- Location
- England
[X] No…that's not true. That's impossible!
The Slave Who Makes Free: An Anakin Skywalker Quest
- Thread starter Kirook
- Start date
- Sci-Fi
Barondoctor
The things I chase come to me.
- Location
- The other side of the mirror
- Pronouns
- He/His/Him
Does make it more difficult to get past all that to hear what he has to say though.
[X] Search your feelings. You know it to be true.
I really want us to take a deep breath here because we are not the only ones getting pulled to the dark side. Anakin was feeling the dark side but not from him. Fear is the path to the dark side. And Farus is very afraid and hateful.
I really want us to take a deep breath here because we are not the only ones getting pulled to the dark side. Anakin was feeling the dark side but not from him. Fear is the path to the dark side. And Farus is very afraid and hateful.
I mean, the joke is that Anakin can be one as well. Anakin is just more sympathetic, because while they are both ultimately products of their environment, Anakin comes from slavery on desolate planet, while Ferus grew up in relative comfort of the Temple.
Also they are both kids at this point, so it´s not that surprising they can be assholes sometimes, especially if somebody threatens their worldview.
Edit:
Especially since he´s only half right and clearly biased.
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[X] No…that's not true. That's impossible!
Barondoctor
The things I chase come to me.
- Location
- The other side of the mirror
- Pronouns
- He/His/Him
The one other case I'm gonna make for "that's not true that's impossible" is this: we saw Obi-Wan. We saw Grievous. We saw someone with a lot of power and rightness of cause and a little bit of wrongness of method (as we could explain to Ferus, whether we believe that or not) get met by the most solid reliable Jedi in the Order.
Underlying tone of "you'll be there to stop me".
We might be blowing smoke but a little bit the right way...
Underlying tone of "you'll be there to stop me".
We might be blowing smoke but a little bit the right way...
Vote closed
DoSomething
Trash in trash can
Man, that one "Ferrus, I am your father" vote is so funny
In current context, doesn't it look like "your mom" joke?
In current context, doesn't it look like "your mom" joke?
Iridium Flare
Cyborg Commando
- Location
- AC-130 Gunship circling overhead
[X] Search your feelings. You know it to be true.
I wonder what happens if that won out..
3.3: Relief
- Location
- SF Bay Area
[X] Search your feelings. You know it to be true.
You breathe deeply, meditating on your anger, viewing it from a cool remove within the Force. Remembering the Jedi Code—there is no passion, there is serenity—letting it pass away, stabilizing your troubled thoughts…
…is what you'd like to say you're doing.
But as this game has proven, the truth is always messier than it seems. And the truth is this: what stops you from lashing out has nothing to do with the Code. It's not even the pettier motivation of not wanting to prove Ferus right.
It's the looks on the faces of your friends.
The roil of the Force around you and Ferus drowns out their emotions until only whispers remain. But in their eyes you can see apprehension, nervousness…no, more than that. Fear. In spite of the trust you thought you'd earned with them, and in spite of the spirit of friendship that swept you all up when you came here, they were certain that you were about to try to seriously hurt Ferus over nothing more than harsh words.
And though it shames you to realize that, what shames you far more is that they were very nearly right.
As they often do in times of stress and pain, soft words spoken in Amatakka drift to the forefront of your mind. But these are not from an ancient tale; they are yours, and your Amu's:
Ani, no one is powerful enough to change the galaxy alone.
I could be.
But should you?
You breathe out, and shut your lightsaber off. And the whole room seems to exhale with you.
No one says it out loud, but it's apparent that the time for games is over. The Initiates disperse, wandering off alone or in pairs, murmuring to each other in low voices. Ferus doesn't even look at you as he walks away—maybe he can't bring himself to, after twisting the knife like he just did. It's an ugly end for a day that started so beautifully; your only consolation is that it would have been far worse if you'd failed to control yourself.
Only Iskat lingers, regarding you out of the corner of her eye and holding her lightsaber as if it's as heavy as one of the Chancellor's sculptures. She waits until the others are out of earshot to say, "I've never seen anything like that."
"You don't have to rub it in," you mutter, though there's no real heat in your words anymore.
"No, I mean…" Iskat struggles for the words for a moment. "Getting pushed to the edge like that, but then…pulling yourself back before you go over. I didn't think that was possible."
You look over at her sharply, but she ducks through a gap between the garden's high rocks and is gone.
As her shrouded Force presence fades from your senses, you turn to leave. There's nothing more for you here for now.
You pass through the towering arched doorway of the Room of a Thousand Fountains to see Obi-Wan waiting right outside. Of course—he must have sensed your distress. Part of you appreciates how quickly he rushed to your aid, but another, more insistent part worries about how he'd react if he knew what really happened with Ferus. So when he asks if you're all right, you say only, "There was a disagreement during one of the sparring matches. We cleared it up. No one was seriously hurt."
Not physically, at least.
The look Obi-Wan gives you makes it clear that he knows you're not telling him everything, but thankfully, he doesn't choose to rub salt in the wound. "That may be so, but you should still take a moment to center yourself. You'll need to be as focused as you can soon—because we have a pressing appointment with the Chancellor."
Obi-Wan seems ill at ease amongst the scarlet walls and ancient artwork adorning the Chancellor's office. Perhaps he's still worrying about what happened in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, or maybe he's just not comfortable in the halls of political power. That's a sentiment you have no trouble understanding; but then, Sheev Palpatine is no ordinary politician.
"Padawan Skywalker, Knight Kenobi, good afternoon," he greets you as you sit down across the desk from him. "First and foremost, I'd like to commend you both on your handling of the situation on Huk. It's hard to imagine what sort of place the galaxy would be without Jedi like yourselves keeping the peace."
"We're all called upon to do our part, Your Excellency," Obi-Wan replies, "as Jedi or otherwise."
"Just so," says Chancellor Palpatine, glancing—so briefly you almost miss it—at the statue of Sistros of Dwartii. "Which brings me to the reason I called you two here. Your deft diplomacy negotiated a peace between Kalee and Huk; now, that peace must be secured. As you may know, the Senate can be…unruly…at the best of times. However, I believe that I can bring some of the Senators in line behind our mutual goals. Simply put: should you deem it necessary, I can, and will, marshal the votes for a relief bill for Kalee."
"Just like that?"
You didn't mean to say it out loud, but you're so surprised that the words just slip out. This is a far cry from the hemming and hawing you've come to expect from well-meaning Core Worlders. You already knew that Palpatine was different from them, of course; but now those differences are put on starker display than ever.
Palpatine smiles again, but it's not the same friendly expression with which he first greeted you. His mouth is pulled a little tighter; his eyes are harder and narrower. "Anakin, I chose to run for this office because my predecessor Valorum was content to watch the bureaucrats bicker as my homeworld burned. I assure you, there will be no such squabbling in this Chancellery if I have any say in the matter—and I most definitely do."
But before you can accept his offer, Obi-Wan speaks up. "We appreciate the help, Chancellor, and we'll certainly keep it in mind. But the Jedi Order's mandate is to take the burden of galactic peacekeeping off the shoulders of the Senate, not the other way around. We'd like to explore all of our options before putting you through such difficulties."
Palpatine carries himself with too much gravitas to shrug, but he somehow gives the impression of one without actually moving his shoulders. "Very well. I can certainly respect the desire to take matters into one's own hands. I simply ask that you remember that your Order works hand in hand with the Republic for a reason. Even the Jedi are not all-powerful."
And perhaps—if the lessons you've learned today are anything to go by—they shouldn't be.
You're still reflecting on that throughout your (unusually quiet) ride back to the Jedi Temple, and it's only once you're once again ensconced in your quarters that you ask Obi-Wan, "Why didn't you just accept his help? It feels like we just made things harder on ourselves for no reason. Especially when we only have a year to fix Kalee."
"I meant what I said," he explains. "We should explore our options first. Perhaps it's true that he can get results from the Senate in a way that Valorum never could. But even if he can, is it really the wisest course of action to put the relief plan fully in the hands of the Senate, a body that Grievous has every reason to despise?"
"Maybe not." You have to admit that it would be a hard sell for you too if you didn't know the Chancellor personally. "But we can't just sit around doing nothing, can we? Isn't it important to be decisive?"
"Of course. But only when you fully understand the choice you're about to make. Decisiveness without insight is just recklessness."
Ouch. Wise as those words are, they're also a little more pointed than Obi-Wan might have intended them to be.
He seems to realize this, because his next words are touched with conciliation that gently drifts from him in the Force. "Think of it as a lesson in one of your politics or diplomacy classes, one where there can be more than one right answer. More than anything, the key here is to learn to see possibilities."
For reasons you can't fully explain, something about that sentiment strikes a chord in you.
But it also reminds you of something, something you've been meaning to talk to Obi-Wan about since you stumbled back onto the Crucible with a brand-new lightsaber crystal in tow. "Speaking of choices and possibilities, I can think of one important decision I want to make soon…"
Obi-Wan chuckles. "Normally I'd say it would be an unnecessary distraction, but you might actually benefit from having something to keep your mind and body active while we work on our plan for Kalee. So, yes, Anakin. It's time for you to choose a lightsaber form."
Though you've been slower to train with your blade than some of your peers and therefore slower to find a style of lightsaber combat that suits you, all that means is that this day has been a long time coming. There's no set-in-stone path to blade mastery, but given your thoughts on the weapon you carry, you've found yourself favoring:
[ ] Form I - Shii-Cho
The binding unity of your mother tongue.
[ ] Form II - Makashi
The elegant precision of scalpel and song.
[ ] Form III - Soresu
The steadfast protection of elders and legends.
[ ] Form IV - Ataru
The whirling chaos of a sandstorm's winds.
[ ] Form V - Djem So
The fierce radiance of twin suns and dragon eyes.
[ ] Form VI - Niman
The untapped potential of a desert night.
[ ] Form VII - Juyo
The righteous fury of open revolt.
Information on lightsaber forms can be found here: The Slave Who Makes Free: An Anakin Skywalker Quest Sci-Fi
You breathe deeply, meditating on your anger, viewing it from a cool remove within the Force. Remembering the Jedi Code—there is no passion, there is serenity—letting it pass away, stabilizing your troubled thoughts…
…is what you'd like to say you're doing.
But as this game has proven, the truth is always messier than it seems. And the truth is this: what stops you from lashing out has nothing to do with the Code. It's not even the pettier motivation of not wanting to prove Ferus right.
It's the looks on the faces of your friends.
The roil of the Force around you and Ferus drowns out their emotions until only whispers remain. But in their eyes you can see apprehension, nervousness…no, more than that. Fear. In spite of the trust you thought you'd earned with them, and in spite of the spirit of friendship that swept you all up when you came here, they were certain that you were about to try to seriously hurt Ferus over nothing more than harsh words.
And though it shames you to realize that, what shames you far more is that they were very nearly right.
As they often do in times of stress and pain, soft words spoken in Amatakka drift to the forefront of your mind. But these are not from an ancient tale; they are yours, and your Amu's:
Ani, no one is powerful enough to change the galaxy alone.
I could be.
But should you?
You breathe out, and shut your lightsaber off. And the whole room seems to exhale with you.
No one says it out loud, but it's apparent that the time for games is over. The Initiates disperse, wandering off alone or in pairs, murmuring to each other in low voices. Ferus doesn't even look at you as he walks away—maybe he can't bring himself to, after twisting the knife like he just did. It's an ugly end for a day that started so beautifully; your only consolation is that it would have been far worse if you'd failed to control yourself.
Only Iskat lingers, regarding you out of the corner of her eye and holding her lightsaber as if it's as heavy as one of the Chancellor's sculptures. She waits until the others are out of earshot to say, "I've never seen anything like that."
"You don't have to rub it in," you mutter, though there's no real heat in your words anymore.
"No, I mean…" Iskat struggles for the words for a moment. "Getting pushed to the edge like that, but then…pulling yourself back before you go over. I didn't think that was possible."
You look over at her sharply, but she ducks through a gap between the garden's high rocks and is gone.
As her shrouded Force presence fades from your senses, you turn to leave. There's nothing more for you here for now.
You pass through the towering arched doorway of the Room of a Thousand Fountains to see Obi-Wan waiting right outside. Of course—he must have sensed your distress. Part of you appreciates how quickly he rushed to your aid, but another, more insistent part worries about how he'd react if he knew what really happened with Ferus. So when he asks if you're all right, you say only, "There was a disagreement during one of the sparring matches. We cleared it up. No one was seriously hurt."
Not physically, at least.
The look Obi-Wan gives you makes it clear that he knows you're not telling him everything, but thankfully, he doesn't choose to rub salt in the wound. "That may be so, but you should still take a moment to center yourself. You'll need to be as focused as you can soon—because we have a pressing appointment with the Chancellor."
Obi-Wan seems ill at ease amongst the scarlet walls and ancient artwork adorning the Chancellor's office. Perhaps he's still worrying about what happened in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, or maybe he's just not comfortable in the halls of political power. That's a sentiment you have no trouble understanding; but then, Sheev Palpatine is no ordinary politician.
"Padawan Skywalker, Knight Kenobi, good afternoon," he greets you as you sit down across the desk from him. "First and foremost, I'd like to commend you both on your handling of the situation on Huk. It's hard to imagine what sort of place the galaxy would be without Jedi like yourselves keeping the peace."
"We're all called upon to do our part, Your Excellency," Obi-Wan replies, "as Jedi or otherwise."
"Just so," says Chancellor Palpatine, glancing—so briefly you almost miss it—at the statue of Sistros of Dwartii. "Which brings me to the reason I called you two here. Your deft diplomacy negotiated a peace between Kalee and Huk; now, that peace must be secured. As you may know, the Senate can be…unruly…at the best of times. However, I believe that I can bring some of the Senators in line behind our mutual goals. Simply put: should you deem it necessary, I can, and will, marshal the votes for a relief bill for Kalee."
"Just like that?"
You didn't mean to say it out loud, but you're so surprised that the words just slip out. This is a far cry from the hemming and hawing you've come to expect from well-meaning Core Worlders. You already knew that Palpatine was different from them, of course; but now those differences are put on starker display than ever.
Palpatine smiles again, but it's not the same friendly expression with which he first greeted you. His mouth is pulled a little tighter; his eyes are harder and narrower. "Anakin, I chose to run for this office because my predecessor Valorum was content to watch the bureaucrats bicker as my homeworld burned. I assure you, there will be no such squabbling in this Chancellery if I have any say in the matter—and I most definitely do."
But before you can accept his offer, Obi-Wan speaks up. "We appreciate the help, Chancellor, and we'll certainly keep it in mind. But the Jedi Order's mandate is to take the burden of galactic peacekeeping off the shoulders of the Senate, not the other way around. We'd like to explore all of our options before putting you through such difficulties."
Palpatine carries himself with too much gravitas to shrug, but he somehow gives the impression of one without actually moving his shoulders. "Very well. I can certainly respect the desire to take matters into one's own hands. I simply ask that you remember that your Order works hand in hand with the Republic for a reason. Even the Jedi are not all-powerful."
And perhaps—if the lessons you've learned today are anything to go by—they shouldn't be.
You're still reflecting on that throughout your (unusually quiet) ride back to the Jedi Temple, and it's only once you're once again ensconced in your quarters that you ask Obi-Wan, "Why didn't you just accept his help? It feels like we just made things harder on ourselves for no reason. Especially when we only have a year to fix Kalee."
"I meant what I said," he explains. "We should explore our options first. Perhaps it's true that he can get results from the Senate in a way that Valorum never could. But even if he can, is it really the wisest course of action to put the relief plan fully in the hands of the Senate, a body that Grievous has every reason to despise?"
"Maybe not." You have to admit that it would be a hard sell for you too if you didn't know the Chancellor personally. "But we can't just sit around doing nothing, can we? Isn't it important to be decisive?"
"Of course. But only when you fully understand the choice you're about to make. Decisiveness without insight is just recklessness."
Ouch. Wise as those words are, they're also a little more pointed than Obi-Wan might have intended them to be.
He seems to realize this, because his next words are touched with conciliation that gently drifts from him in the Force. "Think of it as a lesson in one of your politics or diplomacy classes, one where there can be more than one right answer. More than anything, the key here is to learn to see possibilities."
For reasons you can't fully explain, something about that sentiment strikes a chord in you.
But it also reminds you of something, something you've been meaning to talk to Obi-Wan about since you stumbled back onto the Crucible with a brand-new lightsaber crystal in tow. "Speaking of choices and possibilities, I can think of one important decision I want to make soon…"
Obi-Wan chuckles. "Normally I'd say it would be an unnecessary distraction, but you might actually benefit from having something to keep your mind and body active while we work on our plan for Kalee. So, yes, Anakin. It's time for you to choose a lightsaber form."
Though you've been slower to train with your blade than some of your peers and therefore slower to find a style of lightsaber combat that suits you, all that means is that this day has been a long time coming. There's no set-in-stone path to blade mastery, but given your thoughts on the weapon you carry, you've found yourself favoring:
[ ] Form I - Shii-Cho
The binding unity of your mother tongue.
[ ] Form II - Makashi
The elegant precision of scalpel and song.
[ ] Form III - Soresu
The steadfast protection of elders and legends.
[ ] Form IV - Ataru
The whirling chaos of a sandstorm's winds.
[ ] Form V - Djem So
The fierce radiance of twin suns and dragon eyes.
[ ] Form VI - Niman
The untapped potential of a desert night.
Information on lightsaber forms can be found here: The Slave Who Makes Free: An Anakin Skywalker Quest Sci-Fi
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[X] Form II - Makashi
- Location
- Not the asylum anymore
- Pronouns
- She/Her
[X] Form V - Djem So
Throw Ani a bone, I say.
Throw Ani a bone, I say.
[X] Form V - Djem So
- Location
- California,USA
[X] Form V - Djem So
Ani's gotta get his Godly Blade Skill up.
Ani's gotta get his Godly Blade Skill up.