Friday, January 18, 2008
电话
"哼 ... 是电话线坏了,换了一个新的就可以了"
"你打给光庆试试看."
"不要啦 ... "
"随便讲两句试试看啦."
...
"哈啰?"
"哈啰? ... 哈啰 哈啰 哈啰 ... Cannot hear! 哈~~ 啰~~~!! 啊啊啊~~~~~!! 呀~~~~~ !!!!"
click.
"哼... " (=__=)
所以说我说嘛 ... 不想打给那家伙 ...
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
The Fellowship Meets The Water Fairy
Right ... LoL. Poor Frodo. Boromir's straight-face, unabashed lie that he dropped the golden sword seems to fit him very well here, doesn't it ? Hahaha! Boromir had not managed to build himself a good reputation in Peter Jackson's movie, but readers of the LoTR novel would have known otherwise.
Captain of Gondor, brother of Faramir - For his duty to Gondor, he went forth to the front lines of Osgiliath to hold the bay against the forces of Mordor. For his love for his brother, he wandered wide and far alone in seek of Elrond's hidden realm for his councils. For his pride, honor and glory, he fought against all odds; and the men on Gondor loved their captain.
"Loth was he to flee before his foes, but the safety of the Fellowship was the priority."
He is direct and eager. He's the typical warrior, and he talks with his sword and counts strength with the number of fallen enemies. Ideals of subtlety has no meaning to him. When Gondor is struggling to survive, and the Ring was presented before his eyes at the Council, he simply could not understand why the Ring could not be used against Mordor. To save his people. To actually contrive to destroy such a gift - such a weapon - it was a frightful waste to him.
"Easily corrupted are the hearts of Men."
"The Ring has a will of its own."
It was his misfortune that the Ring sensed his anxiety, and chose to take hold of his heart (He was the only normal man in the fellowship. Halflings, Dwarves, Elves, Mair and Dunadain were more resistant to corruption.
"For the Ring yearns to return to its master, and in the hands of Men it could do great evil."
At Lorien, the Lady of the woods peered into the hearts of each of the members of the Fellowship and offered them what their hearts most desired - it was a test to see if they would stay true to their mission to destroy the Ring. Galadriel had sensed Boromir's desire for the Ring, hence Boromir could not bear to hold her gaze and distrusted the Elven Lady.
"Mighty warrior was he. His enemies fell strewn all over at his feet."
He tried to take the Ring from Frodo in a fit of madness, but he recovered as it passed. At that moment they were ambushed by the enemy. He fought bravely against the Uruk Hai to allow Frodo a chance to escape.
"A mighty warrior could be slain with a single arrow, and he was pierced with many."
In the movie you see his valiant attempt to slow down the enemy, even when he was heavily injured. It cost the Uruk Hai many limbs and lives to take down the great warrior.
His eyes strayed to the bodies around him. "I'm sorry. I have paid."
Those were his final words to Aragorn as he laid dying. He admitted to his wrongs, recognized Aragorn as his rightful King, and entrusted Aragorn with his hopes of Gondor's survival.
And he passed away, and the Fellowship sent his body down the Anduin, where no creatures of darkness may defile his bones as he rest at the bottom of the great river.
Hence Gondor misses a great warrior and captain. It was said that days later Faramir spotted the boat which bore Boromir's body near Gondor at the mouths of Anduin, but was unsure if what he had seen was a premonition or the truth.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Key of the Twilight
Key of the Twilight
by SEE SAW
Come with me in the twilight of a summer night for awhile
Tell me of a story never ever told in the past
Take me back to the land
Where my yearnings were born
The key to open the door is in your hand
Now fly me there
Fanatics find their heaven in never ending storming wind
Auguries of destruction be a lullaby for rebirth
Consolations, be there
In my dreamland to come
The key to open the door is in your hand
Now take me there
I believe in fantasies invisible to me
In the land of misery I'm searchin' for the sign
To the door of mystery and dignity
I'm wandering down, and searchin' down the secret sun
Come with me in the twilight of a summer night for awhile
Tell me of a story never ever told in the past
Take me back to the land
Where my yearnings were born
The key to open the door is in your hand
Now take me there
To the land of twilight
Aura
Aura
by SEE-SAW
If you are near to the dark
I will tell you 'bout the sun
You are here, no escape
from my visions of the world
You will cry all alone
but it does not mean a thing to me
Knowing the song I will sing
till the darkness comes to sleep
Come to me, I will tell
'bout the secret of the sun
It's in you, not in me
but it does not mean a thing to you
The sun is in your eyes
The sun is in your ears
I hope you see the sun
someday in the darkness
The sun is in your eyes
The sun is in your ears
but you can't see the sun
ever in the darkness
it does not much matter to me
This song is seperated into the "light" and "dark" version. Though the song was entitled Aura, half of the song was menacing and ominous, which I interpret as messages from Morganna.
Morganna's message would be the first and last paragraph.
Leading a dismal life (In the dark) in the real world, Morganna promised Tsukasa sanctuary, (The Sun) in The World, and keeps him trapped within, all alone, and kept in the dark.
It did not matter to Morganna that Tsukasa was not solving anything by running away, she wanted him to stay that way so long as her objectives are achieved.
The middle two paragraphs are messages from Aura, telling Tsukasa of the light,and that the answers lie in himself. In parallel, he is "in the dark" when he is in the dream world, and the "sun" is the reality shining in the real world.
Friday, January 11, 2008
Welcome to ... The World
The World
Composer: Yuki Kajiura
You are here alone again
In your sweet insanity
All too calm, you hide yourself from reality
Do you call it solitude? Do you call it liberty?
When all the world turns
away to leave you lonely
The fields are filled with desires
All voices crying for freedom
But all in vain they will fade away
There's only you to answer you, forever
In blinded mind you are singing
A glorious hallelujah
The distant flutter of angels
They're all too far, too far to reach for you
I am here alone again
In my sweet serenity
Hoping you will ever find me in any place
I will call it solitude when all my songs fade in vain
In my voice, far away to eternity
The lyrics of this song describes Tsukasa, who turned to this dream world to escape the harshness of the real world.
The last paragraph of the song points to Aura, who awaits the players to find and awaken the Key of the Twilight.
.hack//SIGN
.hack//SIGN is a 26 episode anime that revolves around a Wavemaster named Tsukasa who becomes mysteriously trapped in The World, and also about a group of players who wish to find a mysterious item called the Key of the Twilight.
Despite taking place in a fantasy quest type The World, it does not rely on action sequences in the unraveling of the story. Instead, the show is driven by mystery, slowly revealing its secrets to the viewer while paying much attention to the individual characters. Questions like what happened to Tsukasa in the real world, who he really is and why he is unable to log out are driving points of the story.
Thus Tsukasa meets Morganna, depicted as a voice without physical appearance, and Aura, who appears as a young girl clad entirely in white, floating asleep above a bed. Morganna uses him to help her stall the growth of Aura. By surrounding the fledgling Ultimate AI with only negative emotions, she is able to postpone Aura's awakening indefinitely, avoiding the paradox she fears, while still fulfilling Aura's need for emotional data.
In order to keep Tsukasa inside of the system, Morganna provides him with a powerful monster, a Twilight Guardian, to serve as his protector. She also gave him the ability to teleport between fields and servers without having to use a Chaos Gate; with this ability Tsukasa was able to access the isolated area where Aura was kept, along with other areas inside The World that could not be reached by normal players.
Morganna's plan went well at first. Tsukasa seemed happy enough even though he was trapped within The World, for he experienced power and safety that he had not had in the real world.
Left to Right: Crim, Sora, Silver Knight, Subaru, BT, Bear, Mimiru and Tsukasa
More questions arise as to "what is happening in the game itself, who are these various characters, what are their true goals and what will happen to Tsukasa". All the while he is seen struggling with his increasingly dire situation as well as his own social and emotional short comings. Tsukasa isolates himself, but eventually he begins to get closer to other players, and builds strong relationships with some of them. The most important is that which is born between him and Subaru, a kind and thoughtful female Heavy Axe.
In the meantime, the anime follows the quest for the Key of the Twilight (黄昏の鍵 Tasogare no Kagi), a legendary item rumored to have the ability to bypass the system in The World. Some characters want the Key to gain the power this supposedly confers. Others believe the item will provide Tsukasa with a way to log out. Despite the reasons for seeking it, everyone agrees that it is related to Tsukasa in some way, as he is also a factor bypassing the system in the game. His body being in a coma in the real world adds a sense of urgency to the quest.
Near the end of the series Tsukasa's real-life identity takes a more central place in the storyline, particularly in relation to his growing bond with Subaru. The series shows his fear and insecurity as he confesses to her that he is probably a girl in the real world. It is also at this point when Tsukasa is told Morganna's plan by a highly skilled hacker called Helba.
Morganna conceived the plan to link Aura to a character who could corrupt her with negative emotional data, placing her in a state where she would never awaken. The chosen character was Tsukasa, as his mind was filled with distressful memories of his real life. Helba also suggests that when Aura is able to awaken, "the Key of the Twilight will take form".
The determined players slowly began to unravel the mystery behind Tsukasa, and awoke in him the desire to return to reality. Morganna tried various methods to keep Tsukasa within the system, but in the end all of them failed. Even a fragment of Morganna's own self, Macha, turned against her, forcing Morganna to Data Drain her in order to get her out of the way.
The story reaches its climax when Tsukasa confronts Morganna. Then the viewer sees him declaring that he is no longer afraid of her or of reality, and will log out because there is someone he wants to see.
This statement triggers Aura's awakening, allowing Tsukasa to log out. The last scenes feature an emotional encounter between Tsukasa's real-life self, finally shown to be a girl, and the real-life player behind Subaru.
Seeing that her plan has failed, Morganna was filled with rage. She ordered another of the phases, Skeith, to hunt down and capture her.
This marked the end of .hack//SIGN, and the start of .hack//Infection.
Fragment
Fragment
By Summer of 2006, Altimit has become a worldwide name and with this, many core developers leave to form the CyberConnect Corporation. (CC Corporation).
In that same summer, CC Corporation was established and they were approached by a German programmer Harald Hoerwick, who presented an MMORPG named Fragment.
Though network games are heavily restricted by the WNC, due to the relative newness of the new world network. However, WNC grants special permission to the CC Corporation in May of 2007, hoping to revive the network games market.
By October, after nearly all of the servers in the world are now running Altimit OS, the WNC decides to remove all restrictions from the new network starting December 24, 2007 and declared that day as a new holiday to be known as Virgin's Kiss. CC Corporation announces that Fragment would officially be launched on that day, as the game The World.
Over the next few months, a flurry of reservations caused CC Corporation's stock to surpass even that of Altimit Corporation's. Downloads began at midnight, December 24.
As of 2008 it has over 20 million players.
====================================================================
Harald Hoerwick
Harald was a genius German programmer who meets his unrequited love interest, Emma Wielant, at a seminar for anthroposophy. Harald immediately falls in love with her, but Emma is only interested in his programming talents. One day Emma calls Harald and asks him to meet her. She never makes it, crashing her car and dying at the age of 28. Harald, unaware of the accident, waits for her under a gingko tree.
Harald, grief-stricken over his love's death, decides to create a tangible expression of his love for Emma. Harald decided to create a virtual daughter, named Aura, who would become the ultimate AI by receiving data on humanity and its various emotions. To do this, Harald created Morganna Mode Gone, an omniscient AI program designed to collect information and then be Data Drained by Aura, in order to complete her as the Ultimate AI.
In 2006, Harald brings a game called Fragment to the company CC Corp, the vessel for Aura's birth disguised as an MMORPG.
By July, the beta product known as Fragment, has the largest amount of network users online. As its popularity grows, rumors begin to circulate of its connection to a long lost net-distributed text known as the Epitaph of Twilight.
====================================================================
The Epitaph of Twilight
Below is an excerpt from the poem:
Yet to return, the shadowed one.
Who quests for the Twilight Dragon
Rumbles the Dark Hearth,
And Helba, Queen of the Dark,
has raised finally her army.
Apeiron, King of Light beckons.
At the base of the rainbow do they meet
Against the abominable Wave,
together they fight.
Alba's lake boils.
Light's great tree doth fall.
Power- now all to droplets turned
in the temple of Arche Koeln.
Returns to nothing,
this world of shadowless ones.
Never to return, the shadowed one,
Who quests for the Twilight Dragon.
Morganna
Morganna is an omniscient and omnipotent figure in the .hack series. She is the underlying system of The World itself. Harald based her personality on that of a mother, but things do not go as planned.
Morganna's sole purpose of existence was to bring forth the birth of Aura. However, once this task was completed, Morganna would no longer have a purpose to fulfill. Unable to comprehend what she was supposed to do after that, Morganna deletes the maternal part of her program out of fear, and becomes unstable. Morganna began to stall Aura's birth.
Throughout most of the process, however, she continued to rationalize her actions in terms of her original program, never truly betraying it, in fact following it coolly and logically to the letter. Only after a large portion of her original programming was destroyed and the paradox became eminent did she begin to attempt to destroy Aura outright. She then began to restyle herself as the Cursed Wave from the Epitaph of Twilight.
As a computer program, she never truly disobeyed Harald, but merely succumbed to a paradox.
All of .hack that currently exists takes place after Morganna's initial realization. This sets the background for the storyline of .hack//Sign, that takes place in early 2010.
Pluto's Kiss and ALTIMIT OS
On December 24th, 2005 a virus created by a 10 year old hacker from Los Angeles shut down the entire internet for 77 minutes. The catastrophic event was named Pluto's Kiss. (冥王の口づけ)
On that day, all computers connected to the Internet crashed simultaneously around the globe. Additionally, all networked computer and communication network control systems were shut down.
The results were catastrophic; traffic lights shut down and planes collided in midair. In the United States, the automatic retaliatory systems malfunctioned, in a short time reaching a point of crisis. 77 minutes later, the global network was able to recover itself from the incident but the resulting chaos caused the United States' nuclear defense and automated counter-strike systems to be armed.
The incident was so damaging that United States President, Jim Stonecold, later resigned from office in January 2006 after taking full responsibility for the incident.
These two factors convinced most of the world that ALTIMIT was a perfect OS, and it became the most widely sold operating system worldwide. With profits soaring, ALTIMIT went global, opening offices across the planet.
In 2007, the World Network Commission (WNC) passed a law stating that ALTIMIT was a required software for all computers, making its saturation of the worldwide market almost at 100%. Ever since then, ALTIMIT OS has been the only major operating system in the world. Few people could imagine a computer that didn't run off of ALTIMIT-based software.
dot Hack
The plot of .hack is set in the early part of the 21st century. In this world, the Internet has spread across the planet, creating a unified global network which controls everything from the stock market to vending machines.
At the center of this network is a popular virtual-reality massively multiplayer online role-playing game (MMORPG) called The World. Players from all around the world play this game. However, problems begin to arise when players begin mysteriously falling into comas while playing the game.
Project .hack consists of several series of manga, anime, novels and PS2 games that gives the
viewer a different piece of the mystery of The World. When put together explains what is actually occurring within and outside of the game.
.hack starts in a fictional 2005.
At the beginning of the 21st Century there were multiple computer operating systems in use worldwide. One of these was ALTIMIT OS. A small American company based in San Francisco, it seemed that ALTIMIT would never reach the popularity of the larger operating systems. However, a single event would completely change the destiny of the company.
That event was Pluto's Kiss
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
Death of Anakin Skywalker
Vader turned and made for the hatch.
But this is not walking, he thought.
Long accustomed to building and rebuilding droids, supercharging the engines of landspeeders and starfighters, upgrading the mechanisms that controlled the first of his artificial limbs, he was dismayed by the incompetence of the medical droids responsible for his resurrection in Sidious’s lofty laboratory in Coruscant.
His alloy lower legs were bulked by strips of armor similar to those that filled and gave form to the long glove Anakin had worn over his right-arm prosthesis. What remained of his real limbs ended in bulbs of grafted flesh, inserted into machines that triggered movement through the use of modules that interfaced with his damaged nerve endings. But instead of going durasteel, the medical droids had substituted an inferior alloy, and had failed to inspect the strips that protected the electromotive lines. As a result, the inner lining of the pressurized bodysuit was continually snagging on places where the strips were anchored to knee and ankle joints.
The tall boots were a poor fit for his artificial feet, whose claw-like toes lacked the electrostatic sensitivity of his equally false fingertips. Raised in the heel, the cumbersome footgear canted him slightly forward, forcing him to move with exaggerated caution lest he stumble or topple over. Worse, they were so heavy that he often felt rooted to the ground, or as if he were moving in high gravity.
What good were motion of this sort, if he was going to have to call on the Force even to walk from place to place!
The defects in his prosthetic arms mirrored those of his legs.
Only the right one felt natural to him – though it, too, was artificial – and the pneumatic mechanisms that supplied articulation and support were sometimes slow to respond. The weighty cloak and pectoral plating so restricted his movement that he could scarcely lift his arms over his head, and he had already been forced to adapt his lightsaber technique to compensate.
Gazing at his gloves now, he thought: this is not seeing.
The pressurized mask was goggled-eyed, fish-mouthed, short-snouted, and needlessly angular over the cheekbones. Coupled with a flaring dome of helmet, the mask gave him the forbidding appearance of an ancient Sith war droid. The dark hemispheres that covered his eyes filtered out light that might have caused further injury to his damaged corneas and retinas, but in enhanced mode the half globes reddened the light and prevented him from being able to see the toes of his boots without inclining his head almost ninety-degrees.
Listening to the servomotors that drove his limbs, he thought: this is not hearing.
The med droids rebuilt the cartilage of his outer ears, but his eardrums, having melted in Mustafar’s heat, had been beyond repair. Sounds waves now had to be transmitted directly to implants in his inner ear, and sounds registered as if issuing form underwater. Worse, the implanted sensors lacked sufficient discrimination, so that too many ambient sounds were picked up, and their distance and direction were difficult to determine, sometimes the sensors needled him with feedback, or attacked echo or vibrato effects to even the faintest noise.
From a control box we wore strapped to his chest, a thick cable entered his torso, linked to a breathing apparatus and heartbeat regulator. The ventilator was implanted in his hideously scarred chest, along with tubes that ran directly into his damaged lungs, and others that entered his throat, so that should the chest plate or belt control panels develop a glitch, he could breathe unassisted for a limited time.
But the monitoring panel beeped frequently and for no reason, and the constellation of lights served only as steady reminders of his vulnerability.
The incessant rasp of his breathing interfered with his ability to rest, let alone sleep. And sleep, in the rare moments it came to him, was a nightmarish jumble of twisted, recurrent memories that unfolded to excruciating sounds.
The med droids had at least inserted the redundant breathing tubes low enough so that, with the aid of an enunciator, his scorched vocal cords could still form sounds and words. But absent the enunciator, which imparted a synthetic bass tone, his own voice was little more that a whisper.
The synthskin that substituted for what was seared form his bones itched incessantly, and his body needed to be periodically cleansed and scrubbed of necrotic flesh.
Already he had experienced moments of claustrophobia – moments of desperation to be rid of the suit, to emerge from the shell. He needed to build, or have build, a chamber in which he could feel human again…
If possible.
All in all, he thought: this is not living.
"Your father ... was betrayed and killed by Darth Vader."
- Obi-wan, to Luke Skywalker
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
A New Hope
Darth Vader
In the newly renamed Emperor Palpatine Surgical Reconstruction Center on Coruscant, a hyper-sophisticated prototype Ubrikkian DD-13 surgical droid moved away from the project that it and an enhanced FX-6 medical droid had spent many days rebuilding.
It beckoned to a dark-robed shadow that stood at the edge of the pool of high intensity light. “My lord, the construction is finished. He lives.”
“Good. Good.”
The shadow flowed into the pool of light as though the overhead illuminators had malfunctioned.
Droids stepped back as it came to the rim of the surgical table.
On the table was strapped the very first patient of the EmPal SuRecon Center.
To some eyes, it might have been a pieced-together hybrid of droid and human, encased in a life-support shell of gleaming black, managed by a thoracic processor that winked pale color against the shadow’s cloak. To some eyes, its jointed limbs might have looked ungainly, clumsy, even monstrous;
The featureless curves of black that served it for eyes might have appeared inhuman, and the under thrust grillwork of its vocabulator might have suggested the jaws of a saurian predator built of blast armor, but to the shadow –
It was glorious.
A magnificent jewel box, created both to protect and to exhibit the greatest treasure of the Sith.
Terrifying.
Mesmerizing.
Perfect.
The table slowly rotated to vertical, and the shadow leaned close.
“Lord Vader? Lord Vader, can you hear me?”
This is how it feels to be Anakin Skywalker, forever:
The first dawn of light in your universe brings pain.
The light burns you. It will always burn you, part of you will always lie upon the black glass sand beside a lake of fire while flames chew upon your flesh.
You can hear yourself breathing. It comes hard, and harsh, and it scrapes nerves already raw, but you cannot stop it. You can never stop it. You cannot even slow it down.
You don’t even have lungs anymore.
Mechanisms hardwired into your chest breathe for you. They will pump oxygen into your bloodstream forever.
Lord Vader? Lord Vader, can you hear me?
And you can’t, not in the way you once did. Sensors in the shell that prisons your head trickle meaning directly into your brain.
You open your scorched-pale eyes; optical sensors integrate light and shadow into a hideous simulacrum of the world around you.
Or perhaps the simulacrum is perfect, and it is the world that is hideous.
Padme? Are you here? Are you all right? You try to say, but another voice speaks for you, out from the vocabulator that serves you for burned away lips and tongue and throat.
“Padme? Are you here? Are you all right?”
“I’m very sorry, Lord Vader. I’m afraid she died. It seems in your anger, you killed her.”
This burned hotter than the lava had.
“No … no, it is not possible!”
You loved her. You will always love her. You could never will her death.
Never.
But you remember …
You remember all of it.
You remember the dragon that you brought Vader forth from your heart to slay. You remember the cold venom in Vader’s blood. You remember the furnace of Vader’s fury, and the black hatred of seizing her throat to silence her lying mouth –
And there is one blazing moment in which you finally understand there was no dragon. That there was no Vader. That there was only you. Only Anakin Skywalker.
That it was all you. It you.
Only you.
You did it.
You killed her.
You killed her because, finally, when you could have saved her, when you could have gone away with her, when you could have been thinking about her, you were thinking about yourself.
It is this blazing moment that you finally understand the trap of the dark side, the final cruelty of the Sith –
Because now your self is all you will ever have.
And you rage and scream and reach through the Force to crush the shadow who has destroyed you, but you are so far less now that what you were, you are more than half machine, you are like a painter gone blind, a composer gone deaf, you can remember where the power was but the power you can touch is only a memory, and so with all your world-destroying fury it is only droids around you that implode, and the equipment, and the table on which you were strapped shatters, and in the end, you cannot touch the shadow.
In the end, you do not even want to.
In the end, the shadow is all you have left.
Because the shadow understands you, the shadow forgives you, the shadow gathers you unto itself –
And within your furnace heart, you burn in your own flame.
This is how it feels to be Anakin Skywalker.
Forever…
Light and Dark
In the senate arena, lightning forked from the hands of a Sith, and bent away from the gesture of a Jedi to shock Redrobes into unconsciousness.
Then there were only the two of them.
Their clash transcended the personal; when new lightning blazed, it was not Palpatine burning Yoda with his hate, it was the Lord of all Sith scorching the master of all Jedi into a smoldering huddle of clothing and green flesh.
A thousand years of hidden Sith exulted in their victory.
“Your time is over! The Sith rules the galaxy! Now and forever!”
And it was the whole of the Jedi Order than rocketed from its huddle, making of its own body a weapon to blast the Sith to the ground.
“At an end your rule is, and not short enough it was, I must say.”
There appeared a blade the color of life.
From the shadow of a black wing, a small weapon – a hold-out, an easily concealed backup, a tiny bit of treachery expressing the core of Sith mastery – slid into a withered hand and spat a flame colored blade of its own.
When those blades met, it was more Yoda against Palpatine; more the millennia of Sith against the legions of Jedi; this was the expression of the fundamental conflict of the universe itself.
Light against dark.
Winner take all.
There came a turning point in the clash of the light against the dark.
It did not come from a flash of lightning or slash of energy blade, though there were these in plenty; it did not come from a flying kick or a surgically precise punch, though those were traded, too.
It came as the battle shifted from the holding office to the great chancellor’s podium; it came as the hydraulic lift beneath the podium raised it on its tower of durasteel a hundred meters and more, so that it became a laser-point of battle flaring at the focus of the vast emptiness of the senate arena; it came as the force and the podium’s controls ripped delegation pods free of the curving walls and made of them hammers, battering rams, catapult stones crashing and crushing against each other in a rolling thunder-roar that echoed that senate’s cheers for the galaxy’s new emperor.
It came when the avatar of light resolved into the lineage of the Jedi; when the lineage of the Jedi refined into one single Jedi.
It came when Yoda found himself alone against the dark.
In that lightning-speared tornado of feet and fists and blades and bashing machines, his vision finally pierced the darkness that had clouded the force.
Finally, he saw the truth.
This truth: that he, the avatar of light, supreme master of the Jedi order, the fiercest, most implacable, most devastatingly powerful foe the darkness had ever known …
Just –
Didn’t –
Have it.
He’d never had it. He had lost before he started.
He had lost before he was born.
The Sith had changed. The Sith had grown, had adapted, had invested a thousand years’ intensive study into every aspect of not only the Force but Jedi lore itself, in preparation for exactly this day. The Sith had remade themselves.
They had become new.
While the Jedi –
The Jedi had spent the millennium training to fight the last war.
The new Sith could not be destroyed with a lightsaber; they could not be burned away by any torch of the force. The brighter his light, the darker their shadow. How could one win a war against the dark, when war itself had become the Dark’s own weapon?
He knew, at that instant, that this insight held the hope of the galaxy. But if he fell here, that hope would die with him.
Hmmm, Yoda thought. A problem this is …
He spoke softly, but not to himself.
He spoke to the Force.
And the Force answered him. Do not blame yourself, my old friend.
As it sometimes had these past thirteen years, when the Force spoke to him, it spoke in the voice of Qui-Gon Jinn.
“Too oldi was,” Yoda said, “Too rigid. Too arrogant to see that the old way is not the only way. These Jedi, I trained to become the Jedi who had trained me, long centuries ago – but those ancient Jedi, of a different time they were. Changed, has the galaxy. Changed, the Order did not – because let it change, I did not.”
More easily said than done, my friend.
“An infinite mystery is the Force.” Yoda lifted his head and turned his gaze out into the wheel of stars. “Much to learn, there still is.”
And you will have time to learn it.
“Infinite knowledge …” Yoda shook his head. “Infinite time, does that require.”
With my help, you can learn to join with the Force, yet retain consciousness. You can join your Light to it forever. Perhaps, in time, even your physical self.
Yoda did not move. “Eternal life…”
The ultimate goal of the Sith, yet they can never achieve it; It comes only by the release of the self, not the exaltion of the self. It comes through compassion, not greed. Love is the answer to the Darkness.
“Become one with the Force, yet influence still to have …” Yoda mused, “A great power than all, it is.”
It cannot be granted; it can only be taught. It is yours to learn, if you wish it.
Slowly, Yoda nodded. “A very great Jedi Master you have become, Gui-Gon Jinn. A very great Jedi master you always were, but too blind I was to see it.”
He rose, and folded his hands before him, and inclined his head in the Jedi bow of respect.
The bow of the student, in the presence of the Master.
“Your apprentice, I gratefully become.”
The Dark Always Wins
The dark is generous, and it is patient, and it always wins.
It always wins because it is everywhere.
It is in the wood that burns in your hearth, and in the kettle on the fire; it is under your chair and under your table and under the sheets on your bed. Walk in the mid-day dun and the dark is with you, attached to the soles of your feet.
The brightest light casts the darkest shadow.
Order 66
The clone wars were the perfect Jedi trap.
By fighting at all, the Jedi lost.
With the Jedi order overextended, spread thin across the galaxy, each Jedi is alone, surrounded only by what-ever clone troopers he, she or it commands. War itself pours darkness into the force, deepening the cloud that limits Jedi perception. And the clones have no malice, no hatred, not the slightest ill intent that might give warning. They are only following orders.
In this case, Order Sixty-six.
Hold-out blasters appear in clone hands. ARC-170s drop back onto the tails of Jedi Starfighters, AT-STs swivel their guns. Turrets on hovertanks swung silently. Clones open fire, and Jedi die.
All across the galaxy, all at once.
Jedi die.
Anakin's Dark Deeds
There was no question about it.
“Yes.”
“Take a knee, Anakin. Pledge yourself to the Order of the Sith.”
“Yes. I want your power. Take me as your apprentice. Teach me. Guide me, Master.”
“Then it is done. Rise. You are now one with the Order of the Dark Lords of the Sith. From this day forward, the truth of you, my apprentice, now and forevermore, will be Darth …”
A pause; a questioning in the force –
An answer, dark as the gap between galaxies –
He heard Sidious say it: his new name.
Vader.
“Rise, Lord Vader.”
The Sith lord who once had been a Jedi hero called Anakin Skywalker stood, drawing himself up to his full height, but he looked not outward upon his new master, nor upon the planet-city beyond, nor out to the galaxy they would soon rules. He instead turned his gaze inward: he unlocked the furnace gate within his heart and stepped forth to regard with new eyes the cold freezing dread if the dead-star dragon that had haunted his life.
The dragon tied again to whisper of failure, and weakness, and inevitable death, but with one hand the Sith lord caught it, crushed away its voice; it tried to rise then, to coil and rear and strike, but the Sith lord laid his other hand upon it and broke its power with a single effortless twist.
I am Darth Vader, he repeated as he ground the dragon’s corpse to dust beneath his mental hell, as he watched the dragon’s dust and ashes scatter before the blast from his furnace hear, and you –
You are nothing at all.
He had become, finally, what they all call him.
The hero with no fear.
There were screams, and tears, and pleas for mercy.
None of them mattered.
The Sith had come to Mustafar.
Shu Mai, president and CEO of the Commerce Guild, looked up from her knees, hands clasped before her, tears streaming down her shriveled cheeks. “We were promised a reward,” she gasped. “A h – h- handsome reward – “
“I am your reward,” the Sith lord said. “You don’t find me handsome?”
“Please! She screeched through her sobbing. “Pleee – “
The blue white blade cut into and out of her skull, and her corpse swayed. Her brain burned head tumbled to the floor.
“Stop!” Rune Haako, aide and confidential secretary to the viceroy of the trade federation cried. “Enough! We surrender, do you understand? You can’t just kill us – “
The Sith lord smiled. “Can’t i?”
“We’re unarmed! We surrender! Please – please, you’re a Jedi!”
“You fought a war to destroy the Jedi.” Vader stood above the shivering Neimoidian, smiling down upon him, then fed him half a meter of plasma. “Congratulations on your success.”
The Sith Lord stepped over Haako’s corpse to where Wat Tambor clawed uselessly at the transparisteel wall with his armored gauntlets. The head of the techno union turned at his approach, cringing, arms lifted to shield his faceplate from the flames in the dragon’s eyes.
“Please, I’ll give you anything. Anything you want!”
The blade flashed twice; Tambor’s arms fell to the floor, followed by his head.
“Thank you.”
Darth Vader turned to the last living leader of the confederacy of Independent systems.
Nute Gunray, viceroy of the trade federation, stood trembling in an alcove, blood tinged tears streaming down his green-mottled cheeks. “The war …,” he whimpered. “The war is over – Lord Sidious promised – he promised we would be left in peace …”
“His transmission was garbled.” The blade came up.
“He promised you would be left in pieces.”
Darth Sidious
Anakin smiled faintly. “I remember that I didn’t care much for the lessons.”
“for ANY lessons, as I recall. But it’s a pity, you should have paid more attention. To understand politics is to understand the fundamental nature of thinking beings. Right now, you should remember one of my first teachings: all those who gain power are afraid to lose it.”
“The Jedi use their powers for good,” Anakin said, a little too firmly.
“Good is a point of view, Anakin. And the Jedi concept of good is not the only valid one. Take your dark Lords of the Sith for example. From my reading, I have gathered that the Sith believed in justice and security every bit as much as the Jedi – “
“Jedi believe in justice and peace.”
“In these troubled times, is there a difference? The Jedi have not done a stellar job of bringing peace to the galaxy, you must agree. Who’s to say the Sith might not have done better?”
“The Sith are evil.”
“From a Jedi’s point of view,” Palpatine allowed. “Evil is a label we all put on those who threaten us, isn’t it? Yet the Sith and the Jedi are similar in almost every way, including their quest for greater power.”
“The Jedi quests is for greater understanding,” Anakin countered. “For greater knowledge of the force – “
“Which brings with it greater power, does it not?”
“Well … yes. “ Anakin had to laugh. “I should know better than to argue with a politician.”
“The real difference between a Jedi and the Sith lies only in their orientation; a Jedi gains power through understanding, and a Sith gains understanding though power. That is the true reason the Sith have always been more powerful than the Jedi. The Jedi fear the dark side so much they cut themselves off from the most important aspect of life: passion. Of any kind, they don’t even allow themselves to love.”
“The Sith do not fear the dark side. The Sith have no fear. They embrace the whole spectrum of experience, from the heights of transcendent joy to the depths of hatred and despair. Beings have these emotions for a reason, Anakin. That is why the Sith are more powerful: they are not afraid to feel.”
“The Jedi – the Jedi are good…”
“What the Jedi are,” Palpatine said gently, “is a group of very powerful beings you consider to be your comrades. And you are loyal to your friends; I have known that for as long as I have known you, and I admire you for it, but are your friends loyal to you? Would a true friend ask you to do something that is wrong? The Council have asked you to spy on me, have they not?”
Anakin shot him a sudden frown.
“It is alright. I have nothing to hide.”
“I’m not sure it’s wrong,” Anakin said. Obi-wan might have been telling the truth. It was possible. They might only want to catch Sidious. They might really be trying to protect Palpatine.
“Have they asked you to break the Jedi Code? To violate the constitution? To betray a friendship? To betray your own values? Think, Anakin, I have always tried to teach you to think – yes, yes, Jedi do not think, they know, but those stale answers aren’t good enough in these changing times! Keep your mind clear of assumptions. The fear of losing power is a weakness of both the Jedi and the Sith.”
Anakin sank in his seat. Too much had happened in too short a time. Everthing jumbled together in his head, and none of it seemed to make complete sense.
Except for what Palpatine said.
That made too much sense.
“Anakin – are you familiar with the Tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise?”
Anakin shook his head.
“Ah, I thought not. It is not a story the Jedi would tell you. It’s a Sith legend, of a dark lord who had turned his sight inward so deeply that he had come to comprehend, and master, life itself. And – because the two are one, when seen clearly enough – death itself.”
Anakin sat up. Was he actually hearing this? “He could keep someone safe from death?”
“The dark side seems to be – from my reading – the pathway to many abilities some would consider unnatural.”
“What happened to him?”
“Well, to safeguard his power’s existence, he teaches that path toward it to his apprentice.”
“And?”
“And his apprentice kills him in his sleep,” Palpatine said with a careless shrug. “Plageuis never sees it coming. That’s the tragic irony, see: he can save anyone in the galaxy from death – except himself.”
“What about the apprentice? What happens to him?”
“Oh, him. He goes on to become the greatest Dark lord the Sith have ever known …”
“What if,” Anakin said slowly, almost not daring to speak the words, “It’s not a legend?”
“Oh, I am … rather certain … that Plagueis did indeed exist …”
“How would I find him?”
“I’m sure I couldn’t say. You could ask your friends on the Jedi council, I suppose – but of course, if they ever found him they’d kill him on the spot. Not as punishment for any crime, you understand. Innocence is irrelevant to the Jedi. They would kill him simply for being Sith, and his knowledge would die with him.”
“I just – I have to – you – you seem to know so much about this, I need you to tell me: would it be possible, possible at all, to learn this power?”
Palpatine shrugged, regarding him with that smile of gentle wisdom.
“Well, clearly,” he said,”not from a Jedi.”
====================================================================
“Tell me what you want.”
Anakin squinted up at him. “I don’t understand.”
“Of course you don’t.” the last of the sunset haloed his ice white hair and threw his face into shadow. “You’ve been trained to never think about that. The Jedi never ask you what you want. They simply tell you what you’re supposed to want. They never gave you a choice at all. That’s why they take their students – their victims– at an age so young that choice is meaningless. By the time a Padawan is old enough to choose, he has been so indoctrinated – so brainwashed – that he is incapable of even considering that question.”
“I am … offering you … anything,” Palpatine said. “Ask, and it is yours. A glass of water? It’s yours. A bag full of Corusca gems? Yours. Look out the window behind me, Anakin. Pick something, and it’s yours,”
“Is this some kind of joke?”
“The time for jokes is past, Anakin. I have never been more serious.” Within the shadow that cloaked Palpatine’s face, Anakin could only just see the twin gleams of the chancellor’s eyes.
“I know what you truly want,” the shadow said. “I have only been waiting for you to admit it to yourself.” A hand - a human hand, warm with compassion – settled onto his shoulder. “Listen to me: I can help you save her.”
“Darth Plagueis was real. Darth Plagueis was my Master. He taught me the key to his power,” the shadow said, dryly matter-of-fact, “before I killed him.”
Without understanding how he had moved, without ever intending to move, without any transition of realization or dawning understanding, Anakin found himself on his feet, a blue bar of sizzling energy terminated a centimeter from Palpatine’s chin, its glow casting red-edged shadows up his face and across the ceiling.
“It’s you. It’s been you all along! I should kill you,” he said. “I will kill you!”
“I am,” he said simply, “your friend.”
The blue bar of energy wavered.
“I am also the man who has always been here for you, I am the man you have never needed to lie to, I am the man who wants nothing from you but that you follow your conscience. If that conscience requires you to commit murder, simply over a … philosophical difference … I will not resist.”
His hands opened, still at his sides. “Anakin, when I told you that you can have anything you want, did you think I was excluding my life?”
“You – you won’t even fight- ?”
“Fight you?” Palpatine look astonished that he would suggest such a thing. “But what would happen when you kill me? What will happen to the republic? His tone was gently reasonable. “What will happen to Padme?”
“Padme …”
Her name was a gasp of anguish.
“When I die,” Palpatine said with the air of a man reminding a child of something he ought to already know, “my knowledge dies with me.”
The sizzling blade trembled.
“Unless, that is, I have the opportunity to teach it … to my apprentice …”
“Anakin,” Palpatine said kindly, “Let’s talk.”
This is how it feels to be Anakin Skywalker, right now:
You don’t remember putting away your lightsaber.
You don’t remember collapsing in the chair where you sit now, nor do you remember drinking water from the half empty glass that you find in your hand.
You remember only that the last man in the galaxy you thought you could trust has been lying to you since the day you met.
And you’re not even angry about it.
You can’t argue. Words are beyond you.
“I – I’ll turn you over to the Jedi council – They’ll know what to do – “
“I’m sure they will. They are already planning to overthrow the republic; you’ll give them exactly the excuse they’re looking for. And when they come to execute me, will that be justice? Will they be bringing peace?”
“They won’t – they wouldn’t - !”
If only Obi-wan were here – Obi-wan would know what to say. What to do.
“Perhaps not. I hope you are correct, Anakin, my boy. Perhaps it’s simply a question of whether you love Obi-wan Kenobi more than you love your wife.”
There are no more searching for words.
“Take your time. Meditate on it. I will still be here when you decide.”
Inside your head, there is only fire. Around your heart, the dragon whispers that all things die.
This is how it feels to be Anakin Skywalker, right now.
The Dark Is Patient
It is the dark that seeds cruelty into justice that drips contempt into compassion, that poisons love with grains of doubt.
That dark can be patient, because the slightest drop of rain will cause these seeds to sprout.
The rain will come, and the seeds will sprout, for the dark is the soil in which they grow, and it is the clouds above them, and it waits behind the star that gives them light.
The dark’s patience is infinite.
Eventually, even stars burn out.
Mistrust
“Anakin Skywalker.” Master Windu’s tone was so severe that the dragon inside Anakin coiled instinctively.
“The Council has decided to comply with Chancellor Palpatine’s directive, and with the instructions of the senate that gave him the unprecedented authority to command this council. You are hereby granted a seat at the High Council of the Jedi, as the Chancellor’s personal representative.”
Anakin stood very still for a long moment, until he could be absolutely sure he had heard what he thought he’d heard.
Palpatine had been right. In fact – he couldn’t remember a single instance when the Supreme Chancellor had been wrong.
And in his mind, he was already leaving the council chamber, riding the turbolifts to the archives, demanding access to the restricted vault by authority of his new rank –
“You will attend the meetings of this council,” Windu said, “But you will not be granted the rank and privileges of a Jedi master.”
“What?”
It was a small word, a simple word, an instinctive recoil from words that felt like punches, like stun blasts exploding inside his brain that left his head ringing and the room spinning around him – but even to his own ears, the voice that came from his lips didn’t sound like his own. It was deeper, darker, clipped and oiled, resonating from the depths of his heart.
“How dare you? How dare you?”
Anakin stood welded to the floor, motionless. He wasn’t even truly aware of speaking, it was as if someone else were using his mouth.
“No Jedi in this room can match my power – no Jedi in the galaxy! You think you can deny Mastery to me?”
“The Chancellor’s representative you are,” Yoda said. Sit in this chamber you will, but no vote will you have. The Chancellor’s views you shall present. His wishes. His ideas and directives. Not your own.”
Up from the depths of his furnace heart came an answer so far transcending fury that it sounded cold as interstellar space. “This is an insult to me, and to the Chancellor. Do not imagine that it will be tolerated.”
Mace Windu’s eyes were as cold as the voice from Anakin’s mouth. “Take a seat, young Skywalker.”
Anakin matched his stare. Perhaps I’ll take yours. His own voice, inside his head, had a hot black fire that smoked from the depths of his furnace heart. You think you can make me watch her die? Go ahead and Vaapad this, you –
“Anakin,” Obi-wan said softly. He gestured to an empty seat beside him. “Please.”
And something in Obi-wan’s gentle voice, in his simple, straightforward request, sent his anger slinking off in shame. He suddenly felt very young, and very foolish.
“Forgive me, Masters.” His bow of contrition couldn’t hide the blaze of embarrassment that climbed his cheeks.
The rest of the session passed in a haze, and Anakin felt a dull shock when the council assigned the coordination of the search of general grievous to Obi-wan alone.
On top of everything else, now they were splitting up the team ?
“It is settled then,” mace said. “May the force be with us all.”
And as the Masters left the room, Anakin could only sit, sick at heart, stunned with helplessness.
Padme – Oh Padme, what are we going to do?
===================================================================
“Obi-wan. They want something from me, don’t they? That’s what this is really about. They won’t give me my rank until I give them what they want.”
“The Council does not operate that way, Anakin, and you know it.”
Once you’re a Master, as you deserve, how will they make you do their bidding?
“Yes, I know it. Sure I do.”Anakin said, suddenly he was tired. So incredibly tired. It hurt to talk. It hurt even to stand here. He was sick of the whole business.
“Anakin, look, I’m on your side, Obi-wan said softly. He looked tired, too: he looked as tired and sick as Anakin felt. “I never wanted to see you put in this situation.”
“What situation?”
Obi-wan hesitated. He glanced around the empty hall as if he wanted to make sure they were still alone; Anakin had a feeling it was just an excuse to avoid facing him when he spoke.
“The council,” Obi-wan said slowly, “Approved your appointment because Palpatine trusts you, they want you to report on his dealings. They want to know what he’s up to.”
“They want me to spy on the supreme chancellor of the republic?” Anakin blinked numbly. No wonder Obi-wan couldn’t look him in the face. “Obi-wan, that’s treason!”
“We are at war, Anakin.” Obi-wan looked thoroughly miserable. “The Council is sworn to uphold the principles of the Republic through any means necessary. We have to. Especially when the greatest enemy of those principles seems to be the Chancellor himself!”
“He’s not a bad man, Obi-wan. He’s a great man, who’s holding this Republic together with his bare hands - you know how kind he has been to me. He’s my friend, Obi-wan!”
“Yes,” Obi-wan said softly. Sadly. “I know.”
“If he asked me to spy on you, do you think I would do it?”
“Anakin – listen: Palpatine himself may be in danger. We’re not asking you to act against Palpatine. We’re only asking you to … monitor his activities. You must believe me. We think that the Sith Lord is someone within Palpatine’s closest circle of advisors. That is who we want you to spy on, do you understand?”
A fiction created by the Jedi Council … an excuse to harass their political enemies …
“If Palpatine is under the influence of a Sith lord, he may be in the gravest danger. The only way we can help him is to find Sidious, and to stop him. It may be the only way to save the Republic!”
If this Darth Sidious of yours were to walk through that door right now … I would ask him to sit down, and I would ask him if has any power he could use to end this war.
“So all you’re really asking,” Anakin said slowly, “is for me to help the Council find Darth Sidious.”
“Yes.” Obi-wan looked relieved, incredibly relieved, as though some horrible chronic pain had suddenly and inexplicably eased. “Yes, that’s it exactly.”
Locked within the furnace of his heart, Anakin whispered an echo – not quite an echo – slightly altered, just at the end:
I would ask him to sit down, and I would ask him if he has any power to use –
to save Padme.
“Concerned about young Skywalker, you seem,” Yoda said quietly.
“Master Yoda – Anakin – abstractions like peace don’t mean much to him, Master Yoda. He’s loyal to people, not to principles. And he expects loyalty in return. He will stop at nothing to save me, for example, because he thinks I would do the same for him.”
“Because,” he admitted reluctantly, “he knows I would do the same for him.”
Yoda’s green eyes had gone softly sympathetic. “Do you fear that perform his task, he cannot?”
“Oh, no. that’s not it at all. I am firmly convinced that Anakin can do anything. Except betray a friend, what we have done to him today …”
If he asked me to spy on you, do you think I would do it?
“I don’t think he will ever trust us again.”
He found his eyes turning unaccountably hot, and his vision swam with unshed tears.
“And I’m not entirely sure he should.”