Chapter Three:

Where the Council Chamber Décor Gets an Unexpected Update

Daegen Lok scratched at his beard, trying to get used to it being so much shorter now, as he entered the circular chamber that had served as the meeting place for the Council for as long as Tython had been settled. It looked quite like he remembered from the last time—large windows half-hidden behind maroon drapes (though, thankfully not the same ones as ten years ago) and a floor covered in a rather nondescript chocolate brown-and-tan mosaic.

The back of his neck felt unusually cold, not hidden by his hair anymore as it was. Or perhaps the Temple of Philosophy had always been this drafty and he hadn't noticed the last time he had been there. He hadn't even realized how much his hair had weighed until he cut it, either. Apparently, one did not need to bake himself in the desert sun to learn new things—who would have imagined?

He sat down behind the seat reserved for the Master of Science—he had remember to bring his own chair this time. Council sessions may have been rare, but they tended to consume time like a starved kaash, and Daegen did not feel any need to prove that he could stand for hours. Or sit on the cold floor, for the matter.

Once he was as comfortable as he would get on a folding chair, Daegen looked around to see if anything had changed. Out of the nine seats reserved for the Temple Masters, eight were already occupied, although some by different people. There was one more human among the Temple Masters, which meant that with him, there was six humans in the room in total.

Ketu—Rajivari's apprentice—had actually replaced his teacher as the head of the Council and the Master of the Temple of Philosophy. They still sat next to one another. Ketu was stroking his beard, as listened to whatever Rajivari was whispering into his ear, the older man running his hand against his bald head, his face set into a frown. The lines around his face had grown more pronounced—but that tended to happen if one was so fond of making disapproving expressions.

Miarta Sek was still Master of Skills despite her age. She sat still, attended by another—much younger—togruta. A grandchild? At one point, the rumour was that she had decided to find out if she could give birth to an army all on her own. He did see some resemblance—mainly the facial markings and the size, since both Miarta and the young man, along with the Master of Apprentices were the only people in the room taller than him.

The boy seemed quite attractive, if one liked the type—and not averse to showing it off, given how he exposed his physique. Or perhaps the impressive horns and the long head-tails got in the way of putting on a shirt.

Quan-Jang, Daegen's own teacher and Master of Science, sat next to the old togruta, looking almost unchanged from the time he'd last seen him. There were a few more lines on his dark face and it appeared that something had taken a bite of his ear. Little Shae Koda was standing behind him—well, no longer little.

She and the young togruta exchanged glances.

He did not recognize the blue plump twi'lek woman on the seat of the Master of Knowledge. She seemed quite young for her position—a few years younger than Daegen definitely. Next to her a twi'lek girl bearing a rather uncanny similarity to the woman fidgeted.

Calleh and Naro still were holding the position of Master of Healing together, it appeared. The two selkath had entered with another healer—one of the diminutive green Tythonian natives, their hair gathered in a braid—and started talking in hushed voices with Ruhr, who had apparently been convinced to take become responsible for teaching.

And the wookiee had been protesting so loudly last time Daegen had seen him.

Lha-Mi sat opposite to them, serenely aloof as always. The talid was more social than most members of his species—which meant he actually interacted with people who were not of his own kind.

And then, there was a rather handsome blond human, who seemed to be the Master of Arts, given where he was seated. He did look the part—he had the same air of constipated etherealness that his predecessor had, despite coming from a completely different species. It didn't look too bad on him, though.

That was the point when Daegen told himself firmly that he had spent far too long a time in the desert.

Tem Madog entered last and took the place of the Master of the Forge. The cathar jumped over the seat and landed in a crouch, before sitting down and pretending to be a normal person. Perhaps some were fooled.

"What is so urgent, Ketu?" Lha-Mi asked an irritated tone tinting his voice. Well, the one responsible for the fighters was supposed to be aggressive.

"A possible invasion," Ketu answered bluntly.

That... For a moment, Daegen felt as though the contents of his stomach had been replaced with ice. That was why he was here, then. His vision was coming to pass after all.

"We do not know for certain," Ketu continued. "But given what we have heard from the survivor of the recent shipwreck, and what we know Master Lok had seen, it seems an exceedingly likely possibility."

The chamber broke into an uproar, with several of the council-members speaking over one another.

"It would have been nice, if someone had brought me up to date before the meeting," Daegen commented dryly to Quan-Jang.

"I would not dare to interrupt you with trivial things like that when you were making yourself presentable," Quan-Jang replied placidly. "I have on good authority that your beard looked more like some wild animal attached itself to your face." Then, he added, "We'll get a summary once everyone is done yelling."

That seemed reasonable enough—the temples were quite far apart. It stood to reason that not everyone would have even been aware that a space ship had crashed on Tython. And even if the news had already spread, then likely it would be bereft of details.

"From what I, Masters Sek and Rajivari have learned, it appears the ship was most likely a scouting vessel from something called the Infinite Empire," Ketu said, once the voices died down. "There was one survivor. He seems to be suffering from memory loss and could not tell us why the ship was in this system, or why it crashed."

Which was singularly unhelpful of them, Daegen thought. Then, he wondered what kind of beings would be presumptuous enough to call their empire "the Infinite Empire".

"Is this survivor the source of the darkness in the Force?" Ruhr asked. He bared his fangs for a moment in a grimace of unease more than hostility.

"The one we feel on Tython, yes," Rajivari said turning towards Ruhr. "We can guess that the shadow that we feel in the Galaxy comes from this Empire as a whole, and not from the boy."

The wookiee's exasperated look was still something to behold. It spoke. And right now, it was practically yelling 'Really? You're condescending to me?' Too bad Rajivari's ego was his fortress and could withstand practically everything, save perhaps the conversational equivalent of an orbital strike. He hadn't even blinked, let alone acknowledged that he was being a nuisance.

"Thank you, Master Rajivari, for enlightening us," Daegen said, deciding he might as well enjoy himself. "Truly, we would have never guessed what Ruhr meant without you to explain to us, simple creatures. Perhaps you'd be so kind as to continue or let Master Ketu do so, so we know what else you've learned from the survivor. Does he have a name, perchance?"

"It appears to be Xesh," Miarta Sek said, her voice dry as the desert sand, before Rajivari had a chance to respond. A pity. Daegen had always wanted to see if he could actually goad the man. "He confirmed that the ship he was on could have been a scouting vessel, and regardless of its purpose, more will come. Likely unfriendly, and intent on enslaving those of us who will survive."

And there went Daegen's hopes for keeping himself entertained.

"Then we will need to cooperate, so that we may find something that will discourage them," the older twi'lek woman said. "I will have our historians look into anything useful in regards to the shadow in the Force."

"Thank you, Kora," Ketu said nodding towards the twi'lek. "I hope you will find something—it seems that the day when Master Lok's vision will come true is coming near. As not all of you have heard it, I'd ask you to repeat it to the Council once more, Daegen."

And what fun that was going to be.

Daegen rose and stepped forward. "I saw war," he said. "We were fighting creatures that fed on the Dark as it fed on them. And we were losing the war—there was too many of them. I saw you all die."

He was not going to go into detail—he had spent enough time dissecting the vision already.

"I didn't see the whole war, so I cannot tell you where they will strike or what battles we will fight," he said. "Only that if we let them, they will end us."

"Did you see if they were of any specific race?" Miarta Sek asked orange eyes narrowing.

"Yes," Daegen answered. "I don't know what it was though. I could probably draw a likeness, if you think this will help."

The old woman nodded. "Please do."

"When you said that you saw us die, did you mean the current Council? Or everyone present in this room today?" Calleh asked gesturing with his hand to indicate the seated Masters.

Daegen looked around the room. Tense faces looked back at him. The twi'lek girl's eyes were wide, but it wasn't just from her that he sensed fear and worry. He breathed out slowly, and said, "I saw the current Council die, yes."

The Selkath woman looked pensive at that. It was a reasonable reaction, since it likely meant their time for preparation was severely limited. Joy of joys. Weren't visions of doom a blast?

"We could use this Xesh for deciphering what was left from the ship's computer," Quan-Jang suggested. "If he knows the codes, perhaps he will be willing to give them to us."

Daegen took his as his queue to retreat and sit down again.

"I do not like something—someone so Dark being on Tython at all," Ruhr growled. "It is unsettling the youngest and most sensitive padawans."

"None of us can remember a time when we did not sense Darkness in the wider Galaxy," Ketu replied.

"And now we can guess the source, can we not?" Daegen interjected. "It's people."

He wasn't sure what... galled him about it so badly—perhaps that it meant that something that was like a spreading sickness was not something supernatural after all? Or that the kind of malice could be something mundane?

All of them had been familiar with accessing the force through negative emotions—in the sense that they would see a child lash out in anger when their toy was taken, or perhaps one would strike a poisonous serpent in fear, but to actually continue using the Force like this—twisting it until it bent and broke—that required more than a strong emotion.

That was the thing that was the worst part of his vision. That somewhere, out there, creatures existed that had felt what it was to be one with universe, and decided to break this for... what?

"As... pertinent as this observation is," the Master of Arts said, "I think we are getting off topic here. We should all question this Xesh. Perhaps we can take a break and resume this session once he is brought here."

"This is an excellent suggestion," Ketu said. "Daegen, would you be so kind as to draw the invaders from your vision in the meantime?"

Xesh had given up on figuring out what is going to happen next to him. He probably should have realized he was in some sort of a place where nothing made sense some time ago, but he was stubborn, and he kept on trying for a while now.

He was a prisoner. Probably. The fact that the door was closed and he had no sharp objects on him definitely spoke for prison. The fact that he'd been given something to eat that obviously took much more effort to prepare then pretty much anything he'd ever been given to eat spoke against. Prisoners were a drain, unless put to work or sent to the arena. It made no sense to feed them well. They were supposed to die anyway.

Then again, they had treated his wounds. He was definitely not going to ever complain about that—but those too wounded to tend to their own injuries were also a drain on resources. It made more sense to kill them.

It could all have been some sort of a game—leave him to his devices and make him think of all the things they could do to him. If so, it had worked very well. It was still working very well, in fact.

Xesh bit into a part of his forearm that was not scarred, as he considered this. He really needed to think clearly, and all the fretting and worrying was clouding his mind. He needed something to drown it out. Something he knew how to deal with.

The room did not look like a cell to him. It was painted a pale beige, with some sort of a floral pattern in green just under the ceiling. There was a straw-coloured sofa facing a large window. He could see the overcast sky outside.

And then there was the small table on which someone had left some sort of crispy small snacks. That definitely couldn't be for him, but since no one was watching, he snatched some anyway. By the time anyone noticed he ate them, it would be too late to take them back.

It looked more like a room where someone was meant to wait to be admitted somewhere, which told him nothing other than that the locals still wanted to know more from him.

They had already questioned him once: they had wanted to know who he was, why he was here and all sorts of things that a prisoner ought to be asked, though. Except, they had simply asked—there had been nothing that ought to accompany an interrogation. He supposed that mending his body only to injure him again would be something of a waste. Although, if they could heal him once, they could do it again—he had not mentioned that, in case it had not occurred to his odd captors. He did prefer to stay unharmed.

In the end, he told them what he could remember, as disjointed as it was. He had no master to be loyal to anymore, and no wish to find out what they would eventually do with him, if he refused. Although maybe the white-skinned woman who had faced the snake-thing was his master now. She was strong and brave, and he owed his life to her. That would make sense, wouldn't it? But in that case, he had done the right thing in telling them what he knew, since she was one of them.

He really wished he could remember what had happened before the crash—his memories were still mostly a jumbled mess. Why had they been here? It could have been anything—he could have sensed the world, and lead his master here; or there was some sort of rare animal his master had wanted to hunt; or they had been fighting and stopped to make repairs...

And yet, it was as if the memory had never formed. Try as he might, he could not remember boarding the ship or most of the travel. It was just flashes. Watching his master eat. The hum of engines. Meaningless, scattered things.

And then just as they were nearing the planet, he had killed him. He couldn't remember why. He couldn't remember how their ship got damaged. He'd never- No, that wasn't right. He could think of so many reasons why he'd want to kill his master, but somehow, they had never been good enough to act on.

Now they were. Something was wrong. Or... something had been wrong before?

The door hissed open, and he scrambled to his feet. There was weak stab of pain in his rib, reminding him it had been injured recently, and a moment of dizziness, but he thought he managed not to show either. There was two of them—a man with small horns around his head and dark facial markings and a big human woman.

"Come with us," the man said. He had the same lilting accent as the old horned woman who had questioned him.

There was just two of them. He could try overpowering them and escape. But they were both strong in the Force, armed and bigger than him. Even if he'd manage to do it, there was still the matter of getting out of the building—he had no idea about its layout.

Was there even a reason for him to run?

He followed the man, while the woman fell in behind him. He felt no threat from her, but it helped absolutely nothing with the creeping sense of unease that caused. She was just too calm—he kept wondering if he'd even sense her coming, or if she'd remain serenely aloof as she stabbed him in the back.

It was irrational—or at least he told himself so. They could have executed him earlier. If they hadn't done so yet, they wouldn't do it unless he gave them a reason.

Except that was not how the galaxy worked, he thought as they walked down the spacious hall and passed what looked like little gardens interspaced with large windows. Perhaps they had grown bored with whatever game they were playing with him, or maybe he had failed some sort of a test they had set up for him. The best he could count for was that they would decide they needed what he knew about the Infinite Empire, and then they might see some other use for him.

Daegen Lok was not an artist, having never bothered with practicing how to draw long enough to get anywhere past doodling weird shapes out of boredom. As such, his likeness of the creatures from his vision was fairly crude—not that they were anything but grotesque with the oddly shaped heads and eyes on stalks that protruded from the sides as if slapped on as an afterthought.

Frankly, he was starting to suspect that they had turned to conquest and doing horrible things with the Force out of sheer spite. Or the Force made them look like idiots in self-defence.

His idle musing ground to a halt when the survivor of the crash was led into the room. It wasn't that he was an imposing figure—he was of average height and more wiry than muscular. Not bad looking, though the frown and the way he kept looking down did a quite good job of making that hard to judge. What really drew the attention were the eyes—they were a rather startling pale blue. The dark eyelashes and the pale purple tattoo made them stand out even more, then they would have in the contrast with his tan skin.

But what made Daegen pay attention was how Xesh felt in the Force—despair, fear and hostility all frozen into something dark, overpowering and entirely wrong. How anyone could keep sustaining that was something Daegen didn't even want to consider.

"We have further questions for you," Ketu said with an expression of polite disinterest on his face. Frankly, Daegen thought the show wasted on the boy, but perhaps as the Master of Temples had some greater insight Daegen's feeble, sun-baked mind could not grasp. He doubted it was the case, but the possibility, as slim as it was, was there. "Will you answer them?"

Xesh didn't answer right away. He glanced around the room and in that moment, he really seemed more like a trapped animal than a sentient being.

"Yes," he finally said tersely, just as Daegan was starting to consider voicing his impatience.

That... was looking too easy. Daegen still sensed hostility from the boy—he didn't feel like someone willing to cooperate. Perhaps fear accounted for his willingness. It looked like the most logical answer.

"How soon can we expect an invasion?" Ketu asked. Normally, he would have leaned forward then, but now he kept his posture fixed. Rajivari, on the other hand, had leaned over his arm. The boy's eyes darted towards him for a moment, before he focused his attention back on Ketu.

Again, he took a moment to answer, but this time he obviously was considering what to answer instead if he should say anything at all. "My master's superiors will need to decide he and his vessel are lost in action. Then, they will likely send a second one to investigate—and then, they will send a fleet." He hesitated, and then added, "Unless there is something that would make them decide to forgo caution." Another pause. "I don't know how long your standard days are, so I can't tell you exactly how long it will take right now, but it will probably several months, at least."

"How many ships is a fleet? How many soldiers will there be?" Ketu continued.

"That depends on what the next scout will report, if they send one," Xesh said. "Assuming they're going in blind and they want to keep most of the population alive, there will at least be a capital ship with escorts and somewhere around twenty troop transports – those usually have ten thousand troops on board." He frowned. "They will likely pick officers who have Force hounds, since you have so many Force sensitives here, so there'd be from twenty to sixty of them. Not all of them would be deployed though, because most masters would keep at least one around themselves in case someone wants to use that they're without a bodyguard."

"So, those… force hounds are bodyguards? Specialist troops which double as bodyguards?" the older twi'lek woman—Kora—asked, rubbing her lekku.

"Force sensitive slaves trained to seek out and fight other Force sensitives and act as bodyguards, sometimes assassins," the boy replied.

"You're one, aren't you?" Daegen guessed.

The boy nodded. Well, that made things all the more entertaining, didn't it? They had a child assassin-cum-bodyguard on their hands. Who, under normal circumstances would have been supposed to kill them.

"And how many other troops will be Force sensitive?" Rajivari asked. He kept watching the boy like a hungry manka cat might watch its prey.

"Only the Rakata," Xesh answered. He took a few steps away from the old man, watching him like something that might spring at any moment and tear his throat out.

"What of the scout—do you know who this Empire will send?" Lha-Mi asked and the boy's attention snapped to him.

Xesh shook his head.

"Will they be Force sensitive? A… Force hound, was it? A slave, a free person?" Lha-Mi continued, some irritation creeping into his voice.

"Force sensitive," Xesh said. He took a step back, and tensed visibly. "Likely one of the masters with several attending slaves. Maybe with a Force Hound, if they think they can risk losing one. Maybe someone who angered their superior."

"Those masters of yours," Daergen said, "are they of one species?"

"Yes," Xesh answered. He turned towards Daegen then— although his gaze stopped at Shae for a moment, before returning to Daegen's feet.

"Do they look like this?" he asked, holding up his sketch.

The boy took a few steps closer and examined it for a moment. Finally, he nodded. Well, at least he was polite enough not to comment on the quality.

"You're not very talkative, are you?" Daegen commented dryly.

It earned him a confused look—or well, his chin seemed to be the target. Then, Xesh said, "No," in a tone that was very clear a 'I'm trying very hard not to ask the crazy person why they are asking irrelevant stupid questions.' Charming creature, really.

"Not very polite either, are you?" Daegen continued. Beside him, Quan-Jang slid his hand over his face, but since he was making no comments to restrain Daegen, clearly there was no reason to stop.

It actually appeared to worry the boy and that meant maybe Daegen would get closer to finding out what motivated him to decide to help them so quickly.

"Look me in the eye when talking with me," he said.

The boy looked up obediently enough, looking as confused as he had when Daegen had commented on how little he had talked.

"That's better," Daegen said. "Now about those masters of yours, do they use the Force like you do?"

"Mostly yes," the boy answered. Daegen sensed him grow more nervous—but then it was reaching a point where a blind, deaf, comatose vegetable after a lobotomy would have been able to sense that. He glanced to the side towards the Master of Arts, who had shifted in his seat.

"Eye contact," Daegen sighed heavily.

The boy looked back to him, now even more tense, almost like he was about to run.

"Far am I from spoiling your fun, Master Lok, but perhaps you could stop bullying him over nothing?" Shae Koda asked and actually moved between Daegen and Xesh. "You're just being a jerk pointlessly."

"Ah, so my master took you as an apprentice because you keep adopting dangerous strays just like him?" Daegen asked, quite put out at having his attempt at goading the boy into showing something of himself thwarted-

Except—yes, that there was definitely was a look of awe, with a definite possibility of swooning. Although, perhaps swooning was not the right word. Still, it did tell Daegen something about the boy, alright. Namely, that he was barely adult.

"That's enough," Quan-Jang said. "Both of you, behave."

By then, Daegen had thought better of what he saw, though. Clearly, Xesh was unused to anyone standing up for him given the strong reaction. And little Shae Koda did that in all her youthful earnestness. Really, young people were sometimes amazingly predictable. And that was something they could use.

He retreated obediently, and once he was seated again, Shae moved back to her spot behind Quan-Jang. Sadly, the boy managed to contain himself and did not provide Daegen with any further means of amusing himself.

Well, he'd wait, listen and watch—there were many other things they needed to ask.

The warm brown liquid smelled pleasant, but that clearly had been camouflage, since the first sip he took was bitter and absolutely vile. He took another sip just to be sure he hadn't imagined the horrible taste, but no.

It was betrayal in liquid form, as far he was concerned. Something this disgusting had no business smelling like that.

Still, it was liquid, everyone else was drinking it and he'd been talking a lot. Just because it was horrible, it didn't mean he should refuse it and go without anything to drink for however long they would think he needed to understand his mistake. Or make them realize that since they asked him all the questions he could answer (and some he couldn't, and several which just made no sense) he was essentially useless to them.

It had been stupid of him, really. He should have—well, what exactly? Bargained? He was their prisoner, and even if so far, they had done nothing to him it didn't mean they would tolerate him forgetting what he was.

"We have other questions for you," their leader said. It was odd thinking of a human like this. Still, the others deferred to him visibly and he could sense respect for him from almost all of them, even if he was neither the eldest nor the strongest in their group. He was about the same height as Xesh—somewhat bulkier. His skin was not as dark as he'd seen on some humans, more like some kinds of reddish clay in colour.

The statement was not one he had expected, given that he was fairly sure he told them all he could about the Infinite Empire and what to expect of an invasion from them. What else would he know of interest for them?

"How were you trained in the Force?" the man asked, and this time Xesh managed to sense curiosity from him. It was the first time he picked up anything else than eerie tranquillity from him.

"My master taught me," Xesh answered. It had been training? Not pleasant in any way, but he had survived it. He balled his hands into fists, nails digging into his palms. "I fought others."

That... clearly was not the answer they wanted, but he couldn't think of- No that wasn't true. He didn't want to talk about it. He didn't want to remember it at all. It would have been nice if that had been the memories he'd lost in the crash, but the universe definitely didn't see any reason to become accommodating to him now.

"Do you remember using the Force differently?" the old horned woman asked.

He nearly said no but stopped himself. That was not true. It had just been long ago, before some of the things had happened he'd rather not think about at all, and especially not in front of a Force sensitive audience, who could sense his weakness. Not when all ways of escape were cut off.

Still. They'd know if he lied. He swallowed and tried to fight back the memory of when he'd learned just what exactly it took to survive. His voice was breaking now. "Yes. As a child."

"And why did you stop? Was it something your master taught you?" one of the other humans asked—the brown-haired one that had been trying to goad him before.

"I didn't want to die," he said, and tried not to think what that meant—not even the pain, but the sense of inevitable death, life slipping away, other lives winking out around him-

The glass in the windows cracked and then blew outwards, shards splintering in the air even more. The window frames held, though they buckled—and the door to the chamber bent first and then slammed into the wall opposite to it. It happened in mere seconds.

Lha-Mi was first to act. He covered the distance between Xesh and himself in one jump, hand shooting out with snake-like speed to knock the young man out. Shae probably could have told him this was a bad idea, had this been a situation where you can tell someone that.

Xesh dove under Lha-Mi's punch and slammed his fist into the Talid's elbow, knocking the hit away. He grabbed hold of the Talid's arm and threw him over his shoulder. Lha-Mi landed on his feet fluidly and shifted to protect his right arm.

Xesh moved to a crouch, his breathing coming in short panicked gasps. It seemed like he was mostly operating on instinct, his attention focused on the person who had just tried to attack him. Shae moved slowly to the front, making sure not to make any sudden movements that would catch his attention. She wasn't sure what she was going to do yet, but someone needed to do something that wouldn't escalate the situation further.

And then, Daegen Lok rose and said, "Sleep."

Shae felt the suggestion in the Force—a whisper at the edge of hearing. It... wouldn't work, she could tell that too—it was too subtle, one pebble where a boulder was needed. It wouldn't even begin to pierce the panic and the pain, let alone influence Xesh in any way.

"Sleep," Master Ketu repeated.

"Sleep," Master Kora said making a small gesture with her blue hand.

Xesh stumbled, the waves of panic dying down around him and bleeding into confusion.

"Sleep." Master Ruhr's will joined the others.

Xesh dropped to the floor.

"That was not exactly the outcome I expected," Daegen Lok said, sitting back down.

"Why would anyone do that to another person?" Shae asked, and shuddered. Not that she had an exact idea what 'that' was, but the wave of panic and pain had been enough to tell her it was horrible.

"That is a very good question," Quan-Jang said inclining his bald head towards her. "Among others we should ask. Unfortunately, I don't think asking our only source of information them would be wise. Unless there are some rooms that need redecorating?"

"I'm sure we can find some," Daegen Lok said with a sardonic smile.

"There are easier ways to do it, though, aren't there?" Shae asked, deciding to curb the situation in the bud. "Like letting a rancor brood in it."

Master Ketu cleared his throat. "This is not the time." He looked at Xesh, his expression turning pensive. The young man had curled up into a defensive ball—even asleep he didn't really look at peace. "We should decide what to do with him."

"Isn't it obvious?" Master Rajivari said in a matter-of-fact tone. "We should study his connection to the Force. More like him will come, and we will need to counter them."

"It's too dangerous," Master Ruhr countered. He gestured around himself to emphasise the point. "We need to isolate him."

"There is an invasion coming," Daegen Lok snapped. "Master Rajivari is right—as callous as it sounds. We cannot throw away a potential asset. Let the boy serve a purpose instead of discarding him like a broken tool."

Shae grit her teeth, but held her tongue. Master Quan-Jang had placed his hand on her arm in a gesture that was both placating and warning.

"He is not a tool," Master Naro said, taking voice for the first time. "He's a person, and we should treat him as such."

"He's a threat," Lha-Mi growled as he rubbed his elbow. "Look at this—his first instinct to something that upsets him is to lash out." He was rubbing his elbow with a wince.

"He was upset the whole time, Lha-Mi," Master Madog said. "That went quite beyond upset." He looked at the windows. "That said, I agree with Master Ruhr. We should isolate him—for our safety as much as his."

"Isolate him how?" Sek'nos's grandmother asked, half-rising from her chair. "Shall we lock him in a cell somewhere and keep him there?"

The Council was breaking up into yelling once more, the Temple Masters and Daegen Lok all shouting arguments at one another. Only Master Ketu remained silent, his eyes hooded and his expression unreadable.

"Perhaps we should decide on a compromise," he finally said, when the shouting reached a lull. "We will keep him in a secure location, and observe. If it seems that his... condition is reversible, then we can think of allowing him more freedom. If not, then we isolate him further so that he is no danger. And in the meantime, we learn what we can of the darkness in the Force and how to weaken it."

The silence that settled was heavy, and there was a palpable sense of relief when Master Madog broke it. "How would you 'reverse' his condition?"

"It's caused by a traumatic event it seems," Master Calleh said as she stroked her barbels. "Logically, helping him move past it, might do the trick."

"That will not be easy," Master Naro pointed out to his wife. He placed a webbed pale purple hand on her smaller teal one. "It might not even be possible at all."

This time Shae didn't let herself be held back and snapped, "Well, does that mean we should give up straight away, without even trying?"

"That is not what Naro meant," Quan-Jang chided.

"I think what dear Shae meant is that she is volunteering to help," Daegen Lok said with the kind of superior amused smirk that ought to be treated as irrefutable grounds for punching someone in the teeth. Unfortunately, it was not. Plus, punching didn't usually solve the underlying problem. Like someone being a smug asshole convinced they were the smartest person in the room.

Not to mention, he kind of was right. She did want to help.

AN

So, the changes from the comic are:

- I tried to give the council more varied builds, and make the humans less uniformly white.
- Daegen doesn't recognize Jake Fenn because they never met and the news-service in the Silent Desert is kind of crappy outside of Qigong Kesh.