Chapter Text
Part I, the beginning.
(a preface of sorts)
At the large window of the luxurious cruiser, the two Jedi stood, looking out into the nothingness, unaffected and disconnected from the decadent revelry as ever. They were caught in their own whirlpool in the Force, prophet-like words cementing, touched by the hand of fate itself.
“Even the stars burn out, Master?” the boy asked.
“Yes, as all things do: not so much burn out, but meeting their time, coming to rest.”
The Padawan frowned in thought.
“But that’s— that’s still sad.”
The Master lightly chuckled. “The sadness is only what we feel, there is no tragedy in the forward rolling of fate. In time, our universe will no longer know light and darkness the way we do. The greatest stars will all fade, and what remains are the dimmer, steadier kind. It is only the natural progression in the history of time.”
A long moment passed.
“I understand.” The Padawan replied, quietly, “And so the Force is like the stars, it’ll ebb away and die too, won’t it? That’s what your prophecy means?”
Another silence.
“You are very wise, Padawan. There’s no Force without the stars. And no balance is eternal save for, perhaps, the eternal silence. Such is the balance alluded to by the prophecy.” Seeing his Padawan’s perplexity, however, the Master’s voice softened, and he guided the boy away from the window. “Come, let’s not linger. Matters of life and death are not for us to broker. Better keep the Chandrilans away from Corellian wine, for now.”