Martial law to quell religious war.
And they wonder why the initial
peace talks failed.
I rubbed the back of my neck, wincing.
Unreleased tension knotted
my muscles and stiffened my joints. The Force-currents here --
especially at the governor's mansion--felt slimy, moved sluggishly.
Even the air felt stale.
Ironic--as a child I'd loathed meditation.
Few things bored me faster
than sitting in one position and thinking of one thing for an
hour or
more. Now, I'd cheerfully trade minor body organs in order to
restore
my center.
I wanted off this planet. The
Order's wisest, the Republic's greatest
diplomats, and the Guardians of the Mind's Eye together couldn't
end
this war. No amount of words could change hearts that had embraced
hatred.
The recorder wands lay on my worktable,
evidence of concentration
camps and mass graves. I didn't want to send for Qui-Gon...but
oath
and duty demanded it.
~Finis~