A Certain Point of View/Part 10


 * B EEN PUNISHED ENOUGH, HUH ? A WESOME THAT YOU GET A CHANCE TO GO HOME FOR ONCE TOO .  I T CAN GET A LITTLE OVERWHELMING, BUT I TRY TO SEE IT FROM THEIR PERSPECTIVE .  F IGHTING D ARK J EDI'S ROUTINE FOR YOU, BUT THEY'D CUT THROUGH CIVILIANS LIKE DURASHEETS, SO IT'S MORE AMAZING TO THEM .  F IRST TIME I ASKED M ASTER C AZARS ABOUT IT, SHE SAID HEROES GIVE PEOPLE HOPE, AND HOPE IS THE BEST SHIELD AGAINST THE DARK SIDE—NOT THE OUTSIDE KIND SWINGING LIGHTSABERS, BUT THE INSIDE KIND CAUSING DESPAIR .


 * I 'VE MET THE D IKTAT A COUPLE TIMES NOW . P OLITICIANS LIKE TO LOOK LIKE THEY'RE BUDDY-BUDDY WITH J EDI—GOOD FOR PUBLIC IMAGE .  Y OU DON'T STRIKE ME AS THE TYPE TO GET SUCKERED BY A PLOY, THOUGH .


 * N EVER DONE RECRUITMENT, BUT FOR WHAT IT'S WORTH, THE O RDER'S DONE GREAT THINGS FOR YOU AND ME . H OPEFULLY IT WILL FOR YOUR KID TOO .


 * N OTHING NEW ON THE  C RUSADER.


 * –M ALI 

Tirien reread Mali's message yet again on the hotel balcony. Was he being suckered by a ploy? Narasi's intelligence had put him on guard, but in the Force that felt wrong. Chairman Korfadda certainly wanted to remain Chairman, but he had offered Tirien the command—not just of Pantora's defense forces, but potentially of the entire sector. As he looked over the spokes of the city's grids, with their red-leafed gardens rippling in the cool afternoon breeze and lit up like a sea of fire by the setting sun, he tried to grapple with the idea of all of this being his to command—his to protect and safeguard. Unwillingly, he imagined defensive fortifications and shield generators, and saw closer to the horizon a spot of solid ground before the marshes where a small Jedi Enclave might be raised—close enough to the capital to respond instantly at need, but outside enough to find peace in contemplation and not be totally attached…

It had a cool, pristine beauty, this homeworld of his. He understood how his people could be attached to it, and not just because it was pleasantly cool. Attachment was a vice, of course…but could anyone really expect all Pantorans to simply occupy this world without living in it, enjoying it? That was the Jedi way, true; they were called to a higher spirituality. But not all beings were called to be Jedi, and the hundreds of millions of Pantoran lives were no less valuable just because they hadn't had the good fortune for their homeworld to be in the Republic. They deserved to be protected.

But then, Republic citizens deserved to be protected too, and the Republic was the surest bulwark against the Sith advance. Inability to make tactical sacrifices led to won battles and lost wars; Master Z'dar had said that once, and Mali had a similar philosophy. Tirien himself had only months before used Pantora first as an example of why Corellia first was wrong.

But on the other hand, a Jedi could not casually dismiss the value of lives just because they were tactically insignificant…

Tirien slid his hands up his face to run his fingers through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut beneath his palms. He wasn't sure how long he sat there, but he only moved when the balcony door slid open with a quiet zhwuum.

"Okay, Master." Narasi's tone suggested she was about to propose a raid on Korriban with only the Second Chance. Tirien started; he had not sensed her approach. "I have to tell you—"

Narasi stopped abruptly when his surprise registered with her, her big blue eyes widening. "Are you okay?"

Was he? Tirien wasn't sure, although being so lost in thought that he couldn't sense his own apprentice three meters away didn't bode well. "Sit down, Narasi. I have something to tell you, too."

She took one of the other balcony chairs, and though she had her hood up, Tirien noticed she wasn't shivering, and he felt a touch of pride. He told her what had transpired in the Chairman's office, and by the time he was done her mouth was hanging open. It took her a moment to close it.

"What were you saying yesterday about being a Gray Jedi team?" Tirien asked with a dry smile.

In a small voice, she asked, "…Lord?"

"So he said."

"Of…of the whole planet?"

"Of the whole sector, to hear the Chairman tell it," Tirien said.

She frowned suddenly. "Remember what I said yesterday about him?"

"Pressure to look like he's doing something." Tirien nodded. "The thought occurred to me. But if all he wanted was to hold onto power, he wouldn't offer it to me.  I'm sure he does want to keep his position, but I sense this is more than just that.  They had given this honest thought."

"So…what are we gonna do?"

Tirien opened his mouth, but found himself briefly short of a reply. We. Even as he mused on the notion of absconding from his duty as a Jedi Knight to guard one world in the Rim, Narasi spoke of them as a team. Perhaps it was only because she hadn't gotten around to considering her own duty yet, but Tirien was touched nonetheless.

"It's impossible, of course," Tirien said, wishing he felt the conviction he was forcing into his voice. "I'm a Knight of the Republic. My place is there."

"Well, yeah…" Narasi said, clearly still struggling with it. "But what about them? What if Lady Hadan does invade, or…"

She gritted her teeth, her fangs briefly visible. "Or what if the Zygerrians attack?"

Tirien grimaced. "They'd stand little chance against the Slave Empire," he admitted, "and next to none against Hadan. But the same is true of every world in this sector."

"This Sujimis Collective thing…maybe it could work."

"Maybe," Tirien allowed. He stood, walking to the edge of the balcony and looking down at the city below. Narasi joined him after a moment.

"I know I'm just a Padawan," she said. "You're the master, but…you can talk to me."

Tirien looked at her sideways, then back. Mali had not given him any advice for a situation like this, but that did not justify burdening a Padawan with this, much less a fifteen-year-old…except that, whatever she might be in a better world, Narasi really wasn't a child. She was a Jedi, and she deserved to be treated as one. "It's strange for me, being here," he said, slow and uncomfortable. "Seeing a whole planet of people who look like me, share my heritage, look at me as someone who can—who should—protect them."

"I know it doesn't matter," he added, then patted his cheek. "This doesn't matter. Flesh and bone, the physical body isn't what defines us, it's the Force…"

"Then why do you have those tattoos?" Narasi demanded. Tirien gave her a sharp look, and she flinched. "I'm sorry, Master, I don't want to pry…"

"Yes you do," Tirien complained, but he sighed. His mental turmoil had brought his emotions too close to the surface. "But no, I'm sorry, that's a fair question. I got these when I was nineteen."

"Still a Padawan, then," Narasi said, more to herself. She looked at him. "But why?"

"At first I thought I'd go without," Tirien said. "Our culture views it as—"

"—a rejection of your heritage?" Narasi suggested.

Tirien raised an eyebrow. "You've been doing your research."

She looked awkward, but Tirien went on without pushing it. "I thought that was the better approach for a Pantoran Jedi—to show that my allegiance was to the Republic and the Order, not to my family or my species. I talked to Suwo about it.  Several times, actually.  He told me I was being prideful—that by doing that, I was trying to make a statement.  Being a Jedi isn't about making a statement, he said, it's about serving.  A Pantoran with tattoos is a normal Pantoran; a Pantoran without stands out."

"Was that the only reason?" Narasi asked.

Tirien drew a breath through his nose, released it. "Maybe not. I learned about my culture in the Archives, and it…fit me.  Independent, protective…perhaps a little proud; I could admit that about myself.  Being a Pantoran doesn't define who I am, but it is part of who I am."

"Like being a Zygerrian?" Narasi suggested, the hint of a smile on her lips.

Tirien gave her a one-sided smirk. "Something like that, yes. So I got my family's tattoos.  They remind me that I didn't just spring into being out of nowhere; I have a history and a culture, even though my life belongs to the galaxy."

Narasi nodded, lost in her own thoughts until she asked, "So, since your family is part of you, maybe you should see them while you're here."

Tirien laughed mirthlessly. "I think that's the last thing I need."

"Why?" Narasi asked, looking perturbed.

"Narasi, I've been thinking about what the Chairman said all day. It's a wrong idea, I know that, but it's…tempting, too, in its way.  We fought hard at Taanab, but what came of it?  Taanab's still ours, but Gizer and Lantillies haven't been retaken.  We fought so hard at Milagro, and we have almost nothing to show for that.  But here?  Maybe a single Jedi could make a difference here—"

"Two Jedi," Narasi said. Tirien looked at her, and she braced herself. "Master, if you're staying, I'm staying with you."

"This isn't your homeworld, Narasi."

"But you're my master. Good and bad, thick and thin, Core or Rim.  We're a team."

Tirien was torn; part of him wanted to reprimand her for her vacillating commitment to the Republic, while another part was deeply moved. He compromised on a sad smile, and she smiled back; they seemed to understand each other. Moving on, he said, "Maybe one or two Jedi could make a difference here; the Sujimis sector's small enough that it's not an insane idea. But it doesn't end there."

He paced away. "Tarni Hadan's a capable Sith from everything I've heard, but if she were truly powerful, she'd be as much a threat to the Empire as Valin Aresh is. Instead, she can't even topple the Hutt kajidics.  I'm a powerful Jedi, Narasi, and I can be honest enough to say I'm an able swordsman.  If she came here to Pantora I could kill her, and how much would the galaxy be improved with one fewer Sith faction."

He looked at his apprentice. "Are you seeing the problem yet?"

She crossed her arms thoughtfully. "Attachment?"

"Yes, definitely that. But also pride.  Everything on this planet is a pitfall of pridefulness for me.  Requests for interviews, free docking bay, free hotel—the throne of a planet that hasn't had a monarchy in three thousand years!"

Narasi looked conflicted, and she worried her lip with one of her fangs. Tirien sensed her emotions warring with each other. "What is it?"

"Master, did you…can I be honest?"

Tirien raised his eyebrows. "Go on, speak freely."

"I think…maybe you're looking at it the wrong way?"

Her hesitance made it a question, but Tirien could sense she believed it, and he crossed his arms. "Explain."

"Well, you're thinking about how it makes you feel, and your temptations, but…Master, I don't think these people are doing these things because they're all secret dark siders. They're out here without the Republic, they're afraid, and…they need somebody to make them feel safe.  And knowing you're out there does that.  And they're also so out of the way that they never really make a contribution to the galaxy…except that you do.  You make them feel like they're a part of things—like they're important."

Tirien was silent for a moment, then half-smiled as he tossed her his datapad. "I think you and Mali have two ways of saying the same thing."

She read his message, then looked up and nodded. Tirien paced away, blowing out a breath. "So it is prideful, but not the way I thought. I'm making it about me, not about them."

Narasi nodded, though she looked very uncomfortable doing so. Tirien smiled. "Narasi, I'm your master, and it's my job to teach you. But the learning between master and Padawan goes both ways—no matter what I teach you, if I don't learn from you too, I'm still doing something wrong.  Yes, be respectful, but never be afraid to be honest with me."

Narasi smiled back, although she still looked tentative; Tirien assumed the idea might take some getting used to. "So…we're not staying? You're sure?"

Lord Kal-Di…it sounded disturbingly Sith, now that he thought of it. He looked out over Isalius. "There's a part of me that wants to. I feel at home here.  We could stay here, build up a local force able to repel the slavers and the Sith.  Create our own little Jedi Order.  Meet my family and ask them all the questions I'd like to, see what they've become since I left.  But that's attachment, and desire—it's about me again.  If I really want to help my people, and I do, the best way to do it is through what we've been doing—fighting the Sith.  Tribalism won't win this war; the only way to defeat the dark side is to burn it out, root and stem, and that requires facing it head-on, not waiting around in fear that it might target something I care about."

"But I'll tell you this," Tirien added, giving Narasi a nod. "We're done sitting on the Crescentia, waiting until we feel bad enough about Milagro. We need to give the Jedi Masters respect, and I intend to from now on, but all Jedi need to participate in this war; all these people who can't fight for themselves are depending on us.  And I'll tell the Praxeum Council that—respectfully—when we get back."

Narasi finally managed a genuine smile. "No Gray Jedi fighting team?"

"We're staying in the family," Tirien confirmed. "But there's one more thing we need to do here."

"What's that, Master?"

"Ayson Sokos. I want to see his father again." Tirien cocked his head. "Is that what you wanted to tell me? Did you find something out?"

Narasi hesitated for a long moment. "Yeah…yeah, that was it, Master. You might want to sit down for this…"