The sudden realization of being stranded on an enemy battleship, with zero chance of immediate rescue, hit me with a chilling clarity. My blood seemed to drain from my head, pooling at my feet. I felt sluggish and profoundly weak.
My entire arsenal of specialized equipment my spy drones, my custom slugthrower, my hidden energy shield was all aboard the stolen transport shuttle that the Jedi Masters had used to make their hasty, unforgivable retreat. Now, my immediate fate rested entirely on luck, a variable I despise and refuse to trust.
I forced myself to walk with purpose, not going in any particular direction, but maintaining a technician's gait. I needed to project the immediate illusion that I belonged here, that I was not a stray stowaway.
As I moved through the chaotic corridors, I saw dark side personnel rushing to their assigned jobs, attempting to contain the damage the Jedi had wrought. Whenever I saw a pack of troopers or a low-level dark side apprentice coming my way, I immediately paused and pretended to do some maintenance on a wall conduit, my demeanor stressed but focused.
As I worked to blend in, my mind raced back to the images of the Jedi stealing whatever artifact the Brotherhood of Darkness was protecting. Or were they worshipping it?
I forced a mental flick back to the security image loop I'd recorded on my holo-bracelet. The room that held the artifact was still the central nexus of activity. The injured Jedi who had been left behind had, predictably, fortified their position, and the battleship's troopers had amassed outside, ready to launch a massive frontal assault.
An idea popped into my head. It was so stupid, so utterly audacious, that it might actually work.
I broke into a purposeful run toward the fortified room, shedding the engineer's uniform and belt as I ran. In one fluid motion, I pulled out a freshly acquired, previously hidden lightsaber. It was a standard hilt, but the crystal was a deep, virulent red.
As I approached the large pack of troopers and Dark Side allies who were poised to attack, they instantly turned on the spot, weapons raised, ready to kill the intruder. The dark side allies are jumpy, hyper-aggressive, and ready to kill at the drop of a hat.
I made absolutely certain they knew I meant business by activating my new, stolen lightsaber. A beam of lethal red light flashed out, ready to slice and dice. Here's the critical thing about red Kyber crystals: no one immediately questions if you are a dark side user if you wield a red lightsaber, and anyone light or dark can use them.
On this battleship, owned and crewed by the Brotherhood and their allies, the red lightsaber instantly became an all-purpose, unquestionable multipass. But just in case anyone thought otherwise, I violently Force Pushed the nearest group of troopers against the wall, gave them a guttural, commanding order to "Stay out!", and entered the room.
Inside, I was instantly met with a furious attack. While a red lightsaber gives you unlimited access on a battleship like this, it can also get you killed by an over-anxious Jedi who only sees the crimson of the blade.
I was fortunate that my light side attacker was a Padawan. If it had been a full Jedi Knight, they would have followed up the first strike with an immediate flurry of disorienting, focused attacks. Luckily for me, I was able to block the first overhead hit with the basic energy shield I had salvaged and secretly installed under my robes. The stun of the unexpected defense caused the Padawan to freeze for a critical moment, and I instantly followed up by Force Pushing him away from me.
"Stay down, kid," I ordered, keeping the red blade active.
The Padawan was shocked, but not nearly as much as the wounded Jedi Knight. They knew exactly who I was; they had seen me healing their wounds just hours before. Now I wielded a red lightsaber and used aggressive techniques. I could sense the instant, terrified conclusion in their minds: the Healer had fallen to the dark side.
"Bailo! What in the Force are you doing?" the wounded Knight managed, pushing himself up on one elbow.
Before another trigger-happy Jedi could attack, I quickly deactivated the red lightsaber and let it drop to the floor. I activated my familiar, orange-bladed lightsaber. "The same thing you are, Master. Surviving. Now listen carefully, we don't have time for a crisis of conscience. We've been abandoned."
The following plan had to be executed with lightning speed. With a brief, ruthless outline, I persuaded the shocked Jedi to follow my lead. I left the room, followed closely by the wounded Jedi who were now wielding the lightsabers of the dead dark side users who had fallen to the earlier assault.
It was ridiculously simple to fool the outside troopers. All it took was a lot of convincing noise from the Jedi, the red lightsabers, and the Jedi swapping their robes for the simple, dark-colored fatigues of the fallen Brotherhood fighters.
"The Jedi are neutralized! Containment has failed, but the immediate threat is eliminated!" I barked at the stunned platoon leader, my voice amplified by the Force to sound harsh and authoritative.
The troopers, already exhausted and confused by the high-profile breach, left us alone. With a single, devastatingly simple command, I ordered them to flush the dead Brotherhood members out into space, convinced that the bodies were those of the defeated Jedi.
"Clear the hangar bay! Prepare the disposal cycle! We don't want their filth contaminating the ship!" I roared.
If I had enough time, I would have liked to use the battleship's extensive healing facilities to help the wounded Jedi, but I didn't know how long the dark side users who went after the artifact would stay away. The time to strike was now, while the command structure was focused elsewhere.
We swiftly freed the other captured Padawans, captured the thinly manned bridge, and sealed off the docking bay. It was shockingly easy. That was the profound beauty of a corrupted, rigid chain of command: I ordered, and they obeyed, thanks to the red lightsabers and the manufactured chaos.
I had essentially taken over a battleship with very little loss of life mostly the original invading party. The added icing to the cake was that if any of the Brotherhood of Darkness chase ships returned, they would find empty space where the battleship used to be. It was very likely that the chasers would be left adrift in the cold deadness of space with dwindling fuel. I had destroyed a pack of dark side users without firing a single shot. Whatever that artifact was, it had cost them their lives.
++++++++
I and the rescued Jedi contingent managed to pilot the colossal battleship, now under my temporary command, into allied space. Using some of the special codes and command overrides I had secretly extracted from the bridge's main console, we were able to safely hand the warship over to Republic military officials. However, before that transfer was complete, I carried out one final, cold act of self-preservation.
"Padawan," I ordered one of the rescued Initiates who was operating the weapons panel, "lock the bridge doors. Maximum security seal." The young Padawan, still shell-shocked but compliant from the mission, obeyed instantly.
I personally executed the handful of surviving Brotherhood officers on the bridge just moments before handing the ship over. It was a final, chilling act of cold pragmatism eliminating any loose threads that might reveal my advanced methods or the critical security codes I had memorized. Dead men tell no tales, and silent officers reveal no secrets.
This calculated action earned me a one-way ticket to prison.
"You understand what you've done, Initiate?" Master Valerius stood over me in the medical bay after our return, his face a mask of disappointment, the Force around him coiled tightly. "Those men were prisoners. Under our protection. Why did you murder them?"
I didn't flinch, even as a pair of Jedi Knights moved to flank me. "Master, they were not 'men'; they were officers in command of a warship designed for mass murder. They were in possession of critical military codes and operational procedures that I needed to prevent from reaching the enemy. Furthermore, they had detailed knowledge of my methods for taking the ship. The intelligence they held was a far greater risk than any ethical dilemma. They knew too much."
"That is the logic of a Dark Sider, Initiate," the Master accused, his voice rising.
"It is the logic of self-preservation and efficiency," I countered, my voice calm but unwavering. "Did I not just save you and a dozen others from the Brotherhood's hands? The interrogation awaiting the Padawans was torture until submission or death. I saved you from a fate worse than death. And I secured a battleship."
"You did not have the authority to act as executioner!"
"And yet, here we stand, alive, thanks to my 'unauthorized' actions," I finished, allowing a trace of bitterness into my voice. "The ship is secure, the prisoners are free, and my tactics remain secret. My actions ensured the survival of your Order's people."
It didn't matter. Despite saving them from an inevitable, horrible fate, the Jedi chose to imprison me.
"The Jedi can suck it," I thought bitterly, feeling the cold cuffs snap around my wrists.
Even the Jedi I saved didn't stand up for me. I could sense their fear and suspicion. They were afraid of the dark side and terrified that my ruthlessness meant I would eventually fall to it. They might have executed me on the spot if not for the fundamental, protective teachings of the light side. And yet, I knew that piety wouldn't always save me from a particularly zealous or exhausted Jedi Council.
I've seen what the Jedi will do when backed into a corner, and I've read their history. When it comes to doing what they think is best for the galaxy, they usually just do what they think is best for themselves.
I might have been angry at the imprisonment, but it meant no more fighting or abandonment on enemy battleships, at least for a while. I briefly entertained the thought that I could take over the prison and have my way. The prisoners would fight me on this, but what were they going to do to a Force user?
That was my first, arrogant thought on the matter. I was spectacularly wrong.
"Where are you taking me?" I asked the Jedi escorting me, trying to glean information through my Force Sense.
The Jedi, a young Knight with a face like polished stone, replied coldly, "You are being transported to a secure, extra-Republic facility. Your methods are a danger to the Order's principles, Initiate."
"A danger to your hypocrisy, you mean," I muttered, but I knew the Jedi wouldn't hear me.
I didn't go to a normal prison like the Jedi Temple detention center, but to the most hardcore, inescapable facility in the Republic: The Prism. I had never heard of the place before. It was a secret, hidden from most Jedi. Only the most senior Masters knew about it. I, who had my droids searching the Jedi library for interesting and useful things for years, hadn't even found a hint of it. I only knew about it now because I was being taken there.
And this was the complete end of my trust in the Jedi Order. Wouldn't it have been enough to hold me in the Temple detention center? And yet, here I was, going to the most hardcore, maximum-security, hidden prison known to any Force user.
The Jedi Masters didn't know about the true extent of my abilities or that I had surgically upgraded my body. They just had a knee-jerk reaction to me, a healer, killing enemy officers and saving their own lives in the most efficient manner possible. This was completely unfair. I had seen Jedi Knights kill defenseless dark side users when they refused to give up, with no consequences.
My actions were brutal, yes, but they saved countless lives by keeping my superior tactics secret. Imagine if I hadn't taken over the enemy battleship; it would have been used to attack allied forces. Loss of life was certain battleships were literally made to kill.
My tactics could be used over and over again to save lives by sacrificing a few. The holier-than-thou Jedi weren't willing to use those tactics. Instead, they would send fighter squadrons out to weaken the ship, then send in boarding parties, cutting down any resistance before being repelled or succeeding.
My way protected the fighter pilots, the boarding party, the Padawans, the Jedi, and ultimately, even many of the enemy. Their way caused death on all sides with no certainty that any of it would mean anything.
My way was better.
My way was vastly, undeniably better.
Now, I was paying the price for competence.