Chapter Five of 'Battlefront'...

And now, Chapter Five. Again, please enjoy.
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GAMMA CHAPTER

Office Of The Supreme Chancellor Of The Galactic Republic, Coruscant.

Her Eminence The Supreme Chancellor Giran Lathan-Vec strode over to one of the three-meter-tall transparisteel viewports that lined the far wall of her immense office suite and overlooked the jewel-like splendor of Galactic City. She regarded the scene below with quiet reserve as she sipped from her steaming mug of chiff'a, a habit she undertook every morning since the beginning of her political career more than seventy Standard years earlier. For eighteen stuchla you have weathered the storms, she began her ritualistic invocation with an intake of pride, and yet you still remain in all your magnificence. Through it all, I am proud to serve as your regent, if that means at the very least continuing to uphold those sanctified traditions which have helped preserve the peace and the trust we have engendered for so long.

It came to her as a surprise a moment later when Giran noticed her reflection shift to a mask of subdued pensiveness. As she searched within herself as to its source, she was further mystified to find that it lacked even the slightest definition, like an ancient, obscured Acrinocynth sculpture. She also found that, in spite of its concealment, the anomaly possessed a great deal of substance and power and raw malevolence. It was because of this that its existence would eventually be revealed, and soon. How it would emerge was going to be the real spectacle, and Giran feared that its emergence would threaten the very infrastructure of the Republic.

Giran sharply arched an eyebrow a moment later when the annunciator-chime resounded with a quiet double-gong. Her present state of worry became even more attenuated as she reflected upon how much she hated that particular sound; on her native Firrere, such a rhythm was used only to announce the passing of a loved one, especially if the individual was somebody of note. The chime was one of the few existing holdovers from the previous administration, lead by the musically inclined and able-bodied Vennadi Alcoyt of Wukkar, whose death thirty-seven years before left Giran with this office, its duties and as well as its occasional intrigues. Despite her annoyance and, although she hated mentioning it, even to herself, fear of the sound, Giran considered it an honor to her predecessor's memory each time it did ring out. "Time is being wasted the longer you continue to loiter, gentlemen," the Supreme Chancellor addressed the door resolutely as she faced it, putting on a cocky half-smile for good measure.

Vice-Chancellor Aldus Valorum of Harchonnal grinned appreciatively as he preceded Senior Senator of the Republic Ibani'Rogath and Giran's personal aide Kymarin-Dal-Edor into the office suite. "Clear Skies to you, too, love," he began by way of greeting. He thumbed behind himself as he continued. "I still get a rise when I keep reminding these chaps about how much style you have with folks. Maybe some day they'll finally wise up and take heed."

Ibani'Rogath's translucent golden form shimmered beneath the lights as he faced Valorum in a gesture of pure dismissal. "Speak for yourself," he stated in a voice so atonal and flat as to be considered emotionless. Like most of his species, the Nan-Nel of Belogelius Pi, Ibani'Rogath possessed scant ability in the area of intuitive thinking and thus took everything said to him in a very literal sense.

"It's quite all right, Senator," Giran countered, raising a hand in supplication. "As you well know, our good friend Mister Valorum often enjoys the occasional jest, especially if it is to our disadvantage." Her brows knitted as she scrutinized the group. "Where's Councilor Lyto?"

The four-toned Kymarin-Dal-Edor of Xurchis promptly spoke up, his voice cool and even. "Councilor Lyto called ten minutes ago to remind you that she would be attending the Ceremony of Ascension at the Jedi Temple this morning."

Chancellor Lathan-Vec pinched the bridge of her nose in disgruntlement. "I knew that," she admitted, with no small amount of humility. She subsequently sighed as she returned her gaze to the view outside. "Blessed Goddess, how I wish for those days back when something someone told me or things I planned for stuck with me for at least a week before I forgot them." She dropped her head in a humorless laugh. "Maybe this job is getting the best of me," she muttered to no one in particular.

"It's called life, love," Aldus Valorum quipped easily. "It happens to all of us in some form or another, sooner or later."

"True," Giran breathed aloud, "but it's a damned risk in this profession." She extended a hand towards the nearby corner table used for intimate gatherings. The three men promptly assumed their respective places as Giran herself took her seat at its head. "All right, Plenicate Dal-Edor, let us in on where the hot spots in the Republic are today."

Kymarin activated his portable data-ledger and started in. "There's nothing major to report along the service flash-traffic or holo-net lines, which is the good news. The Callan Amendment to the V'E'Nigoth Bill and the Walonduli Repatriations Pact are scheduled to go before the Finance Commission at Zero Nine-Hundred Standard Time. However, several senators assigned to the Repatriations sub-committee remain unconvinced that they will be able to get the pact past the evaluation stage."

"Sounds like the rantings from the Konok Consolidation have got everyone over a barrel," Aldus Valorum nearly harrumphed as he poured himself a cup of chiff'a from the carafe at the center of the table. "They were the ones who benefitted most from the discord between the Walonduli and the Ikon'o, since it came to light that they were secretly supplying the Ikon'o with both non-transitioned funds and artillery in exchange for priority consideration in the exportation of beta-lytalyseine from Zapratec Prime, and thus gaining them control of the pharmaceutical firm controlled by both factions.".

"The Egrodath are hoping that by stalling they can cause the statute of limitations to expire," Giran exhaled, her breath rank with the bitterness she felt toward the aliens' underhandedness. "But I'm not willing to settle for that. Kymarin, have the Repatriations sub-committee delay until Noon tommorow. When they do reconvene, we'll have them throw the Unal Act at everyone and seal the matter right then-and-there." The Unal Act was one of those official sanctions requiring the signature of the Supreme Chancellor in order to authorize specific legalities; through this endeavor, Giran would throw her full weight behind the Repatriations Pact and give the arrogant Egrodath a much-needed lesson in humility. "Next situation."

Kymarin continued reading. "The Merchants' Guild is meeting with the Industrial Commission at Zero Eight-Four-Five to discuss the sudden rash of crop anomalies present in Antula Sector."

"What in Hell's the problem now--?" This was from Vice-Chancellor Valorum. It was apparent from the man's exasperation that this particular area was a very ancient and perpetuating source of misfortune.

"According to the preliminary reports, several major staple-producing regions are experiencing the effects of rapid cellular deterioration," Ibani'Rogath interjected prudently. "Based upon cursory evaluation of those reports, the source of this plague appears to be an exotic virogen spore that was originally exclusive to the world of Gethromeer. While undergoing the process of reverse-engineering in the attempt to re-adapt it as a botanical restorative agent, the virus somehow escaped its laboratory habitat and worked itself back into the biosphere, where it immediately proceeded to wreck havoc on the produce fields." The foremost congressional representative of the Nan-Nel inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment to Aldus Valorum's subsequent expression of curiosity. "I am chairing that particular session, if you are wondering why I know so much on the matter."

"How extensive is the damage thus far, Ibani?" asked Giran, intrigued.

"Potentially devastating, Madame Chancellor," Ibani'Rogath continued. "As of this gathering, the spore has since mutated itself to the point where it is now spaceborne. Bandomeer, Alydayne and fifteen other worlds throughout the Antula Sector are showing signs of infestation as well."

"Damned scary, if you ask me," mumbled Aldus Valorum following the obligatory silence. "The conglomerates running those fields are going to have one hell of a mess when the time comes to tally the annual profit margins."

"What will be even worse, Tate, is the calamity that will result if that blight isn't stopped in time," Giran said to Valorun, referring to him by his middle name. "Not only will the Republic have lost a key agricultural zone, but as that virus continues mutating it may eventually ease itself into the faunal population. And what then?" She shifted her gaze to Ibani'Rogath the instant full registration dawned on the vice-chair. "Ibani, I want full details on that meeting after it’s concluded. I also want you to pass along to the Merchants' Guild that whatever assistance they may require of the Industrial Commission, they will also have the support of the Primary Commission."

"Acknowledged, Madame Chancellor," Ibani stated with assurance as he gave Giran a curt bow of the head. "They will be most pleased to hear that."

With a gesture from Giran, Kymarin-Dal-Edor continued. "The Houpra Delegation from Karnas Minor is due to arrive downplanet within the hour. As was previously requested, Col-Venkamft, the leader of the delegation, has asked for a private audience with both you and Senator McKarthi Inouye of the Trade Federation at your earliest convenience, which you have already granted for Eleven-Two-Three Standard Time."

The businesslike mood was broken by the sound of dry chuckling as Giran and Valorum exchanged bemused looks. The Supreme Chancellor then flicked a finger at her senior aide as a wry grin stretched the corners of her mouth. "Check your list for items of interest."

Kymarin did just that, scrolling through the ledger until he found the one thing that did indeed stand out amongst the rest. "Here's something. According to their cargo manifest, the Houpra are carrying twenty-seven kilotons of diburnadium chrysalite and ganthracyte ore, which is apparently due to be delivered to the Trade Federation's Science-And-Technology Convocation sometime following the meeting." The young Lepolid's double eyebrows raised at that. "Most interesting."

"And all the more blatant when you realize the true meaning behind it, Kymarin," Giran exclaimed as she shook her head in disbelief. "Both the diburnadium and the ganthracyte are payment to the Trade Federation for concessions made by it on behalf of the Houpra, the bulk of which surrounds their involvement with several major construction projects which were underwritten by the Finance Commission and fielded by Federation bureaucrats. Both the Federation and Houpra hope that through this last action the Houpra can at last buy their way into the Galactic Republic, particularly in the role of influential benefactors."

Giran's already-venomous expression became even more piqued as a subversive gleam flashed briefly into her flame-colored eyes. "However, since the Houpra Conundrum operates on several planes that are ethically and morally divergent from the Republic's purview, this venture and whatever further requests they may make of us will be rejected… outright." She lightly but pointedly slapped the tabletop to drive her point home. "We profusely thank the Houpra for what assistance they have given, but we just don't play by that kind of underhandedness. No."

"The Nemoidians are not going to take kindly to that, Giran," Ibani'Rogath stated bluntly.

"As long as they keep to procedure, which they always do whenever the heat's on, I don't care if they file complaint after complaint in protest," Giran snapped. "As with the Egrodath, this office and its duties represent our peoples' highest ideals and the law will not be broached on this matter." Without looking at Kymarin she intoned, "Next."

Kymarin shifted in his seat, somewhat taken aback in discomfort to the Supreme Chancellor's sudden heat. "There is one final item, Your Eminence. This just came in on the general docket before we convened. It's a priority transcript from Ambassador Pyrett's office stating that he's being called away on a contingency mission to Roonibar, but it doesn't state a reason why or even a duration note."

The three gentlemen at the table noted with surprise as their leader underwent a startling and abrupt distancing, as if her entire awareness had been inexplicably drawn to another place and time. She remained like this for a long while, becoming more and more oblivious to the outside world as her focus continued to intensify.

Deep inside the Supreme Chancellor's mind, her psyche roiled like a blazing inferno. Like a videocassette of a motion picture that's been left on fast-forward, the scenes played themselves out with rapacious abandon-- war, mass hysteria, political unrest, violent sub-humanoid creatures, veiled, shadowy figures in dark cloaks, and blood-- lots of blood. She moaned low in response as the movie picked up at a manic pace, racing to the point where it threatened to overwhelm her senses.

After a brief exchange of terse glances with his fellow politicos, Aldus Valorum himself volunteered for the risky task of reviving his leader. With great care, he gently placed a hand on Giran's shoulder and shook it firmly but gently. "Giran."

At the exact moment where her emotional threshold was reached, the Supreme Chancellor calmly but firmly placed the tip of her finger to the bridge of her nose until the riot subsided to a manageable level. As she mustered the most lackluster of smiles, the diminished quality of her voice spoke volumes. "I'm all right, gentlemen." She forced more of an edge into her voice as she followed, "Just faded out there for a second. My apologies."

Ibani'Rogath and Kymarin-Dal-Edor inclined their heads uneasily as Valorum continued on. "It's fine, love. We were just wondering where you'd gone, that's all." He bit the tip of his tongue as he immediately regretted saying that-- humor was the last thing that should have been attempted after what had just happened.

"Farther than I should have ever gone," Giran followed pointedly, her acknowledgment of her vice-chair's foiled jibe revealing that her own sense of humor wasn't totally out of sync. Sipping from her chiff'a mug once again in the attempt to soothe out her nerves, Giran decided to chase down a tack. "Mister Dal-Edor, what do we know in particular about the Roonibar system?"

Kymarin cross-coded his ledger to the chamber's library access node, bringing up the required cursory information in an instant. "The system is composed of thirteen worlds, seven terrestrial, two gas and four ice giants orbiting a quartiary-Cepheid group in the Archon Sector of the Mid-Rim, where the Osander Belt joins with the Canantrel Ledge. Socio-economic level is Class Delta-One, governmental structure is Fafreluchal, classification Gamma-Three. Major exports are in inert lytalin and vendi fruit." Kymarin's brows arched sharply as he found a particular footnote. "There's a reference to some involvement with the Jedi Knights that dates back almost 350 years, but the specifics on the situation have been placed under privacy seal by order of the Council Of Masters."

Ibani'Rogath leaned back in his chair as he surmised the information at hand. "Whatever that was, it must have been calamitous for the Masters to enforce such an action." He subsequently stroked his nearly invisible flaxen beard in a great pronouncement of perplexion. "Given that, it makes me curious as to why Ambassador Pyrett would avail himself and thus the Republic with a world whose people are clearly of a barbaric nature."

"They musn't be all that bad, Ibani," Giran arched her own eyebrow in response, her voice returning to its normal pitch. "We do trade with them."

"Nevertheless," the Nan-Nel countermanded petulantly, "this sudden focus on a non-aligned world without previous appraisal or explanation merits our deepest attention, Madame Chancellor."

Giran nodded. "I'm forced to agree with you, Senator. However, before we commit ourselves to any rash actions, I want as much background as possible. Kymarin, I'm authorizing you to request the Council Of Masters to release us their information on Roonibar. Likewise, I want you to make researching the matter top-priority once the information's in-hand." Her voice rose a few octaves as she followed with everyone in closing, "In the meanwhile, gentlemen, our Republic needs our guidance, and we must now attend our duties. Dismissed."

As the table cleared, Giran Lathan-Vec returned to the spot where she stood in front of the transparisteel viewport that overlooked Galactic City. She nearly grinned a moment later when she noticed Valorum's reflection as he alone remained, the lean mask of concern very clear on his face. "Just can't stand to see someone suffer, can you, Tate?"

Aldus Taton Valorum moved to join Giran at the observation port as his worry eased into a warm smile. "Again, your powers of review are most acute, Madame Chancellor." A mild hardness came into the man's eyes as some of his discomfort returned. "Tell me the truth, Giran. What's wrong? And don't lie-- you look as if a million bradyhawks are about to flay you to the bone at the slightest instant."

Giran chuckled at the reference as she proceeded to reveal part of what she was truly feeling to Valorum, an individual whom she considered both a good friend and a close confidante. "It's this damned Roonibar thing, Tate. For the past two weeks, I've been having the attacks of the 'fugues' over it. It's been a great amorphousness that’s kept after me day after day, sometimes keeping me up part of the night some nights. It wasn't until Kymarin put a name to it just now that it became more definite, more tangible." She released another long, slow breath. "And, obviously, very terrifying."

Giran sighed heavily as she sipped some more chiff'a. "All of my senses are screaming out to me that this thing is some kind of trap, and it's one that might drag us all under a cesspool if we're not quick enough to stop it." Her mouth formed a tight grimace as she fully faced Valorum. "Again, I find myself forced to agree with Ibani-- the damndest peculiarity out of all this is Cyril Pyrett's involvement in it. It doesn't matter that I've never cared for the man or his remoteness or the shadowy way in which he has always done his business, but the son-of-a-bitch knows damned well about directly informing the Primary Commission before undertaking a crisis protocol, especially when dealing with free-ranging governments." She swallowed hard as a knot of tension swelled in her stomach. "Maybe I might be a little paranoid, but I've always sensed that there wasn't something quite right about him."

Aldus Valorum smirked as he turned his gaze towards Galactic City. "I'll grant you this, love-- Pyrett's always been sort of an odd duck, but he's always played by the rules and, even more important, he gets results most of the time." He paused a moment as he sighed in reflection. "Well, at least now there's a reason as to why I haven't heard from Skeet in the last few days."

Giran was taken aback by this. "You mean to tell me that Finn's working for that maniac?" This revelation particularly frightened Giran; in certain close circles amongst those politicians whom had worked for it in the past, the Arbiter-General's office was purported to be something of a madhouse. Macabre tales of tightly-structured, round-the-clock work schedules were common, with everything scrutinously micro-managed by Pyrett himself, who was known to sleep for only three hours every day and was said to be wantonly ruthless with those who did not match his level of absolute perfection. As was the wont, the office had one of the highest rates of attrition in all the known institutions of the Galactic Republic. Giran was so startled she forgot to smile when she recalled the first time she met Young Finis Valorum as a six-year-old youngster attending his very first Congressional Session in the company of his father, then the senatorial representative of Harchonnal. She particularly recalled the rapt fascination with which the child observed the member bodies arguing over and occasionally resolving their various points of contention. "It's a good thing to hear he's still alive."

Valorum laughed at that. "I understand your concern, love, but Skeet says he's as happy as a well-settled Hutt working there. You should know him by now, Giran-- the boy grooves under pressure, and the more there is of it, the more he can't get enough of it." There was a note of paternal pride in Aldus Valorum's voice as he continued, grinning softly. "When we spoke last, he had made the decision to finish his Articles tour as a landsman with the office. He's also mapping out his plan as to how many years it will take him to get into the Senate, if you can believe that."

"It probably won't be much longer after that before he makes Chancellor," Giran nodded, pleased with the boy's ambitious foresight. It was then that she then struck upon something. "Tate, there's something I'd like to ask of you. When he contacts you next, I want you to establish him as a go-between for us as long as he's with Pyrett. It would be a great benefit if we had a close source in this situation."

"You don't think I've already thought of that, Chancellor?" Aldus Valorum said with a bright smile that conveyed that he, too, considered the same action. "It'll be done if and only if on one condition, love-- you've got to promise me you are not going to void out again for at least the next sixteen hours." Although his voice carried in it a tone of mirth, his eyes flashed briefly in admonition; there would be no shilly-shallying accepted here.

Giran raised her mug in a salute as she bowed her head in mock submission. "Message received and understood, O Holy Majesty." She looked back up as she then added, "I just hope I can manage not to disappoint anybody… too badly."

Aldus Valorum grinned widely as he returned Giran's salute with a jaunty wave. "Then I shall leave you to your duties, Madame Chancellor, such as they are." With a quick pivot on his heel, Valorum quickly strode from the chamber.

Upon the very instant she was totally alone, Supreme Chancellor Giran Lathan-Vec surrendered herself fully to the terror that she kept physically hidden from Aldus Valorum, lest he continued to be a bother when she could ill-afford it, which happened to be right now. She rested her full weight against the viewport's pane as she closed her eyes against the raging torrent of images; she would have preferred speaking about this to her other good friend Bin'Ela Lyto, whose unique sensibilities and insights enhanced by the ever-present and mysterious Force made the most seemingly impossible obstacle or incongruity crystal-clear in an instant. It was that clearness-of-focus that Giran needed, and she needed it desperately.

( * * * )


The Council Chamber Of The Masters, The Jedi Temple.

Dressed in appropriate livery for the occasion, Colna Ardaugh entered the Great Hall as she moved through the crowd that had also come to see the formal coronation of Sirette Rivossa and Q'Mia Banocles. She noted with interest that several of those present were people of prominince within the Order; among these notables included the famed civil rights litigator Qu'O'Har Turvis of the Quarren Nation of Mon Calamari, Republicswoman Angar Mulumnb of Sullust, Rear Admiral Noljane Kesper of Corellia and the one individual Colna knew of best, personally as well as professionally-- Moderator Of The Congress Bin'Ela Lyto, a raven-and-silver haired matron from the world of Alsakan.

Colna’s senses instantly went on the alert as she felt a familiar presence approaching from behind. “Greetings, Colna.”

Colna put on an easy smile as she faced Q’Mia Banocles, who was now clad in the traditional clean sand-and-brown vestments of a full Ma’ardi Valkyrie. “Hello, Q’Mia,” the younger woman responded warmly enough; the friction from that peculiar evening visit a few days back still had its indelible mark upon her psyche. “Those robes look good on you,” she nodded, genuinely impressed. “Ready to prove yourself in the larger world, are we?”

Q’Mia inclined her head in gratefulness. “You humble me, Colna. However, the way I see it, it’s just another step up the ladder of success.” She flashed that bothersome smile again as she continued, “But, then again, there is always an equivalent amount of success to share with others.”

This made Colna fully turn about. “How do you mean, Q’Mia?”

Q’Mia’s smile widened. “I’m referring to dreams, pui’Dai.” She grinned as she called Colna by the pet name she used for her since childhood. She subsequently placed a hand on Colna’s bicep. “Aspirations that will at last be realized.”

Colna felt the first twinges of a real, unimpeded fear build inside her just as Sirette materialized at her side, resplendent in her own new woven raiment. “Hey, heart. Glad to see you finally make it to the party,” she said to her old friend as she flashed Colna a hearty grin. She immediately noted the hand on Colna’s arm as she promptly added, “Seems some folks are still hard at it trying to get their point across, ain’t they?”

Q’Mia’s hand dropped from Colna’s arm as the two rivals once again locked eyes and wits. “At least I’m honest with myself, Sirette.”

Sirette’s eyes flashed in acknowledgment to the challenge, and she took a step forward. “Time will tell, Q’Mia. Time will tell.”

Colna watched as both women glared at each other, their expressions growing sharper and colder as the other tried to face her opposite number down through their sheer force of will. The game did not last long, however, and it was Q’Mia who backed away from the other two women , her eyes remaining locked on Sirette’s until she switched on her heel and merged into the crowd.

Colna sidled next to Sirette as she now wore a pie-eyed face of intense disgust. “Let it go, Sirette. It’s too big a day for the both of you, and neither of you deserves the friction.” It took a moment for Sirette to let go of her anger , and when she was in control of herself again, Colna continued on safer ground. “This is quite some turnout for this particular little shindig, Colna confessed in undisguised amazement. "I hadn't realized it was going to be so important."

Sirette responded with her usual jocular candor. "Well, if you consider the fact that some of these folks haven't seen the light of day from this vantage point in at least the last sixty-odd years, it does make some sense." Her smile widened as she pointed to something not far off in the distance. "Take a look at that."

Three meters away, Young Qui-Gon Jinn stood in a clearing all his own away from the larger group, looking as proud and tall as mortally possible for one his age. Docent Edwinya Bayn, the prioress of the Jedi Academy, was positioned immediately behind Qui-Gon in her role as golan, or watcher of the young neowan for the padawan acclimation ceremony that would immediately take place following the coronation. The tyke appeared prudently regal in his own brown robes, his pet li'ifu, or baby ysalamiri, known lovingly by the name Mot-Mot draped prominently over one shoulder like a well-festooned mink. The stolid expression on his face left little doubt that he was at that moment envisioning himself as to how a true-born padawan apprentice should appear before joining with his master.

"Now that one's a keeper for posterity," Colna observed with a grin of her own. "Makes me wish I'd thought to bring the holoproj recorder from the suite."

It was then that Colna took notice of another group who, like Qui-Gon and Docent Bayn, stood in a clearing all their own. The initial reason she noticed them was due to the rich obsidian cloaks they wore about their shoulders, which were further decorated by military-style braid and other insignia. Colna instantly recognized this as the traditional dress uniform worn by the Gawain Defendership, a special-tasks organization made up of both Jedi Knights and Ma’ardi Valkyries who were entirely under the aegis of the Supreme Chancellor. Roving the galaxy for the most part as adventurers and scientists while working at times in tandem with various police and other militia groups as needed, it was said that the Gawains, as they were more commonly known, were superlative detectives and counter-operational specialists and, if mandated by the Supreme Chancellor herself with the blessing of the Council Of Masters, the Gawains could execute 'specific modalities', or covert tactics that were, at best, left undiscussed. This was the cause of much debate amongst many within the Order, since such activities, on occasion, skirted the very understructure upon which the Republic was founded and passed dangerously close to the edge of the Dark Side of the Force. The concern was so great that even some of the Masters themselves, the most vocal of them being Arch-Master Yoda, were considering a way of suggesting to the Supreme Chancellor a way of dissolving the group entirely at some point in the future, lest some, or, even more unfortunately, all the Gawains ended up being devoured by the Dark Side due to their own inscrutability. It impressed Colna that after 300 years in service to the Republic, not a single Gawain Defender had yet succumbed to the madness of the Great Dark thus far, a testament to both the high standards of the Defendership and the quality of people who served faithfully in it.

The second reason Colna noticed the Gawains was due to the attention she was receiving in turn by the sole female in the group, a youthful-looking woman in her early forties whose eyes were banded over by a thin strip of cloth in the style of one descended from the Miraluka, sightless humanoids who nevertheless 'saw' through the Force. The woman instantly flashed Colna a warm smile upon recognition, and Colna in response felt the thrill of anticipation shoot up her spine as the older woman visage struck a chord deep within her, one she was surprised to discover was full of a sense of vague familiarity.

Colna's train of thought was broken as the attendance chime trilled softly, capturing everyone's attention. The entire assembly promptly gathered itself as they formed ranks and bowed reverently as one person to the multi-national cadre of twelve elders who were entering the Great Hall.

Appearing very much like an immense praying mantis ensconced by an armor of ebony chitin, Great Mother T’Pahn Nirette-Shiraez of the world of Thyferra raised a foreclaw in acknowledgment as she and her brethren quickly assumed their respective places within the Great Circle. “To all that are present,” the elderly Aschern-Vratix leader of the Council of the Order addressed the assembly in her oddly-musical multi-faceted voice once everybody had straightened up, “this gathering is now in session.” The wizened Ma’ardi’s voice rose an octave as she continued. “Paladin Sirette Rivossa, Paladin Q’Mia Banocles, you may come before us.”

Sirette and Colna exchanged quick glances before Sirette hustled over to the appropriate spot. She was joined by Q’Mia en route, and the two rivals regarded each other with subdued wariness as they both knelt down upon the ceremonial blazon and directly before the two senior-most elders who sat at the apex of the Great Circle.

“Paladin Sirette, Paladin Q’Mia,” the High Matriarch went on, “this council has observed your progress in the execution of your individual benocque engagements, and it is only fitting that you should be apprised of our decision.” Great Mother T’Pahn paused momentarily as she regarded the equally-wizened impish jade figure who sat to her immediate left, who returned her look with a nod as he took up from where she had left off.

“With distinction it is,” the Jedi Master known as Yoda began, “that you are both elevated to the level of Ma’ardi Valkyrie, along with the duties entitled to your new station.” Although the old one said it with a straight-enough face, there was a faint but unmistakable edge of pensiveness in his voice, as if he wasn’t so sure about the decision.

T’Pahn raised a foreclaw to the younger women in admonition. “As you are now vanguards of the Galactic Republic, you must both always remember the importance of those whom we always serve, and the greater importance still to the path of the Great Light, of which we all must adhere. It is by knowing that and by trusting the power of the Force that we can prevent the onslaught of darkness.” T’Pahn leaned forward as her next words were spoken haltingly, with an edge. “This also means that the both of you will have to set aside your differences, whatever they may be, and learn to cooperate.” A short pause for effect. “Am I made perfectly clear?”

Sirette and Q’Mia briefly regarded each other pensively before mutually responding in the affirmative. “We hear, we comprehend and we obey, Great Mother.”

The Vratix’s triangular head bobbed in a nod of acknowledgment. As she gestured for them to rise and step aside, Yoda turned his attention to the larger crowd. “Neowan Qui-Gon Jinn, Paladin Colna Ardaugh, step forward you may.”

So amazed was Colna at hearing her own name that she initially only imagined it being mentioned; it was only when she felt herself moving in tandem with Little Qui-Gon that she realized that she had also been summoned. What in the name of Space was going here? she wondered to herself as she and Qui-Gon glided to a halt before the grand elders and bowed before them.

“Like your brethren before you,” Yoda continued, gesturing to the newly-elevated Ma’ardi Valkyries who were now in a clearing by themselves, “also have we watched your performance as well.” The old jade imp turned first to Qui-Gon. “Qui-Gon Jinn, only six hundred times has it been since the founding of the Order that one as young as yourself has been selected for padawan training.” He paused a moment, noting the surge of anticipation inside the youngster’s eyes. “However, aware must you be that rigorous is the life of a padawan learner and difficult at times it can also be, much like the life of a Jedi Knight. Willing to accept this challenge are you?”

Young Qui-Gon stood up a little straighter, met the diminutive Jedi Master eye-to-eye and did not pull any punches. “I do, my master.” Mot-Mot the Li’ifu chirped pointedly for good measure.

Yoda and the other elders nodded approvingly as the old Jedi turned to the small collective of Gawain Defenders. “De’Nim Windu, come forward and claim your padawan apprentice, now you may.”

Colna watched with mostly-internalized awe as the most attractive black human prince with his long tresses set in the penuchlian-hairstyle of his native world of Verodeen strode into view with great confidence and respectfully saluted the Elders in the crisp, military-style snap-bow of the Defendership. He subsequently afforded Qui-Gon a more temperate bow, which the boy staunchly returned. Although it had been quite some time since she had last seen his presence inside the gilded halls of the Academy, not to mention that he had also grown half a head taller and lost a few kilos as well, Colna thought the changes made De’Nim Windu look ravenously beautiful. This caused the smile she already had on her face to stretch into a brilliant grin.

De’Nim came down upon one knee before Qui-Gon Jinn as he placed his right hand upon the youngster’s chest and recited to Declaration of Attainment from memory. “I, Alyot De’Nim Windu, do solemnly and proudly accept the honor of consigning you, Qui-Gon Jinn, as my padawan apprentice. I will do all that is within my power to teach you all that I know, so that you will become that which you are destined to be.”

As he had been taught only days earlier by Docent Bayn, a now-bursting Qui-Gon Jinn placed his own hand upon De’Nim’s chest as he finished the ritual with as much panache as he could muster. “I, Qui-Gon Jinn, dutifully accept you, Alyot De'Nim Windu, as my padawan master. I will learn all that you bring before me, so that I will become worthy of your name.” The tyke was in for a surprise a moment later when De’Nim scooped him up into his arms in a warm embrace, revealing his absolute delight at having Qui-Gon as his student.

Great Mother T’Pahn’s mandibles twitched in a fashion that could only be referred to as a grin. “There are no doubts that you will succeed, young one,” she told Qui-Gon as she placed a foreclaw atop Yoda’s shoulder. “As time has proven, some of my former students have gone on to great heights and done particularly well for themselves.” Yoda’s head bobbed in a modestly humble laugh as the barest of smiles creased his lips.

T’Pahn subsequently regarded Colna as she resumed with the formalities. “Paladin Colna Ardaugh, it gives me pleasure to admit before this gathering that you are one of our most distinguished neowan teachers in the brief five seasons since you first graced that position. Having once been myself where you are now, I am sympathetic to the particular challenges brought about by working with our youngest brethren. They can be headstrong and impudent at times, but they nevertheless bring delight to our lives. Do you not agree?”

“It is of a certainty, Great Mother,” Colna nodded with sublime but unabashed pride as she briefly noted Qui-Gon Jinn’s presence. “I thank you in turn for the honor of recognizing my progress,” she followed in kind, inclining her head deferentially as the part of her that glimpsed into T’Pahn’s overt elusiveness waited for the other shoe to drop.

Fortunately, she did not have long to wait as the eldest of the Ma’ardi continued. “During the close of our last general session three days ago, Sirette Rivossa approached us with an appeal she mentioned she was making on your behalf.” Another short pause. “It was requested that upon your time of ascension we forego your right of benocque attainment in favor of something more communal—the choice of also allowing you to become a padawan learner.”

As T’Pahn said this, Q’Mia flashed a tight glare of derision at Sirette as the corners of the Corellian Valkyrie’s mouth curled into a grin, her eyes remaining fixed upon Colna.

Colna’s own gaze slid over to Sirette as well as she easily sensed her old friend’s joyful amusement, the slight arching of her eyebrow the only expression of her overwhelming excitement to this wholly sought-after change of events in her life. Some way, somehow, I am going to get you back for this little surprise, Sirette, the look clearly said. But for right now, I am going to relish this moment.

T’Pahn cocked her head as she herself gleaned from Colna’s pleasure. “It would appear you are receptive to this offer, Colna Ardaugh.”

Colna released some of her elation through a kindly smile. “Well, given the fact that it’s always been one of my passions, I’d have to be a complete imbecile to turn it down."

There was muted laughter throughout the chamber as T’Pahn nodded her assent. “That is a most prudent line of reckoning, Colna Ardaugh.” She faced the group of Gawains. “Lady je’Hanna Colvain, you may approach.”

Colna was internally struck dumb by the brief flash of pain that crossed Yoda’s eyes as she also noticed, now with fascination, the Miralukan female who had smiled at her earlier emerge from her group. She moved with a fluid grace, which, like De’Nim before her, spoke volumes about her personality and overall confidence, and this laid a deep impression upon the younger woman. The elder woman eased into the space adjacent Colna as she first rendered a Gawains’ salute to the elders and then bowed to Colna, who returned it.

As she came back erect, Colna’s eyes met with the Miralukan’s banded ones and she suddenly felt blood rushing through her ears with a terrible surge. The heavy, droning thump of her escalating heartbeat drowned out all other sound as an abrupt thought-flash seized her mind—

She had returned to her earliest childhood, at the time she was barely eleven months old. She was once again within the arms of her mother as she held her child with a great, tender desperateness. Although she had only just begun to feel those special ebbings within herself that she would later come to know as the Force, Colna noted the powerful sadness within her mother’s eyes that contradicted her warm smile and knew that at some point in the near-future her pain would consume her to the brink of suicide. Even then she had wished she could have done something to break through that wall of agony, to tell her that everything was going to turn out all right…

Colna saw her mother’s face turn away in silent alarm as she felt another pair of hands reach beneath her. With a tender yet firm tug, Colna felt herself being removed from her mother’s hold. She thought she heard her mother whimper as there was a brief period of weightlessness and, when gravity overtook again, Colna saw the face of another woman, somewhat younger than her mother and dressed entirely in robes. However, the most peculiar thing about this woman was the strip of dark cloth covering her eyes, and even stranger still was the sense that she would play a major part in Colna’s future. Another rushing wave filled Colna’s ears as the new woman smiled brilliantly and added in a kind voice, “The Force is very strong in you, little baby. I sense that your future will be a beautiful one.”

Colna instantly returned to the present as her face took on a mask of total apoplexy. “It’s you,” she said in a voice that was barely audible. “You were the one who took me away from my Mama when I was a baby.” She nodded absentmindedly. “I never thought I would ever see you again.”

The Ma’ardi called je’Hanna Colvain laughed softly as she placed a hand upon Colna’s shoulder. “And you have grown into a fine young woman yourself, Colna Ardaugh.” She quietly appraised Colna for a beat before continuing. “Besides, I knew it was eventually going to come to you about me. With insight as keen as yours appears to be, you certainly will do well enough in the field.”

It took a moment for this last statement to register inside Colna’s already-addled brain, and when it finally dawned on her that she had unintentionally engaged je’Hanna’s mind and subsequently admitted it in open court—a breach-of-privacy that was seen as a calamitous insult by the entirety of the Order—her naturally-russet skin tone turned an even fiercer shade of brown in outright humiliation. She quickly dropped her head in submission. “I beg forgiveness, milady. I meant no harm.” You stupid lummox, Colna berated herself in tandem, you just had to go off and pick into Old Girl’s head, didn’t you? Stupid, stupid, stupid…

je’Hanna lifted the young paladin’s head by her chin gently until her face met with hers again. The Miraluka’s grin softened into a warm smile as she continued with Colna, her voice more attenuated this time. “Child, if you’re so concerned about having offended me, you’re wasting your both our time. Instead of bashing yourself over the head, it would be simpler to consider this your first lesson in the larger world—always be mindful of your approach towards all living things.”

Colna’s vexation towards herself was still apparent as she tentatively regarded T’Pahn. “Great Mother T’Pahn has reminded me of that fact more times than I care to recall,” she responded sheepishly.

Remembering herself as she returned her attention to the ceremony whose traditions were born more than a thousand generations before, Colna Ardaugh straightened up to her full height and looked at je’Hanna Colvain with a resolve she did not yet truly feel. “I, Colna Ardaugh, humbly accept thee Lady je’Hanna Colvain as my padawan damsel.” She followed this with as graceful and dignified a formal bow as she could manage, partially in apology for the ass she had just made out of herself in front of je’Hanna, and partially to hide the tremors of nervous self-disgust that continued to pulse through her arms. If thee finds me worthy of being your student, remained the rest of the thought that was left unsaid.

“Be certain of this course you must, Colna Ardaugh,” Yoda exclaimed suddenly. His lined face now wore a hooded expression, his bright eyes ablaze with passion. It was an outburst completely out of context with his normally sanguine temperament, and its forthrightness caught everyone in the chamber off-guard. “Much pain and suffering will result if this course is taken. The same advice I offer to Sirette Rivossa and Q’Mia Banocles, if accepted it will be.”

He was stilled from any further exhortation by a firm touch from T’Pahn. “Enough, Padawan. Now is not the time for this discussion.” Yoda’s face hardened in one last surge of distress before he sighed and nodded in acquiescence, albeit reluctantly.

Colna watched as a dark mood came over je’Hanna’s proud features and lingered. It was clearly apparent to Colna that je’Hanna and Yoda were at a serious impasse about something, but it wasn’t clear as to exactly what the problem was. She wanted desperately to use the Force once more to penetrate the wall between them, but she though better of it when she realized that the action might only deepen their anger at each other and, worse yet, redirect it at her. No; the matter would reveal itself in its own time and of its own accord.

Quickly dismissing the contention between Yoda and herself and her own anger entirely, je’Hanna Colvain resumed with Colna. She inclined her head as she returned Colna’s salute. “Colna Ardaugh, I, je’Hanna Colvain, most proudly accept thee as my padawan learner.” The emphasis on the ‘my’-part bristled with conviction as she sealed the pact which brought the girl into her fold.

Colna matched je’Hanna’s gaze more firmly as she promised, “I will not fail you, Mistress.”

je’Hanna got even more to the point. “You most assuredly will not.”