Chapter 20: A Lesson With Master Reivzx

Adi Gallia, twenty-two year old Jedi knight, flew through space. She was awaiting a rendezvous from a contact and had opted to pass the time, as usual, joyriding. Pity Saesee wasn't here – they could have had a mock dogfight. Her craft was an oldie but a goldie; a Kuat Drive Yards A-6 Interceptor. A fine vehicle, so much so that she would be sad when she had to give it back. She spun and jetted and generally had as much fun as she could. What was the use in having one of these babies if she couldn't use it?

Sadly, she was pulled from her indulgence by an insistent beeping on her dashboard. Emergency communication? Odd. Wasting no time, she put the caller through. In retrospect, she could safely say she did not see this coming. Ever.

The azure spectre of her aunt's husband, of all people, burst into view. He was not a welcome sight. Uehara Allie: Jenso – a member of the highest body in the court – of Aishintu, one of the nations of Tholoth. Also secretly one of the four overseers of the Genoharadan, a highly secretive organisation of assassins. Unsurprisingly, Adi didn't exactly make a point of calling on this particular part of the family.

"… Uehara." Adi's eyes narrowed a hair, her midnight blue orbs studying him. For the first time in her knowledge, he looked vulnerable, aghast, even. "Wasn't I clear enough last time? I want nothing to do with you, Aeris, or your little club."

"I know, Adi, but I didn't know where else to turn. It's Stass." Even as he spoke, he didn't seem right. He was shaken to his core, his usual stern discipline gone. Her interest was admittedly piqued, as much as she hated to admit it.

"Stass? Your daughter, the sensitive one?"

"Yes," he replied very curtly indeed, wasting absolutely no time. "I need you to take her – into The Order."

Adi could only frown.

"I thought you'd decided against giving her to us? What changed?"

"Aeris," he said, his features gaunt now. Something was terribly wrong indeed. "You… aren't going to like hearing this…"

His visage swam. The ship around her swam. Rippling like a disturbed pond, building, getting more vigorous, her surroundings lapping against her. Uehara's speech warped with it, garbling and warbling. She was adrift, underwater. The cockpit washing away to diffuse into the sea. Adi felt herself rising, light from the surface dancing over her as she did.

And then she broke the surface.

Her eyes fluttered apart, her room coming back to her. Stass, Saesee, the dark presence, it all floated to the forefront of her mind.

"Welcome back." She tilted her head to the side, seeing Saesee sitting beside her on the bed, cross-legged and with his hands in his lap. His head was bowed and his eyes closed – his usual meditative position. "Stass is safe. The others are too. The presence we sensed was Darth Phobos. She's gone now; slunk back under her rock. How do you feel?"

Adi gave a weary yawn and sighed, sitting up to assume a position similar to his.

"Like a Master Sage just put me under for a day. Oh, wait." She gave a small smile. All forgiven. Words were unnecessary, their bond filling in the rest even if they didn't know each other like the back of their hands. "Sorry about freaking out."

"Likewise. Many apologies about having to stop you so abruptly. Hopefully, the booster I added should have you recovered in a few minutes."

She leant slightly sideways, bumping shoulders with him. Already, she could feel it – he had indeed given her a little buff. It was beginning to take effect, the fatigue lifting, falling away slowly.

"Thanks."

He offered a wry smile back.

"Any time, Adi. Any time."

[Master Reivzx's classroom, the Halls of Learning, The Ouran]

Master Zourvux Reivx hung her scarlet cloak over the back of her chair. Younglings were filing in and taking their seats. The Mirialan head of teaching usually specialised in linguistics and history, but today was something quite different, something that had to be done each year. Each year, lots were drawn and this time it was her who The Force had deserted. To cap it all off, The Dark Woman was supposed to be arriving on board The Ouran any time today. She was supposed to meet her, but she had decided to arrive on an inopportune day to say the least. Zourvux gave a sigh, sending a quick message to her informing her that she probably wasn't going to be able to greet her.

She could only hope nobody started a fight, though Vokara was busy instructing on healing all day, so at least that was the most obvious risk factor out of the way. After a good rolling up of the sleeves of her black dress and a fair smoothing back her brunette nest, she took her seat, her posture immaculate, and spoke.

"Brig, attendance please?"

"Certainly, Master Reivzx," the cool, synthetic tones answered, "All present."

"Lovely. Let's begin, shall we class?" Her voice cut like a knife, killing all conversation. Polite, but loaded with enough authority and earned respect to quell them all.

"Now, today will be an irregular lesson," said Zourvux, "You'll be having your test on the Huttese irregulars tomorrow. Instead, today, you shall be learning about an important part of yourselves-"

"Master Reivzx," interjected Brig, "The Dark Woman's shuttle is approaching." Zourvux froze. Slowly, almost with an ominous creaking, her head turned to look at the wall input for Brig – a rather nicely stylised teardrop shape with a circular monitor and touchpad. Immediately, the entire class dissolved into avid chatter, as was the standard case when anybody even half as controversial as The Dark Woman was brought up. Instant calamity. Zourvux could only groan.

"And why, Brig, did you need to announce that to the whole class?" she asked, woefully.

"Because you arranged a high priority reminder at 13:56 yesterday for me inform you when The Dark Woman was imminent." It was curt, unflattering and left her with nobody to blame but herself. Zourvux pinched the bridge of her nose, standing up.

"Thank you, Brig. Thank you.~" She took an extra-large swig from her mug and strode around the desk, gently leaning against it and facing the class. "Alright, that's quite enough, settle down, class, settle down."

She had absolutely no effect. The new, hot topic of The Dark Woman was more than enough to keep twenty-something twelve-year-olds thoroughly distracted from anything their teacher could do to restore order.

Zourvux waited for ten seconds.

"Last warning."

The children did not heed her. Her eyes narrowed. Master Zourvux Reivzx had seen many, many years of students pass through her tuition in her time. One thing she did not tolerate for long was a complete disrespect for authority such as this. Enough. Time to lay down the law with thick boots.

And so, it was without a shred of remorse, pity or mercy, that she turned to the holoboard, took a stylus and began writing across it. In fact, she wrote with venom, brutality and cold hard righteousness. As she did, several students caught sight. Those that did, seeing the words being written out in front of them with slow, creeping, dawning comprehension. Horror setting in. Slowly, as Zourvux etched more and more into writing, the news spread. Terror and panic were spreading now. The chatter dwindling and slowly having the life choked out of it as each student in turn was laid low and ceased their insolence. Finally, the room was silent, save for Zourvux finishing the title for today's subject with unadulterated, transparent supremacy.

She turned around, a malevolent smirk adorning her face as she jabbed the stylus one final time under the heading, whipping it across and underlining what she'd written in terrible, ominous bold:

Sentient Reproduction Education

"Let's talk about sex!" she began.

[Tethese Special Forces Command, Tethese, Teth]

"…And with no ability to mount any form of proof, we can't pursue the Sith," Doćo summarised, "That said, given how badly this went for them, it's doubtful they will try again any time soon. With that in mind, I am closing the investigation. I would like to thank the Jedi for their assistance." He curtly nodded to Norcuna. The five of them were herded around the console in the communications room. The Blue shadows of Masters Tiin, Gallia and Lev'Loa floated before them, listening. "If we do pick up any suspicious activity, we will not hesitate to call, however."

"Obliged, Primary Colonel," Saesee replied, "Masters, padawans, you are to return home immediately and all of you are having sessions with Master Lev'Loa. No exceptions." He meaningfully shot a look at Stass, here. "You cannot just stab trauma to make it go away."

The four Jedi – Stass, Agen, Coleman and Norcuna – nodded back in unison.

"Understood," added Norcuna, "I'll have the report finished by the time we arrive. Have a good day with the younglings." He let loose a small chuckle. "Who drew the short straw, for that matter?"

Adi smirked.

"Oh you're gonna love this."

Those passing by the comms room would have been rather surprised by the sudden barrage of guffawing from within. Inside, Doćo could only goggle at the sight of seven Jedi, three holographic, doubled over and laughing their assorted heads off.

[Ziost]

Lord Githany was cackling. Rather akin to a child who'd just seen a friend land themselves in an embarrassing situation. She lay on the recliner, watching with glee as Phobos irritably recited what had happened.

"Well, well, well," she gloated, shovelling fruit into her mouth. "Dash gotta shting. Rrike, dang." She gave a large swallow, and continued. "Your biggest doorway in turns into the mother of all bear traps. HA!"

Phobos only scowled. Ruin, on the other hand, had much more to say.

"I, for one, did very well. The boy I contacted was not exactly very receptive, but I believe our talk served as a decent degree of illumination. It will take time, but I think he shall be worth the investment."

"Speaking of investment," Darth Malak interjected, turning to glance at Darth Occlus. "Any word from Sorrus?"

"Just about set up," came the short reply in Occlus's usual reverberating, gleeful tones. "Looking for good test subjects, as it happens. We'll hear more when they find some. Oh, I can't wait for the results!"

Ruin gave a rather pointed sniff, prompting Githany to roll her eyes.

"Yes, yes, we know you think it's pointless, Ruin. You got outvoted. Get over it."

Grumbling, Ruin did not answer, prompting a chuckle from Phobos. A chuckle that turned into a whine of pain. She rubbed the bandages over her belly irritably before remembering she wasn't supposed to do that.

"Okay, so the Allie girl gets a file update with a threat classification," she said, grimacing.

"If you really want to have it on official record that you nearly got gutted by a damaged kid, then fine." Githany's smirk grew wider.

"One thing I don't get, though," continued Phobos, pointedly ignoring Githany. "Is who blew up that hangar."

"That wasn't either of you?" Malak stiffened, interested, as he asked. Even Githany straightened up, paying proper attention.

"If I had been trying to kill them, they would have all died in their sleep," Phobos replied, curtly, somewhat affronted. "I leave brutal inelegance to you two chucklefucks. Show some respect."

"And frankly, I was not going to eliminate a potential convert in the Ongree. No, this was someone else – someone targeting them specifically. Presumably, in their investigation of us, the Jedi happened upon some other foe. Or the foe happened upon them."

Occlus only laughed, the reverberation echoing throughout the chamber.

"Well, a problem for the Jedi is good spectator sport for us. I'll see if Belia can get us a look in on that – might be interesting!"

[The Masters' Decks, The Ouran]

"You're doing well, Shaak – a little rattled, but otherwise I am very pleased," Master Halsey Lev'Loa concluded. He and Shaak Ti were both in his office, him at his desk and her in a very comfy armchair. The session had been short, but he was satisfied. "Same time next week?"

She nodded, hands interlaced over her knee. Standing up, she stretched.

"Honestly, some days I just feel like I'm mere inches away from losing my mind and constructing an elaborate plan to kill The Force."

Halsey gave her a stern look.

"Not funny, Shaak." His mouth twitched. And again. Hers did, too.

…

"Okay, it was a bit funny," he sniggered out. "Anyway, see you soon."

"Of course, and thanks again," she replied, heading to the door.

"Literally my job," he called back. He saved his notes, before triple encrypting Shaak's file and scrolled across to his next due patient – Padawan Siri Tachi, due in a minute or two. She had missed all previous appointments. He waited.

Five minutes on, he was still waiting. Ten minutes. Fifteen. He finally gave up. Siri wasn't coming. With a groan, he picked his communicator up and dialled Adi's number.

Enough was enough.

[Training Decks]

The smell of burning accompanied the hum. Half of a mannequin hit the training mat with a light thud. As usual, Bruck was practising. As usual, he was doing poorly. He even knew it. Feet all over the place, terrible balance and his last slash was supposed to be a disarming move, not a bisection. Furious at himself, he spun and swung at another, decapitating it. His third target never got hit. A fumble of the legs and the albino found himself careening over, weapon rolling away. With a growl, he drove his fist hard into the mat, before looking round for where the lightsaber had gone.

"That was… better." Watching him somewhat anxiously was Bant. "Are you okay?"

Bruck grunted harshly, snatching up the hilt and getting up.

"No it wasn't and yes, I am." He took a long breath in, held it for a moment, then let it go. Igniting his weapon again, he readied himself.

"You don't look okay," she commented, pointedly glancing at the red mark on his forehead. He ignored her, taking his next swipe. He missed entirely – too much swing, not enough forward.

"I'm fine." He'd told bigger lies before. His follow up was alright but the third strike was far too aggressive. It had him stumbling forward trying to correct his footing. He crashed into the dummy, bouncing off it and hitting the floor for the umpteenth time today. In a second, he was up, raining more clumsy slashes. He was actually getting worse the longer he kept at it. Over the past day or two, his technique had gone from fairly subpar to frankly embarrassing.

"Maybe you should take a break, Bruck," Bant suggested with a slightly pleading tone. She probably would have had better luck establishing communication with a gundark.

"Leave. Me. Alone!" He snapped, punctuating each word with a hack at his target, leaving smouldering gouges in it. Bant could only watch him sadly, with a small shake of the head. Giving up, she turned and left, only offering a single line over her shoulder.

"Don't hurt yourself, okay?"

Left alone in the small training room, the Echani boy kept at it. Badly. More fumbles and stumbles, more misses, more wild missteps. With a frustrated cry, he finally just up and punched the dummy. In blind fury, Bruck grappled it, driving his fist into its side over and over until he was red in the face.

A sob. He buried it with more blows. Another sob, answered with his knuckles again, driving into the padding. A third. Fourth. Fifth, sixth, seventh. The dam broke. Bruck's head dropped, his whole body folding in and collapsing against the dummy, sobbing into its shoulder. Shaking from head to toe, he clutched onto the foam tight. He could feel himself falling off the event horizon. A failure, worthless. What would his parents say?

… Was this…? What would it feel like to hug Ob- NO! FUCKNOFUCKITKRIFFNO!HEDIDN'THEWASN'T!

With a strangled roar, the boy hefted the dummy, throwing it over head and hard onto the soft mat. As it clattered across the training room, Bruck sank to his knees, crying freely. Ugly, choking heavy sobs. He fell forwards onto his hands. On all fours, he watched his own tears dripping into the padding, staining the fabric.

He was so pathetic.

Disgusting.

A foot stepped into his view. Oh. Someone was standing in front of him.

"I can help you."

[The Jedi Archives]

"Is she still in here?" asked the gentle voice of Qui-Gon Jinn. He was addressing Chief Librarian Jocasta Nu, having quietly taken her aside into one of the archives' many little cloisters. Jocasta gave a weary groan.

"Unfortunately, yes. She sleeps often, in here, but judging by smell, I think she at least leaves to clean herself and relieve herself. Otherwise, however… eh." She gestured towards the south wing. Qui-Gon nodded in thanks, before winding between the shelves.

After some searching (and getting lost once or twice) he finally found his quarry. Master Tahl was, as always, ensconced in a small alcove. She sat at a table piled high with datapads, manuscripts, rolls of parchment, datasheets and all sorts of tat. The woman herself had her head dipped, hands scanning across the reproduction of what looked like an etching, in place of her dead, glassy eyes. She mumbled aloud to the short, stocky droid that stood next to her. Notes, by the sound of it. The droid hummed and warbled every now and then.

"Tahl," Qui-Gon began, with an air of resignation towards his old friend. "Can we talk?"

"Talk? Yes, by all means." She then addressed the droid without breaking stride. "The style is clearly reminiscent of late Sadow dynasty, but not quite old enough and with a fair few differences. There's syllabic elements here – logosyllabic, specifically." Pausing for breath, she switched back to Qui-Gon. "Go ahead, I'm listening." Qui-Gon gave a sigh, smoothening out his beard.

"Bant was asking about you."

"She was?" Tahl seemed taken aback, inclining her head slightly to the side. "That's strange. Silly girl, wasting her time like that. Can't imagine why." A pause. "Oh. Glyph Resh2468 is a verb. 'Settle' not 'Settler'. 2J, replace the translation with a note, please."

"Done, sir," the droid, 2JTJ, answered merrily.

"… You aren't going to see her?" Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow. "I think she at least deserves an explanation – you never told her why you gave her up, after all."

"Oh please, it's obvious," Tahl replied absent-mindedly, "She certainly didn't need to be told and drawing it out wasn't going to help. Hmm… harmonics? Harmonic/disharmonic? Interesting. 2J, can you run a search for any instances of harmonic and disharmonic echo vowels appearing in Massassi texts, please?"

"Certainly!" The droid chirped back, "Results pending within the hour."

"So… you are, what, going to stay shut away in here? You think that is more productive?" Exasperated, Qui-Gon knelt down next to the table, thinking to make eye contact. Only as he did it did he remember. Oh, yes. Blind. He still wasn't used to not seeing those amber feline orbs, it seemed. In their place was milky grey cloud. Would he ever get used to it?

"Well, the mystery of Yavin IV won't solve itself, will it?" She chuckled back. Qui-Gon could only groan. This clearly wasn't working at all. How to penetrate this thick cranium? This was fast becoming an exercise in beating his own head against a ferrocrete wall.

"Tahl… do you really think this is healthy?" he asked, in earnest, trying to fight through the sheer futility. Tahl was having none of it, however.

"Relax, Qui-Gon. I'm perfectly fine – you worry too much." Another laugh. He gave a small, almost soft little sigh.

"I miss you." Standing, he took a small container from his pocket and set it down on the table in an empty space. It smelled nice – something very edible lay within.

"Well, I've got to go find Obi-Wan for a sparring session. I sense he's down on the catwalks. Don't forget to eat."

[Master Reivzx's classroom]

Almost an hour of descriptions, diagrams and a fair amount of infection symptoms later, Zourvux had the entire class thoroughly spooked. Probably a little too spooked, she mused. Better fix that.

"So, class, are you still paying attention?"

They were, as one would a horror show that they just couldn't bear to look away from. She rolled her eyes.

"Look, I'm going to level with you – all hyperbole aside. In absolutely no way am I interested in scaring you all straight. You're kids. We know that – and we are fully aware that in the coming years you are going to experiment and try all sorts of things. As far as we are concerned, we are frankly in no mood to stop you. It would be patently futile. What we do find worthwhile, however, is enabling you to do so in as safe and informed a manner as possible. With that in mind, if any of you want any information or clarity on any of the topics from today's lesson or future lessons, your Clanmasters, myself, and our entire circle of healers have an open-door policy. Come find us, ask away and at no point should you ever feel ashamed to and nobody has a right to make any of you feel ashamed."

Checking the time, she decided to round things off for today.

"As far as official policy goes, opinions are mixed amongst the order. Currently, relationships are technically forbidden by the council, however it is also not permitted to inquire or investigate individuals as to whether they are in one. Quite simply, don't shout about it and the council will say no more about it. I suppose I could say what I think of this policy, but, well, that would be unprofessional." Zourvux waited a moment for her final speech to sink in, letting them fully understand what had been said. Then, it was time to let them go.

"Right, class dismissed - next week we'll be going into further detail on the particulars of consent. Have a good day!"

She took her seat, flitting through her datapad and pulling up some forms to sign. Nothing particularly urgent. Now, time to go and see what trouble The Dark Woman had probably managed to start by virtue of being on board. Hopefully none, but somehow, she was sceptical.

[The Room Of A Thousand Fountains]

"Siri?"

The blonde girl looked up sharply, scattering her long locks around in a whirl. Oh, it was just Obi. She sat on the side of the walkway, near the door, legs hanging over the side.

"Hey, Obi," she muttered as he sat down next to her.

The walkway was one of many high up in the Room Of A Thousand Fountains, spanning the cavern. Other walkways crisscrossed above and below and also on either side of theirs. The view down was picturesque – each of the tiered platforms overgrown with foliage. Thin streams of water flowed along each of the platforms, dropping down to lower ones and finally to the floor level. From this angle, one could see how all the hanging gardens overlapped and follow all the paths of the little streams, but also appreciate the magnificent waterfall at the very bottom.

It was a nice spot to reflect. Or to hide. Which she totally wasn't doing. Not at all. Hopefully he wouldn't ask-

"What's up?"

Well, kriff that.

"Not much, really."

He cocked his head, oddly, padawan braid swaying.

"You're avoiding someone." It was not a question. Abashed, she nodded.

"Yeah. Master."

"Master Gallia? Why?"

"Well…" She fiddled with her sleeve absentmindedly. "I've sort of… not been going to therapy. And um. She's noticed."

Obi groaned. It was a rather long, drawn out one that made her feel really quite guilty.

"Siri… we got caught in a battle. A war. Short, yes, but." He pinched his nose. "Look, after Melida/Daan, I spent an hour every day talking to Master Lev'Loa. It wasn't an easy fix, but it helped. Please don't do this to yourself, much less to the rest of us." He laid a hand on her shoulder, tentatively. "You are our friend." He gave her one of his shiteating grins – she knew the one, when he knows he's right and he's about to rub it in her face but she totally deserves it and they both know it, the bastard. Cute bastard. At least he didn't have a beard, that would just make the picture so much smugger and so much worse. "Do you care so little for us?"

She snorted. Damn him and being insufferably right. Using her own words against her, too – how had he remembered that? That was, what, last week!

"Have I ever said I hate it when you're right?" Unconsciously, she gave his hand a nuzzle with her chin, before realising what she was doing and stopping herself. Best not make this awkward.

He opened his mouth to reply, but never got the chance.

"Obi-Wan?"

Looking up, the pair saw Qui-Gon and Adi standing at the doorway. Adi had her hands on her hips. She addressed Siri in a tone that practically dripped displeasure.

"I am very unhappy with you, young lady. Halsey tells me you have yet to show up to any of your appointments."

Siri could only nervously laugh, getting up quickly.

"Um yeah, sorry!" She should probably stop rubbing the back of her head like a complete idiot.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon put himself between Obi and the other two, lowering his voice. He had, however, seemingly underestimated this move – Siri could still hear him. "I think we should talk. About you and Siri." He didn't give Obi a chance to speak, holding up a hand and continuing. "I do not think it is the best interests of either of you for what is clearly brewing between you to continue. I know it might seem harsh, but I have, myself, years of experience in these matter and-"

"Yes, because you and Tahl are a model of interpersonal interaction," Obi cut across, almost bitterly. It was maybe a cheap shot. But then again, Qui-Gon had shot first. The older man stopped dead, speechless for a moment, but only a moment.

"… We should talk more after sparring."

"Evidently," Obi said, curtly.

"Qui-Gon." One look at Adi told Siri that she had also heard every word. "I know you do not agree with the council on many occasions, but there are certain policies you are expected to at least respect if you intend to remain counted among our ranks." Her midnight eyes practically bored into his. New to the council or not, she exuded sheer authority in that moment. "Have I made myself perfectly clear?"

Qui-Gon only made a small, throaty noise, nodding exactly once.

Turning, Adi put a hand around Siri's shoulders and began to lead her off the catwalk. Don't smirk, Siri. Don't smirk- wait … what?

Everything was cold. Something was-

She span back around, Adi picking up on it and doing the same.

Qui-Gon had a large frown on his face, kneeling down with a hand to the floor of the walkway. Time almost slowed to a crawl for Siri. The look of dawning horror on Qui-Gon's face. His palm went out, the Force sending Obi reeling back along the catwalk. A flash of light. Flames. Then all she saw was the green of Adi's tunic as her master tackled her to protect her from the blast. It was over quickly. Looking up, Siri saw Obi flat on his front and staring at the smoking cavity he and Qui-Gon had been standing on not a second ago.

Wait, where was Qui-Gon?

She had her answer almost at once: there he was, a blur trailing smoke and plummeting down like a stone, past the flowing waterfall, below the web of walkways-

-and into the chasm below.