9 - Is it easy being Green?
From Corellia. Wear green. Independent. Don't bother with the no marriage thing. Nope. That's it.
Research revealed a little more. The Jedi don't really acknowledge all the little splinter groups, affiliates, sects and other splitters. Possibly it's to keep curious underlings from questioning their version of the status quo or it could be that these groups don't attract that much attention. Jedi often act as travelling firemen. Most groups, after the initial fuss of leaving just don't cause 'fires'. Records then get updated, archived, left out and then your super special Order of the Crimson Star is just a footnote to the Chorvalli Horde. It does not help that I am easily distracted by all the interesting things that have happened.
So, them Greens? During a recent reformation of the Jedi Order, recent meaning 'about two thousand years ago' the Order had gone through one of those periodic spasms any organisation does and formed a dozen or so splinter sects. The biggest remaining, the Coruscanti, called itself the Jedi Order and reabsorbed the splitters except for the second biggest, the Greens. Who said they didn't want to be part of the new orthodoxy. There was a lot of wrangling and disputing how you interpret the words of this or that master which went on for a century or two until everyone simply viewed it as the new normal. The Greens have since haemorrhaged followers to the Order until only the Corellian Branch, the true believers, remain.
All this runs through my mind as I 'experience' a sonic shower. Sonics gets the dirt and grime off and whisked away. It always feels, odd. Give me jets of hot water any day. There's that tingly feeling that is really weird on the toes and I just don't feel clean afterwards. It does have the added bonus that you can clean your clothes at the same time which is handy when you're in a hurry. Like now. After a quick check confirms I am actually clean I dress and head for the ships bridge. Within, I find my rescuer. She's working on some navigation thing.
"Sit down Coruscant." Hera says, not taking her eyes off the dials and readings. I sit and wait, noting that we are in space. Eventually she is finished and swivels round to regard me. "So. What do you have to say for yourself?" she begins.
"Thank you for your timely intervention." I say.
"Wait, what did you say?" she says as the upcoming tirade is revised.
"Thank you. I also apologise for acting in an area under you protection. Astro navigation is largely a mystery to me." I say bobbing my head to look a little less threatening. You don't need mystic powers to tell she's spoiling for a fight with a hereditary heretic. I'm the bad stodgy Coruscant Jedi. Everything wrong with the system. The Man. She's the noble bearer of revealed truth. She is right. When the hell did I become representative of the Establishment? Do not grin. Try for once to be a stoic space knight. A meek one at that.
"Typical. Not mystical enough? What are you doing here anyway?" Hera asks.
"We were coming to Corellia to enrol Anakin in some engineering courses. Being a mechanical genius I decided some exposure to the finest engineering in the Galaxy would be invaluable." I say.
"And you're encouraging that? How noble. I suppose it gives you an opportunity to visit and lecture us as well?" says Hera.
"I would appreciate the chance to learn from the Green Jedi, yes. Specifically in how you deal with maintaining balance in the Force along with the ups and downs of being married." I say.
Yeah. Ulterior motives. The Republic has dozens of planets with reputations as excellent shipbuilders but a lot less also have special Jedi splinter sects.
"Oh? What's wrong with your vaunted love 'em and forget 'em policy Coruscant?" says Hera.
That's a major oversimplification. Reality is of course, complex. The Jedi Order is older than human civilisation, comprised of all sorts of weird aliens and has to deal with a bunch of fit, athletic people all rubbing shoulders and inevitably, other bits as well. Solutions to this have ran the complete range, currently mainly sitting at 'We'll kinda, sorta look the other way, but attachments and Force use ends in tears and darksiders, so give it up .' Which is liberal but open to interpretation as to where and when you clamp down. All those co-equal masters and all. Obi-Wan was a bit of a hard-liner, but given his history and the fact that Anakin is Space Jesus, well, I forgive him. It wasn't like the poor bugger could succeed in those movies because 'ol Darth was already a thing.
"Not going to be enough in this case. So I need another perspective." I say.
Hera seemed unimpressed.
"You were just going to stroll in and demand our secrets, were you? Have us hand over our ways because you say so?" she says.
The trouble with being the sole bearers of the truth is that people become unwilling to lose that exalted status. They'd much rather be special than acknowledged.
"Why yes. I wish to ask for help." I say.
"Stop being so reasonable!" snaps Hera.
"Very well. I demand you turn in your lightsabre and return at once with me to Coruscant for, penance." I say, folding my arms with a smile.
There is a pause as Hera processes my 'demand'. Finally she smiles.
"Now that is more like it." she says with a grin. "May I enquire as to the nature of the penance?"
"Being spanked with a wooden spoon while being forced to listen to the wisdom of Belgrum Vas." I say. Not sure about the spanking. I mean, she's human and there ought to be some constants but you never can tell. I'm pretty sure about the Master though. It takes a special skill to transform experiencing the Force from a mystical trip into leaden dullness.
"Vas? That's cruel." Hera says.
"A punishment only for the direst of transgressors." I say.
"That serious?"
"The Sith are merely decapitated."
"A mercy by comparison."
"It is our nature to be merciful to our enemies."
"And what are we Coruscant?" Hera says, the epitaph lacking any bite for once.
People who Palpatine will execute for the crime of existing. For just wanting to be left alone. What happens to you? Dragged off and executed? Killed by Vader? Tortured by Palps to fuel grotesque sorceries?
He's a megalomaniacal totalitarian Space Nazi and one hell of a mood killer.
"People I would see live. Independent or reconciled I don't care. Alive and free is enough." I say.
Hera looks at me, she is not smiling.
"Who the Hell are you?"
"Master Dee-Jay. I have had a vision of a coming darkness. The entire Galaxy conquered and in chains. Mad Sith overlords and doomsday weapons. You know. The usual." I say.
In return I get a look equivalent to a number three stare. Anywhere else such pompous pronouncements of doom would be met with outright disbelief. Not here though. Not when you're Jedi. Still, the methods of my madness are questionable.
"So how does enrolling your apprentice into an engineering course fight that?" Hera says, cutting to the heart of the matter.
"I figured the Chosen One could major in something other than stabbing." I said.
"The what!"
Totally understandable reaction. There are days when I don't believe all this either.
-----
While Hera processes all the crazy that is, well, my life I go find Anakin. He is in the dining room entertaining the people we rescued. Currently he is levitating several plates and utensils. He turns round while the objects dance about in the air.
"Hi Dee-Jay. I'm doing this to convince these people that we're really Jedi." he says.
"That we are. Where are you folks from?" I begin.
Five replies. Kelas, Jaikura, Nolan's Folly and two from Kasperaan. Seems legit. Except. I look at the woman who has remained quiet. Very pale skin and features. I would call her an albino, but her entire species might look like that.
'Where, oh where is that girl from?' whispers the Dark Side.
Thanks for the heads up. There are times I relax and think 'Cool, this is Star Wars.' Then there are times like this. When I get the reminder that large parts of the Galaxy can make Oceania seem like Maplins.
She looks at me defiantly.
"You can't send me back." she says.
I find myself a chair and sit down. Just to be less threatening. Anakin and Obi-Wan literally look like movie stars. They're easy to trust. I'm just the crazy knuckle dragging lunatic with a lightsabre who dragged you through a swamp.
"We won't send you back if you do not want to go. The owner of this ship is a Jedi from Corellia. If that's not okay I can comm a few people. They will help find you a new home." I say.
'Ask her where she's from.' comes the voice.
The Dark SIde would be so much easier to resist if she didn't act like Sharon as well as sound like her.
"Just so we don't send you anywhere by mistake, what world are you from?" I ask.
The woman mumbles something inaudible.
"Sorry, I didn't get that. Please. Just tell me so I can make sure you are not sent there."
"Antoroine." she says.
Well, damn.
"Thank you." I say before getting up to leave.
Damn. Damn. Damn.
-----
I walk to the bathroom, head, fresher. Whatever.
'Upset love? Angry?'
"Upset? How is that woman from Antoroine?"
'Everyone comes from somewhere, isn't that what you always said?'
"How is this possible? That place cannot exist!"
'Why not? Five years ago this was all just stories to you. What's one little, tiny, insignificant world?'
"You damn well know! Antoroine is a theocratic hellhole!"
'I know love. Question is, what are you going to do about it?'
Then as always, she is gone. Antoroine. Theocratic hellhole. Especially if you commit the crime of being female. Being overly clever and attractive is especially egregious. The solution? Transport the inconvenient away. In every sense of the word. Not give them passage to a world less offended by their existence. No, let's sell them as slaves and line our coffers.
How do I know this? Because I wrote that story. Just a writing exercise. Something to do while bored in hospital. Doesn't matter that less than a hundred people even looked at it. Doesn't matter it's alternate universe, as apocryphal as all out.
I wrote that and now it's real, for given amounts of real.
Sharon is right. What am I going to do about it?
-----
I find a small cabin and try to think. This latest revelation has kicked the 'I am just hallucinating as I lie somewhere in a coma' theory back up several notches. It still all seems so real. Asides from the craziness that is this place, it does not have a dream-like quality to it. I think. Would I even notice if it were? No. My experiences are real, or at least to be treated as such. Anything else is a quick trip to madness. So that still leaves me with the other existential question. Something I created, as a subset to another work, however unofficial now exists, as a subset to the larger creation no less. How is that even possible? Of course that just begs the bigger question. How is any of this possible?
It probably goes without saying that whatever agency responsible for all this is not beholden to copyright laws on Earth. Wish that they did, the current holders do not have that kind of power. A story is a story is a story. Wait, some of these tales are pretty out there. The place still looks like the movies for the most part. Obi-Wan looks like Mcgregor, Padme is a dead ringer for Portman. Mace is Jackson. And so on. Far as I can tell Episode I happened. Anakin is a young lad, Maul went reactor diving in two bits and Obi-Wan isn't banging anyone from Naboo, probably. Does this universe comprise of some overarching consensus? Millions have seen the movies so that's the main reality. However there are differences, divergences, apocryphal sources filling in the other bits. Which explains Antoroine. It's otherwise another, no name system in the millions planet Republic. There's no reason for it to be here, but no reason for it not to be either. Deal.
Next question. Am I responsible? Really? I may of described a world into existence but the decisions of those that settled it and made it that way are still their own. Here, they were people. Going down the path of saying it's all my fault leads to Palps not being guilty or evil, because he was just 'drawn that way' to quote J. Rabbit. He's still, evilly, eviling away because he's evil. Still, I know about Antoroine now. What do I do about it?
'Just give in to me. I can help.'
Before Sharon can add anything else there is a knock on the door.
"Coruscant? Are you okay in there." calls Hera.
I rise and walk over to open the door. I'm suddenly face to face with my rescuer.
"Are you alright? I felt a presence." says Hera.
I nod. "Yes, just the Dark Side whispering and cajoling." I say.
Hera looks at me, a little surprised but no actual shock at my revelation.
"Really? When did Coruscant start letting you lot form attachments?" she says.
"I'm a bit of a unique case. Come in, I'll try to explain." I say.
-----
"...and given I am a most unorthodox Master it was decided that perhaps an unorthodox training regime would best avoid disaster. Which is why we were enroute to Corellia." I say in conclusion. Okay so I have not been totally honest here. We left out that silly from another universe and did not so much have a vision as paid admission and bought popcorn and coke to watch them bit.
"What's so important about your apprentice. Why does it all hang on him?" asks Hera.
Well duh. Darth Vader. Not that I can, wait. Hera is right. Exactly why is Anakin important? Like, I know he is and all. Sharon wouldn't be on my case if he wasn't. Still, why? What part of Palpy's grand plan needs Vader? Instead of say Random Sith Apprentice Three? Bet those fans of the books and other supplements know, I'm at a loss. Is it just to suborn someone who could casually off him at the height of his powers and keep other Force users away? No, remember. Space Hitler loves his over complicated plans with 'too many imponderables' had you asked Jeeves. It's not like I can ask the only person here who does know. Well, I could, but it would be a very short conversation.
"I'm not sure. Not really. I just feel that if Anakin gets a chance at other things rather than be railroaded into becoming a Jedi then my vision won't come to pass." I hazard.
"But what would happen if he does choose another life, what then? History is littered with the damage done by maniacs with the Force." says Hera.
Yes. Let's haul out the real reason the Jedi Order exists. The Greens as well. We protect the Republic, obstinately from the visible threats, but that's just a smokescreen. The real threat is often powerful Force users, the majority of which are Jedi. The Jedi keep Force users calm, under control and under wraps.
"Anakin was a slave. He's going to recognise a cage or a cell, even if only subconsciously. That's why I'm offering other options. Good ones too. He can choose the Jedi, and that would be great. Key word is choose." I say.
"And if he doesn't?"
"He doesn't. If he chooses another life then he grows up not restrained and bearing a deep resentment for his captors. Something else happens."
"What if that leads to something terrible?"
"What if it does. Terrible things are always happening or going to happen. We do what we can." I say. All good Stoic Space Knight stuff.
"Well, that's, reassuring. Now, the other thing. The Dark Side, speaks to you?" says Hera.
I notice that she is leaning forward, so am I.
"Yes. I am not sure it's my own projection or not though." I say.
"Tell me Coruscant. Is the voice that of a close friend, a confidant, or a lover?"" she asks.
I nod. "Yes, how do you know?"
Hera reaches across to lightly touch my hand.
"Because it is that way for us. We resist it best by talking about the ones we have lost, reminding ourselves how they cannot be who the Dark Side claims to be. So, let me tell you of my father, Knight Champion Deran Koll. Let me tell you why he cannot be the voice I hear in the darkness."