Chapter Four: Moving On
Wallace figured there was something he could do. He could seek out this knowledge, bring it to light, and have the jedi grow stronger for it. He could be the hero he felt Revan should have been considered. He just needed a way to follow this path.
Wallace activated his comlink, hoping Zax would pick up. His droid contact was Wallace's only hope of getting what he needed. He waited and waited, growing anxious as more time passed. Wallace almost hung up the channel, ready to search for some other contact...
"You know, when I said I hoped you'd call again, I didn't mean the next day." The humorous droid voice said.
Wallace filled with relief and cracked a grin. "I need a ship, one capable of long distance travel to some uncharted sectors of the galaxy."
"I'm a smuggler droid, not a shipyard vendor. That's a tall order, jedi. I don't think I can do that." Zax replied honestly.
Wallace let out a disappointed sigh. "I need a ship...'
There was a moment of silence that passed between the two acquaintances.
"I have a ship. I could give you a ride, at least for a little while. I did really rip you off for the security bypass. Maybe I owe a little something." The droid offered.
Wallace hesitated.
He'd be leaving the jedi order. He wouldn't be able to tell anyone, especially Taruk, for they'd never allow him to go. He'd be an exile of his own doing. Depending on how long his journey took him, he may even be declared dead... He'd be giving up everything he knew...
"When can you leave?" He asked with a sigh.
"How soon can you get to me?"
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8 years later...
Taruk had grown weary and separated over the years, waiting for his protege to return. They had left without so much as a goodbye. He should have seen it coming. He and Wallace had been growing apart ever since Taruk left him alone for his studies. Now eight years had passed and no one had ever heard a word from Wallace. Taruk still had to hope he'd come back, he could feel him.
Despite all his efforts not to, Taruk had formed a bond with Wallace. His power, while dampened by the jedi, had initiated it. Taruk didn't think that Wallace could feel it, his power seemed to be the only giver and receiver in the bond. Taruk played no role in it. Now he felt the bond grow even stronger than before. Wallace was probably feeling his true, now that he was on his own and not being dampened.
Taruk still hoped his former student would return, though he knew he wouldn't be there to see it. He had a feeling, more than hope, that Wallace would return. The power Wallace had felt more raw, darker. He felt a want in Wallace to return, but he feared what would face the jedi when he did. Taruk knew he wouldn't be there to see his former padawan return and what Wallace would bring with him.
Taruk had grown too old to carry out deeds for the council. He lay in his bed feeling weak, not with pain or in power. He felt weak in his heart. He didn't have long. His only regret would be not making things right with Wallace...
The guest he had summoned came quietly into his room. They wore the tan and brown robes of a jedi knight. They were taller than most people, being about two inches over six feet. He had pale blue eyes and spiky black hair. A light stubble formed around his chin. He was younger, about twenty-two, around the age Wallace was when he left. They were one of the few people who had known Wallace too.
"You wanted to see me, master Taruk?" The young knight asked gently and respectfully.
The old master smiled. "You don't need to speak as if I'm dying. Your voice won't do any harm, Kylar."
The older Kylar Zen knelt beside Taruk's bed. "Of course, master."
"You were friends with Wallace, right?" He asked.
Kylar glanced to the floor. "I thought we were..."
Taruk took his hand. "I'm a dying man, Kylar. I know I really have no reason to ask you a favor..."
"What is it, master Taruk? I'll help you with anything you need." Kylar assured the respected jedi.
"I have a feeling, you could say it's in the force, but I'm not sure anymore. I have a feeling that he'll return someday, maybe not as the person we knew. There are things about him that we kept secret. Things that if- when- he learns about them, he will be different, perhaps darker." Taruk explained. "I need you to promise me something, Kylar."
"Anything." The young knight assured.
"When Wallace returns, the same or not, I need you to be there. If he is not the good soul we made him, if he's darker, I need you to promise to bring him back to the light... one way or the other." Taruk said quietly.
Kylar was confused. What worries did Taruk have? He knew that he couldn't deny this man his dying wish. They both had cared for Wallace. He would like to see his old friend return. "Of course, master Taruk."
The old jedi smiled in his last moments... "Thank you..."
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Ten years later...
Kylar Zen, now in his early thirties and a member of the jedi council, sat in his meditation chamber. His eyes were closed and his mind was focused. The pieces of his primary lightsaber floated in front him and clicked together, fitting perfectly with just a bit of wear from going through this process multiple times.
The blend of silver and black medals complimented each other well. The lightsaber had the activation stud in the usual area, a bit below the blade emitter and finely closed focusing lense and above the hand grip. Slight grooves were chiseled into the hilt to maintain a good grip while spinning and fighting. At the bottom of the hilt was a round sphere with several knobs protruding from it. It acted as a piece for style and a last resort weapon for bashing. It was a lightsaber with two crystals, one that provided it with the color and one that worked with the fine lense above that made the blade thinner for more precise attacks.
Kylar finished piecing it together and took it in his hand. It always felt great to hold his most prized belonging in his hand. It was a one of a kind, no other jedi had one like it, for the primary crustal was extremely rare. This made Kylar feel even more proud of this technological wonder.
The other jedi were aware of his skill and fascination with lightsabers. He had mastered all forms of lightsaber combat, finding his own blend of them, and was unmatched by any other jedi in the order, even by the old master Crovel. Crovel was astounded when Kylar, his apprentice, had surpassed him, but he was proud nonetheless. Some time after he had made his way into the council, Kylar had been deemed worthy of the title of Jedi Sword Master.
Kylar had shaped his own life, remembering his promise to the late master Taruk, but never having to fulfill it. Eighteen years had passed since Kylar's old friend had left, and for eighteen years he had not returned. Kylar still felt slightly betrayed by his friend for leaving without so much as a goodbye but he had moved on, knowing he wouldn't see Wallace again...
Kylar rose to his feet and clipped his primary saber to his belt, his black combat robes flowing over it. The council was meeting soon to debate a matter of rising tensions on a distant planet. He had to be on his way.
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Star Wars: Knights Of The New Republic
Science FictionThis is purely fanfiction. I've set this story in a timeline that does not clash with the movies or any of the expanded universe. It has been a thousand years since the Jedi returned and Galactic Empire was defeated. The Sith have been destroyed an...