Light of the Jedi(91)
The comms droid projected an image of the Council Chamber for Jora to see: the elegant circular room with huge windows in every wall providing uninterrupted views of the Coruscant cityscape. It was day at the Temple, and the sun shone in, illuminating the beautiful mosaic inlaid upon the floor. The windows were symbolically significant, as well—the High Council conducted its business in the open, with nothing to hide.
Twelve seats were set at equal intervals around the room, each sized and designed for its particular occupant. Yarael Poof, Rano Kant, Oppo Rancisis, Keaton Murag, and Ada-Li Carro were present in person. Six others, including herself, were appearing via hologram, with yet another droid in the Council Chamber projecting their images to the other attendees. Eleven Council members, all but Master Rosason, in the midst of a delicate diplomatic negotiation from which he could not step away.
Jora thought about her Padawan, Reath Silas.
She wished he were there with her. He could learn many things from observing a Council meeting. Truth be told, she just missed the young man.
Reath was seventeen, a good student, but perhaps not entirely thrilled that he would soon follow his master to the Starlight Beacon instead of remaining on Coruscant. The frontier held little interest for him. Well, of course. Reath was, in fact, seventeen. No space station, no matter how exotic, could compare to the greatest city in the galaxy.
She had left him behind to give him a bit more time on Coruscant before he joined her in the Outer Rim, a small kindness she had been happy to provide. But just as his time in the Core was done, Reath had been pulled into a mission alongside two more experienced Jedi, Cohmac Vitus and Orla Jareni, both Knights. She had questions about Orla, but Cohmac was steady. Reath would be fine, if perhaps a little frustrated at losing his last bit of time in the Core.
Ah, well. Such was the life of a Jedi. Better to get used to it early.
She glanced at Sskeer, sitting across the table from her, watching silently, his long, clawed arms folded across his chest. He looked imposing, as always, a slab of scaled muscle and sharp teeth in Jedi robes. Trandoshan Jedi were rare, because the planet’s culture was built around predation and supremacy, ideals that did not always mesh well with the precepts of the Order. Even when Trandoshan children did have an affinity for the Force, it was unusual for them to be brought to the Jedi Temple for training. But Sskeer had not only made it to Coruscant, but had also excelled, becoming a full-fledged Jedi Master. All things were possible.
Jora didn’t imagine she would have direct need of him during this Council meeting, and she thought he knew that, too—but Sskeer was never far, and it was often when she’d thought she’d have no need for him at all that he’d come in most handy. Sskeer had personally saved her life four times.
And counting, she assumed.
The meeting began—and the matter to be discussed truly was important. The chancellor of the Republic, Lina Soh, had asked the Jedi to participate directly in a mission she had authorized for the Republic Defense Coalition to hunt down and either imprison or eradicate a group of Outer Rim raiders who called themselves the Nihil.
These people had interfered with the galactic hyperspace lanes in what appeared to be an effort to extort systems out of enormous sums of money. Bad enough, but their actions had also caused the deaths of billions of people and paralyzed a wide swath of the galaxy.
The Nihil must be dealt with. The only question was the role of the Jedi in that action.
Jora listened as the various Council members presented their arguments. Great emphasis was placed on interpreting the will of the Force, listening for the voice of the Force, taking direction from the Force, and so on. Jora found that a little tiresome. A philosophical vortex.
For her, it was very simple. The Jedi were deeply connected to the light side of the Force. Whatever choice any Jedi made was, therefore, the will of the Force. Study and focus allowed the Jedi to become better instruments of that will, certainly, in much the way that a well-maintained lightsaber functioned better than one that had fallen into disrepair—but getting caught up in an endless debate about what the Force might want was paralyzing. A waste of time.
“This is a military action,” Master Adampo said, stroking the long white whiskers dangling from her chin, her voice strong and direct. “The Jedi are not a military force. I believe it is that simple.”
“But we have been a military force in the past,” said Oppo Rancisis. “In fact, our predecessors waged and won the Great Sith War. There is endless precedent in the chronicles for this sort of thing.”
“True, but we are not at war now. We are the farthest thing from it,” said Rana Kant.
“Not the farthest,” replied Yarael Poof. “There have been times in our history when the Order was reduced to but a handful of members.”
“Why are we talking about history?” said Ephru Shinn, the newest member of the Council, a Mon Calamari, selected by Yoda to hold his seat while the great Master was on his sabbatical from Council business. “We should be concerned with now, not old empires or victories or defeats. What is our role in this Republic, at this precise moment?”
She lifted a hand.
“I believe that the Jedi should, at all times, present to the many peoples of the galaxy a way of life centered on peace. We must show them the way. The Republic is uniquely receptive to such an idea at this moment.”