Chapter 31: The Parle

Emi shuttered at this, looking very displeased by their situation but neither shocked nor distressed. She seemed ready to make an undoubtedly very formal remark when their speeder suddenly jerked to the left. The craft in front of them seemed to be planning to kamikaze itself into another billboard to take the Jedi down with it. Rey quickly leaped up and crawled onto the hood with her lightsaber. She was about to cut the cable when Emi yelled, “Cut the metal around the clam, and you won't be electrified.”

The Jedi Master found this genius and did so, freeing their speeder from the cable just in time. Their pilot grunted while pulling hard on the steering wheel, turning their vessel around just in time. They re-entered the traffic lane, and everyone let out a collective sigh of relief.

Once back in her seat, Rey let out a sigh of relief and blurted out, “Guess those speeches did the trick.” Although new to politics, the Jedi could put one and one together. Her speeches were released in the morning, and now, suddenly, people were trying to kill her. It would be idiotic to not connect the two events with each other.

Her aide hid her weapon and nodded professionally, “Indeed, we'll have to step up security.”

As if on the queue, two military-grade escorts arrived beside them, and a woman in a New Republic uniform waved to them. Rey saluted back as the ships took a defensive position around their speeder. She then turned to Emi and inquired, “I didn't know there were weapons hidden on these ships.”

Without so much as a smile, she responded, “I took the liberty of preparing all your transports and personal areas in case of an attack.”

Rey was surprised, then blurted, “Wait, you're saying there are blasters in my room. What if Fama gets one?”

Emi responded blankly, “I doubt that even you wouldn't be able to find all of them.”

Rey didn't know if she was more frightened by this information or by the fact that it almost sounded like Emi had made a joke. She blinked and blurted, “You were trying to be funny just now, weren't you.”

The woman's face revealed nothing, and she didn't respond.

Once at the Parle, the aid swiftly escorted Rey into the place where it was being hosted and into a dressing room. With no robes available, she was changed into a dark blue woman's suit that felt even stuffier than her old clothes. Still, she had to admit she looked dashing when looking in the mirror. The Jedi permitted some perfume to be applied to her to cover the smell of electrified skin and exploding speed. Then she was off to the meeting.

She secretly rejoiced that this event seemed to be printed towards spectating. A butler had escorted her and Emk to a private booth in a large auditorium. To Rey’s pleasant surprise, her boxmate was, in fact, Minerva. The old woman instantly locked her in a tight hug and blurted, “My goodness. I was so worried when they said you had been attacked.

Sucking in a breath, the Jedi weeded out, “I'm really ok.” Once the older woman released her, Rey went on, “They only burnt my robe a little.”

Looking outraged, Minvera stamped her foot, grumbling, “A blew up three transports in the process. This is going to be all over the Galactic news. They even had you on camera.”

Rey winced at this and asked, “Is that bad.”

Minerva suddenly grew chipper, “Oh, not at all, dear. In fact, it's quite good. You've already got everyone in an uproar. This will just add fuel to the fire. It's really a blessing in disguise.” The woman realizes what she had said, and her checks inflated with air as she ranged, “Which is not to say it should have happened in the first place.”

Rey laughed and nodded, “I understand. Trust me, I've survived worse.”

The Vice-Chancellor nodded and smiled, stroking the Jedi's cheek, “You're so brave, I shouldn't doubt you.” She then turned to Emi, who had a startling smile on her face and said, “You too, my dear. Your marksmanship was incredible.”

Looking elated, Emi responded, “It was my pleasure to be of service.”

At this moment, a male voice resounded through the auditorium, and Minerva grew excited, “You two come along, I've been waiting for this for a while.” She chased them over to a row of comfy seats and quickly added, “These are some of the best poets and word smiths in the Galaxy. Let's hear what they have to say.”

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Even Rey, who disliked politics, had to admit the Parle was truly magical. She never knew mere words could convey such emotion and depth. It was not just their arrangement but also the way they were spoken. Most of the presenters naturally talked of peace. Some spoke of hope. Others gave warnings. While some spoke of duality and compromise. Each viewpoint was strikingly unique and contained traces of a greater truth that made one feel mystified and inspired.

Rey personally felt attracted to one line that went:

And selfless, we must lay down our own lives for the glory of tomorrow.

Fearing, not ridicule or scorn.

Sacrificing all we have and giving it to the children of the future.

Standing tall against the bellowing winds of fate.

Dedicating our lives to the prosperity of days we will never see.

In contrast, Minerva adored a particular poem presented by a person whose species she could not recognize. Its language likewise was foreign to her, but once finished with its rambling talk full of earthy syllables, Minerva wiped a couple tears from her eyes and commented, “That was so beautiful, wasn't it.”

Rey nodded and responded after a small hum, “Ah, yes. He was amazing.”

Minerva snickered and commented, “Lady Sev’la is female.”

The Jedi blushed and corrected herself, “I'm sure she was amazing.”

Minerva laughed and lightly patted Rey's side, “Don't worry, dear, even I get lost during talks like these. Just enjoy it and learn what you can.”

Rey smiled and nodded, continuing to take in the different cultures and viewpoints on display. It truly was an educational experience and opened her eyes to much she hadn't been aware of. These people did not just talk of peace but of the cost of peace, its struggles, and difficulties. One went into great detail on the evil of political corruption, while another talked about how democracy did not always imply infallibility. They all preached the same note of peace but left one asking deep and meaningful questions about how it could and should be achieved.

The Jedi felt at peace taking in this knowledge and felt a deep desire to meditate for several hours and mull things over. However, it would be a waste to miss one minute of the Parle, so she remained focused. After several hours, all the presenters had shared their piece but one. The last speaker to come up surprised Rey and made her feel uneasy. It was Admiral Primidian, her godfather.

He was dressed in a white robe with a cape that contested against his grey hair and golden eyes. He looked like a prince and a sage simultaneously, giving off an otherworldly feeling. The audience grew deathly silent, though Minerva squealed and whispered to her companion, “We're in for a treat. The Admiral hands give any speeches anymore.”

Rey blinked at this and asked, a bit hesitant, “Is he that good.”

Minerva nodded quickly and responded, “He's one of the last Grand Scholars in the Galaxy.”

The Jedi didn't know what this meant and asked, “What's a Grand Scholar.”

However, the man stepped forward at this point, and Minerva snapped, “Hush.”

In a well-paced and rich voice, the man began to speak in a language Rey could roughly understand: “Today, I will not speak of peace but of war. When there is no peace, there can only ever be war, and war will continue until there is peace. We, as a Galaxy, stand at a crossroads; the past is behind us, and two roads lead forward. I will now speak of the path that does not lead to peace.”

He paused, looking over the audience that hung on his every word before continuing, “At the beginning, this path will seem boundless. Leading on towards a glorious horizon beyond which lies all one's dreams. You will look off into the distance and see towering monuments and vast fields of golden harvest. The wind will be at your back, and you will have many comrades by your side. You will feel unstoppable, touched by grace, and ready to achieve your destiny. Ready to walk on and reach beyond that far horizon.”

His voice grew stronger as he continued, “You will march forward, a valet choir singing forth from the sky. You will start running, your heart racing, ready to live and die for your home, loved ones, and a bright future. You will go far and see many wonders. You will think you have made the right choice.”

The mans face and tone grew grim, “But in time, as years pass on, you will run out of breath. Younger soldiers will pass you by, and in time, you will begin to slow. Eventually, your limbs will be heavy and your breath haggard. You will realize you are no closer to that horizon than when you started. You will look around and realize something amiss.”

He gestured outwards as if the world he was describing lay before him, “You will smell death on the wind and look out to those vast fields. Amid the rocks and stones, you will see countless bodies. Some are your friends, some are your family, but most will be strangers. You will look down at the earth and realize it is soaked in blood. You will stage forward and find the monuments are not of your valor but of mockery. You will feel lost, and you will feel regret.”

He let out a deep sigh and continued, “Then, in the distance, you will hear the howl of wolves closing in on you. It is too late to turn back and too late to slow down. You must keep moving, or you will become just another body in the fields. You will run now, not excited but full of terror. You will watch your comrades and loved ones fall behind and be devoured by these wolves. Fear will be the only thing that compels you for your own life. You will not mind killing those that stand in your way and thus become a wolf yourself. You will grow angry at yourself for having chosen such a path for having become a monster. You will then start to hate your comrades for convincing you to walk this path and yourself for being too weak to change your fate. And in the end, you will end up alone, suffering, with only the dead and the wolves to keep you company.”

The hall was as still as death; everyone was transfixed by his words, as though trapped on the path he described. Primidian then finished slowly, “If you are lucky, you may one day cross that far horizon, and you know what you will find... You will find yourself back at the beginning with a choice between two paths.”

Looking intensely to the audience, he asked, “Which will you choose?”