The Force Always Says Yes [Star Wars]

[gasparr]

Great vignette! Always nice to see an inexplicably lethal janitor droid. Helpful to have around. Hope Mlaki actually got a decent payout from the Republic!

 

[Natalino]

The contrast between his inner thoughts and the people around him are fun, unreliable narrator indeed.

 

[Grimmouse197]

And in regards to the Sith Holocron, it is something of a mystery why the Jedi Order insists on keeping as many Sith Holocrons on-site as they can...

Click to shrink...

I strongly suspect that the destruction of sith Holacrons in the past Resulted in plagues and such being released. Other than that I don't see why they don't destroy them.

 

[BC1]

Just finished binging this and quite the amazing story.
Very rare to see anything set in in this era.

Absolutely loved the first scene with the high council I admit it threw me for a loop with Yoda and not being grandmaster, didn't even occur to me that we were that far back in the timeline.
I think you nailed his character though it still him but a younger and more impatient version.

Can't wait to see how this story unravels.

 

[Hyenanon]

Just finished binging this and quite the amazing story.
Very rare to see anything set in in this era.

Absolutely loved the first scene with the high council I admit it threw me for a loop with Yoda and not being grandmaster, didn't even occur to me that we were that far back in the timeline.
I think you nailed his character though it still him but a younger and more impatient version.

Can't wait to see how this story unravels.

Click to shrink...

Thank you! It's one of the most gratifying forms of feedback, to know people have binged this story. It feels meaningful to know someone got immersed in it for tens of thousands of words at a time. I'm glad you enjoyed Fae and Yoda! I've really been enjoying the character of Fae Coven, and it's quite a different experience to write a character that actually exists in the lore outside of my fanfiction. Yoda is fun too. Love getting to use his playful side along with his dogmatic tendencies, in comparison and contrast to the other Jedi we know.

I have more in the works! I will actually probably begin posting more shortly. I haven't finished the arc in its entirety yet, but I know where it's going and the narrative points it will hit, and I want to post more before I begin traveling in roughly two weeks. If I don't have too much trouble in the editing stage, you can probably expect ten chapters before the end of the month. This arc is shaping up to be...almost embarrassingly long compared to the first two. I just passed 100,000 words in the story as a whole last night, actually!

I strongly suspect that the destruction of sith Holacrons in the past Resulted in plagues and such being released. Other than that I don't see why they don't destroy them.

Click to shrink...

It is a mystery indeed. Curses of some sort or another are often rumored, but that applies to active holocrons too. I'll say this much, in my interpretation of the Order's philosophy, there's a good reason, which will be more or less revealed over time. Fae Coven is quite insistent.

The contrast between his inner thoughts and the people around him are fun, unreliable narrator indeed.

Click to shrink...

Nerim picks up on things no one else would, and is oblivious to things everyone else knows. Mostly about himself! This was a trait I wanted him to have from the beginning, and I admit I got kind of frustrated with it at one point because it means I have to leave a lot of things as quite subtle subtext that I wish I could outline more clearly for the readers. Great opportunity for the vignettes. I will have more of them over time, although I'm focusing on the 4th arc for now. The vignettes might not come out in proper order, either.

 

[Hyenanon]

Spoiler: A/N

I've decided to meet my self-imposed deadline, I should actually start uploading right away. If I mess it up, may result in me running out of polished material and leaving you guys on a cliffhanger for a couple weeks before I can finish the rest of it. How embarrassing, how embarrassing...Anyways, I hope you enjoy Arc 4: [REDACTED]

Chapter 34: Sorry Master, Yes Master, I Know Master
​

In the silent, cold chamber of the High Council, Grand Master Fae Coven's pacing steps echoed softly. "I sense a battle in our future, small in scale but great in importance. Servants of the Dark Side not only exist, but thrive under our watch. They have made a careless blunder and revealed themselves, and we must take this opportunity to hunt them down immediately, or else they will disappear into the shadows again. Our actions over the next few months may determine a great deal about the future of the Order, and the Galaxy."

Nerim shared a glance with Arwain, who looked at him with some amount of concern. "Grand Master..." He began, "I understand why you would tell Arwain this. But why are you telling me this?"

Fae huffed in amusement. "Well for one, you can't seem to stop yourself from getting tangled up in it. Remember when I said in due time?"

Nerim swallowed nervously, and nodded.

"This...girl?" Fae asked, scanning his expression. So she didn't know everything? Nerim kept his face blank and emotionless, his mind as clear as he could. Fae shook her head and laughed softly. "The one you're trying to hide from me. The one who studied from the Sith Holocron. You understand this is a matter of grave importance, yes?"

"...No?" Nerim replied, unsure.

"No?" Fae repeated, stopping her pacing.

"I don't think it's gravely important, Grand Master." He said, fidgeting. "More like an interesting footnote, really."

Fae looked at him for a long, silent moment, and slowly smiled. "You don't trust me not to hurt her, is that it?"

Nerim didn't reply, but his silence was a plain answer.

"And yet you trust her not to hurt anyone else?" She pushed, her head tilted and her nose twitching. "You trust a Sith Acolyte more than the Grand Master of the Jedi Order? Does that not strike you as a little strange?"

"With all due respect," Nerim frowned, "A Sith has never tried to kill me. A Jedi has."

The feeling of Arwain's presence tightened in his mind. His eyes darted to her face. 'Bad comparison, Padawan', her expression said to him.

Fae stared at him, her smile fading into that weathered, tired look. "Count yourself lucky, then. The Sith are entirely different creatures than fallen Jedi."

"You have to understand my hesitation," Nerim continued. "Chey-Linn also thought that Aesha was a dangerous Sith Acolyte, and in the process she caused a great deal of damage. I will not be an accessory to another witch hunt."

"The difference being Aesha wasn't Force Sensitive, and didn't have a Sith holocron," The Grand Master replied flatly.

"I..." Nerim thought for a moment, "...I don't think that makes any difference, actually."

"...What?" Fae asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

"If everything else were the same, and Aesha just happened to be Force Sensitive and in possession of a Sith holocron, I still think everything Chey-Linn did would be wrong," Nerim said, his eyes dropping and gazing aimlessly at the floor. "In fact...I think that is the case, sort of. I think Aesha is Force Sensitive. And I still feel the way I do."

Fae stood still in front of him, brow still raised. She glanced to Arwain, who silently looked back at her with similar curiosity.

Nerim continued, meeting her eyes again. "You're using reasoning that I just don't think is good enough. You're targeting factors around the Dark Side of the Force, but not the Dark Side itself. I'm worried you're going to hurt someone, if you keep going like this. Like Chey-Linn."

Fae closed her eyes and sighed. "Nerim, remember your lightsaber training. The core principle, of restraint? How a single bad action on behalf of a Jedi could ruin an entire planetary system's trust in the Order for decades. Chey-Linn has committed a great error, and she will be harshly corrected. But you must not allow her to rule your perception of the Order."

"But I don't know that she has committed a great error in your eyes, you see?" Nerim said, holding his hands tighter together behind his back. "At least, not the same ones that I see."

Fae opened her eyes, her expression still weathered. "She incorrectly identified a threat, improperly rushed to action, unnecessarily escalated the violence, crossed blades with a fellow Jedi, and committed the forbidden Mou Kei strike, maiming two limbs in one swing. The circumstances under which she acted were extraordinary, and I attribute much of her failings to the inattentiveness of her Master and of Arwain, along with your antagonizing. Her very status in the Order is contingent on the results of the trial, if that is what you're asking for."

"I don't care about her punishment whatsoever," Nerim sighed, "I'm just answering your question. No, I don't think it's strange that I distrust you with this information. You are...tempestuous on this subject. You're too focused on battle for a mission that should be about fostering. For all the same reasons that I should not have been sent with Chey-Linn after our experiences in the Revanchist Temple, I don't think you should be sent on this mission."

Fae stared at him. Her eyes dropped downwards, and then back up, towards the windows and the skyline. She smiled and shook her head again. "Tempestuous! Hah! Battle! Hah!" She began pacing again, laughing under her breath. "How can I blame you? How can I blame you for your inexperience with the Sith? It is what I fought for. How can I blame you for your bad experiences with my Order? It is my responsibility. How can I blame you for your good experiences with falling in love? What child can resist? What a pickle..."

Nerim's frown deepened. "I take it you think I'm being foolish."

"Very much so," Fae chuckled. "Goodness. I feel like it's my first year with Arwain all over again. You both have such a talent at defending your mistakes. The same mistakes, even!"

Arwain smiled and spoke up for the first time in quite a while. "Perhaps they're not mistakes, then."

"Pfeh. Need I remind you how much trouble chasing girls got you in?"

Arwain's lips pursed, her back becoming almost imperceptibly more rigid. Her eyes darted to Nerim for a split second, before going back to her Master. "T-that doesn't...doesn't count. It was completely different." She said quietly, visibly regretting her decision to involve herself in the conversation.

"What?" Nerim asked, eyebrows raised.

Fae paced up to Nerim and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, smiling at him. "Young Nerim, I truly mean no harm to this girl you are protecting from me. I understand your trepidation now. You are wise to distinguish between the dangerous, the Dark, and the people who simply walk between the two. But perhaps not so wise to leave her alone to her own devices. In my life I have killed hundreds of Sith, but never have I sought to kill the people who became Sith. In fact, I would rather do my utmost to avoid it. I promise you that I would never hurt her, except to defend the life of myself or others. That is the Jedi way, the way I have dedicated my long life to."

Nerim looked into her eyes for a moment, feeling the calmness and light radiating off of her, soothing yet still somewhat imposing, like the cool mist rolling in from a waterfall. "I still think we have somewhat diverging views, here."

"Yes, but I still trust you," Fae said. "Can't you trust me too? I truly believe this to be of great importance. Whatever we've felt, she has felt it, too. Perhaps even with great precision, given her training in the Dark Side. If she truly isn't fallen, we can be allies."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. That feeling of a string pulling on him was there. There was indeed something very important to do with Tetha, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. There was a sense that he should say yes, but not so straightforwardly. He opened his eyes and looked to Arwain, who nodded in deference to him.

"...Okay," Nerim sighed, "I'll find her."

Fae's nose twitched. "You'll find her? I was going to have a Jedi Watchman do the finding once you revealed her identity."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Nerim said dismissively. "She'd reduce him to tears."

Fae slowly narrowed her eyes. "Is she that good of a duelist?"

"No. She's that bad of a driver."

"Heh. Interesting individual," Fae muttered, beginning to pace again. "It obviously wouldn't be a good idea to send you unsupervised to meet with her."

Arwain excitedly leaned forwards. "But..."

Fae shot her a glare. "I am still in the process of reconsidering your ability to act as supervision."

"You can tag along with us if you want, Master," Arwain grinned.

Fae exhaled through her twitching nose. "Are you so nostalgic? Cute, but it is impossible. Not happening."

Arwain shrugged. "Fine, then. I suppose I'll have to do."

"You are explicitly forbidden from leaving the Temple until I give you permission," Fae responded firmly. "I will meditate on how to go about this. Now, both of you get out."

The two Jedi turned and began walking towards the elevator, and then stopped as Fae whipped her head around. "And when I said get out," she added, "That was not permission to leave the Temple!"

Both Arwain and Nerim's shoulders drooped. "Yes, Master," they replied sullenly in unison.

"Disasters, every last one..." Fae muttered to herself as the elevator door closed.

They began the long, slow ride downwards, the elevator mostly dark aside from the glinting lights of the city traveling silently around them. They each let out a breath of relief, and Nerim leaned on the glass, crossing his arms. After a minute or two, he caught eyes with his Master, and they both began to break out into grins.

"Goodness," Arwain chuckled, "I haven't felt that scared in years."

"Really? You two seem to get along so well," he teased.

"She's intimidating!" Arwain defended herself, laughing.

"So what was that about chasing—"

"Please, my Apprentice, I'm an old woman now. That sort of thing is well behind me." Arwain chided as they reached the bottom, and the door slid open. Jianno stood at the exit, arms crossed with a duffel bag at her feet.

"Are we getting kicked out?" Jianno asked immediately, looking at Arwain in a way that made Nerim somewhat concerned that they had already had a conversation about the possibility of exile.

"Not yet," Arwain winked.

"Damn," Jianno sighed.

"We're actually grounded, in fact," Nerim added.

Jianno looked between each of them for a moment, and picked up her bag. "You're grounded. I'm out of here."

"Nooo," Arwain whined in a defeated tone, holding her arms out and pouting. "Jianno, don't leave me here..."

 

[TFTwink]

"Nooo," Arwain whined in a defeated tone, holding her arms out and pouting. "Jianno, don't leave me here..."

Click to shrink...

Yeah Jianno, how could you leave your shoulder loli

 

[Hyenanon]

Chapter 35: Don't Center On Your Anxieties​

Nerim's ragged breaths echoed through the chamber as he stumbled backwards, lightsaber in hand. His wrists were shaking, causing a slight distortion in the hum of his blade. Sweat ran off of his body and dripped around him, a stray drop sizzling in the yellow-green plasma. "I can't keep up," he said between sharp breaths.

Arwain had broken a sweat, but wasn't quite breathing hard yet. "Willpower, my Padawan!" She grinned, flourishing her yellow blade. "This style requires stamina, but even more importantly, willpower. You will never be so strong that your muscles stop aching. You must learn how to charge regardless. Any hesitation will result in—"

She stopped as Nerim charged her. He swung several times in rapid succession, and she deftly parried him each time. After a moment, he miscalculated a step and tripped over his own foot, falling to the ground with a thud as his lightsaber deactivated. He laid there for a moment panting.

"Hmmm," she placed a finger to her chin, looking down at him. "You're making good progress, but you need to rely more on the Force. It would significantly help with your stamina issues if you let it flow through you more clearly."

He heaved himself onto his knees, but couldn't quite stand up. "Can we please...go back to practicing Huttese?"

She rolled her eyes and gestured for him to stand up. "You speak it as well as any native. Which is to say, poorly. If you got any better it would be counterproductive."

"How about," He gasped for air, "Astrogation?"

She considered it for a moment. "I feel that would be useful, but we would kind of need a ship, and we're grounded. C'mon, we have ten more minutes to drill," she said, threateningly waving her lightsaber in his direction.

"Master, I—" He started, shakily rising, "I'll read The Jedi Path!"

Arwain's jaw dropped. "You still haven't started? Fae is gonna kill—"

The doors to the training chamber slid open, and Fae unceremoniously walked in with her hands behind her back. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything," she said, smiling softly.

"No, Master!" The two replied immediately, snapping to attention.

"It is good that you're practicing," Fae nodded, her kindly expression and playful tone belying her intentions, "After a great deal of meditation, I have decided to send you on the mission."

Nerim and Arwain shared a grin. "That's great!" Arwain replied. "Are we being chaperoned?"

"Yes, although I do hope it turns out differently for your chaperon than it did in your last mission," Fae said, turning and walking out. "Come, now, time is of the essence. We'll talk as we walk."

Nerim restrained a sigh and willed his weary legs to walk forward with her, buoyed by his excitement at possibly seeing Tetha again. They still had not traded letters since prior to the mission on Cathar, even though it had been a little over a week. They had both been very busy, and Nerim wasn't quite sure what to say to arrange a meetup yet.

As Fae lead them down the halls, they passed Master Gendi. She waved him over, and he changed course to walk with them. "Yes, Grand Master?" He asked.

Fae continued walking, eyes closed and smiling, leaving a trail of cool air in her wake. The halls became noticeably more serene with her presence, the lights almost seeming brighter. "Is The Wellspring ready?"

"Yes, Grand Master," Gendi nodded. Arwain and Nerim shared some surprise. The Wellspring was one of the most prized and ancient ships of the Order, having been donated to the Jedi by a loyal noble of Serenno in thanks to Fae Coven for liberating their world at the end of the New Sith Wars. It had been meticulously renovated in the proceeding 800 years to maintain technological relevance, having had practically every part replaced over the centuries. It boasted the fastest hyperdrive the Order possessed.

"Good," Fae nodded, "Please inform Masters Hrragra and Gi that the mission is underway. I trust that you can arrange a meeting with the girl, Nerim?" She fluidly switched focus to the Padawan, not turning or slowing as she walked. Nerim felt that fluttery feeling in his chest again at the thought.

"The girl...?" Gendi questioned, a cautious, bushy eyebrow raised towards Nerim.

"Yeah," Nerim said completely straight-faced, "I have a girlfriend. You wouldn't know her, she goes to another Order."

Arwain barked out a quick laugh. Fae turned her head slightly towards him, eyes still closed. "Pace yourself, Nerim, you are still on probation as far as I am concerned. Hop to it, Young Gendi," she said, and Gendi nodded deferentially and broke off from the group, still maintaining a close eye on Nerim for a moment afterwards. "The Council believes that the source of the wound in the Force is in the Mytaranor sector. The destination world is Saarkane, and that's where she will have to meet you, if at all."

"Short notice for such a specific place," Nerim replied hesitantly. "I've never heard of that world before."

"If it's meant to be, it will all work out," Fae said confidently.

"And if not, we'll improvise!" Arwain added, just as sure of herself.

"That's my student," Fae beamed. They exited out into one of the vehicle bays, where true to her word, The Wellspring stood.

The star yacht was large, sleek, and elegant, well fit for royalty. The polished green surface of the hull was split in the middle with a golden line, floral patterns extending from it as though the ship were in bloom. Its svelte wings were fitted with four large ion cannons, and the pointed nose of the craft glinted with the evening sunlight streaming in through the hangar doors. The entire craft whistled slightly as the Coruscanti winds rushed by it.

The three of them stood before it, and Nerim took a deep breath of the metallic air. He had a good feeling about this, but there was something else nagging at his mind. He turned to the Grand Master. "All this just for us?" He said half-jokingly, half-astonished.

"Of course. After eight hundred years, it's still my favorite," Fae sighed contently.

Arwain's expression became somewhat confused. "Wait, Master, surely you aren't...?"

There was a tapping noise as that small Jedi Master from the High Council emerged from behind a set of crates and walked through the hangar with a cane. He cast his eyes up with a quick glance to Fae. "Must you?" He asked bluntly, without stopping.

"Yes," Fae answered, nose twitching. "I believe I must."

"Great danger, I sense ahead," the Master grumbled, continuing to pass them by. "Agree with this, I do not."

"Such a downer, always!" Fae shook her head. "Pessimism is the shadow of fear! Lighten up for once, Young Yoda! Take good care of the younglings while I'm gone."

"Heh! Lighten up!" They heard the Master mumble as he walked off. "The weights on my mind, you put, old woman!" He called back, before passing through a doorway.

Nerim blinked. "Wait, you're coming with us?"

Arwain almost bounced with excitement. "You said it was impossible!"

Fae shook her head. "All this time, and you still believe things can be 'impossible'!"

"You were the one who said it!" Arwain laughed.

"Oh, so now you listen to me?" The Grand Master snorted, walking up the ramp into the ship.

As she disappeared into the ship, Nerim grabbed Arwain's sleeve and tugged her down to his level. "Arwain, the Grand Master of the Jedi Order is tagging along with us!" He hissed through his teeth.

"I know!" She grinned. They held eye contact for a moment, and then her expression turned to shock. "Oh stars. This is a big deal, isn't it?"

"Yes!" Nerim grimaced.

"Well, then, be on your best behavior!" Arwain said, standing back up to her full height and boarding the ship. Nerim sighed, swallowed his reluctance, and followed after her. The ramp raised up after him, and shut with a hiss.

The interior of the ship was nothing less than beautiful. Somewhat surprisingly, almost the entirety of the interior was green with potted plants and vines growing throughout wooden grids on the walls. Light was emitted from angled panels all over the ceiling and even the walls, leaving everything well lit from every angle and casting dozens of faint shadows in a way that reminded him of the Room of a Thousand Fountains. The furniture was minimalistic, mostly white and brown, with control panels that glowed a whitish-blue.

The main room was large and rounded, with three hallways and a hatch on the floor splitting off from it, leading to the cockpit, quarters, supply room, and engine room respectively. Nerim looked around the inside of the vessel, and couldn't help but smile. "Wow."

Fae turned and nodded to him. "Quite beautiful, isn't it? I've needed an excuse to get back in this for some time. The last time I used it was to greet the new Supreme Chancellor...whatever his name is."

Nerim sat down amid a number of vines. "Grand Master, why are we taking such a...visible ship?"

She shrugged. "We have no need to hide ourselves. Perhaps more to the point, it is untenable to hide ourselves. There's no way you can travel with the Grand Master of the Jedi Order and remain undercover. So, we might as well make this look official, rather than appear like sheepish plainclothes police officers under a spotlight."

"Well, I hope the locals are friendly to Jedi, then," Nerim remarked, pulling his datapad out. Fae and Arwain moved to the cockpit, and he thought for a while about what to tell Tetha.

Eventually, he settled on a short message explaining that his mission on Cathar had gone poorly, and that he and Arwain were moving on to Saarkane in their search. For a while he internally debated on whether to tell Tetha about Fae Coven's presence or not, but he eventually decided that he wanted to keep no secrets. He told her about the wound in the Force, and that Fae wanted to meet her. The short message rapidly became a long one, which he regretted somewhat, feeling somewhat embarrassed at the quality of his writing. He ended it by awkwardly wishing her well, and sent the message through the holonet.

He sighed and leaned back, closing his eyes and resting his head on the wooden wall behind him, worries stewing in his mind. He wouldn't blame her if she refused to get anywhere near the Mytaranor sector while Fae Coven was in it, let alone approach the woman herself. He hoped she wouldn't be mad at him for letting part of her identity slip. He wondered where she was now, what sorts of things she never put in her letters, the life she was living while he was entangled in a world that rapidly began to seem like Jedi nonsense.

What was he even doing here, on this mission? He knew nothing of the Dark Side, he had no great talent in investigation or information gathering, and despite what he was frequently told, he still did not believe he had talent in dueling. Why did he constantly get dragged along into situations he was completely unprepared for?

He looked down and saw an alert on his datapad, that he had received a message. He opened it, expecting to see Tetha's response, only to find a picture of Aesha standing on two prosthetic legs, her arms out to balance herself. Beneath it, she had written "Bet I could still beat you in a race, Jedi Boy."

He laughed.

 

[aedrik_doubletree]

I really appreciate how even though we are predisposed to agree with protagonist (and his master by extension), characters with opposing viewpoints are also real people who have traits beyond "disagrees with MC-kun".

Also, cute!

 

[Hyenanon]

Chapter 36: Be Mindful Of The Future...​

As the droid pilot made the snap to hyperspace, Arwain and Fae Coven re-entered the main area, both smiling. Now that he had a good look at them side by side, in fact, they had eerily similar resting smiles. Fae held her hands behind her back, dark brown eyes nearly closed, while Arwain excitedly tapped her foot, hands resting on her hips.

"I hope Jianno can catch up with us quickly enough," Arwain wondered out loud. "Nerim's friend, also. She could be anywhere in the Galaxy right now."

Fae very slightly raised an eyebrow. "Even you do not know where she is?"

"My student is entitled to his privacy."

"We both know you don't believe that," Fae chided.

Arwain laughed. "I am nosy, not obsessive."

"Surely you must know her name at least," the Grand Master asked curiously.

"Of course!" Arwain replied, grinning blankly at her. Fae stared back with her own small smile. They stared each other in the eye in silence for a long, stretching moment. Eventually Nerim realized they were both waiting until the other broke.

"Oh great," Nerim sighed and mumbled under his breath, "Now there are two of them."

The both of them lightly chuckled, and Arwain wagged a finger. "Now, now, my Padawan. There are three of us."

Nerim looked up at the two, brow furrowed. It was somewhat confusing, to think of himself as one of them. They were absolutely nothing alike. They were Masters of the Force, and on top of that, quite frustrating to be around.

"So what is her name?" Fae asked.

Nerim stared at her uncomfortably in silence for a long moment.

Fae's nose twitched. She remained staring at him.

"You're never gonna believe this," he started.

"Oh?"

"Her name's also Yoda," he replied with completely flat intonation. "Insane coincidence, right?"

"I'm starting to regret this already," Fae said softly, her expression still unchanged from that small saintly smile.

Arwain cracked up, throwing herself into a couch. "Okay, okay. Be serious, now!" She said, pointing to the two of them. "Why are we going to Saarkane specifically?"

Fae gently sat down upon a small chair, which fit her small frame perfectly. "Saarkane is a moderately populated planet which hosts a notorious shadowport. Unlike many Mytaranor Sector shadowports, Saarkane's criminal underworld is not primarily in the business of slave trading, largely due to a confluence of anti-Hutt criminal elements having taken power, and frequent space patrols by the Trade Federation and Wookiee systems in collaboration with local forces."

"Are we trying to avoid slavers?" Arwain asked, head tilted.

"No," Fae said, "But I think our suspects are."

"What, are our suspects victims of the slaver guilds?" She wondered.

"Good guess, but no. Rather, we believe that our suspects have picked Saarkane because they believe the criminal underworld here to be easier to...bully," Fae said, as a mouse droid rolled in with a tray on its head and three cups of tea. Fae took one. "If one were to be trying to pull off a large operation without kicking up much dust, picking a messy world in a troubled sector surrounded by bigger, badder worlds, where even the criminals don't have Hutt connections, is a good bet."

The droid rolled over to Arwain, and she picked up a cup absently. "Large operations...?" She asked, concerned. "These are users of the Dark Side we're talking about. How large scale of an operation can it be?"

"Our archivists have been attempting to ascertain as many examples as we can of what exactly might cause a wound in the Force like the one we felt. Most require death on a mass scale, beyond that of conventional warfare, let alone small scale blood sacrifices. It simply is not very likely that such a massacre occurred within this sector without our notice. And yet, the echoes emanate from somewhere around here."

The droid quietly rolled up to Nerim, and he took the cup, sipping from it. The tea was extremely subtle in taste, a light tone of earthy flavors. One might think Jedi would prefer flavorless water, but Fae had at one point explained to the class when he was a child that she found a serene enjoyment in the experience of having to focus to find the flavors. It was no carbonated soda, that was for sure.

Arwain still held her cup, obviously unaware it was even in her hands, deep in thought. "A wound in the Force is different from a nexus of Darkness. A wound is a place scoured of all Force. We can't look for the usual signs of Dark Side activity."

"Hold on," Nerim's brow furrowed, "Why would they even be trying to hide their activity? If they knew that doing it would alert all the Jedi in the Galaxy, they wouldn't have bothered trying to hide it. If they didn't know we would be alerted, why would they be hiding it?"

Fae hummed in amusement as she sipped her tea. "Well, first of all, you seem to be under a misapprehension, Young Nerim. It did not alert 'all Jedi'. Every Force Sensitive felt it, but it was identified by yourself, the Masters, and a handful of Knights."

Nerim blinked. "...I don't understand. I mean, to be clear, I didn't identify it. All I knew was that there was something wrong in the Force. Like, a sense of...distance. Loneliness. Separation from..." He trailed off, and it clicked. When he felt like he lost contact with that voice on Ilum, and everything became quiet, and stopped making sense. That was what a wound in the Force felt like.

"Most Padawans only managed a vague sense of pain and disorientation over the course of a few hours," Fae remarked. "Most Knights, even. You did not have the tools to contextualize what you felt, but you felt it with greater speed and precision than would be expected for someone your age."

Arwain nodded. "I suspect it has something to do with your feelings of distance from the Force that have followed you since childhood. Perhaps you have a natural separation, or this was a skill you unconsciously worked on constantly as a youngling. It happens with other Force powers on occasion. Most notably, some Jedi accidentally train in Battle Meditation from childhood, and they generally become the masters of the art."

"Wait," Nerim's eyes darted between the two of them, "W-what does this...y'know, mean? About me?"

Fae smiled. "There is an application of the Force known to our scholars as Force Immunity. It is an alteration of the natural 'bubble' all Force Users give off that allow them to resist other Users' manipulations of the Force. As you've been instructed, this 'bubble' can be broken by another User of sufficiently greater strength, allowing them to manipulate a Jedi's mind or body as if they were a normal sentient. Force Immunity, however, makes one intangible to the Force, allowing it to pass through their bubble, as well as their body and mind, without affecting them."

Arwain finally remembered she had a drink in her hands, and took a sip. "As you may already be intuiting, becoming intangible to the Force is very similar to being scoured of the Force. Force Immunity can be a dangerous technique, because it runs the risk of wounding the User's personal Force. Most Jedi are not skilled or powerful enough to actually sever themselves from the Force, but they can temporarily weaken themselves."

Nerim looked down at his hand, slightly flushed from holding the warm cup. "Are you saying I'm...I've been weakening myself my entire life?"

"Sort of..." Arwain reluctantly agreed, "But also, you have a unique talent at confronting Force Users of greater strength than yourself. It also helps you confront sites of dormant power, like the Revanchist Temple."

"Like the wound we are tracking," Fae added. "I agree with Arwain's assessment. This quirk of yours is not something to be ashamed or regretful of, but it ought to be understood and controlled at will, and I believe you have been making progress on this, even if unconsciously."

Nerim's head was spinning. "I don't understand. Is this a talent or a handicap?"

Arwain stood up and moved to Nerim, patting him on the head. "It depends on your point of view. It is a certain angle of attack, not a superior or inferior way of being. Don't overly fixate on it. If you want my advice, don't worry about changing what you are now, just expand the number of ways you can be," she said with a reassuring smile.

He slowly nodded, trying to take in the information, recontextualizing his entire life and finding that...nothing much changed. He had gone from having no recognizable talents in the eyes of the Jedi Order, to having one—but he had already abandoned the desire for recognition from his fellow Jedi. No, what was unsettling was to have been ignorant of such a large part of himself. He still didn't even know what it was he was doing to 'unconsciously train'.

Fae nodded in approval. "Earlier, you brought up an excellent point. Why would they be hiding? I suspect they were not trying to hide the wound from us. But that leaves us with too many questions as to what it is they are trying to hide."

He took a deep breath, and decided to continue with the mission at hand. "What is Saarkane like, exactly? What sort of players can we expect, here?"

Arwain fidgeted with the cup in her hands, her eyes cast up in reminiscence. "We visited it once a few decades ago, back when slavers still had a foothold on the planet. Most of the planet's population is in dense urban centers, with much of the planet still left wild. Saarkane itself is not very remarkable, although the system does contain an asteroid belt rich in rare minerals, so there are large business interests on the planet."

"There are also Republic-affiliated research stations, and a large medical industry," Fae added, "And the aforementioned independent criminal underworld, which is primarily concerned with corporate espionage, smuggling, and the drug trade."

Nerim put a hand to his chin. "None of these groups seem very likely to host a large group of powerful Dark Siders in secret. Where should we start, assuming my friend doesn't arrive right away?"

Fae thought for a moment. "Well, I am not a Sentinel, and I am not very well trained at utilizing mundane methods of investigation. We'll be engaging in niceties and hopefully cooperation with the local authorities, but as for where to start, I leave that decision to you, Arwain."

Arwain turned to Nerim. "I leave that to you, Nerim."

"What?!" He frowned. "Why me?"

"It's worked out every time I've done it, so far," she grinned. "You have a talent for getting caught up in Dark Side affairs."

"One would generally consider that a bad omen in a Padawan," Fae said calmly, sipping at her tea.

Nerim desperately hoped this was an 'Arwain subtly guiding him from afar while letting him take the lead' type thing, and not a 'Arwain getting in a police chase on Utapau' type thing.

___________________________________________________________________________________


Saarkane was a gloomy world. The soil was a dusty blue, and the entire planet was blanketed in constant fog, usually with overcast skies and a slight chill that wouldn't stop one from wearing summer clothing, but would occasionally make them very uncomfortable in a breeze. Its unique atmospheric conditions lead to an inverse of the "afternoon shower" phenomenon that many warm places experienced, where a predictable short thunderstorm would occur most nights.

The world only had a few hundred million inhabitants, but almost all of them were stuffed in dense urban centers filled with skyscrapers whose main color was onyx black, and whose trim wasn't so much golden as it was caution-tape-yellow. During the day, the glass was a reflective cloudy silver, and during the night they were often lit in a variety of hazy colors softly shining through the fog.

But it was mid-day when The Wellspring arrived, and rather than lightly roasted by atmospheric entry, the starship landed in the spaceport with a thin coat of condensation dripping from its descent. The three Jedi exited the starship to the astonishment of the dockworkers, who were all quickly abandoning their work to gawk at their appearance.

Before they had even made it to the security station to have their passports checked, a luxury landspeeder came to a quick stop just outside the gates, and a well-dressed Saarkanian exited and marched towards them with a retinue of bodyguards and assistants.

The Saarkanian species was humanoid in structure, covered in short fur of an unbelievably dark hue, which almost seemed to absorb more light than possible, to the point where it was hard to use one's depth perception on their bodies, as if a silhouette had stepped out of an artbook. Their large forward-facing eyes were suited for taking in as much light as possible on their dim, gloomy world, and their big triangular ears were just as keen. They stood a little shorter than humans on average, and according to Nerim's datapad, they were known for their introspective and melancholy natures, as well as their stunning bioluminescence.

And as if on cue, the Saarkanian in a smart suit approaching them began to flash with colors, stripes of blue and green expanding across his face as if his impossibly black fur was rippling water, giving brief impressions of depth on his features. He grinned, visible only by the sudden appearance of white teeth underneath his big yellow eyes. "My, my, this is quite a surprise!" He spoke in Basic, in a surprisingly deep voice for his size. "But a welcome one! The Grand Master Fae Coven herself!"

Fae stepped forward and shook his hand. They were almost the same height, Fae just an inch shorter. "It is good to meet you, Governor Irmat. I didn't expect you to arrive so quickly."

"I didn't expect you to arrive at all!" He replied, amused. "You could have landed at one of our private spaceports, if you had called!"

Nerim tilted his head slightly. The Governor was very friendly and forward, confident in his posture and obviously well adapted to the pressure of his job from just how he carried himself. According to his basic research, Irmat had been elected to office thirteen standard years earlier, and had won re-election every cycle on an anti-corruption campaign, emphasizing law and order and the contesting of the Mytaranor Sector senate seat, which had been monopolized by the Wookiees for centuries.

Something about the man rubbed Nerim the wrong way, but he wasn't quite sure what. He focused on the thought, reaching out with his feelings, until during their conversation it clicked. Irmat was excited. He wasn't nervous, or afraid, or in awe, or anything one might expect from suddenly coming face to face with the leader the Jedi Order. He had gotten over his surprise, and he was now positively anticipating something. Since when was it good news that several powerful Jedi arrived unannounced out of the blue?

The Governor cradled his hands together. "I must admit, I was shocked at the reports of your vessel entering the Saarkane System! What's the occasion?"

"Jedi business," Arwain jumped in. "Although, we were hoping you could help us out."

Irmat spread his hands, with a rippling flash of yellow light. "Say the word, and I'm at your service."

As they began to follow him to the luxury landspeeder, Nerim leaned in to whisper to Arwain. "Master? I think he already has a use in mind for us."

Her eyes narrowed. "I think you might be right, my Padawan."

As they reached the landspeeder, and its gull-wing doors began to open upwards, Irmat turned to the group of them, his eyes bouncing between Arwain and Nerim. "Oh! Allow me to introduce my wife! Mrs. Irmat, these are the Jedi!"

The doors fully opened to reveal another Saarkanian, a small woman only visible due to the bright white seat that her silhouette contrasted against, a slightly sparkling black dress draped around her. Her eyes opened, just as bright blue as her husband's were yellow. "Stars, I never imagined I would meet a Jedi, let alone three!" She giggled softly. "I am Shesha Irmat, First Lady, Vseyav here is my husband. And you?"

Fae turned to Arwain and Arwain turned to Nerim, so he quickly spoke up. "Um, my name is Nerim, Padawan learner. This is my Master and my Grand Master. Er—The Grand Master, that is, I mean—Ugh. She's Arwain, and she's Fae," he said, sighing and pointing with a thumb.

 

[Psyentific]

They really are making him do all the work, aren't they? Bah, what wretched Jedi! Utterly incorrigible!

 

[Hyenanon]

They really are making him do all the work, aren't they? Bah, what wretched Jedi! Utterly incorrigible!

Click to shrink...

Whaaat? Why else do we even have Padawans?! --Arwain, probably

 

[BC1]

Excellent couple of chapters, I do hope things work out okay I don't want this to be a doom flag for our dear grandmaster.

 

[Hyenanon]

Chapter 37: No Civility, Only Politics​

Nerim sat down in the landspeeder beside Arwain, and they began to move, though the motion felt smooth and calm inside the cabin. The driver was behind a privacy wall, and the tinted windows lent a strange atmosphere to the cab, portraying only the vaguest foggy outlines of a city and pedestrians passing around them as they traveled. The inside of the cabin was well lit and relatively lavish, although somewhat small by his measure.

Vseyav Irmat reached down into an internal storage compartment and retrieved a bottle, pausing for a moment and then lifting it with a playful gesture. "Oh, I suppose Jedi don't drink?"

"That depends," Arwain said, "On whether it's rude to refuse or not."

"In that case, I would say that it is," the Governor winked. He retrieved some tall, thin glasses and poured the strange liquid into them. It was ultramarine blue, with golden flakes swirling around in it. "This is Spelska Nagram, one of our national treasures. We only produce a few million tons for export a standard year, it is highly sought by clubs and wealthy clients across the Mid and Outer Rims," he said, handing the five glasses out.

Nerim dully realized that this was exactly the type of boast a jaded Core Worlder would scoff at, and took the glass in his hand. Fae politely sipped at it with no sign of her approval or lack thereof, and Arwain swigged a mouthful and then almost imperceptibly cringed in discomfort. He cautiously took a sniff, and felt his pupils widen in surprise. It was nothing like he had ever smelled before, rather warm and full of spices.

He took an experimental sip, and felt a wash of sensations spill across his mouth, beginning with a gentle burning and sweet sensation that slowly became soft and warm, with a tone he could best approximate as some sort of estranged cousins to cinnamon and chocolate. He swallowed and felt the burning trail down his throat, and was surprised to feel a residual dust in his mouth, like a coating of extremely fine sand that slowly became more spicy over time, before melting away to nothing.

He licked his lips and took another sip, while the Irmat couple watched happily. "We welcome you with great appreciation for your visit, Jedi friends," Mrs. Irmat graciously dipped her head, her ears and forehead glowing with friendly bands of pink light. "I don't believe our planet has been visited by one of your kind since before I was born."

Arwain pursed her lips. "Well, doesn't that make me feel old."

"Tell me about it," Fae chortled.

The Governor puffed up. "I like to think that reflects well on us, as a world that can handle its own business. Any time the Republic shows up, it's always to deal with the damn Wookiees or Trandoshans. Or both. Usually both!" He took a swig.

"I sense some amount of resentment," Nerim noted.

He waved a hand, apologetic lime green dots flashing on his cheeks for a moment. "Bah, never mind it. Things are just a little too crowded in Mytaranor for anyone's liking. Same old, same old," he sighed.

"We would petition the Republic to redress the issue," the First Lady added, "If we had any representation!"

Nerim frowned. One of the most notorious aspects of Mytaranor was the extremely racialized elections it suffered. All of the native species more or less hated one another after millennia of banditry, slavery, and exploitation. For the last several centuries, Wookiees had managed to outnumber the others through sheer population, and so they held the sector's senate seat comfortably every election cycle, and used it to secure further colonization rights, cementing their dominance over the others.

Fae nodded impassively, her face betraying no emotion. "I understand this has been a difficult region as of late," she said, in a way that subtly reminded everyone she was nearly 900 years old.

"It would be tolerable if the Republic was ever consistent," the First Lady continued, somewhat frustrated. "The Wookiees are all one united front when it comes to financial aid and trade negotiations, but when it comes time to penalize them for their terrorism, every moon colony is held separately accountable!"

"Well..." the Governor attempted to redirect the conversation. His wife spoke over him.

"Did you know that just two years ago, the Kwookrrr colony government was found guilty of a bombing of a Trandoshan gas mining operation? They were sanctioned, and then earlier this year, the Kashyyyk representative used them as an example of the historic impoverishment of Wookiees, and demanded that all Wookiee systems receive economic aid as a result! Including Kwookrrr! And it worked!" She said angrily, her fur returning to a deep matte black, her only visible features being her narrowed eyes and tight grip on her glass.

As she finished her rant, Nerim's eyes felt drawn towards the window. Through the gloom, a large bright blue hologram displayed the words 'SECESSION NOW!' over a plaza, along with the symbol of some local political party. "This planet has a secessionist movement...?" He asked.

Arwain's eyes followed to where he was looking, and her brows raised in surprise as she glanced back at him.

"Ah, yes. A special election is being held, and our third largest party is campaigning on a secessionist platform," Vseyav shrugged, unbothered. "They have very limited support, they're in no danger of coming into power. Worry not, they're more of a thorn in our side locally than they'll ever be a danger to the Republic."

"With all this mistreatment from the Republic, you don't have any secessionist sympathies yourself?" Nerim asked, genuinely curious.

"Of course not," Vseyav said confidently.

"Well..." Shesha trailed off. Vseyav shot her a look, white rings appearing around his eyes, almost making them seem to grow half again in size. She shrugged. "Let's just say my husband here is the only one standing between us and a populist, secessionist coalition."

"This is not what the Jedi came to our planet for, darling," he sighed, before turning to the trio. Nerim could tell his eyebrow was raised only by the slight shrinking of the other glinting eye. "Or is it?"

"No," Fae confirmed, "Although it is interesting. But our primary goal here is to investigate a particular incident. We believe there may be users of the Dark Side of the Force in this or neighboring systems."

"Ah, now that's a reasonable explanation for the esteemed Fae Coven visiting us," he nodded. "Well, we are understandably not the most adept at locating Dark Jedi."

"That's fine, we have reason to believe their operations to be of relatively high scale and involve many non-Force Users," Fae said. She had looong since given up on convincing people to not refer to all Dark Siders as 'Dark Jedi'.

"In that case, I may be of some help," Vseyav winked. "What kind of activity are you on the lookout for?"

Arwain thought for a moment. "Any sort of recent influx of conspicuous foreign visitors would be a good place to start. Gang warfare, unsolved murders, unexplained traffic in the system, unexplained wealth or large land purchases without apparent purpose..."

"Damage to local wildlife or ecosystems," Fae added.

Vseyav snapped a finger, the sound somehow more of a dull thud from his heavily-furred hands. "In fact, we have noticed just such a couple discrepancies. There's been a recent buzz in the system of a number of...interesting unannounced meetings between members of the Techno Union and Commerce Guild, along with members of the Planetary Assembly. "

Somehow, Nerim got the feeling that Vseyav would have brought this up no matter how the Jedi had answered his questions. "I imagine said shady dealings are largely with members of the opposition?" He asked, half-sarcastically.

"Precisely!" Vseyav grinned. If he didn't catch the sarcasm, or just didn't care, Nerim couldn't tell. The landspeeder coasted to a stop, and the gull wing door opened up to reveal a large, old-looking stone building wreathed in fog. It was tan in color and venerable in age, with heavy wooden doors and ornate tall windows that rose up into the fog until it had turned into nothing but a vague silhouette of a dome far, far above.

"Welcome to the Old Temple!" Shesha cheerfully announced, stepping out of the vehicle along with Vseyav. "This is the seat of the Saarkane government, although I don't suppose you need an explanation!"

Nerim tilted his head, something oddly familiar about the structure. "Is this...A Jedi Temple?"

Arwain laughed. "Kind of—"

"No," Fae said with firm finality. "It was the palace of a 'Jedi Lord', and has since been relinquished in its entirety to the Saarkanian people."

"Well, yes," Shesha awkwardly said, "And we are eternally grateful for it."

"Don't be," Fae said, emerging from the vehicle along with the rest. "It never rightfully belonged to the Jedi. It was always yours."

Arwain looked at Fae with some amusement. "I forgot how touchy you are about this kind of thing."

"Mm," Fae hummed lowly, placing her arms behind her back and following the Saarkanian officials.

Nerim glanced around warily as a practical regiment of bodyguards formed a perimeter around the group, keeping away the press that had gathered outside. Ever since Tetha's father had told him about seeing the news of Raxus, he had become much more uncomfortable with the idea of his immortal image stamped across the holonet.

"Does our visit require so great a show of force?" Arwain asked pointedly as they passed a pair of Saarkanians in full-body armor, heavy blaster rifles in their arms.

"Oh, no, you assume too much!" Vseyav chuckled, "They are always around to keep the capitol safe. And no shifty off-world mercenaries here! They're all native-born Saarkanians, fully trained!" he bragged, as if full training was a very strenuous accomplishment. The more he spoke, the more Nerim felt like he was in the presence of the biggest guppy in the smallest pond he had ever touched toe into. He actually found it kind of cute.

Stars, it really was easy to tell he was from Coruscant, was it? At least it was a benevolent sort of bigotry he found himself holding.

They ascended the broad stone steps to the open front doors and walked in, blissfully free of the fog and into a crisp open marble chamber that served as the entrance hall, dotted with doors, elevators, spiral staircases, and kiosks for a multitude of government functions.

They began to approach a rather ornate elevator when an aide approached Vseyav and quickly asked him if he should send refreshments up to the meeting room. Vseyav briefly hesitated, glancing to the Jedi as if attempting to ascertain whether they would be bothered by the presence of more food and drink.

"I don't know about these two," Nerim said, nodding to the other Jedi, "But I would certainly appreciate it."

This time Arwain did a double-take at Nerim, her brow furrowed in confusion. He shrunk under her gaze. "W-what?" he asked nervously.

"My, my, my!" Vseyav grinned from ear to ear, "I am most impressed! I wouldn't have dreamed you to study our language for one little visit! Hats off, to you!"

"I wouldn't have expected it either," Arwain said ponderously.

Nerim looked between them, confused. He hadn't attempted to learn the language at all. And now that he thought about it, he couldn't remember the exact words the aide had said.

Fae chortled to herself. "Perhaps Nerim is not the only one who struggles to see his talents. I had wondered how you learned Mandalorian so quickly."

"And Huttese..." Arwain added quietly, staring at the floor as she thought about something. Then she turned to him. "And Cathar! Nerim, has anyone ever said anything in a language you didn't understand?"

He blinked. "Well, with Huttese, I only ever really get the...gist of it..." he trailed off, looking back at the curious Saarkanians. He remembered times where he was completely lost with language barriers, but ever since he had began training with Arwain, it had never happened to him.

"What a fool I must be," Fae grinned, walking smoothly into the elevator. "Fifteen years in my classes and I failed to bring any of this out of him. Maybe you're a better teacher than I give you credit for, Young Arwain."

"Huh...Yeah!" Arwain said, at first shocked and then delighted. "Maybe I am!" She said, as the rest of them followed into the elevator.

The doors closed and the elevator gently began rising, and Vseyav turned to the Jedi. "Now, these Commerce Guild types have really been rubbing everyone the wrong way. Saarkane has had a fruitful, if limited, partnership with the Techno Union for quite some time, but the Commerce Guild is one of their direct competitors. It's unclear to me entirely why they are both stepping up activity."

"Are they fighting over mining rights?" Arwain asked, leaning against the glass with her arms crossed.

"That's just it! The Techno Union has made no comments one way or the other. You would think they would be trying to pull strings to ensure the Commerce Guild negotiations are shut down," the Governor said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Not only have they not complained to our business regulators, they are entirely mum on the matter, to us, to the press...everyone."

Nerim watched the marble columns pass around them like a waterfall as the elevator ascended. "You think they've come to some sort of private agreement with the Commerce Guild, regarding your system?"

"Possibly. But here's where it gets weird," Vseyav said conspiratorially, "It is not just the Techno Union and Commerce Guild that has taken an interest in Saarkane. They are the only ones contacting our government—that I know of—but executives from Plasma Dynamica and the Intergalactic Banking Clans have also been spotted by paparazzi entering certain exclusive areas. Even Czerka Arms!"

Arwain's eyes narrowed. "That is odd. A flurry of activity like that usually only occurs before a buying frenzy, or some sort of hostile takeover. The Saarkane system is rich in minerals, isn't it? Has some new lode been prospected?"

"Not that I know of," The Governor tapped his foot, "But it is possible that the corporations found one and are just keeping their findings secret. It would be fitting for them to all know before us."

"And how would this possibly be connected to the Dark Sider investigation...?" Fae asked, more directed towards the other Jedi than the Governor.

And still, the Governor decided to answer. "I may not know much about religion, but I at least know that Dark Siders are selfish, driven individuals. They stop at nothing to accrue as much power and wealth for themselves as possible, yes? If there were one in the Saarkanian system, how could they possibly miss out on such a frenzy? One could leech ten million credits from the mere middle managers of these corporations if they had the power, and a powerful Force User would be exactly the person to do so."

Nerim thought for a moment. It was a surprisingly well-argued point, even though it seemed obvious to him that Vseyav just wanted the Jedi to fix the biggest problem he personally faced. On a mildly xenophobic planet with isolationist tendencies, it most certainly couldn't have looked good for him that there was an apparent plan by Galactic megacorporations to move on the world, and nobody—not even he—had any idea why. Allying with the Jedi and ousting whatever secrets the megacorps held would be a massive boon for his popularity.

And yet, again, it was a well-argued point.

Fae turned to Arwain and Nerim. "Thoughts?" She asked in Mandalorian.

"He has no clue, typical politician," Arwain answered, "He just wants our help for his. This is a 'You scratch my back, I scratch yours' situation."

Nerim leaned forward. "That's called a symbiont circle, right?"

Fae shot a look at Arwain. "Never let Nerim enter politics."

 

[Simonbob]

Fae shot a look at Arwain. "Never let Nerim enter politics."

Click to shrink...

Way too nice.

And he's honest! He'd get eaten alive.

Or fall to the Dark Side, and kill them all!


On second thought.......

 

[TFTwink]

No Civility, Only Politics

Click to shrink...

How fitting of 2025 lol

 

[Hyenanon]

How fitting of 2025 lol

Click to shrink...

Not another lecture, Master. Not on the economics of politics... It's too early in the morning... and besides, you're generalising. The Chancellor doesn't appear to be corrupt.

 

[Hyenanon]

Chapter 38: A Thousand Terrible Things Headed This Way​

Nerim rolled over in bed after a long day of political talks, preliminary police reports, meetings with secret agencies, and general attempts at finding some sort of orientation on this Mid Rim world. It was now deep into the night, and Nerim could hear the thunder and howling winds outside the windows of the Old Temple. They had briefly woken him up, and just as quickly lulled him back into a comfortable half-sleep.

He curled, trying to find some other sort of comfort which didn't clearly make itself apparent to him. His bed was warm and soft, and he felt safe and cocooned in a stone colossus that treated the thunderstorm more like an old friend than a threat. It was all very nice, and he was happy with it, he supposed.

Dreams began to return to him, seeming more real than his body laying in bed, until he mostly forgot about his body entirely. He wandered softly lit stone corridors in something he knew was an endless maze, although despite the anxiety the term might raise, he really didn't feel any desire to escape it. He just wanted to keep walking.

At one point he felt a tapping on his shoulder, and turned around. Several dozen feet down the corridor, he saw Tetha walking in the opposite direction. Just as quickly as he saw her, she turned a corner. He smiled and lightly jogged to catch up to her. He didn't call out to her; he never really spoke in his dreams, for whatever reason. But he was content to chase.

The chase seemed to go on for ages, catching brief glimpses of her hair or legs as she exited his sight in another direction, until eventually he rounded the corner and saw her standing right in front of him, staring back at him. Somehow, he suddenly felt a pang of fear that she might get away from him, ironically only now that they were face-to-face.

For whatever reason, she rarely spoke in his dreams, either. But this time, she did. "What do you want?" She asked, in a somewhat curious, somewhat accusatory tone.

It didn't occur to him to talk, so he just raised up his arms and reached out to her, offering a hug. The scene had transformed into savannas of Cathar, and Tetha looked out at the dry grasslands with some surprise, then amusement. "What's this?" She asked. He shrugged. He had no better idea of why they were on Cathar than she did—he didn't even know it was a dream by this point.

"Do you even have a plan?" She asked. She stood in the tall grass like a wary gazelle, ready to dart but curiously cocking her head in his direction. He pouted and lifted his arms a little, gesturing for the hug again. Her shoulders relaxed and she smiled at him sadly, as if he were asking for something completely impossible. "You're so dumb," she said softly. He pouted more. "And cute," she added. He tried not to smile.

She stepped forward and embraced him in a hug. He wasn't quite sure when it happened, but at some point they had transitioned to laying in the soft crunchy grass underneath the shade of a City-Tree, and he held her tighter, pressing his cheek into hers and closing his eyes. He slowly fell asleep, even in his dream.

When his eyes opened again, he awoke in Saarkane, in a room still dark as night with soft neon glows rising up from the city around him and peeking in through the foggy pane of glass. The room was an old barracks, apparently kept exactly how the Jedi Lord had told the Saarkanians nearly 900 years ago that Jedi liked to sleep in. Fae had taken the bed to the left of his, and Arwain slept on the right, where he was facing.

Arwain was curled up tightly in her bed lightly snoring, her face half-concealed by the covers she had pulled tightly around herself. He had always known her to sleep rather compact in colder climates. He felt a brief hope that she was also having good dreams, and rolled over again.

Fae Coven was laid perfectly on her back, one leg bent and crossed over the other and her hands threaded together over her stomach. Her eyes were closed, but she was smiling, and her head slightly turned towards him. "I sense much anticipation in you, Padawan."

Nerim frowned slightly. "Don't wake up Master Arwain," he whispered.

"Hah! As if I could!" Fae laughed in her bed. "She's harder to wake up than a Rancor is to put to sleep!"

He thought back to punching her in the shoulder while she slept in the Revanchist Temple, and how she barely stirred. "Well...Still."

"Do you often have vivid dreams, Nerim?" She asked. His eyes narrowed. "And before you ask, no, I was not peeking, and I don't know what the dream was about. But I cannot help but notice when the Force flows through you strongly right next to me."

"I dream an average amount, or at least I think I do. I've never asked anyone else, really. They're just dreams."

"What did you dream about?" She asked curiously. He grumbled wordlessly. "Oh come on!" She pleaded half-seriously. "I asked nicely this time instead of peeking into your head, that has to count for something."

"I suppose it does," Nerim sighed. "But there's not much to tell. It was just a pleasant dream."

"Dreams are gateways, Young Nerim," she said cryptically. "They show you things your conscious mind doesn't allow itself to see. The past, the future, things which may be and things which never were. I'm sure you've seen such things during meditation as well."

Nerim closed his eyes, trying to fall asleep before she could lecture him more. Several seconds passed, and he opened them again. "Master Coven? Can you really see the future?"

"Don't you sense danger before it happens?"

"Before it arrives, but isn't a blaster bolt already happening once it is loosed? Once the shooter decided to fire, even?"

"Indeed," she smiled enigmatically up at the ceiling. "In that way, everything is already happening, always. We do not sense the future, per say, but rather the inertia of things. Of course, alterations can be made to the trajectory of things by living beings."

"Then how can prophecies be made millennia in advance?" Nerim asked, now mostly awake. "Isn't it a belief of the Jedi that prophecies have been made and completed over the course of centuries, if not thousands of years?"

"Sure," Fae nodded, "Although many of them are of a rather unhelpfully vague nature. Indeed there is little similarity between sensing where a blaster bolt might go and attempting to discern where the prophecy of the Chosen One, for example, might lead."

Nerim rubbed his face. Not the Chosen One. Anything but that. The whole reason he had been putting off reading The Jedi Path was because it began with an unbearably long treatise on the prophecy of the Chosen One. "Master, you really oughta rip those pages out of the book for the next edition," he mumbled.

She laughed. "Over my dead body. But my point is, you should never trust prophecies; that is not what they are there for. Prophecies are a primitive attempt at guidelines. They are what our forebears feared and hoped for, with the pertinent information they could pass on. They are not themselves what will happen, but they point our eyes towards objects of inertia and their trajectories."

"But that means they can become completely irrelevant if the objects are redirected, right? Never to be fulfilled?"

"That's the trick," Fae smiled beatifically, "We just say those ones weren't real prophecies."

"...Do you believe any of this crap?"

"My my, you really haven't read my book," Fae chortled. "How hurtful. And I gave it to you for free and everything."

Nerim began to respond, when he heard a groan from behind him.

"Masterrr..." Arwain whined, pulling the blanket over her head and mumbling, "It's too early for prophecies..."

Fae blinked in genuine surprise. "Have you become such a light sleeper in your old age?"

"I'm not old!" Arwain's head popped out of the blanket, her bleary eyes focusing in frustration.

"Hah! But we must hope that you're not correct about it being too early for the Chosen One."

"Oh, not this again..." Arwain sighed under her breath.

Nerim adjusted himself in his bed, sitting up. "What's the point of this prophecy in particular anyways? If it happens, it happens. It's millennia old and hasn't been important to anyone who's ever lived yet. Why would we be thinking about it?"

"That's just it," Fae said. "If it is true, it has great implications as to our current present, outside the scope of the prophecy itself."

"How so?" He asked.

Arwain practically sobbed into her pillow. "I can't believe you're doing this instead of reading the karking book. When I'm supposed to be sleeping..."

Fae answered his question with another question. "Do you remember the wording of the focal verse of the Chosen One prophecy?"

Nerim tried to will the words to his mind. "That...some special person will destroy all the Sith and bring balance to the Force?"

"Close enough," Fae nodded. "Now think about what that means."

He considered it. "I guess that means...The prophecy already happened?" The gears started turning in his head. "Wait, are you the Chosen One?"

"For the love of..." Fae closed her eyes. "No. I am certain that I am not."

"Then who was it? Lord Hoth?" He tilted his head, referencing the Grand Master of the Army Of Light.

"No. I am certain of that, too," she sighed. "I don't think it was anyone from my generation. Which means one of two things. Either the prophecy has been averted and rendered meaningless..."

He ran a hand through his hair. "Or the Sith aren't actually destroyed yet."

Fae gave him that weary, weathered smile. "Wouldn't that be something?"

Nerim breathed in deeply, and then sighed through his nose. "Okay, I think I have a better idea of why you're so obsessed with this prophecy."

"There's always a third option," Arwain's muffled voice came out from her face still buried in the pillow.

"That the prophecy could have been misread and mistranslated," Fae nodded in acknowledgment. "It is over 25,000 years old, and we do not have the original texts or a complete understanding of the original Tythonian dialect it was written in. I wouldn't bet on it, though. This has been the subject of study for hundreds of thousands of Jedi scholars, and there has been a broad consensus for quite some time."

"Or a fourth option," Arwain added, raising her head. "Which could be that Master Fae is just wrong."

"Oh, not this again..." Fae sighed under her breath.

Nerim raised an eyebrow. "Oh? How?"

"Maybe Fae is the Chosen One," Arwain shrugged. "Or maybe it was Lord Hoth. Or some random Jedi she never met. Or a Sith. Maybe it was a random civilian no one ever wrote anything about. The prophecy doesn't really say that the Chosen One is supposed to be a Jedi, or even anyone important, and it doesn't say anything about what happens after balance is brought to the Force."

Fae shook her head. "Many of the viable translations—the ones I give most credence to—say the Chosen One is a being born of the Force. I was born of two documented parents."

"It's all the Force," Arwain said, using her Master voice on Fae.

"Tch," Fae scoffed.

"Wait," Nerim placed his hands to his temples, a sudden recollection from his early studies in memorizing names and dates coming to him. "How could the prophecy mention the Sith if it's over 25,000 years old? The Sith Order only dates back to, what, 6,700 years ago?"

Fae and Arwain both answered tiredly in stereo around him. "It's a prophecy."

"No, that's stupid," Nerim said, rubbing his eyes. "If there was a famous prophecy that specifically foretold the destruction of the Sith, why wouldn't the Sith have named themselves something else, like the Blif or something?"

"That is such a childish view of prophecy," Fae sighed.

"He has a point," Arwain retorted sarcastically. "That's what I'd do, if I was a Sith Lord. Excuse me, a Blif Lord."

Nerim crossed his arms. "This is ridiculous. It must be a mistranslation. The prophecy is nonsense."

"I don't know about that, Padawan," Arwain said, placing her hands behind her head. "Personally, I think Fae is just too modest about being the Chosen One."

"It is not a mistranslation and I am not the Chosen One!" Fae frowned.

They sat in silence, each privately thinking to themselves that it must have been a miracle they ended up stuck together, seeing as they were nothing alike.

After a few minutes, Nerim threw his hands up in frustration. "Well, I'm awake now!"

Fae sighed and sat up. "As am I."

"Nnnnghhh..." Arwain grumbled, throwing the blanket back over her head in a futile gesture.

 

[Radiant Knight]

They really need to just start teaching everyone it's pronounced Blif so the Sith have a collective freakout whenever they get into a fight over not being respected.

 

[aedrik_doubletree]

Carrying on the fine tradition of each generation in a Jedi lineage absolutely deserving their successor

 

[Hyenanon]

Carrying on the fine tradition of each generation in a Jedi lineage absolutely deserving their successor

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This is absolutely one of my favorite parts about Star Wars lol
One of the biggest reasons I started this project was because I really wanted to explore that master/student dynamic, and that's so tightly tied into Star Wars with every fiber of its being. One of my favorite things about the franchise is that in all of the (good) pieces of media, the comparing and contrasting of students and their masters reveals so much about them and how they came to be. It's both very funny and also deeply moving how Dooku raises Qui Gon who raises Obi Wan who raises Anakin, and same for the strange dynamic between Kreia and Revan/The Exile, and so on. Love the dynamics.

 

[BC1]

I am not the Chosen One!

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It's talk like this that makes me want to read a a story about where it's Grandmaster Fae that walks into Palpatine's office instead Mace Windu. He would be so fucked

 

[Hyenanon]

It's talk like this that makes me want to read a a story about where it's Grandmaster Fae that walks into Palpatine's office instead Mace Windu. He would be so fucked

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Palpatine: "Are you threatening me, Master Jedi?"
Fae Coven: "The Senate will decide your fate."
Palpatine: "I AM the Senate!"
Fae Coven: "It's another Reformation, then." ignites lightsaber

 

[Hyenanon]

Chapter 39: Don't Worry, The Force Will Guide Us​

The three Jedi exited the Old Temple premises, feeling the inconstant rush of cold air turbulently whipping around them in the storm. The streets were lit by hazy holograms and neon, along with the occasional flash of lightning. Despite the hour, the streets still had a fair number of Saarkanians. Some were striding down the sidewalks, carrying transparent umbrellas with holographic patterns swirling across them. Others were simply squatting beneath overhangs, sheltering from the rain and smoking.

Fae and Arwain turned to Nerim. He grimaced. "You two really weren't joking about me taking the lead, were you?"

"Of course not," Arwain winked, "I have faith in you, my Padawan."

Fae deeply inhaled, savoring the sensation of the charged, stormy air. "If we are to find what we're looking for, we must listen to the Force."

Nerim closed his eyes and centered himself. If the Force were talking to him right now, what would it be saying? He wasn't sure. But he knew that his Master listened to the Force, and whenever he followed her instructions he usually ended up in trouble. So he just had to act like Arwain.

A streetcar rolled to a stop over the railing in the street, and the doors opened. Several Saarkanians boarded and disembarked, and without any particular reason, Nerim gestured for Fae to board it. "Grand Masters first," he said. Fae smiled, amused, and stepped into the streetcar. Nerim followed thereafter, and as Arwain placed her foot onto the first step, he put his hand on her shoulder and stopped her, pushing her back out.

She blinked. "What?"

Nerim grinned. "Good luck, Master! Listen to your instincts!"

The doors began to close, and Arwain's eyes widened. "Wait, wait, wait! You can't—! HEY!" She shouted, running alongside them as the streetcar began to move. "That's my move! That's an Arwain move, you can't...!" Arwain trailed off as she skid to a stop in the rain and watched them disappear behind traffic.

Nerim and Fae laughed as they found their seats, much to the bewilderment of the bleary-eyed early-morning Saarkanians on the streetcar. "I admit," Fae said, "I did not see that coming."

"Neither did I," Nerim shrugged. "Now to figure out where we're going..."

He looked up to the display on the streetcar, which showed a truly labyrinthine map composed of at least seventy different lines of very slightly varying shades of color. He cautiously, slowly moved his eyes to the text underneath, noting that it was in fact in Saarkanian, and he couldn't understand it or even make out where one character ended and the other began. He tried focusing on it, but nothing happened.

He fought the urge to ask Fae for guidance. He closed his eyes and reached out, focusing on his sense of hearing rather than vision. The streetcar made an odd warbling and chugging noise, the primitive wheels it was rolling on squeaking and crushing bits of loose change, bottle caps, and other detritus under the weight of the car. The rain pitter-pattered against the windows and made tiny dull thungs against the steel roof. He heard the sound of rustling cloth and low murmurs from the passengers, some no doubt speculating on the strange aliens that had loudly boarded.

The streetcar shuddered and squealed with each start and stop, of which there were many. There was a distant roar of thunder, and he heard one Saarkanian turn to another and ask if that was Fae Coven, to which another responded by asking what's a Fae Coven. There was a mother trying to keep her baby asleep, and a tired salaryman staring out the window at the trailing raindrops, internally betting on which would reach the bottom first.

He opened his eyes. He wasn't sure what the text said, but he knew what it meant, which was that the streetcar was going towards a commercial district, and from there into a grand park at the center of the city. He let go of his breath and turned to Fae, who watched him with muted, pleased curiosity.

"It doesn't come as naturally when I try to do it," he said sullenly, now somewhat embarrassed that the Grand Master was observing him.

"Oh, you're exactly wrong," Fae's nose twitched as she relaxed in her seat. "It comes to you easily when you try to do it. You fail when you try to try to use the Force."

"...What?" He asked, confused.

She grinned. "Be mindful of your intentions, Padawan. You can do anything you try to do. But when you set out to try to do something, that is exactly what you will do; you will try."

Nerim slowly nodded, trying the idea out in his head like he were rolling the Spelska Nagram in his mouth to test the taste. He decided that if he were to lead the Jedi in any useful direction—and by doing so, convince Fae that he and Arwain were not useless lunatics deserving of exile—he would have to put every lesson he learned to use at once. Including the ones he didn't like.

The first question was where to start the investigation. This was a decidedly impossible question. It was far too broad, and encompassed far too much to accomplish in any of the mundane ways he was accustomed to. There were practically infinite equally likely avenues he could travel down.

The streetcar came to a stop and a bell dinged, while the doors squeaked open. He felt the presence of his lightsaber crystal at his side. You can decide, and then you will know. He stood up and exited the streetcar, Fae following behind him. The rain swallowed them up, cold droplets peppering his face and splashing into his hair.

He found his eyes land on a particularly glittering skyscraper in front of him, and began walking. Fae deferentially followed him—quietly judging him, no doubt. His footsteps plodded along the sidewalk, passing by storefronts and restaurants, most still not open even as the sky began to take a slight silvery tone as the sun peeked over an invisible horizon.

"Sir Ma'am! Sir Ma'am!" He heard a high pitched voice call out, and stopped, looking around. He turned his eyes down and saw a young Saarkanian waving at him from a few feet away, standing next to a rack of umbrellas set up by a closed merchant kiosk. "Down here, down here!" She called again to him, speaking in heavily accented Basic, her ears lit up with friendly pink lines. "Would you like umbrella, Sir Ma'am? Will rain all day! Only twenty credits!"

He glanced at the price tag, which quite cleverly said 'Seven credits' in the Saarkanian script. She grinned up at him with a missing tooth. "It will keep you warm and style! This one is green, it suits you, Sir Ma'am!" She said, pulling out a small stick and pressing a button, causing it to extend and a translucent umbrella to open up with a thwump and an electric hum, then begin glowing a bluish green with a slight hum.

Nerim was somewhat amused by the resemblance to a lightsaber. He also figured he ought to have one; even if he didn't mind the rain, he would eventually mind the cold. Trying to remember what Arwain taught him about haggling, he folded his arms. "Cute, but you can't be serious. They don't look that durable, and they're not even properly sized for my species," he said, obviously around the same height as the adult Saarkanians passing by. It wasn't exactly a lie, he was just short for a Mirialan. "I'd settle for ten credits for a pair."

"Whaaaaat?" The Saarkanian girl's eyes widened, her fur flashing zig-zagging patterns of electric blue in surprise. "Sir Ma'am is too bold! Far too bold! These are more durable than they look, will stand up in gust winds! They look sleek for style, but still strong! Like Coruscant!" She said, winking. "But I cannot stand to see you stand around in the rain, too unbecoming of Saarkane! We are hospitable! I will sell you big discount, two for twenty five! That is almost half off!"

"Ridiculous, it's not even my preferred shade of green. And I doubt you have her color," he said, gesturing to Fae, who stood still as a statue with her very slight smile and hands behind her back. "Be reasonable, two for twelve. That's a twenty percent increase to what I would usually pay!"

She shook her head emphatically. "No no no no no, you wound me, Sir Ma'am! I offer you half off and you respond with a twenty percent? Twenty is not even half of fifty! How rude!"

"You were already overcharging me nearly triple! Fourteen is what you'd offer a Saarkanian," he countered with a smirk.

Her face went black in surprise, her features invisible except for two big blue eyes that stared at him. He looked down at the price tag, and she followed his eyes, and then looked back at him. A ripple of blue and red crossed over her, that combination of surprise and anger. "Since when do so many foreigners read Saarkanian?!" She cried in frustration.

Nerim blinked in surprise. "How many others have you met?" He asked.

She turned and banged on the kiosk, and the metal slats over the window opened up, revealing an adult Saarkanian in the middle of setting up various electronics and knickknacks. "What?" he asked in confusion to his daughter, before looking up and seeing the Jedi. "Offworlders! Welcome!" He said with a big smile. She frowned and began explaining the situation in Saarkanian to him. He tilted his head in confusion. "Again?" he asked "No offense, but where are you all coming from? Who are you?"

"We are Jedi, from Coruscant," Nerim answered, unsure.

"From where?!"

"From Coruscant," he repeated.

"Spast!" The Saarkanian man cursed, more out of surprise than anger. "They're coming from everywhere! Twi'lek from Sleheyron think she was some kinda Jedi yesterday!"

Nerim shot a glance to Fae, who was now listening quite intently. "She thought she was a Jedi?" Fae asked.

"Yeah, delusional!" He complained, before his daughter cut in.

"Not like Sir Ma'am!" She said, hands up apologetically.

The father's cheeks flashed lime green dots. "Of course! But she was waving her hands around and insisting she could get things for free! Like in the movies!"

Fae nodded, leaning to Nerim. "Saarkanians are resistant to mind tricks," she explained.

"Good to know...?" Nerim said, pursing his lips. "What did she buy?"

"Mm, wanted diatium power cell," he explained.

Any hint of Fae's normal saintly expression vanished, her brow furrowing and lips winding into a tight frown. "Diatium?"

"Yeah. I don't sell them!" He quickly explained, "But I use one in kiosk, ever since blackout two years ago. She wanted me to take it out of my radiator and give it to her. Weirdo! But she paid good for it."

Diatium power cells were rare in civilized space, mostly due to their relative cost and impracticality. They were expensive and finicky, but generated a nearly endless supply of power. Nearly useless for blasters and far more expensive than just recharging appliances every couple of weeks, Nerim only knew of a few uses for them, and about half of those were as lightsaber powercells.

Fae stepped forward, leveling her gaze at the Saarkanian. "Do you have any idea where she might be now?"

He shrugged. "She was uh...Secret? Secret airy? She work for Czerka. Don't know where she would be. Didn't even know Saarkane had a Czerka office."

The Grand Master fished out a datary from her robe and placed it on the counter top. The Saarkanian's eyes bulged as he examined the golden coin with a 100 engraved into its surface. "Thank you. We'll be taking two umbrellas."

The child jumped in place, her fur rippling with pink lines. "Yay! Thank you, Sir Ma'am! What color?"

Fae took a moment to smile as she saw the elation of the girl. "Any color is good." The girl grabbed a stick from the basket next to the rack and handed it to her, along with the green one for Nerim. The Jedi nodded and began quickly walking.

Nerim tilted the glowing umbrella so he could see Fae's face. "Do you think it could be a Dark Jedi?"

"If it isn't, we would be lucky," Fae said as she extended her own umbrella, shrouding herself in its crimson red glow. She adopted a perplexed expression, looking up at it. "Really...?"

 

[Simonbob]

I see the Force likes Nerim.


I just can't be sure if it's likes him, or likes him, you know?

 

[Goudeauboywade]

just can't be sure if it's likes him, or likes him, you know?

Click to shrink...

For like the fifth time this fic…I. SHIP. IT

 

[Simonbob]

Nerim tilted the glowing umbrella so he could see Fae's face. "Do you think it could be a Dark Jedi?"

"If it isn't, we would be lucky," Fae said as she extended her own umbrella, shrouding herself in its crimson red glow. She adopted a perplexed expression, looking up at it. "Really...?"

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Now I'm thinking about it....

Is said Dark Sider going to think Grand Master Fae is a fellow Dark Sider? Based on her blood red umbrella?


Now, that? That would be funny.

 

[Hyenanon]

I see the Force likes Nerim.


I just can't be sure if it's likes him, or likes him, you know?

Click to shrink...

For like the fifth time this fic…I. SHIP. IT

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I'm never going to beat the Nerim Harem accusations...My poor boy just has too much rizz

 

[BC1]

Fae Coven: "It's another Reformation, then." ignites lightsaber

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Palpatine: " Why do I hear boss music?"

Fae said as she extended her own umbrella, shrouding herself in its crimson red glow.

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Darth Bane: Get your own stick! Being moody and having garish colors is our thing!

 

[Winmantis]

If the Force were talking to him right now, what would it be saying?

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Yes