Warden ran his fingers through his short white hair as he strode down the Bazaar on Planet Vecorian. Under his arm he carried a neatly folded bundle. He chuckled as he thought of the expense he was going to for a dinner party. True, it was his first official dinner party as an Assistant Administrator Executive, and he wanted to look good. Three years ago, when he'd worked with that band of Wookies, they'd crashed a similar party in their work clothes, laughing and roaring drunk. Well, the Wookies and a few others had been drunk; Warden barely touched the stuff in heavy amounts. But tonight was going to be special; it was his official promotion. Lord Com Wedge and Myra Jade would be there, as would Rush and all the Smuggler Operatives from Bakura that could make it. The bundle contained his new uniform, tailored to his standards and to fit his athletic form. Not particularly impressive in size, he stood just shy of six feet. His muscles were hard and tight, rather than bulky. His handsome face was marred only by a scar that slashed down from his forehead over the bridge of his nose towards his left eye. Those eyes were piercing and a shade of emerald green rarely seen. Once again, he thought of the circumstances that led to his scar and white hair and sighed.
The loss of the clone of his wife still stung, and it had brought his wife's loss back in full force. And he still owed the Sith who had done the scarring of his soul and body, Jinn. The two had been squadmates at the Imperial Naval Academy and later in training for the Ubiqutorate's Special Forces. They had both been praised for skills in combat that outstripped their peers. But while Warden had been an exceptionally good pilot and gunfighter, Jinn had excelled in cruelty, and it was soon revealed that he was an excellent candidate to be a Sith apprentice. Warden left in disgust when the Sith told him he had the potential to be one of them. As far as he knew, the warrant for desertion still hung over his head. After the recent events on Goursh, the Ubiqutorate and the Sith would definitely be gunning for him. That was fine with him. Anyone who came gunning for him was going to find out that one didn't become a Smuggler's Band member, let alone a Krayt Squadron Inspector and Sector officer without proving that he was among the best.
As Warden rounded the bend he saw three members of a local street gang accosting a man dressed in off-white pants and a tunic of the same color. The punks were brandishing blasters and knives and demanding the man's money. Warden sighed and set his hand on the custom blaster at his side. He was about to draw and intervene when the man sighed and gestured. One of he gangers flew back against the wall, stunned in to dropping his knives. The other two pointed shaky blasters at the man. The man snorted and swung up his hands. With a snap-hiss his lightsaber ignited and he struck the blasters out of their limp fingers. The gangers backed up, holding their hands and cursing the man as a Sith Jedi. Warden moved up, drawing his blaster. The man seemed enraged at their accusations, but he did not strike, rather he shut down his lightsaber. "Leave!" he commanded. "A Jedi only strikes in self-defense. Leave before I lose my temper and have you arrested!"
Warden approached and cleared his throat. The man turned, revealing a travel-weary face, thick lashes surrounding a pair of smoldering dark eyes. "Ah, officer, these young men and I were merely discussing proper manners. Nothing to be concerned about."
Warden raised his eyebrows at being called "officer" and smiled bemusedly. "I saw the whole thing, sir. And you're quite right. A Sith would have killed these boys without blinking." Warden turned and regarded the trio of punks. One arched his eyebrows in alarm. "Shit! It's Captain Grimm!" Warden smiled openly now. "Boys, take yourselves off and may this be a lesson to you about accosting people on the streets. You never know who's better than you and when you're going to meet them."
The boys rushed off. The old man turned to Warden and smiled. "That was quite a piece of sage wisdom. They seem to know you... Captain?"
"My old title. Assistant Administrator Executive Warden Grimm, at your service. I'm the second-in-command around here. Can I offer you any assistance?"
"Maybe it is I who can help you, Warden." The old man smiled. "My name is Jericho. I have come to find you, it seems."
Warden stepped back and involuntarily dropped his hand to his blaster. "What?"
"Several weeks ago I felt a great anguish through the Force. I have been tracking that same signature. I followed it to this planet and now I sense it in you. May we talk somewhere?"
Warden eyed him for a few moments and then came to a decision. If he'd wanted to, he could have killed those kids. "We can talk in my office. Come on."
After getting Jericho a pass, a simple task with Warden doing the clearing, they entered Warden's spacious office. Deanie, his secretary, accosted him. "Sir, there have been numerous messages. Your ship's crew has finished its overhaul and they want your final approval. Also, Admiral Dessen called, he wants to set up a meeting about your positioning the Second Fleet here, instead of the First. Apparently he thinks that the more powerful of the two fleets should be the one to guard the governmental seat."
Warden sighed. "Call Dessen and tell him my decision stands." Warden remembered his prickly pride and added, "Tell him that I'll call him tomorrow. Also, please tell my crew that I am too busy for probably a long time. Download the rest of the messages to my viewer and I'll get to them later. Thanks." Warden ushered Jericho in and showed him to a seat.
"You certainly keep busy," Jericho arched his brows. "Do you think you're willing to sacrifice your time for us?"
"Us?" Warden looked at him, perplexed.
"Certainly, after all, I have come to train you in the ways of the Force." Jericho looked at Warden like he might look at a child being incredibly stupid.
"My training?" Warden leaned back. "Why don't you tell me something about yourself first, before we start to make commitments like that, huh?"
"All right," Jericho cleared his throat. "Might I have something to drink?"
Warden smiled and got up to pour something Deanie had introduced him to called lemonade. After he handed Jericho a glass, he sat back down. Jericho took a sip, smiled, and began.
"How old are you, my boy?"
"Twenty-nine."
"How old would you say I am?"
"Fifty or so."
"Try seventy or so." He laughed at Warden's arched eyebrows.
"I hope I look that good when I'm your age!" Warden grinned.
"Clean living, my boy. But to my story… I was a little younger than you are now when I met a quixotic old gentleman by the name of Jiles var Gaedin. He used to sit in the tavern I worked at and talk about his days as an apprentice to a small group of Jedi. When the Imperial Army occupied my planet, the Ubiqutorate sent out spies to find 'subversives.' Well, Gaedin certainly would have qualified. I helped him escape off planet when I left. When sober, he revealed that his time alone had not been wasted. I have never seen a man with more prowess and skill in all my travels. He taught me everything he had learned.
"He led a private war against the Sith Jedi, and he enlisted me to aid him in his quest. One night, on Kessel, we were trying to free several apprentice Jedi when the Sith caught up to us. Gaedin saved my life. In the most incredible display of the harmony between the Force and martial skills I have ever seen, he killed at least seven Sith before he died. Ever since then, I have waged my own war with the Sith. I find uncorrupted Force-sensitives like you and train them. Recently, I haven't been finding too many. I was greatly aided by Jedi Skywalker, and, more recently his niece and nephew.
"When I felt your pain, I was drawn to your Force signature. I saw the image of what that Sith was doing to you. I could sense your strength even at that distance. Now that I am here, I can sense your rage and the strength it gives you. I will teach you to harness your rage and your strengths. You have the potential to become my most powerful student ever. Please, let me teach you. If I can save your soul from the Dark Side, I will be grateful."
"Why?" Warden looked at Jericho evenly. "Why do you do these things?"
"Redemption," Jericho met his gaze. "I need to atone for failing to save my master."
"That's a long time, Jericho." Warden looked at him understandingly. "But I know what you mean. I will be atoning for my wife for the rest of my life." Warden told Jericho all that had passed, about the death of his wife, and of her clone. He told of Jinn, the Sith Jedi who had tortured him. "The Sith are hunting me and my friends. I need to be able to defend them and me. I will become your student." Warden rose and extended his hand to Jericho, who rose and clasped it warmly.
Two weeks later saw Warden in the gym, stripped to the waist and sweating like a madman. Jericho had been working him harder than he'd ever been worked. He'd barely slept in the past two weeks. When he'd been training for the Ubiqutorate Special Forces, they'd dropped his squad in the middle of the Tatooine desert, where they'd had a week-long survival trek, filled with attacks by Tusken Raiders and even a baby Sarlac. That had been a picnic at the beach compared to this. It was like Jericho didn't think he had much time left, so he was cramming everything into him. Now Warden could leap high, run fast, and lift objects. And for the past ten days, he had been receiving training in the lightsaber, at which Jericho told him he was a natural. Jericho was superb swordsman, and an excellent teacher. Warden was learning how to focus the Force to aid his fighting skills.
At the end of that day's session, Warden and Jericho had dinner with Rush and Kai. Warden didn't last long, and excused himself. Jericho followed. "Warden..."
"What is it, Jericho?" Warden gave his mentor a tired smile.
"I wanted to thank you for allowing me to teach you." Jericho laid a hand on his shoulder. "You have been my most apt pupil and a natural student of the Force. One day, you may even be able to enter the ranks of the full-fledged Jedi. You have all the skills necessary to teach yourself. Do not neglect yourself, my boy." Jericho pulled Warden into a quick embrace.
"You sound like you're leaving." Warden clasped his teacher close and then released him.
"If I leave you, it will not be my choice." Jericho gave him a sad smile. "But we all have a destiny, my son." Jericho left, walking towards the gardens.
Warden sat bolt upright in bed, sweat sheened his body. He could have sworn he'd heard Jericho in his sleep. He turned on the light but saw no one.
Good bye, my son...
There it was again, and with it, an image: Jericho with his lightsaber drawn, facing men in hooded black robes. Warden shot out of bed, scrabbling for a weapon. His own lightsaber came into his hand, and he was out the door, dressed only in his sleeping pants. The guards in the corridor started as he rushed past, running as fast as his newly-conditioned body could push itself. Without even thinking, Warden ran for the gardens. His path took him on a walkway overlooking them. Down below, he saw Jericho facing at least four men in the black robes of the Sith. As he watched, Jericho, that greatest of swordsmen, engaged all four, lightsaber spinning and flashing as he fought. Warden saw another shape hanging back, watching.
As Warden stood there, he watched as Jericho felled one of his opponents. But the slash had left him open, and a blow sent him crashing to his knees. The one who had hung back ignited his lightsaber and strode forward. With one contemptuous look, he slashed his lightsaber through Jericho's neck. Jericho's body disappeared, leaving only the white robes he had worn.
Warden let out a feral scream and leaped off the balcony, igniting his lightsaber. He plunged down onto the Sith, killing one with a blow through his chest. He spun on his right leg, slashing the throat of another. The other three pulled back, two flanking the third. The one who had murdered Jericho removed his hood, revealing a cruel, angular face. "Warden! The cut healed well! Must say I liked you with black hair better."
"Jinn..." Warden's face tightened in remembered pain and all too real grief. "I am going to kill you. Now.",/p>
"Not today, I'm afraid." Jinn gestured to the other two. "Kill him." They advanced in a flurry of blows and Warden was hard pressed to stop them. Jinn melted into the shadows. Warden screamed in rage, and focused his mind. The combat was a blur. When his breathing slowed, he stood over the bodies of the slain. He knelt and gathered up the robes and lightsaber of his mentor. Unbidden, the tears began to roll down his cheeks.
Do not grieve, my son. It was my time.
"Jericho?"
I will be with you always, my pupil. I haven't left you yet. Take care.
When the guards arrived, they found Warden kneeling over a pile of robes, surrounded by corpses. Sergeant Kiune approached tentatively. Warden looked at him, and whispered, "I'll take care of everything. Don't bother looking for anyone, you'll never catch him, and even if you did, you wouldn't survive. There are enough dead tonight, save one. And when I find him, it will be a reckoning."
