Chapter 3 The Journey
"Is it safe to assume that you don't know much about the Republic then?" Quorian asked, settling his body a bit more so he wasn't quite so hunched. I tucked my knees up to my chest to give him some more room.
"Just what everybody says, but I don't know how much of it's true," I replied. "Things like, 'the Republic is entirely driven by greed and ambition' and that 'money is the most important thing', so politicians are bribed and bought and sold to companies and governments. The Republic doesn't take care of its citizens; people regularly starve to death or are driven to sell themselves into debt to get food or housing or medical care." The jedi watched me intently, so I kept going. "That slavery is illegal, but the powerful and the rich have slaves anyways, or at least, slaves in everything but name. That the governments just argue and never do anything to help people. That normal Republic citizens live in chaos, struggling just to make it to the next day."
"Well, that's definitely not true, or at least not broadly true," mused Quorian when I finished. "All of what you name has definitely occurred within the Republic, but it's the exception, not the rule. The Republic tries to allow each planet to govern itself independently, but it has broad principles that its members agree to abide by. It is agreed that slavery is wrong and not to be tolerated. It is agreed that the poor and sick are to be offered assistance. It is agreed that citizens may travel and immigrate within the laws that individual member planets set.
"Of course," he continued. "There are always people who try to work within or around the laws to take advantage of others, but that is not normal, nor is it looked upon favorably."
"And the Jedi?" I asked. "How do they fit into this?"
"We're peacekeepers," he said. "We study the will of the Force and train to better follow its guidance. When people need our help, we try to assist in achieving the best possible resolution for everyone involved."
"And you think that I can do that?" I asked. He nodded. "What if I can't?"
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"What if I'm not good enough or if using the dark side has ruined me or something?" I blurted. I probably should've said this earlier, I mused, before we were crammed in a smuggling compartment and leaving Korriban entirely. "What will they do with me? If I'm not able to be a Jedi?"
"If that's the case, or if you simply decide that the training is not for you, then you can simply leave if you want," Quorian said. "Not everyone is powerful enough to become a Jedi. A lot of force-sensitives that don't train to be Jedi end up in jobs where being force-sensitive is an asset, like piloting or security or stuff." He tipped his head a bit, and I felt the tension leave his body. The whirring of the ship's engines changed again to a low, subtle throbbing pulse that rattled in my chest. A few seconds later, the ceiling clicked open.
"Alright lovebirds, come on out," said the pilot jovially. He had removed his helmet, and his bald head seemed at odds with the beard that was carefully braided and tucked into his vest. I hopped out of the compartment and awkwardly smoothed my fur, pretending not to notice how difficult it was for Quorian to climb out with one bandaged arm tucked tightly against his chest. "Make yourselves comfy. We got a bunch more hops until we get to where we're goin'." He pointed us into a small gathering room with a tiny galley and a few seats, and left us alone again.
"I thank you," Quorian called after him.
"No thanks needed, credits are fine," came the laughing response.
Quorian rehydrated some meals for us-a bowl of some flavored grain with protein cubes and a starchy green vegetable that had seen better days, but I wasn't exactly picky with what I ate. Then we sat. Quorian was falling asleep on his feet, so I let him take the bench and I contented myself with a padded armchair that was practically taller than I was.
"Hey Acolyte?" asked Quorian drowsily. "Have you picked a name yet?"
"I..."
"You don't have to change it if you don't want to," he said, a yawn splitting his sentence in half. "But back in the jail you said that you wanted to pick something new, so if you think of one, let me know."
"Mayet," I said quietly.
"What?"
"My name is Mayet," I said louder.
"I like it," he said, giving me a smile. "Mayet. It's nice to meet you."
When we had landed at the commercial spaceport, the smuggler had dropped us off in the designated hanger and left directly after refueling. I was dazzled by the number of flashing lights and signs that lined what seemed like every inch of wall space. The jedi and I had made our way to some security checkpoint, where I had to wait uncomfortably while the security personnel contacted his jedi masters to get us some help and to figure out a way to get me approval to travel through customs. It wasn't like I had an Imperial ID chit from my time as a slave, after all, and I hadn't exactly received permission to leave Korriban.
"It'll be taken care of," Quorian had assured me as we sat in uncomfortable chairs in the security office.
"What good is being a Jedi, anyways, if you don't have any power?" I finally burst out, when we had waited for more than fifteen minutes.
"What do you mean?" he asked, a gentle sort of kindness tempering the confusion in his voice.
"I mean, this!" I gestured around the office. "Why are we even sitting here? Don't Jedi have any authority? Doesn't the Republic respect your power?" He instantly understood what I meant.
"Certainly," he said, after a pause to choose his words. "But we try to respect the Republic's and local leaders' authority over just exerting and taking advantage of our power in the Force. Within the Republic, in theory, we have no rank or position-we're merely a religious group that is occasionally asked to assist in matters requiring a delicate touch or our particular abilities. In practice, the Jedi Order has a lot of authority with the Republic, to the extent that the governments are very hesitant to interfere in the Jedi Order's affairs. The Chancellor includes us in his budget, and in exchange, the Jedi assist the Republic Senate and Supreme Chancellor in helping maintain peace and freedom in the Galaxy. People treat us with a lot of deference, and we try to be mindful in how we act and treat others."
"Don't you get tired of bowing to trash, though?" I asked. I was getting used to the way Quorian thought about his positions before he spoke them aloud, but this time he paused longer than usual. I recognized that he was upset.
"Is that how you used to see yourself?" he asked finally. "As trash? Is that how Sith refer to others?" I shrugged uncomfortably, and he understood it as the agreement it was.
"I wouldn't call most other beings trash," he said. "Jedi don't think of non-force-sensitives as lesser, or at least, we're not supposed to. I think that most people have other qualities, not necessarily things that make them what you might consider strong or powerful, that make them intrinsically valuable. There have been occasions where I become frustrated by the actions of selfish, greedy individuals, of course. I don't like the way that corrupt or malicious individuals take advantage of systems to further their own goals at the expense of others." He wet his lips, and I noticed that they were cracked and sore from the dry climate of Korriban. "But as a Jedi, I can work towards helping others, pushing towards a future where all beings are treated with the dignity and respect that they inherently deserve." He glanced at the door.
"They're coming to get us," he said. "See? That wasn't too bad."
And it wasn't. The Security Officers, who previously had been apologetically stubborn in their refusal to let me through, now seemed eager to help as they escorted us through the spaceport to the central hub, where a gruff medic applied a fresh coat of kolto and a medstim to Quorian's arm. After making a quiet call on their secure holoterminal, which despite my best efforts, I was unable to overhear, Quorian allowed them to lead us to another nearby hanger, where a sleek starship waited to take us to the Jedi Academy on some other planet. My jedi companion accepted their assistance with gracious sincerity, and I just trailed along behind, trying not to draw attention to myself. Soon we were seated in a new lounge as the starship engine roared into life, taking us into hyperspace and even deeper into Republic Space. Quorian was asleep again.
What if he's lying? I'd had the thought before, but it was louder now, the closer we got to the Jedi stronghold. What if he's trying to get revenge on you? He didn't ask you to come with him until he realized you'd set him up. What if the Jedi want to punish you for the things the Sith have done to him?
But I knew that wasn't true. I'd sensed it through the Force. My whole life, I'd been very sensitive to the emotions and even thoughts of others. Now, with a couple months of training at the Sith Academy under my belt, I knew it was the Force that had made me that way, and I'd even learned to direct it to a decent degree. Quorian, for all of his crazy talk of service and peace and forgiveness, actually meant those things. Half insane with psychotropics and stimulants and sedatives, his mind practically screamed his thoughts and emotions. Now that the drugs had almost entirely left his system, his thoughts were quieter, but he didn't seem to be making any effort to shield them from me. He sincerely thought I could be a Jedi, and although I knew from my time as a slave that hoping for better things was dangerous, now that the hope of a better future had grabbed my imagination, I couldn't stop wondering, daydreaming even, about what my life might be like.