Interlude: Year 1 (Patreon)

Interlude: Year 1

Siri Tachi:

Nar Shaddaa

She hated Nar Shaddaa.

It wasn’t right for a Jedi to hate.

But then… she barely remembered what being a Jedi was at all.

It felt like a half-faded dream. A life someone else had lived.

This felt like her life now. Back alley deals, fighting pits, slave auctions, murders… and worse.

She knew what her mission was, what it needed. She focused on that, kept it tightly clutched to her chest.

She was close now. She was so close, and the whole network would come crashing down.

If this gathering was as big as she’d been led to believe… then that was it. It was over.

She could report back to the Council. Give her findings. They’d take the evidence and break apart the entire cabal on the Western Fringe of Hutt Space. Millions freed. Billions of credits worth of people, weapons, resources.

All she needed was for this one thing, this one gathering of the Hutt bosses to actually be what she thought it would be.

And then… then it would be over.

Krayn was nearby; the T’surr warlord stood with a confident posture. While she and all of Krayn’s men were fully armed, he carried no weapons, though he was covered head to toe in thick plate armor.

One by one, the other parties filed into the gathering. The ‘weaker’ organizations arrived first, of course. If they tried to show up the larger clans they would be barred entry. Hutts were petty like that.

The Boonda clan, the White Knives, Joolkur, and Hissus-tre.

Slavers, one and all. Pirates, mercenaries, scum.

Then more. Gardulla the Hutt, Bokusho, the Black Sun, the Exchange, the Assanid Syndicate.

Finally…

The primary holo screen lit up.

Jabba.

Subtly, she reached up to the small, barely there pin on her belt and the recorder started its function.

Jabba opened up the meeting. It was unfortunate that he hadn’t come himself, but it had been a pipe dream to assume he would.

The southern Outer Rim was HIS domain; he wouldn’t leave it for anyone, regardless of how important the meeting was.

“I see we’re all here. Good,” He spoke in Huttese, no translator droid needed; everyone here knew better than to risk asking for one even if they didn’t know the language. “I won’t crawl around the egg shell: our profits are shrinking. I want this solved.”

The ancient and powerful Hutt sneered, and Siri had to fight the urge to smile at the declaration.

For Jabba to know there was an issue was one thing, for him to care another. For him to admit it, even better.

“The Mandalorians are making raids far more risky, and therefore more expensive,” a Houk, from the Black Sun, barked. “They’re even attacking our transports with fully armed gunships, not just fighters and armed freighters. Former slaves are being adopted into clans, and they’re setting up patrols around targets that were always a lay-up,” he complained. “Ryloth looks like a warzone. The only slaves that are still safe enough to grab up and sell are Evocii, and that’s just because the little shits live on Hutta.”

“All I hear are excuses,”  Gardulla pointed with a fat, jiggly roll of a finger. “The Black Sun was hired to keep upstarts in line.”

Again, she had to fight the urge to smile. She knew what Gardulla was getting at. The thorn in the side of many slavers. The little pebble that had rolled down the hill, striking here and there until it was an avalanche.

She was grateful, so very grateful, that the Jedi Council had listened and answered her plea for help.

Frankly, she hadn’t been sure that they would.

“Which they’ve failed to do in spectacular fashion,” a member of the Exchange answered through mouth replaced with heavy cybernetics, along with his eyes and ears. “Kronos is still alive, his bounty unclaimed. He’s become even more bold of late. No doubt his continued existence is a large part of what’s encouraging this disorder-”

“Oh, stop it, you!”

Siri felt her heart stop.

As one, everyone, even some of the Hutts, whirled around towards the unexpected voice, weapons drawn.

When she turned, her eyes fell on the object of discussion, and it was only then that she sensed him in the force, like an obelisk of cold ice jutting out of the ground.

Kronos was fully armored, holding one hand to his chest, the other up towards where his mouth would be, swishing back and forth as he rocked on his heels and giggled like a coquettish schoolgirl.

Deafening, incredulous silence swallowed the room; nearly seventy mercenaries and criminals staring at the one, lonely idiot that had somehow just waltzed into his own grave.

Kronos stopped rocking.

“Pssst. That actually means to keep the compliments coming,” he faux-whispered, leaning forward with a hand against his faceplate as if shielding the side of his mouth.

Jabba was the first one to recover, breaking his eyes away from the… imbecile and towards the general room.

He pointed.

“One hundred million for the man who shoots him dead.”

The offer in credits was seemingly matched by the number of shots.

An absolute deluge of highly energized particle fire cascaded out of every possible blaster configuration imaginable. Reds, greens, yellows, and even purple bolts firing across the room in a blindingly bright display that Siri was certain lasted for almost a full minute.

By the time it was done… everything had been obliterated.

The wall, the desk, even the banners hanging off the walls far behind him. All of it was just melted slag and smoking cinders.

Everything, but him.

Kronos still stood there. Some kind of… strange energy shield she’d never seen before turning his armor into an off color, holding him perfectly still as he leaned back unnaturally in the air with one leg crossed over the other.

She wondered for a moment if it was some strange hologram, but no. She sensed him right here, even that odd coldness in the Force had grown in strength, like the moon drawing closer in the night sky.

“Oh, darlings, what a warm welcome!” Kronos spoke, his voice slightly muffled, as though sound was having trouble escaping his helmet, or he was having trouble moving his mouth. “That pretty light show just for me!? I’m touched. Let me reciprocate.”

Suddenly the five doors to the auditorium opened, hissing as they slid into the walls, and Siri snapped her eyes up, feeling the veil in the Force itself seemingly pulled back as she suddenly sensed… everything beyond these walls that she hadn’t even realized she’d been blind to just seconds ago.

Three, distinctive sounds made her heart stutter in her chest again today.

‘Snap-hiss’

Lightsabers – two blue, one gold – were at the doors, their owners stepping inside. Mandalorian commandos from Clan Wren, who had been doggedly fighting on Ryloth for at least an entire year now, surged inwards, fully armored and heavy weapons ready as they surrounded the shocked criminals.

“Gotta warn you though-” Kronos’ still muffled voice carried a laugh this time. “Mine are bigger than yours”

The ensuing firefight was… chaos. Siri stood, frozen with indecision on whether she should try and keep her cover, or finally, finally lash out against the slaver scum she’d wanted to run through with her blade for so long.

Her eyes wandered to the Jedi, looking to them for an answer. The one to her right, with the blue blade, moved like a Jedi Guardian of old legend, strong and fast. She saw seemingly-human fists enhanced with raw power beyond human capabilities flatten Whiphids and Gamorreans in single blows. She saw that blue blade flash in decisive, powerful cuts. The woman wielding it walked through blaster fire like rain drops as she carved a line straight through the criminals to reach the Black Sun Houk that was leading them.

The Houk were a strong race. Some were stronger even than Wookiees, and most were three times as violent. They could literally rip a human apart limb from limb with their bare hands. She’d seen it happen more than enough times during her time here.

When the Houk charged the Guardian with a shock maul that could have crushed a speeder car in a single blow, the maul already pulled back for a titanic swing, the last thing she expected was for the Jedi woman to whirl into the blow, her fist shattering the head of the maul into shards of metal with a single bare fisted punch before her blade whipped around and sliced the Houk’s arm off at the elbow.

To Siri’s left, another scene of chaos: insects, buzzing and swarming around the criminals, biting, stinging, clawing. Men ran in panic as a dark haired Shadow with a golden blade walked through the swarm, the light of its weapon reflecting off the chitinous yellow eyes of its ghoulish mask as the dark figure yanked weapons out of shaking hands and used telekinetic throws to send sapients slamming into walls and ceilings. The Mandalorian commandos behind the swarm laid into the disorganized mob with precise, deadly shots, taking cover in the writhing mass of insects, revealing themselves through the gloom only in the flashing burst of blaster fire from their rifles.

A hand grabbed at her shoulder, yanking her around to see Krayn. The Warlord snarled to her face, raw fury on his snarling lips and burning eyes. “What are you doing!? Figh-”

His sentence was cut off.

With a sudden leap, someone was there, in front of her. Krayn brought his spear up, ready to block, but with a single slash of the blue blade, the spear was cut in two, and Krayn, the monster she’d served for nearly six years of her life… was dead.

Her eyes followed the fall of the corpse as he fell over, his towering frame seeming so small as he thumped into the ground, stone dead.

She felt cold. Numb. Disbelief warred with relief and fury.

She wanted to be the one to bring him in.

She wanted to be the one to bring him to justice…

She wanted to be the one to kill the bastard!

She brought her eyes up, away from the sack of meat and dead monster at her feet towards the Jedi that had robbed her of her victory, feeling anger and resentment boil within her.

And like a candle in a hurricane… the feeling was snuffed out.

Adi Gallia stared back at her, gentle, worried eyes looking up at the one time Padawan that was once shorter than she was, but no longer. Soft, kind hands reached up towards her face, cradling her cheeks with the most tender of caress.

“It’s over, Siri,” Adi whispered, her voice somehow carrying over the buzzing noise of insects.

Siri reached up, her hands grabbing hold of Adi’s shoulders, fingers digging into soft robes and the flesh underneath.

Why was it so hard to breathe?

Her fingers turned into claws, fisting the fabric, her legs were shaking.

Why couldn’t she breathe?

Adi’s hands moved away from her face, going under her arms and holding her up, and suddenly all of Siri’s strength seemed to abandon her, knees buckling, muscles shuddering, and she still couldn’t breathe!

She didn’t even realize she was crying and she wasn’t sure when her hands wrapped around Adi’s body, clutching at her Master like a youngling freshly arrived at the Creche, or when Adi fell to her knees beside her, pulling her head close to her chest and rocking her with soft whispers in her ear.

“It’s over. You’re coming home.”

(X)(X)(X)

Taylor:

“How’s she doing?”

Dennis whispered his question softly, as though worried his voice would carry to the Vista’s medbay.

An addition made by Dooku, if I understood the story correctly. Dennis still complained that the old man could have picked a better spot and didn’t need to gut the ship’s onboard bar to make room for said medbay.

But honestly, if Dennis wanted to argue with a dead guy, that was his problem.

“She’s exhausted,” Adi Gallia whispered just as softly. “Resting for now, but I’m… concerned,” she sighed, leaning forward to rub at her forehead. “I’ve never… I’d never seen her like that.” The woman’s unease mixed with her guilt and despair.

Good.

“She just… came completely undone,” the Master lamented

“She’s been undercover for so long,” Vicky reached over, placing a comforting hand on Adi’s shoulder. “It must’ve come as a shock for it to suddenly be done, ya know.”

Adi opened her mouth but then snapped it shut, her eyes closing as she visibly gathered herself. She, it seemed, was just as shaken as her Padawan.

Again. Good.

The more I learned about Siri’s situation, the less and less I liked it. It touched a nerve that was far too close to home.

I didn’t even know if it was better or worse in her case.

I’d been a dumb kid going in well over my head.

Yes, Armsmaster had been an ass. Yes, he’d screwed me over, repeatedly. But at the very least he HAD warned me that I was getting in over my head at least once.

The Jedi, what they’d done and how they handled it, or rather didn’t, was an entirely new level of sheer apathetic malice. As oxymoronic as that sounded.

They let a girl in her teens go off into a slaver ring. Trusting that ‘Jedi training’ would be enough to see her through.

She had no handler, no contact beyond a dead drop where she left a progress report or received new instructions every six months.

Six MONTHS.

So in six years she’d gotten and received messages twelve times.

That was it. That was the extent of the Jedi’s ‘handling’ of this.

Her emergency contact device had been used exactly once. To save Dennis back when the Bando Gora were called to kill him.

I was furious.

Yarael Poof; Poof was in charge of the Jedi Investigators, and even considering his species’ rather unique disposition for this type of work didn’t abate my fury much.

Two brains allowed him to disassociate from work like this. A long lifespan of anywhere from two hundred to four hundred years made six seem like a very short time to him.

For him and many other species, his practices and policies were efficient. No one under his watch had been discovered in their undercover tasks, not once in his nearly seventy years at the head of the Investigators, and in the event they used their emergency beacon due to needing to be pulled out or felt themselves at risk of falling, Poof pulled them out immediately, no questions asked.

But it was the sheer… arrogance of it. This… blind belief that the Jedi Code was enough for every situation.

To his credit, Poof listened to me when I barged into his office. And no, that wasn’t an exaggeration. I did barge in and he genuinely did listen, even invited Vicky and myself to a meeting later to see what adjustments could be made for future operations.

But that didn’t make me any less pissed at him for letting it get to this point.

I felt a rumble behind my eyelids, an eye peeking open in askance, the brush of its presence entering my mind.

“It’s fine,” I thought.

The eye closed again, resuming its silent… learning.

I stood up from my seat, picking up my mask off the coffee table. “I’m taking a shower,” I declared, before turning to Dennis. “How long before we reach the Enclave on Serenno?”

He shrugged. “Eighteen hours or so. Make yourself comfortable.”

I nodded, turning and marching out.

As soon as I did, a clan Wren warrior stepped aside in the hallway, nodding with a polite “Ma’am.”

I nodded back. The need for secrecy surpassed the desire for comfort, and the Vista was currently the temporary home of roughly twenty-seven Mandalorian warriors, one Jedi, three parahumans and one Rugess.

The shower, being the only one on the ship, was a fairly hot commodity.

Sakur Wren and Tytos Wren were currently dueling to first blood for the next use in the cargo bay.

Me and Vicky however had the advantage of knowing the captain. So we had designated windows to use said shower.

Needless to say, if we missed our hour… duels to first blood were remarkably common methods for settling disputes.

But I wasn’t going to miss my half hour. I needed this. Not just to feel clean but because Dennis had gone through the trouble of actually mounting a fully functioning shower with water on the ship. He, like me, Miss Militia, Vicky, and Alexandria, was a man of culture who turned his nose up at sonic showers.

Granted, I was not sure exactly how much he had to burn through cash to install the water tank and refill it, but it was the one maintenance cost he didn’t bitch about on the ship.

Ever.

Smart of him.

The halls were still clogged with Mandos, and it took me longer than I’d have liked to negotiate my way through all of them. They were playing cards, checking the fresh blaster scars on their armor, and refitting and disassembling weapons. I envied Vicky’s ability to just fly gingerly over everyone’s heads in that moment.

There weren’t enough rooms to go around, so the highest ranked members of this team got the rooms; four of them for two rooms. Me and Vicky were bunking together, too. Seemed to be rather poor taste for each of us to get a room when over twenty plus Mandos were sleeping on mats and cots in the freaking cargo bay.

Still, eventually I did make it to our designated room. Reaching over, I pulled my clothes from the drawer with the Force, placing them under my arm and quickly rushing towards the ship’s only bathroom.

The shower was absolute bliss. Grime and sweat came off me and I took the opportunity to fully wash my hair from the smoky remains of blaster discharge.

The Mandos weren’t quite so rude as to bang on the door when my time was up, but as I noted some checking their chronos, worried that I’d hog all the time/hot water, I quickened my pace, finishing sooner than I’d like before I dried, changed my clothes and stepped out, freeing up the space for the next two designated users who’d won their duels to enjoy. Vicky’s turn came up after they were done.

As I made my way over towards our room, I felt Vicky’s Force presence in the tiny little cubicle that was ‘our’ space for this trip. I was only somewhat surprised, but not really. I’d simply figured Vicky would still be with Adi, or Dennis… or letting the Mandos challenge her to an arm wrestling contest again. You think they’d learn.

Opening the door, I found Vicky sitting on the small chair in front of the equally small desk. Her feet were on the desk and she was leaning all the way back in said chair. If she couldn’t fly…

She smiled.

“Hey there, Ms. Grumpykins.”

I frowned. “Grumpykins?”

She snorted. “Come on, Tay, if you were glaring any harder at Adi I’m pretty sure she’d have gotten third degree burns on her face.”

My features scrunched up. “Was I that obvious?”

My poker face always suffered in space, where my swarm was always vastly reduced and I didn’t have enough of them to completely shunt away my reactions.

Vicky stared at me pointedly.

I rolled my eyes.

“Why were you so mad at her?” she asked.

“You know why,” I said, stepping further into the room to stuff my old clothes into a spare bag that would be chucked into the nearest laundry chute wherever we ended up, immediately.

“I mean… she screwed up, yeah,” Vicky hedged, “but… I don’t know, it just seems like you’re madder than I thought you’d be.”

I finished stuffing the old clothes in the bag, zipping it up as I took a deep breath.

“It’s not just her,” I said.

Vicky nodded. “It’s just that she’s here.”

“Sort of,” I answered with a shrug, standing up before walking over to the bed and flopping down on it. It was a small bed, not exactly the most comfortable thing to share, but I was hardly going to kick Victoria to the floor, nor would she do the same to me. “It’s just… this blindness,” I bit out. “This… willful blindness.” My eyes trailed up to the ceiling. “The more I see it, the more… annoyed I get.”

Vicky said nothing for a moment and when she spoke, her voice was gentle. “Is it… Because, well, because it reminds you of you? Your situation back at Winslow?”

She hesitated, just a bit, knowing it was a sore subject. I’d told Vicky about Winslow, Madison, Sophia and Emma… a little less than a year ago. When Vicky had talked to me about her trigger event; it seemed… like I should. I hadn’t cried. It felt just too small to make me cry anymore. But she had.

I frowned at the question. “I-” I paused, the tepid denial dying on my lips. “I don’t know… maybe.”

The teachers in Winslow had been just as wilfully blind. The heroes moreso. Not seeing people suffering because it just didn’t fit in their plans.

Was this the same?

Not exactly, but maybe it was close enough that it was setting my teeth on edge regardless.

I shook my head. “The Jedi are blind,” I said.

“They’re trying their best,” she argued.

I nodded, conceding that point. “They are,” I would give them that. They genuinely did try their best, which was already a massive step up from home. “But-”

But they were still so blind they didn’t even realize the extent of their own failings.

“But?” Vicky urged.

I didn’t answer her. Not immediately.

What was the answer? What needed to happen?

I took a deep breath. “To believe in something, to trust in an ideal, you have to be willing to challenge it. To question it, even rail against it. Blind belief isn’t trust, it’s ignorance,” I said.

Vicky raised an eyebrow. “You lost me.”

I sighed. “They put… everything on the Jedi Code, Vicky. Everything. And you and I both know the Code isn’t enough. Not when you step outside the cloister and come down from the ivory tower.”

Her head moved in pseudo agreement. “Ehhh, you’re not wrong, but when you say challenge beliefs…?”

“I mean that-” I felt a muscle in my jaw work. “We need to push them. Or at least I want to push them? You know? New ideas, new outlooks. Just look at this situation with Tachi. They just assumed that the Jedi Code would be enough. You saw her!”

Vicky cringed. Of the two of us, she was the greater empath, both in personality and in the Force. I likely didn’t need to remind her about the absolute and complete unraveling we’d sensed of Tachi’s mental shields and fraying composure in that room.

An alarm went off, Vicky’s eyes darting down to the small little wristband around her left wrist.

“One sec, hold that thought. We’ll pick this up when I get back.”

I nodded as she reached for her clothes and various, various, bottles of soaps and shampoos. How exactly she found the way to use all of those in the very limited time frame we had in said shower I wasn’t sure but, ohhh, I’m sure she managed.

As she left I laid there in the bed, the gears in my head turning bit by bit as I remained still and quiet, blocking out the world beyond this room.

Eventually, the door opened and Vicky stepped in, freshly showered and changed.

She sighed, like me, securing her dirty clothes in a separate bag before she flopped down on the bed beside me.

Like I said, it was a tight fit, and my arm was slightly pinned underneath Vicky’s own body, wiggling a bit. I pulled it free, laying on my side facing her to make the most of the limited space.

She turned to look at me, an expression somewhere between a fond smile and a smirk gracing her face before she reached up and poked me in the forehead. “I know that look. That’s the thinking look. The ‘I gotz an idea look.’”

I could almost see the misspelling in her accent.

“When we get back-” I said. “I’m going to ask the Jedi council to make me a Creche Master.”

Vicky’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline. “Really!? Like… I know you’re good with the kids, and they love you, Tay, but like… Creche Master’s a big deal!” She reminded me. “It’s like, what, a five year term?”

I nodded. “Yes. But… we can’t just go chipping away at this… blind adherence bit by bit through the High Council Masters and wait for it to trickle down. Only for them to die and get replaced by people who are still in the wrong mindset.”

I saw her own mind whirling, the pieces coming together as her eyes widened.

“You want to get to them before they’ve drunk too much of the Jedi Kool-Aid?” she said, a dawning realization creeping into her voice.

A crude way to put it, but…

“Essentially,” I said. “Teach them to question, to think for themselves and judge right from wrong outside of the Code,” I nodded to myself. “Eventually, if I stick to it long enough, new ways of thinking, not blind obedience, will rise through the ranks.”

It would still be slow, but it would be a damn sight more efficient and permanent than just arguing with individual High Council members.

Vicky let out a slow breath, like air escaping a balloon. “I can’t imagine you’re gonna make many friends… anywhere! Once there’s a little tyke rebellion on their hands coming from your Creche,” she winced. “Like… shit, Jedi don’t hate, but some of them really, really, really don’t like you as it is.”

I shrugged.

“I’ve got you.”

The words slipped out without thinking and they were, for me at least, an absolute truth.

And I almost immediately knew I’d made a terrible error in judgment.

Vicky’s mouth opened into a surprised ‘O’, then her features softened, eyes juuuust glimmering a tiny bit.

“I- that came out wrong?” I tried.

“Ohhhhh!” Vicky gushed, one arm slipping underneath me and the other finishing the hold in a hug. “Come here, you big softie!”

She pulled me close, my entire body sliding across the bed as I felt my spine crack just a bit. “Vicky!” I breathed out something that may have been a laugh. “Let me go!”

Face buried in my neck and shoulder, she shook her head with a happy negative sound- cheek brushing against mine. “This is a hug moment!” she declared proudly.

“You’re such an idiot.” Again, the sound that clawed its way out from between my teeth may have been a laugh, just as easily as it could have been the air being squeezed out of my lungs.