Shots Fired/Part 4

After a sleepless night of frustrated meditation and unpleasant considerations, Tirien Kal-Di returned to the High Council of the Jedi.

"Welcome back, Tirien," Tem-Fol-Rytil said. When Tirien only nodded, the Cerean asked, "I hope your meditation was productive?"

Rather than regaling the Council with the details, Tirien replied, "I've decided to bow to the Council's will, Master."

Some of the Council masters nodded, satisfied, but the Zabrak Tairni Tre'go leaned forward with a frown. "As opposed to what other course, Tirien?"

Tirien looked at her. Well, he thought, she asked. "As opposed to exercising the Right of Denial."

Tre'go recoiled, her face registering her shock, and she was not alone. Exercising the rarely-invoked Right would have required surrendering his lightsaber and his authority as a Knight of the Republic, becoming a Jedi in name only. It was a prerogative so rare as to be a historical footnote; Jedi who left the Order these days usually became Sith adherents, or simply stopped obeying the Council and did what they thought best without bothering with formalities.

Tirien saw in their expressions that the Council masters had expected him to see the error of his ways and come back meekly deferential to their wisdom. He had come back, and was deferring to their orders, but that was the best they were going to get.

"You…would leave the war?" Tem-Fol-Rytil asked, stunned. "Leave the service of the Order?"

"The thought occurred to me," Tirien answered, each word slow, determined to show no emotion, even if he had only partial success in following the Code and having no emotion. "I gave it consideration, but decided against it."

"Over this?" the Cerean pressed, frowning, puzzled. "Over a Padawan?"

"Master, may I speak freely?" Tirien replied. When Tem-Fol-Rytil nodded, Tirien continued, "I think this decision is a mistake, and the Seers are in error. I don't need a Padawan, and I certainly don't want one.  A Padawan will be in my way, waste my time, and imperil the work I do to protect the Republic."

His voice was getting heated; he forced himself to take a calming breath before continuing. "But I sense I'm supposed to do what I'm doing—to fight the Sith and serve the Republic. That's my destiny, however I reach it.  And I can't do it nearly as effectively as a civilian as I can while a Jedi.  So I will obey the Council's order, Master.  But please don't think I do so willingly."

When he finished, he crossed his hands into the opposite sleeves of his robe and waited. He could sense the Jedi Council was not pleased with his speech, but he kept his yellow eyes on Tem-Fol-Rytil, waiting for the Master's words.

The Cerean took his time, appearing troubled but deep in thought. "You must meet your Padawan, Tirien," he finally announced, fixing the Jedi Knight with a penetrating look. "But the Council will take your concerns under advisement. Proceed without reservation, but we will consult the Force to ensure its will is being followed.  If, after time, both you and your Padawan feel the arrangement is in defiance of the Force's will, we'll…reconsider then."

There might be a glimmer of hope after all. "Yes, Master," Tirien said with a half-bow of acceptance. Sighing, he asked, "So am I just supposed to wander the Temple until I find some Initiate who—"

"You misunderstand, Tirien," said Elata Cazars, a little sharply. "The Seers didn't predict only your destiny, but hers as well."

"Hers?"

"You've been assigned a specific Padawan, Tirien," Tem-Fol-Rytil explained. "Her name is Narasi Rican."

Tirien wasn't sure if it was better to not have to waste the time deciding which apprentice he didn't want least, or worse to have no choice in the matter at all. "Yes, Master."

"You might as well go and meet her now, Tirien," said Nawsa Arodion. "No time like the present."