Specious, the dreaded Sith Lord, stands on the bridge of his star-ship. His gaze extends far, far beyond the specks of light visible in the expanse of space. He sees the ripples in the force, he scours the Galaxy seeking those little sparks of force-sensitive life.
Specious is old, old from devouring life, weary from anger and vengeance and cruelty. He is tired, and the old games of cat and mouse don’t thrill him anymore. His apprentice is out there now, tightening his grip around the necks of the beaurocratic officials of Specious’ empire. Specious sees his own madness reflected in his apprentice. This endless thirst for power and control that leads nowhere. On his throne of thrones, Emperor of the Galaxy, feared by all his denizens, Specious is coming to find that his whole life has been a sort of sad joke. The Force is laughing at him. The Jedi are laughing at him. It has all been meaningless, and brought him nothing.
Specious’ apprentice, Lord Razin, does not share his master’s obsession with the Jedi. For centuries Specious hunted the Jedi. He fed on their life energy, extending his own life beyond any Jedi or Sith he has encountered in life or legend. But not even this can bring him satisfaction.
Out there, in the web of the Force, little sparks of light are growing and gathering. How long has Specious been the King Spider of this web? And yet, he has never succeeded in snuffing out the Jedi. The light always seems to rekindle itself out of nothing. For many years Specious has suspected that somewhere out there is a Master of Light, older even than Specious and capable of bending the Force to mask his own presence. Perhaps it is this Master who goes on initiating new Jedi, ensuring that the lineage is never lost. This idea is the only that brings Specious any semblance of excitement anymore. Perhaps he longs for a worthy opponent who could put an end to his miserable existence. But maybe, just maybe…
The idea is ludicrous. How could he, Lord Specious the Terrible, return to the Light? It’s inconceivable. Specious knows he must suffer his fate, and he is ready.
“There,” he points his skeletal finger at a solitary star blinking in the void. “That is where we must go.”
He taps his finger on the holo-console and selects the star from a field of millions. To the uninitiated, the stars are distant islands of life scattered in a vast emptiness, eternally disconnected. But those who see through the eyes of the Force see things differently. Specious sees, when he allows himself to, that there is no separation. The whole cosmos is woven of the Force, and brighter even than the stars are those beings who have learned to tap into this omnipresent field.
And on a distant planet that seems light-years away, these very beings are now gathering.
“Chart your course, lieutenant.”
“Yes Sir,” responds Specious’ captain, and in a matter of moments the Vessel goes into hyperdrive, slipping between the folds of space and time.
On the planet of Kawaiis, something rather unusual is happening. Jedi are celebrating. The Universe is in darkness, throttled by the Sith, and yet, the Jedi are celebrating!
They are young and they have found each other. From distant corners of the Galaxy, each has heard and heeded the call that brought them to Kawaiis.
Jenna, the beautiful and rebellious Princess of Alon who can tame even the fiercest animals.
Marko, the philosophical mystic whose understanding of the Force goes far beyond words, whose very presence is palpably entrancing.
Tai, the brilliant and soft-spoken leader of the group.
and Esma, poet and musician of the Force, whose very voice has the power to heal.
These four are not warriors, they’ve never even seen a lightsaber. They heal the wounds in the Force through their very presence, through their joy and their freedom. They walk by the Grace of their Master.
None of them have ever met their Master in the flesh, but each has gelt the Divine Hand of Guidance leading them to this moment. They too have come to meet the Master of Light. Just by meeting each other, it as though they have come to meet themselves.
Indescribable bliss flows from the meeting on Kawaiis. Throughout the Galaxy, business goes on as usual. Lord Razin is oblivious to the outpouring of Light, his mind focused on the little dramas of his bureaucratic life.
But the ripples travel through the Force. The plants can feel this Ecstasy, they babble happily to one another. And those who are connected to nature through their hearts can feel a new vibration of joy rippling through.
Now the celebration has quieted down. Esma’s flute sings softly into the warm murmur of night, and the four friends sit around a fire under the majestic light of the moon and stars.
“Rapture…” Marko whispers. “I met a man once, in my home world, who was madly in love with a woman he had seen only once. He was working at the docks, scrubbing the facade of a loading bay, when he noticed her boarding a Class-1 star-ship. There was something about her… he couldn’t put it into words, it was just a recognition. She turned around and saw him too, and he said she almost didn’t board her ship. But she was distracted by an attendant ushering her onboard… she cast one last glance back and then disappeared into the ship.
He was so in love with her he said every cell in his body felt as though it were on fire. And he showed me something remarkable: He put his hand into a flame and it didn’t burn. His skin didn’t even redden. And even though he felt all the pain of his lost love, he struck me as one of the happiest people I’ve ever met.”
“What happened?” asked Esma, putting down her flute. “Did he ever see her again?”
“I don’t know,” said Marko. “I hope so.”
“I read once that the Ancient Jedi disapproved of romantic love,” said Jena. “Why do you think that is?”
“Why would anyone disapprove of Love?” asked Tai. “Without Love there would be no Life. There would be no Force.”
“If the Jedi disapproved they must have had a reason,” said Esma. “Their wisdom told them that detachment and solitude would be for the highest good. But we have our own lives to live, our own stories to write. I wouldn’t want my life to tell future generations that there’s anything wrong with a natural desire for companionship and intimacy. I would rather encourage them to trust their own experience and wisdom, and be happy and free.”
“Also, many of the Ancient Jedi were warriors,” reminded Marko, “and losing a loved one can easily drive a warrior to rage and vengeance. Those are difficult paths to turn away from once you act on those impulses.”
“Can we say a prayer for all those who have known the Force and lost their way?” asked Esma.
At that very moment, the Vessel entered Kawaiis’ atmosphere a few miles from where the friends were sitting, an enormous meteor carrying a tail of fire and steam.
“It’s Lord Specious,” said Tai.
They had all known this moment might come. Strangely enough, none felt the cold grip of fear. There was just a heightened awareness. Along with the presence of Lord Specious was another Presence, a voice calling from the forest, calling Her children home.
“It’s our Master,” said Jena. “She is calling to us.”
As one unit, they headed into the forest. Bioluminescent plants and insects lit up a path through the woods, which eventually brought them into a clearing encircled by four great trees. In the middle of the clearing stood a large black obelisk. The obelisk had four sides, and on each side was a different colored crystal.
Marko ran his hand over the obelisk. “It’s obsidian,” he said.
Each of the four found themselves attracted to a side of the obelisk, to a different color crystal. And as they placed their hands on the crystals, they discovered that the crystals were held in place by some sort of magnetism, but slid easily out of their grooves.
“What are they?” asked Jena, mesmerized. Her purple crystal began to speak to her.
All of life is one crystalline consciousness. You, your mind, your personality, are just one perfectly unique facet of infinite consciousness. The crystal you hold in your hand resonates with your unique soul signature.
Once upon a time, Jedi used these crystals to power their lightsabers. These crystals represent your power. But they represent much more than that. They represent your integrity and your love. They act as a bridge between your mind and cosmic consciousness. They allow you to speak with the Divine Mother, and seek guidance and illumination.
In time, you will find your own ways to use your crystals. For now, just know that they are the guarantee of my Grace.
Everyone heard the message, in their own way. Marko’s crystal was blue, and he understood how all life was a crystalline language, a script which reveals its essence as we surrender to it. He could read the script of his own life, and it set him free.
Tai’s crystal was orange, like a soft sun or rich honey. He felt every cell in his body activating as a little mirror crystal, with a great stillness, relaxed integrity that poured energy into his heart.
Esma’s crystal was a beautiful emerald green and she knew, instantly, that all plants and trees and blades of grass are exquisite, flowing, living crystals. Each crystal communicating through creative resonance. And at the heart of this mystery language, one message:
“I am You. We are Whole.”
“Lord Specious, our scanners show four life forms in the clearing ahead.”
“Very well, lieutenant. I will go on alone.”
The captain did not argue, he knew better than to question his Master’s orders. “Hold position, men” he said over the com, as the old Sith Lord walked steadily on.
Lord Specious did not know what he would do when he confronted the young Jedi. Perhaps they would attack, out of fear, and he would destroy them. Perhaps they would run, and he would simply watch them flee. He could see only these two options. Could there be a third?
He stepped into the clearing and the Jedi were gone. Were they hiding? He could not see even a trace of them in the force. But…
There was something strange about the obelisk. The black stone was a blind spot in the Force. It cloaked the whole clearing in darkness.
Specious approached the obelisk cautiously and studied the carvings on the outside. Ancient, far older than he, but he recognized a few of the designs. They were of some imporance to the Ancient Jedi, symbolizing the balance of Light and Dark.
Finally, he touched his tired hand to the obsidian.
The obsidian spoke to him about darkness. All he had gained in his turbulent life was shown to be nothing. His empire, his ships, no more than clouds in the sky. Only a dream.
Every wound he had ever inflicted, every cruelty and deception, pointed back to a single wound. A great pain housed deep in the cells of his body. A cancer that was eating him from within. His whole life had been nothing more than an attempt to control this cancer and keep it at bay. But he was done struggling. Eat me, be done with it, he said, and surrendered.
After about an hour, Specious’ lieutenant worked up the courage to step into the clearing and see what had happened to his Master. The only trace he could find was Specious’ unmistakable handprint scorched into the surface of the obelisk. There was no sign of a struggle, only birdsong and wind blowing gently through the trees.
When Razin learned of his Master’s demise at the hands of four powerful Jedi warriors, fear gripped his heart. He loaded a ship with gold and priceless artifacts and fled to a distant star system.
With the disappearance of their Sith overlords, the Empire began to buckle and shake under the pressure of the popular uprisings, triggered, to some degree, by rumors of the return of the Jedi.
Meanwhile, four friends travelled through the Galaxy, sharing their knowledge of the Force and awakening a new revolution… a revolution of peace and joy.