- Location
- Russia
Not precisely. But this is precisely why it is a 4th dimensional pun
The Weaving Force
- Thread starter LD1449
- Start date
-
- Tags
- star wars worm alexandria crossover
- Location
- Te Ika-a-Māui
- Pronouns
- She/Her
I would not put it past a panicking Vicky to assume "Jedi" is just the local term for "parahuman".
YuffieK
(Verified Ninja Princess)
More to the point. Whatever act of ROB sent our Earth Bet adventurers to a galaxy far, far away was not kind.
Taylor has BOTH sets of memories. Or she has her normal memories and QA keeps trying to overwrite them with the last Khepri backup.
Yoda's... probably the best person for the job of keeping Taylor semi-sane right now, but given he's the only one available for said job.
Taylor has BOTH sets of memories. Or she has her normal memories and QA keeps trying to overwrite them with the last Khepri backup.
Yoda's... probably the best person for the job of keeping Taylor semi-sane right now, but given he's the only one available for said job.
...
Yoda will teach Vicky to control her aura, no matter how many sticks takes.
Last edited:
Chapter 8
LD1449
To the last; Kill them all
- Location
- The other side of the labyrinth.
Chapter 8:
Clockblocker
Shmi's home was… larger than he'd expected.
Dennis studied history - well, obviously, he went to school after all - but back to the point, he'd seen a preserved southern plantation once. The 'housing' given to the slaves were barns at best, hovels at worst.
Shmi's house looked and felt like a home. A living room, two bedrooms, a bathroom and a workshop - or at least he assumed it was a workshop: There was a table, and tools, and spare droid parts, though they all looked a bit dusty.
"Really, please don't trouble yourself."
Miss Militia's voice drew Dennis's eyes back towards the woman who was busily setting up some bedding for them on the couch and floor. Blankets, pillows and bunched up sheets.
"It's no trouble," Shmi reassured. "I offered you my home. I'll hardly allow you to sleep on the stones."
"At least let me help-" Miss Militia tried again, only for her hands to be lightly swatted away as they drew close.
Shmi offered Militia a small, wry little smile. "It's quite alright. You're my guests. I've missed having children to dote on."
Miss Militia raised an eyebrow. "You don't seem much older than me, miss."
"No, I suppose not," she said, though that small, barely there smile remained.
Miss Militia sighed.
"You deal with a lot of kids?" The question made both women turn to him, and Dennis stared at them both for a moment before shrugging. "Just wondering," he said, shifting a bit from foot to foot. "Was that, like, your job or…?"
"No," she answered with that calm placidity, fluffing the pillows. "I'm afraid I'm not lively enough to bring up the creche younglings of the larger estates." Dennis cringed - though Shmi didn't see it - wondering not for the first time just how deeply embedded in this planet and society slaves had to be for them to… basically be grown communally by the sound of it. "I was speaking of my own son."
"Where is he?" Miss Militia asked, before she seemed to catch herself. "Ahh, I'm sorry I hope he's not… been taken from you-"
Sold, Dennis thought. She means sold.
"He was," Shmi said, but her smile only grew as she spoke, "taken offworld, by Jedi, where he can live a free life, and be good and true in a way Tattoine would not allow."
"They didn't take you as well?" Miss Militia asked, settling in her seat as Shmi finished her project on crafting two beds for them.
"One promised to return; but it's enough that they took him," she said, and while her voice was gentle there was a firmness to it now. A true, genuine belief that her son being taken from slavery and not her was more than enough. "I will be a slave for my whole life and will be happy with that knowledge."
"I see," Miss Militia said - almost whispered, really - shifting where she stood.
Again, Dennis decided to cut in. "Who are the Jedi?"
Again, both women turned to him.
Again, he shrugged.
Playing the ignorant, blunt foreigner came rather easy.
Gee.
Shmi, however, raised an eyebrow. "I'd have thought everyone would know of the Jedi Order," she said. "They're rare. But you hear stories of the guardians of peace and order, even here on Tatooine. Men and women capable of great, impossible feats. Wielders of swords of light who protect innocent people and bring justice to those who commit evil acts."
His eyes shifted towards Miss Militia, and hers shifted to meet his.
That sounded a bit like the 'Protectorate' on the surface.
"Where exactly are you from that you haven't heard of them?"
"Far, far, far away." Dennis smiled. "Little blue planet. Mostly ocean."
Shmi's eyes went up to the ceiling. "I've heard of oceans… I can't imagine so much water."
And he'd stuck his foot in his mouth… again.
(X)(X)(X)
Alexandria:
Transporting the two Rodians without letting them know she herself was their 'transport" was tricky.
Normally she'd just knock them out, but she knew nothing about Rodian Physiology. Choking off their air could be fatal, their skulls could be significantly softer or harder than human skulls and so her attempts to non lethally knock them out might just kill them by accident.
So she improvised.
Taking their shirts and jackets and using them to wrap the prisoners' heads so they couldn't see and could barely hear, she blinded their most obvious senses. Then, tying their arms behind them, she jammed a metal rod between their arms and their backs.
Then she grabbed the bar and lifted.
No doubt it was uncomfortable, no doubt their arms, if they were in any way similar to humans, would arrive with strained tendons or outright dislocation. But the job was done, and the secret of the flying strong woman was 'kept' as best as she could manage.
Reaching the Bounty broker was simple, and when she arrived the cavalcade of other bounty hunters and bar goers gave her a wide berth as she physically dragged the two beaten, disoriented Rodians behind her.
The Broker, with a look on his face she could read easily, spoke with a smile, even as his micro-expressions told her a different story.
"Found 'em, did you?"
She nodded. "I did." She focused on reading the things he wasn't saying as opposed to listening to what he did. "They gave my friend trouble."
The man leaned forward, plucking his glass off the table before drinking. "So I'm guessing that's why we're roughing 'em up a bit?"
She kept looking, kept reading. Her memory going over what she remembered of her interactions with the man and coming up blank.
So, she decided to be direct. "You disapprove."
A twitch, surprise, then a look, more calculating, assessing; unused to being 'read' accurately.
The broker stood up, marching around his table. "You're probably too young to remember," He said and she almost huffed out a laugh "But there was a time when Bounty Hunting wasn't the equivalent of a thug with a license to hurt people."
He reached down, unfurling the makeshift facebindings she'd made for the Rodians. The aliens blinked, their eyes seemingly adjusting to the light as they began to breathe more rapidly.
Ahh… apparently Rodian's 'don't enjoy' the absence of light.
Information that could be useful la-
She caught herself, the thought sticking in her brain uncomfortably.
"Yes well-" She rallied, even as she gave no indication of the discomfiting realization externally. "Thug or not. The job's done. They're alive as well. The payment?"
The broker's lips twisted, not quite pursed, and not quite a smirk either, more exasperation, or resignation than anything else.
He reached behind his waist, pulling free some scanning device and a small device, no bigger than a USB stick.
The scanner blinked and beeped once. "Three thousand credit chit," he said, before holding it out to her. "Don't spend it all in one place."
"No promises," she 'joked,' knowing she might need to use this place again before too long. Best to keep things… amicable.
The broker snorted, then turned and walked back towards his booth and his drink.
Alexandria turned and marched out.
(X)(X)(X)
Outside, the Triumvirate member allowed herself a slow, deep breath, marching through the quiet, moonlit streets of Anchorhead - her thoughts running quickly.
She was no stranger to brutality, it was true. During her long long years as Alexandria, as an agent of Cauldron, she's become intimately familiar with the depths humanity can sink to, can be made to sink to.
She knew she was no longer a kind person. Most days, she could scarcely lie to herself enough to call herself good. Not like Keith is, or Duncan had been.
But she always knew it served a purpose. It was for a good reason. The salvation of humanity.
The pain the Rodians had felt hadn't been by design. She didn't know their physiology, their biology. Hell, that was the very reason she had blinded them that way in the first place. The way she'd transported them was out of efficiency and the need for secrecy…but not out of cruelty.
Those things didn't bother her. She couldn't let them bother her.
No. What bothered her, what cut into the armor of necessity she'd grown so used to wearing had been that sharp, disquieting thought after she discovered what that sensory deprivation had done to them.
The broker had looked at it like a petty torture. Unnecessary.
Her first thought had been… that it could be useful later.
Even if, objectively, she knew that it could be - that they might meet other Rodian criminals, or perhaps even be asked to rescue other Rodians or other species similar to them and that sensory deprivation might affect them differently and that information could be useful in any number of ways - that hadn't been why she thought it.
No. She was honest enough to admit that her first thought was that such a thing could be useful if she needed to torture a Rodian in the future.
For that to be her first thought…
"Because knowing what I know about you; you not killing them would have been more surprising."
The Ward's words came back, bright and clear.
She'd long grown used to the thought of necessity of the ends justifying the means but there were no ends here. There was no necessity in the thought.
Had she grown so used to it that necessity had ceased to be necessary for her? That simple expedience or worse, convenience would suffice?
It was an… uncomfortable possibility.
She didn't need sleep. Not anymore. But she sought it out anyway.
The silence would be welcome.
(X)(X)(X)
Miss Militia
"Pssst. Miss M. You awake?"
Hannah allowed one weary eye to slide open.
She didn't need to sleep, but after the last few days, between the stress, the worry, the fear and everything else… yes. She could admit that sleep was welcome right now, even if it brought her dreams.
"Yes, Dennis," she answered quietly from her place on the couch. "Something on your mind?"
Stupid question. Doubtless there was plenty on his mind. He'd been holding himself together remarkably well, but the dam seemed to just about be ready to crack.
"Just wondering if you're ok."
That… made her raise an eyebrow.
"What?"
"Are you ok?" he asked again. "I noticed you looked a little… pissed when you brought the Rodians back, figured you might want to talk."
The gloom of the night hid the details of Shmi's home right now, but she stared up at the ceiling regardless in blinking disbelief.
"I'm… alright," she answered slowly. "I don't like… this, Dennis. Bounty Hunting. It feels too much like hurting people for money. Not a cause like protecting people, or being heroes. It's just… Hunt for cash."
"Well… we gotta get home," he whispered back. "It's the only way to get back to that place where we can protect people and be heroes."
He was right. Didn't change that it made her feel dirty.
She closed her eyes, and the image of the dead human, Weequay, and Trandoshan stared back at her, bodies bleeding and broken.
"What about you?" she sidestepped. "I can't imagine this has been easy for you."
"Easier than for you I think," he whispered. "...But no. Not easy," he finally admitted. "We're in space. With aliens and spaceships and laser guns and all this crazy stuff. A part of me is saying, 'Wow… wait til I tell everyone about this back home.' Then… the other part of me wonders if home is still there."
She stiffened. "Why would you think it's not?"
Dennis went quiet.
She was about to ask again when he spoke.
"Just… being stupid, I guess," he mumbled. "I'm not sure what happened, or when. But… you're right. Home has to still be there."
Hannah swallowed. "You know you can talk to me Dennis… I'm not just your CO, I'd like to think I'm your friend too."
"Yeah. I know Miss M," he whispered back. "It's just… this is crazy. And every time I feel I've got a handle on it…" He trailed off. "I feel like I'm losing my mind."
She understood. "I know. And I understand." She nodded. "But again… if you ever need to talk… we're in this together. Alright?"
"Yeah, Miss M," he sighed. "At the risk of sounding like a selfish ass… I'm glad you're here too. If it was just me here, or worse-," he cut off briefly before continuing, "I don't think I could handle it."
"You're more than capable of handling anything," she reassured him.
"Thanks…. Anyway, I'll stop bothering you. Let's try to get some sleep. Not sure when Shmi needs to wake up but I don't think slaves get to sleep in."
That… was a valid point.
"Goodnight, Miss M."
"Goodnight, Dennis."
(X)(X)(X)
The next morning, Miss Militia stirred to the sound of Shmi speaking quietly into what she could only assume was this world's equivalent to a phone.
"Where are you?"
When she received an answer from the other end, the language - or to be more accurate, the sound - didn't come from a human.
"I'm on my way," Shmi replied, her voice the kind of efficiently calm that says there's no time nor use for whatever one is really feeling. "Stay there."
Any vestige of tiredness, if it was there at all, vanished. Miss Militia sat up from the couch - quietly so as not to disturb Dennis - and then stood, tip-toeing around the boy before making her way to the kitchen where Shmi was arranging a headdress to step outside.
"Are you alright?" she asked.
Shmi turned to her, negotiating some wayward strands of hair into the cloth around her head. "A friend of mine was hurt, I'm going to find him, and see if I can help."
Miss Militia felt her heart twinge with pity. She did not envy the slaves on this planet.
"Let me come with you," she insisted. "I'd rather whoever hurt your friend not try to hurt you as well."
Shmi looked hesitant for a moment before she nodded.
Leaving a hastily scrawled note for Dennis with the standard "All Clear" code phrase used by Wards in their civilian identities she hastily followed after the slave woman as they left her home in search of her friend.
(X)(X)(X)
Watching how Shmi moved through the streets of the city was odd.
There was nothing particularly unique about it save how… unremarkable Shmi herself was, to the point that Miss Militia, actively following after her, sometimes lost her in the crowd. If she didn't know any better she'd have likened it to a stranger effect; though in truth it was more likely she was taken in (still) by the strange sights and sounds of a menagerie of aliens around her.
There were so many of them. Weequays, Dugs, Trandoshans, Biths, Aqualish… and not just sentients, either: Banthas, dewbacks, and blurggs.
She couldn't help but stare - something Shmi's seemingly practiced art of going unnoticed took full advantage of.
In spite of the best attempts of the alien world to compromise her attention, though, she didn't get lost, and soon enough they arrived.
She couldn't read the sign at the front, but a green cross seemed a universal symbol.
She expected to walk in, but when Shmi knelt in front of what she assumed to be a beggar, she then realized the 'beggar' was actually an injured Bith, whose hands were wrapped in thick, heavy cloth.
"Rugess," Shmi breathed, "Are you alright?"
The Bith answered, his odd, dual toned language going over Miss Militia's head.
"What happened?" she asked Shmi, kneeling down and reaching, ready to help the Bith stand.
"His master put him in the fighting pits. Desperate… stupid," she whispered the last word, as if afraid she'd be overheard. "Rugess is an engineer, not a fighter. He lost. And his master's debtors came to collect," Shmi continued, her voice low. "With his hands as hurt as they are, no other Master would take him… not worth the expense."
Militia felt her heart sink, and her stomach drop.
Oh no.
(X)(X)(X)
Ok boys and girls:
There might be a SLIGHT delay in the next chapter, because I'm going to focus all my energy on writing/finishing the Outcry rewrite next week.
If that goes smoothly then fantastic, we'll be on track again before you know it.
But the rewrite of that fic is almost complete and if you've followed me often enough you know how painfully slow I can get towards the "end" of a project- so distractions must be minimized.
Anywho, next chapters as usual (9,10,11) are available on Patreon with chapter 11 having a bit of a surprise For just 1 dollar per month. Enjoy
Clockblocker
Shmi's home was… larger than he'd expected.
Dennis studied history - well, obviously, he went to school after all - but back to the point, he'd seen a preserved southern plantation once. The 'housing' given to the slaves were barns at best, hovels at worst.
Shmi's house looked and felt like a home. A living room, two bedrooms, a bathroom and a workshop - or at least he assumed it was a workshop: There was a table, and tools, and spare droid parts, though they all looked a bit dusty.
"Really, please don't trouble yourself."
Miss Militia's voice drew Dennis's eyes back towards the woman who was busily setting up some bedding for them on the couch and floor. Blankets, pillows and bunched up sheets.
"It's no trouble," Shmi reassured. "I offered you my home. I'll hardly allow you to sleep on the stones."
"At least let me help-" Miss Militia tried again, only for her hands to be lightly swatted away as they drew close.
Shmi offered Militia a small, wry little smile. "It's quite alright. You're my guests. I've missed having children to dote on."
Miss Militia raised an eyebrow. "You don't seem much older than me, miss."
"No, I suppose not," she said, though that small, barely there smile remained.
Miss Militia sighed.
"You deal with a lot of kids?" The question made both women turn to him, and Dennis stared at them both for a moment before shrugging. "Just wondering," he said, shifting a bit from foot to foot. "Was that, like, your job or…?"
"No," she answered with that calm placidity, fluffing the pillows. "I'm afraid I'm not lively enough to bring up the creche younglings of the larger estates." Dennis cringed - though Shmi didn't see it - wondering not for the first time just how deeply embedded in this planet and society slaves had to be for them to… basically be grown communally by the sound of it. "I was speaking of my own son."
"Where is he?" Miss Militia asked, before she seemed to catch herself. "Ahh, I'm sorry I hope he's not… been taken from you-"
Sold, Dennis thought. She means sold.
"He was," Shmi said, but her smile only grew as she spoke, "taken offworld, by Jedi, where he can live a free life, and be good and true in a way Tattoine would not allow."
"They didn't take you as well?" Miss Militia asked, settling in her seat as Shmi finished her project on crafting two beds for them.
"One promised to return; but it's enough that they took him," she said, and while her voice was gentle there was a firmness to it now. A true, genuine belief that her son being taken from slavery and not her was more than enough. "I will be a slave for my whole life and will be happy with that knowledge."
"I see," Miss Militia said - almost whispered, really - shifting where she stood.
Again, Dennis decided to cut in. "Who are the Jedi?"
Again, both women turned to him.
Again, he shrugged.
Playing the ignorant, blunt foreigner came rather easy.
Gee.
Shmi, however, raised an eyebrow. "I'd have thought everyone would know of the Jedi Order," she said. "They're rare. But you hear stories of the guardians of peace and order, even here on Tatooine. Men and women capable of great, impossible feats. Wielders of swords of light who protect innocent people and bring justice to those who commit evil acts."
His eyes shifted towards Miss Militia, and hers shifted to meet his.
That sounded a bit like the 'Protectorate' on the surface.
"Where exactly are you from that you haven't heard of them?"
"Far, far, far away." Dennis smiled. "Little blue planet. Mostly ocean."
Shmi's eyes went up to the ceiling. "I've heard of oceans… I can't imagine so much water."
And he'd stuck his foot in his mouth… again.
(X)(X)(X)
Alexandria:
Transporting the two Rodians without letting them know she herself was their 'transport" was tricky.
Normally she'd just knock them out, but she knew nothing about Rodian Physiology. Choking off their air could be fatal, their skulls could be significantly softer or harder than human skulls and so her attempts to non lethally knock them out might just kill them by accident.
So she improvised.
Taking their shirts and jackets and using them to wrap the prisoners' heads so they couldn't see and could barely hear, she blinded their most obvious senses. Then, tying their arms behind them, she jammed a metal rod between their arms and their backs.
Then she grabbed the bar and lifted.
No doubt it was uncomfortable, no doubt their arms, if they were in any way similar to humans, would arrive with strained tendons or outright dislocation. But the job was done, and the secret of the flying strong woman was 'kept' as best as she could manage.
Reaching the Bounty broker was simple, and when she arrived the cavalcade of other bounty hunters and bar goers gave her a wide berth as she physically dragged the two beaten, disoriented Rodians behind her.
The Broker, with a look on his face she could read easily, spoke with a smile, even as his micro-expressions told her a different story.
"Found 'em, did you?"
She nodded. "I did." She focused on reading the things he wasn't saying as opposed to listening to what he did. "They gave my friend trouble."
The man leaned forward, plucking his glass off the table before drinking. "So I'm guessing that's why we're roughing 'em up a bit?"
She kept looking, kept reading. Her memory going over what she remembered of her interactions with the man and coming up blank.
So, she decided to be direct. "You disapprove."
A twitch, surprise, then a look, more calculating, assessing; unused to being 'read' accurately.
The broker stood up, marching around his table. "You're probably too young to remember," He said and she almost huffed out a laugh "But there was a time when Bounty Hunting wasn't the equivalent of a thug with a license to hurt people."
He reached down, unfurling the makeshift facebindings she'd made for the Rodians. The aliens blinked, their eyes seemingly adjusting to the light as they began to breathe more rapidly.
Ahh… apparently Rodian's 'don't enjoy' the absence of light.
Information that could be useful la-
She caught herself, the thought sticking in her brain uncomfortably.
"Yes well-" She rallied, even as she gave no indication of the discomfiting realization externally. "Thug or not. The job's done. They're alive as well. The payment?"
The broker's lips twisted, not quite pursed, and not quite a smirk either, more exasperation, or resignation than anything else.
He reached behind his waist, pulling free some scanning device and a small device, no bigger than a USB stick.
The scanner blinked and beeped once. "Three thousand credit chit," he said, before holding it out to her. "Don't spend it all in one place."
"No promises," she 'joked,' knowing she might need to use this place again before too long. Best to keep things… amicable.
The broker snorted, then turned and walked back towards his booth and his drink.
Alexandria turned and marched out.
(X)(X)(X)
Outside, the Triumvirate member allowed herself a slow, deep breath, marching through the quiet, moonlit streets of Anchorhead - her thoughts running quickly.
She was no stranger to brutality, it was true. During her long long years as Alexandria, as an agent of Cauldron, she's become intimately familiar with the depths humanity can sink to, can be made to sink to.
She knew she was no longer a kind person. Most days, she could scarcely lie to herself enough to call herself good. Not like Keith is, or Duncan had been.
But she always knew it served a purpose. It was for a good reason. The salvation of humanity.
The pain the Rodians had felt hadn't been by design. She didn't know their physiology, their biology. Hell, that was the very reason she had blinded them that way in the first place. The way she'd transported them was out of efficiency and the need for secrecy…but not out of cruelty.
Those things didn't bother her. She couldn't let them bother her.
No. What bothered her, what cut into the armor of necessity she'd grown so used to wearing had been that sharp, disquieting thought after she discovered what that sensory deprivation had done to them.
The broker had looked at it like a petty torture. Unnecessary.
Her first thought had been… that it could be useful later.
Even if, objectively, she knew that it could be - that they might meet other Rodian criminals, or perhaps even be asked to rescue other Rodians or other species similar to them and that sensory deprivation might affect them differently and that information could be useful in any number of ways - that hadn't been why she thought it.
No. She was honest enough to admit that her first thought was that such a thing could be useful if she needed to torture a Rodian in the future.
For that to be her first thought…
"Because knowing what I know about you; you not killing them would have been more surprising."
The Ward's words came back, bright and clear.
She'd long grown used to the thought of necessity of the ends justifying the means but there were no ends here. There was no necessity in the thought.
Had she grown so used to it that necessity had ceased to be necessary for her? That simple expedience or worse, convenience would suffice?
It was an… uncomfortable possibility.
She didn't need sleep. Not anymore. But she sought it out anyway.
The silence would be welcome.
(X)(X)(X)
Miss Militia
"Pssst. Miss M. You awake?"
Hannah allowed one weary eye to slide open.
She didn't need to sleep, but after the last few days, between the stress, the worry, the fear and everything else… yes. She could admit that sleep was welcome right now, even if it brought her dreams.
"Yes, Dennis," she answered quietly from her place on the couch. "Something on your mind?"
Stupid question. Doubtless there was plenty on his mind. He'd been holding himself together remarkably well, but the dam seemed to just about be ready to crack.
"Just wondering if you're ok."
That… made her raise an eyebrow.
"What?"
"Are you ok?" he asked again. "I noticed you looked a little… pissed when you brought the Rodians back, figured you might want to talk."
The gloom of the night hid the details of Shmi's home right now, but she stared up at the ceiling regardless in blinking disbelief.
"I'm… alright," she answered slowly. "I don't like… this, Dennis. Bounty Hunting. It feels too much like hurting people for money. Not a cause like protecting people, or being heroes. It's just… Hunt for cash."
"Well… we gotta get home," he whispered back. "It's the only way to get back to that place where we can protect people and be heroes."
He was right. Didn't change that it made her feel dirty.
She closed her eyes, and the image of the dead human, Weequay, and Trandoshan stared back at her, bodies bleeding and broken.
"What about you?" she sidestepped. "I can't imagine this has been easy for you."
"Easier than for you I think," he whispered. "...But no. Not easy," he finally admitted. "We're in space. With aliens and spaceships and laser guns and all this crazy stuff. A part of me is saying, 'Wow… wait til I tell everyone about this back home.' Then… the other part of me wonders if home is still there."
She stiffened. "Why would you think it's not?"
Dennis went quiet.
She was about to ask again when he spoke.
"Just… being stupid, I guess," he mumbled. "I'm not sure what happened, or when. But… you're right. Home has to still be there."
Hannah swallowed. "You know you can talk to me Dennis… I'm not just your CO, I'd like to think I'm your friend too."
"Yeah. I know Miss M," he whispered back. "It's just… this is crazy. And every time I feel I've got a handle on it…" He trailed off. "I feel like I'm losing my mind."
She understood. "I know. And I understand." She nodded. "But again… if you ever need to talk… we're in this together. Alright?"
"Yeah, Miss M," he sighed. "At the risk of sounding like a selfish ass… I'm glad you're here too. If it was just me here, or worse-," he cut off briefly before continuing, "I don't think I could handle it."
"You're more than capable of handling anything," she reassured him.
"Thanks…. Anyway, I'll stop bothering you. Let's try to get some sleep. Not sure when Shmi needs to wake up but I don't think slaves get to sleep in."
That… was a valid point.
"Goodnight, Miss M."
"Goodnight, Dennis."
(X)(X)(X)
The next morning, Miss Militia stirred to the sound of Shmi speaking quietly into what she could only assume was this world's equivalent to a phone.
"Where are you?"
When she received an answer from the other end, the language - or to be more accurate, the sound - didn't come from a human.
"I'm on my way," Shmi replied, her voice the kind of efficiently calm that says there's no time nor use for whatever one is really feeling. "Stay there."
Any vestige of tiredness, if it was there at all, vanished. Miss Militia sat up from the couch - quietly so as not to disturb Dennis - and then stood, tip-toeing around the boy before making her way to the kitchen where Shmi was arranging a headdress to step outside.
"Are you alright?" she asked.
Shmi turned to her, negotiating some wayward strands of hair into the cloth around her head. "A friend of mine was hurt, I'm going to find him, and see if I can help."
Miss Militia felt her heart twinge with pity. She did not envy the slaves on this planet.
"Let me come with you," she insisted. "I'd rather whoever hurt your friend not try to hurt you as well."
Shmi looked hesitant for a moment before she nodded.
Leaving a hastily scrawled note for Dennis with the standard "All Clear" code phrase used by Wards in their civilian identities she hastily followed after the slave woman as they left her home in search of her friend.
(X)(X)(X)
Watching how Shmi moved through the streets of the city was odd.
There was nothing particularly unique about it save how… unremarkable Shmi herself was, to the point that Miss Militia, actively following after her, sometimes lost her in the crowd. If she didn't know any better she'd have likened it to a stranger effect; though in truth it was more likely she was taken in (still) by the strange sights and sounds of a menagerie of aliens around her.
There were so many of them. Weequays, Dugs, Trandoshans, Biths, Aqualish… and not just sentients, either: Banthas, dewbacks, and blurggs.
She couldn't help but stare - something Shmi's seemingly practiced art of going unnoticed took full advantage of.
In spite of the best attempts of the alien world to compromise her attention, though, she didn't get lost, and soon enough they arrived.
She couldn't read the sign at the front, but a green cross seemed a universal symbol.
She expected to walk in, but when Shmi knelt in front of what she assumed to be a beggar, she then realized the 'beggar' was actually an injured Bith, whose hands were wrapped in thick, heavy cloth.
"Rugess," Shmi breathed, "Are you alright?"
The Bith answered, his odd, dual toned language going over Miss Militia's head.
"What happened?" she asked Shmi, kneeling down and reaching, ready to help the Bith stand.
"His master put him in the fighting pits. Desperate… stupid," she whispered the last word, as if afraid she'd be overheard. "Rugess is an engineer, not a fighter. He lost. And his master's debtors came to collect," Shmi continued, her voice low. "With his hands as hurt as they are, no other Master would take him… not worth the expense."
Militia felt her heart sink, and her stomach drop.
Oh no.
(X)(X)(X)
Ok boys and girls:
There might be a SLIGHT delay in the next chapter, because I'm going to focus all my energy on writing/finishing the Outcry rewrite next week.
If that goes smoothly then fantastic, we'll be on track again before you know it.
But the rewrite of that fic is almost complete and if you've followed me often enough you know how painfully slow I can get towards the "end" of a project- so distractions must be minimized.
Anywho, next chapters as usual (9,10,11) are available on Patreon with chapter 11 having a bit of a surprise
For just 1 dollar per month. Enjoy 
Icipall
Don't worry, we can fanfix that!
- Location
- Cold snow fields of Finland
That's because while Watto is rude, he is not an abuser or monster. Also, the main reason why he keeps slaves is not due to needing workers (while useful, he could have droids for that), but as status symbols, show that he is important and wealthy enough to own slaves.
Heh, nice one, Shmi.
Tatooine.
Well, Qui-Gon tried.
Reasonable concerns.
Old habits die hard, huh.
Easy to forget that Bounty Hunter's Guild is an old and respected institution and is trying to hold standards.
Probably also due to their antennas being sensory organs.
Golden Morning.
I've always really liked how many different species and creatures Star Wars has.
Bith named Rugess? You're not seriously meaning this is Rugess Nome, also known as Darth Tenebrous, the Sith master of Darth Plagueis?! Aside from being dead, this would be a massive jumping of a shark!
- Location
- Neptune
No. The name isn't unique. There's more than one sith named "John" too.
LD1449
To the last; Kill them all
- Location
- The other side of the labyrinth.
No this isn't Tenebrous. As stated, "There's more than one John"
I find Vicky's side much more interesting, I can't help it, I have too many traumas from stories stretched out to infinity because the characters never talk to each other.
Taylor is different because she's unable to explain, and fucking Yoda appears on the screen.
Seeing Dennis sitting on this bag of grenades and, logically, not doing anything about it bothers me.
Taylor is different because she's unable to explain, and fucking Yoda appears on the screen.
Seeing Dennis sitting on this bag of grenades and, logically, not doing anything about it bothers me.
- Location
- US
I think this is the Bith with the scattergun that Alexandria fought. She snapped his wrists grabbing it.
TheatrclBarristr
Not a barrister
- Pronouns
- He/Him
I thought she stabbed him with her sword too, didn't she?
Edit: no, I was wrong. Just reread that bit. The Bith backed away with raised hands and she let him go.
Last edited:
Alexandria is interesting. Character growth in slow motion!
Chapter 9
LD1449
To the last; Kill them all
- Location
- The other side of the labyrinth.
Chapter 9:
Vicky:
"You screwed with her head!" Vicky hissed.
In response, the little alien rubbed at his chin. "Hmmm. Value you do, her wellbeing. But afraid of the wrong thing you are. An enemy, the Force is not. Harm her, I would not. Benign the Mind Trick is."
Vicky's mouth opened, ready to tell him off and hammer home the point that screwing with people's heads was a bad thing -again- before clicking her teeth shut, gritting them as she reminded herself the little green troll was the one that was supposed to come here to help them.
'Don't piss off the alien that can get us home.' She reminded herself, counting back from ten.
"Look," she bit out. "Just… don't Master her or me-" She added for good measure. "-ever again!"
A tense, awkward silence fell on them, with Yoda staring up at her as though expecting her to say more.
She decided to just… get to the point. "So, Chieftain Atti called you here to help us right?"
"Hmpf." The little goblin shifted where he sat. "Indeed. Friend to the Wookies I am. Friend to my order they are. Help, the Jedi may provide."
"Jedi," she half asked, half stated. "D-4 has been saying some of the Wookies are asking if I'm a Jedi."
"Indeed." Yoda stamped his stick on the floor from his little pillow seat. "Strange things my old friend Attichitcuk has said. Told me, he did, and seen I have that flight you can do. And great your strength is. Beyond human."
Victoria opened her mouth, then clicked it shut. Saying he wanted to help wasn't exactly a guarantee that he would, or even that he could. Or that he was as… nice as he was presenting himself to be.
Hell, he Mastered Taylor! Just… willy-nilly, like it wasn't a bad thing! Sure it seemed benevolent and kind, but waking her up would have been benevolent and kind too! Without the violation!
She wasn't blind to her own power usage to get Taylor to sleep in the first place but her stuff was definitely temporary, gone as soon as she pulled her Aura back. For all she knew this guy had just altered Taylor's brain chemistry forever or something.
"I'm special," she hedged with the same answer she'd given the Wookies.
"Hmpf," he huffed. "Fearful you are. Mistrusting you are. Sense it I do. The force flows in strange ways around you, around your friend, moreso. Much pain she has. Too much pain. Echoes of many ghosts are borne on her shoulders."
Vicky tried not to react. She doubted she succeeded.
Was he talking about Tay's mental issues? Her time as a villain? Or just saying something cryptic to sound like he knew what he was talking about.
"Mind reading isn't possible," she insisted for lack of anything better to say, not sure if it was bravado or self reassurance that pushed her tongue.
The green man gave her a flat look.
"Impossible for the Force, nothing is. Fearful of this, you should not be."
Why did he think that was supposed to be reassuring?
"Look," she sighed, crossing her legs as she sat down on her own pillow seat. "Can you just get us back home? That's literally all we're asking for! Nothing fancy. Nothing major. Not asking to uplift the species or whatever. Just help us get back home. Please…"
"Hmmm. Came from the shadowlands, you claim you did. Remember the place, do you?"
She shrugged. The Shadowlands, she learned, was the forest floor, called as such because the light of the sun never reached it, "We… didn't exactly lay down markers when we woke up… stupid in retrospect."
Very stupid infact. There had been some debris around them, but knowing what she knew about Kashyyk now, it wouldnt surprise her to realize the flora had consumed all traces of their arrival in less than a week, if even that.
If only shed have known… but she hardly realized at the time just how utterly fucked they were and Tay hadnt exactly been in the best headspace to put it mildly.
"Unfruitful, Wookie searches have been," he admitted, and that surprised her.
"Wait!?" she balked. "They've been searching?!"
Yoda nodded. "Indeed, wish to know, they do, of any presence on Kashyyyk not their own. Welcoming, they are. Foolish, they are not."
That… made sense.
"Why not ask us?"
"Knew that answers you would not have, Attichitcuk told me. Open, your face is. The callow of youth have you."
…
Vicky wasn't sure if she should be flattered or insulted.
Yoda turned, looking away from her and towards Taylor's room. "Rest more for today, your friend shall. Head out tomorrow, we will."
That made her perk up. "Where are we going?"
"To the Jedi temple we will go," he said, grunting as he peeled himself off his seat. "There, answers we may find. Expansive, our archives are. Knowledge pooled by the masters and knights. Help we will give you there."
She didn't have a better plan but…
"Let me run that by Tay first," she said aloud. And a lot of other things, she didn't add. "I don't think she'll say no - lack of options and all that - but informed decisions are better ones."
The green man, if he took offense, hid it well. "Understand, I do." Turning and beginning to hobble back to the exit with his stooping, limping gait, Vicky stood up to at least open the door for him.
"Thanks for offering to help," she said partingly.
Little green nodded, his head bobbing as he offered her a little smile before walking out of their hut.
Vicky shut the door behind him.
"Okay," she sighed. "Okay… 'Hey, Tay, funny thing, while you were asleep a garden gnome came by, Mastered you and is gonna take us to a temple which might have something that can help!' I can just tell this conversation is going to go great."
(X)(X)(X)
The conversation did not in fact go great.
Gee who'd have guessed?
Vicky wasn't entirely sure how one who wasn't talking could also be screaming vehemently at the top of her metaphorical lungs. But by god was Taylor managing.
Hell, her typing on a pad sounded angry. Vicky didn't even know that was possible!
'Why did you even let him in here!?'
Vicky winced. "I thought you were having a nightmare. I walked in and he came in right behind me! I didn't know he'd do anything. What would you have liked me to do? Punt him out of the hut!?"
"Close the fucking door behind you!"
Vicky rubbed at her forehead, groaning. "Well excuse me for not thinking everyone here is out to slit our throats in our sleep!" she fired back. Not sure anymore if she was fighting or apologizing.
'Because being Mastered in my sleep was so much BETTER!?'
Vicky cringed.
Why did she have to make it sound… well, it was bad but why was she making it sound so much worse than it had even seemed?
"I'm sorry, alright?" She threw her hands up. "I didn't think he was here to hurt anyone and I legit thought you were having a nightmare. I wasn't thinking about him; I was thinking about what I promised you."
Taylor seemed to take a deep breath, then shut her eyes and took another deep breath - slow and loud through her nostrils - before she found, if not her calm, then at least a much tighter leash on her temper.
As she typed out the next words, her face, again, became flat and motionless. And somehow it was so much worse than the naked anger her expression held until just a few seconds ago
"Where is he?"
"Probably with the village chief or something," Vicky mumbled, squirming in her seat.
More typing.
"And he says he's going to take us to his 'order'?"
"That's what he said," she affirmed with a shrug, leaning forward, hands gripping her not quite crossed legs.
"An order that might have more Masters like him?"
Vicky blanched. She… hadn't thought of that.
"I didn't ask," she mumbled.
With a look of determination glinting in her eye, Taylor stood up, and Vicky was pretty sure she should stop her before she did… something.
"Hold on there, skinny!" she cried, floating up off her pillow seat to intercept Taylor before she could turn and walk out the door. "I know you're pissed, but going off and clubbing the guy over the head isn't gonna solve anything!"
Huh… so this is what it was like arguing for less excessive force?
…
Felt weird.
Taylor offered her a flat glare.
Honestly, the stare on this girl.
Vicky felt herself wince. "Just… promise you won't do anything… violent? Like, this might be our one shot at getting home for all we know and we kinda have to do that, right?"
Taylor averted her eyes, turning her head as she looked down towards her hand, fingers curling into a fist and uncurling.
Vicky wasn't sure if that was good or bad, but when Taylor offered the slightest, most infinitesimal nod, she decided it was the best she was gonna get.
(X)(X)(X)
When they stepped out of the hut and Vicky asked the Wookies if they knew where the 'Little green man' was, only a few of them gave her a funny look before she was pointed in the right direction.
'The right direction' being an overlook at the edge of the village, with a clear, horizon to horizon view of the great Kashyyyk Forest, the Woshyyrr trees creating a sea of leaves, waving like a mass of liquid green in the wind.
The little goblin was sitting on what looked like a comfortable pillow. Vicky floated over, Taylor behind her.
"Huh." She blinked. "I think he's napping?" She looked to Taylor, who looked about ready to kick the little goblin awake.
*Whack*
"OW!" Vicky floated up into the air, rubbing at her shin. "STOP DOING THAT!".
"Not napping am I! Meditating! Difference you must learn!" he harrumphed, planting that soon to be firewood stick beside him.
Taylor's face shifted, now an appraising look in her eye.
She typed something out, and turned it towards Victoria, one word on the screen:
"Trump?"
Vicky offered a shrug. Master, Telekenisis to open the door and that goddamn stick, yeah for all she knew this was alien Eidolon.
They even came in matching colors!
Taylor's eyes narrowed, and Vicky could almost feel her hackles rising.
The little green man paused, straightening his spine, and suddenly he was the one giving Taylor a calculating, fixed stare.
"Oddly, the force flows around you." He brought a little claw to his chin, scratching at it as his eyes narrowed.
Then, he shut his eyes, seemingly concentrating.
Vicky saw Taylor shift her weight, definitely on guard.
No. Not on guard. Tay looked like she was legit ready to lunge at the guy.
The Dallon girl moved between the two, unwilling to let this whole thing descend into a fight and likely ruin her only way home.
Then, around the mezzanine overlook, she saw several of those car sized centipedes rising into the air.
She was just about ready to tackle Taylor, when she realized that… the centipede things might be able to 'leap' like she'd seen against the Trandoshans, but they didn't normally just float.
The little green man's hand rose and Vicky could almost feel the air thrumming around the three of them.
The centipedes writhed and twisted, seemingly trying to escape their bonds and Taylor herself looked… completely stone faced, even as her body looked poised to physically attack or run at a second's notice. It was actually quite off putting, even a little unnerving.
"Fearful, you are, that harm I would bring," the little alien said, his expression easing. "Promise you, I do, that only help I intend."
The green man lowered his hand, and with it, the floating attack dogs Taylor had intended to use were released back down into the canopy of leaves.
"Strange, your ability is," Yoda commented. "Domination. Not persuasion. Like the Dark Side it does feel, but colder. Distant. The mind, untouched it is. Bodies, beyond their control instead, hmm?"
Beside her, Taylor stiffened, going ramrod straight.
Vicky, her head on a swivel, looked from one to the other. "Huh? Wait, is he legit or full of it?" If the little green man could figure out power mechanics then that was… honestly really goddamn useful… or dangerous.
Taylor turned, looking at her before offering a single, wary nod.
Huh. Nea-
WHACK!
"OW! SHIT! YOU LITTLE-!"
"Full of lessons to teach, I am! Like respecting your elders, hmm?!"
Vicky grit her teeth. First chance she got, she was chucking the stick into the fucking sun.
"Who are you?"
Oh. So Tay apparently did have enough bugs to do her voice trick up here…
For all the bizarreness of the communication, Yoda didn't look at all like he was surprised, or even curious. A million insects 'chittering' in unison to speak left him remarkably unruffled.
The little man bowed. "Master Yoda, I am. Jedi. Friend to the Wookies; called here to help you, I have been."
"Mastering me isn't helping." And there it is. That didn't take long.
"Hmm. Of the calming technique you speak. Influence on your mind, even well meant, unwelcome it was."
Taylor's answer was a flat glare.
Yoda's clawed hand rose to rub at his head. "Hmmm. Troubling."
"Don't be troubled," Vicky volunteered. Trying to move past this with all the subtlety of a train car, on fire, being driven by clowns. "Just say you're sorry, promise not to do it again, and we can all move on and start working to get us back home huh?"
Yoda turned towards her and… he looked sad?
"An apology, I offer. That is not what is troubling. A promise to refrain, I do too. That is not it either. Meditating, I was, on what I sensed when touched your mind I did. Troubling, what I found there is."
Vicky winced. Shit! Was he talking about Tay's… issues?
"Tampered with, your minds have been," Yoda began and Vicky's brain stuttered for a second even as Yoda looked grave. "Powerful. Extensive"
"W-wait!" Vicky laughed, perhaps a bit too loudly, perhaps a bit too quickly. "Maybe it's because you talk funny but why am I included in that sentence?"
Yoda looked at her with quiet pity.
"Too much, does she know." He pointed at Taylor with his stick. "Pain - terrible pain - of a future that has not happened, Ghosts yet undying, A future yet unformed."
Then he turned to Vicky.
"And too little do you know. Locked away your mind is. Knowledge kept. Trapped."
Vicky felt her stomach flip.
"Bullshit!" The denial was more reflex than anything, and somewhere she realized that maybe she shouldn't just be flat out accusing the guy of being a bold faced liar when she had been advocating to play nice with him just a short while ago.
Yoda shook his head. "True, this is. Sorry, I am."
Vicky stared at him, her mouth opening, then closing, opening then closing.
Turning towards Taylor, she hoped to find incredulity there to match her own, but somehow, the look of pity cracking through her usual stony poker face cut right down to the bone.
(X)(X)(X)
They brought the conversation back to their hut. With privacy and tea.
Wookies made strong tea. She wasn't much of a fan, but it seemed Yoda was, and Taylor was, too. D-4 blended it; apparently, as a protocol droid meant to ease diplomacy, tea ceremonies were one of his specialties. Many species liked tea ceremonies.
Who knew?
Vicky sat in her pillow seat, nursing her drink in a wooden cup that felt as smooth as glass.
Someone had Mastered her?
Someone had Mastered her and made it so she couldn't even remember being Mastered?
An involuntary shudder ripped right through her.
"Can all Jedi do what you do?"
The question came from Taylor, tiny cricket like bugs giving her a semblance of a voice back.
"Potential, all Jedi have. But if of the mind influence you are concerned, resist this technique you can. Feel it, you can, when used. Overcome a strong mind the Force will not."
Taylor didn't look reassured. Then again, as stone-faced as she was, it was hard to tell what her look even was.
"How many of you are there?"
"Many Jedi make the temple their home: Knights, Masters, Younglings. Thousands, our Order consists of."
A thousand Master type capes…
…
Fuck.
"How would you help us return home?"
Honestly Vicky was glad that Tay was leading this conversation, right now, with her thoughts still spinning over the fact that she may have been fucking Mastered she was definitely not on the ball for this.
"Archives, the Jedi Temple has. All known Star charts. All known Hyperlanes. Thousands of years of history and knowledge. If in this galaxy your planet is, know of it the Jedi archives will. If beyond this galaxy it is, how you arrived we might glean from the force." Yoda nodded. "Help you, the Jedi can," he said, taking a sip of his tea from his comparatively tiny cup. "If a way home you do not find with us, then at least a healing of the mind can be done… if wish it you do."
"Why wouldn't we?" Vicky asked immediately.
Yoda turned to her and his stare was, again pitying; she was starting to hate that look.
"An answer, your friend can give. Pain, memories can bring. Eager for the knowledge you are, Ready for it… you may not be."
"Fuck that," she hissed and felt tears burning at the back of her eyes that she refused to let fall. "No one fucks with my head!" She turned to Taylor, who's eyes were downcast, staring at a spot on the table, her own cup nursed between her kneading hands.
The Dallon girl gave the former villain an elbow, jostling her, bringing Tay's attention to Vicky.
"So we're goin' with him?"
Tay looked… surprised, as though she hadn't expected Vicky to ask her opinion before she offered Vicky a single quiet nod.
She nodded back. "Fine then. Guess we're heading out with you."
"Tomorrow we leave." Yoda nodded. "Your goodbyes, you should say. Sad the Wookies will be, if leave without saying them you do."
(X)(X)(X)
Hello there friends
I'm back, and the Outcry rewrite as promised was completed last week.
Now then- This story in particular will continue of course, but for those who didn't catch the announcement in the Outcry thread I will also begin to juggle again sometime soon Triumvirate Knights, until I pull that fic to its conclusion.
Picking up that fic is still at least a month or so away, because I'd like to get a decent chunk of chapters written before I start posting for it again so I have some leeway/wiggle room- and I'll also begin to follow this story's Patreon model of being 3 chapters ahead for a dollar per month over there.
So for at least a few weeks, this fic will be (front and center) for me and others.
At any rate Thank you all for reading, chapters 10, 11 and 12 are available on Patreon as usual; link below. Be sure to read, review and give me your thoughts and feedback, believe it or not I do sometimes take inspiration from some of the ideas and discussions here (Which reminds me, I need to fix up that Vicky/Tay interaction brought up a bit earlier in the thread like I promised)
ALSO as an aside, I typically enjoy having 3 or so Betas per project. ATM Segev is the only Beta for this project, so if anyone would like to volunteer for gramatical corrections or a sounding board + gramatical corrections, please message me here or privately please. Thank you
Vicky:
"You screwed with her head!" Vicky hissed.
In response, the little alien rubbed at his chin. "Hmmm. Value you do, her wellbeing. But afraid of the wrong thing you are. An enemy, the Force is not. Harm her, I would not. Benign the Mind Trick is."
Vicky's mouth opened, ready to tell him off and hammer home the point that screwing with people's heads was a bad thing -again- before clicking her teeth shut, gritting them as she reminded herself the little green troll was the one that was supposed to come here to help them.
'Don't piss off the alien that can get us home.' She reminded herself, counting back from ten.
"Look," she bit out. "Just… don't Master her or me-" She added for good measure. "-ever again!"
A tense, awkward silence fell on them, with Yoda staring up at her as though expecting her to say more.
She decided to just… get to the point. "So, Chieftain Atti called you here to help us right?"
"Hmpf." The little goblin shifted where he sat. "Indeed. Friend to the Wookies I am. Friend to my order they are. Help, the Jedi may provide."
"Jedi," she half asked, half stated. "D-4 has been saying some of the Wookies are asking if I'm a Jedi."
"Indeed." Yoda stamped his stick on the floor from his little pillow seat. "Strange things my old friend Attichitcuk has said. Told me, he did, and seen I have that flight you can do. And great your strength is. Beyond human."
Victoria opened her mouth, then clicked it shut. Saying he wanted to help wasn't exactly a guarantee that he would, or even that he could. Or that he was as… nice as he was presenting himself to be.
Hell, he Mastered Taylor! Just… willy-nilly, like it wasn't a bad thing! Sure it seemed benevolent and kind, but waking her up would have been benevolent and kind too! Without the violation!
She wasn't blind to her own power usage to get Taylor to sleep in the first place but her stuff was definitely temporary, gone as soon as she pulled her Aura back. For all she knew this guy had just altered Taylor's brain chemistry forever or something.
"I'm special," she hedged with the same answer she'd given the Wookies.
"Hmpf," he huffed. "Fearful you are. Mistrusting you are. Sense it I do. The force flows in strange ways around you, around your friend, moreso. Much pain she has. Too much pain. Echoes of many ghosts are borne on her shoulders."
Vicky tried not to react. She doubted she succeeded.
Was he talking about Tay's mental issues? Her time as a villain? Or just saying something cryptic to sound like he knew what he was talking about.
"Mind reading isn't possible," she insisted for lack of anything better to say, not sure if it was bravado or self reassurance that pushed her tongue.
The green man gave her a flat look.
"Impossible for the Force, nothing is. Fearful of this, you should not be."
Why did he think that was supposed to be reassuring?
"Look," she sighed, crossing her legs as she sat down on her own pillow seat. "Can you just get us back home? That's literally all we're asking for! Nothing fancy. Nothing major. Not asking to uplift the species or whatever. Just help us get back home. Please…"
"Hmmm. Came from the shadowlands, you claim you did. Remember the place, do you?"
She shrugged. The Shadowlands, she learned, was the forest floor, called as such because the light of the sun never reached it, "We… didn't exactly lay down markers when we woke up… stupid in retrospect."
Very stupid infact. There had been some debris around them, but knowing what she knew about Kashyyk now, it wouldnt surprise her to realize the flora had consumed all traces of their arrival in less than a week, if even that.
If only shed have known… but she hardly realized at the time just how utterly fucked they were and Tay hadnt exactly been in the best headspace to put it mildly.
"Unfruitful, Wookie searches have been," he admitted, and that surprised her.
"Wait!?" she balked. "They've been searching?!"
Yoda nodded. "Indeed, wish to know, they do, of any presence on Kashyyyk not their own. Welcoming, they are. Foolish, they are not."
That… made sense.
"Why not ask us?"
"Knew that answers you would not have, Attichitcuk told me. Open, your face is. The callow of youth have you."
…
Vicky wasn't sure if she should be flattered or insulted.
Yoda turned, looking away from her and towards Taylor's room. "Rest more for today, your friend shall. Head out tomorrow, we will."
That made her perk up. "Where are we going?"
"To the Jedi temple we will go," he said, grunting as he peeled himself off his seat. "There, answers we may find. Expansive, our archives are. Knowledge pooled by the masters and knights. Help we will give you there."
She didn't have a better plan but…
"Let me run that by Tay first," she said aloud. And a lot of other things, she didn't add. "I don't think she'll say no - lack of options and all that - but informed decisions are better ones."
The green man, if he took offense, hid it well. "Understand, I do." Turning and beginning to hobble back to the exit with his stooping, limping gait, Vicky stood up to at least open the door for him.
"Thanks for offering to help," she said partingly.
Little green nodded, his head bobbing as he offered her a little smile before walking out of their hut.
Vicky shut the door behind him.
"Okay," she sighed. "Okay… 'Hey, Tay, funny thing, while you were asleep a garden gnome came by, Mastered you and is gonna take us to a temple which might have something that can help!' I can just tell this conversation is going to go great."
(X)(X)(X)
The conversation did not in fact go great.
Gee who'd have guessed?
Vicky wasn't entirely sure how one who wasn't talking could also be screaming vehemently at the top of her metaphorical lungs. But by god was Taylor managing.
Hell, her typing on a pad sounded angry. Vicky didn't even know that was possible!
'Why did you even let him in here!?'
Vicky winced. "I thought you were having a nightmare. I walked in and he came in right behind me! I didn't know he'd do anything. What would you have liked me to do? Punt him out of the hut!?"
"Close the fucking door behind you!"
Vicky rubbed at her forehead, groaning. "Well excuse me for not thinking everyone here is out to slit our throats in our sleep!" she fired back. Not sure anymore if she was fighting or apologizing.
'Because being Mastered in my sleep was so much BETTER!?'
Vicky cringed.
Why did she have to make it sound… well, it was bad but why was she making it sound so much worse than it had even seemed?
"I'm sorry, alright?" She threw her hands up. "I didn't think he was here to hurt anyone and I legit thought you were having a nightmare. I wasn't thinking about him; I was thinking about what I promised you."
Taylor seemed to take a deep breath, then shut her eyes and took another deep breath - slow and loud through her nostrils - before she found, if not her calm, then at least a much tighter leash on her temper.
As she typed out the next words, her face, again, became flat and motionless. And somehow it was so much worse than the naked anger her expression held until just a few seconds ago
"Where is he?"
"Probably with the village chief or something," Vicky mumbled, squirming in her seat.
More typing.
"And he says he's going to take us to his 'order'?"
"That's what he said," she affirmed with a shrug, leaning forward, hands gripping her not quite crossed legs.
"An order that might have more Masters like him?"
Vicky blanched. She… hadn't thought of that.
"I didn't ask," she mumbled.
With a look of determination glinting in her eye, Taylor stood up, and Vicky was pretty sure she should stop her before she did… something.
"Hold on there, skinny!" she cried, floating up off her pillow seat to intercept Taylor before she could turn and walk out the door. "I know you're pissed, but going off and clubbing the guy over the head isn't gonna solve anything!"
Huh… so this is what it was like arguing for less excessive force?
…
Felt weird.
Taylor offered her a flat glare.
Honestly, the stare on this girl.
Vicky felt herself wince. "Just… promise you won't do anything… violent? Like, this might be our one shot at getting home for all we know and we kinda have to do that, right?"
Taylor averted her eyes, turning her head as she looked down towards her hand, fingers curling into a fist and uncurling.
Vicky wasn't sure if that was good or bad, but when Taylor offered the slightest, most infinitesimal nod, she decided it was the best she was gonna get.
(X)(X)(X)
When they stepped out of the hut and Vicky asked the Wookies if they knew where the 'Little green man' was, only a few of them gave her a funny look before she was pointed in the right direction.
'The right direction' being an overlook at the edge of the village, with a clear, horizon to horizon view of the great Kashyyyk Forest, the Woshyyrr trees creating a sea of leaves, waving like a mass of liquid green in the wind.
The little goblin was sitting on what looked like a comfortable pillow. Vicky floated over, Taylor behind her.
"Huh." She blinked. "I think he's napping?" She looked to Taylor, who looked about ready to kick the little goblin awake.
*Whack*
"OW!" Vicky floated up into the air, rubbing at her shin. "STOP DOING THAT!".
"Not napping am I! Meditating! Difference you must learn!" he harrumphed, planting that soon to be firewood stick beside him.
Taylor's face shifted, now an appraising look in her eye.
She typed something out, and turned it towards Victoria, one word on the screen:
"Trump?"
Vicky offered a shrug. Master, Telekenisis to open the door and that goddamn stick, yeah for all she knew this was alien Eidolon.
They even came in matching colors!
Taylor's eyes narrowed, and Vicky could almost feel her hackles rising.
The little green man paused, straightening his spine, and suddenly he was the one giving Taylor a calculating, fixed stare.
"Oddly, the force flows around you." He brought a little claw to his chin, scratching at it as his eyes narrowed.
Then, he shut his eyes, seemingly concentrating.
Vicky saw Taylor shift her weight, definitely on guard.
No. Not on guard. Tay looked like she was legit ready to lunge at the guy.
The Dallon girl moved between the two, unwilling to let this whole thing descend into a fight and likely ruin her only way home.
Then, around the mezzanine overlook, she saw several of those car sized centipedes rising into the air.
She was just about ready to tackle Taylor, when she realized that… the centipede things might be able to 'leap' like she'd seen against the Trandoshans, but they didn't normally just float.
The little green man's hand rose and Vicky could almost feel the air thrumming around the three of them.
The centipedes writhed and twisted, seemingly trying to escape their bonds and Taylor herself looked… completely stone faced, even as her body looked poised to physically attack or run at a second's notice. It was actually quite off putting, even a little unnerving.
"Fearful, you are, that harm I would bring," the little alien said, his expression easing. "Promise you, I do, that only help I intend."
The green man lowered his hand, and with it, the floating attack dogs Taylor had intended to use were released back down into the canopy of leaves.
"Strange, your ability is," Yoda commented. "Domination. Not persuasion. Like the Dark Side it does feel, but colder. Distant. The mind, untouched it is. Bodies, beyond their control instead, hmm?"
Beside her, Taylor stiffened, going ramrod straight.
Vicky, her head on a swivel, looked from one to the other. "Huh? Wait, is he legit or full of it?" If the little green man could figure out power mechanics then that was… honestly really goddamn useful… or dangerous.
Taylor turned, looking at her before offering a single, wary nod.
Huh. Nea-
WHACK!
"OW! SHIT! YOU LITTLE-!"
"Full of lessons to teach, I am! Like respecting your elders, hmm?!"
Vicky grit her teeth. First chance she got, she was chucking the stick into the fucking sun.
"Who are you?"
Oh. So Tay apparently did have enough bugs to do her voice trick up here…
For all the bizarreness of the communication, Yoda didn't look at all like he was surprised, or even curious. A million insects 'chittering' in unison to speak left him remarkably unruffled.
The little man bowed. "Master Yoda, I am. Jedi. Friend to the Wookies; called here to help you, I have been."
"Mastering me isn't helping." And there it is. That didn't take long.
"Hmm. Of the calming technique you speak. Influence on your mind, even well meant, unwelcome it was."
Taylor's answer was a flat glare.
Yoda's clawed hand rose to rub at his head. "Hmmm. Troubling."
"Don't be troubled," Vicky volunteered. Trying to move past this with all the subtlety of a train car, on fire, being driven by clowns. "Just say you're sorry, promise not to do it again, and we can all move on and start working to get us back home huh?"
Yoda turned towards her and… he looked sad?
"An apology, I offer. That is not what is troubling. A promise to refrain, I do too. That is not it either. Meditating, I was, on what I sensed when touched your mind I did. Troubling, what I found there is."
Vicky winced. Shit! Was he talking about Tay's… issues?
"Tampered with, your minds have been," Yoda began and Vicky's brain stuttered for a second even as Yoda looked grave. "Powerful. Extensive"
"W-wait!" Vicky laughed, perhaps a bit too loudly, perhaps a bit too quickly. "Maybe it's because you talk funny but why am I included in that sentence?"
Yoda looked at her with quiet pity.
"Too much, does she know." He pointed at Taylor with his stick. "Pain - terrible pain - of a future that has not happened, Ghosts yet undying, A future yet unformed."
Then he turned to Vicky.
"And too little do you know. Locked away your mind is. Knowledge kept. Trapped."
Vicky felt her stomach flip.
"Bullshit!" The denial was more reflex than anything, and somewhere she realized that maybe she shouldn't just be flat out accusing the guy of being a bold faced liar when she had been advocating to play nice with him just a short while ago.
Yoda shook his head. "True, this is. Sorry, I am."
Vicky stared at him, her mouth opening, then closing, opening then closing.
Turning towards Taylor, she hoped to find incredulity there to match her own, but somehow, the look of pity cracking through her usual stony poker face cut right down to the bone.
(X)(X)(X)
They brought the conversation back to their hut. With privacy and tea.
Wookies made strong tea. She wasn't much of a fan, but it seemed Yoda was, and Taylor was, too. D-4 blended it; apparently, as a protocol droid meant to ease diplomacy, tea ceremonies were one of his specialties. Many species liked tea ceremonies.
Who knew?
Vicky sat in her pillow seat, nursing her drink in a wooden cup that felt as smooth as glass.
Someone had Mastered her?
Someone had Mastered her and made it so she couldn't even remember being Mastered?
An involuntary shudder ripped right through her.
"Can all Jedi do what you do?"
The question came from Taylor, tiny cricket like bugs giving her a semblance of a voice back.
"Potential, all Jedi have. But if of the mind influence you are concerned, resist this technique you can. Feel it, you can, when used. Overcome a strong mind the Force will not."
Taylor didn't look reassured. Then again, as stone-faced as she was, it was hard to tell what her look even was.
"How many of you are there?"
"Many Jedi make the temple their home: Knights, Masters, Younglings. Thousands, our Order consists of."
A thousand Master type capes…
…
Fuck.
"How would you help us return home?"
Honestly Vicky was glad that Tay was leading this conversation, right now, with her thoughts still spinning over the fact that she may have been fucking Mastered she was definitely not on the ball for this.
"Archives, the Jedi Temple has. All known Star charts. All known Hyperlanes. Thousands of years of history and knowledge. If in this galaxy your planet is, know of it the Jedi archives will. If beyond this galaxy it is, how you arrived we might glean from the force." Yoda nodded. "Help you, the Jedi can," he said, taking a sip of his tea from his comparatively tiny cup. "If a way home you do not find with us, then at least a healing of the mind can be done… if wish it you do."
"Why wouldn't we?" Vicky asked immediately.
Yoda turned to her and his stare was, again pitying; she was starting to hate that look.
"An answer, your friend can give. Pain, memories can bring. Eager for the knowledge you are, Ready for it… you may not be."
"Fuck that," she hissed and felt tears burning at the back of her eyes that she refused to let fall. "No one fucks with my head!" She turned to Taylor, who's eyes were downcast, staring at a spot on the table, her own cup nursed between her kneading hands.
The Dallon girl gave the former villain an elbow, jostling her, bringing Tay's attention to Vicky.
"So we're goin' with him?"
Tay looked… surprised, as though she hadn't expected Vicky to ask her opinion before she offered Vicky a single quiet nod.
She nodded back. "Fine then. Guess we're heading out with you."
"Tomorrow we leave." Yoda nodded. "Your goodbyes, you should say. Sad the Wookies will be, if leave without saying them you do."
(X)(X)(X)
Hello there friends
I'm back, and the Outcry rewrite as promised was completed last week.
Now then- This story in particular will continue of course, but for those who didn't catch the announcement in the Outcry thread I will also begin to juggle again sometime soon Triumvirate Knights, until I pull that fic to its conclusion.
Picking up that fic is still at least a month or so away, because I'd like to get a decent chunk of chapters written before I start posting for it again so I have some leeway/wiggle room- and I'll also begin to follow this story's Patreon model of being 3 chapters ahead for a dollar per month over there.
So for at least a few weeks, this fic will be (front and center) for me and others.
At any rate Thank you all for reading, chapters 10, 11 and 12 are available on Patreon as usual; link below. Be sure to read, review and give me your thoughts and feedback, believe it or not I do sometimes take inspiration from some of the ideas and discussions here (Which reminds me, I need to fix up that Vicky/Tay interaction brought up a bit earlier in the thread like I promised)
ALSO as an aside, I typically enjoy having 3 or so Betas per project. ATM Segev is the only Beta for this project, so if anyone would like to volunteer for gramatical corrections or a sounding board + gramatical corrections, please message me here or privately please. Thank you
Icipall
Don't worry, we can fanfix that!
- Location
- Cold snow fields of Finland
*sniff sniff* Huh, suddenly it reeks of hypocrisy in here.
It doesn't work like that, but fair request.
You mean like, superhuman?
Not a surprise. But I do wonder what it would feel if Force sensitives can sense the Shards in parahumans.
Not in your previous universe. And often it is not mind reading, but sensing your emotions.
Heh.
Yeah, must feel weird.
Heh, this joke never gets old.
Yeah, Taylor is not really into that trusting thing, especially after going Khepri.
Wow, that's a very good summation of how her power works.
Vicky throws the stick.
Yoda calls it back with the Force and smacks Vicky at the back of the head.
Oh, he can sense the Shards. And possibly a hint of the Entities.
Ouch.
Careful, Vicky, you might not like the answer.
Icipall
Don't worry, we can fanfix that!
- Location
- Cold snow fields of Finland
I can help betaing this as well, at least until Outcry starts again.
Chapter 10
LD1449
To the last; Kill them all
- Location
- The other side of the labyrinth.
Chapter 10:
Hannah
Helping Shmi's Bith friend back to the slave woman's home was a slow affair. Bith bones, apparently, were different from that of humans, less dense, more easily splintered when broken. So keeping his shattered hands away from the rush of Tatooinian citizens that might bump into him or jostle the injuries was difficult at best; especially since most didn't seem to care enough to watch where they were going.
Shmi herself walked nervously; fidgeting at the unwanted attention they were drawing to themselves, and that was enough to put Hannah on edge, which didn't help matters.
Even so, with one step in front of the other, navigating through stretches of road they eventually made it back.
Opening the door, Hanah looked inside, finding thatDennis was awake, sitting at the dinner table. He stood at the sound of the door opening.
"Honestly, when I woke up and didn't find you guys I was a bit worr-oh hell." He blanched at the sight of the clearly injured Bith.
"Come on, Rugess, let's sit you down," Shmi soothed, ushering her friend over towards the living room couch. The blankets and pillows used by Hannah and Dennis were thankfully neatly folded on one side. The boy knew how to be a decent house guest.
The Bith muttered something in his language that Hannah could guess was some form of thanks but she wasn't wholly sure
"You just rest, love. I'll get you something to eat," Shmi promised, and though it was subtle, Hannah could see the glance of worry she tossed towards her kitchen and wondered if the slave woman had enough to feed so many.
She felt a twisting in her gut and looked to Dennis, who luckily caught her eye as she gestured with a jerk of her head for him to follow her the opposite direction of Shmi heading towards the kitchen, and giving the Bith plenty of room where he lay on the couch.
Once they had some semblance of privacy, Hannah leaned in close to whisper in Dennis' ear, "He fought in that arena yesterday."
Dennis' features scrunched up, then his eyes widened in realization. "Shit."
She nodded at his rather apt summation.
There was no guarantee Alexandria had been the one to hurt him. But if she was… that might make things more complicated.
Hannah took a breath. "You have another day with Watto, right?"
Dennis nodded. "That's the deal."
"Head out. Finish. If Alexandria heads there rather than here, let her know."
"Got it," he affirmed. "What are you gonna do?"
She turned, looking at the injured Bith and Shmi, fretting in the kitchen. "Help out around here."
(X)(X)(X)
As she'd suspected, Shmi didn't exactly have the luxury of staying at home all day helping an injured friend. Before long, Watto called for his slave and her work day had to get started.
So Hannah was left to help the injured Rugess.
Before that though, she needed to bathe. While thick, heavy clothing had done well enough to… smother the smell as it shielded her from the harshness of the desert sands and scorching twin suns; the reality was that she felt disgusting after so long without a proper shower.
Tattoine, unfortunately, did not have a "proper shower".
Desert planets and water, of course.
What they used instead were sonic based showers, where thrumming sound waves would quite literally break apart the filth and dead matter.
It was a decidedly… odd sensation, and she desperately missed the feeling of hot running water, but it was far better than nothing, scented powders and oils were used as replacements for soaps.
She swore the first chance she had, she was going to soak in a bathtub and not even Alexandria could stop her if she got in her way.
Once she was done cleaning herself she stepped out to start helping Shmi. Or, more specifically, Rugess.
She rebandaged his hands, using clean bandages from a first aid kit Shmi had, tossing away the ratty, bloodied sackcloth they'd been bound in before. She then spoonfed the Bith some porridge, which was… interesting to do to say the least, considering the odd shape of Bith mouths.
In short, if Alexandria had indeed hurt the man she was doing her best to make up for it, even if just by proxy.
She couldn't understand his language-but clearly he could understand her-and while he spoke and mimed his best to communicate through charades, she never got the feeling he was asking for something specific but rather asking about her through the impressions.
So she answered. She needed to practice their supposed cover story anyway.
"Our ship was destroyed in a crash along the Jundland Wastes," she answered, remembering one of the first bits of this planet's local norms: don't go to the Jundland Wastes. "So we're stuck here until we can afford transport off-world. Dennis is doing odd jobs, as you can tell, and I'm…" the words stuck in her throat, "...a bounty hunter."
Rugess nodded, mumbling something else she didn't understand, then raised his injured hands. She could guess he was referring to his job.
"Shmi said you were some sort of engineer?" Hannah prompted. He nodded, more enthusiastically now, his bulbous head making him look rather comical as he started talking in a rapid fire staccato of gibberish that was somehow even funnier.
It made her smile, seeing someone clearly passionate about their work, even as a slave.
It made her hate the industry all the more, as if she needed another reason; how all they saw were the injuries that supposedly made him "useless", rather than someone who obviously loved what he did and likely did it well as a result.
Suddenly, however, he stopped speaking, his head turning towards the door as though he heard something
Biths, apparently, had very sharp hearing because abruptly there was indeed a knock on the door.
"Militia."
Alexandria.
Shit.
She stood up, ready to intercept the woman and hopefully tell her what the situation might possibly be when Rugess started, for lack of a better term, freaking out.
He patted Hannah's hands with his wrists, seemingly trying to grab hold of her. His sentences spilled out of his mouth in a word vomit that, even if she understood the language, would have been difficult to follow.
Did he recognize Alexandria's voice? Or was it something else?
"It's ok. It's ok, calm down," she implored, and his rapid sentences ceased but his wrists pressed tightly together, pinching her hand between them.
Another knock.
"Militia."
"I'm here," she answered, and she felt Rugess stiffen.
Alexandria took her acknowledgement as permission to come in, opening the door a second later.
Quick on the uptake as ever, the flying brick took one look around the room and seemed to realize exactly what was wrong. The moan of despair Rugess let out before trying to hide on the other side of the couch likely helped her deductions.
"... Shit," Militia heard her mutter under her breath.
It was… an apt summation of the situation.
(X)(X)(X)
When Shmi returned, she… hid her displeasure well. But it was there, hiding beneath a veneer of calm and disquieting false serenity, her face blank with pointed politeness.
Shmi had joked the other day that she was used to taking care of children and now, somehow, Hannah felt very much like a child talking to a disappointed parent.
"We didn't know-" she tried to explain again.
"I understand," Shmi said, speaking softly. "You needed credits."
She cringed.
Rugess was sitting on the couch, almost curled in on himself, staying far, far away from Alexandria
"We did," Alexandria answered with a cold, flat tone that made Hannah wince. "I'm sorry I hurt your friend, but we had our needs as well."
"And now you've met those," Shmi answered. "I suppose you'll be on your way, then?"
She didn't need to say the obvious: they would be leaving her friend-and her-holding the proverbial bag.
Alexandria's lips twisted in displeasure. "If you want us to leave…" She began. "We will leave."
Hannah's stomach turned.
It wasn't supposed to be like this. Heroes help people. They don't just leave others to pick up the collateral.
They weren't like that. They were supposed to be better.
"Let's take him with us."
Hannah blinked for a moment, having forgotten Dennis was here. All eyes rounded on the boy, who'd been standing quietly beside the dining room table.
He returned their gazes evenly; then shrugged. "Between the bounty and the arena, we have eighteen thousand credits. Off-world transport is a few hundred for each person; I checked. We can afford to take him off this dustbowl at the very least." He turned, looking at Shmi, and Hannah could tell he was thinking about extending the offer to her.
Shmi caught his thinking too.
"You don't need to take me," she said, turning towards Alexandria. "Rugess has no master and he's a skilled engineer. He can be useful to you."
Hannah turned, looking towards Alexandria in hopeful silence.
Alexandria's lips curled, and she turned away. "I'll remind the both of you that we don't know where we are, how far we can stretch this money, where the next proverbial paycheck will come from, or how much we'll need in the future. This…," She gestured between herself and the two slaves in the house, "is regrettable, but it's not…," she paused, "our problem."
Hannah knew, objectively, that all of that was true. And yet…
"This is wrong," she said, almost whispering the words beside the woman.
A muscle in Alexandria's jaw jumped, seemingly grinding her teeth. She turned, looking towards Dennis, and Hannah saw the boy meeting her gaze unflinchingly, almost glaring at the Triumvirate member.
Alexandria stared at him for a good, long moment. Then turned away, Militia could feel her mentor's eyes passing over her as well.
She took in the room, weighing her options and Hannah wondered if her saying anything would even sway her.
There was a time, once, where this conversation wouldn't have happened. Where Alexandria would have been the first to make Dennis' suggestion. But that time had long since passed.
It died with Hero
"Fine," Alexandria bit out and Hannah felt a knot uncoil from her chest. Turning to look at the Bith, who straightened in obvious surprise in his seat. "We'll take you off world with us."
The alien started rapid fire talking again, and for the first time since she returned home, Shmi's stony, disappointed facade cracked and a small, relieved smile slipped through.
"Now, let's decide where exactly we're going to actually go," their commander said next, and Hannah realized that, indeed, she had no idea where they were going.
Taking a seat by Shmi's dining room table Alexandria sighed, and for a moment Hannah thought the woman dearly wished she could remove her helmet.
"As Dennis so eloquently put it," she began, "we have eighteen thousand credits. With that, we can easily afford off-world transportation. I'd like to head towards the center of galactic power. Consensus states that it is a planet called Coruscant. But there are no transports that will take us from Tatooine to Coruscant directly." She turned towards Rugess and Shmi. "So you tell us: What would be our best route to actually reach Coruscant?"
The Bith started speaking, with Shmi translating for him. "Rugess asks what you're hoping to find on Coruscant."
"Information," Alexandria answered quickly. "Where we are, how we got here, a means to get back. Likely we won't find it on Coruscant, but as the center of this… Galactic Republic, it's bound to get us some leads."
Again, Rugess spoke and Shmi translated for him.
"Sounds like you just need a Holoet connection." Shmi cleared her throat. "He says that Coruscant is a planet of quintillions of people. You'll never find anything there. Other worlds might help more."
"Such as?" She wasn't dismissive of the idea, but rather genuinely curious.
Rugess answered.
"Alderaan, Naboo and Mandalore," Shmi translated, before she grew pensive and added her own comment. "The people who took my son came from Naboo." She smiled, a wistful turn to her lips. "He says that those planets have less traffic, and the people there are known to be cultured and diplomatic. They have libraries and can perhaps give you some help."
"And I suppose they have good medics that can help heal those hands," Alexandria observed.
Rugess' head bowed but he didn't deny it.
Hannah's one time mentor sighed "What can you tell us about these worlds and their people?"
"Naboo is a peaceful world," Shmi said, not waiting for Rugess to answer. "But they've… recently been attacked by the Trade Federation. I'm unsure as to the details, or how that's been resolved. They may be less trusting of outsiders, given that."
When Rugess next spoke, Shmi added, "Alderaan is considered to be one of the most peaceful planets in the galaxy. Their people are said to be very kind and welcoming. Of all the planets, you might be most welcome there. And Mandalore was once a very warlike planet, but they have recently been preaching pacifism under the New Mandalorians."
"Have you ever been to any of these places?" Hannah asked.
Rugess nodded.
"Mandalore," Shmi said for him. "It was a long time ago, before he came to be a slave."
"Might be good to show up with someone who knows the locals a bit," Dennis muttered. Militia couldn't disagree.
Alexandria looked to both of her fellow Protectorate-affiliated heroes in turn, seemingly making certain that they were certain.
They weren't, of course. They were all flying equally blind.
But at least now they had a direction.
"Alright then." She nodded. "Mandalore it is."
(X)(X)(X)
Spaceports don't close.
Rather obvious, really. Airports didn't close back home, so why should spaceports.
So it was, before the twin suns of Tatooine were even cresting over the distant crags, hills and dunes, with the light barely casting glimmers of gray across the sky that Hannah, Dennis and Alexandria found themselves at the Mos Eisley Spaceport.
Everything that they had could fit in a single suitcase. Alexandria had used some of their eighteen thousand credits to purchase two changes of clothes for each of them, three "communicators" that were the equivalent of phones or walkies, and two dataslates that would connect to the HoloNet once they reached a system with a proper uplink.
That was it. Even Rugess had a suitcase for himself, rather than a shared one between him and two other people
It really was… dismaying.
If something happened to them, any of them, in this place, this galaxy… there was not even a full suitcase to mark they were ever here.
Shmi saw them off, offering Rugess a hug and whispering reassurances to her friend as Alexandria went to the clerk to purchase their tickets.
The slave woman pulled away, turning to look at Dennis and offering him a soft smile.
Dennis, as genuine as she'd ever seen him, stretched out his hands, taking Shmi's in his grip and shaking them. "Thank you. For everything," he said, sincerely.
"It was no trouble. And you're helping Rugess," Shmi noted. "You've paid me back many fold, truly."
She noted Denis shift from foot to foot, his hands still holding onto Shmi's and she could read the question on his face, feel it bubbling up to the surface, the offer he was just about to give.
She knew what she should do. She knew she should interrupt, stop him, or at least, consult with Alexandria, try to convince her before Dennis made an offer he couldn't keep… or resent Alexandria for not keeping.
That's what she should do.
"We can come back."
She didn't recognize she spoke, not until Dennis and Shmi turned to look at her.
She startled herself… then realized it was true.
"We can come back," she repeated. "Alexandria's right that… things are very precarious now. But once we know, once we're more familiar…" They'd gotten eighteen thousand credits in three days. Who's to say what would happen in three months? In three years. "We can come and fr-"
"My son said the same," Shmi interrupted, that soft, quiet little smile back in place. That expression that said she knew something they didn't. "He dreamed of going off-world, becoming a Jedi and returning to free all the slaves of Tatooine. Ekkreth come to life."
It was wistful, like a faded dream, a childhood fairy tale.
She shook her head.
"You don't have to come back for me," Shmi whispered. "My son is free, my friend is free. Yes, I am a slave. But that is enough."
…
"We'll come back for you." Again, she hadn't realized she'd spoken, not until Dennis nodded and added, "Yeah. We'll get you to see an ocean planet before we head back home."
There was laughter in Shmi's eyes, a faded dream… another indulgent childhood fantasy.
"Perhaps you will be Ekkreth," Shmi muttered before bringing Dennis' hands up to kiss his knuckles, and then doing the same for Hannah's.
"Go," she urged. "Go and find your way back home."
They would find their way back. Hannah had to have faith in that.
That didn't mean they couldn't return to keep their promise along the way.
(X)(X)(X)
As promised, by Chapter 10, everyone is off their respective planets
As usual, Chapters 11, 12 and 13 are available on Patreon already for just 1 dollar per month; if you like what you've read here and would like to support me please feel free to follow the link in my sig below. We're almost to the halfway mark of our next community goal
Also, for those of you curious:
Yes Ekkreth is a cameo/homage name drop from the excellent "Double Agent Vader" fanfic series. Easilly one of the best SW Fanfics ever written IMO.
Hannah
Helping Shmi's Bith friend back to the slave woman's home was a slow affair. Bith bones, apparently, were different from that of humans, less dense, more easily splintered when broken. So keeping his shattered hands away from the rush of Tatooinian citizens that might bump into him or jostle the injuries was difficult at best; especially since most didn't seem to care enough to watch where they were going.
Shmi herself walked nervously; fidgeting at the unwanted attention they were drawing to themselves, and that was enough to put Hannah on edge, which didn't help matters.
Even so, with one step in front of the other, navigating through stretches of road they eventually made it back.
Opening the door, Hanah looked inside, finding thatDennis was awake, sitting at the dinner table. He stood at the sound of the door opening.
"Honestly, when I woke up and didn't find you guys I was a bit worr-oh hell." He blanched at the sight of the clearly injured Bith.
"Come on, Rugess, let's sit you down," Shmi soothed, ushering her friend over towards the living room couch. The blankets and pillows used by Hannah and Dennis were thankfully neatly folded on one side. The boy knew how to be a decent house guest.
The Bith muttered something in his language that Hannah could guess was some form of thanks but she wasn't wholly sure
"You just rest, love. I'll get you something to eat," Shmi promised, and though it was subtle, Hannah could see the glance of worry she tossed towards her kitchen and wondered if the slave woman had enough to feed so many.
She felt a twisting in her gut and looked to Dennis, who luckily caught her eye as she gestured with a jerk of her head for him to follow her the opposite direction of Shmi heading towards the kitchen, and giving the Bith plenty of room where he lay on the couch.
Once they had some semblance of privacy, Hannah leaned in close to whisper in Dennis' ear, "He fought in that arena yesterday."
Dennis' features scrunched up, then his eyes widened in realization. "Shit."
She nodded at his rather apt summation.
There was no guarantee Alexandria had been the one to hurt him. But if she was… that might make things more complicated.
Hannah took a breath. "You have another day with Watto, right?"
Dennis nodded. "That's the deal."
"Head out. Finish. If Alexandria heads there rather than here, let her know."
"Got it," he affirmed. "What are you gonna do?"
She turned, looking at the injured Bith and Shmi, fretting in the kitchen. "Help out around here."
(X)(X)(X)
As she'd suspected, Shmi didn't exactly have the luxury of staying at home all day helping an injured friend. Before long, Watto called for his slave and her work day had to get started.
So Hannah was left to help the injured Rugess.
Before that though, she needed to bathe. While thick, heavy clothing had done well enough to… smother the smell as it shielded her from the harshness of the desert sands and scorching twin suns; the reality was that she felt disgusting after so long without a proper shower.
Tattoine, unfortunately, did not have a "proper shower".
Desert planets and water, of course.
What they used instead were sonic based showers, where thrumming sound waves would quite literally break apart the filth and dead matter.
It was a decidedly… odd sensation, and she desperately missed the feeling of hot running water, but it was far better than nothing, scented powders and oils were used as replacements for soaps.
She swore the first chance she had, she was going to soak in a bathtub and not even Alexandria could stop her if she got in her way.
Once she was done cleaning herself she stepped out to start helping Shmi. Or, more specifically, Rugess.
She rebandaged his hands, using clean bandages from a first aid kit Shmi had, tossing away the ratty, bloodied sackcloth they'd been bound in before. She then spoonfed the Bith some porridge, which was… interesting to do to say the least, considering the odd shape of Bith mouths.
In short, if Alexandria had indeed hurt the man she was doing her best to make up for it, even if just by proxy.
She couldn't understand his language-but clearly he could understand her-and while he spoke and mimed his best to communicate through charades, she never got the feeling he was asking for something specific but rather asking about her through the impressions.
So she answered. She needed to practice their supposed cover story anyway.
"Our ship was destroyed in a crash along the Jundland Wastes," she answered, remembering one of the first bits of this planet's local norms: don't go to the Jundland Wastes. "So we're stuck here until we can afford transport off-world. Dennis is doing odd jobs, as you can tell, and I'm…" the words stuck in her throat, "...a bounty hunter."
Rugess nodded, mumbling something else she didn't understand, then raised his injured hands. She could guess he was referring to his job.
"Shmi said you were some sort of engineer?" Hannah prompted. He nodded, more enthusiastically now, his bulbous head making him look rather comical as he started talking in a rapid fire staccato of gibberish that was somehow even funnier.
It made her smile, seeing someone clearly passionate about their work, even as a slave.
It made her hate the industry all the more, as if she needed another reason; how all they saw were the injuries that supposedly made him "useless", rather than someone who obviously loved what he did and likely did it well as a result.
Suddenly, however, he stopped speaking, his head turning towards the door as though he heard something
Biths, apparently, had very sharp hearing because abruptly there was indeed a knock on the door.
"Militia."
Alexandria.
Shit.
She stood up, ready to intercept the woman and hopefully tell her what the situation might possibly be when Rugess started, for lack of a better term, freaking out.
He patted Hannah's hands with his wrists, seemingly trying to grab hold of her. His sentences spilled out of his mouth in a word vomit that, even if she understood the language, would have been difficult to follow.
Did he recognize Alexandria's voice? Or was it something else?
"It's ok. It's ok, calm down," she implored, and his rapid sentences ceased but his wrists pressed tightly together, pinching her hand between them.
Another knock.
"Militia."
"I'm here," she answered, and she felt Rugess stiffen.
Alexandria took her acknowledgement as permission to come in, opening the door a second later.
Quick on the uptake as ever, the flying brick took one look around the room and seemed to realize exactly what was wrong. The moan of despair Rugess let out before trying to hide on the other side of the couch likely helped her deductions.
"... Shit," Militia heard her mutter under her breath.
It was… an apt summation of the situation.
(X)(X)(X)
When Shmi returned, she… hid her displeasure well. But it was there, hiding beneath a veneer of calm and disquieting false serenity, her face blank with pointed politeness.
Shmi had joked the other day that she was used to taking care of children and now, somehow, Hannah felt very much like a child talking to a disappointed parent.
"We didn't know-" she tried to explain again.
"I understand," Shmi said, speaking softly. "You needed credits."
She cringed.
Rugess was sitting on the couch, almost curled in on himself, staying far, far away from Alexandria
"We did," Alexandria answered with a cold, flat tone that made Hannah wince. "I'm sorry I hurt your friend, but we had our needs as well."
"And now you've met those," Shmi answered. "I suppose you'll be on your way, then?"
She didn't need to say the obvious: they would be leaving her friend-and her-holding the proverbial bag.
Alexandria's lips twisted in displeasure. "If you want us to leave…" She began. "We will leave."
Hannah's stomach turned.
It wasn't supposed to be like this. Heroes help people. They don't just leave others to pick up the collateral.
They weren't like that. They were supposed to be better.
"Let's take him with us."
Hannah blinked for a moment, having forgotten Dennis was here. All eyes rounded on the boy, who'd been standing quietly beside the dining room table.
He returned their gazes evenly; then shrugged. "Between the bounty and the arena, we have eighteen thousand credits. Off-world transport is a few hundred for each person; I checked. We can afford to take him off this dustbowl at the very least." He turned, looking at Shmi, and Hannah could tell he was thinking about extending the offer to her.
Shmi caught his thinking too.
"You don't need to take me," she said, turning towards Alexandria. "Rugess has no master and he's a skilled engineer. He can be useful to you."
Hannah turned, looking towards Alexandria in hopeful silence.
Alexandria's lips curled, and she turned away. "I'll remind the both of you that we don't know where we are, how far we can stretch this money, where the next proverbial paycheck will come from, or how much we'll need in the future. This…," She gestured between herself and the two slaves in the house, "is regrettable, but it's not…," she paused, "our problem."
Hannah knew, objectively, that all of that was true. And yet…
"This is wrong," she said, almost whispering the words beside the woman.
A muscle in Alexandria's jaw jumped, seemingly grinding her teeth. She turned, looking towards Dennis, and Hannah saw the boy meeting her gaze unflinchingly, almost glaring at the Triumvirate member.
Alexandria stared at him for a good, long moment. Then turned away, Militia could feel her mentor's eyes passing over her as well.
She took in the room, weighing her options and Hannah wondered if her saying anything would even sway her.
There was a time, once, where this conversation wouldn't have happened. Where Alexandria would have been the first to make Dennis' suggestion. But that time had long since passed.
It died with Hero
"Fine," Alexandria bit out and Hannah felt a knot uncoil from her chest. Turning to look at the Bith, who straightened in obvious surprise in his seat. "We'll take you off world with us."
The alien started rapid fire talking again, and for the first time since she returned home, Shmi's stony, disappointed facade cracked and a small, relieved smile slipped through.
"Now, let's decide where exactly we're going to actually go," their commander said next, and Hannah realized that, indeed, she had no idea where they were going.
Taking a seat by Shmi's dining room table Alexandria sighed, and for a moment Hannah thought the woman dearly wished she could remove her helmet.
"As Dennis so eloquently put it," she began, "we have eighteen thousand credits. With that, we can easily afford off-world transportation. I'd like to head towards the center of galactic power. Consensus states that it is a planet called Coruscant. But there are no transports that will take us from Tatooine to Coruscant directly." She turned towards Rugess and Shmi. "So you tell us: What would be our best route to actually reach Coruscant?"
The Bith started speaking, with Shmi translating for him. "Rugess asks what you're hoping to find on Coruscant."
"Information," Alexandria answered quickly. "Where we are, how we got here, a means to get back. Likely we won't find it on Coruscant, but as the center of this… Galactic Republic, it's bound to get us some leads."
Again, Rugess spoke and Shmi translated for him.
"Sounds like you just need a Holoet connection." Shmi cleared her throat. "He says that Coruscant is a planet of quintillions of people. You'll never find anything there. Other worlds might help more."
"Such as?" She wasn't dismissive of the idea, but rather genuinely curious.
Rugess answered.
"Alderaan, Naboo and Mandalore," Shmi translated, before she grew pensive and added her own comment. "The people who took my son came from Naboo." She smiled, a wistful turn to her lips. "He says that those planets have less traffic, and the people there are known to be cultured and diplomatic. They have libraries and can perhaps give you some help."
"And I suppose they have good medics that can help heal those hands," Alexandria observed.
Rugess' head bowed but he didn't deny it.
Hannah's one time mentor sighed "What can you tell us about these worlds and their people?"
"Naboo is a peaceful world," Shmi said, not waiting for Rugess to answer. "But they've… recently been attacked by the Trade Federation. I'm unsure as to the details, or how that's been resolved. They may be less trusting of outsiders, given that."
When Rugess next spoke, Shmi added, "Alderaan is considered to be one of the most peaceful planets in the galaxy. Their people are said to be very kind and welcoming. Of all the planets, you might be most welcome there. And Mandalore was once a very warlike planet, but they have recently been preaching pacifism under the New Mandalorians."
"Have you ever been to any of these places?" Hannah asked.
Rugess nodded.
"Mandalore," Shmi said for him. "It was a long time ago, before he came to be a slave."
"Might be good to show up with someone who knows the locals a bit," Dennis muttered. Militia couldn't disagree.
Alexandria looked to both of her fellow Protectorate-affiliated heroes in turn, seemingly making certain that they were certain.
They weren't, of course. They were all flying equally blind.
But at least now they had a direction.
"Alright then." She nodded. "Mandalore it is."
(X)(X)(X)
Spaceports don't close.
Rather obvious, really. Airports didn't close back home, so why should spaceports.
So it was, before the twin suns of Tatooine were even cresting over the distant crags, hills and dunes, with the light barely casting glimmers of gray across the sky that Hannah, Dennis and Alexandria found themselves at the Mos Eisley Spaceport.
Everything that they had could fit in a single suitcase. Alexandria had used some of their eighteen thousand credits to purchase two changes of clothes for each of them, three "communicators" that were the equivalent of phones or walkies, and two dataslates that would connect to the HoloNet once they reached a system with a proper uplink.
That was it. Even Rugess had a suitcase for himself, rather than a shared one between him and two other people
It really was… dismaying.
If something happened to them, any of them, in this place, this galaxy… there was not even a full suitcase to mark they were ever here.
Shmi saw them off, offering Rugess a hug and whispering reassurances to her friend as Alexandria went to the clerk to purchase their tickets.
The slave woman pulled away, turning to look at Dennis and offering him a soft smile.
Dennis, as genuine as she'd ever seen him, stretched out his hands, taking Shmi's in his grip and shaking them. "Thank you. For everything," he said, sincerely.
"It was no trouble. And you're helping Rugess," Shmi noted. "You've paid me back many fold, truly."
She noted Denis shift from foot to foot, his hands still holding onto Shmi's and she could read the question on his face, feel it bubbling up to the surface, the offer he was just about to give.
She knew what she should do. She knew she should interrupt, stop him, or at least, consult with Alexandria, try to convince her before Dennis made an offer he couldn't keep… or resent Alexandria for not keeping.
That's what she should do.
"We can come back."
She didn't recognize she spoke, not until Dennis and Shmi turned to look at her.
She startled herself… then realized it was true.
"We can come back," she repeated. "Alexandria's right that… things are very precarious now. But once we know, once we're more familiar…" They'd gotten eighteen thousand credits in three days. Who's to say what would happen in three months? In three years. "We can come and fr-"
"My son said the same," Shmi interrupted, that soft, quiet little smile back in place. That expression that said she knew something they didn't. "He dreamed of going off-world, becoming a Jedi and returning to free all the slaves of Tatooine. Ekkreth come to life."
It was wistful, like a faded dream, a childhood fairy tale.
She shook her head.
"You don't have to come back for me," Shmi whispered. "My son is free, my friend is free. Yes, I am a slave. But that is enough."
…
"We'll come back for you." Again, she hadn't realized she'd spoken, not until Dennis nodded and added, "Yeah. We'll get you to see an ocean planet before we head back home."
There was laughter in Shmi's eyes, a faded dream… another indulgent childhood fantasy.
"Perhaps you will be Ekkreth," Shmi muttered before bringing Dennis' hands up to kiss his knuckles, and then doing the same for Hannah's.
"Go," she urged. "Go and find your way back home."
They would find their way back. Hannah had to have faith in that.
That didn't mean they couldn't return to keep their promise along the way.
(X)(X)(X)
As promised, by Chapter 10, everyone is off their respective planets
As usual, Chapters 11, 12 and 13 are available on Patreon already for just 1 dollar per month; if you like what you've read here and would like to support me please feel free to follow the link in my sig below. We're almost to the halfway mark of our next community goal
Also, for those of you curious:
Yes Ekkreth is a cameo/homage name drop from the excellent "Double Agent Vader" fanfic series. Easilly one of the best SW Fanfics ever written IMO.
Last edited:
- Location
- Russia
Yis. Ekkreth.
Mandalorian style armor can be a very good thing for Dennis. He can make himself understandably (for locals) invulnerable in such armor
How Will be Militia considered by the traditional mandalorians? She gives beyond "guns is my religion "
Will we see Alexandria as a new Mandalore?
P.S. wait, did Alexandria here is "never took the helmet off"?
Mandalorian style armor can be a very good thing for Dennis. He can make himself understandably (for locals) invulnerable in such armor
How Will be Militia considered by the traditional mandalorians? She gives beyond "guns is my religion "
Will we see Alexandria as a new Mandalore?
P.S. wait, did Alexandria here is "never took the helmet off"?
Icipall
Don't worry, we can fanfix that!
- Location
- Cold snow fields of Finland
Hannah.
I see those complications getting here very soon.
There's a reason why moisture farming is so important.
And the complications have arrived!
Like only a mother can.
Huh, that's a surprise twist.
HoloNet.
Heh, so close going to the same planet Taylor and Vicky have arrived. Now lets hope that Deathwatch decides to stay quiet, mostly for their sake.
Makes you think how small you actually are, doesn't it?
Fandom references!
- Location
- Neptune
The shard is not in THAT galaxy. Connection distance is irrelevant.
TheatrclBarristr
Not a barrister
- Pronouns
- He/Him
According to Wookiepedia, Coruscant has a population of 1 trillion, or in the trillions, depending on what you count as canon. Saying it is a million times larger is like someone claiming the United States has a population of 350 trillion.
Cloak&Dagger
Definitely Insane
Realistically a eucumenopolis that looks like Coruscant would have quadrillions. The 'canon' numbers are comical and I'm happy to see the author going with realism instead.
TheatrclBarristr
Not a barrister
- Pronouns
- He/Him
You think quintillions is realistic?
Cloak&Dagger
Definitely Insane
Yes, that's what applying IRL city population density to the volume of a Eucumenopolis gets you.