Slipping Under
The halls of the Jedi Temple were nearly clear when Farris returned to Coruscant that day.
She traveled all the way up to one of the tallest spires, the one next to where the Council used to meet, to one of the only active chambers left this high up.
The window offered her an unobstructed view of Coruscant’s skyline, overlooking the megalopolis as the suns were just beginning to set, bleeding red light over everything and forcing the chairs of the office to create elongated shadows on the floor.
Farris sat in one of the chairs across from the desk, folding her hands carefully in her lap, fingers pointed forward. Her eyes lowered to the floor in deep, troubled thought. Her heart thumped precariously loud in her throat.
Master Valery would be able to pick up on her energy almost as soon as the doors swished apart and she entered the room.
But it must be done. She had to report off on her recent mission to Ansion, and no doubt there would be questions about the attacks she had carried out on Concordia.
She had also requested the debriefing to be private, which was sometimes done, and sometimes not.
But she must tell the Grandmaster, out of everyone. She would understand. Master Valery was so…..empathetic.
Understanding.
But the move to Tython was nearly complete, and Master Noble would not have long to see to this business. She must do it quickly.
