“Forget safety.
Live where you fear to live.
Destroy your reputation.
Be notorious.”
Rumi
An early impromptu dinner at the Mansion allowed G to meet the President’s family and his top staff, some elected officials, some socialites, and all and all, it was bit much and he felt incredibly out of place. The dinners with the folks running the Three Sisters were never this formal. It was only due to his keen eye and ability to observe customs that the meal wasn’t full of social faux pas in terms of which dining utensil should be used and when. Conversation wise, he was certain the number of uncomfortable laughs and redirection of the conversation by the President was a saving grace. The base building that supported the President’s Mansion was so broad that looking out the window you might assume the greenery covering the terrace in all directions and surrounding the mountain was Earth, and that distant buildings were the outcropping of cities, but the President’s estate, which belong to the state, not the person, was contained by the whole building that was likely fifty stories high before you hit ground. In truth, there wasn’t bare ground available on Axxila, and the President’s estate was considered to be a valley, and the distant building that surrounded it also could project an energy dome to help protest the elite during an attack. Taking out the authority would require an extreme, concerted effort.
Freya remained standing during the dinner, as was the custom here. G didn’t like the custom, but Freya told him to let it be. The President’s oldest son kept staring at the Droid. So did many of the guest, but not to the degree of the son, and there were several conversations about Freya and Luxury Droids in general, but the conversation never involved her opinion.
This, too, bothered G, but he held his tongue. Also, in terms of inappropriate stares, he was pretty sure that the President’s oldest daughter, and his wife, were giving him subtle, but inappropriate signals. He told himself to ask Freya about it after the dinner, because it was possible they were just infatuated with his Jedi slash celebrity status.
Most of the meal was just okay, but he interrupted the conversation, stopping one of the serving Droids. “May I have another one of those?”
“The mini caviar parfaits?” it asked. “Yes, please,” G said.
“You may have as many as you like,” Mrs. Hidalgo said, pleased he liked it.
“Oh, thank you, so much,” G said.
“So, G, do you think this Snoke character is a sign the Sith have returned?” Ambassador Aldridge asked. “Or just some scare tactic dreamt up by the First Order.”
As G considered his response, Senator Elle Tryson, “It’s a scare tactic. There is no such thing as Sith or Jedi or any other mystical orders running the Galaxy. I probably get a hundred letters a week from paranoid constituents accusing me of being part of some secret society conspiring to suppress the freedoms of individuals and turn them into slaves. Any blind fool can see that no one person or group of people can truly hold the galaxy together in any semblance of order, because there is just too many divergent interests.”
“Yes, yes, you always try to impress us with your chaos theories,” Admiral Ortish Cohns said. “But the political nature of the Galaxy is not unpredictable. People want the return of Skywalker.”
“If that were true, Kylo Rin would have more success rallying people to himself if he would just call himself a Skywalker. Or at least a Vader. You don’t continue a Legacy by changing your family name mid game,” Elle said.
“He is more Solo than Skywalker,” Aldridge remarked. “And Rin is the result of a Princess dabbling below her station.”
“Aww,” Tier, Hidalgo’s oldest daughter, complained. “I like their love story.”
“And it is the reason you are going to an all-girl school until we find you a suitable match,” Mrs. Hidalgo said. “This family doesn’t slum.”
“No one does arranged marriages anymore,” Tier complained. “I want a say in who I marry. Master Waycaster, you don’t preach the old ways. Tell them a girl should have a say.”
Again, the conversation was back on him, and he paused, spoon in mouth, waiting to see if they really wanted to hear from him, or were just going to continue the conversation without him.
“Would you be interested in marrying my daughter?” Hidalgo said.
“Really!” Tier snapped. “I am just some casual property to be discussed and handed off over a random dinner guest?!”
“It might require some Mind Tricks to tame her,” Kender, her brother said. “Could you make her howl like a Rancor?”
Tier got up to leave.
“Sit down,” Mrs. Hidalgo said.
Tier considered her options, but, defiantly, sat down.
Cohns wanted to continue their discussion. “It’s not just Rin’s sociopathy that keeps the galaxy in constant conflict, but the fact that almost everyone in modern society are sociopaths. Technology allows ourselves to link too easily with like-minded folks, which only exasperates the sociological function of pushing all groups to extremes as they try to make their group identity sufficiently stark as to be distinguishable from those who have not aligned with their group think.”
G contemplated the statement as another guest argued you can’t apply human sociology to the Galaxy at large because there were too many non-human participants, and so the human formulas for predicting behavior just didn’t work. G wondered if this group was aware of their own sociopathic trends.
“So, G, who raised you?” Cohns asked.
“A Droid,” G answered. He was not sure why his answer produced laughter. “No,” Cohns said, clarifying. “Who raised you to a Master Level Jedi.”
“Oh,” G said. “Sorry. I prefer not to share that information.”
“It’s important information,” Cohns said.
“I am not surprised by his reluctance,” Aldridge said.
“If there are any real Jedi left, they will remain hidden.”
“If there are any Jedi left?’ Hidalgo asked.
“I will vouch for Waycaster. He is the real deal.”
“Forgive me if I question your authority on the subject,” Cohns said.
“Yeah, we all know your niece and you have shared the story of her miraculous healing, but that doesn’t legitimize his status. At best, it makes him a shaman healer. At worse, a charlatan who just happened to have a technological cure. And hell, placebos and fakeries have been medically shown to heal folks, too.”
“Let it be,” Mrs. Hidalgo said. “He has clearly communicated he doesn’t want to share.”
“Knowing who raised him is not just about legitimacy. It also allows us insight into his training, his philosophies, and his loyalties,” Cohns said.
“Well, if it helps,” G said. “You should know I am going to break with all traditions.”
“Oh, you’re a rebel,” Aldridge joked.
“I think they call them the Resistance now,” Kendor interjected. He was surprised it earned him a few laughs.
“I imagine whoever raised you knew you would break with traditions, which makes me wonder why they would confer a title on you, when you’re clearly not going to re-establish the order,” Cohns said.
“There is a reason the Order fell,” Elle said. “We don’t bail out failed business ventures. This is the same thing. The old order fell, and something new, something better, will rise from the ashes.”
“Or something worse,” Tier said.
“Your economic polices don’t apply here,” Cohns said.
“Let’s move to another topic,” Hidalgo said.
“His question is reasonable,” G said.
“And your stating that my question is reasonable in this context seems to reinforce that persistence in the matter is not,” Cohns said.
“If you must know, the title of Jedi was sort of forced on me,” G interrupted, soliciting another round of unexpected laughter. Cohns didn’t laugh. “All of you here have titles. Your titles were earned or bestowed upon you and they have meaning and weight and obligation. I could care less about any your titles. I am not impressed. Your titles have not allowed you to formulate answers that have improved the lives of the people you serve. If anything, your systems and titles simply maintain the present order, which is inherently unstable because other people want titles, too. In fact, what strikes me as most interesting about this meal is the fact that none of you have any more answers than anyone else in the Galaxy, and you’re just as troubled and worried as the masses, so your titles and your knowledge sets haven’t even given you any sense of peace, other than the illusion of control you think you hold. You call me Jedi, but truly, what does that mean? It means something to someone. It probably doesn’t mean the right thing to the right people. I didn’t earn it. I didn’t attend an academy. You will ask some and they will tell you the title was given to me in recognition of my abilities and knowledge. Others will tell you the title was given like a collar, to put a leash on me and try to constrain me. Some will laugh, some will bow, and some will run in fear. And why? Because someone decided to label me. It seems to me, it is our labels, our classification system, that keep us in conflicts. Labels generate games and divide us. I prefer the solitude of my cave, the quiet between stars, and the peaceful exploration of the internal and external worlds. If I accept this title, the responsibility that comes with it, the prestige the love the hate of it, then I would like to point out to you, we are all Jedi, every last one of us, and it is only your self-imposed limits brought about by your labels that keep you from rising to the next level.”
A silence fell around that. Tier mouthed the words “Wow,” unable to move enough air to generate noise. For a moment, the silence that followed was as profound as that found in any cave or in the black of night between stars.
“If you don’t mind me asking,” Mrs. Hidalgo asked.
“If you prefer your solitude, why have you returned to Axxila?”
“I like sex,” G said.
Laughter ensued, a few glasses came up, Kendor made an ‘eww’ face, Mrs. Hidalgo blushed, and Tier and Elle both seemed to be communicating their interest.
The conversation continued on without any further ‘real’ input from G. In fact, at the conclusion where everyone said farewell before departing, they each thanked him as if he had offered something extremely profound and they were taking away a prize of insight. Elle gave him her card. The whole departure of guests was a lingering affair that required Hidalgo conspired G away to his private office, insisting it be without Droids, where he offered him a cigar and a glass of brandy. G accepted the cigar but chose not to light it. G sat on a couch, and Hidalgo sat in his favorite chair facing G, putting his feet up on the table.
“Please forgive my children’s unruliness at the dinner,” Hidalgo said. “I have been a bit permissive in their upbringing.”
“They seem reasonably healthy,” G remarked. He sipped the brandy, and not liking it, he used the Force to change it from an alcoholic beverage to something more neutral, but leaving the appearance the same so as not to insult his host.
“I owe you a great deal, you know,” Hidalgo said. “And not just for healing my niece. I was certain to lose the last Mayoral election, but that incident with Ten caused people to rally around me because of my hard stance policy against criminals, not only did I get the office, I was able to run and win the Presidential Election. Did you know the guy that stole her heart got life in prison? He is up for parole, but I am going to veto it. The warden is pressuring me to put him in a mental asylum. Claims he thinks he is a ten year old girl and has hallucinations about being sexually abused.”
G nodded. “That’s likely accurate,” he said.
Hidalgo narrowed his eyes. “You think he’s not bullshitting just to manipulate the system?”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing. Everyone lies, everyone manipulates. Even in the utterance of truth, we are manipulating. Anyway, as to his claims, organ transplants frequently come with the memories, hopes, and dreams of the host body,” G said. “It’s well documented. Even a blood transfusion can result in thought transference. Whether that is due to neural transmitters being able to pass through the blood brain barrier, or due to spiritual imprinting, is not really relevant, as much as it does happen.”
“So, you think I should grant him a change of venue, from prison to mental health?” Hidalgo said.
“I am not wise enough in matters of the state to respond,” G said, staring over his dead brandy. “I almost imagine all criminal activity is the result of some level of mental health issue, which is my bias. As for the man with Ten’s heart, he took something that didn’t belong to him, and he is suffering the consequences for that, and will likely deal with it the remainder of this physical life, which will be a long life due to having had a healthy, ten year old heart put in his chest. Executing him would have been a release for him in more ways than one, however, it wouldn’t have brought back the dead.”
“It would have reduced the number of future organ stealing,” Hildalgo said.
“No, executing him, and the others involved, only increases the profitability of getting away with it, which would result in higher numbers of people taking the risk,” G said. “Additionally, if you kill him, that makes the man and the heart available for others to use, and then a new debate begins of whether you allow all those viable organs to go to waste on principle, or you use them, which again increases the likelihood of the crime happening because indirectly, someone is getting those organs and there is a need for organs because you can’t grow artificial ones fast enough for the population at large.”
Hidalgo nodded, blowing smoke into the air. “Well, this seems perfect segue for a problem I would like your help with,” he said.
“I may not be of much service, as I am trying to accomplish a personal mission,” G said.
“Help me with this, and I will pull out all stops to help you with yours,” Hidalgo said.
G sighed. “Tell me,” he invited.
Hidalgo made a decision to be as forthcoming as possible. “I am entangled, unfavorably so, with a particular crime lord. It is the direct result of my proclivities to engage in non- humanoid species in intimate ways. Specifically, I am a xenophile, and I have gone to extraordinary lengths to get my needs met, while maintaining my privacy. The crime lord I’m having issues with has several bases of operation, but his preferred base is here on Axxila, and I happen to know he is presently here. He is untouchable by law, and he has deep pockets and ties here on Axxila, and on many other worlds. He is diversified in trafficking products that range from weapons, drugs, people, children, and even organs. He also maintains a presence on the legitimate market, and so many of the organs he sells have licenses. Perhaps you would be surprised to learn that many of the elite and the rich hire cloning services in order to have backup organs in case of an emergency. He has several facilities where he grows full bodies, minus the brains. Here on Axxila, it’s called the Vault. As long as the people pay, he keeps the bodies in good condition. They don’t pay, the bodies are turned into pet food, or scrapped for parts and sold wherever there is a donor match, depends on what pays more. Some of the bodies in the Vault bring in additional revenue, as he pimps the bodies out to rich clients that just want to fuck without worrying about a commitment. If a baby results, well, it is the legal property of the crime lord, and he can ‘sell’ it or ‘adopt’ it out at his leisure. His name is Jungin and he is the most powerful Hutt I have ever met.”
G brought up his hands in I surrender. He was sorting it out. He closed his eyes. This would not be a small task. Taking out a crime lord of Jungin’s authority would have profound repercussions across the galaxy. It would either leave a vacuum, that causes an increase in violence as the others rush in to fill the gap, or cause a crime wave as folks who had guaranteed fixes turn to other sources, and could potentially topple governments. It was the same thing he had met when he killed Kilmore. The question is, would this act serve the light or the dark side? He felt certain it would benefit Stoke either way. He sought an impression of the base, but before even a full image had formed in his mind, he felt the compulsion to retreat. In just the briefest touch, he had become aware of a Force sensitive entity that would potentially be problematic for an energy body scouting session. If he helped the President, he would be doing it blind, with only the Force in the ‘moment’ as his ally.
G opened his eyes and blinked. He was resolved. “This will likely not work out the way you imagine,” he said.
“It’s not like he is a Sith Lord,” Hidalgo said. “Surely you can take him.”
“He is not a Sith Lord, but it is also not an accident that he has been so successful over time,” G said. “If I do this, a lot of people will die tomorrow. And more will likely follow. And, as you probably well know, you’re not the only one being blackmailed for revenue or for favors, and I can’t guarantee that some or all of it might come to light.”
“I want Jungin gone,” Hidalgo said.
“I will need a quiet place to meditate,” G said.
Hidalgo finished his cigar and then showed G to his room, where Freya had been waiting patiently. When he was alone, he invited Freya to go into sleep mode, while he meditated. He wasn’t alone fifteen minutes when he heard his door open and Tier snuck in, closing the door quietly behind her. Freya’s fingers had moved in anticipation of needing to draw a weapon. Only G, using the Force, had noticed.
“Tier,” G said softly, without turning the light on.
“How did you know it was me?” Tier asked.
G brought the lights up to half full. Tier was dressed in a skin tight suit and had a backpack. She had tucked her hair back under a cap.
“I want you to help me run away,” Tier said.
“You need to return to your room and forget about this nonsense,” G said.
“I thought you would be on my side,” Tier said, sulking.
“I am. More than you will ever know. This path does not lead you to where you think you should be,” G said.
“I will give you whatever you want if you take me with you when you leave,” Tier said, coming closer. “I would rather be your personal slave than continue with another semester at the academy.”
“Put your bag down and come here,” G said.
Tier followed instructions. She came to him on the bed, and he instructed her to sit as he was, legs crossed in meditating pose. He had her place her hands, palms down, on his. He had her clothes her eyes. He showed her a vision of what might happen if she left, which included kidnapping by Jungin’s servants, and a series of assaults that would take her to an inch of her life, a lifelong drug addiction, and death in a seedy hotel after being beaten by a boyfriend in a drunken rage. When he brought her back, there were tears strolling down her eyes.
“Why are you doing this to me?” Tier said.
“If you take this path, you will likely not return,” G said. “You see your parents as controlling, and perhaps you realize they are not nice people and they use manipulation to get you to live up to their expectations, as opposed to helping you become the person you want to be. There is truth in that. There is also truth in the fact that they have enemies that would love nothing better than to destroy them by destroying that which they love. They love you. They love your brother. Make that your truth and walk with compassion in your life.”
“You don’t know what it’s like living with them. Living here!” Tier protested.
“Everyone is good and bad. Everywhere has good and bad. Before you start jumping into other worlds, learn to live peacefully in this one,” G said. “Because if you allow your discontent to drive you, it will still be with you when you arrive elsewhere.”
“It’s so bad, sometimes I just want to kill myself,” Tier said.
G nodded. “Yeah,” he said, softly. “My experience with the other side assures me that whatever you feel here, in the body, will be greatly magnified when you exit the body. Don’t let your discontent drive you there, either.”
“This is more than discontent,” Tier said.
“You are full of passion and love, and it’s driven by an insight that your family doesn’t recognize,” G said. “You still have unexplored options.”
“Show me something good,” Tier said. “I did,” G said.
“What you showed me was horrid!” Tier said.
“What I showed you was one of many pathways opened to you. The future is not fixed, it’s shifting, and more often than not, we project what we want to see, but it is truly the consensus between the conscious and unconscious mind that will determine the future.”
“I don’t understand,” Tier said.
“If we took a functional, real time scan of your brain, it is clear that your brain has made decisions anywhere from 3 to 7 seconds prior to you being aware that you have consciously made a decision,” G said. “This has been demonstrated over and over in consciousness research. One conclusion is that there is no free will and the world is completely deterministic, and our belief in our ability to decide our fate is a complete illusion. And then there is the Jedi’s interpretation. There is the force, there is the unconscious, and then there is us, and this triad of complex awareness decides our fate. The only difference between me and you is that most the time, I am so one with the Force that I don’t experience 3 to 7 seconds of lag between awareness and event. I experience it all in an ever present now. There are no accidents. I was fated to be a guest in your house before you even decided to run away. I am one with the Force and the Force is offering you this intercession, this opportunity to find a different path. This is a gift. It a message. I am merely the messenger, so how you choose to interpret it is all on you. You can see it as horrid and feel that I too am just one more manipulator. You can see it as a warning, a light telling you to power down your jets and wait for clearance. Or, you can ignore it as nothing other than fantasy and go find out for yourself. Just know, some paths, once you start them, they come with their own tolls and obligations.”
“Once you start down the dark path…” Tier said.
“Yeah, running away in the middle of the night in secret, kind of a dark path, and that’s not just a metaphor,” G said. “You asked me to show you something good, but you must change you’re the filters of your heart before you can see greater lights.”
“I hate my life,” Tier said.
G nodded. He didn’t think it would be helpful telling her he knew lots of people who would gladly trade places with her.
“Why is life so hard?” Tier asked.
“Any fool with a broken heart can sing a sad song, Tier,” G said. “It takes a special kind of gift to be able to look above the storm and see the sun and stars and sing about the abundance of life and affirming opportunities. Make gratitude your mission, do it for a month, listen to others without judging and or advising, and you will find the change you are looking for.”
“Would you marry me?” Tier asked. “No,” G said.
Tier pouted.
“You don’t like how your parents manipulate you, and yet, you’re expression is a form of manipulation,” G said. “I have said no. You should allow me to be.”
“Then you should allow that I want to be with you, learn from you, travel the galaxy with you,” Tier said.
G smiled. “Well turned. Now, I want you to go back to your room.”
Tier got off the bed and collected her bag. “Couldn’t you just use a Mind Trick on me and make me think my life is perfect?”
“Unfortunately, you’re too intelligent,” G said.
“There is no way for me to get past your own Jedi Mind Tricks that you employ on a daily basis.”
“What does that mean?” Tier asked.
“Consider it. We’ll talk again,” G said.
“You promise?” Tier asked. G nodded.
Tier left without a thank you, almost resigned, with only the hope that she might speak to G again in the future. As soon as the door closed, G thanked Freya for not laughing.
“Why would I laugh?” Freya asked. “I would no more laugh at a teenage girl whose hormones are raging and she is wanting to do what youth are called to do naturally, than I would make fun of an adolescent male who hormones are driving him to use his hand or a pillow. The makers of Luxury Droids have programmed us for compassion for all things related to sensuality. Humans would benefit from this programing.”
G nodded, turned off the light, only to hear the door open and close again. He turned on the lights to see Mrs. Hidalgo.
“Oh, I am sorry,” Mrs. Hidalgo said.
“I didn’t know they put you in this room.”
“This is not an accident,” G told her.
“I should really go. It scares me the way you can see into people. With a mere gaze, you would see into me and know me more intimately than anyone ever has. You would find the darkness in me, the walls that contain it, and knock them down.”
“We all have walls,” G said. “I would no more knock your walls down than I would take an astronaut’s suit off while he is in orbit. They’re there to protect us, from real or perceived dangers.”
Mrs. Hidalgo grew closer. “I am drawn to you.”
“Mrs. Hidalgo,” G said. “I must warn you, if you persist in this direction, I will not withhold, which could put a strain on your relationship with your husband.”
“We have no relationship, there would be no strain,” Mrs. Hidalgo said, coming closer.
“Then why would you want to subject your daughter to the same sort of arranged marriage?” G asked.
Mrs. Hidalgo was taken back. “You want to talk about my daughter?”
“I am just seeking clarity,” G said.
“I am confused,” Mrs. Hidalgo said.
“I thought you were interested in me. The way you were staring at me during the dinner. That felt meaningful.”
“I thought you were staring at me,” G said.
Mrs. Hidalgo closed the distance.
“So, you did feel it? I didn’t imagine it?”
“You didn’t misperceive, but you did misunderstand. All gazes are engagement in intimacy. You can’t see without recognizing that we are all one, connected by light,” G explained. “Your daughter was looking at me in the same way you were looking at me.”
“Again with my daughter?” Mrs. Hidalgo asked.
“My husband and I would gladly give her to you. A Jedi would be a step up from the other suitors.”
“I’m not asking for your daughter,” G assured her.
“I am only asking because I am a little surprised. I mean, she’s not the best looking thing, and her grades are abysmal,” Mrs. Hidalgo said, kneeling into the bed and crawling towards him. “But, marrying her would allow for us to have more opportunities like this.”
Mrs. Hidalgo kissed him. He sighed.
“I am feeling intensely aroused,” G admitted, his eyes closed.
“Oh, me, too,” Mrs. Hidalgo said, breathlessly. She threw herself on him, taking him to the bed. She took his arms up above his head, and kissed him. “Ravish me with your Jedi powers.”
G lifted her and set her on the floor.
“I think you should go, now,” G said.
“Really?!” Mrs. Hidalgo asked.
“You want to leave now,” G said, waving his hand.
“I think I am going to go now,” Mrs. Hidalgo said.
“You will remember a pleasant conversation, but discovered you had no further interest in pursuing me,” G said.
“You’re really nice, G, but I am just not feeling it,” Mrs. Hidalgo said.
“And you’re going to be nicer to your daughter,” G said.
“I think I will go talk to Tier,” Mrs. Hidalgo said.
“That sounds brilliant. Good night, Mrs. Hidalgo. And thanks for looking in on me,” G said.
“Oh, you’re welcome,” Mrs. Hidalgo said, departing.
Freya looked to G. “I am surprised you turned that down,” Freya said.
“Oh, shut up and come to bed,” G insisted.
Freya laughed.