Chapter Eleven: Redemption
When Master Alas Czerka had resigned his position on the Council. He'd been hoping to be given a new assignment. Stellan, Loden, and even Lonna had been given assignments on different hotspots. Usually, they were focused on quieting the local population's anger—that or restoring peace in some way.
However, Alas had been brusquely told to wait in the Temple for further orders. He had been doing that for weeks. Those weeks had been... less than productive. He'd spent a great deal of time trying to brush up on his saber skills, but no one would spar with him. He'd tried reading the histories of the order, but the librarian had been less than helpful.
All attempts to request some sort of responsibility had been flatly denied.
Alas supposed he didn't blame them. He hadn't exactly been the most pleasant company during his time on the Jedi Council. And he had gotten caught redhanded slaving. Then again, it wasn't as if he was doing anything everyone else wasn't doing. All of the Jedi had known what he was up to; they'd just turned a blind eye to it for fear of the nobility.
But, he was the scapegoat.
Now, as Alas sat within the halls of meditation, he attempted to center himself, to learn what he needed to do. He'd studied some of the order's old lessons, and they'd told him to be calm and see the proper path. Unfortunately, he had nothing.
Standing up, Alas gave up.
Walking out of the meditation room, he walked into the hall. Through a window, he looked out over the cityscape of Coruscant. Even now, it was being rebuilt, and the setting sun in the distance was quite beautiful. But, Alas could hardly appreciate any of it.
He was bored, bored, and angry, and in need of guidance.
Turning, Alas looked up to see Master Zhar speaking with a padawan. He'd spent the last few weeks overhauling the training regime for the padawans. A lot of the brats of the Jedi were having a hard dose of reality. Vrook and Zhar were a lot harsher with them than they had been on Dantooine with Alas and the others.
Then again, Alas and the others hadn't turned out so well.
Still, he needed guidance on this, and Zhar was really the only one available. Alas approached him. As the padawan left, Zhar proceeded to brush past Alas, pretending not to see him.
"Master Zhar?" said Alas quickly. "Can I speak to you?"
"Master Alas Czerka, I'm afraid I don't have time to speak at the moment," said Zhar, head tails shifting. "Perhaps sometime later."
"You said that the last three times," said Alas. This wasn't the first time he'd tried to talk to him.
"Perhaps you should try again," said Zhar, voice cold. "Patience is part of the Jedi Code."
"I need your advice," said Alas, trying not to let his emotions show.
"If you require guidance, perhaps you could go to Master Vrook," said Zhar walking past.
"He won't even speak to me," said Alas, rushing after him. "Please, Master Zhar, I've been ordered to standby on Coruscant and wait for further orders. And I've been waiting for further orders for weeks. No one will even give me the time of day; I've been forbidden to leave the Temple.
"Stellan, Lonna, and all the rest have been given new assignments.
"You used to say that a Jedi was never alone and that we should consult the Masters when we need guidance. Well, I need guidance. The least you could do is take five minutes-"
"You aren't a Jedi, slaver," said Zhar flatly. "You, of all people, have no conception of what it means to be a Jedi. You were unworthy of your position on the Council. You are unworthy of the rank of Master, and of Knight, and of Padawan.
"You don't deserve to wear those robes, let alone a lightsaber.
"You've shamed the order by your actions, more than any of your compatriots. And yet, we cannot cast you out for fear of your father. So, we keep you here in this Temple on a permenant assignment.
"If you wish to leave, by all means, resign from the order entirely."
Alas flinched, but it was nothing he hadn't said to himself. "I know.
"I know that I am completely unworthy to bear the rank of Jedi. However, I want to make amends for what I've done."
"Is that why you went as far as Korriban?" asked Zhar. "What mission did the Sith assign you that involved such sudden humility?"
"Nothing," said Alas. "Going to Korriban was a mistake. I never entered the academy I... I met an old friend, and he talked me into going back and resigning."
"I find the idea that you have friends on Korriban entirely believable," said Zhar. "But it does not change the fact that your propaganda is even now slandering those who stopped you. Young Malak's exposure to your actions has earned him the condemnation of the news."
"The media did that on its own!" said Alas. "Father doesn't have to give them orders to cover for him; they compete for his approval. He doesn't even have to reward them anymore."
"He didn't do anything to stop it. And neither did you," said Zhar. "As for your claims that you wish to atone for your past misdeeds, I can only say that I do not believe you."
Alas shifted; he had to get some sort of lifeline. "...Give me the benefit of the doubt, at least. Just pretend you believe me, please.
"What am I supposed to do, Master Zhar? If I resign from the Jedi Order, what am I supposed to do next?"
"You could find an isolated island and contemplate what you've done," said Char.
"I've been contemplating it for weeks," said Alas. "It hadn't done anyone a lick of good, least of all me.
"How is drinking myself to death in isolation going to help fix the galaxy I helped break?"
"It would remove you from it," noted Zhar, voice cold.
Alas hadn't expected that. Had he really fallen so far that Master Zhar would prefer he kill himself? He looked over to it. "...There's a ledge over there if you want me to jump off it. Because if suicide is the only atonement-"
"That would be a very poor decision," noted Zhar. "Your death would be taken as the Jedi Council having murdered you. It would only escalate tensions and cause even more problems. Such is the damage you have done to the Jedi."
"Master Zhar..." Alas stammered. This was ridiculous. "The Order declared that Ulic Qul'droma was redeemed after he laid waste to half the galaxy. I know I'm a terrible person, but... I don't think I've done as much damage as him. How many worlds have I destroyed?
"Where do you get off proclaiming anyone can be redeemed and then shut me out.
"There has to be something I can do to help make up for the things I've done. I'm asking you to tell me what it is?"
Zhar seemed to make his point. He closed his eyes and breathed before looking up at him. "...Resign from the order, Alas.
"Go to Aluyard Czerka, your father, and convince him to halt his brutalization of the Wookies. Appeal to him to cease the arms deals and try to reign in the worst impulses of the corporation."
Alas paused and thought about what he was asking. "I can't resign from the order, Master Zhar."
"On the contrary, you can," said Zhar. "No one will stop you."
"You don't understand, I don't own my rank as Master," said Alas. "Father owns the rank as Master if I... I was able to pass off resigning from the Council as a PR move. But he'll expect me back in a position of authority.
"He's probably trying to pressure Vrook right now, even though I asked him not to.
"If I resign my position, he'll take it as ingratitude. What am I supposed to tell him?"
"That you did not deserve your rank," said Zhar. "That you had disgraced yourself and the order. And that you had chosen to take responsibility for your actions by ceding to the inevitable." His expression of cold tranquility broke a bit, and there was some level of grief. "Sometimes...
"Sometimes it is necessary for one to give up one's dreams, Alas. I know that at one time, you genuinely desired to be an upstanding member of our order. In another world, at another time, you might have been a fine Jedi. But you are not one of us, whatever your official rank. Your resignation is merely a formality.
"Master Vrook has told me in private that you will never leave this temple so long as you bear a lightsaber. And I agree with his decision. You cannot make up for your crimes without leaving your crimes behind. And one of your crimes is your status as a Jedi."
Alas felt himself nearly choke, but he forced it down. He remembered when he'd begun training, he'd dreamed of fighting Sith and saving worlds. Instead, he'd been catapulted through the ranks after a few easy missions. He'd always known he hadn't deserved the position. Perhaps that was why he'd gone into criminal activity.
"...Fine, where do I sign?" asked Alas.
"Give me your lightsaber," said Zhar.
"My lightsaber?" asked Alas. "I..." He looked to the weapon at his belt, the one he'd made himself. He'd changed it to read because he'd liked the color, but it was his.
"The lightsaber is the weapon of a Jedi," said Zhar. "You must give it up if you leave the order. Those are the traditions we hold sacred. Or do you intend to begin your quest for redemption with further disgrace?"
"Father still has his," said Alas.
"Your Father was honorable discharged. You will receive no such honor," said Zhar.
Alas drew up the lightsaber and realized he wasn't very good with it. He might have been the strongest Jedi on the Council, but Malak had fought him to a standstill. "...Whatever you say.
"I'll head out as soon as you let me."
He handed the Lightsaber to Zhar, who took it.
"I will give orders that you are to be allowed to leave the temple," said Zhar. "Though I will not be there to see you off.
"I'm certain you understand."
"Yeah, I do," said Alas. Master Zhar then moved past him, and Alas looked after him. "Master Zhar..."
"Yes?" asked Zhar, looking back.
"If I succeed... please forgive me," said Alas.
Zhar remained silent. "I will try. But that may be beyond my power."
Alas left the Jedi Temple.
No one said anything to him while he left, and as he walked down the steps, he felt only a sense he was leaving prison. One that had wanted him gone, to begin with. "So much for power," muttered Alas. "Aedal knew this was going to happen, didn't he?
"Then again, he probably saved my life.
"I wouldn't have lasted five minutes at the Sith Academy."
It was ironic that Aedal had spent the past two weeks wanting to get out of the Temple. Now, as he took an aircar to the Czerka Household, he felt bitter and empty. The building above him was crisp and white, well-maintained and polished by droids. The Czerka Corporation logo was above it, and as he took an elevator, he saw night was coming on.
For the first time, he sensed Coruscant, really sensed it. It was said among some that Coruscant was a microcosm of the galaxy.
It was hell.
Misery, squalor, out of touch elites. That and government whose ineffectiveness was matched only by its brutality. And beyond the reaches of space, horrible things waited to consume the universe. Murder and horror was the way of this universe. For every crime, the Jedi punished, dozens went by unpunished. Every person that they helped was outweighed by those who died in misery.
There were no more nations anymore. No religions or ideology that mattered. Those things, if they'd ever existed, were now just a mask. Pretty faces used to distract from rich elites. Rich elites butchered billions for money they didn't need so they could feel smug. Not that it made them feel any better. Their hedonistic pleasures were a distraction from the rot that was inside.
And, as always, there was a hunger.
The corporations hungered for more profit. They devoured world after world, life after life to that end. The politicians hungered for money and approval ratings. And to get them, they were raping and pillaging their own nation. The Mandalorians hungered for blood and death so they could feel superior. Perhaps the Mandalorians were more honest.
But in the end, the only thing that mattered was the hunger.
But the more one devoured, the greater the letdown. And now that Alas had stopped devouring things, he felt... empty. As if he'd been devouring himself as well as others. Was there really such a thing as a self within him? Or was his flesh, blood, and mask just a fleshy casing for cosmic urges that were beyond his or anyone else's control.
Life was just a series of hungers.
If you were to devour everything then, would the universe finally be brought to order?
Alas knew on some level that these were the thoughts of a madman. So he turned away from the city and to the elevator doors. At last, they stopped and opened before him. Alas walked through the door into the Czerka Families private apartments. Mother was probably out shopping, or whatever it was she did.
He'd never been of any interest to her. That was why she'd been so glad to send him to the Jedi. Moving through the halls, he saw servants waiting on hand, but he didn't feel like speaking to anyone. Going into his room, he hung up his Jedi robe and dressed in more casual ones.
Then he moved downstairs.
Alas sensed Father in the training room. Aluyard Czerka was there, holding in his hands a golden lightsaber. He wore a brown robe, and his face was serene as he performed one elaborate strike after another. Aluyard moved through his stances with a fluid grace akin to a perfect dance. The hum of his lightsaber marked his skill.
At last, Aluyard turned to Alas and sheathed his weapon. His face wore an expression of fatherly affection. "Oh, Alas, you've returned."
"Yes, Dad, I have," said Alas.
"You aren't wearing your lightsaber," said Alas. "And your footfalls were softer than normal. What have you done this time?"
Alas felt a twinge of fear at the mild tone. "I resigned from the Jedi Order?"
"You what?" asked Alas, voice quite calm.
"I didn't have a choice!" said Alas. "Vrook he... he was never going to let me out of that place.
"He'd planned to keep me there in a permenant prison."
"Do you actually believe Vrook would have had a choice?" asked Aluyard, voice faintly disapproving. "I could have gotten you your council seat back eventually. Now I'm going to have to get you back into the Jedi Order. Who was it who demanded you give up your Lightsaber?"
Alas was not going to tell Aluyard that. He didn't want someone to do reprisals on Master Zhar. "I have a plan to fix this mess we've gotten into."
Aluyard smiled and walked off the matt, levitating his lightsaber over to a rack. On it were dozens upon dozens of lightsabers. He'd killed many Sith in the Exar Kun War. "...Which mess would that be?" Aluyard took a bottle of water and drank from it, breathing deeply for focus. "The Mandalorian Wars are right on schedule. Reports are coming in from the Outer Rim of atrocities. Soon a full-scale war will begin on Onderon, and the Republic will come to their aid.
"With our contacts in the Exchange, Czerka will be in a position to sell weapons to both sides. And when the war has ended, my contacts in the Senate will award us the contracts for reconstruction."
"I meant the fact that half the galaxy got burned down in outrage," said Alas.
"Oh, that inconvenience?" asked Aluyard. "You needn't concern yourself. People aren't upset about what we were doing. They're only upset they found out what we were doing.
"The average person is only interested in living out a hedonistic lifestyle. They don't want to think or be challenged in any way. They'd rather avoid knowing, or being known too, scary people. They'll believe whatever we tell them to believe.
"Not everyone has the will to be more than average."
"Maybe, but I've been reading the holonet," said Alas. "Revan is... well, he's become very popular. An icon. I think there is a lot more anger here than you think. A lot of people are using us as a scapegoat for other problems. The evil, faceless corporation and all that."
"I presume you have a remedy," said Aluyard.
Was he accusing Alas or interested? "Yeah, a couple.
"First off, I've been reading up on our operations in Kasshyyk-"
"Edean, Alas. We renamed it, remember," said Aluyard. "Calling the name Kasshyyk implies the Wookies are intelligent. They aren't because we say they aren't. So we must name the planet ourselves.
"Proper terminology is important."
Alas nodded. "Sorry, Edean. We've been fighting a neverending war there with the wookies. Yeah, Chuundar is cooperating with us and has grown in power, but... well, nobody wants to be turned into a rug."
"The law has no power to regulate us," said Aluyard.
"Yes, but the animal rights activists are using Wookie rugs and stuff as a rallying point," said Alas. "It's giving them ammunition."
Aluyard seemed to consider it, that same serene expression on his face. "I presume you have a solution?"
"Yes, I think we should adjust our strategy," said Alas. "First, we ought to announce that we've heard what people are saying about the Wookies. We ought to pick out some of the most abusive administrators, people no one will miss. Then we prosecute them for animal abuse.
"After that, we reign in the brutality. Cut down on terror tactics and focus more on cooperation with the locals. It should be easier without atrocities.
"We also announce our intention to eventually move away from the slave trade. Instead, we pour funding into looking for medical uses for plantlife on Edean. We might get a breakthrough that could make us a lot more profits."
"Language, Alas," said Aluyard. "We sell livestock, not slaves."
"Maybe, but there's a lot of other ways to practice selling livestock," said Alas. "Edean is a rallying point for the opposition. The faster this anger dies down, the faster we can get back to business as usual. And once we've become a 'humane' slave- animal trade, we'll be able to silence our critics. We can point to how we adjusted our actions and ask if they expect us to destroy our business."
"A fair point," said Aluyard. "Do you have anything else to suggest?"
Alas considered if there was any other way he could fix this mess he'd helped to create. And one vindictive idea came to mind. "Yes.
"I think we should begin cutting the media loose."
Aluyard looked at him with faint surprise. "You want to abandon the news networks?"
"Why not?" asked Alas. "They were useful as long as they helped push our agendas. But they've gotten so detached from reality that no one believes a single word they say. Most people random, unsupported holonet posts over 'respected' news sources.
"And sometimes they are right to do so.
"Besides, the news media have hardly made any money at all for decades. We're practically keeping them on life support."
"They are useful for propaganda," said Aluyard.
"No, they're not," said Alas. "The news media doesn't actually help our case any. The fact that they are so slavishly loyal to us gives conspiracy theorists evidence. And anyway, they're dying. Pretty soon, all those networks are going to go up in flames.
"Then some new ones will grow up to replace them. It happens with businesses now and then."
"Perhaps you should define what you mean by 'cut loose?'" said Aluyard.
"Just... stop giving them special treatment," said Alas. "Don't give them any more favors.
"Let them do stories on us. Let them suck up to us all they want. But don't spend a credit more on them. All they know how to do is compete for scraps we give them. And they've more or less outlived their usefulness.
"It's not like any of them know how to do real journalism. Most of them use clickbait rumors as sources. They're no use to us, and they're no threat to us."
"Won't abandoning that part of the establishment invite reprisal?" asked Aluyard. "I've always preferred a harmonious relationship with my subjects."
"They're parasites, not predators, Dad," said Alas. "We can gradually scale down our support for them. Then we can look into other methods of controlling public opinion. It might also be wise for us to donate our personal finances to various good causes.
"If we could put money into some tax-deductible charities, we might be able to do some good. And that'll also get the Jedi off our back a bit."
"You seem to have thought this through," said Aluyard.
Alas paused and decided to come clean. "I'll level with you, Dad. I think trying to force the Jedi to take me back into the order is a bad idea. Vrook is a total zealot, and he'll fight you tooth and nail.
"On the other hand, if they think I'm redeeming myself, they might be more open to the idea.
"The absolute last thing we want, though, is the Jedi Order starting a mass investigation of Czerka. Our operations in the Outer Rim could be called treason. If combined with the recent revelations-"
"They could be very expensive to silence," mused Aluyard. "An interesting perspective. Alright then, Alas. We'll see if these ideas of yours are practical. I'll discuss the matters with my financial advisors, though I think we'll lose some money."
"We can take the hit, Dad," said Alas. "And we're about to make an absolute killing from the Mandalorian Wars. Fixing our reputation a bit will probably save us a lot of money in the long run."
"Are you trying to reform me, Alas?" asked Aluyard, looking at him.
Alas stepped back and realized he was shaking. Whenever Father looked at him with those eyes, it chilled him to his core. There was no passion in them, no heart or soul, just a pale light wearing a mask. "No... of course not.
"I just...
"I was never a very good Jedi, Dad. I completely botched it, despite you pulling strings for me. And I've done a lot to make the galaxy a worse place, despite your guidance. I just... I want to help fix the problems I created.
"For you, and for the Jedi and the galaxy.
"I think... I think these ideas might just do all three at once."
Aluyard seemed to consider it. "Good.
"I was afraid you'd let your passions get the better of you. Remember the Jedi Code; it makes for a very good guide on running a business.
"There is no emotion; there is peace.
"There is no passion; there is serenity.
"There is no ignorance; there is knowledge.
"There is no chaos; there is harmony.
"There is no death; there is the Force."
He walked past Alas. "Build a new lightsaber.
"Then start training with it.
"Make it blue. I feel a more soothing color would help with your temperament. You really too emotional about these things."
Alas nodded quickly. "...Yes, Dad."
It was only once Aluyard Czerka walked out of the room that Alas collapsed against the wall. Maybe he wasn't a Jedi, but he might be able to reign in Czerka's actions a bit. If he could just divert Father away from things...
Maybe he could restrain a different kind of world devouring monster.