The Weaving Force: Chapter 27 (Patreon)

Chapter 27:

Taylor:

Even before I opened my eyes, I knew something was up. Likely, even without my local omniscience I would have known something was up.

The giggling outside my door was something of an indicator.

I opened a single green eye, taking in the gloom of the room in the Bogano temple. Nothing out of place. Vicky, was my roommate here of course, still breathing softly with even breaths that told me she was still asleep.

I debated with myself for a second on whether or not I should shut my eyes for the few more minutes we had before our alarms went off to officially start the day.

Ultimately; I decided against it, sighing softly as I reached over to my night table, plucking my glasses free and placing them over my eyes.

There were surgeries to fix my eyes in this galaxy. The tech level was high enough. But… I didn’t really want to. Call it nostalgia or some twisted sense of self image but my glasses felt almost a part of my own personal identity. Something else that was just mine.

So I just got glasses.

Thin, horn rimmed, they even had a bit of tech in them, a little holo screen on the right lens that kept track of my heart beat and other such vitals.

A step up from my previous earth tech pair if I did say so myself.

I turned away from the front door, and grabbed hold of my clothes from the small footlocker at the end of my bed, then turned towards the shower. This one with actual water.

I detested the sonic showers some planets had. Give me water and soap any freaking day of the week.

Stepping inside I quickly brushed my teeth, showered, changed, and prepared myself for the day. We’d be leaving today, heading back to Coruscant; and while I much preferred the relative quiet of the Bogano temple to the hectic and constant noise of the primary temple and Coruscant itself, I could admit - if only to myself - that it was about time to get the kids home.

Finishing off in the shower, I stepped back out into the room just in time to hear Vicky groaning as she woke up.

“Tay…” she said miserably into her pillow, “I think your kids are outside.”

I smirked, a cheeky thing tugging at my lips. “My kids, huh?” I asked. “I thought you were their favorite. So, as their favorite, you should get up and deal with things.”

“I give up the title. It’s all yours.” She curled into her sheets. “Lemme sleep.”

I rolled my eyes, before reaching down and yanking the sheets off of her, to which she yelped sharply, complaining about the cold.

“It’s almost time to get up,” I pointed out. “Go take a shower.”

“You’re mean! Cruel!” She shivered; it actually was kind of cold. “Totally gonna fall to the dark side, you horrible sleep-denier, you!”

Now I did roll my eyes.

Marching towards the door, I stifled one last yawn before opening the sliding door with a hiss.

“Miss Taylor!” my kids greeted, some of them outright beaming as they looked at me.

I raised an eyebrow. “What’s going on?”

“We found a special bug for you!”

A shot of panic shot through me.

I didn’t sense any “special bugs”

“Where?”

As one the little gremlins parted like the red sea, and I found Terrence standing at the back of the group, and wrapped around his giggling form-

I raised an eyebrow. “What the hell is that!?” My features twisted with shock and surprise.

It… certainly looked like a bug at least to my eyes.

Maybe a muppet?

Was I being pranked?

Terence marched forward, beaming excitedly as he grabbed hold of the… whatever-it-was on his chest, gently prying it off before he held it out to me.

The little squirming… whatever reached out to me and grabbed hold of my robes. When Terence let it go, it fell a bit to land on my leg, and wrapped around it in an approximation of a hug.

I stared down at the thing: big black eyes, a small little face that looked like it was almost smiling at me, the little claws looking like they belonged on a plushie.

Seriously, what the hell was I looking at!?

“Ummmm…” the kids all smiled, excited to see my reaction to their… special bug.

“Thank you?” If I sounded uncertain, it was because I was. “Ummmm… What is it?”

“Master Plo called it something, but Master Beq’s name is a lot easier to remember,” Janice, the oldest of ‘my girls’ answered.

“And that name was?” I insisted.

“Hug bugs!” She smiled.

…

Huh?!

(X)(X)(X)

It turned out, it wasn’t a bug.

It was, in fact, a mushroom.

Hence why I couldn’t control it.

It had some kind of innate Force influence on its evolution, from what Master Plo-Koon said. It survived off of water and sunlight, and liked being around people, acting like a tiny… light side light bulb. Hugging people to make them feel better with light side energy.

A rare little thing. But perfectly safe, even beneficial.

Vicky immediately asked the stupid question.

“No.” I frowned. “We can’t keep it.”

Vicky’s hold tightened on the thing, eyes narrowing in challenge. “It’s a lovable bug that hugs people and gives them light side vibes and good feels! If ever there was a pet literally tailor made for you, its this one!”

“It’s not a bug. It is, in fact, a mushroom!”

“We’re keeping him!”

“We are not.”

Very maturely, Vicky stuck her tongue out at me.

I sighed.

“Master Plo. Please tell Vicky it’ll break some kind of customs laws to bring the damn thing across planets.”

“Not at all.” I couldn’t see my Master’s face behind that mask, but I know the bastard was laughing. “The Jedi have special privileges in such matters. A single… hug-bug won’t be an issue if you’d like to keep him.”

Vicky beamed.

My hand slapped my forehea- Ahh!

The little guy managed to squirm out of Vicky’s hug and leapt at me, fluffy little appendages wrapping around me in a perfectly decent hug.

Squee it chirped.

“Oh!” Vicky cooed. “I’ve gotta set up a spot for Mr. Huggles!”

“We are not calling him Mr. HUGGLES!” I screamed after her as she flew towards the ship that was already being loaded by the labor droids.

Master Plo chuckled.

I decided to ignore him.

“I take it, then, that we’ve conceded on taking him and now we’re just negotiating the name?”

I gave him a deadpan look.

Master Plo laughed some more.

We stood by the edge of the plateau. The high winds of the Bogano peaks gusted, catching our robes as I instinctively placed an arm around the Hug Bug to make sure it wouldn’t fall.

“Master,” I decided to ask, recognizing the rare moment of privacy.

“Hmm?”

“Why me?” I asked.

He didn’t answer, I sensed a momentary confusion and decided to clarify.

“Why Knight me?” I asked, then shrugged. “I get Victoria. But I know what the others think about me. How many think I’m already a Sith. Why Knight me?”

“You’ve never cared what others thought of you before,” he pointed out.

It was true. I didn’t. Frankly, the rumors were useful keeping others away. I’d rather be feared than exploited.

“Others, No.” I answered. “But you’re not ‘others’.”

A moment of silence, broken only by the howling wind.

“I’m honored. Truly.” He said after the moment passed. “... To answer your question. You’re ready. You’ve been ready for a long time I think. I simply believed others needed time to see that for themselves.”

My confusion must’ve shown on my face because Plo Koon turned away, looking towards the ship before he kept speaking.

“I know… why you started speaking again Taylor. Why you forced yourself to.”

I stiffened, my heart stuttering in my chest, a sharp stinging knife of betrayal cutting through my stomach and twisting.

“Victoria didn’t tell me-” He hastened to say, no doubt sensing my distress. “I deduced it myself.”

“How?” I demanded.

“You’re both my students.” The rumble of his voice was calming, almost soothing. “I’ve grown to know the both of you. In all the time I’ve known Victoria, she’s only ever backed down from something once… and it happened at the same time I heard your voice for the first time.”

I…

I hadn’t thought he’d been that observant.

"I remember your fear. I remember your nightmares. The pain in your mind when you heard the sound of your own speech in your ears… and how you kept forcing yourself to continue in spite of it. Because there was something more important to you than your fear.”

He turned his head, looking at me again as he spoke.

“What trial could I place before you- greater than the one you already conquered for the sake of another; my Student?”

I didn’t have an answer to that.

“You’re ready.” He repeated, conviction suffusing the words like bandied steel.

…

“Thank you Master.”

(X)(X)(X)

Alexandria:

Satine rubbed at her forehead, a headache no doubt throbbing under her skull.

For once, Alexandria wasn’t responsible for it; at least not directly and barely even indirectly.

“I understand.” The Duchess said. “But do you understand that we are a pacifist nation?” She insisted. “We’re willing to provide political and economic aid, but when it comes to direct military intervention-”

“We will take all the help we can get lady Satine.” The Twilek answered, bowing deeply, almost kowtowing on the floor. “Orn Free Taa, is a greedy criminal. He exploits Ryloth as badly as the Hutts.” He pleaded. “Our people need aid. Even if you don’t provide direct military help, even just a safe haven for our non-combatants will do so much to aid our fighting men, knowing their loved ones are safe.”

Alexandria could see the literal war happening within Satine, a genuine desire to help grappling with the hidebound philosophy she’d based her entire life’s moral compass around.

If she agreed to this… it was one step closer to the need for Mandalore to muster a genuine military- At the absolute least a Planetary defense force beyond that of the royal guard.

If she didn’t then she condemned the Twilek to further exploitation.

Satine was many things, selfish and cruel were not part of that list.

The Duchess stood from her throne, descending the few steps to usher the Twilek freedom fighter to his feet. “Please. Stand. Rest. It’s been a long journey for you and I must discuss this with my advisors to see how far we might be able to accommodate you.”

The Twilek did stand, looking around. “But- you will help?” He asked.

His tears weren’t fake, nor was his desperation, but he was playing it up, hoping sympathy would carry him to his goal. He was not so proud to not do whatever he felt he needed to do.

She didn’t see the need to call him out at the moment.

“Of course.” Satine promised, then gestured to the door. “Please. Go and rest, we’ll reconvene first thing tomorrow.”

The Twilek bowed, clearing his throat and composing himself before nodding and marching out, escorted by a servant.

As the door closed, Satine released the breath she’d been holding, the tension threading through her shoulders however, didn’t ease.

“I suppose you’re pleased by this development.” The Duchess finally said, her voice almost accusing.

Alexandria allowed herself to shrug. “Would you believe me if I said no.”

Satine scoffed. “And why’s that?”

“Aiding the twi'leks risks bringing the Republic’s attention onto the situation. That isn’t a good thing.” She made her way over towards a drawer table, a small collection of drinks resting on its surface. It wouldn’t do much, but she found drinks eased tension just a bit, and while Satine wasn’t an alcoholic, in times like these a stiff drink went down very well with her.

The Duchess wasn’t stupid enough to ask “why not” thankfully; Alexandria had eroded that naivete bit by bit. Instead she thought onto the reasons for herself why the Republic’s involvement now was an unwelcome wrinkle.

Firstly, because the Republic knew about the exploitation of the Twi'leks already and hadn’t done anything about it. They hadn’t done anything about it for the last several millennia since the problem began. Which meant they liked the status quo on Ryloth. The cadre of oligarchs and big money influence that all but ran the republic liked access to free labor in terms of slaves and free distractions in terms of sex workers female twi'leks represented across the galaxy.

Keep the population distracted with mindless revelry and they tend to not notice problems.

Twi'lek sex slaves were a cheap form of revelry.

Mandalore was throwing a wrench into that. The republic didn’t like that they were stirring up trouble with the Hutts, but they would tolerate it because it didn’t affect the Republic’s finances.

Now they suddenly would be.

She had no doubt the instant that fat bloated Rylothian Senator caught wind of this he’d go straight to the Chancellor.

And the Chancellor would-

“Palpatine will use this to bring us into line.” Satine deduced.

Alexandria allowed herself to smile. Just a bit. Good girl. She thought, pleased that the woman’s hidebound adherence to her imbecilic notion of faux pacifism hadn’t calcified her political instincts.

“He will certainly try.” The Chancellor was a savvy political entity. She wasn’t sure how far his reach and power truly extended, but she had little doubt he wanted Mandalore to stop making waves.

If the republic caught wind of this crisis on Ryloth, or more specifically; Mandalore’s intervention in the crisis too soon- then Palpatine could spin it however he wished. Impose sanctions, block trade, force Satine into an untenable position where she’d have to give into his demands or strike out on her own, at which point the Hutts would pounce without the nominal backing of the Republic behind Mandalore.

So the answer was simple-

“We need to get ahead of this and do it quickly.” Alexandria said, finishing pouring the both of them drinks before grabbing her own along with Satine’s and marching over to the woman to give it to her.

Satine eyed her warily, eyes trying to discern what exactly Alexandria was planning by the force of her glare alone.

Alexandria settled her weight on her back foot, crossing one arm under the other as she swirled her drink. “Clan Wren is one of the last holdout clans opposing your rule.”

Satine’s eyes narrowed further, the pieces clicking in her head. “You want to send them to Ryloth.”

“Let Wren have their fight.” She pressed. “Promise them support, promise them that when the time is right their exiles will be welcomed back and if they can prove that they can conduct themselves as defenders that you will consider reforms.”

“I will do no such thing!” the Duchess snarled, fingers tightening over the neck of her glass.

Alexandria fought the urge to sigh. “Considering reforms isn’t the same as adopting reforms.”

“So lie to them? Breaking any level of goodwill these long years of negotiations may have built up and revitalized the Mandalorian civil crisis by showing my enemies that I’m indeed the dishonorable liar and coward they’ve always accused me of being?”

Alexandria offered an easy shrug. “If you wish to proceed that way that’s your choice.” She took a sip of her drink. “I would consider the reforms but clearly it's not an option for one so… principled- such as yourself..”

The word fell off her lips like an insult and not for the first time Alexandria knew that Satine was contemplating finally being rid of her entirely.

But then rational considerations took over. Satine knew better than anyone how much Alexandria had coerced, blackmailed and strong-armed the clans into compliance with ‘her way’ , many of the most hardline factions falling into line with a whispered word here and a hidden threat there.

The pacifist didn’t know the details and she didn’t want to know. But she knew that letting Alexandria go would simply let the wolves out of their cages to begin circling again.

The Duchess didn’t know the full extent of Alexandria’s actions, but she knew enough about the results and what exactly was the lynchpin holding those results together and it certainly wasn’t the ideals of pacifism.

Satine felt she held the tiger by the ears when dealing with her.

She didn’t like it; but she didn’t dare let it go.

The former Cauldron member took another sip of her drink.

Satine let her lip curl in a sneer, taking a big gulp of her own drink as if to wash the taste from her mouth.

“If… I say if I allow Wren to go to Ryloth and join the Twilek freedom fighters. What then?

“Then we have a buffer zone between ourselves and Republic interference.” Came the easy reply. “The Twileks hired clan Wren independently. We have nothing to do with it; officially at least. Wren is known to be in opposition to your reforms so, truthfully, it's a strong case of plausible deniability if I’ve ever heard one. If Wren sends back Twilek refugees then… well… bound by the safe haven charter we are obligated to help where we can.” She let herself smirk. “We’ve broken no laws.”

“That will stall them, not stop them.” Satine countered. “Once they get around the debate of legality, economic measures will be taken. They’ll strangle our ability to help the refugees even if they have to make it impossible to buy them food. Outright condemning us for it isn’t necessary.”

“Then we’d need to find a stable economic lifeline… didn’t you have a negotiation soon with the trade federation?”

Satine’s eyebrows raised. “You’d rather get in business with the trade federation than the Republic? They, I will say, are criminals. At least some of the republic consists of good people.”

“They are the short term option.” Alexandria admitted. “If you’d like a more long term option, then perhaps you might reach out to some of those planets in the republic you claim are good. A coalition would go a long way to minimize any damage caused by economic sanctions if we’re already trading with several stable systems that would be willing to carry an anti-slavery torch in more than just pretty posturing.

Satine’s eyes grew contemplative, then gleamed with an idea.

“I suppose we both have work to do.”

Alexandria nodded. “That we do.”(X)(X)(X)

Now I open the floor to the great debate of our time:

What shall be the name of our Hug Bug!!!?