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Jedi knight Lyn Rakish settled down for the night on her reading chair. A few years past she had to sneak that item of furniture into her quarters, it was a bit too luxurious than what was allotted by temple general services. She figured she was owed one contraband item at least. And she was externally grateful for the comfort on nights when she had to face an unwanted assignment.
It wasn’t that she hated what was being asked of her, it was understood that knights and masters should periodically return to the mother temple to teach the next generation. Even Grandmaster Yoda took time training younglings, seemingly enjoying the breaks. To do so is to make the Jedi Order strong, ensuring the next generation knew and respected their history.
Her irritation with being called back to teach was twofold. Her tutoring program is intended for Jedi initiates who wish to pursue specialization in history and political science, but Lyn found the scant education they received as younglings was more Jedi hagiography than real critical history. It frustrates her when she had to waste time helping her hand-picked pupils unlearn what they know, wasting valuable weeks of tutelage before their new masters took them away for more personalized training. The crèchemasters were responsible for selecting promising initiates, encouraging them to write a short essay for Lyn’s perusal for the selection process. And she received fewer submissions each year. Imitates today weren’t only ignorant of properly and interrogated historiography, they were less interested in learning it. Less curious. One day Lyn would need to go and hand select students. This was taking away from her valuable fieldwork time researching new primary sources as it was.
So, this evening Lyn brewed a pot of tea and got to work in her scandalously comfortable chair reading through essays written by bright twelve-to-fifteen-year-olds. She skimmed through the first four, rejecting one and begrudgingly moving three others into her consideration folder.
Then she came to the fifth entry. This was a suubatar of another color. For one thing, it was over five times as long as the others. Then there was its opinionated content and tone. Lyn found herself chuckling and shaking her head at the audacity of it all. She paused halfway through to pour herself a glass of wine. She knew two things with certainly, that she would need to closely read through this essay in particular, and that tomorrow she would meet with its author to talk it over. Finally, this would be a mentee worth her time.
At that moment, though the hour grew late, two Jedi younglings were sparring in the sparse confines of the dojo reserved for the crèche clans. They were close friends. For the girl, in fact, her partner was one of the few crèchemates she could confidently call a friend shy as she was.
The fact that they were so close was occasionally grist for idle gossip, as different they were in behavior and personality. One, a boy who had to be reprimanded more than once not to disrobe and dive into the reclamation pond when Gundark Clan visited the Room of a Thousand Fountains. The other a girl so hesitant to stand out socially that even an accidental fall into the fountains would have had her retiring to her bed with embarrassment for the rest of the day. Perhaps the rest of the month, or forever.
One day, however, in the boy’s enthusiasm to draw all his crèchemates out of their shells, he got the girl talking and they realized they had mural goals. Both wanted to leave the temple and travel the frontier, though the boy wished to prove himself as a guardian of Justice and all the girl wanted was the pursuit of firsthand knowledge of the galaxy and to serve as a guardian of peace to the downtrodden. Both felt that the Jedi’s reputation could improve if they lived amongst the people.
And so the Mon Calamari Nahdar Vebb, though he was elder by over a year stuck by the side of Mirialan initiate Barriss Offee, encouraging her to speak up every now and then while she inspired him to think through situations before acting.
Barriss was initially wary that Nahdar had developed a crush on her, and sought to let him down easy since it was not reciprocated. But when alone one afternoon she made a stuttering approach to that difficult conversation her friend laughed and admitted that he found her front-facing binocular eyes rather repulsive, actually. Barriss blushed, said there were no hard feelings, and the two were close companions ever since.
Nahdar could have stepped up and taking the Padawan trials last year. Barriss suspected that since the initiate trials involved lightsaber combat he had stayed behind to help his friend train, since combat was not where her passions lay.
So here they were in the dojo before curfew, practicing for the ceremony that would inevitably separate the two friends once they were selected as Padawans by respective Jedi masters.
Barriss desperately needed practice with her Makashi, the graceful yet aggressive dueling form. Her companion stuck with his favored Ataru, perhaps to encourage her friend to fight more assertively. He was an absolute whirlpool with Form IV. Attempting to break his offensive stances was like fighting a riptide.
Nahdar pounced at her with a spinning slash, putting not only the strength of his arms and shoulders into the strike but his momentum and all his body weight as well. Barriss deactivated her saber instead of countering the blow. She let her body fall backwards, drawing on the Force to keep from falling over. She then sought to get under his guard and strike his back, but Nahdar spun his saber behind his back, switching hands in the process and blocking her feint.
“I thought I had a good counter that time.” Barriss quipped as she parried another series of attacks.
“I’ve just more peripheral vision than you, Barriss!” Nahdar grinned. “Maybe next time I should try a blindfold, to give you a fighting chance.”
Barriss somersaulted backward and gave her partner a bow. “Next time. It’s getting late, and I need time to shower before curfew. Can we call it a night?”
“Ah, you mammals. Always sweating.”
“You should remember to bathe regularly as well, your skin attracts bacteria as well.” She looked him up and down. “I didn’t nick you at all, did I? I could soothe aby burns if needed.”
The Mon Cal shrugged. “You just want more healing practice. Don’t worry, I’m fine.” He put his arm around her shoulder and walked with her to the refreshers. He had broad strong hands with finned fingers which meant it was nearly impossible for someone as slight as Barriss to disarm him. But the challenge pushed her that much harder. “You’re improving, Barriss! You’ll be ready for the trials soon. I can feel it.”
“I fear it will take much more practice before I can come close to beating you, my friend.”
“Well, Barriss, we shall practice again tomorrow and by degrees you shall get ever more closer.” Nahdar grinned and Barriss basked in the warmth of his steady support. Most of the crèche had written her off as standoffish or elitist. Only Nahdar saw her clearly, understanding her hesitancy as shyness and her perfectionism a smokescreen for her low self-worth. He diligently worked her out of her shell and encouraged her to push against her limits.
The two friends parted ways confident that whatever challenges the next day would bring they could surely count on each other.
Thanks to her administrative privileges as an instructor Lyn could easily look up the girl’s schedule. She cleared her own slate and contacted the crèche masters so she could sit in on her Ethics, Morals, and Diplomacy session the next morning. It wasn’t hard to pick her out, as Lyn was a fellow yellow-green skinned near-human. Barriss Offee chose to sit in the back of the classroom taking careful notes on her datapad. She seemed quiet and studious, which seemed at odds with her tone related in the essay she read the previous night.
Near the conclusion of the lecture the Mon Calamari boy sitting next to her seemed to flag. His chin dipped and his eyelids became heavy. Barriss glanced over at him and gingerly prodded the whisker-like appendage that jutted off the youths chin, which affected him like a mild electric shock. He looked over at the Mirialan girl with shock, then anger, then the sort of expression children take on when they plotting to get someone back later. Barriss merely smiled and devoted her attention back to the lecture as if nothing had occurred.
Lyn took all this in, formulating what sort of youngling she was dealing with via her behavior and temperament.
When the lesson was over one of the instructors asked Barriss to stay while the other herded the other younglings to their next assignment. Young Barriss seemed momentarily panicked, but the Mon Calla placed one of his broad hands on her arm and said something to her, which banked her anxiety down to tolerable levels. It was only then that she noticed Lyn was the anonymous factor in the room. The girl blinked once and collected up her things. She made her way over to where Lyn was standing.
“Are you Knight Rakish?” she asked tentatively.
“Yes. Have we met before?”
“No,” Barriss replied. “But we don’t have very many Nogratu Jedi in the Order and I looked you up before I drafted the essay.”
Lyn folded her arms and grinned. “And what did you find?”
“I wanted to read some of your own work, so that I could tailor my submission accordingly.”
“I see,” Lyn strode towards the door. “Please follow me, I would like to discuss your essay and eligibility for the tutorship.”
Barriss Offee fell into step behind her, two meters behind to be exact. Lyn did not offer any further conversation. She wanted to see if the girl would tolerate silence and anticipation. It seemed to be her preferred state, as it turned out. She did not speak until they reached their destination.
“Is this one of the Padawan dining halls?”
“It is,” Lyn replied. “I imagine you shall be taking your meals here soon.”
“Hopefully,” she said, a bit wistfully. “If all goes well.”
Lyn arched an eyebrow and looked down at her. “Do you anticipate it not going well?”
“The future is ever changing. I suppose it is the will of the Force.”
Lyn summoned over one of the serving droids. She had arranged for tea and light refreshments earlier that morning. After setting down the tray and pouring the youth a steaming mug she casually sat down at the table and crossed her ankles. “I’ve asked your minders for a few moments of your time in which to discuss your essay.”
“Alright.” She was concealing her nervousness by busying her hands gathering a plate of tea cakes and her beverage.
“You wrote that essay?” Lyn studied her expression closely.
“Yes. My name is on it. Are you suspicious of plagiarism?”
“No, no.” Lyn made a dismissive gesture. “But did you perhaps adapt your ideas from someone else?”
Her big dark blue eyes went wide. “No! Of course not.”
“So you stand by your opinions, and historical analysis.”
“Yes. One-hundred percent. Did you not care for my work?”
“Oh no, it’s not that.” Lyn reassured her. “It was very well thought out and researched. And mature, considering.”
The youth brightened then. Lyn’s theory that this was the sort who became extremely validated by affirmation of her academic achievements proved true.
“For your age, I mean.” she continued. “It would need refining for proper publication, of course. While advanced, it very much reads like the work of a younger person.”
“Oh.” Barriss deflated slightly.
“By far the most interesting and longest submission this year.” Barriss rebounded then, adjusting her posture and smiling. “If you wish to make refinements, however. I would be careful bringing it to the attention of others.”
“Why?”
Lyn gave her a concerned look. “Because it was so inflammatory. Radical, practically. If I passed on a tract that provocative to the masters I might expect to be called up to the council chambers.”
“You really think so?” Color seemed to drain from the youth’s cheeks.
“Initiate Offee, you practically called for repeal of the Ruusan Accords.”
“Oh,” she squirmed a little in her seat and then got some steel in her spine. “I see what you mean. I should have been more direct.”
“Lyn crossed her arms and allowed herself to seem more authoritative. “Are you serious? The Ruusan Reformation is primary pillar of the Modern Jedi Order.”
The girl did not back down, though she pressed her case quietly. “I am. For a long time I have felt something was wrong with the way we go about doing things. I think the Accords was the first misstep along that path.” She cleared her throat and took a prim sip of tea. “The essay was a summary of a longer work I have been nurturing over the years.”
She had the tone of a youngling playing dress up. It was almost adorable.
“Where did you get these radical notions?” Lyn asked.
“I do not consider them radical, more like a form of conservative primitivism. I think we should revert to the old ways of doing things.”
Lyn held up a hand. “Okay, back up. When did you begin to feel this way? Do you have some grudge against the Jedi Order?”
Her eyes went wide again. “Oh no! The opposite. I love the Order with all my heart. Most Jedi come to the temple as children. That was not my experience. My mother could not care for me, and surrendered me to our care not at four years of age, but as an infant. I am told knights had to create a schedule of who would take their turns feeding, changing, and caring for me. Apparently it was quite novel, since they would have no other experience caring for a baby otherwise.”
“Yes,” Lyn nodded. “Your point being?”
“My point is the Jedi has been my only family. And I take that seriously. I wish to honor our great history by being the best Jedi I can.”
She was so serious. It was quite a thing witnessing this youth of twelve affecting the maturity of a woman a decade or more older. “Is that what prompted your interest in history?”
“Yes. I had an assignment a while back researching the biography of a Jedi Master of note. I chose Vernesra Rwoh.”
That made sense to Lyn. A fellow Mirialan, and a child prodigy that someone like Barriss would idolize. “Go on.”
“It seemed to me that someone who accomplished in their youth would have eventually attained a seat on the Council, but she never did. I did not have access to her private correspondence, of course, it reading between the lines it seems like she was part of a sort of shadow council, dealing with internal disputes and relations with senatorial oversight. That led me to speculate what would detail her advancement?”
“And your conclusion was some sort of conspiracy involving the Nihil Crisis?” Lyn asked wryly.
“Yes. It started long before that, with the Battle of Jedha, and the Nihil’s precursor. But that was the result of Ruusan. We were no longer an autonomous religious order. Rwoh’s brilliance and potential was wasted playing political fixer under senate oversight.” Barriss closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It again seemed comical for someone so youthful. “I understand why the Reformations were needed at the time. It was right after the war with the Sith, and many in the public couldn’t tell the difference between Jedi and Sith. They just knew the Galaxy had been ravaged by Force-wielding maniacs with laser swords. They needed assurance we would stay out of political office with the Senate keeping an eye out for our excesses. But that was centuries ago.”
“So you think we should abandon this temple and reclaim long-abandoned outposts across the frontier?”
“No. A small staff would remain to maintain this holy place as a museum.” Barriss was frustratingly matter-of-fact about all this.
“What about the archives?”
“We split them up and transmit documents via the Holonet.”
Lyn pressed her. “And how do we financially support ourselves without senate appropriations?”
Barriss shrugged. “We have the Jedi Service Corps for those who don’t make the cut as Padawans. Now, we just send them out to do charity. We could instead have other Jedi join their labors and serve their communities. We either win the hearts of the people live off the generosity of the citizens we protect or we have no higher purpose.”
Lyn closes her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “This is what I mean, Offee. It’s too radical.”
“I only propose we go back to how things were for the Jedi of old.”
“Barriss, you have been clear about the historical events that led to this ‘wrongness’ you sense in the current order. Ruusan, Jedha, Dalna, and the rest. Who do you think is personally responsible?”
The girl seemed to curl up into herself. “I am hesitant to say, Knight Rakish.”
“Please, indulge me Barriss.”
Barriss sighed. “Just as long as you know that I have great personal affection for this person.”
“Go on.”
“Well,” Barriss fidgeted. Her previous convictions evaporated. “As I said, much of what went wrong occurred two and a half centuries ago.”
“Yes?”
“And it’s apparent that someone was leading the Council back then, who covered up a lot of the scandals. And he is on the Council still.”
Lyn nodded, and Barriss slumped in her chair as if expected to be expelled from the order.
“Let me ask you one more question,” Lyn said. “If things don’t get better, whar will you do?”
Barriss nodded and looked thoughtful for a moment. “A close friend of mine feels similar. We want to live like the Jedi of old, true guardians of peace and justice living amongst the public, not stuck here on Coruscant. We have talked it over. Once we make Knight, we shall become wayseekers, traveling wherever true Force deems.” She smiled then. “He wants to be more the itinerant adventurer whereas I prefer the life of a healer and mediator, but the point remains.”
Lyn looked at her skeptically. “Just two Jedi, going around in service to light and life?”
“Yes.” Barriss replied.
“What is the utility of one, or even two Jedi Knights acting as they see fit in the Outer Rim compared to the full weight of suffering and inequities found there?” Lyn asked the youth.
“Well, if the light of our example pushes back the darkness just a little bit, even if providence proves it to be inadequate, then others may delay the horrors. And they inspire another, and another. And eventually, joy is possible. Everything sentients make crumbles with time, even evil systems. On a long enough timeframe all the Jedi do is for nothing. But we are alive right now. And what we do can matter.”
“I see.” Lyn stood and gave her a small bow. “I remember the brightness of that sort. The potential of youth. I have taken up enough of your time. You have a guaranteed spot on the next tutorship. Trust that I will challenge your… more extreme ideas. But such perspectives are welcome if we are to grow.”
Barriss beamed up at her and she was just a thirteen year old girl again, enthusiastic and idealistic, not yet weighed down by the consequences of experience. She thanked Lyn, asked her for further details so she could prepare ahead of time, and soon enough she was off to rejoin her afternoon classes. Perhaps she was excited to share the news with her close friend. Her skepticism was admirable, but misplaced. It wasn’t Master Yoda’s hesitancy or hubris that caused the Order’s decline, it was someone hidden.
Lyn Rakish decided this was a great find. Chancellor Palpatine tasked her with finding young Jedi who were dissatisfied with the status quo. She would have to watch this girl closely, but she held potential. It would be easy, Lyn wouldn’t have to give her a push. The apocalypse to come would cause the faith of an idealist like young Barriss to become brittle and vulnerable. One such as her could not bear the cognitive dissonance between what they think the Jedi should be, and what they have become.
Chancellor Palpatine charged Lyn with an important project. She was creating a family. And with luck, one day, she could call Barriss her sister.