A New Jedi in an Old Republic

Jedi Temple

Coruscant

Battlemaster Drallig did not pace, as that would mean that his students were not properly focusing their attention on him. "You've all volunteered to join the Grand Army of the Republic," he said to the assembled Masters, Knights and Padawans. Skywalker's personal stunt had been revealed through the system of rumours that might as well have been the Force incarnate for all the effort put into stopping it.

So he had been tasked with delivering refreshers and primers on combat to those select people who offered their services. Not only for the actual cause – to teach and remind them how to better defend themselves – but to also buy more time for the Council to figure out how to do this properly and to maintain the integrity of the Order.

They were in the tower even now, having discussions, he was sure of it.

And all that paled before the fact that he was teaching in the afternoon what he had learned in the morning. He hadn't had that sort of turnaround in many long years. "The first thing you need to know, to be prepared for," he said, "is that our enemies use blasters. Many of them. These are not opponents who wield lightsabers, or single rough vagabonds who take a couple poorly aimed shots while fleeing. Your enemies are remorseless droids, with mechanical precision and the ability to utilize that it its utmost. Therefore, the primary focus of your training will be in the third form."

He stopped to let his students consider that. "I am aware that some of you believe that this will not suffice. That the Fifth would be more appropriate. However, that form will not allow you to quit the field when under the same pressure as the third would allow. And when you do take to the offence, I will encourage you to rely on the First forms, for the simple motions will more than suffice when dealing with foes who are not other lightsabre wielders."

"And if we face them?" A human Knight asked what they were all thinking. "We've heard about Master Windu's battle against the three Dark Acolytes."

Cin answered quickly. "Fight in a manner you are comfortable with, but understand that your job is to survive, not slay these followers of the Dark Side. You may think there is glory or honour or fame in seeking them out, but we are not assassins. We are not the Jedi a thousand years dead who sought out battle and wrecked the Galaxy in the process."

Letting the weight of that sink in for a moment, he gestured off to one side. "I know that some of you are already competent in those styles, but as history has shown us, this is not the end of it. We will be practising while wearing armour contemporary to the ones worn by the soldiers of the Republic while Master Nu researches the proper construction of Jedi battle armor from the last time such things were needed."

"Why should we wear armor?" Master Rhof asked, the Radnoran looking with derision at the collected pieces of gear, some of which was new, while others were pulled from storage under the direction of the battlemaster. "The Force will protect us."

Cin crossed his arms, shook his head, and tapped his foot. It was out of character, and everyone's attention was on him as he raised one arm to point at Master Rhof. "Because"

The small blue blaster bolt snapped across the space behind Cin, the shooter high above on the walkways around the training facility. It hit Master Rhof square in the chest, knocking him down unconscious.

"... of that," Cin finished as he turned to look up at the distant Clone with the sniper rifle set to stun. He nodded and the clone began to pack up, mission done. "IT WAS A STUNNER!" He called out as the panicking Jedi had activated their sabres and had taken up a defensive posture around the fallen Master.

"You will be wearing armor because it will be one less thing to worry about. Armor will deflect blows that could hamper you, turn fatal wounds into survivable ones, and protect you from things that you may not have time to react to." He had their attention. "And once you have passed these basic lessons, then you will learn how to work in teams with the Clone Army," he announced, the cue for a squad of Clones to emerge from a nearby door and parade out to stand at attention beside him. "They will be of service to you, as you will be of service to them. It was mentioned earlier that Master Windu fought Dark Acolytes? You failed to mention that he was aided in that endeavour by an Intelligence operative, a mercenary, and a squad of Clone soldiers!" He did not enjoy disparaging the contributions of anyone involved in that incident, but he had a point to make, and that took precedence.

"Then, and only then, will you be ready to live in service of the Republic as more than just a Jedi."

Senate Building

Office of Mon Mothma

"Nice place," Jan said as she strolled in. "Definitely bigger than the old one."

"More room to put the spying devices, it seems." The Senator replied, looking up from her paperwork. "Thank you for coming so quickly."

Jan shrugged, then sat down in a chair in a very informal manner, one leg kicked out over the arm rest. "So, what can I do for you, Senator?"

"How good are you at being polite?" Mon Mothma asked with a hint of annoyance at Jan's antics. If her guess wasn't too far off, the future agent was playing up her 'low class' persona after being informed of the presence of the observation tools that could not be accounted for.

"I can say please," Ors looked around, all the signs pointing to her being a lowlife with connections. "Why?"

"One of my fellow senators is going on a diplomatic mission. Due to circumstances beyond her control, her usual ... entourage cannot go with her. And due to those self-same circumstances, I was hoping you would be able to be her aide for the duration of the mission."

Jan thought that over. "Who?"

"Senator Amidala from Naboo is going on a mission to Mandalore to attempt to re-open diplomatic channels with them." Mon Mothma cut straight to the point with a glare.

Ignoring the look that was decades less powerful than she was used to, Jan did not otherwise react. "Senator Padme Amidala, Naboo. Pretty young. Why is she going, and not someone with more experience?"

"A 'youthful honesty' are the words that the Chancellor has chosen for the official announcement," the Senator leaned back. "And naturally, while we petition the Jedi order for a more experienced diplomatic representative, the young senator will still need protection."

"And Senate Intelligence can't provide, why?"

Mon Mothma leaned forward with a smile. "Why, my dear Jan, I am Senate Intelligence now. And I have you!"

"I strolled right into that one, didn't I?" Ors quipped. A bad habit she picked up from Kyle. "How long are we looking at here?"

"Once the mission begins, no more than a couple weeks," Mon Mothma said. "As I mentioned, this is more a preliminary mission. Not a fully fledged ambassadorial embassy."

"What happened to the previous ambassador?"

"The Republic hasn't had a person in that position for some time now," the Senator admitted. "A diplomatic oversight now added to the growing pile of hubris as we begin to examine ourselves for our failings in the face of war."

"Sounds harsh."

"I assure you, there are many who would choose to ignore these moments of self-reflection, seeing this war as an aberration and not a herald of worse things." She sighed. "They are a silent majority, I fear, complacent in their position, and not understanding the full scope of the problem."

"Would you have, had I not delivered those messages?"

"I... no. I think not. I am a loyal supporter of Palpatine, and that could have blinded me to the obvious. I still do not know the full breadth and scope of these conspiracies, and I fear that information will come far too late."

"There's not much I can do about that," Jan admitted. "So, about this escort mission?"

"I should hope it won't be too much. Simply act as her aide, and try to keep her safe."

"That sounds very open ended."

"It should. I'm not in the habit of micromanaging my people. Especially those who have proven their competence to my satisfaction."

Jan suspected she was playing that up for the security feeds. "So, when do I meet with the good Senator?"

"At your earliest convenience," Mon Mothma informed her. "The sooner you meet, the sooner everything can get started."

Nodding, Jan stood up. "Well, this should be fun. Let her know I'm coming."

"Before you leave," Mon Mothma held up a hand to forestall her action, "let me first see if she is at her residence or her office first."

Jedi Temple

Archives

Jocasta Nu frowned at the massive array of files that were stacked in the unused sections of the Temple. She had been tasked with research into the writings of the past Jedi and to disseminate that information to the relevant parties. She had been successful at first with finding the armor designs from the New Sith War that ended a thousand years previously.

That those wars also coincided with the Republic Dark Ages only reinforced what she had been told by Master Yoda. That the battles between the Republic and the Separatists must stay that way, rather than become a war between the Jedi and the New Sith. She understood that intellectually, but seeing all the records of bloodshed and destruction recorded without any emotion, lists upon lists was draining.

And in this history, she reaffirmed the justification for the Jedi to be peacemakers and mediators, not leaders and warriors. The ways of the Force, and those of warfare were at odds with each other. Once things had settled down, and she had a chance to properly prepare, she promised herself that she would incorporate these old records into teachings about the failings of their predecessors and why the Order is as it is in response.

Her apprentice had taken to the armor designs, calling some of them 'striking' in their presentations. She had to remind him that that was the point. To be visually impressive to overstate the power and importance of the wearer, usually for intimidation purposes. "Find the simpler ones, the more practical," she told him. "They will be easier to bring up to our standards and produce. We are not here to show off!"

Properly chastised, the young man returned to his work.

Which is when the man she had summoned finally made his presence known. "Master Nu?"

"Katarn," she straightened herself, dusting off her robes as she did. The scraggly man made no attempt to hide his wandering gaze, the sheer enormity of the underground storage facilities something many were not prepared for. "Thank you for coming so quickly."

"Well," he said, scratching his beard, "it was either this or boring stuff."

Jocasta suppressed a smile. A man who loved knowledge for the sake of knowledge? He didn't seem the type, and his obvious ploy at politeness remained just a ploy. Though she did appreciate the effort. "I assure you, my intentions will be barely more tolerable." She gestured that he follow her. "You are a practical man, with some experience in less civilized society."

"I've been accused of that before, yes," Kyle agreed with her statement as he caught up. "What of it?"

"I need a person with your experience to help me sort the detritus from the useful," she indicated the files around them. "They are old, and filled with bias and opinion that would be completely out of place in modern records."

"I ... I don't know how I can help," Kyle said. "I've got a lot in front of me as it is, and I don't wish to fail you by not being able to give your request the attention it deserves."

Jocasta considered this, and came to the conclusion that the mysterious Knight-Errant was a source of advice for a great many people, and she was just the latest. And that was inconsiderate of her. She did not even attempt to inquire as to his status, but merely assumed and acted on that assumption. She would not have done such a thing with any proper Master or Knight.

"Ah," she said aloud, rather than voice her apologies. "I was informed through Master Windu that you wear armor when expecting combat. Would you be willing to part with it temporarily that we might study it? A design used by a Jedi as more than a show piece would be a help, and would be no great burden on your time."

Kyle seemed to consider that. "I can do that, as long as I can get it back on short notice. I never know when I'm going to have to run out and do something."

With that agreement, Jocasta pressed on just a little bit. "If you could, can you tell me where you got it in the first place? A source of reliable material would be much appreciated."

Kyle hesitated, like he wanted to say something but then thought about it first. "I'll have to check," he said. "I don't know if they're still open for business anymore. It's been decades since I got it."

"If you please," Jocasta bowed politely. "I would appreciate it."

Jedi Council Chambers

Mace leaned back, glad for the break. "I think that does it for that set of issues," he said relieved. "With the Altisian's taking the lead aboard the Chu-unthor, we can stay in control of displaced populations that the records show are inevitable in a conflict like this."

"As long as it doesn't grow out of proportion," Ki-Adi-Mundi added. "But by then, we should be more prepared for the worst. We just need to make sure there is no personal strife when "

"I for one am glad that we can match duties to those predisposed to them," Plo Koon said cheerfully. "It makes things so much easier in the long run."

There were gestures of agreement all around the Council chamber.

"The next order of business," Obi-wan announced once it seemed like everyone was ready, "is the request from the Chancellor's office regarding a diplomat to assist in the Senate's attempts to reconcile with Mandalore." He looked up at the others present. "Who could we send?"

"Didn't you have that mission to Mandalore some years ago?" Evan Piell pointed out to Obi-wan. "Protection mission for the Duchess?"

"Satine Kryze, yes." Obi-wan admitted. "Though that was some time ago. I do not believe I would be appropriate to the delegation."

"No," Yoda objected. "Perfect, you are. A person you would be. A known ear, to listen. A voice, to be heard." Yoda pointed out the advantages of sending Kenobi. "Another Jedi, as recognized by the Duchess, would not."

"Master!" Obi-wan raised his voice a little, "I object!"

"Name someone else," Evan suggested. "Who else do we have we could send who has your skills as a mediator, has your recognition with the Mandalorean leadership, and is comfortable with the Senate to act properly?"

Obi-wan could not, and after a moment's silence, Mace added one more thing. "Do you wish to stay here, in the temple, for when your Padawan returns from his excursion?"

For a moment, Kenobi wanted to affirm it, to be there to confront Anakin for his foolishness. Then he saw the crux of the question, and his own response. "No, I see your point," he accepted. "I suppose I will be given time to prepare?"

The others nodded. "We will make sure of that," Ki-Adi-Mundi agreed. "There would be no sense in making you unprepared for the mission ahead."

Gatri

Orbit

Anakin watched as the recovery craft carefully anchored itself to the escape pod from the destroyed ship. He could feel the hurt and pain coming from the survivors on board, and it helped him to locate those in need of medical aid sooner.

"Black One, this is Sathanas Actual," the voice of the captain spoke into his ear. "Status?"

"There have been no signs of droid surprises," Anakin found himself replying calmly. "And I'm over-watching another recovery."

"Return to the Sathanas," Corvell ordered him and his wingman. "You're the last one from your squadron still out, and I want you aboard to debrief."

"Captain," Anakin bit back the acrid tones as best he could, "the job's not done out here!"

"I know that," the captain said soothingly. "That's why I'm sending out another flight to relieve you. To make sure it gets finished."

"One, Ten," his wingman spoke up, "I've been ignoring some control surface problems, and this will be a good time to get it looked at."

"Understood," Anakin noted. "Can you hold out until relief gets here?"

"As long as I don't have to go dancing around, I should be fine," Black Ten reported.

"Sathanas Actual, this is Black One. We will be returning once the relief flight gets here."

"Understood, you'll have further orders once you touchdown." Then the line went dead. Anakin leaned back and let go a breath he didn't know he was holding. Such pain and agony surrounded him as his fighter drifted through the shattered front half of the Eriadu, the old ship well beyond repair or even salvage.

This is what it meant for a Jedi to go to war, he tried to accept even as he fought against it. That people would die, and that as Jedi, they were more susceptible to the ravages of the psyche that deaths brought about. But he was stronger than that! He had to be so that he could keep helping!

And yet, there was a knot of fear in his stomach. Would he be enough? What could he do when even a battle like this was beyond his ability to influence? He had stayed out here as long as he could with the intent of seeing as many people saved as possible, but was it enough?

What could one man do in the face of such a storm?