Suburban Jedi
Chapter 2 - Manus Olcan
Like a fairy tale castle, the Grand Forum perched atop a rocky crag towering above the city of Shan-Ri-Mune. Architecturally impressive, its unique design was conceived by an alien race now marginalized on their home planet by the usurping brigands, who stole it to house what passed for a legislative body among the squabbling bandit kings.
As though the mountain's summit had been sliced off by a giant's sword, the outer facade of the government complex rested upon a tall mesa formed from the core of an extinct volcano. At its heart, the edifice consisted of a central dome with a lattice of copper beams separated by clear crystal covering a vast, amphitheater sunk into the native rock. This was where political debates raged and occasionally laws were passed in a grotesque mockery of democracy.
Surrounding the dome were a colonnade, seven lofty, slender towers, and an expansive park boasting one of the most exotic collections of plant species from across the known galaxy. Varieties of grass collected from alien worlds arranged into a giant patchwork quilt of lawns expressed every hue across the visible spectrum and beyond. Paved avenues lined with stately trees meandered with mathematical beauty between the open spaces as well as leading through dozens of artfully designed formal and informal gardens where fountains, streams, and ponds brimming with multicolored fish and floating flowers delighted the senses. At the edge of the park, where nearly vertical rock slopes dropped precipitously a thousand feet to the city below, ran a low wall over which one could gaze inland to high, glacier covered mountains, seaward to the ocean with its clear blue waters and numerous atolls, or any direction downward to the beauty of the city.
Beneath the exterior splendor, akin to a nasty surprise discovered upon overturning a stone, lurked a rat's warren of hallways, offices, and conference rooms occupying such a myriad of labyrinthine levels that it was doubtful if even the greatest lifespan of the longest lived sentient afforded adequate time to explore them all. Despite the immeasurable volume of space, the entirety was occupied by the crawling vermin that slaved for their pirate masters to accomplish the real work of the pseudo-government. Secret deals, unscrupulous compromises, betrayals, squabbles over territory, and stifling bureaucracy occurred out of sight where the light of day and public scrutiny could never penetrate.
Shan-Ri-Mune was incongruous in the extreme. Serene and transcendent beauty masked a villainous soul. Extortion, bribery, theft, and even murder were frequent crimes often unpunished or investigated erratically and typically only when the interests of the powerful were involved. Common vices such as gambling, drugs, and prostitution were not moderated. On the contrary, they were taken to ridiculous extremes on this neutral world where no single pirate kingdom dominated. Regulations were few. Survival and a striving for dominance were the foremost laws.
Within one of the towers waited a Jedi knight and his padawan on a secret mission. The knight, Manus Olcan, was tall, athletic, and fair of skin and hair. He stood at the window observing the splendor outside.
Rather than traditional ascetic Jedi robes made of coarse cloth, he wore the attire of a trade diplomat of the Republic. The tight fitting suit was cut to mimic a centuries old opulence currently in vogue with merchants, who longed for the glories of a wealthier, more aristocratically dominated society. Manufactured using natural rather than synthetic fibers, Manus felt ridiculous in the heavy, woolen garments with their bizarre mixture of formality and adventurous bravado. Its frilly white shirt, bright red sequinned vest, dark jacket with a high collar, broad lapels and long tails were bad enough, but the top hat, wide leather belt from which hung a ceremonial dagger, and an elaborately carved cane of no use to a man in perfect physical health had him longing for his monastic Jedi habit that he disdained and normally forsook whenever he was beyond the censorious glares of those he considered his betters within his order.
In truth, it mattered little what Manus wore if making a favorable impression was his goal. Handsome, charming, and blessed with a deep, rich voice, other humans and many aliens found him innately charismatic and vied for his company. His stay on Cabellar was a noteworthy exception transforming him into a brooding and dangerous force to be avoided. Every sentient possessing even a tiny modicum of self-preservation encountering him in a public space wisely stood aside to let him pass, or better yet, fled to the safety of anywhere else.
"All of this is a lie," declared Olcan, voicing his bitterness to his padawan. "The Pirate Confederation has neither the talent nor the aesthetic to construct anything as magnificent as this grandeur stolen from a more worthy civilization."
In the center of the room upon a rug woven with intricate geometric designs, sat Hanlah Aka deep in meditation. Focused contemplatively inward, the exact words of her master's statement were slow to register in her conscious mind, but the wave of disgust he projected was comparable to the pulse from a supernova disturbing the local fabric of space-time. Roused from her restful mental state, she stood, appearing to fill upward, as if by magic, the voluminous, floor length, jade green, hooded cape she wore.
Unlike her master, whose outfit fit snugly over his trim human body, her attire was chosen to hide her unique features lest they draw attention. Alien, she was not attractive by human standards. Her red skin, black hair, cheek tendrils, dimly glowing yellow eyes, three digit feet and hands, and the bony spurs on her cranium, elbows, and ankles marked her as a member of the Sith species.
Her kind were separate from, and yet similar in many ways to, the dark side cult of the same name. Use of the Force was as natural to her people as swimming to a Gungin, but this innate tendency was skewed to the dark side. It was an unfortunate trait that earned her and her people mistrust by nearly everyone within the Jedi-led Republic. In defiance of her heritage, Hanlah Aka had deliberately chosen to follow the light side of the Force, or Ashla, attempting to rise above her birth and become more than the conspiracy of her genes. The result were external struggles with her chosen order and internal struggles against her own nature. Meditation provided the peace and balance she desperately sought.
"Are you referring to the Grand Forum, Master?"
"Yes. This building. The city. Everything on this planet. These pirates can create nothing but destruction and misery for everyone but themselves. It's only the pre-programmed and self-repairing droids that maintain the charade of paradise."
His scowl turned darker as he contemplated his duplicity in its unjust creation.
"That and the support that we bring them," he admitted. "Without our help, they would fall into decay and be conquered by the Union."
"I have often argued to let that happen," interjected Hanlah. "We should not aid and abet their evil. Underneath the pretty veneer of this city is a roiling mantle of greed, corruption, and avarice with a dark, evil core. I can sense it from here. The Pirate Confederacy is a cancer on the body of the Republic. We should fight it lest we become tainted by association and thus turn evil ourselves."
Manus sighed.
"I wish it were that simple. I despise helping these brigands, but what else can we do? Do we allow the Union to grow powerful enough to trigger a war from the races of the Unknown Regions? The Outworlds would bear the brunt of a conflict far more devastating than raids by pirates. Worse still, the Republic would be drawn in, possibly triggering a civil war between those sympathetic to the Outworlds and those like the Council desiring peace."
"Perhaps. We know too little about the Unknowns to evaluate if they will go to war, as they claim, over colonization of this region. It is possible that they may be more disorganized and weaker than we think, using our ignorance of their true strength to bluff us into capitulating to their demands. We need to probe Unknown space and discover for ourselves what is really there."
"No. There you are wrong. We must keep the peace and protect the Republic. The Unknowns have given their ultimatum and forbidden us entry. The Jedi will not force this issue and go armed into battle again. The Union and the isolated Outworlds are a threat to the galactic peace that our forebears fought so long to win. We must deal with them ourselves. They are our spawn. They left the Republic willingly, and in doing so, they forsook our protection and became our problem. Though it sickens me, cooperating with the pirates is an unfortunate necessity to discourage expansion beyond our borders. Since colonization, creation, and civilization are all anathema to these buccaneers, they are a safe buffer between the Republic and the Unknowns in this lawless region."
"How can murderers and thieves ever be considered safe, Master? They have spent over a century ravaging the Outworlds."
"All of the Outworlders strife and suffering can be avoided if they abandon their colonies and return to the protective care of the Republic. When that happens, then the Republic can wipe out these anarchistic thieves and build a stable border."
"You and the Council see conflict as the only options. I see a third path. We need to reach out to the Unknowns and learn about them to understand and work with them. We should not stop here on the borders of the Republic. Fear should never dissuade a Jedi."
Manus bristled at the implication that he and the Jedi Council were afraid.
"It is not fear that keeps us from venturing into Unknown space. It is mercy and compassion for a galaxy that is tired of war. Uncomfortable compromises are unavoidable when peace is at stake."
"I respectfully disagree, Master. As practitioners of Ashla, we must use our powers to gain great knowledge and bring wisdom and healing to all. Jedi meddling in political squabbling is a step towards desire of power, hence a step down the path to the dark side. Aiding pirates with their reign of terror, how can that be anything but evil?"
"Your struggle against your own heritage has made you too sensitive and fearful of the dark side. A true master of the light side understands the truth of what Master Thon said long ago 'It is not simply enough to know the light. A Jedi must feel the tension between the two sides of the Force.' There is a balance between light and dark, and we must walk the tightrope between them to do the greatest good. Are we not trained to fight and kill as needed?"
"Yes, but only in defense."
"Ideally, but we could never have defeated the Sith and brought about the current era of peace and prosperity without attacking them, without an army of our own. Han, the Council knows what they are doing. They are wise and understand the tension and balance of the Force. We must obey their commands as one day other Jedi will obey our commands."
Hanlah was silent for a moment as she pondered her master's mood. It was evident that Manus was developing political aspirations. Once content to be the best possible Jedi knight, he quickly mastered nearly all aspects of his training to become a truly powerful Force user. Lately, she sensed his discontent with his current role. His desire to be a master, and perhaps serve on the Grand Council one day, had not been openly expressed, but was manifestly evident nonetheless. Though he appeared by all standards to be eminently qualified, this promotion had so far been denied him. Hanlah wondered if the Council saw what she saw. Did they see an incomplete side of his training where he neglected to abandon all passion and desire for power and control? Hanlah sensed it, and was determined to help him conquer it.
"You aspire to be a master on the Council, then?"
His response followed swiftly as if there was no basis for dispute.
"Don't all Jedi?"
"I desire neither power nor control. They are malevolent forces."
"How can we bring mercy and compassion to the galaxy without power? Trust in the goodness in each creature's heart? Lead only by example and individual acts of kindness?"
"Yes."
"Your ideals are noble, Han, and reflect well upon you, but you are practicing an extreme side of the Force."
"I have chosen my preferred end of the Force continuum. I know the dark side and what awaits there. I feel that tension every moment of every day. I am Sith, or have you forgotten?"
Realizing her impertinence, Hanlah attempted to recover from her faux pas.
"My apologies, Master. I spoke rashly and should not lecture one with such wisdom as yourself."
Manus was unfazed by her rebuke.
"No need to apologize. I do, in fact, occasionally forget your heritage. Take that as a complement and a testament to how far you have progressed in pursuit of the light."
"I accept your praise and am ever grateful for your teaching and attention. You are the only Jedi who is willing to view me as more than my race. The Council does not forget it or approve."
"The Council is wrong in that. You will make a great Jedi when you find your balance. Your natural affinity towards the dark side can be a strong advantage. It allows you to sense the presence of evil more easily and over greater distances than other Jedi. Tell me, do you sense the dark side at work here on Cabellar?"
"No. There are neither dark side Force users nor a locus of power for the dark side that I can sense. The source of evil on Cabellar is the usual sort found within most sentient beings, and yet…"
"Yet what?"
"All during this trip I have felt as if I were coming closer to a dark side presence, a threat. I was certain we would find it here, but when we arrived, I discovered my intuition in error. I occasionally receive hints that it is out there somewhere, perhaps within the Outer Rim or the Unknown Regions. I can't be more precise. It is veiled most of the time and nebulous when it does manifest itself."
"The Unknown Regions."
Manus considered the possibility that no Jedi dared contemplate.
"Do you think this source could be in the Union? Is it possible there is a Sith conspiracy at work here, or perhaps another dark side cult? That might explain the sudden cohesion within the Union and their carefully orchestrated battle plans. The Outworlds have never been organized or cooperative beyond what is necessary for trade. Founded by people desiring independence, they have spent the last century fighting each other as often as the pirates. Adopting the title of "The Union" is the most improbable event this century."
"Surely the Sith cult was destroyed forever at the last battle of Ruusan."
"Some think maybe not. Perhaps one survived, and even if one didn't what is there to stop any misguided fool from rebuilding the cult again? It would only take an affinity for the Force and the desire to do evil."
"Which of their leaders do you suspect, Master? There are many in positions of power within the Union: Admiral Slaboch, Supreme Commander Coir, President Walflechii, Mearganta…"
Manus laughed at the mention of Mearganta's name coincident with the concept of a conspiracy so clever.
"That fool? He has done us many favors by systematically organizing and destroying fleets pointlessly in hopeless battles. Mearganta is the most easily predictable fleet commander in the history of the galaxy. I can't believe that anyone brilliant enough to unite the Outworlds could play such an utter idiot for so long. No. It must be someone else. It could be anyone near the seat of power. The Sith could even be someone not directly in power and simply manipulating the others while remaining wholly anonymous to us. So much uncertainty."
"We need more spies in Union space. We need Jedi in Union space."
"That has been attempted already with no success, and the risk is too great to try again. The Grand Council is right to have forbidden it. If discovered, the Unknowns would see it as intrusion into their territory and consider it an act of war. It is hard enough to justify our presence here in the neutral space of the Outer Rim, so we must pretend to be traders in public and dress in these ridiculous costumes…"
Manus paused.
"Someone is coming. An exemplar of Ashla you may be, but your visage confuses those who judge appearances. You are too memorable to let just anyone see you, especially with so few of your race wandering about the galaxy. Cover yourself."
Hanlah pulled the hood of her cape far forward over her head to conceal her face and wrapped the garment about her body to mask her bone spurs. The door opened, and a large human male with a muscular physique steadily going to fat entered. Sweeping into the room grandly, he was akin to an actor taking the stage. Bright red hair was slicked down about his head until it met his shoulders where it curled upward again like a wave crashing on a beach. His beard and mustache were similarly colored and waxed into bizarre loops and curls.
Recognizing him instantly from briefing vids, Manus and Hanlah bowed slightly to the Pirate King, Brenin Morleider. His acknowledgment was loud and jovial.
"Ah, my generous Republic benefactors. Here with more ships and sage Jedi advice, eh?"
Never pausing to greet either of them with anything more than a casual wave of his chubby hand, he continued across the room, only stopping when he reached a bare paneled section of the wall. With some swift motions activating hidden sensors, the wall transformed into a bar, from which he retrieved three small glasses and a clear bottle filled with a pearlescent fluid.
"Will you drink with me to toast our upcoming success against the, Union? I have here the finest Cantonican cactus liqueur. Nothing is too good for my Jedi allies."
Manus feigned ignorance.
"Jedi? What do you mean by that, Your Majesty? We are but traders..."
The pirate's smile never faltered, but his tone hardened subtly.
"I am not a fool, Jedi. Please don't treat me as such. My secret police are reasonably competent and capable of screening and identifying all who wish to approach me, and my spies have provided me with your real names and rank within the Jedi order. I find it helpful to know when the true rulers of the Republic are coming."
"You have spies in the Republic?"
"Of course, as does the Republic here in the Rim. We are all friends. Friends spy on each other. How else could they remain friends without knowing the other's true intentions, eh? It's a game, you know. A game of technology and good old-fashioned dirty tricks. Personally, I prefer the dirty tricks. They are more reliable than technology. Bribery, drugs, sex, and intimidation work wonders at loosening tongues and learning secrets. Simple things really, but effective."
Morleider shifted his gaze to Hanlah giving her a crafty smile.
"Although, I must admit, the personal camouflage shield your hooded friend here used when entering the system was very effective and likely would have passed our normal screening. A very sophisticated device. Perhaps you would care to share this technology with us as part our continuing partnership, eh?"
This last question was directed at Hanlah. The cloaking mechanism in question was of her own design and manufacture. Hanlah was an engineering and technology savant who spent much of her personal time tinkering with gadgets to further the Jedi cause. This particular device not only deployed a holographic veneer simulating whatever form she wanted, but to fool security sniffers, it released synthetic DNA matched to whatever persona she adopted.
Facilitating travel in places where her appearance would draw undue attention, it was not foolproof against a particularly deep scan, so she had abandoned it for the more simple cloth cloak before entering the Grand Forum. As Brenin had so brashly proclaimed, sometimes the simple tricks are best.
Despite the accuracy of the fat pirate's statements, Hanlah kept her silence refusing to admit to or deny the device in question. Confronted with her implacability, Morleider shrugged.
"No? 'Tis no matter then."
Waving the bottle about in dismissal, the thick liquid sloshed and the gaudy rings on his fingers clacked against the glass reminding him of his thirst. He set the three tumblers down on a small, round table and poured them each a drink.
"I would like to make a toast to the upcoming defeat of the Union. Come. Drink with me, or are Jedi forbidden such decadent temptations?"
Making no move to accept the glass the pirate held forth, Manus replied politely.
"We are not forbidden alcohol, but we imbibe seldom. It clouds the mind and fosters passion. Passion leads to the dark side."
"Surely one drink won't turn you both? One drink with a fat, old pirate is all I ask."
Getting nowhere with Manus, Morleider turned to Hanlah.
"And how about you, Ms. Aka? Will you help me celebrate? I am told that you are a woman under all those robes. Perhaps you would share a drink and provide some comfort to this dashing pirate, eh?"
Hanlah withdrew the hood to expose her face and head. Brenin took half a step back, perhaps in shock, perhaps in admiration. Hanlah could not tell.
"A moment ago you described yourself as old and fat," she accused. "Now you are dashing. Which is it?"
"Ho! Ho! Your padawan has quite the tongue in her mouth, Jedi Olcan. For you, my dear, I can be both or whatever else you like. My spies descriptions of you did you no justice. You are much more beautiful in person."
"Charming," Hanlah replied sarcastically.
"A drink," he urged again.
"As my master correctly stated, we are not forbidden to drink alcohol. However, I have taken a personal vow of complete abstinence. I think that even if I were to drink, you might be the last sentient being in the galaxy with which I would share that dubious pleasure."
"Snap! She has both a tongue that lashes and teeth that bite. You could make an excellent pirate queen, my dear. The position happens to be open at the moment..."
Manus snatched the drink from the pirate's hand.
"I will drink a toast with you, Morleider, on one condition."
Surprised, Brenin was nevertheless pleased with the Jedi's acquiescence.
"What condition? Name it, sir."
"Explain to me why you think you are on the verge of victory against the Union. The Republic is well aware of the recent disastrous campaign you have waged in which the Union has won nearly every battle. You have lost so many ships, that without the Republic providing constant replacements, you wouldn't even be able to conduct your normal "business" of raiding their worlds. Rather than destabilizing the Union, as was our agreement, they have become stronger than ever. Explain how you plan to overcome incompetent generalship and achieve victory so suddenly."
Brenin bristled at Olcan's critique.
"Disastrous campaign? Incompetent generalship? You wound me, Jedi Olcan. I admit that the Union has lately proven to be more clever than I thought possible. Admiral Slaboch and Supreme Commander Coir have vexed us surely. Our usual tactics and the generous use of technologically advanced Republic ships have not had the results we sought. That is why I have fallen back upon more tried and true methods. Those simple tactics I discussed earlier are going to allow us to crush the Union forever. Now let's drink to that."
Manus stood immobile with his glass held at waist level.
"I am listening still but not drinking yet. Explain better."
Brenin sighed and moved his drink, untasted, away from his lips with reluctance.
"Jedi are so tiresome. Fine. Have it your way."
He sat heavily down on the couch adjacent to the table, drained his drink anyway, and poured himself a second.
"Admiral Slaboch and Supreme Commander Coir have made a grave mistake. My informants tell me that all of their ships have gathered into a single fleet and entered hyperspace destined for a location unknown. To keep it so secret, the system must have been divulged only to a few, but I have come to know the Union's mind. They seek to conquer us and rule the Rim. I have suspected since I first received these reports that their ultimate destination is here at Cabellar."
"Then your job is easy," said Manus. "You need only wait for them and destroy them with your superior fleet and planetary defenses."
The fat pirate downed his second drink and laughed as he poured a third.
"And that would be a reasonable strategy, if I didn't know where their fleet was assembling prior to their planned invasion."
"How do you know that?"
"Isn't it obvious? Ha! You Jedi rely too much on your honor and your do-gooder ways. Bribery. Sex. Extortion. These tools you disdain have provided me the name of the system where my foes will be organizing and laying unprepared for our sudden assault. A surprise attack by us will vastly reduce our losses compared to your strategy of waiting for them to come here when they are battle ready. Not to mention that we will avoid the ignominy of having our capital under siege."
Brenin rose to his feet and held out his third drink towards Manus.
"I have upheld my part of the bargain, Jedi. I told you what you wanted to know. Now you honor your promise and drink with me."
Manus' eyes narrowed and his scowl deepened, but he tipped his glass slightly towards Brenin in salute. The pirate smiled.
"To victory!"
Manus remained silent, refusing to give voice to a toast that he considered unlikely. He swallowed the potent liquor in one gulp as Brenin mimicked his action.
The pirate reached for the bottle to refill their glasses, but the Jedi levitated it to the bar before the pirate's fleshy hand could touch it. Shrugging his shoulders in defeat, Brenin placed his empty tumbler on the table.
"Speechless, eh, Jedi? Overcome by my cleverness that accomplished what your subtle planning and magical powers could not? Would you like to know the name of the system where we will crush the Union forever?"
"The name is irrelevant, since you will not take your fleet there. It is a trap."
The pirate's jovial smile and pleasant demeanor vanished, replaced by anger as his face reddened to match his coiffure. He waved his arms about aggressively as he shouted.
"You dare to tell me when and where to deploy my fleet!? The breadth of your Jedi arrogance and impertinence is astounding!"
Manus was not intimidated by this tirade.
"Not as astounding as the breadth of your stupidity. Do you really believe that Coir and Slaboch have suddenly become fools like you? They have outsmarted you at every turn, and now they are playing you one last time. It must be a trap. You will keep your fleet here in the Cabellar system or risk annihilation."
On the verge of exploding into violence or possibly an apoplectic fit, Brenin's rage faded quickly replaced by a suspicious glare.
"Do not attempt your mind tricks on me, Jedi. I am made of stronger stuff than that. One does not become king of the Pirate Alliance by being soft in the head or naive. It is a position gained and held by cunning and ruthless success. As you have correctly pointed out, my predecessors failed to contain the Union. That is why they are gone, and I am here. I am king because my peers know that I am treacherous and devious enough to win this war."
Normally silent in deference to her master, Hanlah was unable to contain herself.
"You have no idea of the subtle and patient force that lies behind the Union. I have sensed..."
A curt gesture from Manus silenced her, but Brenin guessed the rest of her thought and laughed.
"You Jedi are too caught up in your own paranoia over dark side conspiracies and the power of your magical Force. The galaxy operates at a baser level than that. The source I corrupted is very close to Coir, and the intelligence provided by that source has proven accurate. Probes have just returned from Risi with proof that the Union fleet is in orbit about the old mining colony planet. The representatives of all the pirate worlds are assembling in the Forum as we speak. Our navy is ready. I shall address the Assembly with this intelligence and win approval for this action. Will you attempt to stop me, Master Olcan?"
"Yes."
"How?"
"Let me address the Forum and reason with them. You enjoy the facade of democracy. Let us debate this openly in front of your so called Confederation."
Benin scratched at his extra chins beneath his meticulously manicured beard. He glanced suspiciously between Manus and Hanlah before smiling wickedly and rubbing his bejeweled hands together.
"Very well, Jedi. I agree. Please do not take it too hard when you lose. Come! It is time."
Hanlah hurried to keep pace with her master as Manus' long legs carried him up the last of the stairs and out of the Forum. The raucous cheering of the pirate assembly drove him forward like a violent tail wind.
They had not listened to him. Their desire for easy victory to overturn past humiliation combined with a sense of pride that would not tolerate Union ships near Cabellar were masterfully manipulated by Brenin. Manus had been duped by the pirate king into making a public disgrace of himself. Being correct and yet still losing was a foul and bitter experience. The roar of numerous ships lifting off from the distant spaceport to join the fleet on its way to Blayne's End was a humiliating crescendo.
Manus paused in the marble entryway that ringed the bowl-shaped forum. Light from the setting sun stabbed between columns supporting the edge of the great dome. Illuminated by the ruddy glow, he brooded in silence.
"Do we return to the Republic now, Master?" asked Hanlah.
"No. There still may be a chance to stave off complete defeat. I want you to go down to the city, find their defense command center, and help however you can to make them as effective as possible. They must be made ready."
"What will you do, Master?"
"I will remain here. I am beginning to sense what you sense, padawan. Something dark and dangerous is coming, and I believe it will be attracted to this locus of power. It will not be satisfied until it rules here. I will stop it when it tries. Then, when Brenin is cast out for his folly, I will take his place and use the pirates as they should be used to finally crush the Union."
To Hanlah, her master's chosen course led dangerously towards the dark side, but she dared not confront Manus after the ridicule he had recently suffered before the pirate congress. After the battle, if they survived, she would work to dissuade him from seizing power to achieve his goals.
"Yes, Master. I shall do my best."