A New Jedi in an Old Republic

Serenno

Count Dooku was not furious. Rather, he was in that detached internal mental space that allowed him to act as though everything was quite alright and that all was going according to plan. Even though he wanted to act otherwise. It was one of the few things that he carried forward from his Jedi days into his true calling as a Sith.

In this way, he found he could go from calm to properly enraged in less time than it took to blink an eye, and there would be no forewarning. More than once he had reminded his adepts of this fact.

And General Grevious, present in person, knew all this. He had watched others be the target, as well as the target himself. And even now, he did not know how this would end, though if he were a gambling sentient, he would wager on 'painfully'. Still, he knelt before his leader.

"You lost the battle," Dooku said simply as he faced out the window of his office.

The General wanted to point out the great many things wrong with that statement, but also recognized that the Sith Lord had already made up his mind about what was going to happen. This was all theatre for the benefit of those watching. "I withdrew, yes."

Dooku did not immediately respond to the non-confession, instead letting the emotions percolate and develop. "And why did you throw away all your fighters?" There was no recrimination in his voice, simply a question about his tactics.

"I was not going to stay and wait to recover them," Grevious raised his head to speak to Dooku. If he was going to be punished, let it be for something he said like a real person, and not a droid. "Therefore I ordered them onto a suicide ram against the enemy flagship to cover our withdrawl." He was very careful to not call it a retreat.

"And how many thousand fighters did you throw away?"

"It doesn't matter," Grevious replied. "They are expendable, and the net loss for them was far less than the ship they killed. They can be replaced far faster." It was one of the truths behind the strategic doctrine of the Confederation. Mass produced, highly expendable attrition units defending the more expensive and less easily replaced capital assets. It played to the Confederation's more industrial base than the Republic's population base.

"It doesn't matter?" Dooku lowered his voice to a growl. "Do you really believe that?"

Grevious recognized a trap when he saw it. No matter how he answered, his words would be twisted into the worst interpretation possible. "Only victory matters," he said.

"And is it victory when it costs so much?"

There was nowhere to go but forward. "Yes, when the price is low."

"FOOL!" Dooku's inner storm broke, and he rounded on Grevious. "We needed the experience of those droid craft to refine the next generation intelligence! You threw it all away for a minor benefit!"

"They were lost to me," Grevious challenged. "What else would I have given up to recover them and their data? More ships that are not so easily built?"

That was the last straw for Dooku, and he made an example of Grevious' failure.

Jedi Temple

Coruscant

Ahsoka Tano strolled into one of the practice chambers, eager to expand her mastery of the Force. It was a large room, one where one could make the effort to manipulate the material world through the power of the Force.

And she was good at it. She knew it. Her teachers knew it. She was, as an initiate, better than many Masters. Not all of them though. She knew that she couldn't win in a match against Anakin Skywalker, but then again, he was perfect as a Jedi, and an example to look up too.

She briefly entertained the thought of him being her Master, but dismissed it as frivolous. Why would he pick her as someone to teach?

Not unless she impressed him first with her skill and power, once he was finally raised to Knighthood.

"Hey, droid!" She yelled at the machine currently restoring the area after the efforts of whomever was here previously. "How long until you are done?"

"I was not aware that anyone else had this room sequestered," the droid replied. Tano was taken aback by the verbosity of the response. Droids didn't speak like that. "I apologize for the inconvenience." It moved to set down the block that was in its hands, and Tano could have sworn that it wasn't actually touching the stone. She explained it away as repulsors, obviously.

"Just finish cleaning up, then go about your duties," Tano dismissed the machine.

Instead, the Droid paused and looked at her with a very non-droidish tilt to its head. "Ah, I see" it said after a moment.

"You see what?" Tano asked, not annoyed at all, as that was not the Jedi way.

"You have made an error," the Droid informed her. "One that is only natural given your ... youth and inexperience." It set down the stone on the ground, obviously using repulsors to do so.

"Excuse me?" the young Jedi crossed her arms. "You're a droid. You need your memory wiped if you're going to keep talking like that."

What came next was something she could never have foreseen. The droid laughed.

"A memory wipe?" It said after a moment's humor. "No wonder our Master chose to walk away from the Temple. You organics are so quick to levy judgement on that which you are not familiar with."

The young Togruta was worried now. "What are you talking about?" She had a lightsabre, and it didn't. If it came down to it, she could destroy the droid here and now.

"You think I am merely a machine," the droid said without making any hostile moves. In fact, it didn't move at all, which made its speech even more ominous. "You only see the surface, and because of that inexperience, you seek to strike."

Tano relaxed her hand, pulling it away from her blade.

"So I ask of you," the droid said, "look at me in the Force, and not with your mortal senses."

For a moment, Ahsoka was going to deliver a sharp retort, but something pressed against her senses, and she bit it back. What harm could it do, she wondered to herself. It's not like opening herself up to the Force was going to make her more vulnerable.

So she did, and what she saw stunned her. She snapped back to reality after only a couple seconds of experience. "You're alive? What are you?"

"A silicon based life-form," the non-droid informed her as it started to walk past her. "Not metal, but mineral. More so than a carbon-based life form such as yourself. Are you not instructed the the Force flows through all things, and that the Galaxy holds more mysteries than not? Open yourself to the possibilities, youngling, and you will find that there are more things out there than you can conceive of. If all you do is limit yourself to the 'I', how much do you miss?"

With that philosophical musing delivered, the droid made to exit the room. But before it did, it stopped and delivered one last message. "We are called the Iron Knights."

"Ir..?" Ahsoka turned to ask more, but the mysterious creature was gone.

Jedi Temple

Docking Bays

"There you are," Nejaa Halcyon greeted his erstwhile 'master' as he stepped down off his ship. "How are you, Kyle?"

"Not bad, not bad," the older Jedi replied, rubbing his face. He had shaved a bit, trimming his beard neatly to put on the airs of respectability. "What brings you down my way?"

"I wanted to remind you that all the tasks you set for us in terms of recruitment are done, save two," Nejaa said as he fell into step beside Kyle. Behind them, the Mouldy Crow closed up. "The Teepo, we cannot find, and the Council has agreed to take over that investigation."

"I know, I was there," Kyle reminded him. "I'm still trying to figure out how they missed an entire sect going AWOL like that."

"I'm certain they won't tell us when they do get a response," the Corellian said in good humor. "We both know how the Temple Jedi like to be seen as infallible," he added a bit more quietly. "But, what can we do?" he finished with a raised voice. "That just leaves us with one last group."

"Really?" Kyle asked. "All your people are accounted for and back at the Temple."

"Surely you haven't forgotten?"

Kyle put on a blank expression. "Forgotten what?"

"The Jensaarai," Nejaa pointed out, choosing to ignore Kyle's feigned ignorance. "You promised that you and I would take care of them personally due to their situation."

Kyle frowned. "Damn," he cursed. "I hoped you had forgotten."

"No, I haven't." The two of them left the docking bay and headed for the more common areas of the Jedi Temple, letting their feet and the Force guide them. "What about them is it that sets you to such worry?"

Looking around for anyone of importance, Kyle finally turned to Nejaa. "They're a sect of Force users who were taught that the Sith are the one true way, and that the Jedi are the usurpers, stealing then perverting the Sith teachings. They are active Dark Side practitioners."

Nejaa let that information roll through him, his trust in the information that Kyle had already provided enough that he could accept this without doubt. "That's... not true at all!"

"I know. You know. They have convinced themselves otherwise," Kyle grumbled. "Damned fools wouldn't listen to reason."

"And if we don't recruit them, or at least secure their neutrality," Nejaa projected his thoughts into potential futures, "then they could fall in with the Sith that rule the Confederacy." He could see how that would be bad. The real limitation to the Sith in the Confederation of Independent Systems was their numbers if the High Council was to be believed. "How many are there?"

"Too many," Kyle was vague. He didn't know. "I know where they should be, but past that, this whole thing is a shot in the dark." He made his worry plain and clear to the Corellian. "So many things could go wrong."

"I don't know what to say that could assuage your fears, Kyle." Nejaa found it comforting in a way how the other man refused titles of any sort, instead using his given name as much as possible. It was something he found familiar in his own Order's teachings about how to interact with non-Force users.

"I don't think pretty words could," the Knight-Errant agreed. "I don't want to deal with them, but we have to."

Nejaa hummed in understanding. "Our own doubts can be our worst enemy," he said sagely.

"Don't I know it. And you don't have to treat me like an apprentice."

"Then think of this whole exercise as a learning opportunity. I get to learn more about other sects of Jedi and Sith, they get to earn more about us, and you get a refresher in dealing with annoying people who may just want to stab you for for not believing what they do."

"But I'm already talking to you," Kyle retorted, doing his best to say it with a straight face. "Look. Fine. Let me track down Obi-wan, and let him know where we're going and why. I think he'll appreciate the information after his apprentice ran off to join the Navy."

Nejaa laughed at the implications. "A strong-willed master leads to a strong-willed apprentice. I would very much like to meet this Skywalker. He seems like a someone who hasn't the same preconceptions that the Temple Jedi do."

"But we all have our own biases," Kyle reminded him. "You, me, Anakin, Obi-wan, that youngling over there," he pointed to a thoughtful young Togruta who passed them by without a word, "and the Jensaarai have them as well. It's how well we react when people challenge them that lets us rise above them."

"Sound words from a Master."

"Yeah, well, don't call me that. I'm just Kyle."

"Well then, Just Kyle, shall we find Master Kenobi and inform him of our itinerary?"

"..." Kyle appreciated how he walked into that one, and not for the first time. "Very well."

Coruscant

Senate Building

Mace Windu was in an uncomfortable position at the moment. While it was not unusual for any Jedi to be called to explain their actions before the High Council, it was unusual for the Republic's governing bodies to do the same.

Yet, these were not normal or ordinary days. And as he considered it, he could understand some of the concerns of Senate Intelligence.

The Clone Squad was part of the Grand Army. Jan Ors was an agent reporting to Senator Mon Mothma, who sat at the table in front of him, and Kyle Katarn was recruited specifically for the mission.

He, on the other hand, had invited himself along.

They hadn't gone so far as to accuse him directly of any improper acts, but it was apparent in their feelings that they believed he had overstepped his bounds.

"Where is Sora Bulq now?" Armand Isard asked, not glancing down at the reports. "It is indicated that you took him into custody, and transported him to the Jedi Temple."

"He is still there," Mace answered honestly. "It was decided to secure him there, where he could be helped."

"And what sort of help would that be?" Mon Mothma asked, both curious and suffering from the affront of Mace's decision.

"Master Bulq suffers from a decrease in his mental faculties," Mace phrased 'fell to the Dark Side' as diplomatically as he could for those who were not in tune with the Force. "And with a reduction in his ability to control himself, he presents a physical danger to those around him who cannot defend themselves."

"And you are keeping him in isolation for his protection, and for his captors?" Armand asked.

"Yes. The Jedi Temple is the safest place to keep him from harming anyone else, and to rehabilitate him."

"Why did he Fall in the first place?" Mon Mothma asked. "According to the reports the Temple filed with the Republic, he was last seen at the disastrous Battle of Genosis."

"He was," Mace replied. "However, it appears that he was captured by the forces of the CIS as they withdrew, and was turned over to Count Dooku. We believe it is Dooku that caused his current ... condition."

"Dooku being the former Jedi who currently leads the Rebellion, and not some other Dooku?" Mon Mothma broke the pattern of who was asking the questions.

"That is correct."

"Then explain to us how we can trust anything the Jedi do, when one of your own was broken, and could have revealed any number of secrets to the Separatists?" Isard leaned forward, the neutral face long perfected. "Explain to the Senate how they can trust the Jedi when they act to cover up their own failings like this?"

"He is not a failing," Mace defended. "Master Bulq needs help. Help which he can only get from the Jedi."

"And what can he tell us of the Separatists?" Armand demanded. "He was among them, was he not? Surely he saw something!"

"Would you trust the words of a man who cannot think straight?" Mace asked back.

"That will be for Senate Intelligence to decide, not you," the head of Senate Intelligence said harshly. "We cannot have the Jedi act on their own accord, without at least informing the Senate of their actions! It was you who attacked Genosis on your own accord, and that only seems to be the start of your arrogance!"

"Calm down," Mon Mothma pleaded. "Getting angry will do none of us any good."

"For the history of the Republic," Mace smoothly informed Isard, "the Senate has allowed the jedi to deal with internal matters internally."

"This stopped being an internal matter when Sora Bulq became an agent – no matter how willing or not – for the enemy," Mon Mothma pointed out. "The Jedi cannot continue to act as though a state of war is the same as a state of peace." She leaned back in her chair, a disapproving air about her. "Your independence from the Senate was predicated on the accepted notion that you would act in accordance with the Senates wishes and for the good of the Republic. While you may believe that you are following the later, how can you prove the former?"

Mace had no immediate response, so he tossed the question back at her. "And what would you have us do, Senator?"

"Provide us information on everything you are doing regarding this war," Armand demanded. "So that the Senate and the Republic can best decide how to move forward." He sneered. "Or do you have more mistakes you wish to hide?"

Coruscant

Level 1313

Yoda walked along the walkway that led to the meeting hall. He had heard of this from those who were not Jedi, and decided that he needed to be present, even if he did nothing other than listen.

The world was far different this far under the surface of Coruscant, far from the spires of the Temple. Down here, his robes would mark him as an outsider, even if he used the Force to disguise himself in the process. And that wouldn't do at all. So he scrounged around for some worn out work clothes from the mechanical sections of the Temple, and kept his walking stick. If anyone questioned that it was wood, he could always claim it was from his home and a keepsake.

Not that anyone did. In fact, no one found him suspicious at all. He had to reject a couple offers of rides or lifts from those going the same way he was, which only made him glad that even down here, the innate goodness in people came through.

The meeting hall was crowded, and Yoda found a higher perch to watch from, sharing it with a couple younglings who were brought by their parents.

"Who are we?" the first speaker roared over the crowd. Yoda turned his attention to the sentient, finding it to be a human male. "Look at us! Look at US! Look at the people beside you. They are your friends, your family. They are the ones who help you up when you fall down, who share their meager meals with."

There were cheers at the notion of community, which Yoda approved of.

"And yet, here we stand, people of the Republic," the speaker resumed, "A Republic whose actions have brought this war upon us! And who will suffer? Oh, they speak high and mighty words about the principles of peace, and how no innocent shall suffer. But what of these 'clones' they have? Who made that army and why? Who was it to be used against? The Republic lies to us with every word from the Senate above!"

Yoda did not add his voice to the growing anger.

"I'm sorry, but I don't want to say this," the rabblerouser apologized quietly, "but it's become my business. Our business. We, the people, are being talked to by the Senate as though we do not matter. And to their eyes, we do not! This war they speak of, it is between the rich and the powerful, with machine armies! With machine minds and machine hearts! I don't care if they are made of flesh and bone, these 'clones' are machines just as much as any droid.

"Why is it that these things exist? Do our 'leaders' not trust us? Do they expect us to fall in line, like gears in a cog? Do they expect us to hate because they say so? Their knowledge has made them cynical to the measure of the Galaxy, their cleverness only a hard heart and an unkind word. But we are the people! We are the real masters of the Galaxy! Not those who are bought out by the Banking Clan, or ignore us like the Jedi.

"They think themselves clever, in fighting this 'war'. And yet, they proudly proclaim what they did to cause it! The rich and powerful getting more rich and more powerful while you and I, the people of the galaxy, suffer under their greed and tyranny. Who cares about some Outer Rim Trade Route? What makes them think that we care when we are not cared for?

"What is upon us, it is nothing more than naked greed. And we, people who know our neighbors, know what greed does. It hurts us all, and they don't see it.

"But we must make them see! We must make the Senate see the galaxy for what it is! That ours is a life worth living! That we, who live here, on the crown jewel of their Galaxy, have a say! That our voice is the voice of all those whom they ignore! Citizens! Friends! Neighbors! Don't give yourselves to these unreasonable creatures! They would tell you what to do, what to think, what to feel! That we should hate on their word, and not wonder why! Don't give yourselves to these unnatural demands! We are not chattel! We are not machines! We are free! We are the people of Coruscant, a community that spreads out around the world, and part of the larger community of the Galaxy.

"We must speak! We must act! We must let those vain creatures that sit on their thrones that they cannot ignore us! If we must fight, then let us fight! If there are those who would attack us, is it not our right, our responsibility to fight back? Why should we trust in machines to do it for us?

"My brothers, my sisters. Fathers and Mothers. Our clans and family. Can we not take back our ability to decide our fate for ourselves? Can we not take back from those who have stolen from us without realizing it that we have a say in our own affairs? That we must wake up, and become our own representatives! That we can fight for ourselves, speak for ourselves, and act for ourselves! We are not puppets, for life to push around, are we not?

"We must unify! We must spread the word! That the people of the Galaxy will no longer be bound to the empty words of those who do not know who we are! We must speak! And we must be heard!

"So, who will speak?"