The Force Wills - Chapter 154 (Patreon)

“Why is Master Vos fighting thin air?”

I gave Asajj a questioning look then turned to gaze at Mother Talsin. All three of us were in a small observation room, literally molded out of the stone of one of the towers within the hollow mountain-fortress on Dathomir. The air was thick with the acrid tang of ichor, low green light coming from torches with naked green flames. Even though I was in one of the early model proxies, my burgeoning presence through the Force had reached a point that it conveyed most everything to my senses.

Below us, a huge part of the floor had been changed by Talsin to let light through, allowing us to clearly see Quinlan Vos fighting an imaginary opponent. The kiffar Jedi Master had an exceptionally aggressive style that seemed to blend Shii-Cho and Djem So. It surprised me somewhat that he hadn’t been corrected on it, but he had a maverick reputation that was almost on par with Qui-Gon Jinn.

His long black hair styled in dreadlocks, flowed around his face, with the distinctive yellow tattoo stretching over the bridge of his nose and left arm. He was tall with great reach and I knew I didn’t want to find myself standing opposite his green lightsaber in a duel.

Talsin laughed in that eerie multitonal voice that never failed to give me the creeps. “He’s currently fighting a simulation of Savage, after his training with Dooku. I thought it might enlighten him somewhat.”

I nodded, “Conveniently foreshadowing of what he could expect if he persists on the mission.”

“You’ve also put me in an interesting conundrum, young Tano,” she interlaced her fingers and her elaborate red robes shivered in the constant unseen wind that radiated out from her. “This Jedi is responsible for the death of my predecessor, Mother Zalem.”

I blinked in astonishment, “I’m sorry, what?”

“Some 28 years ago, Zalem meddled with an ancient legacy she discovered buried deep within the Gezaq mountains on Dathomir. She found what the galaxy calls an Infinity Gate.”

Talsin had found the perfect words to utterly flabberghast me and prove once again that I was not perfect in my prescience nor my recovered pre-memories. Infinity Gates were the legacy of the Kwa, a precursor saurian civilization that predated the Rakata who would go on to form the Infinite Empire. It was through the Kwa that the first seeds of civilization were sown on many worlds. The Rakata, desiring control of the Infinity Gates, which was the one technology not shared by the Kwa, would go to war for them. It was a war that saw the entire gate network destroyed and led the Kwa into diminishing forever. Infinity Gates were essentially more versatile and larger stargates that somehow used the Force in their operation.

I got my mental feet under me, “All right, please tell me there is something left of the gate or its controlling star chamber.”

Talsin laughed at my reaction, “Unfortunately, young Tano, there is nothing. Zalem made the foolish mistake of trying to use it as a weapon. She test fired it on the planet Ova, with success before trying to turn it towards Coruscant. In the time it took her to decode the Kwa programming to properly orientate the gate, Master Vos arrived on Dathomir to stop her. I was not a witness to the battle, but he had enlisted rival clans for aid. In the end he was successful in stopping her and chose to destroy the gate because of the danger it represented.”

Annoyingly, I couldn’t really fault Vos for that decision. He could’ve at least made a bloody scan of the gate beforehand though. My mind couldn’t help but imagine a reverse engineered Republic infinity gate network, that connected every inhabited world both in orbit and on the ground.

“So there would be nightsisters among you who expect retribution, yet Vos is also the reason why you’re the current Mother, who in turn unified the clans.”

“Precisely. Which is why you need to give me good reason not to simply kill him.”

“The Jedi Council will know he’s here. He will at least have a Bond on him. If he dies, they know immediately and you’ve made an enemy of the current Council. Palpatine will also learn of this very quickly and swoop on the chance. A Republic Fleet will be in orbit within two to three weeks. You’ll defeat the first wave of clones with your abilities, illusions and the army of the dead, but that’s all the excuse Palpatine will need to sanction an orbital bombardment of Dathomir that will glass the surface of the planet.”

Talsin was silent for a few moments, staring down at Vos dispassionately, “Very well. Remain alive he shall. What do you foresee with regards to his mission? Should Asajj assist?”

I sighed with frustration and rubbed my face, “The whole thing is a mess. Vos on his current path will fall to the dark side and join with Dooku. He will for a time, command elements of the CIS Navy alongside Savage. However, the attempt to kill Dooku will fail and Savage kills him for it.”

“Does it help Savage forward in his own mission?”

Hardly need prescience to answer this one, “No, the enemy is breaking the Line of Bane. He intends that no one become strong enough to replace him. Dooku is old, a rich, charismatic tool that will not survive the endgame of this war. At one point, Savage should be contacted by him directly and the seeds will be sown for his ascension to the enemy’s side as a new apprentice.”

Talsin nodded, “Meaning Vos’ efforts and sacrifice, ultimately pointless. Yet the enemy knows of his mission. He will expect us to exact some form of vengeance. Just letting Vos go will be contrary to what he knows of us. He will expect it to be a larger plan on my part. It may pique his interest to investigate in a manner we can not afford.”

“Then you must engineer a way to let Master Vos escape believably. Is his ship still intact?”

“The fighter has been moved here and its hyperdrive ring is still in orbit.”

“Then it can work.”

“It will be done. Goodbye, young Tano.” Talsin looked pointedly at Asajj before floating out of the room.

“Asajj,” I prompted her as below us, Vos stopped fighting and looked bewildered before slumping into an unconscious heap. I hadn’t missed the subtle looks she had given the man.

“What do you want now, Tano?” she asked with an annoyed scowl.

I folded my arms and gave her an x-ray stare, “Be careful.”

She groaned and facepalmed briefly, then gave me a bloodcurdling glare, but I sensed her heart wasn’t in it. “Why am I not surprised, Tano. Can’t keep your future nose out of a woman’s personal life?”

“I don’t care one whit about what two consenting adults, who are attracted to each other get up to, Asajj. I care when the relationship has the potential to turn into a tragedy, which will hurt a prominent fellow Jedi and you - who I consider a friend. Again, I’ll only say be careful Asajj and if you will both be happy, then I’m happy.”

She scoffed initially but her expression soon mellowed, “It’s a stupid notion, anyway. We didn’t really have a long conversation before I knocked him out, even though we both sensed each other’s interest. Let me guess, there’s a future where I tell you…”

I nodded and couldn’t help the giggles that burst out, “That he happened upon you whilst you were bathing in the Genar falls? Oh yes.” It was like something straight out of a romantic fantasy and I could only grin in delighted amusement as her eyes spat blaster bolts at me. She grumbled curses and insults in dathomirian at me. “Now don’t make things too easy for him and don’t forget to leave him your com code.”

I gave her a cheeky wave before disconnecting.

My eyes blinked away the disjunction and I took a minute to regain my bearings. My true body was in the partitioned section of the Omen, its hyperdrive humming in a steady rhythm as we plunged along the Corellian Run hyperlane.

I leaned over towards the interface chair controls, selected the next target and initiated a ten second connection countdown.

Leaning back, I got comfortable…

3…2…1…

The feeling of disjunction was getting better, less jarring and I blinked my eyes to find myself in a fairly large droid workshop.

A quick check of prescience revealed that no, I wasn’t getting through the Shroud this way.

I ran through a checklist of the HK-HP I was connected to and finding everything satisfactory, activated a holosheathe of my normal appearance.

“Statement: HK-47 is ready to serve, master.”

The bloody droid had positioned himself right in my blindspot behind me. He hadn’t surprised me at all, but it was still unnerving as hell.

“HK, should I ask how long you have been waiting there for me to connect?”

“Answer: No master. That would be a waste of time, of course.”

I sat up from the diagnostic chair the HK-HP had been hooked into, pulling out the various cables and standing, testing the range of motion and flexibility it afforded. It had been built here on Coruscant within the bowels of the Corusca Online Headquarters, so I couldn’t be too sure about quality, but everything checked out physically at least.

I pinged a very specific comlink.

It picked up a few moments later, “Ahsoka? Are you here?” asked Hermione.

“Yes, in the main droid works,” I answered my business partner.

“On my way.”

“Query: Master, what must I do to convince you to forgo your meatbag form? Observation: I must say it looks very fetching on you. Conjecture: Think Master of how more efficiently we can dispose of meatbag irritants together this way!”

I rolled my eyes in annoyance, “Find a way that I retain my strength in the Force and I may consider it after I’ve had a few children and another eighty odd years of life behind me.”

“Conjecture: Master, the chances that you would survive that long as a Jedi in this galaxy are slim indeed. Theory: Perhaps if I research the Oraxian Shards, I could find a way to imbue Force sensitivity into myself and a superior HK chassis for you, master, when your inferior fleshy meatbag form deteriorates and goes all wrinkly.”

“As long as you don’t kill them, go ahead.” It’ll be another project to keep him occupied at least. “Now tell me of your infiltration.”

“Evaluation: It was a most satisfactory challenge, Master. One which my superior skills and chassis managed to overcome. Recitation: As the meatbag Maul indicated, the location was quite large, with extensive facilities for small scale localized manufacture of almost anything. There were also extensive medical facilities that I believe was used by the meatbag Hego Damask in his research, most of which has been deactivated.”

“Most?”

“Clarification: There are a number of gene editing devices and cloning cylinders still in active use, including a mind blank clone of our enemy.”

“Makes sense, he’s hedging his bets. If something manages to kill him, he doesn’t want a clone thousands of light years away on Wayland to be his only shot at resurrection. What else?”

“Answer: A modified form of what I recognize as a Shrine or Ceremonial Chamber. It is capable of any Alchemy that the enemy may wish to perform. Continuation: Of most interest is that the primary purpose of this location now is actually storage for a large number of artifacts.”

That perked my interest, “Did you recognize any?”

“Answer: Most definitely, master. Recitation: Most prominent is what is known as the Great Crystal of Aantonaii. Explanation: Darth Revan used it as a focus for ritual and a power amplifier. Even in his time, the Crystal was old and my creator theorized its origin dated back to the original split of the Je’daii.”

“Did it show any indication of active use?”

“Answer: Negative, master. However, it has definitely been used in the last twenty years at some point, judging from residues on it. Continuation: There are seven holocrons, one of which I can confirm is the holocron of Revan.”

“Of course it is,” I sighed, Palpatine wouldn’t let that one remain in the wild.

“Recitation: There is an extensive library collection of scrolls and texts, carefully preserved in stasis units, detailed writings on lore, alchemy and rituals. A few dozen synthetic and natural kyber crystals, all of which have been corrupted with the dark side. Incense burners in the Malachor art style and number of spirit urns which are capable of containing or channeling essence.”

“Any way you could tell if there was an actual essence inside them?”

“Answer: Negative, master.”

That was the problem with sending a droid in this case. “Anything else of note?”

“Answer: In terms of artifacts, that is all, master. Disclosure: I was also able to scan a secret tunnel that links this location all the way to 500 Republica. A dedicated speeder inside would be capable of traversing the distance within 12 minutes at maximum speed.”

“Flying above the surface would be too risky. Too many scanners and after all, why would our dear chancellor be going to an abandoned industrial district,” I mocked sarcastically. “What about the computer systems?”

“Answer: Fully subverted, master. It still reports to the chancellor’s private office, but we can siphon data undetected at our leisure. Query: What are my search priorities?”

“Wayland’s location and any other facilities, such as the current Inquisitorius training base.”

“Assurance: I will find these locations with utmost priority, master. Commentary: It will be most gratifying to terminate the Force sensitive meatbags who are part of this organization.”

“Meatbag this, meatbag that, can’t come up with something original, HK?”

His interlocutor walked into the workshop and I raised an impressed brow at Hermione Bagwa. I had kept in touch with her through the Fulcrum network, but we could never really risk an in person meeting these days. Gone was the perpetually exhausted blonde haired waitress and in her place was a confident executive and CEO of a major company that had exploded in value and was the de facto monopoly for ‘social media’ in the galaxy.

She wore an elegant white tunic, formal jacket, slacks and high heels that tucked and accentuated in all the right places to show off her impressive figure. A single ring on her hand and numerous other auridium jewelry pieces in her hair, ears and around her neck showed off wealth but wasn’t gaudy about it. I sensed her radiant vitality and health, the product of many visits to spa districts, exercise and general training.

“Ahsoka!” she gushed and almost glomped me into a hug, which I just about warded her off from doing.

“Easy, Herm, not flesh under this exterior, remember,” I pulled her into a more delicate hug.

“Ah of course, silly me. Grief, if this is what you look like now, just yesterday it feels like you were barely up to my elbow.”

I shrugged, “Time and the strange galaxy we live in, eh?”

She laughed melodiously holding me out at arms length with a bright smile before taking a step back. “So the metallic stick in the butt briefed you?”

“He did, though I’ll want to go on a virtual simulation to see for myself.”

“That can be arranged easily, now what about you don a disguise and you can take a tour of HQ?”

“In a moment, I just want your personal opinion on the fallout of the bombing and Yoda’s speech.”

“As you Jedi say, it was a ‘disturbance in the Force’,” she said with a huge grin. “Still breaking its own records and we’re seeing a massive jump in CSO downloads. The galaxy has been slowly adopting us, everyone has woken up to the fact that information and news need not be in the hands of a few. Everyone with a decently capable datapad with a visual sensor, can bring their talent or story to the Holonet now. If they’re good, they get the most credits and are encouraged to do it more. Seriously, Ahsoka… I had my doubts at first, but it’s mindboggling how much undiscovered talent has just been moldering away on every major planet in the Core and Mid-Rim.”

I nodded, remembering how game changing it was in my last life, just within a single world. Multiply that by hundreds of thousands and you just scratched the surface of the potential in the Corusca galaxy.

“That is why I want HK-47 here with you for the next few months, whilst we considerably upgrade security. To the point where I want this building capable of holding off an entire clone legion long enough for all of you to evacuate. CSO was built from the ground up to be decentralized, but I consider every employee we have to be more valuable.”

She pursed her lips with a frown, “You expect attention from him on the company.”

“Yes, we seriously dealt a major blow to his carefully constructed narrative regarding the Jedi. We reminded the galaxy that the Republic was built on the shoulders of the old Jedi, who kept the flames of civilization burning in the aftermath of the ancient wars against the Sith Brotherhood.”

I hardly needed to even touch the scales of CSO, the subject of the Jedi Order and its history had also naturally gone viral in the wake of ‘Yoda’s Speech’, especially because there were padawans with CSO accounts who had direct access to the Archives. You didn’t need to go through the trouble to visit the Archives by appointment anymore, a right which the public had, but was only really done by academics.

“We were fairly fortified already, but that was mostly in terms of general corporate security and intelligence, but more can’t hurt at this point.”

My holosheathe shimmered and now I was a tall human woman in her mid-thirties, wearing the latest flowing Alderani fashion; a white long dress, flowing thin outer-robe with long red hair and a painfully ordinary face. This identity was Idia Rimbalam, the newest investor in CSO from a minor house of Alderaan, a backstory that had been slowly created over the last year by Hermione with careful research, prep work and a few bribes, for my use to walk openly in the halls of CSO HQ.

“Shall we go, Mrs Rimbalam, and see the company your hard earned credits is helping to finance?” she smiled, gesturing grandly at the door.

“Why thank you, Mrs. Bagwa.”

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We had four days of travel time to Corellia.

Taria didn’t waste a second of it, teaching me further in the ways of the Jedi Shadow and only letting me take breaks to eat and sleep for four hours.

By the end of the first day, I demonstrated an adequate performance with the Curved Mirror. Maintaining it despite being randomly shocked by her lightsaber. The final test she conducted was to shut down all lighting in the Omen’s troop compartment, leaving us in complete darkness. At that point I had to maintain the Mirror and avoid her for at least an hour. She would search for me with the Force and her hearing only, moving in a search pattern in the darkness.

“Well done, my student,” she declared eventually. The lights came on abruptly and I used internal Control to rapidly contract my own irises to avoid the pain and flash blindness. “Have a seat.”

We sat across from one another on the deck and regarded me with thoughtful scrutiny. “Make sure to keep practicing the Mirror, it is the foundation and without it properly built, your progress into the final phase will be stunted. Now we begin with a related technique to Invisibility. It is one thing to be unseen, but that only works in conventional line of sight. We Jedi are not so limited, obviously. With effort and familiarity, we can sense each other across vast distances. The same applies to our enemy, who has generally always kept the upper hand in remaining stealthy at long range sensing. The Jedi mindset and code does not really lend itself towards developing these techniques.”

“We’re the good guys and good guys don’t hide,” I said with mock pomposity.

Taria’s lips quirked, “Amusingly put, my student, but yes. Now I’m going to teach you the Sashen’kyr, or Veil of Another Soul. Its purpose is to completely disguise one’s presence in the Force by temporarily adopting the signature of another being, be they living or dead. Any Jedi, Sith or Force Sensitive who senses you whilst you hold the Sashen’kyr will read you as someone else entirely; your emotional texture, the flavor of the Living Force inside you and even subtle alignments in the Force, will be entirely different.”

My mind floundered as I tried to work out the mechanics behind how something like that would even be done. There was one conclusion I came to within moments.

“This is as dangerous as a Kessel Run, isn’t it?”

She looked at me with grim eyes, “Correct, my student. However, the Kessel Run merely leads to your death in any number of navigational hazards. If Sashen’kyr goes wrong, you will wish for death; extreme dissociative disorders are the least of the problems you will face. You could begin to retain traces of the borrowed signature permanently, which is in effect, a slow erasure of your own personality. The Council of First Knowledge considers this technique just a step removed from the worst excesses of the ancient Sith. Yet, we retain this knowledge because it is necessary for a Shadow to move in secret from the long range sensing of both Jedi and Sith. This is also another great filter that weeds out potential recruits to our branch of the Order.”

She reached into her robes and pulled out a rectangular box covered with nerf leather that was withered with age.

I could immediately sense a powerful and old kyber crystal inside.

She put it down in between us and lifted the lid.

Inside was an old saberstaff, an elegant long cylinder made of durasteel, inlaid with breathtakingly carved ancient wood and alongside it a single small kyber crystal, no bigger than my thumb. It barely registered as alive, with only the smallest traces of power - it was in human terms, an infant.

“Pick up the young crystal,” she instructed.

I carefully reached out and using just my thumb and forefinger, lifted the crystal.

The mote of power lurched towards me and immediately grew stronger, just by my proximity, leeching from my ambient resonance in the Force.

“Your first task is to create a keystone, inside this kyber crystal you will imbue a single memory that best represents you, Ahsoka.”

I adjusted the crystal into the middle of my palm, covering it with both hands and reached inward with the eyes of memory.

The question now was, what best represented me. What memory in my past, in both lifetimes, could act as a lighthouse that would always bring me back home, no matter how far away I was on the vast ocean of the Sashen’kyr.

Using my last life was a mistake waiting to happen. It needed to be in this life.

Perhaps from childhood?

The innocent wanderings of my early youth among the back country woods of Shili, fumblingly reaching out with the Force to the wildlife, taming kybucks and riding them, much to the astonishment of Nak-il and Pav-ti Tano, my parents.

My first ritual hunt with my mother, killing a kybuck to teach me about life and death. A wasted lesson really. Then came the raxshir, ambushing us and managing to tear me away from Pav-ti’s vigilance. Taming that predator, which would make a sabertooth tiger think twice about a confrontation, was my first true experience of the dark side.

Or perhaps, the memory of appreciating a beautiful sunrise from the rooftops of the village?

No.

Rising into space the first time, alongside Master Plo Koon, my face and hands smushed against the transparisteel, seeing the jewel of Shili hanging in the black void, getting smaller. Then my first experience of hyperspace…

My first evening after arriving at the Jedi Temple; standing among the beauty of the Room of a Thousand Fountains.

Getting closer.

The joy of actually mastering my first technique in the Force.

Closer.

Rising into the stars again aboard the Crucible for my Gathering Ritual.

Finding my twinned kyber crystals, the completion of my spirit in a way that transcended words to describe…

I pushed.

My palms opened and the kyber crystal shone now with pure white radiance.

“Well done, Ahsoka. I will leave it to you to fashion an appropriate way of keeping that with you at all times. However, avoid a necklace, too easy to lose and may be ripped off you in battle conditions.”

I pocketed my new keystone in the tan overall I was wearing. “A ring has the same problem and would be too visible. Don’t have ears and lekku piercings went out of fashion a century ago.” I winced as the solution occurred to me. A belly piercing on the other hand would be a pain, but better that than risking permanent dissociative disorder.

“Let us move on,” she chided me mildly. “The first thing you will need is the Anchor Print from the person you are imitating. Ideally this will be from a living person that you can touch without raising suspicion; a handshake, a pat on the shoulder, or even a battlefield contact. Alternatively, you can use an object that is personally significant to your target. This could be a lightsaber hilt, blood, hair or other shed body materials.”

“Which is where this old saberstaff comes in?”

“It is a weapon that belonged to a Shadow that lived five centuries ago. Yes, Ahsoka,” she said, sensing my shocking realization, “you can also perform Sashen’kyr from the dead. It is easier since there is no natural resistance in the Force in adopting the signature, but the risk is there that you will experience echoes of significant emotional moments, including their death, which will bring that trauma upon you. Yet it is the safest way to train. You may pick it up now.”

The fear and hesitation snuck up on me like an akul in the high grasses.

I let it gain no purchase, only I remained.

My hand closed on the hilt and lifted.

It was heavier than I was used to and the feeling of the internal circuitry and construction pushed itself into my mind. The kyber crystal inside hadn’t yet reached the threshold where it could actually be equivalent to the Darksaber; where it had a sapience and had power to overtly influence those who dared wield it, but it was very close. I could feel the well of memories inside the proto-being. It was also of a type that required the user to use a small bit of telekinesis to engage the weapon.

I needed a mere thought to engage both sides of the staff, which came alive with the classic snap-hiss and bathed the troop deck in green light.

“He didn’t use the blade much,” I said out of sheer instinct.

“A Shadow rarely does. If we have to ignite our blade, it’s usually a sign that we have failed in some way. There are some Shadows in the past who have forsaken the use of their lightsabers entirely. Now I want you to feel for the Force signature of the owner, but don’t do anything with it.”

I nodded and for the next few minutes floundered somewhat, running headfirst into the technical distraction from my Mechu-Deru. The old Shadow had an interesting design for his weapon, one which I’m surprised made it past Professor Huyang. The cycling field energizers had an option to actually adjust the frequency of light being emitted, changing it out of the traditional visual spectrum entirely. It wasn’t an invisible blade, you’d still see ambient light being distorted around and through the blade, but it meant that you could eliminate the radiant green light entirely - there would be no using this weapon as a flashlight with this option.

It led me to focus deeper, thinking about who would build their saberstaff like this…

There!

It was like… a long reel of film, each a snapshot of memory, unfolding in such an infinite complexity of interactions.

It threatened to swallow me whole, but I took a firm step back.

I met Taria’s eyes, “Got it.”

“Deactivate the weapon and put it back.” The blades hissed back into the staff and I gently placed it back into the box. “That was the easy part. Now you must learn the Hollowing. Now you must enter the deepest possible empty mind-state during meditation. Do so now.”

I obeyed, pushing into my standard meditation trance within moments.

I felt the internal world of my spirit, the endless misty black and white expanse of stone, surrounding me. Even that was just a crutch of visualization my mind used, to anchor itself to reality and sanity.

“Now, you must suppress and push down on your own power, making it as small as possible.”

Taria’s voice boomed and echoed throughout my inner world.

That was coincidentally one of the methods I used during one of the healing techniques I had pioneered, allowing me to work on an extremely small scale. I carefully began doing that.

“More Ahsoka.”

More?

That… that was crazy. That was nuts. To do more, I would be pushing on myself.

The fear came roaring back, even to the point where my heart began racing…

“Stop. You can’t continue with fear beating down on your psyche. Let go, Ahsoka, remember, your keystone will be there.”

I took an imaginary fortifying breath, feeling the keystone, touching a mental hand to it, like a swimmer holding onto the edge of a pool before beginning the race…

I pushed my power as small as it would go and then… pushed on Ahsoka.

My perceptions dimmed and the edges of oblivion creeped in…

PAIN!

It exploded into me and everything came rushing back.

My eyes surged open and I realized I was gasping, struggling for breath. It felt like someone had just beaten me black and blue. There was ozone in the air around me and then I saw Taria with her hand and fingers outstretched to me.

“Did you just use Force Lightning on me?” I growled in sudden anger, my control and serenity just gone…

“Yes, you were going too far and your heart was about to stop. Grabbing you to shake you out of such a deep trance is pointless. The only way to snap you out of it is with Force Lightning, which can reach deep enough and provides a shock towards natural equilibrium. Now, regain yourself and settle back into serenity.”

Frakking hell.

It took what felt like forever to reach equilibrium and to make matters worse, my darkness had popped up again.

I fell into a deep trance… touched the keystone… went deeper… pushed on my power and Ahsoka…

PAIN!

“Ah! Frakking SHABLA!”

Now I was on my back and staring up blearily into the ceiling of the troop deck, wisps of sweat steam streaming upward and the charring of some parts of my overall.

“As difficult as it is, you need to at least reach a point where there is enough space for the imprint to flow into, without dying.”

I warred away the disbelief that the darkness was trying to sow into my mind.

“How easy is it for you to do this?” I said with a groan.

She gave me a mild smile, tilting her head and just like that…

I didn’t feel Taria anymore.

To every esoteric Force sense I had, she was just gone and another woman was sitting in front of me.

She reached into a pocket of her robes, producing a cigarra that she shoved into her mouth. A flick of her fingers produced an arc of electricity to light it.

A deep drag followed, then Taria spoke with a Corellian accent, “As easy as this, Ahsoka. The name is Annen Zitash. Green Jedi.” She released a huge plume of purple smoke from her mouth and nose. Every movement and micro expression was different from the Taria I had come to know thus far. All she had to do was adopt an actual physical disguise, change her robes and I would be completely fooled that I was now sharing the Omen with somebody else. Her eyes and expression surveyed me casually, striking me with the notion that she was not impressed.

“This is what near mastery looks like,” she drawled. “If one day, you are being actively pursued by a Force Sensitive, you must be able to break the sightline they have on you and use the Sashen’kyr, followed either by a physical disguise change or even full Invisibility.”

Her eyes closed and just like that, Taria was back.

She coughed, pulling a disgusted face whilst smothering the cigarra on the deck plating. “Disgusting habit, never could get Annen to quit it.”

My curiosity couldn’t be helped, “Is she a friend of yours?”

“Yes, retired now, but she gave me permission to use her as one of my imprints, therefore I keep a few cigarra on me at all times. That is another lesson to keep in mind when adopting disguises, each one of them should have a physical representation on you that will go the extra distance in making them convincing and memorable.”

I frowned, “Wouldn’t the proper goal be for a disguise to be unmemorable?”

“You can certainly have a few that are like that, but you must also have some that will have features that stick in the mind. As a way to misdirect pursuit or investigation after the fact. Now, we’ll keep practicing this at least until I don’t have to use Force Lightning on you. You only need to keep the Hollow state stable for two seconds. Ready?”

I fought and managed to let go of the dread and fear that wanted to creep in, “Yes, teacher.”

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We passed through system after system along the Corellian Run for the next three days, only dropping out of hyperspace for major waypoints.

The Omen had already been given a very illegal transponder cycler before we left the Jedi Temple, giving out its current fake ID, the Nihl, to waypoint scanners.

By the time we dropped out of hyper in Namaryne, Corellia’s northerly neighboring system, I could at last hold a Hollow state for the proper amount of time and didn’t need to be shocked. Pain was a very good motivator to learn, but this method of teaching felt ripped straight from the pages of the old Sith scrolls on Korriban. Never had time felt so stretched out to me.

My emotional control was also so frayed by that point, the moment I achieved Taria’s goal, I excused myself to my cabin and just let the dam burst in as controlled manner as possible - breaking down into very long minutes of sobbing and crying.

I didn’t emerge from my post-breakdown meditation until my cabin’s terminal indicated that we had arrived in Namaryne.

I sat down in the pilot’s seat and it took everything I had to give a mild friendly greeting to Taria seated next to me.

It didn’t fool her for a single second.

“I didn’t like my own mentor by the end either,” she said without preamble, her hands moving and tapping on the control holos, guiding the Omen to the rendezvous point through the system’s icy and rocky Oort Cloud. “There is no way we can be gentle about the techniques we need to learn to operate as Shadows. That is why there is no master-padawan teaching amongst us, why we recruit so exclusively and rarely.”

I didn’t know how to feel that Yoda judged me capable of becoming a Shadow, if he knew this was what it entailed.

“Sensor contact, our onward ride is here.”

Holding station just fifty meters from a rather large rocky asteroid remnant, was a CEC YT-1300 light freighter that looked like it had many light years under its belt.

Taria smoothly brought the Omen in, using the ventral docking collar to connect to the port side airlock of the freighter.

“Welcome to the Zator,” she declared as we stepped through the airlock into the familiar looking curving corridor with the distinctive tubular walls and lights of a ship in the Millennium Falcon class. Yes, it wasn’t an official class, but there was no way I could look at any of these asymmetrical saucer shaped ships as anything else.

I placed a hand on the wall and felt for the age and condition of the hull and technology. “My compliments to whoever worked on this ship. You’d have to go down to the inner structural membranes to actually determine that it’s actually quite new.”

“Thank the Green Jedi,” she said mysteriously. “They did quite a bit of interior work to make the ship properly feel like a mobile home away from home, but the finishing touches must come from us.”

“I’ll get busy getting our crates transferred over.”

It was the work of a few hours to unpack those crates with the various items and clothing of our disguised identities.

As this was the freight configuration of the YT1300, there were only two cabins for the crew, one in the forward port side and another in the aft starboard. The rest was all devoted to various cargo holds, a single refresher and the aft engineering bay. I claimed the forward port side and began personalizing the space as much as possible with all manner of souvenirs, nick knacks and pics that my new alias Aven Leneeme had gathered on her travels across the galaxy. She was also a bit of a slob, so I made sure to scatter the odd bit of laundry around, make the small work desk a mess of data pads and everything else mildly asymmetrical.  

“Good enough,” Taria declared from the cabin door, she was now dressed in her own worn and stained green overall, which had code cylinders and various odd tools sticking out of the many pockets. Her hair tied up into a messy bun designed to keep it out of the way and making zero fashion statements. “I’ve done a full check and everything is in place.”

“I’ll get the Omen settled in for its nap.”

We needed to use it for the initial leg, because of speed. A YT-1300 that wasn’t Han Solo’s Millennium Falcon, wasn’t exactly known for its blistering hyperdrive, as it only came with a Class 2.0 as stock. Our carefully constructed cover was to come to Corellia for an upgrade to a Class 1.

We decoupled after I had secured the Omen into standby mode, where the onboard droid intelligence would keep a watchful eye on everything.

We took our seats in the classic utilitarian starboard cockpit and Taria took the Zator on a steady cruise while the navicomputer worked out our non-standard hyperjump to make it look like we arrived at the standard waypoint emergence of the system.

All this effort, for a cover that would be barely used for more than a few days.

“Careful Aven,” said my new ship boss Taria aka Helera Geil. “Your control will be patchy for a time until you grow used to the techniques. Besides, a lot of preparation now is the key to a successful undercover mission.”

I shored up my mental defenses and had to take a moment to get used to the physical button controls of this navicomputer before feeding the coordinates it spat out into the hyperdrive control loops. “Hyperdrive ready, boss.”

“Thanks Aven,” she pushed forward on the prominent silver lever in the middle of the console.

The Zator’s engines whined in that classic Corellian manner before the deep bass of the hyperdrive kicked in and plunged us forward into the extra-dimensional tunnel.

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From space, Corellia looked quite beautiful.

Massive blue oceans that had once served to satisfy the ancient corellian’s wanderlust and explorationist tendencies. Massive white streaks of clouds being pushed by expansive weather fronts, green forests and jungles that had been carefully resown over the last millennia to return some nature to the planet. The urban jungles on the other hand were home to over three billion sentients. The majority were human but there were recognized populations of eighteen other major galactic species, who in turn had also been born on the planet from worker migration into the famous Corellian shipyards that dotted the surface of every major continent.

A multitude of space stations hung around the world, from house sized all the way to behemoths that could easily dock dreadnoughts. Combine this with the traffic going back and forth, it made for an interesting navigational challenge that the aerospace controllers had to carefully manage. It was nothing compared to Coruscant, but it would still rank in the top ten busiest destinations in the galaxy.

We ended up in a parking orbit waiting for a descent clearance to Coronet City, which we spent more than three complete ninety minute orbits waiting for.

Six minutes of entry interface later, we emerged into a steady cruise through the upper atmosphere, plunging through massive cloud banks as we made for the surface.

The Zator emerged from one last low level cloud bank and ahead of us the Jewel of Corellia appeared.

Coronet City, an urban metropolis of over 3000 square kilometers on Corellia’s southern continent, right next to a major ocean. It reminded me of a futuristic Sydney with starship traffic added for flavor. 20 million sentients called it home and they had much more space to live in than the perpetually overcrowded Coruscant. These were beautiful buildings that stretched high into the sky, with wide boulevards between them and limited sky lanes. Most public transport was done through hyper tram on fixed grav lev tracks that sped between districts. It kept the skies mostly clear, leaving them for the multitude of starships coming and going between the various divisions of CEC shipyards and supporting industries.

Looking out at how the city glittered in the sun, that was just peeking through the clouds with glorious rays of light reflected by the moisture in the air, I couldn’t help but feel mild despair and anger at what the Empire would turn this city into.

CEC would be nationalized by the emperor and the entire city became a machine that fed the Imperial Navy with no regard to the careful environmental improvements that Corellians had wrought over the last millennia.

Far from a jewel of the planet, it would be a dour place where everyone just wanted to leave the oppressive smog and working conditions.

Our course carried us to the eastern parts of the city, right over the Coronet Zoological and Botanical Gardens, a fenced expanse of nature within the city that carefully housed everything from Corellian sand panthers, snomats, starlows and a carefully selected menagerie of offworld fauna that could survive in the climate.

A few kilometers beyond that we reached Warranty and Repair Shipyard B33, on the city outskirts, a place dedicated to servicing the YT-1300 range. 

In a single glance I could see how quickly the ship had exploded into popularity among low end cargo spacers.

Nearly every berth was practically full, with only the occasional gap here and there.

“Zator, welcome to B33. You’re clear to land in Berth 83,” said the harried voice of the local aerospace controller.

“Roger Control, Berth 83, we copy,” I said into the radio.

Taria handled the landing with a practiced ease that showed off a strong skill and familiarity with the craft for anyone watching. My montrals just loved the sound and vibration of that specific CEC engine, that evoked strong nostalgic memories from my past life.

We landed between a black and vomit green 1300 on either side of us, separated only by space and a painted line on the duracrete.

“Well, we’re on time at least,” Taria looked at her chrono. “I’ll go outside and handle admin and flimsiwork with the locals, you get us shut down and secured for the upgrade.”

What followed was a few painful hours of playing the role of cargo spacers, navigating the local corporate bureaucracy for the replacement of the Zator’s hyperdrive.

When everything was squared away it was late afternoon, the sun staining the horizon a brilliant orange as we got on board the local hyper tram to begin the journey towards the western end of the city and our true objective.

We sat next to each other on the tram, both of us tiredly munching a nerfmeat wrap that had been on sale from a fast food vendor just outside the shipyard. The tram wasn’t too packed and we at least had enough space to stretch our legs a bit as the city blurred past us at over 300 kph.

‘Ahsoka, since you’ve studied our target. What’s the best approach you think?’

‘Mata Fhernan is 72 years old, not exactly someone who can move quickly or with agility anymore. If our exfiltration goes well, we can just commandeer a hoverchair, if she doesn’t have one. Otherwise, I can just carry her on my back if it comes down to it.’

Taria gave me a lazy side-eye and thought, ‘Do you really think we’re going to have no problems with this mission?’

‘No, I don’t,’ I internally sighed. The current probability line was bearing that out in full.

Mata Fhernan was the retired mother of Ban’tena Fhernan - a renowned Republic geneticist who was currently enjoying the involuntary hospitality of the occupying CIS forces on Lanteeb.

This was not a good thing as Ban’tena’s skills could be used to make any number of nasty bioweapons.

As such, Yoda had preemptively ordered Taria and myself to get Mata into protective custody, lest her life be used as leverage to force Ban’tena into applying her skills towards the CIS cause. One of Anakin and Obi-Wan’s primary objectives in taking the 42nd Fleet to Lanteeb was actually rescuing Ban’tena.

“Next stop, Visk district,” announced the PA system.

The hyper tram decelerated sharply, the inertial dampeners letting through only a slight lean in the direction of our travel.

We disembarked into a multi-level station with huge ramps between levels, smoothly accommodating for the max capacity of the trams that were constantly arriving and departing. As with all places that had concentrated foot traffic, it was a small mecca for convenience stores for everything related to food, gadgets and other sundries. However, the nature of Visk district was apparent in the amount of elderly coming and going in hoverchairs.

The moment we left the station, we had to quickly dodge out of the way of an old man, grinning like a loon as he sped by with an impressive speed.

“Gramps! Wait! Oh, for Force’s sake!” shouted a woman who hurried onto her own swoop bike and gave pursuit.

We emerged into what was the largest retirement district I had ever personally stepped foot in.

Each world treated their elderly differently in the Corusca galaxy.

On Shili, amongst the traditionalist togruta at least, when advanced age meant that you couldn’t go on hunts anymore, you went on a last hunt alone against an akul and became its lunch. Similarly, among Mandalorians, there was no concept of ‘retirement’. You fought for the clan, until you died in battle. On Coruscant, it depended on what level you lived, but surface dwellers also had entire retirement districts that catered to the elderly’s every need and it was a similar model on Corellia.

The difference was that there was no real law or government mandated retirement age. With average human lifespan on Corellia reaching the high nineties, and medical technology capable of keeping you quite fit without extreme measures, it generally meant people only considered voluntary retirement in their mid eighties. Those with the budget and will, could simply choose to go on, with cybernetics and organ cloning being options that would let you keep leading a productive life. Of course, the older you get, the more extreme measures you would need and the more onto the fringes of society you would naturally gravitate to or be pushed. Eventually, you could join the B’omarr Order, which were monks who were literally brains in a preservative jar, controlling a spider robot construct.

The Visk district was a distinct departure from the bustling cityscape; low rise villas and bungalow style homes with curved designs that felt like landed airships or starships. These were nestled among garden belts, parks and artificial lagoons. Wide promenades lined with native trees and flowering shrubs connected the different residences, offering views of the ocean horizons and distant shipyards with their constant traffic up into the stars. White and silver duracrete structures were the norm, with large transparisteel windows, rooftop gardens and personal landing pads for speeders or even small star yachts, showing that most corellians even in retirement rarely give up their wanderlust or need for flight.

We walked past quiet outdoor cantinas and social clubs that dotted the district, where we could see elderly corellians drinking and swapping stories of the old times.

The traffic here was light and the streets were mostly catered to pedestrians, droids were in evidence everywhere to handle the maintenance and occasionally flying or walking alongside their elderly owner.

Our destination swung into view as we walked, marked ‘Cyrdoo Street’, displayed with a steadily spinning bright hologram.

Mata Fernhan’s residence was a modest single floor house that vaguely reminded me of the shape of a more aerodynamically styled front half of a CR90 corvette, nestled within a meticulously tended garden with brilliant purple flower beds, trimmed trees and perfect patches of grass, demonstrating she had a prominent green thumb.

We paused at the boundary gate of the property, which was surrounded by hip-height, non-lethal laser poles, projecting a field that would only give you a mild repulsive stun.

‘She has a visitor,’ Taria thought to me, as we were sensing two distinct presences in the Force, ‘And they’re rather close to each other. Not to mention-’

We looked at each other and immediately bolted forward, vaulting over the laser fence and sprinting as fast as we could without using the Force overtly.

She led the way and used the Force to shoulder charge her way inside through the thick wooden door, which splintered off its runners and smashed into the opposing inside wall.

We rushed left into a small living room-

Taria didn’t hesitate to send a straight flying kick directly into the side of the head of the astonished anzat assassin, who had his two feeding proboscises inside Mata’s nose, whose eyes were glassy.

The impetus was enough to rip him away and even completely tear off one of the proboscises in a small shower of blood mixed with the cerebrospinal fluid that carried what they most valued.

Taria and the anzat became a rapid blur of close-quarters combat, trading kicks, punches and deflections that would make any kung-fu enthusiast watch with awe.

Whilst I dove for our target, grabbed her head and began healing.

Thankfully, we had arrived rather early in the feeding process. Anzat attacks didn’t mean instant death and they would prefer to savor feeding like anyone would prefer to stretch out a delicious meal.

I ducked to avoid the anzat’s kick to my own head and threw out a leg sweep in a blur of speed that managed to catch his left leg, sending him flopping onto his back and buying enough time for Taria to swoop back in to keep him off me.

Healing under combat conditions was one thing, but this was ridiculous.

I carefully pulled out the torn proboscis and threw it behind me without looking.

It splattered directly into the anzat’s eyes and bought that crucial moment Taria needed.

She wrapped him up from behind, her own arms snaked around his neck.

In a heartbeat, I heard the sharp snapping of bone as the anzat’s head was forcefully turned in a way nature never intended.

Taria gazed down dispassionately as the dead anzat slumped to the floor at her feet. 

Her eyes and nose, rather alarmingly, had blood leaking out of them.

“Heal her first,” she rasped with effort, before I felt her body lose strength abruptly and collapse to the floor as well.

I pushed away astonishment and just got to work.

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A/N: Anzat, (shudders), the vampires of the Corusca galaxy, except they're not undead and can be quite strong in the Force if they've managed to feed on Force Sensitives enough. Details will come in the next chapter, but their proboscises unfurl from their cheeks, just above the jaw, but otherwise they're quite human looking.

Hope you enjoyed your New Year's Day! Have a great weekend and stay awesome folks.