If you did not read 'Exodus', do not despair. I am laying out this story in a way that it should be readable part by part, as well as in its entirety. If of course you don't think it is, holler.
Star Wars: The Dark Empire
Episode 2 - Jenesis
Four thousand years before the rise of the Galactic Empire, there existed an ancient Sith Empire concealed from the Old Republic in uncharted space beyond the outer rim, created with the specific intent of conquering the Republic.
For a thousand years it has remained hidden, watching and waiting for the Republic and its Jedi defenders to weaken. Finally, with the Republic at its weakest point ever and the empire nearly ready for its long-awaited invasion, its secret existence has been exposed by the betrayal of one of its most promising sons, MARKA CABANIC. While the Republic's generals and politicians work frantically to assemble a capable army and fleet in time, he has the impossible task of turning the depleted Jedi into a force capable of taking on 4,000 savage Sith. But peace cannot last for long now, it is merely the calm before the storm.
Six months have passed since the daring escape of O'Dus. In the Ossus system, Marka races to meet an important contact…
Part 1 –Glimmer of HopeOssus
Out of the darkest reaches of the galaxy, a small O-wing stealth scout blasted out of hyperspace. Continuing at a controlled speed, the vessel entered the atmosphere of the barren planet of Ossus, glowing brightly as it shot through layers of the various gasses. Entry was smooth and the scout was soon skimming over the planets surface, shimmering in the afternoon sun.
Reaching an area thick with ruins of what once must have been a city, the pilot slowed his vessel, scanning for a clear landing site. He found one on an ancient landing pad, which already had another small craft parked there. Much of the stonework was cracked and broken, but there was sufficient space for the vessel to land. As the scout lowered to the ground, sleds lowered on the underbelly and the engines disengaged with a hiss.
The hatch opened and a man stepped out of the cockpit, stretching to ease his muscles, cramped from being cooped up for the long journey. He was tall, but not unusually so. He wore Jedi robes, indicating his profession, but he had a purple cloak. His deep blue eyes had the far-away look of one who had experienced more hardship than most ever would in a lifetime. He might have been considered handsome once, with his firm, masculine features and strong jaw, but now two scars bisected the left side of his face, from the top of his brow to his chin; and only half his left ear remained. His hair was such a dark brown that it might be mistaken for black except upon close inspection; it was close cropped in a semi-military style. He moved without hurry, but his demeanor spoke of a restless energy, like he could ready for anything at a moment's notice. His forearms were covered with cotortis-woven gauntlets.
He was Marka Cabanic, onetime apprentice of the late Sith master Rengath Fer'rer, who had served directly under the Dark Lord of the Sith. He had led over 500 followers from the dark side to the Jedi, with the help of Kaya; Laman and the Greys. But many more would be needed if they were to have any chance of surviving the upcoming storm. Marka and the contact he was about to meet represented probably the only chance that the Republic had for facing the incredible power of the Sith Masters. How they would ever face the Dark Lord and his apprentice remained moot.
Circling around a blackened dead tree, Marka found his contact waiting. "Drop the disguise," Marka said without uttering any semblance of a greeting. "I need to see if it's true."
The man's face had been guarded by a powerful Force-mirror on all other occasions that he had met Marka. Now he finally let it drop. Marka could not suppress a gasp as he saw the other man for the first time. He could have been Marka's twin, except that his face was more angular, with higher brows and more cavernous eye sockets. Of course, his face was not marred with Marka's scars. He was also noticeably taller and less solidly built.
"No wonder people keep mistaking me for you, Never," said Marka with more than a little awe. "Or should I say, Revan."
Revan, who many thought was the prophesized Chosen One. Revan, Jedi prodigy and hero of the Mandalorian wars. Revan, who had betrayed the Republic to become a Sith Lord, and lead his armada on the unsuspecting Republic. Revan, who had been captured, brainwashed, retrained as a Jedi and finally defeated his old friend Darth Malak to once again become the saviour of the Galaxy. Revan, who had then vanished, leaving the Republic in disarray when it had desperately needed rebuilding, to combat alone the threat of the true Sith. Revan, the one name every person in the Republic knew, whispered about in dark corners and debated in political chambers. Revan, who now lay against a dead tree enjoying the morning sunlight, not bothering to confirm or deny.
"Why do we look so similar?" Marka demanded angrily. In the past six months he had endured attempts to swear fealty to him, requests to have his baby, strange looks from people, plenty of misunderstandings and no end of ill-conceived assassination attempts. This man had certainly made a reputation for himself in the Republic.
"If only I knew," Revan replied sadly.
"Are we related in some way?"
"I thought of that," said Revan, standing up and pacing, "but I highly doubt it. I am an orphan found on the streets of Delaria, a mid-rim world, while you were born and raised in the Sith empire, and you knew your parents."
Marka nodded, he had never known his mother but Revan's statement had been close enough to the truth. From what he had been told, his father and Laman had rescued his mother from one of the Dark Lord's holding cells on Pandema, and that's when they'd met. What she had done to deserve imprisonment remained moot to him though, and Laman refused to share.
"I see now why you did not reveal yourself to me when we first met," said Marka, smiling for the first time.
Revan nodded, smiling as well. "I rather thought you had enough to worry about, without that extra concern. You're actually taking this quite well. Believe me, I was even more shocked to see you for the first time. I had been staring at you for a while before I finally revealed myself."
Marka stood, thinking for a moment. "This might be to our advantage," he said finally, "since our enemies don't know this yet."
"Agreed," Revan nodded. "I'm sure that you have assassins hunting you now, as a result of your actions in the Empire. I could head them off, while you engage the one who is hunting me."
"Do you know who it is?"
"Yes, Jezebel Torin, otherwise known as the Exile."
Marka shrugged. "I heard something about her. Isn't she the one who caused all the trouble on Peragus and Manaan?" Manaan had lost its ability to export kolto as a result of her intrusion, Ahto city was currently being rebuilt, but it would take time before it would be operational again.
"It's much worse than that," said Revan grimly, and began to outline the full extent of Jezebel's depravity and power. He gave a whole account of their history, not bothering to defend his actions on Malachor V, or make light of what he had done to her.
Marka was wide-eyed by the end. "A Force-sensitive who gave up the Force, and now sucks it out of others!" he exclaimed. "I heard of something like that being experimented on in the Empire, but it all ended in abysmal failure, with tens of thousands dead."
That had been over two centuries ago, and had caused the most serious rebellion in Sith space ever, ousted from first place only recently by the Kalcuta rebellion that had finally ended six months ago, after lasting for nearly seven months.
Revan nodded. "It gets worse. She has latched onto my Force-signature with such intent that if I was to come within sight distance of her, I would die. She's far too powerful for me to resist."
"How am I supposed to face somebody with that sort of power?" asked Marka angrily. "As soon as I get close enough to her, surely the same thing would happen?"
"I don't know," said Revan, "but if there's anyone I would trust to achieve the impossible, it's you."
Marka brushed the compliment aside angrily. "My strength is in lightsaber combat, and against this 'Exile' it would be useless."
"You'll have to find a way, otherwise I'll never be able to return to the Republic. I'm assuming that's why you came to meet me, to persuade me to act as a rallying point for them." Revan said in a mildly dry voice.
Marka stopped in quick surprise. He had forgotten, after dealing with so many Republic buffoons, what it was like to deal with someone as – or more – intelligent than him.
"I thought so," said Revan, smiling wryly when Marka had no comeback remark. "So, now that that's out of the way, who do you think is going to come after you?"
"Probably a few score Force-dead assassins," said Marka, clenching his fist. Force-dead assassins were manufactured from living people using unspeakable methods. The end result was an assassin that was not much deadlier to normal people, but able to nullify all advantages that a Force-user would have had. Their elite were known as the phantoms. Any more than two of them at a time would most likely spell his doom, a fact he was acutely aware of.
A terrible thought then struck him. "Unless…" he had just thought of someone else, someone far, far deadlier.
--
The border of the outer rim
Just inside the borders of the Republic, a vessel de-cloaked. It was shaped perfectly like a Republican fuel frigate, but no civilian vessel had ever been outfitted with cloaking capacities. In fact, the technology was far more advanced than anything available in the Republic. It was no Republic ship. It was the 'Intangible', a vessel custom-built in the Sith empire for the specific purpose of infiltrating the Republic. For the past six months it had been flying through the outer rim, not using its hyperspace capacities to eliminate any chance of detection. Even though it was stealth-outfitted, spacecraft traveling through hyperspace was very easy to detect. Now that it was in the Republic though, it would pass without comment so they could now use hyperspace to travel more quickly. The cloaking capacities were now only be a back-up in case of discovery.
On the bridge of the 'Intangible', Korgul Juglur breathed a contented sigh. Finally, after so many months of snail-slow travel they were through the danger zone, where their presence might arouse suspicion. His second-in-command was flying the vessel; he was only one on the entire ship who wasn't unnaturally Force-dead. Honestly, Korgul thought it would have been better had they simply hyperspaced directly into the Republic, their chances of detection would have been minimal with the Republic's military in such disarray in the outer rim, but the Dark Lord's orders had been explicit. Korgul smiled as he looked back on the lines of phantoms immobilized in cold hibernation. The Republic would hardly know what had hit them.
Korgul himself had only one designated target: Marka.
--
Asteroid field, outer rim
As a small fighter blasted out of hyperspace nearby, Hugas took a moment to scan its designation before deactivating the targeting systems on his corvette. One could never be too careful in the outer rim, there were plenty of pirates roaming around, not to mention remnants of the Sith and Mandalorian fleets still trying to relive their glory-days. This vessel, though, was none other than his master's; he activated the airlock and opened the corvette's cargo hold. His master had to fly from underneath into a space only just able to accommodate his vessel, a feat no ordinary pilot would risk. But then his master was no ordinary pilot.
Hugas' real name was Maghugas NG Kamay-Palagi, but he had always been known as Hugas, or Huge-ass as spiteful people had felt was fitting to call him. His surname they had insulted even more, as it unfortunately sounded very similar to the Gumai-Kanadi berries that were used as an aphrodisiac on Telrahvin, so he had changed it, or shortened it, to Kamagi. His first name, however, was not so easily changed, since that's what he was used to responding to. Force knew, he'd tried, but it had never worked.
Hugas Kamagi had worked as a chef on starships since his teenage years; through two wars he had never so much as pointed a blaster at the enemy, despite having done the military training. After training, though, he had never walked more than a few hundred meters in a day, from his cabin to the mess and back again. That, combined with being surrounded constantly by food and being genetically predisposed to put on weight, had left him with a physique that did not allow him to move any more than the few hundred meters a day. With his copious weight and unhealthy appearance, he had made few friends, which became fewer and fewer as the years slowly rolled by and he grew larger and larger, becoming ever more withdrawn.
Then four years ago, while his vessel was patrolling the very borders of the outer rim, a strange Jedi had landed his craft on his vessel for re-fuelling. He had stopped off at the mess for a meal, Hugas had taken special care with it, terrified that the 'Jedi' might turn out to be a Sith. He had scarcely taken his eyes off Hugas the entire time he had been eating, terrifying the large man. Afterwards he had taken him aside, and spoken to him. Then he had left, to whatever strange place he came from. But his words had stayed with Hugas. "You have great potential in the Force, you could be a Jedi."
So, at the age of twenty-nine, he had quit his job, taken his life-savings and gone on a series of exercise courses and diets, more than halving his nearly 300-kilogram bulk in just over three years. Finally, less than a year ago, the strange Jedi had returned from wherever he had been and made good of his promise, tracking Hugas down and making him his padawan learner, his apprentice.
Hugas had worked even harder since then, training in the ways of the Jedi under his master. He had proven to be a poor study with the lightsaber, struggling to build hand-eye coordination, which he had seldom used before, although he did have enough strength to batter a weaker opponent into submission. He did have great potential in the Force, and his master was training him to use it as a weapon. He had studied whatever materials his master had brought, which hadn't been much, but according to him being a Jedi was a choice, not an assignment. Hugas had been working hard to lose his last fifty extra kilograms; so far he had only managed to shed twenty. Being cooped up in the corvette certainly hadn't helped.
His master joined him in the cockpit soon after the cargo hold had been closed and the airlock deactivated. "May I join you," he asked, with a slight smile.
Hugas grinned and got up, moving to the co-pilot's seat, letting his master take the pilot's seat. It had taken a while for him to get over his initial awe of the man, the months that they had been together had done much to dispel that feeling, but not entirely. "Did he come?" he asked.
"He came," said his master softly. "But the news could have been better. We may have an enemy on our hands just as dangerous as Jezebel. Also, Bastila's become the grandmaster."
"Bastila!" Hugas exclaimed, he'd never met her but his master had talked about her enough to make him feel like he had. "How did that happen?"
"Apparently the council was divided between the ex-Sith leaders and the old council members, with the new Jedi members divided between them. Bastila was chosen as one who held no alliance to either camp, while still being an experienced Jedi."
"The last thing we need right now is a divided council."
"I know," his master sighed, "but there is little we can do, with our current predicament. How's your training been going?"
"Well, I've lost another two kilos, and I think I've mastered form two finally."
"I'll be the judge of that," muttered his master, peering into space. "Any word on Jezebel?"
Hugas quickly checked the logs; "I received a report of her going to Dantooine just after you left, not much damage except one dead Cathar Jedi, and a few civilians."
"It was Juhani, I got the report," his master sighed again and leaned back on his seat. "I knew her Hugas, she helped me overcome the dark side, just as I had helped her." He sat forward with his head down, in attitude of prayer.
"And yesterday I got a report of the exile going to Kashyyk, but she's left already," continued Hugas. He was used to his master having nostalgic moments when he heard the names of dead Jedi. Few affected him so profoundly though.
His masters eyes suddenly popped open, "I know what she is doing," he hissed. Reaching forward he checked the logs. "Manaan…Tatooine…Dantooine, Kashyyk, she may have been to Korriban already. She's following the star maps!"
"Where will those maps take her?"
"Lehon, the home of the Rakatans," said his master through gritted teeth. "She can't go there, that planet will be vital the defense of the Republic, I can't have her making a mess of things there now."
Hugas frowned. "What makes it so special?"
"There's a massive disruption field there that I hope to use to destroy at least one of the Sith fleets." He began to start up the engines, warming up the hyperdrive. "We're going to give her something more substantial to chase."
Hugas smiled as the corvette lurched into a massive acceleration. Not many people had a master who would happily bait Jezebel the Exile.
Of course, not many people had a master by the name of Revan.
--
Alderon, Jedi Academy
Breathe Kaya told herself, deep breaths. Then the paralyzing, cramping pain hit her again and she fell to her knees.
"She's going into labour," Banali cried, "somebody get a doctor!" sending Jedi apprentices scurrying in all directions.
Kaya was trying to use meditation to slow the birthing process and dull the pain, blotting out the rest of the world she managed to successfully reach a trance state. But the incredible cramps were still wracking her. In an effort to subdue all the discomfort she pulled herself deeper into meditation than she had ever been before.
Kaya found herself in a strange, black world, intersected with white lines, which converged with each other at places and each split off more times the further away they went from her, carrying on further than she could see. This place was miraculously free of all pain; she felt nothing. All around her lines began; reaching out she touched the one nearest to her face.
Suddenly she saw images flash in fast forward past her eyes, some of them slowing enough to be discernable, most of them just flashing by fast enough to leave an impression of what was generally happening.
Marka; playing with their daughter; them happy together. Suddenly assassins bursting in on them, Marka and her fighting them desperately…
Kaya released her hold on the vision in shock, but intrigued now she moved to the largest branch and touched it.
Silent assailants ripping at the fabric of society. Key Republic figures vanishing and turning up dead, terror gripping the masses. Marka trying unsuccessfully to combat this new threat, while making sure the Jedi training camps were well hidden on backwater planets. Revan being forced out of hiding by an unsuccessful attack, and returning to Bastila, later having another child with her. Jezebel catching up with him; Bastila sacrificing herself to allow him to escape. Marka trying to stop her, and being badly injured. Revan caught finally and murdered by her. Marka assassinated by Korgul while in medical. The Jedi order divided between those who followed the old ways of seclusion and serenity, and the ones who drew a balance. The hidden Sith empire invading ahead of schedule. HER having a son, who would never meet his father. The weakened and dispirited Republic putting up little more than a token resistance against their invaders. The divided Jedi order being crushed by the voracious Sith. Everybody dying, all HER friends, Ramon, Mical, Brianna, Lorn, Dustil, Banali, Carth, Laman, Kaah, everyone. Only HER left. The Republic surrendering unconditionally to the Dark Lord. HER going into deep into hiding with both of her children, and Revan and Bastila's two children, training them to one day make a stand, and put an end to the Sith Lordship over the Galaxy. HER dying of a broken heart, nearly two decades later, after being sickly for years, never knowing if the four children would ever be successful.
The vision finally faded, it had been growing fainter and fainter since Marka died in her vision. Kaya was shocked, Marka, dead. That could not be possible. For a few instants she became aware of the real world again, she was in the medical lab on a bed now. She experienced a moment of relief, noticing that the doctor had arrived. Then the pain hit her again, and she went instinctively back into the deep level of meditation she had been in before.
Back in the strange world, she looked at it again with new eyes. The paths seemed to be all the possible futures, branching out as people's choices affected them. But there would be far more possibilities if everybody's choices were taken into account, these paths were only branching out into a few hundred. Perhaps only her choices were being taken into account, while everybody else's were already predetermined. The main path the vision followed branched out as the possibilities increased; she followed one of the larger breakaways. Hopefully in this one Marka did not die.
This time Revan did not return to Bastila, Jezebel got it into her head that Marka was Revan, and hunted him down. HER dying, trying to defend him.
At that point the vision faded immediately, Kaya supposed that if she died in a possible future that she couldn't see any further on it. Moving back a bit she continued on that path, but off a different side branch.
The possible future continued with HER not getting in Jezebel's way, and Marka being murdered by Jezebel. Revan trying to exact vengeance, and only just escaping with his life. Korgul and Jezebel forming an alliance, hunting Revan down like a dog, before assassinating nearly every single Jedi, and crushing all large bastions of military might in the Republic. The Republic folding in even before the Sith invasion. Bastila and HER being among some of the last Jedi hunted down and exterminated, just after the invasion.
Again the vision faded immediately after her death. Kaya once again nearly broke her meditation, but returned quickly as the pain struck again.
It occurred to her that in every future, Marka and Revan were being killed, and the Republic being crushed quickly. It made sense though, they were greatest hope the Republic had, and without them the Republic would have no way of combating the power of the Sith Masters. Korgul and Jezebel seemed to be the perpetrators of this atrocity. Kaya knew a little about Jezebel, her reputation preceded her. Korgul she had once heard Marka refer to as the 'left hand of the Dark Lord'. That seemed to suggest that he was an assassin, since by Sith tradition the left hand was the dagger hand. It was terrifying how easily those two seemed to be able to kill the two most powerful Jedi in the history of the order. Kaya resolved to find a future where the Marka and Revan lived. Apart from the fact that the Republic needed them, she couldn't bear the thought of living in a future without Marka. And even though she had her differences with Bastila, she wouldn't wish the death of her husband on the other woman. Strange that it was just the four of them that seemed to matter in the visions, while all others on their side were merely incidental.
Different sequences of events, different events, but the end result the same. Marka dead, Revan dead, and this time Bastila as well; with HER following soon after.
This time Revan was captured, while Marka was killed. When Kaya next saw him, he was the devoted new apprentice of the Dark Lord, by which time the Republic of course had been crushed.
This vision followed the same pattern as last scenario, only this time Revan was killed while Marka was captured to later become the Dark Lord's apprentice. Kaya followed this path and its divisions for quite a while, because in it she had again gone into hiding with her children and Revan and Bastila's, this time Banali was with her. Marka though, in none of the possibilities would turn from the dark side again, despite all her efforts in every future. There appeared to be something holding him there, he didn't even appear to have a free will. He did however, in almost every one, hunt HER down and take the children to be trained as Sith, before killing her and Banali with chilling ease.
Kaya came into reality again just as her water broke. People were talking all around her, some excited, some nervous, a few terrified. But through all the familiar and unfamiliar faces, there was one that she wanted to see, and didn't. Marka, where was he? Kaya now had a new incentive to go back into her deep meditation, apart from blocking her pain it might just be vital for the survival of the Republic.
Kaya followed every path that she thought might hold promise, but none turned out well for the Republic. She only found one where she and Marka lived, where the two of them went into hiding immediately after the birth. They would live out their lives as vagabonds, and be all but forgotten by a galaxy now dominated by the Sith. But Kaya was a Jedi; she could not abandon the Republic to their tender mercies.
She became aware that she was no longer in labour, but actually giving birth. She was now frantic, she did not know if she would ever be able to reach this level of deep meditation again to walk the possible futures. She had to find one that would allow the Republic to survive. In desperation, she turned to the narrowest thread, the least possible future that could happen.
This time, the sequence of events was very different, but Kaya was shocked at what she would be required to do to make the future possible. She couldn't possibly do that! She couldn't manipulate them in such a way; she couldn't drive him to do that! But she did not draw away, for the more she followed it, the more she realized that far more things were going right for the Republic. Marka, Revan and the Republic might have a small chance.
Before she could follow the vision further though, she felt herself being forcibly extracted from it. As she came back into the real world, she was aware of the infant being pulled out of her. The cord was cut, and the baby gave a huge wail as it was forced to breathe for the first time by a slap on the bottom. Somebody said that she had her mother's beauty, but in truth she was ugly as only an infant can be. Someone else responded by saying that she had her father's lungs, prompting a laugh.
"Congratulation's, you have a beautiful baby girl," said the doctor. "Have you thought of a name?"
"Belaya," Kaya murmured, both Marka and she had agreed immediately on that choice of name. It was more than fitting. Without her baby's namesake none of them would be alive now. "But, but…" she stammered, realizing that she had not followed the vision of promise to the end, she did not know she could dare hope for victory, or if it was just a longer road to eventual defeat. Now she could not even find the path to the deep meditation she had reached before.
Then she fainted.
--
Coruscant, the Jedi temple
In a round chamber at the top of the Jedi temple, the council was assembling for a meeting. There were twelve seats arranged around the room at equal intervals, in theory it was supposed to show that it was a council of equals. The five council member; the only ones currently on Coruscant; filed into their spaces, while in six of the empty seats blue holo-images of other council members appeared, until only one seat remained empty. In times not long past, such a full council meeting would not have been possible, with so many members off-world. But now, with a minor adjustment to already existing technology, it was possible to project the holo-image of a council member onto their relevant seat; while wherever they were they could sit in front of the images of the entire council, and interact as though they actually were there. Marka's image looked a bit strange, but that was because he was being projected from the cockpit of a moving fighter.
This Jedi council was possibly the youngest in the history of the order, with only three of its previous members surviving, and only Vandar had been in the council for any lengthy period. Few of these new council members were afraid of change, most were working hard to try and institute it. The three remaining council members were: Master Astin Lamar, the younger brother of the late Master Vrook, and now the second in the Jedi council; Master Vandar Tokare, the venerable little Jedi master who had been in the order longer than most could trace back their ancestors; and Master Yarin Bleur, an Ithorian who had just been raised before the disbanding of the Jedi order.
There were four from the Sedan Academy, although only two were ex-Sith. Marka had become a member of the council naturally; he had too much influence not to, and now served as the council's battle master. Kaya, for her part in turning the Sith. Laman O'del had been raised for the same reason; and finally Ramon Naj, mainly for his level of influence among the five hundred ex-Sith, who were currently the only Jedi fully combat trained to the standard of the true Sith. The last five council members were Mical Aurain and Kaah Ohtok, raised for their actions during the Pandema raid; Yuthura Ban, to represent the Sith under Revan and Malak returning to the order; Bastila Shan, who was now the head of the Jedi council, the grandmaster; and finally Tathleen, a soft-spoken Kiffar who was veteran of the Sith war and now served as the keeper of the chronicles.
"Is the Council present?" intoned Bastila Shan.
"All save one," Astin Lamar replied, he sat on the right hand side of Bastila.
"Who?"
"Master Cabanic."
"I'm here," said Marka's blue image mildly.
"Master Kaya Cabanic," said Astin impatiently, then added. "She is neglecting her duties."
Marka stiffened angrily, that was not called for. "She's just given birth," he said indignantly. "Surely you can understand that she needs rest right now?" He would be with her if he could, but his duties had forced him to put off going to her side. He was racing to get to her now though.
"I understand that a Jedi should not even be married," spat Astin "Let alone…"
"The council moves to condone Master Kaya's absence," said Bastila sharply, cutting Astin off. "All those in favour?"
There was a string of seven 'Aye's. "Majority, motion passed," she continued, ignoring Astin's livid expression. "Is there anything else anybody wants to bring up before we move onto our constant problem of preparing for the Sith?"
"Yes," said Marka. "In response to Master Astin's statement, I would make a call that Jedi marriages be condoned once more."
"Jedi don't marry," Astin blustered, "We must be devoid of possessions and attachments, so as not to fall to the dark side. That is impossible to uphold in a marriage relationship."
"And yet, four in this very council are already married," said Kaah Ohtok.
"That does not mean that we should allow them, it should not be of the Jedi," said Vandar, looking steadily at Kaah, who lowered his eyes. Plainly he had too much respect for the veteran master to openly oppose him.
Mical though apparently had no such inhibitions, "Not long ago, Jedi marriages were allowed, in special circumstances. That was in your time even, Vandar. It never led to the dark side any more than anything else, what has led to the dark side has been suppressed emotions. I believe marriage should be allowed again, and embraced by the Jedi order with no reservations."
"And from a legislative point of view, there are already far too many married Jedi for us not to allow more marriages," Bastila pointed out, "The order is far too fragile at the moment to ostracize those already married. We can't turn Force sensitives away on the basis of their marital status, there are too few already who are willing to be trained. To turn a blind eye to those already married would invite all sorts of trouble, because none would have any respect for any of the other laws."
"Sith don't marry, it leads to too many positive and productive feelings," said Marka, "Besides which, I think marriages would actually be beneficial to a Jedi's walk in the light, and certainly for the orders numbers." He went on to explain how the Sith in the empire kept a track of the bloodlines, because generally Sith would beget Sith, and strength in the Force followed families. Marka was actually exceptional in that his father hadn't been particularly powerful, while he was. He supposed he could have inherited it from his mother, who he had never known, but he had never heard of her being particularly powerful either.
"You are biased, being married," Astin muttered audibly at his argument.
"And you aren't, being un-married?" Kaah shot back.
The debate continued for another half hour, but Astin and Vandar had little ground to stand on. Predictably, the three married council members present – Kaah, Marka and Bastila – stood strongly against them. When it finally came down to a vote, only the three old council members voted against.
"Motion passed," said Bastila calmly, but there was a glint of triumph in her eyes. Astin was shaking with suppressed fury, and Master Vandar distinctly uneasy. Bastila moved the meeting along quickly to the constant problem of how to grow the order more, obviously worrying that someone else would make more revolutionary motions that would upset the older Jedi masters. Marka nodded silently, he agreed with her sentiment. The changes would come; they just needed to be spaced out a little so as to avoid major disruption.
--
Telos, Military academy
Venoak stepped through the doors of the Telosian Academy with two young knights at his back, who were carrying a midi-chlorian testing machine between them, and was greeted by a flustered receptionist. Plainly she did not meet Jedi too often, and if she had been informed of their immanent arrival she would also certainly know that he held the prestigious rank of Jedi Master. He sensed her outer layer of thoughts without meaning to; her emotions were just so strong. She quite obviously was attracted to him, but not because of his looks, or even his position, rather she was just lusting after what she couldn't have.
Venoak put his mild disgust out of his mind as they walked into the auditorium, where students were beginning to file in. The Jedi Master opened himself up fully to the Force, allowing all their collective emotions and thoughts to wash over him. He also searched deeper, discerning if they were possibly sensitive to the Force. As more and more students filed in, he wrote down the names of those possibly Force sensitive. It wasn't hard to discern someone's name; it was always on the borders of their subconscious.
Venoak had always been extremely talented in telepathy, a talent that had put him at a distinct disadvantage as a Sith. He simply had not been able to constantly bear the last thoughts of anyone dying, especially one he had killed. While all Force-sensitives could skim thoughts and emotions off others, they generally had to train to be able to do it, and had to concentrate on that person. Venoak though skimmed off their most obvious ones without even meaning to, and if he concentrated on someone only those fully trained in resisting his art could hope to hold anything back. It was his gift, his curse. He could never shut out the constant noise of thoughts and emotions without concentrating on it; it made sleep nearly impossible. At least in the Sith empire soldiers were taught to block their minds as a matter of course, so they might live when the Sith were feeling vengeful. Here in the Republic though nobody except the trained Jedi did it, and there were so many more people! Venoak had nearly been deafened walking through the streets of Coruscant.
Finally the room was filled with students, most excited but some apprehensive at the thought of meeting Jedi. Venoak did not waste any time. He began by introducing himself and the knights, and giving a brief outline of his past. Most were shocked to hear that he had once been a Sith but, as he had predicted, this gave them in general even more of a sense of awe of him, and actually made them like him more. Strange that admitting to faults should make people like you more, Venoak knew from experience that it was because they then saw that you were imperfect, like them. After a short speech about how the Republic needed more Jedi to stand against the Sith, he invited those that wouldn't want to become Jedi under any circumstance to leave. Some did, more than fifty of them, one a Force-sensitive. After that Venoak read out his list of names of those that he wanted to stay behind for testing.
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Orin punched the air as his name was called, and turned excitedly to Erik, his twin brother. They were both waiting now for Erik's name to be called. But it never was.
The rest of the room was dismissed, and filed out somewhat disappointed that they had not been picked. Erik though sat defiantly in his seat; he wasn't the only one. Twenty-two names had been called, there were still about thirty in the room. The Jedi master spoke again.
"Those who are still here will be tested for Force-sensitivity. Based on your level of Force-sensitivity I shall be making a decision as to whether you should be trained. If I so decide, you shall be discharged from this academy immediately and be transferred to one of the many training camps we have all over the galaxy. If I do not decide so, you shall return to your studies. But be warned, my decision is final, and once you test positive there is no backing out, you will become a Jedi. So this is your final chance to back out."
No one moved from their seats. Master Venoak started calling them up in no particular order, even the ones that he hadn't called up originally. They were simply made to put their hand on the machine, it obviously pricked them because some winced. After that the verdict was given. Some had looks of disappointment and headed slowly back to class, others gave exulted whoops as they were directed to the back of the hall. Orin noticed that while not all that Venoak had called up were necessarily getting picked, all of those who hadn't been called up initially were being sent back. He didn't say anything to Erik, but he must have noticed.
Then it was their turn. Orin tried to walk calmly down to the stage, but nearly tripped on the bottom stair. He put his hand into the machine, gritting his teeth, determined not to wince with pain. He succeeded in that at least. As he removed his hand, examining the small prick in his index finger, a read-up came on the screen. The knight who was examining it, a female Rodian, pursed her lips thoughtfully and turned to the Jedi Master. Master Venoak looked at the reading, at him, then at the reading again; plainly it was a borderline decision. Then he nodded; Orin punched the air again. He was going to become a Jedi! Wait until his parents and friends found out, they would be so proud. He would be the pride of his district; all the girls would want a piece of him.
Erik was up next; he had been waiting impatiently behind his brother. This time the Rodian Jedi did not even refer him to the Jedi Master; she simply shook her head. Orin felt a lurch in his heart that dispelled all of his previous joy. The two of them had always been together, since infancy. They looked different, their personalities where as different as blue from red. But they had been together forever, through thick and thin, good times and bad. They had gone through school together, and enrolled at the military academy together, and always been there all those times in-between. This had always been their dream since childhood, to become Jedi and defend the galaxy. They had joined the military academy as the next-best thing when that hadn't happened. By chance now it had, but only to Orrin. They were to be torn apart. He would have to live the dream for both of them.
Erik and Orin did not say anything, there were no words needed. They knew how much they meant to each other. They embraced firmly, then Erik turned and walked towards the door. As he opened it, he turned and looked back at his brother, who hadn't taken his eyes off him. Regretfully he closed the door behind him.
A single tear fell from Orin's cheek, shattering on the floor with the force of a hailstone.
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