Tion Medon's Staff

“What about that?” Karr asked, pointing to a staff that reminded him of the one he had back at home, in his collection.

The shopkeeper exclaimed, “Ah!” and grasped the stick in his hand. “Good call. This baby comes with some authenticity.” He rotated the staff to reveal a name etched into the side.

Karr tilted his head and read the name aloud. “‘Medon’?”

Sconto waited for a bigger response, but then confessed, “Yeah. I wasn’t sure who that was, either, but then I looked him up. And if it’s who I think it is, this staff belonged to Tion Medon, the port administrator here in Pau City back during the Clone Wars.”

“So he saw some action?” Karr asked.

Sconto shrugged. “It’s possible. I wish I knew for sure if it was his, because it would fetch a nice price if so, but unfortunately Medon isn’t as rare a name as I’d like it to be.”

Karr was only halfway listening. “Sir, could I…touch it? I’d be real gentle. I don’t want to break it or hurt it, I swear.”

Sconto handed it over to Karr. “Since you’re such good students, I suppose I could allow it. You want to record it, yes? For your project?”

“Yes!” both kids said together.

From the bottom of her bag, Maize produced an imaging unit as proof of their good intentions.

“Very well, here you go. Please be careful, though. It’s pretty fragile and I’d hate to have to call your parents for money, should you cause any harm.”

Before he even reached for it, Karr knew he’d gotten lucky. The piece was definitely old, and his skin was on fire before his fingers were fully around it. Then, as he stared at it with something like delight—and something like terror—he gently squeezed.

There was a flash. There was darkness.

There was a blurry image. Karr tried to focus, but it was no use. And in some ways the fog added to his terror. He saw a lanky figure dressed in reddish brown. And though he couldn’t make out the face, he most definitely saw jagged teeth and bleeding eyes. Karr tried to convince himself that the eyes weren’t really bleeding—that it was just a normal Pau’an—but he couldn’t be sure. It was almost enough to make him let go of the staff back in the real world, but before he could react, the Pau’an blurted out, “Greetings, young Jedi. What brings you to our remote sanctuary?”

Karr quickly turned to see whom he was talking to, wondering if his body was turning in Sconto’s shop, as well—when, suddenly, he saw him! A man wearing, from what he could tell, a brown belted robe. An actual Jedi Knight. At first, Karr couldn’t hear him—but his voice came in very clear, very suddenly: “Unfortunately, the war.”

Karr wheezed and blinked furiously. The image skipped and jumped in time.

“With your kind permission,” the Jedi continued, “I should like some fuel and to use your city as a base as I search nearby systems for General Grievous.”

“He is here,” Tion Medon whispered as he stepped closer to the Jedi. “We are being held hostage. They are watching us.”

For a moment, Karr thought Medon was referring to him. But the image jumped again.

“Tell your people to take shelter,” said the Jedi. “If you have warriors, now is the time.”

More sputtering. Karr desperately held on to what he could. Everything was becoming fuzzier. His vision skipped in and out, went black for a second, then returned.

The Pau’an bowed to the Jedi, steadying himself with the same staff Karr was currently holding. As the port administrator turned to leave, Karr heard another figure ask him, “Is he bringing additional warriors?”

Medon responded, “He didn’t say,” and crossed once more to the exiting Jedi in a conspiratorial fashion. “Master Kenobi,” he whispered as he approached his ship. “General Grievous is a force to be reckoned with. Will you be bringing additional troops?”

The image of Kenobi flickered, and his voice went in and out. Karr tried to stay in the vision. “…rest assured…necessary arrangements. General Skywalker and I dueled with him…planning accordingly.”

The world around Karr sparkled and hummed; reality went in and out of focus, trading places seamlessly with the psychic mirage of the Jedi Master from long before.

He wanted to know more, wanted to stay in that world forever, surrounded by what he imagined were thousands of Jedi. But he also wanted to make sure he didn’t faint or fall—or break the staff that meant so much to the shopkeeper.

“Son, are you all right?”

“Karr? Karr, come on—snap out of it!”

“Sir? Do you require medical attention at this time? Here, sir.” RZ-7’s voice cut through the static. “Let me help you sit down. There you go, that will do.”

Karr allowed himself to be lowered to the floor. Maize’s small fingers pried his away from the staff, and she handed it back to Sconto—who appeared genuinely concerned. He’d come around from behind the counter, and he hovered nervously above them.

“I’m sorry,” Karr gasped. “I’m so sorry, everyone. It’s nothing, I’m fine. I swear, I’m fine. This happens all the time. I’m only…”

“He has thin blood,” the droid informed the shopkeeper. “A tragic condition, but you see, that’s why I travel with him—for his safety, and the safety of others. He will be fine. Please give him a moment.”

The big man fidgeted nervously. “What does he need? What can I do?”

Maize patted Sconto’s arm. “His medical droid will take care of him. Please don’t worry. He needs some food, that’s all. I’ll take him…around the corner. There was a place, wasn’t there? He’ll be back to his old self in no time.”

“There are many places in this district, though only a few have food he could eat. Here, let me go get you something….”

“No, no. Please don’t go to the trouble. Thank you for your time,” Karr said, struggling back to his feet with the help of his droid.

“You’ve been very helpful. Maize, did you…did you take any pictures of the staff?”

“Oh, yeah, I’ll do that right now,” Maize said, capturing some shots with her imaging unit.

Before they could shuffle out together, Karr paused. He turned back to Sconto and said, “Sir, thank you for letting me hold your artifact. It’s quite a find. And if you ask me, it definitely belonged to Tion Medon. So make sure you price it accordingly.”

The shop owner looked at the staff with new eyes. He didn’t have to believe the boy, nor was there any reason he should, really, but Karr sensed that he did. “Thanks,” he said with a smile. “I will.”

Everyone else chimed in, thanking the shop owner profusely, and backed out of the crowded little store as fast as they could without raising further suspicion.

Karr’s head was still ringing a bit from the blackout, but when they were back on the street, he couldn’t contain his excitement. “I saw one! I saw a real Jedi!”

“What? In a vision?” asked Maize.

“Yes. From the staff. And he was everything I imagined he’d be. The robe and the…well, all I could make out was the robe, but it was definitely a Jedi. The administrator addressed him as one.”

“Wow,” said Maize. “And here I thought it was enough you found someone to confirm the existence of your crazy crusaders”

“You can’t call them that anymore,” Karr said with exuberance. “Because we found proof! And because I saw one.” He was so excited that he began to feel light-headed again. “Whoa.”

RZ-7 steadied him. “You’ve experienced a lot, sir. Perhaps we should get some food in you.”

“Yeah, I think food might help.”

RZ-7 said, “The Pau’an diet isn’t likely to agree with either one of you. Let’s try the next level down. If nothing else, we should find a cantina or something that caters to off-worlders.”


- Force Collector, Chapter 7