Saga Severing the Past (PG, RotS and Inter) - OCs - Jedi Temple escape - Updated 1/13/08

Title: Severing the Past
Author: Wendynat
Timeframe: RotS and Intertrilogy
Genre: Gen, Drama, Action
Summary: Two padawans escape the attack on the Jedi Temple and set out on a self-appointed mission to seek out other Jedi.
Rating: PG
Notes: OC-centric, though there will be minor appearances by some canon characters.

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Prologue
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A fire crackled in the quiet room. Glows of orange and red lit the rich wood floor, shone in the eyes of the two children sitting before him. But he saw none of it, lost in his story even as the children were.

"She knew something was happening ? she paused, looked around, but didn't see behind her. Didn't see her own army attack. They said the Jedi should have sensed it, sensed the betrayal, but maybe those clones didn't think of it as a betrayal. I don't think we'll ever know, not really."

"But, Uncle, how-"

"No more questions." Blinking rapidly, he stood. His friend wouldn't forgive him if he frightened her children. "Off to bed with you now." The children scampered off and he smiled wryly. Brienna was annoyed that they listened to him so readily; had it been she who ordered them to their rooms, a hundred excuses and reasons to stall the inevitable would be spilling from their lips. But when he said bed, they jumped. It was his privilege, he supposed. He had no family of his own, even the title by which the children called him was honorary. He was not their blood uncle, just a close friend of their mother. Very close.

He shivered.

The room felt colder without them there. Brienna wouldn't be back for hours yet, business was doing well and she had to get the shop in order for the week ahead. Left to his own thoughts, he sat for long minutes and stared into the fire. Then he stood, limbs creaking, and listened. The children were asleep.

[i]No more questions.[/i]

Walking quietly to his own room, he shut the door and tried to push the memories back, tried to stop his feet from taking him to where his subconscious commanded. He couldn't. He moved to his bed but didn't pull back the covers as was his normal routine. Instead he sank to the floor, knees protesting, and quietly pulled up a floorboard just underneath the edge. His hands shaking, he lifted the small box. Opened it.

A single lightsaber lay within, its hilt scratched from far too frequent use, the durasteel smudged from the sweat of a young man as he watched his comrades fall. Too many. Too many.

[i]No more questions.[/i]

A tear fell.

 

Chapter One
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"No more questions." The Jedi Master pushed him forward, though he tried to struggle back to where the fighting was. Ayliana was already gone, obeying the orders without protest. "Go, here, through the chute. Follow Ayliana. Hide there, wait-"

"A Jedi doesn't hide!" As Padawan to a Master Historian, he hadn't yet been out on an official assignment with his Master, but he had learned enough to know that was the case. A Jedi did not hide from danger. Research in the archives, stolen looks at the forbidden texts that his Master was cataloguing, had taught him that.

The Master's lightsaber glowed and he watched his braid ? his coveted braid ? fall to the floor. Bending down he picked it up, then held it numbly in his hand, staring at the charred end. The Master's voice was harsh and urgent. "You're not a Jedi! Remember that, you're not a Jedi. Hide in the city. Do not reveal yourselves. Now go!"

Still he hesitated. The sounds of fighting were coming near again. The Master looked behind and then shoved him unceremoniously to the entrance of the chute. "You're a Padawan, and a Padawan does as he's told!" Unable to think of an argument, he reluctantly climbed in. "My last orders for you, Padawan: Hide. Live." Then the door slid shut and he slid down, landing hard at the bottom of the trash chute.

***

"What are we going to do?" he asked, looking at Ayliana in the dim light. They had made their way slowly through the catacombs of trash chutes, and were finally near the bottom of the temple. Or so he assumed. In one hand he still clutched his severed braid.

He hoped Ayliana didn?t notice.

She frowned, moving around the small receptacle and studying the walls. He waited patiently, his heart no longer pounding as she made her inspection. How many was it, now? Ten? Twenty? They had been high in the temple when the attack came. Very high? near the council chamber?

He wrenched his mind from that thought and forced himself to concentrate on the present.

She had done this at each stop, sensing which section of wall was next to a neighboring chute. They were fortunate, she had told him, that the waste system was contained to just one part of the building's structure. He supposed she was right, though he could remember how irritating it was when he was on the other side of the library and had to make his way to the opposite wall just to toss out something. Scratching his chin absently, he wondered how many of the old texts had survived, and whether the archives? no.

The present. Think of the present. Even his own Master had preached that to him, though the older man had rarely followed those orders himself. A side effect, perhaps, of being a Master Historian rather than a Knight. He supposed he?d never find out, now. His Master had been one of the first to fall.

Forcing his mind to the present once again, he trained his eyes on Ayliana. The present. At first, watching her work had been distraction enough from his thoughts but now, after dozens of such occasions, the novelty had worn off. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply as he reached for the meditative state his Master had been working with him on. He could feel her moving around the room still, could hear the disgusted noise she made as she saw ? and stepped in, to judge by the sound ? something repulsive. From within his meditative state, he felt a faint amusement. Very faint.

His mind floated, suspended, for an undetermined amount of time before he was brought out of it by the sudden hum of a lightsaber. She had found it. Immediately he stood and moved to her side, ignoring the unpleasant squelch as he stepped in something best left to the imagination.

"It?s not a trash chute, but it?s even better," she muttered, her hands shaking as she directed her saber to cut through the wall. She moved slowly, to minimize the noise, but they both held their breath while she worked, hoping that the sound would be unnoticed by any clone troopers ? or worse ? that might still

 

This is excellent. Looking forward to more of this story.

 

Yes, this is good! Let me know when you update.

 

Thanks for the feedback - I'm glad some people are enjoying it! I expect to update weekly at the least, more often if possible (depending on RL), and I'll email those who request it when a new chapter has been posted.

Any and all feedback is appreciated, concrit, positive, negative - I'm thick-skinned .

 

Author's Note: I plan to update weekly on Tuesday nights. This chapter is a couple of days early, I hope you enjoy it! Leave me a note, either way - I love feedback and am quite thick-skinned .

Chapter Two
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By the time either of them spoke again, they were far from the alleyway that would stay forever in N'oenar's memory. He had blanked his mind carefully, not wishing to think any more. It was an odd sensation, to stay in a semi-trance while running and hiding in the shadows, but he quickly became accustomed to it.

"We've got to find somewhere to stop. I can't? we won't get out of the undercity before daylight. Well, not this part of it, at any rate."

N'oenar looked at her in confusion, the peaceful trance slipping from him at the sound of her voice. "Not before daylight? But I thought-"

"We need to stop, or find other clothes. If we keep moving we'll likely just run into another one of those?"

N'oenar nodded in agreement. "I don't want to run into anyone else. Not looking like this."

"We look too wealthy-"

"Wealthy murderers," he said dryly, pointing at her red-spattered tunic. The stains were light, but evident. Reaching over, he pulled her cloak around to hide the tell-tale signs, ignoring her cool glare. "Look, let's find something else to wear."

She raised an eyebrow and leaned against the wall, first checking to make sure it was at least passably clean. "Oh? And how exactly should we do that? Know many merchants open this time of night?"

"I don't know any merchants, Ayliana. I've never been? here." This wasn't the part of town his Master had frequented, that was certain. He sighed and slumped against the wall, making a face. Of all the people in the Jedi Temple to be in this situation, he was likely the worst. A Master Historian's Padawan. The only ones more ill-equipped to handle the city were probably the Younglings.

He swallowed hard.

"I've never been anywhere, really. Master Dannew is a Historian, not a Knight. Not anymore. He used to be, but-" He stopped abruptly. The present. Clearing his throat, he continued, "If you want to know the political situation on Gabris Prime, I'm your man. History of slave traders in Outer Rim? Your man. Jedi and Sith philosophy spanning a thousand years ago to today? That's me. Merchants in Coruscant that sell clothing in the middle of the night? Can't help you."

Ayliana watched him tiredly. He didn?t even want to know what she was thinking. She opened her mouth once and closed it, then shook her head and sighed. "Let's just rest, then."

N'oenar muttered an agreement and glanced around. The alleyway was empty, and he didn?t sense anyone else about. Ayliana mustn't have, either, and her senses were more attuned than his were. It was as good a spot as any, he supposed, though he couldn't help but think of his comfortable bed back in the Jedi-

The present.

Ayliana sunk to the ground and sighed. He cleared his throat. "Go ahead and sleep first. I'll keep watch-"

"No, you should go firs-"

"Ayliana, you need to rest. You've been working a lot harder than I have, sensing our way." He saw her open her mouth to protest again and he sighed. Sometimes her altruism was more than he could stand. He'd forgotten that about her. "I'm too wound up to rest right now. Go on. Please."

Thankfully she didn't argue. Huddling into her cloak, she was soon asleep, her breathing deep and even.

He envied her.

Alone with his thoughts, he slid down the wall and sat on the cool pavement of the alleyway. He watched Ayliana for a few moments and then sighed, shifting his gaze to his hands. Wealthy murderers. Just murderers, really. He didn't know how many credits Ayliana was carrying, but he only had a few. As a general rule, Padawans only carried what they may need in an emergency. And since he rarely left the Jedi Temple, he didn't carry many.

He didn't even have any idea how much new clothes would cost them.

It crashed in on him, then, just how useless he was in this situation. Ayliana knew her w

 

Wonderfully written so far. I can't believe how engaged I am, considering I tend not to have interest in stories featuring OCs (or characters I don't know, not being a big EU follower). I'm really liking N'oenar and Ayliana, find them to be very realistically written. And, simply put, I can't wait to see what happens next.

 

This has nice dialogue and good character development. Thank you for letting me know when you update!

 

Wow, great story so far! I love how real the underworld feels, how flashing a bag signals money. Can't wait for more.

 

The next update will be in a few days - I promised weekly updates so the third chapter should be up by Sunday night, Monday at the latest (depending on work, it may go quicker than that ). If anyone would like a PM when I update, please let me know.

This is just a short set of thanks to the commenters so far - I really do appreciate the time taken to leave feedback, it lets me know people are reading and hopefully enjoying it!

Gina: Thank you, I really appreciate the kind comments . I hope you continue to enjoy it!

TrinityDay: Thanks so much for your feedback! I'm doubly flattered since you said you weren't normally into OC fics. I'm also not an EU follower; I'm afraid I don't have a lot of knowledge of the EU other than the basic outlines of some things. I hope I don't step on it/trip over it much in this story!

Master Sarebabe: Thank you so much for the continued feedback! This is my first fic that relies heavily on OCs, so I was glad to see your comment about the dialogue and characterization - thanks!

JadeSolo: Thank you! I'm glad you like the way the undercity is playing out .

 

I can't tell you how much I am enjoying this story! You've given these OCs such life and depth. Love how you bring the scene to life and give the story such a sense of urgency through your descriptions. Am curious if the woman who saved N'oenar will show up again.

 

Wonderful, wonderful OCs! I'm not all caught up yet, but what I've read is amazing!

 

This is wonderful, Wendy! I'll echo everyone else in saying that your OCs have an amazing depth and life of their own.

This part got me:

He stared at his lightsaber, frozen as reality smashed into him. He had used it. Truly used it. Years of practice, hundreds of drills against the other Younglings, and until now his blade had never met flesh.

A hot knife through butter.

[...]

Except for the scream.

Butter didn?t scream.

Maybe it wasn?t like a knife through butter, after all.


I can imagine that that is exactly how a padawan would feel after a first kill following a life of being cloistered in the Temple. Excellent imagery and characterization!

I'm looking forward to more.

 

I haven't had a chance to read every post, Wendy, but I love what I've read do far. Wonderful OC's and the imagery is superb!

 

I really enjoyed your story "Their Only Chance" at the TF.N archive, so when I spotted your name here I just had to read your story. I'm so glad I did. I love your Jedi characters, and I look forward to following them through their adventures.

You're a terrific writer!

 

I wanted to say, before I post Chapter 3, that I really do appreciate everyone taking the time to leave feedback - it REALLY helps inspire me to put aside the other 1,792 things that steal my attention and get back to writing this story .

Gina - I'm so glad you're enjoying the story! And thank you for the compliments on the OCs, I'm doing my best to bring them to life so I'm very flattered to hear you say that .

VaderLVR64 - Thanks! I'm glad you're enjoying it, I hope you liked the rest of what you've read .

Jedi Trace - *bows before my great Master* I'm very glad you're enjoying it, and I thought the first kill for a cloistered Padawan would be a fairly momentous occasion - I'm very happy that you thought I pulled it off well! Thanks

Rhonderoo - Thanks!! I'm very glad you're enjoying it!

Geo3 - Thank you very much for the compliments on this story and "Their Only Chance" - and double thanks for leaving feedback here.

 

Author's note: Again, the next update will be no later than Tuesday evening... possibly earlier. PMs sent on request for updates. Thanks for any and all feedback!!!

Chapter 3
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N'oenar gazed into the mirror, turning his cheek to the light and frowning. He'd likely have a light scar, despite the work the bacta had done in repairing his skin. A reminder to be more cautious. Taking a deep breath, his gaze dropped down to his neck, where vivid finger-shaped bruises had formed. They would disappear, but he'd feel the pressure in his mind for as long as it took to remind his of his near failure. He knew just how lucky he'd been that the woman had appeared? the Force had been with him, that night.

Ayliana was still down in the common room, listening to rumors and hoping to hear some whisper of other surviving Jedi in the undercity. He had the sinking feeling that they were the only ones still lingering on Coruscant, but she wouldn't listen to his protests. Or Lysira's advice. Determined, she just shook her head and repeated her current mantra: We have to try. He'd kept trying, until finally Lysira took him aside. The memory of their conversation came without bidding, his perfect recall once again seeming a burden rather than a gift.

The windowed door that led to the kitchens swung shut lightly, obscuring them from the common room while still allowing them to see out. It was some trick of the glass; he'd seen it before. But at that moment, he had no desire to look out, his frustration over Ayliana's stubbornness still strong.

"She'll decide on her own, and not before."

He shook his head irritably. "Any Jedi with a mind will have left by now-"

"She has to save people. She wants to save them all." Lysira's voice was distant, her eyes on where Ayliana sat. He followed her gaze and watched as his fellow Padawan blinked rapidly, twisting a napkin in one tight fist.

And he felt shame.

That same feeling of shame overcame him again as he sat in his room hours later, remembering. She has to save people. He should have the same need. Why didn't he? What was wrong with him? He wanted to, but at the same time?

You're not a Jedi.

Hide. Live.

Rubbing his face, he leaned on the small dressing table and regarded the silvery handle of his lightsaber. He'd always admired the sleek shine of metal ? so much so that he'd fashioned his saber with more durasteel on the surface than gripping material. Metal that he would now have to cover, at least while on Coruscant.

With a sigh, he picked up the discarded dark tunic and began to tear it into strips, using his saber to cut when the fabric protested. The methodical movements were hypnotic and his mind relaxed as he worked, tearing the tunic fingerswidth by fingerswidth into strips of cloth. It was almost? therapeutic.

Until he tore through the pocket and an object fell out. He bent slowly to pick it up, knowing immediately what it was.

He sat long into the night, head bowed, holding his Padawan braid in his hand.

---

Finally, sleep came to him. But not rest. Vivid dreams wracked his mind, vivid memory interlaced with fantasy wrought from his mind's imagination.

Or so he assumed.

He walked the corridors of the Jedi Temple, his Padawan braid tickling his neck. The corridors were empty but, as was the way of dreams, he didn't find this odd.

Suddenly he found himself in a room, watching his Master pore over one of the ancient texts. They were odd pieces, words painted on fabric ? sometimes faded in places but surprisingly well-preserved, considering the age. Quite different from the modern datapads and computer archives.

Master Dannew looked up and beckoned him closer. "Ice gives way to flame? look, N'oenar. And remember."

"I don't understand? of course ice gives way to flame-" He bent down, staring at the text, but he couldn't make out the words.

"Emotion. Passion. It is what must be." Master Dannew bowed his head, and N'oenar felt a wave of fear. "The great darkness approa

 

Another terrific entry! You have such nice, juicy, long entries.

I am really curious what the old woman means...I have an idea, but I am probably wrong. I guess I shall have to wait and see!

 

I, too, am very curious about the old woman and her ramblings. Also, I liked the way N'oenar kept blushing and was so unsure of himself when he was talking to Kerenne. It was a nice bit of lightheartedness amidst the tension.

 

Wonderful chapter!

"Emotion. Passion. It is what must be." Master Dannew bowed his head, and N'oenar felt a wave of fear. "The great darkness approaches. The edge of the cloud is over you now, but it will become darker. The lights will show brightly within, my Padawan. Very brightly. This is both evil and good. You must find a way to dim the light, to fulfill your destiny."

[...]

"Ice gives way before flame. Do you what must."

"Master Dannew-"

"Hide. Live."

That part had me a little misty-eyed. The repetition of "Hide. Live." is particularly powerful...like it's become his mantra.


"Ice will give way to flame ? to smolder is the key; to blaze is the sin."

Beautiful phrasing!

 

MasterSareBabe - I won't give spoilers in responses, but I'm glad she has you wondering . Thanks for commenting!!

Gina - Concerning the old woman, see above . Also, I'm glad you enjoyed the touch of lightheartedness in this chapter - thanks so much for commenting!!

Jedi Trace - Thank you!! It's interesting that you mention it seems like his mantra . I appreciate the comments (am blushing a little bit even). I should have a new chapter up Monday evening at the latest.

 

I really liked the conversation between N'oenar and Kerenne (especially the contemplation of flirtation--easily embarrassed boys can be endearing in that respect) but can't help but think he should be a little more cautious in giving out the location of the place he's staying at. I guess he's a Jedi, but still...

 

Author's Notes: As always, please comment if you have time! If you'd like to be PM'ed when I update, just leave me a note or PM me and I'll add you to the list .

Chapter 4
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N'oenar stared at Ayliana in shock, unable to speak as he ran her words through his mind over and over again.

She shone like a beacon, N'oenar. Just an instant, but? she was using the Force, whether she knew it or not.

"Why didn't I see it?"

She shook her head, staring at the doorway. She was more tense than he had ever seen her, aside from during the temple attack. "You weren't looking at her then, were you? It's not steady. I've? I've heard other beings talking about her, but I've never spoken to her. No one has."

"I didn't speak to her, she grabbed me and started going on-"

"N'oenar, I asked Lysira about her when I first started working the undercity. According to her, the old woman hasn't spoken in years. Some of the merchants give her food and water, a bit of charity, and she's never even said one word to them." Ayliana chewed her lip thoughtfully. "Lysira thought she was mute."

Troubled, he fell silent. Shroud the light. Was that so important, that she broke her silence to tell him? And why hadn't she spoken more clearly? Unless it was as clear as her broken mind could make it. "She was using?." He frowned. "You think the Force was speaking through her, don't you?"

"I? I'm not sure."

It was possible. He recalled an entry in the archives dealing with midichlorian levels and training? there were some with just-below-borderline levels, too low for actual Jedi training. Most of the time, if the Force ever manifested itself in someone like that, it would be in the form of a Jedi Mind Trick. Simple things. A young woman somehow persuades her father to buy that new necklace she wants; a young man convinces a merchant to part with speeder components for far less than they're worth. It came in spurts, and the wielder likely hadn't a clue that it was anything other than pure luck, or innate charm.

But he'd never heard of sporadic Force usage like this. Words placed into a mouth that many thought was mute? How to tell what was actually Force-spawned and what was just mad nonsense? He voiced this thought aloud and Ayliana just shrugged.

"No way to tell. And none of it made sense, really." Her voice was brusque. She had obviously already dismissed the problem, accustomed as she was to dealing with the here and now, not the foggy future or the questionable past. Her Master had been a great proponent of Jedi attuning their senses to the Living Force.

With a sigh he sat back, rubbing his temples. His own Master had been a great proponent of learning from the past. Much insight could be gained by matching current events to past events, studying them and analyzing different paths. Different possible futures. But what else in history could this be compared to? The Force speaking through an unaware mind? This widespread extermination of Jedi? There was nothing in the archives he had seen that even came close to what had happened over these past few days.

His ruminations were cut short when Ayliana grabbed his arm, bringing his attention to the doorway. "Look! It?s your friend-"

He turned to the entrance to see Kerenne Kharr framed by the streetlights that shone through the open door. She paused, eyes scanning the room, then her gaze met his. With a small nod, she moved into the room and was immediately swallowed by the crowd.

"She's coming over here," N'oenar said, frowning. "Do you think he's-"

"We'll soon find out." Ayliana's patience was, at times, rather irritating. But he tamped down his frustration, reminding himself that she was following the Jedi way. There is no emotion; there is peace. When was the last time he'd meditated? Normally he worked on it nightly, practicing that separation of mind from consciousness, experiencing the complete relaxation of floating on the Force. But since-

No. He wouldn't follow that path right now.

He should f

 

TrinityDay: Thanks for commenting! I'm glad you enjoyed the conversation between Kerenne and N'oenar in Chapter 3. Chapter 4 was posted yesterday - it may fill in a couple of things (and open up some new questions ).

Thanks!!

 

That was quite an emotional post. I have to admit, even I'm not completely sure who they should trust at this point.

Excellent update!