Chapter Eight (Patreon)

Skill: Lightsaber (Shii-Cho) Increased.

Skill: Lightsaber (Shii-Cho) Increased.

Ali’ya sighed in relief at the notification. “That’s enough for now,” she told Mace, who grumbled, but deactivated the training blade. At six, Mace Windu was considered a prodigy with a lightsaber. Despite the advantages of the system in increasing her skill and the advantages of her age and species, Ali’ya could barely keep up with the boy. Perhaps it’s the form, Ali’ya though. While she knew that wasn’t the only reason--after all, Mace Windu was eventually skilled enough to defeat the Sith Master in lightsaber combat--but Shii-Cho truly didn’t sit well with her. It was too random, too large in its movements. It left her feeling uncomfortable and exposed. Maybe Master Dooku would be willing to teach me Makashi, Ali’ya thought, then laughed.

“What?” Mace asked, looking up from his stretch.

“Nothing much,” Ali’ya smiled. “Just thinking about asking Master Dooku to teach me Makashi.”

Mace pondered the question for a bit, continuing his stretches. “You should,” he told her from the floor. “Makashi will suit you better than Shii-Cho. But Ataru will be even worse.”

Ali’ya scrunched her nose. “I’m too big for Ataru,” she huffed. “If I want an aggressive form I’ll just use Djem So. Jumping about leaves me exposed.”

“See, my old apprentice?” Ali’ya turned sharply at the voice. She knew that voice, and not from her time in this life. Good god, Ali’ya thought. He really does look like Christopher Lee, down to those unfair cheekbones. “Someone has common sense.”

“You say that as if my use of Ataru has not aided us on our missions,” the young Qui-Gon Jinn huffed.

“It has not, not as much as another form would have.”

“Master--”

“Master Dooku?” Mace cut in, making his most adorable wide-eyes. “My friend wants to ask you something.”

“Oh?” Dooku questioned, and Ali’ya gulped.

“I--would you be willing to teach me Makashi master?” Ali’ya managed.

“How old are you?”

“Nine, Master Dooku.”

“Hmph. Young, but not too young. I suppose you want lessons as well.”

Mace nodded eagerly, nearly bouncing up and down. “Yes Master Dooku.”

“Very well. I suppose I can offer some basic instructions, though you will do exactly as I say. Is that understood?”

“Yes Master.”

*

Dooku, Ali’ya thought as she collapsed onto the floor of the salle, is a fucking monster.

“Again,” the cold voice cut in.

Ali’ya stifled a groan. She opened herself to the Force, drawing on it to ease her sore and crying muscles. She purged the lactic acid that built up in her cells, helping her liver and kidneys turn it into glucose. Steadily, she stood, and picked up her training saber. Slowly, precisely as she could, she went through the Makashi katas.

“Too wide.” Ali’ya did not nod. She’d learned better. Instead she simply tightened the movement as much as her body would allow and moved again. “Elbow in. Foot back. Foot too far inward. Lower. Lower. Bend your knees, straighten your back.” Dooku was relentless. He sought a type of perfection only found in platonic ideals and was utterly unwilling to compromise upon it. Even with her natural agility Ali’ya struggled to meet his standards.

Natural, she realized. The movements aren’t natural, why am I expecting to use them naturally? “Too slow,” Dooku called out. Ali’ya ignored him momentarily. She closed her eyes, widening her connection to the Force. She pulled at it gently, guiding it through her limbs and around her body. She found her legs bending of their own accord, her hands moving more swiftly, her arms no longer stuck out because of her biology.

“Good.” That word alone broke Ali’ya from her concentration. She stumbled, missing a kata. Damn it, she thought. “Ten times with the Force, then try it again without.”

Well, Ali’ya thought, dismissing another notification that popped up in the corner of her vision. At least I’m improving.

*

Quest: Billion Downloads Completed!

Rewards: 1,000 experience points, review of your book on the holonet

Bonus Quest: Publish a Sequel Failed

Quest: Trillion Downloads applied

Rewards: 5,000 experience points, famous author status

Penalties: -500 experience points, no novel you write will exceed a trillion readers

Level: 3

Experience Points: 2,770/3,000

Each level costs 1,000 experience points more than the last. Level 1 is free, so level 2 costs 1,000 experience points.

“What are you doing?”

Ali’ya bit back a sigh. “I’m writing, Kazdan.”

“What are you writing?”

“A book.”

“Can I see?”

Ali’ya winced. “Promise to keep it a secret?”

Kazdan, for all he pretended to be a carefree teen, quickly sobered up. “Of course,” he said. “You kept my droids secret after all.”

“I wrote Sandstorm,” Ali’ya said in a hushed voice.

“You wrote what?”

“Sandstorm,” Ali’ya repeated. “It’s a novel. Has a billion downloads, one credit per download.”

“Wow,” Kazdan blinked is large eyes. “That’s a lot of credits. What are you gonna do with them?”

“I’ve invested most of them,” Ali’ya answered. “If Industrial Automation gets that miniaturization to work, the stock will shoot up. I’ve also got some in Sienar, Sorosuub, Corellian Engineering, and Kuat Drive Yards, as well as some agricultural companies on Chandrila and the Saliche corporation.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to donate the money to charity?”

Ali’ya sighed. “Probably,” she admitted. “But I want to have a safety net in case no one takes me as their padawan. And there are limits to what charities can do. They can alleviate problems, but they can’t solve them. That takes larger intervention, and many of these corporations are governments in all but name. Maybe if I take one over, if I get enough money that I can own a majority of the company, I’ll be able to make them treat people better.” Ali’ya shrugged. “Maybe it’s naive of me, but I’d like to try.”

“Let me know if I can help.”

“Thanks,” Ali’ya smiled. “I will.”

*

Barring extenuating circumstances, driving speeders--let alone piloting ships--was restricted to those over the age of fourteen. And while being a Jedi would be considered extenuating circumstances by many, the crechemasters, trainers, and teachers of the Jedi temple fervently disagreed. Which, put quite plainly, sucked. Driving had been one of Ali’ya’s favorite ways to relax in her old life. While she was no longer the anxious mess of excedrin tablets and Monster Energy drinks that she had been, she was still stressed. There were all the normal stresses of school, added on by the fact that if she wasn’t chosen as a padawan by the age of fourteen she’d be all but kicked out, and the fact that she was one person against the entire galaxy when it came to preventing the disastrous rise of the Empire. Or combating the evils of slavery, an institution in this galaxy that killed far more people than the Death Star ever did. How in the innumerable hells of the multiverse was she supposed to change anything?

Easy, Ali’ya reminded herself, taking a breath before stepping into the pilot simulator. One step at a time. Breathing in, Ali’ya activated the simulation. The strange contraption closed, and the black screens activated, displaying the rolling hills of Dantooine. Ali’ya cruised over them, following the flight path on the screen exactly.

“Entering Second Phase of Simulation,” the machine declared. “Dodge.” Ali’ya felt the Force flicker. It was slight, far from the reaction she would have were the danger real. Yet she heeded the warning small though it was, twisting her fighter out of the blaster’s path. She dodged again, and again, flying low one moment then zooming up, past the nose of the Neo-Crusader’s fighter the simulation still used.

“Entering Third Phase of Simulation,” the machine stated. “Attack.” Despite the childlike urge, Ali’ya did not immediately go on the attack. Instead she continued to dodge, ducking under laser blasts for two minutes. Then, as the canons on the Neo-Crusader fighter charged, she attacked. She twisted, rolling her ship under the Neo-Crusader, grimacing as a stray rock (disturbed from the fighter’s speed) hit her wing. Yet it seemed to cause little damage. She pulled up just as the Neo-Crusader was starting to turn, firing at the ship’s underbelly. She fired four shots before breaking off her attack, darting past it and around. She swooped back, attacking again, dodging through the now-charged cannon’s laser bolts. She fired as well, targeting the prong of the cannon. Her aim left much to be desired, but at least she hit the shields. On her third attack, having sustained only grazing blows, she destroyed the enemy cannon. After that it was only a matter of time, and dodging the simulated Neo-Crusader’s attempt at a kamikaze run.

Quest: Star Fighter Completed!

You have passed the fighter-pilot simulation.

Reward: 200 experience points, ability to take advanced fighter courses

Bonus Quest: Pass the test with only minor or negligible damage

Bonus Reward: 100 experience points, attract the interest of Jedi Aces.

Bonus Quest: Pass the test with no damages Failed.

Level: 3

Experience Points: 3,120/3,000

Congratulations! You have reached Level 4!

Every four levels you receive one Perk Point. Perk Points can be used to purchase Character Perks. Some require more than one point, while others can only be purchased at later levels.

Ali’ya temporarily dismissed the notifications as she climbed out of the simulator. Leveling up could wait, much as she wanted to see what perks she could get.

“Congratulations, Initiate,” Knight Uvor said. “You passed with flying colors.”

Ali’ya couldn’t help but giggle. Knight Uvor did his best to make the tests seem less scary. Bad jokes were the main way, and while most of her friends no longer found them amusing Ali’ya couldn’t help but partake in the simple joy of a bad pun.

“My thanks, Knight Uvor,” Ali’ya replied. “For your teachings, and your humor.”

“It is rare that I am complemented on one of those, let alone both.”

“The small pleasures of life need not be denied, only those that are harmful to others.”

“Many would claim Knight Uvor’s japes are quite harmful,” another voice cut in.

“Knight Tiin,” Knight Uvor greeted the Iktochi. “Come to see the initiate’s scores?”

“I was with Master Shapa and offered to pick up the results,” Knight Tiin said. “You are finished, correct?”

“Yes, Initiate Ali’ya here was just finishing.”

“Oh?” Knight Tiin asked. “An unusually long session then.”

“Was it?” Ali’ya couldn’t help but ask.

“For most, no. Yourself and young Kirana took the longest, though Padawan Paratus still holds the record.”

“Don’t remind me,” Tiin groaned. “He took the machine apart, then put it back differently. It took us four days to reassemble it correctly. The simulator has faulty signals for a reason.”

“Isn’t fixing your ship a valid way to solve such an issue?” Ali’ya couldn’t help but ask.

“Yes,” Knight Uvor said, cutting off Knight Tiin’s glowering. “But that is not the purpose of this test. The purpose is to see how you perform when given substandard equipment and no time to correct it, as well as general piloting skills. Do you understand?”

“I think so, Knight Uvor,” Ali’ya responded. “Sometimes Jedi can’t fix their equipment, or don’t have time to. Padawan Paratus would have passed a different test, but failed this one.”

“Precisely,” Knight Uvor smiled. “Now off you go, Knight Tiin and I have work to do.”