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Complete Detachment (Star Wars Prequel SI)

Discussion in 'Creative Writing' started by 9adam4, Feb 1, 2019.

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  1. 9adam4

    9adam4 No emotion, only "peace"

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    That's a memory hole, unfortunately. Too tied up directly in the Sith machinations of the clone wars.

    Asajj Ventress would be very easy to fix; similar to Dooku, she only fell because she lost the person she cared about. Unfortunately, there's no one to stop that from happening.

    Long live the bloody queen of Rattatak.
     
  2. Threadmarks: Ch. 42 - Masterful Wisdom
    9adam4

    9adam4 No emotion, only "peace"

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    "Master Yoda?"

    The Temple quarters reserved for the Council members' use were large, if built in the same archaic milieu as the rest of the compound. I had not had a reason to visit Yoda's room before now, and stepping over a pile of old newsletters and around a half-disassembled tea-maker, I could see why.

    The mismatched furniture was sized for a human, including three different tables and a queen-sized four-poster bed. Every surface, even the bed, was covered in clutter. Much of it was old documents - manuals, journals, star charts - but random consumer items and clothes were strewn about as well.

    "Master?" I called again, and only then did the tiny Jedi's presence register. He was further in, somewhere… over…

    "Obi-wan." The wrinkled face and green ears popped from underneath the bed. He wasn't smiling. "Meet again in two days the Council will. Wait until then, your question cannot?"

    I stepped farther into the room. "Master Jinn recommended I come to you personally with this. Not by way of the Council."

    "Mmmm, yes. A personal chat, this space is suited for. Join me you will." His head disappeared under the duvet.

    It was with some trepidation that I got down on hands and knees to follow the Grand Master of the Order under his bed. As incongruous as it was, I found myself thinking of the blanket forts and burrows that my sons had always built behind couches or under the table. There were plenty of bedclothes piled around, and a thick rug that covered most of the stone floor below the bed. Yoda settled into a nest of pillows; a portable light and stack of books lay within his easy reach.

    The old man regarded me patiently, seeming content to sit quietly until I was ready to speak.

    "I made a mistake," I began, and the Master nodded.

    "The folly of youth, this is. Advice you seek, only after mistakes you have made. More valuable my wisdom might have been, if sought it before a decision you made."

    I nodded, conceding the point. "The problem with consulting with the Council, is that it effectively takes the decision away from us."

    He shook his head sharply at this. "Consult with the Council, did I suggest? No! Consult with me, I said. Trust me, do you not?"

    The silence stretched, before I finally decided to say it. "No, Master. I suppose I do not, really. I trust your intent, certainly, but not your judgement."

    "Mmmm, yes. Failures you saw, in your Visions, and so my judgment you find questionable." He let the conclusion linger. "Remind me, then: your judgment, in these Visions of the future? Sound it was, yes? Fail you did not?"

    I scowled. "You know very well that Obi-wan's failure in the original timeline was as great as any. But that's the point. I'm not acting as he did. The Visions changed me."

    "Unique in this, do you suppose you are?" Yoda asked. "A new path you can learn, while destined are the rest of us to trudge toward our predicted ends?"

    "No, that isn't - " I had trouble meeting his eyes as I assembled my response.

    "Learn we can, too, Obi-wan." He reached a clawed, three-fingered hand to my face, holding my gaze in his. "If let us in, you will. Still trying to save the Galaxy yourself, you are, yet many allies other than just the Force you have. Learn more lessons than just from your Visions, you must."

    "Okay, I'll tr… I will. Yes, Master."

    "Good. So," Yoda sat back, swiping up a book almost his own size to paw through. "The Mind Spike your Padawan knows. Teach it to her, did you?"

    I shook my head. "Mind Spike? This is the first I've heard of it."

    Claws swiveled the manuscript around to face me. It was a handwritten folio of the type common on worlds with paper but no automated press. The Aurabeth was blocky but legible. I read aloud.

    "... and a third Spirit Warrior did he slay. So did the squire say unto Mara Din, Ho-Laja will pierce my mind before we draw blades, and how can I withstand this attack? And Mara Din said, your mind is your home, so if he lays siege, prepare for the assault. Within your Soul is an empty Darkness. Place within it a Spike of burning Agonies, and disguise it with a longsuffering look. So shall Ho-Laja step into your mind, and encounter the Pit, and himself become impaled, and you shall strike him down with your Unholy Blade, in the name of Mara Din. It came to pass, that Ho-Laja was slain. Thereafter the Spirit Warriors did battle with Blades alone, for although a Mind Spear was a great feat of Spirit, the Mind Spike could be placed by even the weakest apprentice."

    "A kernel of truth legends hold, and often much more," the Master said as he took the old tome back from my hand. "But teach Olana, this book could not have, nor any I know in the Archives. Another teacher does she have?"

    I sighed, giving a wordless nod.

    "Ask you how she acquired it, I will not." His sigh was a counterpoint to my own. "Safe from the corruption of a Sith holocron, most Masters do not believe themselves to be. Yet, allow a youngling one you did? Why?"

    "She made it an issue of trust." I felt Yoda's consternation as his attention beat on me like the hot sun. "I let her have it - just for a little while - and this all happened so fast. There should have been a learning curve. Warning signs. Not… just… suddenly a new Force power."

    "Far more driven than you realize, she is. Your expectations she will always strive to exceed. Her ultimate objective she will never meet otherwise."

    "Right," I shook my head. "I still think of her as a child, needing to be guided. But she's smarter than I am. More determined."

    "Still in need of guidance she is, more now than ever," Yoda rejoined. "But think of her as a child you cannot. Mistake your tenderness for love, she will. Your fatherly affection for romantic attachment."

    "You're not going to chide me for making these connections?" I searched his eyes; his thoughts radiated worry and concern but nothing more.

    Yoda shook his head. "An unfeeling machine I am not, Obi-wan. Attachment we spurn, but not connection. Compassion… affection… loyalty. Strengthened by these things, a Jedi can be. Father and mother are we all to the younglings; brother and sister to each other."

    I felt apprehension from him as he said these things, as though he was holding back from addressing something else. I asked, "So what do I do?"

    "About what?" he asked with a neutral expression, but he felt far less relaxed than he made himself look.

    "About the holocron, the Dark technique."

    He leaned forward, his voice barely above a growl. "What to do, you know already, yes?" He nodded to himself when I didn't answer. "Go, then. Decide for you I cannot."
     
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  3. Vergil1989 Crossover King

    Vergil1989 Crossover King Experienced.

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    Well this is going to be interesting. I am kinda surprised Master Yoda of all people has such a messy room though, and that he prefers to hide under his own bed lol. He's like an oversized troll child....wait, is he still 'Baby Yoda'? :p
     
  4. Demetric

    Demetric Making the rounds.

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    I’m not terribly surprised by his room. Yoda doesn’t seem the type to care about that kind of thing, when it doesn’t affect who it matters. Besides, he lived on a buttfuck nowhere swamp planet for who knows how long. Kinda indicative of his standards.
     
    Last edited: Jan 19, 2020 at 5:01 AM
  5. morningbeauvoir

    morningbeauvoir Your first time is always over so quickly, isn't it?

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    What if yoda's like the dalai lama? He really is baby Yoda.
     
  6. R.A.G.

    R.A.G. Experienced.

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    The legend is interesting as it gives reasoning for why Jedi and Sith don't constantly mindbattle one another. While learning to attack is hard, any rando can set up a mental defence for people to fuck themselves up on, so stabbing them irl is a much surer thing.

    Beyond that, while I doubt he'll take it away forever, I hope Kenobi takes away the holocron for a while and has her examining and reexamining her thoughts and beliefs until she's made sure she solidly believes whatever it is she believes in (making it harder for her to be swayed).
     
  7. mossconfig

    mossconfig (verified stale bread)

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    Has this been shared? Because Darth jar jar has made an appearance, this isn't too far off.
     
  8. Threadmarks: Ch. 43 - Dark Technique
    9adam4

    9adam4 No emotion, only "peace"

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    The Temple courtyard included a number of clear spaces between grassy patches where initiates could study or train. I found the two together, sitting on either side of a triangular stack of bricks. Each brick was only the length of a finger and a third as tall, but the careful construction reached their shoulders.

    "Very good, Anakin," Olana praised as two bricks landed, symmetrically, on opposite sides of the structure. Her short Padawan’s braid was a visible reminder of her change in status. "You ready?"

    "Ready," the boy said, his attention focused entirely on the stones.

    With a move of her hand, Olana sent the topmost piece flying, up and backwards past Anakin. The younger boy sprang to his feet, spun around, and threw out an outstretched hand; the brick immediately reversed direction.

    Even as Anakin floated the brick back towards the stack, Olana moved her attention to another brick, flinging it away. The first brick dropped to the ground as the second was arrested, and it in turn dropped as a third was launched and caught. Each brick found its way back to a loose circle near the two youths, until the eighth, which clattered against the wall surrounding the courtyard.

    "Seven, excellent," I stepped forward, surprising the boy although not his smiling trainer.

    "I got ten one time," Anakin whined. "She goes too fast. I can't even get 'em restacked anymore."

    "That's why we start with the double stacking," Olana calmly reminded him. "You can continue to focus on one object while also lifting another."

    "Show me?" the boy looked up at her with pleading eyes.

    Olana sighed. "Not today, Annie. The trial was pretty exhausting."

    "I imagine so," I chimed in, and was gratified by the worried look she flashed me.

    "Yeah, you did good today! Didn't she, Obi?" Anakin danced excitedly, the bricks temporarily forgotten. "When do I get to learn how to do that?"

    "We've already been working on your saber," Olana frowned.

    "Not that! The mind thing you did to Partha. She's was totally surprised! Did you see the look on her face?" Anakin's delighted smile mirrored the one I'd seen on Olana's face at the end of the Trial, and his mental state matched it: reveling in the pain and defeat of a foe.

    My Padawan's own mind was well-shielded, but her expression showed a great amount of embarrassment. "Why do you think that was me?
    "Wasn't it? You told me you were going to take care of her when we figured out what she was doing." Anakin frowned, and then he glanced at me. He moved closer to her and tried to whisper, "Sorry; was that a secret?"

    Olana shook her head, flashing the boy a resigned smile. "It was, but not anymore. Obi-wan's here to talk to me about it, I think."

    I nodded. "So this was just you and… no other Jedi?" I left the implication unsaid. "You didn't tell Anakin or anyone else what you were planning?"

    "No one else," she confirmed.

    I had intended to send Anakin off, and discuss the matter in private. But his senses were keener than I had expected, and it was better to approach him head-on. I knelt down in front of the boy, giving him my full attention as Olana stood by. "Annie, what Olana used is a Dark Side technique."

    "It's not!" she interrupted me, almost yelling. "The Hate Funnel is a Jedi technique. It separates emotions from actions, just like you do."

    "Why d'you think that Lana would use a Sith technique? She's a Jedi." Anakin cast scorn on the very idea.

    I rose, making eye contact with Olana even while ostensibly still speaking to Anakin. "We are discussing two different things. I didn't say the technique was Sith. I said it was Dark."

    "That's the same thing," Anakin began, but Olana shook her head.

    "No, Obi-wan is right on this." (I caught the subtle emphasis given to 'this' as opposed to other things.) "Whether a technique is used by the Jedi, the Sith, both, or neither is distinct from its place within the Force. What leads you to believe the Hate Funnel uses the Dark Side, Master?"

    I gave just a hint of a smile. “Why don’t you tell me, Padawan?”

    Olana glowered, a look I knew was part of her focus when tackling tough questions. “The Dark Side of the Force is reached through strong emotion. Malice, aggression, fear, disgust. The desire to harm others, to assert one’s individual will on the Galaxy, rather than abide by its will.”

    I nodded. “A Force-user’s powers come from an alignment between their mental state, and the state of the Force near them. Jedi train to align their minds to their surroundings. The Dark Side is the opposite - changing the alignment of your surroundings to match your will. The Jedi gain power by emptying themselves of anything contrary to the Force. But Power in the Dark Side is gained by drawing on those elements of the Force that match how you are feeling.” I made brief contact with Anakin, who was listening intently. “But repeated use of those elements attunes you to them, and colors how you connect to the Force. If you draw the strength of hatred through the Force towards yourself, in order to use its power, then the hatred itself is augmented by the Force. Hatred is made stronger, and more persistent. It’s still there the next time you connect.”

    Olana made a small nod. “You believe the Hate Funnel is a Dark technique, because the act of collecting my hatred involves contacting the Force through the Dark Side.” She shook her head. “It doesn’t, though. The hatred is collected and separated prior to opening yourself to the Force. When you commune with the Force, it is only to mask the Funnel, not to create it.”

    “I find that hard to believe,” I said. “When creating the… Funnel, you didn’t feel a surge of emotion? A strong pang of hostility or rage?”

    She shook her head. “No, I didn’t. Obi-wan, why don’t I teach you the technique? It’s not difficult, and you can feel the Force connection for yourself. It’s pure.”

    I shook my head. “I can’t risk it. I must be entirely clear of emotional attachments before I will open myself to the Force.”

    Olana nodded, but this prompted Anakin to speak up. “I’m usually feeling a lot of emotion, even when I’m using the Force. Is that evil?”

    Sighing, I took a moment to consider the best answer to Anakin’s question. “It’s definitely not evil, Annie. A distinction needs to be made between the Dark Side, and immoral behavior. Our actions can be evaluated as ‘good’ or ‘evil’ based on both our intent to help or harm, and whether we actually do help or harm.”

    Anakin replied, “But the Sith want to harm, and they do harm. So they are evil.”

    “They do evil,” I corrected. “We simplify by saying they are evil, but that’s just a shorthand to say that they are actively choosing evil behaviors.”

    Anakin echoed my earlier sigh. “You’re making this very complicated, you know. Sith are the bad guys, so they do evil. Jedi are the good guys, do they do good. Right, Lana?”

    My Padawan thought before answering. “It’s the other way around,” she said, and I felt a swell of pride. “A sentient being is evil, or good, because she does evil or good. And because she intends evil or good.”

    “Exactly,” I agreed. “And what did you intend, when creating your Hate Funnel?”

    “To defend myself,” she said, but she didn’t meet my eyes as she said it. “And to make sure that she never did it again.”

    “Partha betrayed you,” I offered, stepping forward to come uncomfortably close to her. I extended my mind, probing the edges of her blank shielding. “You thought she was a friend, that the things she said and did were well-intended. When all along, she was sabotaging you.” Olana kept her gaze downward; she flushed. I muttered, “You wanted to hurt her, didn’t you? To punish her for hurting you.”

    “Yes,” she hissed through gritted teeth. “But I put all of that in the Funnel.” She finally met my eyes, pleading. “I put it all in the Funnel, and I closed it away, and she only felt it because she attacked me again.” Her control was weakening, and I felt the red hot anger leaking behind the dissolving mass. It burst like an overfilled balloon, but I was ready. On every side, her mind was already enveloped by mine, and her anger hit my cool awareness, sizzling outward and sinking into me.

    Anakin shouted in alarm as Olana fell forward, wrapping her arms around me and burying her face in my chest. I held her body and her mind both, my own awareness absorbing layer after layer of her radiating hostility.

    As she wept, the anger faded, and I saw what was just beneath it: a slimy coating of shame. Of her weakness, her failings, her ignorance. Of not being good enough for Him. Of disappointing Him, and being shown to be only His student, in need of His rescue, over and over again. I had absorbed the anger, but I didn’t touch the shame, or try to see what was underneath. I just buoyed it, giving her mind a calm place to float as she collected herself.

    Olana stepped back just as she withdrew her mind from mine. The whole interaction had taken mere moments, and it was clear how tired she was from it. “I’m okay, Anakin,” she insisted as she looked to me with sheepish gratitude. “Obi-wan was just helping me put myself back in order.”

    “I underestimated the danger,” I insisted at barely above a murmur.

    “We both did,” she agreed. “So, what now?”

    “The danger in what?” Anakin asked, thoroughly flummoxed by the discussion.

    I ignored his question, and answered hers. “We give ourselves time. I know you’re tired,” I gestured toward the courtyard entrance, “but we should do this now. Do you trust me?”

    “Always,” Olana spoke without hesitation.

    “Me too!” Anakin added, cheerful if still uncertain as to what was happening.

    “Come along, then.”

    We found Qui-Gon sitting quietly on the edge of his bed, the metal casing around his left leg connected by wire to R2-D2’s data port. C-3PO was there as well; I hadn’t had much contact with the protocol droid since he’d been volunteered by Anakin to stay with Padme.

    As the droids conveyed greetings, I exchanged a glance with Qui-Gon to quickly convey the purpose of our meeting. He nodded at Anakin, letting me know that the boy could stay. Rapid, secret exchanges are much easier with telepaths.

    “Artoo, Threepio, thank you for your help,” Qui-Gon turned to the droids first, his tone clearly signalling dismissal.

    **Acknowledged.** R2-D2 beeped.

    “You’re welcome, Master Jinn. Please call us if we can be of further assistance,” C-3PO added with far greater aplomb.

    The two droids turned to exit, but I addressed them just as the door opened. “Artoo, were you going to come with us to Ilum?”

    **Negative.** The droid continued to roll away, and his hobbling partner followed.

    At a gesture from Qui-Gon, I locked the door behind the departing droids, and we approached the bed. “Olana,” I prompted calmly, “the holocron.”

    She produced the pyramid from her robes, still glowing that gory red. At a nod from me, she offered it to Qui-Gon.

    “Please,” I asked, “take it. I’m still loathe to destroy it, but this short time has made it clear that she…” I took a breath, looking from my Padawan to my former Master. “That we, Olana and I, aren’t prepared to use it. Not yet.”

    Qui-Gon nodded, accepting the small artifact. As it passed from Olana, the red glow seemed to localize and dim, as though it couldn’t push as strongly against its surroundings. The Master held the holocron in his open palm, almost fully extended to arm’s length, making no move to clutch it or give it a closer look. “There is a place,” he spoke to Anakin, “that we can take this. It will be safe there, for a time.”

    The boy nodded. “So that’s a Sith holocron. Is that why the gatekeeper wears a hood?” At the confused looks from us, Anakin explained, “Olana just left it out on a shelf when she was sleeping. Couldn’t anybody pick it up and look at it? Aren’t those things dangerous?”

    “Nobody can see it there,” Olana insisted. “They’re actually repelled from getting too close to it. Except for you, apparently.”

    “It was kinda weird that you kept wearing it everywhere but nobody asked you about it. I figured it was, like, an Initiate thing.” He looked at the piece with more than a little curiosity, but no apparent fear or apprehension.

    With one hand still carefully outstretched and flat, Qui-Gon carefully reached under the bed and pulled out a piece of lockable luggage. He opened it one-handed, wrapping the holocron in a blanket and packing it away with spare robes. “Anakin, I need you to listen carefully to me,” Qui-Gon held the boy’s attention as he locked the piece away. “You are not to touch, or otherwise access, the holocron on your own. Not for any reason. If you feel you must do something with it, then come to me and we will do it together.”

    Anakin seemed to understand Qui-Gon’s somber tone, because he replied with a calm, “Yes, Master.”

    The Master turned back to the two of us. “It will be safe, and unused, if you ask for it again. But I sincerely hope that you do not.” He looked at the suitcase critically. “When do you leave for Ilum?”

    “Tomorrow,” Olana answered. “Travel time is about three days each way, so we expect to be gone for as much as two weeks. The Seer is already in transit.”

    “When we get back,” I added, “I’m going to need your help. The projects I have in mind are -”

    “Dangerous, over-the-top, and borderline impossible,” Qui-Gon interrupted. “We already know you, Obi-wan.”

    I tilted my head, conceding the point. “And yet, you’re still here.”

    Qui-Gon shrugged. “They’re my quarters.”

    “You know what I mean.”

    Qui-Gon rested a hand thoughtfully on the closed case. “Someone has to be.”
     
    Last edited: Jan 22, 2020 at 8:19 PM
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  9. Vergil1989 Crossover King

    Vergil1989 Crossover King Experienced.

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    Monstrous, making a lady cry. :p
     
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  10. mossconfig

    mossconfig (verified stale bread)

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    Cute and unhealthy! I love it!
     
  11. 9adam4

    9adam4 No emotion, only "peace"

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    Instead of a separate chapter, I added the short Qui-Gon interaction to the end of 43. You might need to go back and finish it.
     
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