The Weaving Force: Chapter 26 (Patreon)

Chapter 26:

Taylor:

Of all the planets we’ve visited… I think, truthfully… this was the most beautiful one.

Which considering its name is a bit ironic.

Bogano.

It just sounds unpleasant. Of course it does: It has the word ‘Bog’ as the first half of its name!

But there weren’t any bogs. Just grassy mountain plateaus that could never have been natural back on earth. Clear blue/green skies and crystal blue waters, cascading down from the rocky crevices, melting from the icy peaks above in the high noon sun.

It was… beautiful. Peaceful.

I’m sure Vicky would say something clever about me liking it because “bogs have bugs” or something.

Idiot.

“Miss Taylor.”

I turned, looking over my shoulder, allowing myself to smile just a tiny bit.

“Yes, Kyona?” My voice is soft. It usually is now. I learned the strange power silence has when I remained quiet for so very long after we arrived here. Most in the Temple still didn’t know the sound of my true voice. But the children did. I… didn’t want to scare them.

They were, perhaps, one of the aspects I’d learned to enjoy more than most things in this new life we fell into.

Kyona sniffled, wiping her large black eyes. Her head tendrils twitched slightly, which told me this was a genuine upset on her part. Not simply tears for the sake of dramatics.

“Daven and Gam s-- they said that Miss Vicky only takes younglings she likes flying, and that she wasn’t gonna take me because my skin feels weird and icky.”

I’d known, of course. Bogano did, in fact, have quite a few bugs, most of which were evolutionarily comparable with those on Earth, at least ‘senses’ wise. So nearly everything that happened at or near camp, I was well aware of.

I also knew that Kyona had kicked Daven rather hard in the foot earlier because he wouldn’t share his ball, and that Gab probably had a bit of a crush on her and this was his equivalent of pulling pigtails.

“Did they?” I asked, turning to walk away from the edge of the platform towards little Kyona, surprised, but not very as the girl latched onto my hip in a hug.

I let myself smile again, my hand reaching down to pat the girl over the head, her head-tails shifting and quivering under my touch. Her skin was clammy and cold, with a mucousy membrane. I didn’t care much. Vicky wouldn’t either.

“I can tell you,” I promised, “that Vicky always takes good boys and girls on flights. Have you been a good girl?” I demanded, urging her to walk as we made our way closer to the camp.

She nodded against my leg. “Mmh-hmm.”

“Really?” I asked. “But don’t good boys and girls stay with their buddy, Kyona?”

She stiffened just a bit. “Baret was eating in the big tent,” she thought quickly.

Not a lie, per se. Though Baret was, at the moment, playing a game of tag with some of the other kids on the north side of camp.

Still… “And you, having wandered out of camp alone without your buddy?” I pressed.

“I knew you’d be here!” she said defensively, her voice rising in pitch and her eyes wide, black orbs at the thought that she might not get to ride with Vicky tomorrow. “You always know where all of us are a-and- and you know what we’re doing so we’re ok.”

I patted her again on the head. “Whether you knew or not and what I know or don’t know, doesn’t matter. What is the most important rule?”

She looked down, her feet shifting as her voice took on a miserable tone. “Stay with your buddy.”

“That’s right,” I said, letting her stew in silence for a time before I let up.

“I won’t tell Miss Victoria about it.”

Her head snapped back up towards me, wide eyed with the tentative signs of hope beginning to bloom.

“R-really?!”

I let myself smile, just a little bit. “Really. But only if you-”

“Stay with my buddy.”

“Yes,” I affirmed. “Now, go find him and stay together.”

“Ok, Miss Hebert!” The girl nodded, once more leaning forward to hug my leg in a fairly strong squeeze before she turned and rushed away with signs of her senses spreading out across the currents of the Force to aid in her search.

She was rather loud in the effort, truth be told.

“And here I thought I was supposed to be their favorite!? You tryin’ to steal my thunder, playin’ nice when no one’s looking?”

I rolled my eyes, not even bothering to look above as Vicky floated down with what was probably a big stupid smile on her face.

Didn’t need bugs or Force powers to sense that.

“I’ll let you think that,” I answered, a smile tugging at the corner of my lips. “You’d pout for a week if you ever learned who their real favorite is.”

She made a sound, and I didn’t exactly need the bug hiding in the sleeve of her robe to picture her placing a hand over her chest. “Offended!” she mock complained. “I’ll have you know my pouting is downright adorable. You’d be lucky to see it for a week.”

I rolled my eyes. Again.

“Done for the day?” I asked.

“Sort of,” she answered. “Master Plo wanted to talk to us.”

Did he? It hadn’t taken very long for the Jedi Council to… adapt to my abilities. Given my and Vicky’s rather… unique presence in the Force, feeling distinctly colder, and those feelings running along the use of our powers, if the Masters focused, they could feel out the insects near them.

So I couldn’t spy on them without their knowing.

So a… compromise had been agreed to.

There were places, like the Jedi Council Chamber, or here on Bogano, the central chamber in the Monolith of the main temple, that I’d keep my insects out of. Outside of those areas, it was fair game.

Bathrooms were also on the list but given how insects kind of congregated around there without my influence, there wasn’t exactly much I could do.

I hadn’t liked it then, and I didn’t like it now. But Vicky had been right when she’d pleaded with me to do as they asked. We needed help in this galaxy. The Jedi didn’t need us.

So if the cost of our stay was my being “blind” in a room or two… I could stomach it.

Until they gave me a reason to think otherwise.

Master Plo had been in the central chamber for most of the day alongside Master Beq and Master Dai.

I didn’t know what they’d been talking about, obviously, but I doubted it was anything too bad. More likely than not discussing how this little “venture” seemed to have panned out for the younglings. We’d be heading for Coruscant soon and it’d be best if all the Creche Masters got their reports ready with all their proverbial I’s dotted and their T’s crossed.

Vicky floated in front of me, arms held out. “Come on,” she urged. “I’ll give ya a lift. Kids love this, don’t-cha-know?” she winked.

I frowned. “I have two perfectly good legs,” I answered. The temple wasn’t even that far, I could see it from here.

“Yeah, but I’m faster.” And without letting me get another word in edgewise, Vicky lurched forward and manhandled me into a bridal carry. “Yoink”

I would have grumbled if that in of itself wasn’t even more undignified than this already was.

We swooped over the camp, roughly thirty pairs of eyes following after us, little boys and girls gasping and smiling, delighted. Vicky’s flying never failed to get a surge of sheer wonder from all the younglings that saw it.

There were five Knights with us, recent promotions mostly, those that were still little more than Padawans themselves, well used to the Creche duties and taking care of kids. With this first experiment being so “wild” for the Council, letting kids out of the Temple to visit other worlds in person as sort of an extended field trip, many of them didn’t want to leave anything to chance.

When we touched down, Padawan Vebb, the Mon Calamari Padawan of Master Kit Fisto, flinched when he saw me. He tried to hide it, bowing politely and stammering out our names, but my bugs caught the sharp intake of breath, the way his feet almost took a step back, and the sickly sour taste of his mucous layer over his skin.

“Ahh, Padawans Hebert, Dallon,” he nodded. “M-masters Dai, Beq and Plo have been expecting you, please, just this way.”

Vicky set me down, smiling brightly. “Thanks, Vebb! Lead the way!”

He escorted us forward, and as he walked I took note of his lightsaber placement, his stance, the subconscious tells the insects could pick up to try and glean something of his thoughts and feelings, but there was very little beyond the surface level nervousness that could mean anything. Hell, it was actually his default state whenever I so much as breathed somewhere behind him.

Entering the central chamber with its basin of clear waters, I wasn’t surprised to find the three Masters sitting amidst the proxy council seats they’d installed shortly after their arrival. Master Plo was the first to notice our arrival, breaking away from the conversation as he stood.

“Ahh, Victoria, Taylor,” our teacher said, genuine warmth suffusing his voice and feeling in the Force.

That is something I genuinely appreciated about these abilities. Very rarely did I have to second guess people’s intentions, the face they hid behind the masks of everyday life was almost plainly visible now to both our eyes.

For someone like me, someone with my history – both true and false – it was a comfort.

I know there were times Victoria may have disagreed with me, but I would forever prefer this certainty over the constant paranoia of wondering if this person I wanted to trust was someone I even could trust, or someone simply playing me false.

Master Plo Koon, always above everything, was honest. He said when he was disappointed, when he was proud, when he was angry or sad. He did not ever try to deceive us and that, beyond his seemingly infinite patience, was something I deeply appreciated.

So when I bowed my head lightly and nodded, the greeting I gave was equally warm, though you’d never really hear it in my voice. “Master.”

“Hey, Teach,” Vicky smiled next to me, and I had to wonder if she’d be so cavalier if Yoda and his stick were within the same star system.

She turned and waved at Masters Beq and Dai, who were also beginning to stand, taking their places around Master Plo.

Their feelings were muted in the Force, but their faces weren’t. Beq’s smile was a small but sure thing on his face, and Master Dai’s wizened old features almost beamed with a toothless smile as he stroked his beard.

“Firstly, I would like to congratulate you both on this… idea… of taking the younglings beyond the Temple to experience various places in the galaxy. I’ve discussed the events of the last several weeks with the Creche Masters, and they agree: the development and engagement of all the younglings within the program is remarkable.”

“You were the ones who took most of the ris-” I tried to say, but was cut off as Vicky’s arm wrapped around my shoulders and neck in either a choke hold, or a hug, possibly both.

Her weight settled over me, making me hunch forward a little bit.

“Hey now, give yourself some credit, Tay-girl. You moved heaven and freaking earth to get the Council to agree to this,” she smiled a big, toothy grin. “You deserve some props, girl.”

I tried not to fidget where I stood.

Truth was, I had wanted this. Though honestly, looking back, I don’t think I wanted this for the “good” reasons I may have.

Sure. The younglings were engaged and excited. And they needed to get out of that Temple and expand their horizons beyond the proverbial four bare walls. All of that was true…

But maybe, a part of me had just wanted to play-act like Annette Hebert, as opposed to Taylor Hebert instead.

I was self-aware enough to admit that.

I just wasn’t sure if that was a good thing, or a selfish thing.

“Victoria’s right, you did put in a lot of effort to make this a possibility. And she has done as much as she could to support you as well. The both of you showed the best of yourselves in this endeavor and have made me proud.”

“Awwww,” Vicky’s hold tightened over me, and I didn’t doubt that, if I looked, the beginnings of what may have been watery eyes would have greeted me. “Thanks so much, Teach!”

“That’s why I’d like to tell you both: once we return to Coruscant, I will inform the Council that it is my belief that both of you are ready for your Jedi Trials.”

I felt myself stiffen in surprise. Beside me, Victoria did the same.

“As a fellow Master who’s in charge of one of the Creche’s present on this planet, I concur with Master Plo’s belief,” Master Beq’s smile widened, finally allowed to reveal itself in full along with his own mingled feeling of pride and joy in the Force around him. “In my report, I will second the Master’s proposal that you be allowed to undertake your Trials.

“As will I,” Master Dai’s whisper was breathy, a gumless smile spreading as well.

“But…” Vicky started, “But I thought most Padawans were… well, Padawans for over a decade at least.”

“Most Padawans are much younger. To be a Padawan isn’t only about learning the Force. The Master teaches and guides his student in the ways of the galaxy. The reality beyond the Temple walls. In truth, in this respect, I have perhaps learned more from you than you have from me,” Master Plo declared. “The mysteries of the Force are innumerable. If power within the Force was the sole measure by which we measure the worthiness of a person to be a Knight, even Master Yoda might still be a Padawan,” Master Plo shook his head. “No, you’re both ready,” he insisted. “I know it. And I believe you know it somewhere within you as well.”

For a moment, I didn’t say anything, unsure of how to respond.

Then, before I could, I heard Vicky beside me.

“I can still call you ‘Teach,’ right?”

Plo Koon chuckled.

(X)(X)(X)

Dennis

“You’ve come highly recommended. Both of you have,” the client clarified, sipping a bit of his tea.

“I get that,” Dennis answered, fiddling over the documents. “But like… this isn’t our usual MO these days.

“But it was at one point,” the client retorted. You possess a rather unique set of skills. Skills that are of particular value to my current set of needs,” he said, taking another sip. “Few people are known as decent stealth smugglers, investigators and combat ready operatives all in one.”

Dennis turned his head, looking beside himself towards Miss Militia in askance, wondering if she was really ok with this.

His long time friend and mentor turned, meeting his gaze, and he got the message.

“I trust the payment is sufficient?” the client asked, interrupting his train of thought.

“Give us a minute to discuss things,” he answered perhaps a bit too abruptly as he stood.

The client didn’t seem perturbed in the least, eyes closed as he continued sipping his tea.

“Of course.”

He slid his chair aside, and Miss Militia’s did the same as she followed him to the edge of the room.

“You ok with this?” she whispered.

“Are you?” he couldn’t have stopped the incredulity from slipping into his voice if he tried. “Hannah, you’re the one with two kids! And everything I’m hearing so far tells me this one might be dangerous.”

“I know. That’s why I don’t want you going alone,” she answered, crossing her arms. “And with how much you’ve angered the Hutts, every run you go on is turning dangerous. That last one nearly killed you and Rugess.”

“I say again…” he stressed. “You have two kids. I’m… ok with risks on me, but I don’t wanna be the reason Little Jen and Daryan grow up with just Saxon in the picture. He’ll teach them to never laugh at any of my jokes.”

She gave him a deadpan look. “You’re not funny.”

“See, he’s doing it to you already!” he retorted, his own smile tugging on his lip before he let it slip. “Look… I’m ok doing this alone, Miss M.”

“And I’m not ok with you doing it alone,” she crossed her arms, the beskar vambraces clinking softly against the equally priceless beskar bracelet around her wrist.

The proposal gift Saxon had made just for her. And by “made” Dennis meant “made” as in hand forged the damn thing himself. He was pretty sure Militia appreciated that over the value of the priceless metal honestly.

She bunched up her shoulders. “Alexandria and Satine both agree that this job is actually an important one. If they are agreeing on something, it’s worth following up on. So either you take me with you, or I’m grounding your ship.”

He scoffed. “You can’t do that!”

A raised, challenging eyebrow answered him.

He paled. “Wait… Can you do that?!”

Her weapon shifted into a very large, very dangerous cannon at her hip. “If I can’t ground your ship, shooting you in something unimportant is gonna ground you either way.”

“Violent!” he balked.

“Motherhood does that to you,” she smirked, then grew serious. “I’m not letting you go alone. End of story.”

“Why can’t I just take your Hubby?” he demanded.

“If it’s as dangerous as we’re all thinking…” her gun shifted again, a rapid fire display of the various weapons and utility she could bring to bear that Saxon just… couldn’t.

The point was obvious.

Dennis took a breath, shaking his head.

He thought for a moment.

“Fine,” he could admit, it needed looking into. He didn’t put much stock in Alexandria even now after all these years… But the evidence gathered and the picture it was painting…

Yeah, it needed looking into.

He reached over, his fingers placing themselves over Militia’s upper chest. “But nothing… stupid, alright? You promise me right now you do everything you can to get back to Little Jen and Mikey, alright?”

She smiled. “You sound like Saxon.”

“The big guy strung more than three words together in a sentence?” he smirked.

“Nope,” she popped the P. “Promise you’ll return,” she rumbled, imitating her husband’s voice.

He couldn’t help the sharp bark of laughter before he stifled it, even as Militia’s features softened in fond remembrance of whatever moment she and her Mandalorian husband shared.

Making their way back to the table, he sat across from the client again.

“Alright,” he sighed. “So bring us up to speed. “What the heck is a ‘Sith Lord’, and why is it a problem?”

Count Yan Dooku finished sipping the last of his tea, settling the cup down with a soft clink before his fingers laced together.

“I’m pleased you asked, dear Kronos.”(x)(x)(x)

Guess who's back. :)