Trial of the Flesh

[Lilla Syrin]

"A Consular is a specialized kind of Jedi. They focus more on cerebral Force skills. They're our healers, our researchers, our seers."
― Zayne Carrick

The Trial of the Flesh was the most trying test undertaken and more often than not, was not assigned in advance, but awarded upon reflection.

It involved the apprentice overcoming great physical pain, hardship, or loss. The test sometimes resulted in death or dismemberment – although technically these would count as a fail and not allow a Jedi to progress through to Knighthood.

Throughout history, the Trial was known to involve bloodshed of some form. At one time, the Order subjected its apprentices to burst of energy applied directly to the skin, known as the Burning. While this type of torture was abandoned eventually, battle scars were accepted as passage at various times of the Order’s existence.

So, when Lilla embarked upon what was later to be considered her Trial, she had no idea what was in store. But then, neither did her master, or any of the Jedi Council.

 

[Lilla Syrin]

“Welcome,” said the sultry, automated voice. “The time is 24:13 Central, and the temperature is currently 201 degrees Celsius. Tomorrow’s high temperature is expected to be 274, with light winds and dust. Please watch your step as you disembark, as gravity is thirty-eight percent standard. Have a pleasant stay.”

Yes, thought Lilla, her step did indeed feel springier as she negotiated the moving walkway. A shy, reserved person, Lilla did not usually have a bounce in her step, nor did she whistle while she worked. Her job as a temporary Jedi Consular for the Republic Remnant required a demeanour only slightly less serious than that of an undertaker.

The role of Jedi Consular was one of three distinct schools of thought which a member of the Jedi Order could decide to study under following their ascension to the rank of Jedi Knight, the other two being Jedi Guardian and Jedi Sentinel. The purpose of the role was to seek diplomatic measures in spreading peace and harmony across the small but expanding Republic. Refraining from drawing their lightsabers except as a measure of last resort, Consulars spent a great deal of time studying the mysteries of the Force.

Her master had insisted on the placement – just as he expected her to perform the duties of a Guardian and a Sentinel before he would consider her progression to become a Knight. His reasoning was simple. At that point she needed to choose a specialism and how could she decide if she didn’t know what each entailed?

 

[Lilla Syrin]

But Lilla couldn’t help feeling rather buoyant, as she was about to embark on a new assignment.

Lilla was distracted by some children bounding several strides ahead of their parents in the light gravity. She was glad that he didn’t have any of those to worry about, although, lately, she had been feeling unaccountably maternal towards the latest batch of Younglings.

Not that she considered being a mother for even a split second. She was a Jedi and of the old-school when it came to attachments. She’d heard too many stories of Jedi falling to the dark side or just falling, due to their feelings. Not for her. Lessons taught her to learn from the past and this was one aspect she was well and truly appraised of.

Lilla was brought back to the here and now by a conversation next to her. It reminded her of why she was here.

Anarchy.

There had been a revolt on this moon a few weeks earlier. The fighting was over, she reminded herself, and most of the real damage had occurred on another part of the moon, not this region. But rumblings continued, and so she was one of many Jedi and politicians dispatched to ensure they didn’t get any louder.

A moment later, she caught sight of the security guard at the end of the walkway, and Lilla stiffened. It would do no good to look as though she was here on holiday.

She produced her identicard a moment before the guard asked for it – she was a Jedi after all.

 

[Lilla Syrin]

“Have a pleasant stay Jedi Syrin.”

Non-Jedi were always unsure how to address her. She lost count of the number of times she was referred to as a Master. Some called her by her name – or more accurately her given name, she had no idea what her real name was. Others used the first part of her name, others the second and some added any manner of Jedi titles in front or behind.

Lilla responded to all variations with the same polite but genuine smile.

A man in a black uniform stepped out of the crowd and offered Lilla his hand. The Jedi graciously took it and then gave a small formal bow.

“So pleased to meet you,” said the officer.

Lilla blinked in amazement. She had not expected to be met at all, and certainly not by the local military. This was not Republic jurisdiction, and they were here at the bequest of the local government, but even so – this felt a slightly heavy-handed way of telling her she wasn’t needed. Or wanted.

 

[Lilla Syrin]

The officer was a slight man. In fact, without the cap he wore, perched on his head, he would have been even smaller.

“I wanted to pick you up myself,” said the officer, clearly hoping his presence was an intimidation. “To have some time to talk with you. You know, this assignment won’t last very long, just until we iron out the details.”

Lilla was caught off-guard by the officer’s words. She was not intimidated in the least. You don’t face down Sith Knights for breakfast and get daunted by a militia offer by lunchtime.

“Details?”

The officer shrugged and began walking through the spaceport complex. Lilla knew he’d done that to avoid answering her question immediately. It was a power-play, and a clumsy one at that.

The man in the black uniform swept down yet another corridor, and kept pace and her silence. To press him would give him the upper hand. Until she could trust his motives, she was going to keep her cards close to her chest.

Except for the ease of moving in the light gravity, there was no indication that they were on a barren moon. The docking area looked like any other space facility designed for oxygen-breathers; there were the usual crowded corridors, gift shops, florists, news-stands, restaurants, and credit machines. One had to go to an observatory dome to see anything of the red landscape.

 

[Lilla Syrin]

Finally the man broke the silence he had brokered. Lilla suppressed a smile.

“Since the assassination of the elected leader of the moon, many names have been put forward. The trouble is, they’re chosen because they are popular, not because they are fit for office. But the latest candidate, that looks as though he’ll get the backing of the Senate? At least he’s by the book.”

Lilla nodded in a non-committal way.

“An honest plodder. I’ll reserve judgment until I see how he handles the pressure.”

“You would rather have someone with a more military background running the moon?”

“No,” answered the officer. “We work better behind the scenes. But it would be nice to have a firm hand in that post.”

After negotiating another corner, the officer turned abruptly, stepped in front of Lilla, and looked her squarely in the eyes. “I’ve done a lot of research on you. I especially like the way you manage to come out on the winning side of every situation. That quality is very appealing to me.”

Lilla waited for some further revelation, but none came.

And Lilla couldn’t forget the fact that she had a job to do, and that was to ensure no new flaring of hostilities. No amount of smooth-talking from this man would sway her from her mission.

“The monorail is this way,” said the officer. “We have a private car to take us to the Redial Rise.”

“My luggage?” said the young Jedi.

The officer smiled. “It’s being delivered to your suite. I think you will find it quite accommodating.”

A suite in the fanciest hotel in this quadrant? At the expense of the local military? If Lilla wasn’t guarded before, she was now.

 

[Lilla Syrin]

Once inside the security of the sealed monorail car, Lilla finally relaxed and took in the sights, such as they were on a dark night. The angry red moon didn’t look so angry when it was crisscrossed with monorail tubes, prefabricated dwellings, and shielded domes. It looked like a giant gerbil habitat on a dusty parking lot.

A canyon yawned beneath the monorail tube, lit up by a science station perched on the rim. The canyon was, Lilla estimated, about six kilometres deep. The canyon faded into the distance before Lilla could get a very good look. With a minimum of gravity and friction, the monorail was breezing above the surface at a speed of four hundred kilometres per hour.

Lilla shifted his gaze toward the distance and their destination, the famed Redial Rise - a jutting plateau of volcanic ridges that was five kilometres high. It was lit up, but the lights failed to convey even one-tenth of its size. By daylight, it was a monstrous thing that seemed to go on forever, but Lilla knew it was only about three thousand kilometres across.

Redial Rise was a bona fide tourist attraction, no one could deny that. And the Royal Redial was a posh resort.

The officer was quiet and thoughtful as he gazed out the convex window. “You don’t see anything of interest out there, do you,” he remarked.

“I’m afraid I don’t,” answered Lilla. “I’ve always found the mystique of most places like this to be sadly lacking. Behind all these sleek tubes, there’s a lot of poverty. People came here looking for something, and only a few found anything of value.”

“The hotel has all the facilities you’ll need. And it’s secure, too,” said the man in the black uniform. “The monorail is the only way in or out. Except for overland, which would be insane.”

Lilla shook her head, feigning an apologetic response. “I’ve been travelling around so much, I haven’t kept up. Are we still worried about the separatists?”

“Idiots,” muttered the officer. “They haven’t got a chance. We’re not going to give up the moon to a bunch of illiterate miners, I can tell you that.”

 

[Lilla Syrin]

Lilla could see the hotel very clearly now, a modern art monstrosity.

An explosion suddenly lit up the jagged rock face, and a flaming section of the hotel spewed outward, along with tables, chairs, and other objects that were sucked into the thin atmosphere.

The flames went out immediately, but debris continued to fly out. The shock wave jarred the monorail and would have knocked them out of their seats, if not for their restraints. Lights flickered in the car, and the monorail screeched to a bumpy halt.

The oxygen wasn’t gone yet, but Lilla was aware the unit was sealed and relied on power to replenish their air.

“Stay calm,” ordered the oifficer, clearly forgetting who he was speaking to. “Whatever you do, don’t take your restraints off. What’s the matter with this thing?”

He pounded on the panel over his head, and a dozen oxygen masks fell out, hanging from the ceiling like the tentacles of some bloated jellyfish. Swift changes in air pressure made papers and cups fly around the room.

“Put a mask on,” ordered the officer.

They secured their oxygen masks and waited in the flickering lights. Lilla felt a tug at her clothing, and the hair on her arms and neck seemed to rise with the drying of the air.

They were going to be in oxygenless, 200-degree heat in a few minutes. She glanced at the gaping hole in the hotel, and he saw things still flying out of it. Bodies.

Lilla closed her eyes and concentrated.

The officer ripped his mask off and sniffed the air. “Stay in your seat,” he barked. “That is an order. I am going to loosen my restraints and try to get this thing into reverse.”

Lilla lifted the lip of her mask. “No, we need to find the manual override and head towards the explosion.”

 

[Lilla Syrin]

Lilla had to occasionally grab a mask for a hit of oxygen, but she never faltered from her task. Finally, in the panel above the water dispenser, she found what looked like a pair of old-fashioned levers.

She took one more breath of oxygen from a nearby mask and reached over the water cooler to grab the levers. Her hair was plastered across her forehead in dripping ringlets, and the sweat ran off her chin.

The levers moved easily in her grasp. There was a comforting clunk, and the car shuddered on its overhead track. One second later, the car flew forward so quickly that the officer was dumped on his backside.

Once she was convinced they were moving at a sensible pace, Lilla reached for a gas mask, and gratefully sucked oxygen.

“I wonder how many people died in that explosion?” the officer mused.

Lilla closed her eyes. “I counted twenty-six.”

 

[Lilla Syrin]

27 perish in hotel bombing!

The headline was accurate, if salacious. One person who suffered significant injuries died overnight.

The report continued:

The Redial Rise was the target of a terrorist bombing, in which 27 people, mostly hotel employees, died. Authorities have yet to make an arrest, but a previously unknown terrorist organization has claimed responsibility.

Lilla sat in the room of the hotel that the Republic Remnant had originally booked for her, checking out all of the news reports for any information she might have missed at the scene.

Sure she had all of the facts, she left the hotel and headed to the government building a short journey from her current location. It was a section of the moon under a dome and with regulated temperature, the short walk would be quite pleasant, except she wasn’t feeling 100 per cent. Maybe it was the effects of yesterday? Either way, she was fit enough to talk, and that’s all she was being asked to do.

A few minutes later, Lilla had been checked into the building – security was especially tight right now, and entered the lift to her chosen floor.

As she exited the elevator, she checked both ways, to see which direction the room she had been asked to meet in was. She saw it at the end of the corridor on her right – room 21-6.

Just then, a monstrous explosion ripped through the doorway of room 21-6, and the concussion hurled her off her feet! The corridor filled with acrid smoke, and alarms and people started shrieking at the same time. It was bedlam in the corridor, and she was nearly trampled by people rushing to see what had happened.

Before Lilla could regain her feet, a security officer was beside her. “Medical emergency!” he shouted into his link. “Explosion on Green-21, conference room 6! Injuries and possible dead! We need medteams! Bomb squad!”

People ran through the corridor with fire extinguishers, and they shot streams of foam into the smouldering remains of the conference room. Lilla looked down at her sleeve and could see drops of blood.

Her blood.

 

[Lilla Syrin]

Lilla awoke in a hospital bed. Her head hurt and she attempted to lift a hand to find out what the damage was, when she realised she was restrained.

Then something caught her eye. Standing perfectly still by the door was the officer.

“I can’t believe it.”

Lilla tried to sit up but both her hands and feet were secured to the bed. “What’s happening? Why am I like this?”

The man in the black uniform took several strides across the small room and sat on the bed beside her. “Before you have any funny ideas, I have four men stationed outside to make sure you don’t go anywhere.”

“What?”

“I volunteered to watch you. I had to see the woman who killed the Leader-elect. I had to see with my own eyes if it was you.”

The officer activated a link. “The Jedi is awake now.”

“I didn’t kill anyone!” insisted Lilla.

“How can you say that with all of the evidence pointing to you.”

“But I didn’t kill anyone!”.

There was immediate pounding on the door, followed by a booming voice, demanding, “We want to see the prisoner!”

The officer shook his head glumly. “You’re in a load of trouble, Jedi.”

“I didn’t kill anyone, I didn’t.”

Three officers entered the room, followed by a civilian. The latter appeared to be in charge.

“I didn’t do it,” Lilla explained.

 

[Lilla Syrin]

The civilian spoke. “My forensic people can link traces of the bomb to materials in your hotel room. And you set up the meeting to make sure your target would be there. You arrived in time to check they were present and set off the bomb. We have all the evidence we need.”

Lilla’s head was swimming. She’d obviously been sedated and it was messing with her mind.

“I was as surprised as anyone when that bomb went off!”

The civilian’s face told her he did not believe her. And why would he, with a ton of evidence to the contrary.

“But what about the first bomb? Surely you know I didn’t set that one off, and what motive would I have?”

“Your motive was clear. To raise the level of emergency to a point where you could gain an audience with the Leaser-elect.”

“But I’d only just landed on the moon. How could I have planted that bomb when I hadn’t even set foot in the hotel.”

The civilian frowned. “We are not that foolish. You can lie all you like, we have evidence you were at the hotel before the bomb was detonated.”

“How? There can be no footage of me there, because I never reached it until after the explosion.”

“There is no recording, your bomb cleverly destroyed it. But eye witnesses place you there. Reliable eye witnesses.”

The officer looked at his feet and then shuffled uncomfortably. Lilla’s eyes narrowed. Her mind might be foggy, but it was beginning to make sense – and whoever was setting her up had made their first mistake. She had a lead and once she was out of these constraints, she could find out the truth.

“Are you going to arrest me?”

“You’re already arrested. As a visitor on this moon, you have no diplomatic immunity and no special status because of your Jedi mumbo-jumbo. Both the Republic Remnant and the Jedi Order have tried to claim jurisdiction of this case. But our response has been a polite and forthright refusal.”

“You are a terrorist and as soon as we can get you into a courtroom, we will prove it and make an example of scum like you.”

He turned to one of the soldiers with him. “Get her discharged immediately and into a courtroom by the morning. I want her convicted in time for my evening meal.”

“Yes sir, Mr. Leader-elect.”

 

[Lilla Syrin]

Lilla felt weak in the knees. More than anything, she just wanted to crawl under her bedcovers and go back to sleep. There had to be some way to exit from this nightmare, if only she could think about it. If only she could remember everything. But it was all such a haze. She hadn’t felt right the entire morning.

With the Republic and Jedi hands tied, there was only one thing for it. She had to flee and prove who really did this.

No sooner had the men left, than a doctor entered. He administered something via a hypothermic and then checked her over.

“What was that?”

“It suppresses your ability to draw on the Force. It’s synthesised from some lizard apparently.”

Lilla knew of the creatures.

“OK, you’re fit enough to leave.”

“Then get out of here and let me find my clothes.” The young Jedi stood up and started to take off her robe, and the doctor hurried out.

 

[Lilla Syrin]

Lilla told herself that she was already considered a terrorist, a murderer, and potentially a traitor. And she was about to add fugitive to the list. And rogue Jedi. Of all the terrible labels, that one frightened her the most.

She was in small cell and under constant watch. There were four cameras in her box of a room alone, let alone three guards visible through the small window in the door.

Lilla sat and contemplated her situation. If she remained in the cell, she would be found guilty by the very people she had to prove were the miscreants. And if she ran? She’d equally suggest her guilt – and unless she could find clear evidence she was set up, she would remain a fugitive for the rest of her life.

Lilla wondered how long the effects of the drug would last, and how effective the security was here. She suspected they didn’t have many Jedi prisoners – but equally, they would be taking no chances.

She sat, cross-legged on the floor and attempted to connect with the Force. Nothing. Not even a flicker. For someone that became aware of her abilities relatively late in her youth, she missed what she’d spent most of her life being blissfully unaware of.

She stood and shook the tiredness out of her limbs. Then she looked through the small window in the door again.

 

[Lilla Syrin]

One of the guards stood up and looked towards her in amazement. She didn’t hide from his gaze. What was the point?

Then he walked to his desk and picked up his cardkey.

Lilla pressed her face against the small window and could see the other two guards lying unconscious on floor. She looked instinctively at the air vents - if there was a gas, it was invisible. But that didn’t explain why one of them was still conscious.

The Force!

The seconds seemed to drag on, and there was nothing to do but stand there and wait for the act of surreal drama. In a few moments, the door to her cell was opened. Lilla took the keycard from the guard, who stood there impassively and walked to the next door – the one to freedom.

She opened it and slipped away.

 

[Lilla Syrin]

The Leader-elect was sitting at his desk, in a corner office that had glass on two sides – from floor to ceiling. He looked up in annoyance as there came a knock on the door and his secretary ushered two militia officers in.

“Mr. Leader-elect,” said the more senior of the two, “We have a major breach in security.”

“What’s happened?” asked the Leader-elect.

“Tell Mr. Leader-elect what happened, Callhis.”

The guard shook his head, as if he still wasn’t sure. “It was peaceful in the brig, nothing was going on. And I looked up and saw the Jedi looking at me through the glass in the cell door.”

“And?”

“That’s all I remember. The next thing I know, I wake up on the floor, and the other two guards are out cold, too. She got clean away.”

The officers expected the Leader-elect to be furious but he was unaccountably smiling. In fact, he looked pleased with the shocked expressions.

“Thank you so much,” he said. “Her decision to flee merely proves her guilt. And fleeing prosecution is automatically a felony. Shoot to kill. She’s too dangerous to try to bring in alive. There’s no telling how long the Force suppressant will last.”

 

[Lilla Syrin]

Lilla sat in total darkness, wondering if she was going to her death, to her freedom, or just going mad.

As she exited the brig, a series of doors opened ahead of her, as if she was being guided to an escape route. Given she was weapon-less and not able to connect with the Force, she decided to follow her mysterious benefactor’s breadcrumb trail.

It could be a trap, but if someone wanted her dead, they could have pulled a trigger from the moment she broke out of her cell door.

Finally she reached a small loading area – which was empty. She was unsure where to go next, when she noticed the box. Externally it was nondescript, but the lid was open and the markings inside were Jedi script. Ancient Jedi scipt, but she had been studying many languages at the Academy.

She read the wording and followed the instructions.

And that’s where she had remained for the better part of an hour now. She knew how the pins could be removed from the inside of the box to let the straps that held her – and the lid – in place work themselves free.

She presumed she was on a vessel and that her rescuer may have taken her off-planet, because she had been knocked around. Or maybe somebody had simply tossed the crate down a stairwell – it was impossible to tell!

In the absence of instructions or guidance, what was she supposed to do, stay in the box forever? Someone had helped her escape the cell, but she surmised there was a limit as to what she could do beyond that. Any public support would look bad for the Republic and the Jedi Order. Unless – until – she should prove her innocence, she suspected she would be on her own.

Worse yet, she had started to hear scuffling sounds outside in the – wherever she was. The sound was too heavy and massive to be rats but that didn’t explain what it was. Could it be somebody moving the crates around? Or a heavy person just passing through? She had heard no voices.

 

[Lilla Syrin]

She had reached her level of endurance for breathing foul air and listening to strange noises in the darkness, while hunched in a terrible position. She had to find out where she was, or go crazy.

So Lilla reached for the pins that held the straps closed from inside. She already knew they would slide out easily, because she had been toying with them in the dark for the better part of an hour.

She felt the smooth sticks come out in her hands, and she knew the straps were now just lying across the top of the crate. All she would need was a swift push to be out of that stifling darkness. But once out, the secret of the box would be revealed.

As with many boxes, there would be no putting back the surprise after it popped out. Whoever was shuffling around out there might view her as a smuggler and kill her. Or they might know about her fugitive status, as they had to be looking for her by now.

It was the unknown either way, decided Lilla, and she would rather die with light in her eyes, fresh air in her lungs, and her back straight. She pushed open the top and stretched.

 

[Lilla Syrin]

A creature in rags gasped with fright and fell over a similar crate. Lilla jumped out of her own crate and scrambled behind it. They peered at each other with curiosity.

He had long, scraggly hair and a grubby beard, and appeared human. She was about to welcome him with a big smile, when she saw his hand ease out from behind the box, and it was holding a blaster.

“Suppose you just put your hands up,” he said in an accent that placed him from Coruscant. “I didn’t know I had company.”

“Me neither,” said Lilla, raising her hands.

She wanted to get a good look at the place where she might die, so she glanced around. To her surprise, she was in another, much larger cargo crate with alien lettering running all around the top. There was a naked lightbulb and some sort of ventilation system supplying them oxygen.

“I’ve seen you somewhere,” said the man suspiciously.

She tried to smile. “Well, it’s obvious we frequent the same places.”

“Keep your hands up,” he snarled. He didn’t wave the weapon around like a maniac. In fact, he held it very steadily, as if it were an extension of his arm.

Lilla looked around again, trying to see if there was any obvious way out. There seemed to be a lid to the thing, and she could see what looked like a switch box amidst the alien lettering. But it didn’t look promising.

Conversationally, she remarked, “I think we have more in common than a lot of people who have just met.”

The man gave her a lopsided grin. “Well, maybe we do have some mutual friends. The question is – are you a plant put here to get me, or am I a plant put here to get you?”

He scratched his stubbly chin. “Since I know I’m up to no good, you must be a plant.” He lifted the weapon and aimed it at her breastbone.

 

[Lilla Syrin]

“I’m a fugitive!” She put her hands up even higher.

But instead of shooting, he lowered the weapon and smiled. “Yeah, now I remember - you’re that Jedi. They got you for the bombing!”

He howled with laughter.

He laughed so hard that he had to dab his eyes with his dirty sleeve. “I guess you’re in too much trouble to turn anybody in. My name is Reklama.”

“Reklama,” she breathed. The name meant nothing to her, but from the tone of his voice, she was sure she was supposed to. More importantly, Reklama was expecting her to know.

He bowed mockingly. “And I have the pleasure of making the acquaintance of my first Jedi.”

“I didn’t do that bombing,” she said, as if that made any difference to a man like him.

“I know,” he said, dabbing his eyes. “You were in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“You know who did it?” she asked.

Reklama leveled the weapon at her again. “Lady, you were in the wrong place yesterday, and you’re still in the wrong place. Ask me no questions, and I’ll tell you no lies.”

Lilla was fairly certain that Reklama was going to kill her, just as soon as she stopped being amusing. But they weren’t alone – wherever they were. Somebody was piloting this ship, and somebody had made a deal to take her and deliver her somewhere. She and Reklama were not in a vacuum.