Empire and Rebellion

by Snake Staff


52: Apprenticeship (I)

“I understand,” said the all too familiar hologram of Fulcrum. Even through the synthesizer, the voice was noticeably pained and worn. “You need time.”

“Yes…” Twilight nodded slowly, uncertain of exactly how much to say. “You recall what happened in the hanger? And what I was told?”

“Naturally. And what happened afterwards as well,” there was a faint bitterness to the words. “I assume this has something to do with that?”

“You’re right, it does. And I know there’s still so much to be done, but still I think this could be something really important for the future.”

“Normally I hate indiscipline and unpredictability.” There came a weary sigh. “But I don’t think I have the right to stop you after what you went through on Coruscant and Corulag. How long do you think it will take?”

“I have no idea,” Twilight shook her head. “I’ll try and make it as quick as possible, so I can get back to you guys.”

“It would be appreciated.”

“Thank you,” the alicorn said, sincerely. “How’s he doing, by the way?”

“Well as can be expected. I think a world like Alderaan can do an old man a lot of good. Our friends there are taking good care of him, don’t worry. But he does keep asking about you.”

“Maybe I can visit sometime.”

“Yes well…” it paused. “Please, whatever you have to do, do it quickly. The galaxy waits for no being."

“I understand.”


The cool air of Kashyyyk crackled with the clash of lightsabers in the deepest jungles. Twin crimson blades, one whirling like a maddened dervish, the other deceptively slow, slashed at one another in the darkness. Sparks flew as the burning plasma nicked earth, trees, or corpses.

“Your technique is amateurish,” Darth Vader said. “Who told you this was the way to fight? If the good Inquisitor Cia was not dead I would kill her myself for this.”

Luna, blue coat matted with sweat under her suit, hissed through gritted teeth and redoubled the attack. Her blade twirled in a bewildering pattern meant to dazzle and confuse, before jabbing out at joints in well-timed and surprisingly precise thrusts. It wasn’t enough. It never was.

“No!” the cyborg snapped, parrying half a dozen such thrusts while barely seeming to move. “Clumsy, predictable, and most of all wasteful. I am beginning to think I am wasting my time with you.”

Her anger flared, and her blade swung for his head with all the energy she could muster. Vader met her power blow with a one-handed strike of his own. His strength was that of an avalanche, and he swatted her lightsaber aside. It spun wildly towards the ground, and before she could recover it he stormed forwards with surprising speed. Without the slightest hesistation he raised his sword for a deathblow.

A second red lightsaber shot out from beneath the alicorn’s wing as the blow fell, just barely racing up in time to prevent her skull from being carved in half. Vader pressed down mercilessly, and inevitably the locked blades descended like a guillotine in slow motion. Frantically, Luna ducked and rolled, forfeiting the contest and just barely avoiding being carved in half. Vader’s saber carved a long, glowing furrow in the ground where she had stood, but he did not pursue.

“Clumsy and stupid,” he said, even while she called both lightsabers back to her. “There is no strategy in your style, no tactics, and no thought. How do you expect to beat a child like this, much less the Emperor?”

“Lord Vader…” Luna breathed heavily. “We’ve been at this… for three days straight…”

Abruptly her windpipe sealed itself shut, and she was hurled headfirst into the nearest woshyr tree. She smashed into it with enough force to audibly crack wood. Before her ringing, oxygen-starved brain could even think of doing anything she was slammed into the ground with just as much force. Then there was a tug, and she was dragged none too gently across the dirt to lie in a heap at the cyborg’s feet, a red plasma blade held between her eyes.

“Explain to me what you did wrong, Inquisitor,” said Vader. “And perhaps I’ll allow you to live.”

Only then was she allowed to breathe.

“I…” she managed, between frantic gasps for air. “Didn’t… I didn’t…”

“Didn’t what?”

“I didn’t… go for the first blade… stab you in the back…” Luna panted.

“You failure to do so is indication of your poor training. You are not taking advantage your greatest strengths. Tell me what they are.”

“Distance… I can attack… outside of arm’s length…”

“You can.”

“Angles…” Luna took a deep breath, still struggling to calm her racing heart. “My lightsaber… isn’t bound to a hand. That means I can swipe at angles most opponents aren’t used to.”

“Yes. Now explain the weakness of your condition.”

“Lack of native strength…” Luna rubbed her throat. “Every strike is an act of will and focus, the more powerful it is the more I have to focus on one blade. Power blows require special concentration. And I use more energy to maintain the blade’s position than a humanoid uses simply holding one.”

“And concentration can be broken,” said Vader. “So explain to me what this tells you.”

“My greatest strengths are unpredictability and range. My weaknesses are strength deficiencies and the need for constant concentration.”

“So are you likely to win a straightforward contest of strength?”

“No.”

“Or a prolonged endurance duel?”

“No.”

“Then how are you to win a duel?”

“Overwhelm them…” Luna breathed. She looked up into Vader’s masked face. “Take advantage of the unorthodox movesets this style allows and blitz through their defenses before they can recover.”

“And is one blade, no matter how much you wastefully attempt to twirl it, in a set style such as Makashi likely to succeed at this?”

“Against a practiced master? No.”

“And what will you do if the enemy focuses their own telekinetic powers on your weapon? Even if they lack the strength to tear it from you entirely, perhaps they can disrupt your control of it for a time and slice it in half.” Finally, the cyborg withdrew his sword. “Then what becomes of you, Inquisitor?”

“I…” Luna rose unsteadily to her hooves. “Die.”

“Then solve this problem.”

She considered for a moment.

“Deny them the ability to focus all their efforts on one blade. If they want to fight over one, another stabs them in the back.”

“And how do you accomplish this?”

In wordless answer, Luna flared her now-grimy wings. A quartet of lightsabers, three red and one green, blazed to life in the deep darkness.

“At last you begin to see.” Vader’s red blade rose up. “Now come up at me again.”


“Dantooine,” said the holographic representation of Bastila Shan. “A beautiful world, really.”

Twilight held the holocron up over a seemingly-endless field of green, flat and nearly featureless for as far the eye could see, save only a few distant gentle hills. The sun overhead was pleasantly warm but not hot, the few clouds were soft and white, and there was a gentle breeze carrying the scent of wild grains. The Harmony had had no trouble finding a place to put down far from what passed for civilization on this lightly-populated planet.

“I’d say you’re right,” the alicorn nodded.

“Heck yeah she is!” came a voice from near her ankle. Spike took a deep, satisfied breath of the fresh air. “Warm sun and open space. Beats the heck out of Coruscant. And I never even got to see Corulag!”

“I told you before, it was too dangerous.”

“That's what you say about every world!”

“But not this one,” Bastilla’s image cut in. “At least, not here. Why don’t you enjoy a sun little sun and fresh air while we’re here? She and I have our own things to discuss.”

After weeks cooped up in a ship or a small Coruscanti apartment, Spike needed little excuse to stretch his legs. The young dragon bounded off eagerly swiftly disappearing into the surrounding fields of tall grass and wild grain. Twilight watched him go with just the slightest tinge of guilt.

“It’s not that I mean to seem overbearing, it’s just…” she trailed off.

“Trust me,” the Jedi Master’s image said with a sympathetic smile. “My originator once raised a child. I know.”

“So why did we come here, anyway?”

“Because this world is too remote to ever truly be the subject of substantive colonization.” She paused. “Or at least that was how it was in my time. It’s peaceful here, and quiet. A good environment for practicing meditation.”

“Alright… where exactly?”

“Here is as good a place as any, I think.”

Obediently, Twilight sat down, legs crossed.

“Begin by simply closing your eyes,” Bastila said. “They can deceive you, and should not be trusted. The first step in any Jedi’s path is to learn to perceive the Force around them, and a tranquil like this is rich in the light. Even in this era of the so-called ‘Galactic Empire’, the Force is still present. So for now, simply reach out and touch it with your mind.”

“Like… this?” Twilight’s face scrunched a little.

“Don’t think, feel. A Jedi does not seek to exert her will through the Force, rather, she allows its light to flow through her.”

There was a pause. The breeze blew gently through Twilight’s hair. Some form of bird chirped from somewhere in the fields.

“Not thinking is kind of hard for me,” Twilight admitted.

“You’ll get the hang of it.”


“Don’t be discouraged,” Bastila said, many hours later, as the sun slowly set overhead. “It certainly wasn’t the most inept display my thought-pattern has ever seen.”

“Thanks… I think?” Twilight said, from where she lay on her back in the soft grass. “Do you think there might be some kind of more… academic style of meditation? I mean, I’ve always found a sort of peace with my books back home. Do you know of anything like that?”

“I can consult my memory crystals,” said the gatekeeper. “You aren’t the first trainee of a more scholarly disposition. I’m sure I can find some exercises that are more appropriate.”

“Maybe…” Twilight considered. “A different world? Or at least a place with more civilization around? We have to keep a low profile, but I’m barely even able to touch the Holonet out here. Maybe a small-town library or something?”

Bastila’s image frowned. “Well, I hadn’t planned to bring it up until later stages, but I did choose this world for more reasons than just how peaceful it is.”

“Hmmm?” Twilight sat up a bit. “Why?”

“Well, during my time Dantooine was also a source of rare Adegan crystals, which from what you’ve told me about this new Empire I doubt will be very available. Of course it has been almost four thousand years since then, so I admit the odds are rather against us. But perhaps once you learn to sense the Force more clearly, we can-”

“Hey guys!”

Spike’s voice interrupted the Jedi Master’s and both females turned to look at the baby dragon. He waved cheerfully with his free arm as he emerged from the tall grass, walking casually towards them. His other arm had a small bundle tucked away beneath it.

“This place is great!” he said. “Warm sun, blue skies, and cool breeze. And some tasty treats too!”

Spike fished around in the little improvised cloth bag beneath his right arm, extracting a shimmering yellow gemstone. Before anyone could say a word, he popped it in his mouth with a flick of the thumb.

“Kinda tiny I admit,” he pronounced as he chewed. “But they’re really sweet, and they have this great aftertaste that leaves you feeling like you’re on cloud nine! As good as anything I’ve had back home.”

Twilight couldn’t help but giggle a bit.

Bastila looked like someone had slapped her with a live trout.

“What?” Spike blinked.