Work Text:
11 ABY
“What do you know of the Dark Side of the Force?” She asks the Mandalorian.
Adi regards his silver, domed beskar helmet with care and curiosity. She has stared down far more dangerous men than him over the years. But, she hopes to stay on his good side for the sake of the New Republic.
And she knows this will be a sensitive topic.
His shoulders immediately tense and his helmet swivels slowly to consider her question with his full attention. The inky black t-shaped visor doesn’t waver from her face. She couldn’t see his eyes but she feels them. Much like she senses his coalescing emotions through the Force. Fear, concern, suspicion all roll and swirl through him. His head tilts as he watches her. “The Dark Side?”
“Your son…” She says, cautiously. “Sometimes he taps into the Dark Side.”
A ripple of anger drips into the atmosphere of the Crest. “What do you mean?” Din’s tone dips slightly.
She turns toward his completely. Keeps her body language relaxed. “I mean that he uses his anger sometimes… when he’s using the Force.”
“What’s wrong with that?” Din demands.
She sighs. “As children, Jedi are trained to abstain from emotions like that. Fear, anger, hatred… they’re dangerous. Because they are self-focused emotions.”
His pewter helmet stares her down. “Anger… has kept me alive. Got me out of a lot of tight situations.”
She smirks sadly. “Except you don’t use the Force.”
He sighs, it’s electronic and fuzzy through the voice modulator built into his helmet. “Why does it matter?”
She tilts her head thoughtfully as she looks into the dark visor. “It’s addictive. Like a drug. It’s the quick and easy way. But… being disciplined, denying oneself to indulge in those emotions is very important.”
His shoulders lose some tension as he heaves a heavier sigh. “What happens… if you… get addicted?”
Adi draws in a measured breath, holds it. “Terrible things. Things that…” she shakes her head and looks away. “Things that people can’t take back.”
His boots scuffs against the durasteel floor paneling of his ship as he edges forward. “Ahsoka told me… that attachments could be dangerous for Jedi.” He pauses, he tilts his head. His tone is softer now. Anger has given way to concern.
He’s afraid of the answer. She hears it in the baritone dry and scratchy quality of his voice. Senses it in the emotions drifting off from him like flotsam in a river. Sees it out of the corner of her eye in his anxious gloved hands that flex repeatedly, itching for something productive to do.
She meets his dark visor again. “She and I disagree on that point.”
His gloves find his belt and latch on. His body relaxes and his posture becomes lazy as he nods curtly. “Is that so?”
She frowns. She’s never had to defend this position to someone like him before. “Attachments themselves aren’t dangerous. But, what one does in response to them can be.”
Din straightens up at that. Relief billows out of him and it’s almost corporeal. Sunshine after a night of heavy storms. A thousand kilos have lifted off of his back. “So, you don’t think him being attached to me…”
She shakes her head. “It’s not that.”
He sighs again and nods sharply, like she’s given him a pardon from a death penalty. It’s the closest she’s ever heard him to being elated. “Good.” His vocoder picks up on the slight tremble in his voice.
“I think he just needs more training. So, that he never gets… that he never does anything that he regrets afterwards.” She amends.
He takes another hesitant step forward. “Would you… be willing to train him?”
She nods. “I’ll see what I can do.”