A Certain Point of View/Part 4

They crowded in on Tirien from all sides, extending holorecorders and microphones in his direction, hemming him in so tightly he laid his off hand on the hilt of Mali's lightsaber just to be sure he didn't lose it. "It's a privilege to be home," he said evasively, "but the war won't allow me to stay indefinitely."

"Are the Sith expanding toward Pantora?" a journalist demanded.

"I haven't received any intelligence to that effect," Tirien dodged, but as it had so far, his caginess piqued their interest rather than their frustration.

"Master Kal-Di—"

"Just Tiri—"

"What would you say to young Pantorans who want to be just like you?" the man overrode him.

The idea of young Pantorans wanting to be just like him was still so alien that Tirien took a moment to gather his thoughts. "I'd say doing the right thing is sometimes the hardest thing, but in the end—"

Even as he said it it sounded like a Jedi platitude to his ears, better suited to Initiate instruction than the observation of a battle-seasoned Jedi Knight, but another reporter saved him from reflecting on it too long by cutting in. "Master Kal-Di, are you here to support the Sujimis Collective movement?"

Tirien had never even heard of such a thing; despite being surrounded by faces just like his own, he began to feel like an alien. "I'm not taking a position without—"

"Does the Republic plan to offer protection to Pantora?"

Frustrated by his lack of preparation, Tirien tried, "I'm not—"

"Master Kal-Di! Master Kal-Di!" The voices piled onto one another, and Tirien had to resist the urge to compel them into silence with the Force—or buffet them back a step for some breathing room. He reminded himself that his homeworld was not a Republic world. I may be the only Jedi they ever see. Suwo had rarely concerned himself about such things, of course—if anyone saw them, it often meant they had failed—but Master Tem-Fol-Rytil was a fervent believer in the Jedi as ambassadors of the Order and the Republic.

Tirien had decided to lay a thin layer of mind trickery on the crowd, just enough to get them asking questions one at a time, when a new, more authoritative voice called, "Master Kal-Di."

Some of the reporters parted enough for Tirien to see a dark speeder with tinted windows idling in the middle of the street, a pair of policemen on speeder bikes waiting to escort it. A well-dressed Pantoran stood behind the open rear door. Tirien knew only a handful of symbols from his homeworld apart from his own clan sigil, but he recognized the symbol of Pantora's government on the vehicle's side.

"Please," the woman said, stepping back to clear the way to the door.

Tirien stretched out with the Force, but sensed no danger, only professionalism and some muted curiosity. He made his way through the crowd, excusing himself to the reporters still clamoring for his attention. He had not come to speak to anyone from the government, but he would rather that than risk a misstatement in the onslaught of newsgathering; a diplomat he might be, but even Tirien needed mental breathing room to gather his thoughts. He ducked into the speeder and his rescuer closed the door behind them.

"Welcome to Pantora, Master Jedi," the woman said. She was older than Tirien by several years and clearly dressed for elegance rather than quick movement. "My name is Samaya Otarosi."

"I suppose my introduction's a bit superfluous," he noted dryly, shaking hands. "You were expecting me?"

"Isalius Spaceport apprised us of your arrival. The Chairman is eager to meet you."

Tirien blinked. "The Chairman…of the Pantoran Assembly?"

"Of course. I'm his personal advisor for galactic affairs."

Scrambling for a response to this new and not entirely welcome development, Tirien worked to keep his face smooth and betray none of his misgivings. "You must be acquainted with Jedi Nefkin."

Samaya nodded. "We've met on two occasions, including just recently."

Tirien weighed that, wondering how much this woman—and the Chairman—knew. "Then you understand that I'm not on Pantora as a diplomat for the Republic."

It seemed crucial to establish that early, but Samaya was unfazed. "Jedi Nefkin mentioned the nature of her assignment here, and yet she left alone. Did the Jedi Council feel you'd fare better?"

Tirien heard the question beneath the question just in time to catch his instinctive response. How actively is the Jedi Council interested in Pantora? The woman's face gave nothing away, and her mind felt disciplined and calm; Tirien had interacted with enough politicians to recognize the subtle expertise at work. "Sometimes a message can be heard differently when it's expressed from a different perspective. Harshee is an excellent Jedi, but she's not Pantoran."

She seemed to grasp that he hadn't really offered anything of substance, but merely nodded. "I'm sure I can speak for the Chairman in saying Pantora would be proud to have any more of its children rise to your heights, but of course we defer to the will of the family in question."

"As do we, and to the will of the Force," Tirien answered. I'm a Jedi, not a kidnapper. "Though the Sith don't share my respect for individual agency."

Samaya frowned. "We're not unaware of the threat Lady Hadan poses. The Chairman will want to discuss that with you."

Tirien had been thinking of the Empire, as he usually did; he was unused to being on a planet where the Council of Five and its armada of Sith were not the pressing threat. He knew less of Tarni Hadan than he might, and most of that rumors, so he merely nodded to buy himself time. He looked through the tinted window at the streets of Isalius as they flashed past, marveling again at the surreal feeling of being a place he might reasonably consider home.

"When did you have in mind?"

"Late morning tomorrow, if that's convenient for you," Samaya replied. "And I believe the Chairman might have some ideas to resolve your impasse as well."

Considering it, Tirien had to admit Dorje Sokos was unlikely to change his views before the end of the day. Moreover, more than a few hours of furlough might be good for Narasi, and it would give Tirien time to work on a strategy for Ayson. And perhaps the Chairman would happen on a solution Tirien had missed. "Certainly. Where should I meet him?"

"We'll send a car for you, Master Jedi."

Tirien raised an eyebrow. "I haven't told you where I'll be."

"Allow me to tell you," Samaya answered, smiling faintly. After he took the datacard she offered, she said, "We took the liberty of arranging your stay at the Ansiort Hotel. For you and your apprentice, of course."

Though he was glad they had included Narasi without being asked, Tirien repressed a sigh. "That's very kind, but unnecessary. I can easily provide for our accommodations."

"The Chairman personally insisted," Samaya pressed. "It's the least we can do for a native son who's come home."

Tirien could appreciate the artfulness there; he could hardly reject the Chairman's personal generosity, especially when the man might be of help to him with Ayson. His people were proud and given to formality—qualities Tirien himself wasn't above, if he was being honest—and the rejection could easily be taken as a slight. Nor did he want to appear the proud Jedi disdainful of his homeworld's leaders and their courtesy. Boxed in, he was left to repeat, "That's kind, Samaya, thank you. And please thank the Chairman for me."

"I will, although you can thank him yourself tomorrow. We could retrieve your luggage from the Second Chance now, if you'd like?"

It seemed pointless to wait, and so they took the quick route back to the spaceport, the emergency lights of their escort clearing a path. The speeder's driver, whom Tirien took for Samaya's bodyguard as well, offered to carry their bags, but Tirien drew the line there; he preferred to keep the Second Chance as a haven for himself and Narasi whenever possible, and he needed a moment without them anyway.

Sitting down at the pilot's console, Tirien drew out his Jedi beacon transceiver, plugging it into his datapad. Mali had sent no further word on the Crusader and its apparent battle with the Sith, but Tirien began to type haltingly after a moment. He was unused to relying on other Jedi for advice, but in this, at least, he could admit Darakhan had worlds more experience.


 * O N P ANTORA FOR RECRUITMENT . P OPULACE IS MAKING ME OUT TO BE SOME SORT OF FOLK HERO, AND NOW I HAVE A MEETING WITH THE C HAIRMAN OF THE P ANTORAN A SSEMBLY .  H OW DO YOU MANAGE CIVILIAN EXPECTATIONS AND ACCOLADES WITHOUT FALLING INTO ARROGANCE ?

He weighed that momentarily, then deleted the last four words. Mali would likely understand the underlying concerns, and Tirien did not want to color Mali's reply by limiting the inquiry. Or perhaps, he thought, you don't want to show Mali the real nature of your misgivings. Was his concern based in giving Mali free rein to reply, or in keeping the real nature of his worries from his friend—an arrogance of another sort?

Tirien hesitated, then sent the message as it was.