I. THE COUNCIL
The sun shot streams of light across the horizon as the ground tumbled uncontrollably. Ze'Losh shaded her eyes. The sun's reflection off the sleek Jedi starship only seemed to magnify the light.
As the landing gear creaked into place the dust began to settle. Soon, the landing ramp lowered and out stepped two Jedi, shoulder to shoulder. Ze'Losh hurried to greet them.
"Master Kane, Master Deak." She slightly bowed.
They returned the greeting. The taller and older one spoke first. "It's nice to see you again, m'lady."
"And both of you as well."
The younger Jedi grinned. "Oh come on, Ze'Losh. Enough with the formalities already. I've moped around enough already with this stiff." He gestured towards his older brother beside him. "I'm lucky I wasn't apprenticed to Kane all my life."
Kane glanced over at his younger brother. "You're lucky you made it past the trials."
"Ha-Ha-Hah," fumbled Deak, "hilarious."
Ze'Losh stepped in. "Now come on you two. The Council is assembling soon in the courtyard. You don't want to keep them waiting Master Kane."
"No, I don't."
"Not again," slipped in Deak.
Ze'Losh smiled at the two. "So, shall we be going?"
Deak stepped in and curled his arm around Ze'Losh's and immediately began marching towards the Temple
Kane paused. "Wait a moment." Suddenly he popped back into the spacecraft and returned with the pilot. As they descended Ze'Losh noticed a fidgeting bundle in Kane's arms.
She melted and sprung out of Deak's embrace. Hurrying back, she unwrapped the Jedi fabrics caressing the child. "My goodness," she screamed, overcome with emotion. "She's beautiful!" She began methodically rearranging the bundle, comforting the child. "And so cute." She pinched at the newborn's cheeks. "I've never seen this species before, what is she?"
Kane lowered his hood, allowing the warmth to soak into his dark brown hair. "He is of some rare species, obviously. The computer onboard couldn't come up with anything. We'll be looking into it later."
"He?" grinned Ze'Losh. "Doesn't look much like a boy to me. Are you certain?"
"Oh, we're certain alright." Kane smiled. "Let's get going."
The pilot returned tending to the ship as the three began their journey towards the Temple. Ze'Losh lagged behind, as she became engrossed in caring for the child while the two Starkiller brothers weaved through the tall buildings and navigated the cobblestone maze.
Kane kept his gaze forward all the while ignoring his younger brother's glare.
______________________________
The courtyard was only a small portion of the vast Temple grounds. It was a modest size and located in an open area, in the middle of the Jedi Temple. Encircled by the soaring walls of the Temple, the garden was the pit of the City, and inside throve a variety of life.
The moist ground was caressed by a winding path of smooth red bricks. They always crackled with a homely greeting as they were walked upon. The walls of the surrounding Temple were immersed in lush flora and ivy, and the lustrous earth bubbled with a carpet of soft green moss. And far from high above, the mammoth willows filtered the scorch of the sun, as their long curving branches trickled down and encompassed the entire enclosure.
Wide stone pillars and old carvings rumbled from the ground and settled throughout. The land itself fluttered up and down and side to side as humble silky hills stroked the grounds. And all around a clear and gentle stream murmured through the mounds.
Master Garqhuin Padawan stood in the middle of the courtyard, atop the center hill, and all around him, in the only clearing, sat on the floor, the Jedi Council.
"Welcome, my friends," the tired Jedi began. "I am sorry we could not convene during more happier times. But, as is with all things, in the end, it is all the Will of the Force."
An agreeing grumble and a simmer of nods wove through the circle.
The Master continued. "Most of you know the reasons why this counsel was called for. But for those of you members of the Council who may not have all the details, rest assured, I will go over the sequence of events before we begin."
"Two months ago our planet, Chandrila, fell to the Twelve and the Sith. Ever since that accursed day, we have been on full alert -- throughout Alderaan. All seemed quiet until seven nights ago, the night we lost our first brother."
In the shadow of a willow sat Master Bendu Beren, far in a corner. He held in his arms the infant child, gently rocking it to sleep. His apprentice, Ze'Losh sat near him -- one eye on the baby, one on the Council -- half the time trying to whisper the story Kane and Deak had told her during their journey home.
Padawan paced on the small stone dais that emerged from the earth, the air dancing on his whiskers. He paused a moment to glance up at the grand Jedi walls through the wild willow leaves, a thousand eyes watching him down through the countless Temple windows.
"Four nights ago," he paused to breathe a heavy sigh, "we lost a Jedi sister."
A grave reaction swept the Council.
"And then, just this last night, I lost my apprentice." He slightly tugged at the loose skin under his chin, deep in thought.
One of the Council members stood up glaring at Master Padawan, his heavy eyebrows bristled. "And two Jedi would have been alive today if this Council had taken proper action after the first night! The Sith are now on Chandrila! We must kill them all!"
Master Jimil's views did not differ greatly than Padawan's own. Garqhuin had long been advocating a more aggressive stance and had secretly argued for that belief with Master Beren who simply wouldn't have it. Padawan realized, though, that as leader of the Order he had an obligation to take the longer, more thoughtful path -- not the hasty and hot-headed one.
"Fool!" shot Kane Starkiller, as he rose to challenge the other Jedi. "You no not of what you speak. What of Chandrila then? What of the thousands that died there? Their deaths were not due to any inaction. They were caught by surprise -- they died defending themselves -- defending the Jedi! They were murdered! Murdered by the Sith -- and the Twelve! The Twelve!"
Kane flung an arm out in despair and turned to face the rest of the Council. "Blasphemous fools like Jimil were what the gave rise to the Twelve and the Sith!" He spun again and bore into Master Jimil. "Will you be that Thirteenth? The Thirteenth Lost Jedi?"
Padawan stood still, solid as the rock underneath his feet. He extended one unwavering arm and motioned for quiet. "Silence, Master Starkiller! And control yourself, Master Jimil," he simply stated. "Now is not the time for debate."
The two returned to their positions as Master Padawan gathered his thoughts. "The Council must act as one. All of you must understand this." He halted as he took one deep breath of air.
"The War is coming to an end and even in the darkest of times a new day will always dawn. We must make our decision today. Our defense of Chandrila was a failure and soon the Sith will bring the last battle here to Alderaan. It is the responsibility of this Council to plan our next move."
Padawan motioned towards a young boy watching from a low window. "Elegi, papers." The boy disappeared and returned in a hurried moment. He flung himself over the window sill and stretched his tiny arm towards the Master Padawan. Padawan snatched the mess of papers and dismissed the young student.
"Now," he began, facing the Council once more, "we have been receiving messages from our own scouts -- the remnants of our fellow Jedi in Chandrila. As you can very well imagine, a few hundred Sith could not destroy thousands of Jedi alone. They had help. Our scouts, who witnessed the Battle of Chandrila, mentioned several hundred groups of mercenaries."
He lifted the stack of papers and ran a finger through them. "These," he motioned, "contain the names of each of those groups -- and those were only the groups that carried banners and could be identified." Padawan dropped the stack to the floor, littering the dais with paper. "Our Jedi brothers and sisters were overwhelmed!"
Hushed grumbles and mumbles spread from within the Council's circle to the spectators around the center hilltop to the over-lookers watching from the high windows. Soon a loud commotion broke out.
"Order!" barked Padawan. "Order, now!" The Temple continued to moan, oblivious to their leader's pleas. "Silence!" he screamed, a final time. The riot subsided.
"It is time now. Those who watch these proceedings, be hushed and show respect to the Order and its Council. All our fates are to be reckoned today. The courtyard is open."
There was quiet among the Council as they looked about at one another. Master Jimil decided to begin the conversation, as he rose. "Honorable Jedi of the Council, my opinions are already known. I believe, it is in the best interests of the Order, to strike the Sith. We know where they are -- we should take them out while we have the chance."
"And you all know my opinion," answered Kane. "There are alternatives to fighting. Vengeance is the easy way out."
Jimil grinned. "And what do you suggest we do Master Jedi?"
Kane turned his head away from the wrinkly alien. "I only suggest that this Council act with the Jedi Creed in mind. Our priorities must hold peace and patience above anger," he paused before turning to Jimil again, "and fear."
Master Jimil waved a hand at Kane. "Please spare us with this unneeded emotion. Anger and fear, patience and peace -- none of this has anything to do with what we are facing. Vengeance has nothing to do with this either. We are simply taking back what is ours and driving these invaders from our home."
Kane scoffed. "Call it whatever you want. You can blind yourself, this Council, this Order -- coat your philosophy with all kinds of sweets and ale -- but never, never will you coax me."
A third Master rose from the Council's circle. "I am sorry Master Starkiller but I must agree with the Master Jimil here. I do not believe we are violating any rule. This strike on Chandrila would be an act of defense."
"An act of defense?" cried Kane. "What of the Jedi still on Chandrila -- what of the ones captured in their camps -- what of the villages of hundreds of thousands of innocent civilians besieged by the Sith -- what of them?"
The other Master bit his lower lip, deep in thought, as Kane trailed off. "Well Master Starkiller, what of them?"
Kane sighed. "Don't you see? You send your armies of Jedi, you send your swarms of fighters, you send your hordes of bombers -- and in the end you bludgeon that holy ground -- our Chandrila!"
The Master shook his head. "I hardly see your point, Master Starkiller. With every war comes innocent casualties. There is no way around that -- it is an inevitability. It is the price we must pay to uphold peace and freedom in the Galaxy."
"And continue to sugarcoat your blasphemy! This is absurd!" shot Kane, tossing his head from side to side. "I can't believe what I'm hearing -- the inevitable death of hundreds of thousands of innocents -- to me that sounds like a reason not to lash out in violence. How can any of you go along with this?"
Master Padawan finally extended another arm of silence. Atop his stone pedestal, he signaled the three standing Jedi to rejoin the circle. Cooley, he tightened the cloak over his shoulders. "I have heard enough from both sides. What is it then that the Council wishes?"
Slowly, Master Padawan descended from the dais and walked to each Council member, perusing through the grassy circle. In turn, each member quietly sounded their thoughts as their leader passed by.
"It is settled then." Master Padawan smiled as he returned to his pedestal. "The Council has decided. Due to majority vote, we will defend Chandrila and take back what is ours from the Sith."
A hearty commotion broke out and a joyous pride filled the air. A salty breeze danced on the wind as Kane gently let his head fall into the warm sunlight, disappointed and disgusted.
As the Council stood and began to disperse, Padawan walked towards Kane and gently patted his head. "I am sorry, Kane, but the Council has spoken."
Kane looked up to face the older man. "Your opinion was no different than Jimil and the others, was it?"
"No, it wasn't. But you are newly appointed on the Council, Kane. You still have much to learn."
Kane steadily shook his head and remained where he was.
"Preposterous!" yelled a hoarse and familiar voice. Master Bendu Beren trudged up the hill and marched to the center of the Council, which was now half seated and half standing. "This is outrageous!" He faced the Council, sickened at what he had witnessed. "This Council will reevaluate it's course of action immediately!"
Jimil, who had been giggling cheerfully off in a corner, stiffened and returned to the center hill. "Master Beren, great sir, with all due respect," he halted rather abruptly, as Master Beren's two hardened eyes confronted him, "I -- uh, with all due respect, sir -- the Council has spoken. You are not it's leader anymore."
Master Beren's eyes flickered. "Oh, forgive me!" he wailed sarcastically. "I had no idea the founder of the Order could be treated with such dis-rus-pect!" He bit long and hard.
"No, I just mean, Master -- you are old and sick. You may not see things the way most people do these days."
Beren furrowed his brows and stared into Jimil. "What exactly are you implying, good sir?"
Jimil stammered. "Uh, no Master, no Master Beren -- I did not mean it that way!" He hurried to try and save himself.
"Master Padawan," Beren called. "The Council will reassemble immediately."
"But, sir, we," Padawan froze as the two gazes locked. The familiar glare bore into Padawan and he nodded. "Yes, of course, Master Beren."
Padawan began waving his arms, signaling the Council to reconvene. He remained upon the pedestal but Master Beren now paced around it, on the outside.
As the Council returned, Beren paused to lean deeply onto his gray wooden staff. He let out a soft groan as he settled into place. "Two years!" he began. "Two years have passed since I left the Council and already you have been corrupted." He struck the ground with his staff.
One by one, Master Beren examined each Jedi in the circle. His round brown eyes bore deep into their souls, searching them for truth and piety. He did not speak with words but let each stare convey his sadness and pain to each member of the Council. The waving willows lost their sputter and the babbling brook napped as a loving golden aura emerged within the garden.
A gust of wind swept past Master Beren, tossing the scattered papers into the air. As they fluttered, Beren called one to his outstretched paw. He squinted at it, trying to make out the markings.
"And this? Master Padawan, what are these figures?"
Padawan moved forward to look over his Master's shoulder. "Those are the estimated numbers of warriors belonging to each group. Just estimates, of course."
Master Beren shook his head. "Estimates or not -- that is irrelevant now. Look at this!" he waved the paper in the air. "The large majority, over half of these warriors, come from one single bounty hunting guild."
He returned the paper to Padawan and stepped onto the dais again. It had been two years since he last stood upon that stone platform. "Always, my friends, there are other means of solving problems without violence. It is only a matter of finding a solution -- a true and noble solution. Sometimes it is harder to find one, sometimes it is easier -- but there is always another way."
Beren descended from the podium.
Padawan remained, scanning the paper. "The Angels of Iego?" he whispered to himself. "Master, Master Beren!" he hurried to catch the attention of his former teacher.
"Yes, Master Padawan?"
"Let me be the first to apologize for this Council -- and it's blunt decision. Perhaps it was the easy way out. We failed to notice the obvious, what was right in front of us. We were mistaken -- and we apologize, good sir."
Beren stood there, still, staring blankly at him.
Padawan went on. "This Council will dispatch a pair of ambassadors to the planet Iego immediately. We will negotiate peace. And let me be the first to volunteer."
Master Beren hung heavily on his staff. "It could be a dangerous mission, Master Padawan. And you, being the leader of this Order, could be put into many deadly situations. The Angels of Iego are not a very genial bunch."
Padawan shook his head. "I am not afraid, Master. As Grand Jedi, it is my responsibility to lead by example. I will not sit behind these walls and simply move my lips anymore. I am a man of action -- of responsibility."
"Then so be it." Master Beren smiled.
"But I no longer am aided by a Learner. I will need assistance."
Master Beren nodded. "This is no mission for an apprentice. I would be much pleased if you took a Jedi Master with you." Beren turned to face Kane Starkiller, seated on the grass. "Master Starkiller, would you be so kind as to volunteer?"
Kane shot up. "Of course, sir! It would be an honor."
Beren smiled once more as he looked over Garqhuin Padawan and Kane Starkiller -- two men who held the fate of Alderaan in their hands.
The two Jedi, Padawan and Starkiller, exchanged glances for a fleeting moment. That passing second felt long and cold for the two. There was much buried history behind each gaze that would emerge, one day, eventually.
"Master Starkiller," Beren tried to grasp his attention, "I believe there is something else you wish to add to today's agenda."
Kane fluttered. "Huh?"
"The child," Master Beren simply stated.
"Yes, of course," Kane remembered. He spun and immediately began searching the garden for Ze'Losh.
Slowly, Ze'Losh appeared from the opposite side of the hill, cradling the bundle in her loving embrace.
"Master?" Padawan looked up at Beren. "Is this of so great importance?"
"Yes," the ancient Jedi replied.
The Jedi, Jimil, who had been seated, sitting rather quietly, shot to his feet. "Master Beren, this is no time for a prospect hearing and trial."
Beren chose not to look at Jimil. "There will be no need of that now. The child will be taken in by the Order without any test."
Jimil spun to watch Ze'Losh step upon the dais. She handed Master Padawan the bundle and descended.
Jimil shook his head in disbelief. "Without any test? How can this be?"
Master Beren hobbled back atop the dais and faced Garqhuin Padawan, patting his back with both hands. "Feel the Force around him, Garqhuin," the Jedi whispered over Padawan's right shoulder. "It is strong -- overwhelmingly strong." Padawan simply nodded, his mouth hung half open.
Below, Jimil continued his jabber. "But he's only a child! The rules clearly state the prospect must be at least ten years of age before it can be taken in by the Order."
Padawan glanced over at his old Master. "He's right, you know. They do point that out."
Master Beren shook his head. "It is all interpretation, Padawan. This situation is much different -- much more unique. I feel it. I know you do as well."
Padawan nodded. "I do, Master."
Jimil, who stood now very closely to the pedestal, had listened in. "This is ridiculous! He is not of age!"
Kane met the three in the center. "Calm yourself, Master Jimil. Look at the boy -- his species is strange. He may be of age, after all."
"He isn't of age," Master Beren grinned. Kane looked up at the Master in surprise. "The boy is not of age -- I can sense that -- a newborn, I believe."
Jimil hopped in anticipation. "You see! You see! Even Master Bendu Beren admits it!"
"Jimil!" Master Beren frowned. "You have an extremely rigid view. The rule also states we can break it, under special circumstances."
"And there is no special circumstance here, Master Beren," scoffed Jimil.
Beren smiled. "Tell me you cannot feel the good around this boy, Jimil."
"I, he -- ," Jimil struggled for words, frustrated. "I do not agree with this."
Padawan tapped Master Beren's shoulder. "Master, there could be great risk in this. We could always have a family outside the City watch after the boy until he came of age."
Master Beren wouldn't have it. "No, Master Padawan. The only risks present are the two extremes -- the unyielding, like Jimil here, and the ones with knowledge of the Force but whom disregard it." Beren raised his voice. "You will train him, Master Padawan?"
Master Jimil waved his arms in the air. "I will opt for new leadership if Master Padawan takes this child as his apprentice!" A murmur of agreement swept the circle.
"Master Beren," whispered Padawan, "this would create too much controversy -- division -- in the Order. I do not understand why this cannot wait."
Beren looked into his former student's pale green eyes. "I see, Master Padawan, I see." He faced the rest of the Council. "It is clear to me now that we are faced with a twilight -- a sunrise or a sunset -- even I cannot tell. But what is clear, is this: I will take care of the boy for now and will embark upon a last journey -- a journey to unknown land. I will travel to see the Whills and then obtain a last message. A revelation that I hope will one day save you all."
Jimil smirked as he stepped behind Master Padawan, whispering over his left shoulder. "Let the fool go on his errand. He is not the great Master Bendu Beren he once was. Sickness and age has rotted his mind."
Beren continued. "I was told to return one day, to the Whills, for a new hope. I know now that, that day has finally come."
With those final words, Master Bendu Beren took the child from Padawan's arms and left the hill, Ze'Losh following behind him.
The sun shot streams of light across the horizon as the ground tumbled uncontrollably. Ze'Losh shaded her eyes. The sun's reflection off the sleek Jedi starship only seemed to magnify the light.
As the landing gear creaked into place the dust began to settle. Soon, the landing ramp lowered and out stepped two Jedi, shoulder to shoulder. Ze'Losh hurried to greet them.
"Master Kane, Master Deak." She slightly bowed.
They returned the greeting. The taller and older one spoke first. "It's nice to see you again, m'lady."
"And both of you as well."
The younger Jedi grinned. "Oh come on, Ze'Losh. Enough with the formalities already. I've moped around enough already with this stiff." He gestured towards his older brother beside him. "I'm lucky I wasn't apprenticed to Kane all my life."
Kane glanced over at his younger brother. "You're lucky you made it past the trials."
"Ha-Ha-Hah," fumbled Deak, "hilarious."
Ze'Losh stepped in. "Now come on you two. The Council is assembling soon in the courtyard. You don't want to keep them waiting Master Kane."
"No, I don't."
"Not again," slipped in Deak.
Ze'Losh smiled at the two. "So, shall we be going?"
Deak stepped in and curled his arm around Ze'Losh's and immediately began marching towards the Temple
Kane paused. "Wait a moment." Suddenly he popped back into the spacecraft and returned with the pilot. As they descended Ze'Losh noticed a fidgeting bundle in Kane's arms.
She melted and sprung out of Deak's embrace. Hurrying back, she unwrapped the Jedi fabrics caressing the child. "My goodness," she screamed, overcome with emotion. "She's beautiful!" She began methodically rearranging the bundle, comforting the child. "And so cute." She pinched at the newborn's cheeks. "I've never seen this species before, what is she?"
Kane lowered his hood, allowing the warmth to soak into his dark brown hair. "He is of some rare species, obviously. The computer onboard couldn't come up with anything. We'll be looking into it later."
"He?" grinned Ze'Losh. "Doesn't look much like a boy to me. Are you certain?"
"Oh, we're certain alright." Kane smiled. "Let's get going."
The pilot returned tending to the ship as the three began their journey towards the Temple. Ze'Losh lagged behind, as she became engrossed in caring for the child while the two Starkiller brothers weaved through the tall buildings and navigated the cobblestone maze.
Kane kept his gaze forward all the while ignoring his younger brother's glare.
______________________________
The courtyard was only a small portion of the vast Temple grounds. It was a modest size and located in an open area, in the middle of the Jedi Temple. Encircled by the soaring walls of the Temple, the garden was the pit of the City, and inside throve a variety of life.
The moist ground was caressed by a winding path of smooth red bricks. They always crackled with a homely greeting as they were walked upon. The walls of the surrounding Temple were immersed in lush flora and ivy, and the lustrous earth bubbled with a carpet of soft green moss. And far from high above, the mammoth willows filtered the scorch of the sun, as their long curving branches trickled down and encompassed the entire enclosure.
Wide stone pillars and old carvings rumbled from the ground and settled throughout. The land itself fluttered up and down and side to side as humble silky hills stroked the grounds. And all around a clear and gentle stream murmured through the mounds.
Master Garqhuin Padawan stood in the middle of the courtyard, atop the center hill, and all around him, in the only clearing, sat on the floor, the Jedi Council.
"Welcome, my friends," the tired Jedi began. "I am sorry we could not convene during more happier times. But, as is with all things, in the end, it is all the Will of the Force."
An agreeing grumble and a simmer of nods wove through the circle.
The Master continued. "Most of you know the reasons why this counsel was called for. But for those of you members of the Council who may not have all the details, rest assured, I will go over the sequence of events before we begin."
"Two months ago our planet, Chandrila, fell to the Twelve and the Sith. Ever since that accursed day, we have been on full alert -- throughout Alderaan. All seemed quiet until seven nights ago, the night we lost our first brother."
In the shadow of a willow sat Master Bendu Beren, far in a corner. He held in his arms the infant child, gently rocking it to sleep. His apprentice, Ze'Losh sat near him -- one eye on the baby, one on the Council -- half the time trying to whisper the story Kane and Deak had told her during their journey home.
Padawan paced on the small stone dais that emerged from the earth, the air dancing on his whiskers. He paused a moment to glance up at the grand Jedi walls through the wild willow leaves, a thousand eyes watching him down through the countless Temple windows.
"Four nights ago," he paused to breathe a heavy sigh, "we lost a Jedi sister."
A grave reaction swept the Council.
"And then, just this last night, I lost my apprentice." He slightly tugged at the loose skin under his chin, deep in thought.
One of the Council members stood up glaring at Master Padawan, his heavy eyebrows bristled. "And two Jedi would have been alive today if this Council had taken proper action after the first night! The Sith are now on Chandrila! We must kill them all!"
Master Jimil's views did not differ greatly than Padawan's own. Garqhuin had long been advocating a more aggressive stance and had secretly argued for that belief with Master Beren who simply wouldn't have it. Padawan realized, though, that as leader of the Order he had an obligation to take the longer, more thoughtful path -- not the hasty and hot-headed one.
"Fool!" shot Kane Starkiller, as he rose to challenge the other Jedi. "You no not of what you speak. What of Chandrila then? What of the thousands that died there? Their deaths were not due to any inaction. They were caught by surprise -- they died defending themselves -- defending the Jedi! They were murdered! Murdered by the Sith -- and the Twelve! The Twelve!"
Kane flung an arm out in despair and turned to face the rest of the Council. "Blasphemous fools like Jimil were what the gave rise to the Twelve and the Sith!" He spun again and bore into Master Jimil. "Will you be that Thirteenth? The Thirteenth Lost Jedi?"
Padawan stood still, solid as the rock underneath his feet. He extended one unwavering arm and motioned for quiet. "Silence, Master Starkiller! And control yourself, Master Jimil," he simply stated. "Now is not the time for debate."
The two returned to their positions as Master Padawan gathered his thoughts. "The Council must act as one. All of you must understand this." He halted as he took one deep breath of air.
"The War is coming to an end and even in the darkest of times a new day will always dawn. We must make our decision today. Our defense of Chandrila was a failure and soon the Sith will bring the last battle here to Alderaan. It is the responsibility of this Council to plan our next move."
Padawan motioned towards a young boy watching from a low window. "Elegi, papers." The boy disappeared and returned in a hurried moment. He flung himself over the window sill and stretched his tiny arm towards the Master Padawan. Padawan snatched the mess of papers and dismissed the young student.
"Now," he began, facing the Council once more, "we have been receiving messages from our own scouts -- the remnants of our fellow Jedi in Chandrila. As you can very well imagine, a few hundred Sith could not destroy thousands of Jedi alone. They had help. Our scouts, who witnessed the Battle of Chandrila, mentioned several hundred groups of mercenaries."
He lifted the stack of papers and ran a finger through them. "These," he motioned, "contain the names of each of those groups -- and those were only the groups that carried banners and could be identified." Padawan dropped the stack to the floor, littering the dais with paper. "Our Jedi brothers and sisters were overwhelmed!"
Hushed grumbles and mumbles spread from within the Council's circle to the spectators around the center hilltop to the over-lookers watching from the high windows. Soon a loud commotion broke out.
"Order!" barked Padawan. "Order, now!" The Temple continued to moan, oblivious to their leader's pleas. "Silence!" he screamed, a final time. The riot subsided.
"It is time now. Those who watch these proceedings, be hushed and show respect to the Order and its Council. All our fates are to be reckoned today. The courtyard is open."
There was quiet among the Council as they looked about at one another. Master Jimil decided to begin the conversation, as he rose. "Honorable Jedi of the Council, my opinions are already known. I believe, it is in the best interests of the Order, to strike the Sith. We know where they are -- we should take them out while we have the chance."
"And you all know my opinion," answered Kane. "There are alternatives to fighting. Vengeance is the easy way out."
Jimil grinned. "And what do you suggest we do Master Jedi?"
Kane turned his head away from the wrinkly alien. "I only suggest that this Council act with the Jedi Creed in mind. Our priorities must hold peace and patience above anger," he paused before turning to Jimil again, "and fear."
Master Jimil waved a hand at Kane. "Please spare us with this unneeded emotion. Anger and fear, patience and peace -- none of this has anything to do with what we are facing. Vengeance has nothing to do with this either. We are simply taking back what is ours and driving these invaders from our home."
Kane scoffed. "Call it whatever you want. You can blind yourself, this Council, this Order -- coat your philosophy with all kinds of sweets and ale -- but never, never will you coax me."
A third Master rose from the Council's circle. "I am sorry Master Starkiller but I must agree with the Master Jimil here. I do not believe we are violating any rule. This strike on Chandrila would be an act of defense."
"An act of defense?" cried Kane. "What of the Jedi still on Chandrila -- what of the ones captured in their camps -- what of the villages of hundreds of thousands of innocent civilians besieged by the Sith -- what of them?"
The other Master bit his lower lip, deep in thought, as Kane trailed off. "Well Master Starkiller, what of them?"
Kane sighed. "Don't you see? You send your armies of Jedi, you send your swarms of fighters, you send your hordes of bombers -- and in the end you bludgeon that holy ground -- our Chandrila!"
The Master shook his head. "I hardly see your point, Master Starkiller. With every war comes innocent casualties. There is no way around that -- it is an inevitability. It is the price we must pay to uphold peace and freedom in the Galaxy."
"And continue to sugarcoat your blasphemy! This is absurd!" shot Kane, tossing his head from side to side. "I can't believe what I'm hearing -- the inevitable death of hundreds of thousands of innocents -- to me that sounds like a reason not to lash out in violence. How can any of you go along with this?"
Master Padawan finally extended another arm of silence. Atop his stone pedestal, he signaled the three standing Jedi to rejoin the circle. Cooley, he tightened the cloak over his shoulders. "I have heard enough from both sides. What is it then that the Council wishes?"
Slowly, Master Padawan descended from the dais and walked to each Council member, perusing through the grassy circle. In turn, each member quietly sounded their thoughts as their leader passed by.
"It is settled then." Master Padawan smiled as he returned to his pedestal. "The Council has decided. Due to majority vote, we will defend Chandrila and take back what is ours from the Sith."
A hearty commotion broke out and a joyous pride filled the air. A salty breeze danced on the wind as Kane gently let his head fall into the warm sunlight, disappointed and disgusted.
As the Council stood and began to disperse, Padawan walked towards Kane and gently patted his head. "I am sorry, Kane, but the Council has spoken."
Kane looked up to face the older man. "Your opinion was no different than Jimil and the others, was it?"
"No, it wasn't. But you are newly appointed on the Council, Kane. You still have much to learn."
Kane steadily shook his head and remained where he was.
"Preposterous!" yelled a hoarse and familiar voice. Master Bendu Beren trudged up the hill and marched to the center of the Council, which was now half seated and half standing. "This is outrageous!" He faced the Council, sickened at what he had witnessed. "This Council will reevaluate it's course of action immediately!"
Jimil, who had been giggling cheerfully off in a corner, stiffened and returned to the center hill. "Master Beren, great sir, with all due respect," he halted rather abruptly, as Master Beren's two hardened eyes confronted him, "I -- uh, with all due respect, sir -- the Council has spoken. You are not it's leader anymore."
Master Beren's eyes flickered. "Oh, forgive me!" he wailed sarcastically. "I had no idea the founder of the Order could be treated with such dis-rus-pect!" He bit long and hard.
"No, I just mean, Master -- you are old and sick. You may not see things the way most people do these days."
Beren furrowed his brows and stared into Jimil. "What exactly are you implying, good sir?"
Jimil stammered. "Uh, no Master, no Master Beren -- I did not mean it that way!" He hurried to try and save himself.
"Master Padawan," Beren called. "The Council will reassemble immediately."
"But, sir, we," Padawan froze as the two gazes locked. The familiar glare bore into Padawan and he nodded. "Yes, of course, Master Beren."
Padawan began waving his arms, signaling the Council to reconvene. He remained upon the pedestal but Master Beren now paced around it, on the outside.
As the Council returned, Beren paused to lean deeply onto his gray wooden staff. He let out a soft groan as he settled into place. "Two years!" he began. "Two years have passed since I left the Council and already you have been corrupted." He struck the ground with his staff.
One by one, Master Beren examined each Jedi in the circle. His round brown eyes bore deep into their souls, searching them for truth and piety. He did not speak with words but let each stare convey his sadness and pain to each member of the Council. The waving willows lost their sputter and the babbling brook napped as a loving golden aura emerged within the garden.
A gust of wind swept past Master Beren, tossing the scattered papers into the air. As they fluttered, Beren called one to his outstretched paw. He squinted at it, trying to make out the markings.
"And this? Master Padawan, what are these figures?"
Padawan moved forward to look over his Master's shoulder. "Those are the estimated numbers of warriors belonging to each group. Just estimates, of course."
Master Beren shook his head. "Estimates or not -- that is irrelevant now. Look at this!" he waved the paper in the air. "The large majority, over half of these warriors, come from one single bounty hunting guild."
He returned the paper to Padawan and stepped onto the dais again. It had been two years since he last stood upon that stone platform. "Always, my friends, there are other means of solving problems without violence. It is only a matter of finding a solution -- a true and noble solution. Sometimes it is harder to find one, sometimes it is easier -- but there is always another way."
Beren descended from the podium.
Padawan remained, scanning the paper. "The Angels of Iego?" he whispered to himself. "Master, Master Beren!" he hurried to catch the attention of his former teacher.
"Yes, Master Padawan?"
"Let me be the first to apologize for this Council -- and it's blunt decision. Perhaps it was the easy way out. We failed to notice the obvious, what was right in front of us. We were mistaken -- and we apologize, good sir."
Beren stood there, still, staring blankly at him.
Padawan went on. "This Council will dispatch a pair of ambassadors to the planet Iego immediately. We will negotiate peace. And let me be the first to volunteer."
Master Beren hung heavily on his staff. "It could be a dangerous mission, Master Padawan. And you, being the leader of this Order, could be put into many deadly situations. The Angels of Iego are not a very genial bunch."
Padawan shook his head. "I am not afraid, Master. As Grand Jedi, it is my responsibility to lead by example. I will not sit behind these walls and simply move my lips anymore. I am a man of action -- of responsibility."
"Then so be it." Master Beren smiled.
"But I no longer am aided by a Learner. I will need assistance."
Master Beren nodded. "This is no mission for an apprentice. I would be much pleased if you took a Jedi Master with you." Beren turned to face Kane Starkiller, seated on the grass. "Master Starkiller, would you be so kind as to volunteer?"
Kane shot up. "Of course, sir! It would be an honor."
Beren smiled once more as he looked over Garqhuin Padawan and Kane Starkiller -- two men who held the fate of Alderaan in their hands.
The two Jedi, Padawan and Starkiller, exchanged glances for a fleeting moment. That passing second felt long and cold for the two. There was much buried history behind each gaze that would emerge, one day, eventually.
"Master Starkiller," Beren tried to grasp his attention, "I believe there is something else you wish to add to today's agenda."
Kane fluttered. "Huh?"
"The child," Master Beren simply stated.
"Yes, of course," Kane remembered. He spun and immediately began searching the garden for Ze'Losh.
Slowly, Ze'Losh appeared from the opposite side of the hill, cradling the bundle in her loving embrace.
"Master?" Padawan looked up at Beren. "Is this of so great importance?"
"Yes," the ancient Jedi replied.
The Jedi, Jimil, who had been seated, sitting rather quietly, shot to his feet. "Master Beren, this is no time for a prospect hearing and trial."
Beren chose not to look at Jimil. "There will be no need of that now. The child will be taken in by the Order without any test."
Jimil spun to watch Ze'Losh step upon the dais. She handed Master Padawan the bundle and descended.
Jimil shook his head in disbelief. "Without any test? How can this be?"
Master Beren hobbled back atop the dais and faced Garqhuin Padawan, patting his back with both hands. "Feel the Force around him, Garqhuin," the Jedi whispered over Padawan's right shoulder. "It is strong -- overwhelmingly strong." Padawan simply nodded, his mouth hung half open.
Below, Jimil continued his jabber. "But he's only a child! The rules clearly state the prospect must be at least ten years of age before it can be taken in by the Order."
Padawan glanced over at his old Master. "He's right, you know. They do point that out."
Master Beren shook his head. "It is all interpretation, Padawan. This situation is much different -- much more unique. I feel it. I know you do as well."
Padawan nodded. "I do, Master."
Jimil, who stood now very closely to the pedestal, had listened in. "This is ridiculous! He is not of age!"
Kane met the three in the center. "Calm yourself, Master Jimil. Look at the boy -- his species is strange. He may be of age, after all."
"He isn't of age," Master Beren grinned. Kane looked up at the Master in surprise. "The boy is not of age -- I can sense that -- a newborn, I believe."
Jimil hopped in anticipation. "You see! You see! Even Master Bendu Beren admits it!"
"Jimil!" Master Beren frowned. "You have an extremely rigid view. The rule also states we can break it, under special circumstances."
"And there is no special circumstance here, Master Beren," scoffed Jimil.
Beren smiled. "Tell me you cannot feel the good around this boy, Jimil."
"I, he -- ," Jimil struggled for words, frustrated. "I do not agree with this."
Padawan tapped Master Beren's shoulder. "Master, there could be great risk in this. We could always have a family outside the City watch after the boy until he came of age."
Master Beren wouldn't have it. "No, Master Padawan. The only risks present are the two extremes -- the unyielding, like Jimil here, and the ones with knowledge of the Force but whom disregard it." Beren raised his voice. "You will train him, Master Padawan?"
Master Jimil waved his arms in the air. "I will opt for new leadership if Master Padawan takes this child as his apprentice!" A murmur of agreement swept the circle.
"Master Beren," whispered Padawan, "this would create too much controversy -- division -- in the Order. I do not understand why this cannot wait."
Beren looked into his former student's pale green eyes. "I see, Master Padawan, I see." He faced the rest of the Council. "It is clear to me now that we are faced with a twilight -- a sunrise or a sunset -- even I cannot tell. But what is clear, is this: I will take care of the boy for now and will embark upon a last journey -- a journey to unknown land. I will travel to see the Whills and then obtain a last message. A revelation that I hope will one day save you all."
Jimil smirked as he stepped behind Master Padawan, whispering over his left shoulder. "Let the fool go on his errand. He is not the great Master Bendu Beren he once was. Sickness and age has rotted his mind."
Beren continued. "I was told to return one day, to the Whills, for a new hope. I know now that, that day has finally come."
With those final words, Master Bendu Beren took the child from Padawan's arms and left the hill, Ze'Losh following behind him.
