Disclaimer: I am not George Lucas or J.K. Rowling.
Enter Luke, Han, Leia, Mara, and Qwi, in the Great Hall.
Qwi joins her fellow students at the Shan table. Mara joins her fellow fourth years at the Revan table. Luke, Han, and Leia join Wedge at the Revan table.
Enter Winter Retrac and Bria Tharen, who immediately stop talking when Luke sits down.
Luke looks up at the staff table: Yoda, Yaddle, Sio Bibble, Darth Vader, and Natasi Daala.
Luke. He's not there.
Han and Leia look up, as well.
Han. He can't have left.
Luke. Of course he hasn't.
Leia. You don't think he's . . . hurt, or anything, do you?
Luke. No.
Leia. But where is he, then?
Luke. [aside, to Han and Leia] Maybe he's not back yet. You know, from his mission, the thing he was doing over the summer for Yoda.
Han. Yeah . . . yeah, that will be it.
Leia bites her lip and looks up at the staff table.
Leia. [looks at Daala] Who's that?
Luke glances at Daala, who is whispering to Yoda. When she turns, Luke recognizes her.
Luke. It's that Daala woman.
Leia. Who?
Luke. She was at my hearing. She works for Omas.
Leia. She works for Omas? What in space is she doing here, then?
Luke. I don't know. . . .
Leia scans the staff table.
Leia. No, no, surely not . . .
Enter Shaak Ti, who returns to the staff table.
Enter Mon Mothma, leading the first years, including Sothais Saar and Turi Altamik, into the Great Hall.
Enter the mask of Darth Revan, which sits on a stool.
Mask. [singing] In time of old when I was new, and the Jedi Temple had barely started, the founders of our noble Temple thought never to be parted. United by a common goal, they had the selfsame yearning, to make the galaxy's best Force-based institution and pass along their learning. "Together we will build and teach," the four good friends decided. And never did they dream that they might someday be divided, for were there such friends anywhere as Exar Kun and Darth Revan? Unless, it was the second pair of Meetra Surik and Bastila Shan? So how could it have gone so wrong? How could such friendships fail? Why, I was there and so can tell the whole sad, sorry tale. Said Kun, "We'll teach those whose ancestry is purest." Said Shan, "We'll teach those whose intelligence is surest." Said Revan, "We'll teach all those with brave deeds in their name." Said Surik, "I'll teach the lot, and treat them just the same." These differences caused little strife when first they came to light, for each of the four founders had a House in which they might take only those they wanted, so, for instance, Kun took only Pureblood Force adepts of great cunning, just like him. And only those of sharpest mind were taught by Shan. While the bravest and the boldest went to daring Revan. Good Surik, she took the rest, and taught them all she knew, thus the Houses and their founders retained friendships firm and true. So Tython worked in harmony for several happy years, but then discord crept among us, feeding on our faults and fears. The Houses that, like pillars four, had once held up our Temple, now turned upon each other and, divided, sought to rule. And for a while, it seemed the Temple must meet an early end, what with dueling and with fighting and clash of friend on friend. And at last, there came a morning when old Exar Kun departed. And though the fighting then died out, he left us quite downhearted. And never since the founders four were whittled down to three have the Houses been united, as they were meant to be. And now the Sorting Mask is here, and you all know the score: I sort you into Houses, because that is what I'm for. But this year, I'll go further; listen to my song: Though condemned I am to split you, still I worry that it's wrong. Though I must fulfill my duty and must quarter every year, still I wonder whether sorting may not bring the end I fear. O! Know the perils; read the signs, the warning history shows, for our Jedi Temple is in danger from external deadly foes. And we must unite inside her, or we'll crumble from within. I have told you; I have warned you. . . . Let the sorting now begin.
All applaud, whisper, and mutter.
Han. Branched out a bit this year, hasn't it?
Luke. Too right it has.
Leia. I wonder if it has ever given warnings before?
Enter the ghost of Canderous Ordo.
Canderous. Yes, indeed. The Mask feels itself honor-bound to give the Temple due warning whenever it feels . . .
Mon Mothma glares at the whisperers, and Canderous falls silent.
Mothma. Saar, Sothais.
Enter Sothais Saar, a tall boy with blue eyes and black hair, ending in brown tips.
Mask. Revan.
Revans applaud.
Sothais joins the Revans.
The sorting continues, until . . .
Mothma. Altamik, Turi.
Enter Turi Altamik, a girl with golden hair and green eyes.
Mask. Surik.
Altamik joins Corran Horn, Iella Wessiri, and Mirax Terrik at the Surik table.
Exit Mask.
Mon Mothma returns to the staff table.
Yoda stands.
Yoda. To our newcomers, welcome. To our old hands, welcome back. There is a time for speech-making, but this is not it. Fill yer boots.
Yoda sits, and droid-made food appears on the table.
Han. Astral!
Han immediately begins to fill on bantha steaks.
Leia. [to Canderous] What were you saying before about the sorting? About the Mask's giving warnings?
Canderous. Oh, yes. Yes, I have heard the Mask give warnings before, but not since the Clone Wars. It always happens at times of war. And always, of course, its advice is the same: Stand together; be united from within.
Han. How can it know if the Temple is in danger if it's a helmet?
Canderous. I have no idea. Of course, it lives in Yoda's quarters, so I daresay it picks up a few things up there.
Luke. And it wants all the Houses to be friends? Fat chance.
Canderous. Well, now, you shouldn't take that attitude. Peaceful cooperation - that's the key. We ghosts, though we belong to separate Houses, maintain links of friendship. In spite of the competitiveness between Revan and Kun, I would never dream of seeking an argument with Jace Malcom.
Han. Only because you're terrified of him.
Canderous stiffens.
Canderous. Terrified? I hope I, Manda'lor Canderous Ordo, the Preserver, have never been guilty of cowardice in my life. The noble blood that runs in these veins . . .
Han. What blood? Surely you haven't still got . . .
Canderous. [angry] It's a figure of speech. I assume I am still allowed to enjoy the use of whichever words I like, even if the pleasures of food consumption are denied me. But I am quite used to students poking fun at my death, I assure you.
Leia. Canderous. He wasn't really laughing at you.
Leia glares at Han.
Han mumbles with his mouth full.
Canderous storms off, going over to speak with Dak Ralter and Cole Fardreamer.
Well done, Han.
Han. What? I'm not allowed to ask a simple question?
Leia. Oh, forget it.
Exit all.