3-27 PRINCIPLES

“I… I guess I do have a few more things, Master,” you say.

Master Yoda eases himself down into his seat again as you recompose yourself. He inclines his head, peering at you as he patiently waits.

You think back — back through the last year of excitement. There have been several times when you just knew something or referenced something that you have no source of. “Servitors,” “dark gods,” “the God-Emperor.” Who, or what are these?

Now, you have an idea of where these words, these phrases, came from.

Other-you.

But, what they really mean, you do not know.

“Master,” you begin,” are there times where you just… know things? Times when you know a word or something and you have no idea where it came from?”

“Hmm. Yes.” Master Yoda brings a hand to his chin and scratches as he thinks. “Not too long ago, perhaps. Spoke of the war I did. Called it the “Clone Wars,” but I know not why, for the clones are only a part of this conflict. A work of the Force, I believe. Familiar with this phenomenon, are you?”

“Yes, Master. But, I don’t think it’s the Force that’s giving me this information.I think it’s other-me, the Navigator in my dreams.”

“An example, if you would.”

“Sometimes, I, uh, use bad words that don’t make sense.”

“Oh? Perhaps refer you to Master Binaj, I should.”

“No!” you cry out in panic. You’re too old to be disciplined for cursing!

“Heh! Severe, these vulgarities are? Judge them, I shall. Go on!” he says, waving his gimer stick at you.

At that, you hesitate. Do you really want to curse in front of Master Yoda?

…Hel, why not? This is probably going to be your only chance ever to get away with this kind of thing!

“Er, groxshit. Hel. Karking.”

Master Yoda gasps dramatically, holding his hand over his wide mouth. “Initiate! A dirty mouth befits a Jedi not!”

You nervously grin as he chuckles, but your smile fades as you remember the other knowledge you have. “Master, there’s more than just these. Last night, while I was, um… half-dreaming, I started cursing out what I called dark gods. A Prince. A bird. A god of war and anger. A god of rot and decay.”

Master Yoda quiets down, contemplating your words. “Dark gods…” he repeats. “The Dark side, or something else? Words from your other-self, these are?”

“Yes.”

“Gods…” he mutters. “Truly, gods? Speak of your dreams, you did. Rot and decay, you’ve seen in your last dream, yes? A ritual, perhaps to this fourth god you mentioned.”

You nod your head, connecting the dots. ‘An infestation,’ the marine had said. An infestation of… cultists? Heretics.

Cultists of a dark god.

“There’s also the God-Emperor,” you comment. “He’s… I guess he’s other-me’s ‘God.’ And that of the marines. Other-me had a card with a picture on it depicting him. It wasn’t very pretty.”

“Oh?”

“He’s a big corpse on a golden throne, but he’s somehow still alive. I think.”

“A living God? Certain, you are?”

“I’m not sure if he’s actually living, but yes. People worship him, at least.”

Master Yoda rubs his hands together, looking more concerned than before. You wince inwardly. You really are a bag of endless trouble, aren’t you? And now, you’ve burdened the Grandmaster with it when he’s already got his hands full with a brewing war.

He sighs, then looks up at you. You return the gaze with your warpfire eyes, your more dangerous one concealed behind the headband. “Master?”

“Dangerous, these dreams still seem to be. Not an immediate danger to you, perhaps. However, a danger to all if not explored fully. If a symbol of the future, this is, then prepare for it we must. If something else, then still prepare for it we shall. Continue, if you can. Learn more and prepare both yourself and us all, your task is. A Navigator, you wish to be? Then, Navigate us to safety I implore you to do.”

Your mouth hangs open in… shock? Confusion? You’re not sure which one holds you stronger. However, you find it within yourself to give a shallow nod which he seems to accept.

“Anything else, Youngling?”

You nod again.

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“A lighter matter, I hope.”

You shrug and he sighs.

“Master, I’ve been helping Master Corr in the Halls of Healing.”

“Heard of this, I have. Glad, I am, for your assistance.”

“Um, thank you. Master Corr taught me Force Healing, and I’ve finally gotten a hang of it. I’ve been working on mostly Jedi now, since it seems the clones are mostly done with here. I’m… I’m not sure where they’re going after they’re treated. Do you know?”

“Returned to the army, they are. A duty, they still have left to serve.”

“But, there’s some that don’t seem like they can! I’ve been talking to one of them — a clone named Tension. His leg is gone. How can he go back to serving? And, there’s others. So many other maimed troopers without hands or arms or legs or feet! And then… and then there’s those that aren’t just maimed in body, but also in mind.”

You fall silent as you remember what you’ve seen.

While you spent most of your time in the clone section of the Halls talking with Tension, you’ve still seen the other clones. There are those that just don’t wake up, deathly still in comas — medically induced or not. There was one that would only babble, unable to return to the reality that he survived.

Yes, they may be resilient, but they’re still practically baseline humans. They can still suffer trauma, no matter how conditioned they are against it.

“What… what happens to them?” you quietly ask. “They’re not citizens. They’re not people according to Republic law. They’re just replicae. The Materium and Immaterium reflect one another, and both are unhappy about their existence. The public. The Jedi. Reality itself. Master, there’s so many things wrong with having such an army. How can you stand it? How can the Order stand it?”

A pause. Quietude. Master Yoda is frozen in his seat.

Aged. Grieving. Tired. Conflicted.

Finally, he stirs, turning his ancient eyes toward you once again. “Questions, I ask of myself daily. Principled, a Jedi must be, but face an existential threat we do. Slaves, these clones are. Heard this, I have. Crushed, my heart is.”

He turns away, looking off in the direction of the Halls of Healing.

A Jedi lies back and gives a final exhalation, his young Padawan panicking beside him.

Two clones carry another on a stretcher, quietly apologizing and excusing themselves as they bear their brother away.

A civilian child screams, his mother terrified as dozens of identical men hobble past, each one sporting at least one missing limb.

“How can the Order stand it?” he repeats. “A better question there is: how can the Order survive this? Unclear, the answer is. Factions building, there already are — already have been. But, sworn we are. Oathed to defend the Republic, the Jedi are, and oathbreakers we are not. Change is coming. Good or bad, meet it we must.”

Change. Stupid bird.

You blink, looking back at Master Yoda as he seems to shrink in his seat. A tiny, worn out old man sits before you. One who bears the weight of the world — of the galaxy, stepping on his own principles to balance the load.

“Master, that word: replicae. That’s another word.”

“Wash your mouth, you should.”

“Master!”

He chuckles, coming back to life again. However, you see the burden only shifting from one shoulder to another. There is no diminishing that pain. Not yet.

“Bear this, we must, young Xena. Work with the clones, we shall, for no other solution exists. However, ease their suffering, we will as well. Advocate for them, for better conditions during and after the war, many Jedi are ready to do.”

“Advocate? Just that? We can’t do more?”

“Yes, and no. Defend them, we can. Heal them, we can. But, power we do not wield. The Senate controls the army and provides for the army. Generals, we shall be, but not much more. Limited resources, the Order has. Diminished them even further, the prelude to the war already has.”

“This still… it’s still terrible, Master.”

“Indeed,” he wearily sighs. “Indeed.”

It really is awful.

This army serves the Republic, but what loyalty does the Republic garner from them? They have no rights, if what you’ve heard is true. They have no pay. They have no families. They have no future.

And this replicae thing…

What can you do but watch in horror as the Immaterium bites back? What can you do but duck and hope you don’t end up in the crosshairs of the reassertion of reality?

You’re a Jedi. You can’t just run away.

This is your home. You must defend it.

“Master Yoda? Who is this other Master you have in mind for me? What would I be doing if I became his Padawan? I can’t make a proper decision if I don’t know who he is.”

Master Yoda wavers, broken out of his thoughts. You catch a glimpse of faces flashing by. Emotions. Signatures of Force. Life and Death. And then, it’s gone.

He faces you and nods.

“A reasonable request, this is. However, ask you to wait, I shall. Soon to be without a Padawan he will be, I said. Wait until he is ready, then allow you to know, I will. Desire that you bother him not, I do.”

“I wouldn’t do that!”

“Oh? Well, an interesting surprise it is supposed to be. Surprising for both you and him!”

“But not you.”

“A joke, it shall be. The punchline, you are. Defeat the purpose of the joke, it would, if allow you to know and unwittingly reveal it you did.”

“That’s not fair, Master. I can keep a secret! You don’t trust me?”

“Trust you? Yes, I do. However, amuses me, this does. Wait for me, you must. A good exercise in patience, this will be!”

You’re tempted to stamp your feet, but you just barely hold back. As Master Yoda would say, it would not ‘befit a Jedi.’ And so, you pout instead, achieving absolutely nothing as usual.

Why is it that your Masters never take pity on you?

Feh! Perhaps you’ll go about it another way. You’ve got your witchsight and your Telepathy. Maybe you can… extract it from him.

It’ll have to be later, though, as right now, you need to get going. You’ve been here in conversation for much too long and Master Yoda seems about ready to kick you out too.

“Fiiiine. Thank you, Master Yoda. I’ll think about what we talked about — responsibility and whatever. And, thank you again for, er, ‘testing’ me.”

“You’re most welcome, Xena. Soon, we shall speak again.”