FIEB Chapter 53 (Patreon)

Dylan POV

I sat in one of the more comfortable chairs in the Arbiters HQ, slowly scrolling through the data the EPD system had collected over the last two days. Macky had helped me go through most of it earlier, but I still wanted to review everything myself one more time.

In those two days, I had significantly expanded the scope of the surveillance network. I'd also added a new module — a simple but highly effective scanner that functioned something like an X-ray, except it was designed specifically to detect tinkertech. With Mechu-deru, creating it had been almost ridiculously easy. The whole point had been to make sure I'd be notified the moment anything like Bakuda's bombs showed up again.

Even if they were inside people...

Luckily or unluckily, nothing of the sort had triggered during that period. I cracked my neck, feeling the accumulated tension from days of constant strain, then leaned back into the chair. Looking around the HQ, I felt a quiet sense of accomplishment. I'd used the downtime well. The old warehouse now had proper defenses — titanium-plated sections of armor, new sensor arrays, and several autocannons, both lethal and non-lethal, each controlled by a crude but functional pseudo-droid brain. I'd debated long and hard about including the lethal systems... but in the end, I'd installed them anyway. Better to have the option and not need it than the other way around.

Macky had stepped out a while ago to grab us some food and handle a few personal errands, leaving me alone in the base.

I was glad nothing major had gone wrong after the Bakuda operation. Once I'd deactivated the bombs, I shadowed the ABB thugs as the people were taken back to their families. I hoped Janna and her friends were doing all right. I hadn't seen them since Taylor delivered their families to the PRT, and honestly, it wasn't my problem anymore.

Still, the operation was a success; we were able to get new capes' families from Bakuda's grasp without her or Lung knowing.

Neither I nor the PRT could be completely certain we'd gotten every single device; after all, there could be other people who had gone through the same process. Now that the bomb-scanning system was more or less functional, I needed to share it with the Protectorate. Armsmaster might already have something similar, or he might not. Either way, offering what I had wouldn't hurt. We were all on the same side, after all.

With that in mind, I reached for the PRT-issued phone, opened the contact list, and dialed the liaison number.

"PRT East-North-East, how may I direct your call?"

"This is Vigil," I said. "I need to speak with Armsmaster. It's important."

There was a brief pause.

"I'm sorry, Vigil. Armsmaster is currently unavailable."

Her tone was polite and professional... but something about it felt off, as if she were reading off a script meant for this exact conversation.

"Then patch me through to any of the Protectorate members," I said. "Or the Director, if she's available."

"I'm afraid all senior personnel are occupied at the moment," she replied smoothly. "I can check whether Deputy Director Renick is free, or if you'd prefer, you can tell me the nature of your request and I'll ensure the message is passed along."

I frowned. This was starting to feel wrong.

"...I have tech that can detect Bakuda's bombs," I said quietly. "Something that might be useful."

There was another short silence on the other end.

"The PRT and Protectorate are already working on solutions regarding that threat," the agent said. "I'll pass your message along. Someone will reach out to you if necessary."

"...Sure."

I ended the call.

A cold wariness seeped into me; something was seriously wrong. I thought back to my last conversation right after the rescue operation and found nothing of note other than the generally tense atmosphere.

Why are they acting like this...?

I stood up and began pacing the length of the HQ, my fingers unconsciously finding the holocron hanging against my chest. Now that I thought about it, Victoria hadn't called me either. That made me frown. I'd been so focused on shoring up the warehouse defenses that I'd let it sit on the back burner, assuming she was just busy with her own responsibilities.

Still... something felt off.

I pulled up her contact and called. It went straight to voicemail.

"Hey... it's Dylan," I said after the beep. "Call me back when you can."

I hung up and stared at the phone for a long moment as I felt my stomach start to sink. I closed my eyes and called out to the Force, immersing myself in its powerful currents. I searched for some insight, some reason for the unease clawing at me... but found nothing of note.

It was times like this that reminded me the Force was an entity of its own. It did not exist to cater to my wishes or whims. Still, I couldn't lose myself; after all, I did have this holocron.

Looking at the time, I knew it would be a while until Taylor would be back from school. We had planned another operation to try and pinpoint Bakuda's location and figure out a way to track her live. "Let's use this time wisely," I thought to myself before sitting cross-legged on the floor, the armor making it more comfortable. I held the little holocron in one hand, detaching it from the chain on my neck, and channeled the Force through it.

The only time I had truly used it before, the holocron had modified the Tree—opening structured paths of learning I hadn't possessed. But I could feel there was more. Something deeper still hidden inside it.

The world around me fell away.

I stood once more on red sand dunes beneath a night sky filled with unfamiliar stars. This time, I was more aware of myself. The air was dry and still. I took a few careful steps when a familiar female voice drifted across the

dunes—the same voice I had heard in Canberra.

"Look closer."

I turned.

A woman stood a short distance away. She wore worn and tattered brown robes, yet somehow still looked dignified. Her features possessed an ethereal, almost otherworldly quality, like an elf. She tilted her head and smiled gently.

"I see you have found us after all."

A second voice, low and sibilant, spoke from my left.

"Indeed."

I snapped my head toward the sound. A tall Muun stood there, wrapped in a dark cloak. His features were sharp and elongated, and his eyes glowed a sickly yellow. My eyes widened in recognition of the species.

The woman turned slightly toward him.

"Perhaps it was time."

The Muun regarded me with surprising patience.

"Who are you both?" I asked, wariness clear in my voice.

The woman smiled. "I am Master Fay of the Jedi Order."

"And I," the Muun said, "am known as Darth Plagueis."

I froze.

A Jedi and a Sith.

"How...?" I struggled to form the question. "This is a holocron... but you're both..."

"The will of the Force," Fay said softly.

"What is this place?" I asked.

Plagueis answered first. "Korriban."

I looked at Fay, silently questioning why a Jedi would be on Korriban.

"This is where I gave myself to the Force," she said, as if sensing my question.

"No," I shook my head. "This is just a holocron. It's all in my mind."

Plagueis's yellow eyes narrowed slightly. "Just because it is in your mind does not mean it is not real."

I paused at that.

"Why are you both here?"

"To guide you," Fay replied. "When I was called upon by the Force to create this holocron, I did not understand why. Now... I begin to see."

"So what now?" I asked.

"You came here, acolyte," Plagueis said simply.

I studied them both for a long moment. "Can you read my mind?"

"No," Fay said.

"No," Plagueis confirmed.

Some of the tension in my shoulders eased, even if I didn't fully believe them. Despite my deep wariness of the Sith—especially one who had been the master of Sidious—I felt an unexpected sense of safety in Fay's presence. Something instinctive told me I was not in danger. Still, I remained cautious.

Fay's expression softened further. "Why are you here, Padawan?"

I set aside the titles for now and tried to explain. I felt strangely vulnerable as the words came out, circling the real issue, never quite landing on it. I spoke of my life, my choices, Canberra, the surveillance system, of Bakuda, of the need for answers... but I could feel myself avoiding the core of my anxiety.

Plagueis watched me with clinical sharpness.

"You know exactly why you are here," he said at last.

I exhaled slowly.

Yes. I did.

The PRT's sudden distance. Their polite stonewalling. Victoria not answering my calls. I had been deliberately ignoring the obvious: they were wary of me—specifically, of how I had used the Force on those ABB thugs. The Master abilities. The ease with which I had rewritten minds and extracted information.

Fay's expression remained unchanged as she advised me. "Power of any nature leaves marks, young one," she said gently. "Not only on those you touch, but on how others perceive you. Fear is a natural response to what they do not understand. And what they do not understand, they often seek to control... or distance themselves from."

Plagueis, though, gave a soft, dismissive sound.

"Sentiment. The truth is simpler, Acolyte. You demonstrated a capability that places you outside their usual frameworks of power. They cannot predict you. They cannot easily counter you. That makes you dangerous in their eyes—whether you intend harm or not. Naivety will not protect you from the consequences of that perception."

He tilted his head slightly.

"The question is not whether they fear you. It is what you intend to do with that knowledge."

I stood there on the red sand, considering both their words.

"What should I do?"

Master Fay's expression softened, giving me a motherly look that dashed my expectation of a

dead, emotionless Jedi. "You were chosen by the Force for a reason, Padawan. Do not let fear of how others perceive you dictate your path. The Jedi once guided entire systems—star systems, not merely a single city on a single world. A planet's politics, no matter how tangled, should not unmake what you are."

Plagueis made a low sound that might have been amusement.

"Listen to her, Acolyte, but do not become soft. Fear is useful when it keeps you sharp. What you must not do is freeze. You have already shown them what you are capable of. Hiding now will only confirm their suspicions. Act with clarity. Control the narrative where you can. And never assume their caution is temporary."

I hesitated, then forced the next question out.

"There's something coming. Something far worse than Bakuda or the gangs. A... Golden Morning. Do you know of it?"

Both of them regarded me in silence for a moment.

"There is nothing impossible with the Force," Fay said quietly.

Plagueis inclined his head the slightest degree. "What will be, will be shaped by those with the will to shape it."

I drew a slow breath. "Can you teach me?"

"Yes," Fay answered.

"But you do not truly need it," Plagueis added, glancing toward something I could not see—perhaps the Tree itself. "The structure already exists within you. We will guide when guidance is required. That is the will of the Force."

I nodded slowly, then looked at Fay curiously.

"You're fine with a Sith teaching me? I've already been using Mechu-deru. That's... not exactly a light side ability."

Fay offered a gentle

smile. "Despite your use of techniques associated with the dark, there is no corruption in you. The Force does not reject you. That is rarer than you understand."

Plagueis's yellow eyes gleamed with an

unreadable expression. "The Force has always had its favorites."

A spark of excitement cut through the tension in my chest, and I felt a profound shift in my life; I had masters now. Something had been on my mind for a long time, a boy's dream.

"Can I... create a lightsaber?" I asked them. Fay's smile deepened slightly.

"There are ways," Fay said. "But not now. You are needed."

I exhaled and forced myself to calm. The vision was already beginning to thin around the edges.

"I understand."

I closed my eyes and pulled myself out of the holocron.

When I opened them again, I was floating several inches above the HQ floor, still seated cross-legged. The moment I noticed, the Force released me, and my boots touched down. Sweat covered my body beneath the armor. My breathing was slightly uneven.

That had been... incredible. I traced the still holocron in my hand as I attached it back to the chain around my neck. A sharp sense of elation still lingered in my chest when my phone rang.

Taylor.

I forced the feeling down and answered,

"Dylan... there's a situation," she said quickly. "Can you pick me up from school?"

I blinked. "Why?"

"There's someone who wants to meet... no. Come with me. You as well."

"What?"

"What?"

"Her name is Dinah Alcott," Taylor said. "Can you pick me up?"

Oh Shit...