Desperate Measures/Part 16

Tirien watched Narasi go. "Thank you for going easy on her."

"Well, I had to, or I'd have wasted energy on her that I'd need for you." When Tirien raised an eyebrow, Mali glowered at him. "This is the most recklessly stupid thing you've ever done. I know that's not saying a lot, because recklessly stupid isn't really your MO, but Five Brothers and their moons too, Tirien…"

"I know," Tirien said, raising his hands in surrender. "I was trying to help, but I admit it was prideful and shortsighted."

"Not to mention not exactly helpful."

"Well, you did say my beacon led you to Vjun," Tirien commented. In a casual voice, he suggested, "Maybe, in the end, it was the will of the Force that—"

"Oh, don't get all mystical Consular, this all served a higher purpose in the end on me, Kal-Di," Mali said, though the corners of his mouth were twitching. "Every Guardian knows 'it turned out to be the will of the Force' is code for 'I screwed up royally but it worked out anyway'."

Tirien tried to control a smirk. "I suppose not every Jedi can perceive the larger web of the Unifying Force woven out of our individual threads."

"You know, that'd be so much more convincing if you'd had the Force when you launched this crusade…"

They stared each other down until Mali laughed and Tirien chuckled once. Mali said, "Well, however we got here, it's good to have you back, brother."

"It's good to be back," Tirien replied. He harbored no illusions about his mixed motives in going off to rescue Narasi and Aldayr in the first place, but in being restored to the Force, he felt a fundamental sense of rightness. "It's good to…remember what it is to be a Jedi. I'm sorry for what I was like when—"

"Forget it, brother. You're back now; that's all that matters." He cocked his head to the side. "Gotta ask, though: what were you doing in Hutt Space?"

Tirien remembered the debt he owed Sorin Ruy'the and grimaced. "Ah…about that…I'm going to need a favor from you…"

He told the story, though he omitted Alecto from it, weaving the tale as if Sorin had merely gotten him a lead on Kai Latra. He had not told anyone of Alecto's role in his quest, not even Narasi; he didn't know what they would think of it or him, but he was sure it wouldn't end well. Mali listened without interruption, but sighed when Tirien was done. "That's a big favor, brother."

"I know, and I'm sorry to ask it, but anything else I could trade would've put more people in danger."

Mali grumbled, but said, "I have some contacts in CorSec…guy I got out of a tight spot once…all right, seven it is, but you owe me one."

"After all of this, I think it's more than one."

After a moment Mali's smile morphed to an introspective look. "Speaking of Corellia, you see the Chancellor election?"

"I did. 'Chancellor Thini'…it will take some getting used to."

"Yeah. Master Thini's a great Jedi, don't get me wrong.  It's just…"

"Not whom you would have chosen?"

Mali took a moment to reply. "Not who Corellia would have preferred, that's for sure."

"Did you and Corellia have different preferences?"

"Hey, I was just the messenger there," Mali said, raising his hands. "What about you?"

Tirien organized his thoughts for a moment as well; trying to reorient his brain to Republic politics less than a full rotation after he had been breaking into a Sith fortress with Darth Alecto was a little jarring. "Master Thini—Chancellor Thini—and Chancellor Phynong were always close, and Chancellor Thini's been the Council's liaison to the Senate, so he knows the key power players. With some systems shakier after Anaxes, maybe the Senate thought that sort of diplomatic, unifying personality is what we need."

"You mean the Council thought so."

Tirien sighed. "Yes, that's what I meant."

"And you? You never answered—"

"Master Cazars," Tirien said quietly. "I would have picked her, and I told Master Tem-Fol-Rytil so."

Surprise touched Mali's features before he looked around and adopted a covert expression. "Don't tell Corellia—I certainly didn't tell the Council—but that was my feeling too. Wartime demands a wartime Chancellor.  On the upside, free seat on the Council now.  Maybe we'll finally get another Guardian in there…"

Tirien groaned. "Don't start that again, unless you're volunteering."

Mali laughed. "Not if you paid me. No, it's back to the battles for me.  Probably for all of us, the way the Sith are ramping up."

"I expect so." Tirien took Mali's lightsaber from his belt, touched it to his forehead in salute, and offered it to Mali. "You'll be at your best with your own blade."

"And I suppose you'll be an even better duelist with this weird thing," Mali replied, taking Tirien's curved lightsaber hilt and returning the salute. "I hope this doesn't mean I can't give you advice anymore."

"We'll be having words if you stop," Tirien answered as they exchanged weapons; his curved-hilt saber still felt natural in his hand. "Besides, look at Vjun—you've made me more improvisational already."

"Okay, that may have been overcorrection…"

They shared another laugh and clasped forearms. "May the Force be with you, Mali."

"And also with you, brother, until we meet again."

He strode off and Tirien reached into the Force, relishing the ability to do so. Being here, in the Jedi Temple, and feeling the fountain of light that poured out from it was cleansing, like washing the taint of the Sith away. He could feel Narasi in a moment of deep thought and left her to it, walking the halls of the Temple instead for a bit of moving meditation. The Force steered him to a meditation chamber where he found Slejux Nissatak sitting cross-legged. Tirien sat opposite him, thinking to share in the meditative tranquility of the room, but while the Melitto had no eyes to open, Tirien could sense Slejux refocusing on the here and now.

"I didn't mean to disturb you, friend."

"Not at all," Slejux said. "I wanted the chance to speak with you, without Narasi."

Tirien frowned. "I hope the Council wasn't too hard on you. They certainly had enough left for Narasi and me…"

Slejux's vocoder produced his buzzing chuckle. "No. No, the Council merely asked whether it was my expectation that Narasi would immediately return to you as your Padawan, and I told them I thought any other course would be harmful to the Republic.  You two serve best together."

Tirien smiled wryly. "I'm sorry for the headaches she's caused you."

"On the contrary. They say that a master and apprentice should learn from one another, and Narasi has shown me something very valuable.  Before all this, when we all served aboard the Crescentia together, I observed the bond between you and Narasi.  I began to consider taking a Padawan of my own."

"And now you've decided to?"

"Now I've decided not to. Not yet."

"Slejux, I know Narasi isn't always the easiest Padawan, but not every Padawan is Narasi…"

"More's the pity, for she'll be a phenomenal Knight someday. No, Narasi may be willful, but that's not the point.  Candidly Tirien, I don't know how you bear the responsibility, day in and day out, for years on end.  The burden of her future Knighthood, her service to the Republic or her failure and fall."

Slejux was not a man given to rash decisions, and so Tirien took the time to ensure he considered his reply with equal care. "I'm conscious of the burden I bear, and I treat it with the gravity it deserves. But I didn't think I was ready when Narasi became my Padawan; I didn't want a Padawan, but the Council ordering me to take her was the greatest gift they could have given me."

"I understand why that would be so for you, but I am not you. What, in time, emerges as the will of the Force for one may not be so for another."

"You have the capacity to be a great master, Slejux. I would never have asked you to be Narasi's master if I didn't believe that—believe I could trust you to bear that burden when I couldn't."

Slejux bowed his head. "You honor me with your trust, my friend. And perhaps the day will come, it simply isn't today."

"Well, I look forward to the day, because the entire Order will be enriched when it comes."

Slejux, like Tirien, generally had solid armor around his thoughts, but he relaxed his defense to allow Tirien to sense his wordless gratitude. Tirien nodded and rose, leaving his friend to his meditative contemplations.

Sleep clamored for Tirien's attention, but he followed the Force to where Narasi sat cross-legged on a marble balustrade, looking at the floor below. She turned at his approach, but Tirien raised a hand to still her and hopped up instead, sitting at her side. The Coruscant sunlight was fading through the towering windows, and they watched dusk settle on the hall until the interior lights rose to life, comfortable in the silence of each other's company.

Narasi nodded forward, eyes closed, then jerked upward sharply. Tirien chuckled, stabilizing her with a hand on her shoulder. "You need rest, Narasi."

"Yeah…"

Reconnected with her in the Force, Tirien felt the turmoil in her mind. "You've been through a lot, Narasi, and it'll take time to achieve real peace with it. But you'll be beating your brain against the Force if you try to meditate like this."

She nodded. "Yeah. I…I want to talk about it, I just need some time."

"Take all the time you need—you've earned it." Tirien shifted one leg up onto the balustrade to face her. "I don't know everything you experienced in Kai Latra's castle yet, but I know what I saw there. Only a great Jedi could have come through a place like that, and only someone with true Jedi spirit could have redeemed Olik."

"Did it make a difference?" Narasi asked. "He still died."

"He did, but he died a Jedi. Take it from me, whether or not it made a difference in our escape, it made all the difference in the world to him."

Narasi seemed to take comfort from that, but she said, "I'm glad you didn't have to die to be a Jedi again."

"Me too. But you helped me see the way back too.  Thank you, Narasi."

"Me?"

Tirien smiled. "Sleep first; we'll talk about it tomorrow. And after that…"

"Back to the battles? No long rest for the hardworking Jedi?"

"Not until our duty is done."

Only one thing brought an end to a Jedi's duty, and Tirien could tell Narasi understood by the gravity that touched her eyes. But she smiled after a moment. "Fair enough. But not yet."

"Not yet," he agreed. He returned her smile, but hers became a little too content in return, her eyes half-closed, and he nudged her arm. "Go sleep."

"Yehhh Mah-hahhh…" she said around a yawn. She hopped to her feet, bowed, and staggered off in the direction of the dormitories. Tirien envied her; his desire for a shower and a long sleep was approaching desperation. But he had another visit to make before he allowed exhaustion to overwhelm him.

Tap. Tap. Tap. A group of Padawans were working through parries and lunges, each movement on the cadence of cane taps, forced to hold each position until the next tap fell. Their thighs trembled and their faces beaded with sweat, but every dipped arm or relaxed stance was a whack with the cane, and Tirien remembered just how sufficient that motivation could be. He did not interrupt, standing at the door wearing his soiled, tattered civilian clothing, an empty blaster holster, and his own lightsaber until the class ended.

Rap. One final, sharper fall of the cane, and the class relaxed, groaning. "Less of that, thank you," Master Honsu Toldin said in a calm voice. "Curato salva should smooth away any aches if you've been practicing. Good day to you."

The Padawans filed out, one or two of them greeting Tirien as they passed. When they had gone, he strode in, noticing a wooden training stick left on the floor. He raised a hand as he outlined the stick in the Force, but thought better of it and knelt to take up the stick by hand. He placed it back in position on the rack, then bowed to Master Toldin. "Master."

Master Toldin brushed his long white beard with one hand. "Tirien. I'm pleased to see you alive and well—more or less."

"It's worse than it looks," Tirien assured him, tugging at a frayed cuff of his shirt. "But your teachings helped ensure the alive. You were right—the instincts were still there."

"I'm glad to hear it, though I confess myself unsurprised. You were always a talented student, Tirien, and you've grown into a skillful Jedi Knight."

The old, bald Jedi stood there in his floor-length robes, handed clasped over his stomach, one bushy eyebrow arched, the picture of tranquil curiosity. Sighing, Tirien said, "I'm sorry, Master—sorry for my behavior, and my doubt."

A confession of his feelings of powerlessness and abandonment during the long weeks without the Force was on his tongue, but he sealed his lips to keep it inside. It was nothing he hadn't vented to Master Toldin before, and it was no excuse regardless. There was no emotion, there was peace. The old Jedi watched him process his feelings and master them, then smiled.

"I forgive you, my boy," Toldin said, laying a thin-fingered old hand on Tirien's arm. "Life is a series of opportunities to learn, for those with the wit to see them. And witlessness has never been your flaw, Tirien, so I have hopes for you yet."

"I'll try to merit your faith, Master." Tirien tried a smile in return. "I get the sense the Council won't keep us here long, and I need to rest before I fall down…but if we stay for a few days, I'd be grateful for more lessons, Master. I promise to be more receptive this time."

"I look forward to our next training session, then."

Master Toldin bowed; returning his bow Tirien turned to go. He made three plodding steps to the door when his instincts cried out to him and he reacted without thinking. The Force pulled a training stick off the rack and into his sword hand, and he whirled in time to parry Toldin's lunge at his back with the cane.

Crack crack crack crack crack. Attack, riposte, disengage and counter-riposte, remise, reprise. Five exchanges in the space of two seconds, and then they stood en garde against one another, stick touching cane, too tentative to be a blade lock, each on a hair trigger for the slightest change in pressure that would signal the next flurry.

Then Master Toldin nodded, withdrew his cane, and set it against the floor. "Just checking. May the Force be with you, Tirien.  Always."