“Huh… I wonder if that’s what happened to Qui-Gon Jinn?” Serra mused.
“Well, let’s ask him,” Malik replied with a grin. “Master, were you in fact branded a Gray Jedi by your peers?”
I was by some, yes. I spent much of my life in disagreement with the Jedi Council, often disobeying their orders for what I knew to be the greater good. This, however, did not make me a Gray, merely fodder for being called as such.
“That’s true, I guess. By what we’ve read, you’d have to draw on both the Light and the Dark without succumbing to the Dark Side. From all accounts we’ve read on your life, you never came anywhere close to that,” Serra said.
Indeed. I fear that the feeling of superiority some Jedi got in branding others Gray Jedi is one of the reasons for the fall of the Order. As Yoda mentioned, our stubbornness and inflexibility on matters that challenged our preconceived notions were our undoing. For some Jedi, it was easier to call someone a Gray than it was to actually consider the value of the difference in opinion. Such differences are where the greatest growth and learning often come from.
“I agree. Even if we end up not agreeing with all the doctrines of the Gray Jedi, I think there is great value in what they have to say, particularly in these dark times,” Malik replied.
Hmm… in that case, you should travel to Atollon. There resides an individual there known as Bendu. He is not a Jedi, nor is he a Sith. He calls himself the center point of the Force, the middle way if you will. I do not know for how long he has been alive, but his wisdom is immeasurable. If you wish to adopt some of the practices of the Gray Jedi for yourselves, I think it would be good for you to speak with him. You will learn much of your inner balance, or lack thereof.
“Atollon… I’ll look it up in the morning. Thank you for everything,” Malik said, placing the screen back on the nightstand.
You are most certainly welcome, my friends. And do not forget: I am always with you, for I am one with the Force now. Do not hesitate to ask if you require my council.
Malik quietly nodded in understanding, seeing that Serra had fallen asleep on his chest. After switching off the light, he soon joined her in unconsciousness.
*****
As the newlyweds made their preparations to leave the next morning, Yoda stopped by to see them off. Though he was sad to see them go, the old Jedi Master couldn’t have been happier at their growth over the previous week. He paced through the halls of the old Defender-class ship and reminisced over the many hours he had spent uploading files from the Jedi Archives to its memory banks.
“It’s almost time, Master,” Serra said from behind him.
“Yes,” he replied in a sad tone.
Seeing his emotion, Serra walked up to her old Master and knelt before him, wrapping him in a warm hug. “We’ll be back someday.”
“No, come back here you should not,” Yoda sighed. “If a frequent destination Dagobah becomes for you, easier for the Empire to find me it will be.”
“I… I understand,” she replied.
“We have to do what’s necessary,” agreed Malik, entering the hallway with them. “Master, I know we are not strong enough right now, but someday we will challenge Vader and the Emperor. We will be able to set right the galaxy.”
“Admire your conviction I do. Strive for this you should. But more important is to do good, and if possible, outlive the Empire.”
“I suppose that is the simplest form of victory in all this,” Malik said.
“Now, be on your way you must. Important things to accomplish you have,” Yoda said, bowing to Malik and Serra.
“We won’t disappoint you,” Serra answered.
“You two? Disappoint? Never!” Yoda shot back with a laugh. “One thing more. Considered have you what to name your ship?”
“You’re not the first person to ask, Master. And I actually had a thought on that just last night,” Malik replied. “Something Master Qui-Gon said to us last night. He was telling us of the being known as Bendu.”
“Yes, familiar with him I am. Wise I know him to be, but in quite a different way from the Jedi.”
“Qui-Gon said he was the center point of the Force, the middle way. That’s what struck me as the perfect name for our ship: the Middle Way.”
“Hmm… a worthy name it is.”
“I love it,” Serra agreed, kissing Malik on the cheek. “Guess it’s about that time.”
“Yeah.” Malik turned to Yoda. “Master, thank you… for everything.”
“My pleasure it was. Great things you two can accomplish.”
“We will be thinking of you, Master.”
“And I as well, Serra. May the Force be with you both.”
Yoda departed with a sad smile and the two Jedi powered up the ship for departure. Before long, they had left Dagobah behind them, heading towards their next destination.
“Ok, Atollon. Let’s see where it is…” Malik muttered as he studied the star chart.
“There! Wow, that’s quite a distance from here, almost across the whole galaxy.”
“Yeah, and we’ll have to plot our course with care. Look, almost every path takes us through occupied Imperial space.”
“Hmm… the most direct route would have us passing near Coruscant. I don’t think that would be the wisest course,” Serra agreed.
“Looks like we can take a route almost as direct around this way,” Malik surmised. “This way, the only major system we come close to is Mandalore. Still occupied by the Empire, but the siege has been ongoing there for months. They’d be too distracted to track us.”
“Sounds good.”
Malik programed the hyperspace coordinates, and soon the Jedi were speeding across the galaxy. A while later, they received a warning of a heavily occupied part of space ahead, necessitating their exit from hyperspace. As they dropped out of lightspeed, both knew exactly where they were.
“Shit… we’re right in the middle of the Mandalore system. And those are Imperial ships on the scanner; better power up the cloaking systems,” Serra said.
“On it.”
Now flying silently, the pair made their way with caution through the mess of Imperial warships. Along the way, Malik scanned various radio channels to see if he could pick up on any of their transmissions. Most were encoded, but a few came through unhindered. It seemed the Empire was on the hunt for a fugitive thought to be on the surface of Mandalore. The messages gave no indication about who the fugitive was, but did make it clear that whoever it was had turned on the Empire before fleeing. Finally past the fleet of ships, Malik was about to reenter hyperspace when he picked up a nearby distress signal.
“Let’s see what we’ve got,” he said to himself. “Huh… the signal is heavily encrypted, using the same frequency Senator Organa used. What do you think that means?”
“Not sure,” Serra replied. “I’ve got a lock on the signal. It appears to be a small escape pod of some kind. I say we check it out; could be a Jedi on the run.”
“Agreed.”
Serra piloted the ship towards the signal, soon spotting a tiny one-man escape pod approaching. They dropped their cloaking systems at the last second, drawing the escape pod into the cargo bay by way of their tractor beam. As they prepared to go investigate, a thought occurred to Malik.