"What do you mean the Jedi investigators dispatched didn't use one of your refits?" The icy cold, tension laden question had been asked by a man whose incredibly harsh bone structure and hair that was prematurely graying as fast as it was thinning made him resemble a fresh cadaver despite his being only thirty years of age.
"Jedi Master Sifo-Dyas is as much a surveillance expert as he is an authority on how terrorist and organized crime organizations operate. He's an absolutely brilliant and utterly relentless investigator. Which is why he's Dooku's right hand and hunting hound. Meanwhile, Dooku is an operator who has connections and is owed serious favors from one end of the galaxy to the other. I warned you Wilhuff that deleting the camera footage would only work if no witnesses brought the event in question up for scrutiny, but you insisted on believing no one would notice a bird-woman with an ignited lightsaber leaping into the night from a Coruscanti high-rise just before the crazed Jedi's inexplicable sabotage of the building's power-grid caused great arcs of electricity to chase her into the night seconds before the top floors of the building went up in flames. I released a worm to delete holonet posts with keywords related to the incident, but Sifo-Dyas or one of the other Jedi slicers must have seen and copied such a post first. Wish in one hand, shit in the other, see which gets full first." The tall executive explained flatly. Running a hand through his dark, curly hair as he watched his "partner" pace angrily about his office.
"A great deal of effort went into making sure literally no other craft lacking a tracking beacon would be available to the Jedi. At least none appropriate for a journey to the Outer Rim and back. Would you care to explain what went wrong, Raith?" Wilhuff Tarkin coldly inquired.
"You're forgetting a great many of the older Jedi Masters retain their own courier-ships. A tradition the Order seems to be in the process of reviving ever since their Shadows discovered the Scimitar on Naboo. I may have had the connections and resources to avoid any real consequences for my involvement with that project, but the Jedi do know my company built the custom infiltrator they were able to tie to that would-be assassin. The days of the Jedi Order trusting Santhe/Sienar Technologies or any of it's affiliates near their assets are at an end. Furthermore, the Jedi are now aware the offices of the Judicial Branch leak like a sieve because of Nebula Front's activities. You've noticed they no longer plan anything cooperative with the Judicials ahead of time whenever they can help it? That's a consequence of the terrorists assassinating all those Trade Federation delegates on Eriadu. The debacle which proved the final nail in Valorum's coffin. Well, the Jedi learn from their mistakes like everyone else, Wilhuff. I'm not going to be surprised if they bring in some slicers from the Mid or Outer Rim to retool the Temple's electronic security in the near future" Raith lectured in an irritated tone. His tone clearly conveying just how offended he was by Tarkin's attempt to make the obvious point of potential failure in their scheme his fault.
"Well? What do you suggest, then? I'm not ready to simply give up on an opportunity of this magnitude. If you have all the answers, you should be able to dazzle me with your brilliant plan!" This last was delivered by the old-money military man from Eriadu with a brooding anger tinged subtly with desperation.
Raith's smile was the picture of self-satisfaction, as he explained "I was unable to get a tracking beacon placed upon Master Dooku's personal yacht, but a short range listening device capable of uploading it's recordings as soon as that pair returned to Coruscant fell within my means. I have the transcript of the conversation between him, a Master Dark Woman, and a Padawan named Skywalker. During the conversation, Dooku mentions the Jedi Master assigned to the investigation would need a familiarity with the Gardaji Rift. Which is in the Gardaji Sector, obviously. I know you've got more ships at your disposal than the ragtag force of ex-Trade Federation security vessels you want me to lead, so just how badly do you want this? There aren't exactly a huge number of systems in the Rift which might have habitable worlds" Raith replied with the smug look of a man who plans for all eventualities.
"I'll contact you when I have what we need. You would do well not to disappoint me again, Sienar." Wilhuff's voice was a threatening growl as he glared at the polished CEO. Who was making a point of seeming to be unaffected by his co-conspirator's anger.
"As you say then, Wilhuff" Raith replied in an easy, conciliatory tone. Outwardly, he was a picture of calm self-possession, but inside just one mass of overactive nerves as he considered just how dangerous an adversary the man opposite him could be.
"Times, they are a changing, and I must change with them." The thought was a bleak one, so the genius pushed it from his mind as he deactivated the holo-schematic featuring one of his latest designs where it appeared in the middle of the table at his right elbow. He'd only brought the schematic up to give him something to look at besides a fuming Tarkin, because the Expeditionary Battle Planetoid was nothing but a boondoggle-in-the-making without significant advances in hyper-matter technology he didn't anticipate being made in the near future. Still, the designer couldn't help noticing his "partner's" eyes kept drifting back to the holo-schematic as a small smile he found more unsettling than reason provided excuse for touched the other man's harsh features. It was only with the greatest effort he suppressed a shiver that Tarkin would have taken for a sign of weakness.
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29.1 BBY, Zonama Sekot
I gritted my teeth as it grew more difficult to remain the channel for the Force required to enhance my strength so I could successfully complete my two hundredth and fiftieth push-up. Master Dark Woman didn't seem to be paying attention to my efforts, but the downward telekinetic pressure she was exerting on my legs and core never wavered as I counted off.
"Two hundred twenty-four, two hundred twenty-five, two hundred twenty-si-" I gasped, as my count was interrupted by a sudden and unexpected doubling of the downward pressure just as my arms had begun to lower me back down from my highest point. I regained control and turned the downward push into part of my push-up as soon as I could, then begin fighting my way back upward as I found breath enough to continue the count. It had been three days since she'd first tried this, and this time I hadn't ended up flat on my belly.
"Good, you learned after last time that giving way before my sudden increase in pressure would give you the time required to rally and begin pushing back. Sometimes, we must take a few steps backward in order to give ourselves room for the run-up to a successful leap forwards, Anakin. This is a principle applicable to many things in life. Your power and talent won't always permit you the direct approach you so often employ, and said approach can become a channel to genuine aggression and therefore the Dark Side, besides" Dark Woman lectured in a calm, perfectly unruffled voice.
I was still fighting my way through the count-off and devoting all my attention to watching out for a new surprise that it would be just like my Master to pull, so couldn't find the breath to reply. When I finally announced push-up two hundred and fifty, she gave the command to release. Announcing the training segment was over, so I was therefore safe from surprise attacks. I winced at the throbbing pain in my arms and pectoral region, but couldn't deny the Jedi Master's brutal training methods were paying off as I considered the beginning of real muscle definition in my arms, and the ease with which I moved.
Normally, at least, but right now I just wanted to let the sonic shower in the refresher beat on my viciously aching muscles. The tough old woman was smirking at my discomfort as I staggered into the refresher. Prompting me to focus on my breathing as I let the irritation that smirk engendered in me flow through and out of me. It wasn't easy, but I was determined to gain the kind of self-control my teacher had. I knew I was going to need it to resist bisecting certain servants of a certain villain without apparent legal cause in future, after all.
While the sonic shower's focused waves drummed in their near-silent way against every part of my aching frame while I slowly turned fill circles beneath it, I considered my Master and her methods in more detail. It wasn't hard to see why a traumatized child like Aurra Sing had gone rotten after exposure to Dark Woman's initial training. The Jedi Master was a savage anachronism by the standards of her contemporaries in the Order. Prioritizing the ability of each of her students to survive and thrive even amidst great adversity over civility and their regard for her. Dark Woman only cared about shaping me into the best Jedi I could possibly be. If that shaping involved a great deal of pounding, chipping, grinding and subsequent polishing, that was quite all right with her.
My constantly exhausted and forever aching body wouldn't have minded throttling her, but I loved the savage savant regardless. I didn't need a smiling older brother figure trying to muddle his way through training his first Padawan simply by trying to replicate everything his own Master had done to and for him. No, what I needed was someone who knew exactly how to draw out and refine my talents to their best effect. Someone who knew the pain the metal experienced in the fire of the crucible would be forgotten as soon as the bright and tempered blade was polished and drawn forth for the first time.
At least that's what I told myself in the shower as the throbbing pain caused tears to slowly trickle down my cheeks. It was something I'd told myself a thousand times before, and no doubt would again. Along with my endlessly reiterated refrain: "Master Dark Woman knows my limits far better than I do. She would never push me far enough past them to permanently harm me. If I want to be good enough to stand up to the kind of evil, broken, and downright deadly rogues Palpatine will use and use up in his rise to power, then I must endure. It's the only way to be ready in time to make a difference. Qui-Gon Jinn or Obi-Wan Kenobi could never have taught me to be anything but the equivalent of a target-droid for the likes of Sora Bolq."
The name of the Weequay Jedi Master that Mace Windu had perfected Vaapad; his Form VII variant with was still capable of chilling my blood. I wasn't making Anakin's mistake of considering my dreams a set-in-stone-and-on-rails road to the future, but when you dream of the man giving orders to a Zabrak with a prosthetic arm and a balefully red cyber-eye as a great hooded and extremely indistinct blackness stands amidst a deeper darkness behind both more than two dozen times? Well, you begin to suspect Master Bolq's fall might have been inevitable even without a corrupted Dooku's prodding. It was knowing Juyo/Form VII in general, and it's Vaapad variant in specific which had lead more Jedi Guardians to their fall than any other single piece of Force-lore that had convinced me to avoid the dangerous Form. If the likes of Obi-Wan Kenobi was considered too reckless and shallowly grounded in the Light for Juyo, then Form VII would devour me whole.
Emerging from the refresher wearing a clean change of clothes, I returned my lightsaber to my belt immediately as my Master had ground into my head every day since leaving Ilum. "The lightsaber is one of the most deadly personal weapons in the galaxy. It is capable of ruining or outright ending a sentient lift with minimal effort, and you built this one with your own two hands. Meaning everything done with it is your responsibility to a greater or lesser extent. It is a grave responsibility to bear such an implement, so you will live up to this responsibility, or it will not remain your responsibility whilst I remain your Master. Have I made myself perfectly understood?" It had made me respect the old Jedi more. Seeing such iron resolve in her eyes as she'd made this declaration, because despite all the take-the-Initiates-or-Padawans-to-build-their-first-lightsaber scenes in the novels and comics, you seldom if ever saw the Knight or Master driving this point home.
Dark Woman didn't take her eyes from the controls as I entered the cockpit, but she did gesture toward a tiny square parcel sitting to her immediate right on the edge of the console. The little square box wasn't wrapped, but it did have a simple four-point bow of thin dark blue ribbon about it. When I picked up the box, my Master stated with quiet warmth "Best wishes on your life-day, Anakin. I know you aren't any fonder of useless knick-knacks than I am, so I got you something useful."
Genuinely curious what the always pragmatic Jedi Master would consider a useful life-day present, I tugged the ribbon from the square white box and lifted off the lid to reveal a small scrimshaw-like pendent covered in arcane etchings of exquisite detail upon each facet of it's eight-sided polygonal shape. The moment I touched the pendent while lifting it out by it's thin silver chain, I gasped.
"This has it's own presence in the Force! Not quite like something alive, but steady and pulsing with a faint echo-reflection. It's a little like parts of Ilum" I exclaimed with genuine surprise.
"The pendent has been imbued with a Force-resonance aligned with the Light by an old acquaintance of mine. Someone from a Force-using tradition you won't have heard of. Since telekinesis is one of your great strengths, I thought a focus which will amplify your fine control and increase by a small amount the speed with which you can channel the Force into various telekinetic techniques would be playing to your strengths. The focus loses its associated resonance slowly as it's used, but I know just enough about the Witch's spells to show you how to recharge it. I know it's against tradition to speak of value when giving a life-day gift, so let's just say this absolutely cannot be replaced if lost or broken, all right?" Dark Woman explained. Looking up for the first time as she did so to favor me with a much wider smile than the rare small flashes I generally saw.
"You have worked very hard up to this point, Apprentice. Throwing yourself into your training with unwavering resolve. One of the biggest initial hurdles most Padawans face is coming to terms with the reality that their present training represents the beginning of a lifelong vocation. You; Anakin, seemed to intuitively understand that from the very beginning. In a way that was almost unnerving to witness in a boy not yet six. It's this drive to grow and progress, as well as your thirst for learning which are your greatest strengths. Not your natural talents or unusually strong connection to the Force. We are each the sum of our choices, and you have to date chosen well. Keep this up, and it is conceivable you might be ready to face the Trials in as little as another seven or eight years." The Jedi Master's tone wasn't complimentary, so the words meant all the more to me for being a simple statement of fact as the veteran instructor saw it.
I dropped the chain over my head and smiled at my teacher, but before I could think of something to say she concluded in a stern tone. "All of which means I have been doing you a grave disservice, Padawan. Clearly, I have not been working you to the utter limits of your potential. A failing on my part I vow to correct from here on out. Now, go get some rest. We'll reach Zonama Sekot in approximately eight hours. Since it's your life-day, you may sleep in an extra hour; if you wish."
"Missing the opportunity for an hour of active meditation to work all the stiffness out after I wake, Master? You've taught me well enough I no longer need unnecessarily aching muscles to convince me of the virtues inherent in diligence." The words were respectful, but I let a bit of teasing irreverence slink into my tone to let her know I'd recognized the offer for the trap it was. I couldn't see the Jedi Master's face as I rose and trudged tiredly from the cockpit after eighteen hours of training, but I felt the warm trill of approval from her lingering as I fell into my cot. Sleep found me less than five minutes later.
Once asleep, it didn't seem to take long for the dream to find me. Coming as it did in two separate and distinct parts like always.
From the deeply recessed dark brown eyes glaring fiercely or at least passionately out at something I couldn't see, to the flaring nostrils of the flattened and divided nose, and the tension obvious to me in the muscles surrounding the lipless mouth. Some great emotion had overcome the former Jedi Master, as he opens his mouth to address an audience invisible to me.
Only his face, neck, and upper shoulders are visible to me as Sora Bolq speaks, but I've seen this exact several second-long interval so many times I can make out a few words reading the Weequay's lips. "I assure the Parliament something-something-something-something will force the Republic to something-something-something right to something-something." His head tilts ever so slightly, as if he is paying close attention to something being said, if one judges by his intent expression. I try this time, as I always do, to make out any portion of his reply to the invisible and inaudible speaker(s), but fail as I always do. His face breaks apart into tendrils of thick gray smoke which then spread to blot out the entire picture.
The second and final portion of the fragmentary dream is an ambiguous snapshot. Two hooded and formless shadows stand nearly opposite each other in the foreground. Nothing visible of either beneath long dark cloaks except their eyes. One pair of eyes is a sulfurous yellow which flickers momentarily to dark brown; then back to yellow. The other set are mismatched orbs of yellow and baleful red. Well behind the pair of lesser shadows stands a huge darkness only suggestive of a humanoid form. It's only distinguishing feature being the obvious tilt of it's topmost portion. Giving the impression of a figure deliberately looking away from the foreground of the image I see.
I see both fragments multiple times in rapid succession. Until an insistent noise pulls me from my troubled slumber.
The chiming of the chronometer on my wrist drags me back to full wakefulness. I check the device and see six hours and two minutes have passed as I lever myself off the cot and begin loading the small fanny-pack like pouch I hang from the rear of my belt. The smallest datapad I own, two spider-droids of my own design the size of my fist. Each with simple and silent repulsor-lift boosters used to allow them to "jump" to places they can't scuttle to in near-silence. One dragony-nautilus slicer-droid I purchased after saving up my meager stipend for a year, then heavily retooled into something only quasi-legal. It's the size of both a grown man's fists put together, and that's without it's four-inch long interface cables extended. There's only so much meditation one can do, and my barely adolescent body can't be pushed to it's limits every waking hour. Master Dark Woman approves of my increasing my technical proficiency in what little free time I'm not meditating or training, but I'm ninety-nine percent sure she can't follow the fine details of my technical pursuits. A couple of the dried fruit ration-bars (the only ones I can stomach), a flask of water, and twenty-five feet of climbing-line with collapsible grapnel round out the pouch's contents.
Setting the pouch on a convenient bulkhead outcropping adjacent to the gantryway, I take a couple of paces back and drop into the active meditation katas that Adept Vinrae taught me. It took me quite a while to be able to develop sufficient focus to perfect my form to the point doing so was unconscious, and remain a steady channel for the low trill of the Force throughout my body as I glide through each movement, but now it's all memorized essentially. While I move, I feel the stiffness beginning to fade, and can't help smiling. When it comes to many minor things, Dark Woman takes a very hands-off policy. Feeling there are some lessons better internalized as lived experience rather than preached-upon instruction. Giving myself time to run through a few active meditation sequences to chase away the stiffness ensuing after an intense workout being one of these lessons.
I feel; rather than hear or see my Master approaching behind me. Her tiny pulse of approval at seeing me already up and meditating a gently-plucked harp chord in the Force. I frequently say her approval of me is rare, but that's her intentionally communicated praise I'm referring to. At least I think the non-verbal chords of approval and disapproval are unintentional on her part. She's certainly subtle enough to leave such a thing unspoken, but I'm unsure if that fits as part of her style. In any case, she retreats back into the cockpit without saying a word. Just checking up on me, then. I resist the temptation to sigh while transitioning from a high to mid-block, then advance a step as I mime a strike-series high-low-mid. Reminding myself for the umpteenth time that from her perspective I'm a twelve year-old boy she's completely responsible for. One she cares enough about to want to prepare me to survive lethal perils engendered by adults and their killing machines. Which is what makes her apparent sadism a mix of the heartwarming and maddening for me, but so hard for a real child like Aurra Sing to cope with. With my adult intellect and maturity, I grasp that Dark Woman is so cruel to be the most helpfully kind. Block a blaster-bolt aimed at your Padawan's head, you save their life today. Ramp up the deflection practice-droids stinger until it's capable of causing minor blistering during training, and you save their life countless times in future.
I drop deeper and deeper into the flow of the Force as the kata sequences grow more complex. Which eventually ends the conscious musings for now, as the subtle song of the Light grows ever more intricate and attention consuming. Until I am but one tuning fork, struck again and again from varying angles with varying degrees of intensity.
The almost imperceptible thump of the courier setting down rouses me from the depths of my meditation. Looking around me as if I'd just ceased daydreaming and begun concentrating intently once more, I note with relief the residual tension caused by the infuriatingly vague precognitive dream-fragments has been washed away. I soundlessly murmured "Flowing through all, There is Balance."
Living as a Padawan of the Jedi Order, and as someone who really; truly touches the Force in an undeniable way all the time, I grasped with perfect clarity how fifty-one percent of the ancient Je'daii came up with "There is no Emotion, There is Peace." The song of the Light literally feels like a river of solid tranquility flowing through your body and mind. If I'd really been scooped up by a Jedi Seeker and brought to the Temple creches as a baby, or even been taken on like the real Anakin as a child, I would never in a million, billion, trillion years question beings as wise and obviously good as Qui-Gon Jinn or Yoda when it came to the Jedi Code.
Unfortunately for anyone with hopes of an Orthodox Chosen One, I'd seen the movies, read a great many novels, and actually given a great deal of thought to what this troubled era in the Galaxy Far Far Away really did mean for the Jedi. What it should have meant, and how the differences between did and should impacted both the Jedi and the Republic as a whole.
Everyone wanted to blame the Jedi for the tire-fire which was the Fall of the Republic-era, but the truth was the Jedi didn't write the horrible laws which turned half the galaxy into something to be exploited by the other half. A Senate hopelessly beholden to mega-corporations that made the likes of Apple and Microsoft look like Mom & Pop corner-stores had done that. Rule-by-the-Force had been tried, and it had very nearly destroyed the galaxy. Instead, the Jedi had stepped back after Ruusan and tried to give the galaxy the opportunity to heal. Only involving themselves when they had a mandate from the people. I mean; yes, the Order had grown somewhat ossified because of millennia spent in what amounted to a bunker-mentality, but the tragedy of this era wasn't that Darth Sidious perverted the Republic into some kind of dark and twisted inversion of it's true self.
No, it was infinitely sadder and more depressing than that. The Sith gained their long-sought revenge upon the Jedi by becoming part of the Republic hyper-elite, whereas their enemies held themselves apart. Actively encouraging the people in a position to effect change to live down to their lowest, most base impulses. While the Jedi by contrast offered a righteous, moral example to emulate, but didn't really do anything to encourage that emulation.
Aside from that, the only thing I could still find it in my heart to criticize the Jedi over was their being a little too rigid and dogmatic concerning their own members. Obi-Wan Kenobi so famously said "Only Sith deal in absolutes." Yet what was a rule which demanded every single member of the Order have zero emotional attachments except an absolute? Clearly, all the Altisian Jedi didn't fall to the Dark Side because they permitted themselves abiding friendships and lasting romantic relationships, so in the face of this unequivocal empirical reality I felt a more appropriate position would be "Care should be taken concerning emotional attachments, because they can be an instigator for powerful feelings of fear and anger. Becoming potential avenues to the Dark Side for the unwary and ill-prepared." Hypocrisies like permitting the Master of the Order and his short-list of favored ones to use the Dark Side via Vaapad didn't help, either. If certain bits of Force-lore were too dangerous for the vast majority of Jedi, then they were too dangerous, period.
Ultimately, it was things like this that left the Jedi needing a second chance. They'd done, and were still doing, so much good. Yet they were also in need of a shake-up big enough to cause some positions which had been offered unthinking acceptance to be questioned. Ideally, I would find a way to stop Sidious and prevent him from erasing millennia of Light-lore. Every time I considered the scraps Luke's New Order had been forced to start over with, and the absolutely tiny number of Jedi his Order was able to muster after more than a century; I wanted to break down and weep. There had to be a way to combine the glories of the Old and the insights of the New in the process of stopping the Sith. All I had to do was figure it out.
Assuming, of course, that Bolq or Maul didn't carve me into cutlets, Palpatine didn't talk me round to becoming a baby-killer, or my own clone troopers didn't fill me full of holes.
"There is no Peace, Without a Passion to Create" I wordlessly reflected. Turning to grab my pack and attach it to the rear of my belt, then falling into step beside my Master as we walked down the ramp onto the planet's surface.
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Now hauling a small carrier which reminded me a great deal of one of those wheeled suitcases with the extendable handles, my breath caught in my chest as I viewed organic structures far too magnificent to merely call trees. Growing literally hundreds, if not fifteen hundred or two thousand feet in the air, the mega-trees looked to me like something out of a high fantasy novel. Each of the mega-trees was easily thirty feet around, and their canopies interlocked in such a way as to create a green shield which completely cut off the ground below from the sky above. My Master had landed our ship in one of the few gaps in said canopy I could see, because she'd detected a large concentration of people, and a large number of structures in this immediate area. At least that's what she told me as we walked.
For being in what amounted to a cross between a jungle and a redwood forest on growth hormones, the ground was remarkably flat. I could see immense specimens of fungi interspersed among the trees, and greenery of all varieties was everywhere, but it didn't crowd in as riots of uncontrolled growth in the way you might have expected. I began to wonder if someone cleared this area to keep it easy to traverse, but was soon distracted from such idle musing by what I could only call a pronounced itch in my head.
The itch quickly grew to become like something scratching at my mind from the outside. A cat scratching at a door to be let in would not have been an inaccurate description of the sensation, and it scared me immediately. Telling Dark Woman about what was happening seemed like a very good idea, so I did just that as I minded my breathing and did my best to control my fear.
The Jedi Master looked at me strangely as I reported my experience, but she didn't dispute my claims or tell me I was letting my imagination run away with me. "Anakin, I don't have your natural sensitivity, but I can tell the planet we are standing on is indeed as alive as the report stated. Perhaps your presence in the Force has caught the attention of some element of this planet-organism's biology. You aren't showing any of the warning signs for possession, and your ability to reason seems unimpaired by anything more than your natural anxiety, so I suggest you simply work to calm your emotions. Remember Vinrae's technique for doing so. It's always proven particularly effective for you in the past."
My impression of the whatever-it-was doing the scratching was of something unthinkably vast. Vast on a scale I didn't have units of measurement for. It made all these trees and all the fungi, birds, insects, and the larger animals we caught glimpses of once in awhile all put together seem like a single grain of sand. I was cataloging responses like my racing heartbeat, sweaty palms, temples, back of my neck, and my rapid breathing, so my attention was divided enough I didn't notice the new impressions approaching as quickly as my Master did. My first clue people were out there in the green among the trees and undergrowth was Dark Woman calling out a greeting to them in Basic.
Several green-skinned men and women with black or white hair emerged from the trees. Each looked quite human except for their skin color, and the fact the women were the same approximately six foot height as the men. All were dressed in light, loose-fitting garments in greens and browns suitable for such a warm and humid environment, and all carried packs or tools which marked them as members of an industrious, advanced civilization. Synthetic materials, machined implements, datapads or scanners, and heavy blaster pistols in evidence on most hips. Silently, I wondered if the local wildlife was dangerous enough to justify such heavy armaments, or if the troubles requiring such means of defense came from outsiders.
One man stepped to the front of the group. He looked us both up and down, then offhandedly introduced himself as Gann, then remarked before asking "You don't possess a client-droid. Have you come in search of a ship?" His tone seemed relaxed enough, but I had the sense Gann and the others were feeling rather guarded and anxious, but trying hard not to show it.
Dark Woman pointed to the case I was hauling, then courteously replied "Our Order sent us to learn about the amazing ships that originate here, acquire one of these vessels if possible, and locate one of our missing members. She was sent here for the same reasons about a year ago, but never returned, so we've grown as concerned about her as you might imagine."
When she said "about a year ago" I caught a discordant and sharply unpleasant notes from Gann and several of the others I associated with fear and worry. I had no idea what about my Master's statements might have triggered such strong negative emotions in much of the group. Until Gann's narrow and pronounced features twisted into an expression of sadness and frustration, as he replied "Many have not been seen since the Far Outsiders tried to steal our world and our Magister helped guide Sekot to fight back against the invaders. Many were injured or killed, and much of Zonama's northern regions will remain scarred for centuries. I remember an alien armed as the two of you are armed, but I could not tell you where she has gone, or even if she yet lives. Perhaps those who craft and shape in the Middle Distance know what happened to her."
Quickly as the scratching sensation had come, it vanished just as quickly. I breathed an audible sigh of relief at this development. One I heard echoed by Dark Woman a moment later, as she murmured "Are you all right, Anakin?"
"Better, Master. Whatever that was, it seems to have stopped." I'd recovered my equilibrium with the disappearance of the mysterious entity's prying, and now was curious about what Gann had said concerning Vergere. I'd caught nearly all of that, but didn't know why Dark Woman seemed so concerned all of a sudden.
"We thank you for the advice, Gann. Since we are in fact in the market for a vessel, could you advise us as to how we should proceed?" My Master's normally fairly taciturn demeanor had disappeared. Replaced by this genial, courteous and diplomatic seeming. It seemed to put the natives more at ease, because their point man's response was direct and to the point.
"Our sky-ship is nearby. If you'd be willing to wait for the others to make their assessments of the local bora, you would be welcome to fly back with us. I advise leaving your off-world vessel here among such old and settled bora. The bora of the Middle Distance are younger and more easily disturbed by off-world things. More likely to construe the presence of such a large and unfamiliar object as a threat, and shock it with their conductive defense-fronds. These bora have grown accustomed to the comings and goings of small off-world vessels, so unless your ship does something to harm the great creatures, they will do nothing to harm your ship." Gann's remarks were made with the certainty of an expert speaking in their field, and seemed to be taken as such by my Master.
It wasn't a long wait beneath the trees. I spent the time trying to get a read on the various green-skinned folk and just what they were doing. Finding out from Dark Woman they were all Ferroans, and figuring out for myself that several of the small and very strange-looking animals in the trees and fungi were actually somehow linked to the trees. I couldn't have explained the how of it to you to save my life, but I would have bet the million credits in aurodium ingots that I was lugging that this was so.
Soon, we were being escorted to what appeared to be a high-tech dirigible. It had to have some repulsor technology tucked away somewhere out of sight, because no mere blimp breaks the damned sound barrier, as this thing did once it finished accelerating to it's cruising velocity. The capsule our seats were located in had large windows one could look out of, and at first the sight below was merely more and more unbroken green canopy, with clearings as rare as they were small appearing hither and yon. I turned back to the capsule's occupants for a moment and noticed most of the Ferroans seemed quite subdued in our presence. What little talking they did among themselves was quiet and almost furtive. It gave me an uneasy feeling I eased by turning my attention back to the topography visible out the window.
Outside, the canopy of intertwined bora branches had ended abruptly. Revealing a sizable settlement surrounded by the great trees on all sides, as narrow roads thread away from it to terminate in specific areas among the nearby bora for reasons I could only guess at. Our dirigible craft sets down in a landing zone within the settlement's center. Prompting Gann to approach us once more and request we follow him as everyone disembarks. Dark Woman acquiesces to this suggestion, and we're quickly escorted into the midst of a large, clean, highly organized town. There are few colors beyond natural greens and browns on or among the various buildings, but I guess it's the deeply naturalistic motif the Ferroans seem to have going on.
Gann guided us to a nondescript building I couldn't discern as being much different from any of the others until we were all inside. At which point it became clear we were in something which seemed to be a cross between a hotel and a hostel. After introducing us to the clerk behind the main counter near the entrance, then explaining to the man we were prospective clients of the Ship Builders, we were quickly issued two simple metal keys with room numbers on them. The clerk took over the explanations as Gann drifted off without any real farewell. Explaining there was what amounted to a breakfast buffet in the main area behind him each morning, and that it was complimentary for prospective clients. On the off chance we were in the building later in the day, we could ring the desk and have something delivered to our rooms.
Dark Woman thanked the clerk, then we proceeded to our two rooms standing side by side. I hauled the aurodium filled case into my Master's room, then turned to head for my own. Before I could exit her room, however, the old Jedi stopped me.
"Are you going to be all right on your own, Anakin?" Her question didn't have any condescending overtones. It was simply an expression of concern because of what happened earlier.
"I should be fine, Master. I'm just planning on continuing with my TK exercises, or meditating on the meaning of the strange glowing lines I've sees through people, places, and things if one manifests. It's all still so blurry and without any rhyme or reason I've been able to discern. I have more on our current training itinerary to do than hours to pursue it all in. You know you never have to prod me to work on increasing my understanding of the Force's applications" I responded with genuine enthusiasm I was allowing to push out the memory of the vastness which had been scratching at the surface of my mind.
"I sometimes think I should have done more to encourage you to pursue the path of a Jedi Consular. Then I recall your even greater enthusiasm for the Forms, and remember things develop as they should whenever we trust in the Force to show us how to proceed. If you're sure you're all right, then" Dark Woman replied gently. It was an uncharacteristic demonstration of almost maternal concern, and it brought a small smile to my face.
"If I have anymore trouble, I'll come to you immediately, Master. I, I hope you know I never mistake your harsh methods for your being harsh with me." There, I had been meaning to make that clear for some time, and felt proud of myself for doing so.
Nodding instead of immediately replying, Dark Woman's voice was quiet, almost somber, as she replied "It's never a necessary part of the process, but it isn't unpleasant when one of you realizes as much. I only, never you mind, Anakin. I am not yet particularly tired, so I will be meditating for at least the next couple of hours. If you require any assistance with the goals on your itinerary, please don't feel hesitant to come and get me just because we're in a new place."
Taking these words as the dismissal they were, I slipped from the room without another word. I had absolutely no doubt my Master was thinking of a nine year old girl she felt she'd failed. Just as I knew there wasn't anything I could possibly do to make her feel the least little bit better about her former Padawan having become a hopelessly deranged and downright evil Jedi-hunter.
Some nights it paid to be the Padawan and not the Master. Something I considered for a long while as I returned to my own room and got back to work.