Despite the obvious progress, Vokara Che refused to "discharge" me. The Twi'lek pretentiously stated that the healers needed to run several more studies, and only then would I finally be "released."
Once again I went through several scans, handed over a few bits of myself for tests, and then received strict orders to remain in the Temple until Kiala contacted me. She promised everything would be over in just two or three weeks.
I didn't dare object—I didn't want to quarrel with the healers, and besides, during the waiting period before discharge I planned to carry out the Emperor's will.
I didn't have the spirit to contest Vitiate's will and ignore his order: go to Yavin 4. And despite the fact that I didn't have a personal ship or an astromech droid, I didn't want to voice those problems to my teacher.
After all, if I couldn't solve my own problems, what use would I be to him as an apprentice?
Fortunately, the Temple had unlimited access to the Holonet—the galaxy-wide information network.
In my room, I "surfed" the network in search of ways to get to Yavin 4.
Unfortunately, after the first searches I realized a flight to the future Rebel base would be harder than it seemed at first.
And it wasn't even that there were no regular space routes to the planet.
The Yavin system wasn't present in the available databases at all. As if it had never existed. The route's destination was missing entirely. I couldn't find any mention of the planet on the Holonet, which left me at a loss.
Making a note to visit the Archives and look for information there, I started seeking transport options.
For a couple dozen Republic credits, private haulers were willing to take a customer anywhere in the galaxy. But most required payment up front. Such offers reeked of fraud—and besides, I didn't have money.
Of course, there was the option of using Order ships, but the dispatchers refused to issue a ship because I had no assignment from the Council. And taking a hyperdrive-equipped ship "for a joyride" wasn't welcomed in the Temple and threatened trouble with the Council and Temple Security. The option of getting money off the books nearly ended in a scandal as well.
The longer I thought about carrying out Valkorion's assignment, the more irritated I became.
Reading books and watching films and cartoons set in Star Wars, it always seemed to me that the Force accompanied Force-users and always helped them in difficult situations. But in my case, the Force wasn't rushing to hand me solutions.
The decision to go to Yavin immediately had to be postponed. And I'd spent a couple of days trying to solve this snag!
In the end I concluded you have to eat an elephant in pieces. First and foremost, I needed to restore my abilities in the Force and in lightsaber combat. After all, very soon I would have to lead one of the clone legions. But more on that later.
I didn't fear wars. I had gained Dougan's knowledge—maybe not fully, but enough not to be dead weight on the battlefield.
My predecessor, like many who died on Geonosis, was a practitioner of Form VI—the "Diplomat's Form." Balanced, without significant advantages, but not glaring with disadvantages either, it fit the image of peacekeepers perfectly.
Niman could provide decent defense against blaster weapons, but in a fight against an army of droids it hadn't helped the previous owner of my body. It hadn't helped Master Abhir against Valkorion either.
In short, not the most suitable form of lightsaber combat.
I considered adopting Soresu, which Obi-Wan Kenobi wielded masterfully. But I set that thought aside for later—when I acquired a lightsaber.
I had lost mine on Geonosis. As it turned out, during the fighting a droid had shot through the hilt. So the saber I'd assembled at fourteen was now worthless to me. Even the crystal hadn't survived.
At Aayla's suggestion, I decided to visit the storerooms.
"With the quartermaster, Tasi Gri, you can find anything," she assured me.
We were standing in the Temple District's docking complex, waiting for the units under her command to load aboard Acclamators. Secura didn't talk about her mission, and I didn't ask.
"He should have Ilum crystal stockpiles," she recalled. "And many Padawans take lightsaber components from the storerooms." With a smirk, she patted her lightsaber hilt.
"Thank you for the advice, Aayla," I nodded. "Take care of yourself!"
"Get well, Rik!"
After parting warmly with the Twi'lek, I headed toward the quartermaster's office.
As I wandered the Temple corridors, a rough list formed in my mind of what I wanted from Tasi Gri.
The quartermaster turned out to be an elderly Nautolan with a scar from forehead to chin. He listened to me with mild laziness, then scratched the tentacles at the back of his head.
Behind him, from floor to ceiling, massive racks stood in neat rows, their countless shelves literally sagging under the weight of excess goods. Tools, comlinks, datapads, blasters, melee weapons, speeders, droids… even ingots of precious metals! I'd wager the storerooms weren't just one massive hangar in the Temple District where I was standing now.
"Not bad." He tapped a few keys on his terminal and said, "Lightsaber parts are available, but don't blame me—find them yourself. Armor… no idea why you need it, it only restricts movement, but it's your business. That's available too—though the freshest is a thousand years old. The Order hasn't ordered armor since Ruusan. A backpack, a couple blasters, a set of plasma and ion grenades, cable, grappling hooks, a pair of vibroknives, a couple robes and cloaks, a week of rations, power packs, lights… You need a ship to haul all this out. Already brought an Acclamator up to the berth?"
Looking into the laughing eyes of the Nautolan—eyes without whites—I couldn't help smiling back.
"No, I'm still in the healers' hands, so I'll bring an assault ship later."
The Nautolan smirked with satisfaction.
"Where do I deliver it?"
Here, I admit, I stalled a bit. The Force, which had been pleasantly enveloping me until then, suddenly seemed to reach somewhere deep into the endless racks. I wouldn't say it yanked me off my feet, but a gnawing feeling appeared in my stomach, like an old wound had opened.
"Dougan!" the Nautolan called. "You fall asleep or something?"
"What?" I asked. "No, not asleep, it's just something in the Force…"
The quartermaster waved a hand, making a face. The storerooms belonged to the Service Corps, and there weren't many Force-sensitives among its members. Maybe among the researchers… So all my talk about the Force meant nothing to Gri. I'd heard stories about him. Weakly sensitive to the Force, he had found his calling in supply. A true warrant officer out of army jokes. He had everything—just ask…
"I'm asking where to send the shipment. Do you have apartments in the city? Or a ship in the hangars?"
"To my room," I said, lowering my eyes. "I only returned to the Temple recently—I have neither apartments nor, especially, a ship."
"Yeah, that's rough," Gri snorted. "You'll pack your whole room. You just become a Knight or what?"
I nodded.
"Not long before Geonosis. My Master died in Wild Space, and I returned to the Temple. And then I went straight to Geonosis…"
"My condolences," a shadow of sadness flashed across Gri's face. "Heard it all went off the rails there…"
We talked about the Geonosis battle for a few more minutes, then a pair of droids arrived with repulsor carts meant to carry out the items I'd requested.
"Let's split up," the Nautolan suggested. "You look for lightsaber parts and check the armor—look in sectors 6, 14, and 22. I'll handle the rest." After rummaging in his pockets, he handed me a comlink cylinder. "Call me when you're done."
"Well, I'm off," I waved to him. The Nautolan handed me a datapad so I wouldn't get lost among the endless racks, then, together with one of the droids, disappeared into the storeroom depths in the opposite direction.
Smirking, I pushed the platform in front of me and, motioning the droid to follow, went deeper into the search.
***
Compared to the Jedi Temple storerooms, Ali Baba's cave, the Count of Monte Cristo's treasures, or any other analogs were nothing at all.
Like a customer in a supermarket, I wandered between hundreds of racks, using the section map and notes on the datapad as a navigator.
Almost immediately, upon entering sector 6, I ran into lightsaber parts.
Hilts, emitters, lenses, power cells, wiring, buttons and regulators… By my estimate, you could assemble several hundred—if not thousands—of sabers out of all that.
One of the key points in assembling a saber is precisely fitted parts. Make one small mistake—boom, and your brains are on the nearest wall. Dying didn't appeal to me, so I decided to take spare parts—just in case I had to replace something during assembly.
After loading a couple boxes of mechanisms onto the platform, I started searching for armor.
In sector 14, I found nothing suitable. Jedi cloaks with light armor elements on the chest and abdomen. Justice Corps cuirasses. Police gear. Several sets of armor from unfamiliar parts of space. Nothing that would interest a Jedi about to go to war.
But in sector 22, I found a couple interesting examples.
Like clone armor, the Jedi armor I found from the Ruusan era was based on a reinforced-fabric bodysuit. The bodysuit itself could take several blaster shots. And the additional armor plates—breastplate and backplate, greaves, bracers, gauntlets, thigh plates… together, the full set provided solid protection to the wearer.
But after a thousand years, most of the electronics had already degraded, so it would need replacement.
Sweeping my eyes over the countless racks, I dismissed the fleeting doubt that I wouldn't be able to find suitable parts to repair the armor.
The next item on my list, and the last, was crystals.
I left the rarest—yet at the same time most accessible in the Temple—part of a lightsaber for last.
I found the crystals in a special storage area after returning to sector 6.
In several huge metal boxes, like multicolored candy, crystals mined generations ago lay before my eyes. Jedi from across the galaxy brought them back from their travels. Especially valuable and rare specimens were kept in the Temple's living quarters. But before me lay crystals that were not so rare—yet still enormously valuable on the black market—crystals from Ilum, Adega, Dantooine…
Focusing the Force on them, I felt only a weak response. Crystals have no inherent might in the Force, and they were unlikely to pass any useful properties to my lightsaber blade.
I scooped up a handful, let them cascade back into the box, admiring the play of light. However…
I oriented myself on the map and headed for sector 14. According to the codifier, it held equipment and gear for light excursions. Finding a sealed metal-plast backpack, I returned to the boxes and filled it with several handfuls of crystals.
Even if these crystals were of little value to Jedi and lay here for the needs of the weakest—those who didn't even fly to the caves themselves—these multicolored stones would bring me far more profit than they ever would to Order members.
"Dougan, you still there?" the comlink suddenly crackled to life.
"That's right," I confirmed, setting the backpack on the repulsor platform.
"Great," the Nautolan's voice made it clear he was smiling. "I think I solved your ship problem. Head to sector 24—we'll meet there. Give the platform to the droid—have it roll it back to my office."
I admit, Gri's words got me genuinely interested. Solving the ship problem would simplify my life enormously. And I wanted my own ship…
After getting lost twice among the endless racks, I finally reached the sector in question. Comparing the layout to the Temple's plan, I realized we were practically on the border between the ziggurat and the Temple District.
The Nautolan was waiting for me impatiently near the shaft of a cargo turbolift. The platform, which could easily fit a small speeder, had an enclosed cabin with several fogged windows.
"Come on." The quartermaster waved me over and stepped into the doors that opened as he approached. Without a word, I followed. The cabin lurched away with a soft hum.
It was obvious it hadn't been used in a long time. A nasty, whistling sound of high-speed travel invaded my ears.
"The Docking Complex is planning to expand," the Nautolan declared without preamble, raising his voice to be heard over the noise. "They're reopening old facilities—back from the wars with the Sith. Some of it is storerooms, so all the relics in there fall under my authority…"
I only caught Tasi's words with half an ear, listening instead to sensations in the Force. The unsteady call that had vanished the moment I entered the zone saturated with Force-noisy crystals returned. And judging by everything, we were traveling toward its source.
"…The workers opened a few old storerooms, and there's ancient tech in there," Gri continued. "I checked the archives—they mothballed ships that are about four thousand years old. There are newer ones too, but still—all of them are being scrapped."
"And why are we going there?" I didn't understand.
Gri blinked his huge eyes—eyes without whites—for a few seconds in silence.
"All the ships there—and there are at least a couple hundred—are going to auction. Maybe some neutrals or remote systems will want to buy discounted Order ships. The money, as I understand it, will go toward buying new ships from the Rendili yards."
"You think they'll all sell?" I asked skeptically.
"I think they wouldn't take them even for free." The Nautolan waved it off. "Their only path is the smelter—disposal program." He started explaining. "You can't find old inventory lists for love or money, so they'll have to build new ones based on what's actually found…"
"Aaaah," I drawled. "Now I get it… That's a great offer, Gri!"
"Well, what did you think?" the quartermaster smirked. "Only this stays between us, all right? And I'm hoping for a достойная gratitude from you."
"Without a doubt, friend!" I extended my hand for a handshake. Tasi looked at it in confusion and didn't move.
"You need to shake my hand," I explained. "On my planet, a handshake is a symbol that we have no hostile intent toward each other."
"Sounds like barbarism," he said, and shook my hand with his left.