Chapter 41: It’s good to be the King

The rain pounds against the towering windows of the Jedi Council chamber, each droplet a reminder of the storm raging within me. I stand before the assembled Masters, my daughter Xevas a silent presence at my side, her blue eyes watchful. The air feels heavy, charged with the weight of my request.

"Masters," I begin, my voice steady despite the tumult in my heart, "I implore you to reconsider. Darth Relic poses a grave threat to the galaxy. As his..." My words briefly stumble. "As the Jedi who was imprisoned in his home world, I will have the most insight as to how to find him." I try to come up with the best excuse I can.

Master Bola's brow twitches, his ancient eyes boring into mine. "Your judgment is clouded, Master Vexas. This mission would be personal."

I clench my fists, fighting to maintain my composure. How can I make them understand? The image of Vex, my son, wielding that blood-red lightsaber flashes through my mind. I push it away, focusing on the present.

"With all due respect," I counter, "my personal connection gives me insight no other Jedi possesses. I can feel his presence through the force, just as I can feel his sister's here.

"Enough," Master Ossk cuts in, his tone sharp. "You know this goes against everything the Jedi Code stands for. Attachment leads to the dark side, Master Vexas. You, of all people, should know better than to even suggest such a mission."

I feel Xevas tense beside me, her confusion and concern rippling through our bond.

"The Code exists to guide us," I argue, desperation creeping into my voice, "but surely there are times when we must adapt to meet new threats. Darth Relic is no ordinary Sith." They have to understand.

The Masters exchange glances, their disapproval palpable. I scan their faces, searching for any hint of understanding, but find only stern resolve. My heart sinks as I realize the futility of my plea.

Master Mana-li leans forward, his masked face unreadable. "Your dedication to the Order is not in question, Master Vexas. But this request cannot be sanctioned. It would compromise everything we stand for."

I bow my head, defeat washing over me. The sound of rain intensifies, mirroring the turmoil within. What will become of Vex, of the galaxy, if I cannot intervene? The weight of my failure as a mother threatens to crush me.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what I must do. The words taste bitter as I speak them, but I know there's no other way.

"If the Council will not sanction this mission," I say, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside, "then I am forced to leave the Order."

Gasps echo through the chamber. I feel Xevas stiffen beside me, her shock palpable through our Force bond.

Master Ossk leans forward, his brow furrowed. "Master Vexas, surely you don't mean—"

"I do," I interrupt, my resolve hardening. "I cannot stand idle while my son becomes a black hole hell-bent on eating the entire galaxy. Have you not read the new reports? Just the other day, one of our probe droids on Korriban picked him mercilessly, slaughtering 20 defectors. He didn't even break a sweat. Let me say that again, Council. Twenty against ONE." I stretch out the syllables of Twenty to make sure my point is made.

Xevas steps forward, her voice trembling but determined. "Masters, please. I know this is unorthodox, but my brother is beyond redemption. He must be stopped before he threatens the entire galaxy!"

I feel a swell of pride at her courage, even as my heart aches for the burden I've placed on her young shoulders.

Master Bola's face hardens. "You haven't even reconnected with him yet. Do you think you can kill him? Beyond that, he has killed more Sith in one day than we have in one year."

The other Council members nod in agreement, their dismissal clear. I clench my fists, fighting back a wave of frustration. How can they be so blind?

"Then we are at an impasse." I shake my head in defeat, motioning Xevas to follow me.

As we exit the Council chambers, the weight of our decision settles heavily upon my shoulders. As the rain outside grows stronger, it reflects the inner turmoil I am feeling. I sense a presence behind us, and my irritation spikes as I recognize the Force signature.

King Skywalker. No older than 16, the recently knighted Jedi's arrogance precedes him like a foul odor. I don't turn, hoping he'll take the hint and leave us be. But of course, he doesn't.

"Master Vexas!" His voice grates on my nerves. "A moment, please." I pause, reluctantly facing him. His eyes, however, are fixed on Xevas, roaming over her form in a way that makes my skin crawl. My maternal instincts flare and I resist the urge to step between them.

"Eyes up here, Knight Skywalker," I say coolly, drawing his attention back to me. His gaze snaps to mine, a fleeting look of embarrassment crossing his features.

"Apologies, Master," he says, not sounding sorry at all. "I just wanted to say... I think you're right. About Darth Relic, I mean. The Council is being too cautious."

I raise an eyebrow, surprised despite myself. "Is that so?"

He nods eagerly. "Absolutely. I hope our paths cross again. Perhaps we could... discuss strategy?"

The way his eyes flick back to Xevas makes his true intentions clear. My jaw clenches.

"That won't be necessary," I reply, turning away. "Come, Xevas."

As we walk, I lean close to my daughter. "Stay far away from that man," I murmur. "He is not to be trusted."

Xevas nods, her expression troubled. "I sensed something... off about him. Like he was hiding something."

"Trust your instincts," I tell her, proud of her perceptiveness. "They will serve you well in the days to come."

We step out into the rain, leaving the Temple and the Jedi Order behind us. Whatever lies ahead, we'll face it together.

*****

King Skywalker POV

I step out of the Jedi Temple, the rain splattering against my dark robes. I pull my hood up, shielding my face from the downpour. The encounter with Master Vexas and her alluring Padawan is still fresh in my mind as I set off down the bustling streets of Coruscant.

'She would do well to join my harem like the others. Perhaps because she is not a slave, she will not want to? Once she understands how nice and strong I am, I'm sure she'll fall head over heels with me.'

As I weave through the crowded walkways, holographic advertisements flicker and dance, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the rain-slicked duracrete. The air is thick with the mingled scents of exotic spices, sizzling meats, and engine exhaust.

'I thought I'd be used to this by now, but since being born again, it's hard to take in.'

My eyes scan the storefronts, searching for a particular establishment. There, nestled between a Twi'lek-run cantina and a seedy-looking pawn shop, is a small diner with a faded sign that reads "Authentic American Cuisine" in English, which somehow is also Galactic basic.

The unfitting eatery sticks out like a sore thumb amidst the eclectic Coruscanti architecture. Which is it's purpose. It is supposed to draw people like me in.

'I gotta check again today. Make sure no one else can challenge my goal of becoming the strongest Jedi and building the perfect Harem of Jedi women!' I think about my goals as I enter a restaurant.

The interior is a time capsule from another life. Checkered linoleum floors, red vinyl booths, and chrome-trimmed tables. A vintage jukebox in the corner plays tinny tunes that seem to emanate from another dimension.

'Actually, it's just Dexter Jettster's restaurant basically, so it's not un-star wars, but you can get real Italian food here, so who cares.'

The owner, a balding, middle-aged human with a friendly face, looks up from the counter. "Well, if it isn't young King!" he greets me, his voice carrying a peculiar accent. "What brings you in today?"

I approach the counter, lowering my hood. "Hey, Sal," I say casually. "Just needed a break from Temple life, you know?"

Sal nods understandingly. "Of course, of course. It's not easy being a Jedi, I imagine."

I lean in closer, speaking in a conspiratorial whisper. "Listen, Sal... have any more like us shown up in the last month?"

The owner's expression turns serious. He glances around the empty diner before shaking his head. "No, kid. Not lately, since the last one. But I'll keep my eyes peeled, don't you worry."

I sigh, feeling a mix of relief and disappointment. "Thanks, Sal. I appreciate it."

'I would love to find someone that came over with the smuggler class. I'm so tired of having to fly the ships myself. I would really love it to be a girl that could join my harem.' My mouth waters at the thought of winning over someone from my old world.'

'I wonder if this Darth Relic guy will even be willing to put up a fight? So far, everyone I've come across, even when I was a kid, was no match for my pay-to-win strength. Oh well, If the Council assigns me to fight him, I'll give him an early grave.'

"Now, what can I get for you? The usual?"

I slide into a nearby booth, the red vinyl squeaking beneath me. "Yeah, I'll have the spaghetti and meatballs. And a Coke, if you've got it."

"Coming right up!" Sal calls, disappearing into the kitchen.

As I wait for my meal, my thoughts drift back to Xevas. 'She was certainly something else, wasn't she? My poor slaves tonight will have a tough time settling me down.' I laugh to myself.