Shots Fired/Part 2

"Did you find Agent Kolir?" asked the Bith Jedi Master on the Council, whom Tirien had learned was named Nulu Thini.

"Yes, Master, but too late," Tirien said, willing himself to remain calm. The man was dead, and nothing could change that. "Lord Aresh's men had a tight cordon around the Ciutric system. By the time I got to Agent Kolir he was already dead."

"Lord Aresh's people?" asked the holoimage of Elata Cazars from the field.

Tirien shook his head. "I killed the thieves and recovered the datacard. I didn't have a chance to search their ship, and they weren't carrying much, but they were being too stealthy for Lord Aresh's people in his own territory." He drew a breath, centering himself in the Force. "I think they must've been sent by the Council of Five."

The Jedi Council rarely cried out in shock or gasped aloud, and so Tirien was not surprised to see them simply look at one another, but their expressions were grave and he sensed their unhappiness with this news.

"Are you sure, Tirien?" asked Tem-Fol-Rytil.

"No," the Jedi Knight admitted. "But I'm confident."

The Cerean pondered for a moment, then bowed his great domed head. "Then I'm convinced. And we'll need to plan accordingly."

In the two years since Tirien's own knighting, old Ogan Broze had passed peacefully into the Force, and the High Council had elected Tem-Fol-Rytil its new Master of the Order. The Cerean's black hair was turning iron gray, and he seemed a little more strained, but he retained his penetrating look and soft voice.

Tirien, meanwhile, had become a Knight of an Order increasingly struggling to use its Consulars for their intended purpose. As the Sith pressed their advantage, every Knight and Master served as an ad hoc Guardian from time to time, and despite now three consecutive elections of Jedi Masters to terms as Supreme Chancellor, even Jedi Diplomats found themselves using aggressive negotiations more and more.

"What would you have me do, Masters?" he asked.

Some of the stress faded from a few faces. "You're a great Jedi Knight, Tirien," said the Gand, Kussam Bnodd. "You've disrupted as many Sith operations as any Jedi, but we do have other Knights."

Concurring murmurs and small, reassuring smiles. Tirien bowed, wondering what to make of an unexpected furlough to the Jedi Temple. He had spent even less time here as a Knight than when he was a Padawan to a Sentinel, and he knew few of the Jedi here well. But some time to meditate might be peaceful enough…

"Not just yet, Tirien," said Tem-Fol-Rytil as Tirien turned to go, and the Pantoran stopped. "Now may be the best time to raise another matter. One unrelated to the Sith, for a change."

Tirien returned to the center of the room, studying the curious looks of the Council members warily. He said slowly, "I'm at your disposal, Masters."

"The Council can not help but notice that you've not taken a Padawan learner, Tirien," said Loworr Dubb, a female Ithorian.

Tirien frowned. "I've only been a Knight two years."

"Time matters less than ability," Nulu Thini noted, "and you have proven an able Knight indeed."

Seeing the nods around the room, Tirien decided to drop the pretense. "I work best alone," he said flatly. "I don't want a Padawan."

"In these times, we need every capable Jedi in the field," insisted Master Cazars.

"Training a Padawan is a noble calling, Tirien," added Master Bnodd. "One of the most important ways a Jedi can contribute to the future of the Order."

"A future that is less secure as the Sith grow stronger," pointed out Master Nawsa Arodion, the Council's only Human member.

Feeling boxed in, Tirien raised his hands. "I'm not disputing the value of the Master-Padawan relationship," he said, "I'm just saying I won't take a Padawan."

There was an awkward silence, and after a moment it occurred to Tirien that all the Jedi Masters were looking at Tem-Fol-Rytil, unsure how to proceed. Tirien looked that way too and found the Cerean frowning at him. Tirien stood his ground, forcing himself not to speak to that expression of disappointment, until finally Tem-Fol-Rytil said, "It isn't a request, Tirien."

The Pantoran blinked. "What?"

"The Council is directing you to take a Padawan learner."

Tirien studied the Council masters one by one, stunned. He got awkward looks and frustrated ones, disapproving looks and perplexed ones. When he finally turned back to the Master of the Order, his own face showed only confusion. "Master, I was under the impression that the Jedi Council doesn't arrange pairings of masters and apprentices. That it lets the Force guide that bond.  And I haven't felt any—"

"Normally that's true," Master Cazars cut him off. "But from time to time, the Jedi Seers have perceived destinies binding Jedi together."

"Destinies requiring a certain arrangement of players," Master Dubb noted, her naturally glum-sounding double voice reverberating eerily.

"And that's what they've seen for you," Tem-Fol-Rytil finished.

Tirien grappled with the idea of having some half-trained Jedi tween dogging his heels and pressed his lips together so the masters wouldn't see his gritted teeth. He pictured some kid tagging along in the rain of Ciutric IV as he remained a shadow, or "helping" as Tirien coldly cut down two Sith pretenders. He tried to imagine having to account for an amateur swordsman while dueling a Sith Lord along the catwalks of Nar Shaddaa or spying on a meeting of Sith collaborators lurking in the Core Worlds.

It was ridiculous. His work demanded solitude.

"Masters, I hate to question fellow Consulars, but with the darkness in the Force, perhaps the Seers are mistaken," he said, trying to sound reasonable. "I've accomplished all my missions for two years alone. A Padawan will be in my way and only suffer from teaching I don't want to give."

"The Seers are very confident, Tirien," Tem-Fol-Rytil said firmly.

Tirien tried to focus only on him, ignoring the looks of concern from the other masters. He respected the Cerean, but also knew him to be obstinate when committed to a course of action. Trying to come up with another argument, Tirien knew better than to speak off the cuff to the Council; he remembered distinctly discussing with them the danger of wrong words. "Masters, I request a day to meditate on this," he said instead. "To…gather my thoughts."

"Of course," Tem-Fol-Rytil replied in a more conciliatory tone. "Trust in the will of the Force, Tirien. May it be with you."

"And also with you, Master."