An Unexceptional Jedi: Chapter I Chapter I The two young Jedi yawned in unison. “I can’t believe we all have to sit through this. I think it’s pretty clear who will be manning the moisture-vaporateurs while the rest of us are out saving the universe.” Both boys turned to glare at one of their classmates who was having trouble turning off her lightsaber. “Yeah, well I just hope it’s short. I have some real work to do today.” “How much can a Farmer have to say?” An old man with a narrow face and sparse beard made his way slowly into the garden. The children focused on his limp, wondering if it was an old war wound — before dismissing that possibility from their collective mind. “Good morning, my friends.” “Good morning, Master Koshari.” The use of “Master” in this instance was simply a formality. All of the younglings were aware that Koshari was not truly a Jedi master. He wasn’t even a Knight. He was a “Farmer” — one of those unfortunate few who were not chosen to be Padawans but sent instead to do whatever oddjobs the miserable failures could perform. Apparently, one of these jobs was instructing the youth of the Temple, a job which entitled the instructor to an honorary Master if nothing else. Koshari approached the girl with the uncooperative lightsaber. “May I?” He took the blade and held it up. “Sometimes, when I look at these they seem so bright I need to shield my eyes. But they do not provide the light by which the Jedi are known. That comes from somewhere else.” He pressed a button and the blade retracted into nothingness. He gave it back to the girl with a smile. The children formed a semi-circle before him. “Soon, some of you will be called to follow the path of Knighthood. Some of you will not. Each Jedi must walk his or her own path. And each Jedi is valuable.” The younglings exchanged skeptical looks. “I wanted to speak to you in the gardens because this place reminds me of the potential within each Jedi.” He walked, in his limping fashion, to a row of stone busts. Stopping at the first he looked expectantly at his students. “Do you know who this Jedi is?” They did not. “His name was Talbut Jidds. He spent his life helping refugees on different worlds. He created a way for Jedi to administer aid to people in need after wars or disasters. And this…” He pointed to the next bust. No answer. “She is called Orida Poliyra. She helped build the Republic’s education system. She wanted everyone to have equal access to learning.” He stepped further down the line. “This next fellow was Jion Tumpy. He –” “Did he kill any Sith?” Koshari turned and looked at the boy. The child’s face was set in a bored scowl, though beneath it the youngling was basking in the attention that the class was now paying him. “No, friend. I have not heard that Jion Tumpty killed any Sith at all. He was the worst sort of what you might call a ‘Farmer.’ He saved an entire system from famine and war, and with it, countless lives. Alas.” After the lecture had ended and the class had dispersed. Koshari sat beneath the shade of an Oonta tree. One day they might understand. But that day was not today. He closed his eyes and began to doze, dreaming fitfully of the past. * * * The boy knelt beside the grave and poured some of his father’s favorite drink over the thirsty dust. In the distance the horizon shimmered with heat. Far, far to the east a wisp of smoke reached into the sky. “Dad, we’re out of food. I’m going to take the speeder and try to get to town.” The boy waited but the ground and air were silent. This did not trouble him. He had grown used to silence in the week since he had buried his father behind their ramshackle house. “I wish you had taught me how to drive the speeder, but I guess you didn’t get a chance. It’s okay. I’ll figure it out.” He looked again to the east. The same shimmering sand flats, same broken landscape — there was a streak of black somewhere out there. Probably a dust-devil. “I just wanted to let you know so you wouldn’t worry… If I…” The boy’s throat betrayed him and he squeezed his eyelids shut to prevent the tears from coming again. “I– just- wanted you to know I was okay and I won’t be able to give you the proper offering for a few days, ” he croaked, “but I promise I’ll come back. So don’t be worried and don’t be lonely. You’ve got Ma here to keep you company.” He nodded towards his mother’s grave, and wondered for the thousandth time whether he had dug his father’s too far from it. It had seemed plenty close as he was digging it. “So, I’m gonna say ‘Goodbye’ now. Goodbye.” And he dropped down in the dust and hugged it to himself and cried again but didn’t care. It seemed so unfair that they had left him alone like this. And then, wiping away the mud from his cheeks, he looked out again, and stared. The dust-devil was coming closer — a wavering black form in the heat. Time passed, and the figure grew and became more defined. It began to look like a man. The boy wondered whether it was his father. Maybe somehow he hadn’t died of the fever and was coming back to him. But then who was it he buried? As the stranger got closer, and by now he was very close, the boy realized it was not his father. It was a ragged man, dragging himself along. He was heading to the house. His face was sunburnt and his skin cracked with a few days growth of beard. He saw the boy and stretched out a hand towards him. The boy stood and watched as the man opened his mouth and tried to say something. No sound came out. “Hello, mister.” The boy waited. The stranger’s eyes rolled up into his head and he collapsed on the ground, releasing a small cloud of dust. The boy waited a while longer and then approached the fallen man. He was wearing strange clothes and seemed to have nothing on his person beside a small metal cylinder. The boy examined this for a few seconds and then pressed a button. A white-blue blade of pure light shot out of the lightsaber and the boy whooped with surprise and delight. The weapon hummed as he cut a few passes through the air. He pressed the button again and the blade disappeared. The stranger lay still on the ground, breathing faintly. The boy watched him for a while and thought. November 15, 2011 | Categories: An Unexceptional Jedi | Leave a comment

An Unexceptional Jedi: Chapter II Chapter II When Teslo Koshari opened his eyes he saw a child staring back at him. “Master, are you well?” He did not answer. His eyes took in his surroundings — the gardens of the Temple. Yes, he had just finished a lecture here. He looked at the youngling, a girl. She had been having trouble with her lightsaber. The tired Jedi closed his eyes again. When next Koshari opened his eyes the child before him was different. A boy. And it was a lifetime earlier. “Mister, are you okay?” “Where am I?” Koshari tried to rise, realized he was in a bed and that he had very little strength. The boy stared at him. “What do you mean where are you? This is my house. You came here. Remember?” “No. I’m sorry. I’m… I… What happened to me?” “I dunno. You came awalking out of the waste and you had the fever. It might have fried your brain. Do you feel stupid?” “Not any more than usual.” He sat up in the bed and tried to remember. He had been with the others, his fellow researchers, something had gone wrong. A crash. “I need to contact a Jedi temple, immediately.” “Uh huh.” “Are your parents around?” “Uh huh.” “I’ll need to speak with them.” “They’re dead.” Koshari wondered if maybe he wasn’t feeling stupider than usual. “You live by yourself? Can you help me send a message to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant?” The boy stared. Koshari realized he was going to do this the long way. “My name is Teslo Koshari. I’m a Jedi. What’s your name?” “Sam.” “I’m pleased to meet you, Sam. But there has been an accident and I need to let my Temple know. There was a crash. Do you understand?” “I knew you were a Jedi. I saw your sword.” Through careful interrogation and the investment of an hour, Koshari was able to learn the following: Sam’s father had recently died of “the fever”, there was no open communication channel at the farmstead, they would need to go to town, he had been asleep with the fever himself for three days. “Three days?” “Yes.” Koshari finished the broth Sam had brought him. “I had been ready to leave for town but you came here and fell over. We gotta go soon though, we ain’t got no food.” Koshari looked at the empty bowl in front of him. “What have you been eating, Sam?” “This and that. I’m not so hungry.” The boy’s stomach growled in disagreement. A few hours later they stood loading the few supplies onto Sam’s father’s speeder. Even this small exertion caused Koshari to need a brief respite. “I thought you were gonna die of the fever too, but then I figured what would be the point of my dad sending you if you was gonna die?” “Your dad sent me?” “Yeah. I was talking to him,” Sam gestured towards the graves behind the house, “and telling him he oughtn’t have left me alone and stuff and then you showed up.” “Sam, I don’t think your father sent me.” “Then why are you here?” After another tearful goodbye between Sam and his parents (during which Sam promised to watch over the Jedi they had sent), Koshari and the boy climbed into the speeder and headed off in the direction of town. “What’s that, Sam?” Sam scanned the sky until he spotted a small black ship. “Oh, that’s a sprayer. The Fed sends them to spray farmsteads to take care of the burrow-bugs. I tried to yell at one a few days ago, but they fly too high to notice anything.” Koshari judged that the ship was too far away to try and signal to at any rate. “Will it be coming this way again?” “No. I don’t think so. They sprayed my place two weeks back while I was still in town at school. My dad told…” Sam’s voice trailed off and he feel into his own thoughts. Koshari didn’t interrupt him. He had been thinking of the infestation of burrow-bugs he had noticed on some of Sam’s crops that morning. Evidently, the spray was not very effective. Barely an hour had passed after their departure when three men arrived on swoop-bikes at the farm. The newcomers quickly searched the house, and then examined the tracks left by the hover-propulsion of the speeder. They remounted their bikes and blasted away in pursuit — their black tattered robes flapping in the wind. As the speeder drove on, Sam turned to Koshari with a confused look on his face. “I thought Jedi were about fighting and stuff.” “Some of us are. Jedi Knights patrol the galaxy doing good, fighting evil.” “Why aren’t you a Jedi Knight then?” Koshari smiled. “Because when I was about your age, many Masters came to meet with us and they spoke to us to see if they would take us as Padawans — or students. That was the first step to Knighthood.” “And nobody wanted you?” Koshari laughed. Well, he thought, at least I can laugh about it now. “I was not chosen — and I’m enough of a Jedi to guess your next question: Why not?” Sam nodded, impressed with his companion’s skill. “I don’t really know, Sam. it just wasn’t meant to be. Many of the other younglings were better than I was at things: mastery of the Force, lightsaber combat, they were braver, smarter. And someone has to do what I do… and I enjoy it. I like agriculture. I like helping things grow.” “Well, I wouldn’t like it. It doesn’t sound fair that some people get to be Knights and you don’t. Anyway, you were a kid, how is anyone supposed to know what you can do when you’re just a kid?” Koshari wondered about this himself for a while. “We can’t all be Knights, Sam. And maybe it’s better that way.” “Why?” The Jedi thought. “Have you ever played Zocca-Ball?” “Yeah!” “What’s your favorite position to play?” “Goalie.” “Imagine that you had a Zocca team… and this is in the finals, okay? You have a team but everyone is a goalie. How do you think that would be?” “That wouldn’t work. Nobody would score for your team!” Sam looked deeply offended by the mere suggestion of such a team. “Okay, well, what if the team was all strikers?” “Who would stop the goals?!” wailed Sam, horrified. “There you go. A good team needs people to fill there own roles. And everyone’s role is important.” “Maybe.” Koshari noticed that his hand had found its way to his lightsaber. I wonder what that means, he thought. The three swoop-riders converged. They could see the plume of the speeder’s dust ahead of them. According to their sensors there was still a great distance between them and the nearest population cluster. This was wide open country. One by one, the riders prepared their rifles. “Sam, you are sure this is the way to town, correct?” “Yeah, I mean, I think so–” The first rifle bolt sizzled over their heads a second before they heard the thunder-like crack of its report. Koshari, ducking, glanced over his shoulder. He saw three swoops gaining on them fast. “Sam, keep your head down. Can you drive a speeder?” “No!” Another shot rang out, this one passing very close. “Well, you are going to have to learn fast.” Teslo Koshari slid Sam behind the controls of the speeder, and then rolled into the backseat. “Just keep her straight, Sam.” “Okay,” came a squeak from the front. The Jedi tried to calm his heart-rate. His lightsaber ignited with a familiar crack-hiss. Behind the speeder, the swoop-riders fanned out. They all took aim. Koshari didn’t have time to worry about whether he remembered any of his lightsaber training. The bolts came in fast and with deadly accuracy. Without thinking he deflected each away from his body and the speeder, sending them sparking harmlessly into the sand. He stood, half-crouched, in the speeder’s backseat, facing his opponents, but he couldn’t think of how to bring the battle to them without getting himself or Sam killed. At the moment, he would need to deflect blaster bolts until he thought of something. The two wingmen sped their bikes forward. Now he had an enemy to his left and right as well as one directly in front of him. Beneath the heavy sand-masks and goggles, under the layers of robes and wrappings, Koshari could feel his enemies’ amusement and it chilled him to the core. Just then, Sam shouted something from the front seat that sounded like , “UH OH!” Koshari had just blocked two blaster shots and spun around to see a ravine spreading out across the desert floor in front of them. He groaned. Sam tried to turn the speeder but it was too late. The vehicle began to skid and dropped into the ravine — followed by one of the swoops. Sam clung to the controls and Koshari clung to Sam and the speeder, as they bumped and bounced their way into the rocky course of some long dead river. The swoop and its rider were not as fortunate as the Jedi and the boy. The bike toppled and then flipped over, crushing its occupant before exploding. The dead biker’s companions slowed at the lip of the ravine and then split off in two directions — the first following parallel to the speeder below. Koshari pried Sam’s fingers off the wheel and took control of the speeder as he tried to maneuver around outcroppings of rock. A shot from above along the ravine’s wall reminded him of the deadly nature of this game, and he pressed the accelerator as far as it would go. Sam sat wide-eyed beside him, too stunned to breath, as they would slip past one fatal collision after the other with barely inches to spare. The speeder wove back and forth through the ravine at lightning speed, avoiding both blaster-fire and natural impediments. The rider looked ahead down the ravine and what he saw from his raised vantage point caused him to smile beneath his mask. “Look out!” Sam’s cry did not penetrate the look of absolute concentration on Koshari’s face. The old wooden sign crashed harmlessly off the left-side bumper of the speeder. Sam had been able to read the words “DANGER DO NOT” before it had been destroyed. Up ahead he saw another sign, and his brain registered its message only after the speeder had smashed through it. “CONDEMNED MINE: DO NOT ENTER!” The boy looked up and screamed. They were rapidly running out of ravine. The canyon wall approached at a frightening speed — and just when he thought he would be joining his parents, the speeder shot right into a small tunnel entrance in the rock face and everything went black. The rider watched as they sped into the mine. He braked his swoop and waited. They were trapped. Either they would come out now, or he would have to go in after them. In the distance he saw a cloud of dust rising from farther down in the ravine — his partner must have found a safe way down. Good. This hunt would be over soon. Below the hum of the speeder faded and then began to grow louder again. Suddenly, the speeder shot backwards out of the mouth of the mine. The Jedi was driving it in reverse. The rider almost laughed at the ridiculousness of it all but then he looked more closely… Sam was screaming and covering his head with his hands. Koshari was half-spun in his seat trying to drive backwards with one hand, and then, like a geyser, a writhing mass of creatures erupted from the mine. The things had many legs and eyes, and two very deadly looking fangs. They galloped at high-speeds, stepping over each other in a race to regain the speeder that had the effrontery to disturb the tranquility of their nest. The ravine grew black with the swell of the vile things, and the swoop rider backed away from the ravine’s edge as the beasts began to scramble up the rock. Below Koshari saw that the third swoop-rider had made it into the ravine and was bearing down quick upon them. Unfortunately for the rider, his attention was completely fixed on the speeder and he only noticed the horror behind it when it was too late. He tried to brake but began to skid. The speeder reversed past him — Sam saw himself reflected in the biker’s goggles in the instant before the biker slammed into the roiling nest of brood-spiders. It was as if a huge dark wave had engulfed the rider and his swoop, and the boy had to look away as the unlucky man was torn limb from limb — the creatures delighting in the explosion of blood and gore. Though they devoured the swoop rider, the spiders did not stop. It had given Koshari the time and the space to spin the speeder and once-more it drove forward, but the ravine was becoming narrower and narrower. The Jedi knew it was only a matter of time before they were overtaken. He had decided that he would finish Sam off with his own lightsaber rather than let those things rend him into screaming and still-living pieces. Suddenly, a shadow fell over the ravine. Same looked up and above them, where the sun had been, was now blackness — and then came the voice. “Grab the ladder!” The words, amplified through the speaker systems of a ship echoed against the rock. Koshari saw that flying just above them was the sprayer-ship and dangling from it was an escape ladder. Steadying the wheel with one hand he grabbed the ladder in the other. “Sam, grab this and hold on as tight as you can!” “But…” The Jedi took a firm hold of the boy and then, abandoning the controls of the speeder, pulled himself up onto the ladder. No sooner had he done so then the ladder began to rise and the ship drew away from the ravine. Below the speeder collided with a rock column and burst into a miniature nova of flame and debris. The ravine itself was black and thick with the angry forms of thousands of the brood-spiders, hissing and spitting their venom in rage. Far away, now, the last swoop-rider watched as his prey was lifted heavenward and disappeared from his reach. November 14, 2011 | Categories: An Unexceptional Jedi | Leave a comment

An Unexceptional Jedi: Chapter III Chapter III Teslo Koshari, Jedi and proud member of the Service Corps (Third Agricultural Division), collapsed panting beside Sam on the cold deck of the sprayer-ship as the escape hatch closed beside him. Climbing up free-hanging ladders while moving at high speeds was more difficult than the holovids would have one believe. Sam groaned. “I… am… gonna… hurl!” Before the boy could make good on his threat, a bulkhead door slid open and an imposing figure in a full hazard suit entered the bay. It stared at them silently for a few seconds before reaching up and detaching its helmet with a hiss of pressurized gas. Koshari and Sam watched in trepidation as the ominous helmet lifted to reveal the face of — an anti-climatically normal sort of young woman. The two castaways sighed with a mix a relief and disappointment. “Hello, my name is Teslo Koshari–” She cut him off with a gesture of her gloved hand. “Are you a @#$%ing lunatic?!” Sam rose to his friend’s defense immediately. “No! He’s a @#$%ing Jedi!” “Sam!” The boy could take no more and sat down on the floor bursting into hot and angry tears. The two adults stared awkwardly at him for a moment and then tried their best to ignore it. “Captain, this boy and I were trying to reach the nearest town when we were attacked by three marauders. It was not our intention to make a sight-seeing tour of the local ravines while pursued by man-eating spider-beasts. In fact, it was most retrograde to our desires!” The woman looked at him. “‘Retrograde’, huh?” “My friend here, Sam, has suffered a loss recently.” Koshari tried to convey an level of emphasis on this point through the use of eyebrow movements but his nonverbal overture went unremarked. “We are traveling together and I must get a message to the Jedi Temple. I need to report a crash of one of our research fliers.” “Why am I not surprised that someone who would drive backwards down Dead River Ravine would also crash a flier?” “I did not crash it, and two of my colleagues are dead. This is an emergency. May I use your radio?” “Come with me. My name’s Ash, by the way.” A quarter of an hour later, Koshari leaned back in the co-pilot’s chair and closed the subspace channel. His call to the Temple had been routed through at least two transmission points and the quality of the reception had suffered — however, there was no question about Koshari’s new directive: Await further instructions. He had explained everything as best he could… The research flier had been engaged in routine soil testing. They had stopped off to check a malfunctioning weather-gauge and to refuel at a local industrial plant. The gauge seemed to be working fine. They departed to continue their inspections when something went wrong with Koshari’s colleagues, Maris Studi and Teleg Orr, in the cockpit. They had summoned him over the com from the lab, and when he arrived they were both convulsing and seemed gravely ill. At this point, Studi began to seizure and somehow autopilot was disengaged. Koshari was unsure how long he was unconscious but when he awoke it was evident they had crashed. Both Studi and Orr were dead. He assumed his survival was based in part on the protection of the extreme-enviro-suit he was wearing. Shortly after regaining consciousness he too felt the beginnings of a sickness. He began to hallucinate and it seems he wandered away from the crash site. Thankfully, the Force led him through the arid landscape to an inhabited homestead at which time he met a boy named Sam who had recently lost his father to a fever. After the radio went silent, the sprayer-captain, Ash, turned to him with a scowl. “You mean I’ve let two ‘plague rats’ aboard? Great.” “Neither of us are sick. I’m sure there is nothing to worry about.” “Oh, that’s easy for you to say. Jedi probably have health insurance!” Koshari climbed out of the cockpit towards the crew quarters. Sam was lying in a bunk staring at the flickering track lights. The Jedi sat down across from him. “Tired?” “Yeah,” said Sam. “Would you like to take a nap? We won’t be to town for a little while.” “Can’t fall asleep.” “Why not?” “Dunno. Too many thoughts.” The boy turned to face the Jedi. “Do you know any stories?” Koshari searched his memory for a few seconds. “Not many, I’m afraid.” “No Jedi stories?” “Hmmm. I remember a story one of the Masters used to tell us as younglings. It’s not a Jedi story though, it was about a Sith.” “Cool. Let’s hear it.” Koshari cleared his throat. “A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, lived a powerful Sith lord and his name was Darth Sippy-Cup.” “Darth Sippy-Cup?! That story’s for babies! Do I look like I’m five?!” “I’m sorry. I didn’t know I was telling a story to such a sensitive critic.” For a minute they were silent, and then Sam asked, “So are you going to tell the story or what?” “His lightsaber was red, and so it is said, he would jump on his bed with a bowl on his head…” When the intercom buzzed, Sam was lying asleep in the bunk and Darth Sippy-Cup had been sent to bed without dinner for the third time. “Yes?” “Your orders have come through. We’ve been quarantined. Thanks, @#$%^&*.” * * * As soon as they disembarked the sprayer-ship at the Fed base they were met by a team of droids and men in enviro-suits. A medical model stepped forward. “Please, follow me. Kindly cough and sneeze into your upper sleeve if the need arises. Thank you.” Sam looked for his upper sleeves. Ash sighed. Koshari followed. As they walked along empty tunnels to the secure bunker the droid seemed happy to tell them about the dangerous nature of the latest plague pandemic of which they were assumed to be carriers. “Just yesterday it was declared a system-wide health disaster. Travel in and out of the planet is being strictly regulated. Two deaths have been reported at a nearby spaceport.” “Great,” muttered Ash and shot Koshari a look — which the Jedi was confused to find he did not mind. On some level, he decided, he even enjoyed the attention. This would require introspection at a later time. These thoughts caused him to miss an important anecdote about the creation and preparation of the new vaccine. It had been rushed off the production lines and was felt to be the only thing keeping the system back from total panic. “You are fortunate. You shall be some of the first to receive the vaccination.” “So you can see if we die?” asked Ash. “I do not believe so. However, should you feel death imminent, please, let us know. Also, do not spread your sputum.” The droid led them into a well-lit room. Koshari nodded to the two troopers in bio-gear that flanked the door. They did not nod back. The door sealed shut behind them. “You will be required to stay within this facility for no less than fourteen days, beginning six minutes after the moment of vaccination.” “Two weeks?!” “Fourteen days.” The droid turned to Sam. “Please, seat yourself upon the table and kindly lift your sleeve.” As the boy climbed up onto the observation table the droid prepared a hypo-stin, which Koshari assumed was the vaccination shot. “Is this going to hurt?” “You will not feel pain. Some have reported discomfort or itching. You may experience a feeling of warmth.” “I don’t think I want this shot.” “You must be vaccinated, sir.” The droid approached Sam as Koshari and Ash watched. The boy turned pale with terror and did not lift his sleeve. “Kindly lift your sleeve, sir.” “No.” The droid began to lift Sam’s sleeve but the boy slapped him away. “No! I don’t wanna!” He began to cry. Koshari put a hand on the droid. “Here, why not give me the shot first? Sam, watch how easy this is.” The Jedi began to roll up his sleeve. “You’ll see that there’s nothing to it.” “As you suggest, sir.” The droid approached Koshari and raised the hypo-stin to his arm… And then something very fast happened and the hypo-stin was on the floor. Ash goggled at Koshari, and Sam stared at him with his mouth hanging. “Did you just knock that out of his hand?” Koshari look at the droid’s pincer which was now opening and closing in confusion, and then at the hypo-stin on the ground. “Err… Yes. I believe I did. I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me. Please, let us continue.” The droid returned with a new vaccination shot and waited once more for Koshari to roll up his sleeve. “Sir, please do not move this time.” The hypo-stin was just above Koshari’s skin when throughout all of his being he felt an complete and certain “wrongness.” Without thinking, he once more slapped the vaccination from the droid’s hand — only this time he knew it was not an accident. The Force was trying to tell him something. He could not allow himself or his companions to be injected with anything here. “I’m sorry. We need to go now.” The droid processed this. “You may not leave. You are under a quarantine.” Koshari ignited his lightsaber. “You may consider this a ‘self-discharge against advisement’.” Sam smiled. “I told you he was a @#$%ing Jedi.” November 13, 2011 | Categories: An Unexceptional Jedi | Leave a comment

An Unexceptional Jedi: Chapter IV Chapter IV The medical droid did not have much in the way of negotiation programming — certainly not enough to deal with an obstinate lightsaber-wielding Jedi that wished to break his quarantine. “Sir, if you will only allow me to give you your vaccination shot I shall reward you with a lollipop. You may choose from three flavors–” Koshari held a finger to his lips suggesting silence and then he opened the door. The two sentry troopers turned to stare at him. He smiled and the door closed again with a whooosh. “Well, that’s bad.” Ash could contain herself no longer. “What are you doing?! You really are crazy, aren’t you?” “I promise I’m not crazy. There is something wrong here. I feel it in the Force — that vaccine is… not right. We need to leave here immediately.” “But–” He looked into her eyes. “Please… trust me.” Ash turned away but said nothing. Koshari stabbed his lightsaber into the doorplate, causing it to short. The medical droid fidgeted in the center of the room as the Jedi began pushing the observation table in front of the door. “For the record, are you refusing the offer of lollipops and insisting on breaking your quarantine?” “It would seem so.” Koshari drove his lightsaber into the floor and cut a large circular hole. The droid raised its probes in despair. “Then I have no choice…” Suddenly, alarms began to wail and lights flashed. “Assist me! Assist me!” came the amplified screech of the droid. A second later there was a pounding on the other side of the broken door. “Time to go. Ladies first.” Koshari lowered Ash down to the room below and then tried to do the same with Sam. “But we didn’t even find out what flavor lollipops,” complained the boy as his head disappeared into the hole. The Jedi himself then sat at the rim of the hole. “I do apologize for all this.” He dropped down as the first blaster bolt hit the door. On the floor below, the laundry staff watched with shock as a third person jumped down from the hole that had just been cut in the ceiling of their break room. A Rodian turned to his Klatooinian colleague and asked, “Do you think this has something to do with the alarms?” “Probably.” “Should we report it?” “We’re not on the clock for another five minutes.” The Rodian nodded and turned back to his soap opera. Three winding hallways later, Ash and Sam stopped to catch their breath. “Where… are…. we…. going?” Ash asked, panting. “Koshari examined an In Case of Emergency map on the wall. “I’m working on that.” At the end of the far hall, a turbolift opened and ten troopers came pouring out. “You’d better work fast!” “This way!” Koshari scooped Sam up in his arms and began to run down a side-hall. Ash followed. In a distance a trooper yelled, “There they go!” The Jedi ran, made a left, then a right, sprinted, and turned the corner to find — a dead end. Ash skidded to a halt behind him. “Great! Just great!” Sam looked at Koshari. “Are you going to kill all those troopers?” “I don’t think so.” The sound of twenty boots echoing in the halls grew louder. “Oh, just give me your light-sword!” Ash held out her hand. “Lightsaber,” Koshari corrected. “Whatever.” She took the lightsaber from him and neatly sliced the covering off a wall-vent. “Okay, Sam, in we go.” She passed Koshari the blade and then climbed into the shaft with the boy. As she disappeared the Jedi heard her grumble, “This better not lead to the incinerator.” Just then the troopers rounded the corner and turned, in formation, to face the lone Jedi. Koshari closed his eyes and began to swing his lightsaber, weaving it the air around his body as if it was a pure ribbon of light. The weapon spun in ever-decreasing intricate arcs, dancing hypnotically, its glow reflected upon the cold black of the trooper’s visors. Koshari broke off this display of martial prowess and said, “That was a technique called Sespiron Phase VII. Now… which one of you wants to die first?” The troopers stared at him for a second and then simultaneously raised their weapons. Koshari dived into the ventilator shaft as they fired. Ash and Sam listened as the rumbling in the vent grew closer and then stepped back as Koshari slid out of the wall at great speed, crashing into the pile of discarded boxes. The Jedi rolled and began slapping at his robes, which were smoldering. “They are using flame-throwers! Flame-throwers! What are they thinking… Where are we?” Sam ran over to help him put out his smoking pants. “I think we’re in a trash compactor! This is so cool! I saw a holovid where this happened.” Ash returned to working on the doorplate, which Koshari realized had been pried from its socket. She twisted two small wires together producing a very big spark, and the door opened with an irritating creak. “Wow! Did you crack the door?” asked Sam in awe. Ash blushed and didn’t meet their eyes. “Just something I learned in trade school. Let’s go.” The three left the compactor room, Koshari scouting ahead and Sam wondering aloud how he could apply to trade school. Out in the loading bay a worker-droid had just finished applying the last coat of body paint to the Fed pursuit-skimmer. It hovered back a few feet to admire its work and emitted a series of satisfied beeps. Turning, it began to switch out its paint canisters so that it could spray on the yellow racing stripe. It chirruped a little working song for itself, pausing when it heard a sound that reminded it of the skimmer’s cockpit canopy being unlocked. Slowly, it rotated its visual sensors… The pursuit-skimmer sat there, pristine and looking as beautiful as ever. The droid whistled and turned its attention once more to making sure it had mixed the new pigments correctly. A minute later, it sprayed a test patch on its template — a perfect match! The little droid hovered back towards the skimmer and aimed its spray at the ship’s nose. Suddenly, in a burst of ozone, the ion-drive kicked on and the pursuit-skimmer rocketed to life. The droid wailed as the ship flew straight through the line of spray paint leaving a zig-zag streak along its side. Inside the pursuit-skimmer, its pilot, Ash, was unconcerned over the state of the paint job. All she wanted to know was how to get out of this place. Koshari and Sam sat behind her, and after the first barrel-roll both were searching frantically for their seat-belts. “Are you sure you can fly one of these?!” The skimmer handled amazingly. It was responsive and fast — really fast. As the ship screamed down a hangar tunnel, Ash began to wonder if maybe it wasn’t too fast. Then she saw that the hangar bay blast doors that she was rapidly approaching were closed — definitely too fast. Koshari and Sam cried out in terror. Ash activated the targeting reticule and fired at a small console beside the door. When it exploded, the two great blast seals began to pull apart — the skimmer slipped between the now-open space with inches to spare, leaving behind it a trail of vapor and the faint echo of a grown man calling for his mother. November 12, 2011 | Categories: An Unexceptional Jedi | Leave a comment

An Unexceptional Jedi: Chapter V Chapter V The footsteps of the healers echoed as they ran along the halls of the Temple. “Life signs are dropping!” Teslo Koshari slowly opened his aged eyes and then closed them again. Sound came to him as if through water. A face leaned over him, its owner struggling to keep pace with the medi-board as it hovered towards the emergency wing. “Koshari! Can you hear me?! Just hold on for us a little longer. Can you hear me?” No, he wanted to tell the man, I can’t hear you. “I can’t hear you.” The sound of his own voice jolted Koshari awake. He must have dozed off, face pressed against the cockpit glass of the skimmer. Ash gave him a quizzical glance and then returned her attention to the controls. “That’s probably because I didn’t say anything.” “I must have been dreaming.” He craned his neck and saw Sam asleep across the spare seat. “It was a strange dream too. Do you ever dream about being old?” Ash laughed. “Yeah, and it came true too!” “Oh, you’re not old. You’re actually quite…” Koshari’s face colored slightly. She turned to look at him. “Yes?” she asked expectantly. “Quite… young-looking. Youthful.” Ash laughed again, and Koshari found himself admiring the way her nose crinkled when she did so. It was a nice laugh. “‘Youthful’, huh?” “Quite.” The skimmer touched down, creating miniature tornadoes in the dust. Koshari helped Sam climb from the cockpit and then they both stood and examined the house. It was a plain brown clay, but colorful stones had been placed throughout the wall, and somehow, as the sun set, the house caught the last few rays and seemed to sparkle invitingly. Behind them, Ash shut down the engine. “It belongs to one of my blood-cousins. She’s making the pilgrimage to the poles with her family. I told her I’d look in on it.” Inside, the furniture was simple and well-used. Holos of the family at work and play were arranged on almost every flat surface. Koshari noticed a child’s shoe protruding from under the couch. Here and there were toys, forgotten and abandoned in mid-play. It felt to him as if the place had been full of life only a moment before, and waited politely for them to move along so that it could get back to its usual joyful and noisy existence. He looked at Sam wandering the rooms trying to decide whether he liked it, and Ash checking the level of supplies in the kitchen, and he wondered if this was what it would be like to have a family. The Jedi sighed a sigh which became a chuckle. “What is it?” “Nothing, Sam. I was just thinking of something I was told when I was your age: A Jedi’s home is the Force. A Jedi’s family is the Force. A Jedi’s life is the Force.” Sam pondered this for a moment. “It sounds kinda lonely.” Koshari wondered about that himself. “Will the Force ever die?” “No, Sam. The Force will outlive all of us.” The boy nodded and lost himself in his own somber thoughts. When Ash came in she sensed the strange silence in the room and decided to ignore it. “We’ve got enough to last us a few days. You’re sure it wouldn’t be better if you just stayed here?” “No. I must try to make contact with the Order again. Give me two days. If you don’t hear from me you will know I’ve been taken and you’ll need to go to ground like we discussed.” Ash nodded. They saw the Jedi to the skimmer. “Sure you can handle that thing?” “Not as well as you, but I will do my best.” “That sounds like a slogan: Jedi — We do our best!” They all laughed, and Koshari began to pull the cockpit canopy down. “Be careful.” “I will be. May the Force be with you both.” Ash felt Sam’s restlessness and put her arms around the boy to prevent him from doing anything silly. The skimmer lifted off and Koshari looked down on the woman and the boy standing in front of that friendly house. It looked so domestic and so far away. When he was gone, Sam turned to Ash and asked, “What does ‘go to ground’ mean?” “It means hide.” Sam nodded. “I buried my dad in the ground. I wondered if it had to do with that. Both of us had buried my mom. That was a while ago though. Sometimes I think the ground is gonna swallow me up too.” Ash ran her fingers through his hair. “Baby, nothing is ever gonna swallow you up. You’ve got me and a boneheaded Jedi looking after you now.” “Yeah. I guess.” * * * Jedi Teslo Koshari was not in the Order’s good graces just now. He had disobeyed direct orders, stolen a FED pursuit skimmer, broken a quarantine, and potentially released two other plague carriers into the general population. Still, they agreed to meet with him and on his terms. Perhaps the upper echelons felt this was the most discrete way to end this embarrassing fiasco. Koshari circled the crash site twice, running the skimmer’s full scanner array. The sensors registered one ship and one life form. He decided on a third sweep. You can never be too careful. As he prepared to land, the ship’s emergency toolbox caught his eye and he smiled. On the ground stood a man. As the ship settled down, he moved very slowly towards it. Koshari felt ripples of the Force extending over his entire being. They had sent a Jedi Knight. “Stand back.” Koshari slid down from the cockpit and onto the sand. “My name is Ornann. I assume you are Teslo Koshari.” “I am. Come no closer.” Koshari held out a hand towards him and Ornann stopped a few feet away. “Where are the other two?” “In a safe place.” “You understand that you are risking spreading the plague, don’t you? You are endangering the lives of countless innocent people by doing this.” “We don’t have the plague.” “Are you a doctor now too? Or did they teach you these things at farm school? The Temple wants you all to come back in. You will come back with me and you will give us their location.” Koshari looked over the wreckage that surrounded them. It was the scene of his own crash in a research flier. He had lost two friends in that accident and this entire strange adventure had started here. “Aren’t you afraid I might give you the plague too?” “No. I had the vaccination this morning.” Koshari turned to look at Ornann, practically for the first time. The Knight was muscular, confident, probably battle-trained — must be to have reached knighthood. He seemed honest. “How did it feel to you?” “What do you mean? I didn’t feel anything. It was a hypo-stin shot.” “No, I mean how did you feel before the shot? Did you feel anything strange?” Ornann tightened his heroic jaw. “Of course I felt slightly apprehensive. Some of it is just natural nerves.” “And the rest? Did you feel anything from the Force?” “I sensed some danger but that is to be expected. I was about to be injected with a vaccine. The plague in it may have been dormant, but still, the Force doesn’t know the difference.” “I felt the same thing! It felt wrong!” Ornann looked exasperated. “The Force isn’t magical! It doesn’t tell us everything. We need to use our reason to interpret what the Force is trying to tell us. Mastery of the Force involves knowing when to listen to our instincts and when to override them.” “I disagree. There was something wrong with the vaccine. Something wrong with the entire thing. I sensed it!” Even the Knight’s derisive laughter seemed fairly likable and noble. “I’m sorry, Koshari. I’ve read your files. There is a reason you were sent to the farms. Your ability to ‘sense’ anything is on the same level as a Tandorian rain slug’s ability to jump to hyperspace. You didn’t sense anything. I have told you that I saw nothing wrong with receiving the vaccination. The Order has felt nothing regarding this ‘wrongness’ you are talking about. Are you trying to tell me that you know better than everyone else? Did you suddenly become the galaxy’s most powerful Jedi?!” “No–” “Look,” Ornann cut him off. “You were in this crash. The fact that you chose it for our rendezvous shows that it still weighs on your mind. Two people died and you survived. You were probably also suffering from a milder form of the plague and exposure too. You aren’t thinking correctly!” “What did you find here in the wreckage?” Ornann didn’t seem to approve of this change of subject, but shrugged and answered, “Not much. The bodies were badly burnt. It had been partially scavenged too. Some swoop tracks… leading off into the wastes.” “I don’t remember the bodies burning. I remember them–” “Enough! We are wandering from the point. This fantasy… this game is at an end. You are a Jedi, and I am commanding you, on behalf of the Temple and the Order to cooperate with me now.” Ornann watched as Koshari drew his hands from beneath his robes. In one he held a small metallic cylinder. “If I refuse?” “Don’t be a fool, farmer.” Ornann didn’t even bother igniting his own lightsaber. He quickly reached through the Force and tore the weapon out of Koshari’s hand, sending it flying into the dust. Unexpectedly, at the same moment, Koshari closed the distance between himself and the Jedi Knight, and a long blue blade of pure light blazed out of his other hand and stopped just an inch away from Ornann’s throat. Ornann stared in shock. “How?” The Knight glanced down at what he had assumed was Koshari’s lightsaber where it lay on the ground. Only now did his eyes register that it was nothing more dangerous than a psiono-spanner. “Please don’t move, Ornann. I can’t help but kill you at this range… even a farmer gets lucky sometimes.” Taking the Knight’s own lightsaber, Koshari ignited it and threw it blade-first into the control panel of Ornann’s speeder. “The radio should be intact. Let the Temple know they will need to pick you up. I will be in touch with them again.” “Koshari, you are losing your grip, man! Do you think you’re the first this has happened to? Lots of good people in the Service Corps get… confused sometimes. They burn out or, like you, they get a jolt and it upsets them. Think about it! You need help!” “No. There are two people that need my help. And it looks like I’m the only one that is going to protect them.” Koshari climbed into the Skimmer and closed the canopy. Through the protective duroglass he could hear Ornann’s shouts. “Are you doing this for them or because you finally have a chance to play the Jedi Knight?!” * * * It was night when Koshari reached the little house. He settled the skimmer down and noticed that no lights were on. Probably they had gone to sleep. After all, they most both be exhausted. As he walked to the door he was once again disappointed with how lost he was. His only gambit had failed. Somehow he needed to keep Ash and Sam safe while at the same time getting to the bottom of this plague mystery. There were also his ties to the Jedi order to consider. He would be surprised if he was even considered a Jedi now. The only thing which made this thought at all bearable was how he imagined Ornann must look explaining to his superiors how a lowly farmer beat him in single combat. That was a very un-Jedi thought. But it was one that kept him smiling as he entered the house. Inside, everything was very still. Koshari moved towards the kitchen. “Ash?” he whispered, not wishing to awaken Sam. No response. He activated the light pad and the room was bathed in a dim glow. At the end of the table sat a figure in tattered black robes pointing a laser carbine at Koshari’s chest. Koshari thought about drawing his lightsaber, but, as if anticipating his thoughts, the figure shook its head. The Jedi recognized the reflective surface of the face mask the intruder wore — the swoop rider. “Where are they?” The Rider pointed to Koshari’s lightsaber. The Jedi unhooked it and rolled it across the table. “Have they been hurt?” No, came a shake of the Rider’s head. The dark figure rose and gestured for Koshari to lead the way out of the room. As soon as he turned, the butt of the laser carbine came crashing down on the back of his skull sending him into the blackness of dreams. A few minutes later a small ship lifted off from behind the house. Inside, the lightsaber lay on the table, looking for all the world like just another discarded child’s toy. In his sleep, Ornann’s words echoed through Koshari’s mind. November 10, 2011 | Categories: An Unexceptional Jedi | Leave a comment