Chapter Eight
Running ahead of me, Bastila urged me to follow her. As I followed I wasn't familiar with the building's layout and ended up far behind her. Before I could make a turn, a woman garbed in Jedi robes stopped me. She angrily said.
"Why aren't you wearing your Jedi robes? Do you mock the traditions of our order?"
I inadvertently let out a snicker.
"I am a soldier of the Republic not a Jedi. We Republic don't wear robes because frankly armor is more effective at stopping blaster fire."
She snorted at me.
"I find that hard to believe as I sense the Force is strong within you. You don't sound like you're lying but if you are, it's in bad taste."
"I'm not lying! More importantly I have to meet with the Council and you are holding me up."
She looked uncomfortable after hearing the part about the Council. Bowing her head, the Jedi spoke apologetically.
"I'm sorry. My Masters have always taught me to be less rash and confrontational... may the Force be with you."
She walked off. I made a turn where I last saw Bastila. There was a small room leading into a large circular chamber inside which stood Bastila along with four others. Carth stood against the wall in the small room, nodding at me as I passed him. The moment I entered, the red Twi'lek of the group began to speak in Galactic Basic.
"I am Zhar. Let me introduce the rest of the Council to you."
He told me the man who resembled Davik and was dressed in red Jedi robes was Vrook. The others were a human Chronicler in khaki robes called Dorak, and an extremely small, but wise looking green alien with pointy ears called Vandar. After the introduction Zhar cut straight to business.
"The reason you are here today is because Bastila Shan claims you have powerful Force sensitivity and has suggested you be trained as a Jedi."
Vrook interrupted.
"We haven't decided whether we'll let you become a Jedi. You are too old. It is already hard to mold a young mind. With an adult mind it's near impossible!"
The pointy eared Vandar softly said.
"While that is true there are rare exceptions ... and you might well be one."
Vrook looked angrily at me.
"We have yet to see how this will go."
Finally Zhar addressed me.
"Bastila explained in detail everything that happened on Taris and it will be put in consideration. Do you have anything you would like to know?"
I let out a breath of frustration then glanced at Bastila. She too didn't look pleased with the way things were going although she was mostly succeeding at hiding her frustration. I spoke to Zhar.
"I would like to make it damn clear that I never asked to become a Jedi in the first place! I am a soldier with the Republic and I would prefer to return to my duties as soon as possible. So if you and the rest of the Council need time to decide my fate, please don't let me age a few years."
Vrook in particular looked infuriated while the rest of the Council appeared to be contemplating. After a minute Zhar nodded at me.
"Very well. In the meantime we have prepared sleeping quarters for you if you wish to rest somewhere other than your ship. While we are in the process of making our decision you are free to explore the Jedi Academy. And while I advice against rashness and impatience, I will do my best to expedite the decision process."
Just like that the meeting ended. Bastila had to stay with the Council to discuss Jedi matters which somewhat disappointed me. I wanted to ask her about the kiss since we arrived. It was a kiss on the cheek, but it wasn't just a kiss. There was a deeper meaning to it and that meaning was all I could think about. I didn't understand why she seemed to be the one most interested in my becoming a Jedi. A part of me thought that maybe she wanted to remain close to me and making me a Jedi would certainly keep me on Dantooine for possibly a damn long time. I felt drowsy from the events since Taris, including the boring meeting. After some aimless wandering, I found the bunking room Zhar mentioned, picked a bed then crashed onto it.
Two figures immerged from the shadows into an ancient ruin. One of them wore menacing robes that were all black with a baggy hood and mask covering his or her face. The other one was a tall muscular man with his head clean shaven, tattoos and a subordinate attitude. While the bold one tried to talk the masked one out of exploring the ruin, the masked one didn't listen. Instead the masked one approached an ancient looking alien artifact. The moment the masked one touched the artifact, it glowed then displayed partial images of the galaxy. Something clicked in my hazy mind. I realized who the two were. The bold one, Malak and the masked one, Revan. Darkness began to envelope the images of the Dark Lords until everything went black.
Author's Note: In the next chapter the Council confrontation intensifies.
