The Weaving Force: Chapter 49 (Patreon)

Chapter 49:

Vicky:

“Huh?”

Vicky wasn’t often caught off guard, despite the somewhat exaggerated persona of a carefree ditz. She was an observant and surprisingly shrewd person when she chose to be. She knew the people around her, and when she didn’t she watched them very carefully until she did.

But right now, in spite of all the years they’d known each other, in spite of their rather close friendship with him, she stared at Yoda as though the tiny green Master had just sprouted a second head, the slice of fruit halfway to her mouth slipping from her fingers to fall to the grassy dirt at her feet.

Yoda’s impish smile remained, amused… but still sincere.

“Ok, ha ha, I get it,” she said as her brain caught up, sucking a bit of fruit juice off her thumb. “Funny, Green-Bean.”

“Serious I was being,” Said Green-Bean answered.

“I- No,” she shook her head. “Uh-uh. I mean, come on – half your Council is having conniption fits with Tay as a Crechemaster, and you’re seriously telling me to take on a Padawan?” she laughed again, the sound emerging forced and strained. “Tay’s the responsible one here!” She was half lying, they both knew it. “She’s the one that makes sure those kids do their homework and become productive citizens. I take em out for ice cream and play hookie! Like… what?”

“And offer them hugs when crying they are,” he nodded. “Defend them from bullies and callous words you do. Always.”

Looks like he wasn’t gonna let her play the irresponsible ‘get out of jail free’-card.

Vicky glared, stuffing the remains of the Kawa fruit into her mouth; she could use the chewing time to think.

“You seriously want to rock the boat on this?” she pushed. “Now? Freaking Tiin’s gonna blow a gasket to the point his horns are gonna pop off.”

“Ready for this, you are,” he insisted, utterly ignoring her very good point. Ass.

“No, I’m not!” she said. “Green… Look, taking on a Padawan is basically adopting a kid, and I’m not ready for that! I mean, yeah… my thirties are sneaking up on me like a determined, inescapable serial killer, but like… I’m not ready to be completely responsible for someone else, turning them into a good person! That’s…” she felt queasy. “That’s fucking terrifying. I haven’t even talked about this possibility with Taylor and I should do that for a big decision like this-” and she should really shut up now. Shouldn’t she shut up now? She should shut up now. ”I really should. You know. Cause she’s my best friend and the responsible one. No other reason.” SHUT UP NOW, PLEASE!

Yoda reached up, grasping at her hand, and tugging her towards the nearby bench.

Little Green hopped up onto the stone bench, patting the seat beside him and Vicky allowed herself to sort of plop down into it.

They lingered in silence.

“Look, if this is about convincing the other Masters on the Council Tay’s good for the job, I-”

“Not about Knight Hebert this is,” Yoda shook his head. “About you. Ready you are. Good you will be to a Padawan. Sense it, I do,” he nodded firmly, smiling in that way that wasn’t the impish prankster she plotted with. Or the smug know-it-all that dangled answers out of reach, or even the indulgent grandpa watching someone making a complete ass of themselves for his amusement.

It was the smile that he promised that everything would be alright.

“Tied yourself, your actions and your wishes, to Knight Hebert you have,” Yoda said and Vicky felt her heart stutter in its steady beat.

Was he saying…

“Helped her in achieving her goals, your efforts have been,” he continued, easing the bit of worry. “A goal of your own, you must now have. Your own growth, seen to. The next step, this is. Natural, this is,” he nodded, with complete and absolute surety.

Vicky opened her mouth, closed it, then sighed, groaning as she rubbed at her forehead, hoping the headache would go away. “I don’t know,” she answered. “I… I don’t feel ready. If the Force is supposed to whisper in my ear to go to the creche. The creepy stalker/santa mix is finally respecting the restraining order- Ow!”

The wack from the stick was reflex, familiar and comforting. Even as she rubbed her arm from the impact she smiled; he did too.

The stick returned to its place on his lap, his hand still gripping it, though.

“Visit the creches you should,” he nodded. “An answer, today you may not find. Nor tomorrow. But ready for a Padawan, this I know you to be.”

Vicky opened her mouth, ready to protest more when she decided against it, her mouth clicking shut and shoulders slumping. “I… I’ll think about it?” she offered. He seemed so sure. It made her feel bad to break his heart.

Her answer seemed to satisfy him, a happy nod and an affirming sound escaping from his throat.

“Ow,” she rubbed suddenly at the back of her hand. “What was that one for?” she protested.

“Offer me Kawa fruit, you did not.”

“You’re allergic, you little troll!”

“Gotten a different fruit you should have, then.”

(X)(X)(X)

Taylor:

I felt my eyebrow twitch.

I stood perfectly still a book halfway slotted into its place in my quaint little bookshelf/library in my office/classroom.

Books with paper. Not dataslates.

Because books felt better than dataslates.

The scent of them was much more relaxing too.

“Ummm… are you alright, Taylor?” A hesitant voice called behind me.

“I’m fine, Siri,” I answered immediately, only half lying.

“Umm… well… is there a reason then you’ve been standing still for the last few minutes?”

Because listening to Vicky and Yoda is a fast way to increase stress levels.

Honestly… it wasn’t necessarily that I was afraid of what would happen if the Jedi discovered  that Vicky and I were romantically involved. But I’m fairly sure that if they did discover it at this particular juncture, well… that would be the final coffin nail on any hope of my being a Crechemaster. Hell, they might expel the two of us altogether.

It wasn’t the end of the world… but there was a lot that I’d miss here. A lot of people that I’d miss here.

So Vicky almost giving the game away did indeed cause me to have something of a mini coronary.

Even if I was a bit touched that Vicky wanted to discuss this… thing with me before she made that decision.

It wasn’t quite a 1-1 as full on adopting a child… but the fact that Vicky saw it that way and wanted to talk with me about it… well… it meant a lot.

Even so, hearing Vicky and Yoda fall back into easier banter, I allowed the tension in my shoulders to uncoil, my body sagging with something very close to relief as I turned finding Siri lingering behind her with wide, curious and slightly concerned eyes.

It was odd, having an assistant that was older than me, but Siri had been in a bad place after her recovery from her mission. Jumping at shadows, not trusting herself around her fellow Jedi, night terrors; flashbacks. I’d seen all of it through my bugs.

It was difficult to ignore… and far too familiar..

The Jedi healers helped. They saw to Siri’s every need, talked her through her experiences, but after a point Siri had hit something of a wall.

The healers knew that their patient needed distractions, work, a way to stop thinking about the nightmare and to do something productive.

I’m sure others would have volunteered if they’d been asked.

I just… volunteered first. Before the question had even been asked.

Some were hesitant to leave her with me, but I spoke with Gallia and Gallia had spoken to them.

The rest was history.

Siri had jumped at the chance for work, any work. Any distraction

The kids were good for her. As good as they’d been for me.

She’d been in the creche ever since

I took a breath, stepping forward as I held out my hand for the dataslate held in Siri’s arms. “I assume that’s the class’ test scores?”

Siri perked up “Oh, yes. They just came in,” the blonde said with a soft smile, more sure and firmly in place in comparison to the brittle, fearful thing it had been just a few years ago.

A whipped and beaten animal, learning to be human again.

It was uncomfortable, admitting just how familiar that was.

I plucked the report from Siri’s hands, opening my mouth to speak before something else caught my attention – a small, innocuous thing rapidly escalating.

“Shit,” I cursed.

Siri blinked, confused, before startling as I rushed past her, her hands scrambling to catch the dataslate I shoved into her chest in my rush. I’d have to apologize in a second.

I didn’t keep “nasty” bugs in the creche. Too many kids were scared of them. I kept myself limited to this galaxy’s versions of little gnats, mosquitos and the occasional butterfly when I wanted kids to know I was looking for them. The butterflies were flapping their hardest to get there but they were too slow, as was I.

Siri seemed to realize the nature of the emergency as she power walked behind me.

I managed to walk into the communal creche area just in time to see with my own two eyes the absolutely savage punch that sent an Aqualish boy’s head whipping back, his body sagging like a puppet with its strings cut as he slumped to the side, knocked the fuck out.

His friend, a Togruta boy, already knocking on thirteen looked startled, confused and just a bit scared before predator instincts took over and he rushed his slightly larger opponent.

A split second later, I had a brawl beginning to form in the middle of the creche common area.

I grit my teeth as other Crechemasters heard the commotion and began to rush through the crowds of younglings to get there.

I was closer, and I’d already been here to start with, so I got there first.

I stepped forward, and plenty of kids scrambled to get out of the way and those that didn’t, or hadn’t noticed me, I brushed aside as gently but as quickly as I could to reach the two.

I made it and with telekinesis as thin as a knife I sliced between the two kids, the “knife” expanding, shoving them apart and then exploding into strings and chains, binding their limbs and yanking them both away and into the air, arms and legs spread wide.

The two were still struggling, barely even noting the change in their frenzy to get to one another

“Enough!”

My voice carried the suggestion through the Force, and it was enough to make both younglings look at me, startled and wide eyed, finally realizing I was there.

“Master Hebert-”

“What is the meaning of this!?”

Masters Beq and Zallian emerged from the crowd, taking in the scene. Fights weren’t common in the creche but kids were still kids, and even though most knew damn well that I was always watching, things did happen.

Beq looked at me expectantly, knowing I’d give them the truth in a moment. Zallian, a Bothan, was not exactly a fan of mine, falling firmly into the camp of those who thought I never should have been trusted with a creche at all. She was tall for her species and she used that height now to stare down her nose at me as her large feline eyes beheld the Togruta boy I recognized as Taleen, and then towards my youngling.

Iskt.

The Trandoshan boy’s lip curled in a spectacularly vicious looking sneer, fanged maw hissing with spittle. He looked damn ready to keep fighting, even with three Crechemasters now between him and his would-be opponent.

“He started it!” Taleen said.

Another child stood up from the crowd. “I saw Iskt throw the first punch. He hit Gorcho.”

Right, Gorcho. I turned, finding Siri trying to coax the dazed and very badly bruised Aqualish youngling back to consciousness.

Iskt had hit him hard.

“Honestly, the child can hardly be blamed considering who is teaching him,” Zallian sniped, crossing her arms as she glared.

“Master Zallian, please,” Beq, pleaded. “Master Taylor, did you see what occurred?”

I turned my eyes towards Taleen, raising an eyebrow. “Would you like to tell them, or should I?” I asked the boy.

The Togruta froze, and not because of the hold I still had on him, staring up at me before his demeanor shifted, defiant. “The lizard went crazy!”

“Taleen!” Beq reprimanded immediately. “You will not refer to your fellow crecheling by such a name.”

“Oh, he’s said worse,” I commented. “You sure you’d rather I say it?” I offered the way out one more time.

“Regardless of what they said, it doesn't merit this level of violence!” Zallian dismissed.

I took a breath. “Does ‘the worm-head should go back to the slave market where she belongs’ ring a bell, Taleen?”

Now the Togruta boy went white, his purple skin draining of its color.

Beq’s features grew stony and stern, and even Zallian turned her burning eyes away from Iskt and towards the Togruta, eyes narrowing.

Taleen was one of Beq’s crechelings; Beq was one of the best at his job in my opinion, but kids picked up things and I could only guess where this had come from. The callous words of a Padawan assisting in the creche? A knight he admired? A holonet show? Some commentator or influencer the boy was reading or listening to?

Regardless, I trusted Beq to not let this kind of thing stand.

I looked at the man. “I’ll deal with mine and you straighten out yours?”

Beq offered a nod, the muscle in his jaw tense and bunched.

Zallian eyed both students, shaking her head. Likely, she blamed me in some way for this, regardless. Taleen had been older than most recruits when he arrived, aged eight rather than the Jedi’s more ‘comfortable’ age of six or younger.

I reached over, grabbing at Iskt’s shoulder and holding firmly as I felt the boy try to yank free of my grip, staring at his feet.

Leading him by the strength of my hold I looked at Siri, “Can you take Gorcho to the healers, Siri?”

She nodded. “Of course, Master Taylor.”

I nodded, offering a brushing feeling of gratitude through the Force before I kept walking, Iskt following at my side.

We reached the classroom. The door hissing shut behind me before I locked it.

I finally let Iskt go, the Trandoshan boy standing still at my side as I crossed my arms.

In truth, I was conflicted on how to handle this.

I remembered my own time at Winslow, how I *hated* being the one on the receiving end of punishment when I knew I was in the right. How the teachers focused on what I did or didn’t do, rather than what was done to me.

And this wasn’t even to him. It was about Karla, who was even now sniffling in the nearby bathroom, having walked away as I realized something was wrong. She hadn’t even seen the punch.

He was getting in trouble for defending his friend.

It wasn’t the first time I was in this position, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. But every time, I always felt a little wretched, a little more like Winslow when I had to be the one to mete out punishment like he was in the wrong.

I sighed, the breath huffing out of me as my shoulders sagged, kneeling to be at eye level with the boy that would soon outgrow damn near everyone in the building. Trandoshans could be monstrously tall and Iskt wasn’t exactly looking like the runt of the proverbial litter.

“Why didn’t you come to me?” I asked.

I never tolerated things like this. My kids knew it. I made damn sure they knew it. Why?

Iskt looked away.

“Look at me,” I demanded sternly.

He did, yellow reptilian eyes shining with emotion. Trandoshans couldn’t shed tears, but damn if I couldn’t see them anyway.

“I got mad,” he said, his voice catching, hiccuping.

I felt it then, the brush of shame. Not mine. His.

I understood immediately where it came from. I knew the rumors. The stereotypes of his species, and others like him. Cathar, Tchuukthai, even Togruta. All predator species people thought to be incapable of being Jedi by default.

Iskt had tried very hard to not be that. To be better than those people thought of him. To not sink to that level. Their level.

That was familiar too.

And in a split second he’d gotten so angry…

I took a deep, slow breath through my nostrils, my heart softening, “You could have come to me,” I repeated.

The trills of his subvocals told me how distraught he really was as his whole body shook and trembled, arms stiff at his side even as he met my eyes.

It was dichotomous. He was ashamed, but he wasn’t sorry for what he’d done. Not one bit.(X)(X)(X)I love Yoda and Vicky. Writing them is always a joy :)