Star Wars: From the Clone Wars to Starfaring Heroes

Chapter 35 - Separatism
The orbit of the main planet Lax, the Lax system.

Kalulla Sector.

Paris didn't know how long she had slept, or even when she had fallen asleep.

All she knew was that when she woke up, she felt an unbearable itching in her left arm and waist, and smelled disinfectant and metal in the cold air.

"The surgery is complete, sir," a synthesized voice, devoid of emotion, said. "The patient should wake up soon."

The Jedi Pagan feigned unconsciousness, closed his eyes, and focused his mind, using the Force to perceive his situation.

She felt the deep hum of the medical equipment, the cold touch of the metal walls, and... a shadow moving above her.

In addition, there was another person standing in the hallway outside the room.

A person who can sense the Force is indistinct in the shadows of the dark side.

Is it another Sith?

“Very good,” another voice responded, its tone steady yet carrying an inscrutable emotion. “Well done… Are you awake, Jedi?”

Paris remained motionless, concentrating on keeping her breathing steady and deep, simulating a state of deep sleep.

despair! despair!
I could hear the faint clicking sound of metal joints rubbing together and the hissing sound of a servo motor turning.

She guessed it was a medical robot, retreating from the metal bed.

The person looking down at her... she couldn't sense their presence.

The reason Paris knew exactly where he was was precisely because she couldn't sense him through the Force; she could only sense where he wasn't.

The space he occupies...

There was a palpable chill emanating from it, as if the Force had been drained from that place.

At that moment, a hand wearing a black glove reached out, lifted Paris's limp left arm in front of her face, and then released it.

The arm fell heavily back onto the cold mattress with a dull thud.

“You can’t fool anyone, Paris,” Ryan said, sitting down on a metal folding chair next to him. “I’m pressed for time, so let’s get straight to the point.”

Paris opened her eyes, adjusting to the glaring overhead light, and saw...

"Master Luminara?"

A face that looked remarkably like that of the master Luminara was looking down at her, very close... She stared back at the face in disbelief.

At this moment, Paris realized that the face was not entirely Master Luminara's.

Although their facial features are similar, there are some things that... don't seem right.

What is the angle of the jawline?

The width of the forehead?
An unsettling feeling made her uneasy.

Perhaps it was because Paris couldn't determine the color of her eyes, or the specific shade of her hair.

Or perhaps it's because her smooth skin lacks the distinctive blue Leroy tattoo of Luminara.

Is this a trick by the dark side?
Or is it some kind of illusion?

“I’m flattered, but I’m not her.” Ryan gave a faint smile. “How are you feeling? Is your arm responding normally?”

Paris shifted uneasily on the rough sheets, the metal bed frame creaking slightly in protest. "My arms hurt and itch... Who are you?"

Her voice was a little hoarse.

“Raine, although you’ve been kept on the ship I command, I think this is our first official meeting.” Raine smiled with interest. “Let me help you up.”

She? He?
Ryan reached out and operated a control panel on the side of the bed.

With a slight hiss of the hydraulic system, the upper part of the bed rose, adjusting Paris into a sitting position.

As the woman reached out to work, Paris suddenly noticed a clear separatist gear symbol sewn onto her shoulder, embedded in the dark gray fabric of her uniform.

"Are you a separatist?"

Paris didn't know why her voice sounded so surprised.

"Do I not look like one?" Renn tilted his head, a strand of black hair falling across his forehead. "What do you think a separatist should look like?"

“They look like…” Paris stopped mid-sentence.

alien.

They look like Nemoideans, Kelkoideans, Geonosis, and thousands of other races from the outer ring.

They are despicable and corrupt, serving the degenerate Jedi Master Dooku, and attempting to impose tyranny upon the Republic.

Just like what's said in the holographic network.

In an extremely candid tone, Ryan asked her, "Do you consider yourself a separatist?"

“No!” Parish retorted angrily, her voice booming in the cramped cabin, “Why would I be a separatist?”

“You’re a Miriel,” the separatist told her, his tone as if that explained everything. “Miriel is an important separatist planet. Sector I was one of the first sectors to join the Confederation. I even met Miriel’s senators in the Rotunda of Lax.” “I…” Barris felt her throat go dry and retorted hoarsely, “I’m a Jedi…they can’t speak for me.”

“But you represent them,” Ryan pointed out calmly, his finger lightly tapping on Baris’s bare arm, where Miriel’s spiral tattoo was visible. “You still follow your people’s culture, bearing their mark.”

On behalf of Master Luminara.

That's what Paris wanted to say.

but……

She suddenly realized that she couldn't recall anything about Miriel's affairs or political stance, and that everything she knew about Miriel's culture came from the teachings and demonstrations of Master Luminara.

She also wanted to ask Ryan why Miriel had joined the separatists.

She realized that she had never considered her people before.

“Isn’t it strange?” Seeing her silence, Raine asked and answered himself, “When conflict is presented so directly, it’s easier to incite the public, portraying one side as righteous and the other as evil. As a Jedi, shouldn’t your duty be to understand the truth and defend the truth, instead of parroting the words of those in authority?”

Raine's voice was calm, without accusation, only inquiry.

“But that is the truth,” Paris insisted, her nails digging into her palms. “Count Dooku, as the Sith Lord, wants to destroy the Republic!”

“That’s just his opinion,” Ryan shrugged dismissively. “Not everyone thinks that way. Have you ever thought about what the word ‘separatist’ actually means?”

Paris opened her mouth to retort, but a teaching from Master Luminara echoed in her mind, admonishing her to control her emotions.

This woman...or man?
It was difficult to discern in her vision, but she knew that this human named Ryan wanted to provoke her and make her lose control of her emotions.

If Paris lets him seduce her, then he has won.

Paris took a deep breath, the cold air piercing her lungs and forcing her mind to calm down.

There's no point in reasoning with separatists; they've all been blinded by Dooku's lies.

Whether they know it or not, they are all puppets of the dark side.

Paris kept reminding herself to keep her voice steady, “That’s just you trying to separate from the Republic.”

“That’s it.” Raine nodded in agreement. “It has nothing to do with the Force or with ruling the galaxy. It should be that simple. But… the Republic won’t let us have our way. They’ve sent out an army of clones. Now some of us believe that the only way to achieve separation is to erase the Republic from this equation.”

His tone remained calm, but the content of his words carried a chill.

Just then, a short, rhythmic knocking broke the silence.

Raine rose with a gentle smile, his boots clicking clearly on the metal floor, and continued, “Both sides have moderates and hardliners; some want peace, some want war. My question is, which side does the Jedi Order represent? If you want peace, you should give those who are reasonable a chance to let things move in a positive direction.”

Ryan extended a hand, and Paris hesitated for a moment before carefully taking it. The hand was wearing a thin black glove and felt dry and strong.

Then, using the strength of that hand, he stood up and placed his feet on the cold deck.

"I look forward to working with you."

Raine's voice was very soft.

The door hissed open to the side, revealing a plain-looking human man dressed in a separatist officer's uniform.

He was of medium build, with short, dark brown hair and a weathered face.

Paris's gaze was immediately drawn to the hilt of a lightsaber hanging from his belt.

When she turned her gaze back to Ryan, she noticed that the details of his appearance seemed somewhat blurred, as if they were subtly changing with the angle of the light or the shift in her attention.

Just like the reflection on the water's surface moves.

A word came to her mind.

mask.

"Sir, what are the orders?" the man asked in a deep voice.

“Take her around, Vinok.” Ryan gave Barris’s shoulder a light but firm push. “You two may have been trained by the Jedi, but I’m the commander now, so go and familiarize yourself with the ship and the crew. We’ll be heading to the ‘Rot’ space station in two days.”

After saying that, he turned and walked briskly down the narrow gray corridor, leaving Paris alone with the man known as Vinok.

The corridor was filled with the smells of engine oil, ozone, and recirculated air.

“My name is Vinok.” Vinok’s dark brown eyes swept over Paris with a scrutinizing gaze. “This uniform… looks surprisingly good on you.”

“This uniform…” Paris looked down and realized she was wearing a drab, separatist soldier's uniform, the fabric rough, a lifeless mix of dark and light gray. “Why…”

She reached up to touch her head and found that her headscarf was gone, leaving her bare scalp exposed to the cold air, which made her feel uncomfortable.

Her lightsaber is also missing...

Paris clenched her fists at her sides, trying to hide her anger on her face. "Do you think forcing me to wear this outfit and join you will make a difference? I will never fall into the dark side."

Vinok stroked his stubble-covered chin with his rough knuckles. “We didn’t let you fall into the dark side. Count Dooku already thought you were dead, so we went to all this trouble to keep you out of their sight. I’m sorry to have taken your lightsaber; it was key evidence of your ‘death’… But the ship’s engineering department has the tools to make another lightsaber anytime… Come with me.”

　The characters depicted in this chapter are the same as the characters that Paris saw. There will be differences. I will add a picture to show the actual characters I envisioned!

　　
　
(End of this chapter)