Twist of Fate/Part 6

Rhosa led Tirien to an outer corridor of the battlestation's weapons ring, where curving transparisteel viewports gave them a panorama of the stars. Faint spots of reflection marked the ships in orbit around Gizer. Rhosa walked up to the transparisteel, laying a hand on it and looking out with a smile.

"Saying hello to the rest?" Tirien asked.

The Omwati laughed and drew her hand back. "Just making sure they're okay. My Padawan is with them."

Tirien raised an eyebrow. "You have an apprentice?"

She nodded. "Arlya and Farwel do too. We thought it was safer to keep them on the Crusader until we knew what would come of Master Shadeez's talks with Admiral Arstyn."

"You feel protective of them, don't you?" Tirien guessed. "Not just your apprentice, all of them. Even General Shadeez."

Rhosa chuckled once. "I suppose I do. I've been using my gift for years now, long before I became a Knight.  I've gotten used to them relying on me."

"I see why they do. I didn't know there was anyone left like you in the galaxy."

"You'll make me blush," Rhosa teased. Tirien wasn't quite sure how to respond to that, and Rhosa laughed at the look on his face. He chuckled once, but her laughter didn't wound; she had a remarkable ability to put others at ease.

After a moment, she leaned against the transparisteel again. "This is my favorite view here."

"How long have you been aboard?"

"Only a day or two, but I like to wander, and not many soldiers seem to come out this way." She half-smiled without looking at him. "I love space—being reminded that there are so many worlds out there that I'll never see, so much I'll never do. It keeps me humble.  Don't you think?"

He joined her at the viewport. "I prefer hyperspace. Infinite possibilities…it makes me think of the Force."

Their eyes met, and Tirien thought again of how deep hers were. He almost said it aloud, but caught himself at the last minute, startled by the instinct. Did she have this effect on everyone? Or was it an instinct born of the Force—recognition of a kindred spirit?

"You're a Jedi Consular?" he asked.

Rhosa shrugged. "Does it matter? I'm a Jedi.  I'm what the Force and the people need me to be, whether that's picking a lock, dueling a Sith, or seeing the future."

Having spent his entire Jedi career under the shadow of the Sith, Tirien could not dispute that outlook. He smiled wistfully. "Reminds me of my master."

"I got the philosophy from mine," Rhosa admitted.

Tirien's smile distorted a little. "'Master' Shadeez…I'm not sure what the Council will make of that."

"He can't be the only Jedi to assume the rank," Rhosa chided. "Besides, you wouldn't believe how many Jedi we've met who were knighted by their masters because contact with Coruscant is becoming a luxury. If a Knight can make a Knight, why can't the Force make a Master?"

"The Jedi need direction to defeat the Sith," Tirien insisted. "Any Jedi, even a group of Jedi, no matter how powerful, will always be stronger with focus than going a hundred different ways, putting out fires but ignoring the arsonist."

"And that is how the Order is needed," Rhosa answered. "Not by policing ranks and running the Order like an army, but by seeing the whole of existence and how the Jedi can undo evil."

Tirien frowned, struck by a sudden realization. "You're in favor of this, aren't you? Shadeez reuniting with the Republic."

The Omwati looked out at the stars, and she was quiet for a moment. "I'm a Knight, not a Master, but I know what I can do, Tirien. I know I can help people.  I've seen all the things I've done so far, all the times we won when we could've lost—should've lost.  Master Shadeez is right, the Jedi need to help the people—but there are so many more people I could be helping."

"Then help me convince him!" Tirien said. "It's obvious they all respect you; a word from you will do more than a thousand from me."

"I've already done more than I should have," Rhosa whispered.

Tirien stared for a moment before his face became entirely expressionless. "Nineteen years and no one could ever get in with his organization, and now when he's joining forces with a Republic admiral we're suddenly privy to it—not just what, but where and when, too. It was you.  You tipped off Republic Intelligence about this meeting."

Rhosa closed her eyes, leaning her head against the viewport; her feathery hair spread out like miniature wings. "You heard about Ord Mantell?"

Letting her shift the topic, Tirien nodded. "I did. We won; Darakhan was there, and a few other Jedi."

"But at what cost?" Rhosa asked. "How many thousands died who could've lived? And not just at Ord Mantell, but Ithor, Qat Chrystac, Malastare, Iktotch…"

"There's only one of you," Tirien pointed out, laying a hand on her shoulder. His boldness surprised him, but her introspection invited commiseration, and she did not shrug off his hand as she had Jylo's. "You couldn't have been at all of them."

"But I could be at the next one," Rhosa returned. She did not seem lost in regret, but focused. "Lord Lakalt is a tyrant and a monster, but he's not the Council of Five. I sense I could do more good here.  And even if I wasn't there, you said it yourself—Mali Darakhan and a handful of Jedi won Ord Mantell.  We have more than a handful."

"Then help me convince General Shadeez," Tirien insisted, squeezing her shoulder gently. "If he won't listen to you, there's no chance he'll listen to me."

"That's where you're wrong," Rhosa remarked, turning to smile at him. "I know he respects me, but he's still my Master in many ways—he's all our Master. But you're the voice of the Jedi Council, and you can speak for them."

"I'm not sure that helps," Tirien hedged, drawing his hand back, but Rhosa laughed.

"He's afraid of being locked up in the Temple—not as a prisoner," she added, seeing the look on Tirien's face. "At least not the way you're thinking. He…how did he put it.  'The old nerfs can't run as fast, so they keep them in the pen instead of the field so the kath hounds don't get them'."

She smiled fondly, then said, "He doesn't want to be thought of as an old Jedi Master who's only good for teaching younglings and telling war stories."

Tirien stared at her. "With his victory rate, I can't imagine him being kept from the field for…" He trailed off, watching the way Rhosa's compelling eyes narrowed, waiting for him to get it. "…except it isn't just his victory rate, is it? If you were sent to different places…"

"Exactly," she whispered. Turning, she strode down the corridor, and Tirien followed a few paces behind. "He's led us this long, and lost some of us along the way—not just Knights, but soldiers too. He feels responsible, and he worries what will happen if I'm where the Republic needs me, but not where my brothers and sisters need me, and he's languishing in the Jedi Temple teaching Form I."

"He told you all this?"

She shook her head; her hair gleamed in the light as it moved. "I can sense it, the way he speaks of the Republic if we bring it up. I think…I think he wants to be part of the Order, but only if he can keep doing what he's doing.  He needs a Jedi who can tell him what he needs to hear, in truth, to bring us all home."

Tirien considered his mandate from the Reconciliation Council, wondering how much authority he really did have to speak and decide on their behalf. He wondered if a lone Jedi Knight should be speaking for the entire Jedi Order and anticipating the decisions of the High Council. Consular he might be, but he had hoped diplomacy would come with a little more guidance. He remembered warning Narasi about the consequences of one wrong word and wanted to laugh at his own presumption.

Stepping up behind Rhosa, he said, "I can't promise you'll all stay together; Jedi serve the Order, we go where we're needed. But warriors are needed in the field, old and young.  I can't promise you'll all survive, either, but I can say the same thing about myself, and Narasi.  One of my teachers told me that none of us is promised tomorrow, so we'd best do something useful today."

Turning to face him, Rhosa reached out to take his forearms in her hands, and he took hers reflexively; his fingers encircled her narrow arms. Her eyes were intense, and Tirien felt himself drawn to them as if they had their own gravity.

"We're Jedi Knights," she said. "We don't fear the future. But you can help us convince Master Shadeez to make a better one."

"I'll do what I can."

Rhosa squeezed his arms; it was impossible to look away from her. "I know you believe in the Order and the Council, Tirien, and I see why. But we believe in Master Shadeez, and he believes in his course.  You're asking him to take a leap of faith; please have faith in him."

Tirien feared he was taking a running Force leap from the starting point the Council had given him, but inaction served no one; the Council surely expected him to do something. "A list of demands isn't diplomacy," he admitted. "If we can just make a beginning…"

Rhosa loosed her grips on his arms, and he let her slide through his fingertips, but she caught his hands and held onto them. She nodded gravely, but there was a touch of hope in her expression, and it occurred to Tirien Kal-Di that perhaps he had made a beginning already.