Syzygy

Personal Log, CT-1139

19 BBY

It was supposed to be easy.

That's what the Makers designed us to believe, anyways. That's what they had us spend all those days on Kamino training for. That's what they made sure all those nights in the barracks were spent dreaming of. They said that we would know when it was time. They said that when it was time we would be ready, that we were born ready.

It was never the killing that seemed to bother me. The killing had always felt right. Three years of war made sure of that. I had lost count of the insurgents, the 'revolutionaries'. There wasn't a number high enough for the droids. We had gotten so efficient with them that we could predict the number of bolts that would hit the ground before the plasma was even done frying. Droids weren't enough though, droids were too easy.

By the time the sieges began in the Outer Rim we knew it was coming, knew the order was a comm relay away. We knew all along and we still weren't ready.

Because in that moment the Republic wasn't asking us to be soldiers. They were asking us to be executioners.

But when Order 66 came down we did what we were asked. We did it because they promised it would be easy. Because they promised it was the right thing to do. Because they told us we were still soldiers, and we still had a job to do. So we listened.

Personal Log, Sors Bandeam

19 BBY

There is no death, there is only the Force.

So the Code tells us, anyways.

As we huddle together in the Council chambers now, bunkered under chairs and tables, I know the Code is a lie. I know that death is all around us.

The Masters tell us to stay calm though, tell us to stay hidden. They tell us that the Force is right and we are wrong. They tell us that there is peace as the guards are being slaughtered. They tell us there is knowledge as the archives are being burnt. They tell us there is serenity as soldiers turn against their leaders. They tell us there is harmony as all the galaxy is crumbling.

And the Code tells us there is the Force. So we listen.

. . .

Coruscant

24 ABY

The Jedi ruins were warm that day, warmer than they had been in decades.

Sunlight shimmered through the gaps in the ceiling, casting long shadows over the cross-hatch of vines that now lined the walls. Two men lay nestled in the chamber within, in the heart of what had once been a temple. They sat cross-legged, their robes trailing over the stony floors. Before them was a Holoplayer, its radio crumpling static after transmitting a day's worth of audio logs. The elder of the two finally pulled at the machine's switch, shuttering the static back to silence.

After awhile the student shifted uncomfortably, opting to break their vigil. "You never told me Grandfather killed them..."

"Well, he did," the teacher acknowledged bluntly, hand rubbing over his whiskers. "All of them. He had them pitted against each other. Soldier against soldier, brother against brother."

As the gravity of the situation hit the student he found himself shaking his head in disgust. "How could the Force just let that happen? Just let them massacre each other like that?"

The older man gave a sullen chuckle. "If after hundreds of generations of Jedi we're still making the same mistakes we always have, maybe it's just us that's the problem, not the Force."

The growing cynicism was never lost on the student, he figured it best to change the subject."So... What do we do now?"

"Now we burn them," the elder acknowledged with a sigh, gesturing to the stack of audio logs.

"What? But all this knowledge-"

"Was a beacon of all of this destruction. An encapsulation of a legacy that still resonates today. A legacy of failure. The galaxy doesn't need anymore reasons to hate the Jedi. We don't need anymore reasons to hate what the Empire did. "

"Not so long ago you told me that everyone was worth saving. If we destroy this it would be like destroying an entire generation's worth of people, pretending like they never existed."

"Yes, everyone. People are worth saving, not the creeds they followed. Not the beliefs they were raised in. Ignorance is the price we have to pay for the choices that were made before us."

The elder could tell that his student was shrugging him off, that he was still not convinced. Slowly, he allowed a hand to drift over his nephew's shoulder, metallic in its grip. "Ben, I've watched these records over and over again. I've sat here and listened to a hundred firsthand accounts just like that. I watched them knowing that the Jedi were the architects of their own demise. I watched knowing my father had them executed en masse, that he had his soldiers burn the bodies. I watched all along and knew that we couldn't let it happen again."

Finally, Ben conceded. Because, just like all the others that came before, his Uncle claimed to know what was right. Because his Uncle claimed to know what was best. Because even if Ben didn't understand now maybe one day he would come to.

So he listened.

End