Chapter 20: Conflict

Admiral Primidian smiled at this correction and nodded, “You have an excellent outlook if only your pupil shared your vision.”

Rey’s stomach sank thinking about Fama, but Minerva suddenly intervened, asking, “Finn has been misbehaving too much, has he?”

The Admiral shrugged helplessly, “He almost started shouting at Admiral Adolfus over the mid-rim fuel cell crisis and then accused him of insider trading.”

The Jedi Master blinked at this and looked to Minerva, asking, “Is Finn really that… outspoken.”

Minerva smiled in a pained manner, “Oh dear, this is actually a great improvement; three days ago, he called out Admiral Vissar for the Edon Genocide in front of a herd of reporters.”

Admiral Primidian nodded and added, “He may very yet bring the peace talks to a halt before they even begin.”

Rey wanted to facepalm, but Minerva nudged her softly, “Don't worry, nothing irreconcilable has happened yet. I’ve already made arrangements to keep him out of trouble once the talks start in earnest.”

The Jedi asked depressedly, “There was nothing you could do to hold him back.”

Minerva shook her head, “Sorry, dear, he’s part of Marcus’s crowd. The woman paused, then gestured to the Admiral, “My bad, dear, the conversation got away from me. This is Admiral Primidian, a sly dog and an old friend.” After considering a moment, she added, “You two talk well together; you haven't met before, have you.”

Her eyes appeared to burn with actuation towards the Admiral, who waved suavely, “It must be good chemistry.”

Minerva snorted at this and retorted, “You old tease, stop it.” The woman turned to Rey, adding, “This man has a silver tongue; don't let him trick you with his pretty words.”

Rey nodded, meeting the Admiral’s gaze, and responded, “Right, I’ll be sure to be careful.”

“You best be; if not, you could very well lose everything.” A cold and rich voice came from the distance. Turning to see who it belonged to, she saw Primidian looking calm and Minerval looking worried. The source of the voice was a man in his early fifties, with a short-cut black beard and eyes so brown they were nearly black. He had a strong build and carried himself with an air of authority. Arriving at the circle, he looked to Minerva, then Rey, ignoring the Admiral, “So this was why you left.”

Minerva glared at him irritated and responded, “Marcus. This is the leader of the Jedi Order, and you will treat her with respect.”

The Chancellor of the New Republic looked Rey over again and responded, “All the more reason to be cautious. Everyone has their price, and some people have deep pockets brought about by unmentionable deeds.”

Rey didn't like the man's assertion, but it still caused her heart to feel pain. Ultimately, she could only steel herself and respond, sending two messages at once: “Sir, a Jedi is not swayed by material temptations. Rather, we fulfill our duty to the people and follow the Will of the Force. Anything that results from this mission is simply meant to be.”

Marcus appeared skeptical and asked, “And what is a Jedi’s duty to the people. To uphold justice or sue for peace.”

Rey didn't want to answer; her righteous heart screamed one answer while her Jedi training answered differently. Ultimately, she could only bear this conflict and answer, “I don't see why one can’t try to achieve both.”

The Chancellor shook his head at this, “You're too young. In time, you’ll understand...” He paused to glare at the Admiral, “Peace and justice cannot be achieved by pretending that past wrongs never existed.”

Primidian coughed into a hand slightly before retorting, “But isn't it truly that simple. So long as we can set aside our differences and give up our past grudges, peace and justice will naturally follow.”

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With an unchanging voice, the Chancellor responded, "Justice and peace for whom I wonder. All people or just those here in this hall.”

With a similarly unphased optimism, the Admiral responded, “Aren't the people in this hall representative of the people at large? Even if some people feel indigent towards putting the past behind us, is it not our duty to consider the children of the future and to build a better Galaxy for them to live in.”

Rey noticed a rigidness overcome the Chancellor while Minerva went slightly pale at this. The leader of the New Republic nodded slowly and spoke with a reminiscent yet thoughtful tone, “Indeed…” An intense look filled his eyes as he spoke with renewed conviction, “For the sake of future generations, it is our duty to achieve peace and uproot the forces of evil that will eternally threaten that peace.”

Shaking his head, Primidian sighed, “No matter how many weeds you uproot, there will always be new ones sprouting where you least expect. Our Galaxy is not a garden in need of managing…” He paused as his gaze met the chancellors with equal intensity, “It is a shattered family in need of forgiveness.” Rey felt pressured by the tangible tension in the air. She felt there was something more to this ideological battle but couldn't decipher it. Both their points made sense, which was the truly maddening thing about it.

The Jedi felt she might suffocate under the growing pressure. A familiar voice growled at this point, “Forgiveness, that's rich coming from an Imperial.” In a fancy suit, Finn strutted into the conversation circle while glaring at the Admiral. He nodded to the Chancellor, “Sir.” following this, he nodded to the vice-chancellor, “Madam.” With the pleasantries out of the way, he addressed the Chancellor again, “Permission to speak, sir.”

Without breaking eye contact with the Admiral, he responded, “Of course, General Finn, please share your wisdom with us.”

Finn appeared happy to be held in such regard and winked to Rey subtly before monologuing, “Every time the Empire loses, it's suddenly time to talk about forgiveness. Then, once they regain even a little power, their back trying to control everyone.” His glare only intensified ripples in the Force rolled off him towards the Admiral, “Meanwhile, they had all the wealth and the best territories for themself, unwilling to let go of a single credit to help the people they hurt. Imperials don't want forgiveness and peace, only enough time to rebuild their military.”

The Admiral turned from the Chancellor, his face still pleasant, but his eyes were cold, unaffected by the mental pressure being applied to him via the Force. He responded calmly, “General Finn, you should be more careful with your words. It sounds like you're accusing the Remnant General Faction of not being sincere with these peace talks.”

Finn snorted as he intensified his Force pressure and nearly angrily shouted, “Sincere my a…”

Before he could continue, Rey lurched and grabbed his shoulder, interrupting with a pleasant but awkward tone, “Finn, don't be silly…” The next few words nearly caused her to choke, but she got out, “I'm sure everyone here wants peace just as much as we do.”

Finn's jaw dropped with shock while the Chancellor looked disappointed and indignant. Minerva looked relieved, while the Admiral looked pleased. Rey maintained a complexion of forceful calm and sincerity, though, inside, she was screaming. A few moments of silence passed, and Finn appeared to travel through several phases of shock. However, a loud musical cord was struck just before he could recollect himself. Minerva clapped her hands and quickly said, “Ah, it's time to dance.” She moved gracefully, grabbing the Chancellor's hands and adding, “Marcus, come enjoy a dance with me.”

The man seemed unwilling to leave the conversation as it was but, after a glance at the vice-chancellor, realized his best tactical move at the moment was to agree. At this same moment, the Admiral bowed to Rey like a gentleman offering, “Would Master Skywalker care for a dance.”

In a daze, she nodded and was instantly led away by the hand, leaving behind Finn with a baffled expression. The Jedi Master only managed to collect herself when she and the admiral had reached the innermost part of the hall and stood before a massive mural of unparalleled grandeur and artistry. She couldn't help but blurt the first thing that came to mind, “I don't know how to dance.”

The Admiral smiled at this before posting her hands on his forearms, staging calmly, “This is the greeting dance of the Alk’oide. All you need to do is move in a circle and step forward at the end of each rotation. Just follow my lead.”

As a beautiful song began, Rey followed the man's lead, clumsy, feeling embarrassed and irritated, but managed to adjust to the pace after a few cycles. She didn't look nearly as graceful as Minrava some thirty paces away, but it could be called dancing. Rey looked the Admiral in the eyes and grumbled, “Why did you invite me here? It has been a disaster.”

Her gaze was openly hostile, though the man only chuckled, “As I wrote on the invitation, I hoped the ball would give you some insight.”

Rey uncertainly glanced at the vast hall of dancing partners before responding, “It's definitely been depressing.”

With cunning eyes, the Admiral asked knowingly, “And why say that? Most people would say it’s a merry gathering.”

Rey looked at him irritatedly and retorted, “Because these people don't care. It's all about them and their social circles and their gossip. They aren't what I had imagined a Galactic representative to be like.”

Primidian looked outwards and nodded, “Indeed, I felt the same way when I was younger.” Looking back to Rey, he continued, "But that wasn't exactly what I had in mind.” Rey blinked uncomprehendingly. The Admiral gestured with his head out to the crowd, “Look closer, what do you see.” Understanding the hint she had received, Rey calmed her mind and contacted the Force before gazing out more.