Interlude
The Light of the Jedi fell silent after listening to Kaleri's report on his mission—a mission which, it must be admitted, had gone absolutely nothing like the plan. In truth, he had been assigned this task merely as a test: to determine whether he was ready to undertake missions without a Master, or if he still needed to be paired with another Jedi. And this was the result...
What began as a simple mission to investigate the smuggling of banned stimulants into Coruscant had suddenly escalated into a confrontation with the Sith. It was a miracle that he had survived at all—to say nothing of retaining all his limbs or actually completing his objective. Kaleri had uncovered the supply channels almost immediately upon arriving on Tatooine; however, during his investigation, he had stumbled upon news regarding the theft of a shipment of some highly dangerous "weapons" from a Hutt. Fearing it might be used against the Republic—and displaying a zeal that perhaps exceeded his prudence—he had managed to track down the culprit, ultimately finding himself aboard the ship of that infamous "witch" from Dathomir: Ventress.
And now, having heard the account of the young Jedi—who, strictly speaking, was not yet a Jedi at all, having not yet undergone the formal knighting ceremony—the Council had to decide how to proceed in light of the unfolding situation. Finally, the silence was broken by a voice. The speaker was a Kel Dor male named Plo Koon, who calmly asked:
"As I understand it from your words, you traveled with this... Sith... for quite some time. Tell us more about him. And, for that matter—where is he now?" In response, Kaleri lowered his head even further, pondering how best to answer.
He felt a simultaneous sense of duty toward the Council, yet he also had no desire to betray the man who had saved his life. In his earlier account—wavering between these conflicting emotions—he had outlined the situation very briefly, which was precisely why Plo Koon had decided to press for details.
The young Jedi frowned in response, struggling with himself for a few seconds; yet, under the Council Masters' expectant gazes, he quickly relented and told them everything honestly:
"He... is strange. You remember I mentioned meeting Ventress? The aura she radiated felt completely different from this guy's. It's as if he isn't a Sith at all—and yet, he undoubtedly channels his emotions to access the Force. But those emotions... They aren't anger or hatred; they're something else entirely... I can't put it into words; it's something you have to feel through the Force for yourself," he blurted out. However, upon accidentally catching Windu's stern glare, he hastily added:
"Alright, I'll try to describe it. It might sound foolish, but it feels to me like some kind of... hope for a brighter future, or something like that..." He fell silent, blushing at such a peculiar comparison; yet, the Council remained silent, so he was compelled to continue:
"Oh, and one more thing: he flew to Coruscant right alongside me. I don't know why, but he didn't seem to be hiding from anyone." The moment he finished speaking, Windu tensed up completely—nearly leaping from his seat, ready to rush out and confront the enemy—while simultaneously asking, in a tone slightly sharper than befitted a Master of the Order:
"Where, exactly?" This earned him numerous looks of disapproval from the other Council members—some of whom were present only as holograms—though he also received a couple of approving glances.
Windu, however, couldn't care less; he simply waited for Kaleri's answer. Under that intense gaze, the young man visibly tensed up, just about to offer a response, when suddenly Yoda himself spoke, instantly drawing the eyes of everyone present:
"Hmm-mh... Drawing upon the Force through emotion dangerous it is. This sentient at the edge of an abyss he stands; gazed into it he did , and the madness of the Dark Side stares back. How long endure can he? If even young Kaleri has noted this he has, bad sign it is... Mh... dangerous he is —far more so to himself than to us—yet still too early for a verdict it is. nothing wrong he has done; quite the opposite.Speak with him first I shall. attend to this I will," the head of the Council declared, giving his ears a comical twitch; however, Windu—along with several other members—were clearly unconvinced. Yet, only Mace chose to voice his objection:
"Master, allow me to accompany you. Kaleri mentioned that this Sith was thawed from carbonite. Who knows from when he comes from? We are duty-bound to exercise caution!" It seemed the Korun Master had originally intended to go and "speak" with the uninvited "guest" himself, and he had no intention of abandoning his plans. It was difficult to discern Yoda's thoughts from his expression, but his tone carried a distinct note of disapproval:
"a mission you already have. require your skills the Republic does; I am sufficient here. believe I have grown too old you do?" And although, judging by the look on Windu's face, he disagreed with this decision, he chose not to argue; instead, he simply bowed his head in assent before turning his attention back to the motionless Kaleri:
"You can tell us where to find this Sith later." "Now you must undergo a rehabilitation program, after which we will tell you whether or not you have passed the test," he concluded, noting to himself that—regardless of the identity of the gifted individual who had saved Kaleri—the young Jedi himself, at least, had remained on the Light Side, a fact that could not help but bring him satisfaction.
XXXX
I had arranged the meeting in a small public park—a place whose main attraction was a small holographic fountain situated right in the center, surrounded by equally holographic trees that offered absolutely no shelter from the scorching sun blazing down between the skyscrapers. I suppose I should be grateful that, at least, the benches here weren't holograms. A few sentient beings were actually seated on a couple of them, so I took a seat on the bench nearest the "fountain," leaned back comfortably, and lost myself in my thoughts.
Yes, letting my guard down in my current position was a risky —but who's to say that wasn't exactly what our plan called for? I trust Kem; I know that if things go south, he'll pull me out of any jam—even out of hell itself. So, for now, I simply tilted my face up to bask carelessly in the rays of the sun hanging directly overhead. Besides, Jedi aren't exactly cold-blooded killers—or, to be more precise, they prefer not to think of themselves as such. At least, most of them don't. In any case, they'll always try to talk first, and only resort to slicing and dicing afterward. Or so, at least, I was convinced.
I'd arrived a little early—just as a precaution—but before long, I sensed Kaleri's presence. He was alone. Snapping out of my reverie, I finally opened my eyes and nearly jumped out of my skin: sitting on a bench just to my left—legs calmly crossed, deep in meditation—was none other than the Grand Master of the Jedi Order himself! The old bastard had snuck up on me like a ghost! I hadn't felt even the slightest ripple in the Force. Kaleri, on the other hand, practically *broadcasts* his presence across the entire district.
It seems I'd underestimated just how cautious the Jedi were regarding me—if even Yoda himself had decided to come out and stretch his old bones. I'd fully expected Windu to show up; that guy sticks his nose into absolutely everything, and the moment he catches even a glimpse of a Sith on the horizon, he comes charging in, lightsaber drawn and ready for a fight. Of course, Mace would have tried to throw me in the brig without a second thought—and if that failed, he would have staged a full-blown raid. But that was exactly what I was banking on. Yoda, however, completely threw a wrench in my plans. *He* isn't going to fall for my provocations quite so easily.
It would have been a different story if Windu had shown up. I could have simply "swayed" Kaleri by starkly highlighting the contrast between a Council member—behaving like a brainless, uncultured savage by lashing out at the very sentient being who had saved Kaleri's life—and myself: all calm, noble, and merely defending myself against aggression. In theory, anyway. I'm not sure how it would have played out in practice, but that was the plan. Alas—as the saying goes—the Sith was on the path to success... but luck just wasn't on his side. Yeah, I've still got a long way to go before I'm in the same league as Sidious and Co.; the plans I come up with are pretty lackluster.
In a worst-case scenario—assuming Windu survived and took Kaleri under his wing—I would have gained an excellent ally, and a Force-sensitive one at that. And if Mace had died in the process? That would have been absolutely perfect: a potential sleeper agent of my own, embedded right inside the Jedi Order.
But no— Yoda had to show up! I was a hundred percent certain it would be Windu. Damn it... This changes everything.
"Calm down. You need to focus," I told myself, quickly engaging my "professional" mindset. The crucial thing now was realizing that I wouldn't be dealing with a brutish Korun—who is easy enough to provoke—but rather with the wise and placid Yoda. First, however, I needed to observe at least a minimum of social decorum. So, lowering my backside back onto my seat—which I had already begun to lift in an attempt to distance myself from the uninvited intruder violating my personal space—I waited patiently for the Master to turn his attention toward me. Kaleri, too, approached us and stood there shifting indecisively beside the "fountain," burning with the desire to tell me something yet unable to bring himself to do so in the presence of "upper management."
Finally, giving his ears a final twitch, Yoda opened his eyes and glanced toward the fidgeting Jedi; he gave a faint nod, and—correctly interpreting this "signal"—the Jedi began to mutter under his breath:
"Greetings, and thank you for picking me up back in the desert—and for helping me out afterward, too. However... A Jedi's duty is to safeguard peace in the galaxy, and to that end, I was compelled to reveal everything about you—even though you specifically asked me not to. You remember, don't you? I warned you that I couldn't make any guarantees!" he mumbled, barely audible—as if trying to justify himself to his own conscience—with his head bowed and his eyes fixed firmly on the ground.
"The Order's Grand Master, Yoda, wishes to see you. He is sitting right beside you now." Having delivered his message, he turned away to the side, feigning interest in the few passersby while studiously avoiding my gaze. What utter childishness...
"You're absolutely right. You never promised me anything, so it's all good," I tossed out to him—a remark that caused Kaleri to stare at me with eyes wide with astonishment.
Apparently, he had been expecting a scathing tirade—one in which I would denounce the Jedi and their principles as hypocritical, or otherwise belittle them—but that would have been simply impractical. I have always believed that in any conversation—even if the subject matter is unpleasant—one must "work through" it and "resolve" it as quickly as possible, rather than throwing a hysterical fit over it. To be honest, what truly annoyed me—far more than Kaleri's supposed "betrayal"—was the fact that the Grand Master himself had shown up. Damn it—I can't bring myself to blame myself for being naive... But I was so sure—how could this happen?
Apparently, he was expecting a scathing tirade—one in which I would denounce the Jedi and their principles as hypocritical, or otherwise disparage them—but that would have been simply impractical. I've always believed that in a conversation—even if the subject is unpleasant—one must "work" with it and "resolve" it as quickly as possible, rather than throwing a hysterical fit over it. Honestly, what bothered me far more was the fact that the Grand Master himself had shown up, not that Caleri had "betrayed" me. Damn it, I just can't bring myself to blame him for being naive... But I was so certain—how could I have been so wrong?
"Hmm-hm..." Yoda broke the lingering silence with his signature hum, then asked:
"Your friend introduce you he did not..."—and, having heard my name briefly "tossed out" by Caleri, he drew it out thoughtfully:
"Taales... No, I have not heard of such a one. Lost to history, it was," he said, shaking his head, while I frantically tried to devise a new plan of action.
No matter how I looked at it, it seemed I would have to hightail it off this "hospitable" little planet as soon as possible—or else, immediately after this conversation, go pay "homage" to Sidious; and that would be even worse than tangling with the Jedi.
There was the option of pitting the Jedi against Palpatine, yes... But my gut told me that would only backfire on me—regardless of which side emerged victorious in the ensuing conflict.
Alas, no sensible ideas came to mind, so I had no choice but to "surrender" to the circumstances, while subtly signaling to Kem that I was "ready." Now, however, I decided to continue this conversation—though displaying a peaceful demeanor to the particularly insolent individuals who made up ninety percent of the Sith Taales had encountered was a risky business (they would have perceived it merely as an invitation to battle, mistaking it for weakness). Yet, with reasonable beings like Yoda, I was always willing to converse calmly and without any of that "cockiness" in my voice. Their power had nothing to do with it; so, smirking with my mechanically altered voice, I explained:
"If I've understood the terminology correctly, I lived during the era of the 'Old Republic.' Back then, the Empire was ruled by Vitiate—though, forgive me, I don't know what year that corresponds to in your current calendar."
Yoda gave a sad chuckle in response:
"Hmm... Yes, heard of him I have. Dark times, those were—yet a light of hope shone through them, brighter even than the encroaching darkness." (This last remark, presumably, was directed at a character from the Jedi storyline.)
In any case, I hadn't actually played through that storyline myself—I'd merely heard bits and pieces—so I had no idea exactly what had gone on there, though the sheer scale of the "heroic melodrama" was obvious enough. I was certain the Jedi protagonist in that story was portrayed as being even cooler and more "chosen" than Luke Skywalker himself—though that wasn't what I needed to be thinking about right now.
"Why hide it? I certainly didn't want to cross paths with you Jedi. But since we've happened to meet anyway, let's figure out how we're going to proceed from here." I gave a nervous smirk—just a reflex, really, for no apparent reason—while Yoda nodded and asked:
"So,your objective on this planet what is? lost your Empire you have, decided to 'retire' from the game have you? Or plotting something nefarious are you?"Help you set foot upon the path of redemption, perhaps we might—should that be your own desire." the Grand Master began, making his first tentative overtures. Yeah, like he'd actually tell you that. Although, judging by that ironic look on his face, he realizes it himself.
Now was the time to exercise extreme caution. Of course, a battle with Yoda sounded incredibly tempting—my very essence craved it—but the catch was that it would, one hundred percent, be my last. For all my recklessness, I didn't consider myself an idiot, and I certainly had no intention of attacking the Grand Master of the Jedi Order without proper preparation. At most, I'd make a run for it if... No—or rather, *when*—something went wrong.
"You know, I flew in because I decided to take in the sights. You have a rather impressive temple here; it's a pity I never got the chance to see the original, but this one is impressive in its own right." — *Yeah, let him interpret that however he likes. Whether I'd come to Tython to 'repent,' or—conversely—to blow their damn temple to smithereens.*
"Intriguing, your words are—yet unanswered, the second question you have left." Yoda observed, prompting me to offer him a rather lengthy reply:
"To answer that, one must delve into the very essence of what is transpiring. You consider yourselves 'Guardians of Peace'; yet how can a single drop of fresh water alter the properties of an entire ocean? Peace among all beings—within the current political framework—has never been possible without complete and total control over sentient life, or without altering their very 'essence' at a genetic level. It follows, then, that this path is a dead end—though the underlying concept is sound. Furthermore: the Sith believe that war drives the advancement of civilization. But in that case, progress is directed primarily toward refining the means of killing one's own kind, and only as an afterthought toward improving the actual quality of life. Such a civilization, too, is doomed; sooner or later, one side will develop an ultimate weapon and deploy it, becoming mired in a vicious cycle of mutual hatred. After all, if one side is bent on exterminating the other—and if every party to the conflict acts in kind, taking turns to do so—then no one will hesitate to push that 'red button' when the moment comes." Such a system rests upon a balance far too delicate—one that is bound to collapse, even if it manages to hold out for a time, just as the first system is bound to collapse. Yet there is something to their idea, for no one desires stagnation. So, what, ultimately, is to be done? Well, I am no expert, so I shall turn to the classics. How about the good old maxim: "From each according to his ability, to each according to his needs"? This would certainly allow for the creation of a far more balanced society—one free of the imbalances evident in the modern Republic, the very imbalances that precipitated this civil war. It would allow for progress unhindered by the perpetual conflicts that drive people to such extremes; for everyone would labor in the field that truly interests them. And if society were to embrace a greater respect for workers rather than for killers, then society itself would be utterly transformed. If you ask me—and I rattled off everything that came into my head—I believe this is the only true path forward. Well, yes—what else was I supposed to do?
The system of absolute "democracy" has failed here; the system of dictatorship has failed as well. What else remains untried in this galaxy? Exactly—someone had to give it a shot, and that someone is going to be me... Someday.
No, of course I was speaking my mind, but actually reaching that goal is still a long, long way off. First and foremost, I needed personal power; secondly, I needed public support—the acquisition of which is directly contingent upon the first point. Only then could I even think about taking on the likes of Yoda and Sidious.
Yoda clearly missed the end of my speech, though he did seem to "lock up" for a moment, pondering my quote of that classic slogan from the *Critique of the Gotha Programme*. Well, go ahead—think. Truth be told, I have no intention of sharing *all* my thoughts with you, but let something simple at least lodge itself in that tiny head of yours. Let him believe that this path of "correction" is truly the one I intend to follow.
"Falsehood in you, I sense none. The truth, you speak—or at least, believe it to be true, you do. Mysterious, the paths the Force follows are. Yet still, a chance you have; see it, I do. Noble, your intentions may be—but twist them, the Dark Side will. Cast it aside, clear your mind you must, or surely, disaster will follow. Promise us far greater calamity than we face now, do you not? Hmm? Well? Death to thousands of sentient beings, change brings—always, it has. And often, in vain, it is. Prepared to bear that responsibility, are you? Accept their deaths, will you?" He wasn't "pressing" me; even now, Yoda spoke with great calm, as if trying to reason with a wayward child. This irked me slightly, so—without thinking—I blurted out:
"If nothing changes, millions will die! And in the end, your endless cycle of 'Republic and Empire' will simply repeat itself once again—unchanged..." An awkward silence settled between us for a couple of minutes.
Passersby had, for some reason, long since begun giving our conversation a wide berth—clearly not without the Grand Master's "assistance"—so the area around us was now utterly deserted.
"Noble, your intentions are, Taales—but place your faith in visions, you must not. Clouded and uncertain, they are." Yoda had clearly concluded that I had glimpsed the "future"—that I was claiming the Republic would inevitably revert to an Empire—and that this vision had simply caused me to "snap." Well then, perhaps I ought to bring him down to earth a little:
"Oh, yes—the CIS rebelled for absolutely no reason at all, didn't they? Isn't it blindingly obvious that as long as the Senate is comprised of members driven solely by self-interest and personal enrichment—each of whom, at best, cares only for their own planet rather than for the collective good—this viper's nest will continue to drive your 'dear Republic' deeper into an abyss from which there is no escape? Just as it is obvious that a single ruler can vary wildly in their degree of rottenness. One cannot simply hand over power to a single individual; that approach is only beneficial when you have an external enemy against whom you need to defend yourselves. But if one were to pursue a sensible, rational policy, no one would rise up in rebellion as they are doing now—which means this 'centralized' form of governance wouldn't be necessary in the first place. So, what is to be done, then? Eliminate the primary element of that first point. Cut off the perks for those bloated, corrupt bureaucrats, and—presto!—everything magically fixes itself." Though doing so won't be easy," I added bitterly, thinking to myself: *I have a recent, vivid example of exactly that playing out right before my eyes—back in my own world.*
"Hmm… mhmm… Know all of this, I do—everything you tell me. Against these very issues, struggling we have been, for a long, long time. A struggle unseen, often it is. Judge the Republic, you cannot—not enough about it, you know, Taales. Wander unsupervised, one cannot simply be left to do. Required, oversight is. Needed, wise counsel is as well. A Jedi, I will find—one who will take you under their wing. Kalerie, they will take as well. Go with them, will you?" At these words, the "wannabe Jedi" standing near the fountain hung his head, looking like a schoolboy who had just learned he'd failed his final exams. Though, perhaps, I wasn't all that far from the truth.
As if a babysitter were exactly what I needed right now! *That* is precisely why I didn't want to meet with Yoda—he is too cunning; he has lived too long; he knows far too much! Instead of just exiling me to some distant planet—from where Kem could have quietly retrieved me later—no, he simply *had* to keep my actions under his thumb... And something tells me that while I'm working on the first item on my agenda—namely, "becoming stronger"—this overseer is going to throw a wrench in my gears more than once or twice.
"Somehow, I'm not particularly keen on becoming your 'errand boy,' Master. However... how about a truce? I stay out of the Jedi's way, and you stay out of mine. Well, it was worth a shot, wasn't it?"
"Less of a danger to the galaxy than to yourself, you are. That is why my aid, I offer. Capable of gratitude, I am—and trust my instincts, I do: ill will toward us, you do not truly bear, and for profit's sake, young Kaleri you did not save."Yoda shook his head, but I immediately retorted:
"Well... Thanks, I guess? What, you're not even going to throw me in prison? But I'm a terrible—albeit not exactly *mighty*—Sith Lord... Heh." I chuckled to myself, but the Master merely shook his head and asked:
"As I have said already, no evil in you, I sense. Yet cunning and treacherous, the Darkness is. Hope I do that to it, you do not succumb. Fully comprehend you, I cannot, Taales—but tell me my feelings do that enemies, we are not." With that, he gave a meaningful nod and slowly closed his eyes.
Damn it all! He certainly knows how to "motivate" a guy. He even managed to imply that I'm bound to fail. Well, we'll just see about that... Though, he is right about one thing: I have no intention of going around committing senseless genocide. So, I rose to my feet, gave a brief bow, and called out after him:
"Until we meet again, Master." Everyone has their own path—much like in that song: "for you, a star; for me, night and gloom"—though here, the sentiment is perhaps more metaphorical. I hope you will reflect upon what I have said today and, when the moment is right, lend your support to the righteous side. I make no distinction between sentient beings. It matters not whether they are Jedi or Sith; I simply do not care. Suppressing the dissent that arose within me—a discord stemming from that "part" of myself that is Taales—I strode resolutely toward the park exit, passing directly through the holographic fountain and past the frozen Kaleri.
Luckily, Yoda didn't pursue me, nor did he agree to my proposal for neutrality. Well, let's see how the future unfolds. I always have an alternative. If I can't use my knowledge of Jedi relics... I'll just go to the "dark archaeologists," or whatever they're called here. It's not impossible to get one of them to join me, and with a companion like me, he might well agree to fly to a very dangerous place, like some ancient tomb or something similar.
"No battle?" Kem muttered, emerging from around the nearest corner with visible disappointment, so I had to reason with him:
"Hold your horses. You'll still have time to slaughter the gifted ones; the main thing now is to develop an initial plan of action." You know, I'm tired of floundering around like a fly in a toilet...
xxxx
(Author's note: The main character doesn't know about the Yuuzhan Vong, but I (the author) do, so rest assured. If the fanfic "survives" until those events, we'll see them. Also, the main character doesn't know a lot about Star Wars, but I do as much research as possible when writing chapters (especially because I can't write them quickly), so don't assume that if the main character says they don't know something, then neither do I (the author)).