Shots Fired/Part 5

A few queries to Jedi instructors had Tirien walking into a large training room a few hallways off the Room of a Thousand Fountains. Inside he found an enormous, powerfully built Boltrunian, who turned at his approach and showed a smile of sharp fangs.

"Tirien Kal-Di!" he roared genially, slapping Tirien on the arm hard enough that the Pantoran Jedi Knight staggered for balance. "What a surprise!"

"It's good to see you, Master Z'dar."

"And you, boy!" Argus Z'dar's jovial nature belied the most gifted swordsman Tirien had ever seen; he could have fought Suwo Tolp down with his sword hand tied behind his back, and the rumor was that not even the Council masters could stand against him in a sparring duel. "Always happy to have one of my favorite prodigies return. How go the battles?"

"They go, Master," Tirien offered. "The Council of Five is expanding its reach. I think they'll move against Lord Aresh soon."

Z'dar crossed his beefy arms and scowled thoughtfully. "If they can defeat Aresh and acquire his territory, they could lock up the northern half of the Slice and cut us off from the Outer Rim completely."

Tirien nodded. "And then press into the Expansion Region."

Z'dar shook his head grimly. "Council of Five…ever since Mizra the dark side has been gaining strength, but this 'Council'…it's a perversion, Tirien. The negative of the Jedi Order." Sighing, he managed to reassemble a smile. "But I doubt you've come here just to fill in the old man. What can I do for you?"

Tirien thought privately he would rather discuss the galactic military strategy for the rest of the day than complete the errand he was here for, but he forced down the thought; he had promised to obey. "I'm looking for a Jedi Initiate named Narasi Rican."

"Well, you're in the right place, then! Bergruutfa Clan's due any minute." He studied Tirien curiously. "What do you want with Rican?"

Tirien sighed. "She's to be my Padawan, Master."

Z'dar looked briefly surprised, but then grinned. "A good choice! She's a regular little gundark in battle.  Sailed through her Initiate Trials and came in third this last year's Apprentice Tournament, and she was only twelve then!  Is that what brought her to your attention?"

Tirien frowned. He had done fairly well at the Apprentice Tournament himself, and Suwo Tolp had approached him shortly thereafter. Ignoring the question, he asked, "Third place and no Jedi took her as a Padawan? What's wrong with her?"

Z'dar's grin faded. "Nothing's wrong with her. It's…well, call it what it is: prejudice."

"Prejudice against what?"

"You…" Z'dar looked confused. "Haven't you met her?"

"No," Tirien said, grimacing. "I didn't choose her as my Padawan. I don't even want a Padawan.  The Council chose her for me."

"The Council…" Z'dar frowned for a long moment, his deep-set eyes downcast as he considered this revelation. "I see."

"Apparently the Jedi Seers foresaw some destiny binding us together." Tirien couldn't keep the frustration out of his tone, but he wasn't sure Z'dar caught it anyway.

"All the same…I wouldn't tell her, Tirien. She won't take it well at all.  Probably think it was pity." Z'dar's tone suggested he thought it was.

"Pity for…?" Tirien started, but a clamor of conversation distracted him, and he sensed a number of Initiates approaching.

"Less talking, more assembling!" Z'dar barked, and the Initiates skulking by the doorway darted inside, lining themselves up. As the dozen of them were getting into rows, Z'dar nudged Tirien inconspicuously, nodded, and said, "That's Narasi."

Tirien followed his gaze and swallowed back the bile that rose in his throat. Instantly he understood why Narasi Rican would resent being pitied by the Jedi Council, and why no Jedi Knight had selected her despite Argus Z'dar's praise for her prowess.

The girl was a Zygerrian.

Feared and loathed in equal measure throughout the Outer Rim, the Zygerrian slavers were the terror of a thousand worlds and species. Worse, Zygerria itself was only a galactic stone's throw from Korriban, and it had surprised no one when the Zygerrians had thrown in with the Sith. Every Sith Lord of note, from Darth Ruin six centuries before down to the present day, had allowed the Zygerrians to carry on their trade unmolested, and in return the Zygerrians supplied the Sith with a large percentage of their slave populations. They took no sides in the internecine Sith power struggles, happily providing sentient chattel to anyone willing to buy.

Tirien had not had occasion to battle the Zygerrians himself, but he had heard of more than one Jedi dying at their hands, and he had seen them in spaceports, preceded by whispered warnings and followed by looks of contempt. He had never seen a Zygerrian in the Core, however, and he wondered how this Narasi had come to the Jedi in the first place, with her homeworld far beyond what remained of the Republic. Before he could ask, Master Z'dar addressed the class.

"All right, Initiates!" he boomed. "As you can see, we're honored with a guest today—one who could've fenced circles around you when he was your age! This is Tirien Kal-Di!"

Tirien dismissed Z'dar's extravagant praise easily enough—as an Initiate in his class, every achievement was the bare minimum acceptable, and every senior Jedi was better in every way, especially Z'dar's grandmother—but he raised his dark purple eyebrows as the Initiates' eyes widened and they began chattering amongst themselves excitedly. He expected Z'dar to roar them into silence, but the big Jedi Master just smirked.

"Is it true you defeated three Sith on Woostri one-handed?!" a young Mon Calamari asked excitedly.

Tirien frowned. "Well, I'm a Makashi stylist. I always fight one-handed."

"And you stopped the plan to sabotage the shipyards at Kuat?" asked Narasi the Zygerrian soon-to-be-Padawan.

Controlling himself from grimacing at her reflexively, Tirien said, "Not alone. But I was there."

"And you saved the admiral of the Third Fleet from poison?" a Nautolan squealed.

Blinking, Tirien said, "I don't remember that one…"

"That's because it wasn't you," Z'dar put in wryly. "That was Mali Darakhan. You aren't the only hero the Order has, Kal-Di."

Tirien answered with a dry smile. "Of course not, Master."

But the Initiates didn't seem dissuaded by the mistake; they were still staring, and the Mon Calamari said, "Wiiiiizard."

"You've all been getting mighty big for your boots!" Master Z'dar thundered, and the Initiates clammed up at once. "Thought you should see what a real Jedi duel looks like! What do you say, Tirien?  Shall we show them how it's done?"

Caught by surprise, Tirien nonetheless stepped back, shrugging out of his robe and tossing it aside. He sensed excitement and anticipation wash through the room as Z'dar cracked his knuckles and stepped forward, the Initiates hastily flattening themselves against the wall. Tirien stepped opposite him in the room, taking the curved lightsaber from his belt and calling forth the green blade, offering a salute before he dropped into guard. Z'dar grinned and ignited his own blue blade, and they came together in a crash of plasma.

Tirien felt his tension and resentment of the Council fade as they dueled; here, at least, his focus was entirely consumed. Since Thisspias, he had devoted extra time to combat training, determined to never again be battered almost to defeat by a larger opponent, and to let the Force hone him into a weapon against the Sith. He darted and danced back and forth, left and right, stabbing and retracting at lightning speed, staying balanced rather than overcommitting, going for deflections rather than blocks, conserving energy.

Despite his size, Argus Z'dar was remarkably light on his feet, and every blow had the force of a meteor strike. He had been in the field fighting before Tirien was even born and been the victor of duels without count. And though his bulk and height made him a natural for Form V, his time as a lightsaber instructor had armed him with techniques from every style of combat.

They fought for a few minutes, and Tirien thought he acquitted himself well against the Temple's sword master, but in the end Z'dar battered his single-hand hold aside and reversed in the blink of an eye, stopping the blow a few centimeters short of Tirien's throat before he could recover to guard. The Boltrunian grinned, and Tirien managed a smirk back. "Solah."

They retreated and bowed to one another, Tirien saluted, and they extinguished their blades. Z'dar clapped Tirien on the shoulder; Tirien had to flex his knees to absorb the impact. "Damn you for not being a Guardian, Kal-Di!"

The Initiates cheered and clapped, but Z'dar rounded on them and exclaimed, "Well, time to see what you're made of! And try not to embarrass me in front of Jedi Kal-Di!"

As the Novices practiced and Z'dar walked amongst them, barking corrections and demonstrating techniques, Tirien surreptitiously observed the Zygerrian, Narasi. She paired strong strokes with agile footwork in drills, and when the Initiates got to sparring, it was obvious Narasi was the star of the class. She was good, and Tirien began to believe there was something to Z'dar's comment about prejudice. An Initiate this skilled should have been someone's Padawan.

But that didn't mean she had to be Tirien's Padawan, and the realization brought him full circle to annoyance.

Eventually Z'dar called a halt, and the twelve sweaty, panting Novices bowed to their partners, then the Jedi Master. "All right, enough. Off with you." They headed toward the door, but he added, "Not you, Rican."

The Zygerrian stopped, exchanging glances with her clan mates before returning. She looked a little nervous as she turned her striking blue eyes from Z'dar to Tirien and back. "Hello Masters."

Her voice had a touch of the smooth, purring accent for which the Zygerrians were renowned, but it seemed years on Coruscant had softened it.

"I'm a Knight, not a Master," Tirien corrected.

"But you'd best not lose the habit, Rican," Z'dar said, smiling at her. He waited expectantly while Narasi looked confused, and it eventually occurred to Tirien that Z'dar wanted him to make the announcement. When Tirien struggled too long for words that didn't sound hostile, the Boltrunian covered him with a chuckle. "Wouldn't say Sithspit if he had a mouthful, this one! You've got a lot of one-sided conversations to look forward to, Rican.  Tirien's going to be your new master."

Narasi looked puzzled for a second, but then her eyes widened and a burst of surprise and excitement in the Force hit Tirien like a punch. "Master…you mean…my Jedi master? Like…as a Padawan?"

Z'dar grinned and Tirien managed a nod, and Narasi whooped, leaping into the air and pumping her fist. Her grin stretched wide, her long fangs visible. "YES! Oh, I've been waiting for this forever!  Oh, you won't be sorry Master!"

Tirien, who saw she was talking to him, was confident he would be even sorrier in the near future than he already was. The impression intensified immensely as she gave him a hug, then retreated. "Sorry, Master! I'm just—"

"Breaking the first tenet of the Jedi Code in your first minute as a Padawan?" Tirien bit out.

Narasi forced her expression back to neutrality. "'There is no emotion, there is peace'," she recited. "Right."

"You two should take some time to get to know one another," Master Z'dar advised innocently.

Narasi's face lit up again, but Tirien knew himself well enough to know his limits, and going from the Council to the enthusiastic Zygerrian was approaching them. "Tomorrow," he said firmly. "Spend the rest of the day in meditation and preparation. I'll collect you from your dormitory in the morning."

"Yes Master!" Narasi said, and, with a bow to her seniors, she ran out the door.

When she was gone, Tirien looked at Z'dar wearily. The Boltrunian Jedi Master shook his head. "Off to a good start, then…"

Tirien worked up a half-smile, but felt comfortable enough to give voice to his frustration a little. "Master, you know the Council members better than I do. Do you really think this is the will of the Force?"

"I've known them longer, but I don't know about better," Z'dar replied. "They do things for their own reasons, Tirien. I think I belong in the field, fighting the Sith, and yet here I am.  If you're going to be a Jedi, that means following the Council, even when it doesn't make sense."

"Yes, Master. But—"

"You and Narasi?" Z'dar cut in. He shrugged. "Truthfully I don't know. She's always been an enthusiastic little thing, and you…well, you're you."

Tirien smirked, and Z'dar cuffed him on the shoulder; braced this time, Tirien managed not to wobble. "You're a good Jedi, Tirien, and you've done more already than I did at your age. And I think she'll be a good Jedi too.  Whether you'll be good together…well, only time and the Force will tell us that."