All those who take the Sword
It is my destiny to take up the burden of being the Sword of the Jedi. It has always been the burden of someone, whether they realize it or not. The knowledge of the Swords before me swirls through my mind and I can hear the murmurs of their voices, whispering to me all the time.
When my Uncle named me the Sword of the Jedi at the Knighting ceremony, it was the Force that made him do that, it wasn't something that he had intended on. The Force works in many mysterious ways. I do not understand some of its reasoning, but it is not necessary for me to, it will be explained when it must.
I had not always thought that way. It took many a whisper from the Swords of old to change my mind to this new way of thinking. Their names linger in my mind, ready to jump from my tongue at a moment's notice. Apparently, the Force makes no distinction between male or female, human or alien, old or young, when choosing the Sword. Sometimes, the burden passes before the death of a Sword and sometimes upon the death.
Mace Windu, Yoda, Astarta Siennt, Jazan Forsen, Kieran Halcyon, Numi Sunrider, Barriss Offee, Gareth Nevado, Etain Ritril; all were Swords before me. All still confer with one another, though they lived years, maybe centuries apart and ago.
They say Uncle Luke was the Sword for awhile, but not a true Sword, merely one who could embody the power till the true Sword, apparently me, could take up the burden.
The Sword must be a leader, a fighter, an inspiration. The Sword must never falter and trust in the Force. The Sword must be the Force's Champion, the one who shall right the wrongs.
I did not ask for this, I did not want this. I still do not want this, but as I have said, it is my destiny and one can only run from destiny for so long before it catches up with you. I could not truthfully say that I want a normal life for I have never been normal, I do not know what it is like to be normal. My Jedi powers and my piloting skills are a part of me, something that helps make me who I am.
They say that in the end, the Sword always stands alone. I do not want to stand alone. They say the Sword has no emotional attachments, but would I be the person I am without my friends and family? Would I even be alive without them? Would I even have a reason for being?
I know from some of the former Swords, Barriss Offee and Mace Windu among others, that love was forbidden in the Old Jedi Order and that love was one of the reasons Anakin Skywalker, my grandfather, turned to the Dark Side and became Darth Vader. But I cannot help myself. I am drawn to him, my true love, like a bee to honey, like a pilot to his X-Wing. I believe the Jedi of old were wrong. Love is a very powerful thing and if it is almost as a part of you, it can aide you, making one stronger than before.
"You must see the shatterpoints in everything before you," Mace Windu tells me, his voice inside my head calm yet one can sense the power behind it for he must've been a formidable Jedi when he was alive. "The shatterpoints are what help you defeat your enemy. If you can see his weakness than you can push at that weakness, shattering his defenses."
"You cannot rely merely on your powers," Kieran Halcyon, an ancestor of Corran Horn, says strongly. "When a Sword becomes too reliant on the Force and it is taken from him or her, than the Sword becomes nothing and fails. Yet if you can use it merely as an aide, not a first resort, than you cannot never truly be defeated until not a breath remains in your body for you shall have other talents at your fingertips."
"Never kill in anger, it leads towards the Dark Side," Astarta Siennt says simply. Even in
death, she is a woman of few words, one of the few thankfully quiet voices in my head. I wish that I had heard her advice earlier, before Hapes. Perhaps I might've been able to stop my brief journey down the Dark Side. No, wait, I take that back. I had heard that before, from Uncle Luke, Aunt Mara, Mom, Jacen, my friends. Hell, even Kyp Durron warned me about the Dark Side and its seductive call.
These are but a few of the voices in my head, constantly advising and passing on their knowledge to me. It has taken several days, but I have managed to stop the voices when I am on a mission, telling them that they could get me killed with their incessant chatter.
It took me a while to accept it at first, I've always had a problem with this whole destiny thing, but now I see that there's no way for me to avoid this. Destiny has been something that has always haunted my family, I suppose that it is pointless to try and run from it. It was my parents' and uncle's generation that defeated the Empire so I suppose that mine must drive back the Yuuzhan Vong and that the Sword shall lead them.
I think best in an X-Wing's cockpit where all I must do is fly and trust the Force and my wingman. But the Sword must be a leader, a thinker, a fighter. The Sword is responsible for her people, the ones who follow her. It is a great burden one that I must and shall bare for the safety of those I shall lead willingly for the galaxy.
I sit atop the rooftops, gazing down at the city below. It is quiet at this time of night, or perhaps it is morning now. I can see only a few people moving about the streets. They look like tiny dolls that a child might play with.
They are the ones that I am sworn to protect, the innocent, the warriors, all who are good. They are the ones whose names I shall never most likely know and they are unknowledgeable about what I or any of the others do.
Soft red lights being to light up the sky as the sun beings to rise for a new day is here. I lift my face up towards the ever lightening sky, letting it become bathed in the red-purple light. Closing my eyes, I reach out into the Force and feel the life around me, the life that is the responsibility of the Sword.
The Yuuzhan Vong seem to not exist in the Force, yet Anakin could sense them. Maybe one day, they will see the truth and stop their slaughtering of our people.
I may not love it, but I have taken up this task and I am now among all those who take the Sword.
-Finite