Eventually you will construct your own lightsaber

[Jantar Keltainen]

Honesty pays sometimes. Jantar considered keeping up a ruse of not being a Sith and engaging the Jedi to help her, but she decided it was too much effort and was also too risky. Better to partner someone who was fully aware of what they were getting into. It made improvisations easier and avoided complications should the truth come out at an inopportune time.

The advertisement was simple and to the point.

JEDI WANTED

Required to partner a Sith in stealing a valuable artefact. The potential for death in pursuit of the prize cannot be ruled out. The fee reflects this.

No wanted criminals, high-profile bounties or time-wasters please.

Jantar thought the ‘please’ superfluous, but her education did not allow her to omit the word. It was simply impolite not to say it. Even for a Sith.

And the price for assistance was hefty. Enough to buy a large island, a private retreat with a full complement of servants, a decent sized luxury ship and a sizeable nest-egg to enjoy retirement with.

Despite her clear instructions, Jantar was annoyed to find most of the applicants were either criminals, had a large bounty on their head or simply unsuitable – on account of them not being Jedi. She compiled a list and placed it in order of least to most annoying candidates. She might just pay them all a visit when this was over. They deserved no less.

So, her ideal candidate was the front-runner by default. He fit the bill in a way he could never understand at this point - and was immediately available.

“What’s not to like,” Jantar said out loud as she responded to his message. Then she plotted a course for their rendezvous and went for a nap.

 

[Jantar Keltainen]

Jantar awoke with a start. Was it a vivid dream or another instance of Farseeing. Occurrences of premonitions in dreams had become more common since she had connected to the Force. She could even force them from time to time, if she gave the subject in hand enough concentration. Which she rarely did, having the attention span of a… Jantar saw the streaks of light outside her cockpit morph into pinpricks of light and heard the ship’s computer confirm she was no longer in hyperspace.

Now, what was she thinking about?

She waved away any effort to remember. “If it’s important, it will come back to me,” she said out loud. She screwed her eyebrows together. “Is that true? Is it even logical?”

She shrugged and punched in the coordinates to land before heading for a shower.

Once she was naked, she remembered the dream! The Jedi. The Jedi and her were...

Not the worst vision in the world, even if it was no more than a dream.

#​

Clad all in black, she waited for the autopilot to land her ship and then stepped off into the spaceport. Sje wore a typical Sith colak, albeit hand-made and the finest silk. Underneath she wore figure hugging leather and high boots. Finest Firaxan Shark leather to be precise.

And attached to her belt, hidden by the folds of her cloak, was the saber her master had loaned her. It had a yellow blade, which was not offensive to a Sith like a blue or green saber would be – and could pass for being a Jedi’s weapon too.

On the other hip she wore a blaster pistol and tucked into the waistband of her trousers, in the small of her back, she carried a holdout too. It paid to look as though you could look after yourself without advertising you were a Force sensitive.

 

[Jantar Keltainen]

Jantar pulled the hood from off her head as she entered the cantina. It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the light. She chose not to sweep the joint. She knew every eye would be on herat this moment. Plenty of time to scope the clientele once she had a drink in her hand.

Jantar walked up to the bar and ordered a beer. An expensive imported bottled beer – but a beer nonetheless. And a Corellian whiskey chaser.

She downed the latter and took a large slug from the former. Then she turned her back to the bar as nonchalantly as she could and surveyed the patrons, spotting her contact immediately.

He was not exactly as he had appeared in her dream. The memory of which would make most mortals blush – but not Jantar. But she had to supress a wicked grin.

Her first impression was that the Jedi was a lot scruffier than she expected. And dirtier too. His robes looked significantly the worse for wear and his face was gaunt. Drawn. His eyes told a different story. They were green and had an almost wild look about them. He was taller than she was and had a slight build. Wiry would be a positive descriptor. Skinny, less so.

Having gained eye contact, Jantar walked straight over to the booth he was sitting in and took a seat opposite him.

 

[Jantar Keltainen]

Neuk had tried to tame his wild light brown hair for the meeting. He could do little for the worn-out robes and he figured the unshaved look would not be a problem. But hair that looked as though he was a close relative to a nerf?

He licked his palm and tried to flatten a stray lock as the cantina door opened. She was punctual for a Sith. Did that even mean anything? Were Sith known for being late? Or the rest of the galaxy early by contrast? Were Jedi notoriously on-time?

He realised his thoughts were rambling and he had to glance around the room to locate her. She was by the bar and he stared at her, hoping to gain eye contact.

Bingo!

She wandered across. She was attractive enough…if you could get past the whole Sith sorceress thing. Neuk wondered where those words came from. They resonated in his subconscious and clearly referred to someone else.

He realised his mind was wandering again and he smiled as she sat down. She seemed petite and pretty, with strawberry blonde hair that looked a deeper shade of red in this light.

“You don’t look like a Sith,” he offered, by way of a conversation opener. He winced at his crass stupidity.

 

[Jantar Keltainen]

Jantar raised an eyebrow. On another day she would have laughed. Or slapped him. Or both. But today she was an employer and she decided to play it straight. Or rather she tried. For about five seconds.

“And a Sith looks like what? Dirty, smelly, hair all over the place, hollowed eye sockets? On that basis, you’d be a shoe-in if they were recruiting.”

They stared at each other for a few seconds and then both burst out laughing at the same time.

“Let’s start again,” Neuk said, offering his hand. “I’m Neuk Mhairi. Jedi as requested. No criminal record. No known bounty and currently between Orders. Is this an interview or have I already got the gig?”

Jantar nodded as he spoke. “No record, although some misdemeanours are most unsolved crimes that suggest there are certain planets you might choose to avoid returning to.”

Neuk blushed. “The Hutt thing was a misunderstanding and how was I to know that pink wasn’t his colour? And as for the Holocron, only a Jedi would be able to know it wasn’t genuine. And, to be fair, I never claimed it was, I merely acquired it for the Rodian.”

Jantar smiled. It was an in-between smile, and it would be hard to decipher her demeanour from the facial gesture. “The only bounty is the standard one for Jedi, so we can ignore that. So yes, this is an interview. If we hit it off, we work together – it’s as simple as that.”

“In a rush, Sith?” Neuk asked and immediately regretted it.

“Sorry,” he said as he put a hand under the table to rub his now painful shin.

“Call me ‘Sith’ once more and I walk. You have to get that thought out of your head. I’m a Jedi, right? I need you because some of the security we will face can only be by-passed by a light sider. The naïve property owner thought a Jedi would never steal and so put the protection in place. Idiot.”

It was Neuk’s turn to nod. “Indeed, although I have never actually stolen anything. Borrowed, yes, but never with the intent of not returning.”

Jantar raised her other eyebrow.

“Except for food of course. I can’t precisely return that, but it was never for personal gain, just to avoid starvation.”

 

[Jantar Keltainen]

“Worst thing you have ever done?”

Neuk thought for a second. Any number of flippant responses came to mind but he knew the question deserved a serious answer. “I turned my back on the vows of my Order.”

“The chains?” Jantar asked, “As we like to refer to them.”

“No, not chains,” Neuk replied, solemly. “A code of conduct that I swore to honour. Through choice not conscription. I betrayed the trust the Order placed in me and turned my back on the weak and the needy. I focused on me and my needs.”

“We’re not so different,” Jantar said and held up a hand as she suspected Neuk would argue the point. “No, not the same, far from it. But not so different. We place self-needs ahead of any other. That’s not to say we are good or bad – I do not judge in that way – but we look out for ourselves. Does that make us selfish? I don’t have an issue with that term. Do you?”

Neuk sighed. “I do, but it fits, so I can’t complain too loudly, can I?”

“OK,” Jantar said, waving to the bartender to refresh their drinks, “Down to business.”

 

[Jantar Keltainen]

Whilst Neuk showered, Jantar contacted a local tailor with measurements she’d surmised as they travelled from the cantina to her ship.

By the time Neuk had eaten a hearty meal, three sets of Jedi robes were in his cabin and two pairs of brown boots too.

For her part, Jantar had ordered two sets for herself – she figured a shade of muddy brown less conspicuous for a Jedi than shades of ebony.

Once they’d changed, Jantar plotted a course and returned to the main seating area of the ship and began to explain the plan.

“This is all about a need to know. I can’t and won’t share the full plan today – but rather share it slightly ahead of time. You’ll never be caught out and never be in a position to sell my plan to the highest bidder.”

Neuk understood and did not complain. If the roles were reversed, he’d do exactly the same. His heritage was hardly a boon. If he was true to form, he’d do anything to stop a Sith. And if he played to his current stereotype, he’d sell her for a stake at the poker table.

“Our desires align right now,” Jantar continued. “You are a necessary resource for me and are vital to the success of this mission. And I hold the credits you so greatly need.”

“I won’t ask you to do anything that would put you at odds with your Code, other than the minor misdemeanours you are currently happy to perform.”

"I cannot act alone. For the duration of this mission, we have each other’s lives in our hands. But rest assured, betray me and I’ll ensure you die before I do."

It was the closest to a threat she’d uttered since they met, but she delivered the words not with an icy steel but with the assured tone of a business partnership, pointing out the obvious clause in their arrangement.

Neuk nodded. “Understood.”

 

[Jantar Keltainen]

“What I haven’t told you so far, is our target. I chose you because you know him. Or rather you know who set up his defences. It was a Jedi. Your former Master.”

Neuk’s brow knitted at this point. He’d turned his back on the Order but did not want to have anything to do with bringing disrepute to his former teacher. He was about to say as much when Jantar turned a datapad she had been looking at to face Neuk.

It was a simple news item and detailed the passing of a Jedi Master. Neuk’s master.

“You can’t hurt him.”

Neuk stared at the words and a tear formed in his eye. Attachments were frowned on by the Order but emotions were real and should not be suppressed – but rather accepted and not allowed to influence decisions.

Jantar gave him some space and went to check on the travel arrangements before returning a few minutes later.

 

[Jantar Keltainen]

“I’ve never lost anyone,” she said. “I’ve never had anyone to lose. But I’ve seen its effect on folk and understand how grief can impact people. But you’re a Jedi and need to move on.”

Neuk agreed. Had he known his master was dead, would he have still taken the job? In his heart he knew the answer. Yes, he would. He was not about to rush back to the Jedi a changed man, seeking forgiveness. He was who he was and his path might meander from time to time but it was his path and there were no U-turns on it. Not even right angles.

“I’m good,” he said. “Now…the plan.”

 

[Jantar Keltainen]

“Security systems claim to be objective..dispassionate…a combination of schematics and algorithms. But in my experience they all have a personality. One that’s linked to the creator’s way of thinking. You knew your master. You know what he knows, what he values. What he fears.”

“Ideally this would be a one-person job. I’d ideally planned to do it on my own, clean and simple. A partner tends to just get in the way. But my intelligence says I need a Jedi. And fate brought me you. You couldn’t have been more perfect for the job than if I’d hand picked you.”

Neuk wondered if the Force was at work, throwing them together in a series of bizarre coincidences. He shrugged it off. Thinking like that could get you killed.

Jantar smiled. “I know a lot about you, but you haven’t asked anything about me. Why?”

“You don’t want me to call you Sith. Even inadvertently. So that’s the last time you and that word will cross my lips in the same sentence. The less I know about you, the easier it is for me to forget your past and not let slip who you really are.”

“Who I really am?” Jantar echoed. “I am Jantar. Born, no…correct that…raised on Coruscant. An orphan who discovered she was Force sensitive later in life than the typical Padawan. Every word true and repeatable regardless of the company.”

“I’m also a spoiled little rich kid who is used to getting her own way.”

“And the relevance of that is?”

“I need to tell you about this dream I had.”

 

[Jantar Keltainen]

Jantar slipped from the sheets and padded to the shower. “Get me a stimcaf and some scrambled eggs.”

Neuk watched her go and then got out of the bed, pulling on his Jedi cloak before seeking breakfast.

 

[Jantar Keltainen]

As she showered, Jantar wondered how the partnership would develop. She didn’t see their recent dalliance as having a bearing. For her it was nothing more watching a holovid or eating a meal in a restaurant.

No, her potential misgivings were based upon their habit of working alone. They operated in darkened alleys, or isolated outposts. But always alone. No one else to keep track of, to be beholden to, or to worry about. Jantar knew that everyone she associated with was, potentially, happy to quite literally stab you in the back, all the wondering just melted away. Simple. Clean. Uncomplicated.

But they had more in common than the Jedi would have immediately admitted to. They were driven and focused. Once they had an element of mutual trust, Jantar believed they could depend on each other.

And the flirting? It was helpful banter to reduce any friction and keep them working well together.

 

[Jantar Keltainen]

Coruscant. Jantar wasn’t lying when she said that was where she grew up. But it was doubly relevant, considering where they were going.

And it was not for the prize. Not immediately. Jantar needed some things in place before she could make her final move. And she was back on home soil – if you could use that term on a planet that was in fact one big city.

Level 1425 was so named because it was one thousand, four hundred, and twenty-five levels from the core of the planet. It was easier to think of it that way rather than focusing on the weight of almost four thousand other levels between oneself and the surface.

The difference between Coruscant's literal and figurative ‘underworld’ and the one that actually saw the sun was sufficiently stark that they might as well be located in two different systems. Crimes that would be viewed as horrendous above were everyday occurrences down here.

Neuk wondered how many would be born, live, and die here, never having glimpsed the sun, let alone the stars. Jantar didn’t think that way because she didn’t care. It had no direct impact on her, so she paid it no heed. Her companion, on the other hand, was at heart a Jedi and could not change his spots, however much stubble he grew on his chin.

They strode past shivering figures with hands outstretched to small fires burning in metal drums. Voices called out. The requests varied: food, credits, death-sticks, spice. And then there were the offers: death-sticks, spice and a variety of personal services. Jantar might not have blushed, but Neuk did.

With a gentle brush of the Force, a flick of a finger, and a noncommittal smile, Neuk caused each inquirer to forget they had seen them, focusing on their goal: a bar that looked like every other bar he had visited in the last few years.

 

[Jantar Keltainen]

Neuk had forgotten how much he loved this part of a mission: when anything and everything could happen, when it was all new and exciting and hadn't yet devolved into something dirty, complicated, and illegal.

The door hissed open to admit them. Though the air was hazy with the smoke of various substances being burned, Neuk could nonetheless make out the forms of females of various species gyrating to the thump of loud, primal music. Quickly he scanned the place, looking for the individuals Jantar had described. The Sith, for her part, was using the Force to supress her own Force signature. This way she subdued any darkness and appeared a weak Padawan in comparison to the moderately strong Knight by her side.

A green-skinned, reptilian Trandoshan, sat at the bar. He was the main target. But Neuk spotted the others, skulking in the darker corners of the establishment. They could be spoken to later.

Most of the patrons were huddled deep in conversation, but there was an empty space near the Trandoshan. Neuk strode up, getting the server droid's attention and, gesturing to what appeared to be the drink of choice for the establishment, said cheerily to no one in particular, “Hey, how's it going?”

Jantar kept her hood up and did her best to look as inconspicuous as possible.

A couple of the patrons gave the Jedi sidelong glances, but no one replied. Undaunted, Neuk took a seat, nodding to the droid who slid a cup filled with something thick, dark and decidedly unpleasant smeeling in his direction, and continued. “Anyone have any leads on any jobs going?”

The Trandoshan hissed in either amusement or annoyance - or maybe both.

“This ain't no hospitality service. You're either in the know, or you ain't. And clearly…you ain't.”

With this curt comment, he turned back to his drink, clearly feeling he had said all that needed to be said.

Neuk gave it a beat, knocked back his drink as if he welcomed the horrible taste, then said casually, “I guess that Rodian slicer has sewn up all the jobs down here. Why do people think that hacking is the answer to every problem? What’s wrong with a little muscle from time to time?”

The constant murmur paused among those within earshot for a few seconds, and then – as if aware they had drawn attention to themselves by stopping – they resumed their eating, drinking and talking. The Trandoshian laughed.

“He’s ruining it for all of us,” he said and clapped Neuk on the shoulder with a three-fingered, clawed hand.

“Where is he these days?”

The Trandoshan's eyes narrowed slightly. “No idea.”

“I'd like to get a little payback. Know what I mean?” Jantar sensed the Force at work as Neuk spoke.

The reptilian regarded him for a moment longer, then seemed to make a decision. “I know someone who might know.”

He rose and started across the room, shoving his way through the crowd with no finesse and a great deal of confidence. Neuk followed his new best friend to a booth back in one of the darkest corners of the bar and Jantar remained at the bar. She was an unnecessary distraction right now.

Seated in the booth was a shaven-headed young man. “This guy is looking for the Slicer…the Rodian.”

“Why do you want to know,” the young man asked.

“I got cheated out of a couple of big payouts,” Neuk said, keeping it simple. The best lies were.

“You think you can make some trouble for his? Loosen his grip on the work?”

“I'm certain of it.”

The young man nodded, seemingly satisfied. “All right. I got a tip he took a job on Dantooine. Near the old Rakatan ruins. What good a slicer is out there, I don’t know – but customers love him because he delivers.”

The Trandoshian nodded. “And takes food from our mouths.”

 

[Jantar Keltainen]

An olive, blue, and brown colored world, Dantooine was remote from the bustle of the galactic trade routes. Two moons floated in the skies above the savannahs of lavender and yellow grasses.
Separated by forests of spiky blba trees, colonists maintained individual family estates largely isolated from each other.

A specific site would have been more helpful – a cantina, an estate or even a client – but Neuk had learned to cultivate patience. His partner was on the opposite end of the spectrum.

Neuk’s augmented gaze travelled over the grasslands near the site old Rakatan technology had been found. They were dark times for the Jedi. But then, that could refer to most eras in their history.

The day was a pleasant one, and the Jedi enjoyed the sun on his face. Jantra, by contrast, was pacing up and down – eager to move.

Occasionally a speeder passed by and Jantar looked to Neuk expectantly. Finally, after six hours of waiting the Jedi whistled to the Sith as a speeder approached.

They jumped into their own hired vehicle and followed the vehicle. Given how quiet it was, it was impossible to hang back too far, or else they could lose him. So they kept a healthy distance, sometimes gaining and other times slowing down.

Finally, the speeder reached its destination – what passed as an upmarket hotel in this region. Neuk and Jantar pulled up near the Rodian.

The Roadian stared at them. Jantar was unconcerned that they had been made. Nobody could escape them. She jumped from the speeder and walked toward him casually, smiling as he exited his own vehicle. And then took off.

Let the chase begin.

There was nowhere to hide, no crowds to get lost in. Jantar wondered why he ran. Perhaps it was simply a primeval urge.

Jantar was not averse to giving chase and with Neuk at her side, she knew it was only a matter of time before they caught the Rodian. It was a relief to be moving, after the many hours of standing about.

The Force buoyed her and guided her, and the prey was not so clever as to be entirely unpredictable to her keen senses. Whereas their quarry expended unnecessary energy weaving from side to side, the two Force users conserved their energy.

But – inevitably – she grew bored.

She allowed the Force tell her what he would do next, and followed its guidance. She cut a corner when he sought to throw her off by racing ahead. She smiled to herself as she dived atop him.

They slammed hard to the ground. The impact forced her to tumble away from him, and she leapt lightly to her feet, facing him. Suddenly she caught a flurry of movement out of the corner of her eye and a figure sailed across her field of vision. The Rodian went down beneath it.

Neuk stood, with the Rodian in an armlock and hardly a hair out of place.

 

[Jantar Keltainen]

“I didn't do anything wrong!” the Slicer cried.

From what Neuk remembered, slicing was considered wrong on just about every planet. But everyone always said they didn't do anything wrong. That's what usually comes first: protestations of innocence.

“I don't care,” Jantar replied. “So many people would like to see you dead, your innocence is entirely irrelevant. You’re a businessman, you should understand that.”

“If it's money you want, I have plenty!”

Bribery: That invariably comes second.

“I’m being reimbursed well enough not to need your credits. My reputation counts for more.”

“I’m just a victim of my own success. They’re all jealous.”

“How touching,” Jantar went on. “And that is my problem how?” Her bored voice sounded icy cold too. She was good.

“We must be able to come to some arrangement, surely?”

 

[Jantar Keltainen]

Jantar lounged against the side of the Rodian’s ship. It was a flat, disc-shaped pursuit craft. Its two engines were powerful, and boasted a cockpit bristling with weapons. It sported a turret-mounted triple blaster atop it, and the cockpit had two anti-personnel blasters and two heavier laser cannons. It was made for two purposes – hitting hard, and getting away fast – and if that wasn’t enough, it was cloaked. Which is why Jantar wanted it.

It was the only way to get to their destination unimpeded and if she used a ship she bought then the theft could be traced back to her. Now, she had access to a ship that if anyone could fathom it’s origins would lead them back to a dead Rodian.

Jantar assumed he was dead. They’d arranged from him to be delivered to the Trandoshian and friends. No blood had been spilt and he was hardly a moral, upright citizen of the galaxy. Neuk’s protestations were minimal.

 

[Jantar Keltainen]

While the ship bore them through hyperspace, Neuk decided it was time for some sparring. Jantar reluctantly agreed and they went down into the cargo hold.

Neuk grinned. “You think all foes are honourable. All Jedi play by some rule book? Too much training happens in the rarefied air of an academy. Or the sterilised confines of some vast training arena. It does not lend itself to fighting in real-life.”

“I’ve learned so much more by fighting in back-alleys, or in bars – or in zero-g environments. Sometimes there are people around you. In others you have things to use and further times you have nothing to hide behind. Get used to training in different places – and learn to improvise”

As the young Sith limbered up – Neuk had convinced her this should be unarmed combat, as Jantar needed the development – and was settling into position, he sprang.

Jantar was taken by surprise. “What the ka–”

She darted to the right, her hand closing on his ankle. Deftly, he twisted in mid-air. Jantar almost dodged his other foot as it descended onto her face. She did, however, turn her head so the kick struck her cheek and not her nose. The grunt of pain was audible throughout the ship.

Neuk let her catch her breath, and they circled. “Quick reaction, grabbing my foot,” he said.

She smirked. “See? I’m better than you thi–”

She blocked the lightning-fast punch but Neuk seized her other arm and pulled – and Jantar was thrown.

She landed on the hard metal of the cargo floor and his knee was already on her throat. He then stood up and extended a hand to haul Jantar to her feet.

“You performed better than expected,” he said. “But you can do better.”

 

[Jantar Keltainen]

After the first few sessions, Jantar found herself enjoying it.

Not only did Neuk fight dirty and ruthlessly, but he fought extraordinarily well. Jantar made a point of utilising the moves he had taught him on their subsequent fights.

 

[Jantar Keltainen]

There wasn’t much space aboard the ship, only two small cabins, a shared head, a tiny galley, and the cargo hold.

They sat in the galley, they’d exit hyperspace in the morning and Neuk cradled a cup of Corellian Whiskey as he pondered the question that had been bothering him since they’d met. Something he’d lied about.

“So,” he finally asked, plucking up the courage to speak. “You know everything about me. What about you? What’s your story?”

He was expecting some kind of wisecrack – a deflection from the truth. What little he understood of her, she was a spoiled little rich kid with more credits than she could spend. Why had she become a Sith?

Instead, Jantar looked as if she had no idea how to answer. She turned her head, gazing up at nothing. “You know,” she said, her voice touched with surprise, “I don’t think I have a story.”

“Everyone has a story,” Neuk pressed, caution now thrown away.

She raised her head, took a sip of the alcohol and set the mug on the table between them. “Not me. I mean...I’ve done things, seen things. Things have happened to me. But...I don’t think I have a story.”

Neuk let it go and Jantar was pleased. She had no desire to tell the truth, about what really fired her. That would leave her vulnerable and she had zero desire to be beholden to anyone that knew what made her tick. Even her master was unaware of Jantar’s drivers.

She was able to bluff effectively. She used truths but not whole-truths. She coveted power and control, that much was true. But deep down she wanted the one thing she suspected she could never know – her birth-right. And Jantar hated it when she wasn’t in control. Even when her temper got the better of her and expletives flowed, she was in an element of constraint.

But knowing if Jantar was even her real name? Knowing who she was, where she was born? Who her parents were? These things were unattainable as far as Jantar understood and she despised herself for two reasons. Firstly for her inability to find out and secondly for her failure to let it go.

She rubbed her tired eyes. Her belly was still pleasantly warm from the alcohol, but her thoughts were discordant. “I’m turning in,” she said and set off for her cabin. Since that first night, they’d not shared a bed.