Sins of the Father/Part 3

Tirien let Narasi cross the deck of the Crescentia ' s hangar bay at his side for almost twenty meters before he sighed and said, "Narasi…"

"What? Oh!" She turned and raised a hand, and Tirien felt her reaching out with the Force.

He caught her wrist and tugged it down. "Much as I appreciate you working on precision telekinesis, the Force isn't for covering your twelve when you forget to care for your pet. Go back and do it by hand."

She sighed and gave him an arid look, but tromped back to raise the Second Chance ' s boarding ramp. A combination of her wheedling and his promises to keep an eye on her had gotten the hangar chief to accept the presence of a gizka aboard the Crescentia, provided Gizmo was kept in the Second Chance at all times. Yan Razam and her starfighter squadron had been less than overjoyed at the arrangement, but Tirien, who felt the same way, was only so sympathetic.

Confident that his Padawan would not allow Gizmo to rampage through the hangar bay's banquet of wiring just because his back was turned, Tirien left her to it and made his way to his quarters aboard. The room was spare, but adequate to a Jedi's needs, and after the double bunk he shared with Narasi on the Second Chance, a droid closet would seem spacious. Tirien had just dug Master Fane's holocron out of his bag when there was a signal at the door.

"Enter."

It opened, and there stood Slejux Nissatak. Tirien stood and clasped the Melitto's forearm in greeting; even though Slejux's cilia-covered head was devoid of any features that could be called a face, Tirien felt no discomfort fixing his eyes there. He could feel Slejux's perception of him in a way that did not require eyes.

"Welcome home, friend." The mechanical buzz from Slejux's vocoder as it translated the incomprehensible sounds he would otherwise make marked it as a digital voice, but that, too, felt so natural that Tirien wondered how he had once found it atypical.

"Thank you." Tirien squeezed Slejux's arm, then let go. "You either have good timing or a better sense of the Unifying Force than me; I was just about to open Master Fane's holocron, but if you have time to explore Master Kwhuel's, I wouldn't turn down the opportunity."

"I'd enjoy that," Slejux agreed, "but I actually stopped in because the Council was looking for you."

Tirien checked his comlink and beacon. "I don't have any messages."

"Well, no, their search was rather fruitless, considering the fact that you weren't aboard at the time." The vocoder did a good job replicating his dry tone. "But it seemed somewhat urgent."

"I suppose I'd best follow up on that, then." Drawing out his comlink with a frown, Tirien said, "Narasi?"

"Yes, Master?"

"Meet me at the Council chamber."

"Holy mother of meteors, Master, they don't have something else for us already, do they? I haven't even put my bag down yet!"

"Consider it inspiration to raise the ramp next time," Tirien answered. "Council chamber, Narasi."

Her grumble was audible over the line, but she said, "Moving, Master."

Slejux walked with him along the hall. "I've made some progress distilling Master Kwhuel's wisdom into a form useful to the contemporary Order. I'd still appreciate your help, though."

"I'd be glad to provide it." Tirien nodded in the direction of the Council chamber. "Narasi asked some questions about the ethics of cloning I'd like to run by the holocron too."

"Did you put things in order on Columus?"

"As much as they needed ordering." Lowering his voice, he explained, "The High Council hoped the Columi might be able to engage in large-scale cloning of livestock to help deal with food shortages."

"Might they?"

Tirien grimaced. "They're a decade away from the kind of mass production we're talking about; their cloning facilities are state-of-the-art, but sufficient in scale to their needs, not the entire Republic's. And they seemed to take some offense at the notion of turning out nerfs from the same capsules that produce their colleagues."

Slejux nodded his faceless head. "Hence the discussion of reproductive bioethics?"

"She's more on the general principles of cloning."

"A complex enough issue for consideration," Slejux admitted. "But Columus won't supply the Republic's shortfall?"

"It couldn't even if it wanted to, but I don't get the sense they feel any civic obligation to turn their nurseries into farms, no."

"How long can we continue to feed the Republic?"

Stopping short of the Council chamber, Tirien said, "If the Core and Colonies agriworlds increase production and all the Republic's worlds obey rationing guidelines…we can hold out for a while. But with Saleej pushing on the Perlemian, Gasald holding at Allanteen, Aresh testing the north, Lakalt wandering around the south…we need a break somewhere."

"Well then, I have good news," said Slejux. "You're behind the times, I'm afraid. Lakalt is dead."

Tirien started. "What?"

"Before you become too ecstatic," Slejux cautioned, "he was deposed by his apprentice. His name is Darshkére, though we don't know anything else about him yet."

"Deposed and executed?"

"Unconfirmed, but we believe so. Certainly Lakalt's military has pledged its allegiance to Darshkére."

"Have we received any communication from him?"

"If we have, I wasn't on the call." As the sound of running bootsteps echoed down the corridor, Slejux gestured to the Council's door. "Perhaps that's why they were looking for you."

Narasi jogged up, her bag still slung over her shoulder. "Hey! Did you hear about—"

"—Lakalt?" Tirien gestured to Slejux. "Just now."

"Is that what the Council wants? Are we going after this Darshkére guy?  Oh, hey Slejux," she added as an afterthought.

Slejux clutched both hands over where a Pantoran's heart would be. "In future days, when I'm relegated to telling old war stories by a comfortable fire in the Archives, I shall be able to share with the younglings the glorious day when the Liberator of the South, the Savior of Sullust, noticed me before embarking upon the mission that would forever immortalize—"

"Oh shut up," she complained, "I missed you too."

Slejux's vocoder emitted a snort while Tirien reflected that he had once known a world in which a Padawan telling a full Jedi Knight to shut up would be considered odd. "We don't know what the Council wanted, only that they were looking for us."

Narasi pointed at the door. "So do we knock, or…?"

Before Tirien could answer, the door opened. Somba Kumb, an Ithorian Jedi Knight, stood in the door frame, and he bowed his T-shaped head. "Tirien."

"Somba." There had been little love lost between the two since Milagro, but Tirien returned the bow, conscious of the need to not let emotion cloud his actions.

From behind Somba came the voice of Multiqi La'altac. "Come in, Tirien, and Narasi too."

Tirien and Slejux nodded to one another, then Tirien followed his Padawan into the Council chamber. Tirien noticed Master Heyr Greech, the Crescentia ' s Battlemaster, had filled the fifth seat; it seemed Master La'altac had bowed to the reality that Master Kadych was not coming back. Apart from the Praxeum Council Masters, arrayed in their crescent to face those brought before them, Somba stood with the Klatooinian Knight Drekk Nogg.

Tirien and Narasi stood between Drekk and Somba to bow to the Council, and Tirien said, "I'm told you've been looking for us, Masters. We've just returned from Columus—"

He fell silent as Master Nori Godogon held up a hand. "A moment, Tirien." He looked at the other Council Masters. "Do we proceed with Somba and Drekk, or return to our original plan?"

"We can not continue to switch between plans," Master La'altac said. "Not without serious consideration."

Little Master Sarno's long ears twitched. "Time for lengthy deliberations we do not have."

Tirien looked at Drekk, who shrugged, and Somba, who continued to gaze at the Council Masters. Master Greech said, "Tirien and Narasi were chosen for a reason; a substitution for them, however well-considered, is still a substitution."

H'nemthe Master Thifrieu asked, "Tirien, how good is your Huttese?"

That seemed an odd way to start a mission to take down Darshkére and the remnants of Zirist Lakalt's empire. "Conversational, but not fluent."

"And yours, Narasi?"

"Uh…conversational too…it's just a less complicated conversation."

Tirien kept his face carefully composed even as Master La'altac chuckled once. When the Caamasi had stilled himself, he looked at his fellows. "There can be no mistakes here; we must meditate on the Force's will—"

"Time there is not!" Master Sarno insisted. "To the Sith, too, this invitation may have been extended; act, we must!"

"Agreed." Master Greech covered one fist with the other hand. "Delay is defeat."

"Why not send us all to…do whatever we're doing?" Narasi offered. "Three Knights and a Padawan could probably handle anything."

"Experience in this war suggests that confidence is misplaced," Master Thifrieu remarked.

Master Godogon snorted. "If refreshing…"

"To answer your question, Narasi," Master La'altac said, raising one clawed hand, "because we were not invited to send four Jedi."

"Invited?" Tirien asked.

Master La'altac looked at the other Council Masters, then said, "I think it best we confer privately on this matter. Please wait outside; this will only be a few moments."

When the door had closed and the four Jedi were alone in the corridor with Slejux, Tirien looked at Somba and Drekk. "Do either of you know what's going on?"

"Someone's going to attend an auction," Drekk said. When Tirien stared, Drekk added, "A Hutt's selling something."

"So this isn't about Darshkére, then?" Narasi asked.

Somba's long neck and head swayed side-to-side. "It is not."

"Intelligence says Darshkére is concentrating forces at Sullust," Drekk added.

Tirien remembered the plan to which Admiral Whoork had committed the Seventy-Second Battle Group, and which Tirien himself had not persuaded the Council to abandon. Would Darshkére, desperate to prove himself a better commander than Lakalt, stand and fight where Lakalt might have run? Was he planning a retaliatory campaign?

"Does he have enough of a fleet to take on the battle group?" Narasi asked.

"Lakalt spread himself so thin that it's difficult to assess Darshkére's real, total strength," Slejux said.

"Darshkére doesn't have hundreds of Jedi," Drekk argued.

Tirien crossed his arms. "Neither do we—not all at once. We get sent across the galaxy at need, it's not as if the Praxeum Council can recall us all and have us present in a matter of hours."

"But it can in days," Drekk said. "I've heard rumors the order's in the works already."

"If we can defeat Darshkére, maybe we should skip the auction," Narasi said.

Tirien sensed the reactions of the other Knights—Somba's disapproval, Drekk's noncommittal agreement, and Slejux's reservation—but the door opened before any of them could speak. "Tirien, Narasi, please come in."

No sooner had the door closed behind them again than Master La'altac said, "Please listen carefully, because we have very little time. We're sending you to Circumtore in Hutt Space, where Runganna the Hutt has invited the Republic to participate in an auction for a weapon two days from now."

"What kind of weapon?" Narasi asked.

"Unknown," Master Godogon said, "but she referred to it as possessing sufficient power to deter assault on any faction."

"Something defensive?" Tirien suggested.

"Unlikely," Master Thifrieu said, shaking his head. "Intelligence has limited information on Runganna, save that she's a Shell Hutt, but her name has previously been connected with the Republic's efforts to monitor groups attempting to manufacture proscribed nuclear devices."

Tirien felt a chill as Narasi asked, "Like a reactor?"

"No," he corrected, "like a bomb."

"This something else you wrote a paper on, Master?"

"I studied with the Demolitions Master, remember?" he said flatly. "I know about explosives."

Tirien had never seen a nuclear weapon used, or even been in the same room as one, but Suwo had, and his former master's description had stayed with him. ''It's a wonder the Sith didn't invent it; it's proof that the dark side doesn't always need Force users to get its way. We're talking about devastation on a metropolitan, even continental scale. Get one of them and you can vaporize any unshielded target; get enough and you can murder a whole world.''

"And if a nuclear weapon is in play, we need to get our hands on it before any other element does," Master Greech said. "Go to Circumtore, participate in the auction, play Runganna's games, but get that weapon."

Tirien considered. "Participate to what limit?"

"Judge that you must, when arrive on Circumtore you do," said Master Sarno. "Impossible to say it is without greater knowledge of the weapon."

"Who else has been invited?"

Master La'altac shook his head. "Unknown."

"We should bring Slejux," Narasi said. "He's good at—"

"Runganna was very clear," Master Thifrieu interrupted. "Each faction invited may send two representatives to bid, and hostilities between factions will not be tolerated."

Master Godogon crossed his arms. "You know, maybe that's the solution. This might be a time we'd do best to send Tirien and Slejux."

"Unusual that would be."

"Unusual, but not unheard of, especially given…"

Tirien was aware of the debate continuing and Narasi's big blue eyes darting from each speaker to the next, but as if he was watching it on a screen, or even visualizing a scene he was reading. The fullness of his mind withdrew from his physical surroundings as, without moving, he stepped out of the Council chamber—stepped outside time. His mind flowed down the Force to where the river of destiny divided; he journeyed down one stream with Slejux, and down the other with Narasi. He had some vague impression of Circumtore nearby along the way, but paid it little mind; the Force told him it had other concerns.

Along the path he took with Narasi were puddles and patches of darkness, flashes of blue-white lightning and fire, gleams of sunlight, and coils of mist. In the far distance, he saw Narasi, her Padawan braid shorn away, grown to womanhood and Knighthood both. Darkness shadowed that image of her like clouds passing before the sun; it faded in and out of clarity, a future that might never be. Along the path Tirien took with Slejux, there were other trials and dangers, victories and hopes, but at the end was darkness, an inky pool sucking the flow into a maelstrom.

"It has to be Narasi," Tirien said.

He came back to himself only after he had spoken, and had the impression he had interrupted someone whom it would be impolitic to interrupt. But Master La'altac sat forward, his eyes clear and deep. "Tirien, what did you see?"

"It has to be Narasi," Tirien repeated. Even as he closed his eyes, trying to fix details of his vision in his mind, they slipped away. But the key point remained. "I don't know why, I can't see clearly. But if I'm going, I'm taking Narasi with me."

The Council Masters traded meaningful looks; Master Sarno said, "Blessed have you been with the Force's guidance, Tirien. Unwise would we be to ignore it."

Master La'altac's eyes were narrowed in thought, but after a moment he nodded too. "I concur. Go, now.  May the Force be with you."

In the hall, Somba and Drekk had taken the hint, but Slejux had waited for them. To his Padawan, Tirien said, "Give me your bag. Run to the library and download all the information they have on Circumtore, Runganna, Shell Hutts, and nuclear weapons, then meet me at the Second Chance; I'll get her ready."

"On it, Master." She handed over her bag, then grinned. "Bye, Slejux."

"Farewell, Avatar of the Light Side, Designated Purchasing Agent of the Jedi Order—"

She ran off before Slejux got too much further, and Tirien rolled his eyes as he shouldered the bag and they set off down the hall together.

"Nuclear weapons?" Slejux asked quietly.

"Maybe. We'll know for sure when we get there."

"I suppose an offer to sell is better than a threat to employ."

"I'd prefer them to another round with the Candorian Plague."

Slejux's head angled his way. "That sounds like the end of an interesting story…"

"Remind me to tell it to you sometime."

As he retrieved his own bag, Tirien wondered whether Sorin Ruy'the could point the Order in the direction of nuclear weapon distributors, but even en route to Hutt Space there was no time to reach Kwenn Space Station before the auction—assuming Sorin was still at Kwenn to begin with. If Runganna was indeed trafficking in proscribed arms, though, it might be worth tracking Sorin down once they returned from Circumtore.

"I'll continue working with Master Kwhuel's holocron while you're gone," Slejux said.

The moment he said the words, Tirien paused, feeling a faint disturbance in the Force. A glance told him nothing, but the Force made plain that Slejux had sensed it too. "I think that would be wise. I sense we'll need its wisdom."

"As do I." Slejux brushed his hands slowly. "Do you wish to take it with you?"

"No," Tirien replied, sure of that. "I don't think Master Kwhuel will know much more of bargaining with Hutts than anybody else. But with this campaign against Darshkére coming—"

"—a little wisdom might go a long way in combatting the dark side," Slejux finished.

"Exactly."

"I'll work on it." Slejux extended a hand. "May the Force be with you, friend."

"And also with you."