Baptism by Fire: Interlude

[Jan Shadowchild]

The Chevalier touched down lightly in the empty space surrounding Shadows' Hold, servos hissing and gas jetting all around the round hatch. After a few minutes, Jan emerged, clothed in Sith robes and lugging an immense backpack. Her teeth were gritted; strong though she was, she was still small, and having a hard time with the collection of oddments that Je'gan's message had bade her bring from their quarters.

Nobody had heard from him, not in weeks, and while that wasn't uncommon, this time she had Aztaroth's testamonial to go by. The smirking little sycophant, albino and too pretty for her own good, had been living in to Olra'en's former apartment, which was where Jan had found her. Je'gan's message had included a holo and the instruction to find Choir Aztaroth before coming to the Hold.

From Aztaroth, and from Alghieri, Jan had heard the whole story. Je'gan had confirmed it telepathically. And although there was enough condemnation to go around, the Shadowworking had come to help her friend and creator any way she could.

The stairs of the black tower elongated into a spatulate platform as she approached. Once she and the bag were safely positioned in the middle of its upper surface, it began to flow up the side of the tower, lifting her into the air. Though the view was spectacular, Jan focused on using her nascent Force skills to try and find Je'gan. Her mind turned a blank. He wasn't here.

Then again, the tower wouldn't act like this unless he was, so he had to be masking his Force signature.

Even from me?

Jan felt hurt.

[Je'gan Olra'en]

The platform halted level with the flat roof. Inlaid with curving grooves and ancient runes, the entire surface functioned as a sort of meditation aid, an enhancer of power on a par with the average Sith amulet. Even that, however, wasn't enough for what Je'gan had in mind.

He was weak in many areas, too many to think of off-hand. One of those was precognition other than the split-second battle variety. Even in his deepest meditation, channeling as much power as he could stomach, it never worked for him. No visions, no dreams, no intuitions.

The centre of the roof puckered, then bulged up into a pillar about the size of a man. It sloughed off to all sides, exposing the emaciated figure of Je'gan Olra'en. Unwashed hair and clothes ripped in the brisk wind. The Sith Knight's black eyes scrutinized Jan and her luggage.

"Thank you for coming," he said gravely, gesturing to Jan to take a seat. She did so, leaving the bag on the boundary between platform and roof. He watched her for a long moment before speaking again.

"I need you to link with me."

She cleared her throat, a reflex that she didn't need. "For what end?"

"I want to see my son, and I want to see his future. For me, that takes more power than I can summon. I need your power."

"I-"

"It may be untrained," he said, cutting her off, "but it's still power."

Jan sighed. "Fine. When do we start?"

"Now, if possible."

"Here?"

"Yes."

She was already sitting, and slipped easily into meditation. He followed and initiated the link.

Their minds were similar by design. He had made hers using his own as a template, and though her brain, like the rest of her body, was made of Shadow, it was only as different from his in the Force as their differing levels of ability and experience made it. The necessary points were connected easily. Je'gan probed her Force potential to life and linked the power it yielded - less than his, though not by much - to his own will. Then they began to meditate in earnest.

For a long time there was only blackness. At last, spurred by Je'gan's entreaty, a picture swam into sight: the baby, lying in his crib.

[Jan Shadowchild]

They lingered on that picture, and though their minds were connected Jan could not tell what Je'gan was thinking. After a time they moved on.

The next picture was one of a small boy - then a young man. He looked very much like a younger Je'gan, and he was wielding a lightsaber with a brilliant blue blade. It could not be seen what he was fighting against, but he was winning. He looked happy and innocent.

The vision died, and they were sitting on the roof again. The sun was setting. Je'gan's voice spoke out of the shadow that was his face.

"I name you Esper."