When next Celestia returned to her penthouse after another long day of medical testing, all she felt was drained. Ignoring the salutes from her guards, the princess simply slunk back to her room, curled up on the sofa by the window, and stared outside. Beyond the table and the statue resting atop it, she could see miles out into the vast cityscape of Coruscant. Millions of beings lived in those skyscrapers, tens of thousands of them were being shuttled this way and that by an army of speeders. But the princess had a mind for none of it.
Luna was the only subject she had a mind for right now. How could she do this? Celestia asked herself the question for the thousandth time. How could her little sister do this? How could she stand to remain in the service of a being like Vader? Couldn’t she see what her absence was doing to Equestria? Doing to her sister? Celestia had nearly been killed by Vader for daring to try to get her back, and Luna slapped that away like it was nothing? After she had waited a thousand years, welcomed her back after her attempt at nothing less than planetary extinction, her sister just rejected her after a mere few months under Vader? What would drive her to do that? How could she be so unrepentant, so ungrateful?
And, as Celestia stared past the statue and out the window beyond yet again, a new question came unbidden to the princess' mind.
How dare she?
“In my creator’s time, there were many amongst the Jedi Order who considered personal attachments to be unbefitting of a Jedi,” said Bastila’s image. “Moreover, they considered it to be dangerous, leading to selfishness, possessiveness, and even the dark side.”
“That’s…” Twilight wheezed from where she lay sprawled out on the plains. “That’s completely wrong!” She forced herself to sit up, muscles aching with the effort of nearly eighteen hours of nonstop exertion. “Friendship, attachment, love… those aren’t negative influences. They’re what make our lives worth living. I’d never have discovered what harmony was really all about without them!”
“Fortunately, my creator was not among them, and so I agree with you,” the hologram nodded. “She married, and had a child, even though it cost her reputation with the Order to suffer greatly. Some even called her a heretic for it, even after her long service against Darths Revan and Malak.”
“That’s horrible!” The alicorn took another deep breath. “Did they ever… manage to reconcile?”
“I… don’t know,” the gatekeeper said, looking down a little sadly. “When she created me Bastila Shan was not on good terms with the Jedi High Council, and because of that I rarely saw use. She was decades dead by the time I was invoked for serious training, so I never found out how it all ended. Regardless,” she looked up again, “The reason that I bring that perspective up is to offer my own. I do not believe attachment to be some crime or stigmata. The Force flows from all life, as we draw close to it, it is natural and healthy that we should seek to draw closer to our fellows. To deny this is cut ourselves off from an essential part of the Force, no different really than lopping off an arm.”
“No matter what they said, I wouldn’t trade my friends for any amount of Force power.”
“And I wouldn’t expect you to.”
“Then why bring it up?”
“Because, though I believe their answer to the problem was incorrect, the old Masters were pointing out a legitimate difficulty. Attachments can go awry, leading to jealousy, possessiveness, festering hatred, or lust for vengeance. This can be a struggle for beings oblivious to the Force’s call, for those who hear it plainly the consequences can be most dire. Not a few have fallen to the dark side when, out of fear or desire, they’ve called on it to try and possess or to save the ones they love.”
“That sounds a bit more like greed than love.”
“Perhaps, but at the same time one should not be entirely unsympathetic towards them. Stalwart in opposing them, yes, but not completely unfeeling. They cry out to it for power, oblivious to the costs. The dark side will give them the power they seek, but take everything from them in return.” Bastila frowned. “You must understand this: the dark side will never allow its adherents to be happy. Simple things like joy, peace, or even contentment are anathema to it. Whatever happens, whatever love was once there, it will perish in flames and leave those poor souls with nothing but ashes.”
“Why…” Twilight looked thoughtful. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because it seems like a lesson that would be relevant to you.”
“You think my friends are in danger?” Twilight sat bolt upright, previous exhaustion forgotten.
“Not in any immediate sense, no,” Bastila shook her head. “But you had mentioned that your species can live indefinitely. Does this include all the inhabitants of your world? Does it include your friends?”
“Well… no,” she answered slowly, looking down a little.
“That is why,” the gatekeeper answered softly. “My creator knew well the pain of losing someone dear to you, the temptation to call upon dark powers to try and call them back. She also knew how important it was not to surrender to that temptation.”
“And what exactly was her solution?” Twilight frowned, contemplating a subject she really would rather have not. “How did she deal with the problem?”
“She learned to trust in the Force, and its will. I know that that perhaps sounds like a mere platitude, but it is true. The Force surrounds us, binds us, moves through us and through all living things. Jedi allow themselves to become conduits for the will of the Force, and through that we come to understand that our loved ones are not truly gone. They move on to greater things, becoming a part of that which is all around us. In that way, they never truly leave.”
Twilight just frowned harder. She’d never been one with much time for religion. Then again, death had been a stranger until not so long ago, and ever since she’d had a constant stream of activity to keep her mind busy. She wondered if she’d truly ever thought that hard about it.
“Grief, sorrow, and mourning for the lost are all perfectly natural processes, and far be it from me to deny them to anyone,” Bastila continued. “But at the same time, one cannot allow sorrow, when it comes, to dominate your mind. You are a being with a great deal of latent power, and I am certain there will come a day when you are at your lowest and temptation will reach out to you. It is vital you understand that even the most powerful beings cannot save everyone, and that giving in to temptation will only bring you misery.”
“That’s… a pretty heavy lesson.”
“I know. But it is a necessary one.”
“You mind if I go and consider that for a little while.”
“By all means,” she spread her arms, “go and sleep, eat, meditate, or whatever it is that you require. I will be here for you, when next you are ready.”
As Twilight rose to her feet, the hologram vanished.
“I need three things,” Luna said, as she scrawled through a long list of beings. “First, I need someone who knows how to swing a sword around, at least well enough not to cut off their own arm.” She could only skim at the lightest of paces, allowing the Force to guide her instincts, as she browsed through a list of the millions of people in prison on Denon for various offenses.
“I don’t think arranging for a martial artist should be terribly difficult,” said Commander Neeri, walking beside her. “While it’s true Denon has never been famed as a warlike planet, when you gather enough beings in one place you’ll inevitably get some who take a fancy to the art of combat.”
“Second,” Luna continued, not looking up. “I’ll need at least three or four squads of Stormtroopers. Well-disciplined men, who know how to shut up, do as they’re told, and ask no questions.”
“Easily done,” said the ISB man. “We have tens of thousands of Stormtroopers garrisoning this planet, it should be no difficulty to pull a few squads for your use.”
“Make sure that they are up to snuff. The last ISB personnel assigned to me were dreadfully below par.”
“Of course, my lady,” he nodded hastily.
“Thirdly, and most importantly, I need a Force-sensitive. Someone a Jedi could sense. Ideally, I would prefer that they bear a resemblance to the martial artist, but I am aware we cannot be too choosy in this field.”
“A… Force-sensitive?” The Commander looked aghast.
“Did I stutter?”
“My lady, we of course would comply with your request, but…” he fidgeted a little. “We turn over all captured or suspected Force-wielders to our superiors, be it to Lord Vader or to your organization. We don’t simply keep them lying around.”
“And you are telling me that on this entire planet containing billions of souls, there is no one you even suspect of being a Force user? Not a single, solitary soul?”
“Well…” the man considered for a moment, as the skull-faced helmet turned to stare up at him. Neeri gave a slight shudder, before hastily continuing. “The closest that we know of is an Iktotchi who runs a gambling establishment in the Spirtal district. There’s been a persistent rumor that he has the ability to read minds or see the future to ferret out cheaters, but there’s never been any hard evidence of that. In any event he’s been quite scrupulous in abiding by Imperial regulations, so we’ve never had any cause to investigate further.”
“And now you do,” Luna finished for him. “Round him up without delay. Make certain you confirm his presence and secure all possible vectors of escape before moving in. Then bring him to me, I will know if he can touch the Force.”
“And if he can?”
“Then I wiill have everything I need.”
“What is the meaning of this?” demanded the Iktotchi, not an hour later.
He had been carrying out his normal midday work, reviewing profit reports and ensuring his premises were clean before the sundown rush, when a squad of Imperial Stormtroopers had pushed their way past his security, cuffed him, and dragged him off without a word of explanation. Now here he was, alone and cold in a gloomy black detention cell, without the slightest pretext of legality or hint of he was being charged for. Most people would have been afraid, and he was, but he was also indignant. He’d always done everything the authorities had asked of him, be they Republic or Empire, and keep his establishment far from trouble. And now he’d simply been randomly seized and unlawfully thrown in detention!
“Shike Roan,” said the strange, armored quadruped that had just entered. “Owner and proprietor of Roan’s Roulettes for some twenty-nine years now, am I correct?”
“Yes, and a law-abiding citizen that whole time! I demand to know on what charges I’ve been imprisoned for, and I demand to speak with a lawyer at once!”
“You are in no position to make demands,” it said in that filtered, mechanical, presumably female voice.
“You can’t just pull a man off the street and throw him in prison for no reason!”
“Can’t I?” She relaxed one of the wings folded against her armored side slightly, and a small cylinder floated out. There was a deep hiss as a red blade flared to life, brilliant in the cell’s gloom. “You don’t seem to have any idea of just who you are dealing with.”
Shike recoiled franticly from the crimson lightsaber, eye wide, but in the tiny cell there was nowhere to go. Backed up against a wall and with the blade a mere few feet from him, his face quickly began to acquire a sheen of sweat.
“Please,” he breathed. “I d-don’t know anything about Jedi, I swear! I’ve never met one in my life and I would n-never give harbor to-”
“Oh, I know,” she cut him off. “You would already be dead if you were suspected of that. No, I called you in here because I need you for something else.”
“…need me f-for what?” he managed.
“The specifics are not important. All I require is that you sit in a cell for a few days, and meditate when I tell you to.”
“Meditate?” he blinked. “I’m… not exactly a monk, ma’am. I-I don’t know much about-”
“I do not really care how proficient you are with it, that you have a dim, weak, but recognizable presence in the Force is enough. Simply do your best when commanded, and I will see to it that you are well-rewarded for your efforts. Does that sound agreeable?”
“I-I…”
“Oh, and please keep in mind that if you say no, I will have to execute you as a threat to operational security.”
Shike stole a quick glance at the humming lightsaber, swallowed, then nodded quickly.
“Excellent.”