>>5658056>>5658063>>5658066>>5658067>>5658070>>5658076>>5658111>>5658177>>5658209>>5658252>>5658257>>5658275>>5658299>>5658360>>5658445>>5658499>>5658520Out of the aggrieved, you would be the most justified in utterly lambasting Potkin. Granted, you were a late comer to the party, and a gate-crasher at that, but the fact remains is that she was the one who attacked you. Kreia had mentioned something about the “dignity afforded to a master”, but you couldn’t care less about that beyond stating the facts as plainly as possible.
Besides, there’s at least seven other people who have an axe to grind with her. And they can more than make up any foregone lambasting.
Over the comm, you’d only given Master Larid the bare minimum to bring him up to speed. Now that you have the time to completely debrief, the predominant emotion on your master’s face is <span class="mu-i">fury</span>. Not nearly as intense as the same hatred he had when cursing the Storyteller, but it comes very close.
The look on his face is similarly mirrored on the rest of the Triumvirate. Aure is the most vocal – she barely suppresses a curse as you recount how Potkin tried to backstab you. Compared to her compatriots, Kosa is the textbook definition of composed, but there’s no mistaking the sharp, deepening furrow in her brow.
For the most part, your account is delivered without interruptions, only stopping and pausing for the Conclave to supply their perspectives. When you finish, you reach your hand into your robes, and present Master Potkin’s lightsaber, then the cortosis blade intended for Vader that she nearly plunged into your back. More than one member of the Conclave looks notably nervous as the Triumvirate look like they’re about to explode.
But Master Larid beats his peers, stonily declaring: “Shadday Potkin stands censured and attained. Her fate will be settled at a later time, but what this body can agree that she cannot be allowed to roam free.”
Kosa nods gravely. “The remainder of her wounds will be tended to, of course. But until we can determine whether or not she’s Fallen, she cannot be allowed to spread her poison to the rest of the order.”
“You’re sure that she didn’t use the Dark Side?” demands Aure, as serious as you’ve ever seen her.
“No, Master Aure,” you confirm, “It was a frantic duel, but as far as I could tell, she didn’t.”
“One doesn’t have to use the Dark Side to Fall,” your master flatly intones. “But even before this whole mess with the Sith, the High Council would have severely punished this sort of behavior.”
Farr interjects, “Forgive me for interrupting, but do you even have the facilities to contain a Force-sensitive prisoner of Master Potkin’s caliber?”
(cont.)