The Exile and the Choice

The Exiled, Prologue: Exile, Part I

A room of Jedi on Coruscant filled with words as the noise of the planet hushed to listen.

Revan and Malak, who organized this gathering in a private chamber of the Temple, stood in the center of the circular auditorium. Those who came, who were at least a few dozen in number, perhaps over a hundred, were gathered around in the seating area, listening to the two knights' words. A wide diversity of Masters and Knights - and even some Padawans - were collected. Iridonians, Twi'leks, Rodians, humans, of course, and a few other races. But among them was one Jedi in particular - a Knight, one whispered to be given a Padawan sometime soon, who sat in rapt attention. He had light brown hair, and a youthful air. He was skilled, but not overly experienced.

This Jedi - this man - had a choice to make.

In the ancient tradition of old Jedi gatherings in private - from the time of the Great Schisms, when the Dark Jedi were first cast out of the Order - those who were granted the authority to speak to the gathering held their lightsabers up to show that they were the focus of the moment. Malak's blue blade glowed, adding its light to the dim ambience. Only the center, where they stood, was directly lit. The Jedi gathered sat in shadows, and listened to words of war.

"As we speak, hundreds of people in the Outer Rim are dying. Worlds are burning. By the time we walk away from this room, the Mandalorians will have put a hundred thousand men to their graves and enslaved thrice as many children - if not more." Malak reported. His voice had always been somewhat thin and airy and quiet, but the words it carried were like ashes on a light wind. The Jedi were trained to resist strong emotions and passions, but they were also trained to have compassion and empathy. The thought of such death riled the Padawans, and even some Masters seemed to shift uncomfortably. The youthful Knight felt a surge of something - not anger, but drive. He did not feel enraged or bitter, only determined to do something. He listened as Malak went on.

"The Republic is doing everything in its power to combat this threat, but at this moment, and likely every moment after, it isn't enough. They lack leaders and manpower. The Mandalorians outman, outgun, and outmatch them. For every Mandalorian that fights, three or more Republic soldiers fall. They are warriors and killers, and they will fight and slaughter until they have torn the Republic down from Coruscant itself. And perhaps then, the Council will decide to act." Malak continued. Many Jedi, including the young Knight, were distraught by the Council's decision not to intervene in the war - as keepers of the peace and protectors of the Republic, it made little sense to many that they would allow war to rage and the Republic to suffer. But the Council's will was law in the Order - to defy it would be to risk being expelled from the Order. And many Jedi put faith in the wisdom of the Council. So it seemed likely to everybody that the Jedi would largely remain out of the war.

Until Revan and Malak decided that the Jedi Code didn't require obedience.

The audience in the chamber looked around and murmured among themselves, discussing Malak's words. He went on.

"It is the Council's decision that we should wait here, in our temples and enclaves and sanctuaries, and allow the war to rage. It is the Council's decision that patience and forethought is more valuable than the innocent lives we were sworn to protect. It is the Council's decision… but not ours." Malak continued, but now, Revan stepped forward, and the blue of Malak's lightsaber disappeared, and the bright yellow of Revan's own blade shot forth, basking the room in its golden light. The murmurs stopped. Revan had a presence that demanded attention, and his words rung of authority.

"Malak and I have chosen to disregard the Council's wishes for us to remain out of this war. We will respect the wisdom of the Council and the loyalty of those who stay and obey, but we respectfully defy that loyalty to serve a higher call: The call to arms in the Rim. As Malak has said, innocent blood, and the blood of soldiers desperately trying to save those innocents, is being spilled by the barrel. We, as Jedi, have a duty - an obligation - to stop that bleeding. To free the children. To save the mothers and fathers. To give hope to the hopeless. We should, and must, and will, combat the darkness of the Mandalorians, as the Jedi have fought the darkness of the galaxy since our Order's birth. Already, thousands of our brothers and sisters answer our call across the galaxy. It is here, now, that we take our plea to all of you - the Masters and Knights who show the most promise to serve as the leaders of our armies and commanders of our forces. You are needed out there, on the field, my fellows. You are needed where the fight is. Where the blood is. Where the enemy is." Revan declared. The hall echoed with his words. The congregation stared at him raptly. The young Knight felt his inner warrior's spirit stir.

"You are needed." He repeated. "Will you answer our call?"

With that, he switched his lightsaber off, and the room was plunged back into its dusky lighting.

A few moments passed. The room was in silence, the Jedi looking around at one another, waiting to see who the first would be to answer Revan's words. The young Knight wished to speak first, but hesitation and nerves held him back. To speak with total honesty and pledge himself would be so final, so total. He was sure of himself, but… not enough so.

The first to answer, then, was an Iridonian Master. His saber shot forth emerald green light, and the room turned to see him. Master Kabral Kei-ran, the young Knight knew.

"You call us to war - and with great justification - but we must consider the results of our actions. The Council will be enraged, and who knows - we may only march to our deaths, and the Order will be left thinned and unprepared for when the Council does act. I urge you, brothers and sisters, serve the innocent and protect the weak, but be mindful in your actions."

The Jedi considered this - and the young Knight found himself more hesitant. The Council may need every Jedi available for when they move - would he be doing more harm to the war by going now? The green receded, and at once, a yellow blade shot up a ways to Kei-ran's right. This one was human - Kanri Ro, a Jedi Knight renowned for his skill as a Sentinel.

"Master Kei-ran brings valid points. But a Jedi's life is sacrifice. If the Council will not act to end the Mandalorians now, then the threat will only grow more powerful. Not even every Jedi in the galaxy could withstand the might of a Mandalorian Empire besieging the Core. So we must act now, immediately, before the threat grows too great, and while the Republic still has an army for us to assist."

The words of Sentinel Ro were considered among the congregation. The young Knight was influenced once more by the words brought forth - words he was much more eager to hear. "A Jedi's life is sacrifice", a saying which he had not heard before, resonated especially with him, and it was a saying which he could sense would remain with him for some time. Ro's blade receded, his words given, and very quickly another blade, this one blue, rose up, and the famed Twi'lek Guardian, Mala Kamala, Master to many of the other Guardians in the room, presented himself to the assembly.

"Kanri Ro, your former master was a dear friend of mine. He and I disagreed on many things, and I, admittedly, feared for your training, believing that your spirit would be doused by his reactive teachings. But it pleases me to see that your words still carry the same youthful wisdom as they did when you were but a youngling. If what our hosts say is true - that, already, our brothers and sisters on worlds away from Coruscant are gathering under their banner - then they will need leadership. They will need men and women able to inspire and organize. They will need us. My fellows, if the words of our brothers is true, then they have an army to march with as things stand. If we refuse to take the command they offer, we will allow those who march without us to march to death, and their blood will be as much on our hands as the Mandalorian's."

Master Kamala returned his blade to his belt, and now many Knights in the room - mostly the Guardians, the young Knight noticed - were nodding approvingly. Master Kamala carried much sway over his sect, almost as much as Master Kavar himself. Another blade shone out, this time, green. Counselor Kekil Maro, a respected Knight among the most peaceful of the Jedi sects, stood, and the young Knight waited to hear the words "peace", "obedience", and "patience" be drilled into his skull for the hundredth time by the woman. She was a companion of his repeatedly, and they had debated the Council's decree of nonintervention since it had first been given.

"Many know of the pursuit of nonviolent resolution which the Jedi Counselors are known for. Many know that my sect desires to seek solutions of peace and mutual understanding. Many of my brothers and sisters of Counselors have spoken in defence of the Council, often at ends with our fellows, the Guardians."

The young Knight saw many people reach for their own lightsabers, preparing already to be the first to speak up after Counselor Maro. He gripped his own hilt - he knew her best, and he already knew how to counter her words of peace.

"But, this is not a time which peace can reign over."

Confused glances were exchanged - the young Knight relaxed his grip on the hilt of his lightsaber. Was she doing what he thought she was doing?

"The Mandalorians are a proud people of warriors. They were once led by the Sith, as many of you know. They thirst for battle, hunger for war, and seek strife and combat wherever they go. To them, atrocity is sport. To them, death is an everyday aspect of life. To them, slaughter is honor. They will hear no talk of peace, no words of negotiation. They will kill, they will destroy, and raze and pillage and burn, until they have taken the galaxy for themselves. Therefore, I urge you all - take up arms. Raise up your lightsabers, as did the Knights of old, and strike at the darkness."

Just as Kekel's blade retreated, another green blade erupted, and an elderly Master Kokoo Puuncho stood, an old Kel Dor who had trained a dozen Counselors - including Kekel. His word carried great weight among Counselors, and other Jedi always respected their seniors' wisdom. The young Knight could tell that Master Puuncho was displeased with his former Padawan's change of stance, and could sit silent no more.

"Listen to you all! Discussing treason and betrayal as if though you were all conspiring Sith Lords! The Council has given their strictest of orders to leave the war be - the Jedi are peacekeepers, not warriors. It is our duty to defend the defenseless, not battle the attackers. Such is the way of the Sith! If we go to war against these Mandalorians, we risk exposing ourselves to the dark side of the Force, and giving into our anger and hate! This, I cannot allow. I expected the youth of our Order to grumble and moan when denied their chance at battle, but to rise up in open defiance of the Council, and among their number, my fellow Masters! It brings me shame and sorrow to see even you, Kekel, my own Padawan, speaking such… such heresy! And furthermore -"

At this point, although the Master had not sheathed his blade, two more erupted. To draw one's lightsaber in such a meeting while another was speaking was to challenge them and their right to speak - insulting, at the least, and grounds for a duel at worst. Master Puuncho, obviously, was not one to challenge. As a Jedi Master and an elder, such an act would be viewed by traditionalistic Jedi to be impudent (though younger Jedi may view it as only fair). But with two sabers drawn, those who had challenged his words would decide between the two of them who would be the prime challenger and who merely backed his challenge.

One blade was yellow, and shone its golden light out once more - Revan himself had stepped himself forward to dispute what the Master was saying. The room stared at him, but quickly, their eyes shifted to see the other blade which had erupted. A blade not too unique, at that - yellow in color, as well, yet it was the blade of a Jedi with a great destiny lying before them. A Jedi who would alter the course of history. A Jedi who commanded as much respect as naturally as Revan himself.

The golden blade of the young Knight.

Revan and the Knight looked at one another, noticing that they had both drawn their blades. The room seemed to hold its breath, waiting to see who would do what. The Knight was sure that Revan would not back down, and that the wisest choice would be to lower his blade down from a ready to an idle stance to show he was merely backing. But just as his stance began to relax, something unexpected happened: Revan relaxed into an idle stance.

"I back our brother's challenge."

The room's eyes all laid on the young Knight. Known as a Sentinel with talent in both combat and the Force, and with a knack for persuasion and technology, his golden crystal showed his preference for the versatile nature of the Sentinels. Nobody knew what this Knight was going to say - obviously, he would stand against Master Puuncho, but what he would advocate was unknowable. But with Revan backing him, anything he said would carry authority twofold. The Knight looked around, then focused his attention on Puuncho.

"Master Puuncho," He started, "You say it is our duty to defend the defenseless. Who, I beseech of your great wisdom, is more defenseless than the orphaned child? Who, within the depths of your elder mind, is more powerless than the unarmed father? Who, by your venerable word, is more exploitable than the very people the Mandalorians slaughter? You forewarn us of the dark side - but are we not Jedi? Are we not trained to resist such passions? Fall we sometimes do, but it is our life's work to combat darkness. To cower and quake in fear of it in our temples is to forfeit everything we believe. You say we conspire like Sith, but is it more like the Sith to conspire to save those we otherwise would leave to die, or to let the weak be massacred by the butchers of the Rim? I would rather fall in battle, protecting the weak, defending the innocent, than to let them fall because I was too afraid of the looming dark."

The Knight rose his saber up above his head, like a torch.

"This blade rises up now to burn away that darkness. I swear myself to Revan's cause. I take his banner up. I pledge myself to lead his men and fight his battles. Until the Mandalorians are defeated and the galaxy is safe once more, and peace is returned, I so swear this all. All of you, brothers, sisters, Guardians, Sentinels, Counselors, Knights, Masters, rise up now, rise up and shine your light forth, and strike back against the slaughtering dark!" He exclaimed.

For a moment, the room sat silent, and Puuncho shifted his saber into a low fighting stance, as if preparing to challenge the Knight to a duel. But after a few beats of stillness, another saber lit up - Kekel's green. It rose up into the air, as the Knight's was. Then another blue saber, and then a collection of others, and a few more, until finally, only Master Puuncho and two others remained with their sabers not above their heads. The room was filled with a chromatic field of light and color now, and not a shadow remained. Malak drew his own blue blade, and, with Revan, rose it up. Master Puuncho, irritated, bitter, and beaten, withdrew his blade.

"So be it." He said, "If you all will go forth in your foolishness, I will not strike at you. But the Council's ire will be great… great, indeed…"

With that, Puuncho excused himself, and left. His two fellows hesitated, and one of them drew his green blade and rose it. The other paused a moment, and joined. The room was in agreement. Revan spoke again, with all the lightsabers still held aloft.

"We are agreed, then. Collect your belongings. There shall be transport tomorrow to take us away from Coruscant and to the rendezvous point. We will meet with our brothers and sisters in arms soon. There, we will discuss command and strategy."

The lightsabers receded, and were belted, and the Jedi departed. As the young Knight of the golden blade began leaving, he was held by Revan, who cut him off.

"I was hoping to hear you speak, friend." He said, smiling.

"I was thinking you'd take it over… you're the renowned leader." The Knight mentioned, smiling back.

"Please, you're the one who rallied them all together. It takes true leadership to do something like that. Leadership we sorely need." Revan smiled and patted him on the shoulder, Malak smiling approvingly behind him.

"Glad to have you on board… General."

And with that, the Knight's choice - the General's choice - was made.

He was going to war.