[X] …meditating.
You almost don't want to close your eyes with a such a beautiful view of hyperspace just outside the viewport, but you manage.
The seven of you, plus the two Knights appointed to guide you, are sitting cross-legged in a circle on the floor of the transport's passenger hold. Obi-Wan and Knight Tachi have brought you all together for a group meditation, to work on connecting with each other in the Force. It's an exercise that the others have done countless times during their upbringing in the Temple, but for you it's still a relative novelty—especially with so many people. Fortunately, opening yourself to the Force is something you've never had a difficult time with.
Just as you did when Obi-Wan first taught you, you begin with your breathing and your heartbeat and extend your awareness outward from there, further and further until it reaches beyond the bounds of your senses. But instead of reaching out as far as you can, you focus on those around you, on the flow of the Force around and through them.
In many ways, what you're experiencing defies comprehension by a single consciousness, and so you come to understand it through abstraction and metaphor. Your ordinary senses cannot grasp the totality of it—instead they paint a picture of what it is like. You are reminded as you immerse yourself in the Force that the map is not the territory.
As close as you have grown to your friends over the past few months, your first and strongest bond is with your teacher. Obi-Wan's presence at first seems diffuse, pulled in many directions at once; but a closer examination shows you that it is solidifying bit by bit, drawing inward. He is shaping himself into a shield, a thing to be interposed between danger and peace. It's a drive you can respect: he may have lost Qui-Gon, but he will see no one else fall on his watch.
Knight Tachi hews close to him—closer than you expected, even, although "distance" is not truly a meaningful concept when speaking of the Force. She seems to weave herself from strands of liquid cable or spider silk: flexible, adaptable, yet nearly impossible to break. It's easy to see how she and Obi-Wan work so well together.
A pulse of energy draws your attention from the two of them to Serra and Darra, who are still testing each other even now. Serra's "form" is that of a lightning storm, striking unpredictably at all angles as the river/tree/tower that is Darra channels the flow of her current into more peaceful shapes. Witnessing it reminds you in a way of the duel you witnessed between Qui-Gon and Maul on Tatooine, but where that clash was deadly, this one is playful—even complimentary, like a dance. It occurs to you for the first time to wonder what the two of them could do if they fought side by side; you pity whatever enemy has to face them both.
Beside them both in the material world and in the Force is Tru with his elegant clockwork mind, examining the Force presences around him in intricate detail. From a distance he is easily mistaken as a creature of pure logic, but even as they tick through their mechanical sequence, the cogs and springs that drive his presence glow with an inner warmth. Meanwhile, Bode flits around all of you like a mischievous will-o-wisp, here one moment and gone the next before reappearing somewhere else, and yet you sense that he is every bit as observant as Tru; even the tiniest disturbances in the Force are drawn in around him as curls of smoke following in his wake. He is not shy, merely waiting for his moment to make himself known.
The one who is shy is, of all people, Iskat. Or perhaps "shy" is not the right word—"withdrawn" or "reclusive" might be closer to the truth. She has folded herself back, down, and inwards until all that can be perceived of her is a single point of light floating in the ether. You've had an inkling of what might be concealed within those folds ever since she spoke to you of her struggle to follow the Code, but you sense that the time is not yet right—if it ever will be—to push her to blossom.
Ferus, on the other hand, lives and breathes the Code. Which is why you tend to give him a wide berth on any plane of existence. But even from your remove, you can see what he's doing. He constructs his presence in imitation of the Jedi he sees around him, hammering it into Obi-Wan's shield, weaving it like Siri's threads. Whenever he makes a slip—and some of the slips are too small for even your Force-sensitivity to perceive—he fades for a moment, undoes his work, and then starts again.
Even Professor Huyang appears to you in the Force, though it takes you a moment to focus on him. He may not be flesh and blood, but he is a sapient mind, which is far more important. You can sense the traces of old kyber crystals on him, of countless students stretching back in an unbroken line, and only now does it dawn on you how ancient he truly is. He is enfolded in legacies of the blades they forged in his care, wrapping him up like a cloak in all the hues of the rainbow and many others besides.
And then there is you.
You have long been aware that your strength in the Force outshines your peers. To look directly at you is to be blinded by your light, and fail in the end to see you as you truly are. You've often resented that in your short time at the Temple—in fact, you've resented it since the Jedi High Council made that very same mistake when you came before them for the first time. But today, you're grateful for it. The star-fire of your presence hides the pain of slavery and the place where your Amu's absence dwells like a phantom limb.
An indeterminable amount of time passes before you return to the shell of your body. The first sensation that greets you is the feeling of the durasteel deck plating beneath you; the second is the sound of the cockpit comm going off.
Obi-Wan gets up to check it, and reads the message you've been sent. "Apparently we're to make a brief stop on our journey," he says. "There's been a great deal of instability in the northern Rim lately, so we've been requested to dock at Bilbringi and rendezvous with a Judicial Forces escort that will take us the rest of the way to Ilum."
There's a faint tremor in the Force when you hear those words. It doesn't point to Bilbringi, but something beyond. You'll have to be prepared…but prepared for what?
**
The question lingers the rest of the way to the rendezvous, but for a moment it falls to the back of your mind as you drop out of hyperspace in one of the greatest shipyards in the galaxy.
Growing up as a junk-shop slave on an isolated planet in the far Outer Rim, you've naturally seen your fair share of ships in various states of disrepair—stripped for parts, damaged by dust storms on the ground or solar storms in space, blasted by bounty hunters or smugglers. But this is the first time you've ever seen them being built, and there is an intentionality to it that fascinates you. Vast rings of durasteel form a connected sequence not unlike gigantic interlocking cogs, with partly completed ships rotating through each step in the construction process before being tractor-beamed to the next. Just outside the window, you see a Corellian CR70 corvette being fitted with new engines, its outer cowling stripped away to reveal the intricate pathways of fuel and power lines. Elsewhere, countless other ships, from bulk freighters to private luxury yachts to the imposing Dreadnought heavy cruisers, are being pieced together step by careful step. You watch closely, trying to take in every single thing you see, as your transport winds its way through the industrial powerhouse.
Beyond the shipyards, guarding the main hyperlane into the system, is your destination: the naval outpost where you are meant to meet up with the Judicial Forces. You are guided to a dock by a flight controller speaking in the distinctive dual-flanged voice of an Ithorian and a cheerful astromech droid whose beeps and whirrs make you miss the steadfast company of R2-D2.
But as their voices fade from the comms, you're greeted not by the single-ship escort you expected but by a small flotilla. A Consular-class cruiser like the one that (you are told) brought Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon to Naboo, upgunned and refitted for frontier patrol duty, flies at its head. In formation with the cruiser are three Gozanti transports with their narrow, gently curved hulls and a squadron of long-nosed Headhunter fighters.
This is not a token show of force to ward off pirates and slavers. It is, you have learned, as close as the Republic ever gets to girding itself for war.
Has the crisis on Naboo really destabilized things so much—even here, on the opposite side of the galaxy? You make a mental note to ask as soon as you know who can answer the question.
It's only a few more moments before you find out who that person is, for your ship is hailed by the cruiser's captain. Knight Tachi fires up the holoprojector, and you are presented with the image of a tall, straight-backed human woman with her hair pulled up in a tight bun. Her precise bearing reminds you a little of Ferus, and the resemblance only increases when she opens her mouth, for her accent is pure, unadulterated upper-echelon Coruscanti.
"Greetings, Jedi transport," she says. "This is Captain Chara Vaere of the Republic Judicial Forces cruiser Carth Onasi speaking. We have completed our pre-flight inspections and are ready to see you safely to your destination."
"Greetings, Captain Vaere," Knight Tachi replies. "This is Jedi Knight Siri Tachi. We're grateful for the RJF's assistance, although I think I speak for both of us when I say that I hope we won't need it."
"Likewise," says Captain Vaere, "but this galaxy doesn't always align itself to our hopes."
**
Once your transport docks with the Onasi, Obi-Wan surprises you by suggesting that the two of you meet the Captain in person.
"Why?" you ask. "It's just a trip to Ilum and back. It's not like we'll be on her ship for that long."
"Even so, we'll be putting our lives in her hands if danger should arise during that time," Obi-Wan says. "And Captain Vaere certainly seemed to think that was likely. Wouldn't you like to know what kind of a person is standing at your side when danger strikes?"
When, he says, not if. Suddenly you remember the disturbance in the Force you sensed when you were summoned to Bilbringi.
"All right then," you say. "Let's go say hi."
You find Captain Vaere in what would, on a standard version of the Consular-class cruiser, be a salon pod where diplomats and plenipotentiaries would convene to shape the future of the galaxy. On this ship, it has instead been converted into a forward command center, a place from which the galaxy's future can be shaped in a different and altogether more violent way.
"Thank you for agreeing to meet us, Captain," Obi-Wan says. "I'm Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi, and this is my Padawan, Anakin Skywalker."
She inclines her head in greeting. "A pleasure. I'm Captain Chara Vaere, but I think you already know that. And your name seems familiar as well. Obi-Wan Kenobi, where have I heard that before?" She thinks for a moment, and then: "Ah. You were one of the Jedi who helped us end the Hyperspace War."
Obi-Wan tilts his head curiously. "You fought at Qotile?"
"That I did, Master Jedi." Though Captain Vaere's face remains impassive, in the Force you feel her swell with pride. "I was only an Ensign then, part of a Judicial Forces unit suborned by that meddling parvenu Tarkin"—the name is a curse on her lips—"but I still fought to hold our ground against Stark and his pirates, as my family's honor demanded. Fortunately, the valour of the Judicials, and the Jedi of course, carried the day."
"And laid the groundwork for what was to come," Obi-Wan murmurs.
"The crisis on Naboo, yes" agrees Captain Vaere. She pauses, and then adds, "My condolences on the loss of your Master."
"Thank you." There's a moment of silence, and you can sense Obi-Wan allowing himself to feel the enormity of the loss. Then he breathes in, breathes out, and—not for the last time—lets go.
"Wait," you say, as you feel his grief pass into the Force. "When you said 'Stark and his pirates', was that Iaco Stark?"
"You know the name?" Captain Vaere asks.
You do. It's spoken alongside curses and maledictions in the slave quarters even today, over a decade later. "The bacta shortage he set off hit even harder in the Outer Rim, and of course what little was left went to the Hutts. It was before my time, but my mom told me she lost friends who didn't have to die."
The Captain raises an eyebrow. "I thought Jedi were raised in the Temple…taken from their families in their infancy."
"Anakin is something of a…special case," Obi-Wan explains, without really explaining anything at all.
Captain Vaere seems to take a moment to process that, and then asks a curious question: "Then you didn't come to Coruscant until you were much older than most Jedi? If I may, what was your first impression of her?"
What was it like? As usual, you choose honesty over tact. "It was…new. That's the best way to describe it, I guess. I spent my whole life on one planet, doing one thing. Then I came to Coruscant and I wasn't thinking about how many people there were or how a whole planet could be a city, I was thinking, 'This is somewhere other than home.' For better and for worse."
You hardly need the Force to tell you that that is not the answer she wanted.
Even so, she hides it well. "Interesting," is all she says.
You glance up at her—though not very far up. She's a tall woman, but your growth spurt is already beginning to hit. "You asked me a question—now can I ask you one?"
"Within reason, young Padawan," says Captain Vaere guardedly, glancing at Obi-Wan.
"Why are there so many ships in our escort? If you just wanted to hold off pirates, this cruiser or even a Gozanti with a couple Headhunters would probably be enough. What's really going on out here?"
"That's a much more pressing question than hers," Obi-Wan points out drily. You give him a faux-innocent look that fools him not in the least.
"It's quite alright," the Captain assures you. "It's a key piece of intelligence, and not one I'd withhold from my own charges. You see…the region of the Rim we're traveling through isn't just unstable. It's a baradium canister ready to explode. Ever since Naboo, all sorts of unsavory groups have been emboldened to make more aggressive moves, especially because Nute Gunray hasn't come to trial yet."
You grimace. You hardly needed a reminder of how the Republic's courts have delayed and deflected justice for the Viceroy's manifold crimes.
"That's true all over the galaxy, but the northwest is particularly troublesome," she goes on. "This region is a place where many galactic powers clash. The Banking Clan. The raiders of the Son-Tuul Pride. The shipyards on Yaga Minor and Jaemus. Even some less influential systems like Ansion are seeking alliances with their neighbors to strengthen themselves against incursions. As I said: it's a baradium canister. And the disappearance or death of a group of Jedi on what I gather is a key rite of passage would be the perfect spark to set it off."
"We Jedi can take care of ourselves," you point out, a little more heatedly than you intended. "You talk like we need to be babysat, but you don't know how powerful the Force can be. Maybe the pirates and the Banking Clan should be watching out for us."
Obi-Wan shoots you a warning look, but it's Captain Vaere who responds, her voice locked into a stiff military cadence. "Perhaps they should be, Padawan, but my family has served this Republic faithfully and honorably for twenty-five thousand years. We have not come so far for me to falter in my duty now. I will execute my orders faithfully and to the best of my ability."
Perhaps the Force has a sense of humor, for it's then that the command center's comm goes off.
Captain Vaere answers it, and reads the shorthand coded message within. The Force seems to rumble with a seismic portent as she says, "It's a distress call. Judicial ships requesting reinforcements in the…Huk system. And…" She glances at you and Obi-Wan. "There's a call for Jedi support."
This is the source of the disturbance you sensed earlier, you're certain of it—a moment dropped into the timeline like a stone into a pond, sending ripples backward in time as well as forward.
"I could detach some of the Gozantis with Knight Tachi to see your Padawan and the Initiates through their journey, while you stay with the Onasi to deal with the crisis," Captain Vaere offers to Obi-Wan, unaware of the way your thoughts have been set alight.
You yearn to stay with him and follow this Force-touched distress call to its source. And you suspect he would let you if you asked…but for once, in deference to Obi-Wan's teachings, you take a moment to think it through.
You don't have to go. What awaits you at Huk, if the Judicials are calling for not just more ships but the aid of the Jedi, will almost certainly be a war zone—one you will be going into unarmed. And undertaking a mission as a Padawan while your peers remain Initiates with uncertain futures will remind them of the gap that remains between you as they face the Gathering without you.
And yet…what is the alternative? To complete the first and perhaps most important trial of a Jedi without Obi-Wan at your side? Worse, to undertake it knowing that he may be headed into deadly danger while you are powerless to help?
Sometimes, the power to choose can be as much a curse as a blessing.
[ ] Accompany Obi-Wan to Huk.
Stand by your mentor as he faces war and strife.
[ ] Accompany Knight Tachi and the Initiates to Ilum.
Stand by your friends as their spirits are tested.
