5/8

When the back of the Wookie's hand finally tapped down there was a cheer from the onlookers. The Wookie stood up, cocking his head to one side, and nodding his head, reaching across to slap a hand on Ranma's shoulder before heading off without another word.

For his part, the owner of the bar now looked rather astonished, shaking his head as he laughed. But his eyes were not smiling as he looked at Ranma. "No human's ever been able to out arm-wrestle a Wookie! Have you been gene-enhanced?"

"Just a martial artist." Ranma said with a laugh. She threw back her red hair, smirking up at the taller man. "So I wrestle you now yes?"

"Arm wrestle," the owner said, smirking a little at the innuendo for a moment since he certainly would have liked to 'wrestle' with the short redhead, preferably on his bed. But from the redhead's expression it wasn't a come on or anything, just a word missing from the sentence.

Sighing he nodded at the droid on the bar, which pressed a button on a small control console behind it. The table where Ranma had faced the Wookie and the floor several feet around it rose two feet into the air allowing the crowd to see what was going on much more easily.

Stepping up to the side of the raised dais, the owner of the bar pulled on his elbow for a moment, and suddenly his skin seemed to come off, leaving a fully articulated mechanical arm behind. There were some murmurs of that from the crowd, but mostly the sounds were amused, to the tune of 'ahah' as if the watchers had just worked out a trick.

Michael moved through the crowd as they all began to exchange further bets. After all it wasn't every day that someone got past the Wookie to the proprietor of the bar. "Kid, you might want to throw this match now." He whispered into Ranma's ear.

Ranma cocked her head at him. "Huh, why?"

"That cyborg's probably got his arm's limiter off, that's why. He'll rip your arm off!"

"Limiter?"

Michael rolled his eyes at Ranma's naïveté. "Robots are stronger than most species out there, and can be enhanced further through further engineering. So cyborgs outside the military have to have their limiters set by the government of the world they're on." If those limiters are removed, the individual faces revoking of his citizen's license, and expulsion from the system. Of course those laws, like most, depended on the government's willingness to care about enforcing them. Here it probably wasn't enforced, which made the bar owner's use of his arm sharp practice rather than illegal. After all, he didn't need to warn his opponent as he had by removing his arm's synth-skin.

Ranma shrugged. "Doesn't matter. Always wanted to see what I'd do against Terminator." Michael furrowed his brow, not getting the reference but Ranma ignored him waving the man off as she moved towards the table. Ranma had seen the original Terminator movies when they came out, having snuck into the movie theater while on the training trip with his old man, shirking a few hours of training for once because he'd heard so much about them. They had scared him when he was a kid, the unstoppable robotic menace destroying humanity and all that. But as he grew older, he'd desired to see what he could do against them.

As Ranma sat down the people around him the crowd continued to trade bets, many of them moving purposefully towards Michael and Duncan. He figured though the two of them could handle the betting themselves, and ignored them to stare at his opponent as he sat down, setting his robotic arm on the table.

Ranma gripped the cyborg's hand, and both of them looked over at the droid stuck into the bar. "Contestants are you ready? Then begin!" The match started, with the cyborg immediately going on the offensive trying to push Ranma's arm down.

Ranma grunted a little as the cyborg's arm actually made her strain a little but not that much. She held her hand steady shaking a little in place as the cyborg owner of the bar exerted his full strength. After a moment though the man realized that Ranma's arm wasn't moving. "What the hell are you?!"

"I told, I martial artist." said Ranma, and now beginning to go on the offense. For a moment the cyborg's arm was stuck at halfway down, then Ranma slammed it down, causing a loud screech of metal to come from the man's elbow. Terminator can eat that! Ranma crowed internally.

While Ranma stood up and waved at the crowd, which was cheering him or groaning in agony depending on which way they bet, the cyborg frowned angrily at his arm, which was shorting out at the elbow. "Dammit." The man looked back at Ranma then sighed, motioning Ranma to follow him towards the far end of the room.

They passed through the crowd, with Ranma receiving many pats on the shoulders for her show. One person however tried to pat her on the rear as she went past. That man went flailing by a backhand smacking own arm away with such force he lost his balance and went sprawling to the ground.

People around him began to laugh at the man's misfortune and Ranma moved on, with Michael and Duncan quickly pushing their own way through the crowd. Their pockets were bulging with the local currency, but that was a paltry sum in comparison to the amount the house would have to pay out to them given the odds Michael had gotten on Ranma before she joined the contest.

The man stepped around one of the other bars, a small half-circle set at the far wall from the doorway into the bar. Reaching down below its top for a moment the cyborg flicked on a scanner. Ranma stepped onto a stool right in front of him, cocking her head. "So, now I get my money?"

The man waved her off for a moment staring down at a small screen set discreetly below the top of the bar. Dammit she's reading as human! If Ranma had in fact been an android with a covering of synth-skin, the man would have been able to get out of paying since such couldn't be used in physical contests, but she was reading as fully human. Muscle mass and strength were off the scale, but there was nothing unusual about that.

He sighed, flicking the screen of before looking up at Ranma, Michael and Duncan. He wondered idly whose idea this was, it certainly wasn't the redheads. Her wide disingenuous eyes just didn't seem the type to think this scheme up. "Look Ranma, I don't have enough money to pay the entire amount you're due. I can pay in small installments, or you can take what I have now, and become a part-time owner in the bar for a bit until the rest is paid off."

"I not care so much about the money." Ranma said with a shrug. "I want to buy one of your droids. The astromech, Tune."

The bartender frowned. Calculating in his head he realized that would actually let him a little ahead, though he wasn't about to say that aloud. "An almost brand-new droid like that, that'll take more than what you're owed."

"If it was new it would, but it isn't, that droid is secondhand at best already. You've made modifications and the previous owner probably made modifications, which knocks down the price." Michael said speaking up now. "Ranma's owed 70% of the take, that droid should cover it, especially since it was repurposed to a task it was never designed for."

Ranma shrugged his shoulders again. "Just want the droid, and a meal too maybe. I'm hungry." Not that the local food looks all that appetizing, but meh, I've eaten worse on the road. Though looking into the different types of food available in this universe is up there with finding different martial arts styles to learn.

"All right," the bartender said with a sigh, realizing he wasn't going to get anywhere here. "He's been trouble anyway, take him and good riddance. As for you two, wait there I'll bring out your money."

While Michael and Duncan sat at the bar, Ranma moved through the crowd looking for Tune. He ignored the sound of mutters around him from those portions of the crowd that were unhappy about how the betting had gone. More than one of them was trying to work up the courage to try and take it out on the short human female, but after her show of strength that wasn't an easy task.

It took Ranma a while to find Tune, who was serving a male alien with octopus like tentacles growing out of his head. So many weird ass aliens around, still, bet humans look just as weird ta some of them. He approached the droid from behind, reaching down to pat it on the head underneath the tray stuck there before reaching further down to pull off the small cylinder that was stuck into its side. Immediately the droid's lights lit up to full power, and its dome-shaped head turned quickly, it's visual recorder turning to look up at her.

Ranma grinned, holding up a thumb to its sensor. "Told you I'd get you out of here. So what you think, want to come with me and see the stars again? Or stay to wait tables?"

The droid beeped at Ranma quizzically, warbling a noise that sounded like a question.

"Oh yeah, you don't know yet." Ranma said with a laugh. "I'll show you later, but I'm the same person who talked to ya before." The droid warbled derogatorily and Ranma smirked. "Yeah I know I'm different, but I just bought ya, and you can get out of here, get explanations later, yeah?"

That seemed to do it for the droid who warbled again this time in clear agreement and quickly made to follow Ranma. Behind the droid the alien with the tentacle head stood up, frowning angrily as the droid moved away from his table. "Hey comeback, those are my drinks!"

Ranma turned to him smiling and grabbing the tray off its holder over the droid's head, holding it out to them. "Sorry, he not work here no more."

The alien took a moment to look Ranma over, smirking a little. "Well as an apology, why don't you come over and have a drink with me instead? Are you with anyone right now?"

Ranma frowned angrily, realizing she was being hit on but before she could respond in an appropriate manner, such as kicking the man in the balls, a female voice from behind her spoke out. "She is not, but you are. Or were, you bastard!"

Smirking, Ranma turned to stare at a girl his own age, and surprisingly size too. She had creamy sort of mocha-colored skin, a very good looking athletic sort of body, and was an alien. It was kind of obvious what with her having no hair and several horns sticking out of her head which made it look like she was wearing some kind of crown. She was still very pretty though, not as pretty as Twila had been, but still a cut above most of the girls elsewhere in the crowd.

The man obviously thought so as well because he backed up rapidly. "Sorry babe, I, that is, I thought you had stood me up! I've been here for like 45 minutes!"

"You've been waiting for about five." Said the girl flatly. She then turned to the redhead. "Now as for you…"

Ranma backed away quickly holding up her hands while Tune made some noises that sounded as if the droid was amused by the goings-on. "I not lead him on or anything, I just here to get droid I win on bet. I not interested in guys."

"Oh." The girl said blankly, staring into Ranma's very honest looking blue eyes, before shrugging her shoulders. "Whatever powers your engines I suppose?"

A voice from behind Ranma spoke up. "Hic, you can 'ardly blame 'im, I mean, look at t'ese t'ings!" One of the people that had bet against Ranma had found enough liquid courage to start something, but instead of trying to take it out on her physically the man had decided to get his money's worth another way. Before Ranma could turn she felt two hands grabbing at her chest from behind.

Swiftly Ranma turned around, her elbow coming around at speed to slam into the man's head, sending him rocketing sideways with enough force to take six other people to the floor from the crowd around them. "Hands off!"

While the alien girl nodded in approval and moved over to further remonstrate her boyfriend, some of the people that Ranma's molester had taken out with his fall stood up glaring angrily at her and pulling out weapons. "What the fuck bitch! Isn't it enough that you cost us money, now you have to knock us around too!""

"No matter how strong she is she can't stop a stun bolt. I say we get our money's worth another way!" One of them said, raising a blaster. Even as a booming voice came from the speakers shouting about how violence was not allowed here and a few bouncers moved through the crowd purposefully the man pulled the trigger.

Ranma leapt upwards as soon as she saw the man's finger twitch, and the blue corona or stun energy passed directly below her, unfortunately knocking out several in the crowd. Their friends turned, raising their own blasters and firing back, and suddenly there was a massive bar fight going on, blue corona's flying everywhere and knives off as well.

Ranma dropped down onto one of her attacker's heads, bearing him to earth. At the same time, her arms flashed out to both sides smacking into and lifting up two others, throwing them aside.

Behind her, Tune raced forward, knocking several people over in his haste to follow. But Tune's treads were not really made for any kind of close combat, nor was the droid large enough to have much mass behind its charge. The droid lost its actuator arm when tried to clear its way and was quickly knocked

Having heard it's warbling cry Ranma leaped backwards. Lifting the droid up easily in one arm Ranma jumped back over several dozen heads, landing lightly on a bar to scan the crowd while tucking the droid underneath one arm. The droid was now warbling incessantly, sounding irritated and worried, but Ranma ignored him scanning the crowd for Michael and Duncan.

Both of them had already been knocked to the floor, one of them was unconscious and the other was holding his head groggily. "Maybe they got hit by a stray stun bolt or something." Ranma mused as she landed next to him. Picking them up one after another she talked them on her shoulders then made for the door. She'd had enough fun for one night, and after all she had to protect her investment.

Ranma raced through the port and a few moments later they reached the Kaisenki. The droid, which had been tooting incessantly to be let down now stopped, its eye on the ship. It tootled a question, and Ranma laughed.

"I not with the Republic if that what you asking, I'm just a friend at the moment. Eventually I want my own ship, why I thought getting you a good idea."

The droid twirled its head around whistling an affirmative. A few moments later Ranma had dumped Duncan and Michael unceremoniously in one corner of the machine room, noting absently that their pockets were no longer bulging with money. They seemed to have a goodly amount still, but a lot of it had been removed before Ranma could get to them. "Oh well, not my fault."

She set Tune down as well, frowning as she looked through the electrical appliances in the tool shed. She held one up that she had seen the mechanic of the ship use once on a droid, holding it out to Tune. "This let me talk better with you?"

The droid whistled an assent, and a small hatch on its side opened showing port. Ranma and nodded, and plug the end of the thing into it. Almost immediately the scrolling of messages appeared. "Are you really human? No human is as strong as you have shown yourself to be! Are you a Jedi? Normal humans cannot jump as well as you did in the bar. What happened to the human that I talked to the first time? It's obvious you are not him, he was male, you are female, are you siblings?"

"Heh, I answer all questions, but first, you know about the, the Force?" Ranma stumbled over using that term for what he did, but he had to fit his abilities and of course the magic of his curse into the local dialect he supposed.

The droid answered in the alternative, and Ranma placed the small scanner on its head for a moment, while he recited what Dooku had made 25 do to stop the droid's brain from exploding. "Prepare folder in memory for Force powers, unexplainable."

With that Ranma moved over to small drink dispenser, warming up some water and dumping it over her head. He became a she, and the droid whooped, burbled and shook in place for a moment before calming down thanks to Ranma's warning. As the droid's flashing started to slow down Ranma smirked at him. "I told you I was one to talk to you."

About an hour later, Ranma was carefully going over the droid, removing the tray holder and money box as well as giving it a thorough cleaning. While Ranma had no idea about electronics back in his own dimension, and had even less here, he could do this kind of low-scale maintenance easy enough.

At the same time he and the droid kept up a conversation via the screen readout that was hooked up to Tune's head. "That's what I hope to do yeah. Making money won't be hard so long as I can find underground fights or something like that, so money might not be an issue. Hopefully teaching myself how to fly starships won't be too hard. But before that, I'd really feel better if you had some self-defense."

/Agreed, I will look up ship types to see if I can find a match for your needs, a small freighter or large independent spacefighter type might be best. After that, finding a training program for you will be easy enough. As for myself, I would rather like some defenses as well. I will check local merchandise and see what I can find, though I will not find much on Malastare. Gran frown on droids having weapons, as do many species. These days it is also becoming a political as well as safety issue. One of the core worlds underworlds might be the best bet for that kind of thing, unless you allow me to, the human phrase is 'think outside the box'/. The droid replied.

"Heh, go ahead Tune, I'd be interested in what you come up with." Ranma looked up as the door to the maintenance area opened and Dooku looked inside.

The older man looked from Ranma to the, to his mind, garishly colored droid, to the two crewmen groggily moaning in the corner going through what looked like a stunner induced hangover. "I don't want to know, do I?"

"Probably not." Ranma replied, as Tune played a sound that sounded remarkably like a Bronx cheer.

OOOOOOO

This place wasn't so much hidden as simply unknown. From the exterior of the building it looked like any other portion of the senatorial sector of the giant city that sprawled across the entire planet of Coruscant. Anyone who saw it from the outside would simply see a portion of the Banking Clan's suites, and would see the windows that such men demanded to stare out across the cityscape.

The interior was very different. The windows, which were supposed to look down onto a highway far below, were in fact blacked out. Another portion of the room was dominated by its real windows, which allowed the people within to stare out and across at the Jedi Temple with no one seeing them in turn. This was not a view most Senators or their functionaries would've found agreeable, especially in this day and age, where the Jedi were often seen as nuisances, outsiders or meddlers.

But the owners of this particular suite very much preferred it this way. After all, keeping their eyes on their enemies was a necessity. Especially now, when events had been set in motion to trap some of them.

Two men stood there, the two men known as Sidious and Maul. As before the apprentice was barely able to contain his anger, his all-consuming fury a volcano constantly threatening to erupt. After only a few brief moments of staring at the Temple he asked, "what will the Jedi do now, master?"

"Do? What else can they do, but my bidding?" Sidious moved away, moving towards a chair that made no bones about being a throne. Though far simpler than most such, it seemed to somehow convey a sense of dark power that the other possible throne hidden far below the surface level of Coruscant had. "There will be much discussion of course but for all their talk there is only one conclusion at which they can arrive at: they must confront the Yinchorri. The loss of two of their own and the threat the Yinchorri pose will force them to do so."

Sidious sat down in the chair, turning to address Maul as his hands rested on the armrests. "From this will result one of two things, either of which will benefit our plans. Either the very stubborn and warlike Yinchorri, whose inconvenient resistance to mind control could present a problem in the future will be brought low or…" And here he smiled, and never was there a smile more sinister. "Jedi will die."

"Master, send me, I…"

"No the time is not yet come to reveal our presence. Get me the Devaronian. I want to make certain he is prepared."

"Yes master." Bowing his head lightly, the Zabrak moved away from the throne.

A moment later a small hologram appeared on a portable hologram device. As soon as the image of the bowing Devaronian appeared, the human male spoke again. "The Jedi will be coming soon. Are you certain that you're ready for them?"

"The Yinchorri are hot for blood they are prepared you bet." The Devaronian said his voice almost jovial. Though whether or not that was an act or his accent in Basic was not clear. "But what of Vilmarh's fee? Vilmarh is to be trusting you, but you are not trusting Vilmarh to even see your face? What is with that?"

"It is better that you don't know my identity." Sidious said coldly. "It is better still that you don't fail me. Do I make myself clear?"

The alien demon could not keep a small shudder from showing and he bowed even more deeply. Even so, his voice came across again as jovial. "Yeah, yeah, clear as ice crystals. Vilmarh was meaning no offense. Don't you worry boss, Jedi will be dead quick-quick."

"Very well, we will speak again afterward."

"Please master!" Said that the Zabrak as soon as the transmission cut off. "Let me go to Yinchorr, I…"

"Patience, my apprentice. Distasteful as it may be we must let intermediaries like Vilmarh be our hands for now. Our time will come, but it is not yet."

With that Sidious leaned back for a moment, thinking. The Jedi were almost certain to ask for Senate aid in blockading the Yinchorri, which would cost Chancellor Valorum much of his political clout to achieve. That would be the first step to his own eventual rise, as Plagueis had planned. Yet for some reason, his mind kept going back to the ripples surrounding Dooku. A few of them showed glimpses of others interceding before the Chancellor could waste his political capital to send in the Republic Fleet.

That would mean that the Chancellor would retain much of his influence which would push back his own ascension to that seat. Yet try as he might, he could not see a point where that future, once set in motion completely, could be derailed. So, how best to turn it to my advantage? Best to wait and see what races in fact take part in such a move, if it occurs at all. And possibly set in motion events on Malastare to keep Dooku's attention closer to home? No, I'd have to use outsiders or risk revealing my contacts in the Gran government. Dooku is too smart for me to risk that, though I could simply contact him myself if he does not contact me to aid in whatever he has planned… hmm…

On the other hand, the Yinchorri could be useful to us in the future. They are strong, determined, and their ability to ignore Jedi mind tricks and manipulation is admirable in a slave race. They could be enhanced further. And using bands of them elsewhere, even after someone else intervenes, could be used to show both the Chancellor's ineptitude. After all, if he had acted quickly, the Yinchorri could've been contained much more easily. And it would also distance the races involved from those who continue to face Yinchorri pirate raids.

After a moment he spoke again. "I have a task for you apprentice, contact the Teeth of the Krayt. I have a task for those slavers."

OOOOOOO

Looking up from going through some more history videos on different Jedi lightsaber weapons, Ranma cocked his head looking at Dooku who had just walked into the sitting area. "You look…" he frowned, thinking of the word he wanted in Basic. Despite all his progress, it still wasn't an automatic thing with him. "worried, irritated?"

Dooku smiled briefly, but it didn't stay on his face for long. He had just gotten off the Hypercom with Master Yoda, asking about the news broadcasts which had been dispersed all over the galaxy. "If you can read that in my face, it's obvious I need to practice my control more. Still, I would like to talk, if that is alright?"

Ranma stood up resolutely, moving over and grabbing the training lightsabers from where they hung nearby. "No. We fight, you vent then we talk." He shook his head. "You Jedi, you not have much control over emotions. It all pile up inside, stupid, but if you vent it much easier to deal with."

"You need to work on keeping control of your voice when you are excited." Dooku sent a faint smile. "But I do need to get control of my emotions." Since meeting Ranma he had learned enough about what Ranma called the corrupting effect of anger to no longer be interested in the Dark Side, and he had no wish to fall into it accidentally now.

Ranma shook his head. "Control yes, not forcing away. Forcing away all it does is come back." Ranma grimaced. "I learned that hard way."

"There's a story there that you haven't shared yet." Dooku murmured.

Ranma looked at him his eyes narrowed. "Not one I want to share, not with Jedi. You lot too against emotions already, don't want to share that one."

Dooku's eyebrows rose, but he didn't question it simply taking his position across from Ranma and bringing up the training saber into a guard position.

Hours later, Dooku sagged against the bulkhead for a moment breathing deeply. Ranma had actually taken it easily on him now, knowing that Dooku couldn't use any of his Force tricks on the interior of the training area and had stayed mostly on the defense for the entire fight. It wasn't Ranma's normal method, but it had allowed Dooku to gain control of himself, and to, in Ranma's words, vent.

"Thank you." he said sighing deeply as he found himself once more centered. He reached out for the Force, feeling it flow into him in a steady, uninterrupted and calm stream.

Ranma nodded in response. "You still want to talk?"

"I am afraid I have to." Dooku sighed. He gestured Ranma to punch the button that would raise the sitting area up once more, noticing with something far too close to envy for his state of mind that Ranma wasn't even sweating after their exercise. Of course I wasn't using any of my Force abilities, but still that is a little humbling. And it shows he has become more used to my abilities than I am to his.

Ranma look up to from him from where he sat as Dooku sat down across from him, striking before Dooku could speak. "We've talked before, but we haven't talked about why you're so welcoming to me. Think that is mixed up with all of your questions about ki techniques, but I need to know why."

"That wasn't what I wanted to talk about, but I suppose it's a good starting point." Dooku sighed again. "Have you come to an opinion about the Jedi Order?"

"Beyond my opinion about you not teaching control rather abstaining from emotions you mean?" Rama asked dryly, having concentrated to get that sentence out properly. "I admit that the Sith, they sound like, well like one of my old acquaintances but with actual skill behind the anger and a lot of nasty techniques besides. And I even understand why you guys think that abstaining might be a good idea, but it's a very stupid, short-sighted solution."

And it wasn't even worth thinking about in Ranma's opinion. He had already decided he would never share what his father had done to him with the Jedi or with anyone else in this galaxy. He didn't know if the Youthful Mind or Imperial Favor technique would work on other races, but he wasn't willing to find out.

"I am slowly coming to agree with you about that, your arguments about it are valid at least for humans on a psychological level, though why it had never occurred to us to look up the long term effects of enforced apathy and emotional dissonance is beyond me. I am uncertain if they would be valid for other races, I haven't studied the psychology of every other race that has representatives among the Jedi of course. Abstaining from emotions might be easier for them. But that is not what I meant. I meant about the Jedi Order as a whole."

Ranma paused pulling in his ponytail. "I am not a political person or an… analyst." He had to search for that word for a moment looking at Dooku when he said it and smiling when the older man nodded indicating he had remembered the right word.

"I understand that Ranma, but you mentioned several points that caught my attention in our earlier discussions, your point about the Hypercom, where you wondered if a bug could be placed in the base program to let others overhear any messages sent, it was well-founded. What did you say at the time, the outsider sees most of the game? That is what I want from you."

Ranma frowned. "What are you asking exactly?"

Dooku frowned as well looking down at his hands. What am I asking exactly? When he spoke it was low, almost a whisper, and he didn't look away from his hands. "I have questioned the role of the Jedi Order in the galaxy for several years, our direction within the Republic. For too long the Republic has been in stasis, and corruption has set in. The Jedi Order is slowly becoming a part of that corruption, if we are not already a part of it. I have seen the corruption in the Senate. I have seen the corruption of the guilds, the clans, the corporations, the factions. I have seen the growing anger in some systems, even entire sectors, against the Senate and against the Jedi, who they see as the face of the Republic."

"Worst of all, I have felt the stagnation within the Order, that we are becoming as hidebound and separate from the general populace as many accuse us of. I have asked the Force often for some sign to tell me if there was a solution to that problem, if I should keep following the Order or, or do something else with my life."

Dooku did not want to come out and admit that he had been possibly two or three more weeks away from deciding to search out the Jedi's natural enemies the Sith. He had believed that their presence would either make the Jedi order grow again, or Force the Republic as a whole to grow, much like competition did on the economic level. Now however, he did not believe that any longer, or rather he hoped that Ranma represented something that could kick-start that growth without the death and destruction the Sith might cause if they returned.

"The last time I searched the Force for an answer I felt your presence. That was why I found you and the miners. I believe that your being here in this galaxy serves some kind of higher purpose, and I want to know what you think I should do." Dooku laughed ruefully. "Talking to you has already convinced me that one of my choices going forward would never have worked out, and you've opened up several avenues of research into the Force and the Living Force inside of us all in particular that I never even contemplated. But those do not answer my big questions."

Ranma stayed silent for a moment staring at the older man. Okay, I did not expect that! The idea I'm here to serve some Force-given higher purpose gives me the heebie-jeebies. Still, I sure as hell am not gonna do anything I wouldn't do otherwise, and it makes me even more leery of teaching anyone else my ki techniques. But, but if all I'm here for, if all Dooku wants from me is my thoughts on the system, that at least I can do with a clear conscience.

When he spoke he reiterated what he had said before, each sentence coming out carefully constructed. "I am not a political analyst, nor am I a Jedi. I barely have enough understanding of the galaxy to understand what you're talking about when you say the Senate or the Republic. But I will say what I think if that is what you want."

Dooku nodded. "That is indeed what I want."

"Okay. One, the bigger a government is the bigger a bureaucracy is the more corrupt it will become. That something lots of empires and countries learn back home." Ranma started without further preamble, thinking of China, Rome, the Mongol Empire, even the Persian Empire. "The Republic is huge, too big, too old, corruption is simply part of it now. It's made worse by the fact that the central government doesn't actually have much power that isn't tied into that corruption. It relies on the Jedi for its strength. It makes you the face of its laws and its wars, and when things go bad or even when they go good for those in power, it is you who take the blame."

Dooku nodded having come to that conclusion himself since this mission began and he had talked to some of the locals as he had said to the Jedi Council several days ago. He sighed, closing his eyes. So we truly have become part of the problem.

"However, that not your place." Dooku's eyes shot open and he stared at Ranma who laughed cynically. "You're not an elected official, you not a part of the Senate, trying to reform it from within, that not your place. You as individual need to think only of the Jedi's part of the system. Need to…"

Ranma paused gathering his thoughts before going on, his words once more controlled. "You need to start to act separately from the Senate. Start to get to know the common people, live among them, not separate yourselves. Something separate, something foreign like that, it, will simply allow distrust, even hate, to fester."

"But that goes back to the Senate." Dooku protested. "It is too often the Senate that tells the Jedi where to go. If we can but reform the Senate, or…"

"But it is the Jedi who listen to those orders." Ranma cut him off quickly. "They can keep telling you, but you can stop listening. You all need to take a stance of your own, figure out individually or as a group a view of what is right and wrong. Take a stance of your own or you're just following someone else's view and they control you like that." He frowned angrily. "I am not getting this across well, my emotions get in the way of my converting my words to Basic." He said enunciating the words clearly. "But I hope you understand what I'm trying to say. It is not your place to reform the whole thing, you may be a Jedi master, but you're not a God. You can maybe help reform of the Order itself though."

Dooku sigh. "Only if it is wishful to be reformed."

"Then you do what you can as an individual, you make a stand for yourself as what is right and wrong. I never said it was easy, I just said it needed to be done. If you lot think that the Force is supposed to guide you, you listen to it, you go where this Force Wants you, no longer accept simple jobs from the Senate, just, just do what is right, not what is easy!"

Ranma rubbed one hand through his hair knowing that he wasn't getting the ideas across that he wanted to, and inwardly really wondering how anyone could think that that chi could have a will like that… although Ranma was starting to feel something in the air of this dimension.

Dooku frowned. "So where would you begin?"

"Training in emotional control, and getting rid of this no attachments, no passion crap, makes you into fucking robots." Ranma said bluntly.

"You really have a problem with that don't you?"

"People with no attachments to people or places are outsiders, outsiders are never trusted, not really. Worse, if you have no real stake in anything but the Order then you are not a part of the Republic, merely set to the side. People need to see you as force for good, not force for same-old, same-old." Ranma replied, using a phrase that at least got the meaning of 'stasis' across.

For a moment the two of them were silent contemplating what had been said. "I am not certain I can agree with that." Dooku said at last. "I might've come into the order late, but I'm not… is that really the source of the Order's apathy? Because we don't care enough, we don't have a large enough, large enough stake in the Republic?"