“Remember…you always have a choice to be better. You always have a choice to…to pick the right path.” She smiled sadly. “Even if that choice comes a little late.”
“Cheers the spirit, humor does, even at the darkest times.”
“Ventress gave him a look that was so completely her, it tore him apart. “You don’t…tell me what to do, Idiot.” A small smile surprised him. “Never could,” he admitted. “Damn right.” Another bout of coughing racked her thin frame, and for a devastating, heart-scalding second Vos thought this would take her. But she continued. “I’m proud of you for…what you did over there. You chose loving me instead of hating him.” Her bloody-frothed lips curved in a smile. “Best choice you’ve ever made.”
“Your virtue is safe with me. Your discomfort is rather charming, actually, but I'm sure you'll get over it.”
“Please…please don’t…” “You must let me go, my love,” Ventress said, her voice so gentle, so tender, and she smiled lovingly. “It’s the Jedi way.” And she was gone.”
“I wanted what we had. What we were going to have. Together. We had a future.”
“Yes. I had misgivings from the beginning about this entire enterprise. I still believe that sending a Jedi to assassinate a man was wrong. And I fear that I will likely lose not only a fellow Jedi Master, but someone I consider a friend, and we will have nothing to show for such a loss.”
“me. That’s what it does. Nothing is ever enough. You get more, and more, but you’re never happy. It’s a trap baited with all the things you want most. That life—it’s not worth living.”
“And you will forgive me too, one day, Asajj Ventress.” He hesitated, and took a breath. “That’s what you do for…for the one you love.”
“There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force.”
“And now, it’s too late, and I will never stop grieving that. But I’m on the path, Asajj. You bought my chance with blood, and I won’t waste it, I swear I won’t. Every day, every minute of my life, I’ll live it. For me, and for you. I’ll fight, because you can’t, and I’ll laugh, and I’ll do everything I possibly can with everything I have in me to make things better, because this galaxy has seen too much of darkness.”
“Each life, a flame in the Force is. Beautiful. Unique. Glowing and precious, it stands, to bravely cast its own small light against the darkness that would consume it.” Yoda”
“I am not your kind,” Vos said, his voice thick. “I do not feed off vengeance.” Truth was quiet. It did not need to shout or to demand. It simply existed. “I am a Jedi.”
“There’s no way to phrase this other than bluntly. Master Vos—the Council wants you to assassinate Count Dooku.”
“Once you realized that everyone with whom you associated was, potentially, happy to literally stab you in the back, all the wondering just . . . went away.”
“Few do, at first. A small step, the one that determines destiny often is.”
“The Jedi cultivated a practice of nonattachment, which had always served them well. Few understood, though, that while specific, individual bonds such as romantic love or family were forbidden, the Jedi were not ashamed of compassion. All lives were precious, and when so many were lost in such a way, the Jedi felt the pain of it in the Force as well as in their own hearts.”
“Sometimes it is a dark path we must tread so that long more for the light, we shall.”
“Many Jedi would raise eyebrows at the thought of meditating in a bar, but Vos had done it before.”
“The Jedi cultivated a practice of nonattachment, which had always served them well. Few understood, though, that while specific, individual bonds such as romantic love or family were forbidden, the Jedi were not ashamed of compassion. All lives were precious, and when so many were lost in such a way, the Jedi felt the pain of it in the Force as well as in their own hearts. At”
“Grieved are we all, to see so many suffer,” he said. “Courage, the youngling had, at the end. Forgotten, she and her people will not be.”
“Go ahead, spit it out,” she muttered. “You look…” Like a goddess of love and war and hope and ecstasy. Like a glimmering star that I have somehow been blessed to hold. Like the rest of my life. “…nice.” He wanted to kick himself. Ventress”
“Impossible. Not after everything that’s happened.”
“Vos stretched out on the cot, but sleep would not come right away. The words he’d spoken kept running through his brain: What’s worse…to have unhappy stories, or to have no story at all? Vos had no answer.”
“Strange as it was, he understood there was grace and strength in this pain; a reminder of what should never be forgotten.”
“Go ahead, spit it out,” she muttered.
“You look…”
Like a goddess of love and war and hope and ecstasy. Like a glimmering star that I have somehow been blessed to hold.
Like the rest of my life.
“…nice.” He wanted to kick himself.”
“He frowned. “Jedi aren’t without emotion. We’re allowed to grieve.”
“Perhaps,” Ventress allowed, “but somehow I don’t think most Jedi try to drown the pain with alcohol and slam their fists on the table.”
“though, was perched high inside the massive tower that was the centerpiece”
“It will require you to forsake nearly everything that it means to be a Jedi. But you have already begun down that path, I think. Your grief over the deaths of the Krim family does not speak of nonattachment.”
“He shakes his head miserably. “If only I’d gotten here sooner….”
“You got here in plenty of time,” I say with a snort. “We’re okay.”
“But the truck!” he says as he turns back to us. “It was so cherry.”
“There was much of the beautiful, much of the wanton, much of the bizarre, something of the terrible, and not a little of that which might have excited disgust.”
“She's in love, and that makes her strong. She'll need to be."
"What makes you strong, Mia?"
"Purpose. Love never worked for me.”
“If you were forced to drink a beaker of di-hydrogen oxide, your response would probably be negative. If you asked for a glass of water, you might enjoy it. That's right. There's no difference on the palate. The difference, in the brain.”
“The skies she retained in memory were dramas of cloud and sea storm, or the electric sheen before summer thunder in the city, always belonging to the energies of sheer weather, of what was out there, air masses, water vapor, westerlies.”
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