The Weaving Force

Chapter 99 New
Chapter 99:

Druv Kajan
didn't consider himself particularly smart Twi'lek. He knew what was right and what he wanted, which was the Twi'leks freed from under the iron palanquin of the Hutts.

Anything in pursuit of that he was normally ok to do.

This latest scheme though… he would admit it made him uneasy.

Kidnapping a Hutt was a big deal.

Normally he would have been all for it. Hitting the Hutts where it hurts was the only way to achieve any lasting results.

The problem was… honestly everything else.

For one thing, the Hutt in question wasn't a giant, ten thousand pound slug. It was a baby, one he was in charge of ferrying around in a handbasket. That's how small it was.

Second, it was Jabba's baby.

And unlike some Hutts, Jabba could send, and did, a literal army to go get his boy back.

Druv didn't consider himself smart, but he knew that this had escalated far beyond anything that was in their control.

It felt like they were holding a Nexu by the ears. You didn't like it, but you didn't dare let it go.

Listening to Kabir and Vedant arguing back and forth for the last three days on what they should do kept adding to his certainty that they were now in way over their heads.

Return the kid, negotiate with the kid as a bargaining chip, run away from Ryloth, give the kid to the Mandalorians, all of these things carried so many risks and ways that it could blow up in their faces.

"I'm telling you, we don't have a fucking choice! If we lose the kid, we lose all our leverage!"

"We barely even have any leverage to begin with! The second we send a message we'll be tracked and hit with every two-bit bounty hunter and scumbag Jabba's brought in here!"

"They won't! Or we kill the kid!"

Druv tried not to wince at that. He was comfortable trying almost any of the options but honestly, killing the kid wasn't one of them.

The little drooler had grown on him.

Like mold.

Or fungus.

As if to provide an accent to his thoughts, Rotta - that was the little drooler's name - gurgled and tried to gnaw on the hand holding the basket.

Suddenly, the comline to the security team at the front entrance opened up.

"What is it, Gaius?" Kabir barked, his yellow skin looking almost sickly in its sheen.

"Yeah, uhhh, Boss, we got Mandalorians flying our way. Bout a dozen of 'em on jetpacks."

Kabir rounded on Vedant snarling. "You went behind my back on this!"

"Don't you look at me you bleeding idiot! You've scared the whole damn crew a million times over with how much heat this plan of yours brought on us. It was only a matter of time before someone leaked it just to get this bomb off our laps!" He shouted, gesturing towards Rotta.

But Druv, through the rapidly escalating argument heard something very peculiar through Gaius' comm, muttered under his breath, not realizing the line was still open.

"Is it just me, or is that one flying without a jetpack?"


Obi Wan:

Answer: Host helped us slay [Warrior] entity.


The words rolled around in Obi-Wan's head. They'd been doing so for the last few days, really.

If the Queen Administrator, judging by the language and context, was a shard of this… Warrior entity, what exactly could constitute something of that magnitude? That scale?

And how in the Force could Taylor have contributed in any way in destroying something like that?

She hadn't had the Force; her control over insects, while impressive and powerful in its own right against normal people, was notable, but there was no feasible way it was applicable to entities on the scale of the Administrator and he assumed the Warrior.

It was just… it boggled the mind and-

"I'm thinking red and gold."

Obi-Wan had to blink, staring uncomprehendingly at his bowl of nominal salad for a few seconds as he was wrenched from his thoughts, turning his eyes up towards Anakin who chewed on the crunchy mix of vegetables, nuts and meat with a thoughtful frown on his face.

"Beg pardon?" He said, his brain still not quite understanding.

"A color scheme for the 501st." Anakin nodded. "Gold and red."

Obi-Wan's mouth opened, closed, opened and closed.

"I… what?"

Anakin finally looked at him, frowning with a mouthful of… whatever these plants and foodstuffs were. "You ok, Obi-Wan?" His student asked him as if he were the one acting oddly. "It's a pretty simple thing. The 501st should have its own color scheme. Gold and red."

"Anakin…" Obi-Wan tried not to sputter, but really, just… how. "We just met with a being that challenges all that we knew about life and evolution in our galaxy. We've delved very deeply, possibly too deeply in the eddies and currents of the Force, a Jedi Master has been put to sleep for three days and her Padawan now feels odd in the Force as well. How are you thinking about color schemes for the clones!? Not even Logistics or organization, things that would be useful, but color schemes?"

Anakin shrugged. "Noble team is black and gold, I hear Vicky's looking to make her legion white and gold, so why not join the trend? Red and gold sounds like a really sweet color scheme if you pull it off tastefully." The boy nodded to himself as Obi-Wan had to repeat, several times, in his head that Jedi were not allowed to beat their students over the head with their lightsaber hilts.

"And besides, it can totally be useful." Anakin grinned. "Quick identification of our men, the morale boost of knowing the 501st is there, propaganda and recruitment reels. As Vicky would say, don't underestimate good marketing, Master."



"Jedi are not allowed to hate."

"Jedi are not allowed to hate."

"He's your student… and no you can't revoke his knighthood just because he annoys you."


Obi-Wan glared, staring deadpan as Anakin stuffed his gob with yet more food with a stupid blasted smile on his face, showing that he knew exactly how annoying he was being.

"Are you seriously unbothered by anything that happened?" He asked. "Nothing of it even phased you?"

Anakin shrugged. "What are we gonna do by dwelling on it, Master? Taylor's still resting, and I'm sure when she wakes up they'll be talking about it. After those talks, there'll be more talks and so on until everythings sorted out or we go in for a second run. I guess I just don't see much point in going round in circles about it."

Again, Obi-Wan's mouth opened, closed, opened and closed.

He was not going to say his student had a point…

That would just be feeding his ego.

Instead, the Jedi Master groaned, leaning forward to cradle his head in his hands. "You're impossible."

"I would describe myself as easy going." Anakin cheekily replied.

The entry door to their lodging area opened, and Master Plo Koon and Ahsoka marched in.

"Ahh," Anakin smiled, raising his hand with the utensil still between his fingers. "Snips, Master Plo."

"Hey, Master."

"Knight Skywalker. Master Kenobi."

The two new arrivals greeted them easily, and Obi-Wan took it as a good sign.

Though, Karla was not with them so… perhaps not.

Even so… "How did the testing go?" Obi-Wan asked, perhaps betraying his urgency by leaning forward just a bit.

"It… proceeded." Master Plo answered haltingly.

"We're not really sure what's going on." Ahsoka summarized with a shrug. "Masters Plo, Gallia and Yoda meditated with us, but…" She trailed off, shrugging.

Obi-Wan turned to Plo Koon in confusion.

The Kel Dor sighed, shoulders sagging. "We attempted another communion with… this new entity. But I believe it was… too young. It was startled. I think."

"Too young?" Obi-Wan blinked.

"Do these things even age like we do?" Anakin asked curiously, mouth stuffed with food, again!

The Council member got the feeling that his colleague was resisting the urge to throw up his hands in helplessness. "We do not know. As I said, I believe it was startled. It did not speak to us, but we didn't notice anything… awry with young Karla."

"So what powers did she get!?" Anakin asked, and Obi-Wan stopped himself from looking at him because if his student even looked half as giddy as he sounded, he would not be held responsible for the titanic head slap he would deliver.

"We're unsure."

"Oh, come on!"

"That's what I said." Ahsoka helpfully piped up.

Plo Koon sighed, fingers rising to press against a spot on his forehead, as if trying to stave off a headache. "We thought it best to avoid testing until Master Hebert wakes up. She has the most experience dealing with this type of thing after all."

"Where is Karla now?" Obi-Wan asked.

"She accompanied Master Yoda… or perhaps that was the other way around, to go check on Master Hebert."

"We really don't know anything?" Anakin needled, and Obi-Wan had to do a double take to see his idiot of a student was indeed trying to give Plo Koon sad eyes.

Did the communion revert him to a bloody child!?

Plo Koon sighed. "We're beginning to suspect there is some kind of… mental aspect to it. I believe Victoria and Taylor perhaps would have classified it as a Thinker power?"

"Oh yeah." Anakin nodded. "They had a little song about the categories too. How did that go again?"

Obi-Wan ignored him. "Is there any word or estimate at least as to when Master Hebert will awaken?"

"Master Yaddle and Master Gallia have been by her side, overseeing her recovery." Plo Koon nodded. "Tonight, or early tomorrow most likely."

Obi-Wan nodded. "We can hope-"

"Are you guys ever actually going to tell me what happened out there?" Ahsoka chimed in.

"Super happy fun times." Anakin answered immediately.

Ahsoka offered him a very dry, flat look. "Master, I'm not an idiot." She groused.

"No-" Anakin conceded easily with a cheeky smirk. "-but you are jealous you missed out on the 'super happy fun times'."

As Ahsoka's tiny fist smacked him in the shoulder, Obi-Wan sighed, realizing that while his student had certainly distracted his Padawan from her questioning, just… why did he have to be like this while doing so?

Then again, Obi-Wan himself was distracted from his own… concerns. So maybe there was more to Anakin acting like a child right now for everyone around him.

"By the way, Master Plo, you think gold and red work as a color scheme, right?"



"Wouldn't that look really gaudy?" Ahsoka asked.

"Not if you have the right shades of gold and red. Slightly darker tones on the spectrum, I think." Plo Koon mused.

Obi-Wan did his best to count back from ten.



Tarkiv Wren

Tarkiv Wren was rapidly beginning to reevaluate many things in his life.

All within the last five minutes, really.

When the bloody senator of Mandalore, the vizier to the Duchess Satine had shown up, literally on their bloody doorstep unannounced, he knew he was in for a damn shit show.

Escorting politicians, guarding politicians, was never fun.

Buncha pompous shits that had never been outside of air conditioned rooms with filtered scents, soft silks and cushioned seats. Never had to work a day in their lives.

He felt, at the time, that she should have just sent her orders and they would've handled it like professionals and dealt with things. No need for the encumbrance of her presence.

When the higher ups had given information that they had on Rotta's whereabouts, then came the first of the surprises.

The vizier could apparently fly.

Without a jetpack.

Strange, certainly, and he wondered how she did it, but he hardly wanted her on a mission with him and his squad. She wasn't even armed or armored.

It made no bloody sense and he said as much, not that she cared.

When they approached the Twi'lek hidden base where Rotta was supposedly being held, he thought she was wasting even more time when she said: "Let me handle this."

Typical politician, he'd thought. Wasting time talking and giving them advance warning when just hitting them hard and fast would just get the job done sooner with a lot less risk.

Then she proceeded to… well… 'handle it'.

He could have probably… well… accepted her actually being ready to fight, but her quite literally walking through a hail of gunfire, explosions and walls with nothing more than a (increasingly tattered) dress was something he was finding particularly hard to swallow.

The only communication she offered them was just a demanding look towards Farghel, their tech specialist, who was tracking life signs in the base.

And all Farghel would answer with was a shaky, pointed finger.

She'd walk into the next room, usually through a wall, beat the hell out of whatever Twi'leks were inside, and then do the same thing over and over and over again.

Watching a rather gorgeous half naked woman folding a bunch of idiots in half was supposed to be… well… not terror inducing. It should have been quite a different reaction, but he was too scared for the 'other reaction', really.

This woman was bloody terrifying.

Finally, the woman kicked in a new door into one final room where three Twi'leks, a blue one, a green one and a yellow one were, holding guns in trembling hands, with a happily gurgling baby slug.

Lady Alexandria paused, the dust settling around the destroyed ruins of the wall.

The yellow Twi'lek shot her.

It worked about as well as the other half a million shots before this.

Alexandria just stood there, the blaster bolts literally not doing anything until the Twi'lek finally had to release the trigger lest the whole rifle overheat.

With a rustle of… well… rags, the last of Alexandria's clothes fell off.

She really was gorgeous, but there was a spectrum between beauty and fear, and she was just too far in one direction for him. He could admit that he'd let a braver soul deal with that if anyone ever mustered up the courage.

Finally the woman took a breath. "I'm going to put on a new cloak now." She said. "Put a hole in it and I will put a hole in you." She promised.

She snapped her fingers in Tarkiv's general direction and before he knew it, he was ripping off Daxon's cloak, almost choking the man to hand it to her.

"If by the time I put this on Rotta the Hutt isn't in the hands of one of my Mandalorians, we will have problems.

Tarkiv suddenly had an armful of wiggling slug… and he wasn't sure what to do with it.

Alexandria finished fastening the cloak around herself, once more becoming clothed.

"Now. Who came up with this plan of kidnapping the VIP kid?"

The Twi'leks didn't answer.

But apparently they didn't need to.

She turned towards the yellow Twi'lek.

"Captain Wren."

"Yes, Lady Alexandria?" The captain straightened.

"Take this one into custody for rank stupidity."

They didn't exactly have prison facilities in their camp, but he was pretty sure the Captain was gonna make them.

The Vizier asked for a prisoner, she'd get a prisoner.

She turned to the other two. "Which of you two thought this plan was stupid?"

Again, the three Twi'leks didn't answer.

Again, they didn't need to.

She pointed towards the blue one that had been holding Rotta previously.

"You'll do. You're in charge now." She said simply. "You'll be working closely with Clan Wren and reporting to me. You won't be doing anymore stupid plans. If I have to come back here, there will be problems. For you specifically. Make sure I don't have to come back here."

She turned around, plucking the wriggling Rotta out of Tarkiv's arms as the little slug was trying to chew through his vambrace, tiny hands now reaching for the piece of armor.

Cradling the baby Hutt in her arms she tossed a look towards the Twi'leks and Mandalorian squad. "Don't. Fuck. Up."

And she floated out of the new door she'd made.

There was a moment of silence, a long, LONG silence.

The blue Twi'lek finally threw up his hands.

"WHAT!?"

Tarkiv agreed.



CT-45621

45621, or now known as Crisis Manager by his brothers, had never known that the sound of someone marching onto the bridge could fill his heart with dread, but there it was.

Neither did he ever think he'd understand the people who claimed breathing into a bag helped. But right now he could certainly understand.

If paper bags existed on this ship, he'd be using it.

Alas, they didn't.

And so the comms officer had to grip the metal of his workstation like a lifeline to stop himself from trembling, watching as Lady Alexandria made her way towards the Chancellor with what looked like hand me down clothes and a moth-eaten cloak.

Palpatine raised an eyebrow. "Did you get mugged by street rats?"

"Bite me." Alexandria sneered, holding up Rotta. "We got him back. So call up Jabba and settle on an agreement that gets them to fuck off so we can go home and get back to actual politics."

With the press of a button the hail was sent out, calling the opposing fleet.

Crisis could certainly agree. Going home sounded really, really good right now.

The line opened up, a Nikto subcommander answering. "Yea-"

"Me?"

Oh no…

Palpatine's hand shot out, pressing a button and dropping the line as he shook his head. "Oh no no, my dear. I'll remind you again, this is your mess. I was merely delaying things until you secured the child. You negotiate now."

The line came back up.

This time Alexandria hung up, shaking her head. "Right, so I can walk into whatever political landmine you set up for me while I was busy down there? No. You call them and you talk. I'll intervene if you're pulling something.

Again the line came up-

And was immediately hung up again.

"And you expect me to just negotiate with no knowledge of how you bungled your way into however many war crimes down there so when I return home I need to answer why I authorized such a brutal operation against the Twi'leks?"

The line rang.

And was hung up.

"Bungled!?"

The Chancellor smirked. "Not denying the war crimes part, I see."

"You're not denying the political landmine thing either."

"No, I didn't.

Crisis looked down at his systems.

…Maybe he should just let them shoot without telling these two that the opposing fleet's weapons were being charged?

Sounded like a really, really good idea right about now…

(X)(X)(X)


Alright so; this chapter I'll admit is a little wonky, but difficulties in RL kinda made me cut the previous chapter short which meant that this one was filled with things that should have been in Chapter 98 and things had to be worked around but regardless I hope you all liked it anyway in spite of the wonkiness. Next chapter we're back to proper pacing and we'll be able to find out what exactly happened with Karla and the aftermath towards Taylor as they make their way back to Corruscant to meet up with everyone before we finally proceed to the "last arc" before my big break where I will be taking off in order to go and finish my original work.

This chapter was obviously meant to be more humorous than anything. Alexandria and Palpatine will have far far more serious moments in the future; but for now its fun to just take the piss on the absurdity of the two of them a bit.

Just a bit though. This won't become a parody fic :)

Next chapter is a pretty important interlude and we've got 2 more chapters beyond that ahead of time on Patreon for just $1.00 for those of you interested along with advance chapters for other works and exclusive artwork. So join us if you're interested :)
 
And unlike some Hutts, Jabba could send, and did, a literal army to go get his boy back.

Druv didn't consider himself smart, but he knew that this had escalated far beyond anything that was in their control.
Hutts are a galactic power for a reason.
The little drooler had grown on him.

Like mold.

Or fungus.
For a Hutt, Rotta is kinda adorable.
If the Queen Administrator, judging by the language and context, was a shard of this… Warrior entity, what exactly could constitute something of that magnitude? That scale?
Something very strong, but also very stupid.
Anakin shrugged. "What are we gonna do by dwelling on it, Master? Taylor's still resting, and I'm sure when she wakes up they'll be talking about it. After those talks, there'll be more talks and so on until everythings sorted out or we go in for a second run. I guess I just don't see much point in going round in circles about it."
He does have a point.
Obi-Wan did his best to count back from ten.
"Why do I get the feeling you're going to be the death of me?"
Watching a rather gorgeous half naked woman folding a bunch of idiots in half was supposed to be… well… not terror inducing. It should have been quite a different reaction, but he was too scared for the 'other reaction', really.

This woman was bloody terrifying.
Hey, don't kink shame!
"Take this one into custody for rank stupidity."
Wish you could arrest people of that irl.
The blue Twi'lek finally threw up his hands.

"WHAT!?"

Tarkiv agreed.
Situation was handled.
Palpatine's hand shot out, pressing a button and dropping the line as he shook his head. "Oh no no, my dear. I'll remind you again, this is your mess. I was merely delaying things until you secured the child. You negotiate now."
Funnily, he does kinda have a point.
…Maybe he should just let them shoot without telling these two that the opposing fleet's weapons were being charged?

Sounded like a really, really good idea right about now…
No, CT-45621, don't do it, you still have so much to live for! Like cameoing in the sequel when Palpatine and Alexandria team up again.
 
Because as noted over on the SB version of this story Papa Palpatine is massive Adrenalin Junkie and Alexandria is his biggest hit/fix of Adrenalin so far.

palps: "This women could really kill me like really one literal tap and I'm dead... I think I'm in love... how do I walk that line with her one step off and I'll be dead..." XD
 
Interlude: New
Interlude

Sev'rance Tann


The Force, to her, had always been… an academic pursuit.

A tool.

A useful tool. Powerful, versatile. It enhanced her already considerable abilities beyond the capacity of mortals to keep up with.

But it had always been that. Just that.

She did not believe in the mysticism of the Force. She did not consider its will or philosophize about the higher mysteries like Jedi did.

She did not care.

There was this world. This life and what one could achieve in it.

And as such, the Force was useful. Nothing more, nothing less.

But even she had to acknowledge that what she'd sensed, what she felt… shook her.

She'd felt it before.

And she knew someone who'd felt it with her.

She wouldn't normally lower herself to descend to this world. Like the Force itself, it was useful for resources: manpower, industrial capacity, but little beyond that and she liked it that way.

But needs must when the devil drives.

And so, down she went, off her ship, into the dry dust, crags and valleys. Through the factories, the hives, and the endless oceans of droids.

Down, down, down, where the sun would never reach and black secrets were birthed in the unseen corners of this world, a world now teeming with the capacity for war.

It didn't take long to find him… or the ones with him.

The dark side flowed and churned like a thick soup. It pooled in this place, sucked in by baleful ritual and desperate grasps for any scrap of power.

The white of her uniform stood out amidst the darkness.

The Witches of Dathomir, however, seemed right at home.

The red robed dark side wielders eyed her with eyes that reminded her of serpents, hidden smiles and better hidden daggers, flittering through oily shadows cast by green torchlight.

She marched past them, her senses extended, wary of any threat. And they were threats, especially with this one standing beside them.

She cast her eyes about the room. Dark sorceries clawed at the bones and rotting flesh. The telltale signs of experiments and deep pursuits of alchemy, Sith alchemy, were visible even from here. A great, blood red spawning pool bubbled near the center of the chamber, mixtures and concoctions melding and fusing together within.

Something black shifted in the morass of it all, black and solid. Her senses brushed across it but the Force… died as it drew close.

It was the only way she could describe it.

She felt queasy, a disquiet in her body and spirit even as she turned away to finally look upon her target, hunched over a holocron, words in black speech slipping from its whispers and slithering into his ear.

"Jorus," She called.

The fallen Jedi's profile was pale, gaunt. He looked like he hadn't eaten in days. His flesh was sallow and thin, his fingers long and gnarled, nails yellow and rotting.

He looked half a corpse himself.

Sidious had told her, when she asked why he was not worried about Jorus' growing power in the black arts of necromancy, that 'the fool will lose more than he gains'.

To her, the Force was a useful tool.

To Palpatine, Jorus was the useful tool. The useful fool, pursuing a short cut, a dead end to power.

It seemed her teacher was right.

As he turned to her, the man's eyes glowed yellow in the gloom, the dark side sorcery left almost a mark on his very spirit. Sickly and decaying, like putrescent ooze, that made her senses almost recoil.

His power was growing, it was true. His arrogance with it.

But that same arrogance was blinding him to how much he was withering away.

Even so, he'd been there. He'd sensed it too.

He must've sensed it now.

The man sucked in a breath

"Why are you here?" He breathed, and the words carried the feel of corpse mold, of bone meal and tomb dust.

This thing was already lost.

The Force was a tool.

And this one had let the tool turn itself into the wielder.

Even so, for now, she could use him. Everyone else was, it seemed.

She took a breath.

"I take it you sensed it? That… upheaval in the Force."

"Don't insult me." The man sneered. "Of course I sensed it." He turned away, back to his holocron and scrolls. "You and that mongrel can trade notes yourselves. I already know its cause."

"Komari isn't on the planet-" She clarified. The woman was unpleasant, but Tann would have much preferred speaking with her. Near rabid the assassin might have been on most days with her hatred, but she was at least more pleasant company than Jorus. And arguably more intelligent, given that her own ego didn't get in the way. "-and the Master is occupied."

He wasn't answering his comms. Which was unusual.

Jorus scoffed.

But still, what he'd said all but confirmed her initial suspicions. "It was her, wasn't it? Hebert?"

Corellia. What she'd sensed… it'd been just like Corellia.

"Abomination." Jorus' voice and soul seethed with hate, his yellow eyes burning like embers. "The Council should have killed her when she was nothing more than a frightened, useless mute. Fools."

'Yes, yes. It's always someone else who made the error.'

Wisely, she didn't voice those thoughts. Clasping her hands behind her back she did continue. "What's done is done. The question now is how do we address this. If she's grown powerful enough that we can sense such a thing while not even being within the same star system… Well… It presents a bit of a wrinkle in our plans."

"It does not." He insisted, voice cracking with an edge of… not quite hysteria. Not yet, anyway. "Unlike you, playing with your tin soldiers, I've been preparing to destroy that little mistake."

'Those tin soldiers are the only thing that will allow your… pets to not be filled with blaster bolts before they've even had time to devour their first Force-sensitive.'

Again, she refrained from speaking aloud.

"All I want to know," She ventured instead. "Is what was she doing? What could have necessitated that much raw power?"

Jorus snarled, turning his baleful eyes on her with bared teeth. "Why not ask your leash holder?"

"So you don't know." She sighed, rolling her eyes. "Pointless waste of time."

"What she was doing will not matter once she's dead." The fallen madman dismissed. "Leave me. I have work to do."

She rolled her eyes, casting one more look over this… charnel house. The stink of madness and desperation almost felt like it clung to her very clothes.

She turned and walked away, there was nothing more to be gained here.

Approaching her entry point, one of the red robed witches seemed to bleed out of the shadows. Sev'rance didn't tense or draw her weapon, merely turned and gave a disdainful look towards the leering cultist, who smiled at her.

"A message." The woman whispered softly, her voice nearly lost amidst the strange stillness of this dead place. "For your Master."

Sev raised an eyebrow. "From whom?" She asked. "I'm not Jorus' messenger girl."

But the witch shook her head. "No. Not the one who walks in death. From the Mother."

Mother Talzin.

In truth, Sev'rance knew very little about the head of the witch cult. Though she knew that her master and the coven head were very powerful and were cooperating for mutual benefit… for now.

As such, begrudging though it might have been, she was curious as to what exactly the red witch had to say.

"Speak then." She demanded.

The woman's smile grew. "The mother warns. Your Master must beware."

The Chiss woman let her eyes narrow. "Beware of what? Jorus?"

Not good. Killing Jorus was always a foregone conclusion at some point. But at the height of this conflict, before they'd eliminated the most dangerous pieces on the board, losing him so prematurely to his own idiotic betrayal would be a heavy, wasteful blow to her strategies and Sidious' plans.

But then her fears were allayed, the witch shaking her head as she giggled.

"No. Not him. Never him. Your Master must beware. The Mother has foreseen it. Beware the one."

The witch smiled giggling.

"The One who burns and does not die."

(X)(X)(X)

Ok, So Patreon is giving me some serious trouble right now for some reason; getting an error code when I try to log in so I couldn't upload the advance chapter as usual but I want everyone to be aware it is ready and it will be posted tonight/later as soon as the error is "resolved"

Now; with that out of the way, We have now officially entered the "final stretch" of this part of the story before I take my big break/hiatus to finish my original work. Two thirds of Palpatine's pseudo triumvirate have been busy in their respective fields and there's some pretty clear hints as to where the next big battlefield is going to be and what they've been preparing on it :3

Its a shortie but a goodie. Next chapter has the specifics of Karla's power as Taylor wakes up, the one after that has a big meeting between Taylor and the Jedi Council as to their judgement (had some fun with this one as I do with most Council scenes ) along with some important conversations between Taylor and some of her colleagues/friends.

The one after that has... some pretty BIG developments/foreshadowing all disguized as totally benign, boring friendly conversations :3

I'll happily catch you all in the next one
 
The dark side flowed and churned like a thick soup. It pooled in this place, sucked in by baleful ritual and desperate grasps for any scrap of power.
A bad place.
The fallen Jedi's profile was pale, gaunt. He looked like he hadn't eaten in days. His flesh was sallow and thin, his fingers long and gnarled, nails yellow and rotting.

He looked half a corpse himself.

Sidious had told her, when she asked why he was not worried about Jorus' growing power in the black arts of necromancy, that 'the fool will lose more than he gains'.
Yeah, arrogance personified.
"The One who burns and does not die."
Chosen One!
 
Plot twist: Anakin doesn't fall. He still burns and survives, but he does so fighting one of Darth Politico's lackeys.

Also it's not him who kills Palpatine, it's a furious Padmé (she burnin' with anger and a ton of frustration)

- Not only did you hurt the love of my life, but you burned off some bits that were VERY IMPORTANT TO ME!
 
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Unless he drops out of nowhere right onto Palpatine's head (in which case I want a gif of it please), Ash Beast is a much smaller threat when your setting is multi-planetary
 
Plot twist: Anakin doesn't fall. He still burns and survives, but he does so fighting one of Darth Politico's lackeys.

Also it's not him who kills Palpatine, it's a furious Padmé (she burnin' with anger and a ton of frustration)

- Not only did you hurt the love of my life, but you burned off some bits that were VERY IMPORTANT TO ME!

Yeah, alot of people tend to forget there are other people who might like certain.... parts be left functioning properly and might decide setting half the Galaxy on fire might be needed if they were rendered non-functional.
 
- Not only did you hurt the love of my life, but you burned off some bits that were VERY IMPORTANT TO ME!
Yeah, alot of people tend to forget there are other people who might like certain.... parts be left functioning properly and might decide setting half the Galaxy on fire might be needed if they were rendered non-functional.


Padmé: Normally I would be very calm and try to seek a non-violent solution, it just I AM ABSOLUTELY LIVID RIGHT NOW!
 
Chapter 100 New
Chapter 100:

Taylor:


I felt a groan claw its way out of my throat, my whole body feeling like I've been walloped by a giant Wookiee paw.

"Hmm, awake now are you?"

I opened my eyes, or at least forced the left one to pry itself apart, wincing at even the dim light filtering in through the curtains.

I felt something squirming against my chest, swiveling my eye downwards to see Angelica happily nuzzling me, its little squeaks and chirps almost saying 'good morning' as my little light side lightbulb emitted a soft warmth and feelings of happiness towards me.

I squeezed it tightly, turning my eyes away towards the voice.

"Master Yaddle?"

The kindly green Master smiled at me, floating over a pitcher and wooden cup until both fell into her hands, letting her pour a bit for me as she sent the cup over.

"I thought the Force was supposed to be used only when needed." I teased, smiling a bit to let it show on my face.

"Short, my arms are." She shot back with a smirk of her own.

"Fair…" I said, reaching forward to grasp at the offered cup so I could get a drink.

The wooden cup was smooth as glass. Wookiee woodworking was a marvel.

The water was room temperature at best, but in that moment it felt like the best damn drink I'd ever had.

My hands shook as I stretched out to give the cup back. Master Yaddle's arms were, as she said, too short, so she took it with the Force, floating it out of my grip.

"How long have I been asleep?"

"Hmm. In Coruscanti days, or Kashyyyk days?" She smiled cheekily

I let myself laugh a bit "Kashyyyk."

"Two."

So almost four in 'normal' time.

I fell back onto the pillow, my cheek almost enveloped by the overly plush thing. "And the Council's decisio-"

I stopped, my thought process feeling as though it crashed into a brick wall with the sudden memory that invaded my mind.

Starlight gathering beside her Padawan, invisible to everyone else.

"Compatible Datapoint Found. Destination?"

I shot up from the bed, Angelica giving a startled squeak. "Karl-"

A stick bonked me on the arm.

Yaddle shook her head. "Fine, your Padawan is. Recovering you still are."

I rubbed the spot on my arm. This had better not become a thing. She was not Yoda and I wasn't Vicky.

"I have to check on her!" I protested, only to have Yaddle poke me with her stick like… well… a disapproving grandmother.

"In a bed you've been for two days. Clean yourself you will, eat and bathe you will. Go out there looking as you do now and only distress them further you will."

I winced.

Shit. Did I look that bad?

Judging by the flat look in her eye, I did indeed look 'that bad'.

I sighed. "They're worried." I grumbled.

"A moment longer to care for yourself won't worry them any more." She admonished, thwacking her stick twice on the mattress. "Now. Up. Up."

She hopped off her seat, marching over to the side of the bed to, absurdly, help me to my feet.

I tried to stand, and was suddenly glad she was present as my legs felt like noodles, shaking like a newborn foal's. I leaned on the bed, Yaddle's Force power coiling around my waist like an arm to hold me up until I got feeling back in my limbs.

Together, we made our way to the bathroom.

I placed Angelica on the countertop.

The mirror was a bronze plate, shined and polished to a literal mirror sheen.

Even so, I could see that Yaddle was right.

I looked like hell.

I brushed my teeth first, washed my face second, then brushed my teeth again for good measure.

And stopped Angelica from eating the toothpaste.

Yaddle remained in the room, her back turned to me, the tendril of Force power still coiled around my middle just in case I fell as I undressed and stepped into the shower.

Once there, she allowed me my privacy by withdrawing her touch, but she was still waiting inside the room.

The water was cold. Wookiees always liked their showers cold. The hair made things hot enough for them.

But luckily, with a thought, I heated it up myself. The heat control that could light fires that would devour armies of droids now doubling as a flash boiler.

I closed my eyes and stepped under the flow, letting it wash over me, the warm water pouring through my hair and washing off the grime and sweat accumulated over several days bedridden.

Wookiee soaps were cream based things, almost like shampoo, held in wooden bowls resting on little corner shelves. Digging my fingers into it, I began to wash my hair, feeling like my own life was being breathed back into me with every pass of my fingers over my scalp.

But still, I had to ask.

"Why?"

"Why did you do it? Why did you want this?"


I knew the Administrator well enough to… understand. To know that she did things for a reason. Even if I didn't understand it or didn't agree with the decision, there WAS a logic to it. A through line.

Her mind brushed against my own and I cracked open the proverbial door a bit, just a bit, and she knew what I was asking.

"New datapoints found. Greater understanding."

Her 'words' gave me a headache, her presence still overwhelming. But a headache I could deal with.

"Why Karla?"

"Subject; Karla Important to Host. Symbiosis with subject beneficial to all"

"What do you-"

I felt a tap on my ankle, my eyes trailing down to see Master Yaddle's stick lightly smacking me in the leg.

I opened my mouth, ready to answer, when a drop of bright red fell down splashing onto the currents of water trickling down the drain.

I brought my hand up, wiping at my nose to see that, yes, I was bleeding.

Yaddle pulled her stick back, as I felt the Queen Administrator pull away.

I really had overtaxed myself, hadn't I?

I hadn't even had the chance to ask her what power she gave Karla.

I took a deep breath, letting it out in a huff, irritated. And I tried to let the feeling go as I finished my shower.

Spreading my senses, both insectile and Force, through the village, I soon had everyone around me tagged, knowing exactly where they were and what they were doing.

I peeked my head out around the curtain, and Master Yaddle floated a towel into my face.

"Thanks." I mumbled, taking the thing and beginning to dry myself

Yaddle began to walk outside, apparently now trusting that I had the strength to not fall over as she marched out to begin opening some curtains and windows, letting the sunlight in and the smell of sickness out.

Minutes later, with Angelica riding on my shoulder and nuzzling my cheek, we were finally stepping out of the hut and I had to admit, I felt like a human being again.

I was still hungry, but that was going to wait.

"Commander." Orwell nodded, standing up from a bench he'd been sitting on, and I had to wonder if my clones were taking watch in shifts just to keep an eye on me.

He didn't have his helmet on, so I could see his relieved smile clearly, even if I couldn't read it in the Force. "Glad to see you on your feet, ma'am." He said with a sharp salute.

"Glad to be on them." I answered back before turning. "Bring me up to speed on the others since I was out, I need to see Karla."

I began to walk, keeping my pace relatively slow for Master Yaddle's sake. The old woman didn't quite hobble like Yoda, but she still had some shorter than average legs.

"So you know already?" My demolition expert asked.

"That she has new powers, yes. Unless you mean something more specific." I answered quickly. "Has something happened?"

"No." Orwell answered, scratching at the back of his head. "Honestly, it looks like everyone's just been giving her space."

"Giving her space or avoiding her?" I asked pointedly, tossing Yaddle a look.

The old woman shook her head. "Wish to wait we did, the expert you are with the shards. Foolish it would be, to stumble into needless mistakes."

"That's… a good point." I conceded begrudgingly. No one on this planet besides me knew anything more than the bare bones minimum, if that, about shards or how powers might affect people.

Walking in blind might do more harm than good depending on what Administrator had given her.

"She's been acting normal enough." Orwell nodded. "Two of the others are with her most days. She stares at people for a lot longer now, though."

"Stares?" I asked. "Like, she's analyzing?"

The demolition expert nodded. "We haven't said anything. Didn't want to make her uncomfortable. Figured she was working through it."

I nodded, grateful. My squad really were the best a girl could ask for.

We walked through the Wookiee village, many of the large manbears seeing me and growling out happy greetings and well wishes, with a few of the older ones apparently taking their cues from Chewie and either patting me on the head or ruffling my hair.

I really had to get back at the giant throw rug for making this a thing.

But still, it didn't take us long to find them. I knew exactly where they were, after all.

Asimov was the first to spot me, Master Halis a second after.

"Commander!"

Pratchett rounded on us, and Karla and Ahsoka immediately after, their sparring match coming to an end.

I could feel her Force signature, still the same, still her, but… different. Like Vicky's. A cold undercurrent beneath the surface now.

I nodded towards Pratchett and Weber, offering a small, reassuring smile as I made my way closer to Karla.

My Padawan stared at me with wide, wide eyes. And I sensed the barest hint of… nervousness? Fear?

I tried not to let my hurt feelings show at that, hoping it was a misunderstanding of some kind.

"Karla?" I called, bending down slightly, hands on my knees, Angelica crawling to rest on my head. "What's wrong?"

I felt… the undercurrent. The power move. It's cold touch brushed against my mind and Karla winced, her nervousness returning tenfold.

And I understood, even without the Force.

She wasn't afraid of me.

She was afraid of using her power on me.

"It's ok." I opened the iron bars of my mind, reassuring her with feelings and actions in the Force.

She wouldn't hurt me.

Queen probably wouldn't, either.

And so, neither would this power.

The cold touch brushed across my innermost thoughts, and I saw Karla's eyes well up with tears, her lightsaber hilt slipping from her grasp before she took one step, then two, before she was sprinting across the wooden platform.

"Master!"

She screamed and before I knew it, I had an armful of bawling Twi'lek clinging to me. I felt her whole body shake as I held her close, rocking her in my arms as I ran my hand between the lekku atop her head.

"Shh. It's ok. It's ok."

I felt the cold power coil inwards, turning back in on her, touching her mind now, and Karla's emotions went… still. Unnaturally still. Unnaturally quickly as she sniffled, wiping at her eyes, recomposing herself in a way I'd never seen before.

I took a deep breath, leaning down to pick her up, pulling her close, grateful that the Force allowed me the extra superhuman strength to do this easily. She wasn't quite my little red firecracker from the creche, anymore.

She hugged my neck, burying her face in my shoulder and hair.

"Come on." I whispered, turning around and walking away. "Whatever it is, we can figure it out together. Ok?"

She nodded, little arms clutching tightly.

Komari:

Her eyes fluttered open as her body, her entire world, throbbed in pain and cold.

She was laying down on freezing metal. The ceiling above her was also metal

She could feel the throb of her blood in her ears coinciding with the beeping of a heart monitor, her breath fogging the mask in front of her mouth.

As awareness returned that heartbeat began to race.

An operating room?

Her fear spiked, the pounding of her heart punching the inside of her chest.

No. No no no! Not again!

She moved to stand, the beeping becoming a rapid screeching staccato in her ears, drilling her skull with noise as the straps on her wrist snapped taut, holding her down.

No no no no!

Panic, not blood, rushed through her veins.

She could hear things breaking and the metal walls groaning, panels trembling and shaking as nuts and bolts snapped and popped, but all of these things were distant, like she was stuck listening to it all with her head underwater as she pulled and thrashed.

Her heart was in her throat; she couldn't breathe, her blood drowning out the whole world!

She felt something, cold metal pressing down on her shoulders. A droid!.

She lashed out, the Force answering her call, and she heard a shout and a crash.

She thrashed and thrashed, pulling on the straps with all of her strength, feeling her chest and stomach burn, the wet stickiness of blood cloying her skin and pooling along her back and legs.

There was a flare, a sense of danger in the Force as she tilted her head, narrowly avoiding the red flare of a blaster bolt as it sizzled past her eyes.

"Don't shoot inside the ship!"

Komari's breathing thundered through her senses, her eyes trembling inside of their sockets, pupils the size of pinpricks, before she forced her head to turn, her head moving like it was on a ratchet hinge towards where the shot had come from.

It was a girl.

Young, with soft, honey colored hair, glaring at the Sith with all the hate she could muster.

But her hand… that blaster was steady, aimed straight at Komari's head.

She heard a sound, someone moving, breathing, getting air back into their lungs.

A man, a Mandalorian, stepped up beside the girl, shoving the gun downward before the T-shaped visor rounded on Komari, his body tight with tension.

"I'd rather no one blast holes in my ship while we're in fucking hyperspace. But make no mistake, Sith, you start shaking my ship apart again and I'll put one between your fucking eyes myself."

She settled going still as she tried to think, tried to feel. Herself, the Force, her injuries.

She almost immediately regretted the decision, the pain along her insides making itself known; the blood from reopened wounds oozing out, now pooling on the metal slab she was laying on.

Her thoughts flashed, returning immediately to… her.

She could see it again. That fist rushing straight towards her, impossible to dodge.

"How am I alive?" She croaked. Her voice was scratchy, her throat dry.

"Orders." The Mandalorian snarled. "Old man told me to get you out. I got you out."

He inched his way forward, one step, then two. "You busted my droid, so I'm gonna have to fix these wounds. Don't want you bleeding out before you can remember what in the Corellian Hells you did to actually hurt the flying bitch."

Komari's eyes widened, the flash of the image playing in her mind, feeling the phantom impact of her kick as it impacted. As flesh gave and Dallon was, for the briefest instant, hurt.

She'd… She'd hit her.

"Girl. Go and get some of the medical supplies so I can work." The man called.

The child still clutched at the gun in her grip, but Komari barely even saw her, barely even had eyes for her.

She just stared straight up.

All of this…

Years of effort. Of pain.

Training. Fighting. Growing in power, more than she'd have ever dreamed of. She'd clawed and pushed and tore her way this far, living through agonies and tortures and indignities beyond counting…

And all she had to show for it…

Was laying half dead on a slab… while Dallon walked away with a split lip.

The hate seethed within her. A twisted, corrupting, black poison coiling around her heart.

But it didn't give her power.

Komari felt her eyes sting. The pain radiating outwards from somewhere deep within her mangled spirit until a sob clawed its way out of her throat, her tears burning as they leaked out. Her hands rose to press the palms into her eyes, as if physically trying to push the liquid back into her flesh.

But they wouldn't stop.

The pain did not go away.

It just grew and grew until she could swear it would swallow the whole of her, even the wretched bomb laying somewhere in her chest, setting it off.

She hoped it did…

Because she had no other way of escaping this hell.



Taylor:

Emotion.

That was her power.

She could read emotions in others. Understand them.

And she could utterly control her emotions.

As a parahuman… it was nothing special. Lisa could likely replicate at least half of it on her own. Thinker three, or five, tops.

But as a Jedi… it was… good god, it was like she'd been handed an automatic grenade launcher or something. With a live grenade strapped to her chest.

I tried not to let my panic show, but felt the power brush up against my mind.

"You're worried about me."

I looked at her, my Padawan staring back up at me with a guilty expression.

We were sitting on a bench at the very outskirts of the Jedi Enclave grounds. There were eyes on us, of course, too many were far too curious and Jedi were a gossipy bunch of clucking hens no matter what temple you were in. But we had privacy by virtue of sheer distance.

I sighed, brushing my fingers through her scalp.

"I am." I admitted. No use hiding it. "You're… still a kid, Karla, and emotions are… complicated, even for adults. Sometimes people are upset but want to hide it. Sometimes they're happy but need to pretend and there can be…" I threw my hands up. "Any number of reasons. This is…" I sighed. "It's a huge burden that's now on your shoulders."

"And…" I hesitated, just a bit. "Controlling your own emotions, shutting out or turning on things like anger, sadness, happiness whenever you want… that can be dangerous too."

"Because of the dark side?"

"Because emotions are necessary!" I said, and I could taste the irony of someone like me saying that. "Having full control of them… It can really hurt you in ways I can't even foresee!"

Her mouth twisted, thinking. "W-well… I can at least turn it off and on."

I blinked. "Y-you can?"

She blinked, and squinted, her power once again brushing across my mind. "You're surprised… Was… is that not normal?"

I shook my head. I didn't know of any parahuman powers that just had… well… a fucking off switch. God knows I could have used one every now and again for a good night's sleep in the early days.

"No. But that's good… that's very good." I sighed. "Still, I can't imagine your power likes being shut off."

"No." She answered. "Mr. Care Bear doesn't like that."

I… cannot even begin to express what my face must've done in that moment.

"Mr. what now?"

Karla blinked. "Mr. Care Bear." She answered guilessly. Then she smiled. "Miss Vicky's bedtime stories, remember?" The girl said. "She told us that the Care Bears from your world helped people by making them feel good emotions! So, my power is like a Care Bear!"







How is this my life?

(X)(X)(X)

And so here, upon the hallowed ground of chapter 100; we now solemnly christen our latest character.

Mr. Care Bear!



[Happy Shard Noises]



(I would like to remind everyone that Karla is 10 years old. She is allowed to name her power Mr. Care Bear if she wants to!)

(I will also remind everyone that Her Master is the Mistress of Min-Max. If Anyone can brainstorm a way to jailbreak a "mediocre" thinker power, its her!)

Next chapter we'll be returning to Coruscant where everyone will finally see eachother again :D
 
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