A Young Girl’s War Between the Stars

  33

  Tython, 40 BBY/960 GSC. Six months since landing.

  Pulling my cloak up and making sure my helmet was on tight, I trudged across the sand towards my destination. Beside me, Arthree rolled along the sand with no problems, while Revan’s projection floated silently beside us, looking around with interest—his holocron tucked safely away inside one of the droid’s hidden compartments.

  “Have I ever mentioned how much I hate deserts?” I asked as we topped a rise and spotted our destination—just a short distance from where I’d landed the Rusted Silver, so as to avoid any potential issues that might come with excavating the site.

  Arthree let out a long, exaggerated beep and the projection chuckled. “Once or twice. Though I can’t say I blame you.”

  Below us stood what was left of the site of Qigong Kesh, the only other functioning Tho Yor temple ship. All but the very top was buried, swallowed by perhaps thousands of years worth of sand. According to the holocron I’d taken from Akar Kesh, this was the site of one of the nine Je’daii temples scattered across Tython. This particular temple was dedicated to the study of mental and sensory skills.

  Given the state of Akar Kesh and how it had been mostly stripped of everything of value, I wasn’t expecting to find much. If I was lucky, maybe a holocron with some old techniques.

  Of course, old didn’t necessarily mean bad or useless. This universe was a bit anachronistic like that at times.

  Technology had been discovered, lost, and rediscovered countless times over the millennia, and in many cases old tech that was dug up out of some archaeological site dating back thousands of years could be more advanced than anything we had on the market. Just speaking with the memory of someone from ages past showed that the Jedi and Sith of that time were on an entirely different level from the Jedi of this time. So, given that anything I found here could be five thousand years old or more, it was entirely possible that it would be superior to whatever techniques were their equivalent in this day and age.

  We eventually stopped halfway down the slope to the ship. Looking at Arthree, I asked, “Where is the upper hatch?”

  The droid beeped and projected a hologram, showing the buried structure taken from scans we’d taken while flying over. Looking them over, I nodded and focused on the ship below—or rather, the sand before it. Sand erupted in a geyser as I pulled, a solid stream of it flying into the air and landing further down slope as I cleared the area around the hatch. Until eventually, the hatch was revealed and I felt that enough of the surrounding sand had been removed that it wouldn’t collapse back down and cover the hatch, trapping us inside.

  Once more, I had to force open the locked outer door, before we could get into the airlock. Once we were inside, we made our way towards the center of the ship as we lad last time. All of the Tho Yor seemed to follow a similar design and, judging by the leftover remains inside the ship, it looked like it had been used much as Akar Kesh had.

  We made it down to the central meditation area or whatever purpose it had once served and I smiled at what I found waiting. “Another holocron.”

  Picking it up, it connected to my mind much as the first one had. I let it and found a practically identical system to the first. Unlike the first, this one was entirely dedicated to storing techniques, not philosophy or history. Grinning, I tucked it away into my bag after putting it back into sleep mode and we made our way back out.

  Pulling off my helmet and cloak as we made it back inside my ship, I tapped my wrist controls to recharge the suit’s contained atmosphere while taking my seat. I was going to try for one more of the Tho Yor temples today, then at least do a flyover survey of the other sites listed in the Akar Kesh archive.

  Plotting a course for what should be Mahara Kesh, the Temple of Healing, I left my seat as the ship lifted off. “Arthree, take over for a bit,” I told the droid and made my way back to the fresher to knock the dust off and relieve myself.

  I was just finishing up lunch when the droid chirped and I felt the ship slow to a stop. Picking up my plate, I made my way forward to the cockpit. “What have we got?”

  A diagram popped up on one of the displays and I read it over. Below us was a structure jutting up from the ocean. It had once been a four pointed star, but time and water had eroded much of the exterior. The ship it was built around was intact, but without power, and the interior was open to atmosphere. There were a few life signs, but given their sizes, and what I felt in the Force and with my emotion sense, they were likely just birds.

  “Alright, set us down there,” I pointed to the base of the temple, and the droid whistled. The ship moved and I hurried to put away my plate.

  We touched down and I grabbed my helmet and pulled it on. “Arthree, stay here and monitor the scanners and comms. If this thing collapses, I don’t want the ship getting pulled down with it.”

  With that, I opened the hatch and dropped to the ground. Making my way to the lower door, I opened the panel beside the door. Since the power was completely out, I grabbed a hydrospanner from my pack and fitted it into the manual door release. It didn’t want to turn, so I pulled my staff from its position on my belt and extended it, before wedging it in to use as a cheater bar.

  With a bit more force, I felt and heard the rust break loose and the spanner turned. I retracted the staff and put it away, then quickly worked the door open. The interior door required the same manual entry method, but this time at least I didn’t have to break out the staff to break it loose.

  The interior was overgrown with lichen and the floor slick enough that I had to activate my mag boots to keep from slipping. My suit’s lights played over the surroundings in a way that gave everything a creepy feeling, like some isolated, long abandoned deep sea research facility, and even though I felt no danger in the Force and no emotions other than birds around me, it was still creepy in a way that made my hands itch for my lightsabers or blasters.

  Despite the eerie atmosphere however, no creatures jumped out at me. No parasites burrowed through my suit to make their home in my brain. No tentacles yanked me into their lair to do the sorts of things one would see in a doujin or hentai.

  I found a third holocron exactly where I expected to and left without incident—a quick perusal of the table of contents equivalent showing that it contained medical knowledge, both mundane and using the Force. I made my way back to the ship and we were soon airborne and heading back to base.

  Stripping out of my vac suit, I put it in the fresher to get clean and changed into my robes, noting that they were getting tight and short in places, and my armor would need adjusting again soon. Once I was finished, and the sonic shower shut off, I stowed the vac suit and took the helm. Reaching out, I mentally pinged the holocron containing Revan’s engram. He appeared behind me and I looked over my shoulder for a moment, acknowledging him before going back to monitoring my instrument panel.

  “I’m going to have to report what I’ve found and likely turn it over.”

  The man nodded. “Yes. This sort of thing would be seen as a test of loyalty. Learning the information within would be permissible, but you would be expected to turn the holocrons over for review. The Akar Kesh holocron will likely be put into some archive of dark artifacts somewhere, as it contradicts the current teachings of the Order. The other two would, at best, be put with the rest of the Jedi holocrons and access restricted only to Masters in good standing.”

  Frowning, I asked, “Is it possible to copy their contents?”

  “It should be. It seems like they were explicitly meant to share knowledge, not secure it.”

  “Then my next question is, how does one go about making a holocron? If I make copies, I can hand the originals over and keep the copies secure somewhere.”

  “It’s actually easier than you’d think. You will need a few things though…”

  Tython, 40 BBY/960 GSC. Eight months since landing.

  Wind whipped through my hair and my heart pounded in my chest as I pulled up sharply, my stomach flipping like the world’s best roller coaster—except this was a roller coaster entirely under my control. The Force alerted me to danger and I jinked left, then down as red blaster bolts streaked past.

  Laughing, I flipped upside down and pumped the air brakes, killing my air speed and allowing the Mando OpFor team to close in. Raising my rifle, I sighted them down and fired a short, three round burst for each. The rifle was in training mode, but each of the shots still carried the Force with it, and when they hit Beskar they made a very audible, clear note denoting my ‘kills.’

  I dumped altitude and charged them, jinking between streams of fire as they tried to keep me away, but it was useless. I’d danced through much thicker fire on the Rhine front and other battlefields and all of this was just a friendly warmup compared to that hell.

  Dropping the rifle and letting it dangle from my chest as I neared to within yards of them, I drew both of my lightsabers. I passed through the middle of their formation, sabers smacking against arms, legs, and heads as I managed at least two strikes against each of the six man team who had followed me up.

  Then, I accelerated hard and climbed, shutting off the sabers and tucking them away as I gained altitude. Checking my altimeter and air speed formulas, I chuckled as I passed the sound barrier—far, far beyond what their jetpacks could keep up with. Pulling my rifle up, I snapped off more shots as they tried to climb after me, firing the whole way.

  Danger screamed at me in the Force and I threw up a shield an instant before a much larger, much stronger blaster bolt slammed into it and sent me tumbling. I recovered quickly as one of our two fighters screamed by overhead, then jinked out of the way as the second fired. Reaching out, I grabbed for the blaster bolts. One of them froze in the air, while the other streaked past me.

  While starfighter blasters do actually have a training mode, that training mode is for use against other ships, with ship grade shields that can register the hit and shrug it off with no damage. If one of those hit me without my shield, and if I couldn’t absorb the energy of it, it was going to hurt—and probably end up with me face-planting into the dirt.

  And yet, for some reason, despite the thrill of fear and the hammering of my heart in my chest as I prepared to dogfight a pair of starfighters without my own fighter… I was smiling so hard my face hurt. This was the most fun I’d had since Serenno, and I was loving every second of it.

  The thrill of battle. Of the chase. The danger. Pitting my skill and power against that of others and seeing where I stood, what I needed to improve.

  I took that emotion, bundled it up, and fed it straight into my flight formula.

  My laugh faded somewhere behind me as I chased after them, an eye on my airspeed indicator showing I was nearing Mach two, while a check of my internal Force reserve showed I was nearing bingo—but much slower than I would have elsewhere, given just how thick the Force was in the air here, and the fact that I slowly recovered it even as I flew. The two fighters split off, one turning left to circle and approach me head on, the other breaking right to do the same, slowing so he could act as wingman for the first craft.

  I’ve got enough for one pass, without tapping into the orb. One pass to decide the fight, then I have to descend and rest for a few, before we start it all again.

  In spite of the fact that another one or two good hits could rupture my shields and force me to retreat, I actually had the advantage in a straight up fight. As I’d observed with the Rusted Silver, most starfighters weren’t great at atmospheric flight or fighting. They were designed primarily for space combat, with combat in atmo a secondary concern, and all of those ridiculous design principles led to most of them not actually being aerodynamic at all.

  That was generally where deflector shields came in, but those were typically either disabled in atmosphere because running them to combat atmospheric drag at high speeds cost a lot of energy/fuel or they were on, but the ship wasn’t going all that fast to conserve fuel. Also, because certain types of thrusters weren’t generally used in atmosphere, and especially not over populated areas, due to either pollution or radiation. Meaning that while starships could go hypersonic in atmospheric flight, they generally did not—and the limits they held themselves to tended to put them in the Mach one to three range of speed for atmospheric flight and fights.

  Most starfighters fell into a very odd range of being able to get to another planet or down to a planet’s surface very quickly, while actual engagements between starfighters in atmosphere weren’t all that dissimilar to what I remembered from dogfights between aircraft on Earth and took place at about the same speed. From what I understood from speaking with our Mandalorian pilots, standard doctrine for atmospheric combat was to slow down and engage the enemy well inside the range of blasters and try to conserve missiles since they were practically useless against other fighters due to poor targeting systems that had difficulties hitting anything smaller than a cruiser in flight and built in countermeasures on fighters being capable of handing them. On the other end of the spectrum, space fights were done at full speed, but damn near knife fighting range.

  That was all to say that I could go faster unless they exceeded those limits, turn harder and tighter, presented a much smaller target, and had far more accurate targeting. If I wanted to disappear all I needed to do was drop to the deck, hug the terrain, and find somewhere to lay low. If I was aware of enemy movements, I could turn nearly every engagement into a sneak attack as well, between optical camouflage and being able to quickly ascend to their level and slip up behind them. Testing had shown that if I wanted to, my rifle could breach shields and cockpits or ship hulls, meaning that all of my shots were valid when I could take out engines or pilots with a well placed shot.

  The advantages they had over me were higher output of their blasters, the fact that they didn’t have an altitude ceiling, if they ever actually decided to go for emergency speed they would very quickly leave me in the dust, and their much longer flight time and range. So if they ever decided to escape, if they scored a lucky hit, or if they just wore me down I would be done for.

  Which was why I was training against them now so I knew what to expect and could formulate plans for intercepting and neutralizing spacecraft in the future if I ever needed to. So far, my record against our starfighters was in their favor, if we didn’t count ambush kills—but almost all of those were the enemy outlasting me and having to concede the battle.

  Not this time!

  I accelerated, feeling myself getting drained faster by the second. The ships fired and I jerked upwards, out of the path of the shots, and cut off my flight formula. Drawing a bead on the first, I splashed its cockpit with a three round burst and abruptly reversed course, feeling my body lurch and ache in protest as I used Tutaminis to convert the physical force of my forward momentum into Force—coming to a dead stop, only to suddenly speed up going the opposite direction as the first fighter peeled off acknowledging the kill while I drew even with the second.

  Moving in close, I landed in front of the cockpit. The pilot looked up at me through the window as I grinned and fired a single shot into the deflector shield. Shaking his head, he slowed down and I hopped off, heading back down as I felt myself nearing empty.

  Keying up on the radio, I said, “That was fun~! Let’s break for lunch, then we’ll do it again!”

  The replies were less enthusiastic than I would have liked, honestly. Nearly bordering on insubordination! I couldn’t imagine why. Really, it sounded like they were just being sore losers at this point. It’s not like I beat them up in training every single day.

  No, I only did that three days out of the week.

  I’ll have to find some way to motivate them. Perhaps some special training exercises? I’ve been meaning to test how many times I can cast successive explosive formulas now, and Tython is the perfect place for it with how strong the Force is here. It would be good practice!

  Tython, 39 BBY/961 GSC. One year since landing.

  I floated, weightless. Surrounded not by a void, but by light and shadow. A constant stream of energy poured over my skin, the soft caress of it alternately warm and cool, and sending goosebumps running down my naked flesh.

  It filled my lungs with every breath. Moved outwards through my body, down to the tips of my toes and the ends of my hair, permeating every cell. I drank it in and pushed some of it back out, to the warm piece of metal and crystal dangling between my breasts. The steady fourfold ticking was an ever-present, reassuring presence—audible to my ears and something I felt in the Force, as the seed of Force grew ever larger within it.

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  I mentally traced the minuscule paths physically etched inside it by the Force, filled and channeling the Force and the echo of my intent. It felt both familiar and new to my senses. It followed similar patterns to the cursed Type 95, but there were many differences—too many to count, and yet I knew each and every one of them by heart, etched as they were into my memory as surely as they were into the songsteel of the quad-core computation orb hanging around my neck.

  Letting out my breath, I took another and repeated the cycle. Over and over as I opened my Force senses wider and tuned out the world around me.

  In between one breath and the next, I stood outside myself, looking on myself sitting with my legs crossed, floating above the floor of my quarters. Slowly, I moved—very much like I did when flying, but without the math, just force of will propelling me as I floated around myself.

  The body I saw had grown somewhat over the course of the last year. I was several inches taller. My muscles a bit larger. My white hair was a bit longer, and starting to grow beyond my ability to tame it myself—definitely out of regulation, but I couldn’t say I disliked the look. My face was starting to lose some of the childish roundness, growing sharper—still very cute and pretty, but quickly maturing into beauty. The rest of my body was similarly not there yet but all the signs were there.

  Puberty had struck earlier than I was expecting at just ten years old, and with the force of a truck. Apparently, that was actually about normal for Zeltrons as a species and I was entering my first large growth spurt, where I could expect to gain another six inches in height over the next year or two—and I had already hit five feet since coming here, with my mental math projecting I’d top out about 5’11 by seventeen or so. No more squeezing through air vents for me, it seemed.

  I was constantly hungry. Even now, with my consciousness mostly divorced from my body, I could still feel the gnawing hunger. The exhaustion as my body rebuilt itself and grew day by day. And it wasn’t just a hunger for calories and protein. No, my body sucked down the energy of the Force like I was dying of thirst. With the medical techniques I had learned in the Temple on Coruscant and those I was learning from the holocron from the Mahara Kesh, along with my own exploration of my body through meditation, I could feel it working to strengthen my body from the cellular level up—making me more durable, stronger, faster. More capable of storing, producing, absorbing, and channeling more Force every day.

  The projection of Revan thought it was fascinating, and potentially a reaction to the strain I was putting my body under, or to being in a Force rich environment that wasn’t actively working to cripple me as the Force nexus under the Temple on Coruscant seemed to be trying to do. Jedi and Sith in his time were just plain stronger than those of my era seemed to be, even without the difference in techniques. His theory was that I was growing to match that sort of power—and very quickly.

  Turning away from my body, I looked down briefly at myself and raised an eyebrow. I looked human in shape, but appeared to be made of energy. Light, shot through and covered with veins of dark ranging from deepest black to little shadows it was hard to tell were any different from the white. I focused and my physical body cracked its eyes open, and for a moment I found my perception mirrored as I stared into myself, staring into myself, staring into myself—

  I focused and confirmed the …Force presence? Astral body? It was definitely a Similfuturus projection, but I hadn’t given it a distinct form. It wasn’t visible to the naked eye. And yet, somehow, thorough my physical body I could see my spiritual body—as though it were both there and not. I took a moment to take in the details I hadn’t been able to see just looking down—namely, the burning blue eyes and shining white hair floating behind me.

  I closed my physical eyes and turned away. A bit of testing showed that I could interact with objects in my room in this state as if I were there, or choose not to. I could just as easily pick up my lightsaber as let it fall through my hands. Using Force Telekinesis for simple things seemed to come naturally, just as Revan’s projection had said it would—at least, once I got the technique for actually projecting my mind outside my body down.

  Passing through the wall and outside was as easy as stepping through an open doorway, and I took in the planet around me. If I could whistle, I would have. The camp sat in a gushing geyser of Force pouring up from the ground—not even my body’s voracious appetite for it putting a dent in the stream. On the horizon, I saw other wellsprings of Force in every direction—light, dark, and somewhere in between.

  People in the camp moved around, going about their morning routines. They all stood out to my eyes, like glowing, people-shaped motes of life and Force, even if the Force in them was barely a flicker. The science team sat in the meal hall and ate breakfast with the security team that would be monitoring them. Another third of the security team were currently turning in, hitting the shower before they racked out. The third group were patrolling the perimeter, watching the comms and security equipment, or performing routine maintenance on our equipment.

  Above the low noise of those around me in the Force, I felt the pull of things elsewhere on the planet. A patient insistence here. A seductive whisper there. Things that begged for help, for attention, for release. Those feelings were even stronger in this form, and it seemed like they knew something was different, as their presences became just a bit stronger. These weren’t the regular, mechanical call of the Tho Yor.

  I turned them out and looked upwards, towards the morning sky overhead. My physical eyes wouldn’t have been able to see beyond the light scattering painting the sky blue, but these eyes saw clearly. I blinked at the intricate web above my head—glowing veins far, far above stretching seemingly to infinity. The feeling of things far in the distance, presences in the Force—some familiar, some not. Some friendly. Some that felt entirely hostile and dangerous.

  Turning my attention away, I—

  A knock sounded at my door. Looking down, I saw a Mando standing outside. “Ma’am? Call for you. …Ma’am?”

  The knock came again and for a moment, I panicked, not knowing how to get back. Thinking proximity couldn’t hurt, I flew back into the container. The moment I came close to my body, it felt like I snapped back into place, like a rubber band stretched out and released. I opened my eyes, blinking in the candlelight of the room.

  “Coming,” I croaked, easing myself down to the floor and making my way to the door. Pressing the intercom button, I asked, “Yes? What is it?”

  “Sorry, ma’am. There’s a call for you. It’s urgent.”

  I contained a sigh. “Wait three minutes, then send it to my quarters.”

  I moved away and pulled on my clothes. Thankfully, I had thought to pack things a few sizes larger before the trip, but even then I was starting to outgrow what I had planned for. The bottoms and sleeves of my robes were a bit short and my body stocking was a bit tight, and I’d had to adjust my armor twice now to make room.

  Almost as soon as I finished dressing, the holocom sitting on my small desk beeped with an incoming call. I accepted and found myself looking at Taria, standing in a small room in the Temple, looking perturbed.

  “Tanya, the Council of First Knowledge has decided that the survey of Tython is complete enough to put it on the list of viable candidates. You are to have your survey team packed up, paid, and off planet inside the week. I’ve sent coordinates to your holocom. If you recovered anything that needs to be reviewed, drop it off at the vault there, then send me a report of any areas on Tython that stand out as particularly dark, dangerous, or questionable.”

  I raised an eyebrow at the slightly older girl getting straight to business. “Understood. But I take it this isn’t just about Tython?”

  “No, unfortunately not,” Taria shook her head. “You’re needed elsewhere.”

  Perking up, I asked, “What are the details?”

  Taria looked uncertain for a moment. “Potentially a rescue.”

  “‘Potentially?’” I repeated, and she nodded.

  “Almost four years ago, a retired Jedi Master by the name of Master Noor R’aya stopped checking in with the Temple. Someone should have checked on him before then, but things became hectic around the Temple at that time and it was marked as low priority, with the prevailing opinion being that his equipment failed, or he passed away peacefully.”

  Four years ago? That was about the time I joined. …Oh. Yes. I see. I brought news of a potential war coming. It’s possible that this was put on the back burner as a result and it’s only now that they’re getting around to it, I mused, nodding along to her explanation.

  “So the Temple finally sent someone?”

  “Yeah. We had a newly promoted Knight in the area and sent her on a detour to check on him once she completed her mission. Luminara Unduli. She reported back that his home on Sorl had been sold and was now inhabited by another family, but that they said the place was ransacked and damaged by what looked like blaster fire and long burns and cuts matching a lightsaber when they bought it. She also reported that it felt like a fight had taken place there in the Force, but not a murder. Knight Unduli believes Master R’aya was taken hostage, though for what purpose, we don’t know.”

  “She found a trail?”

  Taria nodded. “She got the story out of the local police and spaceport’s records around that time. A police report of a disturbance in the neighborhood, and then the departure of a ship, and its name. Another handler did some digging and determined where that ship has been seen coming and going from and sent her the info, since we want this one resolved quickly. Knight Unduli went to Simpla-12, where she reported that she was starting her investigation. We received regular reports for a few weeks, before they stopped. Her last scheduled check in was three days ago. Now, we can’t raise her holocom. There isn’t so much a local police force as a constable, since it’s an Outer Rim backwater—an old mining town. But we’ve called them and they say they haven’t found a body, but that they don’t have the time or resources for an investigation for someone who may have just gotten lost or wandered off planet and not told anyone.”

  Crossing my arms, I considered the girl on the other end of the call as I thought it over. Finally, I came to a conclusion I didn’t like. “You don’t buy that. You think the kidnappings are related. That they are kidnappings, not taking them hostage for ransom. That whoever did so is targeting Jedi. And potentially, the local constabulary are in on it.”

  Taria was silent for a few moments before quietly admitting, “I do, yes.”

  Picking up the emphasis, I asked, “Others don’t?”

  The aqua haired girl let out a frustrated sigh. “No. They don’t believe anyone would specifically target the Jedi. It’d be suicide, because they know we’d come down on them hard.”

  “So, they’re either incompetent or lazy,” I murmured, earning a rueful chuckle from the older girl. “Then my goals are to infiltrate covertly, determine the nature of Knight Unduli’s disappearance, then attempt to find and if possible rescue Knight Unduli and Master R’aya?”

  “Yes. Search and Rescue is your first priority. However, if you discover they’ve been killed… Search and Destroy. This one is off the books. You can’t mention my involvement, at all—my superiors have made their opinions clear. If you find them and they ask how you knew to look for them, make something up. Say you felt a disturbance in the Force on your return to Serenno, since the Simpla system is on the way. Call Master Dooku and arrange for him to claim he was checking up on an old friend who had gone missing. I don’t care, as long as it doesn’t point back to me.”

  “I understand,” I agreed. “I’ll start shuttering the site and get everyone off Tython, before heading for Simpla-12.”

  “And don’t forget to drop off whatever you’ve found.” She paused, then asked, “Did you find anything?”

  I nodded. “Some holocrons.”

  “Oh? Now I’m interested. Are they worth looking through?”

  “One contains a record of Tython and a war long ago, when the Je’daii order fractured between light and dark.”

  Taria clicked her tongue. “Can’t show that to the younglings. It’ll have to go in the vault. And the others?”

  “Collected from two other temples. One details meditation and Force sensory exercises. They’ve been helpful for refining my control with certain techniques,” I explained, and she nodded. “The other has detailed medical knowledge and both Force techniques for healing and more mundane methods.”

  “Ooh! Very nice. I’m sure the Medical Corps will appreciate that, once we’ve had someone go over it for anything problematic. I think I’ll have a little look over them myself first though,” she grinned.

  “If that’s all, I need to start preparing,” I reminded, and she nodded. We said our goodbyes and I disconnected the call.

  Leaning back in my chair, I thought over the problem.

  Obviously, the enemy was targeting Jedi, and was apparently good enough to take on at least a retired Master and a newly minted Knight. Just as obviously, we were making it too easy for them. Spotting a Jedi wasn’t exactly hard to begin with. Just look for the robes and lightsaber, and usually the too calm or too self-assured demeanor. Most of the Jedi I was acquainted with would not blend in with a crowd, even in disguise.

  So, I need to look like something other than what I am. But I also need to be able to move freely and investigate, poke my nose into places without arousing suspicion. Stand out, but not in the way a Jedi does.

  Luckily, I had a ready made excuse for that, and potentially a means of carrying it out. Doing the mental math to convert to Sundari time to make sure it wasn’t too early or too late, I put in a call to Jaster.

  After the last time I called him needing something, I had been checking in monthly just to keep him updated and stay updated myself on what was going on on Mandalore. The older man seemed to enjoy the calls, and I did as well. It was always good to keep up relations with one’s friends and allies, and calling him for an hour or two every month cost me nothing.

  He picked up after a few rings and I blinked upon seeing both Jaster and Satine on the other side—Jaster standing, while Satine sat at a desk. The blonde woman smirked.

  “Tanya. You never call, you never write. Did what we shared together mean nothing to you?” she asked, her tone teasing.

  “Ah yes. Cleaning brains out of each other’s hair. Truly a moment to bond over,” I rolled my eyes. “It’s good to see you too, Satine.”

  “Thank you! You too. I missed your cutting wit and that blunt charm.”

  I rolled my eyes, about to retort about her own catty attitude, however Jaster cut right to the point. “This is off your regularly scheduled check-in, kid. Something wrong?”

  I nodded. “Yes, actually.” Both of the Mandalorians on the other side tensed and I held up a hand. “Firstly, the Order has decided that what we’ve done here is good enough, and they want us to clear out. So, I’ll be sending your people back to you within the week. Should we wait for your transport to arrive to collect the prefab units, or…?”

  Jaster shook his head. “More trouble than it’s worth to collect them, honestly. Just leave ‘em. Put them in power saving mode and lock up. You said you cleared out all of those Flesh Raiders nearby, so you won’t need to worry about them breaking in and using them. Throw some camo netting over them, maybe some limbs to help disguise them from above. Having a little bolt hole is always handy.”

  “I see,” I murmured, nodding. “Very well. I’ll be sending some samples back with the research teams. I don’t recommend trying to commercialize them.”

  Satine chuckled. “Yes, I saw the report one of the students sent about some species of plant that can be used for tea. I can’t wait to try it.”

  “It’s excellent, but I recommend starting with twice the amount of water you would use for normal tea,” I advised. “I’ve been experimenting with different brewing methods. I’ll send over my notes. Anyway, tea isn’t why I called.”

  Shaking my head, I steered the conversation back where I needed it to go. “A Jedi Master and Knight have been reported missing. The Knight tracked the Master to Simpla-12, where she herself disappeared. We believe that someone is targeting Jedi.”

  Jaster frowned. “What kind of idiot targets Jedi?”

  “This kind, apparently,” Satine murmured. “What do you need help with?”

  “I need a favor. If I send you my measurements, can you have a full set of armor made to spec and have someone fly it out to the Simpla system to hand it off? I’ll return it after the mission is complete, but I need to not look like a Jedi, and to have business there. So if you have a bounty or job close to the area I can take on as cover, that would allow me to investigate without drawing the wrong kind of attention.”

  “Armor’s not a problem. No need to send it back until you outgrow it,” Jaster shook his head. “It won’t be full Beskar though, just Beskar-plated.”

  “That’s fine.”

  “As for a mission,” the blonde beside Jaster hummed, before smiling. “I’ve heard my wayward sister might be hiding out in the area. Would you mind checking for me? If you find Bo, please bring her back in one piece. If you don’t, then we’ll know where she’s not and can pick up the search elsewhere. I’ll have it formally issued through the Bondsman Guild.”

  Nodding, Jaster added, “I’ve got some contacts within the Guild. I’ll push your paperwork through and get you officially registered, then have the mission issued to you. They know not to ask too many questions about ops like this. If you can get those measurements sent over, I’ll make sure someone’s there to meet you with it. Thought about what colors you want? And what kind?”

  Humming, I said, “Something light and sleek. Matte black. With a short cloak, please.”

  “Equipment for the vambraces?”

  “A wrist-mounted shield on the left arm would be nice.” An energy shield would save me the energy and mental bandwidth of creating a shield with a formula. Reminded of a thought I’d had during my training against our two fighters, I grinned and added, “Actually, think you can send me a full body personal energy shield with it, to go on a belt? I need one for a little project. I’ll wire you the money. A non-lethal option for capture would also be appreciated.”

  “Wrist-mounted shield, belt shield, and a dart launcher with electro-darts. Will do,” Jaster agreed. “I’ll contact you when it’s finished and on its way.”

  I was about to sign off when Satine cleared her throat. “Ah, one more thing?” she asked, and I nodded. “I haven’t heard from Obi-Wan in a while. Can you, that is to say,” Satine frowned, cutting herself off. Finally, she asked, “She’s not ignoring me, is she?”

  “Not to my knowledge. I’m not sure she would tell me if she were,” I admitted, a bit awkwardly given I was being put in the middle between those two and I wasn’t sure how to feel about it. “I spoke with her the week before last and she seemed fine.”

  “Yes, and I spoke with her last week. But I tried to call yesterday and today and haven’t received an answer.”

  Considering for a moment, I asked, “Did she say where she was?”

  Satine thought about it for a moment before answering, “Some mountain range on Duneeden, I believe.”

  “Have you tried Master Qui-Gon?”

  She shook her head. “I didn’t want to both him with personal matters.”

  But you’ll bother me with them? I mused. Well, I suppose it makes sense. I’m closer to her in age. More of a peer that she can speak to informally, than someone with a political position she has to address formally. I’m also Obi’s friend, so asking me to intercede on her behalf isn’t out of the question. And I suppose we’re on… friendly terms? She has improved somewhat since I first spoke to her and it couldn’t hurt to strengthen that relationship.

  After a moment, I came to a decision and nodded. “It’s entirely possible she and Master Qui-Gon are on some sort of mission requiring a comms blackout. I’ll check into it as soon as I can and let you know. ”

  “Thank you, Tanya.”

  With that, I hung up and went to go start sorting things out. I had a lot to do to prepare before leaving. I needed to let the science and security teams know that we’d be packing up. I needed to use some of our lab equipment meant for fabricating hazmat suits to scan my body and sent off the results to Jaster, along with authorizing a credit transfer for the shield. I should call Master Qui-Gon and verify that everything was okay. I also needed to make sure that the holocrons I’d created matched the contents of those I’d copied their data from.

  I should call Master Dooku and let him know what’s going on and that I expect this could take a while to resolve. Then, when it’s done, I’ll head back to Serenno.