Summary : If you ever wondered what happens when old radio shows meet Star Wars… check this short story out!

Second Story! YAY!

I was a Jedi for the FBI

I sat in the cold, dark room, my fingers finding new ways to intertwine as I nervously fidgeted with my handmade scarf, one of many idly made while poring over the countless hours of film required for this job. Not that I minded, or did not already know every word of every movie by heart – it was, as I said, required. My eyes wandered the room for the umpteenth time, seeing that nothing had changed in the past thirty or so seconds since I had last looked around. There was a round table at which I was seated, surrounded by regal, straight-backed chairs. A small projector eagerly faced a gigantic screen, with no sign of relinquishing its post. One of the sunglass-wearing, automatic-carrying, armor-clad guards near the door stiffened, and nodded ever so slightly at his partner. Only then did I hear the approaching footsteps.

A tall, lanky man with dark hair, a chiseled face, and an ominous-looking briefcase entered the room, showing not only his admittance pass and driver's license, but undergoing a retina scan and thumbprint comparison to be sure of his identity. This was serious business, and my fingers combed through my long, auburn hair which, coupled with a few deep breaths, put a stop to my skittish digits.

The man stood next to one of the chairs expectantly. With a sigh, I waved my hand, grinning slightly as I noticed the astonished look on his grim face, as the chair slid smoothly backward. It took a lot to surprise the men in this business, but I guess they had never seen a real, honest-to-goodness Jedi before, or the closest thing to it. He sat stiffly in the appointed chair, folding his hands in front of him (a futile attempt to keep them from trembling) and looking me straight in the eye. I did not flinch, nor did I glare back – just evenly returned his gaze.

"I presume you have fulfilled all of the necessary requirements." It was a statement, not a question. I nodded affirmation and continued to return his steely gaze. He went on, his deep baritone voice echoing through the silent room. "You understand, of course, the importance of this mission? If we can understand the Jedi's source of power, and their methods of keeping the peace, then our world will no longer need armies and wars – only a wise Council of powerful Masters to keep the rest of the world in line."

He opened up his briefcase and displayed a large array of weapons: M249, M4, Barret .50 Caliber, M16, and a 16 inch knife. As I scanned the contents, he pulled out a device that looked similar to a watch of sorts. "This," he explained, "is a Cross Universal Handheld Communication Device, also known as a CuCDee. It will allow you to communicate with us here at the base both verbally and nonverbally, in a form similar to that of an electronic letter, or an E-mail. Your mission is to earn their trust and deliver to us their training and fighting methods, profiles, and whether or not it is possible to alter the events that occur in the…footage, shall we say, all without your identity being discovered. There will be no contact with your relatives or acquaintances whatsoever until the assignment is finished and you have been thoroughly debriefed. After your mission is completed, you will remain until we have sent in a replacement. Understood?"

I knew they would never find a replacement for me – that I would be stuck there for the rest of my days. Not that I minded; my parents died at a very young age, and the one thing I took comfort in was escaping into a galaxy far, far away. I had always been a misfit, never understood or truly accepted. I was too smart for my own good, my elders had said. But they did not matter. Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing except the man sitting across the table from me, the small device in his hand, and the lightsaber strapped to my belt. I took the device from the old man and strapped it onto my wrist. He then retrieved another band similar to it.

"This is your transporter. Use it to travel between the two galaxies." As I strapped it on, his voice took on an aura of even greater stern insisting, as though what he was about to say was a matter of life or death, which, in a way, it might be. "Once you have been assigned quarters, conceal these carefully, and only use when you are ABSOLUTELY alone. Otherwise, behave as a normal Jedi might. Make alliances. Gain their trust. You might be there for awhile." He said gravely.

I caught the not-so-subtle hint.

"You are required to check in every standard night on whatever planet you are on, with your condition, location, and an update on the galaxy at large. Any questions?"

I slowly shook my head, ready to proceed to the final stages of this mission. My first, and only, mission as the youngest member of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Although flattered at being chosen, I was secretly wary of what lay ahead. A Jedi does not fear, I reminded myself. A Jedi does NOT fear.

The man nodded and stood, beckoning towards the projector. I stood as well, jabbing with an unseen force at the power button on the machine. I smirked as I saw the man try to hide his annoyed yet impressed expression and instead indicated the image on the screen. Acting upon practiced precision, I activated the transporter device on my right wrist, and began to walk towards the screen. My destiny was charging towards me, and I was meeting it head-on.

A hand on my shoulder halted my trancelike progression. The man, his eyes boring into my soul, extended his other hand to clasp mine in a firm grip. "Goodbye, Jinni Morgan. And, good luck."

I nodded and allowed myself a small smile, the last human interaction I would ever have on Earth. I stepped towards, into, through the projector screen and emerged into the Jedi Council room on Coruscant. With a squeal of glee, I waved my hand, knocking one chair over and levitating another above my head. I never looked back, never saw the portal forever close behind me, never noticed the vanishing CuCDee, or the vaporizing transporter. And the scary part is, I did not care.

My name is Ahsoka Tano, and I am a Jedi for the FBI.

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