A Flow'r, Once Fallen/Part 3

Tirien sat in one of the comfortable armchairs in his suite on the third floor of the palace. Much of the floor was tiled in an exotic green hardwood Tirien had never seen before, inlaid with various designs, but there was a rug in the little parlor where he sat reading. Darkness had fallen on Aldera outside, but Tirien had left a window open for the evening breeze.

He glanced up, sensing Narasi outside the door. He raised a hand…then lowered it again, thinking. After a moment, he fixed his mind on hers, strengthening their normal connection until he got the tenor of her thoughts. Then he thought in her direction, slowly and deliberately, Come in, Narasi.

The door opened and she stepped inside, and Tirien was pleased to see that, like him, she was still wearing her Jedi garb even though the palace staff had hung some clothes of his size in his closet. She waved as she walked toward him; she still had the rose on her ear. "Hey Master."

"Did you hear me?" he asked with interest, tapping his temple.

She stopped. "Yeah."

"Did you just get the sense that you could come in, or actual words?"

"Words." She cocked her head. "You said 'Come in, Narasi', right?"

He nodded, pleased, and Narasi looked intrigued. "Is that something everybody can do eventually, or is it just because we're master and apprentice?"

"It's definitely not something everybody can do, barring natural telepaths like Iktotchi," Tirien clarified. "Our relationship helps, I'm sure—we know each other's mind better than anyone else—but even then it's not something all Jedi can do. I'll have to ask Mali."

"I can ask Aldayr," she said quickly. Tirien raised an eyebrow at her obvious interest, and she plowed ahead in a rush. "Can I try?"

"Sure."

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath through her nose, then opened them again, staring hard at him. Tirien returned her gaze, waiting. He got a definite sense of greeting and acknowledgment, but it did not refine itself into words. When he told her so, she sighed.

"I was going for 'Hi, Master'. I didn't think two words would be that hard…"

"Don't be too hard on yourself, it's difficult. A general sense is one thing, but specific, word-for-word telepathy takes a lot of practice."

She nodded, slumping onto the settee opposite Tirien with her boots hanging off one end. "Whatcha reading?"

"A Contemporary History of Alderaanian Political Thought, Volume 3."

Narasi groaned and buried her face in the settee's pillow. "Riveting," she said when she resurfaced. "I knew we were in trouble when they said we could use the library…"

Tirien snorted. "I'm sure I can find something for you to read too, but no, I brought a few pieces of reading from the Archives."

Narasi propped herself up on her elbows, looking over at Tirien's pack, and her eyes widened. "Master, where'd you get that holocron?"

"From the Archives as well."

"You…did you steal it?!"

Tirien rolled his eyes. "Yes, Narasi, I robbed the Jedi Archives to begin a whirlwind crime spree. I thought I could start on Alderaan, since they have no weapons.  Are you in?  We can knock over a bank and split the proceeds sixty-forty."

"I just meant…wait, why sixty-forty?"

Tirien gave her a look. "Of course I didn't steal it! Master Robulg allowed me to borrow it."

"That's what I meant! I didn't think holocrons could be borrowed outside the Archives."

"Normally that's true. Master Robulg made an exception for me, since we don't always know when we'll be able to get back to Coruscant to learn."

Narasi sat up, looking curious. "To learn?"

"Of course. Learning is a lifelong process for a Jedi; we stop learning only when we stop living."

"I guess…" She kicked off her boots and crossed her legs under her. "I guess I always thought that for Knights and Masters it wasn't so much learning new stuff as getting better at the other stuff. If I can lift a rock, you can lift a boulder, and Master Tem-Fol-Rytil can lift the Muntuur stones—something like that.  And Master Jonfalepp always told my Clan Force powers aren't a bunch of magic spells, but a whole web of interconnected applications of the one Force."

"Master Hwuk-Maji used to say the same thing when I was an Initiate," Tirien allowed with a faint smile. "And you're not wrong, although some applications require different approaches—we approach mind tricks and telekinesis different ways—and so we speak of them as 'skills' for ease of discussion. We should deepen our existing skills; by the time you become a Knight, you should possess sufficient strength in all of what we might call the basic Jedi skills.  But there are some skills the Order doesn't teach to those who aren't Knights, and some reserved for Masters."

"And some we can't use at all?" When Tirien nodded, Narasi asked, "Why, though? If it's all one Force, why is the power the wrong thing?  I mean, I use my lightsaber as a Jedi, and if a Sith took it she'd use it as a Sith, but it's not the lightsaber's decision."

Tirien set his databook aside to give her his undivided attention. "Be careful of that kind of thinking—it's ensnared Jedi before. There are some powers that are inherently dark, regardless of intent, and using them is stepping onto the dark path no matter how pure your motives are.  And when you take the first step—"

"—every step after it gets easier," she finished. "I know that. But I still don't get it."

Tirien thought for a moment. "Take Force lightning. You might think you could use it for a good purpose—to stop a Sith, for example, or a fleeing criminal.  But its very nature is to harm, to sap life energy and torture its victim.  You've never been on the receiving end of it, have you?" When Narasi shook her head, Tirien grimaced. "I have. Take it from me, it's horrible; it's the worst physical pain I've ever felt.  There are ways to stop evildoers without intentionally inflicting unparalleled suffering."

Narasi considered it for a moment, then asked curiously, "Who used Force lightning on you?"

"Lord Zygro. Right after he killed Suwo."

Narasi winced and said nothing more. Before Tirien could find the words to placate her disconcert, there was a knock on the door. "Get that, would you? I didn't say get up," he added as she uncrossed her legs. "Just get the door."

Narasi frowned until she understood the challenge, then pointed at the door. It was designed to be triggered by body heat rather than mere pressure, so she had to work the mechanism rather than simply prodding it with telekinesis. It took a moment, during which a second knock came, but eventually she got it right and the door slid open. A servant wearing a simple uniform in the gray and blue-gray of House Organa stepped inside and bowed. "Good evening, Masters Jedi. King Rosulus has asked me to escort you to dinner.  If you'll follow me?"

Tirien sealed the holocron back among his things while Narasi put her boots on, and they followed their guide. The palace made no secret of its comfort and majesty, but the corridors were less soaring than those of the Jedi Temple, and the architecture was smooth curves and gently gliding paths instead of columns with complex capitals and engraved entablatures. Artwork hung on every corridor, and Tirien lost Narasi for a few seconds when she stopped in front of a piece.

"Is this…grass?"

Their guide stopped too. "It's a moss painting. It's fed with purified water to keep the moss growing properly."

Tirien studied it for a moment, holding a hand just over the painting's surface; he could feel the faint whisper of insentient life energy. Narasi looked intrigued. "Like the Sluissi flame sculptures."

"I'm not sure I would have thought of that," Tirien said, impressed. "But you're right, of course; it's the use of an atypical medium to achieve an artistic effect. Well said."

Narasi looked pleased with herself all the way down to the dining room, which had floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Aldera's lake; the waves glistened in the moonlight. Four beings sat at the table: King Rosulus at the head, a woman Tirien took for his wife at his side, Princess Elyria next, and a blonde woman who greatly resembled King Rosulus and had to be his sister, Princess Manae. The king gestured to the seats on his other side; Tirien seated himself at the king's right hand, Narasi beside him.

"Tirien, this is my wife, Vamiri, and my sister Manae," he said, confirming Tirien's guesses. "Of course you know Elyria."

Elyria grinned and touched the rose still snugged through her braid; Narasi tapped her own rose and smiled back.

"I'm Tirien Kal-Di, and this is my Padawan, Narasi Rican."

"You're both very welcome here," said Vamiri.

"Thanks, Queen Vamiri," Narasi said.

Vamiri smiled. "'Princess', actually—Princess Consort. 'Queen' is only for the reigning monarch."

"I'm gonna be queen!" Elyria declared.

"Only if you work hard in your studies," her father cautioned her. "A good queen has to be wise."

"Yeah, I know," Elyria said. She looked at Narasi. "So when you grow up, you're gonna be a Jedi Knight?"

"That's right!" Narasi said.

"Only if you work hard in your studies," Tirien said, and Narasi gave him a dry look as the Organas laughed.

Human servants brought their dinner. As they ate, Narasi said, "The palace is beautiful. I love the view of the lake."

"We're very blessed here," Vamiri agreed. "And we work hard to remember just how fortunate we are, especially in times of war."

Tirien felt eyes on him, and he caught Princess Manae's gaze for a moment before she looked down at her plate. She had yet to speak, and Tirien could feel her grief. She shared Prince Taylo's blond hair and dark eyes.

"Have you both seen much of the galaxy?" Vamiri asked.

"We get around," Tirien answered.

"Nowhere as nice as Alderaan, though," Narasi added.

"You're both warriors, then?" Princess Manae asked.

Tirien set his wine glass down slowly. "At need, yes. It's not the purpose of the Order, but we can't stand aside and allow the dark side to overrun the galaxy."

She said nothing more, and Elyria seized the chance to regale Narasi with a cascade of information about the day's lessons. The king drew Tirien into a discussion about the new Chancellor and likely Senate staff appointments, and though Tirien spoke well of Chancellor Thini when the opportunity presented itself, he tried to listen more than he spoke; he did not want to address appointments with partial knowledge, and he was interested in gauging the king's perspective.

He only tuned back into Narasi's conversation with Elyria when he felt tremors in multiple minds at once, all from different emotions. Reaching for the last few seconds of memory in the Force, he realized Elyria had asked Narasi about riding thrantas.

"—a little nervous," Narasi was saying as Tirien snapped back to the present. "I've never ridden one before."

"It's fun," Elyria said as she speared a little dumpling on her plate. "My cousin Taylo used to take me flying."

She did not seem to think anything of this remark, but Tirien felt her family's tension. Vamiri said softly, "Cut that in half, Elyria."

"Okay," she said, grabbing her knife and sawing the dumpling. "Did you ever meet my cousin Taylo, Narasi?"

"I…actually did, yeah," Narasi said.

"Really? Where?"

"At a dance."

"Did he dance with you?!" Elyria asked, her dumpling forgotten in her excitement; her flatware clattered to the plate. "He taught me how to dance!"

"I did…just for a moment." Sadness was breaking through Narasi's Jedi control, and Tirien saw Princess Manae had set down her fork as well and was watching Narasi, who gestured to Tirien. "Tirien taught me to dance."

Elyria's intense, dark eyes found him. "Are you a good dancer? Will you dance with me?"

Tirien glanced at the king, but Rosulus was watching his sister. "If you'd like, Your Highness. I'm not bad, although I'm not as good as your cousin was."

"Few people are," Princess Manae said.

Elyria was oblivious to the mounting unease. "He died," she told Narasi through a mouthful of dumpling. "Taylo. It made me really sad."

Narasi's jaw twitched as she worked to control herself, but there was still a catch in her voice as she said, "It made me sad too, Your Highness."

"Did you ever have anybody die?"

"Elyria, that's enough," Rosulus said.

"I'm just asking!"

"She's trying to understand," Vamiri answered; her voice was low enough that her daughter would not hear, but Tirien amplified his hearing to catch it, and Narasi's ears caught it for her without the boost.

"Yeah," she said.

Elyria looked at Tirien, who nodded. "Yes."

"Was it someone in your family? Taylo was my cousin."

Narasi hesitated, and Tirien laid a hand on her shoulder. "We're Jedi, Princess. Other Jedi are like family to us—Narasi is as much my family as your mother and father and aunt are to you.  So yes, we've had family die."

"Were you sad?"

"Very sad," Narasi said. "I still am, sometimes."

"Mom and Dad say it's okay to feel sad," Elyria told them, picking up her cup and drinking with both hands. "Mom said feeling sad now helps me feel better later."

"The Jedi are kinda like that," Narasi said; she was winding noodles tighter and tighter around her fork, apparently unconscious of the movement. "We understand how we feel, then we let it go."

"How nice that must be," said Princess Manae, and now Tirien heard the bite in her tone that masked her pain in the Force.

"Elyria, why don't you ask Narasi about being a Jedi?" Vamiri suggested.

"Hmmm…oh, hey, do you have a laser sword?!"

"We call them lightsabers, Your Highness."

"'Lightsaber'," she tried the word out. "Can I see it?"

Narasi looked at Tirien. "Well…"

"No," Tirien said firmly. Elyria looked surprised at getting such an unequivocal negative, and Tirien adopted a more soothing tone as he said, "A lightsaber is a tool and a part of being a Jedi, but it can also be a weapon, and it's very dangerous, not a toy."

Elyria's eyes widened, and she whispered loudly, "You're not supposed to have weapons on Alderaan!"

"It's all right, Elyria," Rosulus said. "They're Jedi. Jedi are special."

Elyria looked at them doubtfully. "How come?"

"Because the Jedi protect us. They protect the whole Republic."

Princess Manae gave one mirthless exhalation through her nose, too quiet to be a snort, too bitter to be a laugh. Tirien sensed at once that Narasi had noticed, but Elyria missed it. "Maybe I could be a Jedi!"

"I think you'd be better being a queen," Narasi said.

"Can't I be both?"

"Well, Jedi aren't allowed to have gardens," Narasi faux-sighed. "If you become queen, you can keep your garden."

"Oooo, yeah, I want my garden," Elyria nodded.

Narasi winked. "But you can have friends who are Jedi, like me."

"Hmm. Okay!  That works."

They finished dinner with small talk, then Elyria's minder droid came to take her upstairs and, despite her insistence that Narasi accompany her to play, both Jedi followed the king into a comfortable sitting room. His wife took a seat on the sofa beside him, but Princess Manae found a chair for herself. A droid poured brandy for them all—Princess Vamiri declined, and Narasi hesitated, but Tirien gave her an encouraging nod and thought Safe here—then closed the doors on its way out.

"Thank you for your kindness to our daughter, Narasi," Vamiri said. "She's quite taken with you."

"I like kids," Narasi said. "And she seems like a great girl. Very confident."

The Organas chuckled while Tirien noted again that his apprentice really did have a way with children. Princess Manae, meanwhile, took a draught of her brandy, then set the snifter down. "Master Jedi, I'm sorry to darken the mood of pleasant conversation, but I need to ask: you were present when my son died?"

King Rosulus's smile faded, but he seemed to have expected the question sooner or later. Tirien said, "I was in Anaxes Citadel at the same time, but I wasn't with him."

"And you, Narasi?"

"I was with him right before he got sick," she said; her complexion paled, but she kept her voice steady. "But not when he died. I was fighting the Dark Vanguard."

Manae looked between the two of them. She was as fair as her brother was handsome, but grief strained her beauty in a heartbreaking way. "How did he die?"

Tirien said, "He was poisoned by Darth Alecto, along with Chancellor Phnyong and several others."

"Was…was it painful?"

Rosulus sighed. "Manae…"

"If it was Elyria, wouldn't you want to know?" she demanded. "Would you be content with the scraps the Republic's given us? Wouldn't you want to know everything anyone could tell you?"

Rosulus did not answer, leaning on the forearms he had laid on his knees, and Vamiri rubbed his back with one hand. Manae nodded, then looked back at Tirien. "Well?"

Tirien forced himself to meet her gaze. "Painful, but quick. Sweating and disorientation for a few minutes, but the actual pain was only a minute or two.  It was designed to be efficient, not torturous."

"Designed?"

"The poison was made by a Sith Lord named Kai Latra," Tirien explained.

"And Darth Alecto? She was there at the ball?  How did she get away?"

Tirien foresaw the danger involved in the truth, but he had a suspicion she would see through a falsehood, and it was perilous to lie without knowing how much the other party knew. "I attempted to apprehend her, but she poisoned me as well."

"And how did you survive?" she asked, confirming Tirien's fear.

"She gave me the cure."

Manae blinked. "She…why?" She apparently realized how sharply it had come out, because she raised a hand to forestall him and took a deep breath. "Don't mistake me, I'm not so lost in grief that I wish you ill for having survived—I'm glad someone survived this horror. But I don't understand."

Tirien wished he did. Was this another shred of evidence pointing to some hint of mercy in Alecto—something, perhaps, worth redeeming—or was he straining ever further in his casuistic quest to prove a hypothesis? "Nor do I. I wish I did.  To make me suffer the knowledge of my failure to protect the Chancellor, perhaps?  Or to suffer having outlived Narasi, if she'd been poisoned too?  Some random quirk of mood?  I wish I could tell you, Your Highness, more than you know.  But I can't."

Committed as he was to telling the truth, he was not quite such a devotee of transparency as to throw Narasi under the mag-lev. He could tell she had been concerned, because some of her tension in the Force dissipated.

"Was…was he happy, before?" Manae asked, and Tirien could see her eyes glistening. "Before this poison took effect, was he at least happy…?"

"He was," Narasi said quietly. "He was dancing with me. We stopped because I sensed something was wrong, and he said he didn't feel well, but…but the Vanguardian was about to attack the Chancellor and…and I left him…"

Even without admitting that she had chosen to save Tirien instead of Taylo, she evidently had guilt to spare. While Tirien made a mental note to help her work through that, Rosulus picked his head up and shook it. "No one blames you for that, Narasi."

"Not at all," Manae agreed, and though she wiped her eyes, her voice had steadied. "You did your duty."

"And we'll keep doing it," Narasi promised; her voice was steadier too, but not in a way Tirien liked. "We'll kill Alecto if we can."

"We'll catch Alecto if we can," Tirien corrected. "We'll kill her if we have to."

He could sense Narasi's exasperation as she sighed, but Vamiri nodded. "Your master's right, Narasi. Killing is an unfortunate necessity that centuries of war have made commonplace, but we aren't looking for revenge, only justice.  And they aren't the same thing."

"A good summary of Jedi philosophy," Tirien remarked. "We're soldiers because that's the only way to stop the Sith, but we're meant to be the guardians of peace and justice. There simply can't be peace as long as the Sith exist."

"But peace is more than merely the absence of war," Rosulus said. "Alderaanians believe that peace must begin with the self before it can spread to others."

"As do the Jedi."

"And yet the Jedi are only a fraction of a fraction of a percent of the Republic's forces," Manae said. "Are all the forces of the Republic the exemplars of peace? All the Republic worlds and leaders?"

"The Jedi lead the Republic," Tirien answered. He looked at Rosulus as he added, "Sometimes what can't be compelled can be accomplished through leadership by example."

"You're determined, Tirien," Rosulus answered with a smile. "And not unpersuasive, I confess. But I have much to consider.  I hope you'll be so kind as to excuse us now; do you need an escort back to your rooms?"

"No, thank you," Tirien said, rising. "Good evening."

Tirien gave Narasi instructions for morning training on the way, bade her good night outside her suite, and closed his own door. He spent another hour or so perusing A Contemporary History of Alderaanian Political Thought, but finally set the databook aside and dug into his pack, retrieving the holocron. A cube barely the size of his hand, it was comfortable to hold as he reached into it with the Force to trigger it. A small hologram of a Human in Jedi robes appeared.

"Greetings, friend," the simulacrum said. "I am Master Giffis Fane. Who are you?"

"Tirien Kal-Di," Tirien answered. "Jedi Knight."

"I calculate that some time has passed since this holocron was accessed last, Tirien. What year is it?"

Tirien did the math in his head. "The six hundred and fourteenth year since the onset of the wars—the New Sith Wars. For you, two thousand two hundred and sixty-seven years after the Treaty of Coruscant."

Master Fane's hologram smiled. "You do me a courtesy with the reference, but this holocron has been accessed during…you call them 'the New Sith Wars' now? Alas, I'm all too aware of your plight, and sorry to hear it continues."

"The continuation of the war is why I need your guidance. I'm told you were a great Jedi Master during your time."

"Then as now, if greatness comes from success in battle, it is no credit to the Jedi," Fane lamented. "But if you mean that I experienced success in battle, yes, I did."

"And sat as a member of the High Council?"

"I was entrusted with that duty and honor, yes." Fane studied him. "I suspect, though, that you didn't access this holocron for a history lesson."

"I did not," Tirien admitted. "I've recently experienced powers of the dark side—powers I had never before encountered except in databooks, and for which I wasn't prepared. I want to expand my knowledge of the Force—to arm myself with the weapons of the light to counter the dark."

"A worthy pursuit, and a necessary one in war with the Sith." The simulacrum measured him with its gaze, and Tirien felt the lattice in the crystalline structure of the holocron resonating, interacting with and analyzing him. He took a deep, slow breath, counting the seconds of inhalation and exhalation as he cleared his mind for Jedi tranquility.

He knew when the holocron's analysis was done, because Master Fane crossed his arms and cocked his head thoughtfully. "The Force is very strong with you, Tirien; I suspect you have survived many tests and trials that would have killed lesser Knights. But I can not simply present you all the Force powers I know for your perusal; this holocron is not an arsenal, and even the noblest of Knights, offered all the power of the Force at once, may overlook the duty to shepherd and employ that power rightly."

"I understand, Master. Where shall we begin?"

"Sometimes a simple use of the Force can be most beneficial, especially against the unprepared. And it is fitting for Jedi to make a weapon of the light—sometimes quite literally.  Let us begin."