All Roads Lead To Tython: Part 5

The brisk mountain air and natural serenity seemed almost artificial as Cailen looked over the nearby cliff, to the violent battle that waged below. Distant rumbles of explosions and screams of pain rang out in the valley, but they seemed so disconnected from somber heights of the mountain pass. Cailen had regained enough strength to walk on his own, but he was beset by sudden waves of intense nausea and headaches as the war raged on Tython. The presence of the Dark Side was immense, and it was taking a huge toll of the Padawan.

Master Undara stayed several meters ahead, scouting the path as they traversed its rocky terrain. He feared that it may have been compromised by the Maw, who’s cultists and shock troopers had been using such fringe locations as points on ingress behind the Alliance’s defensive line. The landing pad wasn’t exactly a covert location, but it was certainly isolated. Perhaps the Mawites hadn’t picked up its location.

Cailen supposed it was used by Alliance survey teams or maybe troubled Jedi who sought the peaceful mountain range for meditative relief. Today, it would serve as an emergency pickup point. The Padawan stumbled over a jagged rock, but saved himself from falling. Undara halted ahead, pressing onward after seeing that the boy was fine. It was a strange sensation, feeling so off balanced.

Despite the ebb and flow of vertigo, Cailen persevered. So long as his Master was in sight ahead, he knew he’d be safe. The rocky path curved sharply inward, angling away from the cliff’s edge to the mountain’s interior. The Padawan cast a final glance over the drop, a deep emotional pang wracking him as he watched a Sith warrior strike down a Jedi Knight. It sickened him to feel so helpless, so distant from the battle. He knew it’d be a death sentence to join his fellow Jedi on the battlefield, but the pain of watching his brothers and sisters lose their lives felt just as terrible.

Cailen’s thoughts were interrupted as he stumbled over another pile of stones, but instead of looking up to see his Master surveying the trail ahead, he saw Undara mere inches away. The Jedi Master clamped his hand over Cailen’s mouth before the boy could speak. Undara’s eyes were wide and serious as he rose a finger to his lips, urging the Padawan to remain silent. Just past Undara’s face, a short distance away, Cailen saw one of the most horrific things he’d ever witnessed.

Several meters down the path were three Mawite warriors - hunters, by the looks of their equipment - hunched over the shredded body of an Alliance scout. The body was barely recognizable; Were it not for the Defense Force crest emblazoned on his pauldron, you’d never know the broken mass was once a soldier. Worse yet, the Mawites were viciously tearing at the trooper’s flesh and consuming it with their bare hands. Cailen’s eyes widened, but Undara’s grave expression stifled the scream of terror that rose in his throat. The Jedi Master saw Cailen begin to wobble, and clamped a hand firmly on the boy’s shoulder to stabilize him.

‘Beasts’ was the word Master Undara had used to describe the Mawites, but it now seemed too polite an adjective. These… things, these… savages… they were eating another person. It was a horrifically surreal scene that made his head spin. If it weren’t for his Master’s hand on his shoulder, he might’ve fainted again right there. Fear of alerting them kept the Padawan reluctantly lucid. Confident that Cailen wouldn’t scream, Undara slowly retracted his hand.

“Don’t move,” Undara mouthed soundlessly.

Cailen gulped. There was only one ‘safe’ route to the landing pad, and this was it… he shuddered to think of what may lay ahead. Was the landing pad overrun, a staging ground for Mawite hunters? Had it been bombed? Was the shuttle waiting for them there? Could the crew have been cannibalized as well? He stopped the whirlwind of thoughts before they dizzied him too much.

Master Undara crept slowly into the middle of the path. He took immense care to plant each foot delicately so as not to alert the cannibals. Cailen was sure a loose stone would roll out of place, or the shifting of gravel would be just loud enough, but the hunters remained fixated on their grotesque meal. He admired the way Undara moved. It wasn’t unlike Cailen’s own footwork in the shipyards of Anaxes. There had been dozens of occasions when he’d crept among the rusted hulls of ships while evading bullies, much like his Master now with the cannibals.

By now, Undara had positioned himself dangerously close to the Mawite hunters. Cailen was still trying to ascertain his plan when the Jedi Master ignited his lightsaber in a brilliant glow of deep-yellow. The unmistakable buzz of the blade as it sliced through the crisp mountain air elicited a blood-curdling scream from one of the hunters, but it was cut short as the saber made quick work of the pack. In nearly the blink of an eye, the cannibals lay in a heap around the Alliance corpse, dismembered and cauterized from the flurry. Without skipping a beat, Undara sheathed his lightsaber and wrapped his arm around Cailen.

“It’s not far now, but we must hurry,” the Jedi Master said.

The death of the Mawites had a strangely euphoric effect on Cailen’s physical state; It was as if all the Darkness they emanated was somehow sapping the Padawan’s energy, and now that they were destroyed, he felt a surge of maneuverability return to his body. Despite this renewal, Cailen accepted his Master’s aide. He wasn’t sure just how much exertion he could handle, and a cannibal-infested mountain pass was certainly not the place to find out.

“Not far now, Cailen,” his Master repeated. “Not far now.”