As always, Dana's quarters were dimly lit. This time it was by a candle in front of her, swaying in its deep red glow to the movement of her eyes, following wherever she gazed.

She muttered a few words, incomprehensible to all but her people. And by all appearances there were none around to hear them.

The flame grew in intensity, then died down to a flicker. Her eyes closed.

"Forgive me, goddess, for what I do. I see nothing in my future, the evil eyes of the Jedi have overwhelmed me."

The flame flickered again, growing in intensity once more. This time it was with a core of black light, from which came the faintest of voices.

It also spoke in the tongue she had used.

"Your chosen are lost. I only remain as a fragment of Suroni. I am no longer worthy. I plead for you to seek out new worshippers."

The voice came again, more intense, with a definite tone of anger.

"I am truly sorry my goddess. I have done what I can to ensure you can continue, that you be free of their clutches, their wretched imprisonment."

There was a period of silence before the voice spoke again, softer that time.

"I have no choice. They will not let me leave. I cannot bear the thought of them learning the truth, and destroying your last remains."

After one last whisper, the flame died back down to its flickering state.

"I have failed all but my last duty. I live only to see your last Ember survive to a new age. And if the opportunity arises, I will seize it."

From the moment the cup slipped into her hand, Rilana felt a great calming sensation wash over her. Even before taking her first sip, the tea was making a difference. Quite potent indeed.

"You can thank Yuthura for that, or at least her botanist friend. It's really quite amazing what Felucian plant life has to offer." Surik herself had settled for water, which she left to the side while relaxing into her own chair opposite Rilana. "She's complained to me about wanting space, but I'm still convinced friendly faces are the way to go. And there's a lot you two can relate about."

"Perhaps. I only know her from reputation at the academy though. And she seemed far more emotional about the children, since I doubt she was crying at seeing me in person."

Surik tightened her lips, beginning to lean forward to make use of the moment. "That's one way to get to the subject at hand. So, first off, are these really Sith children, or those left behind by the colonists?"

"They're all from Sith or Dark Jedi. The colonists took theirs when they fled, no thought spared for the others."

Rilana took another sip to keep herself very calm. "I had only just been released from a slave crew, they found out I had strong potential in the Force and sent me to the academy. Most other teenagers there had similar experiences, so we bonded reasonably well."

Another sip, another sigh of cold comfort. "Then Revan tore through the place. Take it however you like, people I had come to know in those few weeks died by his blade before the in-fighting even began. Seeing as young initiates were kept in a separate part of the compound, we thought at first that we were the lucky ones."

After a sage nod, Surik took the first sip of her own, placing the cup down after with a steady hand. "Some parents went after him I take it. Others got caught up in the fallout, protecting their young?"

"You'd think. But no, I'd say a lot of them were just seizing the opportunity to take control." Yet another sip was needed to keep her composure firm. "It got worse over the next four years. Less ships came, and without the colony, Czerka was demanding more money and scavenging rights from the Sith. Then, about a year ago, they barricaded everyone they considered too young to be worth the trouble in the separate compound and fled on what ships were left. Not a single bit of remorse for abandoning their own children."

"Some of them might still regret it. But, you are right, it was a selfish decision. Fear of being left behind for showing that kind of 'weakness' is no excuse."

Rilana sighed again in contempt, her expression starting to turn dour. "I suppose I'm lucky in never knowing my parents, why they left me to the life of slavery under the Sith. It let me be just detached enough from the little ones when I had to explain why they weren't going to see their own parents anymore."

After finishing the last of her tea, she slid the cup away and looked right at Surik. "I want to know if any of them come back. I want to tell them face to face that they don't deserve the privilege of a reunion."

"So far, none of the Dark Jedi who have come back have asked Bastila or myself the question. And while I can see your point of view, I don't want them harboring ill will to anyone. That's going to get in the way of their path to redemption. Maybe something less confrontational in regards to their loss of custody?"

When she finally got a reluctant nod of agreement from Rilana, she smiled and leaned back into her chair at last. "So, the uniform with master ranks. Was that part of keeping the teenagers in line, or-"

"For show in transmissions. All I had to do was sound important, ensure they saw the rank, and most scavengers looking to pick through what was left backed off. Those that didn't we just hid from, or…" She took a small breath, beginning to wish for another cup of the calming tea. "I killed anyone who tried to get into the academy. I wasn't going to take the chance of them coming back with slavers. Or worse, like Darth Sion."

"I remember you mentioning him. I've been wondering why you were so calm in that transmission, caught me off guard when we met in person and that wasn't the case."

Rilana's gaze moved down for a few moments, feeling shameful about her behaviour, until she noticed Surik was smiling and clearly not holding it against her. "It's a lot easier to sound important when talking to a hologram. I didn't expect you to come in person either."

Surik gave one last nod, readying herself to stand at last. "I wanted to survey the place myself to be sure. At least something good came of a second visit. So, before we go, how did Algwinn end up trusting you enough to lie to everyone at that meeting?"

Once again, Rilana glanced around awkwardly before answering, her fingers starting to curl. "I begged him to keep the truth to himself. The oldest of us were going to come back here, and the rest would finally have a ship to escape to whatever planet would take them in. He isn't to blame."

"I'm not looking to blame. He's going to get a stern talking to for not at least telling Yuthura, but that's the end of it." She finally got up from her seat at that, retrieving her cup for return to the kitchens. "I think you'll get on well here. Proving that the Sith aren't beyond compassion will be a great help. That, and Merena would appreciate help with the other children we have here."

"I can certainly try."

Rilana remained at her seat for a while, not feeling ready to leave yet. When Surik reached the doorway, she sat up somewhat when a thought eventually did occur to her. "So, what's the deal with Masadar? He never explained what specific kind of mind trick he was trying to use, it was a lot stronger than anything the Sith taught."

"He's an empath. And a depressed one at that I might add, seeing as he believes he failed on Korriban."

"Failed?"

Surik shrugged and turned her head to Rilana, the small grin back again. "You reacted rather badly when he tried to calm you the first time. Right now, he doesn't want to try it again with Sith who can actually kill people."

Rilana tried not to roll her eyes. "I'll assume that's a compliment…"

"I am the calm that brings peace. There is emotion, tempered by poise. I am the rock upon which those may find refuge from their darkest-"

Masadar opened his eyes in a startled manner. A glance around the spacious room later, he was untangling his legs with a grumble.

"Last time I try to get all fancy with metaphor."

It was only after a second glance that he noticed Yuthura leaning in the doorway. He was hardly about to pin his lack of focus on her presence, so instead he hastily straightened out his robes in an attempt to save what little face was left.

"Excessive metaphor sounds like the old ways Masadar. What prompted it to begin with?"

"Apart from the near catastrophic failure on my first real attempt?"

Yuthura sighed a little while entering the meditation room for herself. "Before this devolves into exaggerations galore, perhaps we can try talking about it in a normal fashion?"

It took a while for Masadar to relent. When he did, he returned to a kneeling posture and waited for Yuthura to do the same, after she had taken her boots off. "I've spent so many years preparing for this one task. At first to keep more Jedi from falling in with Darth Revan. And then to fight back against the Purge. I know failure is always a possibility, but the cost there…"

"Is one you couldn't have foreseen, that I and others were painfully unaware of, and one that you can be virtually certain is not going to be repeated." Yuthura took that quiet moment to clap her knees. "Have I missed anything?"

Masadar looked at her. "Did Surik send you here for a pep talk?"

"No. In case you've forgotten in the last five seconds, being an empath works both ways and we're all feeling depressed now so someone had to come sort that out."

His jaw began to drop in horror.

"That's my last attempt at humour for the day." When that seemed to offer little comfort, she sighed again. "It's hard for me to not notice that you've been less 'yourself' since your return from Korriban. I've seen too many young men and women fall into this trap of self-doubt to even think about not intervening when I can. Don't let this one shortcoming define your plan for the future."

"That's not entirely up to me though. By now we were supposed to be discussing what Sith cell to check out next. Surik hasn't said a word to me, Bastila only the minimum pleasantries. It's hard to ignore that they had high hopes for tackling violent Sith without bloodshed, and harder still the fact that I just might never be able to deliver on that."

"Then forget about that plan, Masadar."

This time when he looked at her questioningly, she didn't have an urge to sigh or try and lighten the mood. Certain things had been running through her mind, and now was the time to begin sharing them with others.

"This is not a time when we can afford to get bogged down rethinking flawed ideas that will take too long to rectify. There are other things someone with your talent can do, look towards those for the time being."

"I don't know what else I'm supposed to do. I'm not trained as a counselor, or a psychologist for that matter."

There was another period of silence. Of course there was one thing that came to mind, but neither felt quite comfortable enough to bring it up. The responsibility to do so eventually fell to Yuthura anyway.

"I know you believe it's not a strong suit of yours, Juhani told me as much, but…"

Masadar took his turn to sigh, now feeling a sudden urge to get out of his meditative position and seek out fresh air instead. "Being around so many frightened minds…" The glare he got made it all too clear that he wasn't going to walk out so easily. "It is physically painful. Thirty eight different perspectives of the same atrocities, thirty eight reactions to them, all bombarding me as soon as I enter the room. It's unintentional, but an invasion nonetheless."

"I do understand what that is like, somewhat. But quite frankly, what I've seen of Rilana and the others tells me that they are going to need a lot more help than what I or just about any other Jedi can give. No-one is ordering you to do this, but it will make their healing process a lot better." His discontent wasn't unnoticed, prompting her to make one last attempt. "Even if you were still intent on traversing the galaxy I would have asked anyway."

"Alright alright, I'll see what I can do. So long as this is the end of it."

There was another bout of grumbling when he finally got back up on his feet. It got worse when he was about to leave and on an impulse looked back over his shoulder, only to see Yuthura grinning to herself.

Rather than making an actual remark, he waved the whole matter off and went on his way.

Atton's next drink from the cup was interrupted by one of the many dancers bending down to get his attention, bearing a large grin under some particularly heavy makeup. The intent was clear, and it almost hurt physically to gesture his hand in a manner that made her stand back up and return to the dance without another word. After all, he had a standard to keep up while in good company. Or at least what he was told was good company, though he certainly wouldn't ever say that to Carth's face.

"You know, I can't help but wonder if the universe was taking the piss when I made one crack about the red lightsaber. In more ways than one."

"Oh, so you think Kreia turning out that way and Sion having a thing for the Exile is all a big joke then?"

"Well, no, I'm not saying it's because I made that joke. More like the Force made me say it when it knew I'd end up eating two feet for it. Everything has some sense of humour, however sick, twisted, demented it might be."

Carth shrugged while taking his own drink. "Speaking from personal experience then? Actual experience I mean?" He cracked a grin at the look he got for that. "You're hardly the only man in the galaxy who runs into those types Rand."

"That come up because the women I've had to hang around are either mysterious or prone to insulting me?"

"Perhaps. Or maybe you're a little too good at giving the wrong kind of impression to people, the sort I've been told to watch for. Now I'm hardly the one to consult about resolving trust issues…"

"There's an understatement."

"Harsh, but alright. My point is that you can probably reconsider playing up the deception now that things have changed, and maybe when that happens they'll stop giving you the sarcastic or dismissive edge. It's a new age, people don't have to hide anymore."

"Unless it's behind a desk?"

"Hey, I don't hide. If anything I'm chained to it until everyone gets back on their feet. When I'm not spending what little time I have left at the officer's club with some Jedi friends of mine of course."

"I'll buy that. Can't say the same for the drinks."

"Now that's unfair." The grin returned despite his protest, culminating into a genuine chuckle before he finished what was left in his glass. "Just this one time then. Admiral's salary isn't as great as you might think."

"Better than a Jedi's salary. Which is 'a healthy amount of feeling good about oneself for doing humane deeds' according to Bastila."

"That sounds about right. Hope she's not giving you a hard time."

"No more than usual. Probably got her hands full with keeping everything going and raising a son at the same time to join the 'poke fun at Atton' club. I'd offer to help if I knew where to start."

Carth sighed again, staring into the bottom of his empty glass. It came to rest on the bar with a small chink. "Bastila is stubborn, and she's not the sort to ask for help if she believes she can handle a problem. But she's very close with Juhani, seeing as she's spent the past four years protecting both Bastila and Vaner. If you really do want to help out more, try asking her instead."

Atton only needed a few moments to think back to their very brief conversation on arrival day. "Yeah, and how do I get past her ice wall?"

"Try talking to her normally for starters. Don't let that fierce Cathar face intimidate you; when she's not chasing down her past she's one of the gentlest people I know."

He left a few credit chips on the bar while shifting himself off the stool at long last, covering both drinks and the tip. When it became apparent that Atton was intent on staying, he cleared his throat to ask the lingering question in mind.

"Why Bastila? Meetra is back from Korriban by now, and I'm sure she's still got a lot of problems to cover herself."

Just for a moment, Atton clenched his hand up.

"She's obsessing over that Twi'lek guy that showed up, and the kids they brought back from Korriban. And before that it was Visas and Brianna getting all the important jobs…" He sighed and waved his hand out as if that would make the lingering resentment go away. "She's got her share of responsibility under control, I know that because she isn't the sort who won't ask for help. And I don't particularly like feeling useless."

Until that evening, Masadar hadn't actually thought to wander the halls of the Temple on foot. Everything looked so much larger, especially with the setting sun casting deep shadows across the main hall floor. What was usually a quick zip across that took no less than a minute now felt like a daunting trek through endless pillars. There was little in the way of repair crews on the main floor too, having moved onto restoring the spires at last. It made the isolation deeper for their absence.

It certainly wasn't how he had imagined it as a young boy at the enclave on Ryloth. And now, he almost regretted taking the time to walk and finally notice that his vision was woefully wrong.

Even the limited reprieve it gave him from what he was about to face seemed regrettable once it was over. At the threshold of the dormitory, noticeably isolated from where other children were situated, he realized that an ideal opportunity to ready himself had been wasted on musing.

He took a breath and stepped through the doorway. To his initial relief, he couldn't feel any temperature drop, nor the feeling of dread that had permeated Korriban.

The central hall that contained all the necessary amenities was unusually dark however. Lights were on, but they had been dimmed significantly.

That made it harder for him to finally notice Rilana sitting on one of the lounges, very much awake, but not acknowledging his presence. When he did eventually notice her, he did the only polite thing that came to mind and softly cleared his throat.

That made her sit up in a start, hastily brushing down the gown she was wrapped up in. She slowed a bit upon noticing it was Masadar and not one of the other Twi'lek Jedi. "Surik said you were depressed. That you felt like you failed, because I lashed out. Am I about to be asked for an apology, or a reassurance that it wasn't the end of your big plan?"

After a belated shrug, Masadar idly wandered over to a nearby table that he leaned against with his arms gradually folding up. "Yuthura wants me to help. Despite the fact that the only reason I haven't already volunteered is because I really don't have a clue on where to begin. It's not what I prepared for, plain and simple."

"So, in other words, we're not so much a lost cause, as much as we are… an inconvenient change of plans?"

Masadar frowned. It wasn't an attempt by Rilana to bait him into an outburst. That was a genuine question, and a worrying one at that.

"I didn't intend offence, my apologies."

The arms came down, his posture relaxing. To his further relief, Rilana relaxed in turn. No need for projecting his mood for a while yet.

"In my experience, children vary far too much to reliably handle, especially in number. I'd have to reach into the core of what they consider a calming notion on an individual basis, and worse, that notion can change at a moment's notice. There's no mental rock for them to stand on that has been built from years of experience."

"They've had years of experience alright. It just isn't the experience of a safe family, or the upbringing of a Jedi…"

"Please, Rilana, I'm trying to-"

"Make excuses?"

She sighed as well, breaking eye contact to pace around, let her lingering frustration seep away as she had been instructed to. It took a few more inhales for her to feel calm enough to face him once more.

"If you recall Juhani describing Bastila as a compassionate person who would be able to sympathise with our predicament, then you should know she was wrong. I tried talking to her earlier today, she gave me this nasty look and ordered me to leave her presence."

"That doesn't sound like Bastila."

Rilana shrugged in a mildly aggressive way. "That's what happened. Merena'Likta was a bit nicer at least, but she didn't want me spending time with the Jedi children at all. So, I'm not going to apologize for feeling a little bothered, and maybe just second guessing the decision to come here."

"I think some overly cautious people is better than the physical embodiment of misery and suffering."

That gave him the opportunity he had sought. Rilana was in a crucial position, and it had fallen to him to ensure she went down the right path. Not the responsibility he had expected, but despite his reluctance he finally felt ready to handle it on behalf of the others.

When he approached her, it with a hand of comfort to her shoulder, and a confident look he forced himself to keep for the sake of making what he had to stay stick with her.

"I can't begin to describe how much anguish, how much confusion I'm sensing from you just from being in the same room. The fact is that none of us are fully settled yet, no-one has a comfort zone to retreat to, and so a lot of Jedi are going to be more reserved until then. I realize it may sound unfair, but in this kind of situation, the first step falls to you Rilana. You need to become comfortable with them before they become comfortable with you."

Rilana was ready to pull away from his hold in annoyance. She didn't like the notion that she had to be consoled like that. But then she often forgot just how young she was anyway. And more importantly, how much she missed having someone looking out for her interests for a change.

She returned to the lounge and sat down quietly. Her hands went to her face in an upward rub that at least soothed some of her lingering issues. When Masadar sat down beside her, leaving a respectable distance between them, one last sigh came.

"There's one thing in particular that's been weighing on me for over a year now. I'm still at a loss on what to do about it."

"Go on."

In her moment of tension, she rolled the tip of her left lekku between her fingertips as if to draw out what she wanted to say through it instead. The subtle parts of Ryl didn't seem suitable. "Revan has become something of a legend to the galaxy now. A fallen hero returning to glory again after his battle with his own darkness, saving lives and stopping the destruction of the Republic. Am I wrong?"

Masadar shook his head. He had an ugly feeling that he knew where she was going with it."

"The children know that he was a Jedi who turned to the dark side and was overthrown by Malak, and that he returned to Korriban to return the favour." Her breath began to shudder, with just the faintest cold to it when she exhaled. "Some of the older ones already believe he orphaned them. And the rest will put the pieces together when they hear the great tales of Revan the Redeemed. Hero to all but the children he turned into orphans, either directly or as a consequence of his actions. Can you imagine what kind of bitterness that kind of praise about him from others will form in them?"

"A bitterness that could undermine everything they are taught about turning away from the dark side and learning to embrace the hard but true way of morality and goodwill?"

Rilana pursed her lips. "That's oddly specific, and a little poetic."

"I've asked myself that same question about Revan as well. Yet another in the long line of fallen Jedi, but possibly the first to make such a complete turnaround. It's unprecedented, and I get the feeling many still don't know what to think, five years later."

For a moment, he sensed the presence of another nearby. After a cursory glance around the room, he looked back to Rilana.

"The reasoning in my head is… well, complicated as you'd expect. I really don't know how I would explain such an issue to an adolescent, let alone a child."

"Explain it to me then." She sat back up to attention, brushing both lekku behind her shoulders while she did so. "I'll convey it to them in whatever way they need to understand it."

Masadar cleared his throat, a little disparaged, but this time willing to give it a go after all that had been said.

"The fact is, there's always a hard truth about legends, the ones of our time anyway. And, it's that they're still people, like you and I, people who are just as capable of making mistakes as anyone. They're never infallible, we just choose to either see only the good or bad they did as a whole, in most cases anyway."

He paused for breath, still sensing that other presence, but now determined to carry on.

"I don't think that's a bad thing, not entirely. Yes, we need to learn from the mistakes of others, and yes those mistakes can be tragic. But if we go around pointing out all the flaws in heroes, they stop being heroes. They stop giving hope to those who know them as a legend, to those who aspire to do good deeds like them. Revan was hardly a perfect man, he did some terrible things in his time. But if people remember him as the man who had the power of the Dark Side in his hand, and turned away from it because he felt it was the right thing to do, then I can live with that."

A long breath was drawn while he looked away from her, closer to the door where he sensed the other. "After the devastation Exar Kun wrought, I think the galaxy needs something new to look towards. The Jedi might have genuinely believed redemption was beyond the Sith after his time, but now they know that it is still very much a possibility for even the darkest soul to have a change of heart. Whatever Revan did, before or after his change, will always be second to that monumental achievement. We shouldn't forget the mistakes made, but we also shouldn't let them be the primary definition of his legend."

His gaze had become distant throughout what he had intended to be a small explanation. When he finally realized he had gone and made a full blown speech, he turned back to Rilana with an apologetic look. "That got a little…"

To his great surprise, there was a tear rolling from her left eye. And for the first time in a long while, he saw a genuinely funny side to the matter at hand.

"Come now, surely listening to me ramble on isn't that awful."

When Rilana did finally notice the tear, she brushed it up onto her finger, staring at it with a look of innocence, almost appearing confused by it. "I don't think I've had tears in over a decade now…" When she breathed in, it was shuddering, and noticeably warmer than she had ever felt in her life. In fact, despite the cool nature of the room, she felt quite comfortable indeed. "Is this what it feels like? Not being immersed in the dark side constantly, this warmth?"

"Well I doubt it's the other reason for feeling warm that comes to mind, if I might be so bold." Masadar felt a smile creeping up. For all his doubts, concerns and worries about having failed, there was a new feeling that he had just made a breakthrough in undoing the damage the Sith had done to their own kind. Not through using his empathic powers, or even the generalized ones the Force bestowed.

When the adolescent girl hiding behind the doorway finally made her appearance, he motioned to the space between himself and Rilana for her to sit down in. In his eyes, no longer yet another troubled child who would face an upward battle to overcome the darkness inherited from her parents. There was certainly a challenge ahead, just not a futile one that he dreaded anymore.

"Is it true? What you said about Revan?"

Masadar looked to Rilana, then to the girl situated between them, nodding sagely while resting a hand on her shoulder. "I never met the man, and perhaps its better that way. I don't think we'll ever truly know who did what that day, but I do know he had good intent throughout, and that if he could have avoided that tragedy, he would have done so."

After another look across, he lifted his hand to the girl's head and ruffled her hair gently, undoing some of the effort made to comb it down into a neat ponytail, but not without good intent of his own. "So, what's your name young one?"

The girl looked up at both Twi'lek, waiting for an approving nod from Rilana before finally focusing on the man to her left.

"Elira."

It was a moment of mixed feelings for Surik.

Setting foot in the Temple after ten long years carried a great emotional weight to it. The feeling that she had truly come home, that her exile was over.

Setting foot in the newly reconstructed Council chamber was another weight altogether. Her memory of that very day, rife with all manner of feelings felt just as fresh in that moment. She could see every one of the Council members sitting before her, passing judgement on a matter they knew nothing about, but believed they had every authority on.

She took a deep breath, and released that memory from her mind at last. The last remnant of the old Council was gone from her mind.

When she approached the Grand Master's chair, she no longer felt Vrook's lingering presence in it. Like all the others, it was just another seat waiting to be filled.

How easy it would be to sit down there herself, to postpone her plans, and see the full restoration of the Order.

The most she did was reach out her hand, eyes closed, as if cleansing that key place in preparation for the one who was to lead in her absence. One thing remained clear; it was not a place she would ever find herself in.

"Revisiting the past?"

"Putting it behind me, actually." She opened her eyes and lowered her hand, half turning towards Bastila while she walked towards the centre of the room. "It's time we discussed who will form the new Council. Knowing just how busy you've been, I wanted to wait until you had time enough to rest and think."

Bastila stopped right beside Surik, taking a long look at the Grand Master seat herself before looking to her. "I can't lead the Council if that's what you're thinking. However much Carth and Mission might describe me as 'bossy', I have a strong feeling that it is not the place for me."

"I wasn't going to presume as much. You've got a son to raise after all, that has always been my first concern regarding you."

"Then I appreciate the consideration." For a moment, Bastila heard Atris' voice echoing at the back of her mind, repeating the statement she herself had made to Yuthura in the garden.

All I see is Surik rolling out the changes, on my behalf. I don't recall making that many myself…

"I'd ask that Juhani be considered for the Council. She may be reluctant, but through some of the worst years of my life I've had her unwavering support. And she knows the struggles of moving on in life. That would be invaluable in helping the former Sith overcome the struggles they face."

"I've already got her shortlisted for the long-term."

Surik took a few paces around the room to the seat left of the Grand Master's, motioning her hand to indicate that it was where she expected Juhani to be. A few paces more, she stopped again. "Yuthura is another I'd like to see on the long-term. I realize her actual Jedi training was short, but she still has a wealth of knowledge, and she has the respect of many in the Order already."

"Including mine."

After another nod, Surik walked back to the two seats right of the Grand Master. "One of these I'm leaving open until you've had time enough to consider whether or not you want to actively serve. I think they can manage with eleven for a time. The other…" She tightened her lips. There was a faint feeling that she was about to encounter some resistance. "I'm considering Masadar'Arani for it. He is relatively young, but he has been trained in the Jedi ways, and even if he feels he cannot help out in the field, having his kind of stabilizing presence here is also invaluable."

"Sound reasoning. While I feel he could use another year or two of training, you were quite right in demonstrating that we just can't spare anyone for the sake of completion at this time."

Surik drew a small breath. The sensation of resistance was still there, and there was only one other that really stuck out as potentially being a contentious decision.

"The other seven can be drawn from those we can trust to lead and decide effectively. I know you have reservations about Mira and Atton, but they are quite capable, and having Council members who are eager to remain active in the galaxy is a very necessary change from the old one."

Bastila gave an approving nod while she too circled the room, looking to the other desolate chairs. "I'd leave a space open for when Master Vandar's successor arrives. I've spoken with him, a more reserved man called Utan, and quite the proficient in lightsaber construction and handling from what he's told me. In time he can move up to a long-term role anyway."

"Does he speak like Vandar, or in the more traditional manner?"

Bastila frowned at the implication, but knew well enough to let it slide. "He speaks as we do, yes."

The frown wasn't missed by Surik, but she too chose to ignore it. "I'll feel a lot better when he arrives. I do miss Vandar's presence."

"As do I."

When the silence set in, Bastila's arms began to fold. The fact that they had skipped over the position of leader since her refusal was hard to miss. And she was beginning to sense that Surik had mixed feelings about the matter herself.

"Are you having second thoughts about leaving?"

Surik only took a long breath, eyes beginning to drift away from Bastila to the view of nighttime Coruscant beyond. "I'm not sure. Part of me wants to stay here, to continue guiding the Order for another year or two, until we find someone truly capable of taking my place." Another breath, and she looked back to Bastila. "I hear his voice every night, at the exact same hour. A distant call to arms. The Order may need me, but Revan needs me as well. And while numbers here are few, out there, he is alone."

Her eyes lowered to the floor, watching her steps as she approached Bastila, eventually looking back up to meet her weary gaze. "I can't promise that I'll bring him back, if I even can return myself. But I will try. For you and your son I will try." The faint smile crept onto her face at last. "Whether I do or do not, try is all I can promise, and exactly what I will do."

"That's more than I could possibly ask of you, Meetra. Thank you, truly."

She was ready to leave at that. The soft clack of her boots seemed distant compared to when she had entered. There wasn't a pressing concern any longer that was keeping her rooted in the moment. They had just openly discussed one of the most crucial decisions of the restoration as a whole, and both come to similar conclusions. Moreso, Surik seemed to be going the extra step to accommodate her. The concerns planted in her mind were nothing more than an unwanted distraction.

And yet, at the doorway, she couldn't help looking back over her shoulder, wanting the answer she hadn't actually heard yet.

"Who do you have in mind for leading?"

Surik had been watching her departure up until that moment, where she had to break eye contact again. The feeling of discomfort was growing strong. Perhaps it was better to discuss it openly as well…

"There's two possibilities in mind. I need more time to consider them both. But if you were thinking of someone else?"

Basila shook her head one last time. "Apart from Yuthura, no, but I doubt she would be willing to take on a larger role anyway. Perhaps it is something that requires wider discussion."

"Perhaps. I'll keep thinking on it. Sleep well Bastila."

In the hall outside her quarters, just as she was returning for the night, Bastila felt a sudden urge to stop and turn around.

For a moment, she swore that someone had been standing there. Someone with an odd feature to their face that she couldn't quite make out. When another look turned up nothing, she sighed, resigning the moment to a trick of weariness and made her way inside.

There was freshly made tea waiting for her inside, a courtesy from Merena that she was incredibly grateful for when provided, always when she felt she needed it most.

Her quiet sips were the only sound to be heard for a while, until she reached the doorway to Vaner's own room. Just like every other night, he was sleeping peacefully, his breathing a steady sound that always made her feel relieved. Despite all that had happened, he didn't have to live with nightmares.

She entered her room after leaving him a goodnight kiss, finding it bathed in soft moonlight through the one-way glass in the ceiling. Above, she could just make out Hesperidium and Centax-2 through the array of ships and satellites outside the atmosphere.

A gesture towards a nearby panel closed the panels on the ceiling, something she often did anyway to feel reassured of privacy despite how effective the glass was.

When she did lay her head down to rest on the appropriately simple bed, she was comfortably wrapped in white, left to stare up at the soft cream of the ceiling panels before settling into sleep.

Rather than settling into her usual pattern of meditating on the mysteries of the Force, she found herself in an entirely new and unfamiliar realm.

It was a desolate brown, uncannily like Korriban with the red drained away. And yet, it didn't carry the stench of darkness, or the dreaded chill that the world bore to it. There were no statues, not even any sign of a structure on the surface. But then it was possible the great winds tearing across the surface had eroded them away long ago.

"Is this an attack on my mind? If so, you have a poor choice of visuals to try and intimidate me with!"

A harsh whisper from behind made her spin around. The air rushed out of her body, replaced by a single stabbing pain that went right through her chest.

Darth Revan was standing there in full robes, hood and mask, just as he had been all those years ago. Unlike all those years ago, there was a streak of blood slashed across his mask. And he was in great pain.

"Bastila! Don't let her leave!"

"Kanjeff." She took a step forward, to which he waved his hand as if to warn her to stay away. "What happened? Where are you?"

He fell to one knee, a chilling cry of pain escaping the mask. "Don't ask! Don't ever come! They cannot escape! The Sith-"

With one last chilling cry of pain, Revan crumbled into the bleak dust. Over his body stood Meetra Surik, lightsaber in hand. Her right eye had been gouged out, and there were blood splatters all across her robes. The only expression on her face was that of utter failure.

Failure to save him?

Bastila took another step closer, her jaw hanging in shock. Her hand began to reach out towards Surik. Disbelief was overwhelming.

Another hand from behind grabbed her shoulder and pulled her around. In that moment, she saw herself. Three lines adorned her alternate's face. Black, grey, and white.

"Don't betray the Exile."

The next thing she saw was the hallway to Vaner's room, having sat up abruptly. She felt hotter than she had ever been during Jakku's tropical summer, taking a full minute to realize she was in a full sweat.

By then, she had rushed to the bathroom to wash down her face, still shuddering at the very vivid experience. In all her years, even when travelling with Revan and sharing visions of his lost memory, she had never experienced a dream that felt quite so real.

Speaking of the present, wearing the mask of the past. And warning her not to follow.

Her skin began to cool off, as did the shock of the experience. She looked up into the mirror ahead and saw her reflection. Not a duplicate, and certainly not bearing three distinct markings.

A sigh of exhaustion came at last, her lips trembling still, but no longer shaking uncontrollably.

"Shadows in the hall, fever dreams on the eve of great change…"

Not fifteen minutes earlier had Surik mentioned hearing Revan calling for her aid, and she was already now imagining something similar. Some part of her wanted Surik to stay, to make the hard decisions on her behalf. And her overactive paranoia was still not willing to die off.

"Just abstract thinking, nothing more."

She stared at her reflection again, pondering on the three marks. If they were relevant to her past experience with the Force, then it was a little on the nose, something she felt even Mission would say was excessively obvious. And as for her present…

"Is she going to arrive too late to save him? How would I even betray her?"

While in quite a good mood from his newfound success, Masadar still couldn't help but feel disgruntled at being summoned from his rest. Worse still, he hadn't the faintest clue who it was on the other end of his communicator, save for the fact that it was a woman who sounded surprisingly confident in asking for a midnight chat.

It wasn't until he reached the hall in question that his heart sank. The very same one that Surik had been very clear about avoiding at all times, though in her own words it was to ensure the privacy of the guest staying there. And as far as he was aware, only four people knew anything about that guest beyond what she looked like. And that was only because she had left the room to help move a dangerous artifact.

All of that in mind left him feeling very hesitant when he approached that door. There was a definite dark presence to it, and yet so very different from the one Korriban perpetuated. At the threshold, he didn't feel dread.

He felt anger. Seething anger, the sort that went well beyond what anyone would be normally capable of experiencing at a given moment. It was ancient, and well set in.

And abruptly gone when the door opened at last. All that remained was a very faint chill and a very dark room.

"Inside."

With a frown, and a tap to the lightsaber at his side for assurance, he stepped into the room. The door closed almost immediately, which of course heightened his concern.

Walking in without telling anyone was a particularly stupid thought that was sure to see him get an angry speech similar to the one Algwinn copped on their return.

"Sit."

At that, Masadar went for the attempt at defusing his own worries. "Gladly, when I work out where the seats are."

The ambient lights around the room began to grow at last. Soon enough he could make out the shape of the woman, kneeling down in front of a small table, apparently staring at a candle. When he moved closer, he could see that it had been extinguished just moments earlier.

He glanced at it just for a moment. And then glanced again. And again. Soon he became consciously aware that he couldn't actually look at the candle directly. Something always made him look away before he could stare at it for too long. A powerful mind trick of some sort that he had yet to encounter before.

"Sit."

He disregarded his suspicions about the candle for the time being, circling around to kneel down opposite the woman. Now that the lights around were at a suitable level, he could better see the scars that adorned her body. There was a minimal wrapping around her chest, leaving much of her back, stomach and shoulder region open to view.

The scars were definitely ritualistic. And more worryingly, some looked self-inflicted.

"Masadar'Arani of Ryloth. Strong in the light of the Force, but doubtful of his own ability. You have a brother back home, a mundane who oversees farms and cattle. You also bear a cybernetic implant inside your right lekku to correct a childhood defect."

Masadar frowned again, but remained strictly calm. "Nothing a quick search through the database wouldn't uncover. If you're trying to intimidate me by acting as if you simply know these things, it won't work."

"Intimidate?" Dana's eyes flicked open at last, glaring right back at the Twi'lek before her. "Surik asked me to help her end the Sith threat without bloodshed. I have formulated a plan, and you hold a key component to enacting it."

He nodded with a bit of a disgruntled expression. "My empathic powers aren't enough. Any Sith of normal strength will sense the invasion and lash out before the calm sets in. I doubt you knew that, seeing as it is something that has yet to be put to any kind of record."

"I knew that before you even went to Korriban, actually."

"Oh I'm sure. But please, tell me how it's still going to help."

Dana's lips twisted to one corner, holding back a scowl. Her eyes went to the candle for a few moments, then back to him again. "There's a very simple reason why it didn't work. You are Jedi through and through; the light is so strong in you that your very presence makes me sick. And it makes Sith equally sick. Before you even get near enough to talk their defences are already on the rise. Try anything and they will resist with all their willpower. It is a simple irony that your strength is exactly what undermines the solution."

"And you're proposing I let myself fall from grace?"

"No, you're too pure for that. Though the thought is amusing nonetheless."

Her hands lifted off her knees and cupped around the candle. In a puff of fire it vanished, leaving Masadar astonished. When her hands returned to her knees, it was with a firm clap and a bracing inhale from her.

"To be blunt, you need to find a woman who hails from the dark side, and breed a new empath with her. Preferably one equal to or stronger than you in power."

Masadar nearly choked on his breath, already surprised by the vanishing candle, and now hit with quite possibly the last thing he expected to hear in his life.

"Breed? Do you realize the catastrophic events that have resulted from Force users breeding in the past? And now you speak of it as if it is just a casual step in this plan of yours?"

"You exaggerate, as I've sensed you have a subdued tendency to. Miraluka do not breed power hungry tyrants, nor do they suffer catastrophic events from within. Katarr was an external case after all."

Before he could protest further, she raised her hand with an insistent glare for his continued silence. "The facts are this. Empaths are a rare breed in the galaxy, and those of your power do not manifest on their own more than once a thousand years. The Sith cannot be allowed to hide for that long. So, in order to stop them peacefully, you need to bend the rules and take matters into your own hands. This is the only viable way forward."

The absurdity of how it all sounded grew to be a bit much for Masadar. There was a fine line between him cracking up in laughter, and outright walking through the door and speaking of it to no-one ever again.

"A woman from the dark side? What, so my theoretical child has some common ground with the Sith he is sent off to pacify?"

"Precisely."

His deluded amusement died off rather quickly. Doubts aside for the moment, there was a logic to what she was saying. An empath who was closer to the fine line between the light and the dark would theoretically not upset a Sith's defences so quickly. And yet that fine line was exactly what brought back the worries and concerns.

"I suppose you've got someone already in mind then for me to settle with. Someone who knows enough about the ambiguity of the Force to keep my still theoretical son from falling to the dark side anyway? That would have been so incredibly helpful in pretty much all of Jedi history."

"Drop the sarcasm, Masadar. It isn't funny that the woman with every reason to despise the Jedi is taking this more seriously than the Jedi himself."

"It's hard to under these circumstances. How would you feel if you were suddenly told to propagate with a Jedi to pass on some gift that could potentially destroy your people?"

Her expression remained deadly cold, hiding the billowing rage within. "You don't want to know that answer, because of the two of us I'd expect you to be the better person and show both restraint and an open mind."

A hand lifted to the table, and with another gesture produced a shallow metal bowl in the same puff of flame she had disappeared the candle with.

"The Jedi are masters of deception, mostly of themselves, choosing to ignore the feats that can be accomplished with an open mind, and more importantly, an awareness of their own self. The same applies to the Sith, the two halves are locked together. It takes an outside perspective to see where the flaws lie, and where the common ground is to be had."

There was a slight wince when she stabbed a nail into her own palm. The newly bloodied finger extended out to point into the bowl, letting a small trickle of blood flow down from the wound to fill it. When there was enough there, she gestured again, setting the bowl alight.

"I am not asking you to betray the ideals of the Jedi in order to let others maintain them. Breeding a new empath that can walk the line between the two orders does not require love, it requires a focused mind that knows what the priority is. It also requires a decisive mind that will end a threat if one arises, even if that threat is his own child, should he fail to guide them correctly."

Once the fire in the bowl had died down, a small crystalline formation remained. With her outstretched hand, now seemingly healed of the cut, she delicately lifted it out of the bowl and held it up between the two.

"My people developed a technique that allowed us to explore the nature of the dark side without succumbing to the worst of its effects. Imbue the child who will walk the path in between with this, and you might just avoid creating one of the most terrifying Sith Lords to date."

Masadar looked at the formation with a scrutinizing gaze, then at Dana. "Why now? And why share this technique in a way that only one can use?"

Dana's face went colder still. "Trust needs to be established now, not when the moment arrives. And that is a gift for whomever receives it. It bears the weight of far more than the blood of my people, something I absolutely won't give to anyone freely. And despite your insolence, I find you charming and reasonable enough to follow through with the plan without my observation."

After turning it in his fingers again, he carefully placed it back down in the bowl. A disturbing thought had occurred to him. "You're talking about yourself. This is all an attempt to seduce me…"

"Oh please. I'm doing what Surik asked of me. You know the first phase, you have a necessary tool for the second, and the third will come down to how you choose to proceed." She lifted both hands palm up and produced a flame in each. One white, one black.

"Raise your successor in the ways of the Jedi and you repeat the exact problem you are in."

She clenched down on the white flame.

"Let your mate raise them in the ways of the Sith, or whatever dark heritage she hails from if you have some imagination, and you will create a tormented monster that will break the mind of any who go near them."

She clenched down on the black flame.

"Let them find their own path, with just enough freedom to not fall to either side, and maybe you will get your champion of pacifism by the time the next upstart Sith comes to play." She lowered her hands. "I suppose you'll get some Jedi children in the meantime from those who aren't favoured by your genetics. Just be wary of the fact that girls are far more likely to draw from the dark side than boys in your future family."

"Yes, because alignment comes from chromosomes, just as the connection to the Force comes from genes. You're clearly a master biologist."

"What did I say about sarcasm?"

"Sarcasm? I recall being referred to as charming and reasonable, but nothing about that."

Dana broke into a scowl briefly. Just enough to make it clear to him that she still wasn't seeing anything humorous about it. "Whatever, my task is done. Go contemplate, talk with whomever you have to." There was a small scoff when he finally began to get up. "I expect we'll meet again eventually anyway."

"Oh? So you're staying here after all?"

"I'm effectively forbidden from leaving for one. And all I meant was that they will probably need an empath for the process I've already decided to call 'the Revan treatment'. For the sake of being self explanatory."

He tried not to let the thought get the better of him as it was shoved to the forefront of his mind. Of course, all he had said about Revan in admiration when consoling Rilana had been conveniently forgetting that there was a nasty side to the whole matter. He really didn't like the idea of participating in something similar himself.

"So that it then? You help us, and they wipe your mind? That doesn't seem like a deal Surik would ever consider fair."

By then he was at the doorway, where he was finally stopped by her chilling laugh.

"I asked her to give me that mercy. Sure, given enough time the person you've just met will probably resurface in bits and pieces. But hopefully by then, the Dana Lauran you'll come to know will have a much more favourable view of the Jedi. Try to give me a satisfactory personality, alright?"

Masadar didn't say anything more on his way out. Unlike his last conversation with Yuthura, he didn't have any desire to look back. Trying to block out what he had just been told was all he could do for the time being.

Surik waited in silence a whole minute before speaking up. At the meeting table, on the day of one of their most crucial decision processes yet, over half of the people she expected to be there were absent. She was by no means upset or bothered by that fact, just surprised that she was early by comparison despite taking far longer to arrive than she had hoped.

And while Aibrehl and Shara Mires were people she felt she could pass the time in conversation with well enough, Sereti was the one who looked most eager to speak up. While her behaviour certainly wasn't as disrespectful as some made it out to be, this was one such event that would be better off without her interjections.

But, rather than letting them happen after the fact, and with little else to do, she eventually decided to tackle the potential problem head on.

"Sereti, don't take this the wrong way, but why are you so abrasive?"

Now more than ever she was glad Miraluka didn't have eyes. Just imagining the glare she was getting from both Sereti and Aibrehl was making her wish she hadn't just gone and been so loose lipped about the matter.

Shara's face went right into the palm of her gauntlet. Some of the others to her left muttered to themselves in their native language.

Sereti herself was quick to retaliate with one of her quips. "Master Jedi, why are you so completely lacking in the art of subtlety?"

"Dying twice at Malachor probably put a dent in my social skills. And now that I think about it, blunt is a more fitting word."

She was incredibly relieved when Masadar and Yuthura finally showed up, deep in discussion about something that they wrapped up before entering earshot of the meeting table. Masadar in particular looked to be perpetually disturbed.

The rest soon arrived at their own intervals, some looking more ready than others, but she was about as far from a position to ask why as she could possibly be at that point.

Amidst the small discussion that began with the others, she noticed Bastila beckoning for her attention well away from the table. There was a definite look of concern about her.

"Something wrong?"

"I don't know." Bastila's arms were firmly folded. The feeling of insecurity hadn't gone away since the night before. "It's been awhile since I had nightmares, long after I came back to Coruscant. And they chose last night to resurface."

Surik nodded in a vague knowing way. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have mentioned Revan. I sensed him trying to reach out more than usual. And I certainly didn't mean for that assurance to cause distress."

For a long moment, Bastila remained quiet. Throughout the night, and the waking morning, she had gone over the nightmare again and again, trying to discern anything she could truly consider meaningful.

"It was only an uncomfortable reminder. Unfortunately I learned nothing of value. I highly doubt it was a shared vision of what lies ahead for you."

Don't betray the Exile…

"In any case, I didn't mean to keep you this long. I just felt you needed to know that I'm quite alright. Whatever discussion there is to be had can wait for another time."

"Fine by me."

They returned to the meeting table, at which point the quiet discussion went silent again. Everyone had a fair idea of how important that meeting in particular was, and whatever had happened even minutes earlier was no longer a priority.

After a quick glance around the table, Surik smirked a little, placing both hands on the edge before her. "Might want to make room, there's one other who will be joining us."

At the other end of a table, Juhani and one of the attending Felucians stepped to either side on an impulse. Between them strode Dana, taking her spot at the table with a small smile of her own.

"How considerate of you to remember." She looked around the faces now fixated on her, winking to Masadar in a way that made him recoil to her amusement, and finally back to Surik and Bastila at the other end. "So, I get to meet my pseudo-executioners in advance after all. How nice."

"Ignore her exaggeration." The smirk vanished while Surik looked to the others, already showing their concern. "She's here because I want her to come around without submitting to a mind wipe and reconstruction, something she requested of myself and Bastila the night before."

"Just get on with your meeting. I won't be changing my mind."

After one look to Bastila, Surik did just that. "As you all well know, there aren't a whole lot of Jedi veterans left, let alone those who can be trusted to lead the Order in these coming years. As such, the Council will consist of a handful of current Jedi that Bastila and I have selected, alongside those from our allies that can serve until permanent members are able to take their place." She took a small breath. "That and the position of Grand Master is going to be a cursory title for the time being. There's no need for presumption or whatever in regards to who is chosen for that role, we just need someone specified as Council leader."

With a quick gesture, she brought up a holo-display of the Council seats as a visual aid for delegation. "For the inner circle, we've nominated Juhani, Yuthura, Brianna, Utan and Masadar. Bastila will be semi-active at her discretion."

She looked to the four present in turn. Juhani was quiet, and perhaps a little nervous, but her demeanour suggested that she was unsurprised by the nomination. Yuthura merely nodded in acknowledgement, while Brianna remained stoic. Masadar was the most surprised by far.

"Me specifically?"

He couldn't help but glance at Dana again. She was smiling back, acting as if she knew all along yet again. It was still an issue that had to wait for when he had time to reason it out with Yuthura and his apparent fellow Council members.

Bastila took her turn to speak up. "You've been raised as Jedi, and your rationale is strong. This isn't a matter of how strong someone is with the Force, or how authoritative that someone is."

Surik nodded in agreement, after another breath, she filled out some of the seats in the display with vague shapes that imitated their counterparts.

Before she could continue, one of the Temple messengers called Bastila away again, who parted with a small gesture to go on in her absence.

"So far, we have Atton and Mira planned for the outer circle, seeing as you both are going to be much better off out in the galaxy acting with Council authority, rather than being required to stay here on a regular basis. The same applies to the other three from whichever group they come from."

"Oh good, I was beginning to feel like you forgot about us."

The tone that Atton had made Surik a little concerned, enough to pause yet again for thought. The worrying thing was that it didn't sound like another sarcastic remark, rather a genuine one.

"I haven't forgotten about anyone. The whole point of forming a Council now rather than waiting for a more well rounded selection is to address the very fact that Bastila and I alone can't keep up with everyone's tasks and assignments for much longer at this rate."

"You could have tried asking before."

From the table, they all heard an exclamation from Bastila. Surik and a few others glanced over, seeing that she was in heated discussion with someone via holocom.

While concerned further, she chose to ignore whatever the other conversation was for the time being. "We wanted everyone else to ease into Jedi life first. Now that things have settled, we can restructure without massive confusion."

She heard Bastila starting to march back over.

"Now, as I mentioned, Grand Master is a courtesy title at this point, what matters is that we both have full confidence in Visas' ability to lead the Order-"

When Bastila made her return to the table known, it was with a fierce slap to the surface that silenced everyone watching. This was one of the few times that she was visibly angry. And that anger was directed right at Surik.

"What the hell did you do to Queen Talia?"

A horrible chill began to settle in. Surik glanced to Visas once, who was barely recovering from the surprise at being named to the Council, and now drawing a hard breath in anxiety about what was about to come out into the open. It was a very good thing that Canderous wasn't there to share in the tension.

The smirk had already vanished, and when Surik finally settled down enough to speak, it was replaced with a strictly cold look.

"This is not the place to discuss it."

"Fuck you it isn't! One chance before I put up that message for everyone!"

Surik's eyes narrowed down. That was particularly harsh for Bastila, and her insistence on it being known to all was just as unusual. Now wasn't the time to call her out.

"Fine. I made an agreement with General Vaklu that ensured Talia and the royalists would not be overthrown when he stepped up to leadership. There is a truce in place on Onderon that guarantees both sides have a real chance to come to their own decision about the future of their world. He was ready to drive the Sith out, so I took the only practical option available at the time."

The anger faded in Bastila, though it was not because she was calming down. It was only giving way to a raw bitterness at the truth she had only just been made aware of.

"If that's how you choose to see it, I think everyone else deserves to hear Xaart's last message, seeing as he's just been found dead on Onderon."

It took one breath for the calm focus to break. A sharp inhale, the flicker of realization that her terms had been broken, even if only to silence one man. Things were about to fall apart, and she had no idea just how catastrophic the outcome was about to be.

"Bastila, whatever you've been led to believe, I have nothing-"

Bastila turned away sharply to link the message into the table's projector. As described, Xaart's image was displayed in front of them all.

"Agent Xaart, I believe they're closing in, I need to keep this brief;

I have strong reason to believe the truce between Queen Talia and General Vaklu is not the result of diplomacy. Vaklu has been deliberate about keeping his men away from Talia and her supporters. And yet, the Queen herself has been showing increasing symptoms of overwhelming paranoia. Some close to her have spoken of nightmares, whispers to herself, and one potential case of a mental breakdown.

None of this was present before Meetra Surik returned. Not a single person recalls this behaviour, even leading up to the assault on the palace.

It's been years since I served under her. I'm not one to judge what kind of effect the devastation of war has on a person, but if she is behind Talia's erratic behaviour, it is entirely possible she has also manipulated the political climate of Onderon. She may have been intent on driving out the Sith, but that does not give her the right-"

By the time the recording ended with Xaart collapsing from a blaster shot right through his head, everyone was painfully silent.

Surik's head lowered a little more, a small gesture closing the hologram back down.

"I'll ask again. What did you do to Queen Talia?"

"You know, barging in with an accusation-"

"Answer the question!"

"-in front of everyone is just beyond disrespectful."

"Answer me!"

The harshness Surik's turn to Bastila was very disconcerting to see. "And to think I was trying my best to protect the Republic from harmful ideas and wild accusations that would worsen the situation. That I was trying to spare you all from becoming involved in this mess."

Bastila's voice lowered back down to a menacing tone. "What did you do?"

With one last glance to Visas, to Atton, Brianna, Mira, Masadar and Yuthura, she sighed at last.

"I used a mind invasion to make her more receptive to Vaklu's proposals." Her hand gripped the table. "I saved thousands of lives! I put an end to a civil war that would have destroyed Iziz! One use of a Sith technique with a vastly positive outcome over letting him murder Talia, Kavar and however many innocent civilians that would continue the revolt!"

The look of disappointment that began to spread made her blood run cold.

"And now you all know. Now you're all privy to information that may damn well undo everything we have worked towards. I'm a dead woman already, it's almost certain I wasn't going to ever come back, that terrible truth would have gone to the grave. But now, it's going to ruin everything…"

Of all the people present, the first to speak up was Atton.

"You didn't listen to a word I said on the Hawk."

He walked away from the table.

"Talia's life has been utterly ruined by this. Onderon may fall anyway, will you be so self-assured then?"

Bastila left shortly after.

Some of the others began to depart without a further word, for the most part trying very hard to not let the feeling of betrayal take root. It was a terrible matter that needed time enough for rational thought and contemplation.

"A loyal agent of the Republic dead, a rightful ruler going mad inside her own mind. Not what I would call a positive outcome."

And that was the last of what Aibrehl had to say.

Brianna had turned away, but only to tangle with the conflict in her mind, showing no intention of leaving just yet. Masadar's hand was spread over his face while he sighed in deep thought of his own.

Even Sereti had lost her brazen edge in the wake of that revelation.

"When I said there was an excessive amount of handwringing over mental manipulation…" For the first time, she actually felt a little speechless. "That doesn't apply to this. Using the dark side for anything is just unacceptable."

With her departure as well, the only one left there not feeling distraught was Visas herself.

"I hate to say this, but at one point I did warn you that not being truly decisive would be an undoing. And I hate that it has come to be true, after all you have taught me about the strengths of showing mercy and compassion."

"Visas, shut the fuck up."

Visas turned her head to Brianna, ready for the follow-up insult that seemed inevitable.

When it didn't come, unless walking off was supposed to be the insult itself, she sighed to herself and did the same.

Surik finally lifted her gaze from the table. So many things had to be considered at that moment. What to do about Xaart's murder, how to keep the Order from falling apart again. What to tell the Senate if Onderon seceded in an aggressive manner.

Whether or not she deserved restful sleep after all.

She remained there while the others wandered off as well, one by one, Dana with a vicious smirk, until only she and Shara remained. And the Mandalorian clearly had words of her own to give.

"Mandalore told me you made an impossible choice that day, that he would have followed you to the end, no matter the side you chose to support. It takes something way beyond guts to stand up and take the third path when it branches in two. For what it's worth, you've got my respect for that. Damn whatever anyone else says."

Surik looked back at her. She hadn't seen a look in someone's eyes for over ten years. The look of respect that truly did transcend any and all differences that existed between them. One warrior leader to another.

"Even if some of them are right?"

Shara lifted her helmet off the table. "Especially if they're right." When she put her helmet back on, she was no longer speaking as Shara Mires, or even just a single Mandalorian. In her position, she spoke for far more than that.

"If the Jedi Order fails to survive because of this event, I and my brothers and sisters will be ready. Ready for the next wave of Sith, the next fallen Jedi, the next threat. The Preserver follows you, and we will as well." She slapped her fist across her heart in a moment of pride that almost immediately fell flat after. "Assuming he succeeds in unifying the clans."

"Assuming? My my, that's not very inspiring of you Mires."

She turned on the spot, matching Surik's gaze across the room as Canderous strode across to the table, helmet tucked under his arm.

"So, am I early or late to the meeting?"

On Masadar's arrival at the Room of a Thousand Fountains, there were three Twi'lek occupants. He found Rilana waiting for him near the entryway, following behind until they reached Yuthura's location deeper within the room itself.

A bridge overlooked a long cascade of waterfalls, behind them was the rockface of the mountain itself. One of the most tranquil locations in the entire Temple, it was obvious why she had asked them to meet her there.

"I am truly sorry, to both of you. I came here with a wholehearted belief in what the Exile told me, that there would be no more secrets, no more obfuscation. That we would be part of a far more open-minded Jedi Order. And look at what my belief has led to."

Masadar's head lowered a little. He could feel the confusion emanating from Rilana. She had only heard that there was a terrible falling out at the meeting, apparently not what had caused it.

"Talia can still be healed. Influencing emotions is only aspect of what I can do, from what I've been led to believe…" Yet again, he reminded himself that whatever Dana said was purely coincidental. "I think it's within the capability of an empath to make permanent changes. Or perhaps even undo them from other causes, like the mind invasion."

"And then what? Rather than going quietly, Onderon secedes from the Republic in an outburst. Trust in the Jedi Order crumbles from without as well as within."

Yuthura looked to Rilana, her sorrow growing deeper when the younger woman looked away in distress, then looked back to the cascade ahead, still finding no solace in the peaceful view. "I don't know who to be more upset with. Surik for keeping such a terrible secret, or Bastila for acting so damned rashly. That was exactly when not to bring it up."

"Maybe that was the point." Rilana hadn't moved from her position facing away from them, but she was no longer distressed. Just the cold rationale of an outside observer.

"She trusts the two of you, because you are Jedi, kin to her. It took me a while to work out, but when she looked at me, I'm certain she saw an unwelcome reminder of her own personal failings. A scared young woman who can't escape the dark side without a helping hand."

Her hand gripped onto the railing. Just like on Korriban, she was beginning to feel agitated because of Masadar's active influence.

"Stop. I will say what I need to say and be done with it."

The agitation faded enough for her to turn back a little, just in time to see Masadar's hand lowering back to his side. "Either she doesn't want us Sith to settle into the life of Jedi at all, or she thinks that we've been welcomed back too quickly. I don't care if it's overzealousness, or just arrogance on her part, I don't like her attitude. And quite frankly I don't care what Surik did. One of them has done a hell of a lot to make the children feel welcome than the other. That's my only concern."

Yuthura closed her eyes to sigh in admission. "While I haven't observed that behaviour from her myself, I certainly don't recall her trying to help in that regard either. Perhaps I've simply been too preoccupied with trying to get away from everyone."

By then, Masadar had taken his turn to gaze over the gardens before them. The issue at hand was only half on his mind, the other half desperately trying to push lingering memories of his conversation with Dana out. It made coming to an actual conclusion himself near impossible.

"What are we supposed to do then, Rilana?"

"I'm not asking either of you to do anything except ensure that I and the others are protected. Getting comfortable around here is not going to happen anytime soon after all."

"I haven't lost sight of that. Yes I was reluctant at first, but that's the power of female persuasion for you." He glanced to them both in turn. "Twice over."

Yuthura rolled her eyes.

"I'll talk to Bastila when things have calmed down. Fact is I'm still a new face to her, and until there's a rapport I can't promise anything."

"Then don't. Just make sure that she doesn't decide to bring us into the fray and I'll be satisfied. Get her to apologize for being rude and I might begin to think more of her."

Masadar reached up to his chin, holding it in feigned thought. "I think I can handle the former. The latter might require a miracle if she doesn't open up."

Yuthura broke her own train of thought at that, leaning off the railing at last and beginning to make her way back out. "I suggest we avoid referring to this conversation for the time being. Do your best to avoid confrontations or misinterpretations. As far as either of you are aware, the problem is under wraps."

It wasn't long after entering the seemingly empty cafeteria that Canderous found himself in the presence of Bastila, looking particularly moody. "So, are we going to bother with the pleasantries, or should we get right to the point and be done with it?"

Bastila had to really stop and think about that question, something she hadn't anticipated, but wasn't entirely surprised by either. Well over two months since seeing him in Citadel Station's hospital, and that was after three years of silence since he left for Dxun. Perhaps not a person she actually enjoyed talking to that often, he was still a good friend.

Only now, there was a degree of doubt about whether that remained the case. It was common knowledge to her that he was present at the battle of Iziz, and that subsequently meant he knew about what Surik had done.

"Let's get it over with then. There's still a chance we'll be left with a sliver of respect between us."

"Alright, if that's how you want it." He set his helmet down on a table and leaned back against it, arms folding up. "From what I hear, you messed up bigtime. As described, it sounds awfully like a deliberate smear against her, and that's not like you at all Bastila."

"Oh, I see. Rather than defending your part in the incident with Talia, you've decided to start by putting me to the fire instead. I suppose I should have expected as much from a Mandalorian."

Canderous smirked with a bit of a grunt, hardly fazed by the poor insult. "The way I see it, she made a strategic decision with harsh consequences, and so far she hasn't tried to excuse it. The sign of a confident leader. Pulling a stunt like that in front of others is a very bad sign by comparison. I don't care if the Jedi don't work like a military, you don't make accusations of any kind so brazenly."

The irony of that soon dawned on him. But then of course, Bastila was about as far from the militant mindset as anyone could get. "In any case, this isn't what I expected to see. Actually getting the clans to sit down and stop grabbing for power put me in a good mood. So now I'm being honest and not condescending while I do it."

"Is that meant to be a backhand at me?"

"That depends. Were you expecting an insult, or did you just happen to notice one?"

It finally made Bastila stop and think, even if it began with crushing one of the nearby cups as a means of letting out her frustration. What she had come to expect of Canderous was rather unfavourable, and not at all like the man who had posed such a poignant question to her.

"Can you truly blame me for being on the defensive? I don't understand how Yuthura is able to remain so calm after what she has been through."

"That outburst was not you being on the defensive, don't kid yourself. And since you still haven't answered why it happened, it's about time I ask directly."

After crushing another cup with a gesture, Bastila turned away from the counter to look him in the eye properly. She expected to see the eyes of a seasoned veteran, there to ask the hard questions in a professional capacity. Instead, she saw the eyes of a concerned friend.

"I know exactly what Talia is going through right now. Only it's far worse compared to when Malak broke me. She had no chance against that kind of invasive presence!"

"Actually she put up a decent fight. She has Sith blood in her after all, as does Vaklu." He scoffed again when Bastila turned away with a disgusted sound. "You can act like this is an unforgivable matter all you like. Without citing the obvious example, 'good' people have done far worse in the name of peace. Only Surik had actually achieved it until you kicked the drexl nest back over."

"And how many times are you going to remind me of that?"

"Until you get it in your head that you need to stop this mess from getting out of control. Starting with not hanging around an empty room waiting for people to come berate you. Go berate them first."

When that got nothing out of her, he waved the whole matter off with a small gesture. His helmet went back under his arm, and soon he was on his way to the door at last.

"Perhaps it's long overdue Vaner meets his grumpy uncle, unless you decided to omit tales of the Mandalorian from his bedtime."

While still in great conflict that she was continuing to debate in her head, Bastila did find herself smiling just a little at that. "We'll see. Thank you, Canderous."

"Thank me by pulling it together before it gets out of control. I'm not one for sentimentality."

Barely five steps onto the balcony, Surik was met with the attitude she had wanted to avoid. Not a good sign at all.

"Don't bother trying to justify what you did. The only thing I'm glad about is finally knowing why you've sidelined me this whole time."

For the first time in a long while, she rolled her eyes. Normally she made a point to herself about not doing it with anything Atton in particular said, but this time it was entirely removed from his usual level of snark and deceit.

"Is this how we're going to be from now on? I can try to be reasonable, or I can get excessive on the insults until you do something we both regret."

"What, like trying to kiss you? You're real full of it if you think that's where this is headed."

She leaned in against the doorway. Atton still hadn't turned around, which was unsettling her more. "I don't need your approval Atton, and it's not why I'm here. I just want to know exactly what to expect from you now that things have changed. Whether it's worth trying to fix this bridge you're ready to burn. And you really are the one holding the torch here."

"How poetic and sanctimonious of you."

After shaking her head, Surik left the doorway to move closer to him. It was starting to feel oddly like a conversation Visas had described to her earlier.

"Bastila takes a sudden turn from supportive to bitchy, and now you've come from facing down Darth Sion alone for my sake to this. I'm starting to wonder if there's something in the food."

"Betrayal hurts, a lot. Joke about it all you like, I'm done convincing myself to look the other way with you."

"Suit yourself. I made my reasons clear, for why I did it and why I kept it secret. See you when this bad mood wears off."

She was barely back inside before coming across Visas. After the soured mood from trying to talk with Atton, even her extended patience for her was wearing thin. "How many discussions am I going to get before the day is out?"

Visas pursed her lips, hand soon resting on her hip in a bit of annoyance. "Why make me Grand Master to begin with? I don't doubt that I can keep things in line once this matter blows over, but that was after you named me for the position."

"Well, quite frankly…"

Surik glanced back over her shoulder, then to either side of the long corridor. It was more for the sake of knowing who was nearby than trying to keep yet another secret, though the fact that no-one else was approaching gave her that comfort anyway.

"Between you and Brianna, I felt you were the better choice for this specific role. She needs the balance between greater freedom to act as well as greater authority in making decisions. That, and I'd much rather have the seer be the one to look for consultation, rather than the one giving it."

"I fail to see the difference."

Surik muttered under her breath. "If you perceive an imminent danger, like an unexpected Sith uprising, I feel it's far better that you also have the final decision on how to proceed. There must be an end to warnings going unheeded."

With a forced smile, she put her hand behind Visas' shoulders and began guiding her in the general direction of the main hall, walking alongside. "I really didn't mean to put you in the centre of this mess. But these things happen. And I have every confidence in your ability Visas. Whatever might be said in these coming days, don't forget that."

"My memory is very good, Meetra. But ability is meaningless without respect. And that may be in short supply."

With one last shrug, Surik slowed in her step with a motion for Visas to continue on her way. "It'll come soon enough. I'm certain."

She waited in that spot a while longer, watching Visas go on ahead. So many questions about her remain unanswered, and yet in spite of the unknown she felt assured as ever.

The Force had saved her on Katarr for a reason. And sooner or later, that reason would become clear. The only downside was that she wouldn't be around for that revelation, nothing she couldn't still live with.

At the setting of the sun, Dana left the heavily barred window she had been gazing out of, returning to her seat in front of the low table where the candle burned softly. An opportunity had presented itself, and as promised, she had seized it. The opposing ideas had been set in motion, now was the time to make them clash.

Her arms extended out, eyes closing tight, her chest rising slowly with a long inhale. The candle grew taller, casting more of its faint light over her.

She exhaled; the candle flaring into a burst of red.

"Sow the seeds of discord, nurture the growth of mistrust, bear the fruits of anger."

The flame of the candle exploded in a small shower of crackling sparks, but continued to burn bright red.

"Bring down the foundation of fear, the pillars of lies, the ceiling of false supremacy."

Another shower of sparks erupted.

"Divide the Order! Divide the Exile and the Redeemer! Divide and destroy the Jedi!"

The third eruption caused the flame to rise into a full blown blaze. She opened her eyes at last, gazing into the dark core within.

"I make my last prayer, goddess, before the death of my soul. Let my lies, my deceit go unchallenged. Let your new order of followers continue the work I have begun. Let them bring down the Jedi forever. Let them follow in your name, as Vahla."

For the rest of the afternoon, Surik had been in discussion with just about everyone else at that meeting in turn, Bastila, Sereti and Dana excepted, gathering what they were willing to share on their thoughts about the matter, and offering what reassurances she could under the circumstances.

Most of that was promising that her action was not to become a precedent for any future Jedi, and while some accepted that, others were far less inclined. Quite a few times, she had heard one phrase or another that always boiled down to 'even once is too much'.

It left her in a tense mood when she finally sensed Bastila seeking her out. She had deliberately chosen the highest balcony of the Reconciliation Tower for their inevitable debate. If that attempt at suggestive symbolism failed, she knew of no other way to resolve Bastila's own feud with her.

"No, I didn't come here assuming this was the Tranquility Spire."

"Is that supposed to be funny?"

Surik closed her eyes for a long breath. The tension in her mind that had appeared the night before was stronger than ever now. It had moved on from mere concern over her nominating Visas for Grand Master into a wider worry that Bastila was going to question her every decision. And from the tone in her voice, that worry didn't seem too far off already.

"I'm still not going to apologize. I did what needed to be done, and that's how I'm always going to see it. Xaart's death on the other hand I will deal with in due course."

"Due course?"

When Bastila finally did approach the railing, it was with her arms tightly folded, and a good metre between herself and the very long drop beyond. There was no doubt Surik wouldn't try anything, but under the circumstances she didn't want to take the chance.

And so, her borderline hostile attitude remained. "What due course would that be? Depose Vaklu and make the whole mess a waste that cost a woman's sanity? Slap him on the wrist and let him get away with murder? Or do you intend to let loose some of the more violent Mandalorian clans like Vizsla and Kryze on Onderon to shut them all up?"

"Exaggerating as always."

"Am I really? I'm starting to realize I don't know your way of thinking well at all. Or perhaps I'm just not familiar with the militant mindset."

Surik's lips began to tighten. Her thin patience from the exhausting afternoon was beginning to wear through altogether. And the irritation deep within her mind was continuing to stir.

"What would thinking with actual strategy in mind have to do with any of this?"

Bastila gripped onto her arms harder, making her knuckles pale. She too was feeling an irritation. "Jedi don't sacrifice others for an advantage. I don't care if you think what Talia is going through isn't that bad, it's still wrong, and it very much so crosses one of those lines we agreed to abide by."

There was a tense silence. Surik was fixated on the horizon, trying not to meet Bastila's glare. When she did, it was a small sigh and aversion of her eyes. "While we're at it, why don't you explain why you've been treating Rilana badly? I'm not the only one 'at fault' here."

Eyebrows lowered into a darker frown. The hands relaxed briefly, only to grip around her elbows instead. Less imposing, more defensive.

"Would you want children raised by Sith interacting with one of your own, under the supervision of an actual Sith? She has a long way to go before she can be considered redeemed."

"I don't think she has anything to redeem herself for. But maybe that's the real reason why you told her to leave. 'Unwanted reminder of the past' I believe is how she put it, earlier in the evening."

Bastila took a defiant step forward. "I don't care what she thinks of me. She has only just gotten here, and until she's earned respect my attitude won't change."

"And what about Visas? She's former Sith as well, do you also intend to disregard what she says, if she does go on to be Grand Master?"

A cold gust blew between them. Bastila moved back a little, her arms dropping down altogether as she was caught up in a moment of shock.

"Visas? Of all people, you're making her Grand Master?"

Surik felt herself physically shiver. In the heat of the argument back at the meeting, she had assumed Bastila had heard her proposal, and decided not to bring it up. The lingering concern flared up into a clear warning to herself. More lines were about to be crossed.

There were few things she could say that could possibly keep it all from spiralling downward. She settled for the one that had been on her mind since speaking with Visas.

"Katarr. 472,908 Miraluka. 1284 Jedi. Exactly one survivor. If the Force didn't save her for a reason then everything we believed we understood about it must be fundamentally wrong. How can I just ignore this and put her in some insignificant position?"

"Insignificant…" After turning a half circle, Bastila reached up to her face. In that moment she was genuinely stunned by what she was hearing. "The Jedi are one of the largest, and most powerful independent organizations in the galaxy. Everyone on the High Council is expected to have direct dealings with the Republic Chancellor." She let her breath out in a very exasperated way, turning the other half back to her. "And you think that's an insignificant position?"

"The way you protested sounded a lot like you didn't want her near the Council at all."

"I'm not saying she's completely unproven and incapable. But she is still the last person I would put there."

"Oh come off it Bastila! Would you really want Brianna leading the Council, before she's had experience to temper out and move beyond whatever crap Atris drilled into her head? Would you want Yuthura slowly cracking under the pressure shoved on her shoulders, or Juhani growing restless in a position of authority so high that she feels she's in danger of losing touch with everything she knows? Visas is capable, confident and willing. And she knows better than anyone just how significant the dangers of the dark side are."

Bastila moved in again with yet more exasperation. "Exactly my point! It escapes me how you are still missing it!"

All Surik did was nod. The irritation had grown to annoyance with Bastila by then. And now it was prompting her to take the offense that seemed long overdue.

"Oh, I see your point now. That bit about not wanting to lead the Council? You're backing down on that now I've made my proposal. But what makes you any more qualified? A Jedi upbringing?" She took a threatening step towards Bastila, beginning to lean over her ever so slightly. "A big celebration of victory, praise from the Republic to wipe away the guilt?"

She began to smile when Bastila's expression faltered. It was anything but her contented smirk of peace.

"Visas didn't get to do much in her years as Sith. And yet, your battle meditation killed over two hundred Republic soldiers at least in just one battle alone." The smile grew a little wider, and more malicious. "Come to think of it, forcing a change of mind doesn't sound so bad by comparison. Maybe I was wrong. You weren't judging me unfairly, you were just projecting long buried guilt."

That was enough for Bastila to recognize something was very wrong. And yet, the influence in her mind was driving her to retaliate, not placate.

"Watch what you say Meetra. You killed a lot of Republic soldiers yourself, marching them to their deaths on Dxun."

"Under Revan's orders. Back when he was still a man worthy of respect. Before you got to him."

Bastila wanted to walk out, then and there. And still she remained.

"Don't go there Meetra. Don't you bring him into this."

By then, Surik was revelling in the chance to finally let loose every single thought she had kept well buried. A twisted satisfaction at making it all known, regardless of what it would do to Bastila.

"I'm almost sad I'll have to see what you've turned him into. Picking apart his broken mind, reshaping it into a convenient weapon against Malak. But that's hardly all you did to him."

"Meetra stop!"

She was looming over at that point. All of the frustrations, the anger, and the begrudged thoughts coming to bear.

"All those Jedi rules about chastity from everything. Your inner need to rebel, to just cut loose. And then they give you a shell of a man to mould as needed. Perfect for shaping into what you desired. Someone to fawn over you, push all the right buttons, and satisfy your choking libido."

Her grin faltered back to the familiar smirk at last.

"And in the years I knew Revan, I never once considered getting into bed with him."

She barely even saw the hand coming up. She certainly felt the impact of Bastila's palm smashing into her jaw. The sheer force of the slap made her keel to the right, her left hand swiftly moving up to clench at her face.

By the time she was able to look back up, blood already trickling from the split in the corner of her lip, Bastila was storming off into the Tower itself, already beginning to sob.

Some small part of her was also crying, as if trying to tell her that it had all gone wrong.

And yet, she felt completely validated on the whole matter. The rest of her was glowing with a smug sense of victory. There had been dissent in the Order, and the one at the core of that dissent had crossed the line.

It was simply a matter of waiting for the next day to come, to see what the outcome was.

Who would remain loyal, and who would fall away in their own supposed moral hubris.

Sleep that night for Surik had been more restless than ever. When it came time to wake, and make her usual tour of the Temple grounds, she quickly came to realize why.

Bastila was gone, Vaner with her almost certainly, and without any message left behind. A quick call to the dock master confirmed that she had left the Temple hours earlier, that Atton and several other Jedi had already joined her. Another call told her of several meetings between those Jedi leading up to their departure.

A quick, clean breakaway, like she had wanted.

Again, she forced herself to dismiss the feeling that something was terribly wrong. Things could only improve without the source of conflict surely.

Little concern was given for the empty feeling that the halls had. Not that many had even left to begin with. The impact would be brief in the grand scheme; what was lost in numbers would be gained in focused ideals.

What she did take notice of was just how many people had begun to shy away when she walked past. Conversations died down quickly, eyes were averted, some even took to holding their breath until she passed by.

The only one who didn't seem adverse to her presence was also one of the few she was genuinely surprised to encounter. From the way she was standing however, it seemed as if Juhani had been waiting for her arrival, gazing up at one of the many statues in contemplation.

"She told me everything that happened. The most anyone else knows is that she left that balcony in tears, that you said things to her that made her break down."

Surik remained stoic.

"They've gone to Dantooine, to reclaim the enclave there, and form a new Jedi Order of their own. Soon, I will follow them."

Juhani turned around, looking about as solemn as she ever had. There was only sadness beneath that. "Bastila needs me. If left alone, she might relapse into a darkness far worse than anything she's experienced. For that reason alone I am going to join her on Dantooine." There was a sharpness to her breath when she drew it. "While I may personally think you went too far, Jedi have to move beyond personal feelings, even if we choose to be less restrictive with them. And things will stabilize in this Jedi Order for her absence, that much seems certain."

After a longer breath of her own, Surik cast her gaze down, now relaxing a little more in her position. "I wasn't looking for yet another argument. Had too many of them already." Her head lifted back up, allowing her to meet Juhani's gaze for just long enough. "If I say anything more, chances are it will be hurtful to someone. Maybe I've overstayed my role in rebuilding the Order, and it's well past time for me to leave."

A small shrug was her response from Juhani.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry we didn't have more time to talk. And I'll leave it at that."

And despite her insistence on not saying more, she couldn't help but ask one last question on her departure.

"If I named you Grand Master instead, would you accept?"

The silence was tense yet again. For once, she didn't know what to expect.

"No, I wouldn't. Not even if I felt it could avoid this mess."

Surik left with one last nod. Her assumption was right after all, there was no better choice to be made.

Little time was wasted afterwards. Final discussions with others in the Order to ensure the handover of responsibility was done. Arrangements for the Ebon Hawk to be loaded with plenty of supplies. A message to Onderon demanding General Vaklu's presence on Dxun when she travelled with Canderous and Shara to settle Xaart's fate, and that of Queen Talia as well.

Her meeting with Carth was dry, but not as uncomfortable as she had expected given how close he was to Bastila. He understood the proper code of conduct in such matters after all.

Some further reassurances made to the Chancellor himself that Onderon seceding from the Republic was to be as painless as possible, and her best attempt at explaining why Bastila would no longer be serving on the Council as expected.

The farewell to those in her crew broke through even her recently hardened composure. Atton's absence stung badly, despite her earlier dismissal of his attitude. Even Brianna was brought to admission of very slightly missing his presence.

Canderous was quick to make his way to the Ebon Hawk with utterances about overbearing sentimentality. She found him there later in friendly chatter with Mission and Zaalbar, having arrived expected to both see her off and meet the reformed Council.

It was a hard process indeed to bring them up to speed on what had happened. And despite the smiles and pleasant words, she knew there was a diminished happiness between them for it.

The only one of them all who seemed most optimistic was HK-47, quite surprisingly.

"Relieved exasperation: Oh goodness, it is so pleasing to know we are finally leaving this wretched world of meatbags behind. I have sorely anticipated the battles that lie ahead."

By then they were on the departing vector from the Temple, Shara in the pilot's seat for the trip to Dxun while the others were situated around the common room.

Canderous had given a hearty scoff at that. "I hear you've been very quiet lately, droid. I was almost starting to worry you'd gone and blown a fuse over not getting to kill anyone. Imagine that."

"Assurance: Your worries are not warranted. If you do not recall our earlier escapades together, and that would hardly surprise me, I remind you that I have had to deal with overly pacificistic individuals before. This is hardly enough to drive me towards self destruction!"

"But the thought of people kissing is?"

"Disgust: Please, do not remind me of that again."

There was another scoff from Canderous, who quickly gestured his hand for a stay of peace. "Don't worry, I'm not a fan of it myself. All I'm saying is it's hard to think of even more petty reasons to end it all than what you babble about."

"Assertion: I do not babble! I have many complaints that remain unrectified, and on occasion I choose to voice them, nothing more!"

"Oh, and here I was thinking your whole purpose was 'rectifying problems and problematic people'. Guess my memory is as bad as you make it out to be."

With a hearty laugh, he got back onto his feet and shoved past HK-47 on his way to the cockpit. "Have fun with that Surik. Well worth it if you ask me."

HK-47 looked to her immediately.

She looked back, made a bemused smile, and promptly got up to make her way over to the portside bunk room without a word to the droid.

There was a good minute of waiting in the curved corridor itself before finally coming around and stepping into the room.

It was so easy to visualize Kreia there, deep in meditation, ready to answer whatever questions came with her usual level of mysterious cynicism and 'wise-sounding' opinions.

"Guess you were right in some ways after all. About Atton, the other Jedi, myself perhaps."

Like she had done so often before, she got down on the floor, cross-legged, hands coming to rest on her knees. The empty space ahead stared back at her.

"I know I'm right about Visas. If she were kept alive by the dark side, she wouldn't have turned away from it so easily."

Instead of some snide, cryptic remark, the reply was the faint hum of the ship's engines.

"Bastila has only herself to blame for not seeing that. They all need to get over their own ego, and accept that we are as much servants of the Force as we are wielders of it."

Who would have thought it possible, that someone of your experience could become so hypocritical?

For a few moments, Surik was startled, until she realized it was just her own mind filling in the ambient hum with what she assumed would be the response.

"I'm having arguments with my projection of a long dead woman already. And it's barely been fifteen minutes since we left."

Are you now?

She gasped audibly when a different woman materialized in front of her. After a few seconds, she recognized the other as herself, which confused her a lot more.

The other lifted her head, revealing three distinct markings across her eyes and down the middle of her face.

"Bastila betrayed you by not delivering the warning from Revan. So, I give it to you now while I still can."

Surik's hand was already reaching for her lightsaber, on the off chance she had to protect herself given how unlikely it was that she could strike the apparition.

"Normally I'd listen, but when imaginary voices take form…"

Her other self tilted her head to the left, looking solemn as ever. The grey marking began to glow softly.

"You still have time to turn away from this path. Do not go to Dromund Kaas. Do not look for Revan. And above all else, do not seek out the Sith. That is my warning to you, Meetra Surik of Dantooine, the Exile."

And she was gone just as quickly as she had appeared.

The hum was interrupted by Surik's tapping on the top of her boot that continued until she abruptly stood up.

"I left exile months ago, and even imaginary people are still calling me that."

Two months later…

Even in the isolation of her cell, word had eventually gotten to Atris about Bastila's abrupt departure, thanks in part to the unexpected delay of her trial. And oddly enough, that delay had not pleased her in the slightest. If anything, it added an extra layer of uncertainty that came with more time to think about what had transpired. The Council she had expected to stand before was no longer possible. More unknown faces, more unpredictability, more reason to be concerned.

"Sorry it's taken this long for me to thank you."

Her eyes flicked open. At first, there was confusion. It quickly turned to horror when she saw a familiar face outside the door of her cell.

"By the living Force!"

She lashed her hand out towards the distress button, only to find it halted in place by a gesture from Dana.

"Don't call the guards. Few people know who I really am, I want to keep it that way." She released Atris' hand for a moment, waiting to see if she would press the button anyway. When she didn't, instead composing herself and rising to her feet, Dana smiled. "Better. I'm glad to see you still recognize me."

Atris frowned deeply. By then she had come to meet Dana's gaze from within the cell. For the first time, she wanted nothing more than to have their positions reversed. She was clearly quite vulnerable in there.

"Forty four years. You've barely aged a day."

"You were there when they put me in cryostasis, Atris. What did you expect?"

At that, she went silent again. What an utterly stupid observation for her to make. Were she not feeling rather terrified at that moment, she might just have cursed herself for it.

"Struggling with the guilt then? I wonder, is it because you feel responsible for the slaughter of Jedi, or of my people by Jedi? I'd really love to know which one hurts more…"

"Don't bother, Suroni. I fully expect to find myself at the blade of an executioner, seeing as I'm to be tried by a native of Katarr. I highly doubt you'd violate whatever sanctuary you've been given just to hurt me before that end."

That brought on a familiar wicked grin from Dana. "There's a few things I need to cover it seems, so be patient. First, I'm in no danger of losing protection here. Shan and Surik didn't even realize they were being driven apart, I doubt if any of these lightweight Jedi will be able to sense what I do to you."

She dragged a nail across the thick glass between them. While it left no mark, the sound was incredibly grating to the occupant. "Second, Suroni will be a dead name in a few weeks anyway. So you should get used to calling me Dana Lauran."

For a moment, the fear Atris was experiencing was swept away by a rush of anger.

"How dare you! You have no right to take her name!"

"She's long dead, forgotten by the Order. And believe it or not, I do miss her. Consider it the only way I can honour her memory and not sicken myself."

Her nail lifted away from the glass so that she could gesture her hand again. A piece of physical paper within the cell itself combusted in such a way that left no trace, and nothing that would set off any alarms.

Atris took the point with a deep swallow. "Then, I assume third is the reason why you're here to 'thank' me. Correct?"

The grin settled back into a smile, but didn't lose any of its malicious nature.

"You planted the seed of discord between them. Perhaps to you a statement. To Bastila, a suggestion. And to the powers of Vahl herself, a way into the minds of the two most important Jedi in the galaxy."

A chilled breath escaped Atris' paling lips. She nearly fell over when stepping back in shock. "That's impossible… We destroyed Vahl!"

"Is that what they told you? Dear Atris, I escorted Vahl's Ember off Coruscant myself. And the idiot Jedi didn't even realize. I can assure you, she's very much alive."

Atris finally turned away, a hand clutching at her throat as she found herself struggling to breathe out of pure terror. All those deaths, Vahla and Jedi alike, for an empty victory that had been undone altogether at last.

And even worse, she could already tell Dana had more to say. Her expression practically oozed a sense of having entire control over the situation.

"I also took the time to sneak by the holocron vault. And while you did an impressive job with recreations, enough to fool all the Jedi who have encountered them it seems, I do know a bunch of fakes when I see them. Something I'm assuming was meant to screw them over after your supposed demise. And that would be what stops you from exposing the truth to the Council when you meet with them, no?"

A withering sigh came from the cell. Cornered, cut off from every option that came to mind, and now entirely at the mercy of an enemy she couldn't do anything about.

Up until the moment something stuck out to her at last.

"What did you mean by 'Suroni will be a dead name'?"

There was a hint of relief when it made Dana's smile fade. And that relief was utterly dashed when the smile came back with a shrug accompanying it.

"It seems you caught me out on that one. I can't blackmail you if I don't remember who you are after all. So I guess there's only one option left…"

She took a step away from the glass, her arms beginning to rise.

Atris took a panicked breath, reaching for the button again. This time, her arms were forced against her sides and held there.

"Don't do this!"

"Pathetic attempt at pleading. Goodbye Atris."

There was one last scream as the entire space within the cell erupted into a raging inferno, casting a fiery glow over Dana as she watched in delight.

The panic continued even after she woke up in a startled manner, very much intact and not burned in the slightest. Experience with the Sith holocrons had taught her well enough to recognize dreams and visions for what they were. And that was far from a fevered dream induced by her growing worries.

"Atris, it's time."

With the back of her left hand resting against her forehead, she slowly looked to the cell door. The captain of the Jedi Guards had unlocked it. Two guards stood to each side of him, weapons ready but inactive.

She didn't waste time in getting up and making her way over to the door, doing her best to remain as calm as possible. An incredible challenge given that she now knew Vahl was ready to incinerate her if she spoke a word out of line.

"Who can I expect to be there?"

The captain remained silent, opening the door with a motion until she stepped out, leaving it to close itself while he gestured to the way out.

"No cuffs?"

Again he was silent, as were all the guards. None of them were reaching for any kind of restraint.

"Let's get this over with then."

Not far into the long walk from the detention centre to the Council chamber, she noticed the lack of other Jedi going about their day. In fact, some guards were deliberately stationed in otherwise frequently used hallways, facing away from her.

Deliberate steps to avoid putting her through a walk of shame?

It did actually help ease the concerns held, not being made to feel humiliated. Such a thing would be petty. Something she would have very well done herself to others in another age. She very nearly made Surik go through it all those years ago.

That idle line of thinking left her distracted right until they arrived at the Council floor itself. She had only a moment to catch her breath before the doors slid open at last.

Directly ahead sat Visas herself, looking quite calm and composed. The Twi'lek man she guessed was Masadar was to her left, and to his sat Mira. On the right, Yuthura awkwardly looking away, and a new member from Vandar's species that she had yet to meet.

Five Council members. Brianna, Atton, Juhani and Bastila herself were all gone.

"So, you're Atris?"

Atris herself glanced to her direct left. A very young Miraluka woman was leaning against the doorway there. The uniform was obviously Luka Sene.

"Here to see justice done for Katarr?"

Sereti's lips curved into more of a scowl, a hand brushing up past some of her locks to adjust her visor. "If you haven't noticed, all the guards here are Luka Sene as well, until we get proper Jedi to replace them. I'd watch what you say around us."

After another swallow, Atris looked to the guard captain. He glared back from behind the mask in such a way that confirmed it to her. Through the tiny slits, she saw no eyes.

"We are ready for her."

Once the captain had moved aside, she proceeded on her own, now feeling the full weight of being on the other end of the Council's judgement. Whatever she might have felt on the way over, she fully intended to face them with her dignity intact.

As expected, Visas was first to speak.

"Brianna didn't believe she could face you in this way, and so, she chose to abstain from any decision made here today."

"That would explain why she has refused to visit even once, I assume?"

Visas' lips tightened, as did her grip on the chair while sitting up a little more. "Let me make this clear. I am not presiding over this trial as Visas Marr, as a survivor of Katarr…"

She could hear Sereti's gasp of shock from across the room, choosing to ignore it for the time being. It was the right time to tell her, so that there would be opportunity for her to contemplate it properly..

"Or as anyone with any personal stake in your behaviour over the past decade. You are still welcome to challenge my impartiality when the deliberation is done, but I would strongly suggest you hear what we have to say once you have made your statement."

The formality of it surprised Atris quite a bit. Not even a trace of bitterness or contempt to be found in her tone. She had either truly put her feelings aside, or was expertly concealing them.

Whatever the case, it mattered little at that moment.

"If I were to defend my actions as being for the good of the Jedi, I doubt even I would believe that. I have no delusions about the fact that my attempt to draw out the Sith was a catastrophic mistake, even without knowing the true nature of Darth Nihilus.

And yet, the fact remains that I have helped the Order endure through one of its most tenuous phases, hanging on the brink of total destruction for so long. I will not apologize for what you might see as obstruction, when it was always a matter of preservation for me. It has long been my responsibility to ensure that wholesome ideals are maintained amongst the Jedi, and that we do not allow mistakes to be repeated."

She took a much needed breath, keeping her demeanour very calm. By then, she had sensed Masadar's unique presence, and knew enough to avoid any kind of reaction with him on watch.

"I admit I should have been more vigilant about facing the true threat that Darth Traya posed. That I should not have let myself become any kind of comfortable in the presence of the holocrons. But I will continue to maintain that my intent has never wavered once. I do not want to see the Jedi fall apart completely."

As decided earlier, Yuthura was next to speak for the Council, her earlier apprehensions put aside for the time.

"Some expressed a concern that you would not be so reasonable; it is very reassuring to see that our hopes have not been unwarranted. While it may take several years, perhaps decades to earn back the trust and respect you once held, we do hope you will commit to reform, rather than withdrawal from the Order."

She glanced past Visas to Masadar, who had begun to lean on his right arm while he held his chin in thought. From the moment Atris had entered the room, he had felt her unmistakably controlled calm, and while concerning to a degree, he now had to ignore it in lieu of his segment of the speech.

"It has already been agreed that a period of penance must be settled. How long this will last is to be determined once we have reached a final decision in due course. It is a condition that all returning Sith and Dark Jedi have agreed to submit to, when necessary, as part of their own reformation. The alternative is prolonged confinement. There will be nothing in the way of invasive procedures or techniques any longer."

After a small breath, he turned to Mira, who very briefly rolled her eyes.

"Facts are that whatever you intended, some of the blame lies with you, and we won't brush that away. Being influenced by the holocrons is the only concession we're willing to make on what you did following the moment Meetra set foot on Citadel Station, and it's a small one believe me. There's no way you're getting a full pardon when this is all over, but you're also welcome to try. It might just help your case with the Luka Sene."

Atris couldn't help glancing over her shoulder at both Sereti and the captain, before looking back again in time for Utan's turn.

"I've spent a good while studying the Jedi ways, the customs and guidelines. The conclusion I and the others reached is that we alone are not fit to pass judgement in this situation, so, the Luka Sene will have a collaborative role in the trial ahead. If you have an objection to this, or would nominate a representative, it would be wise to do so quickly."

At last, the mantle returned to Visas, still composed as ever in her place. "You and the others on the old Council passed judgement on Revan, Meetra Surik, and the hundreds of Jedi that went to fight in the Mandalorian Wars before they even had a chance to defend themselves. That is not a practise we will allow going forward. So we intend to see that every one of your actions has been properly examined before the final decision. I suggest you prepare yourself for the coming weeks."

"Weeks?"

"There is a lot to cover. I wouldn't recommend leaving anything out when seers are the one asking the questions."

For a brief moment, Atris had a flicker of panic. The warning about Vahl's presence was suddenly very relevant. And despite her best efforts to keep it suppressed, it was obvious Masadar had picked up on that.

"If being meticulous is the way forward, so be it. I will cooperate."

"Good. We begin in the afternoon. Until this is over, your confinement is moved to this level of the Temple. Make the most of it."

Visas gestured to the guards, who moved back into escort position around Atris and led her out of the Council chamber. A small period of silence followed her departure before the six remaining occupants of the room finally relaxed enough to leave their spots.

"I think that went about as well as any of us could have hoped."

Masadar was about to bring up his concerns, but stopped himself when Visas moved away to converse with Sereti. In the end, it could wait a few hours anyway.

He instead was able to catch Yuthura's attention, knowing quite well just how difficult the experience had been for her personally.

"Doing alright?"

"Yes, better than I expected of myself. I suppose my formerly high opinion of her has recovered a little more for it."

With a small smile, Masadar clapped her shoulder in support. "It was a good call to take a gentle approach. She was reserved, but not closed off. Might just be enough to convince some of the other old Masters to come back at last."

"Perhaps." After a small sigh, she began to slowly walk from the others, wanting a bit more quiet so they could speak comfortably. "Without the Sesk'nabsilai, we're going to need the extra help."

"I thought you didn't like them to begin with?"

Yuthura shrugged in a belated way, soon coming to a stop once they were a good distance off. "They follow archaic tradition, but they are still good people. Our people." She took her turn as observer when Masadar's attention wandered. "Thinking about Dana Lauran, or Rilana?"

"I don't know. Dana should wake up sometime this evening, I think I've got the series of events that need to be imprinted on her all sorted in mind. Quite frankly I still have doubts about that plan of hers. It always felt like she was goading me into a bad decision."

"You could do far worse than settling with Rilana. She's growing fond of you, mostly the support you're giving to the children."

His expression grew weary. Though this time, it was not because of having to care for the children, rather that he had come to so greatly.

After a sigh of his own, and a glance back at the others, he turned away for a bit more privacy to make his concern known. "Are we really sure this is the right move? Training them to fight Sith so that they can train future Jedi children in turn? It's still weighing heavily in my mind."

"Good, it's not something any of us should be content with. When we're dealing with a pattern that led to Exar Kun, constantly questioning our own decisions is exactly what needs to happen if we are going to avoid repeating that mistake."

"That makes me feel even more uncertain, but I understand your point."

Yuthura smiled herself when she took the opportunity to return the show of support. "You're a model new age Jedi. Always seeking the opinion of others without being a bother about it, showing true compassion and kindness for those in need. Don't ignore the hard questions, but don't let them overwhelm you either."

With one last sigh, he allowed himself to relax and accept the advice given. "I'm sure I'll find that balance eventually. Thank you Yuthura."

In the moments before waking, several images flashed through her's mind.

She barely had time to make sense of them before she found herself standing up in a daze, wandering around a dimly lit room. When she noticed a second occupant, a blue man with big tendrils growing out of his head, the most she did was blink in confusion.

There wasn't the faintest clue of who she was or where she was in her mind.

"Oh good, you're awake."

Through hazy vision, she could see the blue man getting up from the chair he had occupied. His hand lightly touched her arm to guide her to a different chair, one that looked and felt far less cushioned than the one he had just come from.

"I'm here to help. In short, there was an accident that caused some severe memory loss. But you're among many friends who are ready to help you in due course."

She blinked again, then groaned as a headache began to set in. All of her body felt sore, and already there was a great sense of overwhelming things around her.

"Take this at your own pace. Breathe slowly, don't try and hold onto whatever comes to mind yet."

She breathed in, letting another painful flash go by, then breathed out. To her surprise, the headache was beginning to subside.

"That's better. Just keep doing that when the pain comes. One step at a time."

Several minutes were spent doing just that, breathing slowly, letting her headache subside, and her vision recover more. After a while, she could see the man much more clearly. He had a somewhat plain, but noticeably comforting face, and his attire looked familiar.

"Who…"

"I'm Masadar'Arani, a Jedi Knight. And you're Dana Lauran, a new padawan in the Order. All will be explained over the course of your recovery. I promise you that."