Chapter 10: The Council Of First Knowledge

[Instructors' Quarters, the Ouran, orbiting Falleen, the Falleen system]

"Loton, council session in five," Zourvux called into the office as she walked past.

Master Loton Hanta set down his datapad, "Alright, thanks."

He rose from his desk and pulled on his black cloak, drawing it around him and tying it closed. Everything he wore was black – black tunic, black trousers, black boots, black tabard – except the red and white striped sash at his belt that disappeared beneath his cloak as he tied it. He was a short, pale Icarii with vaguely longish brown hair which was kept swept back and tucked behind his ears. At the same age as Zourvux, his relatively smooth, boyish face gave entirely the wrong impression of both his age and character.

He marched out of his office, ordering Brig to lock it as he closed the door. As he proceeded to the lifts, he found few people in the halls but had to quickly sidestep as Pablo-Jill came running past.

"Padawan Jill," Loton barked out irritably, Jill freezing in his tracks and cringing. "Kindly explain why you choose to treat these passageways as you would a smashball court."

"Er... well, you see.."

"Yes?" said Loton icily.

"Well, there's a training exhibition now in the Rotunda... and... I'm... kind of... late..." his answer slowly petered away into non-existence.

Loton raised an eyebrow, "I see no-one else in these passages who is lagging behind. Would you agree then that the scheduling for the event is sufficient?"

"Er... yes?"

"Firstly, it is 'yes, Master Hanta'. Secondly, do not answer my question with a question – your inflection of tone suggests you are asking me to give you your answer. I will do no such thing; answer my question with your opinion please."

"Yes, Master Hanta," replied Pablo, more confidently.

"Well, if there is no problem with the scheduling, would you then also agree that your lateness is the fault of your inability to properly keep time in this instance?"

Pablo's shoulders slumped a little, "Yes, Master Hanta."

"So then, please explain to me why someone else should have to dodge you when you are at fault."

"They shouldn't, Master Hanta – I was in the wrong."

Loton nodded, "Good, you seen your error. Normally I would ingrain the lesson more but I have a council session to attend – if I do catch you committing a similar wrongdoing in the future then you will receive proper punishment. Am I clear?"

Pablo nodded, "Yes, Master Hanta."

"On your way then," replied Loton and strode off once more to the lifts, leaving Pablo to contemplate his good fortune.

[The Rotunda, the Ouran]

"Point to Siri," Adi called as a droid clattered to the floor in the ring below. She turned to Qui-Gon.

"Her form is excellent," he mutedly intoned.

"Yes, it is," she replied, "But I wish she was less... eager."

"That is a lesson Siri must learn for herself," said Saesee from Adi's other side.

The six Jedi – Adi, Plo, Saesee, Micah, Qui-Gon and Kit Fisto were grouped around the edge of the ring, looking down at Obi-Wan and Siri as they attempted the trial that had thwarted Bruck and Bant. Ranik Solusar had already left.

"Did you manage to cheer your padawan up?" Micah asked Kit – an upstanding, young, green Nautolan with a formidable chin and an ever-present smile.

"Yes, I did in the end," he said in his jovial Nautila tones, "told her about when I failed this test – pretty miserably at that. That got a smile out of her. She certainly smells a lot happier at any rate."

"Watch your footing, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon called down at his padawan before joining the discussion. "Padawan Eerin will be fine; she's rather thick skinned. A larger concern is Padawan Chun."

Micah grimaced, "He's a problem, that one. Master Sifo-Dyas has been having a lot of conversations with Ranik about Bruck. Personally, I think he was paired with the wrong master, simple as that."

"Were these conversations of the usual kind between those two?" asked Plo.

"Most certainly," said Micah, "The old married couple haven't changed a bit and I'm pretty sure I'll be dead before they do. Point still stands though; either Ranik needs to drastically change his teaching style or Bruck needs reassignment."

"Masters," they looked over to see Aayla looking at them somewhat nervously, "Um.. could I ask you something?"

"Well of course, my dear – you just did after all," said Kit with one of his dazzling smiles.

"Although, I'm afraid I won't be able to stay to hear your question," said Micah, "I have a Council of First Knowledge meeting to attend. Good meeting you, Master Gallia, Master Fisto." with that, he left them and exited the Rotunda through the nearest door.

"So what can we do for you, young Padawan?" asked Plo.

"Masters... if death is just returning to The Force... is it... wrong to feel sad when someone dies?"

"I got this," said Adi and the others turned back to the ring. Adi took Aayla by the hand and led her to a nearby seat. She waited until Aayla was settled before beginning, "The Force flows through all life. It is the source of it. People never truly die – they just become one with The Force again, this is true. But they will remain as we remember them as long as they are remembered. As long as someone is alive to remember them, the dead are always with those who knew and cared for them in life. What we miss is the sound of a voice, the touch of a hand, a laugh, hearing their wisdom. It is good to mourn them; if those who die meant nothing to us, we would not mourn them."

"But... but I thought that, as Jedi. We aren't supposed to give in to emotions?" asked Aayla, sounding confused.

"We're people, Padawan Secura," said Adi. "We feel emotion just like anyone else – we can't just turn it off, nor would we wish to. A life of denying one's emotion is frankly unhealthy. No-one's asking you to stop feeling. What's important is that we don't let ourselves be ruled by emotion. Does that make more sense?"

Aayla nodded, "Yes. Yes, thank you Master Gallia."

"No problem," chuckled Adi as she rose and ruffled Aayla's lekku.

"OW!" started Aayla, pulling her head away and rubbing her lekku.

"Oh, sorry! I didn't think..."

"It's fine, Master Gallia" Aayla replied. From the other side of the arena, Stass kept a firm gaze fixed on the whole exchange.

She twitched.

"How do you think Kenobi and Tachi are doing?" came Agen from beside her.

"Alright I guess," she replied, not noticing his scrutinising gaze on her face.

"Pity they're going to fail."

"Guess so."

"They have good form."

"Sure do."

"That was a good move."

"Yep."

"I mean it's not everyday you see two fifteen-year-olds snort that many different drugs in one go."

"That's true."

Agen gave her a look, "Stass."

"Yeah."

"You have no idea what you just agreed with. Do you?"

"Probably."

"Stass!" Agen followed it up with a good pinch.

"Ow! What the-"

"Stass. You were doing it again."

"Oh," her hands tightened on the balustrade. "Shit," she stared at them, fighting to keep her breathing calm.

It was a losing battle.

Agen slowly reached over and took each hand off the balustrade, holding them in his and gently tugging her to face him, "Go and see her; she's there. Right there, for you."

Stass didn't say anything, her violet eyes gaped at him, as a rabbit in the headlights.

"What if she hadn't come back from Troiken?" Agen continued, "What if she doesn't come back next time? Please. For me?"

She took a deep breath in, then out again.

"Alright. For you."

"Thank you."

Stass got up and began to walk round the edge of the arena, keeping her eyes fixed on Adi.

She could do this.

She could do this.

Adi had by this point rejoined the other masters and they were once again engaged in light conversation as they kept keen eye on Kenobi and Tachi below.

Stass could hear her own breathing; it was loud.

She fought to calm it.

No luck.

She was close to Adi now.

Her heart was pounding in her ears.

Adi was mere feet away.

She opened her mouth.

And then Adi spoke, "So, do you want to tell them or should I?"

"Please, allow me," replied Qui-Gon, who then addressed the two padawans in the arena below. "You have both failed the exercise."

"My office now please, Siri," added Adi, who turned and left the rotunda.

Stass stared at where Adi had just been, her mouth still hanging open. She turned and looked at Agen across the room, who gestured insistently at the door Adi had left through. Stass sighed and began her slow plod in the direction of Adi's office.

[The Council Of First Knowledge Chamber, the Ouran]

The Council Of First Knowledge was assembled.

It was a fourteen-strong body of the order's finest, dedicated to the sole purpose of managing the education of all students of the order. Each member specialised to a unique field of expertise. Micah was the specialist on modern technology – advanced materials, computers and the like. He folded his cloak and draped it over the back of his chair before sitting down.

"Alright, I know none of you are pleased by my calling this virtually notice-less session," began Zourvux, the current Keeper of First Knowledge. "But there are some rather pressing concerns we need to address. First and foremost: I need to reassure all of you that no younglings or apprentices are unaccounted for in the wake of Stark's sabotage. Instructors is another matter entirely. Currently, thirty one Jedi in total are unaccounted for due to the sabotage. Three of them were instructors – Master Noro Zak, Master Ilena Xan and of course Master Tyvokka. Thankfully neither Noro nor Tyvokka were full-time instructors; Ilena's disappearance however is more problematic. We need another unarmed combat specialist; we were short-handed on them as it was."

"Do you have any suggestions?" asked Master Du Mahn – head of diplomatic training – from Zourvux's immediate left.

"Tentatively, Pong Krell – but this is really more of Halsey and Sora's ballpark. Do either of you have any ideas?" Zourvux replied, turning her head to master Sora Bulq – the incumbent unorthodox combat expert sitting to the right of Micah – and then to Master Halsey Lev'Loa – the current Battlemaster two seats to her own right.

"I'm not sure," came Sora's soft reply, "Krell lacks the specialist knowledge, using his physique to his advantage mostly. It doesn't seem to have been especially popular in the last few generations, unfortunately. It appears to be getting some kind of resurgence in the current one – Youngling Jeisel, Padawans K'Kruhk and Allie for example show both interest and skill in the discipline. But I cannot think of anyone we don't already have instructing on it."

"Voolvif Monn, perhaps?" came Halsey's reply, "If we can convince him – which is rather doubtful."

There was silence for a moment as they all thought.

"I have one suggestion," came Even Piell's Lannik drawl from Zourvux' right. "The Dark Woman."

The reaction was both immediate and predictable.

"ABSOLUTELY NOT!" shouted Bolla Ropal – the Holocron Loremaster – from Du's left.

And then the entire council descended into shouting chaos. All except for Zourvux and Yoda – on Bolla's left. The two gave each other a look. Zourvux sighed; this was going to be a long session.

[Unknown]

Tyvokka, gripped the joysticks as the cruiser plummeted through the atmosphere, trailing fire in its wake. He was uncomfortably reminded of the fate of The Invincible. He tugged harder. The craft began to slowly level out, ever so slowly. The heat shielding had failed some time ago and Tyvokka was very much wishing for the ability to sweat.

'Come on... come on...'

His ship was now about forty five degrees from vertical. Better, but not enough.

There was a disconcerting wrenching sound. One of the few functioning readouts said that a large piece of the hull had been torn away. The ship began to spiral, down through the sky. He pulled harder still, the craft began to drift more and more towards the horizontal. Then one of the joysticks snapped off in his hand. Dropping the now-useless rod, he gripped the remaining stick with both hands, the ship was near enough level, but only having one functioning joystick was causing the ship to spin.

Two more things happened very abruptly. First, the engine stalled, then died. Tyvokka didn't even have time to do more than widen his eyes before the second thing happened. The ship careened into solid ground and slid along it, ripping up rocks, trees and soil with an almighty crunch. After many frenzied seconds, the ship ground to a halt. Steam rose from the ship with a great hiss, accompanied by a sparking sound, followed by an entirely different hiss. Tyvokka was fairly sure what the second hiss meant, but greatly hoped otherwise. On the bright side he didn't seem to be dead, or even unconscious. He was at an angle though, about twenty degrees by his estimate. He hauled himself out of the pilot's seat, smashed his hand through one of the dashboards and pulled out the ship's homing beacon. The beacon's internal battery had enough power to outlive him; he pocketed it in his cloak. He stumbled to the door. He stopped briefly in the engine room to confirm the cause of the hiss.

As he suspected, the hyperdrive had melted into a single twisted mass. His next stop was the supplies hold, which he raided of everything he could carry. Packing his haul into a backpack and two suitcases, he scoured the crew and passenger quarters for anything useful before kicking the mangled airlock door out of it's frame and jumped down onto the terrain below. He seemed to be in a forest of some kind – albeit a forest that now had a large gouge-mark in it. The air was filled with birdsong and the occasional calls of other creatures, none of which he recognised.

He considered calling out in case anyone was nearby, but thought better of it; the last thing he wanted was to attract predators. Picking a trunk, Tyvokka swiftly climbed up and inspected the area. The forest was rather dense, most of the trees hundreds of metres tall with branches spanning and interlocking, creating a dense canopy. Except for the massive hole the ship had ploughed, at least. Even so, his ship wasn't even on the actual ground, it was lying on an under-canopy of savaged trees that seemed to extend much further down. If he had to take a guess, he suspected that the forest was at least five hundred metres high – possibly higher.

The branches and leaves were so heavily interlocked that he felt confident they would hold his weight, like 'floors' constructed from plant growth, with soil, smaller plants and rocks packing on top. Gingerly, Tyvokka placed one of his feet on the 'floor' below. Indeed it held, even when he shifted his full weight and eventually his other foot onto it. He could see gaps here and there which should allow him to climb down, or up if he wished. Up would be easier, seeing as his ship had smashed a great chasm in the canopy.

'Hmm, more likely chance of finding life nearer the sunlight,' he thought. He unsheathed his claws and began to clamber up the branches. In spite of his situation, he felt a small smile creeping onto his face – it was good to be back among the trees again. If there was one thing he missed about Kashyyyk, it was the dense forests. He did not get far however, before a great rumbling sounded. Pulling himself onto the sturdiest branch in view, he crouched low and looked down at the sound.

The branches were moving, wrapping around the cruiser, ensnaring it. When they had the ship fully in their grasp, the branches squeezed – crushing it like a paper cup.

'Well shit.'

The forest made no attempt to attack him however, he could only suppose that they reacted to perceived threats.

'That might make finding food an issue,' he thought, hoping that there were some animals or plants that would not try to kill him for trying to eat them. He resumed his climb, stopping only when he arrived at a level that looked vaguely promising with regards to a society. A wet shape, painted on one of the trunks. Hopefully a civilisation, as opposed to an animal marking it's territory.

Stepping onto the canopy floor, he straightened up and sheathed his claws. He took one look back at the gorge in the forest below. It was already smaller than it should be – the ship's mangled remains were completely buried under branches now. The forest was already regrowing.

No going back now. He strode off across the canopy, away from the crash site.

[The Council Of First Knowledge Chamber]

"Enough!" called Zourvux. Sure enough the clamour died down, albeit reluctantly. "Civility please; one at a time," She turned to Yoda, "Yoda?"

"Unorthodox, The Dark Woman assuredly is. Yet a Jedi, she still is. My trust, I would place in her – with observation," he said.

Zourvux then turned to Bolla, "Bolla?"

Bolla sniffed, "That woman is a perversion of our very beliefs; to allow her to take a padawan is one thing, but teaching younglings? The thought sickens me."

Zourvux turned to Du Mahn, "Du?"

Du fiddled with her shawl for a moment before speaking, "I think she is not cruel, but I do feel she is more damaging than she means. I do not think she should be allowed to be an instructor; the greatest harm is often wrought through the best intentions."

Zourvux turned to the other side of her chair and addressed Even, "Even?"

"I admit, she is a risky choice, but we need an unarmed combat specialist and like it or not The Dark Woman is a capable Jedi with wisdom to impart. Not ideal, but she's all we have."

"Halsey?"

"She's certainly qualified; and she has been a good friend to me over the years... Impartially however, I am unsure if she would make a good teacher or not."

"Jocasta?"

"A Jedi is a Jedi. No matter how unorthodox. I trust her."

"Tera?"

Master Tera Sinube, the Keeper of Records scratched his beak, thinking. Then he answered, "She gets a great deal of criticism – much of it I feel unwarranted. Yes, her methods are somewhat extreme but you cannot refute her results. She knows what she's doing and she knows what will be expected of her."

"Must I bring up her failure?" cut in Vokara Che, Chief Healer, with absolute venom, "It was a fairly critical failure-"

"Vokara," said Zourvux, sternly. Vokara scowled but fell silent. Zourvux continued as if there had been no interruption. "Loton?"

"I don't like her, she is a walking violation of the code," Loton said stiffly, "And that's all I have to say."

"L'lacielo?"

L'lacielo Sageon, the aged Quartermaster replied without hesitation, "She's a good choice. Life is hard and she is very well adept at preparing students for that fact."

"Micah?"

"I do not feel I can trust her, whether she is qualified or not. I cannot recommend someone I cannot trust."

"Sora?"

Sora sighed sadly, "I believe she truly does follow the Jedi code and the good path. However, I am still concerned. Good intent or not, her teachings have backfired in the past and her teaching methods are... unsavoury. I am simply unsure I feel comfortable allowing her around children."

"Vokara? And please keep it civil."

"Reprehensible bitch," growled Vokara with crossed arms.

"Well, I tried. And Kossex?"

Master Kossex, Head of the Starfighter Corps, tented her taught fingers before she delivered her verdict, "She unsettles me, I will admit, but I do trust her. I do not believe she would pose a danger to the younglings."

"You never saw some of the injuries I've patched up on her apprentices," said Vokara sourly.

Zourvux caressed her chin thinking.

"You have a solution?" asked Loton.

"Maybe. I'm not sure y-"

She was interrupted by an urgent light flashing on her armrest. She pressed it and the figure of Master Miro Daroon, a senior tech supervisor and instructor, was projected in the centre of the room.

"Masters! I have received a transmission from Master Ilena Xan. Given the nature of your meeting, I felt you would appreciate the iriaz' mouth for this. Apologies for the interruption."

Everyone stared at the hologram.

Bolla recovered first.

"Yes, thank you Master Daroon. Put her on please."

The stocky image of a green skinned Reptilian Felucian burst into being in place of the now vanished Master Daroon. This particular Reptilian Felucian was standing on a pile of dead saurian animals – and was currently wrestling with one that was still alive. The figure wore grey Jedi robes and had the hilt of a lightsaber at her belt. This was Jedi Master Ilena Xan.

"Sorry about the state of conversation," she said, "But these things don't understand decorum."

The creature snapped at her with its jaws, prompting her to ram her thick fist down its throat.

"Don't worry," she said tersely, "I noticed that if you stuffed something down their throats, they can't close their mouths properly."

As if to prove her point, she lifted the creature – now hanging helplessly by the mouth off her arm and waved it around. Then she slammed her chunky fist – and by extension the creature's head – into the ground hard. The creature stopped moving. Master Xan straightened up.

"I'm on Igia, folks; pick up would be appreciated. And an explanation as to why I didn't land on Abregado-rae like I was supposed to."

"There was a mass hyperdrive sabotage," said Zourvux, "We'll send a shuttle."

"Cheers," replied Xan, "Feel free to take your time – I got plenty to keep me company here."

As if to illustrate her point, a massive saurian biped, the size of a small house, with two thick legs, two stubby arms and a large mouth-full of teeth loomed into view on the hologram and snapped at Xan. She hopped backwards, then brought her fist square into the creature's nose. It recoiled in pain as Xan leapt up, propelling herself with the force and drove her foot down onto the top of the creature's head. It roared in pain and thrashed around as Xan held on by its teeth and slammed her considerable ham-fist repeatedly into the reptile's face.

"See you when my shuttle arrives, my homing beacon has been activated. Master Xan out – I gotta concentrate. Oh and send a recording of this fight to my students with instructions to make notes on how to deal with large predators, please."

Then the transmission cut off.

"Well that takes care of the long term," said Zourvux, "but we still need a stand in until Ilena gets back. How about a compromise. The Dark Woman teaches via hologram under supervision until Ilena returns?" There was a general murmur of begrudging concession from the sceptics.

"Fine. But who will monitor?" said Loton, pursing his lips.

Zourvux grinned, "T'Un."

"That puritan?" asked Bolla, leaning forward.

"The very same," she replied, her grin growing wicked, "All in favour?"

[Masters' Quarters, the Ouran]

Stass was waiting outside Adi's office for her to finish speaking with Padawan Tachi.

What did Adi even see in that girl anyway?

She shook herself.

She did not like those thoughts.

Padawan Allie, Stass turned to see Master Roron Corobb striding down the passageway. So sorry for the abruptness, but you have an urgent meeting with your Master, Master Norcuna and Padawan Kolar. You were supposed to be told earlier, but the hyperspace mess got in the way.

"Er, but I need to-"

I'm sorry Padawan Allie, but the meeting is both imminent and urgent. You must go now. You have a mission.

Her heart sank.

Don't worry, said Master Corobb, Whatever your business with Master Gallia, she will surely be available later. I must escort you to the briefing room.

"Yes, Master Corobb," Stass said dejectedly – or maybe pouted would be a better descriptive.

They both turned and walked down the passageway. When they reached the door however, they found the way blocked by a rather sour looking Master Shaak Ti.

Shaak! exclaimed Master Corobb, It's so good to see you back! I hope the hyperspace mess didn't cause too many problems.

Beside Master Ti, her padawan – a Geonosian girl who Stass didn't know – seemed beyond fuming. Master Ti herself just gazed right into Master Corobb's eyes for just enough time for him to realise he had not said something that was well received.

"You will not believe the day we've been having!"