A Young Girl’s War Between the Stars

  27

  Serenno, 40 BBY/960 GSC.

  I sighed as I stepped out of the amazingly hot, water-based shower in Ramil’s former estate, which Master Dooku’s sister Jenza had given to us to stay in until we were ready to leave. Moving over to my bed, letting my towel fall to the ground along the way, I grabbed the red silk robe laid out there pulled it on.

  Sighing, I flopped back onto the sinfully soft, fluffy bed and closed my eyes. Supper would be served soon so I couldn’t fall asleep, but a light nap and some meditation wouldn’t hurt—

  A knock sounded at my door and I frowned, reaching out to feel the person on the other side. Raising an eyebrow when I found it was Master Dyas, I stood and made my way to the door. The man smiled down at me as I opened it. He had the hood on his cloak up and glanced back down the hall. It was at this point that I realized that this was the first time I’d seen him since I left him on top of that tank to go after the dragon.

  “Mind if I come in?”

  I shook my head and moved aside, letting him in and closing the door. I retook my seat on the bed as he pulled out a chair from beneath a writing desk in the corner and sat down straddling it backwards, before pulling his hood back.

  Studying him for a moment, I finally said, “You disappeared after the battle. The Mandos sent to report in said you were gone.”

  He winced, nodding even as he grinned. “Ah, yeah, about that… Could you do me a favor?”

  “Of course.”

  Master Dyas chuckled, asking, “Not gonna ask what I want first?”

  “You are a Master in good standing. You’ve also treated me fairly and done much to help me since I joined the Order. I’m certainly curious, but sure you would not ask me to do anything you didn’t feel was necessary.”

  Master Dyas nodded. “We both know a war is coming.” I nodded in agreement, and after a moment, he continued. “I’ve made some arrangements to secure troops and supplies for the war. But for this to work, it can’t leak.”

  “Of course. Otherwise you’ve given up the element of surprise,” I agreed. “I assume you’re not here to silence me and instead ask for my silence?”

  The man winced. “A… bit more than that, actually.” When I cocked an eyebrow and motioned for him to continue, he went on. “I’ve spoken with Jango and he’s passed the word to the other Mandos. In a day or two, when they’re sorting through the wreckage, they’ll discover the crushed remains of my body alongside several others. Utterly unidentifiable, of course—except for my robe and my lightsaber. Neither you nor the other Jedi on planet have seen me, until now. When the body is discovered, I need you to confirm that you think you felt my death in the Force, when the dragon attacked. You’ll put that in your report and, if questioned by the council, that’s the story. As far as you know, I died in battle.”

  “Very well,” I nodded, before sending him a smile. “Your loss is a blow to us all.”

  “Haha. Thanks. That’s just the first part, though.”

  “There’s more?”

  “Yes. You’ll be returning to Coruscant with the others to give the Council your report. When you get there, I need you to visit the archives. There’s a planet there that I’d like you to remove. The planet Kamino, in the Kamino System, in the Abrion sector. If you can, it’d help if you could get in and wipe it from the galactic mapping system too. I seem to recall you had some experience with that recently,” he grinned.

  “I know who to talk to to get it done as a favor,” I confirmed.

  “Good. That’s good. There shouldn’t be any trace of the money in their systems and everything I borrowed should be back in place by the time I withdraw what I’ve made. I’ll send your share to your personal account and you can do as you like with it.” Considering for a moment, he nodded. “I believe that’s everything.”

  I nodded as Master Dyas stood, joining him as he headed for the door. Holding out a hand, I pulled one of my lightsabers over and snagged it out of the air, before offering it to him. “If you’re giving yours up, you shouldn’t travel without one.”

  Master Dyas chuckled, shaking his head. “Thanks. I appreciate the offer, but one of the things you learn after being a Jedi for a while is to always make a spare and keep it hidden away in case of emergencies.” Reaching down, he patted my shoulder. “Take care, Tanya.”

  “You as well, Master Dyas,” I nodded, and the man turned and left, closing the door silently behind himself. I sent the lightsaber back to the shelf and grabbed my computer off the desk table, since I’d been reminded of the need. Sitting on the bed, I began working up my report for the events of Serenno…

  With Ramil’s mercenaries defeated and having fled, his droid army destroyed, and the man himself dead at the hands of some well-meaning but perhaps a bit over-zealous soldier who shall remain entirely nameless, that didn’t mean things went back to normal immediately.

  Jenza’s government took control and began the process of getting everything back on track. That included finding and freeing those remaining people who had been taken as hostages who had just been left abandoned by the Abyssins in accommodations little better than a prison. All of the people who had been conscripted against their will were offered amnesty and allowed to return home to their families, to many teary-eyed reunions.

  Of course, someone had to vet that there weren’t a bunch of volunteers, sympathizers, quislings, and true believers of Ramil’s cause trying to hide out among the conscripts. There were a lot of them, but thankfully, the process to get them screened was simple, and we had four—technically five, but Master Dooku was occupied—people who could easily discern truth from lies among our number. We got the process down to a simple Q&A session, with three questions. After that, it was just a matter of moving them through quickly. Going eight hours a day, accounting for delays and dealing with the occasional traitor, we were able to do about nine hundred per day.

  While we handled that particular problem at Master Dooku’s request, the older man spent his time with his sister and occasionally Satine and Jaster, talking politics. I wasn’t privy to those discussions, nor did I particularly care to be. I didn’t really need to know their plans for rebuilding Serenno unless I was going to be involved somehow.

  Jango and the other Mandos spent their time scavenging all of the leftover gear from both the Abyssins and the droid army they could. I’d even heard some talk that they were working on stripping down the dragon and removing its hide to cure to use as leather parts in their armor—specifically, for the under layer to mount it on, if anyone wanted it. It was plasma resistant, though not to the same degree as beskar, but it was still better than most of the stuff they wore under their armor. I’d put in my own request for some, since I couldn’t actually get out and go harvest it myself. I could see the potential uses for it and I’d like to have materials on hand when I stopped growing eventually.

  Also… being able to say I had a dragon hide jacket or something would be very cool.

  When I wasn’t working to help screen the amnesty candidates for traitors, I spent most of my time either practicing or meditating. For some reason, Master Kostana had taken an interest in me. Though, that may have had something to do with Master Dyas and his ‘death.’

  Two days after my secret meeting with him, the Mandos found Master Dyas’s body, just as he said they would—or at least, the body he had staged and left behind. The funeral was a short affair, held at night. What was left of the body was wrapped in cloth and burned on a funeral pyre. Somehow, his lightsaber crystal found its way from Master Kostana into my hands since the saber itself was crushed and damaged beyond repair and, unwilling to turn it down and appear suspicious since the man was a friend, I accepted.

  Ever since then, Master Kostana had been… I wanted to say training me, but it would be more accurate to call it testing me. I was a puzzle and, as I’d found with so many other Jedi Masters, that bothered them in a way that they couldn’t just leave alone. They had to poke, prod, and pick away until they saw what was inside and if I didn’t immediately fold to their testing, they seemed to take that as either a challenge, an affront to their authority, or something to be deeply concerned about—at least, from what I had learned from my interactions with the High Council to date.

  She tried a variety of ways to get me to react. Intense training that even I would have looked at skeptically and called approaching the line of abuse. Intentionally emotionally charged debates that would have devolved into shouting matches and, with most Jedi younglings, have seen things flying off the shelves. ‘Thought experiments’ and ‘lessons’ like the entirely fictional ‘Darth Sakia’ in attempt to convince me she herself was a Sith and to panic and make a move against her, or perhaps to show interest in the dark side and join her.

  For some reason, my refusal to react emotionally to her prodding or take the bait only made her more concerned.

  …It may also have had something to do with the fact that I won those duels. Which wasn’t all that surprising to me, given that she was an archivist and researcher, but apparently it meant something to her.

  Thankfully, not all of my time was taken up by Master Kostana. I still got practice in with the Mandalorians and spent time with Obi—though the latter was most often accompanied by Satine, and there was a feeling in the air between those two. Like they both knew it was going to have to end soon, so they were making the most of the time they had together… which left me feeling like a third wheel most of the time and wanting to leave.

  Unfortunately for me, saving her life had changed Satine’s tune a bit in regard to me. She was being friendly and genuinely making an effort, and given who she was and her relationship with Obi, I couldn’t just blow her off—which made things a bit awkward.

  Eventually though, things wrapped up and we found ourselves gathered in the field in front of the villa where we had been staying, preparing to leave. I found myself standing beside Master Qui-Gon as the others said their goodbyes.

  Nearby, Master Dooku and his sister Jenza exchanged a hug while Master Kostana watched on, her face calm, but an undercurrent of uncertainty, doubt, and fear in her emotions. Quietly, Jenza asked, “Do you really have to go?”

  “I need to return to the temple to make my report to the Council,” he answered, letting her go. “If I can, I’ll return to visit. If not, I’ll keep in touch by holo.”

  Jenza sighed, letting her exasperation show. “The offer stands. If you get tired of the Jedi and decide it’s time to retire, you’ll always have a place here. I would happily stand aside and let you take your place as count, as is your right as the eldest.”

  I shifted my gaze to where Obi and Satine were saying their own goodbye. Satine would be flying back to Mandalore with her people and we wouldn’t be stopping to see her off. Our job was done there and, while we might go back some day, it wouldn’t be any time soon. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I could feel the emotions involved, and did my best to tune them out to try to give them some semblance of privacy.

  Master Qui-Gon let out a quiet chuckle and I sent him an inquisitive look. Quietly, he said, “I remember the first time I had to say goodbye to a girl. It was hard. If she had asked, I might have stayed.”

  “I’m sure that was far from the last time, either,” I murmured, and the man turned an amused look at me, before tapping the side of his nose.

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  “A gentleman does not kiss and tell, nor should a lady,” he said, before his grin grew a bit wider. “But I will say that it got easier after that.”

  I let out an annoyed breath, a bit of my frustration showing through. “It seems… stupid.”

  “Why do you think that?” he asked, no judgment in his tone—nor did he radiate that smug sense that he knew best that some of the Masters I’d interacted with had. Instead, it was just patience and calm.

  “The Order forbids attachments.”

  It wasn’t a question, but he nodded. “It does.”

  “But we’re human, or close enough. We are social creatures. It is our very nature to grow attached. A biological impetus. A product of who knows how many thousands of years of evolution. The majority of humans are at their best, fulfilled, happy, and productive when they have those attachments. Soldiers fight harder and are proven to survive otherwise lethal wounds if they have someone to come home to. Parents find a well of strength and resolve within themselves that has nothing to do with the Force when their children are threatened.” Frowning, I crossed my arms and watched as Satine and Obi parted, the blonde heading for her ship with a final backwards look and Obi’s hands clenching the sides of her robe tightly as she watched and visibly forced herself not to follow.

  “It especially doesn’t make sense for Jedi. We have within our halls a group expressly selected for Force sensitivity and trained in its use. Force sensitives are rare as it is, but those with enough of a connection to the Force to do more than get a sense of intuition every now and then are even more rare. We should be encouraging attachments, especially among those who are inter-fertile, and making it easier for them to have families, creating more children who are almost guaranteed to be capable of using the Force—who would then go on to join the Order as well, have their own children, and so on and so forth as we expanded our numbers the natural way. So why aren’t we?”

  Master Qui-Gon hummed, nodding as he thought. “That is a complicated question with an even more complicated answer. The simplest explanation would be to say that attachments are dangerous for Force users, the same way any strong emotions are. As good and powerful as they can be, they can also hurt us, and everyone around us.”

  Glancing at me from the corner of his eye, he continued, “No one has said anything yet, but we all have an idea of what happened with the Tirra’Taka that enabled you to fly. You’ve said yourself that it’s a very Force intensive technique and in subsequent tests, you’ve only managed a minute or two of sustained flight at a time. And yet, when the dragon surfaced, you did much more than simply flying, for much longer.”

  “I did,” I confirmed.

  “Why do you think that is?”

  I didn’t need to think on it. I already knew. “Emotion.”

  “Just so. You were filled with the will to survive. It’s an emotion that is neither positive nor negative but can be used for either. In tapping into that emotion, you were able to stop a threat that could have gone on to end countless lives. That’s objectively a good thing. In the heat of the moment, you were driven to confront the thing making you afraid. Now, imagine that sort of power used for another purpose. Under other conditions. Suppose you get older and want to start a family of your own. You have a child yourself. Something happens, it doesn’t even have to be foul play—but something happens and your child dies. Overcome with grief and loss, you lash out with the Force and before you know it, you’ve smashed the town you called home to pieces and killed or injured everyone there. Your enjoyment of that attachment has led to a much greater suffering in the world around you, greater than all the good that was or might have come from it. All in a moment where emotions and the Force turned what would have been a simple outburst for anyone else into a catastrophe.”

  I frowned as I turned it over in my mind. Unfortunately, I couldn’t refute that logic—not at the moment. Not without doing more research. At least, not the underlying argument of emotions are fire and the Force is rocket fuel. There was another angle to approach it from, however. “That is what a community is for. Family. Friends. If one person feels grief, the others can pull them out of it.”

  “Sometimes,” Master Qui-Gon nodded. “And I’m sure that if we were very careful, we could probably manage it.” Sending me an amused look, he asked, “But not everyone is as careful as some. Eventually, one day, an accident would happen.”

  Narrowing my eyes, I retorted, “If I eat today, I’ll have to use the restroom tomorrow, so I shouldn’t. A month later, I’ll starve to death because I wasn’t taking care of a basic biological need. There has to be a way to balance needs and wants with caution and safety, but giving up the things you need or want isn’t the way.”

  “Mm. What if there were a way to have some attachments without growing too attached?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, and the man smiled.

  Holding out a hand, he said, “You could love someone, but when they die, or otherwise leave our lives,” he held out the other hand, “let them go.”

  I opened my mouth, only to pause. My teeth clicked shut as I considered it. Finally, I came to a conclusion. “That was the point you wanted to make the entire time.” When he simply smiled, I shook my head. “If you love something, let it go. That’s your answer? That the only way to have attachments is to accept that eventually, for one reason or another, they end?”

  “It’s one possible answer,” he shrugged. “Of course, it doesn’t apply to everything. There would obviously be situations where decisive action or retaliation would be required. But if we could learn to undertake those things without anger and hate in our hearts and accept that once it’s over, justice has been done, and then move on, then I believe we would be a step closer to a world where we could have attachments without endangering everyone around us.”

  “…Is this why they say you’re troublesome?”

  “Just one of many reasons, I’m sure,” the man laughed. Catching my eye, he nodded ahead, towards where Jaster and Jango were approaching, the younger man carrying a metal crate. “I’ll let you say your own goodbyes. I need to see to Obi-wan.”

  “Of course. Thank you for listening.”

  “Any time. A good Master should strive to help when they’re needed, even if it’s just to lend an ear—regardless of whether it’s a youngling, another Jedi, or even just someone in need. I hope you’ll keep it in mind when you become a Master yourself.”

  I nodded. “I will.”

  Master Qui-Gon left, giving a nod to the two Mandos as they passed each other and returned the gesture. Jaster stopped in front of me while Jango made his way up the ramp into my ship, where I heard him drop the box.

  “Was that my armor?” I asked, as Jango stepped out.

  “It’s in there, along with your share of the leather,” the younger man confirmed. “There’s a little something extra in there too. Thought you might like it.”

  “I still don’t see what you needed my armor for,” I sent the pair a skeptical look, and they only grinned. “What was the ‘extra?’”

  “You’ll see,” Jaster chuckled. “Now remember, we expect you back at some point. Come visit when you can. If you send me your general location, I can send you missions in whatever sector you’re near, if you’re looking for work and I happen to know of something out that way.”

  “Or if you need something done,” I nodded. “I imagine we’ll be on Coruscant for a while. I’m not certain about after. I’ll let you know.”

  “Remember, you’re a Mandalorian now. Do us proud.” The older man nodded, clapping me on the shoulder. “See you ‘round, kid.”

  Jaster turned and left, while Jango offered his hand and we shook. “Give us a call if you need something.”

  “Likewise.”

  Jango left as well, and I watched as they climbed into their transport. The Mandos took off first and were quickly out of sight. Qui-Gon returned with Obi, his hand on the older girl’s shoulder. “We’re all going to the same place. Tanya, do you mind if she travels with you?”

  Obi sent me a hopeful look and I nodded. “I don’t mind.”

  “Thank you,” he smiled, before giving Obi a little push in my direction. “Go ahead. We’ll catch up in orbit and we can all make the jump together.”

  “We’ll be waiting,” I confirmed, and headed up the ramp, Obi following. Finding the metal crate, I picked it up with the Force and made my way below deck. Setting it on the floor, I opened it up and paused as I spotted my armor laying on top, along with two pieces I hadn’t commissioned, and a data disk. The chest piece had been modified, adding a raised section in the middle that looked like a skull—a skull with four horns and four eye holes.

  I took a moment to pocket the disk wondering what was on it, then pull my robe top open and pull the chest piece back in place, securing it over my body stocking. The other pieces were a pair of pauldrons sized such that it should fit for several years without being so big as to look ridiculous right now or so small to be useless when I got older. One of them bore the same skull as the chest piece. That one, I attached to my robe, on the right shoulder. The other bore the same Mythosaur skull based insignia as Jaster’s armor and went on the left shoulder. Both of them, like my chest piece, were bare—neither painted nor chromed, instead having the natural gray pattern of beskar.

  Below the armor, I found a stack of far more leather than I was expecting. It was black and, contrary to my experience with the lizard when I’d killed it, supple and soft to the touch. All of the spikes had been removed, so the only thing marring the surface was the occasional bump. As before, when I touched it, I could feel the Force inside of it. This felt a bit dark—but not as dark as the two swords I’d gotten on Dathomir. Still, it was Force imbued, and pushing with my own energy showed it soaked it up well enough, so I imagined I could just fill it with my own power and have it feeling like a second skin with enough time spent wearing it.

  Closing up the box, I secured it to the deck so it wouldn’t move around, then made my way back up. Obi had secured a seat for herself and I hurried into the cockpit, closing the exterior hatch on the way. The usual preflight checks only took a moment since I’d checked it once already this morning, then we were lifting off.

  Masters Dooku and Qui-Gon joined us a few minutes later and I locked in the coordinates for Coruscant I was sent, then synced my ship’s FTL to theirs. Not long after, the ships all made the jump to hyperspace and the cabin was lit with blue. I pushed the seat back in its track and turned around, unbuckling and heading aft. Obi unstrapped herself and stood as well, moving the chair out of the way as I put the mat out on the floor. She smiled as I took out a candle and put it between us, lighting it with the Force as we sat down.

  We regarded each other in silence for a few moments before I decided to be the adult here. “We should talk.”

  The brunette winced, but nodded. Taking a breath, she let it out in a rush. “I’m sorry.”

  “What for?” I asked, wondering if she even knew what she was apologizing for.

  “I got swept up in everything and you were right and,” she clenched her fists in her robe and forced her mouth closed. I waited, giving her time to put her thoughts together. Finally, she said, “I thought, it felt like… you were being mean. Because you were angry.”

  I considered it, turning over the thought for a bit. Was I? No, I was trying to make a point. Satine was wrong. I wasn’t jealous of her spending time with Satine, that’s absurd. And even I was, which I was not, I wouldn’t let it affect my judgment or the way I treat people.

  Still… she may have had a point about apologizing. I had done so before, but we hadn’t had a chance to talk since. She needed to know why I was apologizing, because I didn’t want to start some cycle of every time I did something she didn’t like, she sulked until she got me to admit fault. I didn’t think she would, but the reality was, Obi was still a teen girl and probably not mature enough not to take the wrong lesson from that.

  “I’m sorry if I made you feel that way. It wasn’t my intent.” And maybe I could tell her a bit of the truth… “I wasn’t in a good mood when I came out of the tank. I’d had nothing but time to think. And you…”

  “Were being stupid?” she arched an eyebrow.

  “You were in your own head and feelings, and effectively shouting that you felt guilty in my face—over something that yes, I considered a bit stupid, because you were doing your job.”

  Obi frowned, but nodded. “I didn’t mean to—”

  “I know. I’m sorry I snapped.”

  Nodding, she murmured, “I shouldn’t have stayed angry at you. I should have just let it go.”

  I considered my response for a moment. Remembering Master Qui-Gon’s words, I chuckled quietly. “Live and learn.”

  We fell silent after that and, by unspoken agreement, began our meditation. I pulled my computation orb out and rested it in my lap, once more tracing the paths within it and filling out what I felt like I needed to, working with the Force to expand the intricate inscriptions within.

  The days of travel were filled with finishing out my report on the events that transpired between Mandalore and Serenno, shared meditation, the occasional bit of light sparring, in addition to conversation and shared time with Obi. Her emotions were once more threatening to drive me up the wall, but this time, they weren’t directed at me. She was sad that she had to part ways with Satine for now and likely wouldn’t see her any time soon. And while understandable… after the second night of sad Obi, I sat her down and had a talk with her, trying to impart the lesson Master Qui-Gon had given me to think on.

  That was easier said than done, unfortunately. So instead, I kept her as distracted as I could and tried to wear her out before bed with physical exercise, so she would fall into a mostly dreamless sleep.

  With all the time to meditate and work on my computation orb, I was starting to feel like I was finally making real progress on it now that I’d passed the first big hurdle of getting it to store and fix the Force and allow me to tap into it. Only… a few hundred more steps to go? I wasn’t entirely sure. It didn’t feel done. Perhaps a quarter of the way to being complete, more or less.

  One night, after our exercise and getting cleaned up, Obi came across the data disk I’d found with my armor and held it up, wagging it in the air. “What’s this?”

  “Hm?” I asked, looking it over, before remembering where it had come from. “I found it in the box with my armor and materials. I have no idea what’s on it.”

  “Let’s find out!” the girl grinned, making her way over to the holo projector and popping it in. We grabbed a pair of seats and sat down as it started to play out.

  It took a moment, but I recognized the scene eventually as I spotted Tor Vizsla standing in front of a holocom, and then myself being led into frame by Bo-Katan Kryze. I looked to Obi, before reaching for the holo projector. “Perhaps we shouldn’t—”

  “Shush,” she murmured, pushing my hand down, and I sighed.

  In the hologram, we watched as I cut my way out of my cuffs with a mage blade. The next several minutes were a high speed montage of pieced together footage from thirty or so different angles of the battle between me and the Death Watch. Each kill was shown from multiple angles, including the one that did them in if it was there. It all culminated in my showdown with the man himself.

  Unfortunately, it didn’t end there. No, it kept going through my little declaration and using Tor’s head like a football to scare Bo-Katan as she ran away. Finally though, it shut off.

  Obi stared at me.

  Covering my face with both hands, I was suddenly very glad that red was my natural skin tone. This. This is why we do not let Methe Tanya out of the box unless we absolutely need to!

  “I’m not sure what to say,” she murmured. Before I could answer, she grabbed me and pulled me into her lap, planting her chin on my head. “You’re kinda scary when you get serious, you know?”

  “Sorry?” I tried, not sure what to say to that.

  She was silent for a few moments, before digging her chin into the top of my head. “We’re definitely training more with lightsabers when we get back to the temple! And you have to show me how to do that shield thing!”

  I took the out I was offered and nodded. “I can try, but I can’t make any guarantees you’ll be able to learn it.”

  “That’s fine,” she agreed. “Now. Explain why you thought it was a good idea to take on something like three dozen Mandalorians solo instead of running away. You didn’t tell me it was that many!”

  I sighed, slumping where I sat. “I was fine.”

  “You were in a bacta tank for a week!” She squeezed harder. “And then there’s jumping out of a perfectly good space ship and into the black like some kind of lunatic!!! What were you thinking?!”

  This was not ideal, but… I’ll take Onee-wan being mad at me because she’s worried about me over being sulky and mopey any day.

  And if I was being honest with myself… Maybe it felt a little good to be fussed over sometimes. Every great now and then.