"It was the war," Char observed as the two men surveyed the desolation below them. Char wore his broad-brimmed hat pulled low over his eyes, his knee-length sand-grey leather duster flapping in the ever-present breeze. The big man stood with his arms folded across his barrel chest, his speeder bike behind him thrumming pleasantly to itself while his Dark Eye probe droid flitted about on its own explorations of the new place. He glanced to the older Jedi, then looked back at the farm. "Growin' up on Tatooine, ya get a special appreciation fer war. Not only does it never really quit out 'round these parts, an' everyone suffers for it, but it's out here on th' fringe of things that peopler's hurtin' for somewhat they never wanted a part of. These folks, they was decent folks. Their boy, he was a good kid. The kinda kid everyone knew we'd never see again, y'know? The kind of kid who was going t' go places an' make somethin' a' hisself.
"He died on Saleucami, an' they gave the idiot Jedi playin' at bein' a general, they gave 'er a medal. Gave the kid's parents a medal, too. Said a lot a' nice words, but that weren't gonna bring 'im back. The Alliance ate 'im up, and weren't a thing they cared to do about it. He sent 'is pay back here, kept their farm afloat. Th' Hutts came a-collectin' soon after, sold 'em off at auction. I hear tell the wife's dead, an' so's the father. Ain't yet been able t' run down what happened to their brood, but it won't be good. The daughter, she was a pretty li'l thing. They was good folk, decent folk, but th' war kept drivin' up the price of everything but water."
Char's eyes hardened. The recrimination was as much at himself as it was at the New Jedi Order - but where he'd realized the error of his ways, they stubbornly clung to fighting as the only way to do any good in the 'verse. That still didn't make it right, still didn't bring the dead back or undo their families' suffering. "Including, it seems, Jedi's time. I shoulda. . . Hell. Woulda been nothin' but a thing for to be helpin' set this right. We been so focused on th' war an' so hidden in our temples that we've forgotten what it is to be a Jedi. Forgot the Code, forgot the hard an' right path for new, easier, quicker ideas an' secular entanglements."
"He died on Saleucami, an' they gave the idiot Jedi playin' at bein' a general, they gave 'er a medal. Gave the kid's parents a medal, too. Said a lot a' nice words, but that weren't gonna bring 'im back. The Alliance ate 'im up, and weren't a thing they cared to do about it. He sent 'is pay back here, kept their farm afloat. Th' Hutts came a-collectin' soon after, sold 'em off at auction. I hear tell the wife's dead, an' so's the father. Ain't yet been able t' run down what happened to their brood, but it won't be good. The daughter, she was a pretty li'l thing. They was good folk, decent folk, but th' war kept drivin' up the price of everything but water."
Char's eyes hardened. The recrimination was as much at himself as it was at the New Jedi Order - but where he'd realized the error of his ways, they stubbornly clung to fighting as the only way to do any good in the 'verse. That still didn't make it right, still didn't bring the dead back or undo their families' suffering. "Including, it seems, Jedi's time. I shoulda. . . Hell. Woulda been nothin' but a thing for to be helpin' set this right. We been so focused on th' war an' so hidden in our temples that we've forgotten what it is to be a Jedi. Forgot the Code, forgot the hard an' right path for new, easier, quicker ideas an' secular entanglements."