"He did what?" Said Master Qaric Zen, his voice uncharacteristically raised in a show of rare surprise.
"I've instructed him and the others during my time in Dantooine, and yes I knew he was quite the impulsive one. But I would assume that he be content with childish pranks and tomfoolery in which he delights so." Even in his later years, the tall Lorrdian paced about his private quarters – which was littered with stray datapads and strewn memory chips – indeed Qaric Zen was infamous in his love for organized clutter more so than many of his other peculiarities.
"With all due respect Master, it was certainly a practical joke of the highest caliber." Dja-Ke stood opposite his old Master with both arms behind his back. A gesture of reverence, even if the playful grin on his face suggested otherwise.
Whether or not Master Qaric heard his former apprentice mattered not, for he continued in the same wild manner as he did before. "The boy did not just stop at putting salt inside beverage dispensers, no. He attacked you. You! It's a good thing that you saw through the charade or he would've been gravely injured. Or worse." Master Qaric emphasized grimly on 'worse'.
"Thank you for the vote of confidence Master Qaric." Dja-Ke said flatly – masking the pride that threatened to swell from beneath him.
"I suppose it can't be helped." The Lorrdian Jedi Master spoke with resignation this time. "I thought his prowess with the lightsaber would resonate with your own – his insolence notwithstanding. Clearly I was wrong."
"We all have our moments, Master." Dja-Ke replied. "As I recall, I remember a few years ago of a certain insolent – but talented - Padawan who called a certain Lorrdian Jedi a 'blinking slave-driver' after a particularly exhausting sparring session."
Qaric Zen laughed boisterously upon hearing Dja-Ke's response. "Nostalgia is quite unbecoming of you, my old apprentice," Master Zen ceased his laughter and looked at him.
"But the boy is a natural duelist is he not?" Said he, more of a statement than a question.
"Very much so." Replied Dja-Ke, absentmindedly running a hand over his right shoulder – where the invisible mark of his near-defeat was. Still only a boy.
"You know me too well Master Qaric."
"Apparently not well enough," The Lorrdian Jedi replied, his arms folded across the breast of his ashen tunic. "I was expecting a very angry Dja-Ke Saden storming in here, demanding answers."
"Anger is not part of the Jedi tenet-" Said Dja-Ke in reflex, something that he regretted immediately.
"Indeed it is not Dja-Ke." Master Zen placed a hand on his shoulder. "But you of all people know my views and teachings, we as living beings have the right to be angry – but we as Jedi must not dwell on that anger. Others may not agree on my methods, and that is quite alright. Our Force-given wisdom allows us to interpret it in many different ways." The Jedi Master paused briefly. "And some interpret it far more extremely than others."
Dja-Ke merely nodded. He need not a straightforward explanation to recognize the 'extremity' of the Sith and their teachings.
Qaric Zen waved a hand dismissively. "Look at me rambling away like some senile historian." Dja-Ke detected a flash of bitterness that laced Master Zen's attempt at levity.
"You are no longer my Padawan, Dja-Ke. By nature it is not my place to advise you."
"Master you know that's not true." Spoke Dja-Ke, with a tone of voice that bordered on disbelief. He may not always agree with his former Master, but to him, counsel was counsel, no matter what.
"All I hope is that you will take my words just as what they are, mere words." Master Qaric held up a hand, the universal sign to quell any further interruptions. "You are your own person, and only you, through the Force, should dictate what is right and what is wrong." Qaric Zen said sternly, conveying a pregnant pause between the two of them. "Your next assignment comes from Grand Master Shan herself. Whether you will undertake it alone or with an apprentice is entirely within your purview. May the Force be with you, Dja-Ke Saden."
Gone was the bitter Qaric Zen of before, now facing Dja-Ke stood a Jedi Master of the Order, a wave of tranquility radiated from him as he spoke the customary phrase of the Jedi.
"May it be with you as well, Master Qaric."
They embraced and went their separate ways.
The time to meet with his former Master was few and far in between, but whenever he did find the moment to do so, he always left with peace, and extraordinarily, a reassured sense of purpose.
The Jedi of the Order however, did not share the same level of admiration regarding Qaric Zen. Infamously known as a nonconformist, Master Zen was viewed with curiosity by those who had a passing interest in him, and loathing by those who did not agree with his view of the more thoughtful aspects of the Force.
Even as a Padawan several years ago, Dja-Ke himself did not fully agree or understand some of the more philosophical teachings of the Lorrdian Master. Despite that; his respect towards Qaric Zen was a constant thing. Was not his Master's complete apathy towards his detractors a vital embodiment of the Jedi way?
And regardless of the many years of service in the Enclaves, a wealth of experience and a deep understanding of the Force, Master Zen was never approached by the Council of Twelve to join their ranks. No doubt the result of his reputation as a maverick, Dja-Ke thought hotly – an emotion the he would classify later as that of righteous fury.
Arriving at the study chamber of the Grand Master, Dja-Ke willed his resentment to retreat.
There is no emotion, there is peace. Dja-Ke silently mouthed. Especially in front of our Grand Master, he added wryly.
His apprehension was duly warranted. Although Dja-Ke had only seen the Grand Master once in his youngling years, the stories of Satele Shan – a Jedi Knight who kept the fragile peace between the Republic and the Empire and her meteoric rise within the Order, was the stuff of legends. Padawans strived for direct apprenticeship under her, Knights marveled at her prowess in battle, and Masters deferred her judgment. Dja-Ke was going to meet face-to-face with a living legend and it took him every ounce of his willpower to find his center again. Still throbbing with uneasy calm, he grabbed the twin metallic handle and paused briefly.
Unlike the many entryways inside the Jedi Temple in Tython, these doors are not powered by electricity nor are they outfitted with the standard motion-detectors for any automated mobility. The dark orowood double doors leading to the Grand Master's private study are heavy - almost imposing in its carved silence. It was a figurative representation of the Order's commitment, to all manner of life in the natural world.
Dja-Ke however, has always thought differently on the underlying symbolism of the wooden portal. Anyone with the intent of traversing in or out of the room will be required to push open the solid wooden doors with the strength of their own arms. To him, it represents the labors needed to attain the highest position in the Jedi Order – ostensibly, it represents the determination and the will to advance. Finally drawing on that very same determination, Dja-Ke gripped the metal handles more firmly and with that, he pushed.
As he stepped in, Grand Master Satele Shan was on her seat, studying intently a luminous yellow holocron; she had an elbow resting languidly on the desk. In self-contemplation, she almost looked just like any other Jedi. Almost.
Halfway between anticipation and apprehension, Dja-Ke approached her. "Grand Master Shan?"
"Yes?" Satele Shan said, her gaze now on Dja-Ke; the glowing pyramid forgotten. "How are you this fine day?"
Dja-Ke visibly balked. He was not expecting the Grand Master of the Jedi Order to engage him in small-talk! Regardless, the threat of further humiliation spurred him to speak whatever indistinct thought that crossed his mind. Only when the Grand Master smiled warmly at him did he calm.
"It's alright Master Saden, do not be nervous." Being addressed as 'Master' albeit for formality's sake had the desired effect to Dja-Ke. He could feel the anxiety ebb away from him –quickly replaced by humility.
"Thank you Master Shan," Dja-Ke finally managed to say – this time making sure that his voice remained inert. "I was told to report to you for my next assignment?"
"Yes," The Grand Master walked towards him. "Republic forces in Ord Mantell have sent word to us." She stood now before Dja-Ke, who felt her towering over him inexplicably despite being a full head shorter.
"Is it about the separatist threat?"
Dja-Ke had heard stories about Ord Mantell's decision to ally with the Republic, a decision that had proved quite unpopular with some of the planet's populace.
"Indeed." Grand Master Shan nodded sagely. "The planet is under great unrest, with Republic troops being stretched far too thinly to quell the many riots and in-fighting."
"Naturally, they asked for Jedi intervention?" Said Dja-Ke with a barely concealed smirk. He was infinitely relieved when the Grand Master replied with a smile of her own.
"Jedi assistance was the official word as I recall." She replied, with a touch of amusement. "This mission however, will not be as straightforward as the Republic points it to be."
Dja-Ke quirked an eyebrow, different scenarios of civil war between Mantellians with battalions of Sith played in his mind. "I'm not sure I understand, Master Shan."
"Officially, your presence in the planet is to provide support the Republic garrison, which in turn, is supporting the local government." Satele Shan produced a datapad from the many folds of her robe. "The Council finds that the current methods by Republic troops in handling the separatist situation in Ord Mantell to be less than effective." With a touch of her fingers, a hologram came to life. It was an image of a human female. "This woman will be your contact in Ord Mantell."
The rotating image cast a soft bluish glow. Even via holoprojection, the young woman's grin was a beacon of blithe. A fierce-looking scar that ran from her shapely jawline however, shattered any illusion of helplessness. For some reason unknown to Dja-Ke, he found the hint of violence to be quite admirable. "Does she have a name?"
"Her exact name is unknown to us."
"The Republic has no records of her?" Dja-Ke exclaimed, this time eschewing any effort to restrain his surprise. "Either she is a complete recluse or was born in Wild Space to not have her essential data recorded." A particularly vivid childhood memory of Republic census droids and their thoroughness in cataloging his biometrics fueled his query.
"She might have hailed from somewhere far closer than you think, Master Saden." Grand Master Shan chided, although not unkindly. "She is simply known by a codename, Eharl. Does that help you in gleaning her origins?"
Dja-Ke furrowed his brows in confusion. "I can't say that it does, Master Shan."
Master Shan offered him again one of her astute nods. "Regardless, her role as your contact is due to her unique position in this power struggle. Eharl provides both Republic forces and the Mantellian separatist with supplies."
The way Master Shan had worded 'supplies' meant that they were likely illegal, or dangerous. Dja-Ke presumed both. "So this Eharl is a smuggler then?"
"That is indeed one way to categorize her yes," Master Shan said. "Although I believe she prefers to be called a 'merchant'."
"Don't they all?" Dja-Ke let a chuckle escape but immediately hoped with all his being that Satele Shan's static smile was genuine.
"Her exact coordinates in Ord Mantell and your full mission briefing can be found in more detail in this datapad." Said Master Shan, placing the electronic device in Dja-Ke's hands. "The Council does not forbid you from participating in the fight against the separatists. I however, would like to emphasize caution and subtlety here."
In an unconscious pantomime of the Grand Master, Dja-Ke simple nodded. In his center however, he was brimming with excitement. Surely a mission that required this level of secrecy was of the utmost importance!
"I realize that violence at times can be inevitable." Her visage hardened for a brief instant. "But know Dja-Ke Saden, that there is always a way to mitigate bloodshed even when all seemed lost."
"Yes, Master Shan." Dja-Ke bowed his head dutifully. I will not fail.
The Grand Master's gaze softened considerably. "The Council chose you for a reason Dja-Ke, your words during the hijacking of the Ascendant ensured the survival of both the hostages and Republic forces aboard the ship."
Dja-Ke remained silent at the memory and trembled lightly at the thought. He did not dare to imagine the outcome of the Ascendant crisis should he followed through with his initial plan of a pre-emptive strike. His decision to negotiate with the Trandoshan slavers was a mere whim, one that earned him the blasted moniker.
'Peacemaker', he mouthed it in silence.
A title that Dja-Ke felt he did not deserve.
"Furthermore, we believe that this mission will be a great learning opportunity for your new Padawan."
A rush of cool air washed over Dja-Ke from a nearby window. The Padawan problem had been all but forgotten in light of his new mission.
"Is something the matter, Dja-Ke?" Said Master Shan, a look of concern was on her face.
His unsettled feelings were not hidden as well as he would have liked.
"Master Shan – with all due respect, I wish to travel to Ord Mantell alone." Dja-Ke intoned, looking straight at her. "I do not feel that I am ready to take a Padawan learner."
"May I ask why?"
Dja-Ke was at a loss of words. How can he tell Satele Shan, the Grand Master of the Jedi Order, leader of the High Council, of his opinion towards the matter? Of young Jedi being sent into the field of battle? Of the freshly-etched names of Padawan learners in the Halls of Memory? The great injustice of it all? Better yet, how can he tell the supreme head of the Order that she and her Council are wrong?
"Because he is just a child." Dja-Ke finally replied. "It's not fair for us, Jedi or not, to expect him to forfeit his life in battle." The cynical sting in his words was barely contained.
The Grand Master strode closer to him, her gaze unwavering. "I do not blame you for your thoughts, Master Saden." Satele Shan kindly said. "Not many who are scarred by war can remain true, but I am glad that your sense of justice still stems from kindness and compassion." She placed a hand on each of his shoulders. "I understand your inner plight, Dja-Ke Saden. But I do think you will be committing a great disservice to your potential Padawan should you not choose him."
Dja-Ke flushed, Disservice? "By allowing him to live?"
"By taking away his chance to face his own trials and tribulations." Master Shan locked her gaze firmly. "Jedi strive for personal growth. We are connected to the Force, but we are also responsible for our connection, our sensitivity to it. It is because of this responsibility that we are the guardians of peace and justice."
Dja-Ke remained silent. While he was steadfast in his beliefs, he cannot help but be interested in further hearing Master Shan's words.
"Younglings train within the protective confines of the Academy in preparation for their role later on as Padawans. But Padawans train with their Masters to learn from experience, to learn how to protect others from your protection and to better themselves through personal guidance. Your guidance."
Dja-Ke bit the urge to offer a counter-argument. Instead, he chose to avert the Grand Master's eyes in an insignificant act of rebellion. She offered a very textbook answer to his problems and it still had not calmed him an iota.
"This is your personal struggle Dja-Ke Saden, and I understand." She said to him. "But is it not the audacity of Masters that dare to take up learners in this time of war that make Padawans into full-fledged Jedi Knights?"
Never in his entire life had he felt so small. Not because of the inherent truth in her words, but by the realization of his own Knighthood, and how it was a direct result of those Masters' audacity. Dja-Ke was sure that Master Shan had intended him to make this connection.
"Remember, that before you became a Jedi Knight, you were a Padawan." She added needlessly. "I await your report in person, Dja-Ke Saden. The Force is with you."
Satele Shan gave Dja-Ke a nod, one that undoubtedly concluded their meeting.
Dja-Ke bowed his head in return. "And with you, Grand Master Shan." And left.
As he shut the doors closed, a faint but unmistakably firm voice came upon him.
I trust you to do the right thing Dja-Ke. Said the telepathic words of Satele Shan.
But what is the right thing? He asked back. The Grand Master never replied.
With a very audible sigh, Dja-Ke made his way to the youngling Dormitories. The temptation to just abandon the imposed responsibility and leave as hastily as possible was truly strong. He almost laughed at the thought, neglecting a duty to accomplish another duty was a ridiculous concept which bordered on cowardly. But on the other hand, it was his honest opinion to rebuff the Order's penchant for sending Apprentices to warzones.
Yet ironically, he was only a few paces away in undermining that personal philosophy. Grand Master Shan's words bit deeply at his core. You were once a Padawan too, she had said and she was immensely right.
But Dja-Ke knew in his heart of hearts that would rather fight to the death than surrender. He was afraid - afraid of his actions and afraid of the responsibility of another life directly under him. Dja-Ke felt as if he had two metaphysical brains inside his head, both fighting for dominance, both seemingly in the right.
Rubbing his aching temple all the while, he told one of the minders – a matronly Ithorian, for Oren Dorr. The boy came to him soon enough, all smiles and adequately prepared with a knapsack loosely slung over his shoulder.
Dja-Ke extended a hand towards Oren and with the calmest expression he could muster, the pair went to board their transport bound for Ord Mantell.