She was stone. She would not break. She was stone. She was stone.

The mantra took up a place in her heart, beating in time with the blood pulsing beneath her skin.

The Council chamber, a large, circular room lined with twelve evenly-spaced chairs of varying styles, glowed in the ambient light of the city beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. Each seat was filled, some with a physical person, others with flickering blue holograms, and all had their focus trained on Elena as she made her way to the center of the room, her heels clicking lowly on the intricate marble floor.

It took considerable effort not to stare at the foreign species, hologram or no. Other than the two human males, there was only one other species she recognized—a holographic female with the same elegant head tails and markings as Ahsoka, only longer.

Mature, Elena realized. This was what a full-grown togruta looked like. What Ahsoka would one day look like.

A quick scan uncovered no additional exits, but plenty of the windows she had envisioned. A fully-dark sky was barely visible past the overwhelming light pollution.

It took only a second to spot Kenobi, seated in the 11 o'clock position, arms braced on the rests of his chair with one ankle casually propped on the opposite knee. The general was a picture of serenity—his posture relaxed, face clear—as he monitored the room.

However, it was the squat, green being peering at her through ageless eyes that commanded her attention. It was unsettling, and the power radiating from him? was unlike anything she had felt before—vast and primal, like an ancient lake of untold fathoms hidden in the roots of a mountain.

The room went still as she came to a stop in the center of the ring—a pause in the game as both parties waited for the other to make their move. The hair on the back of Elena's neck stood on end, a low buzzing electrifying the air.

A check of her mental defenses revealed no weak points, but she strengthened them all the same.

The ghost of a breeze whispered, a breath of wind gliding past her face as luminous hazel eyes blinked. The gesture was deliberate, measuring, but not weary. No, only a fool would believe this creature to be weak.

"Guardian Hillard," Kenobi said. Elena turned her head instinctively to him as he spoke. "this is Grand Master Yoda, Head of the Jedi Order." He indicated the crouched figure, whose calculating expression set her teeth on edge.

Elongated ears pricked upward, and Elena's attention was once again on the diminutive grand master as it rumbled in an odd throaty voice, "Agreed to speak with us, you did."

No preamble. No false words of propriety. Just an unwavering stare and the consciousness of eleven other beings as they monitored her every breath.

The buzzing in the air intensified, prickling against her skin as Elena surreptitiously surveyed the room. A move had been made, a cautious one, giving up nothing in its attempt to feel her out.

That was fine. Elena dueled with words as often as magic. More so. Politicians, it seemed, were the same be they muggle or wizard-kind. It always came down to words.

She had always envied her brother—and Stark, she thought ruefully—his quick wit. Words came easy to him, clever quips and retorts flowing freely, enabling him to win nearly every argument he entered into. Elena, on the other hand, had never possessed the trait. Tactical silence, on the other hand, was one of her better tools, her patience enabling her to outlast the most stalwart of verbal opponents. However, she had a sinking suspicion that would not be the case in this interview.

Elena kept her features bland and her voice even as she said, "With all due respect, Master Yoda, it wasn't presented as optional."

A curious chuckle emitted from the grand master. The sound lilting in a unique pattern as his features scrunched thoughtfully.

"Options, there always are. Though some, easier to distinguish they can be."

Elena said nothing. Another move, another step around the circle.

"Master Kenobi has informed us of the—unusual—circumstances surrounding your appearance on Sullust." This time it was the dark-skinned man sat at Master Yoda's left who spoke. His dark eyes held none of the careful warmth as those of his counterpart, though Elena couldn't help but feel as if she had met him before. "Care to explain how you arrived in the middle of an active warzone?" he questioned.

"I was under the impression Master Kenobi had already done so," Elena parried.

The man's features darkened as he opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off as a master with a conical head said, "We'd like to hear your version of the events."

Fire licked her blood at yet another sidestep. Patience, she reminded herself. The flames—so close to the surface these days—subsided slightly, but did not retreat fully. Fire, unlike the other elements, was influenced by strong emotions, and with all the changes that had been wreaked upon her life in the past few days, Elena felt like she could burn the stars. But not now. The game was still in play—her opponents at the ready. The circles would have to end if they were to move forward. Someone would have to yield.

The headlights of a passing vehicle shone briefly through the room, deepening the lines etched in tired faces. Tired. The realization hit Elena like a bludger. These people were exhausted, the collective essence of it permeating the atmosphere, weighing her down like a loadstone around her neck. She knew they were at war, but this—this was something more, something soul deep.

Ebony talons flashed briefly through her mind, their oily essence coating the memory.

The presence that had attempted to enter her mind was comprised of a darkness far worse than anything she had encountered before—the malevolent blackness of slaughter fields and freshly dug graves, of souls torn beyond repair. Was that what they were attempting to fight? What had drained them to near husks?

Elena contemplated her options, doing her best to ignore the cramp steadily forming in her lower spine. Think, think, think, her mind seemed to scream. The Council didn't care about her version of the events. Odds were, they were hoping she would reveal something that had been left out of Kenobi's original report. But what…?

"What is it you're really after, Masters?" The politely spoken attack hung in the air. For a moment, Elena worried they would continue their circular questioning.

"A threat analysis." The sudden reply came from the dark-skinned master—she still didn't know his name—the blunt words striking a chord deep in Elena's memory. The man leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees and hands folded as he pinned her with a stare too piercing to be unrehearsed.

Elena grinned inwardly. Finally, someone ready to play.

The master continued his assault, oblivious to her inner monologue.

"The only thing that is obvious Ms. Hillard is that you have immense power and no declared allegiances in this war. We need to know how much of a possible danger you are to the Republic." He finished speaking, leveling a harsh, measuring look at Elena as grim amusement filled her.

The frankness—bordering on rudeness—was a breath of fresh air, and the petty part of her mind debated side-stepping again just to get another taste. However, progress was being made, and she was loath to lose it.

"None," she said. "I have no part in your war. I just want to return to my realm and resume my duties as its guardian."

The dark-skinned master hummed disbelievingly, his concerns by no means assuaged. "And just how do you plan on doing that?"

Check. This guy was going right for the throat. Careful her mind said. These were people not used to being dictated to. Demands would not be met kindly.

Elena's eyes briefly sought the floor as she carefully selected her next words, seeming to weigh them on her tongue before speaking. "I am certain this Council is by now aware that your galaxy's technology exceeds that of my own planet's in many ways." She cast her eyes on the faces surrounding her, her expressionless mask mirrored a dozen times over throughout the room. "I had hoped, you might be able to direct me to a ship or other form of transport that would take me home."

The silence that followed was deafening—the tension thick as the focus of the room shifted to the hunched grand master. None would meet her eyes. The chamber seemed to darken even further as unease crept into her gut. Doubt swirled in and the flames she was forever keeping at bay rose higher, flushing her skin with heat.

Master Yoda bowed his head as he spoke, his knotted, three-fingered hands clutching the head of the twisted cane.

Elena stared at the grand master, her heart pounding a tattoo against her ribs. Her sweaty hands clutched the hem of her blazer, irrevocably creasing the material.

Don't say it. Don't you dare say it, her mind pleaded silently.

"Exist in this galaxy many wonders do. Surrounded by them, we are," Master Yoda said, pride and something Elena couldn't quite identify mixing together in an odd rumbling cadence, "but return you to your galaxy, we cannot."

Elena's world stopped. Stopped, then started again as she processed the information and all its implications.

Checkmate.

Kenobi said something at this point, but Elena didn't hear it as she struggled to take in this drastic turn of events. The headlights of passing vehicles flashed brightly across her vision, blinding her as her overwrought mind fought to think its way out of this situation. There had to be a way. Something. Anything.

Vaguely, through the fog that clouded her brain, Elena heard another master speak up, his voice strangely muffled as though he was speaking to her underwater.

"Inter-galaxy travel is unprecedented." Elena jolted, staggering slightly as she spun to find the source. The speaker was a master with a curious facemask and goggles attached to a head that Elena was at a loss for words to describe. Dressed in brown robes that seemed ubiquitous within the Jedi, his hands were steepled in front of him with a massive talon extending from the middle finger of each. "Assuming you are unable to return to your home planet, what then? Will you retain your neutrality? Word of your arrival is bound to get out eventually and to beings with more sway than the Jedi. What will you do then?"

That was an excellent question. In all honestly, Elena didn't know. She hadn't planned on sticking around long enough to find out. With the abundance of technology surrounding her, the thought of being unable to return her to her galaxy had only fleetingly crossed her mind. Now, her lack of planning was biting her in the ass. Panic gripped her, an icy rage encasing her racing heart. She was well and truly stuck here for an unforeseen amount of time, and—everything came to a shuddering halt as a thought struck her.

And Kenobi had known the entire time. They all had known the entire time and hadn't bothered to mention it.

Flames burning hotly beneath her skin a moment ago, turned to ice. No, no, no, no. The word spiraled inside her skull. How would she get back? How did—

Stop.

She was trapped here with no way home.

Stop. Breathe. Think.

Stone. She was stone. Air filled her lungs in a calming wave as Elena breathed deeply. She concentrated on reeling in her torrential emotions. Panic would bury her just as effectively as a shovel if she wasn't careful.

But—trapped? She pushed the thought to the back of her mind. There would be time enough to think about that later. Focus on the task at hand: avoid space prison.

Slowly, she said, "My end goal will always be to go home. In the meantime…" The words died on her lips as the full weight of being in a galaxy where she had no ID, money, or connections and technically didn't even exist hit her square in the chest. This situation well and truly sucked.

The dark-skinned master raised an eyebrow, the silence stretching long as the Council waited for her to continue. Her options were limited at best: stay with the Jedi (if they would have her) or strike out on her own. Either way, it looked like she would have to find her own way back.

"In the meantime," Elena continued, steeling herself as addressed the Council as a whole, "I would like to research a way back. As I said, I'm not involved in your war, but I'm willing to help where I can in return for the assistance your colleagues have given me." Politeness dictated she say the last part, but the words still tasted bitter coming out. There always seemed to be another war to fight. She wondered fleetingly if this was what Rogers felt like all the time. "In regards to your other concern, it is not the way of the Guardians to pledge an allegiance to any but their home planet. If you're worried about me going off and joining the highest bidder, don't." She directed the last words to the dark-skinned master in particular.

The masters studied her, no doubt weighing her sincerity, and a static energy once more pricked at her consciousness. Not directed at her. No, this energy felt more around her. Wisps of thought gliding smoothly through the air with no tangible body or sound. Kenobi had called it "consulting the Force," but that didn't seem right at the moment. This was a calling, a conversation of feelings, insubstantial touches, and phantom winds.

Though she marveled at the power, Elena tried not to dwell in it too much—that sense of being warmly wrapped in the soul of the universe. She had one job at the moment, and these Jedi and their Force were a means to an end.

A shiver traced down her spine in a slow caress as she recalled the dark thing waiting for her as she attempted meditation in the antechamber. The malignant passiveness with which it seemed to view the world around it. That too had come from the Force.

The energy subsided after a moment, the air calming back to its normal state.

The dark-skinned master shared a nod with Master Yoda, the two coming to some unspoken agreement. The nod was echoed by Kenobi and the master next to him, continuing around the circle as each of the gathered masters weighed in. Elena felt her ears warming—her heart beating wildly in her chest as her fate was actively decided. She resisted the urge to turn around as the nodding extended past her peripheral vision.

The muscles in her shoulders began to burn, and the need to stretch her cramped back became an almost irresistible compulsion.

Come on!

The soft rustling of a cloak brought her attention back to the verdant grand master. Clawed hands rearranged their grip upon the crooked cane, lines creasing their backs in a veritable labyrinth of overlapping paths. Swathed in neutral brown and taupe, the creature was at odds with the pristine cleanliness and modern design of the city-planet—a being seemingly plucked from another time and place.

"Agreed, it is," Master Yoda said, gravely voice echoing oddly off the smooth walls of the chamber. "Free, Guardian Hillard will remain. A threat, she does not pose to the Republic."

The verdict, while gratifying, didn't please Elena as much as she had hoped. She was free… Now what?

Elena belatedly realized they were waiting for her to speak.

Guardians didn't bow, but Elena allowed her chin to dip marginally as she said formally, "Thank you, Masters. Your confidence in me is much appreciated."

More nods were passed around and a few of the holographs clicked off, their absence noticeably dimming the room.

"You're free to go Guardian Hillard. Padawan Tahn will see you out," Kenobi said, indicating the double sliding doors through which she had entered.

Wait. That was it?! There was one more thing Elena needed to address while she was here.

Elena shifted uncomfortably, clearing her throat as politely as she could. Instantly, she felt the focus of the room return to herself as the masters came out of whatever consultation they had been in a moment ago. A siren wailed in the distance, faint in the vibrant night of the city. Elena shifted her weight from foot to foot, glancing once at the ground before righting her position. Stop fidgeting! Just ask. It wasn't like she had any other options.

"Is there something else you wish to add Guardian Hillard?" Kenobi asked courteously.

"Yes." Her answer came out slightly hoarse. Hastily clearing throat, she tried again. "Yes. I was wondering if, for the time being, I could be allowed to stay at the Temple? I'll look for a job, and as soon as I can afford rent, I'll be out of your hair."

The last words tumbled out of her mouth in a rush, her nerves getting the best of her. Elena was no stranger to couch surfing, but that didn't mean she didn't feel bad about it.

The grand master's curious chuckle filled the room once more. "Necessary, that will not be," Master Yoda said, with what Elena could only guess was a smile crinkling the corners of his already crinkled eyes. "Stay here you will, Guardian Hillard."

As soon as the doors to the council chamber shut behind the foreign guardian, and the remainder of the Council members had shuffled out to attend their other duties or catch a few hours of sleep, Master Windu turned to Yoda, piercing him with the same stare he had used on Hillard not half and hour ago.

"You know a person with Hillard's powers cannot be kept a secret for long. When the Separatists find out, they will hunt her down, neutral or not, and that's not even mentioning what the Senate will do."

The elder master sighed, seemingly weighed down by the knowledge. "Hide her in plain sight, we will. Similar enough to pass as a Jedi, her powers are."

"There are too many involved. Half the 501st saw her arrival. Questions will be asked. A surge in the Force that strong…" Windu trailed off shaking his head. "We won't be the only ones to have felt it."

"Dooku and his agents you mean."

"To start." The two masters sat in silence, the muffled sounds of the city beyond filling the still night air. The shroud that enveloped the Force was felt most strongly on Coruscant, its currents masked and murky to even the most experienced in the Order.

Windu dragged a hand down his face, eyes burning from lack of sleep as he looked at the grand master. "They will trace her here eventually."

"Yes. Danger, there is, but prepared to meet it, we must be."

The vague answer did little to satisfy Windu. He couldn't help but think Yoda was being purposefully obtuse. "And when word of all this, gets out?"

"Then a friend, I hope we will have made in Guardian Hillard."

The words hung in the air as Windu contemplated all that they implied. Word would get out, and soon the field would be full of those trying to get their hands on the guardian.

With no end in sight, the war was continuing to claim lives everyday with not hope for peace. Maybe a new player was what was needed to turn the tide.