Fear. While the Jedi had escaped unharmed the investigation and review of his actions on the Imperial outpost all those years ago, there were still those on the council that had their reservations. He’d been granted the title Master younger than any Jedi in a generation, barely halfway through his twenties and honored as a leader among their order. But there were the doubts, the fear of being discovered, that led him into a self-imposed state of partial exile in the Outer Rim. Alone in a ship with nothing but his lightsaber and his wits, the Jedi patrolled some of the most lawless and despicable portions of the galaxy as atonement for his sins.
Grand Master Athwo was one of those who believed in the Jedi, one of those who saw the future of their order in the young man even a decade later. Still, a young man, the stress of his experiences brought fine lines to the corners of the Master’s eyes as he scanned the display. Maybe a few of those bright blond hairs were actually silver hidden among the platinum strands. As imposing as the man was, most would find it difficult to pin down his real age because of the wisdom and experience in his gaze. Besides, the beard and the long hair worked against one another as they made the man seem his real age of thirty-five all the way through his mid-fifties.
When the signal of an approaching ship flickered onto his screen, the Jedi assumed it was another of the marauders out seeking easy prey along the disused shipping lane. Picking off the riff-raff of galactic pirates was far below the skills of a Jedi Master, but it was all he could bring himself to do as part of his atonement for his sin all those years ago. Besides, it kept him far from Tython and the whispers about his deeds that flitted just outside his hearing when he returned home. Better to bring an end to scum than feel like scum.
But the ship didn’t make the typical furtive entry into the region; instead, it made a direct line to his hiding place within the asteroid field surrounding the largest planet in the system. Almost as if they knew the Jedi were there, they approached and began to broadcast in the council’s frequency toward his ship.
“Master Andivar, your presence is required. Please prepare to dock and come aboard at once.” The message was imperious and demanding, but then again every public message from Grand Master Athwo was the same. Still, there was nowhere to run even if he could, and no reason to run from a Jedi ship. So the Master turned on his engines and began to power up systems to leave the cold rock where he hid and join the head of his order for a debrief.
Fear. Every time Andivar entered the presence of other Jedi, fear welled up inside of his heart. That was the problem, it fed itself as he spent time with them and it drove him to the outer reaches of the galaxy to avoid. Fear led to the Dark Side, and if a powerful Jedi could sense his concern, then he would be outed and stripped of his position and likely his freedom. But when the Master of the Order came to you, you could not refuse his audience or his demands.
Andivar’s shuttle was on the large Republic cruiser within minutes of the first transmission, and he changed into better robes before he disembarked. They’d have to settle for his somewhat disheveled hair and uneaven beard, he had been alone for nine months and paid little attention to his appearance in that time. The Master was not a proud man, he knew his abilities and spoke plainly about his skill and desires; the last thing he would do is care about what others think of him and how he looked.
Inside the ship, a young soldier led the Jedi Master deeper into the bowels of the vessel, toward an interior chamber he knew had a series of holographic communicators. It seemed he would appear before the full council this time, which only added to his fear. Every ounce of his being pushed down that emotion and allowed it to be swallowed by his artificial annoyance over the interruption to his penance. There better be another galactic war to call him from his exile, or Andivar would make his displeasure very well known.
A young Padawan stood at attention outside of the chamber door, a beautiful youth of tall stature and impressive physique. That brought back a bit of the conflict inside of the Master’s body, a tinge of the forbidden sexual desire he fought to keep at bay twisted around a sharp spike of anger at himself for being distracted so easily. Perhaps being alone so often was not a proper penance, one that allowed his desires to focus and sharpen to the point of pain. As he passed, Andivar kept his eyes straight ahead and strode into the waiting chamber without another glance at the boy. Whoever he was, he was someone else’s problem.
Inside, there was a moment when the Jedi Master paused, surprised that there were three of the council in physical attendance. While it wasn’t unusual for the council to be called away on business for the order, to have three in one vessel was quite unique. The other nine were represented in the faded-blue haze of holographic projection, either back on Tython or off on their own missions in the galaxy. When he reached the center, Andivar knelt in honor of the Grand Master, then stood and ignored the rest of the staring faces.
“You sent for me, Grand Master?” he asked, the low rumble of his voice even more gravelly than the last time he had been before the council. Long years with very few words spoken had only deepened and roughened the Master’s voice. Maybe it was the age he added, as well, the act of growing into his manhood after the horrors of his youth.
“Indeed, Andivar. The Council has decided it is far past the time you should take a pupil…” he started, one long finger raised in warning as Andivar moved to speak over the older man. “A skilled Jedi, such as yourself, needs to share his experience with the Padawan to help mold and shape the next generation of Jedi. You are the only Master without one in the entire galaxy, some even have two or three. Now is the time for your service,” Athwo finished as he withdrew the finger at the last word.
Andivar fumed, he didn’t need a child to step underfoot. He couldn’t be trusted to teach one in the ways of the Force when his own placement was so shaky. All of these were likely arguments the smug men and women staring at him from across the galaxy had said when debating the issue, but it was clear the Grand Master had prevailed.
“As you wish, Grand Master,” was all he could manage, another low bow to the older man as he waited for more detail. If he were lucky, the child would be independent enough to handle things on his own and leave Andivar to his penance. If not…perhaps death was what he deserved after all of those years.
“Good. The young man is outside, I will introduce you, and you will take him to Felucia for a task,” Athwo continued, happy to see the kneeling Jedi take things so easily. “Wait for me outside, the Council has further business. I will introduce you to the young man and your mission.”
With that, Andivar was dismissed, and his fear spiked higher. The young man outside, the one he had eyed, was the Padawan. “Of course he was,” Andivar thought to himself, already prepared for his doom. His sin had come back to roost, his betrayal of his people again to haunt the rest of his days. As he stood and left, all the Jedi could feel was dread and fear as the last of his hope faded.