Reath only knew Orla Jareni by reputation, but that reputation was a memorable one. Orla had recently declared herself a Wayseeker—a Jedi who would operate independently of the dictates of the Jedi Council. Some Jedi, from time to time, found themselves drawn to a period of solitary action, whether that meant meditation on a mountaintop, helping revolutionaries on a tyrant-ruled world, or even, in one legendary instance, becoming a minor singing sensation on Alderaan. All paths could lead to a deeper understanding of the Force, Reath had heard. Personally he didn’t buy it. Still, if the Jedi Council respected Orla’s decision, so would he. It seemed she felt her path led to the frontier.

Her appearance was as strikingly individual as her choices. She was an Umbaran, with the stark pale skin and high cheekbones common to that species. Her white robes were so pristine that they made her skin appear to have some small measure of color by comparison. Her hair, drawn back into a smooth knot, was a silver nearly as dark as black. Everything about Orla was angular, from the joints of her double-bladed lightsaber down to the corners of her knowing smile.

Which she was giving Reath right then, because he’d been caught staring. He ducked his head and hoped he wasn’t blushing.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” said Master Cohmac Vitus as he walked up to join the waiting group. His resonant voice beneath the hood of his golden robe made each word sound like a judge’s weighty pronouncement. “Hardly any commercial traffic is headed toward Starlight—at least, so far.”

Reath didn’t know Master Cohmac well, though he would’ve liked to. The human man was renowned as both scholar and mystic. He seemed to have footnotes in half the books Reath read, on topics as diverse as ancient Force rituals and high-crisis hostage negotiations. None of that fully explained the mystique that hung about him. Master Cohmac stood at average height for a male of human or near-human species, but seemed taller because of his slender, angular build, the thick black hair he wore almost to his shoulders, and the gravitas of his presence.

Until recently, Reath had often seen Master Cohmac in the Archives. He’d spent many hours seated not far away while both of them dove into holocron after holocron. So why would Master Cohmac have requested a distant duty posting on the frontier? Then it hit Reath: Oh, right, he’s also a folklorist. He’ll be collecting the local histories and legends, probably.

He wondered whether that might be dangerous for Master Cohmac, who was known to be highly sensitive to the Force. Going someplace so wild would surely expose them all to influences none of them had yet dreamed of.