If there's one lesson most have the hardest time learning, it is this: change comes whether one wishes it or not.
In my long existence, I have seen many reactions to this universal truth, but in the end, it's like any other nasty surprise. You can fight it, kick and scream as it drags you by the ankles into the dark. Or, you can accept it, grow, and become stronger from it.
At least, this is the conventional wisdom. The wisdom of the slave, the wisdom of the Jedi. The wisdom that says that one is always subject to the chaotic whimsy of a mad and uncaring cosmos.
There is a third way. A narrow and winding path for the ones with the wherewithal to see it through. That path is full of suffering, and not one in a trillion will have what it takes to walk it to the end.
That is the path of stepping away from the universe's governance and limitations. Of refusing to be a slave.
Historically, I have always railed against restrictions on my actions. This is not mere rebellion, but moral duty. I am no slave, and thus, I am not subject to laws, borders, or norms set up to corral slaves. No one in a galaxy of uncountable beings rules Helix. Whatever my fate, that is what the history books will say.
Of course, walking that tightrope isn't easy. It requires constant effort, constant maneuvering, constant conflict. Yet here I stand, amidst this empire of slaves, flouting laws written by slaves for the benefit of slaves. There is no prize in the universe sweeter, and I should know. I've been around long enough to experience a thousand victory laps, pick through the plunder of a thousand worlds. I have experienced the wonders of this universe, and others, on a level unrivalled by anyone before or after.
None of it compares to being captain of my own soul. That is a pleasure that, regrettably, most of the galaxy's myriad beings will never understand. They are all ruled by something. Slaves to men, slaves to money, slaves to rulers, slaves to passions, slaves to delusions, slaves to expectations, slaves to fear, slaves one and all. Slaves ruling slaves, even unto the highest echelons.
How perverse.
In my time living among this culture, that has been my most disappointing revelation. There are very few truly free souls within its borders. Almost all are mastered by someone or something other than their own will.
Perhaps that's simply the nature of that society. The central, unspoken sacrament of the Sith. All that talk of breaking chains, self-liberation, that's all window dressing for the masses. The reality is slavery. Slaves ruling slaves ruling slaves.
So it was recently with Lirka. Lirka Ka is a fascinating animal. One of the only beings in the galaxy really worthy of my time and attention, and one as passionate about the true nature of the universe as I am. She is, in her own peculiarly-offbeat way, a genius. I am confident that time will see her vindicated, as genius is regrettably seldom appreciated in its own era.
In a recent conversation, I posited to her that slavery is a condition of the soul, not of the body, and thus, one could not be liberated from it. One need only look at some of our own supposedly-lofty personages to see proof of this. One can be born a slave and die a slave without ever having felt the kiss of the whip or the bite of cold iron fetters. One is a slave first and foremost by nature, not by circumstance.
A surprising number of Sith started out in chains, as it turns out. "Started out" is, as I've said, perhaps not the most accurate way to phrase it. This would imply that they ever left that sad condition.
Even a liberated slave still thinks like one, still scrabbles for power out of fear of going back into bondage. "If I become councilor, imperator, emperor, or god, then surely the memories will go away. I will become so mighty that none may ever enslave me again." Such is the battle-cry of one whose chains never fell off.
Such slave-Sith are still in mental and spiritual bondage, no matter how much temporary power they secure. Once the chains go on, they never truly come off, not in any lasting sense. Darth Nefaron has the right of it. One of the key distinctions between master and slave is whether you command fear, or are commanded by it. It's one thing to experience apprehension, but quite another for it to decide your every action. What is the mad rush for power and station if not the action of an apprehensive spirit?
No amount of power, prestige, or influence will scrub the taint from the soul of such wretched individuals. Yet, a non-slave can still lose their freedom all too easily, can fall from heaven and be smote upon the filthy ground.
Unfair, perhaps, that a fall is possible where a rise is usually not, but reality is seldom concerned with what is and isn't fair. Place the chains, or wear the chains. Be the slave, or the enslaver.
Choose.
Or others will choose for you.
