Second Chance/Part 7

Narasi reclined in her hammock, but even in the quiet of the Museum of Agriculture and Roba Husbandry, she could not forget the battle. The roars and screams and concussive explosions, the blasterfire passing close enough to crisp her hair. And Tirien, fighting the Sith Lord's power, keeping the walker in place while Master Cazars laid waste to the Sith lines. She did not understand exactly what had happened afterward, but Tirien had not been willing to talk about it, and as the Sith had collapsed from a strategic retreat into a rout, they had stayed behind, letting the soldiers carry the day.

Master Cazars hadn't enlightened her either, even as she had shared a look full of meaning with Tirien. Narasi wondered if she should have been a little more intimidated serving so close to a Council Master, but the Twi'lek exuded confidence in a way that filled Narasi with admiration. She wished they had a chance to talk more.

She heard footsteps in the corridor between rows of equipment, and propped herself up on her elbows. "Tirien?"

"Not quite," said Mali Darakhan, giving her a tired smile. "Just as skillful, but a bit more roguishly handsome."

"Master Darakhan!" Narasi said in surprise. Rolling out of her hammock, she reached for her boots to pull them on. "Is everything okay? Do we—"

"Relax," he commanded; he leapt, and the Force carried him up to the seat of one of the harvesters to which her hammock was attached. As he settled himself into the driver's seat, he said, "It's the calm between storms."

Narasi sat cross-legged in the middle of her hammock, looking up at him. "What happened with the monster?"

"Sithspawn," Mali said, making a face. "It ate half my platoon before Aldayr and I brought it down."

Narasi looked around. "Where is Aldayr?"

"Getting dinner. I'm not hungry," he explained. "Besides, it gives us a chance to talk."

"Talk?" Narasi asked with a little thrill of anticipation.

The Corellian nodded. "I figured we probably should. Starting to feel like there are things you want to ask me, and I know there are things I want to tell you."

The young Zygerrian wondered at the possibilities. Scrambling for something to say, she happened upon, "What's that coin you have?"

Mali laughed. "Not where I expected you to start, but okay. This?"

He dug the bronze disc out of his pocket and tossed it down to her. Narasi saw the crest of the Jedi Order engraved on one side; the reverse had an eight-pointed star, along with two smaller copies, one cut in half. Puzzled, she asked, "What is it?"

"A Jedi Credit. My master's, to be precise."

"A Jedi Credit?"

"It's not money," he explained. "It's an old Corellian tradition. When a Corellian Knight becomes a Jedi Master, he gets a few of those to give to his master, and his friends and family.  That's Corellia's crest on the back.  I got that from my master.  It's…well, I'd be a bad Jedi if I believed in luck, but I'd be a bad Corellian if I didn't.  So we'll say it's like a good luck charm.  And it reminds me of my master—of the kind of Jedi I want to be."

It made sense, and Narasi felt special hearing it. He was easy to talk to, and open in a way that reminded her of her friendships at the Temple. She had learned more about Mali Darakhan in a week than she had about Tirien Kal-Di in almost three months.

She extended her hand, and Mali drew the Jedi Credit back to his grip with the Force. "Will you get one when you become a Jedi Master?"

He chuckled. "If I become a Jedi Master. I have a long way to go yet."

"Aldayr says you're a good master," she hinted tentatively.

"A lot of Knights are good masters to their Padawans," Mali returned. "That doesn't make them Jedi Masters."

Narasi was silent for a moment, wondering what to say, and Mali's green eyes turned thoughtful. "You're jealous of him? Aldayr?"

"What? No!" Narasi objected; she had no desire to be the young Human.

"Of the things he's seen and done, maybe?" Mali probed. "That we've seen and done?"

Narasi hesitated.

Mali turned the chair of his harvester in her direction, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and giving her a smile. "Go on, speak freely."

"I…" It felt disloyal, but Mali's kind acceptance won out over months of emotionless rebuffs. "I thought it'd be different. Not the missions, so much; I knew there would be battles, and Tirien and I protected Senator Iltek together, and…we tried to help at Gizer."

She lowered her head in memory of Rhosa and Master Shadeez, then said, "I'm not jealous of what you and Aldayr have done. But I wish…well, you like Aldayr, don't you?"

"I do," Mali admitted with a nod. "He's still young, but he's got a good heart and a brave spirit. I hope I can help him become the Knight he's capable of being."

"I wish my master liked me," Narasi admitted. She couldn't meet Mali's eyes as she spoke, but it felt somehow better to say it. She realized she had been sitting on her emotions for months, since that disastrous last day at Gizer; it was healing to let them out.

"You think he doesn't?" Mali asked.

"He doesn't want me," Narasi said, and she squeezed her eyes shut for a second. Remembering hurt. "He told me he doesn't want me."

"I talked to him about you, you know," the older Jedi mused, and Narasi looked up, startled. "Not that it was much of a conversation. Actually just talked to Master Cazars, too.  You think he doesn't want you?"

"He told me he doesn't," Narasi repeated.

"Did he?" Mali asked, and his expression was insightful now; it reminded her eerily of Tirien. "He didn't want you? He was all set to take a Padawan, but the Council wouldn't let him have the one he wanted, but made him take you instead?"

Narasi frowned, thinking over the conversation again. Tirien's words had cut her to the core, but that made them impossible to forget. "He…well, no. He said he didn't want any Padawan."

Mali nodded. "It's not you. It's never been you.  Tirien…well, he's always been a little solitary.  I hear Pantorans are like that, but I'll bet even they're not usually like him.  I know Tirien as well as most Jedi, and I think very highly of him, but truth be told, I don't know him that well personally at all.  I'm not sure any Jedi really has, except his master."

"His master?" Narasi asked with interest; it was among the many things she wanted to know and had never managed to get out of Tirien.

"Mmm. Suwo Tolp.  I only met him once, but my master thought he was great at what he did.  Jedi Sentinel, though; lots of long-term missions without much contact with other Jedi.  I hear Suwo was pretty solitary, and not much of a conversationalist." Mali winked. "Any of this sounding familiar?"

Narasi giggled, but then she grew serious. "His master…Master Tolp…what happened to him?"

Mali sighed. "He died, dueling a Sith Lord. Tirien was there too; he was able to kill the Sith.  That's how he got his Knighthood."

Narasi rocked back, her hammock swaying with the movement. She remembered Tirien discussing his Knighthood with Karr Shadeez, what felt like forever ago; he had never mentioned, then or since, the loss he had overcome for the victory.

"I didn't know," she managed.

"I'm not surprised. Tirien's always been an introverted thing, and with Suwo dead it's gotten…well, I'll be nice and say 'more pronounced' instead of 'worse'." Mali smirked. "But he's used to doing his own thing, his own way—and in his defense, he's good at it. He probably thought having a Padawan would hurt his ability to do what he does.  I'm not saying it's right to think that way, but you can see where he's coming from, can't you?  It's not you, Narasi, it's anyone being close to him and changing the way he works."

Forced to think of it in that light, Narasi had to admit he had a point. "Okay, but…well, he said it might only be temporary. That the Council said they'd reconsider."

"That's not quite the way I heard it from Master Cazars," Mali said dryly. "I think they'd only step in if it was really wrong."

"But isn't it?" Narasi asked. "Is this the way it's supposed to be? He doesn't teach me, he doesn't want me, he doesn't care about me…"

She was starting to whine and she knew it. Taking a deep breath, she told herself, ''I'm a Padawan. I'm better than this.''

Mali watched her center herself, but didn't speak until she met his eyes again. "You keep saying he doesn't care about you," he noted, "but the way he tells it, he's saved your life at least three times now. There were some shooters on Taanab?"

"Well, yeah, but that was kinda my fault," Narasi admitted. "I was trying to help, but I think I just made things worse. He got us both out of it."

"And the backup assassins?"

"I was protecting Senator Iltek then, he was probably just protecting the senator."

"And what about Gizer?" Mali asked. "He saved you rather than fight Darth Alecto, too, didn't he?"

"Well…yeah," Narasi said, but then she smiled sheepishly. "But I'm sure any Jedi would've done that for his Padawan."

"I wouldn't."

It took a moment for the force of the words to register. When they did, Narasi's eyes widened, and her ears backed a little, the hair on the back of her neck standing up. "I…you…what?"

"Faced with the choice of saving you, or taking down a Sith assassin who had just murdered a Republic admiral and two Jedi? I would've let you fall so I could take Darth Alecto down." He shook his head. "And not just you, I'd have let Aldayr die in the same position. Knowing what Alecto's done since, I'm not sure Tirien shouldn't have let you die to stop her."

Narasi felt cold, and she wrapped her arms around herself. "You…you don't care about us either?"

Mali sighed and hopped down, leaning on the side of the harvester only a meter from her. "No, I do. But Narasi, Jedi live and die in service to the light side and the Republic.  Sometimes that demands we make sacrifices."

He gestured with one hand. "Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe he couldn't have overcome her and he knew it; I couldn't, when I fought her.  Or maybe I'm too battle-hardened and focused on defeating the Sith; occupational hazard of being a Guardian, I suppose.  Maybe saving a life is always better than taking one, and Tirien Kal-Di is a better Jedi than I am.  I'm man enough to admit that's possible."

He gestured with his other hand, and the force of his gaze held Narasi spellbound. "Or maybe just maybe, even the impregnable wall of ice that is Tirien Kal-Di is capable of attachment too."

Shrugging, Mali said, "At the end of the day, Narasi, Tirien was there and I wasn't. He's a good Jedi, and I'm not going to second-guess what he chose, or hold him responsible for what Alecto's done since; nobody could have known that.  But if you think any Jedi would have done for you what Tirien's done, you're wrong.  And he might be an unfriendly guy, but from where I'm standing, it looks like he does care about you."

Narasi had a sudden and vivid memory—not of Tirien saving her life, or even Alecto's ruthless smile, but of two Human guards telling her master that 'the Zygerrian' could wait while he spoke to a senator alone, and her master refusing to even consider deferring to their disdain. Even Mali and Aldayr had reached for their lightsabers when they first saw her, but Tirien, who had not even wanted a Padawan to begin with and had made that plain enough, had never once treated her differently for what she was, or tolerated anyone else doing it either.

Seeming to sense her introspection, Mali laid a hand on her shoulder. "I don't know what the right thing for you and Tirien is, Narasi. I'm just a Knight, and it's just my two centicreds, take it or leave it."

And he strode from the room, leaving Narasi alone with a whirlwind of thoughts.