A Young Girl’s War Between the Stars

  21

  Mandalore, Sundari, 41 BBY/959 GSC.

  I looked up at the sound of the main hatch opening and a knock at the bulkhead. Reaching out, I felt a vaguely familiar presence in the Force and frowned. Leaning back in my magnetic chair, I found the blonde form of Satine Kryze poking her head into my ship and looking around.

  “Can I help you?” I called, standing up from my workbench and the disassembled A-180 blaster laid out on it.

  “Ah! There you are!” the woman smiled, her boots thumping on the deck as she made hr way over. “Obi-wan said you would probably be here. We haven’t had much of a chance to talk and with the negotiations almost complete, I felt it would be remiss of me not to take some time getting to know you.” She held out a hand to shake, “Please, call me Satine.”

  “Tanya,” I returned the courtesy, shaking her hand. Raising an eyebrow as I looked behind her and didn’t see Obi, I said, “I thought Obi was glued to your hip.”

  Satine laughed, blushing a bit as she looked around for a seat. I focused on the compartment up front and pulled one of the chairs out, bringing it back and unfolding it for her, before sticking it to the deck. “Ah! Thank you,” she nodded, taking a seat and leaning forward, studying me intently. “Obi-wan is with Jango Fett today. Jaster and I swapped. And, well… I wanted to make sure you were doing better. I heard what happened with the Death Watch, and… my sister. I’m sorry.”

  Sitting down, I leaned back and crossed a leg over my knee, studying her. “I see.”

  When that was all I offered, her smile faltered a bit. Finally, looking to fill the empty air with conversation, she looked around the ship. “I didn’t know your Master had bought a new ship.”

  I shook my head. “He did not.”

  “No? Master Sifo-Dyas perhaps? I’d think Master Qui-Gon would have said something if he had.”

  “No, it’s mine,” I answered, and her look turned confused.

  “Yours?” When I nodded, she asked, “You bought it?”

  I chuckled, a small smile pulling at my lips. “In a way. Though to put it more plainly, I claimed the ship after I was attacked. This belonged to the Death Watch. It’s mine now.”

  The blonde sighed, radiating regret. Reaching out, she laid a hand on my knee. “No one should have to fight, especially one so young. It’s… it’s disgusting. This is why I wanted to bring peace to my people and abolish the old ways. But it seems some still cling to the violence of the past.”

  I shook my head. “Those who hammer their swords into plows will plow for those who do not. The very moment you give up your ability to defend yourself, someone will move in and take advantage. You and your people will be killed or enslaved. Everything of value you have will be taken. Is that what you want for your people?”

  Satine shook her head. “No, but I would like to think that not everyone in the universe is out to exploit everyone else. I prefer to see the good in people.”

  “Then you’re either ignorant, naive, or a fool. You sleep peacefully in your bed at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on your behalf. The first option is that you’re unaware of that fact and what goes into planetary defense. The second, you believe that everyone thinks and feels similarly to yourself. The third, that you’re neither ignorant nor naive, but you see the truth and disregard it because it contradicts your personal beliefs.”

  A rueful look crossed over her face as her emotions shifted between incredulity, annoyance, and oddly, acceptance. “Yes, I’ve been made painfully aware of that during the course of negotiations, with both Jaster’s faction and the Jedi going on at length about everyone who would see a disarmed Mandalore as easy pickings. It’s a reality I’ve been forced to accept, much as I hate it.”

  “Then why still cling to the notion of peace?”

  The blonde woman hummed, tilting her head from side to side. “For my people, because I want them to grow up in a world where they no longer have to cover themselves in armor and take up a blaster as soon as they can reasonably do so. Also, to prevent a repetition of the past. I’m sure you’ve heard some variation on the old quote, those who do not learn their history are doomed to repeat it.” When I nodded, she continued, “Mandalorian history is long and steeped in blood. We’ve shed as much ourselves as we’ve drawn from others. Our history, like that of the Jedi, stretches back over seven thousand years. But it’s more recent history I’m focused on. Almost seven hundred years ago.”

  Frowning, I asked, “What happened?”

  “Nine hundred and… sixty? No. Fifty-nine. Nine hundred and fifty-nine years ago, after the last war between the Jedi and the Sith, there was a restructuring of the Republic. The end of the Republic’s Dark Age and the beginning of the Golden Age of the Republic. They called it the Great Reunification.

  “Power was stripped from the Supreme Chancellor and placed instead with the Senate. This was called the Ruusan Reformation. Afterwards, the Seventh Battle of Ruusan, which took place that year, was declared as Year Zero on the new Galactic Standard Calendar. There were other changes, of course. Within your own Jedi order, in order to appease the newly reformed Republic that they wouldn’t become a conquering army, they abandoned their battle armor, their military ranks, dissolved their commander-in-chief, disbanded their army and naval forces, and then put themselves under the supervision of the Supreme Chancellor and the Judiciary Department of the Republic.”

  I frowned at that, internally wondering why the Jedi would… abase themselves in such a way. I knew there were some similarities to samurai culture from the Japan of my first life, and while for the most part the samurai had gone quietly into the night following the Meiji Restoration, the Jedi were not the samurai. They were an independent faction of warrior monks who could have left Coruscant and retreated to a planet somewhere in the Outer Rim to live in relative isolation and continue as they had been instead of effectively taking the knee and pledging fealty to not even a proper ruler, but a governing body—a committee!

  Had I known that was the current state of the Jedi, I would have seriously considered turning down Master Dooku’s offer. Learning it now… It almost made my decision for me, to take the Resol’nare.

  But it explains some things. Several, in fact. About certain attitudes and practices within the temple. About the views of certain Masters. Master Mundi and his ilk, in particular. They don’t see themselves as separate from the Republic, but rather as subordinate. As a part of the government. The diplomatic and enforcement arm of the Republic. And that wouldn’t even necessarily be a bad thing—not ideal, but not awful. The problem is, as above, so below.

  The Senate is clearly suffering from corruption, graft, bloat, and incompetence. This has obviously infected the Jedi Order, with several masters having failed upwards to the level of their incompetence at the Council level. Now, those incompetents are holding me—and the rest of the Jedi—back.

  So, how do we handle it?

  In business, we would have adopted one of two strategies: Kaizen or Kaikaku. Incremental changes towards improvement, or radical changes towards improvement. This… this level of incompetence requires the latter. Radical change at the C-level. The entire C-suite would be fired or would be asked to retire.

  In the military, the troops would ignore stupid orders or find ways to creatively interpret them. I spent most of my days finding creative interpretations for orders, or finding ways to deploy myself under my own orders to avoid being given more stupid orders like sacrifice myself to hold the line for just fifteen more minutes against impossible odds while instead pitching everything I did as interpreting any potential order I could be given and going a step beyond, so that no one could argue that I ever did anything outside the interests of the nation when I was the most patriotic one there. Then, all reports sent back were worded in such a way that it seemed like I was an exemplary officer, going above and beyond what was required to find new ways to go after the enemy that command never considered—ways that, for the most part, were considerably safer than if they had ordered my unit to do something stupid.

  I have three Masters on my side, and while two of those are on the High Council and hold significant sway, the other factions are louder or larger. The reactionaries of Master Windu’s faction. The perpetual fence sitters who do nothing until forced to, that is, Master Yoda’s faction. And the incompetents gathered around Master Mundi using ‘logic’ as a shield while failing to grasp the actual long term consequences of their actions.

  So then, I should work on securing the allies that I can. Where to start though?

  I believe the Chief Librarian, Master Jocasta Nu, could be reasoned with. Certainly someone who spends their time maintaining knowledge wouldn’t be blind to what’s going on.

  I blinked, pulled from my thoughts by Satine’s words. “…And there was some shuffling of seats within the Senate to prevent the Core from controlling everything.”

  “And how does the Ruusan Reformation pertain to Mandalorian history?” I asked, attempting to push her towards approaching a point to this conversation. As informative as it was, and as much as it highlighted gaps in my own knowledge that I would need to fill soon, my time was precious and we had little of it before negotiations finished and we went to Serenno. I’d like to have everything prepared and ready before then, so I wasn’t the one holding us up.

  “In the two hundred odd years since the Ruusan Reformation, Mandalore and our worlds experienced a bit of a technological revolution. We began rapidly advancing in technology and military power. We also advanced in political power and trade. We began taxing trade along the Hydian Way and united our neighbors under defensive and economic treaties. The Republic began making overtures to have us join them at this time.

  “However, the traditionalists of the time refused to join the Republic. They followed the Mandalore. Joining the Republic would mean ceding sovereignty of Mandalore to the Senate and the Republic. Just like every other ‘member state,’ we would become a vassal state of the Republic. Duty bound to send troops, ships, supplies, and taxes. Required by law to disband much of our military and keep our navy below certain numbers and sizes of ships. But even then the Republic had problems protecting its member states from raiders and pirates—or from Mandalorians,” Satine gave a dry chuckle.

  Her humor fell away and she sighed. “In the year 262 GSC, the Jedi Order, along with the Republic’s Judicial Forces and Planetary Security Forces organized a preemptive strike on Mandalorian Space. Mandalore, Fenel, Ordo, Concord Dawn—all of them and more were crippled in a first strike under heavy bombardment. The Jedi and the Republic are the reason those planets are largely barren deserts today. Following that were a number of ground battles that the Jedi led the charge in, eliminating many entire Mandalorian clans. They called it the Mandalorian Excision—as though our people were a cancer to be cut out.”

  My mouth worked itself open and closed several times. The sheer waste of resources, human and otherwise. The stupidity of attempting to eliminate or at the very least cripple an entire nation because they refused to join and give up their sovereignty to join a Frankenstein’s monster of a union of other nations, or a Republic in the case, who would ultimately demand tithes and tell them how to live their lives without giving them anything in return. It boggled the mind.

  Satine continued speaking, her tone matter of fact, but her emotions bitter and anger smoldering underneath. “Following the Excision, the Republic disarmed and occupied Mandalorian space. A provisional government was installed to oversee things locally and bring us in line with the Republic. We were able to rebuild, slowly. Out of the ashes, true Mandalorians arose to eventually reclaim control of Mandalore from the provisional government—the New Mandalorian faction. We have run the government and largely controlled Mandalorian space since then. We were the ones who rebuilt Mandalore and those planets the Republic bombed, building up cities like Sundari. Jaster’s ‘True Mandalorians’ are a remnant of a time we were forced to abandon when your people came and laid waste to ours, for refusing to join and obey their masters in the Senate.”

  If she was expecting to guilt me over that, she had picked an exceptionally poor target. I already disagreed with many of the Jedi Order’s current policies and it seemed much of it stemmed from the Ruusan Reformation, so she wouldn’t find an argument against Jedi stupidity and perfidy here. I had nothing to do with their past decisions and refused to allow myself to be painted with the brush of guilt by association. It seemed she picked up on that, so Satine moved on.

  “The reality of the situation is that we are only tolerating their existence and willing to incorporate them into the government as a sort of military expeditionary force because they’re Mandalorians as well, and we need to consolidate our standing military forces so that we can eventually, quietly declare independence from the Republic, and stop throwing money and resources into the black hole of their spending. We want peace. The peace of being left alone to quietly grow and advance as we see fit. To raise our children without the fear of Republic ships bombing our cities if we stop paying taxes. To not have to worry that raiders will come and enslave our people, as you pointed out. But I know what will happen to us if we move too quickly. All I have to do is walk outside to see it. So perhaps I am naive but I’m not ignorant. Nor am I a fool. I just want what’s best for my people without risking everything.”

  I studied her where she sat—back straight, head up, hands folded in her lap, blue eyes holding my gaze confidently. Resolve poured off of her. In that moment, I saw what had drawn so many people to follow a young woman who couldn’t be more than her early twenties. I saw what it was that Obi had seen at a glance, and what had so entranced my friend, and found that I could forgive her for that. I would say that, of the people I’d met so far in this new life, she ranked third among the most charismatic—just behind Master Dooku and Jaster, just above Augwynne.

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  Quietly, I murmured, “It seems that what you’re looking for is peace through strength.”

  “I am a pacifist,” Satine arched an eyebrow, cocking her head slightly. After a moment, her lips twitched as she fought a smile down. “If those looking to harm us were to see our strength and decide not to fight, that still achieves the goal of not having to fight. Strength comes in many different forms. Military, yes. But also economic, technological, our friends and allies, and other forms. I’ve been forced to accept that the best route may be a variety of strengths. The visible deterrent of military might, but also the more subtle threat of financial repercussions, or what it would mean to anger those we call friends.”

  Standing, the blonde stretched. “Thank you for the talk. It’s been enlightening.”

  Hearing that I realized that somehow, despite doing most of the talking, Satine had managed to glean more from me and learn more of my character than I had of her. I had to hand it to her, she was good. Narrowing my eyes, I asked, “I never asked Obi. How old are you again?”

  The blonde brought up a hand to cover her lips as she laughed. “Will it change how you think of it?”

  “Probably,” I admitted.

  “Hmm~” she hummed, eyes crinkled in a smile. “I’m sixteen.”

  I blinked, spending a moment processing that. Looking her up and down again, I mentally reassessed everything I’d learned about her. Then, I mentally bumped her up above Jaster on my short list. “Huh.”

  Lowering her hand, her smirk faded to a smile as she headed to the hatch. She paused, turning back to look at me. “Obi-wan said you two had a fight.”

  I scoffed quietly. “It wasn’t a fight. I told her not to use me, and feeling like she neglected her duty, as an excuse to avoid getting close to you—because as far as I am concerned, she was fulfilling her duty.”

  The woman hummed. “That’s a lot of words to say you’re jealous.”

  I sent her my best flat stare—the sort I’d used just before assigning someone to scrub toilets in the last life. For some reason, that made her giggle. “I am not—”

  “You are. But that’s okay. Don’t worry, I won’t steal your Obi away. I’ll make sure she spends time with you too.”

  “…Accidents aren’t difficult to arrange.”

  This time, she laughed. “I’m sure they aren’t, especially for someone like you. But you wouldn’t do that, because it would mean admitting defeat. It would sting your pride too much to resort to petty violence when your opponent never rose above the level of harsh truths. Especially when you fired the first volley.”

  When I only glared in response, she let out a quiet sigh, exasperation rolling off of her. “You strike me as the kind of person who says exactly what they mean. Would you say that’s accurate?”

  “Yes.”

  “I thought so. She told me what you said, but that didn’t match what you just told me. She also mentioned some things about Jedi and attachments—that you’re not allowed to form strong attachments, especially romantic attachments, to others. Is that accurate?”

  I nodded. “It is.”

  “Mm. I took it to be an admission on her part of her growing attachment towards me—a mutual one, I’ll admit. There’s something there I’ve never felt before,” she smiled, her face lighting up as she radiated soft, warm, squishy emotions. “It’s very nice. But I also understood it to mean that she felt guilty about it.”

  Studying my face for a moment, she shook her head. “You told her not to use you as an excuse and that you didn’t feel she was responsible for you getting injured. You meant it literally. What you have to understand is that most girls can’t and won’t leave it at that. Especially when you pointed out that she was feeling guilty and conflicted. You may have been trying, in a roundabout way, to assure her that what she felt was normal and natural and that you didn’t want to be the reason she didn’t get to experience that…?”

  It wasn’t a question, but the tone and the feeling behind it sounded like she was asking for confirmation as to my intent, so I nodded. “I was.”

  “That’s what you said, but it’s not what Obi heard. What she heard was that you’re angry with her for abandoning you and she’s being an idiot for following her heart.”

  I blinked, my mouth working for a moment. Finally, I got out, “That is the exact opposite of what I told her—!”

  “Yes!” Satine laughed, nodding. “And you’ve spent the last several days cooped up in here, preparing, right?”

  “I have. We’ll be leaving for Serenno as soon as negotiations are complete. I wanted to make sure I was ready.”

  Satine explained, “She thinks you’re mad at her and you’ve been hiding from her.”

  “…I have not. I literally sleep in the bed next to her.”

  Satine giggled, nodding again. “Mhmm! And you haven’t brought it up, have you?”

  “No. Why would I? I considered the matter closed.”

  She leaned against the side of the door as her body began to shake from laughing so hard. “Ahh, I needed that. You two! Really. She thinks you’re mad, so she won’t bring it up. You think it’s settled, so you won’t bring it up. She’s been sulking this whole time and you haven’t said anything, so she thinks you’re ignoring her, because she knows you should be able to tell she’s sulking.”

  Sighing, I leaned back in my chair and brought a hand up to massage my forehead. “I thought she was sulking because she wasn’t spending the night with you exploring your relationship, and because we’d have to leave soon.”

  The blonde blushed at that and fanned her face. “My, what an imagination you have!” Shaking her head, she pushed off the wall. “Do you want my advice?”

  I considered for a moment before nodding. Satine seemed to be insightful and had an outside perspective on things, so it wouldn’t hurt to hear what she had to say.

  “I’ve found it’s sometimes best to just start by apologizing.”

  “But I haven’t done anything to apologize for!” I did not yell, but it was a near thing. My frustration may have leaked through in my voice, given the way she laughed.

  “No, you really didn’t. But sometimes, that’s just the way it is. Think of it… like a battle. She’s put up her defenses. She believes you’re laying siege to her castle. She’s going to perceive whatever you say as an attack, even if it’s not, unless it’s a surrender. In order to get her to lower her defenses, you need to surrender first. Signal that you want to parley. After that, she’ll ride out to see what you want. Then…”

  Frowning at how stupid this all sounded, I was annoyed that it made an irritating amount of sense. It explained a few things I’d missed in my first life—instances where women I was dating abruptly cut contact. It also explained why sometimes, Visha would get mad at me for seemingly no reason, and only calm down again after either something happened and she got to kill someone, or she used me as a human dakimakura.

  “And then?”

  “Surprise attack!” Satine brought her fist in to strike the opposing palm. “Hit her when she’s exposed.” She held up a hand, “Not literally, mind you. Do something simple. Hug her.”

  “…That’s it?”

  “That’s it,” Satine nodded, before shaking her head. “No, wait. Perhaps I should elaborate a bit…” She squinted at me suspiciously before nodding. “Yes, I should. For you? Just shut up.”

  “Excuse you.”

  “You heard me,” Satine arched an eyebrow. “Apologize. Wait for her to drop her guard. Hug her. Then shut up. She’ll talk and get what’s wrong off her chest. Then you can address her problems. Carefully. Don’t offer solutions, that’s not what she wants. She’s a girl, she doesn’t want solutions, she wants sympathy. Nod, make the appropriate noises, agree that it sucks, maybe apologize again. That’s it.”

  “That’s, that’s so, so stupid.”

  “Maybe,” Satine nodded. “But it’s what most girls want. Obi is no exception. Personally, I can go either way. Sometimes, I just want a shoulder to cry on. Sometimes, I want someone to go out and make the problem stop being a problem.”

  Crossing my arms over my chest, I frowned. “You keep pointing out that she’s a girl. The implication being that you don’t see me as one.”

  Satine chuckled. “No offense, but I’ve spent less than day with you, and you’re more like a droid than a human being in some ways.”

  “Some taken,” I grumbled. “I’m very human!” I paused, remembering I was actually not entirely human. “Close enough.”

  “So I can see. That’s why I said, ‘in some ways.’ That’s okay. Some people are just like that. Maybe you’ll grow out of it one day. Until then, now you know what’s expected and how to handle it.”

  A quiet, annoyed noise built in my throat for a moment before I nodded. “Thank you.”

  The blonde girl smiled. “As I said, I’m not trying to steal her away from you.” I narrowed my eyes into a glare and her smile grew wider. “You should come spend a day with us. I think you can spare it, don’t you? Your preparations are nearly complete, aren’t they?”

  “…I’m waiting on a reserve fuel tank and some blaster parts to be delivered.”

  “And once they are, you’ll be free?”

  Sighing, I nodded. “Yes.”

  “Good. Come spend the day with us.” She arched an eyebrow and added, “After you resolve things with Obi-wan. I don’t want things to be awkward between the three of us.”

  “Very well,” I agreed.

  Nodding, Satine turned and waved as she left my ship. “See you then.”

  I sank a bit lower in my seat, letting out a quiet groan. You would think that being a female now myself and having spent a collective… twenty-one years as one—almost as long as I spent as a man!—that I would have some sort of bonus to understanding females. I should have a racial bonus for being a member of the species who can detect emotions natively!

  And yet…

  No. Women were just as vexing now as they were when I was human, or when I was a man. Sure, I could tell what they were feeling now, but not the why and everything else that went with it. Being able to sense emotions helped, but it wasn’t the cheat skill it should have been.

  …Where’s my reincarnation isekai cheat skill?! I want my money back!

  Shaking my head, I picked up the chair and turned back to my weapons bench. Putting the trouble I hadn’t even been aware of with Obi out of my mind for now, I went back to working on my toys.

  I’ll just have to settle for cool laser swords and guns, and my own space ship.

  Sitting on my meditation mat on the Skipray, I considered the projection sitting across from me.

  Finally, the Gatekeeper broke the silence. “You have been unusually quiet today.”

  “Thinking,” I admitted. “The Mandalorians have an oath and a code. The Jedi have a code. What do the Sith have?”

  Ajunta Pall’s projection chuckled. “A code of their own, of course. It was written by Sorzus Syn and popularized by Darth Bane—the man who made this holocron. Would you like to hear it?”

  “Please.”

  “Very well. It goes: ‘Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I gain victory. Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall set me free.’” Shifting where he sat, he said, “Meditate upon the words and tell me what you think they mean.”

  Comparing the words to the Jedi code, I found it to be almost an inversion or corruption of the former.

  There is no emotion, there is peace/Peace is a lie, there is only passion.

  There is no ignorance, there is knowledge/Through passion, I gain strength.

  There is no passion, there is serenity/Through strength, I gain power.

  There is no chaos, there is harmony/Through victory, my chains are broken.

  There is no death, there is the Force/The Force shall set me free.

  It wasn’t quite one for one, though. A proper inversion would be something along the lines of, starting at the second stanza, There is no weakness, there is strength. Then reverse the next two lines. And the last line would be something like, The Force shall set me free from death.

  On a surface level run through, it was obviously meant not as an inversion, but a contradiction. To correct what was wrong with the Jedi code.

  Going a level deeper… The entire thing was predicated upon a lie, or a fallacy. That peace was a lie. That was patently false. There were many kinds of peace, some more easily attainable than others.

  Peace through negotiation. The peace of the sword/gun. Peace through superior firepower. The peace of being the only person or group around. The peace of death.

  One could argue that perhaps it was a translation error, or an issue with being too literal. Perhaps ‘peace’ in this instance should instead read order, or stability, leading to stagnation. That that version of ‘peace’ was false, and taking the rest of the code into context, only conflict bred growth, evolution, and thus strength.

  Except if they wanted to say that, they would have. No, it says what it says. ‘Peace is a lie, there is only passion.’ Which, in context, must be taken to mean both peaceful relations with others and inner peace. And again, it’s a fallacy.

  The rest of the code, save for the last line, was a simple logical progression of events. Passion leads to strength, leads to power, leads to victory, which breaks one’s chains. All of that seemed agreeable, though the part about breaking chains seemed questionable. What chains? Was this written by a slave? That was actually a genuine possibility and it could be that, in a game of Chinese whispers across the ages, some slave’s rambling about how becoming strong in the Force would free them had been reinterpreted time and time again and made an integral part of the Sith code.

  The last line, like the first, was a statement of fact, as far as the code seemed concerned. It stated three of those: Peace is a lie. There is only passion. The Force shall set me free. But again, the entire thing was predicated upon a mistruth.

  “It’s wrong. Either unintentionally, because whoever created it was a midwit, or very intentionally and the creator was lying to their followers to appeal to mass stupidity with promises of strength. With the first option, it’s someone trying to sound edgy and deep while not actually understanding what peace is, or that peace and passion can and do go hand in hand. With the second, the lie undermines everything that comes from it, making it fruit of the poisoned tree—with the implication that you must accept this untruth, that peace is a lie, in order to progress through the stages of gaining and exercising power. The bit about breaking chains reads like some slave’s agonized notes on how they’ll gain power through the Force, free themselves, and get even with their captors and at a guess, has been twisted upon itself and reinterpreted countless times over the ages to mean whatever the person reciting it wants it to mean. The last line is either a repetition and reinforcement of that, or someone actually understood the last line of the Jedi code, agreed, and delved into how to become a Force ghost. In which case, we should probably start worrying, because it means that every Sith with an IQ above room temperature figured it out as well and also found a way to stick around.”

  I stood and stretched as the Gatekeeper’s expression shifted between amused, annoyed, and thoughtful. Picking up the holocron, I opened the cargo deck hatch and made my way down to its hiding place. “Oh, and with ten minutes of thought, I’ve made one better: Peace without passion is surrender. Passion without peace is pointless. Combat ignorance with knowledge and passion, for it is with both that we gain strength. Order without chaos causes stagnation, chaos without order consumes itself. Seek balance in the Force and all things. Five truths and two simple directives: combat ignorance and seek balance.”

  Sighing, I shook my head. “Give it a few hundred years and someone will twist it around to mean we should genocide the stupid and lazy and that’s the only way to bring balance to the universe. But if it means getting rid of the middle management types those traits tend to produce, I might be okay with that.”

  “That…” Pall’s projection frowned, tilting his head slightly. “Hm.”

  Pausing, I glared at the Gatekeeper. “Don’t repeat that. Any of it. To anyone. Ever.”

  I used the Force to pull, slide, push, and again slide open the small, hidden panel I’d created for the holocron. Opening the foam lined box I’d gotten to secure it from potential damage, I slotted it in and held the lid open a moment.

  “I’ll be back later. I need to go get adopted and become a Mandalorian. And then,” a grin pulled at my lips, “we go to war~.”

  For some reason, the gatekeeper laughed as I closed the lid on it.

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