"We wish to further understand your reasons." Master Vandaar leaned forward. He met Korin's gaze with an equal amount of strength. The two men held the look. Neither of them wanted to give ground in this, as it was quickly becoming, battle of wits.
Korin was the first to give. "I simply think this is a bad decision."
"And why is it a bad decision? That is what you haven't been telling us Korin." Vandaar sighed as he leaned back.
"We're on your side, Korin. Yet you refuse to expand on your reasons or your reasoning, for that matter."
Korin sighed this time. Vandaar was right, as usual. The members of the Jedi Council were looking for reasons and explanations. Explanations that Korin wasn't able to give at the moment. Reasons he didn't fully understand as of yet. "Alright. I will try to explain."
"Please do." It was Renbe'cul that spoke this time. Renbe'cul was the leader of the Council and a very impressive Jedi. He was a 67 year-old Twi'Lek Jedi that had been in the Order from birth. His dark green skin matched his even darker black eyes. His long face showed very little lines that were prevalent on most men his age. An even more amazing fact about this Jedi Master was he hadn't drawn his saber in 15 years. The rumor was that he had retired it after killing his Padawan; Dark Jedi were always such tragic stories.
"I just don't feel that splitting the twins up is what is needed at this moment. They are to emotionally fragile." Korin stopped. He was getting ahead of his thoughts. "I have been observing the twins as we have gone through daily training and it is my opinion that they are very dependent on each other. They have grown close and have a connection through the force that is the same as what Joran Bender and I share." Korin looked around the room, taking in the faces of the Jedi Masters present.
There was Master Vrool, The Gand. Then there was Master Jiigan and Caliil, the Mated Cathar Masters. After them sat Rul'cordan, another Twi'Lek Jedi Master. Then was Master Yokit, a young Whill. Young was used lightly in Yokit's case, the Jedi Whill was 535 years old and undoubtedly the most skilled with the use of the force. After the Whill was another oddity in the Grand Council, Master Kyle Adaffa.
Kyle had been a brash young Jedi pilot and an arrogant swordsman. He was assisting the Republic in securing refugees from a war-torn world when the Black Star pirates descended upon the party. After, what was rumored, a 22-hour fight with the pirates, Kyle Adaffa was beaten and left for dead. Laurune, responding to the distress call found Adaffa and took him to the Geonosians. Using their technology and their prowess in cybernetics, they repaired what they could of his body. Everything else was turned into a machine. Korin had never seen the rest of his body, save for Adaffa's head. He kept it hidden under layers of robes that no one ever got past.
Drawing himself up as straight as he could, Korin continued. "Their connection in the force is deep and it manifests itself in ways I can't put into good enough words to make you understand. I don't think that any of my training can help them let go of the emotions that will well up to the surface if they are split."
There was silence among the council members as they all considered what Korin had just said. It was a hard pill to swallow when the council had to consider the threat of the Dark Side. No one wanted to admit that even the greatest of teachers fail.
"This is why," Master Renbe'cul spoke, "we are going to turn Ithica over to the hands of an experienced teacher."
"Who?" Korin stared into the dark eyes of the Twi'Lek. "Who has enough experience and isn't tied down with another Padawan?" Korin already knew the answer. He didn't want to admit it. He didn't even want to think about the stories that he knew all to well.
"Master Laurune." Renbe spoke barely above a whisper.
Korin said nothing. His eyes fell from the Jedi Master and focused on the tile of the floor. He was kicking himself. If only he had tried a little harder. If only he had worked to please the council instead of his own ideas of how to train the twins.
"It isn't because of you, Korin." Vandaar tried to make eye contact with Korin's retreating eyes.
"The hell it isn't!" Korin swung his arm in anger. Tiny wisps of disturbed air batted against the two Cathar Jedi. "This is because I have failed in some way or another and you just won't admit it."
"Careful." Adaffa focused his cold eyes on Korin. Tiny servos working underneath his skin as the replacement vocabulator croaked out words for him. The metallic tones sounded like he was speaking through a metal tube. This probably wasn't far from the truth. "Do not think that the Council wishes you ill, young one."
Korin winced. He hated to be called that. All of the pent up emotions he was carrying came welling to the surface. He stopped himself, as one thought poured through his mind. There is no passion.
"I apologize." Korin said more coldly than what he intended. "I need to submit myself to the will of the Council. I will accept this wisdom."
"Then the Council can ask no more of you." Adaffa finished. There was silence that followed as the members slowly filed out. Adaffa stopped briefly to lay a scarred hand on Korin's shoulder. He said nothing, simply a knowing touch. Korin gathered more from that contact than he could from a month of discussion. The contact soothed Korin's nerves.
After all but Vandaar and Renbe'cul had exited, Korin took his leave. The two Elder Jedi were speaking softly. The Twi'Lek's lekku were twitching wildly. Vandaar was taking in the small actions of the tentacles and responding to them. Korin was amazed by this; few outside of the Twi'Lek race could ever hope understanding the twitching language.
Korin exited the Council Chamber and started wandering around the Dantooine temple. The pleasant noises and smells filled his nostrils and helped him deal with the confusion he felt inside his mind. Dantooine was never a quiet place and if one listened, one would hear the heartbeat of the planet coming from every animal. The heartbeat of a world virtually untouched by the Republic.
Korin ran his hands across the rough cut stone on the walls and basked in the dim light. A few Padawans raced around the corner ahead of him, their master close on their heels. They scrambled past Korin and brought a smile to his face. The temple was always full of activity.
Korin wasn't really sure where his feet were taking him. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to go where they led. He simply took each step one at a time. Soon he found himself at the top of the stairwell leading to the observation room at the peak of the temple. Korin eased himself down on the steps and stared down the stairwell where he had just come from. This place was where he used to go as a kid. Late at night, while everyone slept, Korin was usually deep in thought. He never allowed himself to go very long without falling into a deep trance of thought.
Behind him, there was a short hiss of motion as the door to the observation room opened. There were no footsteps but Korin could feel the Jedi Knight approach him. Korin could always feel those that were brimming with the force so wildly that it threatened to burst out violently. They were the ones that were the most interesting to Korin. Trin was one of those people.
"Hello, my brother." Trin hissed out. The Twi'Lek spoke in very hushed tones as he glided down next to Korin. He was using the force to aid his movements, almost as if mocking Korin with his mastery of the technique. "Are you busy?"
"No, nothing that can't be postponed." Korin turned and took in the sight of the Knight before him.
Trin always had a flare for the theatrical. He wore the darkest clothes he could get his hands on to contrast the fact that his skin was almost white. He wore his naturally long Twi'Lek fingernails long and sharp. He always hid his eyes deep in the hood of his cloak. The twin red orbs stared out and bore into all that fell in his gaze.
"What is on your mind?" Korin asked.
"Am I that transparent?" Trin turned slowly to meet Korin's gaze. "I would like to believe that I can hide better than that."
"You're always easy to read when you're focused on something. I've noticed that about you." Korin chuckled. "When you fight you're emotions are so close to the surface that I can't help but study you."
Trin smiled; a trite expression if ever there was one. "Right you are, friend."
"So what's up?"
"I'm leaving."
Korin couldn't speak. If you had asked him a moment earlier, Trin's response would have been the last one he expected. It his Korin like a ton of ferro and left him stunned.
"W-what?" Korin stammered.
"I'm leaving. The Jedi Order holds nothing more for me." Trin looked off, as if he was seeking something.
"Where will you go?"
"Don't know. I don't necessarily care." Trin focused back to Korin. "I wanted you to know." He gathered up his cloak. "If you need a place, you have one with me. It is a tough burden you carry with that power." Trin stood and began walking down the steps.
"I don't know what you are talking about." Korin stared after the Knight that was walking out on the Order- the family that he had known for years.
Without turning back to the Jedi Knight, Trin spoke in the dim light. "Korin, you will soon realize that all of the pretexts we cling to mean nothing when considered against the grand scope of the Force. We have no right to deny that which makes us strong. You deny it simply because you are scared of it. I say embrace your power, my friend. It makes you a greater Jedi than those even on the Council." Trin began walking again. "When you're ready to believe that, you know where to find me."
"No I don't." Korin shouted down the hall.
"Yes you do, you're power makes that possible." Trin disappeared into the night.
Korin stared down at the marble steps. He didn't know how Trin found out about his power. He didn't even know if that same power would help him in the days to come.
No one saw the tears fall from Korin's eyes as he sat in the dark hallway.
Thousands of light years away, Captain Kiska mounted the last few steps that lead to the bridge. He yawned and tried to make his eyes focus. The new schedule he was implementing was proving to be a harder adjustment than he initially planned.
The entire Rim Operation was taxing to the Republic forces that were carrying it out. Reports of ships that had to return to outposts for R&R after only a month of duty made he and his crew long for a break. They had been out here for more than 7 months.
The door to the bridge slid open and Kiska entered. The lights of the bridge were always dim and grim shadows played all over the walls of the control deck. Kiska didn't like the new layout of the D-15 bridge. It felt like everything was too forward and it didn't offer any place for the Captain to effectively command. The Hammerhead style was getting old.
"Any problems, Lieutenant?" Kiska stood in the middle of the deck. Higher than his Lieutenant pilot. Kiska couldn't help but like where he stood. Power always appealed to men like Kiska.
"No sir." The young Lieutenant rolled his eyes. Over the past months he had grown to hate these little updates. Everyone on the crew found Kiska to be a little pompous but he was still a good commander. He could see problems and intercept them before they became crisis.
"Look alive everyone!" Kiska addressed everyone on the bridge. "We're out here to do a job and we can't let personal fatigue get in the way of that." He looked to everyone on the bridge. "Right?"
Many of the crewmembers responded. A few of the more bedraggled ones simply nodded. Some members of this crew had pulled 32-hour days over the past few months. Everything was hard in deep space.
"Good." Kiska took a seat at one of the free command consoles. "Let's get to work."
Kiska's ship, the Hindsight, was out here to help police the rim and catch pirates. More specifically, they were at this point in space to investigate a mysterious Ion trail. They had originally caught the trail when they were working their way through the Tatoo system. Now, as they neared the Callist system, they were closing in. Kiska was a little concerned though.
When they had picked up the trail, it was more than a day old but still had the flare of a ship as big as the Hindsight. That meant they were dealing with a convoy of ships. If Kiska had more time, he would call in some reinforcements. Time, so it seemed, was a commodity that very few on the Rim had.
"The Ion trail is dissipating fast, Cap." The female science officer said. Her long black hair was matted against her forehead and her voice cracked a little while she spoke.
"Make your best guess, Liil." Kiska began to look at the information that scrolled across his screen. The readout showed mostly small information; current temperature, what was being served in the galley, who was sick. It was all pretty general information. Kiska was snapped out of his reverie by a sharp tone.
Everyone on the bridge was stunned and for a moment, no one knew where the tone had come from. Soon it was apparent as the tactical officer's fingers played across the console. The Bothan worked fast as his head twitched. No one waited for him to report as they all gasped. What was filling the view-panel told them everything.
At first, Kiska thought it was a trick. Some odd joke played by one of the members of his crew. That soon dissolved as every instrument on the bridge started to go crazy. Klaxons blared, consoles beeped, and a droid or two tooled in the corner. The bridge was filled with the sounds of warning.
"Transmit friendly." Kiska said. No one on the bridge moved.
Outside of the Hindsight the ship loomed there. It was huge, far bigger than the D-15 Cruiser. It had to measure about a Kilometer long. It was bright silver with small black lines that concealed the deadly turbo-lasers hidden within. It was triangular in design, like a big black fang against the black curtain of the stars. Though it looked angular it was very smooth and it's lines seemed blended in with the overall feel the ship was supposed to convey. It looked like a beautiful killing machine. Like a gilded sword, pretty, but deadly.
"Transmit friendly!" Kiska yelled now. The bridge crew snapped into action. The comm relays began to transmit and were immediately shut down. They were being jammed.
"Captain I'm reading massive energy build up in the forward section!" The tactical Bothan screamed out.
"Take evasive actio-" Kiska never finished his sentence as the first blast tore into the bridge. The red bolt of energy boiled through the transparasteel and instantly vaporized the occupants of the bridge. Around the smoking wound, durasteel peeled back; like skin pealing away from a burn.
The next few salvos slammed into the ship and melted away bulkheads and burned through windows and people alike. One lucky blast tore through the engine and ignited the plasma stores. In another instant the Hindsight flew apart in a fantastic explosion. The blast caressing the unknown ship like a dying breath caresses its killer.
Krii'nek sat bolt upright in his bed. His mind ripped from the blissful slumber by a sudden sense within the force. His body writhed off of the uncomfortable Sullustian bed. The Jedi Watchman sprinted to the window of the room and looked into the sky. The small red moon, the stars, all was well in the Sullustian sky.
Krii'nek sighed. He didn't know why he was awoken. He didn't know why he had run to the window. He just knew his Bothan muscles were twitching rapidly. His sense within the Force was telling him that something was terribly wrong.
Reaching out with the force, he drew his saber from across the room into his hand. The black, 30-centimeter long shaft slipped into his nimble hands, settling comfortably into his grip. Something was going to happen to the planet he was responsible for. Something that no saber would be able to stop. Krii'nek hoped that his power with the Force would stop it.