reborn § cal kestis

9

  As soon as he saw them, the Imroosian man switched on his weapon in defence. The emerald blade illuminated his chalky white, cracked skin. "Who are you? How did you get in here?"

"We're with the rebels," Cal answered, holding his hand out to calm the man. "We've come for the Jedi texts."

"And why should I give them to you?"

"Because I'm a Jedi." As he handed the man his lightsaber, the man turned his own off. He span it around in his hands, examining it.

"You shouldn't be here," the man scolded as he threw Cal's lightsaber back at him. "If the Empire find you, you'll be dead."

Cal locked eyes with Sadira, then looked back to the man. "We know of the risks. They're already on our tail."

"The Empire? They're here?"

"Soon," Sadira said. "But we're ready to fight them. We need the texts to help us."

The man stepped forward from his podium. "You're a Jedi too?"

Sadira froze, then shook her head. "No, not at all. Cal needs the texts; I'm here because..." She hesitated. "I don't really have any other choice."

"We'd really appreciate it if you could help us," Cal begged the man.

He waited for a moment, then stepped out from behind the podium. "My name is D'ri Nekor." Cal recognised that the man was wearing Jedi robes.

  "I'm Cal Kestis." Cal gestured to Sadira, then his droid. "This is Sadira, and BD-1."

  D'ri nodded. He seemed to contemplate the situation, before he moved towards the door. "Follow me."

  They walked with D'ri to the big, open area of the temple. He approached one of the walls, then rested his hand against it just as Cal had done earlier. Part of the wall shifted backwards, and D'ri ushered them in. It was another small room, this time lit up by flickering torches. Shelves lined the walls, with wooden boxes balanced atop them.

  D'ri stroked the boxes as he passed them, then stopped. He lay his hand flat, with his palm facing upwards, and then raised his hand. As he did this, a box rose from the shelf and floated to the ground. "These texts have been here for centuries, collecting information about the Jedi order." He turned to Cal. "As long as there is still a spark of light in the galaxy, these books will stay alive."

  Cal thought back to the burned texts, but pushed the thought down. "How did you escape?"

  "I was a Jedi master. Like so many of us, I tried to fight until the end, but decided that hiding and increasing my power would be the best option. And you?"

   "Padawan," Cal said. Memories of Jaro Tapal filled his mind. "My master died saving my life."

  "Your master would be proud that you have survived this long." D'ri smiled as he unlocked the box and pulled out a large book. It's cover shone in the dim light, and, for Cal, a purple energy surrounded it. "I, however, did not have that luxury."

  Nearby, Sadira was admiring the room as she listened to their conversation. She stopped as D'ri finished his sentence, grabbing for her necklace. An image surfaced in her mind: a man, with pale skin, standing at her door. He speaks in a hushed tone, but she can tell what he's saying from the look on her father's face. The man touches her father's shoulder briefly, then looks to her apologetically. But to her, it isn't enough. It will never bring her sister back.

  "Who was your padawan?" Sadira interrupted the Jedi's conversation. She didn't hear the last part of it, but she didn't need to. The men turned to her, shocked by her sudden intrusion.