Star Wars - Ashi's Shame by Daniel Peyton

Article by R. K. Wigal

Chapter 4: The Jedi

Drak Ogoro walked down the bustling marketplace of Devon Port. He had already hired a new band of mercenaries to assist him. Two walked with him right now, for his protection here, the rest waited at his ship.

Drak stepped into a bar and walked over to a blue man who quietly scrutinized the other patrons. He had a keen memory for every wanted poster in the galaxy, which meant few could get passed his examination.

“Bort.” Drak got the blue man's attention.

Bort looked at him with a disinterested face, “I've no business with you, Rodian Slaver.”

“I need to hire you for a special mission.”

Bort took a good swig of his liquor and then shook his head, “You can't afford me.”

Drak dropped a large coin on Borts table, “That's to start with. When I'm done, we will split the cut of the biggest bounty you've ever seen.”

Bort picked up the five hundred credit piece and eyed it closely to see if it was a fake. He smiled hideously at Drak. “I'm listening.”

Drak casually looked around to quickly check for any interested ears, “Look, I can't tell you much here. I don't want to tip anyone else off to what I'm up to. If we make it through this with our bounty, we'll all have enough loot to make a Hutt jealous.”

Bort picked at his teeth. “Why share?”

“I need people for this. I'm looking for mercenary bounty hunters without connections to anyone. Loners. I don't need Hutts, Black Sun, or anyone else sticking their noses into this. Unless you changed your principles, you work alone and that's what I need.”

Bort was quiet for a long moment and then finally cracked a smile. He gave off a soft, but deep laugh, “I believe you. Fine. I'll take the job, Rodian.”

“Good. Then we have a deal. Meet...”

Bort suddenly grabbed his arm and held it tight. “Just know this, Rodian, if this doesn't play out, I'll turn you in to the Hutts for what they want.”

Drak shook off this man's grip.  “Fine.  Meet me at my ship tomorrow morning. Tell no one else.”

Bort took another large swig. “I can keep my mouth shut. Especially when money's involved.”

Drak waved at his two other mercenaries and they followed him.

Out on the street again he headed deeper into the marketplace. The further he traveled the seedier the market looked. The woman on his right leaned in and asked, “Why look more mercenaries. Split bounty too much.”

He shook his head, “I've got enough people now. I need a weapon.”

They turned down an alley and the seedy street became a wicked darkness. This was not the place where any honor could be found.

The man to his right asked, “Whataa you needaa more weapon foraa? Blasters no goodaa?”

“When you fight a Jedi, you need something better than a blaster.” This was the first time Drak had mentioned the Jedi to his new associates. They both were stunned, each a bit put off by the notion. If it were not for the amount of money he had already paid, they would back out of this deal right there. Drak knew this and that is why he is paying so much up front.

Drak leaned over and pulled a cloth away from a very short door. He opened it and nearly crawled inside. The room was smoky dark with only a few red lights to see by. Shadows of weapons could be seen, but it was hard to make out what they were. Mostly because these were some very illegal weapons.

A raspy, deep female voice greeted them, “Drak, you old scoundrel. What you doing here?” A female Dug carried herself out of a small room and smiled at Drak with her few teeth. “Going to put on show? I like to watch! So good with sword.”

Drak could not hold back the arrogant smile, “No, not doing sword fight demonstrations anymore. Those days are behind me.”

“Aw, too bad,” she bemoaned, “You good. What you want from me?”

While the mercenaries with Drak began to find a few of the terrible weapons of interest, wondering which he would ask to fight a Jedi with, Drak merely leaned over and said, “I've heard rumors that you have a special weapon in your stock.”

“I have many special weapons. Look, look, you find what you want.”  She gestured toward the walls around them.

“Not one of these. The weapon you bought from Arteno.”

Her animated actions slowed down and she gave him a curious look, “What you talk about? I know no Arteno.”

“Sure, he doesn't exist. I don't care about him, I just want the weapon he sold you.”

She was nearly angry. “You cannot afford. It cost too much.”

Drak put out ten thousand credits on the table. “Is this enough.”

Her greedy little eyes lit up at the sight of all that money. “You have my attention.”

He put out another ten thousand, “Does this buy the rest of your attention?”

She slowly nodded and brushed the pile of coin into a secret compartment behind the counter. “Wait, wait. I bring you...special item.”

“Whataa weapon worth thataa much?” The male mercenary asked.

“This one.” The Dug woman returned with a small bundle of cloth and put it on the counter. Drak untied it and pulled aside the cloth.

The female mercenary gasped.  “A lightsaber?”

Drak picked it up, stunned to be finally holding one of these legendary weapons. He looked it over for a second to figure out how it worked. He found the button and turned it on. A long, green blade extended from the tip. “Let's go carve us a Jedi.”

 

Two days passed as Ashi continued up toward the mountains. He had crossed the rolling plains and was now trekking through the forested foothills. The days were pleasant, but the nights were chilly. Fall would soon grace this hemisphere of Jahala.

A large fallen tree stump lifted from the ground and floated over to join another three that had already been neatly arranged around an unlit campfire. Ashi finished placing the log and then sunk down to the ground with crossed legs. He used a small laser-igniter to start the fire and then unfolded some dried leaves around a bit of cured fish he had packed.

He slowly ate the meat as he stared deeply into the fire. The waves of heat rustled his mane and the fur on his face. His mind had wandered so far away from this moment he hardly noticed the warmth.  Being alone this long left him to his own thoughts. He spent a great deal of time alone, but it was mostly spent meditating on the force and training with his swords. Walking toward the mountains prevented either practice and this let him just think. What he thought about was how his life has changed so much, so many things out of his control had brought him to this point. Deep in that blaze of his simple campfire, he thought about his childhood.

 

Twenty-three years ago:

A young Jahalan nurse held a small child’s hand as she guided him down the street. While the males have the majestic mane around their heads, the females have long, soft hair. This nurse was very pretty, but her beauty was offset by the sorrow in her face.

“Please, little one, no more tears. You mom and dad wanted you to be happy.” She said this knowing it would not stop a five-year-old child from crying under the circumstances.

They arrived at a large building, the academy for the local branch of the Hakashan Guard, an elite training school for Jahalan fighters. Out back, two lines of strapping young men practiced fighting techniques, their master barking out commands and correcting mistakes.

An older man opened the door and looked down at the boy first. He then addressed the nurse, “Is this the child?”

“Yes. His mother passed only this morning.”

The big, strong, rather threatening man knelt down and kindly placed a hand on the boys head. “I'm very sorry, little child. Your mother and father were good people. Did they give you a name yet?”

The boy was far too scared and sad to speak.

The nurse said, “No, they did not get to hold the naming ceremony before they contracted the plague.”

“How did he avoid getting sick?” Binjin, the master of this school, asked.

“I don't know,” the nurse said, “the doctor checked him out every day to be sure. He's healthy. But, he has no family left; they were all taken by the plague.”

Binjin took the boys hand, “Come. We'll get you something to eat and find you a place to rest. You'll be safe here.”

“Thank you, Master Binjin, I know he's young for the school...”

Binjin stopped her, “I'll do everything I can for this one. Just make sure that someone stops that damned plague from killing us all.”

The nurse quietly responded, “Chief Nolith has sent out a request for help from the Republic. They're our only hope now.”

“Good.”

Binjin took the child into the school's bunk room for the newest cadets. There was a bed already made up for a child this size in the back of the room. A few toys were even lying around. This was not standard issue, it was much smaller and friendlier than the others. Great care had been taken to make this a special place.

Binjin gently lifted the boy onto the bed and then knelt down low. He wiped the wet fur on the child's face. “Little one, I'm so sorry for your loss. I lost my own son to this plague a month ago.  He was just a year older than you. Since you have no family to give you a name, I will give you his. Ashi.”

Little Ashi sniffed back his crying and finally looked this man in the eyes. He nearly jumped out of the bed and hugged him, weeping all the harder again. “I miss my mommy and daddy!”

Master Binjin held the child. “Little Ashi, everything will be alright.”

 

A week passed and little Ashi now stood out back with a small staff in his hand. He practiced with it like a much older student. He only hit a special wooden statue designed for training, but he was almost too small to reach all the marks.

The statue had several arms on swivels that swung around as you hit it, so to respond. You had to dodge it when it spun and then hit it appropriately to counterattack.

“Very good, student Ashi. You hit almost half the marks.” Binjin proclaimed, loudly. Now he addressed the other students around the yard practicing on their own various tools. “You can learn something from this cub. He's focused and listens, in one week this five-year-old has progressed faster that most of you when you joined at age nine.” More than one of the older students grumbled they didn't like being compared to a cub. Binjin enjoyed bristling their fur, it gave them the motivation to do better. He was about to say something when everyone looked up in gasps and shock.

A medium sized Republic transport appeared overhead and headed directly for the open field near the village.

Binjin had been asked by the chief to be present when the Republic representatives arrived, so he announced. “Keep practicing, I'm going to join the chief. Don't conduct any sparring while I'm away.” With those orders, he left for the meeting. He didn't want them fighting without their master on hand.  Some of the more brash students could get too rough and he worried about the younger ones being hurt.

 

The aft section of the transport opened and the landing walkway was extended. Soon several people exited the ship to meet the gathered Jahalan.

A woman in regal attire bowed to the chief, “I am senator Grinth of the Republic.” She was a white skinned, red haired woman, rather striking to look at. She held out a hand to her guests, “This is captain Gillun, doctor Rimisk, and Master Yoda of the Jedi council.”

Chief Nolith, a very old Jahalan, bowed back to her, “Senator, I welcome you to our humble planet. We were not expecting so many dignitaries from the Republic when we called for aid.”

Senator Grinth answered, “Our mission does not only include your planet, sir, but several that have been infected by this terrible plague. It is our desire to cure this illness and hopefully stem the tide of what could be a terrible pandemic across the galaxy. Since your world is not a member of the Republic, it was decided that representation should be present in case of any diplomatic issues.”

Chief Nolith smiled, “Just help us cure our sick and stop the deaths, that is all we ask. Come, I will show you to our hospital.” He led the representatives into the village.

The doctor gave a command into his wrist communicator and several aids came out with large containers on hover-carts.

Binjin stayed the longest and kept an eye on the strange little man with a genial smile.

Yoda didn't have to be told he was watched. He stopped and looked at the glowering lion-man. “Concerned, are you? A Jedi, have you not seen before?”

Binjin slowly shook his head, “Not in person. I know of the Jedi though:  peacekeepers, bringers of justice, protectors of the Republic.”

“Our reputation, you have learned correctly.”

Binjin continued to frown, “What purpose does a Jedi need for a mission of medical aid? I promise that we're no threat, we're in need of help.”

Yoda walked on with Binjin beside him, “A peacekeeper, you must be? Worried you are about me. No need to worry, no need to worry.”

“It is my job to worry. I teach these people to protect themselves.”

“Not good, worry is. No threat to your peace, am I. An observer from Jedi council is all I am.” Yoda laughed, “To see your teaching, I would like. “

Binjin agreed and led Master Yoda back to the school while the others headed for the hospital.