Meetings

I still haven't read any of this back to myself.

***

The last echo of her footsteps died on the pale, stonelike walls around her as Sera Khan finally looked up from her datapad. She was lost. She was very, very lost if the silently empty corridors twisting away from her in every direction were any indication. I wish the chick in the Archives had given me a damn map when I asked instead of giving me lip about lying about needing directions…

Straining her ears trying to catch even the smallest hint of life that she could badger for help, Sera nearly smacked herself in the face when she realised that she didn’t have to. Right, dumbass. You have magic powers. She forgot sometimes, having become so accustomed to the material plane of existence that the thought of extending herself beyond that didn’t always occur to her. Not even in combat. Her hand still ached from unthinkingly slugging Malak in the jaw a few weeks ago.

She shook her head roughly. Don’t want to think about Malak right now. Bastila had had another nightmare last night, awaking crying and shaking, ready to strike at the enemies around her that only she could see. Sera had smoothed the sweat-soaked hair back from Bastila's face and kissed away her tears until her breathing slowed and calmed. They had stayed up after that, talking of happier things, their hopes and dreams, what they wanted for the future, stopping only to grab a few more hours of sleep before their scheduled meeting with the Council that morning.

Which she was now late too because certain Jedi had weird ideas about what their members should and shouldn't know. Letting out an annoyed huff, she closed her eyes and tried to shake off the uneasy, prickly sense of being scrutinized that had dogged her steps since she set foot in the Jedi Temple. She drew a cleansing breath into her lungs and listened with her mind to the hum of the planet-city around her, the much quieter mutter of the earth beneath it all, and the fathomless rumble of space above and surrounding them. Trying to narrow her focus to her immediate vicinity without letting the Force slip from her grasp, Sera felt around out from herself until she sensed the warm knot of life she was looking for. Hopefully, it’s not somebody’s illicit stash of holocrons. Or some really old trees. Allowing herself to be momentarily tickled by the thought of stacks of holocrons pulsating with dirty energy sitting next to a pile of neon dildoes and lube hastily shoved under the bed of some po-faced Jedi, Sera headed off in the general direction of what was hopefully a sentient being.

It took a little longer than she expected, having to double back several times when her route ended in a dead-end or unexpectedly turned off in the wrong direction, but finally, she was standing in an open doorway gazing into the room that the living-thing sensation had emanated from. There were several very proper looking Jedi of a variety of ages and races scattered around the room engaged in what looked to be very serious and thoughtful conversations with each other. Along one wall of the room, a table was set up with snacks and an urn of hot water for tea and other beverages. A large chair was placed near the table filled what appeared to be a pile of rumpled cloth. Sera raised her hand to knock on the doorframe but a slightly tired-looking Bothan Jedi, who had been busy clearing detritus from the snack table, spotted her, smiled and wandered over before she could disturb their solemnity.

“Yes, how can I hel--”

“HOSK, ASK THE FELLOW WHAT THEY WANT!” the rumpled cloth yelled loudly.

“Hosk” bowed tiredly in the direction of the chair before turning back to Sera, who was watching this all with bemusement.

“Is there anything--”

“I JUST DON’T UNDERSTAND WHAT A WORKMAN COULD WANT WITH THE JEDI ORDER!”

“Master, please!” Hosk tapped his ear in an attempt to convey something to his Master.

“WHAT ARE YOU BABBLING ABOUT? BRING THE WORKMAN HERE, CHILD, BEFORE YOU CAUSE A SCENE!” This, unsurprisingly, attracted the attention of the rest of the small group. Sera felt their probing curiosity, the pale gold of her jacket with the stylized tree climbing up the one side of its front, faded with age even though it was, the custom visor on her head and her worn but sturdy work boots standing in stark contrast to the dignified majesty of the Temple and its noble inhabitants.

She chuckled when poor Hosk’s shoulders drooped in defeat. “Hey, don’t worry about it. I was late anyway.”

“I am so sorry for his behaviour,” Hosk said. “We’ve been trying to get him to wear his hearing aid but he keeps telling us that hearing is for the young and that his time has passed.”

“WHY ARE YOU TWO WHISPERING AMONGST YOURSELVES?” A Force-propelled paper cup bounced off of the beleaguered Bothan’s head. “IF YOU’RE SAYING SOMETHING THAT YOU’RE ASHAMED FOR YOUR MASTER TO HEAR, YOU SHOULDN’T BE SAYING IT AT ALL!”

They were followed by a smattering of muffled laughter (as well as at least one disgusted eye-roll) as they made the short journey from the doorway to the chair by the snack table. Now that she was closer, Sera could see that what she had taken for a pile of cloth was actually an incredibly old Rodian Jedi. His skin, a dark grey-ish green from extreme old age, hung loosely on his bent and shrunken frame, his eyes watery and rheumy although, Sera noted that there was still a fiery spark of intelligence hidden deep within their depths.

“WELL, WHAT DO YOU WANT WITH THE JEDI, BOY? WAIT! HOSK, WHAT ARE YOU DOING? STOP FIDDLING WITH MY… ARRGH! WHY IS EVERYONE YELLING?!”

“Master, no one is yelling but you,” Hosk said quietly, stepping away from his Master’s flailing hands after successfully inserting the hearing aid. “Please use your inside voice.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, child!” the old man yelled at a more civilized volume. “I still remember when you could barely lift a pebble, let alone talk back to your elders! Now.” He turned away from his grumbling apprentice -- “I’ve been a Master for two years now...” -- and peered blearily up at Sera. “What business do you have with the Jedi, boy? Why do you seek out our ancient order?”

Boy? “I have a meeting with the Council this morning. Unfortunately, I don’t know my way around and I got lost.” And I maybe should have come with Bastila this morning instead of heading to the market to sell off some of our weapons and armour and looking at job listings.

However, the old man was not listening to Sera’s explanation. His eyes roved over her as if trying to work out some puzzle. Suddenly, he gasped and pulled Sera towards him. Sweat beading on her forehead, Sera swallowed down the ball of panic that formed inside her and only just managed to stop her fist swinging out in self-defence.

Ignoring Hosk’s plea to “Please stop touching people without their consent!”, the Rodian grasped Sera’s head between two bony but surprisingly strong hands, turning it this way and that, twisting Sera’s neck almost to the point of discomfort. He let out an abrupt laugh.

“Revan! Why, you’ve cut your hair, young one!”

Her blood turning to a river of ice in her veins, Sera felt a mask of bland pleasantness sliding onto her face.

“Why would you call me that, old man,” she distantly heard herself say with calm friendliness, her insides roiling. “I don’t believe we’ve ever met before today.”

“Nonsense.” He chuckled. “You used to come to our little group quite regularly. We had many stimulating debates on the proper use and distribution of power. You are our most illustrious member, the vessel of all our ambitions.”

Ishouldn’thavecomeIshouldn’thavecomeIshouldn’thavecomeIshouldn’tha-- “I think you must have me mixed up with someone else.” The words leaving her mouth were light and airy, the smile of a saint fixed on her lips, her mind screaming inside the stone statue of her body.

Hosk’s face was pale beneath his fur. “Master Kenu, please!” The words came out thin and strained. “Force help me!” He turned to Sera. “He must be more senile than any of us realized.”

“What are you carrying on about, child? Come greet our dear friend with the respect their deserve.”

“Remember that we don’t like to talk about that anymore,” the younger man whispered furiously, prying his Master’s hands away from Sera’s head. The room was silent around them, all auditory organs bent to their conversation. “I’m sorry. You have business with the Council and we’ve delayed you for too long.”

Sera straightened from where she’d been crouched frozen in front of Master Kenu, panic still ringing in her head. “It’s not a problem at all.” Distantly, she wondered if she would ever sound like herself again. “If you would just direct me towards the Council Chambers, I’ll be on my way.”

“Why are you leaving so soon?” The old man sounded distressed. “You only just got here and we’ve hardly had any time to talk at all...”

“Master, this isn’t up for discussion. This woman needs to leave now and can’t waste any time talking to you!”

“But…” He seemed to deflate, aging decades as the spark went out of his eyes, looking like a confused old man. “I don’t understand. All I wanted to do was have a bit of a chat and you won’t even tell me why I can’t…”

Pushing aside her creeping dread with difficulty, Sera knelt down in front of the old man hunched despondently in his chair. “I would be honoured if you would show me the way to the Jedi Council, Master Kenu. Perhaps we can catch up on the way there?”

“You want to go for a walk with me?” He vibrated with excitement. “Let me just get my stick and we’ll be on our way!” he said, clapping his hands with delight.

Hosk took her arm as his Master began bustling about, collecting his things. “Really, you don’t have to indulge him. In a few hours he’ll forget you were ever here and he’ll be fine,” he whispered into Sera’s ear.

“Nah, it’s fine,” she said, the heavy weakness slowly draining out of her limbs. “I’m gonna be old and decrepit one day and I hope someone will bother to indulge my whims.”

~~~

Easier said than done. Even though his stick was clearly a great help, Master Kenu still shuffled along at a glacial pace. Whatever, I'm sure the Council will understand.

“You didn’t say what it is that you’ve been doing since you left.”

Your guess is as good as mine! She felt the twinge of anxiety stirring in her gut once more. “Oh, you know. This and that,” she said with a sickly smile, hoping that would be enough.

“Yes.” He peered up at her. “And what does that mean?”

“Oh. Uh… Actually…” Sera rubbed the back of her neck, feeling trapped by the old man’s persistence. Deciding to take a chance, she turned to him and said: “I got hit on the head and I don’t remember much of anything from before about six months ago.”

“Oh, I see.” The old man nodded and blinked slowly, a frown forming on his wrinkled face as he appeared to be thinking this new information over. Sera watched his face moving in thought as they inched forward one slow step at a time, mouth dry, feeling as though she were waiting for someone to pass judgement on her. “And how does that affect your work? You never told me what it is you did, boy.”

Her jaw dropped open, her ability to speak having apparently been misplaced somewhere along their walk.

“What’s the matter? It something embarrassing? Don’t worry, boy.” He thumped her back with several uncomfortably hard swings, knocking the air out of her. “I believe that you’ll find that we Jedi are uncommonly fair-minded and understanding.”

Sera gaped at the wizened old Rodian smiling beneficently up at her. “Well, I, uh…” She shrugged her shoulders, trying to loosen the deflated sense of disappointment that swept through her. “I guess we’re between work at the moment,” she said hesitantly. “I had a job but I left it and now I need to find something new.”

“Was that wise, boy? Do you have any idea what the job market is like in these troubled times?”

Sera smiled at the idea that a Jedi would have any idea what the job market was like. “It wasn’t a job that I’d picked for myself,” she explained. “It’s not a bad job but I get no joy from it. Literally the only reason I would want to stay is if my partner wanted to and she can’t stand it either.” Not anymore. Not with what it’s cost her.

“You children have no staying power!” Master Kenu shook his head sorrowfully at the folly of youth. “You quit just because you don’t like something, instead of doing your duty and finding joy through sacrifice and thoughtful contemplation.”

Interesting interpretation of fair-minded and understanding. “It doesn’t seem right to continue to do something that I hate a little more each day. What happens when my performance starts to suffer because I’m simultaneously trying to do my job,” She gesticulated to emphasize her point. “And fending off increasing disinterest in doing my job? I and the people around me deserve better than that.”

The old man grunted noncommittally. “And what are you going to do now? You’re not going to spend your days lollygagging, are you, boy?”

Sera took a deep breath. This was the tough part. “I don’t quite know yet,” she said carefully. “I know what I don’t want to do.” She ticked the items off with her fingers. “I don’t want to do anything violence-related and there are many jobs I can’t do because I have no formal education and training.” Fuck. I sound like a bum when I say that out loud. Helena’s just going to love having me as an in-law, taking her little girl away from a stable life and career… Fuck, fuck, fuck! “It also needs to be something within our general skill level, so that limits our options quite a bit.” That sounds worse! “Anyway, we just have to pick something from my partner’s shortlist and we’ll be good to go. It’s going to be fine!” Shit!

The old bugger fixed her with a piercing gaze. “Do you truly think that that is a step up in life, boy? Flitting from one job to the next rather than staying with something stable?”

“My plan is that we’ll only be doing freelance and part-time work until we’ve built up the expertise to turn it into something more permanent.” She scrubbed her hand over the back of her neck. “And it’ll be nice to see some of the galaxy under less violent circumstances. We can’t afford a proper holiday, so we might as well see the sights while we’re fixing a sewage complex or clearing a minefield.”

“Hrmm, I don’t like it…” the old man grumbled.

“You don’t have to like it. It’s not your life!” Sera smacked herself in the head. “Why am I telling you all this? I’m going to have to repeat all this to my partner’s mother after we’re done with the Council!”

Her companion hummed grumpily. “I’m afraid they’ll be in rather a tizz today.” He paused portentously. “I believe they’re holding the hearing of that Shan girl this morning,” he said darkly. “Dreadful business that. Inconceivable that they’re considering raising her to Knighthood after what she’s done.”

Sera cast a sideways glance at the old man. “And what exactly has she done?” Her voice came out lower and more dangerous than she intended. “I had heard that she did what she needed to do to stay alive and even went on to help the Republic forces, although she didn’t need to do anything extra or tire herself out further for anyone to accept her back.” Not that I’m bitter about anyone thinking that she needed to redeem herself or anything…

“Disgraceful! A Jedi’s first priority should be to never give in to the Dark Side.” He emphasized each word with a thump of his stick. “If she didn’t have the fortitude to resist the traitor Malak, she should have allowed herself to become one with the Force rather than letting her purity be sullied. Absolutely disgraceful!”

“Are you insane? No!” She shook her head vehemently. “She didn't willfully turn on the Republic out of nowhere. She was tortured until she switched sides! Why the hell should she have to suffer for a situation that she had no control over? You Jedi are mad!”

“You don’t know our ways, boy. If she cannot resist temptation, then she is not fit to be a Jedi. The fact that the Council is even considering letting her ascend…” He made a disgusted noise. “Truly shocking! I don’t know what this Order is coming to!”

“Don’t worry,” Sera said tightly. “I’m sure she’ll have the good grace to decline their offer. After all, who would want to associate with someone who would turn on you so readily?”

“Precisely right,” Master Kenu said, shaking his stick in triumph, not picking up on Sera’s tone.

They pottered along like that for a while, the long hallways silent save for the tapping of the old Master’s stick. No other being interrupted their slow progress, most of the Temple seemingly abandoned, giving Sera’s temper ample time to cool. He’s just a senile old bugger who doesn’t get out much anymore. He can’t hurt you or anyone you love with his beliefs. She took a deep breath to take another stab at engaging the old man in conversation and expelled it in a huff when she realized that she had no idea what to say to this stranger. She knew nothing about him (other than that he was old and a little bigoted) and they had next to nothing in common. Besides an inconsequential connection to the vast and fathomless power underlying everything in the universe.

Hoping her line of questioning wasn’t going to bite her in the ass, she asked: “So, uh, what’s up with your little club back there? Do you meet together very often?”

Master Kenu stared blankly up at her for a few moments and Sera’s stomach began to tighten, wondering if she’d inadvertently reminded him who she was and what she’d done.

“Our club?” He shifted his gaze away from Sera’s face as if plumbing the depths of his mind for an answer. “Oh, you mean Palhika. Yes, we try to gather every standard month or so although, that’s been getting more difficult of late what with this current conflict we’re embroiled in.” He let out a heavy sigh. “Membership seems to have fallen out of favour lately. People show up late, then avoid discussing anything of import anymore. I fear our great Society might fade from the annals of the Jedi Order if things don’t turn around.”

Sera cocked her head. “Why would membership be down?” Then it struck her. Because their most prominent member is a war criminal and a mass murderer, idiot! “I mean…” Shit! “Can’t you boost your image in some way? A bake sale or a series of charitable donations?”

Master Kenu was shaking head before she was even finished talking. “No, no, no! You cannot just allow any old riff-raff into Palhika! Membership is restricted to those who have been revealed to us by the Force. A child needs to have been given to the Order at a young enough age to have no memories, no attachments to anything from beyond the bounds of the Jedi, they need to have a strong and auspicious connection to the Force and they need to be--” He thumped his stick on the ground for emphasis. “--watched! If they do not display the necessary wisdom and dignity required of a True Jedi, then they are not given their intended names and they are not allowed to continue along the Path to Perfection! We cannot allow young ones with memories from outside the Order or, Force forbid, an older Initiate who has not been properly cultivated along the Path to become one with our group because they will be inevitably flawed! They will be contaminated by their connections to the World of the Flesh and will be destined to fail. They will probably make fine and upstanding Jedi but they will never be True Jedi! The Rot will consume the Flesh and the Tree will fall!” He thumped his stick against the floor once more, then leaned heavily on it, breathing hard after his lengthy speech.

“Oh. Uh…” Her head bobbed up and down. “Wow! That’s… Just wow.”

The old man was rubbing his forehead worriedly. “We are… trying to make…” His breath was laboured. “The most perfect Jedi we can. One free from anger and impurities, tireless and endlessly compassionate. A being completely empty of self, a true vessel for the Will of the Force. But that is unlikely to happen if the necessary children are not harvested.” He rubbed his wrinkled hand over his face and eyes once more. “I’m sorry. I can’t quite… remember what is that we were doing…”

Sera bent down so that Master Kenu could look her in the eye without straining his neck. “You’re escorting me to the chambers of the Jedi Council.” She pointed in the direction that she thought the chambers were. “My girlfriend is having a meeting with them and we’re on our way to meet her.”

“Girlfriend?” He chortled merrily, all thoughts of “the corruptions of the flesh” apparently gone from his mind. “Good for you! Not that that sort of thing is appropriate for a Jedi, of course, but it is good to know that the young people are out there wrangling enjoyment out of life.”

Sera laughed. “Would you like me to tell you about her while we go along?” She held out her arm for him to take.

“I would be delighted,” he said, using her arm to help steady himself as the started off once more. “Now, how did you two meet?”

~~~

The old man was flagging by the time they made their way up the last, painful step. You’d think with so many old farts in the Order that they’d put some benches and water fountains in the Temple. Pretty sure it's against some kind of regulation! Sera had asked if there was an elevator they could use but Master Kenu had told her that that would disturb the flow of energy around the Temple. He'd laughed uproariously when she had said that could fuck right off.

There was a fairly large landing in front of the doors leading into the Council Chambers with a single narrow, unpadded bench - Finally! - along the wall facing the top of the stairs. Sera had been beginning to wonder if sitting was against the Jedi Code. Still no water dispenser of any kind though. Not even a fucking vending machine. Do they expect their adherents to subsist upon the essence of the Universe? Were we expected to bring snacks? How are they even paying for all of this? Are my taxpayer credits going towards this??

“They won’t let you in,” Master Kenu muttered at her side.

“What?” She looked over to where he was glancing at and spied a young Padawan standing guard by the large set of doors, surveying her surroundings sternly as if waiting to be the rock upon which tides of enemies would be broken.

The old man was breathing heavily. “If they’ve set a guard on the doors, you won’t be able to just walk in, boy.”

“Hmm.” She pasted a pleasant smile on her face and led the two of them slowly towards the entranceway.

“Hello,” she started, raising her hand in greeting.

“No entry into the Council Chambers!” the young Padawan said, in what sounded like her most authoritative voice.

“Ah, no!” Sera waved her hand back and forth as if she were embarrassed. “I just wanted to know if that bench is free to use. My Master is tired from his walk and I wondered if he could rest a moment there.” Next to her, Master Kenu let out a helpful groan.

The Padawan’s eyes darted back and forth between the two of them suspiciously.

“You may sit on the bench…”

Sera brightened. “Thank you very much!”

“But you’re still not allowed into the Council Chambers!” the young one said as fiercely as they could muster.

“That’s perfectly alright. We just want to sit here a moment before we’re on our way.” She ducked her head gratefully. “Thank you again for your assistance.”

Sera could feel the kid’s watchful gaze burning into the back of her head as she manoeuvred Master Kenu towards the uncomfortable looking bench, removing her jacket and wadding it up to provide some padding between the hard wooden surface and the old man’s skinny backside.

“Thank you,” he said as he sat back with a groan. “What are we going to do? You’re going to miss your meeting if you can’t get through those doors.”

“Hmm... Master, would you mind playing dead for a moment?” she said as quietly as possible.

The old man chuckled throatily and winked at her so obviously that Sera hoped that the kid wasn’t as alert as they appeared to be. Then Master Kenu gave a sudden cry of pain that was so convincing that Sera leaned closer to make sure that he hadn’t actually had a heart attack. When it was apparent to her that he was still as healthy as he would ever be, she did her best to mask the relief that welled up in her and jumped to her feet.

“Master Kenu!” She turned to the young door guard, projecting as much alarm as she could. “Please! There’s something wrong with my master!”

The Padawan stared at Sera, then at Master Kenu’s slumped form and back to Sera, indecision and worry flitting across her face. Sera was starting to think that the kid wasn’t going to fall for it when she stepped forward hesitantly, glaring at Sera but moving steadily away from the door.

“What’s wrong with him?” Sera watched as the alert stance slowly dropped from the Padawan’s shoulders.

“I don’t know! He doesn’t seem to be breathing!” Standing aside to let the Padawan get a better look at the old Master, she waited until the girl bent down to begin her own inspection and walked to the entrance doors.

“He seems to be fi-- Hey, you can’t go in there!”

“Thank you!” Sera called as the doors slid closed behind her.

There was a long-ish hallway in front of her, not so narrow as to make one feel claustrophobic and with high vaulted ceilings that must have been meant to insulate the Council Chambers from the racket of the ecumenopolis around them ...and was doing absolutely nothing to contain the sound of her partner’s raised voice echoing off the solemn statues of long-dead philosophers and warriors, heads bowed in thoughtful contemplation, lining the walls on either side of her.

“I will not be silent, Masters! Do you have any idea what I nearly lost, what I have already lost because I was following your rules? I will never see my father again because of your rules!”

An unfamiliar voice made a response that Sera couldn’t quite make out.

“No, that’s not… You’re not listening to me…”

Sera strode quickly down the hallway, ignoring the rapid staccato of boots on a tiled floor, and had just made it to the far end of the hall when the young Padawan slammed herself in between Sera and the door.

“You cannot open this door!” the kid barked at her ferociously.

Sera reached around her and opened it.

The girl stared up at her, thunderstruck.

“You cheated!” she blurted out.

Sera grinned down at her. “I expanded the playing field.”

“You’re late, Padawan.” Master Vrook’s voice was testier than usual, which was saying something. Clearly the discussion was going swimmingly. “Rebi, let her inside already.”

The younger Padawan gaped at Master Vrook in betrayal, then reluctantly lowered her arm from between Sera and the entranceway and moved to the side, watching her with suspicion all the while.

Sera dug around in her pocket and pressed a wad of credits into her hand. “Here. Get something for yourself and the old codger back there. There’s a noodle bar just down the road that makes a really good summer vegetable bowl.”

“Padawan, if you are finished tormenting the younglings, please.”

The girl shot one last offended look at the older man before sliding down the hallway, keeping her eyes fixed on Sera as if her baleful gaze could keep this wayward interloper from causing further mischief. This didn't stop her from stuffing the money into the recesses of her robes as she departed though. Sera grinned. Maybe there's hope for the Jedi Order yet.

The heated discussion that she'd heard in the hall had been cut off the instant the door had opened. Bastila was standing in the centre of the circular room, her spine rigid and a frustrated set to her jaw. Now that they were in the same room it was easier for Sera to feel the barely contained rage bubbling inside her partner. But it is contained. In the past few weeks since she’d been rescued, Bastila had struggled with sudden outbursts of furious temper sneaking up on her, seemingly at random. Thankfully, none of their friends had been affected by it yet - Not that they wouldn’t be understanding, I think - but that didn’t stop the waves of shame and guilt that inevitably followed a meltdown. From what Sera had read, that was a fairly typical response to the kind of trauma Bastila had suffered and the nice therapist lady they’d been to had seemed to agree. It still wasn’t fun to watch her beloved struggling with emotions that no longer seemed to be her own.

Bastila let out a heavy sigh and shook her head in annoyance, tension uncoiling from her frame. The roiling emotions subsided, not gone completely but reduced to a level where they weren’t radiating out of her in angry spikes. Finally, she turned and smiled up at Sera still standing at the top of the stairs leading down into the chambers. Sera found herself fixed on the spot, grinning stupidly at the woman she’d, in truth, seen only a few hours earlier and whose side she hadn’t been away from in weeks. Sometimes she wasn’t certain if Bastila hadn’t cast some kind of Jedi spell over her to keep her in thrall all this time. She was constantly amazed that the spell appeared to be mutual, that this smart, funny woman - Sexy too, mmm… - was happy to spend copious amounts of time around her. Must be my rakish good looks. Sera nearly burst out laughing when Bastila rolled her eyes at her.

“We are not here to watch the two of you put on this lewd display,” a cold voice interrupted. “Come down here immediately and stop wasting our time.”

Sera blinked over at where the intrusion had come from. The chick from the Archives! “Hey! If you knew I had to be here, why the hell didn’t you give me directions? We could’ve come up here together.” She waved her hand indignantly in the direction that she’d just come. “Do you have any idea what it took to get here?”

“I don’t care what kind of fantasy you’ve created for yourself,” the icy woman continued. “We will not be taken in by your disingenuous falsehoods. The Jedi Council’s time is not to be wasted, least of all from you.”

“You let her wander around the Temple without a guide?” Her beloved’s fiery temper seemed to be rearing its head again. “What were you thinking? She’s never been to Coruscant, not that she can remember, anyway. She doesn't remember anything.”

“Atris, Bastila, this is neither the time nor the place for this conversation.” Master Vrook sighed. “Padawan, get down here! Don’t make me shout across the room.”

Sera slowly descended the few stairs into the circular pit of a room and joined Bastila in the centre of the ring of chairs next to a short stone pillar marking the centre of the circle. All of the chairs in the ring were filled with Jedi of all shapes and sizes, beings of great dignity and power. And Atris. She could feel the weight of their gazes pressing into her from all sides, the design of the room allowing her no reprieve from their scrutiny. Rolling her shoulders in an attempt to shrug off the feeling of a target painted on her back, Sera purposefully let her posture relax and droop a little, cocking her head as if she were doing nothing more important than waiting in a market for a vendor to wrap her purchase.

“Now that everyone is present and accounted for,” Vrook said with a stern glance at Atris. “Do you know why we have called you here,” he intoned solemnly.

“Because we’re quitting.” Sera turned to Bastila. “Right?”

She smiled. “That’s right. We’re quitting the Order to do something else. Something that we want to do.”

“No, Padawan, that’s not…” Vrook put his head in his hand and sighed heavily. There were a few murmurs of surprise from the Council members surrounding them with a heavy dose of intense examination underlying it all. “We called you here today concerning your Knighthood. We are here to decide whether we should allow your to ascend to your former rank or if you need to be fully re-educated under an appropriate Master, one fitting your history and experience. This has been a matter of great interest and debate to the Council, Padawan.”

Sera shrugged her shoulders. “No need. We’re leaving.” She flashed a winning smile with a snap of her fingers. “Problem solved!”

More murmurs. Vrook groaned into his hands and muttered something that sounded like, “You are trying to kill me, Padawan.”

“Do you seek to mock us, Revan?” Atris’ voice trembled with rage.

Sera sighed. That name again… “Did we have, like, a thing between us and I broke it off without saying anything because this is all feeling very personal,” she said, causing at least one Jedi Master to laugh.

“Sera, please, she has to be at least twice your age,” Bastila whispered, shaking her head, a pained expression on her face.

Atris was vibrating like a steel cable about to snap, her face impossibly even more pale. It was the most emotion Sera had seen from the frosty woman in the brief time that she had known her. “How dare you even suggest--!”

“Master Atris! Calm yourself!” Vrook snapped. “Padawan, will you please behave? This is a serious matter.”

“I am behaving!” Sera gestured towards herself indignantly. “Notice how I’m not mentioning that she started it?”

“I have half a mind to just expel you from the Order and be done with it,” he said sternly.

“Master, those kinds of threats don’t work when that’s exactly what I want. Come on, why are you fighting us over this?” she pleaded. “You can’t be that desperate for members to try and make us stay. With the war over, you’ll be flooded with kids wanting to be heroes for the Republic.”

An awkward stillness fell over the Council Chambers. “Of course not, Padawan. Don’t be foolish.”

Sera’s eyes widened as she caught some of the glances that the Masters were shooting one another. She thought of the lifeless hall after lifeless hall that she had passed through while searching for this very chamber, of Master Kenu’s complaint of his club thing folding, and of the odd, sneering remarks that she had heard from Republic soldiers and citizenry alike.

“Oh.”

Bastila snorted. “You cannot keep members if you insist on them cutting off all contact with their loved ones” She pointed an accusatory finger at the Council. “If you insist on tying their worth to their moral purity. Is it any wonder that nobody wants to be part of your Order anymore?” Her voice was shaking by the end of it, tears pooling in her eyes. Sera wrapped her arm around Bastila’s shoulders and pulled her close. Her beloved’s posture remained stiff with tension until the pent up emotions became too much and she buried her face into Sera’s neck to muffle her sobs.

“Look. We’ve got no real problem with the Jedi.” Bastila snorted wetly against Sera’s neck. “Most of the Jedi we know are good, honourable people worthy of the title. But that can’t be us anymore.”

A sombre man with an impressive moustache let out a sigh. “Are you sure there is nothing that we can do to change your mind? We are willing to overlook your relationship with Padawan Shan if you do.”

“We should let them go on their way.” It was Atris. Her voice was oddly placid. Sera frowned. Has she had a change of heart? But Master Vrook was also frowning at Atris suspiciously.

“I agree,” a blond human with a commanding voice said. “We wouldn’t want members who are not willing to give their all to the Order.”

“I would prefer to question them a little longer about their motivations for leaving but I suppose it can wait for another time,” the moustachioed man added.

Other members of the Council signalled their agreement, some throwing in mildly offensive or just plain rude remarks, a few adding well-wishes for the new path they were about to embark upon. But Sera kept her eyes on Atris, the neutral mask of the older woman’s face betraying no thought or emotion.

“I suppose that settles it,” Vrook said reluctantly. “The two of you are no longer members of our Order and will not be recognised as such for the rest of your days. Now go. You are no longer under our protection.”

“Thank you, Master. It has been an honour to know you.” And she meant it.

“Go on,” he said gruffly.

Dipping her head one last time with a smile, she turned and led both through the ring of chairs and up the steps. Just as she slid the door open and was about to leave, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Turning back, she Atris staring fixedly at her with cold, pitiless eyes. Then Bastila tugged her through the door and they were gone.

Bastila marched determinedly down the corridor, her head lowered and her steps heavy. Sera gently squeezed the hand holding hers tightly.

“You okay?”

Bastila let out a shaky breath and slowed. “They really know how to ruin a person’s day, don’t they?” she said, wiping at her puffy eyes and her stuffy nose. “I haven’t cried this much since I was four.”

Sera pulled her to a stop and dug around in her pocket until she found a spare napkin in her pocket.

“Need a moment?” she asked, handing Bastila the napkin and making a mental note to invest in a handkerchief.

Bastila took it with thanks and blew her nose with relief. When she was done, Sera leaned forward and pressed gentle kisses to her swollen eyelids.

“Mmm, that makes it all worth it,” she said softly, resting her forehead against Sera’s.

Sera slipped her arms around Bastila’s waist and nuzzled at her cheek. “Wanna go defile the Archives with a few lewd acts?”

That got a chuckle out of her girlfriend. “I’m fairly certain someone’s done that already.”

“That’s very enterprising of the younger members of the Jedi Order. Very proactive and forward-thinking.”

Bastila laughed lightly, worry dropping off her face. Then she bit her lip, tears welling up once more before she dashed them away. “They think I’m having a breakdown. That’s why they wouldn’t listen to me. They think that this,” she waved her hand, indicating her emotion-wracked being, “is merely unfettered emotion, the result of an ill-disciplined and impure mind. They don’t think that it means something, that it says something about them.”

Sera tightened her arms around Bastila’s waist, her heart breaking at her beloved’s pain. “I’m so sorry they didn’t listen to you. And I’m sorry I was so late and left you in there with them on your own.”

“I suppose it was bound to come out sometime.” She smiled sadly. “Come on. Their session won’t last much longer and don’t feel like being trapped in a narrow corridor with any of them.”

Sera agreed. She didn't want to meet the Archivist of the Jedi Order in an enclosed space either. They started off again, Sera with her arm draped over Bastila’s shoulders, Bastila with her arm around Sera waist. It felt good walking this way, side by side, intertwined.

“So what the fuck is Atris' deal?” she said, shivering a little thinking of the glint of malevolence she'd caught in the woman's eye.

Bastila made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Librarians! They spend to much time in the recesses of their Archives and they get like that. Although, I don't know why the Council still puts up with her when she acts like that. Unless she's blackmailing them with something.”

“Hmm…” Sera uttered with a backwards glance towards the Council Chambers.

“Never mind about them,” Bastila said, sliding her free hand across Sera’s stomach, fingers tracing slow patterns over the fabric of her shirt. “We never have to think about the Jedi ever again.”

Sera felt warmth pooling low in her stomach. She smiled. Two could play at that game. “And what would you rather think of, Ms Shan?” she said, trailing her fingertips down the column of her lover’s throat to caress her collarbone, delighting in the blush spreading across Bastila’s pale skin.

“I don’t know.” Bastila pressed a kiss to her cheek. “But we have all the time in the world to decide that for ourselves.”

The door to the landing slid open. The Padawan door guard froze, a crisply fried chunk of vegetable held guiltily halfway to her lips. Next to her on the skinny bench, Master Kenu was slumped back against the wall snoring loudly, a fizzy drink and a half-eaten sweet bean bun sitting abandoned in his lap. Sera grinned when the kid glared at her, watching with growing amusement as the kid’s eyes widened when she saw just who was blissfully wrapped up in this foul intruder’s embrace. Sera threw the kid a cheeky salute as Bastila led her in a different direction from the one she’d used earlier.

“What was that all about?” Bastila asked pulling away from Sera but still holding her hand so they could navigate the stairway without tripping over each other.

Sera cocked her head. “I, mm, might have used some subterfuge to get inside. It might have involved an old man feigning a mortal injury.” They reached the bottom of the stairs, the large entrance hall that she’d passed through when she reached the Temple stretching out in every direction around her. “Wait. That was a lot quicker than the route I took.” She felt her face redden with embarrassment.

“Yes, where did you go? You left before me this morning. Even with traffic, you should have arrived at the Council Chambers ahead of me.” Bastila poked her in the chest. “You left me alone in bed, Sera, to go play with some middle-aged weapons vendors instead of staying and keeping me warm. I hope you’re happy with your life decisions.”

Sera let out a laugh. “I bow to your superior wisdom, dear. Next time, I promise to stay home and snuggle with you.” She grimaced. “In hindsight, it was pretty stupid although I really didn’t think that the first person I asked for directions would turn out to be a weirdo.” She shrugged. “I ended up in, I don’t know, some corridor. They all look the same to me. I managed to stumble upon some special smart boys club for Jedi and the old guy there…” Recognised me as something else. “Um, kinda took a shine to me, I guess.”

Bastila narrowed her eyes in thought. “That was Master Kenu, correct? Of… oh.” Her little sigh of recognition made Sera’s chest tighten painfully. “But that’s on the complete opposite end of the Temple. How in the world did you end up there?” she said, thankfully not pressing the issue.

“I, uh…” Sera laughed at herself and then groaned, rolling her eyes. “I was trying to multitask by looking through the listings you’d highlighted while I walked. I had my eyes glued to my datapad for most of the walk like an idiot.” She fixed Bastila with a look. “Sewers, babe? Really?”

“It’s important work and it needs to be done,” she shot back, smacking Sera lightly in the stomach.

“There are creepy-crawlies in sewers!”

“The Republic can’t repopulate the planet until the sewage plant has been cleared and restored to full functionality.” She held up her hand as if claiming the moral victory.

“Uh-huh, and I suppose it has absolutely nothing to do with the ruins sitting just a few kilometres from said sewage plant?”

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.” Her denial was ruined somewhat by the faint blush on her cheeks and her refusal to meet Sera’s eye.

Sera’s laughter echoed through the empty hall until they crossed the small stretch of distance left to the large formal entranceway into the Temple and stepped into the frigid Coruscant air. The Senate had decided to implement an early winter on the planet in order to reduce general heating and weather control costs. Sera wasn’t certain if the move was motivated by genuine concern by the Republic’s rather large deficit or if it was purely symbolic but it was fucking cold in her opinion!

“Honey, where’s your jacket?” Bastila asked after the nth time Sera tried to glom onto her for warmth.

“It’s… Ah, shit!” she said, casting her mind back over the day’s events. “It’s under an old man’s ass.” She checked her chrono. “There’s no time to go back and get it, is there?”

“Not if we want to meet my mother on time.” Bastila raised an eyebrow at her. “I don’t think I need to tell you that she doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

“Right. Remind me to drop them a note later, will you?” she said with a flick of her hand towards the Temple. They were almost to the sidewalk where throngs of pedestrians went about their day, the Jedi Temple looming large over them all. Sera felt a shiver that had nothing to do with the too-low atmospheric temperature.

“Do you really think they’ll let us go? Just like that?” she said anxiously, her eyes fixed on the spire that contained the Jedi Council Chambers, the sense of oppressive watchfulness still with her.

Bastila pulled her head down until their gazes met. “What possible use could the Jedi Council have for a pair of ordinary Republic citizens?”

Sera smiled and leaned forward, taking Bastila in her arms and kissing her in full view of the entire city and the symbol of the Order’s might.

“Thanks, love,” she said, affectionately stroking Bastila’s cheek.

“Come on,” Bastila said, taking her hand and pulling her into the sea of people. “We have the rest of our lives ahead of us.”

~~~

EPILOGUE

Sera Khan left many messages at the Jedi Temple asking after the whereabouts of her jacket. Master Atris, who had apparently returned to her grumpy self, coldly informed Sera that they were aware of no such thing and that they wouldn’t be taken in by any of her ploys. Master Kenu was having another one of his episodes and couldn’t remember even meeting her, let alone resting his weary backside on an article of her clothing. In the end, she gave in and bought another one, one that her partner seemed to find her incredibly sexy in if the heated looks she received were any indication.

It was said, however, that a young Padawan by the name of Rebi, who frequently had door duty for the Jedi Council, was occasionally spotted hanging around a local noodle bar wearing a jacket that matched its description, ordering the vegetable bowl with a wink and a salute to the waitresses. Such reports could not be confirmed and the Padawan in question vehemently denied any such behaviour or to practising her rebellious slouch in front of the mirror before saber practice.

~Finished!~ :DDD