Lessons

This story was co-written by Delerius_Jedi and schmoopy, and is a very quick one-shot for the first Duelling Circle Challenge!

The corridors of the Ebon Hawk were dark... fittingly so, when Mira wandered from her bunk to the common room on the small freighter. She hadn't been able to sleep; the masked visages of men in uniform staying in her mind, even unconsciously.

"Trouble sleeping?"

Mira jumped, and cursed under her breath; Tyria had appeared right in front of her, and she hadn't even noticed. For once, she'd thought that she would be the only one awake at this hour, but it figured it'd be her. I can't even head to the refresher without the feeling that she knows exactly where I go and what I'm doing.

"Yeah? I would've thought even the famous Last Jedi would have to recharge her own power cells once in awhile," she retorted. "Or was Atton already asleep?"

"Gee, Mira, that joke just doesn't get old for you, does it?" But even in the half-light, she could see the Jedi's cheeks turning a shade to rival that of a Sith lightsabre. "Anyway, Atton and I, we're not --"

"Hey, hey, I know," Mira grinned, waving a hand. "And even if you were up to something, I think I'd keep my nose out of your business." She shifted her feet nervously before she continued. "Actually...that's what I'm wondering about; you... you seem to always be able to get a grasp on any situation and do the right thing. It's like you're able to predict whatever'll happen when we get into trouble, and still always come out on top."

"Oh, hardly," Tyria scoffed.

"I mean, how do you do that?" Mira continued. "You always seem so... in control. Like the facts of life are laid out before you. It's as if no choice is a hard one, for you." She looked at the older woman intensely. "Is that what it means to be a Jedi? To have that sort of clarity? If so, I'll make a terrible Jedi, I can't even judge when to walk away from things and when to end them." Dammit, Hanharr.

"Well," Tyria said, slowly. "You don't magically become wise when you're wearing these robes," she gestured towards Mira's hip, "or carrying that blade. And no choice should be treated as if it were an easy thing, even when all the facts seem pretty obvious. People get hurt when you make assumptions."

Tyria pulled a couple of stools from the nearby storage hold and motioned for her to sit. "But the worst thing of all, Mira, is to make no decision at all..."

When I was exiled, I'd travelled as far out to the Rim as I dared before making my way into completely unknown territory; I made a stop on a small planet called Denaris. I'd heard around the Rim that it had very little in the way of contact, even trade, with the rest of the galaxy. I thought it might make a good place to be alone.

Denarian society is all about the village; even their cities are just groups of villages that happen to be in very close proximity to one another. I found a place to live in a small village named Sanar; as I'm sure you've noticed, I have some skill with repairing machines, and so I had spent about a standard year there making my way as a mechanic.

Denarian belief is that the process of justice is sacred, as if it were religion. Their tradition is that when a crime is committed, the accused is put on trial by three Judges. Their decision is always the last; to contradict it is unthinkable, and to circumvent it carries the penalty of death.

The First Judge is always the village leader, while the Second Judge is the most learned member of the community -- usually a healer, or a scholar. The Third Judge is chosen by drawing a name from a bowl on the day that the trial is to begin. It is required that all villagers of adult age are to attend on this day and to place their name into the bowl, on a piece of flimsy. To refuse would be an affront, and so on this day, as on several others, I was there.

I'm sure you can see what's coming.

The villagers -- well, they'd welcomed me without question; they are hospitable to a fault -- but I heard murmurs of 'newcomer' and 'offworlder' bandied about. And believe me, the last thing I wanted was to be called to sit in judgment over anyone. The Council had stripped me of my position as a Jedi, and I wanted no part of it. But to dispute any part of the process is practically sacrilege for the Denarians, so I had no choice, and neither did they.

So there I was. The accused was a man named Jeral, who it was said had murdered Terea, his own wife. She was supposed to have been having an affair with another man, so of course the presumption was that Jeral had killed Terea in a jealous rage.

The village constables had made a pretty good case. A number of people had seen Jeral in the local cantina telling everyone how absolutely furious he was. The man Terea had been sleeping with, Rugen, he testified that she was afraid of what he would do if her husband ever found out.

She'd been drugged. It was a massive overdose of a medicine that Jeral took to help him sleep. The village doctor who had examined her told us that the dose had been taken at the same time as she'd eaten her dinner.

Sounds pretty straightforward, right? I mean, it happens all the time. I'm sure you've seen it any number of times, Nar Shaddaa being what it is...

Anyway, all he could say for himself in his defence is that he didn't do it. He couldn't say that he wasn't there when it happened, because they were eating together. He said that they had been trying to sort things out, to reconcile. He'd never had a violent past, although this wasn't a violent death. He told us that he'd said those things in anger, but that he'd never really kill her. He had friends and associates testify to us that they did not believe he would do this. His advocate made a pretty good case here too.

So we heard the evidence, and then we had to deliberate. The First Judge said guilty; the Second said he was innocent.

And I was... well, Mira, I was afraid. All my life, I'd been trained to use the Force to help me see these things, to judge someone's sincerity, to let it guide me to the right decision. Its currents were always open to me, providing guidance and reassurance whenever I needed it. Even in the darkest of moments, the Force always seemed to provide the answer, provide a meaning. I relied on it, depended on it, more so than I was willing to admit.

But I didn't have the Force anymore. And here I had a man's life in my hands, and I couldn't decide. It was just... terrifying. Losing the Force was like being blinded, and to make this decision was like being asked to read a book without vision. I didn't trust myself to make a choice.

I didn't know what else to do, so I excused myself for a moment and went out to the back of the building we were using as a tribunal.

And then I flipped a coin. I flipped a damn coin, because I didn't know how to choose anymore.

Sentencing on Denaris is swift. The tribunal guards took Jeral to the prison, and he was gone the next morning. I was thanked for my time and given a small amount of the local currency as compensation for the time I'd spent away from my workshop. I went home and I drank myself to sleep.

It turned out later that Terea's family found a holocron amongst her belongings. She'd made a recording of herself the day that she died; she said that she was tired of the guilt, couldn't live with harming her husband like that. She said she planned to kill herself. She had the bottle of the fluid medication that her husband used. Said she was sorry.

Nobody held me to any blame, of course. They believe their justice to be unquestionable, and if a judgment turns out to be wrong, it is simply a matter of fate.

But I left Denaris not long after that.

"I don't understand," Mira said after a moment. "You fought in the Mandalorian wars; you were a Jedi general. You've made decisions like that before."

"It sounds so stupid, doesn't it." Tyria looked up, running a hand through her hair. "I'd held whole armies' lives in my hands before. But after Malachor... after I was exiled, I was blind and deaf. I couldn't see, I couldn't hear and the Force, which I had relied on all my life, was silent to me."

Mira fiddled with the hilt of her lighsabre; this wasn't what she'd expected at all.

"If I'd made the wrong decision, well... it happens. But it's worse than that; I sent an innocent man to his death on the basis on a coin flip, because I was too afraid to make a decision on my own." She looked Mira in the eye, put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm proud of you, Mira. Never doubt yourself; you are strong, and you can become stronger through using the Force.

"But you have such a gift, a skill that took me ten years to learn, and one that most Jedi never understand. You've found yourself, and you trust in yourself and your skills. And even if you one day find yourself without the Force, you will still have yourself."

"I... thanks," Mira said, unsure what else to add to that.

Tyria smiled. "Try and get some sleep."

And with that, she got up and made her way to the back of the Hawk, leaving Mira to her thoughts.