My happiness knew no bounds—right up until the moment I saw the planet we'd arrived at. Leaving the shuttle with the other passengers, my smile withered fast as soon as I took in the view.
"Shade, what's wrong?" Irbis came to stand beside me. Right by the landing pad and terminal there was a corridor leading into the dome-city, with transparent windows offering a view of the planet.
And, by the way, it was a thoroughly depressing view. A lifeless desert covered in smoke and soot, with factories working in the distance. You could barely see the sky, let alone the stars, and you could only breathe with a suit.
Kriff… and this planet used to be lush, with plenty of wildlife and vegetation. But as resources were extracted and factories built, the ecology simply ceased to exist. I get building dome-cities on planets that were never fit for life, but here… Nox was simply murdered. I'd found photos of what the planet looked like in its pristine state. Not a trace of its former grandeur remained…
"Shade?"
"Just thinking." I looked back at Irbis. "Tell me—what kind of being do you have to be to trash your own planet like this, the one you live on?" I nodded at the view beyond the armored glass. It involuntarily made me think of Earth—those drawn caricatures with smoking factories, a gray, bleak world.
"It gets to you?" He looked off into the distance.
"You know what—yes. It gets to me. I don't understand why you'd do that. There are filters, special purification equipment, even waste-recycling plants! On Ska-Gora, for example, they protect the ecology just fine even though there are mines and quarries there—and that's an entire preserve world!"
"That's why Ska-Gora is guarded so carefully. After what happened to Nox, the people of Ska-Gora decided to forbid settlement on the planet and moved into floating cities themselves."
"So to understand the value of your own planet, you have to see a shitty example?"
"No, but at the time the planet-cleansing campaign turned out to be too expensive. So instead of cleaning the planet, they just…" He hesitated.
"Decided to finish it off," I completed for him. "A phenomenal decision. I mean, sure—why bother with small steps? The climate is dead anyway, everything's already screwed, so why worry now? I can guess that after that, they started deliberately relocating industrial centers here. Including chemical production."
"Yes. That's exactly what happened," Irbis sighed.
"Then why didn't the Jedaii interfere?"
"Because they were among the participants in that… process," my teacher grimaced. "We're not peacekeepers, Shade. If you knew Jedaii history better, you'd know how much blood trails behind us. And that, by the way, is your main profile—fighting and killing."
"I see it a little differently."
"How so?"
"If I'm ordered to kill someone I personally consider innocent, I won't carry out the order, Irbis. I'm not an executioner who mindlessly takes the lives of whoever someone points at."
"But it will be your duty. With your interests and… peculiarities, you won't become anything else."
"You're wrong. Irbis, you've already figured out I'm far from the Order in my views. So I'm not particularly worried about being expelled."
"Explain?"
"The Order is trying to find harmony with the Force around us. But how can we find harmony out there when there isn't a speck of it inside us? And no, I'm not talking about self-control." I cut him off as soon as he opened his mouth. "We're fine on that. I'm talking about our view of the Force itself. We know it's with us. That it's inside us. So why does nobody even think about trying to understand it?"
"Mmm. I don't understand your point of view. The Force is one. It's with us and around us. It sustains us, and we learn to wield it while maintaining balance."
"Irbis, that's not what I mean. The Force inside us is like an invisible organ—something that exists, something that works, something we use without even noticing it and take for granted. Do you understand…" I looked into the distance. "…it's hard to explain, but I'll try. Since early childhood, we comprehend the Force as a tool. The dark side and the light side—two sides of the same coin—and we learn to balance between them. You learn to balance between them. But I don't understand that. I don't understand why you'd switch yourself from one to the other when, in essence, they're one whole. It's with us, it's inside us, so why don't we use it that way?"
"Maybe because… it's dangerous?" Irbis glanced at me sideways, asking carefully.
"Maybe. I know the Force can drive you insane; plenty of examples are sitting on both moons. To be honest… I don't really understand those processes, but at the same time I believe the Force is One. I… I believe it with my whole soul. More than that, we ourselves believe that after death we go into the Unified Force. And the dark and light sides are derivatives of the whole."
"But then you have to balance between darkness and light."
"More like you have to control yourself very carefully."
"And… how is it?" What's with him? It felt like he was probing me. "Is it working?"
"More or less. Though sometimes it's hard. The common training methods don't work on me. More than that, after them my head hurts, sometimes fits of anger come rolling in, and other times I just want to lie down and do nothing. When I trained in Qigong Kesh it was very hard, but now it's tolerable. Either way, I have to adapt old techniques to my personal abilities—and the result won't always work. At least not more than barely."
"Mmm…"
"And also, when working with the Force, I got the impression there's a filter."
"How so?"
"When we draw in the Force, we filter it, making it safe. You don't go insane when you intentionally disrupt balance, do you?" I glanced at Irbis and snorted. "You don't. But when there's a high concentration of strictly light or strictly dark energy, the filter stops coping, and that's when your roof starts leaking. If you 'repair' that filter, control returns. If you don't…" I sighed. "Then nothing will help. Of course there are many conditions and factors affecting this, but I think you got the point."
Irbis nodded.
"An unusual view, but coherent. Where did you pick that up?"
"Mom talked about fallen Jedaii. A lot. And she gave me things to read. Instead of running around outside with other kids, I spent evenings with a book, studying whatever interested me. She also tried to teach me the traditional practice, but it didn't really come to me, so I went my own way."
"And do you have proof of the hypothesis? Experiments, evidence?"
"Nope. It's just my own ideas, formed after analyzing what I read. I don't have enough knowledge or practice, so sorry—I can't offer anything except a hypothesis."
"And… what will you do with it? Go to the Jedaii Council?"
"Of course not."
"But you'll defend your point of view, won't you?"
"Why would I? If the Council knew what's going on in my head, they would've thrown me out of the Order long ago. Like they did with Father. Mom just keeps her opinion to herself, even though hers also differs from the standard."
"You're mistaken. The theory is coherent and fits the Code. Expulsion is out of the question—more likely they'll try to retrain you into more traditional methods of wielding the Force."
"Heh, thanks, but I'll pass. My gut drops at the thought of having to go through the whole path again."
"And not only your gut," the Noghri murmured quietly, thoughtfully.
"What-what?"
"I'm saying I get you now. So why did you tell me all this?"
"Are you my teacher or did you just step out for a walk?" I turned to Irbis, and he snorted softly. "Besides, you're a Master of Balance. You know the foundations regarding the Force and balance better than I do. Who else would I debate this with if not you?"
"Fair point. But there won't be a debate."
"Why?"
"Your hypothesis is viable—more than viable…" For a moment it seemed like he wanted to add something, but he checked himself. Kriff, what's with him today? "Ahem. But a hypothesis requires confirmation. I won't dispute it, and I won't agree with it either. But if you keep following it, I'd very much like to see where you ultimately end up."
"Watch all you like." I shrugged.
"I mean—share your thoughts as it develops."
"Heh. You'll get thoughts. Just don't regret it."
"Thank you. And on that note, I suggest we return to business. We're being awaited."
"By whom?"
"As I said, the sides didn't reach an agreement on their own, so we'll sort it out." He shrugged. "And we'll act peacefully." He looked at me. "I said peacefully, Shade."
"And what about me?"
"We'll also see what you retained."
"A bullet to the forehead is an excellent way to conduct negotiations."
"You're incorrigible," Irbis shook his head.
"I'm kidding. But seriously—should I go take a walk right away, or…" I made a vague gesture.
"No. This time you won't leave my side for a step. I don't need you staging some kind of coup here."
"You decided to put me on a leash?" I noted the fact that Irbis really was trying not to leave me alone for long.
"I want you to learn to think, not just swing a blade. Watch, remember, and analyze how negotiations should be conducted."
"Got it. You're the boss, I'm the idiot."
"You can't stop wisecracking," Irbis shook his head, glancing at my satisfied face.
The city we entered was drastically different from the picture outside the window. Some buildings served as support pillars for the dome at the same time and stretched all the way up to the ceiling. There weren't many—only six—but it looked epic.
Also, unlike Shikaakwa, which felt like a junction between the fifteenth and the twenty-second century, this place had something vaguely cyberpunk about it. Narrow streets, glowing signs, crowds of every kind of being. From guys in dirty work coveralls to men in decent suits with personal security. Ordinary residents were there too, but mostly it was the working class walking the city. Sure—what did I expect from a factory planet? Calling it a forge world was premature, but give it another millennium or two and it could easily live up to that proud title.
"Shade?" Irbis glanced at me when I rubbed my nose again in irritation.
"The air. It's annoying," I grumbled, trying to use the Force to push away the irritation in my throat. The air really was strange here. Mechanical, dry, with notes of oil. Unpleasant.
"That's just unfamiliarity. You'll get used to it with time."
"So it's like this everywhere on Nox?"
"No. It depends on the air-purification system. This city's system is old; where it's newer, it handles it better. But overall the air is unpleasant everywhere—just to different degrees."
"Yeah. On one planet there are maniacs, on another the atmosphere makes your eyes water. What's next—regular meteor showers, plus earthquakes and tornadoes?"
"Mmm, no. We're not flying to Sunburn yet," Irbis said with a grin, shaking his head.
"Did I guess that? Seriously? Kriff… send me back to Tython."
"Pff-ha-ha-ha-ha…"
"What are you laughing at? I'm serious!"
"Heh-heh-heh-heh. That's nothing—you haven't been to Krev-Kyor. That's a fairy tale. Superheated atmosphere, the surface covered in crystals, normal travel only possible through caves—and those are full of hungry local wildlife."
"Fantastic," I shook my head. Yeah, Tython turns out not to be the worst planet in the system. The whole system is one big kriffing mess.
Sighing, I reached into my pocket for a bar. At least some joy in this gray, gloomy world…
"Wha?" I glanced at Irbis.
"Why do you keep eating those all the time? That's a kid's treat. Completely kid's. For gnawing on when your teeth are cutting."
"They're delicious, actually. Mom got me hooked on them. You know how they clear your head?"
"Suspicious bars," he said, genuinely eyeing the treat in my hand.
"Why are you so suspicious? I've eaten them my whole life—nothing happened. Here!" I held out another.
"Shade, if you don't care about your reputation, don't ruin mine at least. I'm not supposed to indulge in that kind of nonsense, status-wise."
"Fine, whatever. Eat. It's an awesome thing."
"…"
"Crunch-crunch-chew."
"…"
"Yum."
"Fine, give it here. I'll try what you're always munching."
"Heh-heh-heh," I said, feeling like a tempting serpent as I handed over the sweet.
"Mmm… yes, there really is something to it. Moderately sweet, hard, high-calorie, with dried meat pieces," the Noghri nodded.
"You know, I think I'll open my own company someday."
"Hm?"
"You know—new bars, marketing, business, the whole thing. And I'll call it: 'Bars of Evil!'"
"Khah-khah-khah…"
"Or: 'Evil Happiness.' Has a ring, doesn't it?"
"Khuh-khuh… o-oh…"
"Irbis, why are you coughing? Did you choke?"
"No. I'm khah-khah… happy for you."
"Yeah, I can really feel your 'happiness.'"
So, word by word, we reached the enterprise that had run into trouble. It was a small company producing electronics for all sorts of things. And shipments went directly to Tython. Went—until now.
During the negotiations I stood nearby and kept out of the spotlight, watching how Irbis conducted them. Turned out the company was being squeezed by "friendly colleagues": first they dumped quartz sand onto the market en masse, and right after that a shortage followed. The paradox was that the company supplying the sand had announced the dumping date in advance, and "their own" had been warned and bought everything up in time.
And when prices spiked, their people simply bought the sand at triple price to push the price even higher, while the supplier company returned part of the funds to the buyer by buying equipment from that same buyer—again at triple price. Both were controlled by the same owner, so it was more like "pouring from one container into another." But that didn't make it any easier for us. Because of internal squabbling and one company wanting to eat someone smaller—not even necessarily the one we'd flown to—Tython and a number of other enterprises purchasing electronics were suffering.
So after hearing the issue, Irbis arranged negotiations where representatives of the supposedly opposing sides met. To be honest, I didn't see a peaceful resolution to this conflict at all, and that's why I watched with genuine interest as Irbis organized the whole thing.
And my teacher impressed me. He threatened the larger company that if they didn't rein in their appetites and stabilize the situation, Tython would cut off its orders and tighten its belt for a time. Shikaakwa has similar electronics plants, even if in smaller volumes, so we could pull through. But the company, losing contracts like that, would most likely never crawl out again.
Besides, the light doesn't converge on this one company. There are others, smaller private enterprises. Yes, their volumes are much lower, but what difference does it make, essentially, whether we buy from one firm or from several—especially at a lower price?
Once they understood the pit they'd dug for themselves, the conflict was resolved that same evening. More than that, that farsighted bug even managed to knock out discounts for "penalties" on the already dropped (!) price. Yes, Irbis used the Force in places, but still—his resourcefulness and ability to turn circumstances inside out… I'm impressed.
Which I told him directly.
"Learn, my Padawan. Learn and remember. A gun to the head and a kind word may be an effective path, but it's not the only way to resolve a conflict. Companies, especially large ones, fear what most? Bankruptcy. Or heavy losses. So you can and should use that, imposing your interests. Besides, between a company and a client, the initiative will always be with the client—because it is you who is buying the product from them."
"And if it's a monopolist? You need the goods, there are no alternatives, and the company gets cheeky. What then?"
"Depends on the situation," Irbis said, tapping a claw thoughtfully against his lip. "You can approach their friends, you can come to an arrangement with other clients—under joint pressure even a monopolist will have to bend. And in the worst case, you can act in your manner."
"Oh!"
"What 'oh'? I never said you act badly. Yes, it's effective, but when there's an alternative, why always act one-sidedly? Besides, aside from the stick and pressure, there's also the donut. For example, negotiate a new contract, some services, or at least mutual discounts—because even a monopolist has to buy something from someone, and there are options there. I remember I had exactly such a conflict once. So I went to the equipment suppliers, came to an agreement with them, and things became very, very bad for the monopolist on pentary powder. Since then there has been no monopoly on that powder."
"Yeah… I've got a long way to go," I sighed.
"You'll learn. Nothing comes at once." He patted my shoulder.
"Mm-hmm."
So began my wanderings around the Tython system. After Shikaakwa, we didn't stay anywhere for long, spending most of our time on ships. Taking the opportunity, I pestered technicians, pilots, and even the captain. Yes, I was a newbie, but I was interested, and given my education they tried to explain things in plain language. It wasn't hard to arrange lessons; the crew themselves weren't averse to sharing knowledge with a curious, decent guy.
Training with Irbis also continued. Mutual, too. Since I primarily tried to adapt technique to myself—because I'm a nonstandard Jedaii and use the Force a little differently—I showed that to Irbis as well, along with the perks you can get out of it. In return, Irbis kept driving me through theory and practice. Regularly we staged little "skits" where Irbis played some kind of whoever-knows-what, and I had to supposedly convince him of something. It turned out so-so, but it was fun.
A relief came with a spontaneous meeting with Gris. The Wookiee was hanging around Ska-Gora with a master, keeping order there in a role that was… well, closest to the police. And the moment that fur rug sensed me, he ran up and almost strangled me. While I chatted with him about training and how things were going, the teachers talked about their own things.
Later it turned out Zeng and Feng were there too. The twins had become seekers. A seeker is a type of Jedaii who climbs into the most dangerous zones with the goal of pulling out something especially valuable—both for the good of the Order and for commercial purposes. And since we had plenty of dangerous zones, it was a very, very honorable profession.
The funniest part was that the one who pushed them into it was none other than Ramiry. Never would have expected it from that dandelion… the girl needed special roots for her medical research, roots that don't grow just anywhere. So those two volunteered to get them. From there, interest followed, then they were given a teacher with the proper skills, and that's how they started roaming the system. The roots, by the way, were obtained. Ramiry herself is traveling the planets with a master and gaining experience studying subje— I mean, patients.
But the best time was our next arrival on Nox. By coincidence, Mom and Vess were there too—they'd stayed on the planet for a few days for our sake. And when we arrived, a very warm company met us…
"Viii!" I was almost knocked off my feet when she ran in from the side and hugged me with all her strength. "Sha-a-a-ade! I'm so happy to see you!"
"And I am," I said, unable to resist as I placed a hand on her crown, slid my fingers into her hair, and scratched behind her ear.
"Mrrr…"
Bliss. How much I'd missed this…
"Hi, Shade," Mom walked up to us.
"Mom," I gave a small salute without letting Vess go.
"Master Aala."
"Master Irbis. May the Force be with you."
"And with you."
"Glad to see you in good health. I see you got along well with my son."
"Yes… it was hard, but we managed to coexist," that cunning Noghri bared his teeth, glancing at me.
"Would you like to keep me company? It's not far," Mom nodded off to the side.
"And you won't do anything to me?" Irbis raised a brow jokingly.
"Only if I kick you a little. Just for prevention."
"What a shame, what a shame. And I was hoping to drink a cup of vork with you."
"Vork will do," Mom nodded.
Joking back and forth, they walked off toward a café, leaving me and Vess alone. No, I understood Irbis's concern—he really was wary of my mother, and it was plain in his emotions, and not without reason. In our last call, Vess mentioned how Mom had cut off some Selkath's "attachments" for inappropriate behavior in her company and obscene hints. And he was a former member of the Jedaii Order, now a fugitive. Well—more precisely, no longer a fugitive: he's on Bogan now, but without attachments. Yeah. Don't make Mom angry.
But, cheering up, I shifted my attention to Vess clinging to me.
"So how are you, kitty?" I pulled back, looking into those wonderful green eyes with vertical pupils.
"Great! Master Aala shows so much and explains it so well—wow! Now I understand why Gris had such a high opinion of you on the first day we met. With a personal trainer like that, it's physically impossible to be weak."
"Yeah… that's true. And… what did she teach you?"
"Well, fighting. Fighting properly. In Qigong Kesh we had trouble with that, but now I handle a blade pretty well."
"And what else?"
"Well… she told me… anyway… stuff. Yes! Shade, stop digging, it's girly," I got a light smack to the chest.
"Heh-heh-heh… fine, I won't," I said, leaned in, and kissed that kawaii miracle. And in the time that had passed, she'd managed to grow. Before, she was a full head shorter than me—now only half a head.
After playing around and pulling back to catch our breath, I rubbed my cheek against the top of her head.
"I missed you so much."
"Me too."
"Come on. I know a place. Not a soul there."
"Oh!"
So, hiding from prying eyes on the roof of one of the buildings—getting there isn't a problem for a Jedaii—I finally relaxed and rested properly, squeezing that cute miracle sitting in my lap every second. And she didn't mind. Sitting there, melting, enjoying it. Heaven.
The bliss was interrupted by a message from Irbis: we'd been gone too long somewhere unaccounted for and should get to them. And there, in the café, I was surrendered to my mother's interrogation. How, what, when—so many questions I wondered how Irbis even gave me a couple of hours alone with Vess. I'll definitely thank him later.
Vess herself wasn't averse to hearing details about my adventures. She was especially interested in my "female acquaintances." Yeah—after the rumors about Hadiya, her mind had started sticking a bit, so I was sure: if a competitor appeared, they'd quietly bury her—and with what Mom taught Vess, that wouldn't be a problem. Yeah.
But I endured the test with honor, and when night fell, the reward came to my room in the form of Vess. Very heated Vess—literally blazing—who didn't even let me make a sound, jumping straight onto my neck, wrapping her legs around me, kissing me hungrily.
Click—went the door lock as I fell onto the bed.
"Last time…" Vess broke the kiss, breathing hard. "…you were on guard."
"Hm?"
"Master Aala taught me two medical techniques. One to conceive, the other to prevent accidental conception," she whispered in my ear. "So don't hold back," she purred the last words, scratching my chest.
Yeah… Mom is definitely a very bad influence on Vess. And kriff, how good that is.