Grim Tidings/Part 3

Narasi tried to focus more on the Force than her actual body mechanics; elbows locked out in a handstand, she knew she had the balance to hold herself there for quite a while, but not while doing anything else. And since she was doing something else, she needed to trust the Force to keep her where she needed to be. She was working on a personal record, after all.

Five Padawans ringed a pile of smooth pebbles, each drawing another pebble as he or she was ready for it. Narasi had a stack of sixteen going—sixteen shaky pebbles in a neat, vertical stack, held in place by nothing but her will. Taking a slow breath, she stretched out her mind for a seventeenth. Her stack started to wobble; one of the bottom few was slipping from its place. Digging her clawlike nails into the rubber of the training room floor and gritting her teeth, Narasi imagined a slender column barely her pinky finger wide, running down the middle of the pebbles as if she had them all on a string, as it if was a line of gravity to reel them in. Slowly, the errant pebble slid back into place.

"Good," soft-voiced Master Boag crooned. "Do not let weariness distract you."

Of course, right when he pointed it out was when it became distracting; the burn in her arms unmuted and a hiss slid through her teeth. The Force she told her. Breathing to give her aching muscles oxygen, Narasi picked up her seventeenth pebble, levitating it through the air to add it to her stack. She risked a quick glance around; none of the other Padawans had that many. Correcting her pebbles as they started to list again, Narasi focused on the eighteenth pebble.

She wanted to beat her previous record of twenty-two, though it was only an intermediate goal. She had made the mistake of asking Tirien whether Padawans had been put to this exercise in his day. After castigating her for the words in your day and reminding her he was only eleven years older, Tirien had confirmed they had. She had asked what his record was, and plowed through the ensuing cautions.

Your apprenticeship is your own journey, he had told her. Don't compare your path to another's.

You just don't want to tell me, she had taunted.

It's not a contest, Narasi.

I'm about to scoop you, aren't I? You're afraid I'll blow your record out of space.

I'm not afraid of anything, Narasi.

Then you should tell me!

He had told her. She was not about to scoop him.

Narasi settled her eighteenth pebble onto the growing stack, which leaned again. She tried to re-center them all, though her distractions were mounting; the ache had transferred to her shoulders, and the blood was starting to pool in her head. Tirien had taught her about slowing her heartbeat and keeping her blood flowing so she didn't get lightheaded, but doing it upside-down in a handstand while performing telekinesis…

Thinking about how hard it was doesn't make it easier, she chided herself. Her legs scissored in the air, but she caught herself and reached for a nineteenth pebble.

Her comlink buzzed. Sighing, Narasi lowered one foot, feeling the stretch in her thighs until the other touched down too. Once she took the weight off her arms she groaned; it almost covered the sound of her pebble tower collapsing.

"Control, Narasi," Master Boag chided.

"It could be my Master!"

"I suspect it is, and of course you must answer it. That's no reason for making a mess."

"Yes, Master." Narasi waved a hand, and her eighteen pebbles skittered back into the pile in the center of the room. Taking some pride in the fact that eighteen was still more than anyone else had managed, she bowed to Master Boag, stepped from the room, and drew out her comlink.

A glance at the readout told her it was Tirien. "Here, Master."

"Narasi, come by my quarters when you're free."

"I'm on my way."

She half-expected Slejux to be there—they had been working on something together for the last few days—but he was alone. "I said 'when you're free'," he noted. "Aren't you supposed to be in lessons?"

"I didn't have that much left, and I would've had to start my pebble stack from scratch anyway." He was sitting at his desk, so she sat cross-legged on the foot of his bed. "What's up? A mission for us?"

She had enjoyed a couple weeks of nothing but practice and training after Darkknell—though shipboard routine had been alien the first few days—but now that she was all rested up, she was ready for another venture outside the Crescentia ' s safe bulkheads.

"I'm not sure."

Narasi scratched one of her ears. "You're not sure? What, did the Council deadlock on the vote or something?"

"No. It's…well, read for yourself."

He tossed her his beacon transceiver. She caught it with her off hand for practice, then plugged it into her datapad and read: S LAVERS WILL RAID L IFE P OINT ON C AROSI IV ON 1:FS:2267 .

Narasi's heart turned to lead even as fire trickled through her veins. "Where's Carosi IV?"

Tirien tapped the imagecaster on his desk, and it produced a map of the northeastern galaxy. One dot was highlighted; clearly he had been expecting the question. Narasi studied the holo for a moment, then asked, "How quickly can we get there?"

As Tirien looked from the holomap to her, she had a flashback to Alderaan, when she had insisted they rush to Gyndine to confront Darth Vandak. Tirien's expression had been equally exasperated then, but she thought there was disappointment in his eyes too, and it back the hair on the back of her neck stand up even as her ears flared. "Hey, I didn't say let's go, I asked—"

"I appreciate the evolution," he cut her off, "but it's still a work in progress."

"So what's the problem this time?"

"Shall we start with the map or the transceiver?"

Narasi blinked, turned the transceiver over in her hand, then shook her head. "Uh…the map, I guess."

"All right, then look at the map. Really look at it, Narasi."

He handed her the imagecaster, and she magnified the holo, glancing at nearby systems and looking for names she knew. "Hey, it's not far from Toprawa!"

Tirien looked through the holo from the other side and raised an eyebrow. "Not what I hoped you'd pick up on, but true."

Narasi zoomed out, studying the entire galaxy with Carosi IV still lit up. Studying the problem from a macro level, she thought she understood Tirien's concern. "It's pretty far from Coruscant. And if it's near Toprawa…disputed territory?"

"Not so much disputed as unenforced," Tirien corrected. "The Empire doesn't hold it securely, but only because it has other priorities; if Aresh tried to stake a claim there, those priorities would shift quickly. But Darth Nicodeme has been expanding her control over the Hydian, and Carosi's not far off."

"Darth Nicodeme…is she one of the Sith Overlords? I don't remember her."

Tirien snorted. "Not technically—Darth Strahd is the Overlord, but he's…less than ambitious. A Darth equivalent to Lord Osydro, you might say.  For years he's been content to manage what he was entrusted and fend off problems that came to him, but Darth Nicodeme is his right hand now, and she's changing that reputation quickly.  I suspect she doesn't want to be left behind while Saleej and Gasald are pushing toward the Core."

"Okay…but it's slavers, right? Not an invasion fleet.  We don't have to take the battle group, we could just go in the Second Chance."

"Just the two of us, against an entire slave raid?" Tirien's eyes had narrowed, and Narasi was starting to feel the ripples of disapproval in the Force.

"The Second Chance is small enough to slip past whatever Darth Nicodeme has on the Hydian, and you and I are gonna be more than a match for slavers without Sith backup. And they outsource their slaving, right?  So they won't have Sith with them." When he continued to frown, Narasi said, "Master, they're innocent people!"

"And that takes us to the transceiver," Tirien said. "Look at the sender."

She looked, then frowned. "E7Q9486AY…Master, what is all this? Who sent it?"

"I don't know," he nodded, "and therein lies my concern. Every beacon transceiver is coded in the Temple, to the individual Jedi to whom it's issued.  I replied asking who it was; when I got no response, I queried the Temple with the identification code, and the Order has no record of it."

Narasi sat for a moment, thinking, occasionally looking at the transceiver in her hands. "Well…it has to be a Jedi, right? Maybe there was a problem with the signal."

"Beacon signals don't work that way," he told her. "As long as they have s-threads for the relay, they'll get where they're going. And the beacon may have belonged to a Jedi at one point, but who knows who's holding it now?  Thousands of Jedi have died in this war, and I'm sure hundreds have lost their transceivers one way or another; I lost one of mine, once."

"How?" Narasi asked.

Tirien's eyes tightened, and Narasi wondered at the story behind the incident. Then he said, "Looking for you—when you and Aldayr were on Vjun."

Narasi cleared her throat. "Right. Well, even if a Jedi lost it, or it got taken from a dead Jedi, wouldn't a being need to access it?  They're impossible to slice, aren't they?"

"They're supposed to be impossible to slice," Tirien corrected. "Suwo would've said that a system is only impossible to slice as long as the coder has more patience than the slicer. And with what the Sith would pay for the ability to communicate with any Jedi…I imagine some slicers could be very patient."

Narasi grimaced. "You think it's a trap?"

"It may be. If the sender was so concerned with saving beings from slavery, why not send the information to the Temple?  Or to any of the Jedi who are closer and better able to intervene?"

"You think they're targeting you?"

The suspicion and disapproval in Tirien's eyes relaxed into something just as troubled; Narasi thought it was concern. "Possible, but I think it more likely they're targeting you."

Narasi blinked. "Me? Why me?"

"Look at the map again."

Narasi did, zooming back in to explore the region around Carosi. As Tirien said, it was not far off the Hydian. Korriban and Ziost in Sith Space drew her eye; the whole Stygian Caldera was less than two quadrants away. But that made no sense; the Sith would just as quickly target Tirien. Narasi looked around, following the Hydian Rimward…and swallowed hard when she found Listehol. She had no need to follow the Listehol Run away, because she knew what lay at the other end, less than three quadrants from Carosi.

She looked up at Tirien. "Zygerria."

He nodded. "How many times have you said it over the years? You're the only Zygerrian Jedi in the history of the Order.  By now half the galaxy knows it.  And being what they are, the slaver lords are probably as ashamed of you as I am proud of you—and if that's so, they must hate you indeed."

Narasi heard the compliment beneath the understanding of the threat, and she gave her master a warm smile. Tirien nodded without a change of expression and said, "I'm sure the Zygerrians would love to dispose of you given the chance."

They won't stop until they catch us, and it's just a matter of time, Narasi remembered the harsh, whispered words she hadn't been meant to hear, the ones that had filled her with dread. Take her now while you have the chance.

"I…yes, they would," she breathed.

Tirien cocked his head, and he was quiet long enough that Narasi looked up and found his face ambivalent. His voice softened as he asked, "Maybe now you want to tell me…?"

She knew at once what he meant, and part of her wanted nothing more. To finally give it voice, what she had never told anyone, not even Zilq at the Temple… "I…"

"You can trust me, Narasi."

"I know I can," she assured him. "And I do. Really.  But…not now.  Not…it won't help.  Trust me on that, it won't make a difference.  And they'll want to kill me a lot more because I'm a Jedi than because my…because of anything else."

Tirien's face smoothed, but not before his eyes tightened just for a second. Was that disapproval, Narasi wondered, or hurt? She felt a surge of guilt so strong it was nauseating. Just tell him, you coward! she told herself…but she didn't. It wasn't that she didn't trust him, she told herself; she trusted Tirien more than anyone in the galaxy, trusted him completely. But something so personal, so deep-seated…the idea of sharing that…

"As you say," Tirien said, and Narasi winced at the way his tone had cooled again. "But the point stands: it could be a trap, for either or both of us. And it's a tight enough time table that we don't have a chance to check it out, which can't be a coincidence."

Narasi looked at the beacon message again. The first day of the Festival of Stars was only four days away. The idea of walking right into a Zygerrian trap—the risk of being captured and dragged in chains before the High King—sent a shiver down her spine. But Narasi was a Jedi, and she knew she had to be stronger than her fear.

"We have to go," she said. "Maybe it is a trap, Master…but maybe it's not. If it is, we're Jedi, we'll deal with it.  But if it's not, then there are innocent people who need our help.  Have you ever dealt with Zygerrians?  Other than me, I mean?"

Tirien didn't take his eyes off hers as he shook his head.

"There's a reason everybody's afraid of them, Master. We can't let them hurt the…the…Carosians?"

"'Carosites'," Tirien corrected, but his face had softened again. Narasi wasn't sure what to make of the way he was looking at her, but he thought for a moment, then nodded. "We need to move quickly; I want to get there before the raid. And we'll need approval; one Milagro was enough."

"It's gonna take a while to get the Council together, Master," Narasi fretted.

"Which is why we aren't going to waste the time. Master La'altac is the Council's leader, he can approve it on his own, and I think he'll be sympathetic."

"You're gonna talk to him now?" Narasi asked as they both stood and Tirien grabbed his go bag.

"No," he said. "Even if this isn't a trap, two of us may not be enough to fight a whole slave raid—not when we need to protect civilians too. I'm going to get Slejux."

"What about Master La'altac?"

For the first time since she had signaled at his door, Narasi saw her master smirk, just a little bit. "That's your job."

Narasi could feel her eyes bulging. "My…"

"Your mission, your area of space, your chance to test your persuasive argument skills. I'll be in the hangar bay."

And without another word he shooed her out of his room, slung on his robe, shouldered his go bag, and headed off down the corridor without a backward glance.

Narasi had spent time with Master La'altac outside the Council room, of course—every Jedi aboard a praxeum ship studied, taught, or both, regardless of other duties; even Master Kadych had taught swordplay to some Knights. Master La'altac was a gentle soul, and his voice and feeling in the Force always reassured Narasi whenever she was around him, but she always felt his kind eyes saw through her—not to her thoughts, as Master Kadych's had, but to her heart. Just now, she thought she might rather try her mental control around Master Kadych.

After passing her room, lost in abstraction, and circling back to collect her own bag, Narasi made her way to the meditation chambers in the Crescentia s s starboard wing. She found Multiqi La'altac leading a group of Jedi Initiates in meditation. All of them sat on the floor in a circle, legs crossed and hands palms-up on their knees, with two exceptions. One was a Sluissi, who occupied her spot in the circle with her long tail curled up under her. The other was Master La'altac, who was in the center of the circle, levitating.

Narasi had meant to knock, but she spent so long staring that the Caamasi Jedi Master must have sensed her presence. He drifted to the ground, took a deep breath, and opened his eyes—a softer shade of blue than Narasi's, they found her and projected kindness and welcome. "Hello, Narasi. Won't you please come in?  Younglings, this is Padawan Narasi Rican."

Several of the Initiates waved or tried to bow while sitting, but one clambered to his feet and beamed. "Hi Narasi!"

Narasi grinned, distracted in spite of herself. "Hi Ayson."

He started toward her, arms open to give her a hug, but Master La'altac caught him gently around the midsection. "Remember your focus, Ayson."

"Yes Master," Ayson sighed, but he smiled at Narasi as he sat back down, and she winked at him.

"How may I help you, Narasi?" Master La'altac asked.

The question brought Narasi's mind back to focus, and she felt the smile slide off her face. "Actually, Master, could I have a word?"

The Caamasi studied her for just a moment before he rose with fluid grace. "Of course. Younglings, I want you to try meditating without me for a moment.  Remember, feel the Force, and no peeking!"

They all squeezed their eyes shut; a little Vurk boy apparently didn't trust himself to face the temptation, because he put his palms over his face. Narasi stepped into the hall; once Master La'altac had joined her, keeping the door open so the younglings didn't get too drunk on freedom, Narasi launched into a recitation of the message Tirien had received and their suspicions about it. Master La'altac folded his hands over his heart, listening without a word and studying the floor as if in deep contemplation.

He looked up only when she was done. "You and Tirien agree you should undertake this mission?"

"Yes, Master. And he went to get Slejux, too, if that's okay?"

He met her eyes, and Narasi thought of his as deep, clear pools on an island beach, gleaming in the sunlight; she felt she could see all the way to the bottom. "Is this personal for you, Narasi?"

"I…" Narasi paused, and when Master La'altac waited her out, just watching her with those big, soft eyes, she realized she had it wrong; it was not she who could see the depths of him. Swallowing, she admitted, "A little, yes. But I swear I won't let that interfere.  I'm a Jedi."

He looked at her, and his fuzzy ears twitched in a way Narasi didn't know how to interpret. "You are indeed. Even knowing you may be walking into a trap—even knowing it may be a trap for you, personally—you still wish to go, because any chance that innocents could suffer is too great a chance for you to take.  Small wonder your master is so proud of you."

His words warmed her, and Narasi smiled, but a fresh surge of guilt soured the expression. You had a chance to tell him, the little voice inside reminded her. It was a perfect opening, but no…

Master La'altac cocked his head, and too late Narasi remembered who she was dealing with. The Caamasi took her elbow with one hand; his fingers were strong, but his claws caused her no pain. "Your master is hard on you because he cares—because he must be. We have the misfortune to live in dangerous days; the galaxy will destroy those whom it can.  Tirien demands excellence of you so that you will not be destroyed, but thrive, and do exactly as you purpose to do now—protect those who can not protect themselves.  He knows your spirit will never shrink before that challenge, so he will equip you with the tools you need to face it head-on instead."

Narasi swallowed the lump out of her throat, giving the Caamasi Jedi's thin arm a little squeeze back. "Yes, Master. So…this mission…?"

He clasped his hands again and nodded. "I give you leave to go, and to take Slejux with you, if he is willing. Maintain contact with us so we know whether you're in need of rescue, though.  And if you discover anything related to this beacon signal, so much the better."

"Yes, Master." Narasi bowed. "Thank you."

"May the Force be with you, Narasi."

"And also with you, Master…oh…"

She slipped into the room, and a dozen squinted eyes squeezed shut again. Smirking, she knelt beside Ayson and kissed the top of his head. "You work hard 'til I get back!"

He grinned beneath his tightly-shut eyes. "Okay!"

Feeling empowered now that she had a plan and permission to execute it, Narasi took the Crescentia ' s corridors at a jog, weaving around other Jedi and vaulting over an astromech droid which whirled to beep at her in annoyance and pursued her for the better part of a minute before it gave up with a final warble of loathing. She got to the hangar bay and grinned when she heard the familiar hum of the Second Chance ' s engines warming up.

"You're in a good mood!" Yan Razam called.

"I'm a woman on a mission, Yan!"

"Go get 'em!"

"You had that much faith in me, huh Master?" Narasi called as she ran up the ramp.

"Master La'altac has a soft heart," Tirien called back from the cockpit, "for imperiled civilians and big, sad eyes both."

Narasi rolled the big, sad eyes in question as she slung her bag onto her bunk and jogged back to the cockpit. "Hey Slejux! You're coming?"

"I am," buzzed out of the faceless Jedi Knight's vocoder; he was leaning against the cockpit wall behind Tirien. "If your heroism dwarfs mine any further, I shall be forgotten entirely, and the thought was too much for my easily-wounded pride to bear. Though of course I would not dream of taking your seat."

Narasi stuck out her tongue at him as she slipped into the co-pilot's chair. "Glad to hear it! Ready, Master?"

"Get the ramp, would you?" he asked.

Narasi realized she hadn't hit the button on her way up. She stretched a hand toward the one on the panel…then stopped, smirked, and closed her eyes. Reaching out with the Force, working her way through the ship she knew as well as her own body by now, she felt the contours of the metal, the nooks and crannies along the bulkheads…there. She thrust the Force like an invisible slapping hand, and her sensitive ears heard the hiss of hydraulics as the ramp rose.

Opening her eyes, she grinned at Tirien, who rolled his eyes and said, "We'll call that 'practicing precision control' rather than 'too lazy to press a button that is literally within arm's reach'."

"Of course, Master."

Slejux's vocoder buzzed a chuckle as their departure clearance came through over the comms system. Shaking his head, Tirien said, "And away we go."