Chapter 15 the test
Corissa, Jordeen, and Ten arrived at the shuttle where Preston was waiting for them. He had been surprised by how full the shuttle was on finding it, but he quickly reminded himself that he did tell them to go shopping. Daphne emerged from the lavatory, where she had changed into the flight suit that Preston had bought her. Corissa immediately balked at discovering Daphne was present.
“Please tell me you haven’t brought home another stray already?” Corissa said.
“I’m not joining your cult, sister,” Daphne said.
“We are going to fulfil our last duties to Heer and then we’re going our separate ways.”
“Heer?”
“The Jedi I killed. I’m returning his remains and property to his parents on Orlon,” Preston said.
Corissa pulled Preston by the arm to the rear of the shuttle.
“You’re really going to go to Orlon with her?” Corissa asked, using the tone that she frequently used when she was asking if he were crazy, only this time it was presented in a hushed volume.
“It’s just four hyper hours away. Be back in a day?” Preston said reassuringly.
“She tried to kill you!” Corissa said.
“I know,” Preston said.
“But this is one of those Force occasion things and I have to see it through.”
“No, you don’t,” Corissa said.
“Maybe this is one of those Force occasion things where you are supposed to say no.”
Preston blinked.
“Never thought of that, actually,” he said. He bowed. Corissa seemed relieved.
“But I gave my word.”
“Fine,” Corissa said.
“But you’re taking Freya.”
“I thought you hate Freya,” Preston said.
“I do, but you upgraded her to to body guard status,” Corissa said.
“There isn’t room in the Tie for her with me and Daphne,” Preston said. Corissa fumed.
“I don’t like this.”
“Really, what could go wrong?” Preston asked, heading back to the flight controls to signal the converstain was concluded. Corissa followed, not ready to finish the argument, but not knowing what else to add. He took the seat and began the start up sequence.
“Unless I buy a bigger ship. It’s in the budget, isn’t it?””
“Not my department,” Corissa said, taking the copilot seat.
The number one engine popped, rattling the ship with a steady rumble as if the engine was resisting.
“Is this thing safe?” Daphne asked, practically yelling to be heard over the din.
“Yeah, that’s normal,” Ten assured her.
Daphne looked at her skeptically. Jordeen laughed.
♫♪►
The shuttle door lowered and Ten was the first one down the ramp. Freya was there, waiting patiently. She bowed respectfully, and in the nomaste greeting.
“Would you like assistance unloading the shuttle?” she asked.
“Wow,” Daphne said.
“Is this a cult or a brothel?”
“What, you don’t like Preston’s choice in companions?” Corissa asked.
“Is she kidding?” Daphne asked as he came down the ramp and past her.
“You’re intimate with a machine?”
Preston kissed Freya on the cheek.
“Hello, Freya. Nice to see you again.”
“Welcome back, Master,” Freya said, touching his arm as he passed.
“Oh, that’s even more disgusting than you eating the ice cream made from human breast milk,” Daphne said.
“Oh, we should have got more of that,” Preston said, pausing to sulk for just a moment. He then shrugged it off and proceeded to the Tie.
Daphne froze as she realized what he was intending to take them in.
“You’re taking us in a Tie Defender?” Daphne asked, even more shocked than she was by Freya.
Preston nodded. Opening the lower hatch, he reached in and turned on the battery. Lights came on and he started a walk around, checking to make sure everything was spaceworthy. He ran his hand along the solar cells.
“That belongs to the bad guys,” Daphne protested.
“Yep,” Preston agreed.
“Which use to belong to the good guys, before they became bad guys, and who could be the good guys again, circumstance permitting. Things are always changing like that.”
Dahpne looked to Corissa. Corissa shrugged, as she dropped a box on an anti gravity skid.
“You volunteered to go with him.”
“I didn’t volunteer,” Daphne said. She saw no point in discussing it further. She ducked under and hoisted herself up into the ship.
Preston stared at the ship, as if deliberating a point. Specifically, he should have climed in first, and he wasn’t sure about climbing over Daphne.
“Are you sure about this?” Jordeen asked.
“She seems really angry,” Corissa added.
Jordeen and Preston shared a secret smile, but didn’t comment on Corissa’s observation. Daphne yelled from the ship, “You coming, or what?”
“Yeah,” Preston committed.
“One second.” Red rolled up, whistling wildly.
“I guess you can come,” Preston agreed.
“Corissa, you need Red?”
“No, go ahead,” Corissa said, passing Freya who was bringing supplies down to place on the sled.
Ten leaned into Jordeen, watching as Red rolled towards the Tie. It started to deploy its rockets, but was interrupted by Preston.
“Up you go, then,” Preston said, lifting Red into place with the Force.
Preston waved to Ten and Jordeen. Corisa and Freya were both inside the other ship working suplies, but he suspected her could would see them as he was departing. He brought his attention back to his task of walking around the ship. He dragged his hands along the solar panels, relying on intuition to tell him if there were any issues. Satisfied, he headed for the hatch, ducked under the body of the pod and then climbed into the fighter. Daphne was sitting in the wrong chair, waiting impatiently.
“Care to switch with me? Or would you like to fly?” Preston asked.
“I don’t know how,” Daphne said.
“Want to learn?” Preston asked.
“No,” Daphne said, awkwardly changing places. It was impossible to do the task without touching. There’s eyes met and she was pretty sure he was considering kissing her. She met his gaze with suspicioun.
“Careful.”
“Sorry,” he said, not sure how he might have shared the space any better. He sat down and buckled himself in. On seeing her struggle with her restraint, he unbuckled and reached over to assist her.
Daphne slapped his hand.
“Again, sorry,” Preston said, withdrawing his hands.
“Press that to release the strap.”
“I can figure it out,” Dahpne insisted.
He patiently waited till she was buckled in and then did the same. He began the start up sequence.
“What do we do if people shoot at us?” Daphne asked.
“We shoot back?” Preston asked, wondering if it were a test question.
“No, really. People see a lone a Tie Fighter, they may just take pot shots for the sake of revenege,” Daphne said.
Preston agreed half heartedly as he finished.
“You secure, Red? Want to take us up?” Red whistled happily.
“You’re going to let the Droid fly?” Daphne asked.
“It has all the protocols programed, it just needs some experience,” Preston said.
“Why, you nervous?”
“Of course I am not nervous. I am a Jedi,” Daphne said.
“In training,” Preston reminded.
Daphne frowned.
“I have a spare Lightsaber if you want to borrow it,” Preston said.
“The first one I ever built. It’s stored in that panel under your feet.”
“I don’t want anything from you,” Daphne said.
“Just till you get another?” Preston asked.
“No,” she said.
Preston nodded. Orbit didn’t come fast enough to ease the discomfort generated by his guest. He found the shift from atmosphere to space pleasant, as it was was much quieter, and looking down on the planet just seemed peaceful. The hyperdrive module was in Dathomirs shadow and not visible to the naked eye, but Red took the ship directly towards it. It took only a moment to remote activate the systems and mate up. Another moment was spent calculating the jump to hyperspace. Preston verified the math, walking through all the known variables from origin to destination. They seemed good. And the Droid’s math was no doubt better than his own, but he could do something that the droid couldn’t. He could Force see ahead, traveling the route at speed of thought. That didn’t mean he would make out all threats, but he would have better than average feeling of how things might turn out. He allowed Red the honor of executing the jump to hyper. Once they were in the stream, Preston folded his legs up into the chair, striking a meditative pose.
“That’s it?” daphne asked.
“I’m sorry, did you want to hold a conversation?” Preston asked.
“Not really,” Daphne said.
Preston resumed eyes closed, internal mantra.
“You’re not wearing a suit,” Daphne said.
Preston shrugged, not sure how to respond to such an obvious observation.
“You can hold your bladder for four hours?” Daphne asked.
“Sometimes,” he said.
“What if you need to go? You’re not going to pee in a bottle, are you?” Daphne asked.
“Oh, no,” Preston assured her.
“So, how…” Daphne asked.
“I’m not called a Waycaster for nothing,” Preston said.
Daphne thought about it, then made a face.
“Ewww. I keep thinking you’re not going to be able to be more disgusting.”
“What’s disgusting about eliminating? We all carry stuff and we all have to get rid of stuff, so why not shift it out there using the Force?” Preston asked.
“That’s not what the Force is for. The Force is sacred. It’s for health and defense,” Daphne said.
“And it’s defensively healthy to eliminate,” Preston said.
“I don’t understand all these caveats you carry. If the Force really pervades the entire universe, and penetrates and binds us all together, don’t you think that includes our waste, which is in every cell of our bodies, even the cells of midichlorians. There is even life within our waste. Well, not urine, typically, as it tends to be sterile with the exception of bacterial infections, and bacteria is a life vector.”
“I try not to think about such things,” Daphne said, and reclined her chair. It reclined much further than the flight chair, and much faster, and swept her legs up and out from the base. She recovered well and closed her eyes as if she had meant to stretch out. She wished sleep would take her.
The silence lasted about thirty minutes. She loosened the straps in order to turn on her side. She found Preston’s meditative pose both peaceful and annoying.
“Look, I’m sorry. It’s going to be a long four hours, cramped in a tiny space,” Dahpne said, trying to make peace.
Preston didn’t respond.
“I would like to talk,” Daphne admitted.
Preston opened his eyes.
“Okay,” he agreed.
“About anything particular?”
“Why don’t you want to be a Jedi?” she asked.
“I don’t require a title,” Preston said.
“If you’re as good as Yeno believes you to be, then we’re going to need you,” Daphne said.
“For what? More recruiting? Fighting?”
“Yeno said something is coming. We need to prepare.”
“There is always something coming. Tomorrow, next year, the future, things will happen, some good, some bad…” Preston offered.
“You have an answer for everything, don’t you?” Daphne demanded.
“Don’t you?”
“You dismiss our ways, our knowledge, even Yeno’s vision,” dahpne
“I’m not dismissing your views. They’re all valid, from your perspective,” Preston said.
“There is only our perspective. The Jedi are the light guiding the Galaxy to a better way of being,” Daphne insisted.
“I’m not sure what history tapes you’re referring to, but my survey of history suggests that everywhere a Jedi shows up there is a fight and bloodshed. That’s hardly an endorsement for being guardians of peace,” Preston said.
“We’ve been at war,” daphne argued.
“With yourselves. Look, you refer to the Jedi as a light. Assume for moment that’s not just a metaphor. What was really illuminated? Who shined that light and on what? If there is a dark side of the Force, then the shadows exist because the light cast them. Jedi can’t exist without Sith.”
“That is blasphemous.”
“Maybe. There is good and bad in all of us. Take us for example. You’re a good person. I’m a good person. And yet, for whatever reason, we have assume antagonistic roles towards each other, probably because there is underlying, unconscious need that the Universe needs to express through some artificial conflict. I use the word artificial because what we’re doing isn’t real. When we have set these bodies down and once again become truly one with the Force, you and I will commune like long lost family and laugh about the drama we shared.”
“Oh, really? Is that your metaphysical belief, or some esoteric theory you’re developing?” Daphne said, not hiding her contempt.
“Am I detecting scorn and bitterness from you?” Preston asked.
“No, just sarcasm,” Daphne said.
“And there you have the second reason I don’t want to be a Jedi. You love judgement, which is often revealed through your anger.”
“I am not angry!”
“Then why the judgement?’ “I’m not judging!”
“You’re argumentive.”
“I’m not arguing!”
“So, you’re argument is you’re not being confrontational or contrary?”
“I just said, I’m not arguing.”
“Well, technically, now you’re arguing about arguing, which is the correct use per the vernacular, but doesn’t negate my use of the word which is defines point of view,” Preston said.
“Do you have to have the last word?” Daphne asked.
“Maybe. But returning to my original argument, judgement is one of the crucial artifacts of being a Jedi. You judge good and evil, who is right, who will die, who is worthy, who isn’t, who is productive, and who is wasteful. The very act of judging causes us to fall short of where the Force aims to put us. If you assume for even a moment that we are better than Sith, than your intellect has failed you, for even the Sith sit in judgement. I dare say, one can argue the worst of the Sith, Darth Vader himself, was only evil because he had so much ‘good’ laden judgement that he could rationalize any and all of his behaviors and thoughts as being in everyone else’s best interest.”
“How dare you compare the Jedi to Sith, us to the likes of Darth Vader!”
“I thought it was common knowledge that Luke believed his father had good in him, that he could reach him through reason,” Preston said.
“That’s just folklore,” Daphne said.
“Luke killed Vader, and the Rebel fleet destroyed the Emperor on the Death Star.”
“Why don’t we ask Luke himself?”
“You know Luke? You know where to find him?” Daphne nearly sat up, but the seat restraints limited her movement.
“No, but that shouldn’t stop us from asking him? We are one with the Force, therefore we can speak to any Jedi dead or alive.”
“You can speak to Force ghosts?” Daphne asked, incredulously.
“We are all Force ghosts, just some of still occupy bodies,” Preston said.
“That’s not true,” Daphne argued.
“Only certain Jedi have learned to maintain themselves after death.”
“What is more likely; out of the hundreds of billions of sentient life forms, only a handful are aware of a life after death, and of those, only a few specially trained may maintain enough of themselves after death to be available to the few that have awareness of them? Or it is something we all have access to? If you accept that we are all beings of light, then it isn’t a great leap to understand that we had to unlearn what we are to experience being human, and we must unlearn being human to realize we are still Light.”
“It can’t be that simple,” Daphne protested. She unfastened her restraints and sat up.
“Where did you get this lnowledge? Who teaches this stuff?”
“I was taught not a set of knowledge, but rather a system for gathering knowledge. My knowing isn’t based on beliefs, but on direct experience. Does this mean I don’t get things wrong? No, as my experiences are also based on perspective, and there is one truth that I keep rediscovering and that is there is always another, higher perspective. The flesh is a vehicle, and the light of being preceded birth and goes on after death. Saying otherwise is absurd, like saying that 99 percent of all sentience is discarded like used tissues upon death. The same folklore that said Luke saved his father suggests Anakin Walker became accessible through the Force after Vader’s death, that Luke held conversations with him, Ben, and Yoda. Do you really think the Jedi would share knowledge and training that would allow the most villainous of Sith the ability to live on after death?”
“He must have stolen the knowledge or it was given to him by Sideous.”
“Let’s ask him?” Preston suggested.
“You want to summon Anakin Walker, risk raising Darth Vader?”
“I’ve already spoken to both. They’re on my committee,” Preston said.
“Okay, you’re going have to explain that, because that didn’t register,” Daphne said.
“I grew up alone, my only companion capable of speech a Droid named Fixit. He taught me that I could call on any historical figure, living or dead, and invite them into a conversation.”
“In your dreams,” Daphne said.
“Exactly,” Preston agreed.
“Each night, before sleep, I would ask to meet someone, and my unconscious would make that dream happen. Whether it is the unconscious projecting the personalities requested, or their Light actually visiting me, is irrelevant. For all intensive purposes, I met these people, interacted with them on a profound level. I interacted in dream state and on the astral plane. After a while, I realize I was tapping into a regular host of characters, and so I formalized my people into a committee consisting of 24 entities. 12 males governed the day, 12 females governed the night. 12 were Jedi. 12 were Sith.”
“You commune with Sith?”
“Commune isn’t quite accurate. When I stand amongst them in the circle, mostly the bickering of the twelve cancels everything out, and rarely a message gets through. Everynow and then, I get a little one on one time, and whether it is Jedi or Sith, they all try to influence me towards one of their unfinished agendas.”
“You really believe you speak to Jedi and Sith?” Daphne asked, incredulously.
“Everyday.”
“I think they have medicines for what ails you,” Daphne said.
“You’re a Jedi. You know there is more to life than what we can see with our eyes. Why would your first conclusion be I am mentally ill?” Preston asked.
“I don’t talk to ghosts, for starters,” Daphne said.
“You could if you wanted. And you would know the difference between a Ghost and a hallucination through understanding that people who hallucinate generally report their visions as disturbing, out of sync with reality. My visions are not disturbing. They provide clarity. They have helped me survive,” Preston said.
“It’s my fault for trying to engage you in a civil conversation. I now understand you’re not at fault, because you are clearly insane, perhaps from years of forced solitude,” she said, laying back down. She turned away from him.
“Who is more insane, the person labeling other and then turning their back to them, or the one who risked sharing who they are?” Preston asked.
“Don’t the Jedi teach that secluding themselves for a specific time deepens their connection to the Force, allowing them visions?”
Daphne didn’t respond. If he had looked, Preston would have seen tears flowing. He checked his internal clock: three hours, 29 minutes to arrival. He sighed, looked forward, and allowed himslf to enjoy the visual effects of hyperspace travel, diving into a ‘tunnel’ trance. His eyes finally became heavy, and he went into a deeper meditation.
♫♪►
Anong and Somchai, Heer’s parents, lived on a Vinyard outside the main city of Pornrat Noi. On marrying, they had pooled their resources and purchased the land, and had made a reasonable income off the wines they sold. In addition to the wine, they also made a number of products that were derived from the pollinating insects they cultivated. Honey, soaps, royal jelly, lipbalms, were just some of those, but it was the yeast collected from the back of the queen insect that made their wine fermenting process unique. The insect and grapes used originated on this planet, making the purist and enthusiast adamant that this was the only product of value, even though there were several companies that had duplicated the process and were mass producing the same product.
From town, Preston and Daphne walked to the farm, mostly to stretch their legs after being cooped up in the Fighter and partly because the both knew they would be cooped up again on the return flight. The sun was warm on their face, tempered by a cool breeze that carried the scents exotic plant life, and the discernable smell that often comes around farms, by products of animal husbrandry. A kiosk at the entry to Heer’s farm provided a sampling of products. Preston wasn’t sure what to make of the lipbalm until Daphne impatiently instructed him.
“Oh,” he said, putting some on his pinky to apply it to his lips. He pursed his lips. He slipped the small container into his side pack, left a coin with the Droid minding the kiosk, and proceeded up the road with Daphne. The road to the house was shaded by trees that lined both sides. As they approached the house, Anong came out on the porch to greet them. She bowed respectfully.
“Welcome, Jedi, to our home,” Anong said.
Daphne couldn’t speak. Preston didn’t fault her. The onus for speaking was on him.
“Mrs. Heer,” Preston said, bowing.
“I would like to speak to you and your husband together, if that is possible.”
Anong sat down on the top step of the Porch. It was as if she knew why they were there. She touched her ring, turning the inner component till it clicked. In a foreign tongue, she asked her husband to join her on the front porch. She motioned for them to sit on the steps with her while they waited.
Somchai soon arrived on the front porch, wiping his hands.
“Oh, we have guests? And Jedi’s to boot. Honey, why have’t you offered them refreshments?”
Again, in native tongue, she told the husband, “They have business to conduct and then I want them gone.”
Somchai wasn’t sure what was going on, but he knew his wife well enough that he wasn’t going to argue.
“State your business, Jedi,” Somchai said, putting his hand on his wife’s shoulder.
Preston opened his bag and withdrew a Lightsaber cradle and placed it on the stairs. He then withdrew Heer’s Lightsaber, placed it on the stand, and then withdrew the diamond remains, which he removed from a felt pouch, and then unwrapped.
“It was Master Heer’s request that his remains be brought to you, as well as his Lightsaber,” Preston said.
Somchai’s face reddened. His wife reached up and put her hand on his hand, but stared at the diamond.
“What happened?” Somchai demanded.
“I killed him in battle,” Preston said, not explaining or trying to soften it with explanation.
Somchai pulled out an ‘asp-killer,’ which at point blank range could easily kill a human.
“Somchai, put that away,” Anong snapped.
“He dare come to our home and speak what he did and expect me to just to do nothing?!” Somchai said.
“We knew our son’s profession would most likely end in his death, and most likely by the sword,” Anong said.
“A meaningful death, sure. Dying for a cause, sure. But this? What is this?!” Somchai demanded.
“My son was a good man. What sort of man are you?”
“The fact that he is here in person tells us something about his character,” Anong said.
“I can not undo what was done. I can only offer one thing that might ease your pain,” Preston said.
“What could you possibly do to ease my pain?” Somchai demanded.
“How can you even understand what I am feeling?”
“I can never understand what you’re feeling,” Preston said.
“I can only offer you my life as payment. You may enslave me or kill me as you see fit.”
“What?” Anong and Daphne both said. Daphne added.
“Are you completely mad?!”
“All actions have consequences. I took a life, mine is now forfeit,” Preston said.
“I will not fight you, Somchai. Killing me may have its own set of consequences for you, but I would not fault you, and I would consider my life as down payment on what I still owe.”
“Somchai, put that away now! You stop being ridiculous,” Anong said, pointing at Preston.
“We are not taking your life. There is enough senseless death in the Universe. Somchai?!”
Somchai’s hand was shaking. He took another step forwards and down. Even with his hands shaking, he was not likely to miss at this range, and it would likely shatter the skull and penetrate all the way through to the brain stem. Heer was suddenly there, quietly asking his father not to do it, explaining to him it would only add to his grief.
“You really want to die?” Somchai said.
“There is no death. I accept your decision,” Preston said.
“Don’t!” Daphne said.
“I was Heer’s Padawan. His death is my fault. I didn’t listen and things got out of hand and it is all because I failed to follow instructions. If anyone should die, it should be me. Please, don’t kill this man because of my foolishness.”
Somchai turned the asp-killer towards Daphne.
“You are Daphne, the one Heer told us about? This is your doing?”
“Somchai, this was clearly just an accident. Their training is difficult and their weapons are deadly. You are going to have to let this go,” Anong said.
“How do I let it go?!” Somchai demanded.
“Go ahead. Kill me. I deserve it,” Daphne said.
Somchai returned the asp-killer to its hoslter and sat down next to his wife. He openly wept on her shoulder. Daphne walked away. Her departure speed increased until she was running. Heer asked Preton to go after her. Preston ignored him and continued to stand before Heer’s family. Heer kneeled behind his parents. He tried to touch his dad, but for him, it was as if the world had become a hologram, and he had no more say over the direction of outcomes than he would over the plot development of a holonovel. The only difference between this and a book was he cared for the characters at a profound level. Actually, deeper than he had ever considered.
“I have never seen my father emote so strongly before,” Heer finally spoke.
“Tell him I love him.”
Preston’s own eyes became moist, but he didn’t speak the words. Anong comforted her husband, taking the trade off of being the strong one, something couples only learn to do over time. Amidst the sobbing of a man, the humming of insects could be heard, the call of birds, the whine of a Droid slowly tending a row of grapes, and a chime on the porch, tingly soft tones. No one spoke untail Somchai had quieted. The front of Anong’s shirt was stained with husband’s tears.
“He’s here, isn’t he,” Anong asked.
“I believe so,” Preston said.
Anong nodded.
“Is he at peace?”
“Oh, I am, mom. More than I ever was while in the flesh. Maybe if I had understood what I know now, my drive to become a Jedi would not have existed. I would have stayed on the farm with you and dad, maybe had a family, I wouldn’t have gone off chasing esoteric knowledge. I was wrong. Being a Jedi was not about the quest. A true Jedi is content just being where he is. We teach this, but I am only now seeing this clearly…” He was overwhelmed with his own emotions. He turned as if seeing someone, someone Preston was not able to see.
“Grandfather?”
Somchai sat up, his hand on his wife’s knee.
“I want you gone from here, never t