A New Jedi in an Old Republic

Raven's Claw

Mace Windu meditated in the cockpit of the small courier. So much new information had been revealed to him about the Knight-Errant, and he desired time to ponder these pieces of the puzzle.

The small ship that he possessed was revealing in of itself. Normally he would not have considered such a thing as relevant, but on the trip to Garamost, its presence was undeniable. It was obviously a courier boat – the oversized engines and lack of long term amenities meant that it was designed to go from one place to another with alacrity and all due haste.

He had been on ships that were large enough that their crews had considered them home. The love displayed by the sentient people aboard was enough to give their ships a certain level of personification and a connection to it that bordered on something that a Force user would find familiar.

There was no sense of that here. Katarn and his pilot treated the ship with respect, but it was not a home to them. It made sense, really. There was nowhere to live on this ship, which consisted of the pilot's chamber, a long hallway down the neck of the thin ship, a couple sleeping berths and a small cubicle for everything else.

It meant, to Windu, that Katarn had a home to go to. To return to. And that this ship was the means to do it for him.

The pilot, Ors, ignored him as she sat in the other seat in the cockpit. The ship was on auto-pilot, and they would soon arrive in their destination system. Katarn was in the back with his preparations, whatever they might be.

Therefore, now was as good a time as any to ask Ors some questions. "Jan Ors."

"Master Windu?" The response was easy. She was used to not only dealing with Jedi, but powerful and high-ranking people as well. On one hand, he didn't have to worry about overawing her, yet it also meant that the usual status of 'I am a Jedi' would hold no weight with her.

"If I may, I have a couple questions." He hadn't conducted a proper interview like this in quite some time, and he was worried for a moment that his skills had rusted.

"About the mission, or about Kyle?" Mace recognized in Jan's reply that she was expecting this.

"A bit of both, I confess," he replied with seriousness. "I am still not sure what to make of him as he keeps his secrets tightly about him."

"you have no idea," Jan muttered under her breath. "Let's just keep it to the mission for now. I'm not about to talk about Kyle's private life."

"I understand," Mace backed off. "He spoke about how this is supposed to be a trap for the Sith, spies in the Senate. However, while he has stated the end points, he did not explain how this mission came to be."

Jan saw the questions, and ran them through her training to determine what she could or could not speak. She had tried to find out what the exact relationship was between the Jedi and the Republic, but the laws and protocols were quite vague. It was like they were separate and distinct from the greater Republic, yet at the same time unified with them. A parallel organization that was in total cooperation.

No wonder the Republic fell into Empire so quickly, she accepted. It was a hodge-podge of changes and improvements over its history and finally Palpatine took it all down to build the Empire as a unified whole in its place.

"The Republic," she chose her words carefully, "has received information that it trusts and is working on it. I cannot tell you more without risking my clearance, or without knowing exactly where you stand with Republic Intelligence."

Mace retorted. "The High Council advises the Chancellor."

"Which means nothing." Jan stated flatly. "You said it your self. You advise. You do not command. You do not lead. You do not set policy for the Republic. Do you tell the Republic about all the covert operations you run?"

Mace was caught in the logic trap. He knew about the infiltration of the Dark Acolytes by Vos, and also knew that the High Council had decided to keep it from the Chancellor and the Senate, believing that it was more an internal matter between Jedi and their fallen brethren.

To admit to it was to admit to a certain degree of hypocrisy. That is what she was getting at, was it not? He could not speak without the failure of the High Council being admitted to. Yet, they had failed, had they not? She spoke truth, there was no doubting what she said with her words, her body language, and through his senses in the Force.

When had the High Council become a power unto themselves?

Hyperspace, en route to Garamost

Ventress relaxed in her compartment aboard the transport as it slid through the realm beyond the material world toward their destination. Meditating in the Force, she could see and feel the five other sources around her. The troubled Vos was easy to pick out, while the twins sparred in the cargo hold, eager to land and destroy their enemies. They had energy to spare.

She could also feel the other two doing their things before returning to her own thoughts.

And what troubled thoughts they were.

She had accepted the invitation under the impression that the modern Sith had found her and she was worthy of the name.

Peace is a lie. There is only passion.

The first line of the Sith Code. She had read it at Dooku's behest, and still studied it. She knew the Jedi Code, and saw how the two were mirrors of each other. The first part was obvious. There was War in the galaxy. The notion of peace was itself impossible as there would always be conflict. To be at peace was to be dead.

Dead in body or in mind, she wondered. Letting her senses drift aimlessly through the Force, she decided that it was the death of the spirit that was described by 'Peace'. If one's personal existence was still, that there was nothing you were pushing against either actively or proactively, then you might as well be dead.

Passion, therefore, was the opposite of peace. To have passion was to be alive. Life itself was motion, and passion drove it. It didn't matter what it was for, as long as one had a goal to strive for, it was worth going after. Giving up? No, that way led to peace. Changing one's goals? Acceptable as it would avoid a certain amount of stagnation.

Through Passion, I gain strength.

Building up from that, movement was not free. A goal could not be attained without effort. And as anyone with two brain cells could tell you, effort begat strength. It wasn't passion itself that made you strong and mighty, but rather what focus and effort that you put into your passions granted you the strength the Code spoke of.

And here, she found herself adrift.

She had naturally observed her fellow Acolytes, and it seemed that they had made a mistake in this section of the Code. They acted and spoke as though simply having a passion – in most cases a lust for combat – was itself a source of strength. That they would be able to attain what they wanted simply because they had the passion for it, that they had the strength for it.

But that wasn't what it meant! She wanted to verbally berate them for it, but it seemed like she was in a minority. Other Acolytes held their tongues as well, so she could not be certain where they lay in that regard.

What were these self-professed Sith if they could miss something like that in the very Code they follow? It was not a if-then statement, it was to show a logical progression from a rejection of 'peace' and death into motion, the motion allowed you to become strong.

Through strength, I gain power.

What is the difference between Strength and Power. Mother Tanzin would probably sneer at her and insult her for failing to see it. If the old crone ever got her head out of the clouds of chemicals she played with day in and day out.

As she let herself drift, a thought came to her. What if strength was internal, and power was external? It would make a certain amount of sense, if one were to look at Dooku. No one doubted that he was strong. Indeed, it was commonplace for him to prove it through the usage of the Force, through sparring with multiple Acolytes at the same time, or through his physical presence.

If power was an external factor, then it was true that he had it as well. He commanded armies, the Acolytes, and many other things. He could stand on equal footing to the Chancellor of the Republic if it came down to it.

But how then did one lead to the other?

The most obvious answer left distaste in her mouth, that Dooku's strength allowed him to impose power on the others around him. And while rule by the strongest seemed to be in accordance with the Sith way, she could not let go of the idea that it was also wrong.

Strength, strength, strength... There was the problem. It was somewhere in there that she would find her problem and her answer.

Perhaps the others could be of help? She turned her attention to the Twins. They sparred and practiced, moving in unison back and forth as they girded themselves for the fighting ahead.

They are weak!

She did not know why she thought that, but if if it were true, if they did not have strength, why would that be? They could move as one, fight as one, and it was....

They were one. That is why they were weak. They did not have strength because they could not conceive of themselves as apart, two joining into a whole. They were weak because they could not reach out past their shared ability.

On the bright side, this also meant that they were not the spies that Dooku was worried about.

She looked at the others, and saw nothing that could help her before her Force-visions settled on the Kiffir, Vos.

He was trying to meditate, but was not having much luck. She recalled her earlier observations about how the other Acolytes looked down on him because of this, because he did not give himself in to the Dark Side like they had.

He has strength!

She had seen him fight, surely, but she doubted that he would grow much more. He was too busy fighting himself to truly fight someone else. Yet, why had she thought that he was strong? Was it because of his internal conflicts, or as a result of it?

The difference, enlightenment appeared before her, shocking her with its simplicity, was that strength of the mind was different that strength of the body. It tied perfectly into her earlier acceptance that passion was a mental state!

She had to stop. The Code was not something for which understanding would come in one fell swoop. It was written in lines for a reason. Opening her eyes, she stood fluidly and and left her compartment.

Ventress knew that her next step in improving herself as a Sith lay in the internal conflicts of her fellow Acolyte. The mental fortitude and strength required to fight oneself was something she would need to understand, even if she could not learn it.

Behind her, in the quiet of the Force, unheard by anyone, someone laughed in joy.

Garamost

"Hey, Boss?" Fixer called out over the squad com from where he waited in the watchtower overlooking the casual landing pad.

"What is it, Fixer?" The Clone Commander responded professionally as he looked over the maps of the under-construction facility. Most of the work was being done by droids, and while he questioned the necessity of Delta Squad being here, he did not question the particulars of the job.

"You think this spook will arrive soon?"

"I don't know, and neither do you. So keep an eye out!" Boss shook his head for a moment. This entire mission was being handled through Republic Intelligence, and apparently Delta had impressed someone enough to believe they could handle it.

Boss trusted his brothers, but sometimes he had to wonder if they were a little too un-alike after their training on Kamino. "Sev, how goes?"

"Not bad, Boss." Sev, the team sniper replied. "Equipment checks out, and Scorch is laying the last of the explosives now."

"Excellent. Once you're done there, it will be your turn in the watchtower."

"Thanks," Sev replied. He didn't like the close quarters of the underground facility. The explosives were not necessary to the plan, but it had been suggested that they be planted as a fail-safe measure in case things went badly in a hurry.

Not that any of them knew what the plan was yet that it could go wrong in such a manner that destroying the place was a backup plan. They just followed orders.

Time passed before Sev and Scorch returned, Sev kicking Fixer out of the raised platform. It wasn't long after that Sev called out "Contact!"

"Report!" Boss snapped as he and his brothers readied themselves for the worst. Helmets on and sealed, weapons ready.

"Ship approaching low," Sev replied carefully, Boss was certain he was looking through the scope of his rifle. "2-man. Its IFF is squawking."

Fixer snapped to their computer and checked out the signal. "It's them, Boss. It's the transponder for the Intelligence agent."

"Right." Boss was ready for this, even though this would be the first time that he had dealt with the Intelligence branch in person. His training was thorough. "Give them the counter-signal and we'll meet them at the landing pad."

"On it, Boss." Sev closed his end of the channel.

"Let's go meet our new boss," Boss announced as he checked the safety on his rifle and shouldered it. "And learn what our mission is."

Raven's Claw

Mace waited near the rear landing pad with Ors as Katarn set down the ship. Once it was safe, the young woman opened the hatch and then waited for the Knight-Errant to join them before descending onto the open grasslands of this section of Garamost. He had been informed that most of the factory would be underground to help shield it from orbital attack, but with the first look around, it was impossible to think that there was anything more than a casual camp set up here with pre-fab buildings and a fence that might stop the local wildlife.

Three Clone Troopers waited near the edge of the marked field, and once Katarn joined them, the three descended, Ors leading the way.

"General," the Clone Commando replied. Mace could see the difference in the armor now that he was closer, and mentally changed his understanding of their capabilities. He thought he had seen these ones before, but nothing came to mind immediately.

"I am not a General," he said. "The Jedi have yet to accept military rank pending the results of our own training."

For a moment there was confusion in the Clones. "We were trained that the Jedi were to have such rank Gen.. sir."

"That is something for the future," Mace said. "My apologies."

"If it helps," Kyle said from behind Windu, "think of this as a Code... what was it again... 5-Alpha-1178? Dealing with non-Em-Republic Military forces."

The leader of the squad tilted his head in thought. "Ah.. yes. I wasn't expecting that. You are correct. Which one of you is from Intelligence?"

"I am," Jan said, stepping forward. She and the Clone traded passcodes, satisfying themselves of the validity of the other. "This is Kyle Katarn, and Master Mace Windu. Katarn is working with me, while Windu is observing on behalf of the Jedi order."

"RC-1138, Boss. RC1140, Fixer. RC-1262, Scorch. RC-1207, Sev is not present, but will be joining us later." Boss introduced his squad to Jan. "I was informed that Katarn would be with you, but the presence of the Jedi is irregular."

"It was a spur of the moment thing," Jan apologized. "They need to learn, and who else but from the best?" She added a charming smile, even as she buried her worry about working with these future Storm Troopers. "I trust you have been busy with the preparations?"

"We have, Ma'am." Boss fell in beside Jan as they started to go over the details of what was happening. Mace waited for Kyle before speaking to him quietly.

"You know the operational codes for the Clone Armies?"

He saw Kyle pause for a moment before responding. "A bit, yes. My information is a little out of date, but the majority of it should still be valid. I told them to treat you as a foreign, but allied military officer. They will still see themselves in charge, but won't turn down help if you offer it."

Mace didn't know how Katarn and his people got a hold of that information, but decided it was best left for another time. But then Katarn stopped. "Jan?"

"Yes, Kyle?" the human woman turned to look back at him. "What is it?"

"Forgot stuff on the ship. I'll catch up."

"Go get it then." Jan turned back to the Clone Commando and started talking again.

Mace followed Katarn back to the ship, Scorch joining them. Kyle quickly ascended then opened up a panel in the side of the ship that Mace felt contained supplies. He was confused when Kyle took off his shirt, then his confusion stopped when the Knight-Errant pulled out a Mandalorian-styled torso plate, which he donned with professional ease. The shirt went on back over it, and Windu saw that the loose folds of the worn white cloth hid the presence of the armor nearly perfectly.

Then Katarn pulled out a belt with a half-dozen thermal detonators already attached to it, wrapping it around his waist. Windu watched in fascination and a little bit of trepidation as the Knight-Errant added a small blaster-rifle to one hoslter, a larger rifle of a make he didn't recognize that was slung over his shoulder, then more and more weapons were added to what was rapidly becoming a personal arsenal.

Once he was done, Katarn looked at Windu. "Hey, you got any armor on? Little late to ask, I know."

"No," Windu stated, hiding his shock at what Katarn now carried. "What is all that?"

Kyle stepped down off the ship, closing it up behind him. The Clone Commando was staring at Kyle in surprise as well. "Sabre's are good and all, but sometimes you just got to shoot someone."

"Is that a rocket launcher?" Scorch asked the Knight-Errant.

"Yep! I suppose I should check it with whoever is in charge of such things when we get to the base," Kyle admitted, finding humor in the way the Clone was appreciating the heavier weapons on him. "Why? You the H-W-G of your squad?"

"As long as you aren't in the Squad, yes, Mister Katarn."

Kyle smiled. "Good. And," he looked back at Windu, "please tell me you guys have a spare armor or two we can fit to the Jedi Master here? It would be sad if someone shot him in the back and he couldn't protect himself."

Windu was about to object, that he could take care of himself when the concern from Katarn came through clearly to his senses. "That.. may be a good idea. Is that Mandalorian you are wearing?"

Kyle shook his head. "It is, but it's not the good stuff. It'll do the job, and from a distance people might mistake it for the real thing. Been useful far too many times to count."

"I see.... And you wear this often?"

"Only when I expect to get shot at."

Scorch stifled a laugh at that, before returning to proper professionalism. "If' you'll come with me, Sirs, I'll get you settled in."

"Thank you," Kyle said, with Mace repeating it after.

Windu wondered just what he was getting himself into that he was the one in need of protection.