The Stella Pascal Episode/Text

The Stella Pascal Episode

Watching the tape now, just six months later, I can’t believe how stupid we all were. And I don’t mean “we” strictly in the sense of the people present; I mean “we” as a collective culture. I guess that’s what a few centuries of peace and affluence will do to a society.

If I don’t hold onto this holo-tape, my kids won’t believe me, but we hadn’t seen a Sith in 600 years, and we hadn’t had a war in half that time. The galaxy was all but united, the economy was thriving, everyone was happy. How blind we all were. Maybe that’s why the Sith wait so long: they give us the opportunity to put the knife halfway in. Before this war broke out, I was studying history, particularly fascinated by the Jedi. That day and that holo-recording was my first accidental foray into journalism. Stella Pascal, that vibrantly beautiful media darling Jedi Knight, was doing one of the Coruscant morning shows, talking about her latest adventures on the Outer Rim patrolling the spice routes. I guess no matter how rich the galaxy gets, we’ll always have a drug problem, and with no war, how else are the Jedi to occupy their time?

There were throngs of us in attendance that morning, most of them fans like me, though I’m sure I was one of the few that was using an academic excuse for paying the exorbitant fees to get in. And I was also probably the only one who had smuggled in a recording device. But how could I do research if I was going to be reliant on the HoloNet broadcasts? It was the true character of Stella that I was interested in, not the one she presented to the camera droids. I wanted to see if she could possibly be that charming when the cameras were off, when the entire galaxy wasn’t looking.

I got more than I was asking for.

That day, I didn’t notice the change in her voice when she must have sensed it coming, but now watching the tape it’s as clear as day. “And though I’m always grateful to go out to the Rim and have some fun with my lightsaber,” she was saying, and then she hesitated. Her head turned just for a moment, looking away from the host and past the camera droids before continuing her sentence: “it really is a shame that the galaxy has been poisoned by illegal narcotics for countless millennia.” Her voice changed in the middle of that sentence, just a slight shake. When she smiled for the camera after that, you could see that her green eyes weren’t twinkling like they usually do. Maybe it’s just me, but her hair even seems a little more frazzled after that moment, not as straight, not as pure black, something.

When they cut for commercial break, she politely told the host that she had to go, but by that time everyone had picked up that she was worried about something. The crowd was buzzing with curiosity when she strode off the stage and up the red carpet that had been laid out for her there in Monument Plaza, her hand dangling a touch closer to her lightsaber than usual. “I sense something strange in the Force,” she announced as she walked past. “Perhaps it would be best if everyone left the area.”

But we were all much too invested now. At that point I celebrated the camera I’d mounted on my spectacles, and the fact that I was half a head taller than almost everyone else in the crowd. I had a great view of her as she walked, looking rather appealing in her tight, black jumpsuit.

By the time she’d gotten away from the area specifically roped off for the broadcast, threatening to disappear into the crowds of mingling tourists, the audience was pushing and shuffling to keep her in view. I maneuvered my way to the best viewpoint I could find just before her blue lightsaber snapped to life. I swear that the entire planet gasped with that sound. Rightfully so, though we had no idea at the time.

He appeared from nowhere, a tourist like anyone else, it seemed. The difference was suddenly he wielded a red lightsaber. His strike was quick, but Stella must have been prepared, because there was no indication of surprise as she brought her blade up to block. That’s when we should’ve run, right when their two blades clashed for the first time. But after centuries of invincibility, we didn’t believe anything could harm us. I think the only reason the word “Sith” even crossed my mind was because I’d studied them in conjunction with the Jedi. Even I didn’t believe it.

No, instead of running, we gathered around watching the spectacle. As the duel unfolded, it seemed that in so many ways they were mirrors of each other, both moving so quickly and gracefully, defying gravity with flips and jumps. Watching the video, they are sometimes indistinguishable in the more intense parts of the battle, when I can’t tell which blade is being grasped by which duelist. They are both clad in black jumpsuits, though he is broader. His hair is cut short while hers flows in the wind. But they both fight with the same calm intensity.

The gasps and yelps came more frequently as the duel progressed, our fear taking audible life when Stella was forced to jump over a swipe or dance to the side of a particularly harsh combination. And we yelled in support, cheering when she took the upper hand or gained ground. How is it that no one thought to call Coruscant Police or the Jedi Temple? It was just another entertaining spectacle to us: our culture was as invincible as Stella seemed to be.

Much of the battle was quick moving, the opponents running with each other, from each other, to each other, we the crowd attempting to keep up at a safe distance. It’s obvious now, but he was maneuvering her closer and closer to the buildings. We all were shocked when he shattered the glass wall of a shopping mall with nothing more than a flick of his hand. Yet we followed them inside, were utterly fascinated when they fought around racks of clothes and on moving stairs and walkways. We should have taken it as foreshadowing when a blade sliced a mannequin in half. But they got deeper and deeper into the mall, suddenly fighting in the foodcourt in the center of the structure, far away from any exits.

That’s when he took first blood and when we realized this wasn’t just dueling tournament. Due to the lack of space, the crowd had gotten progressively closer to the action. I remember wanting to get closer to the edge but being squished and not strong enough to push my way through. Content to stay and record from in the midst of the crowd, still using my height to my advantage, I couldn’t even move when his blade lashed out at the center of the crowd. There was one cry as a teenager on the edge fell to the floor, a burning hole in his chest. Then it was shocked silence complimenting the buzzing and clashing of the lightsabers. He’d struck so quickly the first time that no one had registered what was happening before it happened again, this time a middle aged couple falling, the man without an arm, the woman without a head.

That’s when panic broke loose and everyone began to run. But there were too many of us packed together, and every swipe of his blade killed at least one more. Stella panicked, too, I guess. I didn’t catch the entire sequence on the camera because I, like everyone else, was trying to flee. But her shriek caused me to turn around just in time to see a powerful kick delivered to her face and knock her back at least ten meters. He didn’t hesitate to continue cutting through the masses, slaughtering at random.

Then he did stop, all too suddenly. He dropped his lightsaber and his hands went to his throat. I looked over to Stella, sitting up from where she’d landed in a heap of aluminum tables and chairs. Her fair skin had turned red with strain, veins bulging from her temples and forehead, eyes piercing. Both of her hands were reaching out towards him as if she was attempting to wrangle him by the neck.

Force-choke, I realized, my strange obsession with Force-users providing me with information I wish now I’d never been privy to. I’d heard that she had some anger problems when she was a Padawan, but that seemed more like myth than anything else. I believed it, though, because after about thirty seconds of the man choking, Stella began to scream a deathly horrid scream. It’s the ugliest sound I’ve ever heard. Sometimes when I watch the recording, I have to mute it or skip that part.

After about ten seconds, the man collapsed and Stella’s scream cracked into weeping. I was staring at her, according to the recording, but all I can remember is how horrified I was looking at her. She was no longer beautiful, no longer vibrant, no longer a darling or a hero. She was a weeping child curled into the fetal position, broken. Apparently I recorded her like that for another minute before dropping my gaze and flipping the device off.

She hasn’t been seen in public since, not making her way to the front lines of what we’re calling the Third Sith War. Rumors say she’s locked herself in the Jedi infirmary, or the Jedi Council has locked her there, protecting everyone, including herself, from her dark side. The consensus is that the Sith was there to make a public assassination, an event set to break the morale of the galaxy. Even though he ultimately failed, the fall of Stella Pascal is probably a more devastating event than her death ever could have been.

Now I don’t know what to do with this tape. I know I could sell it to a major media corporation for millions, or make a documentary out of the thing. But that doesn’t really seem right. Part of me wants to give it to the Jedi Temple to give to Stella, but I don’t know that she wants to relive that day. So, I’ve kept it to myself, watching it almost once a week, still fascinated by that event.

Even though in my head I chastise myself and the rest of the crowd for stupidly putting ourselves in harm’s way, something tells me that I might do the same today. Though there’s a war spreading across the galaxy, apart from one assassination attempt, we’ve remained relatively safe here on Coruscant. Besides the Stella Pascal episode, Coruscant sees the war through the lens of the HoloNet. It hasn’t registered. We’re not nearly as afraid or horrified as we should be. I guess that’s what happens when you’re rich and comfortable for hundreds of years: everything seems like entertainment.