Revenge of the Jedi/Part 16

The serving droids poured Gaebrean's brandy, and he held the glass to his nose and inhaled the aroma as they moved on to Raven. "Mmm. You're too good to us, Uncle."

Taking a sip from her own glass, Raina watched her father's brow arch as his gaze swept the room. "Repay the courtesy, then, and give us all your thoughts."

Sir Vinton Kaivalt swirled his brandy, though he had not yet drunk it and seemed only vaguely aware of what he was doing. "Foreigners propose an assault against a hardened Sith site—and renegade foreigners at that, defying their own lawful authorities—and they seek Tapani willing to die alongside them? Is that about the size of it?"

"I suppose it could be described that way, if it's rather pessimistic…"

"And somewhat less than nuanced," Raven added.

"Of course you would think so." Vinton's mouth twisted as if he had tasted something sour. "Bad enough that Raina and Raven serve foreigners on foreign worlds and deprive the Tapani sector of their talents, but now you ask if we should follow them when even their own Jedi Council won't endorse them? No.  Emphatically no.  Our duty to the Force is the protect the Tapani sector; even if my niece and nephew have denied their heritage—"

Raina stiffened and Raven's brow beetled in anger; even Cesylee looked embarrassed. Miklato showed no emotion, but he cut in, "That will do, brother, thank you."

Raina and Raven had been raised respecting Miklato as their father, but that was the only authority he ever sought to wield over them; even when they had announced their decision to serve the Republic, Miklato had debated the matter with them and made his disappointment clear, but ultimately conceded to their decision. His baronial voice was reserved for matters of state or gatherings of Tapani nobles or Jedi; that he would use it in private, to his own brother, spoke more of his anger than any uncontrolled facial tic could.

Raina could tell her uncle was surprised by it, but he did not go on; Miklato was the Baron Kaivalt and head of the family, and they were not, after all, commoners. Miklato asked, "Kaelora?"

As everyone else looked at her, Kaelora looked at her father. Tall and slender, wearing the floor-length gown variant of Jedi robes that had gone out of fashion save for librarians and mystics in the mainstream Order, she had long since settled into the regal air and stately grace she had affected when they were children. Raina remembered tagging along with Kae long ago, trying to be like her big cousin. Kaelora was the eldest of the five cousins, and though they were all Jedi Knights, at thirty-one she was the only Tapani knight among them.

Vinton did not return Kaelora's gaze, and after a moment Kaelora faced Miklato. "We should save this discussion for Lord Brascel's arrival."

"I had hoped we might come to an agreement and present a united front to him as a family." Miklato glanced at his brother, then Raven. "Having awoken from that dream, I'll settle for all of us being well-acquainted with one another's thoughts so we can present Lord Brascel cohesive arguments instead of wasting his time with quibbling."

"That being the case, I think my father's right. About this business of Allanteen," Kaelora clarified, fiddling with the engagement sapphire on her hand. "I grieve these Jedi lost at Eriadu—we all do—but this mission is rash and impulsive, and when it fails—and I think it will—it will only draw Lady Gasald's eye to us."

"Do you think she's blind to us now?" Raven asked.

Miklato raised a hand before Kaelora could respond. Raven frowned, and Raina cautioned him with a glance and a mental prod from across the room as their father asked, "Cesylee?"

Cesylee did not respond at once, sipping her brandy thoughtfully. She was neither as tall nor as beautiful as her elder sister, but her warm, heart-shaped face put others at ease, and when she laughed, the sound brought sunshine inside even on a rainy day. Walking over to the holo Raven had pulled up for their reference, she tapped a world that lay on the hyperlane connecting Gasald's stronghold at Allanteen with the Tapani shipyard world of Fondor. "Is there any possibility that the Tapani fleet could reinforce Chardaan?"

Miklato and Vinton traded a look before Miklato said, "A better question for Lord Brascel."

"Assume, for our purposes, that there isn't," Vinton added.

"If there isn't…" Cesylee's gentle face grew troubled. "Without knowing about this Jedi Master Bnodd and his fleet, and where they might come into Gasald's territory down the Run, I think someone has to act. If the military isn't planning a response and the High Council won't sanction Jedi involvement, who else is there but us?"

"Gaebrean?"

"Of course we should go!" Gaebrean replied at once. "Gasald's a Jedi killer who knows how many times over, and now she's practically on our doorstep! And this business of drawing her eye to us…psh.  Come on, Kae, you're smarter than that.  If Raven and Raina weren't enough, wasn't some Gonzed baron of House Cadriaan on Milagro too?  If Gasald's half as wily as they say, she'll know all about us by now."

"So you'd compound the problem?" Kaelora demanded.

"I'd end the problem! Take her out and strike a blow for the Jedi and the light!" Raven nodded, but of course Gaeb could not give him a clean victory. "It'll be an adventure worthy of the Pelagia chronicles—the Knights of House Kaivalt save the galaxy again!"

Kaelora closed her eyes like she had a sudden headache as Vinton said, "Much as it pleases me to discover that you do have some inclination to honor our family name, son, suicidal heroism seems a strange way to begin."

Many Tapani nobles would have taken great umbrage at that, but Gaeb only laughed. "It's only suicide if we fail. And we're the most powerful Jedi family in House Pelagia—in the entire sector, perhaps!  If we stand united, we can't fail!"

He actually got to his feet, raising his brandy snifter as if he had proposed a toast in their honor. No one else stood, even Raven, and after a moment Gaeb dropped back into his chair, though even as he threw up his free hand and shook his head, he did not spill a drop. "Shall it be cowardice, then?"

"It's not cowardice, it's simple logic," Kaelora said. "We have no fleet, and even if we had all the sector's might behind us, it would be no match for Gasald's armada. There are only seven of us, and even if we all went and you add Kal-Di, his Padawan, and Razam, we're ten Jedi against Vedya Gasald, all her Sith Lords, all their Acolytes and adepts, and her entire army.  If we go, we die."

Gaeb shrugged as he sipped. "Death in battle is honorable."

"But not when the death is needless, and accomplishes nothing," Vinton countered.

"If Gasald gets here, our deaths might be needful, but they'll accomplish just as little," said Raven. "If we kill her there, we throw her whole force into disarray, even if we die in the process."

"But the Council of Five will just appoint another Overlord, won't they?" asked Cesylee.

"Eventually. But we can buy the sector time—certainly months, maybe a year or two.  When Master Cazars and Mali Darakhan kill Aresh, the Republic will have the ships to spare to reinforce the south."

"If they kill Aresh," Vinton said. "No one has yet managed that feat. And that assumes Darth Saleej doesn't seize Coruscant amidst this chaos you seem certain will follow Gasald's death."

"You've been quiet, Raina," Kaelora pointed out. "Where do you stand on all this?"

Raina's voice had been silent, but inside the clamor was terrific—how could they, Jedi Knights all, not sense it? She had sworn to serve the Republic and obey the Council—had knelt before Master Tem-Fol-Rytil, not Lord Brascel or her father, to have her Padawan braid shorn away. The Council had given her an explicit command. But however he might maintain his noble, Jedi reserve more than Gaebrean, Raina knew that, in the end, her brother would go with Tirien. He respected Tirien, and, more to the point, he agreed with the Pantoran Knight's assessment. When she had immersed herself in meditation, Raina had seen her own mind clearly enough to admit that she did not think Tirien was wrong either. Not entirely, at least. No matter how much loss or personal animus might impel him toward Allanteen, and regardless of the wisdom he might disregard, Tirien had sacrificed none of his intelligence in the process.

But her uncle's point had merit. If Aresh managed to defeat Master Cazars and Mali—or if he just held them off a few years more—the Sith Empire would recover from the stumble of Gasald's death and unleash its wrath on the Tapani—it was not only errant Sith the Empire chastised for an anointed Sith's death. And when that Sith was an Overlord…

"Raina?" asked Vinton.

"Both sides have strong points," she hedged.

"But what is your view? If this mission were to depart tonight, would you go?"

Raina looked at her brother, who cleared every emotion from his face. She saw the thermal detonators strung along the spiritual bridge between them, waiting to be triggered. They had disagreed before on matters of import, but this went far beyond mere divergent views—this was sending her brother to what would likely be his death and refusing to be there at his side. When they had been children, they had both believed they would live and die together. Even when they had grown and seen that belief only for the early understanding of their twin bond that it was, Raina had privately clung to the notion in her heart—a touch of destiny, macabre though it might be.

But a grown Jedi Knight had to cast aside mystic romanticism and see the truth plainly. Raina had a Padawan now, a young Jedi who trusted her and had been entrusted to her, a brave and remarkably selfless girl whom Raina could not lead to ruin. She was a noble and a Knight, and she had made a vow.

"No." She looked at her uncle rather than Raven. "My brother isn't wrong, Uncle Vinton, and Cesylee's right too. If this mission goes through and succeeds, Gasald's death could change the course of the war.  At the very least it'll buy the sector time."

Gaeb sat forward; Raina wondered if he would feign offense at not having been included, but he said, "So then why—"

"Because I made a promise," Raina said. She turned back to Vinton, and now she stood to look down on him. "Regardless of what you may think of me, I'm as much a noble of House Pelagia and a member of this family as any of you. I gave the High Council my word to obey them; they commanded me to stay here, so here is where I'll stay."

Kaelora gave her a nod of encouragement, but if Raina expected her words to shame her uncle into acceptance, he disabused her of that fantasy at once. "And you, Raven?"

Raven sipped his brandy once before setting the glass aside. "I have to do what's right. Gasald has to be stopped."

"Hear, hear!" Gaebrean raised his glass and started to rise; Cesylee tugged him back down.

"And your oath to the High Council?" Vinton pressed. "You gave the same pledge your sister did, did you not?"

Raven's jaw tightened. "I did."

"And will you break faith with them on this whim?"

"Whim?"

"Is your word to even the foreigners worth nothing, boy?"

Raven's eyes narrowed and he stood. Kaelora's eyes widened and she rose as well, while Cesylee put a hand on her father's shoulder. Raina set down her brandy glass, warning her brother with a glance when the motion drew his eyes. His eyes tightened in a way Raina had seldom seen directed her way, but a nigh-imperceptible nod put her at ease.

He turned back to their uncle. "I am a Jedi Knight. My first duty, always, is to the Force—not to the Council, and certainly not to the judgment of petty nobles more concerned with the fashions of the moment than the fate of the galaxy."

Raina thought Vinton might snap the thick stem of his glass. "Are you insulting me, boy?"

"Of course not, Uncle," Raven said coolly. "I meant the petty nobles who put more store by traditions and vanity than the will of the Force. Whyever would you think that applied to you?"

"I think we've explored our diverse viewpoints sufficiently for one night," Miklato said. "Bernius!"

The door opened and Bernius stepped in at once. Though he would never harm a member of Donarius Kaivalt's bloodline, Raina sensed tempers cooling at his very presence—taller than any of them, bulked with armor, his photoreceptors glowing blue. Raina remembered him wiping away her tears at some minor hurt when she was barely old enough to stand, but those same durasteel fingers that had been as gentle as a feather on her cheek could curl into a fist with enough power behind it to crush a Gamorrean's skull if Bernius wished it. That only made his pleasant, protocol droid's voice more disconcerting as he asked, "Yes, Your Honor?"

"You've seen Dame Cyndobel to her quarters?"

"I transported her effects there. She preferred to become acquainted with Miss Cul'Caritas before retiring."

"So much the better. Show my brother and his children to their rooms, please."

"Of course, Your Honor. Please follow me."

Raina led the way out, waiting only for Raven—she dreaded what he would say to her, but now more than ever they needed solidarity against everyone else, even family. They left the private parlor and were down the corridor before anyone else had even cleared the door; only when they reached the foyer and the shadow of their great-grandfather's statue did they break stride.

"Raven…"

He held up a hand; his soft, dark eyes, so like her own, looked sadder than anything else. "You have to do what you feel is right, Raina, always. And so do I.  In a war like this one…we may not always have the luxury of agreeing what that is.  As long as we trust the Force…"

He left the obvious unstated—if both of them felt driven by the light, at best one of them had misinterpreted the Force's will. At worst…Raina dared not consider the shadow passing between them, the dark claiming one of them and setting that one against the other.

Raven's eyes tightened, and he only squeezed Raina's hand before sweeping off through the manor and right out the back door; the exterior lights brightened quickly enough for Raina to catch a glimpse of him vaulting the porch's balustrade. She knew where he was bound—the quiet hollow of the toppled tree they had found decades ago as children, wandering through the estate's woods. It had been his favorite spot for meditation since; Raina joined him now and then, but she knew her brother wanted to be alone.

Sighing, she stepped into the visiting parlor instead, where her aunt and her Padawan were chatting animatedly. Cyndobel Kaivalt had given Kaelora her noble good looks and Cesylee her kind eyes; once, when Raina had asked what Gaebrean had gotten from her, Cyndobel had laughed and said, "All the color from my hair!" But she wore the gray as proudly as she had once worn the blonde Raina remembered, and despite having no command of the Force herself, she commanded her children's respect.

"Raina, child, come in," Cyndobel said. She had plumped past the svelte physique of her youth, but she still rose and wrapped Raina in a hug with lightfooted ease. "This charming child's just been regaling me with your adventures on Milagro."

"Most of them weren't my adventures, Aunt Cyndobel," Raina said as she returned the embrace. "The tribunal was important, but not particularly exciting."

"That's our Raina—ever the modest Jedi," Cyndobel said to Renata, who smiled. "But I'll have none it, thank you very much. Renata tells me you were in the thick of the fighting with Mali Darakhan himself!  Corellian, of course, but we'll forgive him that—he's a rather estimable commander, if the HoloNet's to be believed.  And quite good looking, as I'm sure you've noticed…"

"He's a brother Jedi, Aunt Cyndobel, nothing more," Raina said as Renata giggled.

"Well, so much the better! Keep the bloodline strong!  You'll be thirty before you know it, dear, and any knight in the sector would duel for your hand then—"

"Aunt Cyndobel, really!"

Cyndobel smiled wickedly as Renata squeezed up her whole face, obviously struggling not to guffaw aloud. When she got a good look at Raina's expression, though, Cyndobel's eyes narrowed and her face sharpened into concern. "What's bothering you, Raina?"

"I…nothing, Aunt Cyndobel. Just Jedi matters."

"Don't give me that, now, I've been in this family too long to buy that tired old excuse. Did your uncle say something to you?" When Raina hesitated, Cyndobel groaned. "Oh, Shey's Stones, what's the uptight old Khormai done now?"

Renata was no longer laughing, silently or otherwise; her eyes had widened and her mouth frozen in a small, confused smile of extraordinary discomfort. Raina sighed. "Aunt Cyndobel, please. Renata's fourteen years old, a commoner, and my Padawan."

"And? I raised my girls to think for themselves at that age, and they were both Padawans as well.  And as for being a commoner…"  Cyndobel turned to Renata. "Dear, I'm glad you're sitting, as this may come as something of a shock, but being a noble doesn't magically—or Forcefully—protect us from being stupid."

"I'll…um…remember that, ma'am."

"Good, do. They'll knight you if you become a Jedi, and I'd like to think any Jedi trained by my family will be a step above the average.  Then again, look at the one I married.  Strong in the Force, or so I'm told.  Excellent swordsman, my heavens, yes; I remember watching him duel before we were even of marriageable age—even his own brother could barely manage him, and him five years older!  And as noble a bloodline as you could wish—the Kaivalts' lineage goes back even further than mine.  All that, and yet he can't accept something as simple as a difference of opinion."

Kaelora had already been a Jedi when Raina and Raven were Knighted, but even though Cyndobel had had that point of comparison, she had never taken her niece and nephew to task for their choice. Raina, who had always been fond of her aunt, loved her all the more for that, but she said, "There's more at issue here than just Raven and me, Aunt Cyndobel."

Cyndobel sat back down, patting the seat beside her. "Tell me, then. Allow…how did you put it, Renata dear?  Allow an old mute to hear the choir of the Force, even if she can't sing along."

Renata blushed so red that her freckles jumped out on her cheeks. Raina was tempted—still struggling with her own feelings, she would have welcomed an outside perspective to help put them in order—but she knew her first duty could no longer be to herself. "I have to brief Renata first, Aunt Cyndobel—alone, I'm afraid."

Renata rose as Cyndobel clicked her tongue. "Oh, go on then, play the mysterious Jedi. In fact, I think I hear your uncle coming—once I've finished with him, he'll tell me whatever I want to know!"

Raina bowed. "Good night, Aunt Cyndobel."

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Dame Cyndobel," Renata added.

"Oh, the pleasure was mine, dear. And Raina, you and your brother keep your chins up.  Your mother and father put good heads on your shoulders; you both know what's right and what isn't."

Raina gave her aunt a smile, but she could not hold it as she turned and led Renata away. She and Raven knew what was right…but if they disagreed, who then knew the right?

As Raina led the way into Inimă Eserzennae's basement, she asked, "The 'choir of the Force', eh?"

"I read it in a databook—a Jedi philosophy text." Raina no longer had to look at her Padawan to see Renata's mortified expression. "I promise, I didn't call her a Force-mute!"

"I never thought you did; I like to think, even without me, you'd have a little more tact than that. My aunt enjoys adding hypermatter to the annihilator from time to time.  Take it as a lesson—never say something to someone you don't want repeated, especially when that someone is a noble."

"Yes, Master."

Between the first floor and the manor's well-stocked liquor cellar, Inimă Eserzennae's basement housed the Kaivalts' family treasures and heirlooms too precious for public access, including Donarius Kaivalt's holocron, as well as a machine shop for their droids and indoor training rooms. It also had a meditation room; while any Jedi worth her lightsaber could meditate anywhere, and the estate provided abundant opportunities to meditate under almost any conceivable conditions, sometimes there was no substitute for focused meditation. The circular chamber featured a ring of a dozen leather tuffets; by the time Raina had been Knighted, her grandfather Rhosus, Inimă Eserzennae's architect, had been long dead, so she had never been able to ask if he had been inspired by the various Council chambers in the Temple, or if the circular structure really lent itself so well to the harmonious flow of the Force among beings that any Jedi of sufficient strength would come upon it independently.

Renata took the shallow steps down to the meditation ring and stood by her favorite tuffet while Raina sealed the soundproof door. Gesturing her Padawan to sit, Raina took a nearby tuffet and closed her eyes. Empty Meditation got her a long way toward calm, but true peace eluded her. When she gave it up as a bad job and opened her eyes, she saw Renata wearing an attentively blank look, though her postured betrayed her; she leaned forward as if she meant to spring off her tuffet and leap into action then and there.

"Body language, Renata," Raina said.

"Huh? Oh!" She sat up straight, tugged her tunic back into place, and rested her palms on her knees. "Right."

Raina let Renata still herself, counted the seconds as she inhaled to pace her breathing, then said, "We're not going to Allanteen."

Renata slumped a little, realized what she had done, then straightened up again, all in the space of a few seconds. "Right. Okay.  So is Lord Brascel not coming, or…?"

Raina shook her head. "I don't know what the Tapani Jedi will do, but we answer to the High Council, not Lord Brascel. The Council commanded us to stay here; we are not going."

"Oh. Oh." It took her longer to work through that. "But what if it really is the will of the Force to go, like Tirien—Jedi Kal-Di said?"

"We don't get to decide that. The masters of the High Council aren't chosen by lot or popular vote; the Council seeks the will of the Force in naming its members.  They're the greatest Jedi Masters of our age; we have to trust their guidance."

Even as she spoke, Raina heard the unbearable naïveté of her own words. Chance and the whims of public opinion played no role in the Council Masters' selection, it was true—they were merely chosen by secret vote, elected to the body by its existing members, the majority of them serving a decade or more. As to the Force selecting one Council member through the vessel of the others, Raina retained her faith that it played some part in the decision-making process, but she knew the Council Masters well enough to see the political savvy behind some decisions.

Renata seemed to miss that inconvenient political reality, but far from comforting Raina, it only distressed her all the more. Renata was still a girl, but she was also a Jedi Padawan, and she had to be aware of the subtleties of life if she was to avoid being led astray. But Raina would disserve her by inculcating suspicion of the Council. How, then, to balance the demands of being master to a young Jedi who trusted her?

For a moment she envied Tirien and Narasi; whatever their faults, individually and collectively, the Force bound them together so tightly they seemed to work even better than Mali and Aldayr. Tirien never seemed to hesitate over Narasi…but was that just as dangerous as it was useful? With a master as sure of himself as Tirien, when Narasi would follow him to Tatooine looking for water, it was just as sure a recipe for catastrophe and fall as for effective teamwork.

Renata did not interrupt her reflections, but Raina forced herself to focus. "Perhaps we can help them prepare."

"What can we do?" Renata fretted. "If it's just Jedi…Tirien, Yan, and Narasi—and maybe Zaella and Jirdo—will that be enough?"

Raina swallowed the lump rising in her throat. "And Raven. He's going too."

"But…" Renata blinked. "But you said—"

"I know what I said; I said it to him, too. But…"  Raina put her feet on the floor so she could lean forward, resting her forearms on her knees. "Renata, you're going to find that sometimes Jedi, even Jedi who mean well, can disagree."

"So how do you know when you're right?"

"I trust the Council's wisdom."

"Doesn't Raven?"

Raina felt the knife twist. "I…can't give you all the answers, Renata. I hope you've known that all along, but if not, learn it now.  Beware the Jedi who believes she knows everything."

Renata nodded, but though she wore on her face the anxiety Raina kept inside, Raina did not have the heart to correct her. "Ask my brother whatever you'd like. Perhaps…well, perhaps he can help you see his perspective, if I can't do it justice."

She had been about to say Perhaps you can reach him when I can't, but a far worse calamity than this would have to befall Raina Kaivalt to distract her enough to lay that on her Padawan's conscience.

After a moment of thought, Renata asked, "What will the Tapani Jedi do?"

Raina knew what her uncle would say, and what Gaebrean wanted to do, but neither of them would have the final word. "We'll have to wait and see."