dedicated every breath to that service. Seeing the Jedi survive such a threat was vindication of a sort.

“There are only twelve people who have saved me from the jaws of death, Vajra. Fewer still, who have saved everything I have fought for. And that is why I can no longer ignore what you have become to me; a second son. I can never fully adopt you, as my daughter has. But know that I will love and support you as best I can. There is a place for you in my heart.

I’ll see you soon, Satele.”

As she considered her words, her doorbell began to ring. Rather insistently too. She knew that the embarrassed part of her would stand a better chance at prevailing upon her to scrap this message, so she hit ‘send’ before answering the door. She only hoped there were no mistakes in her wording, or grammar. That would be terribly embarrassing for the Grand Master of the Jedi Order.

Vajra returned to find an extra occupant in his room.

“Ah, look who’s back!” Bengel smiled. “How was the session?”

“Not bad,” Vajra returned the smile. “We talked a lot about Master WenSuul.” He turned to the newcomer. “Who’re you?”

“Who am I?” The handsome man voiced a disappointed huff. He rounded on Kira with a flourish of his green robes, which Vajra noted, were the same color of his eyes. “Kira, I see you haven’t shown your former master any of the portraits I sent you! Have you even told him anything yet?”

“The timing’s a little bad, alright?” Kira had a half-exasperated, half-embarrassed. “I don’t think we need to talk about this now. Why are you even here?”

“Why am I here? Why am I here?” He drew himself up theatrically. “Oh, my dear! I’m here to help my sweet little warhead.” Kira blushed at that last word. Was that what he called her? Did that mean…

The man who could only be Kira’s boyfriend turned back to Vajra. His bow was worthy of the Alderaanian noble houses. “My name is Seraphim Abbot. Freshly returned from another terribly daring mission!”

“Ohhh, it’s nice to meet you at last,” Vajra offered him a hand uncertainly. “I’m sorry for not meeting you sooner. You’re a very important person to one of my closest friends after all.”

“Indeed,” Abbot raised his head. “It’s a travesty, a shame! To think she did her best to keep us from meeting! The lengths she took, the threats she made!”

“The drama classes she skipped,” Jasme giggled. She seemed to be bursting with amusement and happiness. “Just tell him already!”

“Oh, as you wish, Madam. You see, shortly after the two of you were hailed Heroes of Tython, I asked Kira to marry me. And she said yes.”

“Huh?!” Vajra’s jaw dropped. Kira buried her face in Seraphim’s back. Jasme began bouncing and making high pitched, squealing noises like a bird that had just seen her fledgelings take flight for the first time. “Th-this-this is…” Vajra giggled and sputtered uncontrollably. “Kira, can you come out so I can congratulate you?”

Kira poked her head out from behind Seraphim’s back. Her eyes were mortified and embarrassed. Her cheeks were bright pink. “You’re not angry?” she asked. “That I said ‘yes’ when you were missing?”

“How long can you keep your life on hold?” Seraphim boomed, pulling her around him. His dark arms held her firmly as she squirmed. “He’s happy you didn’t stop living, yes?”

“I am,�� Vajra confirmed. He seized Kira’s hand and wrung it tightly. “Have you picked a date? A venue?”

“It’ll be a long engagement.” Kira’s answer was forced. “Aren’t you annoyed he chose now to spring it?”

“What better time?” Jasme choked. “He needs the mood lift! Just look at him; that’s the first smile I’ve seen on his face in years! The first smile in years!”

“Years?”

“Well, I haven’t seen you smile since you left for Nar Shaddaa.”

“Ah, yes. The Power Guard Project,” Seraphim snorted in disgust. “Yes, I’m in the loop. So anyway. Kira told me of your troubles. Confessed, more like. She didn’t admit it easily. So, I thought I’d come over and offer you my support. You’re the second most important person in her life, after all.”

“But… but… but… you’re getting married?” Vajra stared at Kira, feeling warm and giddy.

“It will be a long engagement,” she repeated with a slightly pleading expression. “Damn, I knew it felt weird! I’m still just twenty! I never expected to get married before my twenty-fifth…”

“And we can leave it that long!” Abbot promised her. “Or longer.”

“What will you do once you marry?” Vajra pressed. “Will you stay in the Order? Will you try to get a permanent assignment together? Do you want to have children?” He gasped. “Would I be… like their uncle?”

“Only if you live,” Abbot said, turning sombre. “Although this is the first time we’re meeting, I’ve heard so much about you already… I feel like I was right there when you stopped Tarnis. Or saved Alderaan.”

Vajra did his best not to look at Kira. She’d never talked to him about Abbot, not in all those months on Alderaan. Whenever he’d pressed her for details after a furtive date, she’d told him about what they did, but refused to talk about the man himself. He figured she simply didn’t want her lives to overlap. Perhaps that had changed since he ran away.

“I want you there. At our official engagement—which is set a few months from now, our wedding, and every other event in between. Come, sit down. I want to get to know you better.”

Satele was not used to such a crude summons from the Council. Normally, it was done by emergency comms, not a messenger. But Oteg had returned with his team, and the news was apparently explosive.

It was almost enough to make her forgive unauthorized access to the Temple.

Almost. She would bring it up with him later. Couldn’t he have used the comms? Did he have to maintain his façade to this degree?

What did it matter? The Empire knew where Tython was now. But still…

I will bring it up with him after his report, she promised herself.

The second she emerged into the Temple proper, she felt a powerful presence wash over her. It was beyond anything she had ever felt before, both in power, and place in the Force. She had seen powerful Neutral Jedi and Sith before, but this… it felt equal parts powerful in Light and Dark Side. Like she and Darth Malgus were both standing in the same square meter. In harmony, no less. Yet it was one person, she was sure of it! Was such an incongruity even possible?

She met Jaric and Bela lingering outside the chamber, sharing in her incredulity.

“Grand Master,” Jaric bowed stiffly. “This day is… unfolding in an irregular manner, isn’t it?”

“We will discuss it after Master Oteg’s briefing,” Satele agreed. She entered the Council chamber to find an odd assortment of people inside. Oteg sat at his seat near the door. About fifteen soldiers, three of whom in Republic Special Forces armor, whose insignia she was all too familiar with. There were a few irregulars there too. The man with the pink hair looked familiar somehow. He was speaking to Oteg’s former Padawan, Nariel Pridence, who seemed oblivious to the man’s obvious interest. There were three other Jedi there; Karita Shalan, Rucja Barruq, and Harunobu Yukimura.

And there, in the center of the hall, was a tall man in battered robes. He was the Source of the Disturbance. He turned to face her, his face covered in the shadows of his hood.

“Good day, everyone. Welcome to Tython.” Though I see Oteg has already told you to make yourselves at home. “I hope we didn’t keep you waiting.” She passed by the hooded… Force user… on her way to her seat, but didn’t manage to get a good look at him. Once all the present Councillors were seated, she turned to Oteg. “I suppose you’ve finally decided that it’s time you told us what this is all about?”

“I believe that question is for me to answer,” the robed Force user spoke in a sonorous voice. Satele felt her blood run cold when the man revealed his face, but Jaric and a few others gave her a puzzled look which they shifted to Oteg.

“Am I supposed to know who this is?” Jaric grunted.

Revan smiled ruefully, and held up the mask which had served as his persona for so many years.

The result was instantaneous.

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