“What are we waiting for?” Orla said. “For someone else to get hurt or killed? That station’s still in use by smugglers and free traders. Even if they’re engaging in illegal activity, that’s no excuse for exposing them to that kind of danger.”

It was Cohmac who answered her, though it was to the others he spoke. “Transit to that area is still hazardous. Most of the Jedi close by are assigned to Starlight Beacon, and are busy handling the fallout there. You do not have the Masters to spare.”

“We don’t need Masters,” Orla insisted. “We took that seal down on our own; we can put it back, too.”

“You would be unnecessarily endangering yourselves,” Poreht La said. “We’ve lost too many courageous Jedi in this disaster to take such risks. Yes, this must be done. The Council will soon establish a party to go to the Amaxine station. Just not yet. For now”—he gestured at the idols—“these should be removed to a safer location, and the shrine sealed once again.”

“Of course. I will take charge of it personally.” Cohmac accepted so easily that Orla felt she couldn’t object without coming across like a crank. As they left the chamber, Orla’s head was pounding. She was determined to talk with Cohmac and see if she couldn’t win him over. If both of them presented a united front, the Council might actually listen.

Instead, almost as soon as the doors had closed, Cohmac turned to her and spoke under his breath. “You will notice that they didn’t actually forbid us to go.”

“They didn’t, did they?” Orla’s head felt better already.

“On our first mission together, we made a mistake,” Cohmac said. “Now we have made another. But this one, at least, we can put right—and I intend to do it.”

Acceptance, even resignation, was a skill the Jedi were meant to master. All their skills and all their authority could not set every situation right. The Order might call on them to do things and go places they would not have chosen. Any great Jedi could accept this swiftly and even painlessly.

It was a skill Reath was still working on, with little success.

Since he had no assigned tasks at the moment, and no master to assign any, he was responsible for filling his own time. Memories of Master Jora and Dez pricked him from every side. Everything he’d done or learned during the past few years was tied to one or both of the people he’d lost. Concentration was impossible. Instead, he’d taken himself to his favorite place, the only sure source of comfort he knew.