A/N: A little Jedi Purge vignette. Very short.
I chose Ungel IV as a safe
place almost at random. I say almost, because even in this, I tried to trust the
Force. Actually, everything is so chaotic right now seeing into the future is
practically impossible, even for me, and I have a natural gift for it.
Everything is so uncertain; the Force is constantly roiling to those who can
see. As for those that can’t, they generally see the galaxy well enough.
Thankfully, that is something the children do not see, for the most part. Seeing into the future is first taught to older Padawans, though all Force-sensitives carry the ability to some extent.
The children are most of the reason I chose Ungel IV. They cherish children here. They actually have quite a lot of them – children, that is – but due to a plague about a hundred years back, that wasn’t always the case. The Republic intervened, and the planet as a whole was saved, but most of the children died. So. Lots of cherished children. Seemed like the perfect place to bring twenty young initiates to me. Not to mention a whole crowd of them would just blend right in here.
I take walks a lot. The streets are very carefully designed for the children, with crosswalks and colorful bars lining the landspeeder lanes everywhere. It’s a pleasant place, lots of non-dangerous trees and shrubbery. I like to walk, of course, and its good exercise, but the other reason I go out frequently is to get a sense of things. I reach out into the Force, and try to see any danger ahead. For the past few weeks, it’s been pretty peaceful. A few scares, a few warnings from the Force, but not much, overall. Much better than the last place I brought the initiates.
Of course, I have Kella too. Kella is a Padawan who lost her Master pretty early on into this purge. When I’m gone, she takes care of the initiates in the huge apartment I rented. I’ve started handing out some of the younger initiates to willing – and quiet – couples. I know, even if others do not, that this will not be resolved soon. Perhaps not in my lifetime. Or what would be my lifetime … ? Don’t get morbid, Terik. The Empire will grow and spread; that much I have seen. Kella doesn’t know this, or perhaps does not want to, and she disapproves of my arranging adoptions. She won’t say anything, though, that I know. On some level, she sees me as more than a Jedi Knight, but someone to teach her, and she misses – and hopes for – that desperately.
I’m still making up my mind. Kella is probably not what I would have chosen as a Padawan, but that’s all right. I never knew Yoda himself would assign me to take these initiates and keep them safe. Nor did I know I would stumble upon Kella, freshly grieving from the death of her Master. She’s only fourteen, young for a human.
Life is funny that way. Even to those of us gifted with foresight.
I stretch out my senses. Kella is calm, perhaps meditating, and so are the twelve children still left. Everything is well, then.
Perhaps I should take Kella as my Padawan. I don’t know how long I’ll be here, or her. I should take life as it comes, as Kella is struggling to do. As are all the Jedi, really. I hear rumors, whispered conversations that I overhear, about Jedi being captured and killed, and sometimes of great escapes. Some are almost too fantastical to be believed, even for me, but the Force has no limits, and apparently no lack of imagination either.
I suppose I see a little of myself in Kella. I disapproved of most things Masters did when I was her age – which hasn’t changed much, actually, except now I actually speak up. I do rather go against the grain, sometimes to bad results, I must admit. And arguing with Yoda is never wise, especially in front of possible teachers for you. Still, I was chosen, by an elderly Jedi who decided to live vicariously through my amazing ability to never do things quite right. He laughed a lot. I still miss him.
I’d better head back. Kella doesn’t like being left alone, even if she sees the necessity of me going off to check things out elsewhere every once in a while. She wonders why she can’t do what I do, and it’s hard to explain to her that I know how to hide myself, my Jedi traits, my lightsaber, as well as my foresight abilities. I’ve always wondered, though, if my foresight was more of a burden than a gift. It doesn’t always show me things, things that I thought it would have. It has never shown me things I can’t change, which I suppose is a gift.
What I do see is bad enough.
Yes. Heading back. I turn around on a corner, shifting through the crowd easily. They’re all calm, irritated, amused – normal things. No paranoia or suspicion or threat. It’s calm. Even content. It’s nice, actually.
I think I need to talk to Kella. And get more of those initiates out. A Jedi should never take things for granted –
And it ends. Changes. The Force takes me as I die instantly from the explosive force of the missile that I never saw coming, that I see now, and there’s all this light, and I never realized it would be so . . .