Darach sat near the centre of the room, legs crossed and arms at rest. His eyes closed as he meditated. Hovering about him were several crystals of different colours, and they moved about the room  of the caught different rays of light and projected them artfully about the place.

The moment was serene, poetry in motion despite the heat that permeated the room. Despite the dust and grit that covered the wooden, half rotted floorboards. Despite the howling wind outside that spoke of a sandstorm on its way.

The moment however was disturbed.
A shrill beeping sounded as a red light flashed over the kitchen sink. The proximity alarm.

Woken from his mindful meditations Darach opened his mind to the force sense he had been silencing. Immediately several vague hazy forms appeared in his mind, only a few hundred meters away. Each of them distinctly force sensitive, many of them familiar. Beyond those smoley figures were many more, dozens. A ship crew Darach reasoned as he stood, taking up a long sleeves robe and sliding into it.

As the force sensitive's near, he clasps on his beskar reinforced vambraces. Pours water into a kettle and sets the stove alight. Returning to the thin padding he takes up his cross legged position once more and closes his eyes.

------

A knock on the door announces the arrival of the party of trespassers, though entirely a formality as even a Padawan learner would be able to sense the presence of them as they neared so close.

"Nobodies home" Darach called from his seated position, eyes still closed.

A boisterous chuckle could be heard from the either side. As well as a muffled curse.

The knock was repeated, this time much more forcefully. The door rattling in place, dust and sand falling from it as it bounced back and forth under the blows.

"That's an expensive door, I hope you can pay for any damages" Darach taunted again.

Those on the other side could be heard talking amongst themselves, though nothing could be distinguished except the tone of what Darach estimated to be a very angry Jedi.

The muffled sounds of discourse ended and the door slammed open. A powerful Force blast knocking it clear from the wall. 

Darach remained seated as 4 Jedi made their way into his home, three followed by a small offsider. Padawans no doubt.

"Has the Jedi Order turned to burglary? What is the meaning of this unlawful invasion?" The still kneeling exile exclaimed, half mockingly but his voice tinted with the signs of outrage.

A familiar face spoke first, last to enter the abode he was an old man, his hair grey, his beard trimmed neatly. His voice carried the wisdom of ages and the serenity of an ocean. Jedi Master Jagen Solimar, a one time instructor at the Coruscant Temple, he taught astro navigation and ethics.

"It's been a long time my frie-" before the elderly man could finish a younger Jedi standing to his right interrupted.

"We do not have time for this, you are summoned by the council. You will come with us" the impetuous youth was the only one of the four without a Padawan at his side. His face too was familiar. Jedi Knight Terek Del. One could scarcely be further from the Jedi ideal that Del. He was however an accomplished duelist. 

"Trepass, Destruction of property and now kidnapping as well? The Order truly strives for greatness"  Darachs contempt was obvious tempered only by sarcasm. He scanned the faces of the assembled Jedi, Solimar turning his eyes down to avoid the glare. Del meeting it ferociously.

Before Del spoke again, another of the Jedi spoke up.

"Master Darach, we have been sent to collect you. The council has called an emergency meeting and your attendance is required. Please pack your things, we must leave with haste".

The one that spoke was a Cerean, tall and lanky. His age hard to assess as he lacked facial hair. He spoke with an outer rim accent. The Padawan by his side was a green skilled twilek and looked too young to be going on missions.

"I am afraid I'll have to disappoint the Council, they are experienced with my disappointments so ought to recover quickly." 

"You WILL come with us" Del provoked, taking hold of the light saber that hung from the belt he wore.

At his motioning, the fourth so far silent Jedi did the same. Solimar stepping forward his hands up. 

"My friend it is urgent, please you must come with us" the old man practically begged. "Many lives may hang in the balance of your actions. This is not the time to harbour old grudges."

Darach's resolve fluttered, moved by the words of his old friend and mentor.  He became consciously aware of this and it provoked a revulsion in him.

"Did you volunteer for this task my friend?" 

"Ofcourse, once I heard the council was asking you to return I welcomed the chance." The old man's smile and tone was genuine. A kind soul, he thought little of the harshness of the world, the schemes of the wicked. He trod his path undaunted by darkness that surrounded him.

"Then you are as much an unwitting puppet as they seek to make me. They have turned our friendship into a weapon to use against me." 

"Enough of this" Del practically shouted and he stepped forward, arm outreached to grab the Exiled Jedi.

"WAIT!" The old man shouted as a Saber ignition sounded, a green blur coming up between Darach and the trespassing Jedi.

Appearing slightly surprised but also eager, Del lit his own saber in return. Which prompted all in attendance to do the same.

"By the order of the Jedi Council you, Bal Dur Darach, are under arrest." The silent Jedi spoke.

"The Council has no authority for such actions" Darach spat back.

"The Order is empowered by the Galactic Senate to apprehend criminals, further by order of the Senate we can judge you summarily for disobedience in refusal to heed summons issued by the Council" An eloquent type. Darach hated lawyers and sophists. Intellectual Bullys who turned minced words and turned innocence into guilt.

"The Senate has no authority here, we are in Hutt Space. By law you are trespassers and I am authorised to use whatever force I deem necessary to remove you."

The argument was valid, but the Jedi save Solimar were unperturbed. They did not respect the laws of other governments. The Hutts in particular seen as glorified gangsters.

"Everybody calm down" Solimar attempted to deescilate the situation.

For several moments there was a still silence that hung between the group.

Broken finally, Darach speaking, having accepted the fate before him.

"Send the Padawans outside, they do not need to bear witness" his voice carried resolute sadness.

The 3 Padawans shared glances at each other, then looked to their respective masters. 

The Jedi Masters met there eyes in silence, two of them shaking thier heads in refusal.. Solimar however commanded his young Padawan to await outside. The Padawan protested feebly but the old man, who voice was once a serene ocean was not an immovable mountain. The young man shut down his blue Saber and stomped outside in a huff.

After what Darach estimated to be a mental conversation, the other two Jedi Masters did the same, and within moments all the Padawans had excused themselves.

"You are arrogant beyond belief Darach, to think you can match blades with the 4 of us" naturally Del could not let silence hang without interjecting his own opinion.

"Let me ask you this Del" the exile said as he walked to the tea kettle that now whistled loudly. "If the Council trusted you three were capable enough to bring me in with force why did they also send Solimar?"

As the implication hung in the air the Zabrak poured himself a tea and raised the cup to his hips.

The casual disregard for the threat he poised, combined with the dawning realisation provoked Del into action, he surged forth with enhanced speed.

The melee that broke out was a blur to the unenhanced eye. 

Even with Solimar standing out, yelling into the group for peace, 3 against 1 were not good odds for the Zabrak Exile and despite his dedication to the ways of the Blade he was slowly but surely being pushed into a corner.

Outnumbered as he was, Darach had been alternating between form III and form II, using what little manouvrability he had to limit the attack paths of his foes, defending when trapped and biding his time to strike at vulnerabilities.

With a powerful telekinetic thrust into the Sophist, the Battlemaster sent him hurling through the wooden wall and tumbling into the sand outside. Nimbly darting through the sudden opening and scooping up the Jedis dropped Saber.

Igniting it as he swung it in a wide arc, fending off his chasers. The fight more even now, Del's Form V was powerful but sloppy, he had not reached the rank of master for a reason. He was not emotionally stable, his mind and focus easily moulded by his enemies.  His partner utilised several forms and stances but none with any degree of expertise, a clear sign he had focused on form VI: niman. Common for Jedi who did not dedicate themselves to battle, it was commendable in a way.

Many thought of Niman as 'without strength but without flaw'. Darach saw things differently. The flaw was that it lacked strength. Middling and without purpose it was easy to control the flow of a fight when your enemy knew only form VI.

As the fight moved outside Darach switched to Form IV and VII, the open area allowing him to better utilise the mobility and unpredictability of these forms.

It was not long until the Sophist rejoined the fight, now armed with his Padawans saber. Around the same time Solimar had interjected into the fight, parrying and blocking strikes from both sides. He has lost much of his power and speed with age but was close to the force so was not left outclassed. It was by all likelihood his intervention that had allowed the Zabrak to make the showing he did. 

The fight drew on but Darach knew defeat was inevitable, barring a catastrophic blunder from his foes he could not achieve victory without killing, and it was only a matter of time until he made an error that they seized upon. For all his contempt of the Order and the Council, he did not begrudge the Jedi themselves. They had lost sight of their purpose but were not irredeemable. Certainly not warranting death.

Almost as the thought crossed his mind, he sensed an imposing danger. A vengeful and dark intent. Spinning on his heel, he brought green blade up in a blocking arc, sweeping aside the death blow that Del had aimed at him. Mindlessly, he followed through in response bringing the borrowed blue Saber down in it's own crescent arc, it's trajectory bisecting the furious attacker.

With a sudden shove, Dels body shifted harshly,  limp, he was sent flying a dozen meters before tumbling unconsciously on to the sand dunes nearby.

In his place was a brown robed arm, it's palm open. The blade cut it neatly just below the shoulder. 

The battle trance Darach found himself in shunted, his conscious mind sent reeling back to reality as he met the eyes of his good friend. Who now lay crippled before him.

The Zabrak dropped his sabers and his knees went out beneath him. "You old fool why?" 

The other two Jedi seperated and turned off their blades. One running to see to the unconscious Del. The other to the pair that were now slumped before him.

"To take the life of a a fellow Jedi is no mean feat my friend" Solimar gripped at the stump of his arm. The wound had cauterized from the heat of the blade, but shock was as much a killer as bloodloss.

"I didn't mean to, I swear. It was instinct, I wasn't thinking" Darach sputtered, normally someone eloquent his mind was alight with rampaging thoughts and waves of guilt.

"It is a small price to pay if you come with us, I think I have earnt that much" the old man struggled out a smile. The pain evident across his face, his old body pushed past its limits trying to keep up with the fight that had just ended.

Darach grimaced at the thought but said nothing.

"Promise me you'll see the council" the old mans voice sounded like a crashing waves to his ears. His will inescapable.

Turning to the Sophist Darach called for him to bring the ship near, the injury was not beyond recovering. Shock was not always fatal.
The Jedi in return spoke into a comm device he pulled from a pocket in his traditional brown robe.

"Promise me, or by my word I won't step foot on that ship." The old man continued relentlessly.

"Fine, I'll see your accursed council but that's all I promise." The Battlemaster spoke harshly but his eyes betrayed his concern for his friend.

The moment was interrupted by a thud, a pair of metallic handcuffs dropping onto the sand beside Darach.

"Put them on" the Sophist spoke without emotion. "As I said, you are under arrest".

------------------------------

Some days later, still cuffed Bal Dur Darach, once 131st Battle Master of the Jedi Order, now exile and prisoner stood outside the council chambers. Two sentinels stood guard at the doors, their masks concealing their identities.

Omnionously the doors opened outwards slowly and with a creek. "Enter" one of the Sentinels spoke.

Doing as he was bid, the Zabrak walked into the council chambers.

As he did, a Cerean who sat to the left of the Jedi Grand Master spoke "and now onto the matter of Geonosis."