Legacy of the Shadow of the Jedi | REMAKE |

23. Influence

|| Location: Corusca Sector, Coruscant system , Coruscant||

|| Timeline: 44 BBY ||

The room was quiet except for the faint hum of the Coruscant skyline outside the window. I sat in meditation, but my thoughts drifted, not to the present but to the past—those moments that had shaped me, defined my path, and left scars that no healing trance could mend.

My life as a Jedi had taken me to the far reaches of the galaxy, often alone, in pursuit of ancient relics and hidden knowledge. The Council referred to me as a "shadow," a guardian of secrets, a protector in the dark. It was a title I accepted, though it came with a solitude that I sometimes resented. I hunted artifacts not for power but to ensure they did not fall into the wrong hands, hands that would twist them into tools of destruction. My work was necessary, but it kept me at a distance, always in the shadows, rarely in the light.

Yet, despite the importance of my duties, there were things I wished I had done differently—things I regretted deeply.

The most profound of these regrets was sending my daughter away. Liora and I had always known that our relationship was a dangerous secret, one that could never be revealed. The Code forbade attachment, yet we had found solace in each other, a bond that neither of us could deny. When our daughter was born, we made the painful decision to send her to Chandrila, to my parents, where she could grow up safe, away from the dangers that surrounded us.

It was the right choice, or so I told myself. But as the years passed, the ache of that decision grew. I missed seeing her grow, hearing her voice, and watching her discover the world. The galaxy is not kind to the children of Jedi, and I knew that by keeping her hidden, I was giving her the chance to forge her own path, free from the burdens of the Order. Still, the thought of her out there, living a life I could never be part of, weighed heavily on me.

My mind shifted to more immediate concerns—the Mandalorian civil war and the recent reports about Death Watch. Their leader had informed the Jedi Council of Mandalorians murdering political activists, and in exchange for their services, the governor had promised to reveal Death Watch's location. The clans' internal strife and their willingness to cross such lines were deeply troubling. I had seen wars like this before, conflicts born of pride and a thirst for power. The Mandalorians were fierce, their warriors unmatched, but if this war continued, I feared it would not remain contained. It could ignite another crusade, one that would draw the Jedi into a conflict we could not avoid. I had fought in wars before; I knew the cost, the lives lost, and the destruction left in their wake.

There was a time when I believed the Jedi could stand apart from such conflicts, that we could be guardians of peace without becoming warriors. But the galaxy had a way of pulling us into its struggles, and now, more than ever, I feared that we were on the brink of another era of war. The Mandalorian civil war, combined with Death Watch's actions, could be the spark, and I did not know if the Jedi were ready for what might come next.

As I opened my eyes, I knew that these were not just idle thoughts—they were warnings. The galaxy was changing, and I would need to be ready, not just as a Jedi but as a protector, a shadow. There was still much to do and little time to do it.

But even as I prepared for the challenges ahead, a part of me lingered on thoughts of my daughter, of the life she was leading far from the conflicts and secrets that defined mine. I had given her a chance at freedom, but at what cost? The price of my choices weighed heavily on me, and I knew that no matter what I did, some shadows would never leave me.

The council chamber was quiet as I entered, the air heavy with the weight of impending decisions. The members of the High Council sat in their seats, their faces a mix of concern and contemplation. At the center of the chamber stood Grand Master Yoda, his ancient eyes watching me with a keen awareness that never failed to unsettle me, even after all these years.

I had been summoned to discuss the troubling reports concerning the Mandalorians on Galidraan and their recent actions. The Mandalorians, led by the formidable Tor Vizsla, were implicated in the murder of political activists—a move that suggested a broader agenda of intimidation and control. Their leader had struck a deal with a local governor, promising valuable information on Death Watch in exchange for their violent services. This new alliance, combined with the Mandalorians' rising influence, presented a significant threat to the stability of the sector and the Republic as a whole.

"Master Kodo," Yoda began, his voice steady and measured. "Troubling reports, we have received. Mandalorian, growing stronger, they are. A threat, they pose to the Republic?"

I took a breath, gathering my thoughts before I spoke. "Yes, Grand Master. The Mandalorians are no mere insurgent group. They are a well-trained, well-armed faction, and their leader, Tor Vizsla, is a dangerous man. Their recent actions on Galidraan and the deal with the governor show their intent to expand their influence. If left unchecked, they could destabilize the entire sector."

Master Windu, who was often invited to these discussions due to his growing reputation, leaned forward, his eyes sharp. "What do you propose, Master Kodo? The Jedi are peacekeepers, not soldiers."

I nodded, acknowledging his point. "That is true, Master Windu. But we have faced threats like this before. The Mandalorian Crusade during the Revan era was a devastating conflict that nearly tore the galaxy apart. The Mandalorians are relentless, and if they are allowed to grow unchecked, they could spark another war—one that the Republic is not prepared for."

The room was silent as the Council absorbed my words. I could see the doubt in some of their eyes, the hesitation to involve the Jedi in another conflict. But I knew what I was asking for, and I knew it was necessary.

"Master Dooku has already begun gathering a task force," I continued. "He has handpicked a group of capable Jedi who are ready to intervene, should the Council approve. We must act before they can consolidate their power. A decisive strike now could prevent a full-scale war later."

Among the council members, Master Yoda's voice, calm and thoughtful, spoke up. "You believe this situation warrants such an aggressive response, Master Kodo? The Jedi have always sought to avoid war."

"I understand the concerns, Master," I replied. "But we cannot afford to be passive in the face of this threat. The Mandalorians respect strength. If we show weakness, they will exploit it. We must demonstrate that the Republic, and the Jedi, are not to be trifled with."

Yoda closed his eyes, his mind deep in thought. The others exchanged glances, the weight of the decision pressing down on them. Finally, Yoda opened his eyes, his gaze meeting mine.

"Grave, the situation is," Yoda said slowly. "Agree, the Council does, that action must be taken. But caution, we must exercise. Approve, we do, of Master Dooku's task force. But peace, our priority must remain. To negotiate, attempt first, you will."

I bowed my head in acknowledgment, though I could feel the tension in my chest. Negotiation was always the preferred path, but I knew the Mandalorians well enough to understand that they might not be willing to talk.

"Thank you, Grand Master. I will do all I can to resolve this peacefully," I said, though I knew that peace was unlikely.

As I left the chamber, my thoughts returned to the Mandalorian Civil War. It had started as a series of small skirmishes, but it was rapidly escalating. The Mandalorians' ambitions were a dangerous echo of the past, and I feared that history might repeat itself.

The galaxy had seen too many wars, too much bloodshed. But despite my fears, I knew that the Jedi had a responsibility to protect the Republic, even if that meant taking up arms once again.

As I made my way to the hangar, where Master Dooku and his task force were preparing to depart, I couldn't shake the feeling that this mission would be a turning point—not just for the Jedi, but for the entire galaxy. The shadows were gathering once more, and it was my duty to confront them, no matter the cost.

But as I steeled myself for the mission ahead, I couldn't help but think of my son, safe on Chandrila, far from the dangers that seemed to follow me everywhere I went. I had sent him away to protect him, but in moments like this, I wondered if I had made the right choice.

The galaxy was a dangerous place, and it was becoming more dangerous by the day. I only hoped that I could protect it long enough for my son to grow up in a world where the Jedi were still the guardians of peace, and not warriors forced to fight another war.