(Author's Note: Disney and Lucasfilm have lately been playing fast and loose with what is and is not canon. I feel that gives me, a humble fan fic author, some license as well. For me, the MOST canon components of the saga are the three original movies. They are the most mutually consistent of all Star Wars properties and they are my most beloved. Other components of what Disney and Lucas Films consider canon have major continuity errors, specifically the Prequel Trilogy. Of those errors, the most painful for me are those relating to blaster technology and the clone army.
There are consistent indications throughout the Original Trilogy that blaster technology is still something very new in the galaxy. Despite that, the prequel trilogy demonstrates far more advanced blaster tech than what we see in the Original Trilogy, which makes no sense. Why would blaster technology have declined in the period between the prequels and the originals? This is a major continuity error. What would make far more sense and what would be far more mutually consistent would be for blaster technology to be brand new in the Clone Wars, with blasters being able to be fired over greater ranges and to much more deadly effect than previously known primitive weapons but requiring long reloading times and complex, expensive maintenance. One imagines a sci-fi Three Musketeers, Last of the Mohicans or Gettysburg.
Next there is very little reflection on what it means to create a clone army. I suspect Lucas got off on the idea of tweaking the noses of fans who had always assumed that the clones would be the bad guys. I further suspect he didn't spend much time thinking about the fact that using a clone army would be a moral abomination. Creating a Clone Army is tantamount to using child soldiers in a slave army. Those Clones were denied any childhood or freedom. In addition, because of their rapid growth, the Clones would likely experience a host of health issues as they rapidly aged and died. If one described this behavior before any war crimes tribunal, it would be considered a crime against humanity, or as they might say in the Star Wars galaxy, "Crime against all sentient species." One would reasonably expect the guilty parties to face death ala the Nuremberg trials. As one watches the Clone Wars episodes, one sees an almost perfect silhouette of the issue in the form of Clone deserters, traitors and Barriss Offee among other indicators. All things one would expect to see if there was enormous controversy about the idea of using clone soldiers. All while the issue itself never seems to come up, like a sin that dare not speak it's name. This maintains some continuity, yes, the question is never spoken aloud, but it's effect is accurately portrayed. The one error is chips in the head.
The sin of using clone soldiers who have been raised from birth to be perfectly obedient and genetically modified to be more compliant, then sent into combat when likely only about 8-10 years old and having had no opportunity to broaden their experience is karmically repaid in order 66. No chips necessary. Natural consequence of evil, unethical behavior realized.
Let me be clear, I have actually warmed to the idea of the clone army as it makes a lot of sense in the context of the story. It explains why the Jedi Order was so ineffective. As the war dragged on, the Jedi became ever more morally compromised by their complicity in the crime of clone soldiers and they became ever more internally broken and externally reviled. What I am not happy about is that the issue is never stated directly. It should have been the elephant in the room in every moment of the Clone Wars. Further, the idea of chips in the head is absolutely unnecessary and hides the issue, breaking the continuity.
I write my story assuming these things had been done properly. I assume my story will make sense to any Star Wars fan even without this explanation, but I hope this clarifies any questions that will come up later.
Small new note as of 7-22-17, the operators of this site, in their infinite wisdom, have decided to have their system erase the marks, fairly standard in the industry, showing change of perspective. This means I am going back through this entire novel and re-inserting new, less likely to be arbitrarily erased, change of perspective marks and re-publishing, rather than writing and creating new stories.
I will try and use this time for a new level of copy editing as I can never seem to get out every error, but I promise, I'm doing my best.
I dedicate this story my nephews Shmuel and Baruch, the Jedi of a new generation.)
Legend of the Harp
Episode I: Birth of a Jedi
Chapter 1: Hero of Plynth
*** Jedi Knight, Furin Kazan, Jedi Temple, Coruscant ***
I have decided to sit down and briefly write out my memoirs as I sit in my quarters here in the Jedi Temple for what may be the last time and will certainly be the last time for some time.
My recruitment to the Jedi Order was actually done in quite a typical way. I was born on the home world of my civilization, but, as an infant, my parents moved our small family to an agrarian colony world.
Our civilization sits at the far edge of the Galactic Core or the near edge of the mid-rim, depending on how generous one wants to be in description. Yes, I'm going to stop now, mid-memoir, and do something as pedantic as explain basic galactic cartography. In the region most commonly colloquially called the Known Galaxy, the Galactic Core is a region toward the core of the galaxy where many of the oldest, most powerful and wealthiest civilizations reside. They enjoy the benefits to trade of having many potential partners close to hand, with distances between solar systems much closer than they are typically further out, along with a greater density of well mapped hyperspace lanes and established trade protocols. The Mid-Rim is, essentially, a sphere outside this inner core, not quite so well positioned, not so far out. The Outer Rim is the outer edge of civilized known space. That doesn't mean there aren't some well-developed civilizations in the Outer Rim of the galaxy, Kamino, for example, but they tend to be at the end of long journeys, in the middle of nowhere.
Since the Republic represents the core worlds most closely, it's quite shocking that a loose coalition of Outer Rim planets can fight us so well. I'm sure the way the Separatists caught us so completely by surprise had something to do with it.
My own civilization's home world would be just barely within a spatial definition of the Core, if the Core were a perfect sphere, but since it requires a painfully long series of awkward jumps due to the lack of well mapped hyperspace jump routes, she sits more practically in the near mid-rim.
Our civilization was established several hundred years before I was born. We were predominantly human. The original settlers were an offshoot of another civilization, composed mostly of Bio-Genetic engineers who believed that they could perfect the human genome and build better people. The practice of genetic modification of sentient beings had been outlawed in our parent civilization for fear that if unsuccessful, could result in horrifically deformed people who would suffer or if it was successful, could cause unbearable social and racial tensions. Despite these fears, our founders were determined to try, though they mostly proved the process was not terribly practical.
As will be clear when I describe my schooling, despite being a typical product of this effort, I'm hardly a superman. While we don't have wisdom teeth, I have never been able to verify most of the other claims to nebulous advantages. One area we are different is coloring. Most humans in the galaxy fit within a pink to black coloring scheme. Our founders apparently decided we should look like wood. It was supposedly in an effort to make us tougher and more hardy. I've never found myself unusually resistant to puncture or bruising. My father had light tan colored hair and oak colored skin. My mother's skin was the pitch black of teak with a dramatic fall of red hair. Either could have probably passed for mainstream human. I was a mid-way compromise, with skin the color of red mahogany and hair of forest green. My parents would never leave the friendly confines of our home civilization while I, with very distinctively strange coloring, would get to bear the burden for the rest of my life. The Force has quite a sense of humor.
I suspect that the failure to achieve more remarkable results is why our civilization has been able to have a rapprochement with our parent civilization. While my civilization's founders were once hunted as criminals, we now have good diplomatic relations.
When I was born, my civilization was reaching a point that many galactic civilizations reach. The population density on our home world had grown to a level where she could no longer grow a sufficient amount of food to feed herself.
There are a number of solutions for such a problem, reflecting how many galactic civilizations have found themselves in just such a position. First off, the home world can use advanced agricultural techniques to make the most of remaining land, cultivate rooftops and even farm inside disused industrial facilities. While great ingenuity is used, the intense demand for space means the food, no matter how efficiently grown, is expensive and insufficient.
Secondly, there is an active and well developed galactic marketplace where agro worlds sell their surplus to be shipped interstellar distances to willing markets. Such food frequently doesn't match up with the tastes of the market civilization. Further, the hyperspace shipping is expensive, so even if the food is cheaply bought, it is expensive when it reaches it's market destination.
A third solution is for a civilization to establish it's own agricultural colonies. In our case, it was a nice moon in the same solar system, less than thirty hours flight time away from the homeworld. This meant that even though the food would have to be shipped via space freighter, it could be on a dedicated, purpose built, transport with no expensive hyperspace capabilities, greatly reducing cost. The moon was use formed and the crops and food animals that could be produced would reflect the tastes of the parent society.
My parents decided just after I was born to move to this new agro colony. Why? I'm not really sure, but I can speculate. My father was a droid supervisor engineer in a factory. My mother was an instructor in agricultural techniques at a local university. As mid-level professionals they could have expected to have an apartment around three meters by three meters. I would say a cube, but the ceiling would not have been much more than two meters. There would have been a small washroom in one corner, with a cabinet on one side along the wall for storage and food prep facilities on the other wall. There would have been no privacy and the central space would have had to work for all uses. The apartment would have been buried in an apartment block over a kilometer to a side. So likely no windows. If my parents had played their cards right, and possibly overspent, they might have got an apartment with an actual small, sealed window, with a wonderful view of the next block less than a meter away.
On the colony world our family lived alone, but for droids, on a farm that was thousands of acres. My bedroom was larger than that apartment and had huge bay windows that looked over the family garden, the farm and beautiful forested mountains in the distance. I had an outdoor playground to myself and spent many idyllic days running in the nearby woods and splashing in a nearby stream.
My father oversaw the staff of droids who worked the farm. My mother saw to my care, education and did the planning for the farm that my father executed. My mother also tended the garden which provided a steady supply of the freshest fruits and vegetables for our table which she turned into delicious meals.
The closest thing to civilization on the colony was the Port. On the agro colony, the freighter from the home world would come twice per week. We almost always sent in a shipment. The farms were all set in a temperate zone with three hundred and twenty arable days out of the three hundred and thirty-two-day solar year. Those twelve non-arable days were crazy busy, trying to reset the farm for the next year. Normally we didn't bother to meet the freighter. We'd send a droid piloted hover lorry towing shipping containers of food production to be shipped back to the home world. It was a three hour trip each way from our farm to the Port. Once a month or so, we would make the trip as a family.
There wasn't much at the "Port." It was universally called the, "Port," because naming so humble a place seemed pretentious. There were the loading and unloading docks. We shipped much more back than we got, that was the point of the place, but the freighter would bring consumer goods, physical correspondence and most importantly, HoloNet updates. There was a second pad at the Port, but I never saw it used.
Aside from that, there was a small general store, a jala diner, only open on freighter days, a small entertainment center, not much better than one likely had at home, and a small community center with park. People on farms tried to coordinate the once a month day, often trying to have potluck meals and sorting out whatever minor matters of politics and business needed resolving. There was one boy, three years younger than me, that I played with sometimes, though it was more me being kind. There was an older girl who I enjoyed playing with more and, only many years later did I realize, was probably giving me the same kindness.
All told, we lived a lonely life. In that apartment block on the home world I would have had many groups of potential friends. Many schools to choose from. Many available activities. Not to mention, instantaneous connection to a vast global net. It was a tradeoff moving to the agro colony.
The dedicated freighter had room for a small number of passengers. Children leaving for higher education and very occasionally, new families coming to set up farms were the most common passengers. Though the freighter had only a small passenger capacity, it was rarely fully booked and much more likely to be empty. Occasionally, business people would come, careful to get their business done before the freighter left lest they be stuck on the colony for three days. The general store had a rarely used and not very luxurious room for rent.
That was how the Jedi came.
I was seven. There was a gathering party at the port on this particular freighter day. They had a force field bouncy ride which I thought was the best thing ever. The Jedi asked that the children be lined up. Deep respect for the Jedi was normal in our community so we complied. I was second to last. The Jedi knelt in front of each child, one by one, looked us in the eyes and moved on to the next. There was nothing special in my examination. Afterward, he went and spoke to my parents.
The Jedi went back that night on the freighter. That night my mother wept the whole ride home and then into the night. Three days later, my mother put together a small bundle for me and we flew back to the port. On the ride, my father said, "We are very proud of you. You have been selected to go and study at the Jedi Temple. We expect you to study hard and be a credit to our people and our family."
We got to the port only a short time before the freighter was to leave. My mother knelt before me and said, "Never forget that we love you and we do what we do because we feel it is in your best interest."
Then my parents both hugged me tight and kissed me. They saw me aboard the freighter and into a small stateroom. They both hugged and kissed me one more time and then they left.
At that moment, I was very excited. I had no idea that going to the Temple was a one-way trip and would mean I could never go home. I was going to be a Jedi! The Jedi were the heroes of nearly every holovid drama. They were super heroic and super cool and I would be one of them!
I watched holovid for a few hours and then fell asleep on the small hard bunk.
At the port, as I walked off the freighter, Jedi Master Plo Kun welcomed me with a question, "Are you ready for the next step?"
I nodded and he took my hand. He walked me across the port to what I would later learn was a Consular class ship.
We flew directly to Coruscant and landed at the Temple. Master Plo Kun left me there on the dock, the last connection to anything familiar was gone.
I was quickly met by a Counselor, a kind matronly woman named Moragrace well known in the Temple. Counselors are Jedi who are selected to watch over the younglings in the Temple, essentially den mothers and fathers to the children in training. The Counselors are skilled, experienced and have the insight granted by the Force. Mother Mora quickly had me bundled off to receiving where I was permanently relieved of my clothing and possessions from home, washed and given appropriate robes. I was then fed a solid meal of very comforting stew. Afterward, I was taken to my dorm which I would share with three other children, one also newly arrived, Keely, and two a bit more experienced, Posh and Tuck.
I had the normal homesickness, particularly when I started to realize this wasn't a summer camp, I wouldn't be going home or even be able to call my parents. Like other younglings, I had my new family of dorm mates and friends and the Counselors looking after me. I also had the long, exciting, mentally engaging and exhausting days of training. I knew my parents knew where I was. I knew where they were. I knew they wanted me to work hard and succeed, which, to some degree, I did.
In training I was typically somewhere around the fiftieth percentile in physical training disciplines, like saber practice. I was in the eightieth to ninetieth percentile in academic subjects. In time, I passed my Initiate Trial, was promoted to Padawan and assigned to a Master.
The Order tries to match like with like as much as possible for the Master-Padawan relationship. Every species and culture has it's own quirks and having someone who has already achieved status as a Jedi and learned to work with those quirks is useful for a Padawan who is also likely going through that most awkward time of adolescence. Ideally, the Order likes to find a Knight or Master from the same culture and species. If there isn't an exact match, an effort is made to match like with like, for example Master Kit Fisto and his Padawan, Nahdar Vebb. While not stated publicly as policy, there is also, I suspect, a final option of throw all the exotics in a final bucket. Despite being human, a well-represented species in the Order, I was the first representative of my culture. There was a human representative from our parent culture, a Jedi Knight named Bors Siloweez. I expected to be assigned to him. Instead, in another victory for our culture's farsighted founders, I got dumped in the exotic box.
I was assigned to Jedi Master Palatex, a Hydran. Master Palatex was fairly typical of Hydrans. He had a round grey cylinder-shaped body about a meter tall, nearly an exact match for the trash cans found throughout the Temple. I would actually see people throw trash on him from time to time. Master Palatex had three short stubby round legs spread evenly beneath him, three eyes spread equally around his lid-like neck-less head and three arms also equally spread around his torso coming out at the junction of his torso and head. The arms were each unique and of unique lengths. The arms were thin, about the diameter of one of my fingers, made up of bony segments between ten and thirty centimeters long joined by joints that seemed to be randomly distributed. The joints either did not bend much, bent only one way, bent several ways or bent all ways.
I was already a bit shaky with physical disciplines, particularly the saber. I had been hoping to be assigned to a Master who would be a real mentor in that area. There are some non-humanoid shaped and semi-humanoid shaped Masters who are experts with the saber. Master Yoda is a legend with the saber. I, like most young Jedi, devoured holovids of his demonstrations. I was even lucky enough to see Master Yoda in person one time doing an impromptu demonstration in the exercise area. This was not the case with Master Palatex. He did have a light saber and could hold it, but how he was ever able to pass the Test of Combat to be Knighted I will never know.
Master Palatex always spoke through a voder and was difficult to understand. When Moragrace introduced me to Master Palatex, at first he was silent for a long time. I wasn't sure if he was conscious. Eventually, he replied, "In the courtyard, there is a bench."
It wasn't clear to whom he was speaking.
It's amazing how much we depend on subtle gestures which actually cross many species and cultural lines to help us understand something as simple as who someone is talking to.
I eventually figured out how to tell who Master Palatex was speaking to. It had to do with the way he held his arms. Nothing as simple as, say, pointing at who he was talking to, that would be too easy. But in the sway of the way he held his arms one could tell. Mostly.
I could never tell whether Master Palatex thought he was a diplomat for his species in a literal presenting credentials sort of way or in a philosophical way. There were lots of times I didn't think the voder had any idea what he was saying and there were others where it couldn't parse his speech because what he was trying to say reflected concepts so alien, Galactic Standard had no equivalents. Then, once in a while, a pearl would fall out.
One day, I was feeling particularly frustrated that I didn't think I was getting the training I needed as a Padawan. Further, if Master Palatex was perceived as a joke, it would make me into a joke. I really couldn't understand most of what he said and wasn't even certain he knew what was going on around him. Then, as I sat on a step below him in some random hallway, someone threw a piece of trash on him. I was about to pick up the piece of trash and do something unfortunate when out of Master Palatex's voder came, "You must be patient. I know I am not the one who is stupid."
I stopped dead in my tracks. Master Palatex knew exactly what was going on around him. In a moment of blinding insight, somewhat similar to realizing that the girl on the agro colony was doing me a favor, not enjoying playing with me, every weird, disjointed thing Palatex said became clear. Palatex was testing and nudging me to understand more complex concepts. If he just said what he wanted me to know, I probably would have ignored him like a typical human teenager. By making me learn the ideas myself, I was really learning.
There were many things Master Palatex couldn't teach me directly, but he saw to it that I got the training. Master Palatex could barely hold a light saber, but he made sure I got drilled twice a day. He saw that I got tutoring regularly in other subjects as well.
The main thing Master Palatex taught me was how to live and conduct myself. As a wood colored human, I would spend my life in galactic culture dealing with, "What are you?" questions that would often be uttered in less than respectful ways. The reality of life on large crossroads planets like Coruscant is that one may deal with so many different alien species it's hard to keep track. Many people carry small devices to help identify species they aren't familiar with. For me, these devices would sometimes read "Human," but also things that were obviously completely wrong like "Besalisk," or just a simple, "can't identify." Sometimes they would read my personal favorite, "Human in disguise."
Little did I know that my appearance would be just the tip of the freakishness iceberg. Being able to be patient and tolerant and still deal with others with compassion has made all the difference. Those lessons have been far more valuable than mere light saber drills and I owe them all to Master Palatex.
There was one other issue going on in my awkward adolescent Padawan days. There was a girl. Her name was Fion au Paisean. She was very fit, as most Jedi trainees are. She had long red hair and a fair, creamy complexion. Mostly, she was just full of life and passion. She was three years younger than me but was consistently at the head of her form in all areas. I had a terrible crush on her.
Jedi aren't supposed to fall in love. Attachments are deeply discouraged. I had terrible fantasies about taking her back to my home world where we would start a farm and have lots of passionate sex. Yes, my fantasies of her had a lot of sex in them.
Sex is one of those sticky subjects in the Jedi order. In theory, according to the rules and, more importantly, the Path, a Jedi is not supposed to have sex. On the other hand, it's understood that being distracted by excessive desire for sex is not useful. In fact, there are some species represented in the Order for whom having sex is not optional. There is also an understanding that a portion of the Jedi gift is genetic. Strict abstinence would mean far fewer new little Jedi being born. At the same time, Jedi are religious leaders. Jedi are looked up to and have a painfully hard earned good reputation. Many civilizations that comprise the Galactic Republic have very backward ideas about sex. A Jedi being caught having sex in a seamy way would be damaging.
Much more important, Jedi are depended on for our impartiality which makes the far more dangerous issue that sex can lead all too easily to attachment. What starts as a single event can become an arrangement. An arrangement can become something more much too easily. It's one of those easy paths that can start fairly innocently but lead to something else. Then someone has too much influence on a Jedi and bad things can happen.
So being caught having sex in a manner that is illegal or socially frowned upon is very forbidden. Becoming attached is even more forbidden. If one has sex, to reduce distraction, in a manner that doesn't embarrass the Order and doesn't create attachment, still technically forbidden, but likely to be winked at.
I had a small amount of experience. A young cleaning girl with a pleasant appearance asked me one day to show her my quarters. I assumed she wanted to clean them. When we got to my quarters, I had finally earned a small private cell, she closed the doors and put her arms around me and kissed me. I was very surprised. She then began to take off her clothes.
As I stood there shocked, she said, with a bit of confusion in her heavily accented Standard, "Do you wish?"
I wished. I was very curious and, as a healthy adolescent human male, very interested. I quickly took off my clothes and we made use of my cot. It was a bit awkward because of the tight space and my complete lack of useful experience, but very pleasurable for all that. She got dressed and left. I missed evening saber practice.
Still, with Fion, I could probably count the number of words I exchanged on one of my six fingered hands. Every time I saw her it was like my eyes exploded and my brain shut down. As luck would have it, over our time in the Temple, we sparred twice. She won both times, but I'm not sure if that was because she was better, or I was barely functioning each time.
The second time we met, I was a senior Padawan and she was waiting to be assigned. Random chance resulted in us being paired for sparring. The blade of my blue saber and her green touched and touched again. She moved faster, my form was better. It had been a mild annoyance that my saber, once assembled from her hard earned Kyber crystal, had turned out to be blue. It just seemed natural, it should be green. Fion's was very green. The split second of distraction as those thoughts flitted through my mind were all Fion needed to flit through my guard for a third point and victory.
She was very good, skilled, agile, fast. If we had longer, I'm sure my advantage of experience would have been diminished and she would have been the better.
As I came to the end of my time as Padawan, Master Palatex had an amazingly lucid conversation with me about my future in the Order.
Every young person who hoped to be a Jedi, whether they realized it or not, hoped to be in the Diplomatic Corp of the Order. They're the ones traveling to exotic locations, having adventures and doing what people think of Jedi doing. It's not as glamorous as it seems. For every swashbuckling adventure, there are many, many more long, tedious negotiations of obscure rights, details, and endless pages of agreements.
That said, of course, it's still what I wanted.
Master Palatex went on to explain, "With your given virtues and limitations, I would recommend a position in the Order's Logistics and Accounting Division. They have an opening and I understand you would be accepted if you applied."
"It sounds like a very boring career." I complained.
"A Jedi does not crave excitement and adventure." Master Palatex immediately quoted from the Truisms.
The conversation went on some time from there but basically consisted of me whining about giving up my dreams and Master Palatex patiently covering that I wasn't going to be accepted as a Diplomat and would embarrass myself by applying. It wasn't what I wanted to hear, and I was a little sad, but when we were done talking I knew it made sense. The Logistics and Accounting job had to get done and it was important that I make a contribution to the Order. I did have a natural tendency to be orderly and thorough. I was, whatever I wished I was, well suited to the task.
I passed my exams to be Knighted. The Trial by Combat was awkward, but I accounted myself sufficiently well. The Trial of Spirit strangely seemed to test if I would fail if I became lonely. It didn't make much sense. My childhood had prepared me well for isolation. Of those at the Temple, my transition had been unusually graceful. Despite that, the test had me feeling that I was marooned alone on a rocky planet without hope of rescue. I think the test wanted to sense if I would give in to madness. I found the circumstances unpleasant, but I prevailed and passed.
I was Knighted in a ceremony before the High Council along with some of my fellow recent graduates. Just before the ceremony, Tuck came by, he was to be Knighted with me in the same ceremony. Tuck stopped to pass the latest gossip, the true fuel on which the Temple ran, and told me, "Did you hear? Fion has just been assigned to Athacalena as Padawan."
Athacalena was a famous Tymbrimi Jedi Master in the Diplomatic Corp. Her career was the stuff of legend. She had sewn up countless negotiations that had brought the end to, and avoided, endless conflicts. Many of her successes had only been possible because of her incredible brilliance, finesse with the light saber, and, it was rumored, her ability to wrap any male around her little finger. Rumors consistently put her on the short list to be Yoda's successor on the High Council.
It made sense, Fion was the sort of really top-notch candidate who went into Diplomacy. She would be paired with the best possible mentor. There was a moment of ugly envy. The girl of my dreams was getting the career of my dreams and I was going to get to add up a lot of ledgers. I overcame my smallness quickly, wished Fion the best in my heart and was Knighted.
With bluff good hope, I went and began my duties as the newest Jedi Knight in the Logistics and Accounting Division. I learned where my workstation was, where to find the nearest lavatory and which machine gave the best caf. I also learned where they kept the money, though I certainly had no access. I sat. I did ledgers. I filled out reports. I did the lowest scut work so I would learn the job. I learned the ins and outs of finance. Someday, if I survived long enough, I might rise to head of department and be promoted to Master. In the meantime, I would contribute and complete important duties that would allow the Order to function.
That lasted nine months. Then there was the Battle of Geonosis, the Clone Wars were upon us and everything changed.
I was NOT one of the Jedi at Geonosis. When Master Windu pulled together all the Jedi Knights he could to go to Geonosis, that did not include lowly members of L and A.
With the casualties sustained at Geonosis, standards dropped and all the Jedi Knights that could be wrung from any corner of the Order that might be able to serve were brought together. That did include me.
The fifty or so of us were assembled in the Private Sanctuary and addressed by Master Windu;
"We are now at war. The Republic needs a swift end to this conflict. The Republic has succeeded in procuring an army and will be making all efforts to increase and improve this force going forward. I know the use of a clone army is controversial, but practical considerations require us to make this compromise and acquiesce. The more swiftly this conflict is ended, the faster this choice may be reversed.
We will be placing Jedi adviser leaders with as many clone units as possible. You will thus be able to use your gift in the most efficient and effective way possible. As is always the case, there is greater need for Jedi than there are Jedi available.
Master Mundi and I will be putting you through a twelve-week course. In the morning and evening, training will be with sabers with an emphasis on real combat representing what we have already learned on Geonosis. The middle of the day will be spent with military advisers learning the basic skills necessary to interoperate with the military including basic leadership and tactics. We would love to take a year or more to do this training and then assign you to experienced Jedi who have mastered the task. That is not possible, there is neither the time nor are there experienced Jedi commanders. As usual, we will expect the impossible from you."
Master Windu was as good as his word. Training began, and it was a whole new world. I was excited that I wouldn't be relegated to Accounting for my whole career. I would probably go back to Accounting when this was all over in a few months, but at least I'd have a few stories to tell. I was scared that I was going into combat, many Jedi had died on Geonosis. Our Jedi robes and sabers were clearly NOT perfect armor. The saber training wasn't the artistic, athletic exercise it had been up till now. It was about real combat and survival. The middle of the day was used to learn the structure of the military, how to operate different pieces of equipment, combat strategy and tactics, both personal and unit. It was intense, like nothing I had experienced up to that point in my life.
One of the main changes in combat we all became aware of was the blasters. There had been a few blaster weapons around in the past, but they had been painfully slow firing, unreliable and expensive. Clearly, they had become far faster, reliable and common. Left unspoken was the question of whether Jedi and light sabers would still have meaning on this modern battlefield?
I would also say that while all this was going on, the Temple was abuzz. The use of a clone army wasn't just controversial, it was an abomination, a crime against all sentient beings. Before the Battle of Geonosis, finding out a regime was using a clone army in a conflict would have instantly meant regime change would have been required and those responsible held accountable for their crimes, with the Jedi Order leading the way! I felt I understood the underlying reasons why it was necessary, but I was appalled, and I was probably one of those most supportive. There were many Jedi who were calling publicly to sue for peace, immediate disbanding of the clone army, sanctions placed on Kamino and only resuming conflict if a better option could be found.
Then the Melchor Incident occurred.
While we were training our hearts out. Other senior Jedi were fanning out across the galaxy. Over a thousand systems had gone over to the Separatists. A huge number more were wavering. The Council of Neutral Systems had over fifteen-hundred worlds in it. A massive diplomatic campaign was called for and begun. Some of these missions became the stuff of legends. Yoda's embassy to Toydaria where he faced down an entire column of Separatist war machines with a handful of clone troopers and kept Toydaria in the fold was a fantastic success. Athacalena's embassy to Melchor did not go as well.
While negotiating and wooing the Melchorians to stay in the Republic, a Separatist army under the leadership of a "General Grievous" overran and occupied the planet. Athacalena and Fion were captured.
Then, in a broadcast to the entire galaxy, Grievous made a speech with Athacalena and Fion bound kneeling next to him,
"Some of you still think the Republic and the Jedi can protect you. There is nothing that could be more wrong. The Jedi have grown weak and corrupt. Only the Confederacy of Independent Systems can protect you now as you shall SEE!"
Then Grievous used their own light sabers to behead Athacalena and Fion.
That changed things in the Order and in me. Many in the Order who had been wavering or debating stopped. This had been a direct attack on the Order and the murder of two of her most beloved members. Geonosis had been bad, but it had been a fight. In fact, a fight the Order had initiated. This was murder. This was a direct attack on the idea of the Order and everything it stood for. The courage of most was screwed to the sticking point. Including mine. I hated the Separatists now in a way that probably wasn't right for a Jedi. I wanted to kill this Grievous myself. I had fantasies of cutting him to pieces with my light saber. Any concerns I had about going to war with a clone army were gone. Maybe not my first choice, but if clones were what we had, then with clones I would go.
I, like many of my fellow Knights-in-training, redoubled my efforts. This war was serious now in a whole new way. Despite that, the weakness in my saber skills remained clear. I had a particular weakness going to right lower quarter guard. Time and again I would get tagged there. About six weeks in, I was sparring in evening practice with Master Mundi. I was slow again to right lower quarter guard and he tagged my hip with a live saber. I went down like a pole axed bukar steer. It hurt! BAD! Nothing had ever given me that viscerally intense feeling of pain. The med techs raced over to attend me. I was red hot angry. How dare he injure me! As the med techs worked, I looked up at Master Mundi about to yell all sorts of unfortunate things and I saw his face. That stopped me cold. He didn't need to say a word, but his message could not have been more clear, "You'll learn to go to right lower quarter guard now, won't you?"
That action, more than anything up to that point told me, I was going to war. This wasn't about play, or posture or prestige. There would be no safety net.
I was taken to the clinic. The wound was sprayed and bandaged. It had been the lightest of touches, masterful really. Still, despite the anesthetic, it hurt. The wound would hurt for many days, but the next day I was much faster getting to right lower quarter guard.
Training came to an end. I won't say I was a saber genius of the Jedi Order, but I felt my ability to apply those skills in the real world had been greatly enhanced.
There had been talk of assigning me to the rapidly building space fleet, but the demand for ground troop advisers was simply too intense.
I packed a few simple things in a linen satchel. I had a pair of stout boots I'd been working in. Several extra pairs of socks. A variety of military gear was made available to us. I took lower leg protectors and gauntlets as they had been recommended. I also took a chest piece and a helmet that didn't cover my face. I would forgo the upper arm and leg armor as I felt, like most Jedi, they would interfere with my movements with saber.
I met with Master Mundi who gave me my orders, "You will be rendezvousing with the 322nd Battalion on Plynth. There are already two other Jedi-led battalions there. They will brief you when you get there as to your objectives."
I took a small courier vessel and a pilot droid. I practiced a bit of flying but left most of the tedious work to the droid. It was a modestly uncomfortable twenty-two-hour flight confined to the pilot's seat, I was glad to have brought the droid because at least I got some sleep. I landed on a Republic command ship in orbit and made brief pleasantries with the Commander of the fleet, a non-clone human named Captain Fullbright, and was sent down to my command on a dropship with some additional supplies.
Captain Fullbright informed me during a brief conversation over a meal, "For now, we have full control of the space around Plynth. That could change at any time should the Separatists decide to contest the system. Should that happen, we would have to break orbit or risk being in an inferior position. Hopefully, we would be able to beat back the attack and continue to provide orbital coverage. We should be able to give you a smooth ride down to your men on the surface in a dropship with some supplies."
I had time to freshen up a bit before the dropship left the Command Ship and sped me on my way.
I landed on the temperate earth of Plynth. It was a bit dusty and the local flora was completely unfamiliar. I was met by a clone Captain.
The Captain efficiently ordered his men, "Get the dropship empty, that might be your dinner on there or the ammo that saves your lazy lives!"
The men snapped to fast and efficiently and started moving the cargo.
I walked over to the Captain and extended my hand, "I'm Furin Kazan. I'm here to help."
Rather than take my hand, the Captain snapped a salute, "Captain DS-2738 at your service. Sir!"
I pulled my hand back and returned his salute.
That first hello pretty much defined our relationship. No matter how hard I tried, I could never seem to get him to warm up.
We took some small military hover lorries to our Battalion's position. As soon as the supplies were stowed, Captain DS ordered, "Inspection! Drop your rocks grab your socks! Move it!"
The battalion was formed up and ready for review in a surprisingly short time. I politely saluted. I was no expert, the men and equipment were a bit dirty, but seemed to be in good shape. I took a few rifles from random men, broke open their rear breach and checked to see if they were clean and serviceable. They were. The breech loading rifles were a new innovation, faster and more accurate, particularly as they were held by clones, than the shorter barreled, smooth bore muzzle loaders still used by the Separatists. I would need to make sure I made full use of that advantage.
I addressed them, "I look forward to being of help and I promise to treat every one of your lives as being as precious as my own."
I didn't expect cheering, but the response was pretty non-existent.
The Captain showed me to my command car. It was a small, lightly armored hover lorry with a basic cot, small situation table and communications facilities.
"Perhaps you would like to contact your fellow Jedi?" The Captain asked.
"Thank-you." I answered as I went inside and closed the door.
I stowed my few bits under the cot and started working the commo gear.
I had quickly raised one of my fellow Jedi.
"Hi, I'm Buri Yone," he answered when he came online, "We don't have a formal command structure, but I am the most senior present. If you need any help, just let me know. One moment and I'll see if I can raise Par Gyn."
Buri then worked his commo for a few moments and we had a three-way conference. Buri did most of the talking.
"As you can see Par is pretty much engaged here," Buri said as he pointed to a map, "and I'm engaged here. If you can march your force to here," Buri continued gesturing on the map, "and take this position, it should be enough to break their resistance. They call it 'The Presidio,' It's a major command and control center, re-supply point and communication relay. It's also the Palace and governing center of the planetary leader. He was nominally democratically elected but not really. He supported the Republic as long as we had him. As soon as the Separatists got him, he's been all for the Separatists. If you can get him back, my insight says his support will switch again. That might make clean up simpler. But what's important is liberating that Presidio as fast as possible. You got anything Par?"
Par replied, "No that sounds about right. Just get in that Presidio ASAP."
"Ok, we'll move out as soon as we can muster." I answered.
We talked for a bit after that. I told them about my first meeting with the Captain.
"Yeah, sometimes it takes a bit for these clones to warm up. Suggest he might want to pick a name for himself. That might break the ice." Buri advised.
When we were done, I leaned out the door and saw a trooper standing guard.
"Summon the Captain please." I asked.
"He's at mess sir." The trooper replied.
Apparently, I had missed dinner, and no one had been kind enough to mention it. I hardly live on my stomach, but I'd already missed some meals and it was the last solid meal we were to get for some time.
When the Captain came back, I felt after a bit longer than it should have taken, I invited him into the truck. I went over our objectives with him and then said, "What do you suggest?"
"The troopers can be ready to move out very soon if you need them." He replied.
"Yes, that's good. But do you have any suggestions for how we should approach?" I asked again.
"Each trooper will give his all sir." He replied.
It went on like this for some time.
I finally suggested, "We'll move each of the three infantry companies in a row. Then we'll have the armor and artillery follow up as a ready reaction force."
"Yes sir." He replied.
"How fast can we get moving?" I asked.
"Well, we could get moving now, but it's evening. The men mostly have had no sleep. I recommend we wait till morning." The Captain answered.
I hated the idea of waiting a minute when my fellow Jedi had asked for speed. At the same time, I had finally wheedled an actual suggestion out of the Captain. I knew it could badly damage any subsequent working relationship if when he finally worked himself up to say something, I just overruled him. Further, we'd be advancing in the dark which was not to our advantage and pushing the men to exhaustion would be bad for morale, up casualties and wouldn't necessarily speed things up.
So, I said, "Give orders for every man to be ready to move out at first light. Also, I expect for the next few days we'll be eating rations on the move. If there's a formal mess, please make sure I'm notified."
"Yes sir." He replied.
"Also, please consider taking up a nickname. I think it would help us communicate."
"Yes sir, pick whatever you like sir." He replied.
"I'd really rather you picked your name yourself. Perhaps you'll give me what you come up with tomorrow?"
"If you'd like sir." He replied.
With that I sent him on his way.
I knew it would be less than five hours before dawn, so I took that moment to get some sleep.
The next morning, I woke well in time to be ready to march and put on my full battle regalia. I emerged from the car to find my infantry companies packed and ready to go, in their armor. They'd eaten rations because the kitchen had been packed for the march. It took some time, but I found the Captain and asked, "Are we ready to move out?"
"Well about that Sir…" he began. Apparently, the tanks and the artillery weren't ready to move out. I would never be certain if there was some genuine misunderstanding, if there had been some real technical issue or if the Captain was trying to undermine me. The upshot was we weren't ready to move out till three hours after sunup while the infantry sat in their armor waiting, not having had a good breakfast, my fellow Jedi and their troops took casualties and we were definitely not winning the war.
When we finally did move out, things went well for about two hours. I marched at the head of the column and we moved along at a good orderly speed. Then we encountered the enemy.
Standing on a low ridge, there were about two hundred droids and about a hundred planetary militia. The droids were basic Separatist infantry. The militia was poorly uniformed scrabble. The militia were all lightly armed, no heavy blasters, launchers or support equipment. A few had decent rifles, but most seemed to be armed with antiquated gear, some with pistols and some seemed armed with farm implements. I did not look forward to wading into them. I decided there I would focus on the droids. I then justified my decision to myself by saying the droids were more dangerous and I didn't want to wipe out the militia if it wasn't necessary. Overall, I knew my force had a substantial advantage and should win if we came to blows. However, there were enough of them to hurt us badly if we took them lightly.
I quickly summoned the Captain who reviewed the situation with his binoculars. Then we discussed the terrain and situation on the maps in our holo-tablets.
"Do you have an opinion on how we should proceed?" I asked.
Once again, I got, "Every man will give his best!"
Losing patience, I just started with, "Please relay my orders," and started giving directions to maneuver the companies for battle.
The enemy was, more or less, directly before us. So, Company Two of infantry which sat in the middle of our line would stay steady, while Company One on the left and Company Three on the right would start to maneuver to flank. This would give us good position as well as eyes behind the enemy in case they were planning any surprises behind that ridge. At the same time the armor and the artillery would move forward to support. When we had everything in position, Company One and Three would attack under cover from artillery and tank fire.
It took a while for everything to start moving and when it did, it seemed, for a moment, things were going well. We got almost to the point where the attack would be launched, and then the enemy simply withdrew. They just turned and marched back a click and a half to the next ridge.
I immediately gave orders to start moving, but we had nothing with the speed to pursue. The Republic's six legged tanks were notoriously slow. I had Company Two move forward to occupy the first ridge. Company Two had to move slowly, there might be booby traps. I ordered everything else into pursuit.
We were in position to attack the enemy's second position around sundown. Then the Separatists just marched off again. This time they went behind the ridge, so we didn't have clear targets for artillery.
The men were exhausted, and I wasn't far behind. We'd advanced less than ten clicks, but I'd probably covered over thirty running back and forth between various companies. We camped and set up a schedule for the infantry companies to do guard duty.
"Make sure those tanks and artillery are ready to move at sun up." I said briefly to the Captain.
I had Third Company move to the middle of the line and put Second Company on the right flank. I planned to take Third Company out before dawn, I wanted to be at the base of that ridge by sun-up.
Dawn found me with Third company at the base of the ridge. We were moving better as a unit. The Captain reported he had the tanks and artillery moving and the other infantry companies were moving up into flanking positions while I led Third Company to the top of the ridge. There were a handful of primitive booby traps, but we found them quickly without incident.
As we crested the ridge we spotted the Separatists another ridge ahead. The march began again.
Clearly the Separatists were engaged in delaying. I kept pushing, only to have them walk away. Day after day I marched the Clones and myself to exhaustion, never able to come to grips with the enemy. Despite this, our advance was painfully slow.
It was nine days of constant prodding by my fellow Jedi, pushing hard from before dawn till after dark. We finally reached the Presidio on the tenth day. We stormed the Presidio to find no one and not much home. Clearly, it had been evacuated at leisure.
On the eleventh day the Separatist fleet arrived and the Republic fleet, configured for ground invasion support, not space combat, had to break orbit.
We held the Presidio and had scouting teams out looking for the enemy which we never found.
Later I would learn that Captain Fullbright's rapid break of orbit allowed him to gain strong positional advantage which he then used to drive back down into orbit giving better than he got and executing a fast evacuation of Plynth. We had to destroy our own heavy equipment as we didn't have time and lift capacity to bring it, which was humiliating.
I was formally reprimanded. My failure to take the Presidio in a timely fashion had led to defeat. I learned later that I was being called "The Hero of Plynth," behind my back. Part of my penance was that I was required to study all the action on Plynth, so I could understand my error as clearly as possible and prepare a written report.
I took ten days to write the report. I examined all my errors as clearly and openly as possible. I examined the actions of my fellow Jedi and their troops, seeing how my delay cost them more casualties. How the delay allowed the Separatists to reinforce and defeat us. Essentially, a more reckless course might have cost me some casualties, but it would have saved many more clone lives elsewhere and perhaps achieved victory. It was not an easy or comfortable ten days, but I did it.
My report was accepted, and I was left to wait. I focused on saber practice and physical drills, driving myself to exhaustion just so I could sleep each night. I also picked up a new pair of boots. The pair I had taken to Plynth had worn out there.
After several weeks of being ignored during which I wondered if I would be drummed out of the Order, I got a memo which asked that I report to a new department. This was something, the Order hadn't had a new department in centuries.
I reported at the appointed time. I presented myself and knocked at the door. The door opened, and a low authoritative voice said, "Enter."
I entered to find a surprisingly cluttered office by Jedi standards. Master Arunx waived me to a chair with a hoofy hand. I sat.
Intelligence was run by a Gnume Jedi Knight named Arunx. As was protocol, a fellow Knight like myself would refer to him as "Master Arunx." He was very large, probably at the high end of galactic average.
Yes, time for a bit more pedantry. I don't know if humans are the most populous and common of all sentient species in the galaxy, but we're probably close. Further, many other species from Rhodians to Twi'leks also tend to be about the same size and shape. This means a remarkable amount of galactic infrastructure is designed for that size person. If one is smaller, generally there may be annoyances, but one can find methods of accommodation, but if one is larger, especially if one is much larger, it can be quite a burden. This is no doubt made worse by the fact that in many circumstances every cubic centimeter is expensive, encouraging designers and builders to skimp as much as possible.
I haven't met many Gnumes over the years and I wouldn't be surprised if it was because they tend to be big and wide, weighing in above a thousand kilos. Luckily, while they are pentapeds, like humans and many others, their natural stance is leaned forward which probably also helps. They walk on their shorter hind legs and their long forearms hang before them. The females are about half the size and would probably have an easier time, but I've never met one off their home world. The Gnumes seemed to have evolved from some sort of hooved ungulate. Still Master Arunx probably dealt with many issues of narrow walkways and doors and was glad to have horns that protected his head from low ceilings.
"You're probably wondering what you're doing here." He said.
"Well the question had crossed my mind." I replied.
"They don't want to send you out to command again, not much for second chances the Master's Council. Logistics and Accounting doesn't really want you back either. Might damage their prestige to have the 'Hero of Plynth' working in their department. Bad enough they're not diplomats or war heroes, don't want to be seen as a parking place for failures and incompetents. So that leaves the question of what to do with you. Might be easy for everyone to just ignore you until you disappeared." Master Arunx began.
I had to admit, as I awaited reassignment, the thought had crossed my mind that I was completely unwanted, an automatic embarrassment to any area that might have me. I noticed that Master Arunx had stopped and was awaiting my reply.
"I imagined something like that, but I've never heard of 'Intelligence.' What is it?" I asked.
"Many of your instructors would agree." Master Arunx replied and then laughed a deep snorting, bleating Gnumish laugh.
I guess I had set myself up for that one.
When he finished laughing, Master Arunx explained, "To win a war, and I suspect for many other endeavors, it's not enough to be stronger and faster, one must be smarter, better informed."
Then Master Arunx leaned back in his chair and looked at me thoughtfully before saying, "The next part I must have your word of honor as a Jedi that you will not pass along."
That was a substantial request. As Jedi, we were supposed to be reliable and discreet, but this was another level.
"I will give my word, but I must hold some level of judgment back, certainly, if you are available to discuss or your designated successor I would not pass it along without permission." I replied.
"That seems reasonable." Master Arunx answered.
There were a number of instances in the Jedi Chronicles we had studied as younglings where secrets were lost to the Jedi Order because words of honor were given and then the secret died with the Jedi in question leading to defeats and privation for the Order. We would both be aware of such episodes and my caveats were based clearly on avoiding such tragedies.
"In the past, if the Order needed to know something, a Master could meditate for a bit and the Force would give him a vision of the truth. Now, it is like a cloud has descended. Our vision has been limited. If it became known outside the Order that we faced this limitation, it would bring all sorts of nasty types out of the woodwork and likely many Jedi would die. Still we have a war to fight, so we must use more mundane methods to be aware of events around us so that we may take the best actions. Hence an Intelligence Department. Be warned, we are held in low esteem. The general opinion is that we are redundant because most don't know of the cloud. Even among those who do, it's expected the cloud will lift eventually and we will then be disbanded. I am Head of Department and I have not been elevated to Master. This is a dead end to your career as a Jedi. Those I request to join tend to be held in very low regard and even among those, many refuse." Master Arunx explained.
Generally, being Head of Department meant elevation to the rank of Master and a seat on the Council, it was a huge sign of contempt for those honors to be withheld.
"Is that why I am being asked? I am held in low regard and you feel I have no other options?" I asked, thinking that I did, in fact, have no other options.
"No. You are held in disdain by most of the Order and you don't have any other options, true, but I don't ask all who fit that description." Master Arunx answered.
"Then to what do I owe the honor of this offer?" I asked.
"Be assured that there are others in low regard that have not received this offer despite our desperate need for any warm body. This department needs only those who will do this job well. I read your report on the Battle of Plynth. It was well written. You didn't spare yourself in any way, but you also didn't spare anyone else's feelings either. Most importantly, it was brutally accurate. I believe you have what it takes to be an effective analyst and we need all the good people we can get." Master Arunx answered.
The answer was actually something of a surprise. It was not direct, but it was a compliment of sorts and a unique vote of confidence that I could come back and still be useful. It wasn't a hard choice, even if I would continue to be held in low regard, at least I would be tolerated, at least so long as the department was. That was much preferable to being drummed out of the Order in shame. More important, I actually believed in the Order and it was very important to me to find a way to serve and this was just such an opportunity.
"Then I accept you're offer." I answered.
I got a small cubicle, slightly less nice than Master Arunx's and far more basic than the cubical I had at Logistics and Accounting. I suppose some reading this might think I was about to be sent off on exciting missions of espionage. I would infiltrate enemy strongholds, seduce beautiful women, engage in fierce duels with horrific enemy champions. That's not intelligence work and when called for, it's handled by the Diplomatic Corps. No, Intelligence is collecting up the mountains of data that have been acquired by such missions or overheard by listening posts or just published in public news journals and trying to convert it into useful information.
I went to work educating myself on the issues at hand, trying to find useful sources and make heads or tails of the endless files we had available. After a week of thrashing, hopelessly drowning in data, Master Arunx called me back to his office.
"How's it going?" He asked.
"Not so well." I answered.
"What's the biggest problem you're facing?" He asked.
"There is simply endless data. More than I can possibly hope to even scan, much less study carefully. You could have a dozen of me and we still wouldn't make a scratch." I answered a bit frustrated and overwhelmed.
"You're running into two of the most basic problems of being a Jedi." Master Arunx replied.
Then Master Arunx leaned back, took a sip of jala, looked me in the eye and continued, "There will never be enough Jedi to do what needs to be done. We have to get it done anyway. All sentient life could literally depend on it. Let me ask you a question, why do you suppose the Order teaches each Jedi to use a light saber?"
I was quite depressed by Master Arunx's statement and completely taken aback by his question. Why does the order teach every Jedi to use a light saber? Why do spaceships fly? Why is the sky up? It was so basic that it made no sense.
"Tradition I assume? For self-defense?" I replied still not sure what Master Arunx was getting at.
"Think about it." Master Arunx began, "I mean, of course those nice folks in Diplomacy probably need it and the Temple Guard, but most, like you, not exactly meant for saber excellence. Not likely to need to fight off determined Sith in Logistics and Accounting and we should know. We should know which younglings will end up where, we have the best aptitude systems and our fabled Jedi insight. If you're supposed to be an accountant, why waste all those hours on saber practice and not teach you more accounting things?"
It was a very unpleasant question and my immediate impulse was to snap something back at him for underestimating what I might be. Then I pulled myself back together and thought for a moment. It was basically true and something that had been bothering me for a long time. I came to the Temple to be a Jedi, not an accountant. When my dream of being in the Diplomatic Corp came to an end, I could at least cling to the last shreds of my tattered dignity that I was a Jedi Knight, a Force user, able to wield a light saber. Saying I didn't need to know how to wield a saber was saying I didn't really need to be a Jedi. Perhaps the Order would have been better off if they had just sent me off to a School of Finance, there were several of very high regard right here on Coruscant, rather than wasting the valuable time of Saber instructors.
It mixed with the deep distress I felt at being held in low regard. I wanted the esteem of my fellow Jedi to a level that was not quite in the Code. Was I nothing but an accountant, a factotum? Was I not really a Jedi? The fact that my self-esteem had just been kicked in the teeth didn't help. I had just been given the perfect opportunity to demonstrate that I could be a man of action, as many other Jedi were doing successfully, and I had failed miserably, and the Order does not suffer failure easily. It could be the last unwritten part of the Code, "Jedi don't fail."
Master Arunx's comment seemed to imply I wasn't a Jedi and went straight through to the heart of my insecurities. Which was why I was so ready to snap. Then I realized, if there was anyone in the Temple who held me in any regard, it was Master Arunx. So, he probably wasn't trying to insult me. Which left the question unanswered.
Finally, I replied, "I suppose it's true, if the Order knows that I and others like me will end up in jobs like Logistics and Accounting, why do they waste time on teaching me to use the light saber?"
"Ah good question." Master Arunx said, then shifted a bit to get comfortable in his chair which was clearly not designed with Gnumes in mind.
"We teach you to use the saber to teach you to use the Force." Master Arunx answered and then continued, "You could teach anyone off the street to be a fair hand with a saber if you gave them six hours a day of instruction by the finest masters in the galaxy. They still shouldn't be able to hold their own against a Padawan because the Padawan can use the Force and all the advantages that gives. You need to learn to apply the Force to whatever you do. If you're adding ledgers, then the Force will tell you where the numbers aren't right. If you're leading troops, then the Force might tell you when, after the second or third day, you should march one of your companies overnight around behind the enemy to cut off their retreat. If you're analyzing a mountain of data, the Force can tell you what speck is the key bit that will help bring victory. Get to that pile and find the key bits, don't be afraid if your gut tells you the rest is dross."
"Thank-you. I'll try that." I answered feeling he had answered more than one question for me.
I returned to my cubicle and began to dig, looking with the Force for the bits that would be most important.
I did find a handful of useful bits by the end of the day and, with a sense of some satisfaction, compiled the best bits in a report and sent them up to Master Arunx.
As the days went by in Intelligence, I educated myself in the issues of the war. What was important and what was minor. I got better at finding key bits in the pile and, understanding what they meant, forwarding them to Master Arunx and whichever Republic and Jedi leaders needed them. Ambushes were avoided, enemy weak spots and hidden assets were revealed. I might not be leading clone legions to victory, but I was helping and saving lives.
As the months went by, I slowly assembled a staff of droids who helped me work the pile. I wouldn't say I set down any responsibilities, but I picked up two areas of specialization. The first was enemy ship movements. We got tens of thousands of reports of sightings of enemy ships. Every after-action report had listings of types and numbers of enemy ships. There was a dedicated cadre of small traders and scouts that would give us times and locations where Separatist ships had been seen. Then there were just endless other sources where we would get information. We slowly but steadily built up a four-dimensional model of the Separatist fleet. That allowed us to give various fleet commanders remarkably accurate forecasts of what they could expect as well as how many and what type of ships the Separatists might be able muster at a given moment in a given area of space.
As part of this specialty, I started to have to go and meet with colleagues in Republic Fleet Intelligence as they held meetings in different parts of the galaxy. It took me a bit, but I found that wearing a Republic Fleet Intelligence Officer's uniform, with the Jedi insignia on my left shoulder of course, helped me fit in very productively. During the day we would have long intense meetings where we would brief each other on new bits of information, new Separatist ship types, new enemy tactics, new detected bases, etc. The model was great at finding new ports and supply dumps. After the day's work there was always a formal, but quite collegial dinner. The food was good, the company and anecdotes amusing. Then after dinner, we would retire to some sort of comfortable lounge area for informal conferencing. The Fleet Intelligence lads always knew how to get the best brandy and spice sticks. Some of the most valuable ideas came after a brandy or two had loosened tongues and the spice stick smoke had grown thick.
There was also a female Fleet Intelligence officer, Arihnda Pryce. Most of the Fleet was male and human, but occasional women would be found here and there. Commander Pryce was an intelligent and ambitious officer and had normal human needs. Unfortunately for those needs, she spent most of her life on ships in the fleet. She was very fit and attractive. If she chose another male Fleet officer to help her satisfy those very natural needs, it could cause problems. I, on the other hand, was not in her chain of command and never would be. That made me very convenient. We discreetly made mutual use of each other's presence on most visits.
In all, they were productive and useful visits.
The second area that I began to specialize in was financial matters. Perhaps it was my time in Logistics and Accounting, perhaps it was an insight from the Force, but it became clear that every ship, base, weapon, even soldiers, particularly in a war being fought between clones and droids, could have a Credit price placed on them. Battles could be seen as large piles of Credits slamming into one another. Just as a four-dimensional map of enemy ships could tell us all sorts of things about the Separatist Fleet, keeping track of where the money went could tell us all sorts of things about Separatist intentions.
Financial intelligence was even more important because at the center of Galactic trade were a number of huge trade edifices, namely the Trade Federation, the Banking Clans, the Techno Union, the Commerce Guilds and the Corporate Alliance. All had been implicated to some degree in support of the Separatists. All of the organizations claimed to be financially neutral, like the Banking Clans or split like the Trade Federation.
Some, like me, who had very little sympathy for neutral systems and the supposed neutrality of what I called, "the Big Five," were very suspicious. We suspected the Big Five were, in fact, truly loyal to the Separatists and just making a show of loyalty to the Republic for convenience. In turn, when we didn't think Republic officials were hopelessly naïve fools, we expected that they accepted the lie of loyalty because it was convenient to do so. Push too hard on any, or all, of the Big Five, and one might just push them fully into the Separatist Alliance. Every day wasn't a banner list of Republic victories. There were many moments when it seemed like the Republic might lose, or, at the very least, be forced to accept a permanent Separatist Alliance. Having the Banking Clan decide they didn't want to support the Republic Credit anymore might be a blow too far. Every time things went well, there was talk of ending the procurement of clones and assembling a more conventional Republic military. As soon as such talk began to gain momentum, inevitably, there would be a series of disasters and crises which would push such talk to the back burner again.
That said, it was clear to me that the economy in general, and the Big Five in particular, could use more intense scrutiny. I expected I might find some militarily valuable intel, and I did. My office was responsible for determining that the Separatists had turned to the use of more linthium in their droids. That showed they were suffering from a shortage of other materials. That also predicated a major assault on Pa'antuarth, a major supplier of linthium to the Separatists. The fact that Pa'antuarth was a major player in the Council of Neutral Systems and was exposed as a secret Separatist sympathizer did not officially give me any satisfaction. The fact that Pa'antuarth's true neutralization put a major crimp in Separatist war production, advanced the pace toward Republic victory substantially, saved the lives of thousands of Republic lives and, presumably, at least a few Jedi, officially did not give me any satisfaction. In fact, I was smug for a week.
I continued my investigation into the Big Five where all I expected to find is what many hard-core Republic loyalists consistently found, scraps and bits which tended to support the contention that they were truly Separatist sympathizers. I was therefore surprised when I found much more.
As I examined the flow of money and support, I found the Big Five were, of course, very sympathetic to the Separatists and neutral in name only. I expected that, and it was hardly a great discovery. However, I did something most people wouldn't bother with, I reviewed financial matters from before the Clone Wars began. My experience with mapping ship movements had taught my team being able to move forward and back in time was critical to having the best model. That's why our fleet model was so much better than everyone else's, since others only tried to know where things were right now and where they might be going. We applied the same kind of analysis to the Big Five and their financial dealings going back twenty or so years before the war started. What became clear was that someone had started the Clone War purposefully. Further, it was someone high in the Chancellor's office. I reviewed my findings three times to make sure I hadn't missed something. Essentially, I knew I was accusing Chancellor Palpatine of starting the Clone War for personal gain.
I compiled what would be the most important report of my life. We documented every iota at ridiculous length. We carefully reviewed, at each turn, every other possible explanation and carefully showed with, if anything, excessive documentation, why it was not possible. Finally, I put forward the conclusion. The thing about money was that it was all out in the open. Decision by decision. Transaction by transaction. It was all there to be seen in the public record. They just assumed no one would ever commit to the hyper tedious and time-consuming task of doing so. I suppose I had found my calling.
Master Arunx reviewed my report, nodded his head sorrowfully, and said, "You will have to present this to the Master's Council yourself."
I formally offered my report to the Council and they, with some apparent reluctance, agreed to hear me out for 15 minutes. Considering the length and complexity of the report, thousands of pages of complex documentation, it seemed brief, like I was being patronized.
Between submitting the report and presenting it, I had several days to consider my options and the likely outcomes. None of them were good. What was I really hoping for, a major schism between the Order and the Chancellor's office, mid-war? I felt it was my honor-bound responsibility to present the report, knowing the most likely outcome was that it would be rejected, and I would be further disgraced. This might be the only chance the Council got before it was too late to realize what they were up against and take action. Maybe it already was too late. Still my oath and honor as a Jedi demanded I go forward. Some Jedi prove their metal on the battlefield and some in desperate duels in the dark, mine was going through those chamber doors.
I showed up in my best robes. I made sure all Members of the High Council had received the report, in advance. We had also produced a summary which was still long, but I hoped would make for easier reading. The report, if printed on normal paper would have made a stack more than half my height. The summary would have been a solid couple centimeters. It took less than five minutes for me to know that not one of them had read my report. Not one of them had bothered to scan the summary. They were all aware of the conclusion. We reviewed the report briefly. I was accused by many of leaping to conclusions and not allowed to present the evidence, which I had, in depth.
At least I did not receive a formal reprimand.
Having had time to consider all the outcomes, I had already prepared a request which I made.
I knelt and said, "Since my report is not pleasing to the Council and your confidence in my services in the office in which I currently serve must be low, I request that I may take a sabbatical. I will go to Jedha where I will meditate and seek wisdom. Perhaps then I will find some way I can be of service to the Order."
Master Windu looked down on me from his cushion and said, "Your request is granted. Speak of this report to no one."
With that I took my leave of the Council, returned to my quarters and wrote this brief memoir.
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