The Weaving Force: Chapter 56 (Patreon)

Chapter 56:

Taylor:

It was rare for the Jedi to move like a fire had been lit under their asses.

It was doubly rare for *many* Jedi to move like a fire had been lit under their asses.

But honestly, as Vicky had put it earlier, it was almost like half the temple had woken up this morning and realized that the big party was tomorrow and they had nothing to wear.

To be fair, I’d had a few hours head start, knowing that the Jedi Council was planning to send some Jedi to the Conclave early to obfuscate Windu and Yoda heading for Naboo as fast as they could.

But somewhere, some miscommunication happened, someone said something wrong, or let slip the secret, so now the whole Temple thought they were gonna be late or that they had to leave early for ‘politeness’.

And so now… we had this.

“So…” I rubbed at my temples, trying to stave off the headache as Siri smiled sheepishly at me. “Explain it to me… one more time.”

The collection of a dozen of my crechelings, covered head to toe in machine oil, stared back up at me, innocent as can be.

“Well…” Siri’s sheepish smile grew tiny bit, either in nervousness or amusement, I couldn’t tell. “The kids noticed a lot of the engineers running around trying to get all the ships ready, short notice and all. They decided they could help.”

“And so they collectively tried to Force Lift an oil tank across the hangar!?” I asked incredulously. The ‘Are you shitting me’ was very much unsaid, but very, very loud between us.

One of my girls, a blue skinned Nautolan with a collection of red ‘freckles’, for lack of a better term, around her eyes named Zai reached over, tugging at the hem of my cloak. I turned, rounding on the girl to look at her as she smiled at me with wide, guileless eyes.

“Teamwork makes the dream work!” she exclaimed happily. “Miss Vicky said that.”

…

Somehow, positive life lessons make one feel very irritated at certain moments…

“Thank you, Zai,” I bit out, trying, and probably failing, to keep the irritation out of my voice. I just knew someone was gonna pull my coat about the cleaning bill. And somehow, I was gonna get blamed for this.

“You know, Miss Taylor,” Zai said, pressing a finger to her chin. “You always tell us to help when people need something… though this time I don’t think it worked out too well,” she mused, looking down at her black robes. They used to be brown.

“Yes. Thank you, Zai!”

Someone shifted their weight.

Their boots squelched.

“Alright, everyone go… get cleaned up!”

“We can’t,” Zai chimed in, far too happy at her declaration.

“Why not!?” I didn’t shout. I didn’t. I had bugs to do that for me, two stories up where only one unfortunate person heard them - the woman practically jumped high enough to touch the ceiling - but otherwise, no harm done.

“Master Vagram told us to wait for, and I quote: ’The battalion of cleaning droids so you don’t track machine oil through the whole temple’,” Siri answered.

“We’re a slipping hazard!” Zai chirped. “It’s for safety!”

The other children nodded.

…

The high pitched squeal built up in volume and then fell away. Angelica slid by across the floor in front of me, either making a pitch for the world’s first mushroom friendly slip and slide, or screaming as only a very confused and concerned hug-bug could.

…

This was my life now.

“Oh! Watch out for-”

Someone slipped, going down in a tangle of robes and startled shouts as he tumbled, end over end down the stairs.

He was alive… probably.

—

After several (very long) minutes, we did eventually corral all the oil slick kids into their respective wash rooms to get them cleaned up. Luckily, their ‘help’ and its results had caused more amusement than genuine concern amongst the cadre of engineers and mechanics getting the ships ready for their speedy departure.

Likely because the fleet of Consular-class cruisers the Jedi sported were kept pretty much up to snuff at all times, since Jedi had to leave on missions *very* regularly, so this sudden rush to ready up so many ships was little more than refueling and diagnostic checks.

So, fortunately it was a ‘minor’ hiccup, and not a total disaster.

Though everyone was banned from the hangar until it was time to leave.

Speaking of-

“Are you all packed up?” I asked.

“Yes, Miss Taylor.”

The five little gremlins that I’d finally settled on to take with me to Corellia chorused.

Windu had said to pick the oldest of them, and it said quite a bit about the Jedi that only two of the five were older than ten.

Zai, my helpful Nautolan from this morning, was one of the passengers, just a month shy of ten. She tended to be… well… let’s say socially oblivious. It was endearing when it wasn’t driving you up the wall… or making you wonder if you were being low key toyed with.

Somehow, I knew she must be kept far away from Yoda.

Next was a human boy, Zaisk. Outer Rim kid, plucked out of a bad home life that still had a bit of a hold on him to a certain extent. Confrontations made him nervous. I genuinely believed he’d be happier in the Service Corps, rather than as a Jedi, and I think many of the Masters and Knights felt the same. He was kind, soft spoken, and the reason he wanted to be a Jedi was because “Jedi’s stop fights”.

On paper, an ideal.

But there was just that niggling feeling that aspects of this weren’t for him. A doctor, a scientist, I could absolutely see him doing that.

But it wasn’t my place to sabotage him either.

So this was my way of helping, a genuine solid push to find him a Master on Corellia.

Tenhu, a Fosh boy, with a frill of brightly colored feathers crowning his head. One of my most energetic crechelings. Though that may have been because of his race rather than him, per se. I wasn’t sure, there were no other Fosh Jedi to compare right now. But like a rooster on a farm, he woke up with the rising sun; more than once I’d been crawling out of bed only to find him already at the end of his morning rituals and heading to class.

Then there was Decimus, a Twi’lek boy, from Nar Shaddaa. The implications of his name didn’t bear thinking about. He’d come to the Jedi Order as a baby, so thankfully he didn’t remember any of his situation, and the Master that had plucked him from Nar Shaddaa had long since died. If he knew any particulars, he didn’t write them down.

And finally, the oldest of my crecheling entourage.

Iskt nodded, reptilian eyes staring up at me. “Yes, Miss Taylor,” he answered, little after the others. Still hesitant, still ashamed of himself.

I wasn’t going to say that was a good thing, but it did speak well of him.

I’d kept his punishment light, because out of everyone involved, he was the only one that had justification for his actions, even if his actions had been dangerous given his species' natural physical strength.

I’d had him give me an essay of all the ways his attack could have gone very, very wrong, the damage he could have done, and read through Master Balai’s report on just how badly his punch had hurt Gorcho. The Aqualish boy had been in the medbay almost two days, even with Force healing.

Karla had needed to apologize to Taleen, and write up a small essay on how what she said would have made her feel if someone said it to her.

I wasn’t sure what punishment Beq had given to Taleen, but I trusted him enough to decide well.

I patted the boy on the head, nodding “Good. Everyone head with Siri towards the ship.” I demanded. “We’re in hangar bay six, section seven.”

(X)(X)(X)

Vicky:

Watching the Jedi temple get, almost literally, turned upside down by panicking Jedi was funny and all- but Vicky had a much more… pressing concern right now.

Ever since Taylor had told her about what the Jedi council was planning she’d been… uneasy. A feeling gnawing at her insides that something wasn’t right.

She flew as quickly as she could, clear across to the other side of the temple from where Tay and most of the Jedi were leaving from, to the hangars reserved for Masters.

She found her target talking quietly amidst a circle of his fellows.

“Green-bean!” She hollered, smiling.

Yoda didn’t seem to mind, but there were more than a few frowns and disapproving glares thrown her way from several Jedi, some she knew and some she didn’t.

Yoda smiled back at her though, so screw the haters.

One of the Jedi that glared at her turned, arms crossed as he stared down at Master Yoda where the smaller master sat on his hoverchair.

“This is unnecessary. For both of you to go to Corellia shows too much deference towards the Green Jedi. They are an offshoot, beholden to Corellia more than the Jedi code or even the Force itself. The Grand Master and Master of the Order arriving as though they are… houseguests kowtowing towards their hosts. It is beneath you both.”

“This is not a debate C’baoth.” Windu answered, glowering at the older man who glared back. “Master Yoda and I will head towards Corellia and meet with Master Cerulian and the Green Jedi council as befits their station.”

“To the detriment of your own.” The old man sniffed. “Very well. If you will not be deterred and cannot be convinced to give your station the respect it deserves I suppose I am done here.”

The man turned, eyes following after him.

“Perhaps I should speak with him after he’s calmed.” Master Trebor volunteered.”

“No.” Yoda shook his head. “Aid our objectives, such disagreements do. Obfuscation, our weapon, it must be made now.”

Master Galia turned a rather pointed stare Vicky’s way, apparently trying to determine the polite way to tell Yoda he was spilling the beans all over the place.

Vicky smiled and waved at the woman.

Yoda shrugged “Know already, Knight Dallon does.”

Vicky got the sentiment that more than a few hands would have been thrown up at that if some of the Jedi Masters had less control of themselves.

“Enough-” Mace sighed, rubbing at his forehead. “The miscommunication that the entire temple will be leaving ahead of schedule is already causing enough issues as it is.” He told the other Masters. “Everyone go, begin actually preparing for your departure. This is not a social gathering of younglings, we have work to do.”

Several of the Masters, chastised lightly bowed and began walking away, each moving towards their designated jobs. As far as Vicky (Tay) had heard, nearly fifty Consular class cruisers were being prepared to transport… frankly a very large number of Jedi towards Corellia.

The Consular class cruisers were the staple and mainstay of the Jedi order’s diplomatic transportation across the galaxy. They typically needed nine crew to service and navigate the ship properly, but the Jedi had enough funds to commit those functions mostly with droids and nearly every Jedi knew how to pilot the vessels to some degree or another.

So with room for sixteen passengers and nine crew, replace the nine crew with droids or other Jedi and you were looking at a guest list of nearly twenty-five Jedi per-ship. At fifty ships, even if they weren’t all packed to capacity it was likely anywhere from seven hundred to a solid thousand Jedi would be heading for Corellia.

And that didn’t count the disparate Masters, Knights, Padawans, Shadows or any others that would be heading for Corellia for the big get together from other parts of the galaxy.

If thanksgiving family reunions were anything to go by then even though Jedi were known for peace and love Vicky wouldn’t be surprised if the Galaxy was down one less Corellia before someone could ask to pass the proverbial gravy.

Despite the amusing mental image of someone launching a bowl of gravy and kicking off another Jedi Civil war, Vicky couldn’t find it in herself to smile, she stared at Yoda and the old green Master turned to her with kindly eyes.

“Something troubles you.” He bobbed his head, urging her to speak.

Mace watched on, quietly observing the interaction and not commenting.

“I-” She hesitated, letting out a breath. “I’ve got… I’ve got a really bad feeling about all of this.” She said, her gaze switching from Mace to Yoda. “Both of you.” She clarified. “I don’t know what the hell’s going on in Naboo but… christ just don’t go or tell Anakin to haul ass back here.”

Yoda and Mace both turned, sharing a look and Vicky recognized the conversation happening there.

“You know.” She realized.

Yoda’s eyes closed. “Always in motion, the future is.”

“That doesn’t mean rush headfirst into bullshit!” She countered, crossing her arms as she glared at both of them.

Mace tried. “Its not that simple-”

“It is!” She interrupted. “Something’s wrong, you know what it is and-”

It was Mace’s turn to interrupt her however, cutting her off with a firm bark. “No. We don’t.”

Tension settled between the three of them and the Harrun Master sighed as he rubbed at his forehead. “Knight Dallon. You have a feeling. A warning in the Force you’ve been feeling since when?”

“Yesterday. What does that-”

“Master Yoda and I have had such a feeling for weeks.” He answered, folding his hands into the sleeves of his robe.

Vicky balked. “Weeks!?”

“Growing steadily it has.” Yoda said. “Building. Mounting. Pressure behind a great dam.”

“We don’t know what it is.” Mace said again. “It could be, as you suspect- that there is a trap on Naboo, as there was on station 13611 all those years ago. It could be that the trap lies in fearing Naboo and not heading there now that the Sith has misstepped, losing a duel to young Skywalker.”

“The other Jedi. The other Masters do not know.” Yoda cut in. “Even we- skilled as we are, impossible to divine the future it has been.” He shook his small head.

“Our ability to see through the force is compromised.” Windu answered. “Wether the Sith is actively hampering it or… we have simply grown weaker and complacent in our previous capabilities- “And didn’t that sound painful for him to admit. “- we do not know”

Vicky shook her head. “All the more reason for you two not to go! Not both of you!”

“Foolish we are not.” Yoda cautioned, poking her in the stomach with his stick. “Traps, both ways- they can work.”

“If the Sith knows we are leaving for Naboo, despite all of our efforts to obfuscate, then we know that information can only come from a handful of Masters, or some very high offices in the Republic itself with extensive security clearance. If he strikes at us, it can only be from a few places. He would only risk revealing that if the target was worth while.”

“Ask others, to take on this responsibility We. Will. Not.” Yoda answered firmly. “Our duty this is.”

Vicky… could understand that. She didn’t like it… but she could understand that.

“And if you both die?” She had to ask. Had to demand that answer. That they acknowledge that possibility.

“Arrangements- we have made.” Yoda nodded.

“Master Plo-Koon will assume the role of Master of the Order.” Windu affirmed. “Master Yaddle, who will remain on Alderaan’s enclave, claiming illness, will become Grandmaster of the Order.”

Two very excellent choices, and both would provide the smoothest transition in terms of policy. There was no great distance between Yaddle and Yoda, nor even that much between Mace and Master Plo.

Silence fell over the three of them.

Vicky always hated goodbyes.

She was never good with them.

So… she didn’t say goodbye.

She leaned forward, offering the startled Mace a hug that confused and befuddled the Master of the order before she reached over and plucked Yoda out of his seat, his legs dangling in the air as she hugged him tight.

He squawked and squirmed and then thwapped her in the side with the stupid stick.

“You two have a nice trip.” She demanded, swallowing down the emotion as she set Yoda down on his chair. “And you-” She pointed at the faux, cross look Yoda was sending her way, his little mouth fighting to not twitch into a smile. “You bring me a souvenir. I’ve never been to Naboo and I hear its pretty. So you come back with something nice.” She demanded.

The still confused Mace opened his mouth. “That’s… not what this tri-ow”

The man pulled his fingers out of range from the stick.

He was very confused.

Yoda just nodded.

Vicky took a moment to compose herself, offering her most respectful bow. “May the Force be with you Masters.”

“Be with you it will, Knight Dallon.”

Mace didn’t seem entirely sure if he was allowed to say anything.

That was ok.

Yoda would remind him to pick up something nice for Tay too.

(X)(X)(X)

Anakin:

He woke up a second before his comm link rang, a feeling in the force threading between the stars and nudging his senses.

He blinked, unsure if what he was sensing was right or if the pain meds were extra strong tonight.

Then his holo rang.

He reached for it, sensing Padme in the adjacent room, still asleep.

Flicking it on- he squinted at the blue hololithic image- the light stinging his eyes.

“I see you’ve gotten yourself into a fine mess.”

Obi-Wan’s voice was as dry as ever, but an undercurrent of relief soothed through his Masters voice.

“Master?” He groaned, rubbing at his eyes. “Where are you- Aras?” He boggled.

The massive Mandalorian gave him a very flat, very irritated stare beside Obi-Wan.

“We are twenty-minutes out of the Naboo spaceport.”  The Mandalorian answered. “... Your mother sent us to collect you.”

Anakin blinked, staring in disbelief at his holo.

“My… moth-”

“Kicked him out of his house until he promised to go get you, yes.” Obi-Wan affirmed.

“She did not.” She would not. His mother was far too polite. And she was the servant in the Saxon household.

Aras’s answer was a deadpan stare.

Obi Wan nodded. “He doesn’t want to admit it, but he was very worried as well.”

The Mandalorian royal guard’s face could have been carved out of slate granite.

Anakin shook his head sitting up in the bed, ignoring the rolling pain in his ribs. “I don’t understand. I thought Masters from Zygerria would be joining me.”

“They might be.” Obi-Wan answered, a shadow passing behind the light of his eyes. “But I will not leave someone else that I care for, to face the Sith alone.” The man straightened with a deep breath. “So. They can join us.” He said firmly as he straightened with a pompous shake of his head that reminded Anakin far too much of Master Dooku as his eyes glinted with something that Anakin couldn’t identify. “Let’s go kill a Sith.”

“They are our speciality aren’t they.” Anakin nodded with a small smile.

(X)(X)(X)

Darth Sidious:

It is prepared.

Every last piece put in place.

The first of a great many wounds to be inflicted.

Decades of plans and schemes, all culminating in this.

War simmered- just out of reach. But drawing ever closer.

He could feel it to be true. The reality that the time of the Sith, the end of the Jedi was finally upon them.

The holograms glowed. Three pieces on the board. Three apprentices.

There had once been a Sith Triumvirate.

They had destroyed the Jedi once.

Those who do not learn from history… are doomed to repeat its failures.

Of the three, one knelt in beaten down subservience.

The other looked upon him with a satisfied smirk. Reveling in a plan well enacted. A trap well laid.

The third, stared at him as though he were his equal. A presence he had to stomach to meet his goals.

Betrayal, self interest and Hatred seethed within these three. He could understand why the Sith of old could never have succeeded with such things tearing at their foundations.

But he was not the old Sith.

And this was not the old war.

By fear, by guile- by pride they were bound; if only for a short time.

“Vosa.”

The first of his three looked up, her eyes rising. The beaten down dog obeying the call of its Master even as it craved to bite its hand.

“Your list of targets.”

“I have them.” She assured, one hand rising, tapping at her temple, where the cybernetic implant he’d grafted onto her resided. “The list of Jedi Council members. Candidates to lead the Enclaves. Potential Council members… I will find them. I will kill them.”

He doubted she’d succeed in killing them all. If she could, then she was far more dangerous than even he would have wished.

But she would kill enough. Every one would be another moment of chaos. Another instance of grief and pain for the Jedi. The cloud of confusion clouding their judgement as less and less leadership could properly counter his machinations.

But oh. Master Yoda. He was the prize, and as he spoke now his greatest rival was hurtling towards his final moments alongside Windu.

“Jorus?” His second

The ‘Jedi’ sniffed. “I have yet to commit myself to this foolishness. I will speak at the conclave.”

Poor, deluded fool. Even Diaz was not so hopelessly self centered.

He feigned magnanimity. “I wish you luck. Truly. But the Jedi will not see reason.”

“We shall see.” The older man shrugged. “Your attack will not begin a single instant before I am satisfied. If it does, then I will inform the Jedi Council of exactly who you are Darth.”

The Chancellor allowed himself a smile, all teeth and malice.

“If they were to be convinced, Jorus, by all means. Do so. Because then, I have no reason to oppose them.”

The ‘Jedi’ snorted, shutting the channel.

“Can he be trusted?” His third asked.

“A mad beast. To be used and put down as soon as it is convenient.” He assured. And that was the truth. Jorus was a mad dog and a dangerous one, both because of his knowledge, and his power in the force. “For now; he will be useful.”

He turned his attention to her, the last. The mailed armor about his fist that would deliver the heaviest blow. “I trust all is prepared, Apprentice Tann?”

The Chiss woman smiled, confidence and satisfaction radiating off of every fiber of her body.

“Everything is ready, and done with fully legal permissions.” She sounded particularly satisfied at that last point. There was indeed a certain perverse satisfaction in utilizing the Jedi and Republic’s own complacency and corruption against them he knew. “No one will have even the faintest clue- until our hands are around their necks.”

“Good” Sidious smiled. “It is time… to finally deliver the mortal blow. Our destinies shall be realized on Corellia”

(X)(X)(X)

Not much to say here friends.That clock keeps tick-ticking down towards Midnight.