It was nice being on a ship again. I just... I would just be happier if I were alone or only with Vila... It wasn't Ben Skywalker who was the issue, either. It was the fact that Iowi was assigned to our group, too, when we were dispatched from the Academy. My discomfort came not from the fact that I had to work with Iowi but from the fact I had to worry if Vila would blow her top or not. But, surprisingly, for now, she restrained herself pretty well.
"Aren't you cold?" I asked, trying to break the uncomfortable silence in the seating area of the ship, looking at Vila, watching her be barefooted.
"Nah. I am used to it. And it feels... nice. I feel more connected." She answered in a pretty good mood while I quickly glanced at Iowi in the other row, opposite us. But he just sat there, looking past us as if we weren't there.
"Just don't complain if you step into something." I shrugged, making her punch my shoulders.
"I am a Jedi. I can sense if I would, idiot..."
Just then, I felt the familiar change as we exited hyperspace, gliding toward the verdant planet of Valkyss, our current destination, ruled by humans. It was a world nestled in the Tirallian Sector, far beyond the borders of the New Republic, close to the space where Yavin 4 was, remaining independent. Unlike the stabilized and bureaucratic core of galactic politics, Corellian worlds, or the Remnant's sectors, this region of space was a patchwork of independent systems, each vying for their own influence and autonomy.
Valkyss itself was a planet of vast green fields, endless farmlands, and a sprawling trade hub above the planet. Still, at its heart, it was a world on the verge of internal collapse as its trade had been frozen for the past year or so. According to our briefing, two powerful factions of the planet—the Agricultural Guilds and the Trade Consortium—were locked in a bitter dispute over export rights, taxation policies, and labor conditions. Feeling it to be an impossible knot to solve by themselves and without an intergalactic governing body to intervene, the local government had turned to the only neutral power they could trust: our Jedi Order.
I don't know why, but in the end, it was left to Ben Skywalker to come and try to solve the issue, or at least to start the talks toward a peaceful solution. And... he chose Vila, me, and, well, Iowi to come with him. To gain experience. Haah... But, with my current abilities, I knew better. I could feel it; it was for us to solve our issues on this mission while he solved the Valkyss's problems.
"Remember," Ben spoke, turning to us, "this isn't a battlefield. Our role here is to mediate, not to take sides. Don't go overboard; we are not here to dictate! We are here to mediate."
"..." Vila crossed her arms, frowning slightly as she listened. "And if one side is obviously in the wrong?"
"Vila," Ben regarded her evenly. "Then we guide them toward resolution, not punishment. We are here to ensure peace, not impose it. Forced peace is not going to last."
"Master," I asked thoughtfully, furrowing my brows, "Do they actually want peace? Or do they just want us to justify their claims in the name of profit?"
"A little of both," Ben admitted, offering a small, knowing smile. "That's why this will be a test—not just for them, but for you three as well."
"I understand." Iowi's voice cut in before ours, and his arms were rigid at his sides. "But with all due respect, Master Skywalker, the Jedi are not politicians. Why are we involved in trade disputes?"
"Because war doesn't always start with blasters," Ben replied. "It starts with grievances, issues that are left unresolved. Then it festers, and it may do nothing for centuries... but after that? It becomes something unresolvable. Jedi don't just fight wars, Iowi. We prevent them. Prevention is always the better option than finding a solution to an overgrown problem."
I watched as he fell silent, his thoughts swirling, but I remained in control, not trying to touch it. I knew he had spent years training to be a Jedi Knight, believing that actual control came from unwavering discipline. Yet here he was, about to walk into a crisis of politics and economics—a battlefield where strength meant nothing, and words meant everything. Will his old-fashioned outlook help him now? I was curious. For once, I was pretty confident... I had learned about things like this back home. I studied cases like this a lot. I was simply unsure if solving it was something I could do because the things I learned were not always aligned with the Jedi's virtue.
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Exiting our ship at the space station, we were then brought down to the surface and welcomed to Tarlend City, Valkyss's de facto capital. It was connected to the station above via a space elevator, turning it into a bustling trade center built at the crossroads of the planet's sprawling agricultural plains and the home of the merchant districts. Our stop was at a grand hall, the chosen neutral ground for both factions. They were already there, waiting as the space had been arranged for the negotiations days before our arrival.
As we entered, we were met by the representatives from both sides, jostling against each other to be the first to welcome us. It felt... weird. My senses could pick up on the heavy, fake smiles, the nasty-feeling lies told to paint their side to be the victim. Urgh. Turning my thoughts away, I kept watching and listening as they spoke with Ben.
On one end stood Chairman Deris Tharn, head of the Agricultural Guilds. He was a broad-shouldered, weathered old man who had spent decades working the fields before rising to power. On the other end stood Administrator Valis Toreen. Even being a human, he was tall, well above two meters, with a slightly elongated, bald head. By feeling alone, he was a calculating leader of the Trade Consortium, flanked by his impeccably dressed aides, looking high and mighty.
After the initial introductions, Tharn wasted no time, speaking the moment we sat down next to Ben, facing the two sides in front of us, as we were the honored judges. Well, we were. Kind of.
"The farmers of Valkyss are the backbone of this planet. Without us, there would be no food to trade! Without trading... how are they making money, I'd like to ask? And yet the Consortium seeks to dictate our prices and bleed us dry. Tariffs? Against us? Their own? We are on the same planet, even if they mostly live up on their station! We are tethered, aren't we?"
"Please..." Toreen raised an eyebrow, his expression mockingly calm. "The Guilds have already increased prices of raw and completed products beyond reason. If we allow this to continue, other worlds in the sector will suffer from food shortages because they can't afford the price the Guild wants. You call us exploiters, yet you hoard your resources as if starving children are a fair price for your greed."
Hearing it, Vila tensed beside me, and I could feel why. We could feel the emotions radiating from both sides—anger, frustration, and desperation. I could even taste it. These people had suffered in the past, probably under the Vong days. Yet, since they survived and now rebuilt, becoming a slightly more powerful force in their vicinity, neither was willing to see beyond their own struggle.
"No need to shout." Ben motioned for calm. "I hear you all without raising your voices. And... We are not here to listen to accusations. That is between you two to settle as the rulers of this planet. We are here to find a solution."
Hearing him speak so nonchalantly yet so forcefully, both leaders sat down, though the tension in the air remained thick. The negotiations began once again, and I knew it... This will take some time.
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Hours passed. Discussions became arguments multiple times. Then, the arguments turned into veiled threats. It was like an endless whirlpool. I think Vila got bored of it first while I kept focusing. It was such good training... not for my political knowledge, but to control my gift. The emotions in this chamber were wild, and they helped me further my studies. It was... honestly, fantastic.
Of course, I kept it between a specific range and control because Iowi, seated beside Ben, observed the process unfold, half of his attention barely leaving me. Or Vila. He had tried to listen and analyze, but the clear, disciplined order he had always relied upon was absent in this chaos. This wasn't like training at the Temple or juggling theories—this was disorder in its natural, human form. It was petty and emotional, beneath what he thought the Jedi should be handling, I guess. Well, we were the guardians of peace, no? Then he should be happy to exercise it now.
Still, I tried not to focus on him unless he took it the wrong way. So, when Ben spoke, reprimanding the delegation the hundredth time, I looked at Vila.
To my surprise and to hers, too, despite her instincts screaming to call out the Consortium's tactics multiple times, she had exercised restraint. Instead of shouting, she listened. Instead of attacking, when Ben noticed her fidgeting, he let her stand up and speak. In those times, she asked questions that forced the leaders to reconsider their own words. I couldn't help but grin proudly, floored by how good she was, and watched the surprise and shock on Iowi's face.
A farmer's exploitation under a merchant's contract? A trader's struggles under sudden price hikes out of the blue despite a premade agreement? Both sides had valid grievances. And Vila instinctively pointed it out for everyone to see.
On the other hand, I mostly remained quiet, watching more than speaking; my presence in the Force was focused on reading the emotions in the room, and sometimes, I felt Master Ben's consciousness nudging mine, directing me towards certain figures amongst the two groups. He asked me my opinions not via words but via his own Force powers. He was leading the negotiation, and his insights were whispered through the Force, guiding me along.
Then, as tempers flared once more, an aide hurried into the chamber, whispering something to Toreen. The administrator's face darkened, darkened and I kept my focus directly on him.
"Someone tried to sabotage our supply depots last night," he said sharply. "They tried to burn one down!"
"Nonsense!" Tharn's face turned red. "You think we would do that?"
"I think someone on your side would, yes."
"Stop," Ben said, and he did not shout, but it felt like he did. There was an instant silence as the air grew colder. "Find out the truth," he said, not to them but to us.
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Iowi led the investigation alongside us, taking it upon himself as the senior Padawan in our group. Vila grunted, but then, taking a deep breath, she just nodded, her face impassive as best as he could force it to be. To cover more ground, we split up and started by questioning workers, reviewing security footage, and analyzing evidence left behind at the destroyed depot.
As I was talking with witnesses, I got a strange feeling. No matter who I asked or which party I talked with, none of them lied. None was trying to deceive me or hide something. Both sides believed in what they said, and the truth was only revealed in their recounts. Then, Iowi called us over our comms to check on a security recording.
"I thought it was disabled?" Vila asked, squinting at the holorecording.
"They were." Iowi spoke with a slight annoyance, "This one was hidden, off the grid and private, because the owner thought one of his subordinates was skimming from the top of his goods."
What we found changed everything. The saboteur wasn't from the Agricultural Guilds. Nor from the Consortium. How did we know it? From the fact that we got his face and after we ran it over the record of citizens, it matched none of them. Not until Vila's suggestion did we spread it out to incoming and outgoing trade, and there he was. He came to the planet only a day before the incident and left right after the fire was started.
Whoever it was, the man was clearly only a mercenary hired by an unknown third party.
"Someone wanted these talks to fail," Iwoi concluded, and for the first time, all three of us agreed on the fact.
As we gathered their findings, I noticed that Iowi sometimes furrowed his brows. I could tell that he felt something he hadn't before—a kind of surge of clarity. As for what? I tried easing closer with my mind without alerting him... and it worked. I could feel it, being gentle without enforcing myself on him. I knew that, at the moment, this wasn't about proving himself right or proving Vila or me wrong. This was about justice. The moment demanded action, not ideology; it demanded the intervention of the Jedi to preserve the piece.
I think even Vila agreed. Because... we never argued and compiled everything we found calmly and cleanly, straight into a comprehensive and proven report.
Returning to the negotiating table, Iowi presented the evidence. And, to add another surprise, he didn't take full credit for it, clearly mentioning how we worked together. Of course, it was not for the two opposing sides—it was for Ben. The revelation forced both sides to take a step back, redirecting their anger at a common enemy rather than each other.
I don't know how Master Skywalker will react to the fact that we didn't disperse their anger; we just refocused it. But at least it was a start... and a good one? Well... I hoped.