Spark in the Dark
It's been three days since our escape from Cantonica. I've shuffled out of my cabin once or twice, in search of food and to check on the crew, but I'm always sent back to my quarters in fairly quick order.
I am exhausted. I am completely and thoroughly drained. I feel empty, hollow, on the inside. I'm supposed to be resting. Humaira is not helping.
She lays in bed beside me, on her stomach and not facing me. She's humming something, a playful little tune I've not heard before and she is staring. She hasn't been fixated on it for the last three days. As we lay here, talking and laughing, I keep catching her eyes wandering over to it.
I float the holocron from its shelf and place it in front of her. Humaira gasps and quickly sits up, crossing her legs in front of her.
"Can I touch it?"
I laugh. "Of course."
"I didn't know. I've heard about these but I didn't want to assume and I wasn't even sure if I -- since I don't have the Force -- if I could . . . I don't know . . ." She gingerly picks it up and holds it both her hands. "It's heavier than I thought it would be."
I watch as she slowly turns over and inspects its every side. She shakes her head, murmuring to herself at how beautiful it is.
"And the Jedi who taught you, is in this?"
"It's a storage device," I explain, "the Jedi would record their lives, their teachings and store them in these cubes. Then, when activated . . ."
I reach out to the palm-sized cube. I reach inside it. I feel its inner workings, the mechanisms that bring it to life. There are six strands that have to be plucked in the correct order. I find them. I pluck them.
The holocron begins to pulse with light. The inner workings come to life and the corners of the cube, which had appeared solid, suddenly unlock. They turn and springing out of the top is the hologram of a Kaminoan in Jedi robes is projected out of it. Reading its placement in the room, it zooms in from a full-body projection to one that is just from the waist up.
"Hello," she says, "I am Jedi Peacekeeper Oh Lin. Is there anything I can help you with?"
"It's fully interactive." I scoot in closer. "You can ask her anything and she'll answer you."
"To the best of my ability and knowledge," Oh Lin smiles. Her voice is soft, slow, and soothing. "I've learned a lot about the galaxy, but I cannot claim to know everything."
"Uh . . ." Humaira searches for a question, "I don't know . . . What's the Force?"
The Kaminoan's head sways back and forth at the end of her long neck. "You start with the biggest question of all."
"I'm sorry," Humaira looks back at me and then back at Oh Lin, "I just . . ."
"No," Oh holds up a gentle, reassuring hand. "You have nothing to apologize for. I like it. I like the big questions. I devoted my life to answering the big questions. It's where I started as well."
She takes in a small breath before answering, "the Force is many things and every culture and every being, it seems, interacts with it differently and understands a different aspect of it. Some have called it the Spark of Creation. Others, the Life Current. The Tide. The Sight. The Great Presence. What we all have agreed upon and discovered, in our own ways, is that it connects us. It connects every living being to every other living being. It is both life and created by life. It surrounds us. It flows through us. It holds the galaxy together. Through much training and perseverance, a Jedi can learn to interact with the Force." Oh's head dips slightly as she admits, "I do not like to say we control the Force, the Force is so much bigger than us, but that is the current, common understanding of it. By learning our place in the Force, we can exert a certain level of control over it." She smiles, "again, not words I am entirely comfortable with."
"I am not a Jedi," I remind Humaira, "as I said before."
Oh turns her attention to me, tilting her head quizzically -- as she always does when I say this.
"I appreciate and am thankful for the understanding you have shared with me," I say to the Jedi, "and while I agree with you on a lot of things, I do disagree with the dogma of the Jedi Order."
Oh Lin considers this. "The ways of the Jedi are not for everyone," she nods slowly. "But for Force-sensitive individuals, our rituals, our beliefs, our chosen lifestyle is one that shields us from falling to the Dark Side."
"But at what cost?" I counter. This is an argument she and I have had many times.
"If you do not control your fear," the Jedi tilts her head, "how do you stay in the Light?"
"I control it by confronting it," I explain. "By identifying it and refusing to let it control me."
"Is this not the Jedi way?" Oh asks.
"No," I respond simply. "The Jedi fear fear. And in doing so, let fear run and ruin their lives."
Oh Lin does not understand.
"A Jedi's life is one of complete abstinence. Fearing your emotions might get the better of you, you abstain from anything that might spark any actual feelings within you. You teach it's dangerous to feel pride in the the things you do. Curiosity is dangerous -- and so are friends and family! Anything that might connect you to someone or something, you abstain from. To avoid one extreme, you've swung to the other."
It's something I'm very passionate about. It frustrates me that I can't ever convince Oh of these things. She's not here. She's not alive. She can never change her mind.
"I don't believe in abstinence or indulgence, which is what you would have me believe are my only two options." I say.
I suddenly feel naked. I've only had a fleeting relationship with clothing these past three days, but this is the first time I have felt exposed and vulnerable in front of Humaira. I look over at her. She's listening to me, hearing me, weighing my words. I am being judged. I look back at Oh Lin.
"True discipline can only come from moderation," I say. "Acknowledging who you are, what you can do, what your weaknesses and strengths are, and keeping yourself in a state of balance . . . that is where knowledge comes from."
"You must trust your feelings," Oh says calmly. I can hear the monologue she's revving up for. "But emotions are fickle and unchecked can-"
I cut her off. "Moderation is the act of checking and re-checking yourself.I've searched my feelings and I know it to be true. And, it's as you say," I point at Oh, "the Force is so much bigger than us. Which means it's bigger than our understanding."
"I will not argue that," she concedes.
"Perhaps existence is not so black or white, good or evil. Light or Dark. Maybe, perhaps, there's just the Force and how you use it."
Oh's brow furrows. She does not like this. She never likes this.
"This is dangerous thinking," she says, "perhaps you should make your way to the Jedi Temple, where a Jedi Master would better instruct and guide you."
I reach out and deactivate the holocron. "I've told her before that the Jedi Temple no longer exists, that there are no more Jedi. She doesn't know what to do with that information. It's a possibility she never considered and doesn't have anything to say on the subject. She glitches and goes back to the last question you asked."
"She thinks you're dangerous."
I bite her shoulder. "I am dangerous."
"Can I hold your lightsaber?"
"Is that a euphemism?"
"No." Humaira points at the lightsaber on the other side of the room. "I want to hold your lightsaber."
I laugh. She takes that as a yes and bounds out of bed. Picking it up, careful to point the emitter away from her, she feels its weight.
"It's heavier than I thought it would be," she says.
"Maybe you're just bad at guessing the weight of things," I return the holocron to its shelf.
With a snap-hiss, Humaira fills the room with a golden yellow glow that I have always felt comforting. She waves it back and forth, listening to it hum. Her smile could not be any bigger. She deactivates it and watches the blade disappear into the hilt.
"You're the first person I've ever let touch that," I say as she sets it back down.
"Really?"
"You're the first person to ask," I chuckle. "I think most people are scared of it."
"Why?"
"A lot of people don't know what to think about the Jedi." I theorize. "I don't know if we, as a galaxy, ever really got to sift through everything that happened when the Old Republic fell. We were too busy trying to survive the empire and then a civil war and then rebuilding the Republic and . . . We haven't had time to study our history and learn from it."
"Does it bother you," Humaira asks as she crawls back into bed, "that if the Jedi were still around or if you had been alive back then, that they would brand you a Dark Jedi?"
"Neither side would like me very much." I lean back and take Humaira in my arms. "I'm too dark for the Light and too light for the Dark. I use my power to make money. And protect my friends. And, if I can, help others. I'm simultaneously too selfish and not selfish enough." I shrug like it doesn't bother me.
I'm trying to not let it bother me. I know the truth of the matter is that both sides would think I was undisciplined and weak. I tell myself I don't care about dead men's opinions of me but in the stillness of the night, it haunts me and makes me question myself.
Humaira lays her head on my chest. "You're a spark in the dark."
I smile. I like that.