As the Temperance, a Councilor class corvette carries us through hyperspace towards the Rim my main thought is not on the hows and whys of what I am attempting but rather on which member of Mystery Inc. I am. I mean, I am in charge and all. Still, Alek's the better pilot. I also have demonstrated a talent for tripping over trouble. Dammit, am I Shaggy?
Does this mean when we confront Mandalore he's going to turn out to be an old man in a mask out for some insurance fraud? I wish. This is a pretty forlorn hope. 'Excuse me Space Vikings, can you please not raid the relatively unprotected planets that lie Coreward of you?' Maybe if I offer some cream with jam on top?
"Are we really searching for Sith?" comes Surik's voice.
I look up. I'm in a small ship with an avatar of keen enthusiasm. She could be the poster child for the Jedi Order. She's not wrong either. While there isn't a Sith behind every bad thing in the Galaxy, the Mandalorians are usually a safe bet.
"The Sith are still recovering from the last war. They would not be so bold as to act so soon," says Tamman.
"Maybe, maybe not. The last war was costly. The Jedi have not recovered. Historically, we are at an all-time low in numbers. We ideally need a century or three of peace to recover and this would be a good time to act." I say.
"But the Sith were defeated," says Tamman.
"The Sith are an idea. We could put every single Sith to the sabre, destroy every record and Holocron and still some daft bugger could reinvent it." I say.
"You can't believe that," says Tamman.
"Why not? Religions are incredibly hard to eradicate. If it's any consolation it means the Jedi will be just as enduring." I say.
"So, you're saying that the battle is never-ending?" says Surik.
"There's no easy solution. The Dark Side is fueled by a set of drives common to almost all sentient species." I say.
"You think the Dark Side is natural?" asks Surik.
"What are you saying Surik?" growls Tamman.
"Just getting a feel for everyone and asking questions. It's a Padawan thing, remember?" chirps Surik.
"Sounds like you think Revan's a Dualist. Are you spying for Kavarr?" says Tamman.
Name an interpretation on the Force back home, it's a religious viewpoint. Currently, the orthodox view is that the Dark Side is a manifest corruption to the Force. There is no 'light side'. Dualism, or the Taoism lite view back home is, while not heresy with a capital H, is grounds for not going anywhere until you give up on such nonsense.
"Tamman, relax. She's just curious, that's all. And no, I'm no Dualist. The Dark Side is an aberration, a corruption of the natural order as represented by the Force." I say.
"Oh, good," says Surik. There is a pause, she smiles and then rises. "I'll just go check on the others," she says before leaving the small common room.
"I don't trust her. She's always sticking her nose into everything, always asking questions," says Tamman.
"So? She's just enthusiastic and keen. Not bad qualities in a Jedi." I say.
"She practically accused you of heresy. She cornered me last shift in the fresher wanting to know if we were still an item," says Tamman.
"Well, at least you set her straight there. Just good friends. We are that, right?" I say.
"Yes, sure, whatever," she says.
That's no.
"So, what are you feeling," I say.
"I don't know. I like you Revan, a lot. We became Jedi together. I know, once we are both Knights that we'll be called away and will probably never see each other. I, just, don't want to." she confesses.
Our hands meet. Tamman is beautiful, engaging, intelligent and more importantly, my equal in the Force.
"Once you're a Knight as well, you will see things differently. Our service to the Force..." I begin in an attempt to defuse this.
"Isn't something I chose myself. I know it is a great honour and privilege, but shouldn't I get a choice too?" says Tamman along with almost every apprentice ever.
This is of course quite normal. The Jedi Order keeps everyone capable of twisting the Galaxy round their little finger mostly locked down as contemplative monks. The whole 'Guardians of Peace and Justice' is more safety valve than anything as is 'we're only sort of celibate'. Which means many have a pre-knighting crisis of faith. Made even harder for humans who tend to find their first friend with benefits at the same time.
"Think of what we have talked of together. Your ambitions. You will make an excellent head of the order." I say.
"Yes, you're right. I do want that," says Tamman. She tilts her head. "What is it you want?" she adds.
To not cause the near extinction of the Jedi and put everything in the hands of Miss Way Too Keen Right Now. Which buggers my friend's plans too. So my goals have not exactly been shared as such.
"Oh, you know. To be a stalwart defender of truth and justice. Knight Revan, that's me." I say.
"Seems like you already have that. There's really nothing else?" Tamman asks.
"When you come into the Force fully, you will see." I say.
Tamman rises and makes to leave. "Thank you, friend," she says.
"No problem," I reply.
Surik corners me the next ship day as I'm working on the astromechs. The ship has two and they see mostly to minor maintenance and perform most of the EVAs. Just like in the movies, they're all kind of quirky, a result of butting up against the limits between 'clever machine' and actual AI. It pays to get on their good sides.
"You really are good with machines," she says after watching for a few beats.
"It's a talent and a useful one at that. Never dismiss our more mundane abilities, we are more than just wielders of the Force." I say.
"Yes, of course. Um, I wanted to apologise. About yesterday. I didn't mean to accuse you of anything." Surik stammers.
"No offence was taken. And your question was pertinent. We should keep an eye out for the Sith." I say.
"You're not what I expected," says Surik.
What? "Excuse me?" I say.
Surik pauses, hand to her mouth. Eventually, she rallies.
"You're not what I thought an academic Jedi would be like. You're more like a Guardian. Kavarr thought you odd too. He mentioned it often." says Surik.
"I may have spent most of my apprenticeship at Temple, but I can assure you I did not stint on physical training. After all, here I am now." I say.
Surik looks about to say something else but decides not to. "Oh, okay. Well, we're good?"
"Yeah, we're good," I say as Surik leaves. Okay, that was weird. Then again I do work for weird space monk central. Acting normal is probably suspicious behaviour. I go back to giving the droid a check-up.
A few days later I am ambling through some sleepy town abutting a starport. Mainly to stretch my legs. The Temperance is comfy and all, but rather cramped. So I went for a walk. The buildings, for the most part, look made from sandstone with the odd ultra-tech fixture. While dryer than what I am used to the surrounding areas are green farmland currently being harvested by hulking agrodroids. If I squint, ignore the fact that not everyone here is human and that the farm machinery is self-piloted I could be home.
Is there a way back? The E.T. aliens cameo in TPM suggests, maybe? Still, there's that long, long, time ago thing and I am even earlier than that. I stand a good chance of being able to return to an Earth where fire and the dog were considered cutting edge. As opposed to here where you can shower and clean your clothes at the same time and interstellar jaunts are just a thing. Also pizza. It's such a commonality that it's regarded as the unofficial hallmark of sapience. Communicate, make a fire, use that fire to make a pizza. I wonder what Piper would have said to that? Speaking of pizza.
My perambulations have led me to a market. Stalls line the streets, which are crowded with sentients buying, selling and shouting at each other. My attention is drawn to a blue-green humanoid who sells me something large with a pile of cheese, meat and a few concessions to the vegetable kingdom on top. I wander away from the stall and concentrate on getting the thing into my mouth as opposed to the ground or my clothes. I am so distracted with the delicious mess that I miss that the street is suddenly void of people and that the stalls are all folding up, their owners cowering behind them for cover.
"Hey you, idiot. Can't you hear me?" comes a shout.
I look up, still dribbling cheese from my mouth. My first impression is biker gang. Of course, none of the bikes have wheels, but otherwise, yeah. The sort of hard-wearing clothing you wear for a bike, also gang markings, badges, and weapons. They're a lot more heavily armed than the local Harley Club back home. Of course, I'm not home. I'm in the universe of genre conventions. The local gang has ridden in to extort the locals and run into some otherwise clueless drifter who doesn't know how to kowtow. How to do this?
"Sorry, sorry, just walking and eating here, take your time, won't be long." I say. Telekinetically, I unclip my lightsabre because I'll be needing it in a hurry.
Lead ganger reaches behind him and pulls out what looks like a shotgun? He levels it at me, pulls the trigger.
There is a flash of blue as my lightsabre ignites and parries the blast into the air. Of course, to do that I had to let go of lunch. As the scream of the blaster shot dies away it becomes apparent where the pizza ended up. The ganger wipes my pizza from his face. His companions draw weapons and point them at me.
"That was my best jacket!" roars the ganger.
"And that, was, my, pizza!" I yell back.
There is a pregnant pause, that I make use of to sense the connections all things have in the Force. The gangers and the starport are both parts of the wider whole. Connections, relationships, causes and effects all criss-cross one another like an overly complicated cat's cradle.
"Why ain't no one firing?" roars the ganger.
"Why ain't you?" says another.
"Perhaps I can assist. I am Revan, Jedi Knight. Now you may be wondering. There are six of you and one of me. Now, how many blasters can I deflect at once? Is it five, or six? I'm not so sure myself. So, gentle beings it is up to you. Do you feel lucky? Well, do you?" I say.
There is another pause. Then the gangers rev their bikes and turn to go back the way they came.
"Next time, we'll bring more, a lot more Jedi." says the lead ganger. It would have been a lot more intimidating if he wasn't still dripping sauce everywhere. He then drives off.
The townsfolk re-emerge from where they had been taking cover.
"Thank you, but he's right. They'll be back with more." says one.
"Well then, I shall get my companions," I reply before inquiring about another pizza.
We're not quite the requisite seven, yet. Guess it will have to do.