Revenge of the Jedi/Part 31

"Have you made any progress with Amaani?" Kaelora asked.

Raina stared at her cousin's holo. "How can I possibly reach Amaani when my own brother won't listen to me?"

Kaelora blew out a breath. "I don't know…"

There are at least three people on this island that he's closer to than me, Raina wanted to say. His father, his best friend, and your brother—and all of them are going too.

But she could not. Though the holo from Raina's imagecaster to Sir Vinton's modest apartments in Pelagar was encrypted, it was not Inimă Eserzennae's better-shielded one, and neither Raina nor Kaelora opposed the mission so much that they would imperil their brothers or the rest of the strike team in case the transmission was sliced.

Kaelora shook her head. "Something will go wrong, I can feel it."

"Be mindful of your thoughts," Raina advised, but she heard her own hypocrisy; how many times had she dreaded the day when Raven would leave, knowing she might never see him again? "If we surrender to defeat before we fight—"

"—the dark side wins in our hearts and loss is preordained. I know."

Raina weighed the potential blowback of her next words, but she was both concerned over Kaelora's despondency and a little perturbed by her cousin seeking a solution outside herself, so in the end she said, "If you're that concerned—"

"You sound like Cesylee," Kaelora complained. "I'm not going. I would have thought you'd understand."

"My reasons aren't yours," Raina noted.

"Which makes them no more or less valid." Did she mean the threat to the sector from Gasald, Raina wondered, or the risks of Zaella's participation? If Kaelora would just swallow her pride and come back to the island to talk it out… "You should hear my father go on about it; he says something needs to be done, but he won't get into specifics when we ask."

Small surprise, that, Raina thought. Taking the matter to the Great Council would be a catastrophe. Assuming they did not agree with Lord Brascel in the first place, they might restrain him, but he would never trust the Kaivalts—either branch—again. The High Council might be able to stop Tirien, Raven, Yan, and Harshee, but disclosing the mission to outsiders would be even worse—Tapani did not outsource their conflicts to foreigners. In a way, Raina thought, the whole sector was to the Republic was the Freeworlds were to the sector—not exactly autonomous, but hardly interchangeable with everyone else, either.

"I think he blames Raven," Kaelora said.

It was not baseless, but Raina still narrowed her eyes. "Gaeb's a grown man, he makes his own choices."

"Cesylee told him that." Kaelora's expression suggested the conversation had not gone as Cesylee hoped from there. "But even setting that issue aside, the matter of the Twi'lek—"

"Kae," Raina warned her. Kaelora stopped herself, but she made a face, and Raina said, "If you want to speak freely, come back."

"I'm not going back there like some lovesick maiden in a holodrama to beg my beloved and my brother not to ride off to their doom," Kaelora snapped. "Amaani and Gaebrean have made their feelings quite clear."

"And when you speak to Amaani?"

Kaelora made an effort to keep her face rigid, but it failed after a moment, and she lowered her eyes. "We find other things to talk about."

"Keep in touch," Raina urged. "Contact and communication will do more than my meddling ever could."

She left unstated what they both knew—Kaelora had kept in contact with her fiancé, but not her brother. Gaeb, for his part, seemed utterly unbothered by it, though he had the strike team and his off-and-on Twi'lek lover to talk to, and of course Cesylee called him every other day or so. If Gaeb had even noticed his father's refusal to call, he had not remarked on it.

"I suppose I should do that now," Kaelora said.

"May the Force be with you, Kae."

"And also with you, darling."

No sooner had she deactivated the imagecaster than Raina realized she had to get out of the manor; conflicts were springing up on all sides, and she was clear-headed enough to see that her presence would only make matters worse. She could hear Yan and Harshee bickering all the way to the back door, though that faded when she saw Zaella toss her head so her longer lek lashed Gaeb across the face. Gaeb clutched his cheek as he pursued her, calling, "Will you bring into the physical realm the scourge you've applied to my heart?!"

The air of the nighttime woods, a mix of salt and tree bark, calmed her nerves for an instant, but a disturbance roiled the Force and shattered her fragile peace again. Sir Kobold stormed out of the woods; Raina felt the strength of his fury from fifty meters away, and when he met her eyes, she flinched. He stalked off around the manor rather than take the stairs to the deck; Raina had just started to wonder whether Raven had said or done something to set him off when Lord Wisté emerged from the forest.

Raina blinked, baffled. Unlike his former Padawan, Lord Wisté climbed the stairs to the deck; he was halfway to the door before he noticed her and started.

"Oh! Forgive me, Raina, I didn't see you there."

"Not at all, my lord." The easy courtesy came to her lips without thought, but that left her mind free to wonder… "My lord, is Sir Kobold all right?"

Lord Wisté ran a hand over his bald head. "Yes, I think so. He's just…very cross with me at the moment, I think."

"I…didn't know that happened, my lord."

Lord Wisté was not much older than Miklato, and younger than Lord Brascel, but he seemed to have aged a decade in the dim light, and his laugh was half a wheeze. "I suppose we do have that reputation, don't we? But I'm sure you've quarreled or disagreed with your father now and then behind closed doors, eh?"

Heresy, Raina thought. Swallowing, she said, "I…"

"I won't press you for details," he assured her, waving it off. "But even beings joined by the closest of bonds can disagree in matters of import."

"I know that too well, my lord."

Lord Wisté's dark eyes tightened. "Yes. Yes, I suppose you do, don't you?  What is your solution to that quandary, young Raina?"

"I…believe I've chosen rightly, my lord. I'd make the same choice again.  I try to remind myself of that when it…gets hard to remember."

Lord Wisté nodded to himself. "Yes, that's all we really can do, isn't it…?"

Raina hesitated to nose into a Tapani lord's private business, especially when he had spared her that in turn. But the strike team courted death by its existence alone; any fracture in the group's unity put her brother and cousin in greater danger. "If I may, my lord, what's bothering Sir Kobold? What choice…?"

She trailed off when he gave her the same sharp look Sir Kobold had—it was rather more forceful from point blank range—but it softened after a few seconds. "I suppose you'll hear of it soon anyway. I've…prevailed upon Kobold to remain with the strike team."

Raina frowned. "Who's going with Jedi Nefkin, then?"

"I suppose Kal-Di will be the one to address that, won't he?"

"But sending her to the reactor alone…"

"Yes, Kobold…Kobold shared that concern."

Raina shook her head. "Why, my lord?"

He made a face. "I need him with me when we meet Gasald."

It took Raina a moment to control her emotions, lest they leak into her voice. "My lord, Sir Kobold's a great Knight, but do you think he'll make or break the mission?"

"Or do I just want a bit more insulation to protect me?" Raina struggled not to wince—apparently she had not moderated her tone as well as she thought—but to her surprise, Lord Wisté showed her a rueful smile. "It's not about me, Raina. Oh, they'll all believe it is, I'm sure; they'll think I'm a coward, unwilling to face a Sith Lord without my personal army.  But no matter; I know the truth of it.  I would do anything, give anything, to protect House Pelagia and the Tapani sector.  If my life is the price to be paid, so be it.

"But…" Lord Wisté opened and closed his hands; Raina had never seen him betray himself so. "But I can't lose Amaani. He's the future of my family—of both our families, in a way—and he's my only son.  I must ensure he's protected, and Kobold and Amaani are the best of friends.  And of course, I don't wish to lose Kobold either.  They fight well as a team; they can protect one another."

"I…" Raina wanted to judge him for throwing the mission into disarray over attachment, but had she not done the same? She had told Raven that defying the High Council was wrong—she believed it to be wrong—and yet she had aided the strike team anyway. "I…understand, my lord."

He studied her a moment with another sad smile. "I believe you do, at that. Let us hope your brother and Kal-Di see matters similarly.  And now, I think I'll rest, if I can find sleep for once; arguing with loved ones is rather more exhausting than with anyone else."

"I understand that too, my lord. Good night."

Once he had gone inside, Raina gazed down on the courtyard below, where so much training had occurred—and so much blood been spilt. Leaning on the railing, deliberately not enhancing her hearing to find out who would crack next in the house behind her, Raina was left to wonder—not for the first time—whether, by trying to chart a middle course, she had instead unmoored herself from any principles at all. Deference to the will of the Jedi Council had kept her off Tirien's strike team, and yet, knowing that Republic Knights planned to defy that will and launch a proscribed mission, she had not only declined to report them to the Council, she had actively aided them in their preparations. She told herself that they would go either way, and lending her aid might keep alive those who would otherwise fall…but would they go, if she told the Council? Could the High Council get Jedi here in time to prevent them?

And if they could, would her relationship with Raven survive?

She understood that truth of herself—she respected Tirien's skill, she found Harshee an overall pleasant being, and she had some level of fealty to Lord Brascel, but in the end Raven dominated her thoughts. She worried for Gaeb's safety at Allanteen, but there was little the High Council could do to him without provoking the entire Tapani sector; it was Raven who stood to suffer if he was apprehended. And, whether he was right or wrong, Raven certainly believed the Force willed this mission. He was unhappy enough that Raina had not joined them, but if she actively sabotaged them…?

Attachment leads to error, she thought. Did her attachment to her brother cloud her judgment? Had Lord Wisté's love for his son imperiled the operation? Or did she think she was right without confidence—was she following the Council because it was the Council, uncritically, and so abrogating her duty to the Force as a Jedi Knight? Raven might not go so far, but she suspected Tirien would. Jedi serve the Force through the Council, but if the Council fails to serve the Force, does serving the Council serve only error as well?

Raina rested her forehead on one palm, running through a basic curato salva lest she fall into yet another headache.

The door hummed open behind her, and she felt a cool breeze in her mind to complement the one on her skin. "I'm surprised you're not making plans."

"There are too many variables," Tirien replied. "Until Captain Oraska's team gets back to us, we'll only waste time planning things that may never come to be."

"And the ones that will? Assuming any of this comes together."

Tirien took up a spot on the railing a few meters away, staring out into the dark forest. "Lord Brascel, Raven, and I will lead the first wave against Gasald. Lord Wisté and Sir Amaani will deal with any Sith Lords she happens to have with her, and be ready to take over if we're killed.  Yan, Gaebrean, and the girls will handle guards and anyone else."

And be the last line of assault, she imagined. Raina could no more thank him for shielding Gaeb or condemn him for exposing Raven to terrible danger than she could accuse him of trying to protect his Padawan or his half-Sith ward. Every aspect of the plan was a cold, tactical analysis; the strike team deployed its members in accordance with their skills. Clearly Lord Wisté had not told him about the change of plans with Kobold, but Raina did not feel obliged to enlighten him. Sending Kobold with Harshee instead of Gaeb might have been a flaw anyway—Gaeb was the least skilled swordsman of the Jedi Knights, and his troubling attachment to Zaella could distract both of them in battle. But then, Kobold would have been better able to protect Harshee, so there was logic even there.

Remorseless, bloodless logic. Was that proof Tirien and his cohorts had abandoned Jedi compassion? Or did he understand better than her that there was no emotion?—was her disquietude born not of respect for all life, but of frustration at being opposed by so many?

Even in profile, Tirien's face showed the emotionless expression he wore most of the time now, but he said, "Your thoughts are troubled."

Raina took a calming breath of earth and sea. "Does that surprise you?"

"I didn't realize your objections to our mission—to us—had caveats."

Raina blinked; accusing her of an ad hominem fallacy was both petty and careless for him. "This isn't about you personally—"

"No? None of us?"

Understanding cleared her confusion, but she shook her head. "I'm not Kaelora. I opposed this mission before Zaella agreed to join you, or don't you remember?"

"Perfectly. But your treatment of Zaella since has made your feelings equally clear."

"What feelings, Tirien? Distrust?  Yes, I admit that I don't trust her, and the fact that you do doesn't assuage my concerns.  And yes, I share Kaelora's belief that she'll use the dark side when put under pressure—in the end our instincts are born of our habits, which are the sum of our behaviors.  And her behaviors and habits have been those of the Sith for a long time."

Tirien's eyes tightened above his sharp nose, and he said softly, "She can be redeemed, Raina."

Raina gestured to the courtyard below, whose stones had witnessed so much training…and, of late, so much brutality. "Is that what you think is happening here?"

At last he turned to face her. "Have you no faith in the light's redemptive power at all?"

Armed with the knowledge that he had used that line on her brother, Raina was ready for him. "Redemption requires contrition, Tirien. You see what you want to see in her—a piece on your dejarik board while you pit yourself against Vedya Gasald, and whatever you talk about while you're meditating every day.  But for all your brilliant insight, you don't see the truth staring you in the face: she's a bully—a cheap thug who slinks around stronger beings so they won't hurt her and crushes weaker ones so they'll fear her.  If there's an attitude more inclined to the Sith, I don't know what it is."

Apart from his narrowed eyes, Tirien showed her no response; for a moment she could not tell if she had struck him dumb with the crushing force of her logic or if every word had passed him by without effect. "You said it yourself, Raina: instinct comes from habit comes from behavior, and Zaella had the Sith way deeply ingrained. She avoids conflict with stronger beings because fighting with a Sith Knight on Ryloth is a good way to get tortured or executed; she bullies weaker beings down because on Ryloth, every being who doesn't fear you is a potential threat, and there are enough threats from superiors without worrying about peers and subordinates too."

He looked down, and Raina sensed his mind at work, though no hint of its contents reached her. "You think I'm blind to what she is, but I'm not. I've seen firsthand how the treatment she suffered on Ryloth has warped who she is now.  It doesn't make what she does right, but it does reveal what animates her behavior."

"The dark side," Raina said.

"Fear," Tirien insisted. "And yes, I know one leads to the other, but Zaella isn't a monster with no conscience, or a sadist who takes pleasure in making others suffer for its own sake. That isn't her nature.  She's a creature that bites because its good nature has been beaten down with a whip."

He was trying to make her pity Zaella, and Raina resisted the temptation; there could be no emotion. And yet…was he a victim of attachment—of his deluded quest to redeem Zaella—or was it Raina, not Tirien, who lacked compassion?

"Even if you're right, until she makes a choice to change—"

"And how will she ever make that choice if the Jedi—who are supposed to believe in redemption and mercy—treat her like a pariah? She needs kindness and support, not condemnation."

"Are you lecturing me on the Jedi way? After what you and Yan have done here?"

Tirien grimaced. "Yan and I pursue realistic training so our teammates will survive."

"You heard Zaella—the Sith train this way."

"The Sith inflict pain because they enjoy causing suffering and have no respect for life. We've inflicted pain to prevent suffering, because we respect life—each other's lives, and the lives of every being who will live when Gasald dies."

Raina shook her head. "There are some things Jedi don't do—things Jedi shouldn't do. Mind Shard, Tirien?  If you're willing to do that, why stop Zaella from conjuring Force lightning?"

"Zaella would've drawn on the dark side for—"

"What are you saying? That anything is valid—any power or act within the purview of the Jedi—with right motivation?  Force insanity, possession, torture, anything?"

"Of course not."

"Then where's the line, Tirien?"

He rolled his eyes. "I commend you, Raina, you've taken us far away from the point about Zaella."

"You can't accept that she isn't looking for redemption, and you can't force it on her."

"And if I am right? If Zaella can be saved, and the attitude of the Jedi here will make or break that decision for her?" He shook his head, and the hair at the back of Raina's neck stood up when she saw the contempt in his eyes. "But you don't care either way, do you? You've already written off your brother and your cousin in sacrifice to your need to be right, what would Zaella be?  Because the real tragedy here would not be Zaella being lost to darkness, it would be you having to admit you're wrong about something."

Part of Raina knew he had descended to a personal attack, that she could point out that failing and shame his loss of cool, but those were not the words she spoke. "And when will you admit that you'd sink to any act—risk anyone and anything—to destroy Gasald? Because this isn't about the Republic or the Order, Tirien, this is your revenge, yours and Yan's.  Gasald hurt you, and so you're going to hurt her back, no matter who else gets hurt along the way."

The acid in her words burned on her tongue, but she heard only exaggeration, and no lies. Instead of contorting in fury, Tirien's face smoothed over, but his eyes gleamed in the deck lights with that awful coldness.

"A Jedi's life is sacrifice, Raina," he said quietly. "And yes, I would sacrifice Gaebrean, or Raven, or even Narasi to destroy Gasald; I would expect them to sacrifice me for that end. Gasald is an enemy of life and a present, existential threat—if the Council doesn't see it, they're blind, and if they see it and won't act, they're mad.  I respect that you don't want to risk your cousin or your brother, but I will never respect your refusal to risk yourself."

It took a moment before Raina realized he was accusing her not of misinterpreting the Force's will, or even of obstructing the light's path to Zaella, but of simple cowardice, and in her moment of consternation he swept back into the manor. She controlled her anger—she was not a Pelagian knight, to draw her blade over a word—but her shock ran deeper; she knew little about Tirien beyond what Raven had told her, but this was the clearest evidence yet that he had departed from the light in his quest for vengeance…

Unless…

To risk yourself, he had said, not to risk your life. Was he accusing her of cowardice in not facing Gasald and her lackeys, or not facing the High Council? Raven certainly risked himself even if the strike team triumphed; with most of the Tapani Jedi beyond its effective control and Harshee given to her own pursuits anyway, the High Council would surely bring its hammer down hardest on Tirien, Raven, and Yan. And in absenting herself from the mission, she ensured Raven would face their judgment without her.

But if the Council's will aligned with the Force's, what other choice remained?

Raina knew she would find no peace on the deck now; the ripples of her anger reverberated through the Force, poisoning the spot against meditative calm for the moment. She might venture into the woods—she feared nothing that lived in the forest, even in blackest night—but she dreaded stumbling into Lord Wisté and Sir Kobold and being accused of eavesdropping on their conversation. There was nowhere to go but back inside.

It was late enough that some Jedi had retired for the evening, but Raina knew where she would find her Padawan. Sure enough, before she was within ten meters of the library door, she felt her Padawan inside, but Renata's mind was uneasy; Raina sensed no danger, but enough tension that she quickened her pace. She did not understand the flickering flame in the Force until the door opened and she saw Renata was not alone.

"—sure it's in this sec—" Zaella glanced over her shoulder mid-sentence, but when she saw Raina, her usual unimpressed, superior demeanor contracted into a guarded expression. "Oh."

Renata sat in her favorite stuffed armchair, a datapad in her arms; she blinked when she saw Raina and echoed, "Oh."

Raina waved her Padawan down when Renata started to rise, surveying the scene before she asked, "What is going on here?"

Zaella sighed. "I just came in for a databook, I didn't even know she was going to be here!"

"Seriously, Master, she just asked me where to find a volume on Tapani art," Renata rushed to add. She wrinkled her nose, then admitted, "And she said, 'Hi Jawa'."

Zaella rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry, whose clever response was 'Hi Snakehead'?"

Renata flushed as only she could, but Raina was too distracted to correct her. Was she that bad—had she badgered Zaella so relentlessly that a single question could put the Twi'lek on the defensive? The answer stared at her through Zaella's wary eyes. She might before have taken the Twi'lek's crossed arms for a sign of defiance, but with Tirien's castigations fresh in her mind, she saw the defensiveness of the gesture—how go to Chaos might be the only way the young woman knew to say please don't hurt me.

Raina swallowed. "…right."

Zaella looked away. "Anyway…I'll leave you to it."

She started toward the door, and Raina stepped out of her way, but Renata asked, "What about your book?"

"I'll get it later." Zaella did not even slow down.

"Wait," Raina said. Zaella stopped a meter away, recoiling a little, and it occurred to Raina she had no idea what to say next. Speaking had been an impulse—whether born of the Force or simple, Human guilt, she did not know—but much as she preferred deliberate action, she had been a Jedi long enough to know that some impulses could not be safely ignored.

When she did not speak after a few seconds, Zaella's shorter lek twisted and she asked, "Yeah?"

He's frustrated that so few Jedi have faith in the redemptive power of the Force, Raven had reported of Tirien,  ' particularly given the redemption that attended your forebear's death' were his exact words.

"Zaella, come with me."

Zaella appeared both surprised and suspicious, but Raina walked past her to the databook shelves. Sensing the Twi'lek still at the door, she said, "Turn away, please."

Once she felt Zaella's compliance—bewildered, uneasy compliance—Raina pressed three databooks on three different shelves in quick succession. The shelf emitted neither beep nor click, but when Raina pushed the divider between shelves, a whole panel swung inward. "Come."

Their goggling expressions were almost identical. Renata knew the secret, of course, but of all the foreigners to whom Raina might have revealed it, Zaella probably would have been her last guess. Zaella herself stared at the doorway. "Where does it go?"

"Come with me."

Renata sat up in her chair. "Do you—"

"No. Stay, please." Raina led the way into the passage, and after a moment Zaella followed. Once Raina had closed the door with a touch of the Force, the subdued lights in the passage activated, revealing the corridor not even two beings wide. The carpeted floor muffled footsteps, and the featureless composite walls absorbed sound. Raina sensed Zaella's fear; part of her wondered if Zaella could sense hers.

Miklato had told Raven, Raina, and Renata—offhandedly, as if the matter explained itself but he felt it best to spell it out as a formality—that none of the foreigners should be brought in on Inimă Eserzennae's secret. Raina had been the staunchest in agreement; she wondered what her father would say if he could see her now even as she prayed she would not find out. She hoped the Force had given her this inspiration. She had thought it impossible after so many years, yet she had found a new sort of kinship with her brother; she imagined this was how Raven felt defying the High Council.

After fifty meters and two alcoves that led elsewhere in the manor, Zaella asked, "Do these passages run through the whole house?"

"Most of it."

"Why did you bring me here?"

"I want to show you something."

She led Raina into a circular room, as wide as the library but empty save for a ladder. She climbed without pause or explanation; Zaella hesitated below, but when Raina was twenty rungs up, she sensed the Twi'lek following. The ladder went up and up, nearly to the tower's peak, but stopped a floor short. Raina pulled off her boots on the short landing and set them on a mat; once Zaella reached the top of the ladder, Raina gestured, and she did likewise.

Raina pressed her palm to the scanner built into the opposite wall, and the ceiling above slid out of the way. A miniature lift carried them into the tower room, a simple wooden floor under the conical ceiling, the arrow slits allowing a hint of the sea breeze. The only furnishing was an octagonal reliquary on a stand, with a banner on each side bearing the winged lightsaber of the Jedi Order and the fist and sunbird of House Pelagia.

As the muted lights activated in wall sconces, Raina gestured around them. "Do you know what this is?"

"…the inaccessible room where nobody will hear my screams?"

Raina rolled her eyes, but before she could chastise the Twi'lek for her sarcasm, Zaella's eyes narrowed, and she crossed the room without invitation. Raina had to fight the instinct to draw her back as she examined the reliquary, but Zaella traced a finger in the air around it, a hint of curiosity beside her caution. "It's a Jedi shrine."

Only when Zaella gave the correct answer did Raina realize she had fully expected her not to know. Though humbled and a little embarrassed by the discovery, she kept her face clear. "How did you know?"

Zaella pointed her index finger over her shoulder. "The corae. Eight sides, with the dark side one removed.  They had Jedi shr—well, supposedly Jedi shrines on Guudria, but they were built the same way; Tirien explained it a couple times.  The corae was a whole room there, though; that's why it took me a minute."

"The larger shrines are like that," Raina said, nodding, "but the majority are like this, or they have no corae at all."

"What's the…the…damn, I forgot the word. The meditation focus in the corae."

"The senganimie," Raina supplied. "That's what I brought you here to see."

She laid a hand on the reliquary, but stopped there. "How much do you know about my great-grandfather?"

"The statue guy?"

Raina closed her eyes, ran through a calming exercise even as she wondered if the Force was playing a joke on her, then said, "Master Sir Donarius Kaivalt."

"Yeah. Uh…just the basics, I guess.  Jedi Master, Pelagia Knight…everybody loved him except the people he killed, and your dad makes it sound like even some of them thought he wasn't half-bad…died at Mizra…oh, and he owned your butler droid."

"Bernius," Raina said, and this time she stared Zaella down until she blinked.

"…right. Bernius."

Nodding, Raina said, "All that is true, but it's the matter of Mizra that's relevant here. Do you know the details of his death, and the aftermath?"

Zaella shook her head. "I assume some Sith Lord killed him, but I've never heard anything else."

"Not just a single Sith Lord. The Jedi force was already in retreat at Mizra, but after the Jedi battle meditator was killed, the lines broke altogether.  My ancestor commanded the rearguard, and when the lines broke, he and his apprentice, Jeyvril Kodd, were separated from their unit.  They were set upon by a group of Sith Lords and Dark Jedi.  My great-grandfather was very well-known, as you've gathered, and the Sith despised him for his courage and honor.  They fell on him, each determined to be the Sith who killed Donarius Kaivalt.  Eventually he and Jeyvril were slain, though they killed half a dozen Sith Lords and nearly thrice that many Dark Jedi in the process."

Zaella's lekku rippled; Raina wished she had Bernius present to translate. "If they got cut off and both died, how do you know all that?"

Pleased that she had picked out the key detail, Raina touched a hand to her heart for a second, then reached into the corae and drew out the venerable lightsaber within. She felt the echoes of war and chaos in the metal, and when she held it out to Zaella, the Twi'lek's mouth opened in a quiet indrawn breath. She turned the weapon this way and that; built for a tall man's hand, it was too large for either of them to wield comfortably, though it curved in the trademark Makashi style.

"After Donarius and Jeyvril died, the Sith mutilated their bodies—an effort to disgrace them, I'm sure; in their ignorance, they believed that harm to physical flesh without its spirit wounded Donarius and Jeyvril, not them." She wondered whether Zaella would desecrate an enemy's corpse—if, indeed, she ever had. "I'm told that inspired cheers and a variety of less savory responses from most of the watching Sith, but not all."

"The exception being…?"

"A Sith Lord named Kansa Rocca was present—a Twi'lek like yourself, actually." Zaella raised the thin eyebrows she had tattooed on, and Raina said, "Lord Rocca was a Sith Lord of some repute—not the equivalent of my ancestor, but no neophyte, and no stranger to killing Jedi. He had slain several Knights before, and murdered a good number of defenseless beings too.  Even as a Sith Lord, though, they say he had some sense of honor—warped and twisted by the dark side, perhaps, but a spark of good in the darkness."

"Lord Rocca claimed my great-grandfather's lightsaber as a trophy, but when he saw the things his compatriots did to the corpses…it touched him, in a way all those years of bloodshed and death never had. After Mizra, he retreated from his comrades into solitary meditation.  Exactly what he beheld in his meditations, I can't say—I don't know that he ever spoke of them but to say that they happened.  But one day, a month or so after Mizra, he presented himself at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, surrendered his lightsaber to the Gate Master, publicly renounced the dark side, and announced his intention to become a Jedi, if the Order would have him."

As Zaella stared, Raina nodded down. "And he returned that lightsaber to honor my ancestor's courage. The High Council passed it to the High Lord of House Pelagia, who in turn gave it to my great-grandmother as a relic for our family."

For a long moment, Zaella did not speak, and again Raina wished she understood the hidden language of lekku. Then Zaella pointed the emitter to the center of the shrine, reached for the power stud…and stopped. "May I?"

Raina hesitated, but in the end she nodded. The snap-hiss echoed in the circular chamber, and the blue blade's light shone brighter than all the wall sconces combined. The curved hilt made for an awkward grip, but Zaella swung a simple, slow-motion downward cut, then whirled the blade around her back into a sai cha. She took one hand off the hilt, then brought the weapon closer; its glow turned her from Lethan to Rutian. "I can feel it…"

Raina frowned curiously. "Donarius?"

"Well, yeah, him too, but…what was his name? Kansa Rocca?  I feel…conflict.  Internal conflict, I mean."

Though she could count on one hand the number of times in her life she had held the weapon for longer than a second or two, Raina had never experienced any such echoes; if Raven or her father had, neither had told her. The first time she entered this room, she had followed her grandfather up; he had pressed the lightsaber into her grip with his weathered hands, and she had felt a touch of destiny, a shared kinship with this storied man she would never know who would nonetheless define so much of her life.

She had never felt even a whisper of the dark side, but Kansa Rocca had possessed the lightsaber during the most transformative moments of his life. Though less than enthused to think there were traces of a Sith Lord in this family heirloom, Raina knew that was far more realistic than believing Donarius Kaivalt had been tempted by the dark side; even during his legendary captivity by Efel Deen, Donarius had been a stalwart champion of the light.

And Kansa Rocca may have been a Sith Lord when he took the lightsaber, whispered a little voice inside, which sounded like Raven's, with a touch of Tirien's too, but he became a Jedi when he surrendered it.

Raina held out her hand, and Zaella deactivated the blade and surrendered the lightsaber. Tucking it back in the corae, she turned and saw Zaella in the dim light again—Sith red, her tattoos prominent around her lekku. Had it only been a trick of the light that showed Raina another possibility? Or was she blind now—seeing only the crude flesh, as the Sith who mutilated her ancestor had, and neglecting the spirit beneath?

"Sooo…was there a point to this?" Zaella asked. "You said you wanted to show me something, and I don't think you brought me up here through your secret spy dungeon for a history lesson."

Raina hesitated, and Zaella's eyes narrowed. "Don't tell me it's Tirien, Narasi, and you who think I'm going to be a Jedi?"

Raina held up a hand—Zaella had asked the question directly, and deserved an answer, but only a well-considered one. Choosing her words with care, she replied, "Kansa Rocca was a brutal, violent man as a Sith Lord, but he became a Jedi Knight—a Knight haunted by the things he had done, the stories say, but a Jedi nonetheless. From what Tirien's told me, Rocca sank far deeper into the dark than you have—and willingly so.  So no, I don't believe it's impossible."

"'It's not impossible'." Zaella rolled her eyes. "What a ringing endorsement."

"Tirien has faith in you, but Tirien has seen you do great and courageous things. I haven't," Raina said bluntly. "When I face the temptation of the dark side, it doesn't matter what I've done before, how many times I've resisted its lures or fought its servants—and none of my fellow Jedi can spare me the temptation by standing beside me and telling the darkness what a great Jedi I am. All that matters is what I do or fail to do in the moment."

Zaella blinked, and Raina sensed with some surprise that she had not just registered, but struck the young woman to the heart. Zaella opened and closed her mouth twice before she recovered speech. "What…what's your point?"

"My point is this: being a Jedi is a choice. The instincts of a Jedi to do justice, to seek the hard right rather than the easy wrong, and to confront evil, are all instincts born from a lifetime of choices made in the face of temptation, over and over again, until the day we die.  The dark is far easier, and choosing evil even once can taint a Jedi's entire life.  Being a Jedi is not easy for anyone; becoming a Jedi after a lifetime of the dark side is very difficult indeed.  But it won't happen to you on its own, and no Jedi, no matter how powerful, can do it to you—or for you.  You have to choose it yourself.  There is no other way."

Zaella said nothing; for a long moment she did not move, save for her lekku twitching. Eventually she nodded, and Raina led the way back down to the landing. This time Zaella climbed down the ladder, sliding the last few meters with her hands on the rails, but even then, Raina sensed her fighting a battle in her head.

Raina allowed silence as she led Zaella back to the library, but when they reached the door, she stretched out with her mind to ensure Renata was still alone, then said, "I own responsibility for my actions, but I ask you to tell no one about these passages—only my family and Renata know—and not to discuss this with anyone."

Zaella's answering expression was a kaleidoscope of emotions; Raina thought she recognized frustration and surprise, but some of the others were harder to understand, and her thoughts were too jumbled to bestow much clarity. "…yeah, okay."

Raina nodded and reached for the switch to release the door, but Zaella said, "Raina?"

"Yes?"

What Zaella meant to say—what she would have said, unfiltered—Raina would never know; too much passed over her face, too quickly. But just as the silence became heavy between them, she said, "…thanks."