Chapter Twenty-Four (Patreon)

It took three more months for the war to wrap up. Ali’ya was not completely exempt from her duties during that time. After a few weeks working on clearing rubble she was shifted towards the diplomatic side of the rebuilding efforts. She wasn’t entirely certain as to why until one of the Khan’s aides (a delightfully dry-witted woman named Rijeru) explained.

“You are the Egg-Savior,” Rijeru said. “Your teacher seeks glory for neither of you, but it is Known that you were the one who Saw the travesties. That you are the one who saved the eggs from the Huk. You are, with the Sheelal, the Hero of Khedive. Without either of you the city would have fallen and Sheelal is off with the other warriors. You also,” Rijeru continued, her tone taking a wry bent, “speak fluent Basic. We are conversational, but technical terms matter. And the idea of the shipyards is yours.”

Ali’ya elected to start negotiations with the Sluissi first. While their shipyards were rivaled by none, they were also known for perfectionism and taking years to build what others could in months. Sir Largo Vaan was able to connect her to an advisor to the Minister of Commerce for Sluiss Van.

“Where did you say siss was?” the Minster asked.

“Kalee,” Ali’ya repeated. “It’s in Wild Space, just past the Relgim Run.”

“Near Muunilinst?”

“Two days travel, in a typical freighter,” Ali’ya stated. “The hyper-routes as well-known to the locals, though they aren’t currently on the galactic maps. We are, of course, willing to share the directions as part of the agreement.”

“That is as far away from us as you can get and still be part of the galaxy,” the Minister noted. “Why are the Kaleesh reaching out to us. And why are they using you, a Jedi padawan?”

“The Kaleesh are seeking your advice because you are among the best. Your shipyards and ships alike are a work of art.”

“Flattery will not get you everywhere,” the Minister warned.

“I offer more than just flattery,” Ali’ya countered. “Credits as well.”

“How much?”

“Fifty million for the initial surveying,” Ali’ya offered. “A further four-hundred fifty million for completion of the design, if they are willing to work in conjunction with the Mon Cala and the Quarren.”

“That will not be an issue,” the Minister brushed aside. “A half-billion credits, before breaking ground, as it were? Tell me Jedi, why are you so desperate?”

“What does it matter?” Ali’ya asked. “I am paying you, more than enough.”

“What enemies have the Kaleesh made?”

“None that are able to attack them,” Ali’ya replied. “Not for decades at the earliest.”

The Minister hummed. “Sir Vaan assures me you are good for the money. So long as the Mon Cala and Quarren are willing to work with us I see no reason the Khedive and the Congregate should object.”

With a deal struck (pending formal review and approval) with the Sluissi, Ali’ya turned next to the Mon Cala and Quarren. She quickly discovered that, while the Mon Cala maintained the space stations, it was the Quarren who managed to mine Dac’s resources without polluting the planet. Unfortunately, the Quarren also tended to be more reluctant to leave their home planet, especially for somewhere as far away as Kaleesh. Even offering salaries of a million credits per year only got a couple hundred miners and supervisors who were willing to teach the Kaleesh how to sustainably extract ore. The Mon Cala government was also far less willing to help the distant planet of Kalee. The King was new to the throne and had yet to cement his authority, meaning much of the real power rested in the wealthy shipyard and mine owners. Those same powers also happened to represent the planet in the Galactic Senate, where the Huk’s former allies in the Trade Federation were most unhappy.

In light of this, Ali’ya decided to recruit personally. She hired a Quarren design team, knowing that a posting in the Quarren’s native language was far more likely to attract interest than one written in her own. The well-paid team was able to summarize Ali’ya sparse knowledge about the planet and translate it into technical terms. Ali’ya did not, however, need to coordinate the new Quarren arrivals. That job--praise the Force--instead fell on the shoulders of the newly-named Minister of Industry, a sort of secretarial post aimed at assisting the Khans with urban and off-world affairs. At least her headache was over, even if it meant she’d failed her first quest, losing a thousand experience points when she failed to secure royal backing from Dac. The points from the hired Sluissi and Quarren workers more than made up for it, but the failure felt ill in her mouth. Great, Ali’ya thought. Another thing to meditate about.

Ali’ya also spent a significant amount of time with the Mandalorians who had been left behind. As their ultimate employer, it fell to Ali’ya to ensure they had food, water, shelter, and basic medical care. As a child--not even of age to undertake the verd’gotten--it was often them who ended up looking after her, regardless of Ali’ya’s protests. More than one had offered to adopt her and it was all Ali’ya could do to reject them politely. It was grating, but at least they were helping the Kaleesh, and more than willing to teach her some of their language.

Ali’ya knew when the war was over not from the holocall, nor from the Force. It was the System that let her know, a simple banner declaring that she had completed her first mission. She could review that later. For now, Ali’ya simply let the stress slip off her, returning to the Force as all things did in time.

*

The ship was swarmed from the moment they set down. Thousands of Kaleesh and hundreds of Mandalorians poured forth, seeking to assure themselves of their loved ones’ safety.

“Master!”

Sora Bulq, Weapons Master of the Jedi Order, laughed as he caught his padawan. “I am well, young one,” he said.

“I’m glad,” Ali’ya sighed in relief. Sora frowned as he felt her presence in the Force. She was doing better, but it was clear she was working herself too hard.

“Egg-Savior.”

Ali’ya pulled out of his embrace, turning to the ruthless (and admittedly brilliant) warlord who now stood beside them. Tall even by the standards of the Kaleesh, Ali’ya was perhaps the only person who Qymaen jai Sheelal did not tower over.

“Hero of Khedive,” Ali’ya replied.

“That is a title we share, young one,” Qymaen joked. He was ruthless and fiercely protective of his people, but he was still a person. It was relieving to see the Kaleesh joking after the campaign, yet disconcerting all the same.

“Baatar, then?” Ali’ya asked.

“Khan,” Qymaen corrected, and Sora held back a wince. He knew why the man was picked to lead the Capital Clan. Despite his nomadic past he had defended them, led them into battle on the ground and in space, and preserved the world’s largest city. But he was ruthless. Too ruthless.

“Congratulations,” Ali’ya offered. “The campaign went well?”

“It is finished,” Qymaen said before Sora could open his mouth. “I still feel we leave them with too much. But it is done. Our focus once more turns to our own planet.”

“I recognize that I have perhaps intervened too much into your internal affairs--”

“Little tall one,” Qymaen interrupted. “Ali’ya. You are the Egg-Savior. You are one of us, in ways that words cannot fully explain.”

Ali’ya gulped. “I--thank you, Khan Sheelal.”

“Qymaen.”

“Ali’ya then.” His padawan shook herself slightly. “In the interests of our people, I would recommend making friends with the Intergalactic Banking Clan. They are located along the nearest Hyperlanes, and possess the influence needed to curtail Senate actions should the Trade Federation seek vengeance for their loss of suppliers. They are rich in ores, gems, and wealth but poor in fertile lands and food.”

“We have many herds,” Qymaen said. “Yes, perhaps it is a way forward. Your advice will be considered, Ali’ya.”

“That is all I can ask.”

The newly-made Khan nodded, shifting past them to greet the people of the capital.

“Master?”

Sora turned to his apprentice. “My apologies, padawan. It has been a long campaign. Some time in the Temple would do us both good.”

“On that we can agree,” his padawan said, eyes looking far away. “I--it is against Jedi Law for mind healers to report what is said in sessions, is it not?”

“Unless it regards an immanent threat,” Sora agreed, consulting the Force as he answered. He got little from it other than time, wait, heal.

“I would like--well, that’s not true. It would be good for me to see a mind healer when we return.”

Sora stared at his padawan. His young, brave padawan. “I am proud of you,” he managed. “Very proud of you.” He sighed, looking up at his swift-growing padawan. “I think I might request one as well. This . . .”

“I know,” his padawan said, her voice soft, crumbling beneath the weight of the words. “I know.”

Quest: First Mission Completed!

Complete your first mission

Reward: 3,000 experience points

Quest: Grievous Wrongs Completed!

Prevent the Huk War from happening

Reward: 500 experience points, General Grievous does not emerge

Bonus Quest: Defeat the Huk

Reward: 3,000 experience points, Kalee emerges onto the galactic stage

Bonus Quest: Befriend or ally with Qymaen jai Sheelal

Reward: 1,000 experience points

Quest: Master Before Your Time (Force) Completed!

Increase one of your Force skills to Master: 1 before being knighted (Force [Trance]: Master 60)

Reward: 1,000 experience points

Bonus Quest: Increase one of your Force skills to Master: 1 before becoming a Senior Padawan

Reward: 1,000 experience points

Bonus Quest: Increase one of your Force skills to Master: 50 before becoming a Senior Padawan

Reward: 1,000 experience points