Changing of the Guard

[Drin Kizael]

Drin Kizael sat in meditation in cargo bay 1 of the Whaledon, legs folded under him to support his weight on his haunches, hands resting on his knees.

It was a position he could not have taken with much confidence before the Alliance brought clothes that fit him properly. Donning the beige shirt, green vest, and looser fitting brown pants made him start to feel a little more like a Jedi again. The black sleeves and cuffs were a nice touch, but the absence of a lightsabre clipped to the matching black belt felt awkward, almost like he should be walking with a limp to compensate.

Weeks before, the Jedi gathered in this room to discuss their future in the wake of an Imperial attack, making it the ideal place to work through the questions that had been clouding his mind ever since.

By this point, though, he was no longer wrestling with doubt. Today he was preparing himself for the long day ahead. Daria Nytherciria and Navaria Tarkin reported in early that morning, and would be landing in a few hours. The time had come to lay the question of the Jedi's leadership to rest.

The trianii pushed off the floor with his hands, clearly enjoying the return of his flexibility as he straightened his legs under him.

Okay, first things first. He closed his eyes, reaching with his senses out through the Force, sifting through the many auras on the ship in search of a more familiar presence.

His eyes gently opened as he found her, and without further ceremony walked casually toward Tionne Thanewulf's quarters.

[Tionne Thanewulf]

Through the most of the past night, Thanewulf remained awake, sipping coffee over a pile of datapads. For somebody who just missed twenty five years of life, there was much to catch up on; history, events, technology, even death certificates to see who of the branched social network was out of the loop. Using the peace and quiet of the night, Tionne read on about the Empire, stock prices, figures and facts of economic growth in Imperial times, trying to divulge what exactly did the Imperial overturn do to the galaxy, beside de facto extermination of the Jedi. A number of sources indicated that prosperity indeed did rise in the first years of Imperial reign - mostly due to post-war reparations - but progress stagnated in the years to come.

Just an hour or so before what could be considered dawn, tired and mentally overloaded, the redhead limped over to the common bathroom at the end of the corridor. Upon unclothing herself, she entered the shower capsule and let cold water pour down her body for a while. Leaning forwards on her elbows, the Knight pressed her forehead against the cold metallic padding, cool fluid streaming down her back. An attempt was made to clear her thoughts, center oneself in the Force and release the sensory tension that built up in her temples, pulsating like a quasar. Slowly, stress dissipated; Tionne turned the tap and set the temperature to lukewarm, cleansing her body and hair with lime-scented shower gel bought off Wroonian merchants on The Valiant.

Just as water was sizzling in the pot, another cup was retrieved from the cupboard and placed beside Tionne's cup; Kizael's signature could have been felt from a parsec away. Two teabags containing the finest Manellan Jasper (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Manellan_Jasper) were tossed into each mug, when a knock against durasteel plating indicated the Trianii Jedi was just where she suspected him to be; right before her cabin.
A button was pressed and the door slid open, its frame narrower than the feline's shoulders. Clad in long, loose fitting white pants and a white tank top, still wet hair dripping down her back, she smiled candidly.
''Come in, Master Kizael.'' the redhead invited, returning to the improvised stove and motioning him to enter - ''Would you like some tea?''

[Drin Kizael]

Kizael opened his mouth to reply, but just blinked and smiled crookedly. Tionne had a penchant for abrupt greetings.

He attributed it to so much time in the field, where sensing the presence at one's door became a reflex after enough time. It was a habit he picked up himself having lived so many years on the run with a little one to protect, though he had learned to practice a bit more restraint when the door actually opened. Restraint was not what he'd call her strongest suit.

"Thank you, Tio," the trianii chuckled. "I would like some at that."

He stepped inside and took a seat across from her bunk. Though it wasn't their first meeting since arriving on board, it almost felt like it. Kizael had been distant in those first weeks. Adjusting to the quiet routine -- such as it was -- after a full decade surrounded by ever present tension was more effort than he expected. And so it was nice to just sit for awhile and chat.

Mostly they talked about how different things were. It was a hard topic to avoid. The tone lightened between the Watchman and the Guardian, ironically when the topic shifted to war stories. Soon, though, Drin steered the conversation to the point of his visit.

"The reason I came to see you," Drin began as he set down his cup, "is because we need to talk about the nominations of the new Council... or whatever they're going to end up calling it."

He straightened his posture, letting the tone of his last words take a beat to register. "As you remember, your name was raised. And in light of your experience and unique education as a scientist, the nomination makes sense. Your skills and insight are quite diverse."

The felinoid cleared his throat. "Your comments at that meeting were a bit... puzzling. Understandable, in light of all you've been through -- what we've all been through. But perhaps not what the Jedi need from their leaders, right now."

Kizael held eye contact as she continued gently, "I believe your talents may be better focused in field work."

With anyone else, he may not have been so blunt, but the Jedi Master knew Tionne to be one who respected candor.

[Tionne Thanewulf]

Taking in the fine fragrances evaporating from her cup, Thanewulf intently listened to everything the Trianni Master had to say. Experience of direct combat in the Clone Wars was on his side, along with mastery of the Force and formidable swordsmanship. His opinion was invaluable to the redhaired Jedi, his advice the one she would take. After Kizael stated the obvious, Tionne simply smiled, then sipped the tea, glancing into her own reflection in the dark liquid.

''You know me well, Kizael.'' said the Knight, then established eye-contact once again - ''The Council seat is not mine to take. Nor will it ever be. I am a Watchman, wanderlust is in my blood.''
A spark flickered in her slate orbs in a rare moment of utmost sobriety. The Coruscanti rose from the bunk bed and traversed the short distance to where Drin sat; she then placed a hand on his shoulder - a gesture of trust and appreciation.

''But you, on the other hand, are fit to lead. Let me be your eyes and ears - eyes and ears of the Order - just like back in the day.'' the Knight pleaded sincerely, patting the Trianii's shoulder in encouragement.

[Drin Kizael]

"Thank you for saying so. I had one student who turned out alright, I suppose." He chuckled, as he was referring to his only student.

"No surprise you are a step ahead of me on your role in all this. Having a leading body managing Jedi affairs will require someone that we know we can trust to be point on certain missions. And for that, you are ideal."

"I have someone else in mind to be our eyes and ears among the other Jedi. An advocate, so to speak." Kizael leaned back a bit. "Out there, on the other hand," he said, gesturing toward the hull and the galaxy beyond, "I feel you are better suited to the task."

Kizael produced a rectangular, black comlink, which he pushed across the table. "I want you to keep this with you at all times. It is fitted with an encryption module designed by someone outside of the Alliance -- someone I trust implicitly."

He held up a matching link to illustrate. "Each of the senior ranking members of the Order will have one. This way we can communicate or have a holo meeting without risking Rebel security. And without fear of being compromised if the Empire intercepts a transmission with a known Rebel encryption key. I will periodically provide you with a new key which we'll all hard code into our own links."

[Tionne Thanewulf]

Thanewulf picked up the comlink, briefly inspecting it. During her time as Watchman in the Clone Wars, she was given one by the Council to debrief them on the intelligence she gathered.
''Now, where have I seen this before?'' she jested, spinning the transmitter on the table playfully - ''I never thought I would hold one of these again.''

The gadget was stashed away into the inner pocket of her jacket; her eyes drifted back to Drin's, freckled face delineating earnestness. Tionne was to be an agent of the Force, amalgamate herself with galactic conduits, integrate herself into the society. Unlike other Jedi, she had an amazing ability of mimicry, forging a social network spanning from the Core to the Outer Rim. She was to be the first Watchman from many to come, once the Order was restored.

''The Council can fully rely on me. As you can, Drin. I'm ready to serve, once again.'' the redhaired Jedi confirmed with a firm nod, drinking up the last of her tea. The end bit always tasted a bit more bitter.

[Drin Kizael]

"Excellent," Kizael said as he climbed to his feet. "We'll talk again once everything is finalized to set up comlink protocols and such. Thank you for the tea, Tio."

The door slid open and Kizael stepped out with a parting bow. He marched through the ship to his next stop, not needing the Force to guide him this time. As expected, he found the one he sought in one of the larger cargo holds that had been converted into a training hall.

Doubtless he was preparing for the day's classes with the initiates. Ironically, Kizael felt the boy was badly in need of training himself, in relaxation techniques far more than combat exercises.

"Abarai," the felinoid called out with a soft rapping of his claws on the metal door frame. "Tonight at 1900 hours I would like you to join me in the captain's conference room, on the bridge deck. Will you be free then?"

[Abarai Loki]

A screeching buzz came from the cargo hold where Loki was hunched over an upturned mass of twisted metal. He was putting the finishing touches on a rather makeshift weapons rack made from bits of old piping and pieces of scrap. In helping him make the first one, Cirrsseeto had instructed him in the proper usage of a welding torch and had given him a pair of safety gloves and tinted goggles from the Layla. Then there came the rapping of metal, he looked up and tore off his goggles, leaving a couple of large white circles on his sooty face. It was strange to be addressed solely by the name of his House but it was a welcome change. He stood immediately and offered the Trianni a full dignified bow.

"Master Drin Kizael, I will be there as you wish."

[Drin Kizael]

Well that was easier than he expected. Kizael considering a response for a moment, feeling as if there was more to say. But no, there was no sense in getting into details now that would be covered at the meeting later that night.

"Ah, excellent. We'll see you then."

And with that, the big trianii headed off to the ship's kitchen.

[Drin Kizael]

At first the need for a galley seemed too mundane to care about in the big picture. The entire population had led very self sufficient lives prior to joining the Wheel. But the bigger the population grew, the smaller the ship's lone kitchen seemed. And so it was that food was prepared by a handful of droids, and the odd initiate who thought they were being punished.

The appearance of the Jedi drew more than a few quizzical looks. As if he did not notice, Kizael greeted everyone as he walked in with casual grace and donned an apron. He quietly went about gathering foodstuffs, utensils, and a wok, then dropped a special package that he'd obtained in the Knightfall's last supply run on a cutting board.

After finally finding a wide enough space to get to work, he frowned at the servant droid standing in front of it looking at him stupidly. "Go do that somewhere else," he said with a shooing motion.

"Do you require assistance, Master Drin?" the droid asked with an odd hesitancy in his tone. Kizael made a clicking sound with his tongue and waved him away.

It went on like that for the next hour. The Jedi went about the act of preparing the meal with all the ritual of his morning kata -- cubed mastiff, actual fresh meat that he diced and seasoned himself, and vegetables in Jedi-diet-approved konif oil mixed with cooked rice. Each new smell reminded Drin of the few happy moments of his life after Palpatine and Vader turned the galaxy upside down.

At intervals, he would entrust a droid to stir the rice while he stepped away. That lasted until he came back to the sight of it reaching for a jar of gipanis spice, which prompted the big felinoid to recount in graphic detail how well versed he was in the destruction of cybernetic lifeforms.

From the flight plan he glimpsed, it was easy to predict that the two returning Jedi would be hungry after that long a stretch in hyperspace with only an MRE in the supply cabin. He also guessed Daria would welcome something normal given how space travel put her on edge.

He just hoped that Navaria still liked this dish as much as she used to. But he knew she wouldn't if this idiot machine ruined it with too much gipanis.

Tomorrow he would face some new danger, some new crisis in the war for the fate of the galaxy. Right now he needed one last reminder of something good from his past, so he could focus on the future.

Upon a signal from the Valiant that Navaria's ship was on approach, Kizael stepped in front of a wall unit comlink and keyed in a ship to ship call. The tiny hologram of the Jedi Master seated in the cockpit flickered to life in front of him.

"Welcome home," Kizael said with a smile. "Glad to see you both returned safely."

After a brief exchange, he added, "After you've had time to get changed and debriefed, I'd like you both to join me for dinner in the Captain's conference room on the bridge deck of the Whaledon."

He didn't even know if Navaria or Daria had ever even been up there. Few had, which was the point of choosing it for their meeting. But he was confident in the one-time navigator's ability to find her way around a transport ship.

[Daria Nytherciria]

“Dinner?”

It wasn't a strange request, in and of itself, but within the context of the here and now, Daria couldn't help but arch an eyebrow. For most of the Wheel, dinner was a hurried affair, whose sole purpose was to provide the participants with the necessary daily nutrients. Sitting down to eat, and in the company of others, was a rarity.

“I didn't know the Captain had a conference room,” she said, as the crossed the bridge deck to their meeting with Drin Kizael. Given the time to shed her travelling cloak and tunic, the Jedi Knight looked almost normal, at least by the standards of the Wheel. She wore a black tank-top, cargo pants and Alliance military issue boots. It was surplus, generously donated to compensate for the fact that she had spent over a decade on the run, with quite literally nothing but the robes on her back to wear.

The door to the Captain's conference room hissed open as the pair approached.

[Navaria Tarkin]

"I was not aware of it either," Navaria admitted as they approached their intended destination, but it was not a complete surprise. The Whaladon was massive and the Jedi master had yet to explore the entire vessel personally. Much faith was left to the Rebellion operatives that maintained the ship.

What was more pressing was Drin's invitation. The years had separated them but Navaria knew when he was up to something. This was one of those times but the nature of the gathering would be revealed shortly.

She was dressed comfortably in khaki pants, brown calf length boots, with a tunic and vest to match - the clothing were surplus from the army during their last forest campaign, minus the camouflaged poncho. As the pair entered the conference room, she noticed they were the first to arrive. It sparked a smile and she turned towards her companion. "It appears we're a bit early."

[Daria Nytherciria]

Daria took a moment to examine the room and familiarise herself with the layout, as it was visible to her through the Force. There was a long rectangular dining table, and for those who sat with their back to the doorway, there was a panoramic view of the stars. Daria perched on the edge of the table, her back to the window and her hands on the tabletop, taking some small comfort from the feeling of the wood-grain beneath her fingertips. She exhaled slowly, a barely audible contented sigh, and smiled.

“It would appear we are.”

[Navaria Tarkin]

Daria said nothing right away and moved towards the table as Navaria was curiously sensing for Drin. Nothing was overtly brewing in the Force, just the usual ebbs and flows of uncertainty that plagued the Wheel constantly were troubling. But there was nothing out of the ordinary.

She clasped her hands behind her back but then head moved towards a sound that brought back the smile that had disappeared in concentration. She alone was privy to that tone and boots were already closing the few meters between them. They had been away from the Wheel for two weeks in an attempt to appeal the Dathomir Witches for aide and possible numbers. It was a minor achievement but their combined perseverance made it difficult for several Elders to not concede and give blessings for their clanswomen to join the Jedi if they so choose.

There had been downtime as well, and in those scant moments, the two of them continued to grow closer - something the Jedi Master was surprised to notice, as she was surprised now by Daria's flirtatious behavior.

Not that she was complaining. No. There was a time and place for such matters and it was not for the public to gawk at.

She had yet to say anything, there was no need for everything was shared between them, as Navaria allowed herself to relax and bring a palm against Daria's face to caress when the Miraluka was within reach ...

[Drin Kizael]

The doors of the conference room slid open to the sight of a surprised looking gray servant droid pushing a hovercart. TC-8K90 swiveled between the table and the two Jedi, unable to decide the proper response for what it considered an intrusion.

"What's wrong," Drin's voice asked from out of sight. He walked forward, which finally prompted the droid to continue on inside. "Oh. That was quick. Please, sit, sit."

The felinoid walked around the table, setting down mats, plates, and flatware in front of the three chairs at the end of the long conference table, adding plastine cups from the hovercart with his tail. TC put a large serving tray in the middle, flinching at the steam that rolled out as it lifted the lid.

"Thank you, you can go now," Kizael said to the droid with a dismissive wave. He took a seat and smiled broadly.

[Daria Nytherciria]

The droid's arrival startled Daria and her hand darted up to close over Navaria's. With a stealth of movement that should not have been possible for a being of his size, Drin Kizael appeared and began to dress the table for dinner. He moved with cheerful efficiency and it was difficult for the Miraluka to say how many people he had laid out seating arrangements for. Affecting a coy smile, Daria lowered Navaria's hand to her side and laced their fingers together, out of sight, with a squeeze.

“Master Drin,” she acknowledged the Trianii Jedi with a nod. “Everything smells.. wonderful. I can't imagine how you were able to acquire all of the ingredients necessary to create such a.. feast.”

[Drin Kizael]

Kizael chuckled. "Well I had to make some hopefully not too unfortunate substitutions. But I have my ways. Oh, Roker Rhyed says hi."

He finished the last of the three place settings and gestured to each to them to sit.

[Daria Nytherciria]

The gesture went unnoticed by Daria, but at Navaria's encouragement the two of them took their seats. If she had been one to care about appearance, at that moment the Miraluka would have felt somewhat under-dressed for a sit-down meal. She laid her hands on the table in front of her, feeling the weave of the place mats and the polished curves of the cutlery. Then, she folded her hands together and looked between the two elder Jedi in expectant silence.

[Navaria Tarkin]

They were used to having little time for a moments peace for professional faces to unmask to be open around each other. It was a delicate balance of patience which either Jedi had become well versed in.

Navaria returned the squeeze before Drin appeared and hands fell back to their respected owners sides. "How is the crazy Bimm? Staying out of trouble I hope?"

The food smelled amazing and her stomach growled in anticipation. Neither of the two Jedi standing across from the Trianii had a decent meal in weeks. This was an unexpected treat. "It does," she inhaled deeply and took a seat alongside Daria with a whimsical look. "Is that ... mastiff I smell? And gipanis?"

Memories of Dinati V came to the forefront and her smile turned sad. "You didn't have to go through so much trouble ..."

[Drin Kizael]

"Trouble," Kizael said through a derisive smirk. He chuckled and set out two metal canters from the galley with tea and kava on the table. "The only trouble is that I can't do this more often. I haven't been able to cook a real meal in somewhere around a decade."

The Jedi picked up Daria's plate first and filled it with a heaping serving of meat cubes and vegetables mixed in rice. He pointed out the chopsticks next to the flatware for the miraluka, noting that there were entirely optional.

At last he sat down and served himself. "So, it appears that we have much to discuss."

[Daria Nytherciria]

Daria wiggled the chopsticks between her fingers for a moment, managing to secure pinch of vegetables just as Drin spoke again. She nodded. As pleasant as it was to sit down to a meal together, her instincts had told her from the outset that there was more to the impromptu gathering than met the eye.

“What is it you wish to discuss, master?”

[Drin Kizael]

Drin regarded Daria as he chewed his first mouthful. It seemed his attempt at setting the meeting around a meal to make the conversation seem less formal backfired on him.

"Well," he replied after taking a drink of tea. "It's been a month since we met to discuss establishing a structured leadership for the Jedi. A number of names were brought up, but no formal resolution was reached. I think it's high time to settle that matter so that the Jedi can focus our efforts better."

[Daria Nytherciria]

“Structure is important – essential, even,” Daria nodded in agreement. She speared a mouthful of vegetables and frowned faintly as her eyes lifted back to Drin. “How would you recommend we go about creating this new... council, for lack of a better term.”

[Drin Kizael]

"As I'm sure you remember, several names were raised and generally agreed upon at that meeting after the Imperial attack."

Kizael gestured around the table. "The three of us, Abarai Loki, and Tionne Thanewulf. The democratic process did not get us anywhere closer to settling the manner, but someone needs to. The war won't wait for us to deliberate any further, I'm afraid."

The trianii took another bite and leaned back. He had genuinely hoped that they'd get to talk about less weighty matters first. In so many ways he barely knew the women at the table, even Navaria. Especially Navaria.

"I agree that the best structure is to comprise the leadership of three chairs, a Guardian, a Counselor, and a Sentinel. Or the closest approximation to those roles, since so few of us had had that kind of formal training. But still, it was those three schools of thought that defined us, and will continue to define us whether we claim the labels or not.

"I took the liberty of speaking with Tionne. I knew she would not want the job. Her calling is in the field, not in training or mediation. To that end she can be an invaluable resource, but not as a leader.

"I also invited Loki to join us later, after the three of us have had enough time to discuss matters."

Kizael took a drink, taking the moment to gather his thoughts. "I've gathered that he is a highly valued member of this..." His eyes shifted in search of the right word. "Community," he settled on at length. He couldn't call the Jedi an 'order' yet.

"He is extremely disciplined, well read, well regarded by many, exhaustively trained in the use of his powers and saber techniques. But I believe it would be supremely unwise to put a boy his age in a position of such responsibility."

He left a longer pause linger in the air on that note, giving time for his words to sink in while he ate.

[Daria Nytherciria]

“The galaxy has thrust maturity upon so many of us, far sooner than we might have expected.”

Daria herself had been a matter of years older than Abarai Loki when her master and fellow apprentices had been slaughtered in the polar fields of Telos IV by Darth Stratus. Orphaned by circumstance, the young Miraluka had traveled the galaxy alone, not so much searching for anything as fleeing from it, from the legacy that she was now almost solely responsible for passing on. She glanced from Drin to Navaria, once again feeling that the time was coming to face up to the inevitable.

“We three, then...?”

[Navaria Tarkin]

Navaria remained quiet, listening with a pensive face as Drin's focus became of the Jedi's future. She had also hoped for a few scant minutes to talk to the Trianii about everything. Anything other then the topic currently on the table.

It was a moment of selfishness, but it passed. This was far too important to brush aside. She nodded her head once at the mention of Thanewulf. Drin's assessment of the woman, Navaria agreed with. Her outburst at the meeting completely blindsided most, but with the few conversations she had since the Knight's arrival aboard the Wheel, she had a bad feeling that her adjustment to this time period was far more unsettling then Tionne portrayed. She did not like being right in this case.

Then the subject of Loki was broached. He was a valuable asset, an example to the other Jedi that in these times of trouble, even the young can adapt and accept the responsibility thrust upon their shoulders and persevere for the sake of the Force. It had happened with both of the women sitting at the table, but what Drin sought was a marriage of wisdom. Loki needed to teach, to mold the confidence he had into that wisdom.

"Then so be it." She placed her fork against the side of the plate and looked to Daria, then Drin. Navaria had been preparing herself for this moment she knew was coming. Her face, her name - it gave people hope for the future and she could not deny the Force or her destiny.

[Drin Kizael]

Drin smiled at Navaria. "Well, if any of the three of us was simply a given, it would be you. You've achieved Mastery of the Force in a remarkably short time. Everyone already considers you the defacto leader as it is. It's the two of us that are under a bit more contention for the title."

He paused to consider his words around another mouthful of rice and a drink. "I fear I am more qualified than anyone not in this room by seniority alone. That and I suspect I'm one of only a tiny handful that has truly trained anyone else, not just in combat exercises, but in the full extent of Jedi life.

"Though I must confess that my one student turned out as well as she did more despite me than because of me."

The trianii gently held up a hand to stop Navaria's expected protest.

"Navaria, you were nowhere near the end of your training by any measure when Vader found us. You grew in your skill thanks to masters that you were forced to seek out on your own, and out of necessity. I can't take credit for any of that."

He took another bite, continuing. "Still, the point is I do know what it means to teach outside of an academy or a gym, unlike most of us.

"More concerning to me about taking this position is my history. Neither of you asked me why I was in prison, and I thank you for that. But the truth is I belonged there. I am a little more familiar with the cost of brushing with the Dark Side than a Jedi should be, much less someone who claims right over a Council seat.

"But still here we are, in need of a Guardian in that seat and without a candidate who both wants it and is suited to the task in these dark times. Under any other circumstances, I would decline. But given the reality of our situation, the Force is telling me otherwise. I can only hope that my, uh, time to reflect on my crimes was enough to grant me the clarity I will need in the days to come."

[Daria Nytherciria]

“You are not the only one amongst us who had felt the lure of the Dark Side.”

Daria shared a glance with Navaria. Whilst the malicious Darth Stratus had been unable to make a creature of her, the Miraluka had allowed herself to brush against the shadowy tendrils of the Dark Side on one occasion. When it seemed as if death was certain for Navaria, as she tumbled in a tangle of limbs and lightsabers from the heights of the then-Moff Tarkin's office, Daria's pain and remorse had given her the boost of energy and power she needed to fight her way to safety. It chilled Daria to think back to that time, so she pulled herself back to the present.

“There is no one perfect amongst us.. but our strength lies in our diversity. From Solomon's soft-spoken wisdom to Abarai Loki's pragmatic insight.”

[Drin Kizael]

Kizael nodded in agreement. "Indeed." He took advantage of the pause to eat. Sadly small talk wasn't an option with the topic still hovering over the table.

"I was actually going to invite both Loki and Sol up here after we've had a chance to talk. I only found out recently that Sol was among us. Were he at the meeting I am sure his name would have come up as well. In fact we spoke about this matter a bit. I got the impression that he would be as hesitant to take a Council seat as I was."

Kizael winced slightly as he took another bite. "I am not sure what to make of this new religion he's found. Applying personification to the Force, giving it... motives for lack of a better word, it isn't our place.

"Though the overall message of peace is, well, similar. And he does speak often of redemption, which we can all appreciate. But he uses the word forgiveness. That could send a conflicting message to the students trying to avoid the Dark Side because of the cost. If they think some figurehead behind the Force will simply forgive them..."

The trianii's voice trailed off. He took another quick bite and shook his head. "Sorry. The point is, Sol does certainly add a unique perspective, and I think he will be a valued resource. A voting member of the leadership...?" Kizael gestured in circles with his chopsticks, leaving his answer unspoken. "Though I was going to suggest that he join us in Council meetings as an arbiter, perhaps."

Kizael straightened a bit as he came to the point. "I feel we need someone who can prompt us to think in new directions, and perhaps to keep us on topic. I don't want us to fall into the trap of just agreeing with each other and moving on without seeing the whole picture, but it would be far worse to become mired in debate. The last thing I want to see is a repeat of the past, where the Council would deliberate into infinity." On that note he paused again, his eyes shifting down subtly. "And reach a decision only when it was too late," he added.

"It should not take us a month to decide things like who shall lead us. On that, I hope we can all agree."

[Daria Nytherciria]

Daria took the time to chew another mouthful before she answered, clearly considering her words carefully. “It should take.. however long is necessary to reach a suitable conclusion. This gathering is decades in the making. The last thing I would want to encourage is haste simply because we are, at last, coming together as one. I have no desire to see our aspirations smothered in bureaucracy and deliberation but as Jedi we must exercise patience.”

Her eyes dipped and the Jedi Knight shook her head softly. “As for Sol... I do not begrudge him his faith. I dare say my perception of the Force is markedly different to your own. What we must accept, as a whole, is that we cannot ever completely control or know the mind of another. Most of the beings aboard this convoy – with the exception of young Loki – were not raised within the strict confines of the old order. They will have questions and curiosities and rather than cloaking the Dark Side in mystery, it is my belief we should be honest with them. Let them face their fears, their challenges, and learn from them... as we three have done.”

[Drin Kizael]

Kizael considered Daria's words, listening with genuine interest. Though little came as a surprise, the whole point of this meeting, and for a Council itself, was to talk about all matters openly.

"I have no desire to see our aspirations smothered in bureaucracy and deliberation but as Jedi we must exercise patience.”

"In all things, there is balance, and this is no exception. We don't want to rush decisions, but we need focus, especially now."

“As for Sol... I do not begrudge him his faith. I dare say my perception of the Force is markedly different to your own. What we must accept, as a whole, is that we cannot ever completely control or know the mind of another.

"I do not hold Sol's faith against him by any means," Drin quickly amended. "I would no sooner ask him to relinquish it than I would expect Mon Mothma to drop her crusade."

"Most of the beings aboard this convoy – with the exception of young Loki – were not raised within the strict confines of the old order."

"And myself... and Sol, ironically enough."

"They will have questions and curiosities and rather than cloaking the Dark Side in mystery, it is my belief we should be honest with them. Let them face their fears, their challenges, and learn from them... as we three have done.”

"That is..." Kizael started to disagree, but paused. His eyes shifted to Navaria. "An interesting approach. Incredibly dangerous, but interesting."

The big trianii leaned back in his chair, looking out the viewport of the conference room in contemplation.

"This new generation is so unlike mine in more ways than I can count. The expectation of raising every Force adept before they get out of kindergarten is no longer viable, which puts many other expectations into question.

"Even those of us from the temple, we've all gone through radical life changes. Few of us can claim to be what we were raised to be two decades removed from our training in the Temple."

The Jedi Guardian turned back to the table, regarding each of his peers as he continued. "If we were to adopt such a policy, we would need to be twice as vigilant over our charges, Knights, padawans, and initiates alike."

He tapped the table. "See, this is why we need a leading body to be formalized. Things such as this could never be settled by committee. It is precisely because of our differences in how we view the Force and our role in serving it that we need representatives from each school of thought in each seat."

Kizael leaned on the table, pausing to look at Navaria and Daria in turn. "Though as loathe as I am to admit it, there is a political component to being on the Council as well. Hence the need for a mediator."

[Navaria Tarkin]

The talk of organization, of change, of leadership - it was something that Navaria should be chiming in with her thoughts, but there was an oppressive constant of the Dark Side that only seem perpetuate her thoughts. The extent of its presence was troublesome, especially as it increased during the discussions. An obvious warning that shouldn't be ignored, but it made clarity difficult at best. The web of deceit and terror was worrisome.

"No, Daria." The Jedi Master finally broke her silence and tore her gaze away from the field of stars to both the Miraluka and Trianii, "Drin is right. We have to remain focused. It is the best course. We have little time on our side, still, before ..."

She shook her head and cupped her chin, looking unusually tired, "... I am not sure. But there is something already working against us."

Her appetite had subsided, which was a feat considering Drin had prepared one of the Jedi Master's favorite dishes, and discarded the utensil in hand. Lips pursed, her thoughts returned to what the Trianii had mentioned before. It seemed to have struck a cord.

"If we were to adopt such a policy, we would need to be twice as vigilant over our charges, Knights, padawans, and initiates alike."

"Having a watchful eye over our people won't be enough. Not if what we are hoping to avoid is already here." Sighing, her hand shied away from her face and Navaria's shoulders sagged as if the oppressive weight of the Dark Side itself was against her. "We are lax, I'm afraid. The Rebellion has more protocol then we do as they take in recruits. Our need to bring the Jedi together has moved ... quickly. Most of our people are strangers to us."

[Daria Nytherciria]

“Patience does not equate to a lack of focus,” Daria began, her words coming sharper than she had intended. She held her tongue and reminded herself that of the three Jedi present, she was the least senior. Her own training had been brief and since losing her master, she had been self-taught – relying upon instinct and the guidance of the Force itself to shape her skills and character. Yet, it was this very same self-sufficiency that had given Daria her concrete sense of purpose. She had not been a part of a unit for a long time, preferring to clarity and security of working alone, but that was no longer an option.

[Drin Kizael]

“Patience does not equate to a lack of focus,”

Spoken like a true Counselor, Kizael mused to himself. When it seemed evident that she had no more to add, he leaned his elbows back on the table.

"It appears that we agree at least that a Council should be convened," he said gently, regarding the women in the hopes of drawing at least a nod. "And that we three, a Guardian, a Counselor, and a Sentinel -- or at least one whose skill crosses over a wider range, for lack of more formal training -- are best suited to take up the responsibility."

Drin returned to his food for a moment, mulling over Navaria's words and hoping the pause would prompt further discussion from the two of them.

This affinity she demonstrated with the Unifying Force was the most significant talent for which he could never take credit. It was what led her to find him across the galaxy. He recognized it immediately and learned quickly to pay heed to her insight. If she felt a tremor of the Dark Side at work aboard The Wheel, it was a serious problem.

But first, there were still delicate matters to discuss, things that needed to be said before leadership could be formalized. Kizael was not looking forward to this.

[Navaria Tarkin]

They were going to have differing opinions. It was healthy and would serve the Jedi well as long as they did not stray from the path that was good for the entire collective of the group. Solomon would help keep them on topic and help prevent the mistakes of the past of too much debate and deliberation.

That thought made her eyes stray towards Daria. It was not that Navaria didn't advocate patience, she was a Jedi after all, but there was also a time to react, trusting in the Force. It would be a delicate balance juggling the two and knowing when it was appropriate for one or the other. Idly as this was playing over in her mind, the responsibility of a leader and being a symbol to others in this dark time, she wondered how her sister handled it. Calm and poised as ever on the holonet, Navaria wondered how her sister was truly handling the strain of the war with the Independents, maintaining the illusion of stability with the Rebellion still pressing on, and the multiple enemies that lay hidden within the Empire itself.

Her thoughts returning to the present, dinner had grown quiet. Daria was internally debating her response but Drin was another matter. Appearances to the contrary, something was on his mind. Years may have passed but Navaria didn't require the Force to recognize his tells. He was too quiet. Drin's jovial beginnings had turned serious, but he was not one to let silence continue for this long. A slight ruffling of his fur around his nose always indicated an unpleasant discussion, more often then not a lecture in her younger years, was moments away. However, there were times when the Trianii required a bit of prodding, even when he wasn't ready to speak his mind. Little Kozhi was not always so patient as a child.

A slight pull of her lips was the only tell that Navaria was dreading being so direct. A significant change since their separation. "I ... know that look."

She allowed a small smile of encouragement. "What's wrong, Drin?"

[Drin Kizael]

Kizael smiled softly. "I wouldn't say anything is wrong. There is a sensitive matter I wish did not need to be raised, but it must."

The Jedi Master set down his cup and took a deep breath.

"The Jedi Code demands much of us. To be true servants of the Force we have always adhered to certain rules, tenets. Prominent among them is, 'conquer external attachments'."

Kizael paused to let that sink in and to gauge the reactions of each woman at the table.

"This tenet speaks directly to the Code. It is important to maintain our self discipline and clarity of mind. It is tragically too easy for personal attachments to grow so strong that they cloud our judgment. They can drive us to the use the Force to dangerous ends."

He held Navaria's gaze and added, "I speak from experience on this."

No one spoke for a moment. Kizael coughed softly as if to clear the awkwardness from the air.

"I first became aware of your bond during our escape from Mytus VII, though I could not be sure that it was more at the time. What with all the blaster fire and such." He smiled slightly.

"I must applaud your discretion. It's likely that I am the only one who's picked up on it. I may be in the unique position of simply knowing you too well. As much as the weight of your responsibilities has changed you, every now and then I see Lianna peering out."

He followed Navaria's eyes across the table, and back again. "Like now."

The trianii's expression eased as he continued in a serious tone. "I trust you understand that you are treading on fragile ground with this."

Kizael rested his arms on the table and regarded the two patiently.

[Daria Nytherciria]

“Lianna!!” In an instant, Daria was running towards the gaping hole where the window had once been. Stumbling over upturned furniture, she tripped and fell to her knees – one hand steadying herself on the jagged remains of the windows edge, heedless of the pain the broken glass caused, whilst the other reached desperately out into the air beyond, where she felt Lianna's life-force plummeting away from her.

Daria blinked and the image of the battle on Doldur vanished from her minds eye. The mission to save Miranda Tarkin's life had been exhausting, physically and emotionally. A trial by ordeal, it had proved a turning point for Daria.

“I understand,” she answered at last, the weight of her words perhaps lost on the Trianii, but certainly not on Navaria herself.

[Navaria Tarkin]

Daria had the same thought. The dangers of their relationship had been discussed, debated and tested before tonight. And it had survived, only strengthening their bond. Their attachment to one another had not become hindered, or a distraction towards the calling of the Force - though the Jedi Master could not discount that for a period of time, it almost had.

"We both understand," she replied and looked towards Daria, her eyes softening, "And it has not been easy."

Navaria looked away, her smile bordering close to the beginnings of a laugh, "But when isn't it when you believe in something so strongly."

[Drin Kizael]

Kizael knew better thank to think that either of them would step into anything this important so lightly. Daria had alluded to personal experience with the dark side in the past, and she was prone to analyze every decision that faced her from every possible angle. Navaria was painfully aware of the responsibility and the spotlight placed on her.

Still, the risks needed to be addressed out loud. They needed to know that he figured it out. And if he could, then it's not impossible that others could as well.

"In regards to your duty to the Force, neither of you have anything to prove. But as I said, there is a political component to being a leader. While most Jedi are -- or should be -- above judgment of all sentient life, we can't risk sending the wrong message about encouraging intimate relationships or any kind, especially the initiates or even those junior Knights who don't have the same level of control."

Kizael took another drink, quietly wishing he had thought to serve wine instead of tea. "It's not unheard of," he added. "Kai adi-Mundi was married, with the blessing of the High Council. There were, of course, rumors of others, but as long as they were discrete and had the trust of the Council, no one interfered. All of us with ties to the High Council knew that Anakin Skywalker was having a secret affair with a senator. Although many wanted to stop it, it would have been pointless, and likely just pushed him that much faster toward his fate."

The trianii winced slightly and continued. "I would be more concerned with our Rebel supporters, though. Not everyone will understand such an, uh, unconventional relationship."

[Daria Nytherciria]

Skywalker's fall to the Dark Side was legendary. If the stories were to be believed, the loss of Senator Amidala had driven him mad with grief. Whether the strict regulations of the Order had pushed him towards his fall was a subject of contention and one that Daria could only a speculate, quite fruitlessly, on. At Kizael's mention of the Rebels, she lifted an eyebrow.

“Unconventional?”

[Navaria Tarkin]

"In regards to your duty to the Force, neither of you have anything to prove. But as I said, there is a political component to being a leader. While most Jedi are -- or should be -- above judgment of all sentient life, we can't risk sending the wrong message about encouraging intimate relationships or any kind, especially the initiates or even those junior Knights who don't have the same level of control."

"I agree. This was not something I took lightly. I just ... knew it was right. But discerning what is right from mere infatuation tests anyone's level of control and can be a distraction." What Navaria said next was trying, because the implications of being a leader was now, potentially, bringing her personal life under scrutiny. "I'm unsure how we should handle this."

"I would be more concerned with our Rebel supporters, though. Not everyone will understand such an, uh, unconventional relationship."

"They fight for the right of all sentients. Thousands of races out there in our galaxy - I believe it be difficult to really define what's conventional." She smile lightly but her face fell serious with Daria's question. The Miraluka honestly did not understand.

"He means what some would consider ... traditional in quite a few species. A union between opposite sexes, not the same."

[Daria Nytherciria]

“Tradition?” Daria scoffed with laughter. “With all due respect... humanity alone is divided into thousands of sub-cultures, each with their own individual traditions.”

Sitting back, she shook her head. Though she was smiling, the expression was tight and didn't reach her eyes. It was such a preposterous question that she could hardly believe that they – the self-proclaimed leaders of the Jedi Order – were spending time discussing it. She waved one hand, as if shooing the matter away.

“No. The last thing I am worried about right now is whether my personal life is offending anyone's sensibilities. I mean, for stars sake - the Verpine are a part of the Alliance and they don't even have a set gender.”

[Drin Kizael]

Kizael returned the smile, though his was less guarded. "Fair enough. I was merely pointing out a reaction that you are likely to encounter. Not all sentient life is as enlightened as we expect of them. Even some who put on a good public front merely keep their xenophobia well hidden."

He went about finishing his meal for a moment. It was a welcome respite, knowing he had military grade slop to look forward to tomorrow.

"Just be mindful of the danger that mixed signals to the initiates and younger Knights could present," he added cautiously. "Conquering personal attachments is key to keeping many Jedi on the right path. We can't assume they are able to handle themselves as well as you two. That's all."

The trianii looked up at a chrono display on a wall panel. "We need to discuss Loki for just a moment before he gets here. Let's hope he has an appetite because it seems I cooked too much food."

Looking back at the other Jedi, he continued. "With our new responsibilities, it will be important for everyone to have an accessible point of contact to us. If we are away on a mission or attending to duties, I think that young Abarai could fill that role well. He can be trusted to keep us apprised of things we might otherwise miss, and to bring concerns to us in confidence. An advocate, of sorts. I think it would do him well."

[Navaria Tarkin]

They would be the leaders of this conglomerate of Jedi and Force Users. A modicum of decorum was required since they would be regarded highly amongst the Rebellion, peers, and ones who did not understand what it meant to be Jedi. If the matter came under question, Daria and Navaria would alleviate concerns then. She had nothing to hide, but the Jedi had to agree with her love that their personal matters would remain as such. Personal. The fact that they did not flaunt their relationship and worked together as one was enough of an example.

"Please, Drin." Navaria's smile was crooked in regards to his comment about too much food, "I could prove that statement false if you give me the chance. Just because I have to rely on rations now does not mean my 'black hole of a stomach' does not exist anymore. But it's not to say that Loki isn't welcomed."

As a child, she could eat for four people and barely gain an ounce, and that would also include the food required to maintain Drin!

"He definitely ... is observant. Almost ... frighteningly so. If there was one person aboard the Wheel that somehow finds a way to be everywhere at once, it's him," she commented.

"Having him as a bridge between us and the rest of the Jedi seems like a simple task on the surface, but I sense there's more to the story. You still have that twitch of yours when you're brooding too much," she added teasingly.

[Drin Kizael]

"Jedi do not brood," Kizael replied dryly. "They reflect." The fur around his mouth tucked in, just shy of a smile.

"I wish to keep Abarai Loki close," he said after the slightest pause. "To keep an eye on him. That much unchecked arrogance, that much knowledge without any experience to give it perspective, that much power and potential." His words trailed off until he simply shook his head. "I worry about him."

The Jedi frowned. "To be blunt, Loki is at times not just a boy but a petulant child. I question how a boy his age, so clearly repressed and lacking any semblance of humility could have been conferred the station of Jedi Knight. And yet, he conducts training classes. He has been allowed a position where a dozen initiates all give him their undivided attention. They look up to him for guidance. He's even taken on a Padawan."

Kizael sighed. "That should be a source of concern, not praise. We cannot simply demote him -- although truthfully that is my first instinct. I fear it would be more dangerous to shatter whatever illusion keeps his ego from crumbling under its own weight.

"We can, however mentor him. I do not sense the dark side in him. But then again, no one sensed it in Anakin until it was too late, either."

[Daria Nytherciria]

Quite clearly taken aback, Daria looked from Kizael to Navaria, hoping that she was not alone in the surprise she felt upon hearing the Trianii's words. Petulant, arrogant, lacking any semblance of humility – these were not concepts she associated with the young Jedi Knight.

“There must be some mistake... we can't possibly be thinking of the same Abarai Loki.”

[Drin Kizael]

"I wish we weren't," Kizael replied. "I would love to be proven wrong. It seems my perspective on the boy is unique, but my instincts tell me that he that he is a bigger threat to himself than anyone realizes. Either those close to him can't see it, because he has everyone fooled -- himself included -- or they just don't want to see it. I don't know yet. But I intend to find out. I only fear that the warning signs have been neglected too long."

Kizael frowned. He could tell he wasn't getting anywhere with this approach. He didn't yet know how to fully explain what was nagging him about Loki. To Daria's "sight", Loki appeared as a perfectly calm, perfectly in control Jedi. But that was precisely the problem. His aura was too perfect, and at odds with the way he spoke and acted.

Perhaps from her perspective his aura of confidence and emotional strength rivaled that of a Master. It would take more than his instincts after a few weeks of casual observation to convince her that it was actually his mental armor creating the illusion.

He looked at the time and settled on saying, "That's why we need to just keep a closer eye on him. For now."