Star Wars_ Fate of the Jedi 02_ Omen - Christie Golden [84]
Luke even commented on it one afternoon. Tadar’Ro radiated pleasure and warmth into the Force as he responded.
“This is a teaching site,” he said. “Many of the young gather here to learn. So, too, did Jacen Solo and Jorj Car’das.” Always the Aing-Tii used the full names of those he referred to.
“A … school, then?” Ben asked.
“Yes, that will do. A school. For centuries have open and willing minds been taught in this place. We find joy in learning and in sharing knowledge. The energy of so many minds, so much learning and enlightenment—that is what you feel here.”
Ben nodded slowly.
“You taught Jacen here,” Luke said. “How good a student was he?”
“He was only the second human I had ever met, and the first Jedi,” Tadar’Ro replied. “He seemed very eager for knowledge, but it was … not as joyful to him as to others. Is this a human trait?”
Luke and Ben exchanged glances. “Not universally. Everyone is a unique individual. How long ago was Jacen here?”
“There was a newness, an expectancy about him,” Tadar’Ro said in typical cryptic Aing-Tii fashion. By now, though, Luke and Ben were starting to be able to “translate.”
“He was just starting on the five-year journey,” Luke said to Ben, who nodded.
“You said he seemed eager for knowledge, but it wasn’t a joyful experience,” Ben continued. “Can you elaborate?”
Tadar’Ro sat back on his haunches, his tongues flickering in and out, but no words came forth. Clearly thinking and speaking were sometimes one and the same for the Aing-Tii. Ben stifled an inappropriate laugh as he realized that sometimes, thinking and speaking were one for members of his family, as well.
“It was a task, rather than a delight. As if—it was something to be accomplished, so one would not need to worry about it anymore. Something to get, to have.”
“That sounds like Jacen,” Ben said quietly. “So even then his feet were set on this path. At least somewhat.”
“Path?”
Luke sighed and turned to Tadar’Ro. “Your people use the Force, but it is my understanding that you don’t believe in a light or dark side.”
They had learned this from Jorj Car’das’s journals. At the beginning, Car’das had seemed to be very much like them: He had not been at all certain of what to make of the Aing-Tii initially.
“I didn’t really understand what it was Yoda had done for me until I frittered the gift away,” the small image of Car’das had said. “I wasn’t, and am not, and probably never will be, a Force-sensitive individual. And frankly, before I came here, I really didn’t care that much about it. But the Aing-Tii do—and yet they barely use it. Never have I seen a people so fascinated with something they respect enough not to use like a common household implement.”
“We don’t do that,” Ben had said as they watched over dinner one night.
“No,” Luke had replied. “That denotes a lack of respect, I think.”
“Most of my understanding about the Force, which is admittedly limited, points to it having only two aspects—light and dark,” Car’das had said. “The Jedi work with the light side of the Force, and the Sith and Dark Jedi with, obviously, the dark. That’s nice and simple and clear, and maybe we humans like our philosophies that way. But the Aing-Tii have a much more complicated view of it. They view it as—”
The image of Jorj Car’das had paused and his hands moved, as if he could physically grasp the words he wanted. “As having variations. Gradations. Like light, when put through a prism. Kind of—a rainbow.”
Ben thought of this image as Tadar’Ro nodded. “It is true. We do use the Force. It is sacred. It is of Those Who Dwell Beyond the Veil. Such a thing is much more complex than light or dark, wrong or right. Jacen Solo seemed to understand this.”
Luke and Ben exchanged glances. Ben knew that look; they’d talk about this more when they were alone.
Tadar’Ro continued, “We do use the Force to power our vessels, so that we may move beyond this world and search for any objects