“What have I taught you?”

“I’m sorry, Pere?” Ainam asked, looking up from the holocron he held in his hands.

“What have I taught you?” Zark repeated, louder this time, “About the Force?”

“You have taught me many things, Pere Askrima,” Ainam furrowed his brow, obviously confused, “How to manipulate the Force telekinetically, how to use it to enhance lightsaber combat, how to-”

“None of that, none of that,” Zark cut him off sharply, “I mean, what have I taught you about the Force? As an entity, as a state of being?”

“Hmm,” Ainam paused at this, taking the time to muse to himself, “You have taught me that the Force is an energy source. It is all around us, it penetrates us, envelops us. It guides us, and controls us to some extent, yet we also control it-”

“None of that either,” Zark waved his hand absently, “What is it? Where did it come from? What is its purpose?”

“I’m afraid…” Ainam’s voice was almost strained, embarrassed even, “I’m afraid you have not taught me anything about that, Pere. At least, not that I can remember…”

“Relax, student,” Zark chided slightly, smiling a rare, true smile, “I have not, in fact, taught you anything about the subject.”

“If I may ask, Pere-“

“Never ask to ask, just ask,” Zark could almost envision himself wagging his finger.

“Yes, Pere,” Ainam bowed slightly, “If you knew the answer to the question, why did you ask it?”

“A good question, student Ainam,” Zark nodded to himself as much as the Noghri, “The answer is, to open your mind to the subject. If you are searching your memory for knowledge of a subject, you will be more…eager, shall we say, to receive the knowledge I’m about to bestow upon you to fill in the blanks that currently rest there.”

“I see.”

Zark doubted he did, and smiled on the inside. As hard as he might try, Ainam would never be a teacher. His place was on the battlefield, and it was Zark’s job to make sure what the warrior fought for was just and good. Still, it didn’t hurt to try. After all, Zark had once been much like Ainam, and here he was. Of course, he had gone through a death and a body change to get here, but here he was all the same.

As to where he was, it was, quite simply a ship. Zark had no idea how old the ship was, but it had been with the Jedi for a while. In fact, he had possessed the ship ever since his…brief foray into the darkness. Zark no longer remembered how he got the ship, and doubted that he wanted to, but he had no other means of transportation. Still, it would never hold any comfort to him. Only dark reminders. He had named it the Temptation, and longed to be rid of it.

Zark had quite a ways to go yet before he could. But it was not the end of his journey he was concerned about. No…

“The Force is beautiful, Ainam,” Zark said at last, “I cannot remember but a few blurs from my eternity spent as a part of it, but one fact remains a constant. It is beautiful.”

“I long to see it, Pere Askrima,” Ainam whispered, his eyes misty.

“You are not near that portion of your journey yet, student Ainam,” Zark said, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly, “You have quite a long lifetime ahead of you, and becoming one with the Force is something one should do only after they have lived a full, happy life. There is no going back. I may be an exception to that rule, but believe me; my exception is one in a trillion, more even. And I thank the Force every day for my second chance.”

“Yes, Pere Askrima,” Ainam nodded in almost reverence.

“The Force is beautiful, Ainam, but it is not perfect,” Zark’s tone took a harsher quality, “Nor is it just, at least, not in our narrow perspective on things. Do not give me that stare, what I speak is truth, at least, from what I have learned. It cares not for galactic affairs. It cares not for the New Order, it cares not for the Galactic Coalition; Just as it didn’t care for the Empire or the Republics. As with all things, the only thing the Force truly cares about is self-preservation.”

“Pere Askrima!” Ainam’s expression was startled, mortified, “I cannot…I…is this some sort of test?!”

“It is no test, Ainam,” Zark held out his hand, halting the Noghri as he attempted to stand up, “For the longest time I have been your teacher. Will you hear what I have to say?”

“…yes, Pere Askrima.”

“My description of the Force may seem…harsh, to you,” Zark said, “But that is only because you make it seem harsh. The concepts of empathy and apathy are foreign to the Force. It has no use of them. They were created by sentient beings, and are foolishly used by sentient beings, to the end of all things. Believe it or not, to the Force there is no good or evil. No right or wrong. There are only two things.

Light and Dark.

Without these two bases, the Force cannot survive. Understand, Ainam, try to understand, that the Force needs the Sith just as much as it needs the Jedi. By using the power of the Force, by seeking guidance from the Force, we are keeping it alive. The Force needs both the Lightside and the Darkside to be used at the same time in order to keep itself alive.”

“Pere Askrima, I believe I understand a little more clearly now, but…” Ainam trailed off, his expression confused and still a little hurt, “Are you saying that the Force wants the Jedi and the Sith to fight each other? It wants a struggle between the Light and Dark?”

“No, Ainam. It wants none of that,” Zark smiled grimly to himself, shaking his head, “The Lightside and the Darkside were never designed to be mortal enemies. The Sith were not supposed to be our bitter rivals. We made it that way. The Jedi could not accept the use of such negative emotions as an alternate to the benevolence of the Lightside.

The Darkside, believe it or not, never started out as a pathway to evil. It did not begin as a road that would ultimately lead to a lust for conquest and power. It just involved using different emotions in order to harness the power of the Force. But over time…through all the years of Sith subjugation at the hands of the Jedi…the Sith used hatred to power themselves, and the Jedi had provided them the easiest thing to hate…the Light.

As the Sith grew to hate and despise the Lightside and all it represented, so too did the Darkside. Every single Darkside user grew to hate the Light, so the Darkside itself changed to better suit them. To better attract them. It was all about self preservation.”

“The Force wanted the Sith to use the Darkside,” Ainam murmured, “So they changed the Darkside to reel them in. And in doing so…”

“The Force brought about millions of years of bloody war,” Zark finished for him, “As terrible as that may sound, I must stress to you that it was not the Force’s fault. The concept of Lightside against Darkside held no meaning for it. It did not understand the rivalry, or the concept of rivalry in general. Likely, if it wanted to, it could understand that rivalry, and maybe stop it once and for all. But how to make it want to? Impossible.

No, the only ones we can blame are ourselves. It is the Jedi’s fault for not accepting the Sith. It is the Sith’s fault for morphing the Darkside into the twisted, cruel thing it has become. The war between the Jedi and the Sith is the ultimate failure of Force users, and we are paying the price for it.”

“I understand, Pere Askrima,” Ainam nodded, the look of hurt gone now from his face, “But…it is still hard to grasp the concept of the Force not caring, even if it doesn’t know how. It cares nothing for any of us? Nothing for the Jedi? Or even the Sith? Nothing for the universe?”

“After all you have seen, and you still do not understand…” Zark chuckled morbidly, “The Force is the universe, Ainam. It is the life force of the universe. The Force is what created us, what brought us into this universe, into its body. And when we die…we shall become a part of its mind. So yes, it cares for the universe. And it cares for all Force users, as they are what keep it alive, what keeps the universe alive. Without the Force…

Without the Force, Ainam, I do not believe the universe would survive.”

And for the first time in what seemed like forever, there was silence between the two. Ainam, no doubt, was still processing the sudden and terrible new information he had received. Zark was also deep in thought, half-meditating. The Jedi had supreme confidence that all of what he had told his apprentice was true, but that did not make it easy…

“Thank you, Pere Askrima,” Ainam said at last.

“I’m sorry?” Zark’s eyes widened ever so slightly, tilting his head around a few inches to look at Ainam out of the corner of his eye.

“You did not have to tell me all of this,” Ainam elaborated, “You did not have to tell me the truth. You could’ve kept me in the dark for my entire life, have me believe that the Force was as benevolent and caring as any Jedi, and fully supportive of our cause. You did not. Thank you.”

Zark smiled.

“You are most welcome, Ainam,” he said, “Now prepare yourself. We will be making the jump to hyperspace soon.”

“To where do we journey, Pere Askrima?”

“Your time with me has almost come to an end, student,” Zark turned to fully face him, “I have taught you everything you need to know to become a true Jedi. Knowledge of the truth...knowledge of the Force was your last lesson. Now, there is but one more thing to be done before you may call yourself a Jedi Knight.”

“What is that, Pere Askrima?” Ainam’s eyes showed the slightest hint of excitement.

“When I was training to become a Jedi…during better times…” Zark winced, remembering, “It was customary at some point during the Padawan’s training to visit a place of great evil in the Force. Padawans were to be brought to an area in which the Darkside had been so strong in the area that it left a part of itself even after those who brought it had died or gone. The Padawan then would have to face his or her greatest fear, and overcome it.

If they succeeded, the date of their Trials would be fast approaching.

I believe this system to be useful in measuring the Padawan’s progress in their training. But ultimately, I believe this system to be flawed. To expose a Jedi to that much Darkside not of their own free will, but because they trust you, is highly dangerous. And the possibilities if they do not overcome their fears are…terrifying. No, that is not your path. I have the utmost confidence in your readiness for becoming a Jedi Knight, but a pilgrimage must be made.

Now strap yourself in and get comfortable. It’s a long way to Naboo.”

Yes, I know you’re hear to learn about your father, but the question is, do you really want to know?

Do you want to know?

DO YOU?

Do you want to know?

WHO SENT YOU?!

WHO SENT YOU.

Who?

WHO?

Who sent you?

Who…

L-Lord Hell...Hellfi-fire...

I will not fear! Fear is the mind-killer! Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration! I will face my fear! I will permit it to pass over me and through me! And when it has gone past me I will turn to see only fear's path! Where the fear has gone there will be nothing! Only I will remain!

NO! I AM THE MASTER!

I am the master…

Fuck you, Darth Hellfire…

Fuck you.

Fuck you, Darth Hellfire.

Fuck you!

We’re going to the most likely place for a Sith to hide out…a church.

A church.

We’re going to a church.

We’re going to the most likely place.

The most likely place for a Sith to hide.

We’re going to a church.

A church.

He wants us to come to him.

He wants us.

Come to him.

He WANTS us.

He wants us to come to him!

I do not aim with my hand; he who aims with his hand has forgotten the face of his father.

I aim with my eye.

I do not shoot with my hand; he who shoots with his hand has forgotten the face of his father.

I shoot with my mind.

I do not kill with my gun; he who kills with his gun has forgotten the face of his father.

I kill with my heart.

Uh, Zark? Who is this guy and why is he bowing at us?

Why is he bowing at us?

Why?

Who is this guy?

WHO?

I am Jeremiah Bettis, and I am a Jedi Master.

Jeremiah Bettis…

I am a Jedi Master…

A Jedi…

I am a Jedi Master.

You think you can use me? You think you can use my parents? All just so you can play your fucking twisted butcher games with these worthless Sith?

USE ME.

USE MY PARENTS.

TWISTED LITTLE BUTCHER GAMES.

WORTHLESS.

Sith…

SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT MY PARENTS!

…Xoverus?

DON’T YOU SAY THAT NAME TO ME, BOY!

AHHHH!

I have won. It looks like that old saying ‘like father, like son’, is true after all.

Like father, like son…

So, are you going to kill me, Zark? That wouldn't be very...honorable, would it?

Are you going to kill me?

Zark?

The duel is over, Xoverus. You won. There is no more honorable combat.

No more.

click

So, you think there is a fucking happy ending for you? YOU THINK YOU CAN GET AWAY WITH WHAT YOU'VE FUCKING DONE?!

BLAM

That was for my mother!

BLAM

That was for my father!

BLAM

That was for me!

BLAM

AND THIS IS FOR ROLAND YOU SON OF A BITCH!

BLAM.

Zark’s eyes opened. He stared up at the plain durasteel above him. He didn’t blink. He didn’t want to blink. If he blinked, some of the images might come back. He didn’t want the images to come back. He was strong. He had proven that over the past few months. He was strong enough to bear a burden impossible to bear.

But he was not that strong.

His stomach churned slightly and he felt the slightest hint of shaking from his bed as the ship left hyperspace. He had woken up just in time. And yet, as he thought about it, Zark realized that he had woken up not nearly soon enough. Sleep never came easy, especially when it came. His dreams would never let him forget…

But he needed sleep. He needed to be fully rested for the events that were to come. This was what he had been training Ainam for almost a year. Not only that, but this would be his first time back in the Jedi Temple since he had…since Heather…this would be his first time in the Temple in a very long time.

It likely wouldn’t help matters much that everyone thought…everyone knew he was dead, and those who had had known what kind of state he had been in when it happened. The reunions would be…awkward, to say the very least. Not violent. Zark knew the Jedi better than that, most certainly not violent. But…cautious…of him, and his Noghri apprentice.

Ainam was guilty by association.

Zark sighed to himself. The sins of the fathers…was he Ainam’s father? Of course he wasn’t, not in a literal sense. But was he just like Ainam’s father? What Ainam’s father should have been? Did the Noghri look up to him as a father? Was he deserving of that reverence?

No, Ainam looked up to Zark as a god. And he most certainly was not deserving of that reverence.

Sighing once more, slowly Zark eased himself out of the bed in his bare quarters. He had not decorated it at all during the years he had owned the ship. He had not seen the point. This ship was not his home, and there was no use in trying to treat it like it was. So the room remained as bare as it had been the day he had…come into possession of the ship.

He did not blink as the door slid open in front of him, even though the burst of light from beyond stung his eyes bitterly. Grumbling silently to himself, he ended the bright rays’ existence with a wave of his hand, shuffling down the hallway. He was almost to the bridge when Ainam decided to make himself known.

“Sleep well, Pere?” the Noghri asked; his voice overly-enthusiastic for a mere greeting.

“You stumbled twice,” Zark responded, not looking back, “But you’re improving.”

“Thank you, Pere,” Ainam bowed in respect, and Zark noticed that in no way was the Noghri’s jovial mood deflated in the slightest by his master’s casual critique of his performance.

“You’ve been to Naboo before,” Zark said.

“Of course, Pere Askrima,” Ainam smiled, “But never with such purpose-”

“You do not view waiting for the one who would usher forth the new golden age of the Lightside as purposeful?” Zark snapped before the Noghri could finish.

“Of…of course not, Pere!” Ainam’s eyes widened, his expression surprised and hurt, “I merely meant-”

“I know what you meant, Ainam,” Zark said softly, closing his eyes for a few seconds before opening them once more, “I am sorry. I have not been sleeping well as of late.”

“Do you ever?” Ainam asked, his tone once again positive but his expression no less concerned, “Perhaps when we land on Naboo you should-”

“No,” Zark cut him off for the third time, “I am fine.”

“…yes, Pere.”

“Was it necessary to dodge port authority, Pere Askrima?” Ainam’s voice called out, his voice betraying his position where his body simply would not, “I was under the impression Naboo was a peaceful planet, not in any way aligned with either the Empire or the Coalition.”

“Lets just say I didn’t exactly want our arrival to be advertised,” Zark replied, grunting as he leapt casually over a fallen tree.

“I don’t understand, are you in any sort of trouble here?” Ainam asked.

“Trouble…” Zark echoed, furrowing his brow, “Trouble…no…I suppose not…”

Could it really be called trouble? Possibly…probably…but somehow Zark knew it wasn’t. Even after all he had done to the Jedi, all of the ‘betrayals’, and even after his role in a Padawan’s death, the Jedi would still forgive and forget as they always did. They would never turn out a Force adept who did not share ideals with the Sith.

Maybe that was their flaw.

Anyone was welcome, any Force adept. The Jedi even accepted those unworthy to bear the title of Padawan, something which had lead to many turns to the Darkside. The Jedi were crippling themselves with their love and openness. It was almost as if, even given everything that had happened to the Order over the years, they were still oblivious to the evils of man.

Did Zark really want that for Ainam? Did he really want his Noghri apprentice to fall victim to the same hopeless Jedi philosophies he had once so adamantly fought in the defense of? Or was the battered and beaten Rogue just trying to pawn off someone he viewed as becoming a bother onto those more willing to deal with him?

No, he was doing the right thing. He had to be doing the right thing. Zark was in no position to be teaching others the way of the Jedi. Ainam had been his full apprentice ever, and the constant lingering doubts of whether or not he had done a proper job of the training, both physical and mental, had been plaguing him for months. There was only one way to make sure, only one way to prevent Ainam from falling to the Darkside as the Noghri’s master had once done.

A certain Jedi owed Zark a thing or two, as did he him.

It had been months, years, maybe more maybe less, since Zark had last laid eyes upon the Jedi Master Silus. Time had become a blur for him once more, as it often had during the Rogue’s lifetime. Days melded into weeks, weeks into months, months into years until nothing really seemed to matter anymore and it was hard to keep track of what day of the week it was.

Zark took a glance back at his apprentice, and winced, wishing he hadn’t. Zark was not only afraid of keeping Ainam on as an apprentice and losing him to the Darkside, but he was afraid of giving him to the Jedi and having such a gift to the Lightside go to waste. Ainam was a warrior. It was obvious in every way imaginable. From the way he spoke to the way he trained to the way he breathed, everything about the Noghri screamed natural born killer.

And here Zark was, handing him over to a bunch of peace loving good-for-nothings.

For the third time in five minutes, Zark prayed that Silus was still an esteemed member of the Jedi Order, and wouldn’t attack him on sight when he saw him. Silus was certainly not the most…gentle of Jedi. In fact, he in no way belonged in the Jedi Temple. Silus was just as much a warrior as Ainam was, maybe even more so, and a raging alcoholic besides the fact. He was not exactly the role model for all Jedi in the galaxy.

Maybe he should be.

How much more effective would the Jedi Order be on a galactic scale if every Jedi was like Silus? Come to think of it, probably not much more, as they’d be too drunk half the time to do much anyway. But discounting the drinking ‘problem’, how much more effective? Considering the effectiveness of the Jedi on a galactic scale at that point in time was somewhere between zero and one, probably much more than usual.

Thoughts drifted, topics switched, scenery passed, and Zark found himself thinking back to the lecture he had given Ainam of the Force before they had begun their journey to Naboo. The lies he had told, and the truths he had told. All of that, he had said for a reason, a pre-thought false sermon. Method to the madness, reason to the irrationality, plans within plans. Zark could only hope he was doing what was right, and there was no cloud in his judgment.

The Rogue glanced back at his apprentice, who was almost completely uninterested in the master who had brought him here. Instead, the Noghri was admiring the scenery; a reaction Zark realized was not unreasonable. The forests of Naboo were some of the most beautiful in the galaxy, and could be an awing sight to someone who had arrived on the planet for the first time.

But to Zark…to Zark the forest of Naboo were something else entirely. So many memories he found here, most of them terrible and horrifying. From his first contact with a Sith and the duel that followed to the first time he had erased the presence of his evil personality from his mind to his possession of Silus.

This was not a place he wanted to make a habit of coming back to regularly.

“We are at the outer limits,” Zark called back softly to Ainam.

“Outer limits of what, exactly?” Ainam asked, but Zark was not paying attention.

He was searching for the telltale end of the tree line that would be coming up any minute now. The forest was so dense in this area that it was hard to see where more than five feet in front of you would lead exactly with much accuracy. It would be coming up soon if he remembered correctly. And almost before he realized it, they passed the threshold…to arrive on the outskirts of Theed, capital of Naboo.

“Oh…” Ainam murmured, “the outer limits of that.”

“Yes, the outer limits of that.”

The city of Theed rivaled all of Coruscant. Where Coruscant had quantity, Theed definitely had quality. The structures were just as majestic as the skyscrapers of the Imperial capital, some even more so with their beautiful and archaic architecture. There was also a complete lack of the sense of being lost in Theed, something all too commonly felt in Coruscant. It was beautiful, and yet…

“Something is not right…” Ainam murmured quietly, and Zark was unsure if it was directed at him specifically, “Something is off.”

“I am glad you noticed it,” Zark smiled. It was another false smile, “You truly have progressed far during your time with me. What you sense in the Jedi Order.”

“The Jedi Order…” Ainam frowned, “But…wouldn’t the Jedi Order be a pure source of lightside energy? They worship the lightside more purely than even we do.”

“I may have…phrased it poorly,” Zark chuckled. A false laugh, “For dramatic effect, I suppose. It is not the Jedi Order, but the Jedi Order’s inactivity, its stagnance. For years now the members of their order have remained locked up inside the Temple, or safely hidden, scattered amongst the populace.

Upholders of truth and justice? Defenders of freedom and equality amongst all sentient beings? Are these truly the Jedi of old? Are these the peacekeepers so many tales have been wrought off, so many poems composed of, so many securities depended on? Not anymore. Are any of them truly Jedi Knights?”

“…I see.”

“The shadows of the Darkside can find root in even the most lighted places in the galaxy,” Zark continued, talking as if to himself rather than Ainam, “No being is ever truly safe from the clutches of the Darkside. The Jedi Order’s inability to react to the Darkness that has spread throughout the galaxy the past few years is a damnable offense. They are not Jedi. They are pitiful creatures, bearing the guise of a once powerful priory.”

“I understand, Pere,” Ainam nodded, his eyes clouded with thought.

“No, you do not,” Zark replied, smiling bitterly, “But you are trying, and that is good. I hope…and I believe, that in time you shall understand.”

“I…” Ainam’s voice took a harsh tone, as if to defend himself, and then he conceded softly, “Yes, Pere.”

“Would you like to know why I never accepted the rank of Master?” Zark asked his pupil, his eyebrows rose slightly in curiosity.

“Because…you were never offered the position?” Ainam asked.

“Well…true,” Zark laughed. A real laugh. His first real laugh in quite some time. Ainam winced and blinked furiously at his tutor, “I was never officially offered the title of Jedi Master. But would you like to know why I wouldn’t accept it, given the choice?”

“Why, Pere Askrima?”

“Because it is a hollow and useless title,” Zark said, “A Jedi Master would I be? Master of what? Master of the Jedi? The Jedi’s only master is the Force. Master of the Force then? Naught can claim such, not even the most powerful Force user that ever lived.

No, Ainam. I am a Jedi Knight, as I always have been. My place is not as a teacher, as a master. You are an exception to that rule, of course. I do not trust anyone to take upon the task of training one such as you. I do not trust myself with such a task, of course, but I trust others even less so.

My place is on the battlefield, something I have not seen in quite some time. What dark times are these when Sith plague the galaxy and yet I have not faced one in months? What dark times are these when the defenders and upholders of truth and justice cannot strike at the enemy of all that is goodly and just not because of weakness nor fault but because of the fleet of warships manned, for the most part, by those devoid of the touch, that stand between us? Am I truly any different from the Jedi down there in the Temple?

It is a question I have asked myself for weeks, perhaps a month. How am I different than them? What have I done to combat the Sith that amounts to more than what they do everyday? And for a while I believed the answer to be nothing. I thought myself to be as corrupt and devoid of the Light as they. And then, one night…well, very early in the morning actually, I realized we were nothing alike.

Where the Jedi had given up, I have remained devoted. Where they have failed, I still seek to succeed. Do you believe that any Jedi down there have any hope of ever reclaiming Coruscant from the New Order and the Sith?”

“No, Pere Askrima,” Ainam replied, “I do not believe so.”

“Neither do I,” Zark nodded, “And, I suspect, that is why you answered so. But I say this to you, Ainam, and I hope you truly listen to this, as you have not done so to aught else I have said: I still have hope. The Sith shall fall, at least as far as they need to in order to regain some measure of justice in the galaxy.

I have hope, Ainam. And I hope you do as well.”

“I have hope, Pere Askrima,” Ainam said, resolutely.

“We shall see,” Zark sighed, “We shall see.

Come, there is much work to be done.”