Interlude: Year 4 (Patreon)

Interlude: Year 4

Hannah:

Over half a decade of marriage had allowed Hannah to know her husband’s shifts in moods, subtle as they could be sometimes.

Aras was always reserved, almost cautious in what he allowed himself to reveal, what he allowed himself to feel. As though he was afraid of his own reactions.

So when he got angry, he got quiet. Not once in all their years of marriage had she ever heard him raise his voice in anger outside of a physical fight, in either combat or the sparring ring. She’d never seen his face do more than frown with a stony, eerie stillness that most took for stoic apathy. But the signs were there, if you knew him like she did.

The comment had been little more than an observation, a little factoid that Victoria had told them as she was sitting across from Jen on their living room floor, her little girl having roped Vicky into a session of playing doctor with a stethoscope, and an adorably serious face, as Jen tried to diagnose why Vicky ‘couldn’t fly anymore’.

It was adorable, and in spite of how loud Vicky had been when she screamed out a very shrill ‘OOOOWWWW’ that made her, Jen and Shmi nearly jump out of their skin the instant the play doctor’s instrument touched her chest. Jennifer’s answer, with an angry scowl and stomping of her foot saying “It’s not a needle!”, had made Hannah burst out in loud, startled laughter.

“Oh, I’m sorry, my mistake,” Vicky had answered with a cheeky grin, mischief dancing in her eyes.

Aras had wandered in, followed by Daryan who was seemingly always at his father’s side these days.

That’s when the comment had come.

“You know…” Vicky had said. “I can kinda sense it in both of them. I wonder if it’s because they’re twins. I’ve heard it’s rare for both kids to be sensitive to it.”

Hannah had been curious about what exactly Vicky was talking about before it clicked. The Force. That power that she and Taylor had learned to tap into since coming here.She shrugged. She didn’t know nearly enough about how the Force worked to know one way or the other.

Turning to Aras to ask him, she felt the words literally die on her tongue.

A dark look came over Aras’ face, something she’d never seen directed at anyone, let alone one of their friends. His fist was clenched outside of Vicky’s view; he was furious.

With a visible strain, her husband turned away and marched off. As Daryan turned to follow his father, Aras placed a hand over his head. “Stay with your mother, boy.” He rumbled. “She’s missed you.”

It was true, she had, but it was the first time she could remember Aras ever turning either of her children away and the spike of worry cut through her even as her boy happily announced an “Okay!”, and turned right around to sit on her lap.

Vicky stayed for a while longer, until Taylor returned with Dennis and Rugess. They stayed with them longer still, but eventually everyone left her home and she asked Shmi, good, kind Shmi who she really needed to give a raise for everything she did, to get the kids ready for dinner.

Then she went to find her husband.

Reaching his armory (nominally their armory, but beyond armor it was kind of pointless in her case), she knocked on the door.

“It is open,” she barely heard him, but the fact that it was unlocked gave her immeasurable relief. If he had locked it, knowing him it would have been a statement and that would have scared her.

She opened the door, the steel barrier sliding into the wall.

Aras sat on a bench, his beskar knife and specialized sharpening tools sitting beside him. His hands were clasped in front of him, fingers clenched together.

“What’s wrong?”

“It is nothing,” he answered. “Dallon meant nothing by it,” he said, and that relieved her too.

“But you were still bothered by it,” she pressed; stepping inside and shutting the door behind her.

She sat next to him, her hand reaching out to place itself over his, feeling the tension bleed out of his forearm and hand as his large fingers wrapped around hers.

He stayed silent for a moment. Then-

“Jedi steal children.”

A coldness settled in the pit of her stomach, followed immediately by burning, incandescent rage. The knife at her side transformed rapidly into a myriad selection of weapons, each more deadly than the last before she got control of herself.

“...Vicky would nev-”

“I know,” he interrupted, his voice soft. “As I said… she meant nothing by it. You trust her. I’ve grown to trust her. But her Order…” he snorted.

“You’ve fought beside them.” It was almost a question slipping from her lips. “You said you respect them-”

“Respect and trust are different things,” he answered, and it was true. “They are our children. And I would never see them taken to be raised as child soldiers. Not like us.”

No. Not like them. If Jen or Daryan ever wanted to be soldiers that would be their choice. Not something they’d be raised into.

Still…

“You’re… sure they steal children?” she asked, because she had to. She could never imagine Vicky or even Taylor, villain though she may have been once, taking children. She knew both girls well enough to know that they’d fight against people like that.

“They can manipulate minds and the children are never seen by their parents again.” That black, dark rage took hold of his expression again, deformed and twisted it. He would burn the whole of Coruscant to the ground if it came to Jen and Daryan… and she’d probably be right there next to him.

She had to admit, it did not paint a good picture.

She shook her head, fingers gripping his tight.

“They are our children,” he said after a moment. “Ours… I will not let them be taken because they supposedly can wield the Jedi’s Force. Let them find others to steal.”

It was callous but she agreed almost entirely, she realized.

Still.

“There… has to be more to it.” She shook her head. “Vicky and Taylor-”

“Likely do not know,” he acquiesced, interrupting her thought. “But even so… I will speak to them tomorrow, after I’ve calmed myself. Ask them to say nothing to the others of their Order.”

She nodded. “Obi-Wan and Anakin, too. We need to talk to them,” she answered immediately.

Then, a thought.

“The Enclave,” she said. “As far as I know, Alexandria and Satine finally pushed things through. Mandalore will be getting an enclave of its own soon.”

He nodded.

…

“I will speak with Captain Cadera,” he answered, a grumbling dislike in his voice. Not for the captain, but rather for using his influence in such a way. “Stress that the Enclave should be small, for security reasons.”

“And I’ll talk to Alexandria,” she followed his thinking. “Maybe get her to use her influence to appoint Obi-Wan as its head. We can trust him.”

Aras nodded, saying nothing else as he sat there, holding her hand.

(X)(X)(X)

Alexandria:

Sometimes, Alexandria wondered if the Enclave on Mandalore was truly a headache worth having.

The reasons for and against its opening were myriad; ultimately, she believed that it was better to have it than not, hence why she pushed and maneuvered for it.

But honestly, the scales were close in terms of that particular calculation.

Many on Mandalore detested the idea. Some championed it. Insisting that this would show the wider galaxy that the Mandalorian people were well and truly past their war like nature.

On the galactic politics stage it was an important piece, not just to deter the Hutts, but also because she had a feeling about Palpatine. The man was a dangerous politician, hiding behind the veneer of a kindly old man. She’d never met someone so difficult to read, to pin down, but she knew he had his own designs on the Jedi, that much he couldn’t hide. Keeping a small pocket of them here, away from his vast reach could only be to her advantage.

The fiasco with the clones last year, clones now serving as a private military for the Jedi cemented that decision. Palpatine could have done anything with those clones. Set them up as a security force for the Core Worlds, had them patrol heavily pirate infested sectors, or strong armed some of the worlds that were part of the ‘Railroad’ with Mandalore into peeling back their clandestine support.

But instead, he gave them to the Jedi. A Jedi Order that was so eager to make amends for the crimes of Sifo-Dyas that they were now practically subservient to him and the Senate without question, even more than before.

Their expansion efforts, so recently taken up with their enclaves, died immediately after the debacle. The already established enclaves still stood… for now. But no others had been declared.

The Enclave that Yoda himself had suggested for Mandalore had been slow-walked for years. And it was only through considerable leverage being applied that she’d finally, finally gotten the Jedi to agree to one more enclave, an expansion that she needed to find a way to pass through the various roadblocks set up in the interim by Palpatine in the Republic bureaucracy while no one was looking.

The man had plans. She just wasn’t sure what they were. Palpatine may have twisted things to get an outcome he wanted out of the whole clone army debacle, but that didn’t mean she had to let him run roughshod with the victory.

So, she’d done it. Twisted, bent, broke and threatened into getting her way. Settling matters in and out of Mandalore to make it happen. An enclave would be built on this world.

And then, finally, when all was said and done, and all that needed to be finalized was who would lead this Enclave, Hannah had come to her, asking her to see if she could get Obi-Wan to lead the Enclave here.

Her fears were… unfounded. Mostly. Certainly she knew that most Jedi simply asked and accepted an answer; but after hearing and reading about Anakin’s own recruitment into the Order, she could extrapolate that many Jedi were certainly not above taking advantage of a situation to simply take what they wanted and call it ‘consent’. Such as asking a slave woman if she wanted her child rescued from slavery, rather than offering to liberate them both.

She doubted a Jedi mind trick could really get a mother or father to give up their child willingly, that order was simply far too high of an ask for most mind tricks, but she could very easily see how such rumors could start and take root.

But still, that wouldn’t put Hannah at ease. And she felt as though she owed her former Ward that much, some small peace of mind she could contribute beyond the distance she deliberately kept to avoid interfering in the life Hannah had built here.

A good life. With a good family.

So, if Obi-Wan was what Hannah asked of her, she felt obliged to at least try.

He was Yoda’s first choice, but politics, it seemed, were something even Jedi had to deal with.

“He is not a Master,” the Cerean, Ki-Adi-Mundi, replied. “We cannot simply hand the reins of an enclave to a Knight. Even one as accomplished as Kenobi. A Master is needed.”

“How long before he’s able to become a Master?” she asked, if only to satisfy her own curiosity. As far as she’d seen, Kenobi was a far better combatant than most Jedi that had passed through Mandalore in recent times. Smarter too. He was also approaching his thirties, hardly a boy anymore.

Master Gallia shook her head. “Even if we were to extend the offer to him now and he were to accept and undertake his trials, he would still be months away from the title. The Enclave is set to open in just two, is it not?”

It was, and it was already on shaky ground with the Jedi as it was. If she pushed for Kenobi to be the head of the Enclave and forced the issue, they would simply back out of the deal. Many wanted to make amends to the Senate for the debacle with Sifo-Dyas. Mundi, Koth, Gallia, Billaba, even Windu at the head of the Council. She couldn’t push her luck here.

“You’ve never taken an interest in who exactly would lead, Lady Alexandria,” Windu cut in, leaning back in his seat. “You were content with Obi-Wan there in an advisory role; what’s changed?”

She was grateful that they were on holo, it masked the minute tightening of the flesh around her mouth.

“The Mandalorian people, as you know, have issues with the Jedi. It might help ease tensions for the head of the Enclave to be a Jedi they’re already familiar with, someone they already respect.”

“They respect his ability to fight,” Master Piell snorted. “That is not the only thing a Jedi Master is.”

She didn’t care to debate the finer points of what constituted a leader in his Order. Frankly, their measurements were woefully disparate in terms of efficacy in her somewhat limited experience with the twelve arrayed before her.

She turned her head, her eyes finding Yoda sitting serenely in his chair, his eyes closed, ears twitching as though he was listening to something very far away.

Another one that was hard to read, if only because of his… fickle nature. The small alien seemed at times equal parts guided by his canny skill, his intelligence, or just simply saying something about the Force and playing at mysticism.

Half the time she wondered if it was just to amuse himself as everyone around him squirmed.

“Master Yoda,” she called. “Anything to add?”

“Hmmmm,” the little alien’s lips pursed, like he was sucking on a lemon, before his head bowed and he smiled. “No. An answer, the Force has sent. A suitable candidate, it has found.”

Again, she was grateful she was on holo, it helped mask the deep breath of sheer exasperation that slowly drew in through her nostrils.

“Does this ‘Force Answer’ have a name?” she asked.

The other Masters seemed curious as well, turning to Yoda with raised eyebrows and unsure glances.

“An introduction, you will have. When it is time,” he said, shifting to hop off his chair and start walking off with a cane she knew the little troll didn’t need. “Soon, I think.”

Holos were remarkably useful. It was easy to resist the temptation of picking the little green man up and shaking him until he gave straight answers when he was half a galaxy away.

“I’ll book an appointment for them then,” she answered drily before turning to the other Council members. “Councilors.”

Each offered her a nod. She cut the feed.

—

It would be about a week later that she’d get her ‘Force given’ answer.

A guard entered her office, her actual office, the one that wasn’t filled with listening devices from Merrik on one of the rare occasions where she was within it.

“Domeric,” she greeted him. It was useful, knowing everyone of her guards by name. It made them feel respected. Appreciated. “What can I do for you?”

“Vizier,” Domeric nodded. It wasn’t a title she’d come up with. She suspected Cook, making an off joke, had set that particular ball rolling and the Mandalorians assumed that actually was her title. She didn’t bother correcting them. Too much trouble.

Her guard saluted with fist over heart as Mandalorians did. “Someone’s here to see you, ma’am. A Jedi. She, ahh… said the Force guided her here.”

Alexandria raised an eyebrow. “Her name?”

“She says her name is Fay, ma’am. Jedi Master Fay.”(X)(X)(X)Bit early I know, but I *really* wanted to release interlude Year 2 to the general audience. I kinda felt bad about "hiding" that one, so ya'll get a chapter early :3Next chapter will be released next thursday and we'll be back to our previous thursday/friday release window.One thing; I'm not trying to bash the Jedi, I don't believe any of them threatened cajoled or *stole* children, especially in the modern age where their numbers are laughably low but I DO believe it would be very easy for the people of the Galaxy to spread rumors LIKE that, especially Mandalorians who have been their enemy and would actively WANT for Jedi to be denied recruits. Hence this belief. Its a mistaken belief to be sure, and Alex says as much, but it IS a believable one.Qui-Gon is still a fucking ass tho. So that part I do stand by :)

PS: As a reminder there IS a discord to discuss the Patreon chapters here:

https://discord.gg/e8WDsQfZ

And there IS a TV tropes page where if you have the time and willingness to contribute I would greatly appreciate it:https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Fanfic/TheWeavingForce