Chapter 3: Troubled Horizons****************************************
Vhal’Dan CongressBaransu no Kage: Arkady Cyne
Arbiter: Anson D’Aklon
Council of Balance:
1st Speaker: Kazic Ovarug
2nd Speaker: Saani K’aval
3rd Speaker: Pytir Danisen
4th Speaker: J’Nessah Raanh
5th Speaker: Corvus Watashi
6th Speaker: Auryn Kerosin’e
7th Speaker: Sarith Tovar
****************************************
“And you say that Kimar had the truth suppressed? That the situation is much more…dire than reports would indicate?” Kage Arkady’s inquisitive tone held no antagonism, just plain curiosity.
“That’s correct Kage.” Anson’s clear voice rang in the Hall of Balance, the handsome Arbiter having come directly from his mission to Coruscant to gather intel on a reported attack on the Jedi. There’d even been rumors that the Temple itself had been penetrated, the Order decimated. The truth turned out to be far more intriguing, if confusing. Anson continued. “While I was on-planet, the locals were fervent with gossip, much of it having the taste of truth while some…even if they
were rumors, I think that it should act as a compass for the Vhal’Dan. The level of violence was beyond what Coruscant has known since the New Sith Wars and the Ruusan Reformation.” The tanned, muscular Jedi master paused for effect. “I believe that it is time for the Order to implement war-time procedures.” Looking around the Council, seven sets of eyes staring directly at Anson, the Arbiter glared at them each in turn before turning his brown eyes towards the Kage. “We need to fully militarize, suspending any and all activities not specifically dedicated to our defenses.”
Even as a restricted session, the collected Vhal’Dan Gray masters were present; as such, the spectators numbered over 700. While they only whispered, the amassed murmurs of the entire audience sounded loud in the Hall of Balance, the gathered masters interested and worried considering the news that the human Arbiter had brought. Which is exactly what Anson had intended.
And Arkady knew it. Grim determination on his face, the Kage spoke. “Even if your ‘suggestion’ wasn’t out of line with the decorum of this august body, the fact that you think that this no longer merits further investigation is proof that you’ve already made up your mind, Arbiter.” Like a cool salve on a burn, the Kage’s deliberate tone and calming words quieted the assemblage. “Master Anson, I would invite for you to remain after these proceedings are completed.” Unlike the Arbiter, the Kage was an expert at circumspection and tact but every single master in attendance recognized the chastisement for what it was, subtle or no.
That included Anson. Red-faced, the Arbiter’s jaw clenched, the muscles of his jowls rippling in the soft light of the Hall. Regardless, he sat and nodded his head at Arkady, deferring to his Kage. Magnanimous in victory, the Kage turned to the seven gathered Gray masters that made up the Vhal’Dan Council of Balance. “Speakers, I would recommend that we table these talks until we have a Congressional closed session consisting of the Council, the Arbiter, and myself alone.” Arkady’s blue eyes were piercing as his gruff voice echoed within the Hall.
As First Speaker, Kazic stood. In theory, “First Speaker” was supposed to be just that: first to talk among equals. The reality of the matter was that the position was really just a half-step below that of Arbiter; some even whispered that—in Kazic’s case—his standing as First Speaker put him at equal footing with Anson.
Kazic disabused everyone of those notions. He’d made it clear to every single person that he was subordinate to Anson in his capacity of Arbiter and that he had no designs to ascend to the office…at least while his friend occupied it. His red eyes intent upon Arkady, Kazic intoned, “Kage, Arbiter, fellow Council members. I call this session to a close. Go in Balance.” As the assembled masters departed—some more reluctant than others—the seven Speakers of the Council sat in collective silence. As soon as the doors closed, leaving only the nine members of the Vhal’Dan Congress, all of the Jedi began speaking, voices rising, often trying to talk over one another. Only two people did not speak: Arkady and Anson.
Both men sat staring at one another upon the raised central dais, not maliciously but then again not genially either. And as the Speakers of the Council descended into a cacophony of shouting, the Kage finally stood, speaking a single word amplified with the Force. “ENOUGH.”
After the noise of the arguments, the silence was deafening. “We are supposed to represent the best that the Vhal’Dan has to offer. Please at least try to act like it, Speakers.” The Kage only paused briefly, reasonably certain that the Council had been suitably castigated. He slowly inhaled, continuing. “Now. After everything that Anson has told us, from Vyth to Coruscant, the Jedi deaths, the civilian terrorism, and even Kimar’s desperate measures, I would ask that you listen to the Arbiter in full. Then, and only then, will I hear from each of you in turn.” Arkady looked at Anson. “Arbiter?”
Anson looked up from steepled fingers, his raptor-like gaze looking around. Finally he stood, first stepping down from the dais and then slowly pacing around the semi-circular arrangement of chairs. “Kage, Speakers, I cannot stress to you the…brutality of the violence that Coruscant is overwhelmed by, the savagery that the Jedi encountered. We’ve all seen battles, some of us have even experienced war…” He nodded to Arkady, Kazic, and Saani before continuing, “…but what I saw on Coruscant was beyond gruesome. The Jedi were killed indiscriminately, often times dying before they knew that they were under attack. Numerous guerrilla attacks, usually from the most unlikely of persons. There were even known pacifists that had somehow been turned into indiscriminate killers!” That last especially hit home, Anson could tell. “The Jedi made a critical error: hubris.” Anson’s face was impassive but his eyes held passion. “They thought that they were prepared. They thought that they understood the ‘rules’ of war. It was a slaughter. And Kimar would have everyone believe that he was in control over everything at all times. This is nothing but a bold-faced lie.” Anson directed his eyes straight at the Kage. “The Jedi forgot: the only ‘rule’ in war is to kill your enemy, in any way, at any time, so that your enemy is no more.”
Anson stared again at each master in turn. “The Jedi thought that they were infallible, that their dogma somehow elevated them past such mortal concerns. But they died just as easily and just as quickly as porgs to the slaughter.” Finally, he looked at Arkady. “And the most unbelievable rumor that I heard whispered in the bowels of the underlevels: they were set upon by a small group of incredibly powerful Force-sensitives.
The Jedi’s numbers counted for nothing!” The last came out as a shout, one that evidently surprised even the Arbiter.
Collecting himself, Anson’s voice became much softer. “Earlier this year, Master Kazic and myself were on a mission to establish favorable relations with the outcast Mak’Tor Order. To say that we were successful is an understatement. But it was during that time that I first learned of the Massacre at Vyth.” The only Vhal’Dan that knew of Vyth were the ones currently in the Hall but no one else. “Kage Li‘I’Mack was emphatic: the Mak’Tor of Vyth had been killed by two extremely powerful Sith, the sole survivor a girl who could barely be counted as a ‘youngling!’” He shook his head, a strange look upon his face. “…extremely powerful…”
Anson’s head sank, his chin resting upon his chest, his next words quiet as if speaking to himself. “I don’t know what is worse to contemplate – that the attacks on Vyth and Coruscant were carried out by the same group…or if it was two different groups…” Recalling himself to the present, his jaw firmed in conviction. “…Either way we must be prepared! Research and history is important but with something out there that has already attacked both the Mak’Tor and the Jedi where they felt strongest…well, the time for peaceful endeavors is over!” Anson’s voice rose in exclamation and assurance, eyes scrutinizing every Speaker before settling finally upon the Kage. “Kage, the Vhal’Dan must be as strong as possible to repel this threat. I vote that anything that does not aid us towards that end should be considered superfluous, including some personal liberties. The survival of our Order supersedes the needs of the individual.” Slowly rising from his seat, Arkady spoke in a measured, soft voice.
“Thank you Arbiter. Now, I would have each of your opinions concerning this event. Anson is convinced that they are related but offers no such proof aside from the fact that the attacks were allegedly perpetrated by Force-users of unbelievable power. Furthermore, he demands that we reform the Vhal’Dan as a police state.” The short, bald man looked at Kazic, addressing him. “First Speaker, what say you?”
Standing his full height, Kazic spoke slowly. “Kage…I think that the Vhal’Dan
should make preparations.” The Anzati master held up his hands to his fellow Council members to prevent the disputes he knew to be coming. “But conditionally: we should not neglect our duties as researchers or educators. We are Gray, first and foremost; warriors second. As such, we should continue in those capacities, moreso now than ever as the Jedi Order sits on unstable foundation. Furthermore, I believe that the Arbiter is correct in cultivating a strong alliance with the Mak’Tor; I have seen the results from their Singers and they are extraordinary to say the least.”
Kazic then looked at the Speakers who had voiced opposition to Anson’s call to militarization. “But let us not forget: we are warriors. We should never fall into the same trappings of complacency that have laid the Jedi low. I vote that we prepare ourselves and not just ‘nominally.’ Let us work our apprentices in their training, giving our adept Jedi mastery. Let us stay vigilant against this unknown foe while we continue to improve in the ways of the Force. Moreover, let us see to it that Galtea is secure; in fact, I vote that we quadruple the Golan Defense presence at the hyperlane terminus.” Kazic received many sounds of assent with each point, growing in volume with every suggestion.
But then, deliberately, the Anzati master went rigidly still, crossing his arms. “But I cannot—
will not—support full militarization in that such a directive would impugn upon the individual liberties of our Jedi. And I, for one, refuse to allow the Vhal’Dan become a ‘reactionary rabble afraid of it’s own shadow’ as Kimar has seen fit to do with the Jedi. We are strong because of our freedoms. And we should always remain so, especially in the face of adversity.”
As he sat down, he saw that several Speakers had been persuaded…while others had not. And going down the list—from 2nd Speaker to 7th Speaker—each one was given an opportunity to address the matter from their point of view. Saani K’aval. Pytir Danisen. J’Nessah Raanh. Auryn Kerosin’e. Corvus Watashi. Sarith Tovar. And while they voiced disparate views using different contentions and differing words, they fell alongside the two most common positions: Anson’s call for full martial implementation or Kazic’s recommendation for moderation. The ballots cast, the Kage called out the results.
Reading the names from the poll upon his datapad, Arkady’s strong voice resounded throughout the Hall. “For militarization: Arbiter Anson D’Aklon, 3rd Speaker Pytir Danisen, 4th Speaker J’Nessah Raanh, 6th Speaker Auryn Kerosin’e. For moderation: 1st Speaker Kazic Ovarug, 2nd Speaker Saani K’aval, 5th Speaker Corvus Watashi, 7th Speaker Sarith Tovar.” As he finished, the Speakers looked from one another to the Arbiter and finally to the Kage.
A tie.
Which meant… “In such an event, I, Kage Arkady Cyne, shall cast the deciding vote.” The stature of the short human was belied by his immense presence and strength in the Force. “I vote for moderation. The Vhal’Dan will make the necessary preparations Master Ovarug has proposed; please see to it, Speakers.”
Looking around the chamber, the Kage nodded, intoning. “This concludes these deliberations.” While the Council members remained for several moments to discuss some of the minutiae of the proceedings, Anson left without so much as a word or a backwards glance…
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Alone in his quarters, Anson sat cross-legged in his Meditation Vestibule. He’d doffed his light gray robes, wearing only a sleeveless tunic and pair of hakama, exposing his muscular arms and calves. And while not necessary for the ceremony, he’d lit several candles, the sole sources of illumination around the room.
His brow furrowed, Anson’s concentration deepened as he attempted to wade in the currents of the Force, hopefully granting him elucidation and knowledge. Checking his anchor a final time—a holopic of him, Kazic, Saani, and Anson’s former teacher, Master Varel’Zo—Anson began Flow-walking in the hope of gaining insight from the future.
As a young teidowan, Anson had been apprenticed to Master Gray Varel’Zo, a rare Aang-Tii in the Vhal’Dan. And while his mental Force abilities weren’t as strong as say Kazic’s, Anson had demonstrated an almost singular talent with Flow-walking. The Force ability allowed one to see into the depths of the past or even glimpse the far-flung future. Flow-walking was alike to Force Precognition but also vastly dissimilar: it allowed the practitioner to witness events of either the past or the present but they could not alter the events directly. Instead, Flow-walking allowed the perception of the walker themselves to change, to be influenced.
Anson gave an inward smile in remembrance of learning that. He’d asked Master Varel’Zo how that was any different from Force Precognition whereas the venerable master cryptically replied, “Exactly.”
But Anson wanted, no
needed, answers. The others could be forgiven for not recognizing the sinister implications of the news that he brought, but he’d been especially wounded by Kazic’s apparent unfaithfulness. How could he side with that blind fool Arkady? And against him, his own brother-in-arms?! Gritting his teeth, Anson focused upon his task, searching the currents as they swept him ever onward in Time.
Coalescing from the streams, he searched for anything that affected the Vhal’Dan collectively. And while murky at first, portraits and scenes began to emerge showing him what he wanted to know. And to his horror, he saw that he was right to be concerned.
A panorama of violence assaulted his eyes, the sounds of explosions, the cries of pain, the lamentation of death pierced his ears, the pain of loss and frustration filled his mind as ever faster each sight filled him with dread.
The Vhal’Dan would be—
had been—attacked, killed, annihilated. Galtea would be—
had been—destroyed, nothing left of either the beautiful ecosystem nor the majestic cities. As Anson flowed from one current to another, his mind raced at the possible cause.
…Those…incredibly powerful Force-users… It must be them, he
knew it to be them. He must—
Suddenly, a blinding flash of complete and utter black stillness diverted his Flow, the currents bisecting as they strove to run around the Void. Even as Anson looked beyond into the Future and saw…nothing…nothing at all…he knew that there was now a fork in the Flow of Time. And while he could not see exactly the ways, he knew—
knew—that in one Flow, the Vhal’Dan would survive, greatly diminished but they would survive, a small but indelibly stronger Order; while in the direction of the other Flow lay…oblivion.
…No… He thought, anger, fear, and aggravation filling him.
…No…it cannot be… Either loss or…extermination…?! And always in the center of everything: the Void. Anson knew that the Void represented…something paramount, something…colossal.
But he knew not what, nor what it portended.
With a soul-jarring sensation, Anson opened his eyes, inhaling as if he’d finally broke the surface of the lake he’d been swimming—drowning—in, taking great gulping breaths of air. Slowly, he willed his heart to stop hammering in his chest, the sweat pouring from his face from exertion. Looking around the room to find some semblance of familiarity, of peace. As he eased his breathing, he began to calm down.
And, in time, clarity came to him. He needed to talk to those Council members that had voted with him. He would have to be careful. Deliberate. Protracted. But certain.
He knew how to save the Vhal’Dan, even if only a remnant remained, it would be he—Arbiter Anson D’Aklon—who would save them.
And as he thought, plans within plans began to take shape, always towards that future that guaranteed that the Vhal’Dan survived.
