Joining the Medical Corps was, without question, the best strategic decision I had made in this new life. The Service Corps, unlike the main Jedi Order, was actually well liked by the general public. It wasn't uncommon to hear rumors of the Jedi kidnapping, abducting, or manipulating children, accusations born out of their rigid training methods and their cultural detachment. While the Jedi were undoubtedly respected for their power, they were rarely genuinely liked, especially among the forgotten inhabitants of the lower levels of Coruscant.
The common man had almost zero positive interaction with a main line Jedi, yet most had heard the legendary, idealized stories of the Order. Justice, honor, and galactic peace were their standard calling cards. But the common people who lived in the crushing poverty of the lower levels could not reconcile this grand rhetoric with the palpable injustice they faced every day: the rampant crime, the roaming gangs that took what they wanted, and the constant violence. All of this was happening right in front of the Jedi Temple, or more precisely, right under the Temple's immense foundation.
The common people could only see that the Jedi allowed trillions of individuals to suffer on their doorstep without offering tangible help or even seeming to care. The masses didn't need to be told the Jedi were saviors; they simply knew that the Order's massive power and consequent inaction had resulted in perpetual suffering.
The Service Corps, in contrast, enjoyed far superior public relations. This contrast was a profound lesson for me. Personal power was incredibly valuable, but one bad turn, one perceived moral failure, could instantly turn the public against you. I needed a permanent, reliable public relations team or, at the very least, a consistently positive image in the eyes of the normal, everyday people.
I immediately put my plan into action. Using the medical droids I had scavenged from the warship hulk, I set up three basic general practitioner facilities in the lower, densely populated levels of Coruscant.
I charged a very low price to see the medical droid, just enough to cover the minimal running cost of the facility and the droid's operating expenses. It was an odd societal quirk that if you offered free medical care in this society, people instantly felt a great distrust toward the service, suspecting cheapness or a scam. Charge them a nominal price, however, and they immediately believed it was their God given right to use the facility and would, if necessary, fight to protect it.
I named the operation simply, Bee's Medical Care.
It was popular, perhaps too popular, too quickly. Bee's Medical Care was instantly swamped by the masses. I initially thought this crushing popularity was going to be a huge problem until the pressure worked entirely to my advantage.
Local gangs, seeing the new operation as a source of revenue, started to muscle their way in and tried to take over the facilities.
"This is our territory, tin can," a gang leader, a hulking Rodian, sneered at the medical droid inside one facility, trying to kick over the diagnostic scanner. "Start coughing up credits or we shut you down."
But before the droid could even respond, a maintenance worker who relied on the service grabbed the Rodian's arm. "You leave the doc alone! This is the only place we can afford to get patched up!"
A single, normal person would be terrified of the bully tactics and physical violence of the gangs. But this was not a single person; it was a mob, a collective of thousands of strong, ordinary citizens, and those poor, defenseless people transformed into berserker warriors the moment something truly good and useful was threatened to be taken away from them. The gangs were quickly and violently ejected by the very people they preyed upon.
The money generated was good, if not individually substantial. However, the accumulation of many small incomes quickly built into a substantial, reliable cash flow. All of this was happening while simultaneously painting a heroic and selfless picture of my character in the public eye. I made the immediate decision to reinvest every single credit back into the business.
This created a wonderful, powerful feedback loop: I bought more new medical droids, established a new General Practitioner facility, and raked in more cash. Rinse and repeat. Every week, a new, operational medical room was installed in a high density area.
It was super cheap to set one up because of the ubiquitous, standardized technology this galaxy had to offer. The greatest fixed cost was the droids themselves, and sadly, the initial scavenging operation had been a matter of luck. I had to pay full price for brand new medical units now.
All the complex, technical sides of running a rapidly expanding medical empire were expertly taken care of by my personal statistical and managerial droids. With a couple of careful, coded commands, the droids could competently oversee the entire business, manage payroll, track inventory, and calculate profit margins.
The biggest recurring problems came not from crime, but from political pressure applied by greedy legislators, ministers, and statesmen who suddenly wanted to impose regulations or claim a cut of the profits.
One day, a Coruscant Sector Regulator, dressed in an expensive suit, arrived at my Temple quarters. "Young Initiate, the Senate requires that your 'Bee's Medical Care' facilities comply with the new licensing protocols. That will be a fee of five hundred thousand credits per location."
I simply handed him my Jedi Service Corps credentials. "The facilities are run by the Jedi Service Corps, dedicated to humanitarian aid. Perhaps you should discuss your 'new regulations' with the Council of Reconciliation."
The Regulator quickly swallowed. "Ah. The Jedi. Right. I... I see the Service Corps designation now. My apologies for the misunderstanding. Carry on." He quickly retreated, his greed tempered by fear of the Jedi.
As more and more medical rooms popped up across the lower levels, my name grew in fame and positive association. Fortunately, that wasn't the only thing that grew. Thanks to the constant presence of my personal floating medical nurse droid, my dedicated use of Force Enlightenment, and the intensive teaching from real Masters who were dedicated to mending the body, my skills in the healing arts grew exceptionally fast.
"You must feel the connection, Initiate," Master Tera Sinube, a quiet healer, advised me during a training session. "Do not simply apply the Force; allow the living energy to flow through you and convince the cells to mend."
The Masters focused on teaching me how to use the Force in different, subtle ways to encourage delicate, accelerated improvements on the body's natural state. They taught me the impossible art of stitching severe wounds together using the very power of the Force, and how to scan and guide the healing process using the inconceivable precognition and heightened awareness that all Force users possessed.
The smooth and gentle application of Force Control and Force Sense skills necessary for this work grew like a determined weed in the most fertile of grounds.
Concurrently, my helpful nurse droid taught me the intrinsic, intricate design of living bodies, focusing on the complex chemical and biological reactions that drive life and injury. This dual training taught me the healing arts of precise, necessary surgical cuts and the brutal, yet necessary, nature of strategically destroying selective damaged parts to increase the overall healing efficiency.
All of this varied, intense experience consolidated under the banner of Force Enlightenment, leading to a massive, continuous growth curve. I began to apply what I had learned not just externally, but to my own body.
I started with small, subtle augmentations that complemented my Force abilities. Moving faster with the Force was a basic ability that all users had, and yet, it turned into something entirely unique and vastly more efficient when the body of a Force user was augmented with self administered medicine, an overly trained physical state, and Force stimulated exercise. This principle held true for any part of the body, including the most complex organ of all: the mind.
I realized that I probably wasn't the most innately powerful or efficient person to ever wield Force powers, but it truly boggled my mind how many different cross discipline combinations and synergistic training methods there were just to increase one's raw Force abilities. Yet, absolutely no one in the Jedi Order seemed to be taking advantage of these methods. Their total loss is, I suppose, my complete gain.