Another "overreach" of the system.
Obviously, children are clearly not to blame and do not bear responsibility for their parents' actions.
But why was the older one recruited and the younger sent to the mines?
Illogical.
The Empire had, and to this day still operates, institutions that even work with such young children as Kyp Durron was at the time.
Another tragedy, of which the Galactic Empire committed hundreds of thousands during its years of existence.
Simply because it treated sentients as expendable material not worth attention.
What we are seeing now is a direct continuation of the population stratification policy that irritates the people, but the ruling class doesn't care about their opinion exactly until moments when the actions of citizens determine the preservation of the interests of those in power.
"Judging by your story, you became an orphan at twelve," I said.
"Yes," Kyp nodded gloomily.
The memories came hard to him, but his behavior toward me became more neutral than initially.
Hostility was fading, but this was not yet trust.
This was just neutrality, and one careless movement, word, action could shake it in either direction.
"I suspect you found someone who took care of you."
In fact, I knew this for certain, but I was curious what the boy himself would say.
His dialogue is a way to understand the level of his communicativeness and openness that I managed to achieve.
"An elderly woman who spent part of her sentence in the spice tunnels helped me," Kyp stated.
And so far, this matches what I know.
"She told me that I have huge potential inside me and showed me how to do some things," a belated caution appeared in Kyp's voice.
The words no longer flew out of him at the speed of a misfiring blaster repeater.
The boy realized that he had almost told me something for which Imperials usually punished.
And, despite my assurances, he was still afraid...
"You have nothing to fear," I stated.
Kyp looked tense.
Like a small spring whose ends are drawn to the limit.
It could snap at any moment...
It could have, if not for the presence of the ysalamiri at our meeting.
"I suspect you're trying to use the Force right now, as that woman taught you," I said.
Judging by the lip-chewing that started— I guessed correctly.
"And you're puzzled that you don't feel it," I continued. "Don't worry, the Force hasn't abandoned you. It's with you."
"I haven't felt it since the moment I was brought aboard the ship," the boy complained.
"That's right," I agreed. "The Force is blocked aboard my ship when Force-sensitives are on it."
"Why?" Durron flared up. "So it would be easier to kill me?!"
"No," I stated firmly. "I have no inclination to kill my guests, especially children. The Force is blocked for reasons that when I decided to sever all ties with the Empire, it turned out that among my subordinates there was a dark Jedi."
"A dark Jedi?" the boy frowned. "First time I've heard of such."
Unlikely.
I think Vima-Da-Boda told him about fallen Jedi and Sith.
But perhaps she kept it to herself.
"You've heard of Jedi, haven't you?" I asked.
"Yes," the boy looked away.
Which proves his awareness, but some awkwardness.
He feels internal tension, hiding something.
Well, his little secrets are known to me.
"Jedi are quite controversial figures in galactic history," I said. "The Empire officially considered them enemies, the Republic—friends. Among the galactic population, there were those who both feared and revered them. Dark Jedi, however, are those Jedi who decided not to serve something greater, not peace, not justice, but only their selfish impulses. And for that, they used the Force, endangering the lives of those around them. Jedi previously eliminated such individuals, killing or imprisoning them. Unfortunately, some members of the Order fell themselves, becoming dark. The history is quite tangled and largely depends on the point of view."
"But why did you need a dark Jedi?" Kyp asked with the same suspicion in his voice.
"When separate terrorist structures of the Republic began attacking Imperial worlds that I was defending at the time, I needed to coordinate my ships' forces. On one of the planets, I discovered this dark Jedi, and for a while, he really did help me. Right up until I realized he was becoming dangerous. He expressed desires to subjugate the remaining Jedi, raise them in his own image and likeness, force simple peoples to serve the Jedi, putting them at the head of the state. I disagreed with this policy because it too closely resembled what Emperor Palpatine did."
"But he was just a regular human!"
"Unfortunately—no, Kyp," I objected. "There are those who are sometimes worse than dark Jedi—Sith. Palpatine was a Sith. This is a religious movement compared to which dark Jedi are children. Palpatine seized power in the Republic, turning it into the Empire, precisely to rid himself of the Jedi, who were long-time enemies of the Sith in the latter's aspirations to rule the galaxy. Having come to power, Palpatine hunted and destroyed the last Jedi or turned them to his side. During the years of the Empire's existence, Force-sensitive sentients could either serve Palpatine or be unconditionally destroyed. If those who repressed your family had learned that you are Force-sensitive, your fate could have ended very sadly."
"But Palpatine is dead! He was killed at Endor! And Darth Vader too!"
"Unfortunately, from my sources, I know that the Emperor survived," I stated. "He managed to cheat death with the help of the Force, and now the Imperial Remnants, on his orders, are waging war across the galaxy, intending to restore the state that was before. But they do it even more bloodily, devastatingly, mercilessly. The Dominion, though it lives by Imperial laws, did not join them. We have our own destiny, and we will never serve a madman. But under his command is an army—millions of ruthless soldiers. He controls thousands, if not tens of thousands, of warships. And dark Jedi. Each of them is an individual who unconditionally does what they deem necessary. And it doesn't matter if it's the murder of one person or the death of entire planets."
"And you want to fight this power?" the boy gasped.
"I am preparing for this confrontation," again—no cunning. Why lie if it corresponds to reality? I can oppose a fleet on the battlefield. I have soldiers and generals to fight ground forces. And I even have several of my own Force-sensitives who preach using the Force to protect sentients. They call themselves the Order of the Jen'saarai, and they greatly help us in protecting our borders, catching spies and saboteurs."
"Are they Jedi?" the boy clarified.
"Some," I admitted. "Others served Palpatine in the past, but even they found the wisdom to leave that pernicious path and join the side of simple sentients, not a mad tyrant. They atone for their past sins by fighting for the lives of Dominion citizens."
"I haven't seen any of your Jedi on Kessel or aboard the Star Destroyer," the boy said.
"At the moment, they are training to be ready for future battles," I explained. "Emperor Palpatine has not yet manifested himself, using his puppets from the Imperial Remnants. Therefore, the Jen'saarai are not yet involved. Besides, their philosophy is defense, not offense. When the enemy attacks, they will be with us in the ranks. But they cannot attack first, even though the enemy is preparing to attack the Dominion. Their worldview doesn't allow it."
"Then they are useless!" the boy exclaimed. "If I knew Imperials were going to attack my family, I would have attacked them first!"
"Are you sure you could win?" I asked. "That you would have enough Force and knowledge to prevail? Or should you first learn to wield the Force, and until then, do what you can to save the lives of others?"
The embarrassed youth looked at me.
"Yes, you're right," he said. "You have to learn... But if I knew then that Imperials were coming to Deyer, I would have warned my family so they could be ready!"
"Then you understand why I, upon learning that Palpatine is alive and the madness of his rule may soon repeat, gathered leaders and influential members of the New Republic and told them about the impending threat," I continued. "Unfortunately, due to stereotypes that all Imperials are 'evil,' they didn't believe me. As a result, people and other sentients are dying, planets are being bombarded."
"You should have convinced them!"
"The deaf won't hear, and the blind won't see," I objected. "The Republic is used to considering Imperials enemies. I offered cooperation, to eliminate the misunderstandings that arose between us, but nothing came of it. As a result, they are fighting now—while we gather strength."
"But... shouldn't you help them?" the boy asked.
"Sticking your nose where you're not wanted is a guarantee that, as a result of resolving the crisis, you'll end up on the losing side, declared one of the instigators," I stated. "We are not altruists to protect those who are deaf to our warnings."
"But... you have to do something," Durron got angry. "You can't just sit and wait for the Imperials to win everyone!"
"We are not spending time in idleness, Kyp," I explained. "Our troops are preparing, ships are being brought into order, training and replenishment of units with personnel is happening. We are monitoring the situation in the galaxy and are ready to repel an attack. But at the same time, we are engaging in confrontation directly at our borders."
"With whom?"
"The Zann Consortium," I explained readily. "The masters of Morut Dul and those mercenaries who held Kessel from capture."
"You even have conflicts with them?" the boy was surprised.
"When you choose your own path different from the rest, enemies and adversaries will always be there," I said figuratively.
"But in that case, why do you need me?" Durron asked.
"I offer you to join the Order of the Jen'saarai," it seemed the boy wasn't particularly surprised by what was said. "You will have the opportunity to learn the ways of the Force and direct it in the right direction—protecting the peaceful population. Yes, I cannot return your family to you—father and mother—but at the same time, your brother, Zeth, may still be alive," I allow the subjunctive mood, because there is no probability that the boy, due to all those changes in reality that occurred with my direct involvement, really survived. It would be foolish to promise what I cannot fulfill. "And if he is alive, my people will find him and return him. Of course, if he wishes it himself."
The boy was silent for some time, then asked:
"You'll only return him if I join you, right?"
"I will do everything possible to return him," the logical emphases made must be presented correctly to minimize risks of unfulfilled promises. "I won't deceive you and assure you that Zeth is alive, wasn't sent to war, or somehow got lost in the galaxy. The Dominion does not maintain relations with Carida, and I cannot guarantee you that his brother is on that planet. No one can, except his command. Over which I, unfortunately, have absolutely no power."
"An honest answer," the teenager pursed his lips. "You don't hear that often from Imperials."
"For that reason, among others, I no longer serve the Empire," the words practically slipped off my tongue automatically.
"I'll think about your words," after a short deliberation, the teenager said. "If Zeth returns from Carida alive and well, then I will learn your Jedi art. But if he is dead, I see no point in staying in the Dominion and starting training. Nothing ties me to your state or you. You pulled me from Kessel because you need a Jedi. But I managed pretty well there too. So promise that you won't detain me if I want to leave, if my brother doesn't turn out to be delivered to a safe place."
The logic is a bit lame, as are the phrasing accuracies, but what can you expect from a boy who is only sixteen or seventeen?
Especially when hormones and youthful maximalism are rampant in his head instead of gray matter working.
Kyp Durron seems not to understand that in case of his refusal, he will in no way leave the Dominion.
History shows that at this age he is inconsistent, vulnerable, and extremely vengeful.
In the history known to me, he avoided punishment for the destruction of Carida and its population.
He atoned for it by hunting pirates and smugglers in the Outer Rim.
And, as practice shows, when he reappeared on the galactic stage, he was arrogant, selfish, uncontrollable.
It's simply dangerous to leave such alive.
But... to kill a child...
Cold-bloodedly, without any regret, only because he did something in a history that hasn't even begun yet...
Punishment for a hypothetical crime...
Is that right?
Unequivocally—no.
To justify myself by the fact that one way or another the boy may snap, and therefore he needs to be killed—is a direct path to preemptive orbital bombardments at the slightest suspicion of disobedience.
And then to a second Alderaan.
No, resolutely and irrevocably.
While the search for his brother continues, maximum efforts must be made so that the boy absorbs the philosophy of the Jen'saarai and wants to stay here to continue his path as a Jen'saarai.
Even if his brother has indeed acquired another fate, different from the one I know from the books.
Somehow I need to keep the kid with me in any case.
Hm... Let's fix the thought.
I think I know how.
"I will do everything to find your brother and bring him to the Dominion," I repeated. "And in exchange, you will serve the Dominion. Who knows, perhaps you will be the one to finally defeat Emperor Palpatine, avenging him for everything your family went through."
The boy tensed, clearly realizing that he had just been all but directly offered to participate in hunting a dangerous animal.
Yes, it's wrong—to manipulate the boy's feelings.
Just as it's wrong that I recruited former Imperial guards, stormtroopers, prisoners.
But I did it.
Fully understanding that the instructors in the Dominion will have time to turn the exhausted and tired sentients into full-fledged and combat-ready units for performing responsible tasks where Dominion stormtroopers shouldn't openly declare their presence.
Yes, these people and other sentients are recruited from former Imperials and prisoners only because most of my regular fleet's ground forces are already clones.
Sending whom to the front lines and covert operations is foolish.
Much more foolish than personally recruiting sentients on Kessel.
It will take quite some time before the instructors turn these sentients into soldiers capable of fighting again.
Time that the fleet and intelligence will win for them by conducting their own operations against the Zann Consortium.
Time that the Jen'saarai and counterintelligence will need to check who among the recruited intends harm toward the Dominion.
Because before the active phase of operations begins, those recruited who, once armed, try to eliminate their commanders to escape must be weeded out.
We will identify such immediately and eliminate them to preserve the combat effectiveness of the entire recruited unit.
Looking at the silently chewing porridge boy, whose rage could cost millions of lives, I could only marvel at how inventive and cruel fate can be at times.
***
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