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- Nov 27, 2005
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[YOUTUBE]KkObnNQCMtM[/YOUTUBE]
Your faith is strong and you hold true to the Way. You stand side by side with your brothers in arms, ready to defend life in all its forms. You believe in a legacy 26,000 years old, a legacy born out of the struggles of the conflicts with the dark side yet one that emerged to be the guardians of a great galactic power. While that legacy faded, it returned and became stronger than ever, even now when you carry the torch of the great fire that burns at the heart of all Jedi.
You know those who say that death lurks around all corners. You know that there can be no light without darkness. Yet you also know that there is no death, only the Force. The eyes are the tools of deception and create false images of death, and you’ve learned that death exists only in those in the shroud of the dark side. You’ve heard names like Skywalker, Kenobi, and Yoda, and you know that the body dies but the soul lives on.
But your faith in that waivers. When hundreds of your friends, your brothers and sisters, die in a tidal wave of fire, you pause. You consider the ideas of death. That shroud covers you, even if just momentarily, but you have been trained to let go. You have been trained to resist.
Fear creeps into your heart, but fear is the emotion of those who believe themselves to be prophets. When the future is always in motion, dwelling on it is a dangerous path. You know that this is the path that forged Darth Vader and decades of tyranny. The great masters of the Way have taught you that the future is an image constructed in our minds, but it is unreal because it is not present. The present is real. It is this moment that is alive.
So now you stand here, on Coruscant, before the ruins of the ancient temple destroyed by an act of evil. You take all of your doubts, all of your wavering, and you bury them in the rubble of the once-vaunted fortress you stand in front of.
Your brothers and sisters burned here. You know of the explosion, but you don’t know what followed—and you should pray you never do. The fire burned throughout the night; the temple was destroyed, but not everyone had the luxury of dying in the fireball.
Those who know what happened see it in their minds.
Jedi and surrounding civilians run in a panic. Explosions rock the streets in all corners. Tremors shake throughout the nearby city. Padawans fall to their knees, burned, bloodied, sobbing. A girl wails over her charred father. A youngling wanders through the falling ash, trying to find the master that had raised her like a mother. A Jedi Knight runs from the wreckage, his body set ablaze, collapsing into his final moments. You know the ash falling from the sky is more than just debris.
They shutter the thought. They too are here now, at the ruins, paying their final respects, as are the hundreds already here and the hundreds still arriving. You all seem to be looking over your shoulders, looking for the ones who carried out this horrific act, and yet you know the truth. The truth is that many of the ones who carried out this act, and their forefathers, were just like you.
Once there was only the Jedi, but soon the dark side came like a serpent, and it tempted those it took within its grasp. Ajunta Pall. XoXaan. Karness Muur. Their names belong to history, but their legacies belong to the Sith—your brothers, in a twisted way. You wonder who amongst you now will meet the same destiny, but you quickly burry those thoughts as well. To dwell on them is to invite the dark side into your heart.
This is how it feels to be a Jedi in a state of war, but there are those who aim to change that. Suffering breeds animosity, and animosity leads to anger. You know where anger leads, as do they. These individuals are the new Jedi Council. The new Grand Master. In every great conflict, the Jedi overcame their suffering and emerged victorious. Battles can be lost to darkness, but the great struggles end with the light.
The images emerging from the ruins of the temple show that now. They’re not of suffering or terror, of misery or death. They are of hope and peace, of justice and love. Night has fallen, and the surrounding city has shut down its lights, all waiting to see the sight now.
Hundreds of candles flicker to life—no, thousands, hundreds of thousands; civilians, politicians, and military personnel alike have all gathered to pay their final respects. They line the city streets, illuminating the dim corners of your world, your life as a Jedi. These lights tell you that darkness is not eternal. You know that in the great darkness, the faintest spark can create the greatest light. So it is tonight.
It is not destruction that will define the legacy of the temple’s bombing. It is this, this night, this moment. This one simple act of lighting candles, of lighting a fire, the one thing that forged civilizations so many millennia ago. One lone candle is enough to fight the darkness. This is a symbol of love, and love...love can ignite the stars.
At the head of the group is a man who knows this, a man who understands overcoming failure and struggles better than most. This is Jhon Cordatus. The Grand Master. If he does nothing else in his life, he will ensure that this is never how a Jedi will have to feel again.
No words are spoken. None need to be. The tear slowly sliding down the Grand Master’s cheek, onto a face that shows nothing but love and resolve, says enough.
You are in the hands of something greater. When the candles go out, you are the light.