Muddy Waters (short story)

“You are going to tell them that you made a mistake.”

Oukranos slowly opened his eyes. He knelt atop a meditation mat in one of the private meeting rooms of the Jedi Temple. The shutters were drawn, narrow slats of fiery dawn light piercing the dimness.

Before him sat Master Morgun Jai. The Korun’s expression was grave as he gazed back at the Pylantian. “It would be prudent of you to punish yourself before the Council has a chance to punish you,” he said. “I strongly advise that you take the Barash.”

Oukranos closed his eyes again. “I don’t want to take the Barash,” he muttered.

“It isn’t about what you want. It’s about what’s necessary.” Jai’s volume was rising even as his body remained rigid. “I have a hard time believing you thought you needed to stop Knight Elaan from detaining the assassin in order to avoid more bloodshed. But whatever you intended doesn’t matter. Think of how it looks—a Jedi Master aiding and abetting the man who murdered the Hapan prince and his bride!”

Oukranos stared at the floor, his brow furrowed. He could sense his wife pacing in the library, radiating comfort and unconditional love even as she worried herself sick over him. Elsewhere in the stacks he felt his apprentice, hard at work on his studies, trying not to think about his master.

“You will most likely lose your Padawan,” Jai added with a sigh. “In fact, it’s a certainty.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I thought that I understood you. It’s why I entrusted you with infiltrating the Se’n Dorrin, and with training Ben Khal. I thought you were of strong moral character, immune to these… muddy waters.” He stared at the Pylantian. “Tell me the truth. Why did you protect Kalen?”

“Because I broke a promise I made to him,” Oukranos said. “And I want to make amends.”