This old phantom-class interceptor has seen better days. It was a relic in an age of relics, once the top of the line it had been sent off to the graveyard of decommissioned vessels nearly a thousand years ago during the Sith Empire’s war with the Old Republic. During the days of the Imperium one had been gifted to the would-be Emperor, Dolph Kueller, as an offering of friendship between old rivals. Since that time it has been retrofitted with all the latest, greatest upgrades that Imperium research and development could load in the power grid, while still keeping the ship space worthy.
Until a month ago, it had actually been in space upon its own power twice. Once to test the refit, then to find Her in the darkness of space where she took herself to deal with her madness. It’s third trip into the endless abyss of space was during the escape from Stonia, under the untrained hand of a boy too young to have even been given time in a flight simulator. Now, little more than a month later, it’s once polished armor is scored with more pits and carbine scuffs than a vessel with a hundred times as many trips into space.
This is the first time, since leaving their Home, that they’ve had a moment to take a breath. Not that a son of Kueller would consider taking a breath, however needed it was.
“Father, I’ve been able to correlate the star charts from the Knightmare, with the last known attack vectors this upstar First Order was taking. They’re not attacking any of the tertiary supply stocks, which means they most likely don’t even know of them. If we designate one of the tertiary stockpiles as a fallback point, we could link what’s left of the defense fleet, to the expeditionary fleet and….”
If he had bothered to look up for even a moment, he most likely would not have even gotten that far into his plotting. As it is, he comes up so short that if his Father was anyone else at all there would be laughter. This vessel only has room for a captain’s quarters and a joint crew compartment that easily services six. With a crew of two, they’ve each gotten their own room, but you wouldn’t know from how often Anwyn barges in wherever he pleases. This time he finds himself standing amid a bedroom that has technological marvels, but is covered from head to toe by candles.
“…if something is wrong with the lighting array, I’m sure we could…” His voice unsure, his tone giving away his confusion, Anwyn is very afraid that even though his father survived, that he’s losing him to insanity.
“There is nothing wrong with the array, boy,” in the middle of the room comes a voice that is somber, but wholly his father’s. “I’m meditating.”
“I.. t-thought your wounds were healed, Father, the droids said…”
“It is not a healing trance, boy, I’m clearing my mind so that I can decide what we’re going to do next.” It’s questionable whether he manages to contain his contempt for his son’s impatience, but the deep sigh that comes afterwards is very telling of how hard he is trying. “Anwyn, we must…”
“That’s what I came to talk about. Didn’t you hear what I was saying? We could…”
One interruption creates another. Anwyn’s jaw clacks shut very suddenly, very audibly. Whether it was from some unseen touch of his Father’s will or simply done because of the look that is given to him by the emerald eyes of the man who had once commanded legions? No one is likely ever going to know the truth, beyond the simplicity of the fact that Anwyn stopped speaking immediately and did not interrupt again this day.
“You rush to every choice, then you make it without contemplation for the repercussions of the choice you choose. The Darkside of the Force thrives upon the emotions, the impatience, that well within you. You see that as strength, but you are a child. One that knows nothing of true power, Anwyn.” Though he might be attempting to reign in that irritation, it is clear that the dynamic of their discussion will not be allowed to continue at the pace it was going before. “Nor will you, if you continue the path you’re set upon. Meditation clears the mind. It gives clarity of choices without the influence of emotion.”
“If we go and link up with the Fleet, we will have a basis of power, but to what end? How does that accomplish finding your Sister? It gives us resources, but it simply makes the target upon us larger. It even further risks the lives of those on the vessels we might seek refuge.”
A wave of the hand tells Anwyn the truth, his Father has already considered what he came here to discuss. He didn’t need to correlate data, because he’d been the one at the table planning those forces deployments before the attack. This should soothe Anwyn, but it only frustrates him further. If a decision was made, why then are they sitting aimlessly in space? Why are they not moving to their next point of action? Something must be done, before they lose everything.
“Your thoughts always betray you, boy. We have already lost everything. It’s gone. It may never return. It surely will not, if we act purely upon fear or anger.”
“Father you destroyed a City. If you would just stop holding back. Elaysia and I could help you and Mother. We can…”
“Die. You can die, Boy. Needlessly. Pointless. You cannot even control your thoughts, but you yearn to prove yourself a Master of the Sith, simply because your Mother trained you in how to not cut your arm off with a lightsaber.” His Father rises from the floor as he speaks. What happened, at the end, on Almania has left him looking as worse for wear as the ship itself. Regardless of what the droids have said, Dolph Kueller, his Father is not back to his prime. “You asked about the Candles. A life-time ago my first Master, Barak, brought me to a room like this one. ”
“He told me that I could only be a Master of the Force, if I could extinguish every flame in the room. At the same time. Without destroying the contents of the room or anything in it. Of course, I immediately thought to use the force to create a gust of wind… but Master Barak showed me that a gust of wind would also knock several of the candles over. Their flames would ignite the flammable materials in the room. Water, I said… use the Force to alter the flow of Weather and… Master Barak pointed out that the rain would also destroy much else in the room.”
“I was certain then, that the answer would be Fire. With control, the Force can be used to kindle a spark into flame or stoke a fire into an inferno. Surely, I’d be able to use the power of the Force to simply snuff the flames out.” Though Anwyn is but a boy, he already has followed in his Father’s footsteps by growing to nearly six feet. It is for that reason that he is always that much more impressed by his Father’s ability to loom over him as he’s doing now. “My Master laughed and gave me the chance to try. A single candle can be extinguished, perhaps two or ten… there were nearly a hundred in the room. Fire is an Agent of Chaos, Anwyn, following it’s insanity to connect with it and convince it to surrender it’s life? A challenge. Doing so a hundred times, all at once? Pure madness.”
“You wish to have a voice? You wish to make the decisions? Sit in this room in this room, until you have the answer. If you accomplish my old Master’s test, I will accept your input. Until then, you are a child. My child, yes, but still a child. You will do as you’re told, when you are told,” that voice of Dolph’s has dropped to something dark, dangerous, even in spite of his obvious state of weariness. He beckons Anwyn to the room. “Unless you believe you can master Barak’s challenge?”
“All of those flames? Without harming anything else in the room? What about ice? Could we freeze them? I suppose that would…”
“There is no ‘We’, Anwyn. There is only my will, my whims and what I will do to achieve them. You would do very well to understand that anything that impedes my return to your Mother and Sister, is… extraneous. You would do well to strive not to be that.”
Harsh, but again there is a gesture toward the room of candles by the elder of the two Kuellers. Anwyn’s face screws up in thought, considering the way he would attempt to complete the task. After a moment the boy looks up, smiling, a considerable belief that he’s solved the puzzle. Hours later, when the boy returns to find his Father in the mess-hall, preparing some sort of evening meal, there is no swagger remaining.
“It’s not possible, you tricked me. Everything I’ve tried fails. Chilling the room nearly killed your plants. The suppression system being triggered would damage everything. I started to use a lightsaber, but the damnable candles are at so many varied degrees and angles… it can’t be done. You’ve had me chasing my tail, so you could go back to meditating like a Jedi.”
“Mm, so you failed and that too is someone else’s fault?”
“No, it’s an impossible challenge.”
“How shocking, that you would be so correct in your failure, that you cannot accept the wisdom of learning from it. You cannot Master the Force, Anwyn. That was Barak’s lesson and you’ve failed to grasp it. Because your impatience forbids you from learning from failure. That is why you are not ready. That is why you should have stayed with your Mother, nursing at her teat until you were more like your Sister…”
There it is. Anger. Resentment. Hatred. Something inside the boy just broke. His hand actually moves toward the hilt resting upon his hip. For just a moment Dolph believes he will actually use it. Just a moment though, because the Boy remembers the sight of Stonia washing away in the sea of lightning that was unleashed upon it. Even in the state of the Father, there is a chance that he isn’t weak enough yet.
“Good, you do understand patience after all. Go, set course for Tattoine. With any luck, your Mother will be there waiting.”