Twist of Fate/Part 2

The AgriCorps chapter house on Taanab was a quiet building of arched stone, low ceilings, and wide windows to allow ample natural light. Dormitory space for both AgriCorps Jedi and their visitors was spare, leaving more room for meditation chambers and the house's lush garden. Under the Forceful ministrations of Taanab's three AgriCorps Jedi, the plants produced a bountiful harvest of food to nurture their caretakers and seeds to spread the next generation of green and growing things throughout the Inner Rim.

It was a place of peace, calm, and meditation, and Tirien Kal-Di had obviously found himself at home, spending long hours in contemplative silence, unmoving, barely seeming to breathe. Though she had tried to mimic her master, Narasi found herself continually falling short of the Jedi Code. She was barely keeping her head above the churning waves of emotion, and there was no island of peace to be found.

As soon as they had arrived at the chapter house—Tirien had told her they would be staying on Taanab rather than returning to Coruscant—Narasi had taken the first moment to shower. But no matter how she scoured her face and claws, the water cranked so hot even the Force could barely help her stand it, she still didn't feel clean. She remembered the echoes of the Ishi Tib's death; she saw the lifeless bodies of Senator Iltek's guards in her dreams.

Her master had saved her life twice on Taanab, cutting down her attackers with blinding speed, but their every interaction since had made her wonder if he regretted it.

She sat down on a flagstone on the path through the garden, poking at a lush orange leaf disconsolately with the claw of her index finger. It flushed a darker red.

"Ouch," said a soft voice. Narasi looked over to find Finja, a Roonan Jedi a couple years older than her, looking at her.

"Oh," the Zygerrian answered. "Uh…sorry, I didn't mean…"

She trailed off, sensing the Roonan's gentle amusement; the Force told her more than the other Jedi's vaguely curved mouth or enormous, pupil-less eyes.

"It's all right," Finja answered, taking a seat in the dirt. Like her fellow AgriCorps Jedi, she wore burnt orange robes trimmed in brown, but here in the garden they looked like natural earth tones rather than Narasi's initial impression of burning embers.

Reaching past Narasi, Finja stroked the leaves, and ripples of color followed her touch. "It's a ch'hala tree," she explained. "They're very rare. It reacts to touch and sound.  It would change color if I yelled, too, but I don't want to; it's peaceful here.  Well, usually."

She looked from the tree to Narasi, whose ears backed a little. "Is it that obvious?"

Finja crossed her legs, folding her hands in her lap. "Your master seems at peace here, but you're not."

Narasi blew out a breath, drawing her knees up to her chest. "I…thought I was ready. I was a Jedi Initiate so long, and then he finally chose me as his Padawan and I thought I'd be ready for anything."

"And you're not?" Finja asked.

"It's not that…" Narasi replied, frowning. "I just…I thought he'd be teaching me more. I'm not ready to be a Knight, I know that.  But isn't he supposed to help me become ready?"

"Have you tried talking to him?"

"It's not easy," Narasi grumbled. She reached out a claw for the ch'hala tree, but then checked herself and brushed it with her fingertip instead. Focused now, she thought she could sense a faint, instinctive reaction in the Force. "Was it like that for you with your master?"

"I'm not a Knight," Finja answered quietly. "Not even a Padawan."

"You're not?" Narasi asked in surprise. She looked at the lightsaber on Finja's belt. "But…Master Saotu…"

"Saotu is a Jedi Knight," Finja agreed, "and he's the master of the chapter house. But he's not our Jedi master.  I…didn't pass my Initiate Trials."

"Oh," Narasi said awkwardly. "And Olik?"

"He didn't complete his Padawan apprenticeship."

At a loss, all Narasi could think to say was, "I didn't know Service Corps Jedi carried lightsabers. I've never met one before."

As soon as the words were out, she flushed. All the Initiates in Berguutfa Clan feared getting sidelined into the Service Corps, dreaming of becoming Jedi Knights. As the last year had dragged on, Narasi had begun to dread the day when she would be called before the Reassignment Council and told she would never be a real Jedi. But she suddenly felt ashamed of herself for sharing the woes of her apprenticeship when Finja hadn't even gotten one.

"Not all of us do," Finja admitted. "Most AgriCorps Jedi only have the training they got at the Temple as Initiates. But Saotu says Taanab is too close to the front—that sometimes even Jedi who help to preserve and nurture life might have to fight to defend it."

"And take it," Narasi added, looking down.

Finja patted Narasi's hand gently before a deep, slow voice said, "The dilemma of every Jedi."

Narasi looked up and found the chapter house's resident Jedi Knight, Saotu, ambling toward them, ducking to make it under the stone arch of the door. The Ho'Din's gangly limbs swayed like palm fronds as he moved, and his red-violet, snakelike "hair" swished in the light Taanab breeze. Like Finja, his monochromatic eyes and wrinkled face were hard to read, but he lowered himself gracefully to sit beside them.

"Your master told me you slew an assassin, trying to protect him," Saotu said.

"He did?" Narasi asked apprehensively. The Ho'Din had spent many hours in meditation with Tirien, but Narasi hadn't heard them exchange many words, even at meals. "What…what else did he tell you?"

"Little else," Saotu said evenly, lacing his long fingers through one another. "But it troubles you?"

Narasi looked at them both. Finja had laid a gnarled gray hand on the soil; even as Narasi watched, she felt the Force flowing into the ground, and the grass nearest seemed to brighten to a more vibrant green.

"It just wasn't what I expected," Narasi confessed; the feeling of Finja's ministrations in the Force was oddly soothing. "There was so much blood, and he felt so afraid."

Saotu nodded thoughtfully. "Killing is easily described, but not so easily done. Tell me, Narasi, did you hate him?  The Ishi Tib?"

Narasi frowned. "No. No, I didn't hate him."

"Were you afraid for Tirien?"

"I…yes," Narasi confessed. "A little."

"And is that fear why you killed?"

Saotu had leaned toward her, his alien face focused on hers. Narasi thought about it, forcing herself to relive the seconds that led into her leaping, lethal slash. "No," she realized. "No, it wasn't fear. I thought my master needed help."

Saotu nodded, sitting back. "Perhaps he did, and perhaps not. Your master is a skillful Jedi, Narasi; even here among our plants and bushes we have heard of Tirien Kal-Di.  But no Jedi is invincible, and all of us sometimes need help.  But whether he did or did not, you intervened with right intent."

Narasi slumped where she sat, feeling some of the weight lift from her shoulders. Finja gave her a more pronounced smile, and Saotu added, "The AgriCorps may never know the trials our Knights face on the front lines. Our enemies are rot and disease, parasites and limited resources.  But sometimes even we must prune rather than allowing unchecked growth.  Sometimes, Padawan Rican, lives must be taken to prevent an even greater calamity."

Though she still felt the blood on her hands, Narasi thought it was a little thinner, and she smiled for the first time in days. "Thank you, Master Saotu." She cocked her head to one side, her smile becoming a little sheepish. "Did my master ask you to speak to me?"

"He did not," Saotu replied. "We were interrupted at our meditation, and I thought I would take the opportunity to help you unburden yourself."

Narasi lowered her gaze, but nodded. "Thank you."

They had been the words she needed, and she was grateful for them, but her gratitude was tinged with just a hint of regret as she imagined what they would have meant coming from Tirien Kal-Di rather than Saotu.

"What interrupted you, Saotu?" Finja asked.

The Ho'Din breathed in, eyes half-closing. "Perhaps he will tell us."

Narasi sensed Tirien's approach only just before he stepped into the courtyard. Though she didn't think the day was too hot, Tirien still had the sleeves of his Jedi tunic rolled up to his elbows. His yellow eyes found her at once, and she got to her feet.

"What is it, Master?"

"Get your things, Narasi," he told her; she noticed belatedly that he already had his satchel across his body. "We're leaving."

"Yes Master." She darted to the room the AgriCorps had given her, piling her belongings into her backpack. With little room to spread out, it took her only a moment to find the last stray sock, and she was back in the courtyard in time to see Tirien and Saotu exchanging bows.

"Thank you for your hospitality, friend," Tirien said.

"Our brothers and sisters are always welcome here," Saotu answered slowly. "May the Force be with you both."

"And also with all of you," Tirien answered.

Finja smiled. "Good luck, Narasi."