Nariel Pridence watched the Raudra in fascination as her Master treated with them.

The one taking the lead was one of the women, the shortest of the three. Her voice was rougher than the other two, and her eyes were mismatched.

"So we can begin speaking at last then," she stated, ZS-33 acting as the intermediary.

"Indeed we can," Master Oteg bowed. "We thank you for your cooperation."

"And we yours. After the carnage caused by the last one to come down from the skies, I dreaded we had another fight on our hands. At first we thought them gods… within hours we knew they were demons."

"'Demon' is an apt term," Oteg said. "They are called 'Sith', and most of them gain great pleasure for making others suffer. We are the Jedi. We have been at open war with them for nearly twenty-five years. We regret not coming sooner. Perhaps we could have spared you much grief."

"It pains us to let guests fight for us," the leader said. "But perhaps your intervention could have saved three clans."

The others raised objections which ZS dutifully translated.

"But Matron!" the man cried. "They are outsiders… guests!"

"It is sacrilege to allow guests to die for us!" the woman whispered furiously.

"Three clans lie dead to the last infant, pup, and goat," the Matron said heavily. "A fourth has only one remaining survivor. I was there when he asked if we had seen his father… his mothers… his sisters. His youngest was just three. We tried not to let him see her body, but… young though he was, he was no fool. He understood. Oh, how he screamed…"

Nariel was intrigued by that exchange. So was Master WenSuul, going by her twitchy nose.

"Forgive us… we have not even introduced ourselves. My name is Uupa WenSuul."

"And I am Oteg. This is my apprentice, Nariel. We are Knights of the Jedi Order."

"My name is Sumathi," the leader said. "I am the Matriarch of the Veerabhadra clan. This is Sukanya." She pointed at the taller, more beautiful woman. "And this is Kuberan. He leads this division, which is my honour guard for this excursion." It was around this time Nariel realised that ZS might be using equivalents which might not mean the same thing as the original words. She looked at the man, who was taller and more powerfully built than the others.

"Can you tell us about what happened?"

"Did you not learn it as you did our language?"

"They did not record their time here, I'm afraid. All we know is that he and his crew took Clan Vijayadanda captive. And their logs also recorded much of what they learned of your language through their captives—who I regret to inform you are dead."

"That is grievous," Sumathi sighed and shrugged. "That means that their Clan is also dead." A tear ran down to her chin. "It started two weeks ago," she said. "Several clans saw a falling star. Traditionally, the herald of some of our golden ages… and our darkest. It fell near Mount Mandakini. The Vijayadanda were closest, and moved to investigate. My own clan found their remains. None escaped, but a scribe managed to record their painful, final encounter. They found people in that crater, and offered assistance. Their leader took several women and girls prisoner, and killed all the rest. Their iron born burned every tree, scoured every cave for half a yojana. One of my sisters married into a Vijayadanda tent. We haven't found her body."

"The next clan to cross their path were the Vamandas," Sukanya said, as Sumathi looked too pained for a while. "My brother joined them after his own wedding."

"They were both caught unawares," Kuberan supplied. "They were investigating the fallen star as well—for we sometimes find precious metals in their cores—and the demons, these… Sith… saw an opportunity for more sport. Their bodies were just left in the snow where they fell. The final expressions on many faces was horror. The Panchalas met a similar fate. The Devarathas were the final clan to meet them. They had an aged priest with the Gift, who felt the enemy approach. With little time to run, they instead ambushed their attackers, slaughtering the weaker Sith before they had a chance to respond. Their leader was harder though… by the time his fellows were dead, the Devarathas had only lost seven of their own. And one of the arrows had taken his eye; another stuck in his shoulder. That only made his rage all the more potent. He slaughtered all two hundred and seventy warriors, then began chasing after the caravan they'd fought to protect. According to our sole surviving witness, the elderly priest grew enraged when he saw his grandchildren and great-grandchildren cut down. He attacked the surprised Sith, throwing half a mountain's worth of rocks at him. The Sith somehow defended against these projectiles. It appeared they had the Gift as well—"

"Ohhhh!" Nariel blurted. "They mean the Force!"

"Yes, Padawan. But remember yourself. Some people can be mightily offended when they are interrupted." Master Oteg said gently. The man she interrupted didn't seem to care, and neither of his companions. Nariel blushed and apologized.

"Yes. Like I was saying. He had the Gift, but he was not able to use it for aught but defence. But the Priest, perhaps sensing his time near, made one final attack. He called the wrath of the heavens upon the Sith. A single bolt of lightning which nearly blinded the survivor. When he opened his eyes, the Sith was slain, and the last of his clanmates was dead."

"I was the one who found him," Sumathi said. "Myself. He lay motionless among the dead, beside the corpse of his true-mother. Waiting for her to arise. Part of him already knew that she never would."

"This survivor…"

"A boy of nearly five summers, named Vajra. He was the son of Sanjay and Divya." ZS tilted his head for a moment. "Umm, Masters," he added. "Based on analysis of the planet's orbit, that should mean about five years in Galactic reckoning too."

"Thank you, ZS. How big is a five-year-old? How long until they are considered adults?"

The trio looked confused for a moment. "It is different for different peoples," Master Oteg added.

"Ah. I see. He is this high," the Matriarch said, holding her hand slightly above her knee. "We stop growing at age thirty, but are trusted with most decisions, including marriage, diplomacy, haggling, war, and pathfinding by the age of twenty."

"I am still twenty-five," Kuberan said. "And I am the Captain of this warband. Niyati there is my wife." He pointed to a woman nearly as pretty as Sukanya, who smiled charmingly and folded her hands.

"If I may ask… why was Vajra the one protected by the priest?" Oteg asked. "You said all of his grand- and great-grand-children were dead."

The three looked questioningly at each other. "We do not know," Sumathi admitted. "However… we assign some children to assist the elderly. Carry their waterskins, clean their clothes and bedrolls, prepare their food, hear their stories. To learn service, patience, and compassion, along with whatever wisdom they might find. Perhaps this was Vajra's duty, on that day?"

"What can you tell me of him?" VenSuul asked.

"Next to nothing," Sumathi admitted. "He has closed himself off from the outside. Even his testimony had to be coaxed out of him with incense made from the Nidramata flowers while he slept. Given all that we found at the last massacre, we believe it to be accurate."

Oteg looked thoughtful, but WenSuul went on. "The Force… the Gift… must have spared him for a reason."

The three Raudra looked interestedly, and Sukanya nodded. "Indeed. We shall take care of him. We take care of our own. I am one of many who has offered to be his mother. Every clan out there has offered to take him in. If he can overpower his grief, he has the chance for the same life as the rest of us."

"Now it is time for our questions," Sumathi said. "Who are the Sith, and who are the Jedi? Why do you fight? What can we do to prevent it from ever befouling our lands again?"

Master Oteg nodded. "Of course! Padawan Pridence! Will you summarize the history for us?"

"Yes Master!" Nariel stood up straight. "The Jedi are keepers of the peace. We are servants of the Force. We seek out the Force through peace and meditation. The Sith are an offshoot of our own people who—centuries ago—decided that our goal should be power and domination rather than service."

Sukanya spat onto the floor, and Kuberan uttered what had to be a series of curses.

"It seems the concept of domination goes against the teachings of their ancestor-god Rudra," ZS interpreted. "It seems that he freed his children from a mighty serpent, aeons ago, and declared that they will never be slaves again. That is one of the key tenets of their culture. If I may add, Masters: I really like this language of theirs! The words are a little too long, but the logical structure seems quite good for such primitive culture, well-suited for poetry and hymns! Why, that foul oath just now was high poetry, worthy of a place in any Alderaan High House opera!"

"Interesting!" Oteg looked pleased.

Sumathi gave her fellows stern looks, and they apologized. "Forgive our interruption," she said. "Please, continue!"

"Yes, Matron! The Sith left our own world when we defeated them millennia ago, and found a different one to conquer. There, they waited and grew. But they have not forgotten their ancient defeat. Several times now, they have emerged from their hidden fortress worlds to make war on the rest of the galaxy. Entire worlds have been destroyed in their meaningless search for vengeance."

"They would hurt innocents in this pathetic quest?" the Matron asked disgustedly.

"Yes. They follow their passions, even if those passions are vile."

The three Raudra made warding gestures. "Then how can we fight them off?" Sukanya asked. "We lost four clans killing just seven Sith!"

"I don't think you have to worry for now," WenSuul assured them. "They failed to send word of your existence to the rest of their misbegotten ilk. Perhaps they can find you by happenstance, as Darth Bellicose did. But that rarely happens. The Skies are a big place."

"If it's fine by you, we can arrange an outpost here," Oteg suggested. "So that the next time something happens, you can call for help."

Sumathi bowed. "An offer of that magnitude is only for the Capital to hear. Or our Monarch, should times call for one. If it is not too much to ask… please accept our hospitality. We go to our Capital, Jnanaprastha, both to report the success of our mission, and to present your generous offer. The Festival of Lamps is to be celebrated there as well. I might add that there will be rather more ardour than usual, given the recent disturbance. The four Clans will be mourned as well, and the priest of Devarath consigned to the Father. Vajra will be presented as well, as thanks for his survival. Perhaps you can judge him for yourself."

"We don't seek to judge him," Oteg said.

"Not that precise word, but I do want to see him," WenSuul added. "He is the only survivor among, how many dead?"

"Around four thousand," Sukanya said. She was somewhat cool. "Ever do the survivors draw undue attention among the philosophers and nobles. He is a traumatized orphan, not a fascinating insect."

Sumathi looked at her angrily, but WenSuul soothed her. "Pardon my impertinence. But with the Gift comes a certain… instinct. And mine tells me that I need to see him."

"He is of Raudraksha," Sukanya was openly angry now. "If you seek to adopt him, you must stay here. And live as us."

"In this, I agree with her," Sumathi said. "It is not permitted for one of us to even travel beyond sight of our shores. If you take Vajra away, both you and he will be damned in our eyes."

"That is not my intent," WenSuul said. "But I must insist. Sometimes, the Gift issues a call we cannot refuse. This is mine." Bending down, she placed her head in the floor. "Please. Allow me to see Vajra. And, if it is what the Force wills, take him with me when I leave."

All three looked troubled now. "It is said that Vajra has some clarity for his age," Kuberan said at last. "When he's lucid. We will take you to see him. And when he denies you, you will drop this subject. If you attempt to use force to take one of us, you forfeit your guest right, for all time. Along with your kin."

"That is all I can ask," WenSuul said.

"And do not bow your head to your youngers and lessers again here on Raudraksha," Sukanya added. "It is unbecoming, and shames we who are supposed to be your hosts; though I think I understand what it means in your culture."

"I understand," WenSuul said. Kuberan helped the Master rise.

"Let us put this behind us for now," Sumathi said. "Please, have supper with us, and let us guard you while you sleep. Tomorrow, we make for our Capital."

Later that night, as the Raudra danced to entertain everyone, Oteg spoke softly to his Padawan.

"What do you think of these Raudra, Padawan?"

Nariel was eager to share her opinion. "They seem to value freedom and peace!" she replied. "They were even willing to speak to us despite what happened."

"They are also wise," Oteg replied. "And intelligent. Several times today, they understood quickly that their ways are not ours; even Captain Toramad observed it. They also accepted facts strange to them easily enough, if with a bit of surprise and even wonder. ZS—along with B8—thought that theirs was an artistic language. Well defined. I also noticed their compassion for each other. They clearly do not personally know many of those that died, yet the survivor, this 'Vajra', has many families offering to adopt him. Sukanya was quick to rise up in his defence. And though he said nothing, Kuberan was ready as well. He looked ready to attack Uupa when Sukanya noticed her rather overt interest in the child."

"You… you were able to get all that?" Nariel asked in wonder.

"And so must you, if you are to be a Jedi. The smallest acts have consequences; the smallest words, meanings. To be a Jedi is to be in touch with the Force, which is the network that forms these meanings and consequences."

"I understand, Master!" she bowed to him.

"But they seem wary of their leaders," Oteg said thoughtfully. "Sukanya let it slip by accident with that comment about nobles and philosophers. Distaste of the ruling class is universal, it seems."

"And they're clearly gifted in song and dance too," WenSuul added, nodding to the performers before them. "And their jewellery was exquisite. I've never had a more favourable first opinion of a primitive species."

"Do you think they're all warriors?" Nariel asked.

"No," Oteg shook his head. "These ones are, for they were prepared to fight us and die if we proved hostile. Notice that they mentioned pups, goats, and calves in their caravans. Their main hosts are migrating villages, I think."

"I wonder what their cities will be like?" WenSuul wondered.

"We shall see, tomorrow."