A Young Girl’s War Between the Stars
16
Mandalore, Sundari Outskirts, 42 BBY.
Jaster Mereel sat in his tent, sipping a drink as he went over the notes of the day’s events. Leaning back in his camp chair, he sighed as he stretched, enjoying being out of his armor for the day.
The Jedi had shown up to the negotiations and separated their two groups, so they could speak privately. Jaster had spent most of the day speaking with the young Master Sifo-Dyas, outlining exactly what it was his side wanted. He had thought that the True Mandalorians’ wants were simple, but the longer he and those close to him spoke with the Jedi, the more complicated things seemed to get.
Jedi do tend to complicate things, he mused, thinking back on the other Jedi Master with them. He recognized Dooku, of course. The man hadn’t changed much since the last time Jaster saw him, even if Jaster himself had a few more gray hairs. Galidraan could have been a disaster, but thankfully the old Jedi Master had seen reason. When it came to light that the call for aid to the Jedi had come not from the lawful government of Galidraan or from oppressed citizens in need of aid, but rather Deathwatch scum trying to use the Jedi to kill the True Mandalorians on the planet working a job, Master Dooku had been rightfully perturbed. Together, they had driven most of the Deathwatch off of the planet—those they didn’t kill, anyway.
Hearing footsteps at the front of his large tent, Jaster looked up as Jango pushed his way inside. He slugged back the last of his glass and put the tablet down, grabbing a second glass and filling it and his own, before offering the second to Jango. He studied the man who he’d taken in as a son as Jango pulled his helmet off, brushed his hair out of his eyes, and took the drink. Jaster raised an eyebrow when Jango slugged the drink back and poured another.
A grin pulled at Jaster’s lips as he took a sip, before asking, “Surely one Jedi youngling couldn’t have been that bad.”
Jango sent Jaster a knowing look, then shook his head. “It wasn’t what you’re thinking. I was never that bad—”
“You were a moody little shit as a teenager,” Jaster countered and, after a moment, Jango grudgingly nodded. “Why do you think we spent so much time around cantinas, boy? It was so you’d run off, get drunk, get laid, and get that shit out of your system.”
“Yeah, that’s fair,” Jango grunted. “But no, she wasn’t like that.” He grinned, “But I’ll let you see for yourself. She’s outside. I told her you’d tell her about Revan and Canderous Ordo. Apparently, the Jedi have been neglecting their own history.”
Jaster frowned at that, wondering if it was an issue with the youngling’s education, or a symptom of some larger problem within the Jedi Order. If it was the first, that was easily remedied. If it was the second, however, then that may explain some things. It also didn’t bode particularly well for negotiations. But he’d wait and see.
“Alright. Bring her in.”
Jango nodded and started for the entrance, only to pause and turn. “One more thing. She’s blooded.”
That made Jaster sit up a bit straighter. “That so?” he asked, and Jango nodded. “She seem off?”
The younger man barked a laugh. “Depends on what you mean. She doesn’t seem broken up about it, or like she’s gone stab happy. But she gets these moments…” He trailed off, shivering once. “It’s fucking unsettling. It’s like looking at some apex predator cub.”
Scoffing, Jaster waved towards the entrance. “Alright, bring her in and let papa deal with the scary little girl.”
“Oh fuck you,” Jango rolled his eyes, stomping towards the entrance as Jaster laughed behind him.
Jango pushed open the tent flap and waved the young girl in. She followed Jango in and as she did, Jaster looked her over. She was small—young too. Maybe ten galactic standard years at most, but probably younger.
White hair, silver-blue eyes, pinkish red skin but otherwise human standard. He recognized her species, of course—Jaster was a well-traveled man and knew a Zeltron on sight; after all, he had shared the company of more than one in the past and they were always a special kind of fun. However, this one didn’t have the same feeling to her that he got from her people normally. She looked just as serious now as she had when he’d first seen her with the other Jedi.
She wore what looked to be the typical Jedi robes, little different from those of the other Jedi she’d come in with, in white with a red under robe peeking through at the collar. A lightsaber hung from either hip, the handle on one of them a bit longer than the other.
She looked around the tent with interest, her eyes sweeping over the room and taking in everything in a single pass before settling on Jaster. Jango left her standing in front of Jaster’s seat while he moved behind Jaster and poured himself another drink. The girl fell into what Jaster recognized as parade rest and waited.
Jaster finished the last of his drink and set the glass aside, before leaning forward a bit in his chair. “Tanya, wasn’t it?”
“Yes sir,” she answered simply, holding his gaze and waiting.
Considering for a moment, he asked, “How did you like today’s lesson?”
“It was quite informative,” she smiled, and Jaster felt himself smiling in response. It really was quite charming, especially the way she lit up immediately, the entirely too serious mien falling away for what he was expecting to see from a child her age. “I’ll be happy to get a bit more practice in with blasters, but I’m ready to move on to demolitions and sapping.”
Jaster blinked, confused as he looked between her and Jango. “You’ve only handled a blaster for a day.”
“She doesn’t need more,” Jango grunted, grabbing a chair and moving it over to sit beside Jaster. He gestured vaguely at the other few chairs folded up along the wall and, taking the hint, Tanya pulled one over with the Force and unfolded it in the air, catching it and sitting down at the invitation.
“What do you mean, she doesn’t need more? Even a natural takes months to learn a new weapon. You should know this by now,” Jaster sent Jango a glare, wondering if the man was shirking his duty. It wasn’t like him to do so, but that was one of the few explanations Jaster could come up with for him not wanting to go back to training her with blasters. The other big one being that he just didn’t like her. But that didn’t actually seem to be the case. They seemed to get along well enough. There were no glares, no overt hostility.
“I mean, she hit every target I put in front of her, at every range, out to the limit of whatever weapon she was firing. Dead center, every time. Stationary or moving targets. Standing, prone, crouched, running, blindfolded. I thought it was just a Jedi thing, but no. She says she did it all with math,” Jango gestured in Tanya’s direction with his glass, nearly sloshing its contents out onto the tent floor. “Never seen anything like it.”
Jango hesitated for just a moment, before adding, “I wanted to test, so we switched a couple of the blasters over to training mode. Jaster, she shot blaster bolts out of the air.”
“I don’t believe it,” Jaster scoffed.
Tanya frowned at that, but remained silent. Jango laughed and pulled his blaster out of its holster. Switching it over to training mode, he tossed it to Tanya, who caught it with the Force and brought it to her hand. “Test her yourself, if you don’t—”
Jaster drew and fired from the blaster at his hip, aiming just to the side of her head. He didn’t take the time to switch it over to training mode, simply because he didn’t want to warn her ahead of time.
The girl’s reflexes were faster, her own blaster coming up faster than Jaster could draw. Playing it back in his head after the fact, she had fired an instant before he did. His bolt hit hers and detonated with a flash and a loud boom that rattled the tent walls.
The follow up shots, Jaster wasn’t expecting, but he liked her initiative! He rolled out of his seat as her aim shifted to him, thumb flicking the thing to low power mode as he returned fire, her shots slipping by so narrowly that the only reason she missed was because she hadn’t expected him to be that fast. The next two shots caught him in either knee as they were moving, but he ignored them.
To his surprise, one of the lightsabers leapt off her belt and into her hand, filling the room with a snap-hiss and a hum, and silver-white light as she slapped his bolts out of the air. He flicked the blaster over to full auto and squeezed the trigger, only for her to close the short distance between them in the blink of an eye, that white-silver blade hitting his wrist and forcing his aim off over her shoulder, while her other hand came up and leveled the blaster in her hand in his face.
That was when Jaster saw it. What he thought had unnerved Jango. The girl’s smile, which had been one of the sweetest things he’d seen in an age when she was happily talking earlier, had changed. Her eyes were wide open, staring him down with a look that only bore a passing resemblance to a smile. No, it was the sort of smile one saw on some apex predators, right before they ripped someone’s throat out.
“That was fun! Shall we reset and go again?”
The enthusiasm in that question bothered Jaster. He’d seen battle maniacs before, so he knew the type, but this one had them beat. It was clear she loved what she did. But to enjoy it that much, and be that good at it, at her age…
Where did the Jedi find this girl?! he wondered, holstering his sidearm and easing back. Seeing that, she pouted minutely and tucked away her lightsaber, before making her way over to return Jango’s blaster.
“Some other time, perhaps,” Jaster murmured, before an idea occurred. His men could always use more training and they’d probably enjoy a chance to train against a Jedi who wasn’t actively trying to kill them. That, and the absolute humiliation of losing to a little girl would be hilarious and keep him stocked up on insults to motivate them for years to come. “Maybe I’ll talk to the men and see if they would be interested.”
“That sounds good,” she nodded, the happy smile returning, as opposed to the murdery one.
Jaster turned and met Jango’s eyes and an entire conversation passed between them silently. Jaster wasn’t too proud to acknowledge when he was wrong, but Jango’s respect for Jaster meant he wouldn’t push the issue. Apology and understanding passed between them and Jaster said, “Proceed however you think is best.”
“Understood,” Jango nodded.
Turning back to Tanya, Jaster asked, “So, Jango told me you’ve an interest in history?”
“I do,” the girl agreed, nodding eagerly. “I have yet to attend any lessons on history at the academy, if they hold them at all. I’m uncertain on that. I would need to ask Obi-wan or one of the Masters to verify one way or the other. It could be that they leave it up to self-study, or perhaps they focus on practical aspects first.” A rueful look crossed her face and her head tilted slightly to the right. “Or rather, that’s where I’ve focused the majority of my training efforts—into practical skills. I’ve prioritized learning how to stay alive and perfecting the means to do so and now I find myself lacking in areas where my peers may be more well-rounded.”
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“Well, if you don’t mind listening to an old man ramble on about the good old days,” Jaster began, and Tanya shook her head.
“Not at all. Please. Whatever you’re willing to teach.”
“Have you eaten yet?” Jaster asked, and Tanya shook her head. He glanced at Jango and the other man left to rustle up some food. “Now, where should I begin?” Humming, Jaster thought it over for a moment before asking, “Are you aware of what happened between the Jedi and us Mandalorians two years ago?”
Tanya shook her head in the negative. “No. Something happened?”
“Mm. About twenty years ago, I became Mand’alor and united many of the fractured Mandalorian clans. They had fallen into banditry, piracy, pillaging. They knew nothing of honor. I wrote the Supercommando Codex, outlining a code of honor for how a Mandalorian should conduct themselves as honorable mercenaries. I then formed this group, the Haat Mando’ade. The True Mandalorians. Unfortunately, there was opposition. I’m not talking about the duchess, Satine Kryze and her New Mandalorian pacifist faction,” he barely resisted rolling his eyes at the word.
“If some of the Mandalorians don’t want to fight, that should be their right. I have no desire to force them onto the front lines. No, our disagreement stems from the fact that Kryze would see us all disarmed, our entire society made toothless. Those like us, who want to fight for a cause and get paid to do it, would be relegated to farmers and bureaucrats under her idea of how our government should be run. But Kryze isn’t the problem. Though we butt heads, I believe we can come to an agreement where they do their thing and we do our thing. The problem is another group, a bunch of bandits playing at being an army, under the command of Tor Vizsla. They call themselves Kyr’tsad—the Death Watch.”
This time, he did spit the word. “Vizsla and the idiots following him want a return to the glory days of the Mandalorian Crusaders. They want to turn the banditry and piracy into galactic conquest. I don’t want that. Kryze doesn’t want that. You Jedi don’t want that, because it means we’d be shooting at everything that moves. That’s no way for our people to live. The last time that happened, one of your own came and shattered the Mandalorians into the clans. I’d really like to avoid the second coming of Revan, considering we haven’t truly reunited in the several thousand years since then.”
Nodding, Tanya asked, “And the events of two years ago?”
“Galidraan. The Death Watch tried to bait a trap and use the Jedi to finish us off. We got lucky. Your Master Dooku was there. We caught Vizsla and his people red handed and drove them off the planet.”
“I see,” Tanya murmured, crossing her arms over her chest, one hand coming up to brush her bottom lip with one finger. “So this entire conflict comes back to Jedi intervention.”
“Yes, but don’t think it was a bad thing. Revan did us a favor. If he hadn’t broken up the Mandalorians, the old Empire would have eventually set their sights on us and wiped us out. One of our own, Canderous Ordo, traveled with him for a time…”
Jango returned with food for all of them and set up a table for them. They sat and ate, and Jaster talked. The girl listened, occasionally nodding along, sometimes asking questions. When the food was finished, Jaster wound down and sent her on her way with Jango, to return her to her delegation in Sundari—with a copy of the Supercommando Codex sent to her tablet.
He tidied up the tent, then set to work digging through his documents. The girl seemed interested in continuing these little chats and Jaster enjoyed it, so he wanted to have something on hand the next time she showed up.
Let’s see… Oh, how about the time Revan went dark side and the Jedi tried to cover it up?
“I’ll meet you here tomorrow morning,” Jango said as I stood up out of the copilot’s seat.
“I’ll be here,” I nodded, making my way out of the spacecraft and sealing it up again, before heading for our ship. I heard Jango take off again as I punched in the code and made my way inside, locking up behind me. Heading to my quarters, I opened the ceiling vent and removed the oddly-shaped holocron I’d hidden away there.
Immediately, I felt it use the Force to probe me, then another tendril to poke at my mind briefly. A moment later, the Force projection of Ajunta Pall came into being. I settled down onto my meditation rug and waited. The Gatekeeper paced back and forth for a moment, considering. “Mandalorians, huh? It is as Jaster Mereel said, Keeper. They were a problem in the past, until Revan fragmented them.”
“How did he do that?”
Pall’s lips twitched into a smirk briefly, before smoothing out. “He took up a fallen Mandalorian’s mask on Cathar and together, with his friend and fellow Jedi Knight Malak, formed the Revanchist faction—made up of other rogue Jedi who were tired of the Jedi Council sitting on their hands and doing only the bare minimum in the fight against the Mandalorians. You could call them Jedi Crusaders. The Council only grudgingly allowed it, after Revan provided evidence of the Mandalorian genocide of the Cathar. That is the past glory these ‘Death Watch’ cultists seek. Following that, he and the Revanchists took control of nearly a third of the Republic Military and fought the Mandalorians for four years, until the Battle of Malachor V. There, Revan challenged and defeated Mandalore the Ultimate, the leader of the Mandalorian forces. He claimed the Ultimate’s mask, the symbol of unity and leadership of the Mandalorians. With Ultimate’s defeat and his mask taken, and Revan refusing to lead them, they fragmented. It wasn’t until Canderous Ordo claimed the title of Mandalore that they managed to reunite a few of the clans.”
Tucking his hands behind his back, Pall continued, “On a long enough timeline, history will repeat itself. Until then, you’ll find that it sometimes rhymes. Jedi. Sith. Mandalorians. Our history is intertwined and goes back thousands of years. For you see, on that that day when he defeated Mandalore the Ultimate, Revan learned the truth. Ultimate himself had been manipulated by the Sith, hidden away in the Unknown Regions. The Mandalorian Wars were a Sith plot to weaken the Republic and the galaxy at large, so they could move in and conquer.”
I hummed, taking that in and adding it to what I already knew about the Trade Federation and all of the moves they had made, along with all the other coincidences that all seemed to line up in such a way as to benefit someone looking to weaken the Republic and start a war. The Gatekeeper likely knew what I knew as well, given it had gained access to my mind and I had no way to stop it yet.
“You suspect Sith involvement, manipulating the Death Watch? Trying to return the Mandalorians to their old ways and sow chaos, then take advantage?”
Pall smiled. “It’s possible. You have no way to verify that at the moment. Finding a Sith in hiding is a tricky matter at the best of times.”
And yet, it has obviously been done before, or there would still be a Sith controlled Empire, I mused. Studying the projection, I eventually guessed, “Revan did. He tracked them down. How did he do it and what did he find?”
“Revan and Malak made their way into the Unknown Regions, following the trail of Sith influence on the war. They used a combination of the Force and intelligence gathering, rooting out Sith assets and agents and following the trail. Until eventually, they found themselves in the heart of a reconstituted Sith Empire, building up for a war. They were subsequently captured and brought before the then Emperor, who used Sith sorcery and very dark Force powers to dominate their minds and turn them both to the dark side. They were named Dark Lords of the Sith—Darth Revan and Darth Malak. Then they were sent back to the Republic to do what most Sith lords do, and in so doing further pave the way for an invasion.
“Unfortunately for the Emperor, Revan and Malak broke free of his control and rebelled. They took the Star Forge and created their own Empire in Republic space and went to war against the Republic. Revan took Malak as his apprentice, but was betrayed and turned over to the Jedi, who then imprisoned him and wiped his mind, only for Revan to eventually regain his memories. His identity was revealed to his allies when they confronted Malak, who captured Bastila Shan, a Jedi Revan held dear, and attempted to dominate her mind. Revan came to her rescue and -heh- with the power of love, freed her from Malak’s control. Malak was killed and Revan redeemed in the eyes of the galaxy. And let that be a lesson to you, Keeper. Mind control is a fickle art, useful only against the weak-minded. Those controlled will fight it until eventually, they break free, or someone frees them. Memories can be recovered and the very soul itself remembers. Seduction, on the other hand… It is a useful tool that comes in many forms. Very few will fight against something they want.”
“So they weren’t actually hiding, so much as they were in a part of the galaxy few venture into and which remains largely uncharted.”
“For good reason. The Unknown Regions are difficult to access. In order to get there, you must first navigate the tangle, or the Western Barrier—a wall of hyperspace anomalies bisecting the galaxy west of the Deep Core. Though, perhaps it would be more accurate to say that it is difficult for the Unknown Regions to access our space. I called it a wall for a reason. There are those who believe it was created with the intent of keeping something locked out of our part of the galaxy. Beyond remnants of old foes, like the Rakata, the Infinite Empire, the Eternal Empire, and the like there are horrors out there the likes of which even the strongest Sith Lord or Jedi Master would hesitate in the face of.”
“Security through obscurity and difficulty of access,” I murmured. “Do you believe it applies here?”
“Given the difficulty of traversing the tangle, I doubt it. If a hypothetical Sith were on the rise here, it is much more likely to be of the ‘home grown’ variety. There are relics, writings, holocrons, Force ghosts, and other things just lying around abandoned, waiting for someone to pick them up or come into contact with them, any of which could lead a young, impressionable Force sensitive down the path of the dark side. Given how long the problems you’ve noted have been building, this potential Sith would likely be fairly far along into their studies and building their power. If we assume that the Trade Federation, the issues with Serenno, the influence on Coruscant and attempts to hide information concerning the events transpiring on Serenno, and potentially this rogue Mandalorian faction are all connected, then that points to a Sith with political ties. Manipulative. Patient. Bold enough to hide in plain sight. They would need to be, in order to build the sort of connections that would give them access to the Trade Federation and people of influence on Coruscant. It would not be unreasonable to assume that they have some hold over the Republic Senate. In fact, the Senate is almost too good a target to pass up. And considering that some of those involved in the events surrounding Serenno were senators, it stands to reason that he or she has already infiltrated their ranks, spreading subversion.”
That seemed reasonable and, being honest, many of Pall’s conclusions put voice to thoughts and suspicions I had been having on the matter. It was entirely possible that he had fished those out of my head and was playing them up, arguing towards the conclusion he wanted me to make by using my own thoughts to support his reasoning, but the problem was that I couldn’t actually find fault with the logic. Nor could I see the potential benefit of using the information to attempt to manipulate me, when it was realistically plausible—beyond making the most logical guess, being right, then using that as a basis to instill trust in the future to play a long con.
It was something to be wary and mindful of, but short of not interacting with the holocron, there was little I could do about it. I suspected the holocron was attempting to manipulate me, but I wanted the information it contained.
After all, interacting with others, or even choosing not to, were forms of manipulation. Every conversation. Every interaction or non-interaction. Everyone wanted something from or for everyone else and we used those interactions to achieve our goals.
The Gatekeeper entity within the holocron’s stated goals were to guard the knowledge within it and pass that knowledge on. Of course convincing me that it could be relied upon to provide sound advice would be in its best interests towards furthering those goals. So with that in mind, I would take what it said under advisement while working to gather more data.
“What do you advise?”
Pall hummed, before nodding once. “Wait and see. Gather more information. Be wary of anyone offering favors—especially anyone with any position of power within the Republic. A proper Sith would have connections within the Jedi Order and would know your group is here. They obviously want Serenno to fall under their control to use for strategic purposes, but that doesn’t mean they won’t sacrifice that plan for something more valuable. For instance, gaining the support of one or more Jedi Masters and potential influence over the future generation of Jedi in the form of two padawans. You in particular would be an almost irresistible target for a Sith Lord to attempt to seduce and corrupt, given your nature.”
“And how would a ‘proper Sith’ exploit the situation and make an attempt on the Masters?”
The projection chuckled. “It depends on the Sith in question. This one seems to believe themselves clever. The clever ones always over-complicate things. Sith Lords of the past would have taken a multi-pronged attack. The first, an actual attack upon your forces. If you died, you weren’t worth their time in the first place. If you survived, the next ‘attack’ would be to approach in friendship, offering favors and aid, attempting to seduce your Masters into a mutually beneficial relationship, with them never knowing who it was they were allied to. Over time, they would ask for the occasional favor that would benefit them—solving conflicts that on the face of it the Jedi would support, but which would likely buy them more political clout, or having the Jedi add their political support by championing their cause.”
Slowly nodding, I murmured, “Beware Greeks bearing gifts. So whoever approaches offering to help us resolve the Serenno situation is our enemy. A potential Sith.”
“The enemy themselves, or their agent.”
“Very well. And today’s lesson?”
Pall hummed. “Force Telekinesis is one of the most overlooked skills of a Jedi or a Sith. However, in the right moment, it could be the difference between life or death. Since we spoke of Revan, I will teach you of one of his skills—one shared with Darth Traya.” Gesturing towards my belt, he asked, “What is the point of more weapons than hands to use them? That is the idea behind the skill of using Force Telekinesis to control multiple weapons simultaneously, allowing you to strike from unpredictable angles, block attacks, deflect blaster bolts, and use all of your other lightsaber skills without holding the weapon in your hand. Master the skill of Force Telekinesis, and controlling your weapons with it, and you will be able to overpower others attempting to wrest control of your weapons from you.”
The projection grinned then and added, “Then, add a blaster or two to the mix. Combine the ability to control and direct them telekinetically with your ability to acquire targets and fire accurately…”
“Yes, I see how that could be handy,” I grinned. “I’ll start immediately.”
“Good. One other skill Revan excelled in was farsight. I believe Master Sifo-Dyas has already spoken to you about precognition and has had you training your battle precognition.” When I nodded, he continued, “Then let us focus on one of the lesser used aspects of farsight. Certainly, it allows one an ability to use foresight, to see glimpses of the future. However, that is sometimes inconsistent, especially with visions further out into the future. The much more practical and reliable use for the skill is to view people, places, and things in the present, as they are right now. That is, clairvoyance. Such visions of the present are almost always accurate. In this way, you can see, hear, and sometimes sense what your target is doing or planning. Why don’t you try it now? Close your eyes and focus on someone familiar to you. Reach out with the Force and try to see them as they are in this very moment.”
Nodding, I did as he suggested, closing my eyes and focusing on Obi. Reaching out, I felt the Force respond. I saw in my mind’s eye Obi-wan sitting on a couch, Satine Kryze on her lap as the two kissed—
Coughing, I forced the vision away and focused on the present, not the… immediate future, given the context clues I saw seemed to point at that event potentially happening within the next few months. My vision shifted to Obi laying in her bed in our shared hotel room, her face twisted—
Blushing, I quickly cut off the vision. “Yes, I think I understand that skill. Let’s move on to something else!”
I would take my time and linger in the ship a bit longer before heading back to the hotel. Give Obi time to finish her private time and let the room air out. And put the sight and sound of my friend firmly out of my mind.
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