Journal of Yun Sedaya – Entry III
Serenno... The place where everything had first begun to waver.
Was it the Force that had led me here?
I wasn't sure anymore.
The line between will and illusion had long since blurred.
Every step I took on this cold ground pulled me years back—
to the training sessions in the ruins, the endless debates with my master, and the silences that said too much.
I could still feel the echoes of my choices hanging in the dry air of this pride-rotted aristocratic world.
Here, I realized the Order didn't know everything.
Here, I asked the first forbidden questions.
And now, I was coming back… no longer as a Jedi -
The ship slowed gradually, drifting through the dense layers of atmosphere.
Through the viewport, Serenno's gray plains stretched beneath a storm-torn sky.
Everything seemed frozen, as if time itself hesitated to move forward here.
The cargo vessel landed with a deep rumble on a secondary platform, far from any official routes.
No inspection. No customs.
Yun stepped down the ramp, hood drawn low over his brow.
A dry wind whipped across his face, carrying the dust of the rocky plateaus and the metallic scent of abandoned installations.
The port seemed deserted by everything except shadows: worn-down mechanics, grizzled smugglers, and deactivated droids slumped against rusted walls.
He paused a moment, scanning his surroundings.
Nothing had changed.
And yet… everything felt smaller. Less imposing.
Maybe it was him who had changed.
He tightened the strap of his bag and walked toward the rusted archway that led to the lower quarters.
The archway opened onto a narrow corridor carved directly into the rock, reinforced with durasteel plating.
The lights flickered intermittently, casting long, twitching shadows on the walls.
Yun moved with measured steps, each sound under his boots amplified by the heavy silence of the underground.
He stopped in front of a half-sunken door, rusted at the edges, no visible markings. No panel. No guard.
He knocked three times. Pause. Once. Pause. Twice.
A sharp click. The door creaked open slowly.
Inside, the air was even heavier. Humid, thick with oil and old dust.
A dim wall projector revealed a figure sitting at a metal table, arms crossed.
— What the hell are you doing here? You trying to get me killed, Jedi?
It was a woman. Dark skin, shaved head, not very tall.
She didn't yell, but her voice hit like a slap.
— I... need your help, Yun replied, slowly sitting across from her.
— I figured you'd crawl back here eventually…
Just didn't expect your face to be plastered across every holo in the galaxy.
— I have no choice. You're the only one who can help me, Mad.
A tense silence settled between them. She grunted.
— You can stay here for a week. No more. After that, I'll find you a transport to whatever planet you want. Then you vanish.
— Thanks, he murmured.
— And don't cause trouble. There's more and more Republic patrols around here. I'm not ending up in a cell because of a traitor.
— Don't worry, he said, distant.
— Any news?
She sighed heavily and rubbed her forehead.
— The old observatory. Some weird guy's been asking around for you. Don't know how he knew, but he wants to meet. I don't think he's left the planet.
Yun closed his eyes for a second.
— Name?
— Didn't give one. But he had a saber.
The words took a second to sink in. Then they hit.
— What?
— You heard me. Wore a long cloak, hood up. No way to see his face.
Yun stared off into the void. Thinking.
Long and hard.
— Hm... he finally muttered.
— Get some rest, Mad said, standing.
— You'll think clearer after.
He watched her for a moment.
He knew he could trust her.
She'd helped him immensely on his last mission here —
and more importantly, she had passed him... sensitive information.
It was thanks to her he'd discovered the truth about that rotten local governor, Kay Jora… or whatever his name was.
A name that clung to Serenno like a stain.
He drifted off. All the pressure came crashing down, then—sleep.
Heavy and sudden.
He didn't even make it to a proper bed — just collapsed onto a makeshift mattress, bag still clenched to his chest.
When he woke, the light had shifted. Paler. Dustier.
Mad was gone. As always, she was busy.
The comm station was dark. The caf maker empty. No note. No sign.
Just silence. And the strange feeling she'd been gone for quite some time.
He stretched, neck stiff, mind still foggy. Then rose slowly.
His eyes shifted to his bag. He opened it, checked the contents: the data projector, some rations, his old comlink, the charred kyber crystal, and of course…
the Book of the Sith.
He stared at it for a moment.
Then zipped the bag closed, pulled up his hood, and stepped outside.
The streets of the old port district were deserted at this hour.
Shuttered windows, sagging cables, a few wandering droids.
No one paid him any attention.
And that was for the best.
He headed south.
The old observatory stood on the edge of a forgotten canyon, atop a wind-battered rocky plateau.
Once used to monitor hyperspace routes, the facility had been abandoned after the Clone Wars — too remote, too expensive to maintain.
Perfect for a meeting no one was meant to witness.
He arrived at dusk.
The structure loomed like the skeleton of some rusted beast — twisted metal and shattered glass, half-swallowed by stone.
Loose cables swung from the ceiling, snapping in the wind.
Yun stopped at a safe distance.
He crouched behind a chunk of crumbling wall and watched. No movement.
He didn't move.
He stayed there, crouched behind the remains of a collapsed pylon, sheltered from the wind, his gaze fixed on the observatory's entrance.
The air had grown cooler.
The sun had vanished behind the ridges, leaving only a faint reddish glow sliding over the ruined structures.
Time passed.
An hour. Two. Maybe more. He'd lost track.
He waited.
And as he waited, the thoughts came.
The Temple.
Tonor.
The Book.
What he had been.
What he was becoming.
The Force pulsed faintly around him, like a distant breath.
Nothing clear. Nothing defined.
Just an underlying tension, as if the air itself were holding its breath.
Then, without warning... he felt it.
No sound. No movement. Just... a presence.
Subtle, dense, controlled.
A cold energy, perfectly contained.
Someone was approaching.
Yun opened his eyes.
He hadn't realized he'd closed them.
A silhouette slowly emerged from the canyon fog, hood raised, walking with calm, upright steps.
It stopped in front of the observatory entrance — without a word, without a gesture.
Yun stayed hidden, tense.
But he knew — the other had already sensed him.
The moment had come.
The figure stood motionless at the entrance.
Straight. Still. No sign of hostility.
Then it slowly lifted its head, as if it knew exactly where to look.
— You can come out, Yun Sedaya, the figure said, voice calm and composed.
— I didn't come here to fight.
The tone was almost... warm.
A whisper carried on the wind.
Yun slowly stood, not igniting his saber.
He stepped forward until he was ten meters from the stranger, ready to react at the slightest move.
But the man — for it was a man, despite the hood masking his face — didn't move.
— You know my name, Yun said.
— But I don't know yours.
Silence.
Then a slight smile appeared beneath the shadow of the hood.
— You can call me Kael.
Kael…
— You were expecting me? Yun asked.
The man nodded.
— Let's say… I was hoping you'd come. Eventually.
Yun said nothing.
He observed everything — the man's posture, his breathing, every small gesture.
No nervousness. No arrogance. Just that strange presence…
— What do you want? Yun finally asked, his voice cold but steady.
— Just to talk, the man replied calmly. I heard of a Jedi who defied a governor on Serenno, some time ago. So I came back here... to find that Jedi.
Yun frowned slightly.
— You speak as if you're not a Jedi yourself. And yet, you carry a saber.
He suddenly drew his own — the blue blade igniting with a clear, sharp hiss.
— Show me yours. Now. Or I'll cut you down.
The man didn't move.
He smiled — without arrogance.
A silence stretched between them.
Then, with a slow and deliberate motion, he drew his weapon.
A sharp snap.
A red blade ignited in the gloom, casting his features in a wash of crimson light.
— Satisfied? Kael asked with a calm smile.
Yun's blue blade hummed faintly in the air—steady, poised, but ready to strike.
Opposite him, Kael's red saber painted blood-colored streaks across the walls of the observatory.
Two colors. Two worlds.
— A red saber, Yun murmured.
— Not exactly a symbol of purity, huh? Kael replied with a smirk.
— So, you're hunted…
— Just like you, my friend.
Yun narrowed his eyes.
— Your kind is getting rare, Sith.
— And yours barely exists. This is the first time I've heard of a Jedi who reads forbidden texts and challenges the Council so openly since...
— I'm no longer a Jedi, Yun admitted.
But I'll never become a Sith.
Kael chuckled softly.
— I didn't come here to convert you.
— Then what? Why the theatrics? Why come all this way?
Kael tilted his head slightly.
— To see what you were really like. And, of course... because I'm interested in the Book. But you already knew that, didn't you?
Yun didn't answer right away.
He kept his eyes on Kael, still cautious, saber active by his side.
The wind stirred the ruins, lifting a veil of reddish dust that danced between them.
Kael slowly lowered his blade, though he didn't shut it off.
— I'm not your enemy, Yun.
Not today.
— You want the Book. So do I.
That makes us enemies.
Kael gave a faint smile.
— Not necessarily.
— What if I told you I have something even the Temple archives have never seen?
— Fragments. Writings. Written by Darth Revan himself.
Yun flinched.
Just for a second.
The name echoed in his mind like a forbidden memory.
— You're lying.
— I have nothing to gain by lying to you, Kael said calmly.
— These writings… I've never shared them. Too dangerous. Too... complex. But the book you carry is rare. Very rare. An exchange might be worth considering.
A silence fell between them.
Yun weighed each word. Each breath.
The name Revan carried a weight few could truly grasp.
A man who had drifted between light and darkness.
A strategist. A philosopher.
— Why give them to me? he asked at last.
— Give? No. I told you — it's an exchange. Nothing's free. And because… you might actually understand.
Because what Revan saw goes far beyond anything the Council ever tried to bury — and what the Sith never learned to master.
Yun clenched his jaw.
The idea was tempting. Too tempting. And dangerous.
But this kind of truth… he had been searching for it. For a long time.
— One condition, he said.
— I'm listening.
— We trade — but only temporarily. Once I've finished studying Revan's writings, I get the Sith Book back. No debate.
Kael nodded, mildly amused.
— Deal.
The halls of the old observatory were silent. Almost too silent.
Yun hadn't taken his eyes off Kael.
His saber was still deactivated, but his mind stayed sharp. He was wary. But curious.
— Revan, he finally murmured. You say you have his writings. But no one even knows what happened to him. Disappeared in the Unknown Regions, after being Jedi, then Sith, then... nothing.
Kael smiled, not turning.
— That's what the Order always wanted people to believe — that he vanished, that his legacy was lost to time. But Revan never stopped searching. Not for peace. Not for power. For truth. He saw what both sides refused to accept — that the conflict didn't come from the Force, but from those who claimed to control it.
— Revan led a war, Yun said. Against the Council. He disobeyed. Led thousands of Jedi to their deaths.
— Because he saw what the Council refused to acknowledge: The threat of the Mandalorians. And later... the Sith Emperor hiding in the shadows.
He acted. Not out of ambition. Out of necessity.
And that's what the Order never forgave — that a Jedi made his own choices. That he disobeyed... and was right.
Yun frowned.
— And yet... he fell to the dark side.
— No. He went all the way down into the darkness to understand what it truly meant. And then he came back. Not as a Jedi. Not as a Sith. But as Revan.
Kael stopped, placing his hand on a dead console.
Dust lifted slightly beneath his fingers.
— He understood what few ever dare to see: that the Force isn't a straight line between light and dark.
It's a cycle. A breath. And those who cling to the extremes… become blind.
Yun stared at him.
What Kael said echoed his own doubts.
His own anger.
— And his writings? he asked. What do they say?
Kael slowly turned his head toward him, his gaze more serious now.
— About choice. About pain. About solitude.
About what he saw in the Unknown Regions.
About the real enemy. And above all… the price he paid for trying to face it alone.
A silence settled.
Then Kael added, more softly:
— I think you, more than anyone, would understand what he went through.
Yun lowered his gaze.
The Force pulsed around them. Not in fear.
In memory.
Now he understood why Kael had come looking for him.
He wasn't here to convert him. Or recruit him.
He was here because Yun would understand.
A sharp tone broke the silence.
Yun froze. His comlink was buzzing softly in his inner pocket.
He pulled it out, eyes still fixed on Kael, and activated the secure channel.
Mad's voice burst through the static, urgent and broken by interference:
— Yun. You're out of time. Republic patrols are closing in. They're sweeping the southern sector, and moving fast.
— I'm giving you an opening to get out, but you have to move. Now.
The message cut out.
Yun clenched his fist. He should have known this would happen.
He looked up at Kael, who was still watching the scene unfold, as if he'd expected it all along.
— You have to go, Kael said simply.
Yun nodded.
— I can't stay. But I want what you promised me.
Kael reached into his tunic and pulled out a small metallic cylinder, etched with ancient symbols.
A blackened but intact holocron.
— Revan's writings. They're not complete… but enough to show you what he saw— And what's coming.
Yun took it, slipped it into his bag, and then held out the Book of the Sith in return.
Kael took it, and a dark gleam flickered in his eyes — a flash of gold, brief and strange, as if his eyes had almost changed.
Kael smiled.
Distant noises began to echo — muffled but growing louder. Engines. Shouted commands. Footsteps.
Yun pulled his hood back over his head.
— This is nothing more than a trade…
— I'll return the book, Yun. You have my word.
One last look. A silent agreement.
Then Yun turned away and walked into the shattered shadows of the observatory, his bag swinging against his side, his heart already set on the next escape.
Kael remained still.
He looked at the book in his hands, thoughtful…
Then vanished.
The ruined corridors faded behind him in a blur of dust and broken steel.
Yun ran. Each footstep echoed through the deserted underground like a warning.
There was no time to think.
Mad had warned him. They were coming.
And if she had risked calling… that meant she was already in danger.
He reached the surface in minutes, weaving through the filthy alleys beneath the crumbling infrastructure.
His breath was steady, focused.
He knew this path. Every shortcut. Every shadowed spot to disappear into.
But as he turned the final corner, everything stopped.
In front of Mad's safehouse, a group was waiting. Five—maybe six. Heavily armed.
Bounty hunters.
Equipped to hunt… and survive a Jedi.
One of them — a Rodian in a patched-up blast vest — stepped forward as he saw him.
— We've been waiting for you, Sedaya, he rasped in harsh, broken Basic.
— Nice night for a delivery.
Yun came to a halt. He scanned the scene.
And then he saw her.
Mad. On her knees. Hands bound. Blood on her shoulder.
A Zabrak held her down, a vibroblade pressed against her throat.
A cold shiver ran down Yun's spine.
— Let her go, he said in a low, steady voice.
The Rodian chuckled.
— Bad news. You're the one we want. Alive. Cooperative. But we take precautions.
Yun didn't answer.
He felt the Force stir within him, coiled like a spring.
— Easy now, Jedi. I promise you my guys are just as fast as your lightsaber swings.
Maybe you could take us all down…
But your little friend? She wouldn't make it.
You don't look like a Sith. Or a bounty hunter. (He sneered.) Bet there's still a soft little heart beating under all that Jedi grit.
Two hunters moved in cautiously.
One took his comlink. The other reached for his saber.
Yun clenched his jaw.
Then, reluctantly, he unhooked his saber from his belt and handed it over.
The hunter took it carefully, like handling a live explosive.
He stored it inside a reinforced case strapped to his waist.
— Good. Now walk. Slowly.
The Zabrak shoved Mad forward.
The group moved out, Yun positioned between two guards, unarmed.
He could feel the danger with every step.
They slipped into the lower alleys of Serenno, guided by hunters far too confident.
Yun remained silent.
But in his mind, the countdown had already begun.
His weapons were gone.
But the Force… the Force could become far deadlier than any blade.
And he wasn't finished yet.
The convoy advanced in tense silence through the southern sectors of Serenno.
The narrow alleys gave way to broader, better-lit streets, lined with old, cracked buildings still standing through time and neglect.
It was a forgotten district, spared by chaos — reserved for those who knew how to live without being seen.
Yun studied his surroundings, hands still bound.
His saber remained out of reach, locked in the case at the Rodian's side.
Mad walked beside him, silent, eyes fixed ahead.
A thin trail of dried blood ran down her temple — but she held her head high.
They stopped in front of a massive residence with reinforced metal shutters — an old manor with the appearance of a fortress. The façade, heavy and worn, still bore the faded crest of the Jora family. Yun felt his stomach twist.
The large doors opened with a mechanical groan.
The bounty hunters shoved them inside without ceremony.
Inside, the contrast was striking.
Hanging chandeliers, polished marble columns, antique furnishings...
The old luxury of Serenno's aristocracy, preserved in silence.
Everything reeked of power. Wealth. The illusion of control.
They were led into a vast, high-ceilinged hall, where a wide throne carved from black stone dominated the center.
And on that throne, seated with calculated ease… was Governor Kay Jora.
Military jacket perfectly tailored, gleaming medals on his chest.
— Sedaya... he murmured.
— You again. Filthy Jedi. Well… ex-Jedi, I should say.
Yun stood still.
Mad growled beside him.
— You should be dead, she spat.
The governor gave an amused smile.
He leaned forward in his seat.
— Tell me, Yun. Did you really think you could come back here without me knowing?
Kay Jora stood. Slowly.
His shadow stretched across the floor.
Yun raised his eyes.
He no longer had his sabers.
But he still had his mind.
His will.
And the Force.
And he knew this arrogant, greedy governor had no idea what he was dealing with.
Yun didn't answer.
He simply stared at Kay Jora, his gaze icy and unflinching.
Then, in a flash, he moved.
With a sharp gesture, he hurled the data table into the air with the Force, momentarily blinding the nearby guards.
Before they could react, he lunged at the Rodian to his right — the one carrying his sabers.
A loud crack echoed through the hall as he slammed the hunter into the nearest column.
They had underestimated him.
The case hit the ground with a metallic thud.
Yun reached out.
The saber flew into his hand.
The blade ignited in a burst of blue.
A cold light.
He spun, unleashing a storm of precise, lethal movements.
The first guard was cut clean in half at the waist.
The second was hurled into a wall in a spray of shattered glass.
A scream. Blaster fire. A weapon raised.
Yun dropped his saber low, absorbing the bolt, then deflected the next one with a sharp twist.
One guard dropped, throat scorched.
Mad, still on the floor, dove to the side to escape the chaos.
One of the hunters tried to grab her — she drove a knife into his leg, yanked from her boot.
Yun pressed forward.
Every step was deadly.
He wasn't fighting to impress.
He gave no quarter.
He struck, slashed, tore through the room with cold, controlled fury.
But soon, there were too many.
Reinforcements poured in from every entrance.
Blasters. Vibroblades. Shields.
A guard in a heavy exosuit blocked the path to the exit.
Yun backed up, sabers raised, breathing hard.
An energy net was launched. He barely dodged it — but a second hit his shoulder, jolting him with electricity.
He fell to his knees.
Kay Jora approached slowly, holding a precision blaster, a triumphant sneer twisting his face.
— I'd forgotten how entertaining it is to watch a Jedi fall, he murmured.
Then the light changed.
Abruptly.
A deafening crash of metal.
The northern wall exploded inward in a blast of fire.
Chunks of marble flew. Smoke billowed.
A figure emerged from the chaos.
Hood up. Tattered cloak. Red saber ignited.
Kael.
He raised his hand.
An invisible wave of Force hurled half the guards aside.
Kael surged into the room like a blade, striking with surgical precision.
His red saber whirled, disarming, cutting, flinging bodies aside.
Yun looked up, catching his breath.
He stood.
Kael stepped beside him, falling into a ready stance.
The room was a ruin.
Smoke. Bodies. Crumbling walls.
Chaos reigned — but at the center of it all, Kay Jora still stood.
Despite the panic of his men, the flashes of sabers, and the Force shaking the very foundation of his manor, he didn't move.
He wiped a smear of blood from his cheek and stepped forward.
— You're pathetic, Sedaya, he spat.
— You think you're free just because you left the Order? You're nothing but a bastard Jedi. A coward with no cause. A mistake who never chose a side.
Yun stared at him.
Time slowed.
A light went out behind his eyes.
Without a word, he deactivated his saber—
And threw it.
A streak of blue shot through the room with a clean hiss.
SNAP-HISS.
The blade ignited mid-flight, just before impact.
It pierced Kay Jora's skull in one clean strike.
The governor's body crumpled like a puppet with cut strings, eyes frozen wide, stunned in death.
Silence.
Then noise. A lot of it.
Footsteps. Shouts. Barked orders.
Reinforcements were coming from all sides — guards, mercenaries, combat droids.
Kael turned, scanning the scene with a single glance.
— We have to go. Now.
He grabbed Mad's arm, lifting her to her feet. She was limping, still dazed, but conscious.
— Yun! she cried out.
Yun didn't answer right away, his gaze still locked on the governor's corpse.
— YUN! she shouted again, louder this time.
He finally turned.
— Sigma-9 Point! In the ruins of the old spaceport!
Kael nodded, already prying open a collapsed side passage.
— I'll return the Book, Jedi. Promise... don't worry, Kael said with a half-smile, just as their paths were about to split.
He vanished into the breach with Mad, swallowed by shadow and smoke.
Yun called his saber to his hand and ignited it.
The noise of advancing soldiers was growing louder.
He took a deep breath, the Force flooding into his muscles, his veins, every thought.
Then he turned toward the dark corridors where the enemy waited—
And walked straight toward them.
The halls filled with sound.
Boots slammed against the ground. Droids clanked into formation. Voices barked commands into the confusion.
Yun moved against the tide, blue saber lit, humming in the tension-heavy air.
The cold light lit up his tense face, locked in unyielding focus.
A squad appeared around a pillar — three guards, shields raised, blasters ready.
Yun didn't hesitate.
He leapt with a crash of metal, blue blade slicing through the first guard's chest.
The second fired — Yun deflected it, then severed his arm and blaster in one clean move.
The third turned to flee — the Force slammed him into a wall with brutal efficiency.
But Yun didn't stop.
More came.
Droids. Armored mercenaries. Desperate men.
Yun spun, cut, dodged.
One blade. One will.
Only instinct. Precision. The sheer necessity to survive.
He collapsed a ceiling beam on a squad.
He flung an abandoned speeder into a group of soldiers.
A shot grazed his cheek. He turned, severed the barrel of the blaster, and struck at the throat.
The manor's back courtyard appeared at last.
Beyond it — the exit.
But an entire squad blocked the way.
Yun paused for a single breath.
Then shouted.
A wave of Force burst from him in an invisible shockwave.
Bodies flew. Structures trembled.
Then — silence, muffled by the settling dust.
He ran.
Through low alleys, sagging rooftops, shaking tunnels.
His heart beat with the Force.
His muscles were giving out. Time was running out.
He reached the spaceport.
Hangar Sigma-9.
Empty.
Yun froze. For a moment. Just a moment.
Panic threatened. He pushed it down.
A freighter was preparing to launch.
Engines hot. Ramp still open.
He sprinted.
— Wait! he shouted.
A man blocked the entrance, raising his arm. Captain, pilot, smuggler — didn't matter.
— Ah, the fugitive! the man laughed, watching him charge up the ramp.
— Take me. Anywhere. I'm going, Yun snapped, not slowing.
The pilot raised an eyebrow, then grinned.
— That's the plan, friend. You're lucky Mad pays well. I don't usually take traitors on my runs.
It's not luxury back there, but you can sit with the crates.
Yun obeyed without a word, sinking into the shadows of the cargo hold.
He thought of all the men who still dared to help fugitives like him, even now.
The shadow of the New Order was still strong in some places…
And clearly, not everyone had fully embraced the New Republic.
Not yet.
But it was only a matter of time.
He climbed aboard without a word.
The ramp closed with a soft hiss.
The freighter lifted off with a roar, leaving Serenno behind in the apathy of night.
He slumped against a metal wall, legs trembling.
Catching his breath, he asked:
— Where are we going?
The captain glanced over his shoulder, barely turning.
— Felucia.