Grim Tidings/Part 2

"I see that your practice was not an unrivaled success."

Tirien gave the holographic simulacrum of Jedi Master Giffis Fane a dry look as he rubbed his forehead; everybody's a critic. He wondered if it meant the holocron's gatekeeper was becoming more comfortable with him, or if it was simply responding to his own personality. "Not unrivaled, Master, no. But not a disaster, either."

"You should take pride in that," Fane said more seriously. "Deflecting blasterfire by hand is no mean feat."

"It was only on low power, of course."

"The power setting is irrelevant," Fane said, "except that you would not have survived practice at full power. When you've mastered the ability, deflecting any blaster bolt at any power will feel much the same."

Taking it under advisement, Tirien asked, "Is this a higher-level power, Master, or simply one at which few Jedi excel?"

Or bother with, he might have added. Yan Razam had merely been the last of several Jedi to point out that a lightsaber could deflect blaster bolts just as easily and with much less practice. Tirien wasn't sure why he wanted to master deflection with the Force alone; it had almost saved his life against Zygro years before, but he had muscled through without it in the end. Then again, the power to protect himself from Force lightning was tempting.

"I'm not sure I understand the distinction you've drawn, Tirien."

Tirien sought an example. "I consulted a holocron recorded by Master Deesra Luur Jada; he made mention of a power called morichro? The ability to slow the functions of the body into suspended animation?"

Fane was silent a moment, and Tirien sensed the crystalline structure of the holocron resonating. "I have no record of or information regarding this ability."

Was that true, Tirien wondered, or simply deflection of a different sort? Probably the former, he thought; Giffis Fane's holocron had not been shy about telling him when it thought some skill or power was more than he was ready for, but as far as he knew it had yet to lie to him.

"The Order restricts instruction on some powers to Jedi Masters, doesn't it?"

"That was the custom in my time, although it was a custom better known for the breach than the observance," Fane lamented. "In our struggle with the Sith, Knights became wards of their Padawans with less and less supervision, and they learned whatever techniques would keep them alive, from whatever Masters were near at hand. And knowledge of those abilities spread from Knight to Knight."

His disapproval was clear, but some of those circumstances sounded familiar, and Tirien wondered—would he hold back a power he had learned from another for fear of its corruptive power? From Narasi, certainly, but a fellow Knight? Would he make himself judge of a peer that way?

"The powers reserved to Masters require deep understanding of the Force," Fane continued, cutting through Tirien's musings. "But in truth, many such powers and disciplines are as limited as they are esoteric. Surely the ability to summon forth a tsunami from an ocean or call down a bolt of lightning from the sky are marvels to behold, and they might be of great value near choppy seas or beneath stormclouds, but what use are they far from the sea on a cloudless day?"

"I take your point, Master."

Fane studied him. "Powerful Jedi are often drawn to such grand manifestations of their power, for to master them at once brings and shows mastery of the Force on a deep level. But in your time, as in mine, a Jedi must think first of defeating the Sith and the threat they present to innocent beings.  Better to master thoroughly those powers applicable at all times than to delve into mysticism which could solve only one of a hundred problems."

Tirien was not sure he agreed with that, but he bowed his head. "I'll continue to practice, Master. 'Diverting the flow', right?"

"Yes. Divert the flow of energy through the flow of the Force, like sending a leaf down one of two forks in a stream.  One fork leads to you, and another past you.  You can not stop the current; water will always flow on.  But you can nudge the leaf, as the wind might brush it one way or the other.  Guide the leaf without opposing its progress entirely."

Tirien thought about those few seconds when the last shot had hovered in midair, jerking toward him but held at bay. He considered sharing the phenomenon with the holocron, but ultimately elected not to, sure that Fane would say it was better to master the core ability before worrying himself with strange twists on it. "Thank you, Master."

He lay on his bunk for a long time with the powered-down holocron cube resting on the fingertips of one hand, thinking, before he finally sat up to meditate. Two days of healing meditation had all but erased the burns on his torso and forehead—though clearly Fane had seen the evidence still there—but he thought he might work on them a bit more, and in the process seek guidance from the Force for the development of his powers. The last, lingering stings of the blaster wounds could unite with the Force that had sensed but not deflected them, the past merging with the future to show how failure could become success…

The bunk dropped away, and Tirien strayed through the Force's flow…

The buzz of his comlink brought him back. Blinking, he glanced at the wall chrono and saw the better part of an hour had passed. Wondering if his insights would be enough to guide more blaster bolt leaves down another stream, he drew out his comlink. Drekk Nogg had only sent a message, and as usual the Klatooinian was short and to the point.


 * S LEJUX IS BACK. 

Tirien sent an acknowledgement as he stepped out into the Crescentia ' s corridors. Stretching out with the Force aboard the praxeum ship always had the potential to overwhelm; as in the Temple on Coruscant, he was surrounded by Jedi, and here they were condensed into a fraction of the space. Eventually, though, his mind found its way through the maze of luminous lives and isolated the one he sought.

He rounded a corner and found Slejux standing in the middle of the corridor, hands clasped and tucked against his abdomen, a satchel hanging from one shoulder. His faceless head had no features to change, but Tirien sensed a ripple of amusement. "Much as physical fitness is important for today's Jedi, I thought it best to wait in one spot rather than have you chase me through the ship."

Tirien smirked. "An appreciated courtesy. Welcome back, friend."

They clasped hands briefly, then Slejux asked, "When did you return?"

"Less than a week ago. You can imagine Narasi and my despair at having returned after so long away only to find you gone."

"I shall labor to find an adequate penance for that lapse," Slejux said, his vocoder injecting gravity into every buzzing word even as he tweaked Tirien's mind with his wry amusement. "But speaking of penance, I should go to the Council before they assign me some too."

They walked side-by-side, and Slejux asked, "How was Darkknell?"

Tirien groaned. "Narasi and I spent the better part of a day telling the Council about it, so I hope you'll forgive me if I all I say on the walk to the Council chamber is 'complicated'."

Slejuxs vocoder emitted his buzzing, staticky laugh. "I could say much the same of Mustafar."

Tirien thought it best not to ask too many questions; he had noted the way Slejux's brown Jedi robe was blackened and charred at the ends, and a persistent layer of what looked like volcanic ash dusted the Melitto Knight's boots. Tirien recalled a happier, more innocent time before Darkknell when he had not been able to identify volcanic ash on sight. But he couldn't help asking, "But successful?"

Slejux reached into his satchel and produced a holocron. Green and purple, it had many hexagonal faces, but several square ones as well. Tirien could see the crystalline lattices inside, and even from a meter away he could feel its power. "Well done. Do we know whose it is?"

"Master Kwhuel."

"You're certain?"

"He was kind enough to inform me."

Tirien stopped, arching an eyebrow. "You accessed it?"

"Merely to confirm it was what I sought. I salvaged a handful of other records, but this was by far the most crucial find."

At the door to the Council chamber Tirien bowed, stepping back to allow his friend to enter alone. "I'll look forward to catching up later."

"Likewise, friend."

Narasi was still in the shipboard Padawan lessons, so Tirien returned to his room, opening up a datafile he had been reading the day before. He had written a few notes and comments in the margins when his door signal beeped, and he answered it to find Slejux there. The Melitto had discarded his singed robe, but was carrying Master Kwhuel's holocron.

"For Master Coreski?" Tirien asked.

Slejux shook his faceless head. "The Council obliged my request to study it further. They believe I have a rapport with Master Kwhuel other Jedi might not.  Neither of us…see the galaxy quite the same way as others, if you will."

Tirien wondered at the twist of humor in the Force; perhaps Kwhuel was a Miraluka. "I'll be interested to hear the results of your study."

"Actually," Slejux said, taking the seat at Tirien's desk, "I had hoped you might help me study it."

Tirien raised his eyebrows as he sat on his bunk. "I'm flattered, but I don't have any special rapport with Master Kwool…Kwee-yool…" Tirien's tongue stumbled over the name, and he frowned. "I'll have to work on that."

"I'm indebted to my vocoder," Slejux agreed.

With a single amused exhalation through his nose, Tirien added, "And I certainly won't claim to see the galaxy the way you do."

Slejux neither laughed nor answered the quip with one of his own. Instead, he laid his forearms on his knees, his fingers laced loosely together. "I sense there's enormous wisdom and potential in this holocron, Tirien. I don't wish to proceed recklessly; I'd rather have a fellow Jedi's perspective on it to help me comprehend the fullness of the knowledge it contains."

Tirien felt humbled, but also troubled. Ought he to have brought Slejux or another Jedi into his studies of Master Fane's holocron? Or did Master Kwhuel's have some deeper knowledge to convey? Morichro was not the only power Fane had denied knowing; all holocrons were priceless in their connection to the Jedi of the past and their teaching potential, but perhaps Slejux had something unique.

Tirien put his musings aside. "I'd be honored. When would you like to begin?"

"If you don't mind, I'd like to rest now," Slejux said. "I'll need to give my breathing tubes a thorough cleaning as well; Mustafar's atmosphere isn't exactly conducive to the respirationally-challenged Jedi."

"Isn't Li-Toran volcanic?"

"It is, but Mustafar's volcanoes elected to taunt me by spewing some different combination of gases into the air."

"How very inconsiderate."

Slejux nodded. "Quite. But perhaps you'll be available next rotation?"

"Next rotation it is."