"I see… All right, time to head back…" As soon as Kuro said that, I was instantly bound hand and foot by the Force. What the hell?
"Mentor?" I stared dazedly at the woman, who had one hand pointed at me, focusing the Force, and a lightsaber in the other.
"You think I'd just believe you that easily?" the Shadow asked with a smirk, activating her lightsaber. "I'll ask again: where is the Sith medallion? Did you destroy it?"
Damn… I knew Kuro wouldn't trust me that easily. To mask the medallion's aura, I'd "released" the Force. So I wouldn't be sensed, and so I wouldn't pressure weaker Force-sensitives — the galaxy had many — I was using a concealing Force Technique. And it paid off — my aura perfectly masked the medallion, to put it simply. But my opponent wasn't some dumb brute. The question about the medallion came from An'ya Kuro, a Jedi Shadow. They were far more cynical and used to detecting lies. From an ordinary person's perspective — I'd lied and not even given myself away. After all, I'd practiced. But she'd used some technique, or was it just her intuition? With Kuro, anything was possible. I was almost afraid to guess what she'd do to me… But fine. Pull yourself together. This medallion could help me with many things. Not all the great Jedi and Sith had left holocrons.
Besides, with time, some of my memories of them had started to fade. New impressions, new memories — had pushed the old ones out. And given my self-examination, which I preferred to do almost every day for about two hours… The medallion had to be kept at any cost. And right now it didn't matter who had created it — Darth Arrogant had, one of the servants of Vitiate-Valkorion-Tenebrae himself. But I was about to be interrogated by someone who didn't believe anyone.
"I… already… told you: I destroyed it!" I tried to put as much conviction into my voice as possible.
"Right… And you stopped suppressing the Force, shining in my perception like a supernova, because you were tired from the fight," Kuro snorted. "Don't feed me bantha crap, Light." She aimed her lightsaber straight at my face. "I remember very well whose student you are. Lorm always did things his own way and interpreted everything to suit himself! You're just like your mentor. So now — be a good boy and give me the medallion!"
"Search me all you want!" I replied angrily, suppressing my emotions. "You won't find what I destroyed on me…"
"Oh, you can make me start believing you, my reluctant student," Kuro giggled. "You won't be shy about undressing in front of me, will you. I'll examine your clothes, your bracers… Mmmm… It could fit in the saber hilts. Prove you're not lying!"
"Mentor," I felt myself released. She stopped trying to suppress me with the Force. Only her purple lightsaber glowed in the workshop. "Strip here?" A nod. "Pervert…"
"Did you really think I'd do this just to see your body?" Kuro asked mockingly. "I want to see whether you've lied to me. Senses can be fooled, the mind can be fooled. Even the Force… But I'm used to believing only what I see with my own eyes. I'll examine your clothes, your bracers, your swords. And when I see you're not lying to me, then, and only then — we'll return to the ship…"
"And what if you see I am lying?" I asked Kuro timidly.
Silence hung in the workshop… The woman looked at me with cold, hard eyes that held the Force. The Jedi's sword seemed to freeze in one position.
"I'll cut off all your limbs, take the medallion, and escort you to the Council Court. There, you'll most likely be forced to undergo many trials of atonement. Perhaps — they'll cut you off from the Force, since you'd have hidden an artifact capable of destroying the basic rules and laws of our world. Violating the laws of the Force… And then… You might be released to drag out your miserable existence somewhere in the Unknown Regions… Or you'll be killed. Is that clear?"
"I have nothing to hide," I sighed heavily, starting to unbutton my clothes. "It weighs on my heart that even my mentor doesn't believe me, after everything I've done…"
"Yes, yes, spare me your naive lamentations," Kuro smirked. "Remember: it doesn't matter what you become. A Guardian, a Consular, a Sentinel… Every sentient being is capable of lying. Especially if a sentient is tempted by the Dark Side of the Force," she said meaningfully. "No offense, Light, but far better and stronger Jedi than you have fallen to the Dark Side. And many more will fall. The fact that you once resisted and even managed to destroy Dark Force-sensitives might mean something to the Council, but personally to me — it doesn't. Always, even in the brightest and warmest places, there will be shadows that block part of the light and radiate cold. Shadows capable of manifesting even now, nearly a thousand years after the battles on Ruusan. And now I have to make sure you haven't been seduced by that shadow."
While she spoke, my outer clothes were carefully folded on the floor. I'd have to wash my cloak later. It was pure white. Did she even know how much bleach cost? I used the best available… My clothes were already dusty from the fight with Shilazh. Now I had to get them even dirtier.
"Should I take off my underwear?" I asked, standing completely barefoot on the floor. The floor was quite cold and unpleasant. Though I tried to abstract myself from the feeling. "Want to see all of me?"
"And the undershirt and underwear," Kuro said calmly. "Don't think you'll embarrass me, boy. I've seen things you wouldn't even imagine in your worst nightmares. And your 'dignity' isn't the worst the Force has in store for me."
Shrugging, I took off my undershirt, baring my upper body. I didn't have a whole lot of muscle, though there was definitely something to be proud of. At least — I would have been proud of myself back in my old world. Ending up in this body, in a galaxy far, far away, and as a strong Force-sensitive — I understood perfectly that if I didn't train, I'd die. And most likely, this time for good. Sure, "there is no death, there is the Force." But that literally meant you'd become a Force Ghost, or fall into the Void where all sorts of Dark Force-sensitives dwell. So I trained… Especially after Mila and Lorm died, I realized how worthless and easily cut short life was. An instant, and Mila was dead… Just an instant, and Lorm Decer, a proud Jedi Knight, had received wounds incompatible with life… That easily.
"You're a pervert, you know that, mentor?" I pulled off my underwear.
She examined me critically. Then she went through my clothes, literally trying to shake everything out of them. She shook out my Bank of Tustra chip and my ID from the pocket.
"And… I know you made this design on purpose. Disassemble your bracers and swords."
"Naked?" I asked my mentor.
"Don't test my patience!" she snapped. "If you want this over with faster — follow orders!"
How humiliating. Though rationally I understood why she didn't trust me. Still, the treatment saddened me. Fine… Did I have the right to complain, after everything that had happened? And everything that was yet to happen? Kneeling before my tools, I passed my right hand over them. First the bracers… They floated up before me and my mentor, who fixed a scrutinizing gaze on them… An instant, and they scattered into components. I'd originally created the parts using Force Forging and welding that BB-7 performed under my control and according to my designs. The bracers themselves were fully disassemblable into several modules. The first was the base, onto which everything was attached. Originally, that was where the magnetic holders for the lightsabers were. The cable spool with suction cups was also attached there. The second component was the cable module. Next to it was a basic motor — weak, but enough for me. It controlled the cable's movement, obeying my commands… How exactly? Telekinesis. The trick was that I used the Force to fire the cable, the Force to retract it, or the Force to make the motor pull me toward the point the suction cup had hit. I had to help myself with Force Acrobatics, since the motor was a bit weak — anything more powerful simply wouldn't fit inside. A datapad was also attached to the left bracer. The best I could find for integrating into a bracer. It was enough to contact someone, or access the HoloNet, search for information… Check my account, pay for something. Couldn't play games… And I didn't like mobile games anyway. Better to find a stationary terminal and play there. The graphics and processing were often better than in many mobile devices combined… Though I had downloaded a local time-waster like "2048." But I barely used it…
With a nod, Kuro indicated she was done with the bracers, having meticulously examined every element. Returning my bracers to their normal state — a single, solid construction — I immediately disassembled both my lightsabers.
"And where would it fit here?" I asked the woman, whose gaze was wandering over my crystals. Jealous?
"Don't grumble," Kuro replied quietly. "If you only knew where one Hutt smuggler hid a holocron…"
"Hutts now smuggle contraband personally?" I asked skeptically, holding all the structural elements of my swords with the Force while crossing my arms, my voice dripping with disbelief. "A Hutt? Not their underlings?"
"Those are prejudices, Light. They've ruined many Jedi…" Kuro said thoughtfully. "All right, you can get dressed," she nodded.
I returned my swords to their normal form and lunged for my clothes like a starving rancor.
"Oh," the woman put her palm to her mouth, watching me. "Looks like someone's shy around women," she smirked.
"It would only be fair if you undressed in return, mentor," I replied to Kuro's smile.
"Be careful with those jokes, Padawan," she said suddenly. "Or you might become a woman yourself." She pointed the hilt of her sword at my lower body meaningfully.
Note to self: edge-of-the-line humor — aka "crude jokes" better left untouched with Kuro. Not worth the risk. Dressed again, I lifted the girl, still unconscious after my intrusion into her mind, with the Force and carefully brought her over. Kuro repeated the trick, but with Shilazh's dead body. Just as we were leaving the workshop, I spoke up…
"Master," I addressed Kuro.
"Mmmm?"
"So, where exactly did that Hutt hide the holocron you were looking for on that mission?"
"Up his own ass," Kuro replied succinctly.
"You're being rude," I grimaced. "That's…"
"I thought it was impossible too," Kuro looked at me intently. "But it's true."
"That sounds disgusting," I commented. "AAAAH! You don't want to continue my examination on my ship, do you?! I declare that if so, I'll do anything, but you'll never set foot on the Star Trek again!"
"Calm down," Kuro said. "Your reaction tells me how disgusting that sounds to you. Besides — you're Sephi. You're too arrogant and proud to do something like that. That was a Hutt, almost half a century in smuggling. And here you are, a youngster too lazy to get a haircut in places…"
"I refuse to comment on that last insinuation," I feigned a blush. "But if you ever want to examine me again, warn me — I'll get a haircut."
"I told you what happens with jokes like that, Light," the Dark Woman hissed threateningly. "Want a phalloplasty?"
"No…" I deflated. "I'll keep my standard one."
"Well then, curb your humor that's veered off somewhere and listen to my wisdom. It seems you've learned a couple of important lessons today…"
"Theory doesn't equal practice," I proclaimed importantly.
"Correct… And thank the Force I won't be following you around with a flashlight watching you go through practice. We're returning to Coruscant, and I'm presenting you for the Trials. Fortunately, a couple might count. You might even become a Knight on the first try…
A Knight… I closed my eyes, remembering what "Jedi Knight" had meant to me before. When I was first getting into Star Wars, I thought it was a warrior of light, without fear or reproach, someone who dispelled injustice and did good — a sort of shonen hero. Later, after the prequels and exposure to Expanded Universe works, I came to understand that things weren't so clear-cut... The Expanded Universe material, later declared Legends, could be criticized... But it certainly makes one thing clear — not everything is so rosy. So who is a Jedi Knight? Someone who runs from planet to planet, resolving conflicts? My countrywoman Fay came to mind. A strange character... in my opinion. Though she performed her duties admirably. Or are they characters like Jord and his Padawan, who also wander from planet to planet, cutting down gangs? Or maybe Kuro, who, with her brothers and sisters from the Shadows, plays at low-level Imperial Inquisitorius, cutting down various Dark Sided individuals. Which of them brings the most benefit to Sentients?
If I think about it... None of them. How many will Fay save from unnecessary conflicts? How many will people like Jord protect? Or how many will the Shadows and other Guards, who also hunt criminals, save? Thousands, tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands... Millions? Perhaps. Nevertheless — the problem, based on what I've studied, lies mostly in everything being too hypertrophied. After all, the Jedi who create, say, vegetable crops for different biomes will save the most. They will help the largest number of populations in some places not die of starvation. Hunger can also drive some people to crime. So quality performance of duties by such Jedi could reduce the workload for Protectors, Guards, and perhaps even Diplomats. Right now they're nerds, not exactly held in high regard... And they won't be held in high regard until the Order falls by Order 66, if I don't change that... Although — is it even worth it?
I see a rotting Republic, once a Great Nation, a Colossus on Clay Feet, and an Order mired in theoretical Dogmatism, having become an obedient dog of the Senate. It's not that noticeable yet... But soon Dooku will leave the Order, soon many will understand this. Sometimes it's better to build anew than to rebuild, right, Comrade Gorbachev? There are too many contradictions... And no one is going to eliminate them. Maybe it's better to let them feel firsthand where these contradictions can lead, rather than trying to convince everyone? Isn't that the greater good?
So, ultimately, what kind of Jedi Knight do I want to become? Here I was talking about the workers of the Jedi Bio-laboratories who grow crops and sometimes save entire Systems and Sectors from starvation. But I'm no Botanist, and my talents have long since moved away from that sort of thing. Telekinesis, Combat Precognition, Fencing, Stealth Infiltration... A pretty lousy set for a peaceful Botanist... And I have no desire to retrain.
"What are you thinking about?" my mentor asked.
"About your words," I replied, squinting against the light of the star hanging in the planet's orbit that had started shining in my eyes. The sunset on this planet is beautiful and bright... Ah, if only I could get rid of Kuro's company sooner. Maintaining the medallion with telekinesis is getting harder. And I still have to act normal. "More precisely, about what kind of Knight I should become? You're a mentor, an experienced Jedi — what do you advise?"
"And you'll follow my advice?" Kuro asked, grinning slyly again. "I remember how Lorm complained to me that you weren't exactly eager to take advice from senior mentors back then, when they told you about Ataru. You were stubborn... And where did it get you? Now you acknowledge the experience of some members of the Jedi Order?"
"If I didn't acknowledge it, I wouldn't have asked," I grumbled. "I've already realized where my talent lies. And what happens when you start doing what you want without developing your talents." In the end, Soresu has its advantages. But it didn't suit me. Ataru, with all my initial parameters, was the ideal first combat form for me. And I've regretted a thousand times not studying it first. If I had better skill in Ataru, if I were faster because of that form... If I'd used it from the very beginning, maybe no one would have died. How painful... Milah and I formed a Force Bond. Lorm and I formed a Force Bond... And their deaths, because of my stupidity, hit me hard. But at least I learned something.
"Well then," Kuro slowed her pace. "You want my opinion, and that's commendable. Lorm saw you among the Guards, more precisely among the Jedi Archaeologists. Your intellect is quite high," she praised me. "But please don't confuse intellect with life wisdom, that is, experience. In the latter, you're too immature. However, for archaeologists, intellect itself matters — knowledge of history, good reflexes, resourcefulness. You have all that. You'd also suit being a Guardian, albeit with some stretch. The Guardian's style of action is sword against an army, in the open. That's why their mortality rate is quite high. As for a Diplomat, sorry, you're completely unsuited. I've seen your grades. You know the history of both the Galaxy and the Order perfectly well. You'd make a decent Archivist. But a Diplomat must not only remember the historical background of conflicts and be able to analyze them, but also seek common ground between enemies to reconcile them. And you, in diplomacy, acted like you just wanted to pass the exam, not show top-tier skill." Right. Hypocritical — I wish to build a state through a peaceful treaty between everyone, not by herding everyone at blaster-point, yet I treat diplomacy so-so... Although — that'll smooth out later. I'll have plenty of practice. Probably... "You know, I'd recommend you become a Guard. But not an Archaeologist — a Shadow. Why? Your body will be ideal. You're already actively using a style aimed at quick and efficient elimination of a target. Though I do have some questions about your psychological aspects..."
"About what? About the killing?"
"Only noble idiots would have questions about that," Kuro shook her head. "No. I wonder what you feel during battle. I sensed it while you fought Shilazh. Pleasure, anticipation. You enjoy battles. An adrenaline and endorphin rush — if your blood were analyzed, it would definitely be there. In the process of eliminating a target, you might get carried away, shifting your priority from elimination to the battle itself. That could cost you dearly if you get too caught up. Nevertheless, excluding the psychological issues, you're suited for Shadow work. Jonal would like to have you with us. Although — you'll decide all this yourself. In my opinion... You passed the Trials of Skill, Spirit, and Courage excellently, having survived your adventures with Shilazh. Only the Trials of Body and Insight remain."
"Body and Insight?" I asked. As far as I correctly remember the supplementary materials, specifically "The Jedi Path: A Manual for Students of the Force," I think so... Skill — the ability to handle a lightsaber and the Force. Those are my best skills. In my cohort, no one is better than me at sensor use or telekinesis. And in fencing — I'm in the top five... Maybe even the best. Something to be proud of. Courage could be accredited by the fact that I've repeatedly demonstrated my abilities, facing opponents in difficult situations: Teyron Jarps, the krayt dragon with those two Dark Sided individuals, and finally, Shilazh. A decent enough collection of victories to pass the Trial. The Trial of Spirit consists of overcoming one's passions. And although I disagree with Jedi completely rejecting the dark part of their character and becoming such light fanatics, I managed, in the Order's eyes, to pass this trial by falling and then fully returning from the Dark Side of the Force. Only the Trial of Body remains, which consists of withstanding physical impact, essentially — pain. But what's Crucitorn to me? I'm not a master of that technique, but I handle it quite well. And the Trial of Insight... That's about solving logic problems. Depending on the descriptions... Actually, the mind can be tested in different ways. They could be logic puzzles of various kinds. Or they might just send you into a room with Force illusions and demand, say, that you sit in a chair... only, using illusions — make parts of basins of cold water look like chairs. Not creative, but it weeds out those who aren't particularly attentive in studying and analyzing their surroundings.
"DAUGHTER! WHAT'S WITH HER?!" At the barriers, a family dressed in rich clothing met us. The mother of the family had the same red hair as the girl with the red, swollen face. The father stood and glared angrily at the soldiers who had cordoned off the energy district. Apparently, they hadn't let him through the cordon. But they both couldn't help but notice the girl floating beside us.
"She's fine," I replied, distracted from my thoughts by the girl's parents.
"Think about my words, Light," Kuro said, as if not noticing that I had lifted the girl's body higher and carefully placed her on a transport platform, which droids immediately hooked up and led toward medical speeders. "Better yet, meditate. Your specialization will leave a much bigger imprint on more aspects of your life than you think."
"You handled it," Inspector Tsurko's voice reached us; he walked up to us with a measured step. "Those two Jedi have already left the planet. But they reported that she was dead. So what's with her?" Tsurko asked.
"I'm taking her body," Kuro pointed at the floating body of the dead Shilazh not far away. While I was dragging the red-haired girl, she had hooked my dead enemy with the Force. "A Gifted's body can hold some secrets if you know how to look for them. That's especially true for Dathomirian Witches."
I wasn't worried about her finding out about Plagueis and Sidious ahead of time, which would lead to a Global Breakdown of everything. I had thoroughly searched her body, destroying the portable transmitter as well. Besides, she contacted Plagueis via a stationary one, into which — oh, wonder — a fireball had flown. Interesting... Who did that?
"With all due respect, Mentor, I'd like to rest a bit and take a walk... Maybe find a quiet place to meditate..."
"I thought your favorite ship, the one you'd even agree to marry, would suit you," Kuro smirked.
I just gave her a reproachful look, ignoring the joke.
"Fine. You can go for a walk. I'll report to the Council myself how you handled it," she waved her hand. "Though, I think Jord has already done that."
"Padawan," Tsurko's voice stopped me. "I want to note, Jedi on our planet are forbidden from visiting gambling houses. I'm confident in your Master, but in you... I'd like to be confident too."
"Don't worry, Inspector," I reassured him, turning to face him. "First, I want to go to the laundry. My ship ran out of bleach, and someone got my white cloak dirty," I looked at Kuro. She's mocking me! And she's even whistling, looking at the sky, as if she's innocent! "And then... we'll see."
"For quiet meditation, I recommend our baths. They have private pavilions where you can rest and meditate," Tsurko advised, finally turning toward Kuro.
* * *
Already having moved a fair distance from the energy district, I called up a holomap and found a quiet alley on it. The silence was dead. None of the possible inhabitants of such streets came out to look at me. Still — there were a lot of police and military scurrying around because of Shilazh... Touching my stomach, I channeled the Force... A chain appeared from my mouth... A few more moments, and I literally spat out the medallion. Picking it up and cleaning it of my saliva, I looked closely... The medallion's aura had partially dimmed, but was still noticeable if I concentrated.
"Interesting idea I had — thank you, Uchiha Madara, for Madara's method in 'Naruto.' He bit off a piece of Senju Hashirama's skin and swallowed it. Then, by inducing vomiting, he spat out the skin pieces and transplanted them into himself, awakening the Rinnegan afterward. Though... Like all plans thought up literally on the fly, it depended too much on luck. But my calculation paid off. Even though I feel like I might get indigestion from this. Next time — I need to plan this kind of thing in advance, I almost swallowed it," I surveyed the artifact with my eyes. "So... How do I hide you? Can't take you to the Temple, can I? Jonal is there, the other Shadows, the Council Masters. I definitely can't suppress your aura in front of them. So not on the ship... Only one option remains." I typed "Bank Vault" on the holomap. If you pay the Bank well, they'll hide even Tenebrae's own lightsaber in a vault cell without any extra questions. And then just come back for my property — no trouble. So, before the laundry... the Bank. And everything else after. "I hope all the sacrifices I've made will be worth it. Tulak Hord, Arca Jeth, maybe Malgus, Bastila Shan, Satele Shan, and even Revan... So many great Jedi and Sith, whose knowledge I could use not only for my own survival but also for an attempt to reshape the Galaxy to my understanding. I can't say for sure if my worldview is politically... economically correct. But... If you don't dream of building a utopia, you won't even build a hell. So — forward, Light Flyingstar... You'll either rise, realizing your ambitions. Or you'll fall, like many."