The worn saddle creaks again... Ah, no... Stop! That's from another opera, clearly not from the space opera I've landed in and have been successfully trying to survive in for almost fifteen years. We spent almost a week at the Temple. We ate, we drank, we trained... Drallig went berserk and staged duel after duel for me. Moreover, all our duels were with full loadouts, meaning everything could be used. Except for combat sabers, which we set aside, perfectly understanding that by increasing the tempo, speed, strength with enhancements and using combat sabers, we could successfully kill our own comrades. Especially with my passion, seizing the moment, to perform a "pure Sith" Shiak or even decapitate.
Alas, Drizm did not predispose me to excessive love for sentient beings. The situation there was awful. We clashed with Mandalorians... And these guys always fought ferociously with the Jedi. Yes, we have physical parameters on our side, by which we can surpass everyone. The Force is on our side... But, as some individuals found out... Posthumously found out. Physical superiority is not everything. Not always having an absolute advantage can you win... Miracles happen from case to case. An old and experienced warrior, over time, gives way to a young and assertive one. So – let the naive children attack, using Shii-Cho. They chop off arms, legs, destroy weapons. For me, my own safety is more important. And, as my mentor told me – you will be safe only when the last enemy falls by your sword. Until then... Alas. And we have many enemies... Sith, for example. The Crimson Kraken, according to the information shared by the Jedi Shadows, as those involved, was completely destroyed as a result of an attack by unknown mercenaries. The Kraken leaders were tortured with electricity, apparently trying to find something out... Although, considering WHO EXACTLY they might have been acquainted with – most likely the electricity had a Force nature. Alas, they couldn't determine that an Adept had worked. A mysterious boss... He was considered non-adept, until now. After all, who could this boss be? No one even knew his approximate identity, Shillaj only mentioned him in passing.
Anyone can hire an Adept, not all are taken and trained by the Jedi. Various adepts of all sorts of sects travel freely through the Galaxy, providing services as mercenaries, guards... In short – they do all sorts of things. I, however, was now... Resting after another duel with Cin. Yes... Cin knows all the forms, somewhere better, somewhere worse... I use Soresu and Ataru, switching between them in combat, not combining both forms into one in any way... I still know little, and besides, they are two opposites. I was sitting in the meditation hall, watching holovideo. The HoloNet is known for the fact that you can find anything in it if you try.
And so I found the battles of Tyron Jarps. He was distinguished... Not by beastly behavior. On the contrary – his movements in combat were clearly precise. Not like those I saw from the Mandalorians of the Kraken. Every movement of his in massive armor had meaning. He shot perfectly... It was shown how he immediately dealt with ten sentient beings... With a certain laziness and cold-bloodedness. Through the prism of my upbringing, I would say that he doesn't make unnecessary movements. Or he does, but the minimum.
"Are you studying him?" the voice of the Grand Master was heard.
"Grand Master," I stood up from the soft pouf I was sitting on, studying the holovideo with Tyron.
"Light," the Master nodded in greeting. "You've been many places since you left the Temple," not really. "But you've returned much stronger. It warms my soul that you've returned and haven't broken."
"How could I break," I grumbled, "Master Lorm doesn't give me time for that."
"Lorm turned out to be a good mentor for you," Yoda twisted his lips into a semblance of a smile. "Even I thought about training you, or entrusting you to someone from the Council. But they wouldn't have coped with your problems the way your Teacher did in his time, yes... Seeing his example before you, you instinctively started to take the best from him, and also... you started helping him to shed his hood, which he threw over his gaze after everything that happened to him."
"Did you plan this? Foresee it?"
"The future is foggy," Yoda said meaningfully. "You have great potential, I sensed it and wanted you to become a Great Jedi."
"Then..."
"However, your path is long," Yoda pointed a finger at me. "But walk it and you will become a worthy Knight."
Silence hung in the room. Yoda's conversation was somewhat disjointed, so I didn't know how to support it. Although...
"Master," I called to Yoda. "What can you tell me about Force Visions?"
"Do visions trouble you?" Yoda asked. "Which ones?"
"Let me think... I see a girl I don't know sinking to the floor, and then – only darkness. This dream, which has been recurring for more than one night. Is this the future?"
"The past is passed, the future is closed, the present is a gift," Yoda said importantly. "No matter how many Visions you see, don't forget about the present."
"I understand. Only, I wanted to know about future events: if I see some event, but I want to change it, but it only leads to this event," by the way, this reminds me of the Novikov self-consistency principle. If you try to avoid a certain future, possessing knowledge about this future, no matter how you obtained it, there is a chance that you will reach this future. The Force is so vile in terms of visions, that it shows a future that can be obtained even with changes, no matter what you do. Therefore, I believe that to change the future of this Galaxy – a TOTAL replacement of something should be carried out. For example – the Jedi Order. If "correct sentiments" reign in them, then Sidious will get nothing. And for this, a plan of conversations with influential Jedi in the future must be developed... But that's later, when I gain authority. But let's return to the dying brunette from anything. I didn't see the girl's face, only her straight back and black hair that cascaded down her shoulders. She fell as if mowed down, and then darkness... Where is the darkness? I tried to examine the room, but saw nothing but the usual floor and a bunch of doors. This place was unfamiliar to me.
"That's true, however, the future is constantly in motion. Events can be changed, but remember that they can also be worsened. I would advise you to let this go..."
"But didn't you say that Jedi should protect sentient beings?" I asked, raising my voice slightly. "What's the point of the Jedi and me if, seeing the death of a stranger girl, I should abstract myself from it and let it go?"
"Because the Force can show only those visions that mainly concern those closely connected with you. Global visions, which determine the fate of the Galaxy – are rare and are only seen by trained seers. This girl is connected to you in some way. You must let go of such things, this is the wisdom of the Jedi. It is the will of the Force..."
"And what's the point of blindly following the Will of the Force?" I snapped. "If it shows that the Jedi must disappear: will we all silently go into exile? Or commit ritual suicide?"
"No," Yoda shook his head. "You speak dangerous things. But we will do none of what you have listed, because the Galaxy needs us. The Force is everywhere in the Galaxy. Between you, me... Midi-chlorians only give us potential. Both the Galaxy and the Force need us as those who protect sentient beings."
"We protect them, I agree," I parodied Yoda slightly. "But won't I have to prevent that girl's death?"
"And look at it from another angle," Yoda said, "what price will you pay for preventing the death of one sentient being? The Mad Knights killed their padawans, setting off a chain of tragic events. And what will you do? Will it not lead to the death of sentient beings on a larger scale?"
"The lives of billions are more valuable than one, is that the justice of the Jedi?"
"Life is a cycle," Yoda replied calmly. "Where it decreases, it increases elsewhere. You must understand this, Light. Understand and accept it."
The conversation with Yoda was over, but questions still swirled in my head. Although they mostly concerned the moment: who is she anyway... I saw the girl from behind and couldn't really make her out. And will she die? There, in the future? Maybe she just fainted. More questions... But I had to distract myself. By the end of our week of rest, my mentor and I boarded the ship and left Coruscant for Chandrila.
"The center of the Galaxy, and sentient beings lack adventure," Lorm sighed dramatically, reading information about the Karnur family on his datapad. We were in the cockpit of my ship, which I was piloting... Or rather, counting the minutes until exiting hyperspace. "You, Light, if you weren't Gifted, what would you do? You'd probably marry Rivi, have kids, become a worthy Sephi," I blushed, feeling the blood rush to my face, although I had long grown accustomed to his rudeness. I hadn't even thought about Rivi like that. And Lorm... Lately, he's been in a peculiar, angry mood. He says he senses a strange threat, but what kind? Because of all this, he has doubled down on my training. "And the Karnurs?" the mentor continued. "Joiran Karnur... Twenty-three years old, single. A cheerful drunkard who became a smuggler! His family is rich, he could have gone to university and even applied to Alderaanian, and then spat on it and went to the Unknown Regions for adventure. Crazy, and his sister... Here, Mila Karnur. Sixteen years old. Beautiful, damn it," Lorm whistled, though he does that with all women and girls of appropriate age. I saw him at the Temple... He looks at all the girls and women with a keen gaze, studying them. Jedi women are trained, their bodies are slender and beautiful. I myself caught myself thinking that I was staring at a fiery brunette. But that must be rejected... It's not time yet. I still need to figure out what to do with the visions. "She completed mechanic courses. For practice, she hired herself onto a ship with a captain of unverified reputation. And she vanished, along with the ship and the entire crew. The only lead – a fired Chandrila spaceport officer. And she could have taken courses that didn't put her on a ship, lived on the planet, maybe I would have met her someday."
I glanced, fleetingly, at the datapad and was stunned. Face: beautiful, even. Not noble like aristocrats, but also, somehow elevated with a neat, slightly upturned nose. Black hair cascaded down the shoulders of the girl, who stood in a form-fitting jumpsuit, similar to those worn by the Temple's technical staff. Her chest wasn't particularly prominent, but her figure was slender.
"Falling in love with a holophoto is not the best fate, apprentice," Lorm remarked. "You should study her character too."
"I'm not in love, it's just... She's memorable," I hastened to justify myself. "And besides, there are millions like her in the Galaxy."
"Which is true, my promising young padawan in matters of love, which is why I spoke about character..."
"And no lectures?" I asked my teacher. "Teacher..."
"What lectures do you expect from me?" the Teacher asked sarcastically. "From whom? From me? A sentient being who sleeps in brothels and doesn't shy away from sexual relations? As for mastering Force Techniques – always welcome. I'll even blast you with lightning, for good measure. But lectures about the call of the flesh... PFF!" Lorm snorted. "On the contrary, I believe that the call of the flesh should be appeased in the usual way, as nature intended."
"Feelings – lead to the Dark Side, which you, by the way, consider wild..."
"Hah. I can sleep with prostitutes, or I can meet a worthy woman on some planet and fall in love like a boy. Do you think such a thing is impossible for someone like me? I've had such women..."
"Like Officer Dizzy?"
"Probably," he shivered. "Never mind. Here's what I want to tell you. Feelings are what make us alive. We all have them. Without them – we are just empty shells with minds. And do you know who else is like that?"
"No..."
"Droids," Dezer replied. "Iron without feelings..."
"I strongly protest the words of this horned cattle," BB-7 beeped, "we have a personal manifesto!"
"Manifesto?" Lorm asked. "And is it determined by your program or your opinion? When you first saw Light, what did you do when you realized he was your master? Did you behave like you would with a stranger you saw for the first time, or did you immediately run to fawn over him?"
"Master, this cattle doesn't understand droid feelings at all! Let's throw him out the airlock!"
"Calm down BB-7 and better get ready. We're exiting hyperspace near Chandrila," the blue of hyperspace disappeared, revealing stars and a large planet. The Perlemian Trade Route is quite busy. Dozens, hundreds of ships were heading to Chandrila, which is on this route. Merchants mainly don't sell there, but buy goods, because the further from Coruscant, the cheaper... And the less safe, because the scheme with pirate agents who inform their patrons about "profitable" ships – works perfectly. At least – according to the reports of the Knights who deal with pirates. Alas, even in the strongest state formations, parasites can appear. They survive anywhere and always... The Galactic Republic, of the fifty-sixth year before the Battle of Yavin IV, which, I hope, will not happen, was a prime example of weakness and sloppiness. Rondan Igraam, a Chandrila Spaceport officer, worked for almost ten years in this position, letting smugglers who brought in illegal goods pass through without properly inspecting arriving ships. His superior knew about his activities for sure, but did nothing until the Jedi became interested in Rondan. And even then – it wasn't the Guardians, who investigate crimes, or the Defenders, who might be interested in Rondan's acquaintances... An archaeologist became interested in him, who had to find the ship on which Mila Karnur, the sister of the smuggler who stole an important Sith artifact, flew away! And, alas, Mila Karnur was our only lead in this matter.
Joiran left no further clues about himself, that's the first thing. And the second – the Crimson Kraken was destroyed, and completely. All who knew him and could hypothetically find Joiran – are dead. Only Mila Karnur remained, who, like her brother, disappeared.
"This is Chandrila Central Spaceport, operator Kaler," the face of a man with dark circles under his eyes appeared on the screen, apparently from lack of sleep. "Identify yourselves. Your ship does not match the signatures of ships previously registered in our Spaceport."
"Jedi Knight Lorm Dezer and my padawan Light Flaingstar," my mentor introduced us.
"Master Jedi?" the operator straightened up. "Please forgive me, I will arrange a corridor for you."
The Jedi, despite their decline, were still part of the Republic and had incredible privileges. In the Core Worlds, this was felt acutely. We could land at any Spaceport and, in fact, any government service – was free for us... If you think about it, you could even get into university for free, just by presenting yourself as a Jedi and confirming it. It's another matter that no one uses this. From the perspective of politics, diplomacy, combat skills, piloting, hacking computer systems and using computers, survival – Jedi already receive the best education possible. There are some problems in terms of economics, political economy, troop command... The latter, in particular, is a gap. We studied the last discipline only as an elective history, where we analyzed the most famous battles involving members of the Order. But tactics and strategies were taught superficially, and certainly no one prepared us for wars... That's why my Order could... And failed in the Clone Wars. After all, war is not a skirmish with pirates. It's something more global. Although it won't happen in this Galaxy, I'll try...
The atmosphere of Chandrila was pure. This planet was fed by the agricultural sector and grew food, while the Chandrilan House, the so-called governing body of the planet, pursued a policy of reducing birth rates "so as not to disrupt the planet's ecology." Chandrila was also known for its democracy... The fact is that any citizen of the planet could argue about politics. Sometimes debates escalated into fights, but at the same time – it was still "democratic."
We got out of the ship immediately after landing, leaving BB-7, as always, to watch the ship. Jedi ships were not checked, so, as Dezer once told me: he sometimes smuggled harmless contraband to planets... For example, alcohol to planets with a "dry law"... Those who don't understand politics well. Dry laws are not introduced for no reason. This time we didn't leave the Spaceport, but immediately went to the head of this place. We needed information about Rondan Igraam. We were admitted to the reception room without much trouble. At the table in the head's office sat a mature woman with a simple bob haircut of red hair. Her uniform was also quite simple, white.
"You are the arriving Jedi," the woman said in a serious voice, looking away from the computer screen. "For what reason have you come not just to Chandrila, but specifically to my office?"
Beyond the wide panoramic window of the spaceport chief's office, a bustling street was visible, with speeders flying and sentient beings walking. The office of the sentient being in power was furnished in a simple style. On Chandrila, simplicity was valued in almost everything.
"To begin with," Lorm bowed slightly, and his mentor's eyes greedily darted over the woman's figure. "Allow me to introduce myself. Lorm Dezer, Jedi Knight. This is my apprentice. Padawan Jedi – Light Flaingstar."
"Rinis Motma," the woman replied calmly. Yes, the mentor, as always, found a beautiful woman, and he seemed to change. The cynicism and malice in his voice disappeared, and he began to speak more culturedly. And Rinis was worth looking at. She was mature, but at the same time – beautiful, with a slender figure that her uniform only accentuated. The fiery red hair attracted attention. "And at the same time. I don't want to waste your time," the Chandrilian cut off. "I'm conducting a personnel check."
"Personnel check?" Lorm asked.
"After one of them became interested in your Order," the woman smiled. "Some details came to light... My father, the planet's ruler, Shand Motma, is very concerned. He fired the former Spaceport chief and ordered me to check this place. I had to fire thirty percent of the staff," that's why I thought there were few employees in the corridors we walked through. But there were many guards. "So..."
"Rondan Igraam led us here," Lorm took the word, interrupting her explanations. "You, madam, as the new chief – must have received his personal file? The fact is that Rondan, as if he vanished into thin air, after being dismissed from service. The Guardians who visited the planet could not find either him or the information we needed – and they returned home. I remember the mentor threw a tantrum in the training hall. He said he was an archaeologist, not an investigator!"
"I remember the Jedi," the woman nodded. "They came. I told them the same thing I'll tell you. Rondan Igraam loves the cantina in a rather disreputable area of Hanna City," the woman said through clenched teeth. Hanna City... The capital of the planet where we landed. The central transport hub.
"Are there disreputable areas in the Core Worlds?" I asked.
"Well, I wouldn't say so," Rinis shook her head. "At least for us, they are disreputable areas. For other worlds – I doubt they would consider these areas disreputable. Rather, areas with increased criminal activity. These creatures will get everywhere. So – look for him there."
The woman nodded at Lorm's hand, and he launched his datapad. Information with coordinates arrived.
"We'll find him," Lorm nodded. "Thank you for the information, Madam Rinis."
"You're welcome," the woman snorted. "I wish you luck. Or, as you say: 'May the Force be with you.' It wasn't with the previous ones, and they didn't find Rondan, neither at his home nor in the cantina."
"Searching is my forte... By the way," Lorm stopped, and I sighed heavily. "Esteemed, beautiful lady: and where will I be able to find you? Say, this evening?"
The woman thought, judging by her silence, and after ten seconds said:
"This evening I am inspecting the department of rape, harassment, and domestic violence investigations. If you are interested – I can give you a tour, Master Jedi," she said sarcastically.
"No, thank you very much," Lorm Dezer raised his hands. "We'll go."
Already in the corridor, I couldn't help but laugh.
"Oh, I can't, mentor," I clutched my stomach. "The department of rape and harassment investigations! This department is practically made for your needs."
"I would ask you to deign to shut up, my young student," the teacher walking beside me tried to silence me. "Rinis is dangerous, yes. I must be cautious. But isn't that more interesting, don't you think, my young student? And furthermore: let it be known to you – I have never raped women. It has always been by mutual consent!"
"Even with Officer Dizzy?" I asked him.
"When will you forget about her?" the mentor swallowed. "And in general. What kind of tone is that when addressing an elder? What will you grow up to be if you talk so sarcastically to your favorite teacher!"
"A Jedi Knight?" I asked him as we emerged into the square near the Spaceport. The air of Chandrila was clean and fresh, even near the spaceport. The buildings were constructed in a classic, European style. Among them stood out the House of Government, where political issues were discussed, as well as the Central Gladean Park, known for its beauty. Chandrilians even compare it to the Hall of a Thousand Fountains of our Temple. Naive sentient beings, however... "At least someone who won't have to visit the department of investigation for harassment and domestic violence."
"With all due respect, Master Jedi," a man's voice was heard. We turned and noticed a police patrolman. "There is no such Police department on our planet, and there never has been."
So it's time for them to create one, because Lorm Dezer loves women. No, I love women too. They are beautiful, some are smart, cunning, and do useful things. But Lorm Dezer... LOVES WOMEN too actively.
"That cunning woman! She tricked me!"
"Who?" the policeman asked.
"Princess Rinis," I grinned.
"Ah, Madam Rinis," the guardian of order chuckled understandingly. "Well, you are lucky. Madam Rinis recently found her close... quite close friend in her own sister's bed and now dislikes men a little..."
"And how many policemen know about the personal life of the Planet's Princess?" Lorm suddenly asked seriously.
"The policeman who happens to be in the right place at the right time," the patrolman bowed slightly. "Allow me to introduce myself. Captain of the Chandrila Patrol Police – Gauthier Pirmallon," the man with fair hair bowed slightly.
"You didn't approach us for no reason," Lorm concluded.
"That's right," the man confirmed. "But who talks about street affairs? Come with me. You are looking for Rondan Igraam, aren't you? I can help you in your search. Alas, your colleagues were arrogant and did not succeed. But perhaps you are less dismissive of the aspirations of sentient beings?"
The cantina Gauthier led us into was lively but had unique features: private rooms for negotiations. It was into one of these that Gauthier invited us. He settled himself at the table relatively casually, caressing an alcoholic drink. The Master ordered the same, and I bought myself juice from local fruits... Mmm, it's so similar to apple juice!
"So?" Lorm put his feet on the table, spitting on the Captain's grimacing face. "What do you want from us?"
"You are the second pair of Jedi to arrive on Chandrila," the Captain remarked.
"And we are less patient," Lorm pressed him with his gaze. "Stop beating around the bush! We have two desires: either information about Rondan Igraam, or about Mila Karnur!"
"I haven't heard of the latter," the officer pursed his lips, "but I have information about Rondan. But... there's one small 'but'."
"And what is this 'but'?" I asked him.
"It so happened," Gauthier poured himself another drink, "that Rondan Igraam's case could ricochet and affect me, and also... some people from the high apparatus. Madam Rinis got too carried away with the topic. But the results of her research are too frightening... I would say so."
"I see," Lorm nodded. "So that's how it is. Rondan Igraam wasn't found because some of those people captured him and tried to extract information about their involvement in the 'Spaceport affair' with his help. But he was fired earlier, deprived of access to the terminals. And without it, none of you can delete certain traces from Rinis's computer."
"Yes," Gauthier nodded. "Your colleagues... were careless enough to behave arrogantly towards me. Although I offered them my help too persistently. Alas, they did not dare to do so and flew away."
This was not in the report. And besides – the Guardians didn't dare to risk an investigation? Something is not right here...
"Alas, they forgot about manners and even tried to arrest me, but failed..."
"Because – an attempt to arrest you means that a 'big man' will cover for you," Lorm guessed. "An excessively big man. I suppose, someone from the board... No, only the ruler himself can deter Jedi, and even then not always... Or... A Senator."
"Please don't continue," Gauthier smiled gently. "So, do you agree? Alas, honorable people are not capable of doing what I will ask you to do..."
"Mda," Lorm sighed. I, meanwhile, shifted my gaze from the mentor to Gauthier, ready for any decision the Knight would make.
"We will give you the information that Rondan tells us, or, if you wish, you can talk to him yourself. So, what do you say?"
"I'll say... I'll say... That you've become insolent!" Lorm Dezer waved his hand and pressed Gauthier against the wall.
"What? What are you doing?!" At that very second, a wave spread from my body, instantly covering all possible surveillance electronics. We have a minute at most.
"Why don't we conduct an interrogation. With dispassion. Do you know what that is?" Lorm asked, pulling out the hilt of his blade. "With the dispassionate face of an impotent man, before whom the most beautiful woman in the Galaxy spreads her legs – I will cut off your limbs."
"You... You! You won't dare!" Gauthier exclaimed.
"Why not?" Lorm asked directly. "Jedi are forbidden to kill. And that's true, I try to avoid killing when I can," – yes, exactly, damn it! Although Gauthier believed him. – "But to cut off an arm, or a leg?" he asked him. "I'll say you attacked me and they'll believe me. And you'll go down for corruption. The security guards at the control panel are bought by you? They'll go with you. And your patron won't save you. Either – you just tell us everything you know about Rondan and the information you could have traded us."
"I'll tell you!" Gauthier howled, the mentor activated his lightsaber, which had been turned off until then.
"Well!"
"Rondan is already dead! We just took all the information we could from him. There's also information about Mila Karnur! Just let me go, please!"
"WHERE IS THE INFORMATION?" the teacher asked.
"In my Bank vault!" Gauthier howled. "I'll give you the infochip, just let me go."
Just then the door opened and three sentient beings rushed in with blasters at the ready.
"We shouldn't interfere in a war," Lorm said briefly.
I raised my hand: "It's okay," with more conviction in my voice. "Mr. Gauthier just fell. Master Jedi kindly offered him help. And the cameras are glitching because they broke down. We should go..."
"Yes, they should go," one of the guards said. The trio turned and left.
"Alas, it doesn't work on a strong mind," Lorm sighed. "However, if you don't cooperate, we'll just drive you to a vegetable state with this technique, and then turn you over to a psychiatric hospital."
"Jedi don't do that," Gauthier shook his head.
"Hah... You don't know how some Jedi can act. I can tell you this: you're lucky. Jedi don't always follow the Senator's decision; sometimes, to solve a problem, special Jedi might come. Most likely, one such individual would have come here, Captain."
"And you wouldn't have survived meeting her. But as it is, you still have a chance," I remarked. "You give us the necessary information, and we'll let you go."
"If you let me go – I'm dead!" the captain exclaimed.
"You should have thought about that earlier," Lorm snorted.
As for what would happen to Gauthier and the Senator from Chandrila – we didn't care. We later handed Gauthier over to the Security Service of Rinis Motma, who even smiled at our mentor. We didn't trust the police. But Gauthier's information could be trusted. It horrified us. Mila Karnur had fallen into the hands of slave traders! There are those in the Galaxy who like to break arrogant and rude girls from the Core Worlds. Even the poor live quite well here. Naturally, there were those who delivered residents of the Central regions to the Outer ones, sold them, and "had fun." Rondan worked with them. The ship was called: "Jumping Path" and was a rather huge passenger vessel, on board which personnel were recruited, mainly girls, women, sometimes men. And then they made a jump to one of the bases. Rondan even had information about where the ship with Mila had jumped. So... only a small matter remains. To visit there and pick up the girl. I hope we'll have someone to pick up...