Chapter 46: Aftermath (Part 3)

The views of Coruscant racing past the window staggered the imagination and chilled the soul in equal measure.

I hadn’t had the chance to truly study it last time. But now... for half an hour, we had been hurtling between colossal structures. It felt as though those monoliths could house the entire population of a capital city on some Outer Rim planet.

It was somewhat haunting to realize that everywhere the eye fell, there were sentients of every conceivable species and form. Each had their own life; each was rushing somewhere; each strove to climb as high as possible.

It was terrifying to imagine what had happened here during the Separatist attack. How many millions, if not billions, of civilians had perished in that meat grinder?

Yet now, nothing remained to remind one of those tragic events. The city’s inhabitants, like ants, had reconstructed everything, perhaps even making it better than before.

"Nasty feeling. So many living organisms. I have to dull my perception because of them." Kamma leaned back irritably into the plush chair. The speeder was definitely not a common model; evidently, our status carried some subtle perks. "I hope I won’t be summoned to Coruscant unnecessarily in the future."

"I don't think we’re in danger of that. Likely only the 'Chosen' stay close to the Emperor. That fate won't be ours anytime soon. Unless, of course, another war breaks out and we have to save everyone again."

"No thanks, I'll pass; didn't care for it. I’d rather go hunting Jedi. Somewhere on the edge of the galaxy would be just right."

"A fine plan. But there are a couple of downsides."

"And what would those be, genius?"

"No booze... and no girls."

The Pantorian sat with a glassy stare for a few minutes. Perhaps the grim reality of his deepest desires was finally sinking in.

"Set, you’re a genius. I know exactly what we’re going to do now."

"Don't tell me you’ve decided—"

"Yes, yes, yes. Let's consider it settled: this is how we’ll celebrate your release from the clutches of the doctors."

"And what about the pain?"

"Pain is my constant companion now. There’s no escaping it, so I’ll manage somehow. Besides, it gets easier every day."

Contradicting his own words, he winced almost imperceptibly.

"You know, let’s... an interesting idea just popped into my head, a way to combine business with pleasure. We just need to find an unregistered terminal for communication. Or at least one the Imperials aren't monitoring. We’re going to cut loose properly."

"Now that's what I'm talking about. I’ll start looking into it."

After that, the conversation died out naturally. For the rest of the trip, we simply watched the world go by in silence.

The most memorable sight was the current state of the Jedi Temple as we flew past. As if intentionally slowing down, the driver allowed us to see in full detail what had become of our enemies' primary sanctuary.

The once-magnificent edifice was now lost in a general shroud of grey. The walls were draped in heavy banners bearing Imperial iconography. Stormtroopers marched near the foundations.

Through the Force, the place no longer radiated grandeur. The Dark Side had crushed its opponent and receded. If you didn't know to listen closely, you might assume it was merely a derelict relic of the Force. Nothing more.

The rest of the flight was frankly boring. When we finally entered the hangar, I felt a sense of relief.

The doors slid upward, releasing us into the open.

"The Grand Inquisitor is expecting you," said a man dressed in baggy black robes that vaguely resembled Sith attire, bowing low. "After your audience, I shall escort you further."

Our guide turned and paced briskly into the depths of the building. He moved so fast that it required considerable effort not to fall behind.

"We have a long walk ahead, so I will tell you about this place. I suspect you will appear here many more times, should it be the Master's will. Here, we master the mysteries of the Dark Side."

Our expressions must have turned skeptical simultaneously. This energetic old man didn't radiate the Force. Or rather, it was there, but only that of an ordinary person.

"Yes, despite the fact that I am unfortunately not Force-sensitive, I can still study it. For in many ways, philosophy dictates how one wields their abilities. The transition to the Light or Dark Side is linked to fundamental shifts in a sentient's consciousness. There are known cases where they managed to... but I digress. In short, data from across the galaxy flows here. Our job is to structure it and find connections."

"And what exactly do you have here?"

"Much, young man, very much. For instance, you cannot imagine how much ends up in the collections of hobbyists and laymen. Priceless maps, components meant to unlock passages in temples and burial sites. To say nothing of holocrons. But those are details; knowledge is what is truly precious. Yes, knowledge..."

"I believe you will soon become full Inquisitors. Then you will have access to a significant portion of our information. I will be happy to show and tell you everything. But that will be later. For now, please, this way."

The doors slid apart, admitting us into a spacious chamber.

I expected to see a dark room bathed in red light—yet another setup by the Inquisitors, a test of our skills. It would be just like the Emperor to test his crackpot theories on unorthodox training methods on us.

But instead, I caught a faint resonance in the Force. A familiar resonance... another trap?!

"My, aren't you the paranoiac."

Master, please be so kind as to keep quiet.

"Hah, your thoughts say something else entirely. Something along the lines of 'shut up, moron' or 'why the hell did you move in anyway?'"

You surely realize that eavesdropping on someone's thoughts is unethical. What about personal space?

"Nope. What's that? Is it... edible?"

I could only sigh internally. There was no out-arguing this living antiquity right now.

"And you likely won't be able to in the future, either. Oh, look, he’s coming, he’s coming. Right, I’m not here, I was never here."

The Grand Inquisitor was ascending a small dais in the center of the hall. But he was not alone.

"Lord Vader. Grand Inquisitor."

We dropped to one knee in unison. My prosthetic bit noticeably into my skin, but that was secondary. Right now, all my attention was fixed on the machine-like man.

He was tall, roughly two meters, if not more. Yet through the Force, it felt as though he towered over us like a mountain.

"You have distinguished yourselves well," the Grand Inquisitor stepped forward. "It has been determined that your skills are sufficient to become full Inquisitors. However, you must pass one final trial."

A mechanical voice rang through the chamber.

"Kill a Jedi. Such is the condition for becoming an Inquisitor as decreed by the Emperor. Your targets have already been identified. Your primary objective: seek and destroy. Should a Master have an apprentice, deliver them to Nur. Grand Inquisitor, brief them on the details. The Emperor expects me."

Even while kneeling, I caught a micro-gesture from the Master. His lips twitched almost imperceptibly, as if he wanted to sneer.

A short bow followed the black figure as it passed us.

"As Lord Vader said, your task is to seek and destroy. At this moment, we are monitoring both targets closely. But the more time passes, the higher the risk we will lose them. Some Jedi have already gone to ground on remote planets. And the Emperor demands the extermination of all. Should a target vanish, it will be considered your total failure. And the responsibility will fall entirely on you. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then all information will be transferred to your new personal comlinks."

Two bracers floated toward us and then settled gently before us.

"They are identical to the ones you used before. Except now you are permitted to modify them as you see fit. All your gear, uniform, and the rest are now your concern alone. Except, perhaps, for this..."

Something black and red glinted between the fingers of a black-gloved hand. My heart skipped a beat.

It couldn't be. How?!

"It can, it can... you're going to owe me, apprentice..."

"These are your kyber crystals. I believe you already know what to do with them. Dismissed. You will learn the rest once you bring us the Jedi's weapons."

******

My fingers slowly turned the small, cold stone. A flick, and it soared into the air. It rose a meter and began to fall rapidly. The Force caught it, halting it level with my eyes.

"How much longer are you going to play with it? Come on, assemble the blade already and let's go. Training won't wait. You haven't even opened the briefing document."

Wait. I need to think.

"You aren't very good at that."

Something had changed. I thought I should build the same blade as before. But now... it was different. It didn't suit me anymore, and I was curious as to why. Visualizing it through the Force would be good, too. The first time, I managed to assemble it through the Will of the Force alone.

"You are either very smart and talented, or very lucky."

Hah, thanks, Master.

"Don't flatter yourself."

As you say. But still, don't interfere. What may be obvious to you is a secret to me. If you don't want to give me a hint, fine. But let me concentrate.

"Fine, fine, I'm going. My, aren't we inhospitable."

The voice in my head slowly went silent.

Great, peace and quiet at last. I can try to run through the whole sequence again.

The crystal is the same, that’s a fact. But now I can't establish proper contact with it. It’s not bad, but the weapon is no longer an extension of myself. At least, not the way it was before.

What’s the reason? Likely my injuries, though it's probably more than that. What else? Perhaps the reason is in me, or in the Force. Since my awakening, I still use the Dark Side, but not as actively.

Right, that sounds like the truth. But why? And there I hit a wall. I have no logical explanation. Logically, it should be the opposite.

Surviving a war, wounds that cause constant, itching pain, stepping across the threshold between life and death… all of this usually tips one further into the Dark.

What the hell is going wrong?! Curse it! Even my anger only sparked a faint ripple in the Force. Before, it felt like a white-hot torrent of energy flooding my body, bringing power and strength with it.

Leaning back against the pillow, I stared aimlessly at the ceiling of my ward.

My thoughts were walking in circles. I need to figure this out. How? I don't know. But I need to figure this out...

The lamps swayed slowly, tilting first one way, then the other. A slight fatigue filled my body. Questions raced through my mind one after another.

Suddenly, a new thought struck me like a thunderbolt. Do I actually need to figure this out?

What do I gain from it?

Essentially nothing, if I don't end up worse off. Even though I managed to control myself, there was always the risk that my emotions would get the better of me. Now, somehow, I’ve reached the state the Grand Inquisitor spoke of long ago.

Yes, yes, yes, one must master their emotions. Only the weak are led by their passions and desires. The strong subjugate them. Of course, it happened a bit differently, but now I am definitely in full control of myself.

It takes more effort to use the old techniques. The anger that used to fuel my body with the Force was now barely smoldering deep within me. But it hadn't vanished completely. I just need to learn how to fan it in a new way. Or find a substitute. Or perhaps not use it actively at all. It is like a bright flare—it flashes like a star but burns out very quickly. Maybe in a prolonged confrontation, something else would be more useful to me.

Responding to my thoughts, my arm and leg began to ache.

Yes, definitely, I need something else. The fact remains: I have changed. For better or worse remains to be seen. However, it is vital to learn to live in these altered conditions. And so what if these new conditions are me?

What was it that... what was he? Doesn't matter, let's call him an acolyte. Anyway, as he said, Philosophy dictates. Changes in consciousness affect the choice of the side of the Force, or something like that.

Apparently, I’ve changed enough that my own crystal no longer recognizes me.

So, what are the options? Roll myself back in development, which I certainly won't do. Find another crystal, or transform this one.

Hmm, I like the last option best. Only...

Master, are you there?

"And where else would I be?"

Well, who knows? Maybe you moved into the head of some other promising boy.

"Nope. Did I share a drink with him? I did not." The distinct sound of liquid sloshing at the bottom of a flask accompanied his reply. "Does he owe me? Also no. So why the Hutt would I move out? Eh?"

Well, since you're here, tell me how to transform a crystal. And is it even possible?

"Oh, is that so. Well, to your health." For a second, I thought I heard a satisfied gulp, as if someone had downed a large dose of liquid in one go. "Kkh-haa. That hit the spot. Yes, it's possible, but you're going to have to try very hard!"

Are we in a hurry?

"Fair point. Well then, listen up..."