The Weaving Force: Chapter 13 (Patreon)

Chapter 13:

“Gladdened I am- to see you well.”

“For a given definition.” The voice is smooth, measured, like a perfectly aged brandy or polished oak. “I never intended to return to the Temple, but circumstances and a clear and blatant manipulation of the truth has brought me here.”

—

“Now who can tell me what is the Agri-Corps?”

A hustle, small voices murmuring, hands rising

“Yes Solena-”

“The Agri-Corps or the Agricultural Corps, is one of the four branches of the Jedi Service Corps. It is the largest of the four corps.”

“And, Dakken, can you tell me what its primary functions are?”

A stuttering, hesitant response.

“Ahh, well… the Agri corp… farms?”

“Johena. Give us a better answer.”

“They plant edible plant life across various worlds, and also conduct research which is filed into the Jedi archives. Members focus on cul- cu- cultivation skills that help in plant growth. Their research focuses on botany, geology and the study of fauna and Xeno-ecosystems.

“Where are the Agri corps facilities?”

“Ukio, Taanab, Marfa, Bandomeer and Dilonexa”

“Dilonexa Twenty-Three. Thank you Jacen.”

—

“... Angry, you are.”

“Disappointed. And dismayed at the state of things,” came the retort. “That I must come here to ask the truth of you in person… I’ve found, outside the bounds of the Temple, that one can have the right to be angry, my Master.”

“Hmm… dangerous, such thinking is”

“But it is the truth.” There was a conviction there. An immovable wall that would not back down.

Silence settled between the two men.

“What happened?”

—

“Have you ever felt like you’ve made a terrible Mistake, and yet you do not know how to take it back, Master Koon?”

“It is never too late to correct mistakes, Master Galia. Come. Sit with me… I assume this has to do with the recent… developments around young Tachi.”

“Do you disagree with our decisions?”

…

“I cannot help but feel I’ve made a terrible error, Master Koon”

—

“Know what happened, you do. To Naboo your Padawan went. Involved in the fighting he became-”

“I know what the reports say.” The retort cut off the ancient speaker. “And I know what they don’t say. I see no autopsy report, I see no identity of the one who slew him, no testimony from Padawan Kenobi. I see censored reports from other witnesses, classified documents around the time the party of the Queen separated from Qui-Gon and Kenobi. I recognize when the Senate and the Order wish to sweep some… undesirable facts under the rug.”

—

The sound of sobbing, hidden away in the corners of the temple.

“Now what is this? Why these tears? Hmm?”

“M-Master Yaddle!”

“There is no reason for tears, little one. Come, sit with me, and better we will make things.”

More sniffles, small hands wiping at a runny face.

“I’m not going to become a Jedi, am I, Master?”

“Hmm? Know this do you?”

“I’m twelve, Master Yaddle… Twelve. And no Master has ever come and shown even a little interest! I’ll be thirteen in just one year. I’m about to fail!”

“To age is to fail? Master Yoda and I, greatest failures of the Jedi then we are.”

“You know what I mean, Master! I’m going to be sent to the service corps!”

“A failing that is?”

“It means I can’t be a Jedi. It means I don’t have the Force. Not like you or the other Padawans.”

“Hmm… I see.” A shift in the seat, drawing closer.

“A promise I will make you.”

“What, Master Yaddle?”

—

“Regrettable the events on Dagonet were- That I do not contest. Much pain they caused you. But Dagonet; this is not. Raxus- This. Is. Not.”

“But it is the same outcome. The Order has mistaken cooperation for servitude, and assistance with blind obedience. What Senator sent my Padawan to his death? Whom is the order protecting this time?”

—

“You must learn to feel the Force within yourself. Mind your feelings. They’ll only serve to distract you.”

A helmet is pulled off and clatters to the floor. Frustration colors the voice that replies, “But Master, this doesn’t make sense! You want me to focus within, but when I do that what I’m focusing on are my feelings! I can’t just focus inward and think blank thoughts, Master!”

“I-” A scoff of frustration. “Anakin-”

—

“Know you do, that such an act the Jedi would not commit.”

“Then answer my question! I am asking you. No one else. Not the Council. Not a committee hearing or an inquiry. You. My master. What happened to Qui-Gon? What happened to my Padawan?”

(X)(X)(X)

On and on the information came, a steady stream of names, places, concepts, ideas, frustrations, doubts, joys. On and on she listened. She could close her eyes and hear it all, rapidly gathering all the goings on and happenings within the temple walls.

A tap on her shoulder almost yanked her back into her body. She’d been so focussed on the Temple and people around her. She breathed sharply through her nostrils as she came back to herself, blinking before she turned to see Vicky smiling at her.

“Hey, I wanna explore this place a bit,” the other girl said. “I think we’re allowed. Wanna come with?”

A part of her wanted to say no, to remain here and focus on everything. The other part didn’t actually want Vicky to head off alone in this strange place. These were not kindly Wookies. Far more races. Far more secrets. And secrets sometimes meant danger.

Vicky could take care of herself, but no that was no reason to risk her one friend here in this strange Temple full of strange people.

Taylor nodded, gesturing for Vicky to wait so she could shower and change.

The Dallon heroine smiled brightly.

(X)(X)(X)

Vicky

When they exited their rooms, it was in the clothes offered by the Temple. Like the clothing from Kashyyyk, Vicky didn’t recognize the material, but it was thick like wool and sublimely soft as high thread-count cotton, warm but somehow breathable enough so as not to be suffocating.

She preferred the Wookie fabrics, but that dress was being cleaned right now, so Jedi “guest clothes” would do fine for now.

Taylor had chosen simpler clothes from those provided,, going for a much thinner shirt and pants combo, grays and blacks; colors that did not help her pale complexion at all. It made her look too pale. And not in the Goth girl way either.

Vicky was starting to get the distinct impression that Tay didn’t know how to use colors and fashion to her advantage at all. If in a few more days the former villain didn’t start wearing more complementary clothes, Vicky was gonna have to take drastic measures!

It was gonna be fun!

But for now, glorious nosin- err… exploration! For great Justice!

All jokes aside, the Temple was impressive. Like… walk through the Vatican impressive. It was so grand it made her feel small, and walking through the halls where all the other Jedi were either talking, reading or ‘meditating’ (though she was sure more than a few were just napping) made the place feel warm, almost like a college campus.

She and Tay drew curious looks, especially from the older Jedi who seemed to do genuine doubletakes at the sight of them. You’d think they hadn’t seen new people in the Temple before.

But she didn’t let that bother her too much; exploration was today’s objective, so explore she did.

Surprisingly, Taylor led the way most of the time. Following her, they found classrooms for kids, Jedi training rooms where other kids were practicing martial arts, gardens, a gorgeous room with hundreds or maybe even thousands of fountains, a library, and reading rooms (and Vicky did note those longing glances Tay was tossing those particular rooms as they left), balconies that offered gorgeous views of the immense, impossibly sized city, and even a freaking museum.

Moving through the halls, Vicky only just noticed Taylor’s arm snake around her wrist, trying to stop her from moving when-

“Oh my!”

Vicky’s other wrist smacked into something, a clatter of plastic impacts on the marble floor made her reel back.

An alien, looking like a cross between a baboon and a parrot was there, a collection of pads scattered across the floor in front of him.

The alien, who seemed like an old man to her untrained eye, smiled, his eyes closing with a kindly look to them. “Forgive me. These eyes aren’t what they used to be.”

“No, no, I’m sorry, totally my fault!” She apologized, moving quickly to start picking up the pads. “My head was in the clouds. I wasn’t looking where I was going!” Tay had seen the man approaching from around the corner, how out of it did Vicky have to be?

“It is quite alright, no harm done,” The wizened Jedi assured, kneeling down ever so slowly to pick up a single datapad by the time Vicky had gotten all of them stacked up in her hands.

Seeing the old Jedi move, Vicky offered a tentative smile. “Well, sorry again anyway. I’m Victoria Dallon. And this is Taylor.” She gestured with her head towards the brunette.

The old alien bowed. “I am Master Sinube. A pleasure to meet you, Miss Dallon.”

She nodded. “Were you taking these somewhere? I can carry ‘em for you. Me and Tay were just exploring, so we’re not really busy.”

“Exploring?” Sinube blinked, “Oh, you are Master Yoda’s guests. Silly of me; I should have known.”

“Huh.” She blinked and turned her eyes to Taylor.

The brunette caught her look and then mimed with her hand ‘talking’ and signaled around them.

So people had been talking about them.

“Word travels fast,” she guessed.

Sinube huffed a laugh.

“I’m afraid nothing moves faster in our temple. We should be dedicated to the Force, but it seems the younglings so prefer gossip over their studies,” he said, beginning to walk.

Vicky smiled, following after him, sensing something of an opportunity.

“You know,” she began hesitantly, hoping she wouldn’t misstep into some sort of taboo, super sensitive question,  “I’ve been hearing you guys going on and on about the Force, but no one’s given me a straight answer on what exactly it is yet.”

At that, she noted Tay’s increased interest behind her.

“Hmm.” Sinube seemed surprised, but not outraged at the statement. “Oh? Well, we’ll have something to discuss on our way to the library, then.”

(X)(X)(X)

Mace Windu

Contrary to popular belief, the Jedi council did not sit on lofty thrones all day discussing matters of the Force to the exclusion of everything else. Masters had duties to attend and the presumptive Grandmaster of the Order even moreso.

Reading reports from the four Jedi Service Corps and clearing new tasks or granting priority was one such duty, managing the finances of the temple was another.

Reviewing Medi-corps reports on all Jedi Knights, Masters, Shadows, Temple guards and others that required their assistance along with Mission reports was yet another.

Master Yoda woke up before the sun rose, when he was Head of the Council, and dedicated the whole of his mornings to oversee these menial tasks.

Mace tried to follow his example as much as he could. However, Yoda knew and had trained many of the people who reported to him, so he could very easily speed read through most of his reports unless something truly urgent was occurring, simply because he knew how his students ‘sounded’ when they were distressed or pleased in their work. This was an advantage Mace currently lacked, so he had to read much more carefully.

In short, despite his best efforts, Mace was having trouble filling Master Yoda’s shoes, administratively. As well as in every other respect, he felt.

But such a thing was expected; he’d known that it would be difficult, if not impossible, to live up to Yoda’s easy mastery of his role as the Head of the Council.

He was not frustrated by this, but he did at times feel dismayingly overwhelmed.

A feeling he knew the other Jedi Council members were experiencing as well, facing their own increased workloads as Master Yoda retired by steps,  withdrawing more and more to prepare the Temple for his eventual passing.

By the time he broke away from the swamp of reports, finances, medical recommendations, and other such necessary administrative oversight, he realized it was just a little before noon, and Master Yoda’s guests still needed to be interviewed and examined by the Jedi council.

Making his way out of his office, he was pleased to find Master Plo Koon.

“Ahh, Master Koon. Good day.”

“Master Windu,” Koon nodded, bowing politely, “I was hoping I might have a moment of your time.”

“Of course,” he answered, gesturing for them to walk and talk. A council meeting was scheduled in less than an hour; whatever this discussion was, Koon seemed to wish it to remain private.

“I believe we need to revisit the council’s decision regarding Siri Tachi,” Master Koon began.

Windu took a breath. “Her Master consented. Siri herself consented,” he argued. “While it is… distasteful, we are monitoring the situation. You know that we wouldn’t simply throw her to the wolves.”

“I understand,” Koon said, his voice polite but carrying that firmness that told Windu his fellow Master would not back down. “But I’m afraid I must bring it up again and protest it again. The decision was made out of expedience, not careful consideration. Siri’s age, the danger it presents-”

“She is almost a fully fledged Knight,” Mace pointed out. “These can and will be her trials.”

“I would not subject a Master to such a trial!” Koon countered. “Undercover work in a slaver ring for one so young is not something I can condone, and I fear the precedent we are setting if I don't protest!”

“Master Galia believes her to be ready.” He understood Koon’s objections - truly, he did - but Master Galia knew Tachi better than anyone.

“Can it really be called consent, Master Windu, if it was felt that there was no choice at all?”

Mace opened his mouth, then shut it again, a grim line overtaking his features.  “We did not pressure their decision!” he protested.

“Not intentionally. But you know as well as I that when the council asks, it is difficult for the dutiful to say, ‘no.’”

Mace couldn’t, in good faith, disagree.

“We will bring this up at the Council meeting,” he conceded.

Master Koon bowed. “Thank you Master Windu. That’s all I can ask.”

Mace had a feeling the Kel Door Master could and would ask for a lot more than that. But he wouldn’t begrudge him. Koon was an exceptional Master, and if Mace were honest, in some ways a better candidate for Grandmaster than even himself. His opinions, even those he disagreed with, were worth listening to.

As he reached the guest wing of the temple, Mace felt that it was empty before he even reached the door.

Closing his eyes, he spread his senses.

Luckily, the oddity that was the signature of the temple guests was easy to find, and luckily not too far away in the Library.

“Ahh. Master Yoda’s guests,” Plo-Koon guessed. “I assume that is what we will be discussing in the council meeting.”

Mace nodded. “Yes. Their situation is rather… unique. Master Yoda believes the Council can help.”

“Have you met them?” the Kel Door asked.

“I have. Briefly,” Mace admitted. “Human, young. One seemed kind enough. The other…” He trailed off.

What he’d sensed from the dark haired girl had not been kindness. In truth, it worried Windu deeply. A tightly coiled augur of anger and pain. So much pain…

Yes. He was very worried, indeed, when it came to the dark haired girl.

“Do not judge a Joor-ei by its scales,” Master Koon posed, a light amusement in his tone.

Windu wouldn’t beleaguer the point arguing that those emotions weren’t just “skin deep”

Reaching the library, they found the two girls they were searching for with none other than Master Sinube.

“So from what you’re describing,” the blonde girl - Dallon - put forward hesitantly as she slid a datapad back into place on the library archives, “is that this Force thing is like… an intelligent mystical energy, that surrounds us, is inside of us. And gives you superpowers if you're special enough?”

“Correct!” Master Sinube answered, delighted.

The other girl - Taylor - seemed intrigued by the discussion, though, as ever, she was silent.

Master Windu found the explanation rather crude, but… fundamentally  not incorrect, strictly speaking.

Then, Miss Dallon continued.

“Huh…that kinda sounds like a really weird combo of a stalker, sugar daddy, and Santa all in one. It could at least buy me dinner first!”

Mace nearly tripped over a chair. He was fairly sure Master Plo somehow choked on his own breathing, and Master Sinube coughed and wheezed something that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.