Author's Note: What follows isn't really a story, by the traditional definition. There's not much by way of plot or character development. It's really more of a love letter to my Jedi Knight character, whose story has affected me in ways I really didn't expect.
Fiona Carsen had always been an adventurous, curious sort of person. Master Katarn first caught her trying to hack his astromech back on Corellia. So, really, Master Skywalker shouldn't be surprised to find her breaking into his quarters to poke around.
He brought it on himself, really. Earlier that day, Master Skywalker took Fiona and the rest of the Padawans out to a secluded clearing in the jungle. He led them in a recitation of the Jedi Code, something Fiona had a hard time grasping.
"There is no emotion, there is peace," Master Skywalker began. His quiet voice rang clear over the buzzing and creaking of the jungle. "There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force."
When he finished, there was a long, pregnant silence. Even the cicadas piped down for a bit. Fiona looked sideways at the other students, praying that she wasn't the only one completely and utterly lost. But then Master Skywalker gave them a surprisingly boyish smile.
"I bet I can guess what you're thinking," he said, pacing slowly in front of the assembled students. "At first glance it seems like a mess of vague, self-contradictory statements. For example, you may find it hard to believe that there is no ignorance, when you have so much yet to learn. Or you might be perplexed at the idea of serenity, a goal so lofty as to seem attainable only by holy men high up in mountain monasteries." Master Skywalker shrugged. "Or you might simply balk at 'there is no emotion' when you're so frustrated that I dragged you all the way out into the jungle to talk about philosophy."
This sent a few nervous titters throughout the gathered Padawans. Fiona herself couldn't suppress a chuckle. Sometimes she thought that Master Skywalker wouldn't be out of place among the cynical, grizzled spacers back home in Coronet.
"Now, I won't spend hours on end breaking each statement apart into its component atoms. Mostly because it's mosquito season." More chuckles. "However, I ask that you trust me when I say that this simple mantra has guided thousands of Jedi through the trials of their lives. Please, meditate on these statements. Consider their hidden nuances. Study the histories and see how the great Jedi of the past expressed their Code." He bowed and gave them all another smile. "Have a lovely evening."
Fiona had learned long ago to trust her instincts. Master Katarn kept telling her that it was those instincts that made him pick her out of a CorSec lineup and take her to Yavin for Jedi training. Now, Fiona's instincts told her that Master Skywalker was right. As ass-backwards as the Code might seem at first glance, it was important. She just didn't know how or why.
Master Skywalker didn't put stock in a one-size-fits-all approach to training new Jedi. He encouraged teachers and students alike to find their own preferred methods and paces of learning. For some students, that meant hours of meditation in the temple or out in the wilds. For others, that meant exploring the archives and conversing with the temple Masters. For Fiona Carsen, it meant a spot of breaking and entering.
Master Skywalker was either a hobbyist slicer or a paranoid Hutt, because the security on his door was something else. Still, Fiona never met a digital nut she couldn't crack. She almost fried her datapad in the process, but she managed to slide the door open.
It was a quiet, discreet space in the corner of the temple. It contained a bed, a desk and chair, and a rug of Tatooinian design. But Fiona's gaze was drawn to the shelves lining the room. They were filled with small, polyhedral shapes: cubes and pyramids and dodecahedrons. All of them glowed in shades of blue or red, and prickled at the edges of Fiona's Force awareness.
Holocrons. Master Skywalker had shown them a few over the course of their training. A day spent with a holocron was one of Fiona's favorite things in the galaxy. They contained treasures like the saga of Nomi Sunrider, the tragedy of Ulic and Cay Qel-Droma, and more.
Fortunately for her sanity, however, Fiona had been listening when Master Skywalker stressed how dangerous these devices could be. It was easy to get lost in them, and the darker ones could contain hideous, tempting secrets that brought about the fall of even the strongest Jedi.
Fiona closed her eyes, took a deep breath. She found her center the way she always did: humming turbolift music. Master Katarn didn't stop laughing for a full ten minutes after she told him, but he didn't correct her.
After a few moments, her mind settled into a peaceful state, and the whispers at the edge of her mind faded away. When she opened her eyes, only one holocron still called out to her. It was a simple cube, relatively unadorned with carvings or symbolisms. It sat on Master Skywalker's desk, next to a datapad with a still-glowing screen.
Curious, she went over the desk and bent over the datapad. It appeared that Master Skywalker had written a few notes about this holocron:
References to Great Galactic War, Sith Empire...dates to 3800-4000 years ago?
Miraluka Jedi...common back then? Before Imperial pogroms.
"Wow," Fiona breathed aloud. She reached out a careful finger and brushed it over the holocron's polished surface. She'd just touched a four-millennia-old Jedi artifact. If only she could figure out how it -
With a sudden flash, the sparse symbols on the sides of the cube glowed with light, and the top surface folded itself open to reveal a small holoprojector. There was a brief fuzz of static, then one of the most unusual-looking Jedi Fiona had ever seen appeared before it.
He was a slim, yet powerfully-built male humanoid. He wore a bizarre combination of battle armor and Jedi robes, battered and worn, but well cared-for. Scars criss-crossed his otherwise handsome face, relics of a thousand battles. He wore cybernetic blinders over his eyes, an affectation borne of his Miralukan blindness. He spoke in a cool, yet surprisingly casual tone.
"This is the holocron of Jedi Master Ghereth Maddox. What follows is an interactive collection of my thoughts and teachings, assembled over a long and successful career - T7, are you sure about this? This sounds incredibly pretentious -"
Fiona blinked, but there was another flash of static, replaced by Master Ghereth Maddox standing in a neutral pose. The hologram smiled at her. "Greetings, my young friend. Is there something in particular that you'd like to talk about?"
"I...er…" Suddenly flummoxed by how nervous she was, Fiona blurted the first thing that came to mind: "What do you think about the Jedi Code?"
The holographic Jedi Master put his hands on his hips. "The Jedi Code...heh. Well, let's just say I have...strong opinions on the Code. Controversial opinions, some would say. Frankly, I'm a little surprised that your Master is willing to have you discuss the Code with me."
Fiona glanced sideways at the door. Still no sign of Master Skywalker.
"Let me start off by saying that I don't think the Code is completely without merit. I think the Code has some very important things to say about what it means to be a Jedi. However, I feel that it's acquired certain dogmatic qualities that heavily undermine these points. If you don't mind, I'd like to go through the Code line by line, to better organize my thoughts.
"'There is no emotion, there is peace.' Perhaps it's fitting that we begin with the one I've always had the most trouble with. Many Jedi attempt to control or suppress their emotions. I don't think it takes much thought to realize that's a losing proposition. If you attempt to stop yourself from feeling, or deny the legitimacy of your feelings, you'll only get frustrated. Instead I encourage you to absolutely feel what comes naturally, but temper your actions with thought and consideration. When you can safely reconcile your emotions with your actions, then you will truly find the peace described in this line of the Code."
Fiona's eyes widened. Her instincts hadn't failed her. This was definitely important. The Code was a permacrete wall she'd been banging her head against ever since she first heard it. This ancient Jedi might be the thermal detonator she needed to break through. She pulled out the chair at the desk and sat, riveted to Master Ghereth's next words.
The hologram fizzled as it loaded the next data segment. "'There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.' Naturally, these statements should hardly be taken literally. I myself am ignorant of a lot of things. I don't know the capital of Duros. For the life of me, I cannot remember the last place I left my holocommunicator. But I am aware of how little I know, and that is the key to this line, Padawan. Understand that you know nothing, and grow comfortable with it."
For the first time, Fiona felt a flash of irritation. She was always striving to learn, to become better than she was the previous day. Now she was being told that it was all pointless? Maybe this Jedi Master could take a long walk out the airlock.
But then she shook her head. She was being too literal again. It sounded like this had more to do with the hubris of assumption, the complacent comfort of overconfidence. She'd exploited that complacency more than once back on Corellia.
"'There is no passion, there is serenity.'" The holographic Master rocked back and forth on his heels, an anxious pose entirely unbecoming of a Jedi Master. "Forgive me while I gather my thoughts. This...is the line from which the Jedi derive the idea that we should be without attachment, that these passions breed the dark side. To be perfectly frank, I think that's a load of bantha poodoo. Tell me, Padawan, how many puffed-up, above-it-all Masters have you had to contend with in your training?"
Fiona couldn't suppress a snort. "Too many," she muttered.
"These are the Jedi that take this line of the code too literally. I can't fathom a more miserable existence than being alone with your thoughts in such a vibrant galaxy as this. Attachments are not the enemy, young Padawan. Unhealthy attachments are the path to the dark side. Fear. Anger. Hatred. But love? In no universe is love the path to evil. It just doesn't make sense. Obsession, absolutely. Lust, in a sense, if improperly handled. But love, true love, can only bolster your resolve. After all, we Jedi are called to love all life for its own sake. Why would the Code prohibit us from receiving it in return? So I encourage you to find all the love you can, Padawan. A best friend. A loyal droid. Even a lover. Your loved ones can help tether you, prevent you from feeling alone even in the darkest depths of the Shadowlands." Master Ghereth paused, and glanced off-camera. "T7, was that too much? It felt like too much. Can we go again?"
The brief pause between data segments gave Fiona a moment to dab at the corner of her eye with a sleeve of her robe. Must be Yavin jungle pollen, or something.
The image of the Jedi Master reappeared. "'There is no chaos, there is harmony.' I'm sure you find it difficult to find any sort of harmony in this seemingly cruel, random universe. I live in a particularly chaotic time in the galaxy's history. But I promise you, there is harmony to be found in the galaxy. You'll know it when you see it. When you do, it is your duty and your honor to cultivate it, to help it grow." Master Ghereth smiled warmly. "It's always been my favorite part about being a Jedi.
"'There is no death, there is the Force.'" The holographic Jedi sighed, sending a hiss of static through the hologram. "I'm afraid I can't help you with this one, Padawan. I'm still grappling with it myself. I imagine I will be until I meet my own death. I've seen death on a massive scale. Look at this." Master Ghereth reached for his belt, pulling out his lightsaber and turning it on. "The lightsaber. The eons-old traditional weapon of the Jedi. It is designed for one purpose, and one purpose only. To bring death to my enemies. I can truss it up however I like. I can claim that the ends justify the means. But can I take comfort in the fact that all the people I have to kill become one with the Force when they die? I don't know." The hologram put its lightsaber away. "No one would blame you if the thought sickens you a little. It certainly keeps me up at night."
To her own surprise, Fiona found herself grinning at the hologram. So the Masters really were lying through their teeth when they claimed to understand the Code. Even so, she felt closer to understanding than ever. If Master Ghereth was right, it would take the rest of her life to understand completely, and perhaps not even then. It was a strangely comforting thought.
The hologram reset to its default position. "That's the Code as I understand it, Padawan. I won't go so far as to call it wisdom, but this understanding has carried me through a long and chaotic life. If I could give a few parting words: the light side is love. The dark side is hate. We could go deeper, but in the end, that's all there is to it."
Fiona completely lost track of time. She must've spent hours with that holocron, asking Master Ghereth every question she could think of. He made her laugh, moved her to tears, taught her more than she ever expected to learn. She found herself wishing he was there to teach her in person, rather than stretching through the millennia with an ancient holocron.
"How did you become a Jedi?" she asked.
The hologram's expression turned grim. "I remember it as if it were yesterday. But it was actually decades ago. It was a hard time for Miraluka as a species. My parents were so deeply in debt to a Hutt on Nar Shaddaa that his minions came and took me away, selling me into slavery to pay down the interest. I was thirteen."
Fiona gasped, forgetting that the holocron couldn't actually answer in real-time. "But you escaped? What happened?"
"I was purchased by the captain of a pirate crew, as part of a lot of six young male slaves. This crew pillaged Republic and Imperial shipping alike along the border to Hutt space. They put slave collars on us and fed us nothing but stimulants. They used the drugs and the electric shock to prod us into senseless, frothing rage, and unleashed us on their victims. I taught myself to fight, just to stay alive.
"I witnessed an escape attempt from a few older slaves a few weeks after I arrived. Shouting guards and smoking blasters cut down the lucky ones. Soon I was too hungry to be afraid, and too weak to cry. I hardened my heart, knowing that all I could do was just survive. In desperate situations, it's easy to give in to rage. To fall from prayer to profanity. I became much like my slavemasters.
"I don't know how long I was there. But the last ship we ever attacked was a Republic diplomatic vessel bound for Hutta. The captain wanted a nice, juicy ransom, so he sent us in to capture a rich Senator or a diplomat. What we found was a Jedi. A Kel-Dor in simple brown robes. He wielded a fearsome double-bladed lightsaber as an extension of himself, cutting through the rest of the pirates like tissue paper.
"After the melee, the only one left standing was me, brandishing my vibroblade, still twitching with stimulated rage. I threw myself at him, attacking for all I was worth. Somehow I could feel the serenity radiating from his mind, colored only by an emotion of which I had little experience: sympathy. As we fought, I could tell that he deeply cared for me.
"I think that's why he avoided cutting me down where I stood. Instead he merely beat me into unconsciousness to flush the drugs from my system. When I awoke, he pried off my slave collar and told me that he could feel the Force flowing through me in combat, and that if I let him, he'd take me to a new life. He delivered me to Tython to begin my training. I never even knew his name."
Tears swelled in Fiona's eyes once more. She could feel the connection to this centuries-old Jedi swelling in her heart. She took a moment to collect her thoughts. "So...you were a fighter, then? A Jedi who focused on combat?"
The hologram fizzled as it changed sections. "I am a Jedi Guardian. I use my connection to the Force and my martial training to protect those around me. The way the Force expresses itself in combat will vary from student to student, but I can't overstate the value of being able to outlast your opponent. Creating a stalwart, defensive style will give you the time to strike decisively and end the conflict swiftly. If you like, I can demonstrate a technique that will allow you to isolate an enemy and systematically tear down their defenses. I call it the 'Down in Front.'" Master Ghereth paused, a fond smile spreading across his face. "I, er, can't take credit for the name. Kira came up with it. I just think it's funny."
Fiona couldn't help herself. "Who's Kira?" she blurted.
To her dismay, the hologram reset to its default position. "I'm sorry. I'm afraid I don't have anything to say about that. Could we talk about something else?"
Figures. Even four thousand years ago, Jedi Masters didn't want nosy Padawans poking around in their personal business. That thought made Fiona grimace and glance back at the door again.
There stood Master Skywalker, arms crossed, a little smile on his face. Fiona nearly jumped out of her skin. "Muh-muh-master Skywalker!" She stuttered, face turning scarlet. "How...how long have you been standing there?"
"Long enough," he replied, walking over to the desk. "I see you noticed my latest acquisition." He brushed the side of the cube with his finger.
The image of Master Ghereth bowed. "Farewell, my young friend. I hope I helped you with your training." The hologram faded as the projector retracted back into the cube.
"Master, I...I…" Fiona hung her head, every excuse dying on her lips. "I'm sorry. I'll just go."
Master Skywalker chuckled and put a hand on her shoulder. "Don't be sorry, Fiona. I can hardly blame you for being curious. If I could just ask you one question?"
Fiona blinked her red-rimmed eyes in surprise. "I...sure?"
Master Skywalker straightened to look around his quarters. "I have about three dozen holocrons here. The Empire destroyed hundreds of them during the purges, but many survived. I'm sure they all tempted you in their own ways." He gestured at the simple cube sitting on the desk. "Why did you choose this one? Why not one of the Grandmasters or Dark Lords?"
Fiona shrugged. She suddenly felt very, very tired. "I couldn't tell you, Master. I guess this one just...called to me? Your guess is as good as mine."
Master Skywalker nodded. "In my experience, the holocrons have a tendency to choose their students, not vice versa." He guided her toward the door. "Get some rest, Fiona. You've had a long day of training." He smiled again. "Maybe tomorrow you can show me how you sliced open my door."