Reading Time: 169 Minutes

Title: The Righteous One
Author: Keira Marcos
Fandom: Star Wars Jedi: Fallen Order, Star Wars
Genre: Romance, Science Fiction, Time Travel
Relationship(s): Cal Kestis/Merrin, Jaro Tapal/Eeth Koth, Anakin Skywalker/Padmé Amidala
Content Rating: R
Warnings: Slavery, Violence-Graphic, Violence-Against Children, Major Character Death, Suicide, Off-Screen Suicide
Author Note: BD-1 uses droidspeak, which is a language made of electronic sounds. His dialogue will thus be considered translated in the story and in italics. I have zero respect for canon. Star Wars canon is dark as fuck and contains slavery, murder, extreme acts of violence, torture, and injustice.
Word Count: 156,487
Summary: The loss of another friend was a blow too many for Cal Kestis. He could blame the Empire for the loss of Master Tapal. But he had no one to blame but himself for Bode Akuna, and the betrayal cut so deep it’s all he can think about. When given the chance to time travel, he agrees. Cal will take whatever time the Force will give him to save everyone from the Empire.

Jedi Master Jaro Tapal must deal with the consequences of his padawan’s choices in a future that no longer exists as he deals with a child who has memories of a wretched future full of grief, loss, and the consuming avarice of the Sith.
Artist: Westwind
Artist Appreciation: My sincere thanks to Westwind for their hard work on my story. The artwork really embodies themes and characters in the work in a breathtaking way.

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Chapter 13

Cal stilled the urge to chew his cuticle as he watched Merrin approach with Father Aaren. The Zabrak male seemed very familiar to him and felt safe, so he wasn’t worried about him. She’d changed out of the silly dress and was wearing black pants, much like his own, boots, and a white shirt that seemed to be wrapped around her and tied. The material wrapped around her arms all the way to the wrists, and her hair was pinned up on top of her head.

She offered him her hand as soon as she could, so he took it.

“It’s okay,” Cal said.

“I’ve never been on a spaceship,” Merrin blurted out. “Not even in my dreams, which is strange since most of my dreams seem to take place on other worlds. But I also know this ship—it’s very strange, Cal.”

“I get it,” Cal said. “Come on, there’s someone on board for you to meet.” He pulled her gently up the entry ramp. “This is the Stinger Mantis and is a S-161 Stinger XL luxury yacht. It’s made by Latero Spaceworks. They focus on luxury and family-oriented craft. But the Mantis has been upgraded since it left the factory with a faster hyperspace engine and weapons.”

“Oh, look at you,” Greez said cheerfully as he entered the lounge area. “How’s my favorite witch?”

Merrin released Cal’s hand and went right into Greez’s arms, which he held out for a hug. She didn’t have to bend over at all. “Greez! You’re okay!”

Cal watched as Greez patted her gently with all four hands.

“Well, why wouldn’t I be?” Greez questioned. “I’ve got my family back.” He held out her arms and looked her over. “You’re a tiny thing! We need to put a whole suit of armor on you.”

Merrin laughed, and green ichor flowed around her. “I can take care of myself.” She swung his arms a little. “Greezy peasy.”

Greez laughed and hugged her again. “Well, come up front. I heard you talking about not being on a spaceship before. You can have Cal’s seat.”

Cal watched them go and turned to find Senator Amidala frowning as she watched as well. “Some information is dangerous to have.”

She focused on him. “Yes, I know. But, also, it is dangerous at times to be uninformed. I don’t know where I stand on this issue. It’s deeply concerning for several reasons. I’m obligated to report the Senate and the Chancellor situations that concern the safety of the Republic. I understand, of course, that the Jedi Order does have the right to keep secrets. Yet, Chancellor Palpatine was murdered in front of the Jedi Council by one of your own.”

“Master Koth was disturbed that day,” Cal said quietly, aware that everyone but Greez and Merrin were listening. He hadn’t had to think on the deception long to realize that protecting Eeth Koth’s sacrifice was ultimately the most just thing he could do for the galaxy and the Jedi Order. “In retrospect, the Force was pushing me to notice that something was wrong in the room, but I’m not particularly good at figuring out what she wants in the moment. I need time to think and assess. But I’m certainly working on it.

“What I can tell you is that the Force was…relieved by the death of Sheev Palpatine and considered that moment a shatterpoint of sorts. That could also explain why neither Master Windu nor Master Yoda saw it coming. They were focused on the shatterpoint itself and saw no reason to fear anyone in that room.”

“Why?” General Skywalker asked. “Why is the Force relieved by his death? He served the Republic for decades and was a good man.”

“Sometimes actions have unintended consequences,” Cal said thoughtfully. “I can’t say what he would’ve done or said for certain. But my dreams changed after he died. I felt safer, even though Chancellor Palpatine didn’t threaten me in any way when we met. Perhaps there is no explanation. But, maybe he would’ve made a decision that could’ve had catastrophic consequences.” Cal bit down on his bottom lip. “I stopped dreaming about the funeral after he died.”

“Whose funeral?” Senator Amidala questioned.

Cal took a deep breath. “Yours.” He focused on her. “I had the dream twice. Master Tapal and I attended your funeral, Senator Amidala, along with the Jedi High Council. You were the age you are now, but I don’t know how you died in the dream. But I’ve not had that dream since Chancellor Palpatine was killed. I didn’t even know who you were until after he died because while I’ve listened to Senate hearings—I’d never watched them on HoloTV. I didn’t see your face until after Chancellor Organa was elected.”

“Is that dream faded?” General Skywalker questioned hoarsely.

“Yes, very much so, or I would’ve told her already,” Cal said simply. “Many horrible things I dreamt of are like faded holostills in my memory, and they have been since Chancellor Palpatine was killed. I can’t say what it all fully means. It could all boil down to a single situation that Bail Organa will handle differently. Sometimes, the smallest moments in history have shaped the entire galaxy.”

“You know what, kid,” General Skywalker started, “Chosen One to Righteous One—I used to think I had it rough until I met you.”

“There are benefits for both of us in our circumstances,” Cal said with a grin, even as Merrin called out for him. He trotted off while Senator Amidala and General Skywalker laughed.

His master followed him. “Well done.” He patted Cal’s shoulder as Merrin scooted over in the chair to make room for him.

Cal huffed a little when he realized they’d both fit in the chair. He climbed up with her to sit, and BD-1 left his shoulder in favor of perching on the top of the flight deck. He shifted his lightsaber on his belt when he realized it was pressing against her, and Merrin just smiled as she took his hand.

“Cere! Did you see how cute these two are? They fit in the co-pilot chair at the same time,” Greez said as Cere sat down in the communications station.

“We should enjoy this tiny stage of theirs as much as possible because children grow up fast,” Master Tapal said and slid into the observation seat behind Greez.

It wasn’t a super tight fit, but it wasn’t great either. Cal wondered what they could do to open the cockpit up a little bit more. His master was tall but not overly bulky, so it was more about leg and headroom than anything else.

“What are you thinking about, Padawan?” Master Tapal questioned.

“I was just wondering if you’d fit in the pilot seat,” Cal said in amusement.

“Yes, he could,” Greez said. “There’s lots of leg room and the chair will shift to accommodate for his height. I knew your master was a Lasat male, so I made sure it was assessed for that. I also replaced both seats in deference to his size, just in case.” He patted the pilot’s chair. “Not that I mind this big, comfy seat. The people doing my upgrade asked me if I had aspirations toward gaining a crown.”

Cal laughed. “It does look quite stately.” He focused on Merrin then and found her chewing gently on her bottom lip as the ship lifted off. “It’s safe.”

She nodded. “Do I seem primitive to you?”

“No, of course not,” Cal said. “Why?”

“Kagan tried to give me a lecture about how I should act on the ship and told me that everyone would assume that I was basically a primitive savage because we live so simply on Dathomir. I don’t know why she told me that.”

“Perhaps, in her own way, she was preparing you for how some might perceive you, so you’d be prepared for it,” Cal said. “So, you wouldn’t get your feelings hurt.”

“If it’d come from Father Aaren or Elif, I would believe that,” Merrin said pensively as they broke the atmosphere. Her breath caught as space filled all the windows around them. “It’s beautiful.”

“It can be,” Cal said. “But dangerous, too.”

“Most beautiful things are,” Master Tapal said dryly, and Greez laughed.

“Kagan isn’t kind to you?” Cal prodded.

“She is callous,” Merrin said. “And unconcerned about my feelings. I know exactly where I stand with her as a result. She resented my mother greatly, for many reasons, and resents me as well. All of her children are male.”

“And that matters amongst the Nightsisters,” Cal surmised.

“It certainly did in the past, and it will take several generations for the stigma to fade,” Merrin said. “I was touted amongst the clans as a beautiful and powerful baby. My mother was quite…a braggart about me. It was generally acknowledged that my mother had birthed a future Great Mother. I was celebrated.”

“Then why were you left to be raised in the communal crèche after her death. Shouldn’t they have basically fought over your adoption?” Cal asked in confusion.

“Mother Talzin refused to allow anyone to adopt me, and no one cared enough to fight her on it,” Merrin said. “After her death, several offered me places in their homes, but I can’t trust any of those offers, Cal.”

“No, of course not,” Cal said. “Master Junda will be a good guardian to you. She’s a powerful Force user and will be able to hold her own with any of Nightsisters. I met her current padawan when I was on Coruscant—Trilla is very talented and well-educated.”

The Albedo Brave came into view, and Merrin’s breath hitched at the sight. Cal squeezed her hand gently, and she offered him a quick smile.

“The Albedo Brave is a Venator-class star destroyer. It’s considered a capital ship—due to its size and the fact that it houses an entire battalion of troopers. It’s currently configured to host 700, but some consider that to be quite luxurious since this ship was designed to transport upwards of 7,000. Our barracks are big, well appointed, and we have recreational areas that many ships do not.”

“Why?” Merrin questioned.

“Because all of the Venator-class star destroyers have long-term assignments,” Cal said. “We can spend upwards of two years on a mission without a resupply as long as we can get fuel. We had to sacrifice crew space for storage—food, weapons, and various other supplies for two years which requires a lot of room.

“General Tapal’s assignment on the Albedo Brave is a special circumstance since normally he’d be in charge of a regiment which would be four battalions strong. But each Venator class has a similar arrangement—with a single battalion, a Jedi General, and their padawan. We’re given special assignments.”

“Like Dathomir.”

“Yes,” Cal said. “Like Dathomir. The 13^th Battalion is also called the Iron Battalion because of our war record.”

“You serve in the military actively, then,” Merrin said with a frown. “Officially?”

“Yes, my rank is Jedi Commander,” Cal said and shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. “It’s fine.”

“I’ve been led to believe that there is nothing fine about a child soldier,” Merrin said and frowned.

“I’m a padawan,” Cal said simply. “And we’re all equal within the Jedi Order; age is irrelevant. I began training for this at the age of five.”

“I was being taught to swim and fish at the age of five,” Merrin said. “And sewing.”

“I was taught to sew and mend my clothes in the crèche,” Cal said. “We learned how to treat wounds as well with and without bacta. The Jedi Academy focused on academic skills. Now, Master Tapal will teach me everything else I need to know about being a Jedi.”

“What about the other stuff?” Merrin questioned.

“I’ll teach him to gamble,” Greez said.

“No, you won’t,” Master Tapal retorted, and Greez laughed.

“What other stuff?” Cal asked curiously.

“I don’t know—adult stuff,” Merrin shrugged.

“Master Tapal won’t let me loose on the galaxy without knowing how to do adult stuff,” Cal said confidently.

They docked, and Merrin stayed still, so Cal left the co-pilot’s seat and gently urged her to come with him by tugging on her hand. Her fingers were ice cold.

“Hey, Spacewitch.”

Merrin laughed a little and took a deep breath even as tears welled in her eyes. “It’s a little overwhelming. Sorry.” She rubbed her eyes with the back of her free hand.

“Cal.”

He moved at the sound of his name and allowed Cere to settle on one knee in front of Merrin. Cal released her hand reluctantly and was gratified that she reached out for him briefly before focusing on Cere.

Cere took both of Merrin’s hands. “The galaxy is big. It’s dangerous but also exciting. There are worlds where the gravity is so heavy you won’t be able to walk without assistance and others where you’d be able to fly. Some worlds are shrouded in ice, while others burn like stars. I cannot promise you that it is safe to leave Dathomir. Just like I cannot promise you it is safe to stay on Dathomir. Your visions and dreams have already told you the dangers that could befall your world. You see your duty to your people spread out in front of you, and the consequences if you fail are horrific.”

Merrin nodded, and tears slipped down her cheeks. “They’ll all die. But I wasn’t trained for any of this. I don’t understand how…to be what they need when all I have is magickal power. The politics of the situation are far beyond my scope, and I know it. I try to be confident in front of them, but I’m so scared, Cere. I’m afraid I’ll fail them, and my world will be that graveyard that Cal and I dream about.” She closed her eyes. “Except we don’t really bury our dead, you know.”

“What do you mean?” Cere questioned.

“In my dream, after the droids came, and I was left alone. I spent days using the magick of Dathomir to create funeral shrouds for my dead mothers and sisters. The shrouds hung from trees like cocoons when I was finished with the Nightsisters. It takes a hundred years for the shroud to break down the body and return the ichor to the fabric of Dathomir. In my dream, I went to each clan and performed the rites, creating one shroud after another until I was numb from grief. I saved the Nightbrothers for last, and there, I found less than a hundred survivors of the attack. They’d gathered all of the bodies, but they didn’t have the magickal power to encase them, so I began the rites again.”

“What happened after that?”

“The Nightbrothers took care of me,” Merrin said. “Followed me—revered me as the last of my kind. I was taught to fight and hunt so that I could survive. But they set me so far above them that I was like an idol. It was a very lonely life. The years blended together then one day, Cal came.

“He was looking for something and the Nightbrothers had been influenced by an outsider. They were barely under my control at that point and on the cusp of being feral. I was, too, but Cal brought me back to myself in a way. He made me see that I could have something beyond Dathomir. I thought I’d die on Dathomir—alone and filled with nothing but grief.”

“It must have been a very difficult dream,” Cere said. “Did you wake up sad?”

“I woke up hopeful,” Merrin said and smiled. “It’s just hard to remember all of that and keep the hope, too. Especially when I know that Dooku is just waiting for an opportunity to destroy my world. He’s so greedy and selfish, Cere.”

“That’s the root of the dark side,” Cal said. “They covet more than they have—power, influence, wealth—and they allow that greed to corrupt them. It gives the dark side of the Force room to grow and flourish inside of them in a very negative way.”

“Isn’t it all negative?” Merrin questioned.

“You tell me,” Cal said as Cere released her. He took the hand she offered and pulled her through the ship, past the holotable, and toward the exit. “Didn’t you grow up with dark Force users? Does Kagan run around torturing and murdering people to get her way?”

Merrin laughed. “No, she plots, gossips, and occasionally fights other Nightsisters over breeding opportunities.”

Cal stopped and turned to stare at her. “What? They fight over what?”

Merrin raised an eyebrow. “When the Nightbrothers were…in service to the Nightsisters, the strongest and most talented of them were often highly coveted. If one Nightsister desired a male’s singular and individual services for breeding, then she would have to fight for her right to keep him at her side through her breeding cycle.”

“Talented?” Cal repeated and looked toward his master for assistance. “What does that mean?”

“That’s…adult stuff,” Master Tapal said firmly and sent Master Kenobi a hard look when he laughed. “I’ll speak with you later on the subject, in private.”

“Of course,” Cal said and sent Merrin a look when she grinned. “They’re not still doing that, right? Fighting over the Nightbrothers?”

“Only if we’re lucky,” Aaren said, and all of the adults laughed.

“Padawan, perhaps you can give the Luminary a tour of the ship and stop worrying about the Nightbrothers’ former rather decadent servitude,” Master Tapal said dryly.

Cal huffed. “Yeah, okay.”

An hour later, he finally got to the bridge and his own workstation. Merrin wasn’t afraid to ask questions, and she’d had tons regarding the spacefighters and weapons on the ship. Plus, she’d kept touching things, and Cal found it difficult to deny her anything. The troopers had appeared equally flummoxed by the situation, so they’d just gone behind her and corrected anything she’d tinkered with as they’d moved through the ship. He’d made the executive decision that she wasn’t getting near a weapon’s console.

“This is the command holotable. Master Tapal and I work here during our shift. I can control the flight bridge with it if necessary or take over flight operations if that bridge is destroyed during combat,” Cal explained. “The two lower bays contain officers and troopers assigned to various bridge tasks from navigation and flight to combat engineering.”

Commander Meza approached them, so he turned as the man came to stand near the front of the holotable. He wasn’t wearing a helmet. In fact, none of the troopers on the bridge were and the rack near the back of the left bay was full of stored helmets for ease of access.

“Marshall Commander Meza, this is the Luminary of Dathomir,” Cal said. “She’s our guest for the next few hours.”

Jon Meza offered her a smile. “I’m pleased to meet you, Luminary. Have you enjoyed your tour of the Albedo Brave?”

“Yes, thank you, Marshall Commander,” Merrin said and peeked down into the bay. “I’m sorry about touching that button down in engineering and making the alarm sound.”

She’d actually taken the deflector shields offline, but Cal hadn’t wanted to upset her with that knowledge, so he just inclined his head toward Meza, and the older man nodded.

“It’s fine,” Meza said. “No harm done. It’s good to make the troopers work a little bit now and again.”

“How many troopers are on board this ship?” Merrin questioned.

“As of an hour ago, 576,” Meza said. “We had a squad return to the ship after a mission in a different sector.”

Merrin nodded. “If Dathomir becomes part of the Republic then I’ll get to offer 1,000 clones citizenship of my world. Despite how it looks from space, Dathomir is a beautiful world, blessed as a Force vergence, and is rich with natural resources. Plus, my population is seventy-two percent female.” She smiled winningly as every single clone trooper on the bridge turned to look at her. “I’m hoping that I’ll be able to offer you and the clones serving on this ship a place on my world specifically since you’re standing in our defense during this process. But only if you want it, of course. No pressure.”

Sure, Cal thought, offer them a world full of magick, beautiful jungles, and women.

Jon smiled. “I’m honored, and I accept your offer, provided the Republic agrees to Dathomir’s application.”

“Great,” Merrin said with a smile and focused on Ahsoka Tano.

Ahsoka left her station and trotted up the short set of stairs and Commander Meza turned his attention back to his duty and held out both hands in greeting. “I’m Ahsoka Tano, Jedi Padawan. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Luminary.”

Merrin released Cal’s hand in favor of taking Ahsoka’s. “Call me Merrin, please. You’re a Togruta. I’ve never met one before, but I’ve seen holostills. You’re very pretty.”

Ahsoka blushed. “So are you. I’ve met female Zabraks before, but never one so young. I’d heard that Zabraks don’t allow their female children to travel off their homeworlds if they have a single choice in the matter.”

“No, our females are especially prized and often quite powerful in a variety of ways that make them vulnerable as children,” Father Aaren said from behind them.

The Zabrak male had followed them the whole tour but hadn’t said a word, not even when Merrin had taken the deflector shields offline. He’d appeared quite amused by Cal’s attempts at keeping her curiosity under control.

“I’ll be traveling to Coruscant,” Merrin said. “Are you stationed on this ship?”

“Oh, no, I’m just here because my master is Senator Amidala’s security escort,” Ahsoka said. “And I go where he goes.” She paused and grinned. “And most often, he goes where she goes.”

“This is Father Aaren, Ahsoka. He’s a member of my advisory council and is acting as my security,” Merrin explained.

Ahsoka offered Aaren a bright smile and a small bow. “Father Aaren, I’m pleased to meet you. You are rich with the Force.”

“I’m honored by with the use of the Force,” Aaren said. “And practice only in the light if you are concerned.”

“My master would’ve warned me if I had to be concerned about you,” Ahsoka said confidently as she returned her attention to Merrin. “Did you enjoy your tour?”

“The ship is very interesting and big,” Merrin said. “We don’t have technology like this on Dathomir.”

“We have retreats on various worlds that are devoid of technology,” Ahsoka said. “So, we can train and meditate without the distraction that technology often provides. In the crèche and in the Jedi Academy, we weren’t exposed to much tech at all despite being on Coruscant, which is an ecumenopolis.”

“What’s an ecumenopolis?” Merrin questioned, her gaze settling on Cal.

“It’s a world-city,” Cal explained. “Coruscant is both a planet and a single city at the same time. There aren’t many in the galaxy, as they are expensive to build and maintain. Plus, they have to have all of their resources, including food, imported. Hosnian Prime and Denon are world-cities in the Core. There are a few in the Deep Core and in the Outer Rim Territories, but I’ve never visited any of them.”

“I’ve been to Hosnian Prime,” Ahsoka said. “It wasn’t all that different from Coruscant to me. I much prefer natural worlds where I can climb real trees.”

“I have real trees,” Merrin said. “I’m beginning to wonder if they’re more valuable than gold. You can come down and climb the tree in my garden if you want.”

Ahsoka grinned. “I’ll ask Master Skywalker.”

* * * *

Jaro would’ve put any other male on the floor unconscious for taking such liberties, but he’d rarely been able to deny Eeth Koth a damn thing. Not even his arm. Since he was on the taller side for his species, Eeth was just short of seven feet tall, and it wasn’t awkward at all to hug the Zabrak back.

“It’s weird to get a hug from you and not get poked by a horn,” Jaro said wryly, and his lover laughed as they separated.

“It was so odd looking in the mirror after I woke up from that surgery. Mace assured me I’m still very attractive for my species.”

“You are,” Jaro said. “Calling you Aaren will be an adjustment, but I’m glad to make it. I’m also relieved to know that you’re here and that you’ve managed to get yourself into a position to protect the Luminary.”

“Finding out about her after I got here was startling,” Aaren said. “I realized she was having dreams like your Cal, and the rapid changes she caused within the clans on Dathomir speak of a deeper wisdom and knowledge than she’s allowed herself to reveal. She is a very special child, Jaro, much like your own padawan.”

He nodded. “Are both of your parents Zabrak?”

Aaren laughed. “No, my father was Abednedo and my mother’s third mate of choice throughout her lifetime. I was the last child she had and the only one with the Force. Why do you ask?”

“You’re the tallest Zabrak I’ve ever met, and I’ve wondered if that should be a concern regarding your new identity.”

“Ah, well, no. Many of the Nightbrothers Zabraks are as tall as me or taller. Even some of the females are over six feet on Dathomir. The Luminary is going to be rather petite for her species. I did verify that both of her parents were Zabrak, out of curiosity. Her grasp and use of the Force is stunning.”

“How are your retirement plans going?” Jaro asked in amusement.

“Oh, well, I recently had an opportunity presented to create a child and I accepted. We’ve agreed that if the child is male, I will raise him after he’s weaned, and if it is female, I will be allowed very liberal visitation. She has no desire to create a family unit with me, however, and I respect that. The traditions on Dathomir don’t encourage that kind of living circumstance.”

“Why did you do it?” Jaro questioned quietly, and Aaren turned to face him.

Aaren sighed. “Does it matter at this point, Jaro?”

“You took the blame for my crime, and your life was destroyed as you know it,” Jaro said. “Yes, it matters. Had anyone else on the Council suggested they take my place, I would’ve seen it as a political move. But not you and you’re nowhere near retirement age for the love of the Force.”

“Do you remember when we were padawans?” Eeth questioned. “Those last few months before we were knighted?”

Jaro was gratified that he was too old to blush. “I’d rather not meet anyone who could forget their first lover.”

“I asked you to run away with me—leave the Order rather than be knighted.”

Jaro took a deep breath. “Your whole pitch about living a life as pirates in the Outer Rim was very tempting. There were times in the past when I even regretted saying no. I did…I do love you, and I always have, but I put duty first. I was gratified that I could.”

Aaren nodded. “Then how can you ask me why? You’re the truest Jedi I’ve ever known, Jaro, and if one of us had to leave the Jedi Order in that moment, then it had to be me. Moreover, you only did what the rest of us wanted to do. You can’t think he was going to leave that room alive. Especially not after he revealed to have information about Cal Kestis. I don’t know how the goals for the Council have shifted since my departure, but don’t trust them blindly with your boy.”

“If I can’t trust them with Cal, can I trust them with anything?” Jaro demanded.

“They are focused entirely on protecting the Order as a whole, and many of them see Cal as a tool. They’d regret whatever happened to him as a result, but they’d still do it. Just like they gladly thought they were using Anakin Skywalker to ensure a better future for the Order with the Republic and Palpatine.”

“How did you allow that?” Jaro demanded. “You let them use the Chosen One!”

“I was overruled,” Aaren snapped. “And so was Mace Windu. We’re the only ones that ever argued with Yoda until Obi-Wan joined the Council, and that was pure damned nepotism.” He walked away and paced the length of the common area of Jaro’s quarters in a rare showing of fury. “Obi-Wan Kenobi is a good Jedi and a better man than the one who trained him, that’s for certain. He deserved better than he got on that front.”

“Mace has tucked Qui-Gon’s wounded bird under his wing.”

“Don’t you mean into his bed?” Aaren retorted, and Jaro laughed. “If only Yoda had the first clue. He’d have us all live like those freakish monks whose main goal is to put their own brains in jars.”

Jaro made a face. “It’s very unfortunate but true. Though I think some of those monks have a better time than the average Jedi does.” He held out a hand, and his lover took it. “Do you regret it?”

“No.” Aaren moved close then and pressed his mouth against Jaro’s briefly. “I don’t regret that either.”

Jaro took a deep breath.

“Relax, my love,” Aaren murmured. “I’ve never asked you for more than you can give, and I never will. I understand your duty in this moment and in the next.”

Jaro cupped Aaren’s head, fingers tangling in black hair as he pulled him close. “Then please take what I do have to give.”

“With pleasure,” Aaren said, shuddered against him as their mouths met again.

* * * *

Merrin was clearly a little put out with him, and Cal had no idea what he’d done. She’d dismissed Father Aaren and told the man to go find something to do on the ship that had nothing to do with her. For his part, Father Aaren had just exchanged a pointed look with Master Junda then left them to go have a conversation with Master Tapal.

Master Junda had taken them to the training arena for lack of anything else to do and they’d done some puzzles with Ahsoka before she’d been retrieved by Master Skywalker for her own private lessons. Now, Merrin was clearly irritated, and he’d been left to assume that he was the reason.

“Did you want to meditate?” Cal questioned.

Merrin scrunched up her nose at him and crossed her arms. “Do you meditate with Ahsoka?”

“No,” Cal denied and huffed a little when Merrin made a face at him and stalked off across the room. He followed her. “I only met her a few days ago and we’ve had maybe three whole conversations since. Why?”

Merrin sat down on the meditation mat and glared at him until he joined her. “She’s very pretty.”

“She’s a padawan,” Cal said.

“So are you.”

“Yes, but….” Cal frowned. “She’s an officer in the Grand Army of the Republic, and personal fraternization between officers is actually illegal. Even if I were old enough for that kind of thing, and I not, I wouldn’t risk getting court-martialed. Nor would she risk charges herself since she’s legally an adult at seventeen and I’m thirteen.

“The age of consent within the Jedi Order is seventeen for Humans and Togrutas, but it varies with other species. It would be highly inappropriate and immoral for her to pursue me at my age. She strikes me as a very good person who’d never take advantage of anyone, much less a child. Finally, Master Tapal would probably die of shame and if he didn’t, it would totally ruin his retirement plans. I doubt he’d ever get any mating opportunities after that.”

“I didn’t realize her age.” Merrin’s lips twitched. “Should he wish it, Master Tapal would have no problems fathering a child on Dathomir. Many were very impressed by him.”

Cal huffed. “You’d better not let them even think about putting Master Tapal in a harem.” He frowned when she laughed. “I’m serious, Merrin.”

“So was I,” she said and leaned back on her hands. “I have no idea how to meditate. I probably shouldn’t try without instruction, considering my visionary abilities.”

“I’m sorry that you’ve been burdened with such a talent,” Cal said. “The dreams are bad enough. I don’t think I could handle visions as well.”

“I don’t mind the dreams,” Merrin said. “Especially the ones I share with you.” She pressed her lips together briefly. “I apologize for my behavior. I’m in the first stage of maturation, and the females of my species can get very territorial where it concerns….” She exhaled slowly. “Males.”

“Males,” Cal repeated and made a face. “How?”

“I think you should ask Master Tapal,” Merrin said primly. “Just don’t hold her hand anymore.”

“I didn’t…I just helped her when she almost fell off the tower,” Cal said.

Merrin huffed. “Cal, are you being obtuse on purpose?”

“No….” Cal blew air out between his lips. “I didn’t really hold her hand for long—just until she was on her feet.”

“Is it not intimate to you because of your Force gifts?” Merrin questioned hotly.

“Oh,” Cal said and exhaled slowly. “I mean, there’s context involved, I suppose. It wasn’t an offer of personal contact in that circumstance, and she certainly didn’t see it as one. She has very good mental discipline as well, so it isn’t like she shared anything of herself with me during that contact. My psychometry only works on inanimate objects, so I didn’t gain any thoughts or impressions of her either.”

Merrin frowned.

“And it’s entirely different with you—the Force moves between us when we touch. I’ve never experienced anything like that with anyone else, not even Master Tapal,” Cal explained. “It feels extraordinary to hold your hand, Merrin.”

Her cheeks flushed. “Yes, I feel the same. I don’t mean to be this way. I just feel like…you belong to me.”

“That’s because I do,” Cal said simply, and her eyes widened in shock. “I promised there’d never be anyone else but you. Don’t you remember?”

Tears welled in her eyes. “I didn’t know if you remembered your promise.”

“I remember saying it, but the circumstances are hazy,” Cal said. “Do you remember what you said in return?”

Merrin glanced across the large room where Master Junda sat, meditating, and took a deep breath. “May our love and our bond be eternal.”

“The energy that moves between us is that bond,” Cal said. “Force sensitives can forge bonds with one another. I have one with Master Tapal. It’s a very common thing that happens between a Jedi Master and their padawan. It won’t intrude on our bond, though, so don’t worry about it.”

“The Force tells me that Master Tapal is to be trusted with everything,” Merrin said. “I’m glad he’s alive, Cal. I dreamt of his murder and your crash landing on Bracca. It was a horrible dream, and I had no way of knowing if it was going to happen or if it had already happened. It was the second dream I had.”

“It was my first,” Cal said. “My dreams of Dathomir came later.” He offered her his hand, and she took it immediately. “We can’t be together as we promised each other at this very moment for many reasons. No matter how much we wish differently, circumstances and politics are going to separate us in the short term. My duty to the Republic and the Jedi Order must come first for now. It’s how I will help protect Dathomir from those who would destroy it one way or another. It’s how I will protect you. But I will always come back to you, Merrin. I keep my promises.”

“I can’t officially claim a mate until I’m at least eighteen, at any rate,” Merrin said and quirked an eyebrow at him when he blushed. “Don’t worry. I won’t acquire a harem when you aren’t looking.”

Cal frowned. “I’m not above tossing people in the lake, either.”

Her laughter was a relief.

Chapter 14

Cal accepted the tea that Greez poured for him and watched Merrin do the same. They were tucked on the sofa of the Mantis with Masters Junda and Cordova sitting nearby. Merrin had spent some time with Master Cordova talking about the construction of her weapon and how she could manifest solid objects out of ichor. Her use of the Force was so different from theirs that it was going to be an immense source of fascination for Jedi scholars.

“We time traveled,” Merrin blurted out, and Cal nodded.

Master Cordova looked shocked.

“I don’t think that I did,” Master Cordova said. “I’ve had a single dream about Cal, and it was quite real to me. It was so real that I woke up thinking that Jaro Tapal was dead and that I had dreamt of an event as it was happening. We were hoping that the two of you would not remember that part for years to come. The burden is immense.”

“You were already dead when it happened,” Cal said. “Cere spoke to us through the Force, but she was dead as well. We can’t let anyone ever know the full extent of what happened.” He focused on Cere. “No one can know that Merrin compelled the Force to allow us to time travel in a ritual. There’s no telling what people would do to her. What they would try to make her do.”

“We agree,” Greez said quickly. “We should never, ever discuss this unless we can be sure our conversation will be private. I made sure that the Mantis is our safe space. I have dampening shields to prevent monitoring and I put a personality program in the ship’s computer. Her name is Sally. Her primary function is to protect us and our secrets.”

“You were always opposed to that,” Cere said.

“Yes, well, I need to make sure this ship will keep us safe in all ways,” Greez said and took a deep breath. “I got everything I could and even considered getting a different ship entirely. But I realized I needed to use a ship you’d all recognize if I had to evacuate you.” He focused on Master Cordova. “I’ll make sure you have my code as well in case you need it.”

“Thank you very much, Greez,” Master Cordova said gently. “I’m honored to be included.” He focused on Cal and Merrin. “Whatever shall we do with the two of you?”

Cal shrugged. “I don’t remember a lot of stuff. I just know…terrible things that we’ve been able to prevent so far. I see threats coming, and I’ve tried to warn everyone that I can regarding those threats. Dooku is a serious problem, and so is that awful creature General Grievous, who is currently leading the Confederacy’s droid army.”

“The droid army is also a problem,” Merrin said.

“The droid army can be…highjacked,” Cal said and glanced toward BD-1, who was seated on the table in front of them. “Right, BD?”

“Bad droids become good droids with just a few lines of code,” BD-1 said, and Master Cordova laughed. “Special mission. Tell Jedi Council to do it.”

“Sure,” Cal said. “I’ll just boss around the whole Jedi High Council, BD.” Merrin laughed. “They’ll be fine with that.”

“Well, a dream or two can be passed along about how to neutralize the droid army,” Cere said wryly, and Cal sighed.

“I’ll think of something, or maybe the Force can give me a hand.” He flicked a hand around, and they all laughed. “She certainly feels free to push us all around.”

“I guess that’s fair since she did something amazing for us,” Greez said and smiled. “I’m so happy to see you all like this.”

“Captain Dritus.”

Cal stilled and looked around at the unfamiliar voice.

“Hey, Sally,” Greez said cheerfully. “Problem?”

“No, sir, but General Tapal is approaching the ship with Father Aaren. We are currently in a security lockdown, which I assume he’d find alarming.”

“Disengage privacy protocol and open the door for them,” Greez ordered. “And thank you for the head’s up.”

“Of course, Captain Dritus.”

Cal took a deep breath and stood. He tugged Merrin up with him. “Let’s go have a talk in private since he’s certainly here to send you back down to Dathomir.”

“Okay,” Merrin agreed.

Her fingers clenched gently against his as they walked through the ship to the very back, where there was a mechanic’s workbench. He stilled the urge to touch the tools. They all looked very familiar, and he felt an ownership over them that didn’t seem quite right. It did remind him that he needed to stop by the ship stores and get some things.

“We need Padmé Amidala to put the fate of Force-sensitives first in her thoughts going forward,” Merrin murmured. “We need a genuine and powerful ally to be our voice in the Galactic Senate. I feel like it’s the difference between our survival and utter destruction.”

“I agree, but I don’t know how to ensure it,” Cal admitted. “So, I’m going to need the Force to give me a clue on this.” She laughed a little as he pulled her closer. He let his forehead rest against hers. “I need you to make me a promise.”

“Okay.”

“Promise me that you’ll survive.”

“Cal.” She took a deep, unsteady breath. “That’s really unreasonable.”

“I know,” he murmured. “Just promise me that you’ll do everything you can to survive. Even if it means touching magicks on Dathomir that you currently intend to avoid.”

“Will you do the same?” Merrin questioned. “Even if it includes acts that many would consider to be dark?”

“Yes,” Cal said simply. “And for the record, I fully intend to Force-choke the hell out of anyone who comes at me. There won’t be another Bode Akuna in our life. I won’t allow it. Betrayal will be met with extreme prejudice. It’s what will keep us both safe.”

“Agreed.” She took a deep breath and nodded. Then turned and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “Since I don’t want to cry, you should leave the ship now, and Greez will take me back down with Father Aaren.”

“Okay,” Cal said with a nod. “Stay safe, Spacewitch.”

“You, too, Jedi.”

* * * *

The ship’s stores were run by a trooper who acted as both a requisition officer and the quartermaster. And the quartermaster of the ship was really the glue that held them together and Cal respected the amount of work involved in such a position. He’d never want it.

BD-1 dropped down off his body and darted across the room to rummage in an open crate.

“Good evening, Commander.”

“Lt. Whip,” Cal said and leaned on the counter. “I need some stuff, and I’m not the regulation size, so it might require customization.”

Whip laughed. “Let’s figure it out. What’s on your wish list?”

“I’d like a utility belt in black or brown, so it blends in with my clothes.”

“As it happens, after your kidnapping, I had a comm conversation with the quartermaster at the Jedi Temple,” Lt. Whip said. “The regular utility belt that Jedi wear is too big for you and would end up impacting your movement and the padawan belt is only meant to hold your transceiver and a lightsaber. Your hip and waist measurements are going to rapidly change as you grow over the next few years. Though Human males tend to stay narrow in the hip so that’s in your favor. We can build in some room for adjustments. General Tapal sent me a list of items he’d like to see you carry going forward but asked that I wait for you to come to me.”

Cal nodded. “I was thinking—a comlink, aquata breather, a multi-tool repair kit, and I’d need a spot on the belt for my transceiver.”

Whip put a small crate on the counter between them. “This is what I’ve gathered so far. I need to take some measurements for the belt.” He opened it. “How do you feel about a liquid-cable launcher?”

Cal pursed his lips. “I’m not opposed. My jumping range isn’t great due to my size.”

Whip grinned and put it down on the counter. “I think your range is pretty good, considering that you jumped from a moving transport during your kidnapping. The security footage made it clear that you had no problem with the maneuver.”

“I haven’t watched the security footage that got gathered as part of the investigation. How did you get to see it?”

“General Tapal shared it with the officer corps on the ship after you both returned to the ship,” Whip said. “So, we’d know what you’re capable of in case it comes up later, and we need to facilitate your escape from a situation.” He paused. “I had my chip removed as part of Master Shaak Ti’s study of the technology instead of having it dissolved, Commander.”

Cal grimaced. “I’m sorry you ever had one at all.”

“Freedom is precious, Commander,” Whip said quietly. “I owe mine to you, and I’ll never forget it. And I’ve already promised to never speak of it with those who shouldn’t know about it.”

Cal wondered how that kind of loyalty would play out if the Senate ever turned on the Jedi.

He yawned. “My apologies. I’ve had a long day.”

“Intergalactic politics seems like a lot of work,” Whip said. “This multi-tool will allow you to do repairs on your droid and lightsaber, the grapple launcher, and the rebreather. Also, let’s talk about ration capsules. I know you hate them, but they’ll sustain you if necessary and give you the energy to fight. I have some capsule containers that will hold enough for a week.”

“Okay,” Cal said but made a face. “Let’s get started.”

BD-1 hopped back up on the counter and dropped a collection of items on the surface in front of him from his bottom storage compartment. Cal stared for a moment, then focused on Whip. “Can he have those spare parts?”

Whip laughed. “Let me log them. Does he have storage space for those?”

“He should, yes. He got an upgraded power source, which made room for storing stims and candy.” Cal shrugged when Whip raised an eyebrow at him. “Can I ask a potentially very inappropriate question?”

“Yes, sir,” Whip said as he made several notes on a datapad.

“Is it rude to comment on your facial and hair changes? I don’t think I understood what identity counseling meant, though I did know that Commander Meza got a new face. I’ve noticed that most of the troopers who aren’t wearing their helmets actively are the ones that received facial enhancements or changes.”

“The helmets are a point of irritation for a few,” Whip said. “They’re not designed well, and our field of vision can be limited in them. There are some tech upgrades for that, but there are a lot of us, and ground troops are going to get them first.” Cal nodded. “I’m not offended by questions. What did you want to ask?”

“How did you pick your new face, did it hurt, and how long does it take to heal?”

“The med-droid has a program that allows us to put together different features and see the result. Since ninety-nine percent of the clones have the same face, the program proved to be the easiest to put together. I picked out a different eye shape, changed the line of my jaw, and widened the bridge of my nose based on that program. Options aren’t limitless, of course, and there are close to 3,000,000 of us. I’ve been warned that I could very well encounter a clone that has my new eye shape or even my face due to the number of combinations versus the number of clones. Individuality is a goal, but we must accept reality. It didn’t hurt, and I wore a bacta face mask for about two hours after the procedure.” He paused. “We’ve also been offered gender reassignment, and I’ve heard that several troopers on board are considering that.”

“Is that about individuality or a genuine desire to be a different gender?” Cal questioned.

“We’re being evaluated for body dysmorphia and other mental health issues to make sure we aren’t making reckless choices. If someone elects to have gender reassignment, it will be done because they need it for their mental health,” Whip explained. “Everything is very methodical.”

Cal nodded. “Okay, I just hope everyone makes the best possible choices for themselves. I’ll need to instruct the med-droid to update records and inform the general if a trooper has elected to change their pronouns, so he doesn’t make a mistake on that front.”

“I think that Commander Meza is keeping track of that,” Whip said. “I can send him a comm with a reminder, save you some time.”

“Yes, please,” Cal said and yawned again.

“Okay, Commander, let’s finish this up so you can get some sleep.”

“Oh, also, will there be new armor requirements?” Cal paused and gestured a little in front of himself. “For…ya know.”

Whip laughed. “No, there’s plenty of room in the chest plate for breasts.”

“Great, another thing I’d rather not have anyone misstep on since I have no idea how thorough gender reassignment actually is.”

“With clone technology and the fact that female clones already exist, the reassignment can be as thorough as the trooper wants,” Whip said. “There are reproductive issues to consider, and genetic diversity is in play, but the Senate included the right to reproduce in the Clone Freedom Act as most species consider it a fundamental right. One thing I’m relieved about, though, is that they’ve agreed not to facilitate the creation of more clones in the future. We’re hoping that the Republic outlaws the creation of sapient clones at some point. Cloned organs for transplants or animals for food is one thing, but what was done with us should be a crime.”

“Yeah,” Cal said with a frown. “I realize that none of them actually were part of that whole thing, but their general acceptance of it remains a very big disappointment for me.” He leaned on the counter.

“If you fall asleep in here and I have to carry you to your quarters, you’ll not live it down for months,” Whip said wryly, and Cal huffed as he straightened. “Or I could call the General.”

“Come on, Whip,” Cal whined. “I’m always nice to you! I make sure the General signs off on your requisitions no matter how weird they are.”

* * * *

Jaro looked up from his reading as Cal entered their quarters. The boy looked exhausted, which really didn’t mesh with the activities of the day. Cal could physically train for twelve hours and not look so dead on his feet.

“I got a new utility belt,” Cal said and put it down on the low table in front of the sofa. “Lt. Whip also got me a liquid-cable launcher. I’m super excited to train with it.” He slouched against the chair, and his eyes fluttered shut briefly. “I’m so tired.”

Jaro stood just as his padawan started to slide into the chair and barely caught Cal before he fell over. BD-1 beeped in alarm and bounced on the top of the chair excitedly as Jaro picked Cal up carefully. He took him into his bedroom, put him down on the bed, and tugged off his boots before placing a blanket on top of him. Force energy drifted over Cal’s skin and Jaro took a deep breath before he focused on BD-1.

“Did he encounter anyone that could’ve given him a drug to induce sleep?”

“No,” BD-1 answered immediately. “I not allow that ever. I’d fuck someone up.”

Jaro laughed despite himself. “Did he encounter any of the Force users on the ship between the Mantis and his return to our quarters?”

“No, and only Merrin touched him on the ship. They had a private conversation.” BD-1 hopped from one foot to the other. “Nothing dangerous happened.”

“I won’t ever ask you to violate his privacy, BD-1. I just need to make sure the sleep is natural.”

“Not natural,” BD-1 said. “I think the Force made him sleepy. Maybe he needs to dream since he doesn’t have visions.”

Jaro sighed as he stared at his padawan. “Right.” He left the boy’s room and walked to his desk. The droid had followed him. “BD-1, go ask Obi-Wan Kenobi to join me for a conversation. He should be in his quarters.”

The droid trotted out of his quarters with a beep of agreement. Jaro sat down at his desk and took a deep breath as he very firmly pushed aside the guilt that was swirling around in his gut. He should’ve kept a better eye on his padawan instead of indulging himself with Eeth. He paused over that and made a mental correction. Calling Aaren by any other name, even in his own mind, could be dangerous and lead to a mistake being made.

Jaro also made the conscious choice to put aside the guilt. He was allowed to have a personal life and his padawan should’ve been safe exactly where he was while Jaro had made love with Aaren. It had been more than a year since he’d been able to have that sort of contact with anyone and it had been most certainly needed and desired.

He felt Obi-Wan’s approach, so he stood and opened the door just as his fellow Jedi Master arrived. BD-1 had hitched a ride on Obi-Wan Kenobi’s shoulder like that was something he could just do. He hopped down and trotted back to Cal’s room with a cheerful beep.

“He’s got two legs—two brand new, expensive legs, actually,” Jaro said and Obi-Wan shrugged.

“He’s really cute,” Obi-Wan said. “It’s like he has a droid-puppy personality.”

“He probably does,” Jaro said dryly. “I’ve not checked, but it would make sense. Cal came back to our quarters and literally fell asleep on his feet. I had to put him to bed.”

“He’s dreaming,” Obi-Wan surmised.

“Yes, and I don’t know if it’s the first time the Force has made him to go sleep or not,” Jaro admitted. “I’ve not considered it a possibility, but she certainly has something complicated to share with him that wouldn’t translate well with just her influence while he’s conscious. He’s not old enough, nor does he have the mental stamina to have a prolonged conversation with the Force during meditation.”

“So, sleep is the Force’s only method of giving him a large amount of information,” Obi-Wan said and grimaced. “Not great, but I certainly wouldn’t want her to start throwing visions at him. His plate is quite full.”

Jaro sat on the couch and Obi-Wan sat in the chair that Cal had almost fallen over into.

“Did you enjoy your private conversation with our friend?” Obi-Wan asked and raised an eyebrow.

“He’s content with his choices,” Jaro said. “I can’t say I’ve gotten there myself because he gave up a lot to cover for my actions.”

“Well, one of us was going to do it,” Obi-Wan said. “He only beat Even Piell and Adi Gallia out by a few seconds based on conversations I’ve had with them. I think the only one on the Council who wouldn’t have taken the blame is Yoda. First, because the forensics would’ve never matched due to the size of his lightsaber, but also because he’d have been content with your disappearance as it would’ve left Cal Kestis in his care, ultimately.”

Jaro shook his head. “I don’t think that would’ve gone the way Yoda thinks it would’ve. Cal respects him, but he’d never accept tuition from him.”

“We should probably question him more deeply on that subject at some point,” Obi-Wan said and glanced toward the hallway leading to Cal’s bedroom. “It’s starting.”

“It started before BD-1 came for you,” Jaro said. “And sorry about that. I just didn’t want to discuss this over the ship’s comm.”

Obi-Wan waved him off. “Tea?”

“Tea,” Jaro agreed and stood. “He could dream all night or an hour. The timing is very concerning.”

* * * *

Cal stretched as he left his bedroom; his mind was racing, but he was also starving. He stopped and stared at the sofa which was currently occupied by Master Kenobi. The man stirred, and his eyes opened as Cal stared at him. He pushed aside the blanket he was under and sat up.

“Good morning, Master Kenobi,” Cal said. “Why are you here?”

“Your master is too large to share his bed with someone my size,” Master Kenobi said and stretched. “And you were dreaming. We were both concerned about the contents considering the events of the day.”

“Ah, well.” Cal sighed. “It wasn’t pleasant at all, actually, but I kind of brought it on myself in retrospect. I was speaking with the Luminary, and we might have tempted the Force a little with our speculation. At any rate, I need to speak with Master Skywalker and his wife.”

“Some dream, huh?” Master Kenobi said wryly as he stood. “I’ll retrieve them.”

“BD-1 and I will set up breakfast, then.”

In the kitchen, he let BD-1 handle the food synth and just set the table with everything the droid programmed. A pot of tea was the final addition, and it was placed just as Master Tapal left his bedroom in response to the door chime. He was starving so he sat down in his place and waited for everyone else to come into the kitchen. BD-1 settled on his chair with a little beep just as Master Tapal led their guests into the room.

“Oh, my favorite,” Senator Amidala said as she sat down in front of a plate of fruits and light purple toasted potato bread. There was also a bowl of rice cereal with butter. “How did you know?”

“BD-1 did the ordering,” Cal said. “He must have checked your use of the synth in your own quarters.”

She smiled and picked up a spoon. “The tea, too?”

“Everyone else apparently drinks caff,” Cal said, and she grabbed the little pot with a pleased sound as the others sat down.

“Did you dream all night?” Master Tapal questioned as he sat down in front of his own food. “Thank you, BD-1.”

“Yes, I…it was a lot,” Cal said as he stared at his cereal. He pulled the fruit salad in front of him instead and exhaled slowly.

“Eat first, Padawan,” Master Tapal said firmly, and Cal nodded.

He glanced toward Master Kenobi, who was eating silently. Cal figured their sofa wasn’t a bad place to sleep since it was very comfortable to sit on. But he felt a little guilty that Master Kenobi had been made to do that because of the dreaming situation.

Cal focused on Senator Amidala, who met his gaze and flushed.

“My apologies,” she said. “I don’t mean to stare. I’m just unspeakably curious as to why I’ve been asked to be here.”

“Because my dream was about you,” Cal said simply, and her cheeks paled. “It wasn’t all bad, but I have some profound concerns about your future.”

“Did you dream about her funeral again?” Master Skywalker asked.

“It wasn’t the same dream.” He focused on his food when Master Tapal cleared his throat. The cereal was the right temperature for eating so he dug into that.

They all ate in silence, and he did his best to keep up with the rest of them because the tension was getting high. He wished he hadn’t said what he’d said so soon because there were other elements in the dream that he needed to address as well that certainly took precedence over the issue with Senator Amidala. But he didn’t think that Master Skywalker would allow the conversation to go anywhere until he had an answer about his wife’s safety.

He put his dishes into be cleansed, and the others were quickly clearing the table of their own things as he sat. BD-1 beeped firmly as he used the synth, and Cal found a glass of milk placed in front of him by Master Skywalker.

“Thank you,” Cal said as he pulled the glass toward himself. “I think I need to give context to my dreams for Master Skywalker and Senator Amidala before I discuss what I dreamt of last night.”

“I agree,” Master Kenobi said. “Anakin, I need you to exercise an immense amount of patience right now.”

“Of course,” Master Skywalker said quietly.

“In my first dream, I saw the Jedi Order utterly destroyed by betrayal within,” Cal said. “It led to the deaths of all but two people in this room.” He glanced toward Master Kenobi as he spoke, and the older man paled. “Though the life we led after the fall of the Order was no sort of life at all for a Jedi. So, Master Tapal brought me to Coruscant, and I met with the Jedi Council, where the information I gave them proved to be true. We were able to circumvent the events I’d dreamt of, and those dreams started to fade and grow still in my memory. They’re static now—just terrible memories for me that I’ll carry for the rest of my life.”

“How old were you?” Senator Amidala questioned.

“The same age I am now—I think I prevented the betrayal by a matter of months,” he said quietly. “Considering my dream last night and the dreams I had of your funeral before Chancellor Palpatine’s assassination, I think it was probably around seven months from now.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“You have to be at least three months pregnant,” Cal said frankly, and her mouth dropped open. “I’m sorry for violating your privacy with that, but considering your husband doesn’t appear to be surprised by the information, at least I haven’t ruined a surprise.”

She laughed a little. “I told him before we left Coruscant—as a matter of my personal safety and my child’s.”

“Children,” Cal corrected.

“What?” She asked wide-eyed.

“There are two,” he said and shrugged when she huffed in shock. “Do you want to know their genders?”

“I’ll wait until they’re born,” she said firmly, and Cal nodded. “The healer told me he couldn’t confirm twins for another month at least.”

“Because multiple fertilized eggs don’t always stick,” Cal speculated, and she nodded. “Well, they’re gonna, and they’re already very attached to one another. They have a Force bond forming as we sit here. So, you should be careful with them when they’re very small. Separating them for even short periods would be hurtful.”

She nodded. “I understand.”

“You don’t,” Cal said with a smile. “But you should speak at length with Masters Skywalker and Kenobi about Force bonds and what they mean for yourself and your children. You aren’t devoid of Force-sensitivity, as I’m sure you already know, and the Force bond you share with your husband could and would be the death of you if you don’t know how to mitigate it in the event he…goes dark.”

“I won’t go dark,” Master Skywalker said firmly.

“None of us can promise that, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said gently. “We must be firm in our resolve every single day. Anyone could be emotionally and mentally tortured into a very dark place.” He put a hand on Master Skywalker’s shoulder. “You see that. I know that you do.”

“Is this why the Jedi Order doesn’t want you to have personal attachments?” Senator Amidala questioned, and Cal stared as the other Jedi at the table grimaced and averted their gazes.

“It’s currently what many of them think,” Cal said. “But they’re wrong. I think love is what will keep us all in the light. Many Jedi focus their loyalty and love on the Jedi Order itself, while others give that devotion to the Republic. Giving it to a person is no different in those circumstances. In fact, in some cases, giving yourself to a single person mitigates the risks. If you put everything you have in the Jedi Order, then there are over 10,000 chances you might be betrayed and destroyed.” He focused on Obi-Wan as he spoke. “Some see the Order as a whole and they create their duty around the goals of the Council for good and bad.”

Master Kenobi nodded, and Cal returned his attention to Senator Amidala, who was pale. Her eyes were wet with tears.

“Some would say that intimate love is selfish,” Cal said, and she nodded. “But those people don’t understand how much a person in love is willing to sacrifice for those that they love. Most of the Jedi Order is full of people who don’t remember what it’s like to have a family. So, they don’t understand what parents will do for their children. Or what mates will do for one another in times of great danger.”

She nodded.

“I don’t think you should spend any more time one-on-one with Master Yoda, Master Skywalker.”

Everyone around them stilled, and Anakin Skywalker stared at him in shock. “Are you implying something unsavory about the Grand Master, Cal?”

“No, he’s light,” Cal said and frowned. “But his beliefs are stagnate. He communes with the Cosmic Force so much that he’s lost touch with the other aspects entirely, which is deeply unhealthy. He doesn’t and won’t ever see that and there’s no point in arguing it. In the end, he’s retreating into the Force because of his age. It seems like Master Yoda is very old for his species, and he’s lingering. Maybe he believes he has something left to do, but I don’t know if that path is even open to him anymore.

“The fact is that he can’t help you,” Cal continued. “He’ll never understand you, and he has no faith in your role as the Chosen One. In fact, he has no belief in that prophecy at all and never has. He outright ignores most of the aspects of the Force and is especially disdainful of the Unifying Force. One reason why I could never allow him to teach me is that he’d work to cut me off from the Unifying Force. In fact, he was horrified when I admitted that I was having direct contact with that aspect of the Force.”

“What are you talking about?” Senator Amidala questioned. “What are aspects?”

“Within the Jedi Order, throughout history, the Force has been believed to exist in four aspects,” Master Tapal said when Cal hesitated. “The Living Force, the Unifying Force, the Cosmic Force, and the Physical Force. Within the large population of Force-positive individuals, there are light, dark, and grey users. Having set foot on Dathomir, I can say that nearly all of the population falls in light or grey. There are a few who are very dark, but their presence is largely mitigated by the grey users. The Force vergence on the planet feels dark from the outside, but it’s actually largely feral.”

“Master Yoda acknowledges visions he receives from the Unifying Force, but he is adamantly opposed to the aspect in most other respects as those who rely heavily on the Unifying Force don’t believe there is truly a light or a dark side. They believe that our intent is what makes an act light or dark,” Cal explained.

“What do you think?” she asked.

“I think our intent as we move through the Force is the important part,” Cal said. “Anyone could be driven to do something dark in order to defend themselves or others. Many Jedi who believe themselves to be utterly light don’t have a single problem mentally manipulating other sapient beings to get them to do exactly what they want.”

Master Kenobi winced.

“Ever Master Yoda isn’t above a mind trick or two, and practically any Jedi would declare him the lightest of us all,” Cal said with a shrug, and she huffed. “A fully trained Jedi could control a weak-minded person for years and consider it a light act if all they ever did was make sure the person in question didn’t do anything bad, but what would it make them? To destroy the free will of another to serve the so-called greater good is not a light act. It’s grey at the minimum and dark at the worst.”

“Is this how you make the Jedi Council feel all the time?” Senator Amidala questioned curiously.

“Yes,” Master Kenobi said firmly. “Every single time he visits us. It’s like getting a morals lesson in the crèche, and he’s just thirteen, so we can’t even get mad about it without feeling really inappropriate.”

That was interesting information to have, so Cal filed that away and drank some milk when BD-1 beeped at him to drink. Protecting him turned out to also include monitoring his nutritional intake, which he indulged to avoid lectures. He drank half the milk and then used a napkin to wipe his mouth.

“Your babies will be very powerful,” Cal said and her breath caught. “They’ll be coveted by those in power from various different directions. Those that don’t want to control them will probably try to kill them. Resentment is building against the Jedi because of the war with the Separatists. Most people don’t recognize that many of the planets that are being controlled by the Confederacy are being destroyed—stripped of resources and the people enslaved or outright killed.

“Most also don’t get the fact that the Separatists aren’t freedom fighters. They’re empire builders. Dooku would rule over this galaxy as emperor, and he will if something isn’t done.”

“You dreamt that we lose the war,” Master Skywalker said.

“I dreamt of your corruption, and in your fall, you take us all with you,” Cal said plainly, and Master Skywalker paled. “The darkness consumes you, and it will kill your wife through the bond you share with her. She’ll survive long enough to give birth to her children, but they’ll be separated for their own safety. This will cause darkness to breed further into the Skywalker line, and one of the twins will have a set of twins of their own. One of those children will turn so dark he’ll be a threat to the actual Force herself.”

Senator Amidala burst into tears.

Cal said nothing as Master Skywalker picked up his wife and settled her in his lap. She curled into him and cried like a child. He felt terrible for his part in her upset. Master Kenobi was pale and dark-eyed. His own master looked furious. Cal was startled by that as he hadn’t seen that look on his master’s face except for once, in a faded dream.

“Tell me exactly why Master Yoda’s influence over Master Skywalker will cause his fall,” Master Tapal ordered stiffly, and Senator Amidala grew abruptly quiet. “The implications are clear, Padawan.”

Cal watched her pluck a napkin from the dispenser and wipe her face.

“Because he’s had visions of Master Skywalker’s downfall for years, and he did nothing to mitigate them. I don’t know if he knew the source, and maybe he spent all this time looking for it, but he knew that Master Skywalker was in danger. Even now, he thinks the best way to deal with Master Skywalker is to control him as if such a thing in itself isn’t an immense betrayal.” Cal finished his milk and set aside the glass. “Master Skywalker, will you commune with the Force with me?”

His master exhaled sharply. “Padawan.”

“Trust me,” Cal said implored.

Master Tapal nodded slowly. “Of course, Cal.” He cleared his throat. “What did you feel from Master Yoda when he touched you? The day he declared you the Righteous One, you allowed him to touch the Force inside of you. What did you learn from him that day?”

“That he’s light but arrogantly convinced that only he can protect the Jedi Order. His focus is so narrow that he’d sacrifice every single person in this room to prove himself right,” Cal said. “Master Yoda is also so removed from the living that we’re all essentially game pieces on a shah-tezh demesne. But his lack of compassion is actually the goal, right?”

“It’s never been mine,” Master Tapal murmured. “But, yes, the tenets are ultimately designed to make a Jedi view the galaxy from a deeply neutral, passionless place.”

“Neutrality is cowardice,” Cal said, and they all stared at him in shock. “You rarely see someone declare themselves neutral outside of conflict. Then they’re just telling you that they have no genuine conviction, you can’t depend on them, and they don’t actually care about right and wrong. Justice is meaningless to the neutral party. If they survive the situation, then the victor may see them as useful, or maybe they’ll be ignored outright, but either way, they took as few risks as possible.”

“You get more jaded by the moment,” Master Tapal said and shook his head as Cal laughed a little.

Chapter 15

Cal took a deep breath and slowly exhaled as Force energy spread around him. He resisted the urge to close his eyes as he focused on Anakin Skywalker. Due to his own circumstances, he saw a lot of himself in the man, and that was a point of concern for him.

“Loss is part of life,” Cal said, and Master Skywalker nodded. “But we’re never alone, not even in our deepest moments of grief if we have faith in the Force.” He reached out and put his hand in the center of the man’s chest. “My spirituality is off-putting to you.”

“Yes,” Master Skywalker admitted. “I’ve never allowed myself to embrace the Force the way you have.”

“Because you were taken away from your mother, the first person to love you, by the Jedi Order,” Cal said. “Qui-Gon Jinn freed you but didn’t give your mother a second thought. Then she was murdered, but what most don’t know or realize is that she died a slave, married to a man who won her in a bet.”

Master Skywalker shuddered, and his hand settled on top of Cal’s. “Yes. Maybe he loved her. Maybe he freed her as he said, but what freedom did she really have?”

“None,” Cal said. “She had no choices, and when you were small—you had none as well. Qui-Gon Jinn ripped you away from your mother, got himself killed, and left you with a group of people who only begrudgingly accepted you because it was his dying wish. Even now, Yoda’s distrust of you has made the others on the Council doubt you and your dedication to the Order.”

“Is the Force telling you all of this?”

“The dream was long and brutal,” Cal murmured. “You have a darkness inside of you, Master Skywalker, and it was you who allowed it to gain purchase. It’s made you emotionally unstable.”

“Is this hurting you?” Master Tapal questioned. “The dark side isn’t supposed to be able to touch you.”

“It’s not touching me,” Cal said quietly, and he pushed gently with the Force. Master Skywalker’s breath caught. He pushed again. “This is going to hurt.”

“I can take it,” Master Skywalker murmured. “And I’ll accept every bit of this pain for my family.”

He pushed again, and Force energy darkened around them. Cal closed his eyes. “Many believe that the dark side of the Force is more powerful, but that’s not necessarily true. Profound dedication to any aspect of the Force combined with knowledge and Force-sensitivity increases your power. Your true power will come to you through communion with the Unifying Force. Balance comes from unity.”

“Yes, I agree,” Master Skywalker murmured. “I’m ready.”

Cal pushed hard, and Master Skywalker groaned harshly as Force energy crackled around them like lightning.

“Anakin?” Senator Amidala demanded.

“Don’t touch me, Padmé,” Master Skywalker said as his breathing grew labored. “It might hurt you, too. I deserve this.”

“You don’t deserve it,” Cal said quietly. “This isn’t punishment, Master Skywalker. It’s a cleansing. Whatever bred this darkness inside of you cannot be dwelled upon anymore. The Force is going to take it from you now, and you will be Ever Light, just like me. Some will see this as a gift, and maybe the boldest of them will tell you that you didn’t deserve this from me. But it’s not a gift. It’s a burden, and you’ll understand that in time.”

“For my family,” Master Skywalker murmured. “I’ll accept whatever burden the Force wishes me to take on.”

Cal closed his eyes, pushed as hard he could, and Anakin Skywalker screamed. He felt, but did not see, the memory of what the man had done as it was ripped out of his mind, and he shuddered. For a brief moment, emotions bombarded him—grief, rage, and finally, an immense amount of guilt. Then, it all floated away from them, and silence settled.

He opened his eyes and found Master Skywalker staring at him with tears streaming down his face. Cal pulled his hand away and took a deep breath.

“Your mom was beautiful,” Cal said, and Master Skywalker’s breath hitched. “You can keep her close to you now because the Force has taken your mother’s spirit into her care.”

Master Skywalker nodded. “I feel her.” He wiped his face with one shaking hand. “Thank you.”

“You could’ve done it on your own,” Cal said. “But it would’ve taken decades and a great deal of self-destruction. You can’t let your past burden you going forward.” He paused. “Also, Righteous One to Chosen One, I do think you have it rougher.”

“You’ve got some years ahead of you, kid,” Master Skywalker said. “Not that I wish it on you. I just don’t think any of us are going to have a lot of choices on that front.”

Cal shrugged. “Master Tapal is a pretty big deterrent.” He yawned and stretched as they all laughed. “As much as I slept, I don’t think I actually rested much. You won’t be able to hide that I did this from the Council, especially. They all pay way too much attention to you. I don’t care what you tell them about it.”

“I wouldn’t want anyone to assume that they can demand something like this from you,” Master Skywalker said. “Many would consider it a very valuable skill that should be made available to the Order at large.”

“Oh, well, don’t worry about that,” Cal yawned again. “I couldn’t do it without the Force’s permission and help so they can ask all they want. It won’t make it happen.”

“You should rest, Padawan,” Master Tapal said, and Cal found himself being prodded gently to his feet.

“I need to change into my pajamas this time,” Cal muttered, and Master Tapal just laughed as he led him into his own bedroom. “I’m not fit for duty. This is awful.”

“You’ve worked quite enough for the day,” Master Tapal said gently.

Jaro had never had a padawan young enough that he had to guide them through dressing, so it was an amusing experience to get Cal to change into pajamas and crawl into bed like a very small child. The boy was unconscious again within moments of getting under a blanket. Fortunately, the sleep looked natural and unburdened by the Force.

His three guests were on the sofa together when he came back out. Padmé Amidala was crying, but it looked like relief more than anything else.

Jaro sat down across from them and took a deep breath. “He doesn’t expect your gratitude or anything else for that matter.” He paused as all three of them focused on him. “I do.”

“Of course, Jaro,” Obi-Wan said gently. “Though I was already on your side before he did this. I believe I’ve demonstrated my support of you concerning his safety since the very beginning.”

“You have,” Jaro agreed. “I just need…I need to know that if I were to be taken out of the picture, that he wouldn’t be alone and that he wouldn’t be sacrificed to the Republic to protect the Order.”

“Who would….” Padmé trailed off. “Oh.”

“What?” Anakin questioned.

“Anakin, how many padawans are allowed out of the temple in the care of anyone but their master?” Padmé questioned.

Anakin frowned. “None…. Well.” He took a deep breath. “Obi-Wan?”

“The Council refused to allow me to say no,” Obi-Wan said quietly. “I even tried to get assigned off-world so I could take you as far from him as possible. They investigated his interest, and once it was determined that he didn’t have any sexual interest in children…they saw no reason to deny him your companionship. There came a point when Chancellor Palpatine’s mentorship of you seemed more valuable to you than mine.”

“Never,” Anakin said and took the older man’s hand. “Obi-Wan. Never. I promise.” He frowned. “But I remember being extremely loyal to him at one point, but I don’t feel that way anymore.” He rubbed his chest with his free hand, and his wife leaned into him. “Why would he….”

“He groomed you,” Padmé snapped and left the couch as she took in a ragged breath. “He did the same thing to me when I was younger. He fawned over me when I was queen, and the tone changed after I became a senator. Did he use the Force to manipulate you, Anakin? Can you tell?”

“I can’t,” Anakin admitted. “I’d have never suspected he was Force-sensitive at all. I’m not sure if we could find out at this point. He certainly never trained as a Jedi. With the darkness gone, I can see how some of the things he said and did were inappropriate. He invested a lot of time in criticizing the Jedi Order and blaming them for the death of my mother. It was like he was creating a festering wound inside of me that he wouldn’t allow to be healed.”

“There are many ways to control a person that have nothing to do with the Force,” Jaro said. “Emotional manipulation can be extremely effective in the long term because it allows hatred and resentment to build up until you boil over.”

“And go dark,” Padmé said, and Jaro nodded. “Right.” Her hand fell to her flat stomach. “Why would he want to destroy the Jedi Order?” She bit down on her lip. “I’m part of an investigation being organized by Chancellor Organa’s office into Sheev Palpatine’s actions while he was Supreme Chancellor. I can’t discuss the details, but he had some unsavory associations.”

“With Dooku,” Jaro said, and she winced. “Chancellor Organa is investigating the situation because the Jedi Council had concerns due to the unexpected hostility between Palpatine and Jedi Master Eeth Koth.”

“I’m beginning to think that Master Koth saved us all,” Anakin said quietly and took a deep breath. “I think the Force demanded something unthinkable from him, and it makes me wonder what it will demand from me.”

“Surely nothing you can’t handle going forward,” Obi-Wan said firmly, and Anakin just nodded.

“I’ll do whatever is required,” Anakin said and pulled his wife back onto the sofa when she returned to him. “I can see now that my grief over my mother’s murder was very corruptive, and I think Sheev Palpatine manipulated that. I feel sick.” He rubbed his mouth. “I owe Cal Kestis my life and the lives of all the ones that I love. I don’t know how to repay such a debt.”

“Be light. Respect the Force,” Jaro said. “Live a good life. Protect your family. Love your wife with an unselfish heart. Be a good father to your children. Let him be proud of the fact that he helped you. Just live up to his very simple expectations, Anakin. It’s all he’d ever ask of you.”

“And what do you ask of me?” Anakin questioned.

“Have Cal Kestis’ back for the rest of your life,” Jaro said. “Never, ever betray him in word or deed.”

“I can see why your students are the way they are,” Anakin said. “I met your former padawan, Daro Beck, last year. She was immensely competent and thoughtful. Her expectations were exacting but reasonable. She expected competence in return and was genuinely appalled to be confronted by more than one individual who had no idea what they were doing. She threatened to quit the mission when one of my troopers just suggested we wing it rather than make a plan for infiltrating a Separatist stronghold.”

Jaro was equally appalled at the thought of Daro being made to wing it. His own disgust must have shown on his face because they all three laughed at him. “Humans are honestly so frustrating sometimes.” He focused on Senator Amidala. “Congratulations, Senator. I’d have never allowed you on my ship if I’d known you were carrying children.”

She flushed. “I assumed as much. Your species is quite known for being protective of expectant mothers and children. But I’m perfectly fine physically. I’m a little emotional.” She shrugged.

“But probably not more than anyone else would be in your position,” Obi-Wan said and sighed. “I think I’m more emotional about all of this than the two of you combined.” He rubbed his face with both hands. “And I don’t know how to explain what Cal did to the Council without it becoming a big deal. It’ll certainly be another reason for Yoda to focus on him.”

“Why is Master Yoda so focused on Cal?” Senator Amidala questioned. “Is that Jedi business?”

“It is,” Jaro said. “I’d never want to create a conflict of interest for you, Senator.”

“Please call me Padmé,” she said firmly. “I can and will create separation for issues regarding the Jedi. I don’t have a choice, considering my marriage and the fact that my children will be Force-sensitive. What happens to you could very well happen to my babies.”

“Jaro then,” he offered in return, and she nodded. “Cal’s relationship with the Force and his status as the Righteous One is unique and Master Yoda believes himself most suited to mentoring him as a result. The fact that neither Cal nor I are interested in that is off-putting to him. Moreover, Chancellor Organa likes Cal a lot, and the Council knows this.”

“Bail enjoys children,” Padmé said. “He and his wife can’t have their own, so they’re currently considering adoption options. There are many orphaned children all over the galaxy because of the war. It’s one of the projects I’m going to be focused on going forward within the Senate. There are issues concerning cultural legacies, but I think sometimes sacrifices have to be made for the purpose of safety.

“That being said, he’s nothing like Sheev and wouldn’t seek to groom a child for political purposes. I suppose that can’t be said for whoever comes after him, and that means that we really must remove the Jedi Academy and main crèche from Coruscant. I believe it would serve the Order well to have a genuine homeworld that gives you citizenship that is not dependent on service to the Republic.”

“How do you think the Senate will respond to that?”

“If it’s couched as another sacrifice the Jedi are making for the Republic, then they will eat it up,” Padmé said plainly. “They expect the Jedi Order to repeatedly sacrifice themselves for the good and safety of the Republic, Jaro. I can play on that belief all day long, and they’ll never realize it.” She lifted her chin when he raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t get elected queen of my world at the age of fourteen for no reason. I assure you, there isn’t a single individual in the Senate that I can’t run circles around if I want. While I’ve never done it—I learned how to manipulate people at the knee of Sheev Palpatine.

“Lessons I’m sure he’d be quite distressed to have taught me if he were still alive. But I’m willing to do everything possible to make sure my babies are as safe as possible as they grow up. Plus, I want her vision to come true.”

“What vision?” Anakin asked.

“The Luminary said she saw Obi-Wan teaching a pair of children to build lightsabers. Surely, those children are ours,” Padmé said and glanced toward Obi-Wan, who looked very pleased.

“There is a precedent for twins with a Force bond to have the same Jedi Master,” Jaro said, and Padmé smiled brightly. “Though it has been over a thousand years since such a circumstance was a thing.”

“There’s no one else I’d rather have to train my children,” Anakin said quietly.

“You’re all being very charming,” Jaro said and stood. “Go do it elsewhere. I have a great deal of work to do.”

Obi-Wan stretched as they all stood with smiles. “I can take your shift on the bridge, manage whatever needs to be managed so you can keep an eye on Cal.”

Jaro hesitated only briefly before nodding. “Commander Meza is on duty for another seven hours then Captain Bane will take his place. Just handle any admin tasks that need to be done and leave them to it. They know to contact me if necessary. I told both of them that Cal had a rough night due to a Force-related matter.”

Hours later, his padawan sat down on the sofa and slouched against him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Anakin Skywalker became Darth Vader,” Cal whispered and Jaro’s eyes fluttered shut briefly as he put an arm around the boy. “He murdered Cere. I….” He wiped his face with a shaking hand. “It was so hard to do what I did for him. I can’t blame the version of him that just went through the worst sort of emotional pain possible so that he could get rid of the taint that Palpatine nurtured inside of him. But some small part of me loathes him for his weakness, no matter how irrational that is. Palpatine probably made him vulnerable to the dark when he was younger than me.”

“Yes, certainly,” Jaro said and relaxed on the sofa as his padawan pressed against him. Cal didn’t often seek physical contact with anyone, and it had been something he’d been warned about before he’d taken him as a padawan. “You can’t hold onto the hatred for a future bad act that can no longer happen.”

“I know,” Cal said. “I just had to tell someone, and I know that I shouldn’t ever tell anyone else. It wouldn’t be fair to him. The Force told me that she owed Anakin Skywalker a better future, and I agreed to help her accomplish it. In the end, Palpatine is to blame for everything that happened, and I have to remember that. His corruptive influence seemed to have no end. I’m so relieved he’s dead.”

“I am as well.”

“Father Aaren is Eeth Koth,” Cal said. “I’m glad he’s on Dathomir. He’ll keep Merrin safe when I can’t.”

“Did the Force tell you that?”

“No.” Cal took a deep breath. “You allowed him into our private space, and you’d have never done that with a stranger. He also had free rein of the ship, which probably raised some eyebrows with the troopers, though none of them would question you on the subject. I figured I’d tell one or two of them how much I trust Father Aaren to kind of spread it around that I influenced your decision. I mean, otherwise, they’re going to start to speculate amongst themselves, and there’s no need for them to draw the right wrong conclusion.”

“The right wrong conclusion?”

“Well, they’ll probably assume you’re having an affair with Father Aaren when really you’re just continuing a decades-long affair with Eeth Koth.” Cal shrugged when Jaro huffed in shock. “I already knew that, though. It didn’t really surprise me when he took credit for your kill.”

“How did you know?” Jaro questioned.

“Master Frantar contacted me and told me that it was my duty to run interference as needed on the matter of Master Koth,” Cal said in amusement. “She said that I should expect him to show up now and again, and I should make myself scarce so that you can have private time with him.”

Jos Frantar was his very first padawan and he only very rarely regretted that choice. “Lasat females are rather known for their nosiness.”

Cal laughed. “She’s my favorite of all the other padawans. Though I do hold a special regard for Wilaj Kymra because of his sheer audacity, which I look forward to cultivating for myself.”

“That’s decades away, Padawan,” Jaro said, and Cal laughed. “Hungry?”

“Very,” Cal admitted. “BD is probably sitting by the synth as patiently as he knows how, waiting to boss my food around. Do we have any tasks to handle on the bridge?”

“Obi-Wan took a shift for me and handled all of that,” Jaro said.

“I’m sorry if I kept you up last night.” Cal stood and trotted off to the kitchen.

Jaro followed. “I slept decently. Obi-Wan decided to stay in case we needed to take quick action after the Force basically made you go to sleep. It was clear, from the start, that it wasn’t a natural sleep. Do you think it’s happened before?”

“Think maybe the very first dream I had. I remember being super sleepy that night and stumbling around when I was getting ready for bed.” Cal carried a bowl to the table with a soft groan and retrieved silverware for them both, then a teapot. “BD, did you get this from Greez?”

“Greez gave me synth recipes. He said it won’t be as good as fresh, but it is good enough for when he’s not around to make it for you.”

“What is it?” Jaro questioned.

“Umberhash,” Cal said as he poured himself some tea. “Shredded nerf steak, Corellian potato rice, onions, carrots, and secret spices. Greez makes it from real ingredients, and it’s my favorite. I hope the synth version is at least half as good.” He dug in and groaned around his spoon.

“Good?” Jaro questioned in amusement, and the boy nodded quickly. “BD-1, will you program me the same? I’m very interested in trying it.” His bowl was three times the size of Cal’s, which was amusing but also interesting. “Did you look up my nutritional requirements?”

“Yes, of course,” BD-1 said and hopped down off the counter. “Food is important for an organic’s survival.”

He took his food to the table and poured tea for himself. The first bite was startling and probably the best food he’d ever gotten out of the synth. “Your friend could have a career in programming food recipes for the synth. BD-1, ensure Captain Dritus is credited appropriately for the recipe, and I’ll make sure he receives the standard royalty payment from the GAR for it.”

“Wait until you try to real thing,” Cal said. “Though this is actually very close. I hope the troopers try it. I think they’ll like it, too. It’s very protein-heavy, and they need the calories since they work such long shifts. Should we work on that?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, twelve-hour shifts are a long haul. We could split into three shifts instead and run eight-hour shifts easily with our current crew complement outside of battle stations. It would allow us to cross-train as well and move them around to various tasks and jobs to keep their interest up. Plus, they’d generally be more well-rested for battle situations.”

Jaro hummed under his breath. “Let me think about it. The clones are designed to only need five hours of sleep every twenty-four hours, which is why the twelve-hour schedule was created.”

Cal nodded. “Can you think about time off as well? I think they need at least one day off every four. Do we have that kind of leeway regarding scheduling?”

Jaro shrugged. “It’s our ship, Padawan. Moreover, we have the ear of a High General. Obi-Wan Kenobi can make sweeping changes across the entire GAR if he deems it necessary, and precious few would argue with him.”

Cal offered him a bright smile and dug into his food. “Great, then, can we also talk about continuing education? We should help them figure out what they want to do next and what kind of skills can translate into civilian life when the Republic downsizes the GAR.”

“You think they will?” Jaro questioned. “Because I don’t. Once an army of this size is formed, letting it go becomes difficult. They’ll find reasons to keep it, Cal. Peacekeeping, territory defense, and general security for the Republic will be foremost in their minds for generations to come after what the Trade Federation has done.”

“Oh, well.” Cal frowned. “Maybe, but that doesn’t mean they get to keep all of the clones, you know. They’re free, and maybe they’ll want to do other stuff after the war. The Republic will have to create a military academy and recruit for the future if they want to run around policing the whole galaxy.”

“You find that upsetting?”

“It reminds me of the dream,” Cal admitted. “And the Empire. I know that I can trust Chancellor Organa, but what about the person that comes next?” He waved a hand. “I’ll just have to keep an eye on them and put my righteous foot down if they don’t do what they should.”

Jaro couldn’t help but grin at him.

“But speaking of disappointing people, in my horrible dream from last night, I encountered someone familiar. I think that the Jedi Council needs to investigate Wilhuff Tarkin.”

“He’s currently serving in the officer ranks on Master Piell’s ship,” Jaro said. “What kind of concerns do you have?”

“At some point, he found out that Palpatine was a Sith, and he worked with him toward his goals,” Cal said, and Jaro barely refrained from swearing. “I don’t know if that event has already happened or if it was a future event that we’ve already circumvented. Also, I know that I time traveled.”

Jaro took a deep breath. “I was hoping you wouldn’t figure that out for years to come.”

“I know,” Cal said. “And I’m sorry.”

“None of this is your fault, Cal.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure I decided to time travel,” Cal said, and Jaro laughed. “But I don’t regret it. The future was ugly and mean. Everything is better now, and I’ll move past what I learned about Master Skywalker. Because I’ve made sure it won’t happen again.”

“I don’t know how the Council will respond to what you’ve done for him,” Jaro said. “Some of them might react badly.”

“Then we’ll know that they are definitely a problem,” Cal said with a shrug. “Better to know now versus later, right?”

“Certainly,” Jaro said and wondered how many enemies he’d make before he had the honor of knighting Cal Kestis.

* * * *

Jaro rarely sat in his office located just off the bridge, but he needed to read the regulations regarding scheduling to see if there were any restrictions on him on how long he could work the clones. In an appalling turn of events, he’d realized there were no restrictions at all. He could, in fact, run them to the point of death with no ramifications. However, the other side of it was there was no rule regarding him changing to an eight-hour shift system, which he did think would aid battle readiness.

Part of him mourned Cal’s rapidly disappearing youth, but he appreciated the mature perspective he was being gifted when it came to his interactions with his padawan. It was a circumstance he hadn’t considered possible for many years to come. Human males matured slowly, comparatively speaking, based on what he’d read and experienced amongst his peers. Granted, many of the Humans that he’d trained with as a child had already passed due to age or in combat. Mostly, he could acknowledge, in combat.

“Cal said you were in here reading,” Obi-Wan Kenobi said from the open doorway. “Can we speak?”

“Yes, of course.” He motioned Obi-Wan inside, and the man shut the door as he crossed the threshold of the room. “Problem?”

“To get ahead of the situation with Anakin,” Obi-Wan began then shook his head. “He has more than one. Let me start over. I sent a message to Mace detailing what happened between Cal and Anakin last night in a way that I hoped downplayed the whole thing. I pretended to understand very little about what happened and encouraged Anakin to adopt the same position. I believe that whatever gets revealed about the event should be your decision as Cal’s guardian. He might be inclined toward revealing the whole of it to the Council because he does not fear the consequences. He feels uniquely protected by the Force.”

“I noted that,” Jaro admitted. “And he’s not wrong to be content in that protection, but I will make sure it’s tempered with common sense. What was the response?”

“They want to see both of them as soon as possible. I told them that it’ll be difficult to get Cal off this ship due to the current mission, and they’ll have to wait. I suggested they might have to see them individually instead of together. They countered that with the suggestion that I take command of the ship and send you back to Coruscant with Anakin and Cal.”

Jaro considered that. “It’s viable and it would allow us to return Senator Amidala as well. Cal would be more willing to leave if we take the Luminary with us for her visit to the Senate.”

“Then we need to go back down and have a conversation with the Luminary and her people,” Obi-Wan said. “I imagine that Cal’s approval of the plan will go a long way with her.” He sighed. “Please know that I trust you completely, but I want to be in that meeting physically rather than appear in a holographic form.”

“I understand,” Jaro said. “I’d feel no different if it were one of my former padawans.” He paused and considered that. “In fact, I have a solution that puts us both on a ship back to Coruscant.” He activated the comm station and contacted the only one of his former padawans serving actively in the GAR. The holographic projector activated immediately.

Jos Frantar appeared in a full-body hologram at parade rest. “General Tapal.” She paused. “General Kenobi. How may I be of service to the Republic?”

“I’m in orbit above Dathomir on a defensive mission of the planet and population,” Jaro said, and she nodded. “Where are you?”

“I’m three hours at best speed from your location, sir, and one hour from finishing a sector patrol on an intelligence mission. Once I complete it, I’m to return to Coruscant to be moved to a new command. I’m to receive a MedStar frigate, called the Morning Star, with a full mobile hospital. My troopers and I are very pleased with the upgrade. Our current ship, the Bright Vigil, will be going through a refit in the next month and utilized as a medical ship for the clones’ identity counseling program going forward.” She paused. “A fitting and hopeful duty for her, I believe.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “I’ll submit new orders to GAR Command, General Frantar. You’re ordered to come to Dathomir after the completion of your mission and take temporary command of the Albedo Brave. General Tapal and I will return the Bright Vigil to Coruscant on your behalf. Are you keeping you troopers for your next command?”

“Yes, they’re getting a month of leave on Coruscant and will join me on my new ship at that time,” Jos said. “Can I expect to get a briefing upon my arrival?”

“A thorough one,” Jaro promised, and she nodded.

“Very well, sirs, I will see you as soon as possible.”

Jaro sat back as the transmission ended. “She has a padawan that I haven’t had a chance to meet.”

“Getting a grandpadawan is a very interesting experience. Ahsoka often seeks my attention with little to no regard for protocol, and Anakin just allows it.” He paused. “I would’ve not been so lenient if Qui-Gon were alive if I’m to be frank.”

“Well, considering the individual, I don’t blame you,” Jaro said. “Of my former padawans, only Jos has taken on padawans. The others don’t have the kind of work, currently, that makes having a student with them a viable situation.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “I’ve been told that Master Frantar is highly sought after by the initiates. Much like you are.”

Jaro raised an eyebrow. “Cal was one of only three initiates at the academy who spoke to me of their own volition when I was seeking a new padawan.”

“You’re a legend, Jaro,” Obi-Wan said, and Jaro huffed. “I can’t imagine how your next round will go, considering the footage of you pursuing Cal’s kidnappers. Nearly any initiate would be eager to have your intention due to the furious dedication you demonstrated regarding Cal’s safety.”

“Oh, well, it’ll be many decades from now,” Jaro said easily and shrugged when Obi-Wan looked confused. “I won’t take another padawan while Cal’s alive. I need to be able to drop whatever I’m doing at any point and come to his defense or aid until the day he passes naturally.”

“I….” Obi-Wan sighed. “Jaro, you have to know that many will find that position very concerning.”

“I’m sure, and I don’t care,” Jaro said with a shrug. “There are far more Jedi Masters available to train students than there are students. I don’t know that I have anything all that unique to offer a student beyond psychometry, which is an extremely rare gift. A gift that Mace Windu pursues ardently when seeking a padawan since he likes to collect little spies. I was worried that Cal would accept his offer before even considering mine. It was interesting to find out that Mace didn’t offer at all.”

“Oh, he intended on it,” Obi-Wan said wryly. “But you beat him on the offer, and he didn’t want to lose out to you again. He wasn’t sure that Cal would want to wait until Suo was knighted. He’d already lost out to you on the subject of Daro Beck. Had Yoda known about Cal’s potential, he would’ve made sure that he would’ve only had one choice. As he has a history of such behavior. He did it to me. I didn’t find out until I joined the Council that several masters wanted to offer, but he dissuaded them, so I’d only have Qui-Gon as a choice, and he didn’t want another padawan at all.”

“He favored Qui-Gon,” Jaro said. “I interviewed Qui-Gon when he was at the academy, and Yoda was, looking back on it, offended that I didn’t prepare an offer for his favored student. In fact, as far as I know, Qui-Gon Jinn only became Dooku’s padawan because Yoda insisted when no one else stepped up. I personally suggested he be reassigned to the exploration corps. He would’ve been more useful there and less dangerous.”

“So, you blame him for Xanatos’ corruption as well?” Obi-Wan asked curiously.

“No, but I do find fault with the fact that he took Xanatos as a padawan at all. In fact, Yoda should’ve realized it was a problem and I believe that his acceptance of Xanatos is the reason the Council eventually tried to reject Anakin. They tainted him by association since Qui-Gon found them both well past the age of what most consider to be reasonable regarding training, especially for Humans. It seems like Humans must be indoctrinated quite young for the current tenets to stick.”

“Indoctrinated,” Obi-Wan repeated and exhaled noisily. “The next time it’s suggested you be invited to join the Council, I’m going to tell them you said that to me.”

Jaro grinned. “Please. I beg of you.”

Chapter 16

Greez had taken Senator Amidala and Master Obi-Wan Kenobi down to Dathomir to have a conversation with Merrin. The only reason he hadn’t been extremely put out by the whole thing was that Cere had accompanied them as well, and he’d been assured they intended to return to the ship with Merrin. Cal didn’t like it at all, but he had duties to attend to since Master Frantar had arrived with her padawan. Both Lasats were getting a briefing on the mission, and Cal was doing his best to pay attention from his place at the holotable.

Commander Meza was standing with him, working with him to assign tasks since Talon Knof, Master Frantar’s padawan, worked in engineering on her ship. Cal found that kind of weird since he felt like his place on duty was by his master’s side. It was clear that Talon Knof was equally put off by Cal’s position on the Albedo Brave despite the fact they had the same rank.

Cal had been a padawan a full twelve months longer than Talon, which normally had no play in a conversation unless they had to determine military rank amongst them for a command situation. He had more time in rank thus outranked Talon. Ahsoka outranked them both. Talon had been educated at the temple on Devaron, which was not uncommon for Jedi initiates who were technically inclined. Though Cal had always thought the combat training on Devaron was very attractive compared to what he’d had on Coruscant.

All that said, he really didn’t like Talon, and he hoped it wasn’t showing on his face. Both Master Frantar and her padawan were dressed in traditional Jedi robes, but that wasn’t unusual. Master Kenobi wore a military uniform and armor, while Master Skywalker wore robes, and his padawan did the same. There was no clear regulation on the subject.

He held out a datapad as his master walked by, and it was taken from his hand.

“Status?”

“The Luminary of Dathomir has agreed to travel to Coruscant with Senator Amidala without an entourage. Father Aaren is attending to her security.”

“Very well,” Master Tapal said.

“The comm relay on the planet is transmitting, and the communication satellite installation is on schedule. Trooper Tanner reports that the system-wide sensor grid is ready to be married to the satellite once an orbit is successful.” He changed the projection on the holotable to reveal the sensor grid and the governing satellite. “Fifteen minutes at the outside for task completion.”

“Thank you, Commander,” Master Tapal said as he reviewed the datapad. “Thoughts on the orbital defense proposal.”

“Dathomir is smaller than the average planet the system is designed for,” Cal said. “We’d have to reprogram and reconfigure the line of sight on every single defense station since we don’t want to ask the manufacturer to handle that as a matter of security. Deployment will take a month.”

“That’s an expensive equipment to give to a non-Republic planet,” Commander Knof interjected.

“Dathomir doesn’t require anyone’s charity, much less the Republic’s, Commander Knof,” Cal said. “The Luminary has requested this technology and has already arranged for payment. We’re merely providing the labor as a gesture of goodwill on behalf of the Republic.” He focused on his master. “I think we need to bring in a dedicated engineer to handle the project. While the project would not tax our workload unduly, providing a contract and involving the Dathomiri in the deployment would increase their ease with the project and demonstrate the Republic’s act of goodwill to a larger audience.”

“Savvy,” Master Frantar praised. “Do you have an engineer in mind, Commander Kestis?”

“Thank you, General Frantar, and I don’t,” Cal said. “I’m not well versed in the civilian sectors and government contracts as that’s not something that General Tapal normally bothers with. But with the amount of credits being spent on the war, involving civilian contractors and spreading the credits around is only to the Republic’s good.” He focused on his master. “Considering the Separatists’ interest in Bracca and the Republic’s interest in keeping Bracca loyal, perhaps we should investigate their engineering guilds and cultivate a relationship there for Dathomir. This project won’t be the only one we have that will need civilian engineers if everything goes as planned.”

“Agreed,” Master Tapal said. “You can start your research as we travel back to Coruscant. I want a list of names, qualifications, and potential projects within five solar days.”

“Yes, sir,” Cal said and returned his attention to holotable. Ahsoka left the command bay and joined him. “Have a suggestion?”

“I do,” Ahsoka said. “The engineering guilds on Bracca are second to none, which is why Dooku is targeting them. Resource management and mining, however, are very much in the wheelhouse of the Ugnaughts of Gentes. Their mining clans are task-focused, worth the credits they charge, and they’re job-loyal. I think that will appeal to the Dathomiri since they live in such harsh conditions.”

Cal nodded.

“Why?” Talon Knof asked. “What do primitive living conditions have to do with anything?”

“She said harsh, not primitive,” Cal corrected. “And the word matters. As to your question, the people on Dathomir work hard every single day to live and thrive in various different environments all over the planet. Thus, they will find a great deal of value in a species like the Ugnaughts, who have an excellent and well-known work ethic.” He focused on Ahsoka. “You wrote a paper on them during your last year at the Jedi Academy. I think I remember reading it, but I’m not sure.”

“Yes, I’ll forward you a copy,” Ahsoka said. “I hope it will give you some good insights. I also have several recordings of interviews I conducted. Would you like those?”

“Yes. The Luminary will certainly want to see them. The Ugnaughts like desert environs, right?”

“They adore them,” Ahsoka said and made a face. “I’m vehemently opposed to deserts and sand in my boots.”

Cal made a face. “Not my favorite, but I’d take a desert over a swamp any day of the week.”

“Slugs?”

“Slugs,” he agreed and shuddered. “At least sand doesn’t bite you.”

“Yes, but it gets in places that require a water shower to get out,” Talon muttered from across them, and Ahsoka laughed sharply. “It’s awful.”

“Fortunately, we have to wear boots,” she said and grinned when Talon smiled briefly. “Or not, depending on the situation. Because being knee-deep in a swamp wearing boots is just disgusting.”

“Being barefoot and knee-deep in a swamp is worse,” Master Tapal said as he passed the datapad back to Cal. “I’ve signed off on everything. You can go down to the docking bay to greet the Luminary and her party when they arrive. Stop by our quarters and retrieve our bags. We’ll be leaving as soon as I finish turning command over to General Frantar.”

“Yes, sir,” Cal said and tucked the datapad back into the table where it belonged.

“How long have you worked on the bridge?” Talon questioned.

“Since the day after I became Master Tapal’s padawan,” Cal said. “He warned me in advance if I accepted his offer that he would expect me to serve as an officer on the bridge. I was educated at the academy for it, at any rate, because while I’m mechanically inclined, my test results regarding critical thinking, politics, and military strategy were better.”

“I have standard technical skills,” Ahsoka said. “And I scored best in military strategy and combat engineering.”

An incoming comm hit the table, and he activated his communicator. “Captain Dritus, is there a problem?”

“No, problem, but the little miss would like to meet the general taking General Tapal’s place on the ship while she’s on Coruscant. General Kenobi wanted to let you know he’d be bringing her party up to the bridge for that meeting.”

“Thank you,” Cal said, and Greez ended the transmission. “General Tapal.” He paused until his master returned to him. “The Luminary wishes to be introduced to General Frantar before she goes to Coruscant. General Kenobi will be escorting her and her party to the bridge upon their arrival. Did you still want me to go down to meet them?”

“No, you can stay on station until their meeting is over. Jos, I need your attention for a moment.”

General Frantar left the command bay and joined them. “Sir.”

“The Luminary is requesting to meet with you before she leaves the defense of her world in your hands. You must tread very carefully with her. She is a powerful Dathomiri witch and was made the leader of her entire world because of her magickal power just a few weeks ago.” Jos Frantar blinked in shock. “She’s not a politician as a result and won’t be pacified by protocols. The Luminary is intuitive, gifted by the Force with Force abilities that rival Master Yoda’s, and she’s just fourteen standard years old.”

Jos Frantar stared in surprise. “Sir.” She cleared her throat. “Is she a Zabrak? She must be tiny.”

“Yes,” Master Tapal said. “Five inches shorter than Cal. She is, frankly, the smallest and youngest female Zabrak I’ve ever seen. There’s a reason why precious few of them have ever trained as Jedi. They’re protected and often hidden away from the rest of the galaxy. The Dathomiri are especially militant about the protection of their female children since they are matriarchal society, as you know.

“The Luminary is traveling to Coruscant to meet with Chancellor Organa on the matter of Dathomir joining the Republic.” He paused. “She’s seeking protection from the Separatists who are threatening her world, and she’s had visions of a genocide on Dathomir if they receive no aid.”

Jos nodded. “It won’t be the first time I’ve met a child queen. I served on Naboo for many years, as you know.”

“If she offers to touch you….” Master Tapal trailed off. “I can’t demand it of you, but she would be offended if you refused her hand.”

“I would never be so rude,” Jos said. “And I have nothing to fear from such an act, Jaro. I am fully in the light.” She paused. “Is she?”

“Yes,” Master Tapal assured. “Almost to the point that she is difficult to look at it. She created and wields a weapon made entirely out of midi-chlorians.”

“Fascinating,” General Frantar murmured.

Cal found that interesting since he’d rather look at Merrin than anywhere else in the whole galaxy. He focused on his holotable with heated cheeks as if he’d broadcast the thought when he wasn’t capable of such a thing currently. “The Stinger Mantis is asking to dock, General Tapal. Security has confirmed the ship’s identity.”

“Docking approved,” Master Tapal said and inclined his head toward Master Frantar. “Jos, join me in my office. Commander Kestis, you have the bridge.”

“Yes, sir.” Cal noted that Talon Knof very briefly looked appalled, but Ahsoka just trotted back down into the command bay and returned to her station. “You’ve been padawan for about six months, right?”

“Yes, six months as of two days ago. How did you know that?” Talon questioned.

“I attended the ceremony where Master Frantar knighted her last padawan with Master Tapal, and she mentioned that she’d already chosen another. Her former padawan, Jedi Knight Hale Norn, works in the temple on Coruscant. Though her exact assignment is classified.”

Talon nodded. “The Bright Vigil is an emergency medical ship. We’re deployed after combat zones are secured to render aid and evacuate the injured to Republic-held worlds for extended treatment.”

“The Albedo Brave is a capital ship and attack cruiser. It’s our job to defend and secure territory of the Galactic Republic. Our mission in this system is a political one, but the potential for combat is high.” He paused. “If you’re worried you’ll be placed in my position, you needn’t. General Tapal already told Marshall Commander Meza that he’ll be General Frantar’s executive officer while we’re gone.”

Talon’s shoulders relaxed. “I’m not suited to such tasks. I could do them, but it wouldn’t be intuitive. You clearly think like a…soldier.”

Cal figured he should be insulted by that, but he wasn’t. He just nodded as Jon Meza joined them. “Commander Meza, the Mantis has docked, and General Kenobi is bringing our guests up to the bridge. Master Cordova is transferring to the Bright Vigil with General Skywalker for a security sweep. Father Aaren is accompanying General Kenobi’s party. Let’s make sure security gives him the physical distance he prefers, as previously ordered. If he were to come to harm out of ignorance on this ship, it would derail the Republic’s conversations with the Luminary.”

“Understood, Commander.”

Talon stayed quiet until Commander Meza walked to the front of the ship. “It doesn’t bother you? That you work in circumstances so contrary to the Jedi way?”

“The Jedi are pledged to defend the Republic,” Cal said easily. “We are, at our core, peacekeepers. In these circumstances, the only way we can defend the Republic and the citizens entrusted in our care is to wage war. Many believe the Separatists are rebelling against the Republic, but it’s not true. They’re attacking, dominating, and forcing worlds within the Republic to join them in an effort to build their own empire. What kind of Jedi would I be if I sat back and watched others suffer? Call me a soldier if you wish. It’s not an insult. Some of the best people I know are soldiers.”

“Well said,” Master Kenobi said, and they both turned to stare at him. “Is General Tapal in his office?”

“Yes, sir, with General Frantar,” Cal said. “This is Jedi Commander Talon Knof, padawan of General Jos Frantar.”

Merrin glanced between them before she moved to his side. “Is there something wrong with being a warrior? All the males and most of the females on my world are considered such.”

“It’s about perspective. Talon, this is the Luminary of Dathomir,” Cal said.

Merrin nodded in greeting and drifted so close to Cal that the flowing white robe she was wearing brushed against his uniform.

“It’s a pleasure, Luminary,” Talon said and glanced toward the other adults.

Cal noted that Cere had walked down into the command bay to speak with Ahsoka, and Father Aaren had resumed the position of sentry to his right. “Did Senator Amidala go to the Bright Vigil?”

“Yes,” Merrin said. “Captain Dritus will come back to get us shortly. I’ve asked him to travel docked in the new ship and be my transport back to Dathomir.”

“General Frantar is a Lasat female and is roughly the same size as General Tapal,” Cal said as he focused on Merrin, and she nodded. “She was Master Tapal’s first padawan and has been a Jedi Master for thirty years. She spent her knighthood traveling the galaxy researching ancient Jedi tombs much like Master Cordova does now.”

“Okay,” Merrin said. “Maybe she’ll want to explore the big temple down on Dathomir. I can send a message to Mother Kagan securing that permission if Master Frantar wishes.”

“I’m sure Jos would be thrilled to crawl around in an old temple for ages,” Master Tapal said as he reentered the bridge with his former padawan. “Jos Frantar, please meet the Luminary of Dathomir.”

Merrin stepped forward with no hesitation as Master Frantar took a knee in front of her. “I’ve been assured I’ll get a little taller. I have no hopes of your lofty circumstances, however.”

Master Frantar laughed and took the hand Merrin offered gently in her own. “I’m pleased to meet you, Luminary.”

“You can call me Merrin,” she said and tilted her head. “You’re a scholar, but you serve in the military.”

“I do my duty to the Republic,” Master Frantar said. “I’ve been fortunate in my tenure in the Grand Army of the Republic to lead a small fleet of ships assigned to medical and philanthropic missions. I’ve also helped to evacuate people from planets under siege by the Confederacy of Independent Systems. In that vein, I must ask you a question. If I’m forced to retreat from Dathomir with refugees, who would you wish me to focus my efforts on when it comes to evacuation?”

Merrin took a deep breath. “My Council will gather the vulnerable, the children and pregnant, for you and give you a location in order to retrieve them. There are just 1785 individuals on Dathomir under the age of sixteen. We are preparing our clans for an incursion just in case the Albedo Brave is destroyed or overrun. I would ask you to retrieve the refugees and leave before you allow this ship to be destroyed. All of them should be taken to Coruscant and given over to the Jedi Council for their own safety.”

“All of the children on Dathomir are Force-sensitive?” Master Frantar questioned.

“Every single individual born on Dathomir, no matter their species, is profoundly invested in the magick of our world,” Merrin said as Master Frantar released her hand. “Precious few have migrated to our world in the past fifty years, and those that did were Force-positive. Most believe Dathomir is a dark Force vergence because of the Nightsisters’ infamy. But it’s not true. Most of the magick on Dathomir balances on a knife’s edge—neither light nor dark but bent to the will of the user. There is nothing in the dark that I can’t conceive of in the light.”

“General Tapal told me that you created your weapon out of Dathomir’s magick.”

Merrin’s knife appeared in her hand. The knife blade shifted and turned into a staff an exact fit for her size. Cal wondered if she’d influenced the size change or if the weapon itself had adjusted. Dark green ichor flowed the length of the weapon as she offered it to Master Frantar. Cal watched silently as the Jedi Master took the weapon in hand in much the same way Master Tapal had. But she held it with a quiet kind of reverence that was stunning.

“Your craft is beautiful, Merrin,” Master Frantar said. “I am honored with your trust.” The staff shifted and returned to a knife shape even as she held it. “I’m fascinated by your world in a way I didn’t know I was capable of at my age.”

“I like to learn new things,” Merrin said. “But I don’t get to explore much anymore without someone losing their minds. I got the worst lecture last week for taking a walk by myself.”

Father Aaren cleared his throat.

“And maybe I took a little ride on Gorgara,” Merrin said and shrugged. “But she offered, and it was fun.”

“What is Gorgara?” Cal asked curiously as Master Frantar returned Merrin’s weapon to her and stood.

Merrin made a face but then shrugged. “The matriarch of the chirodactyl colony near the Nightbrother’s settlement.”

“Aren’t those things…giant man-eating bats?” Cal questioned.

Merrin smiled. “We made friends.”

BD-1 helpfully projected an image of the creature from his perch on the holotable, and everyone stared at it.

“Force preserve me,” Cal muttered under his breath, and Father Aaren grunted in what sounded like total agreement. Or at least Cal was going to take it as such.

He was so relieved to be dismissed from duty that Cal barely refrained from running off the bridge and into the lift. Masters Kenobi and Junda, and Ahsoka left the lift on the floor leading to the guest quarters, but Merrin and Father Aaren stayed with him and Master Tapal.

She followed him all the way into his bedroom, which was a violation of Master Tapal’s biggest rule. Cal cleared his throat. “Can you stand in the doorway?”

Merrin stopped just short of sitting on his bed and went to stand in the doorway. “Why?”

“I’m not allowed to have…personal visitors in my bedroom until I’m seventeen,” Cal explained. “Master Tapal has exacting expectations regarding my behavior due to the military code of justice we operate under on the ship.”

“Oh, sorry,” she said and rocked a little on her feet as BD-1 ran around the room checking to make sure Cal had all of his stuff in his backpack.

“It’s fine. You didn’t know. I just don’t want to disrespect Master Tapal by ignoring his rules, even in a casual, innocent way.” He glanced toward her and was relieved to note that she didn’t look upset. “Your robe is nice.”

“Thanks,” she said and lifted it up a little to show off a pair of tiny black boots. “I’ve got magickally enforced armor on under it. It’s a full-body suit that Elif made for me. She said I could take a blaster hit or two with no injuries. I asked her to make you a vest and a pair of pants, so I need your measurements. She said she could make something similar to what you wore when you visited.”

“That’d be great,” Cal said. “BD-1, can you send a comm to the surface with all of my measurements for Mother Elif?”

“Yes, of course.” BD-1 trotted out of the room, and Merrin laughed a little.

“What?”

“He’s just adorable,” Merrin said. “We don’t have droids. I’m not opposed to them, of course, we just need to make sure they are respectful regarding our culture and rules. Also, I want to get food synthesizers for each clan for emergency food rations. We hunt and gather our own food normally, so a food synth would just be a safety net.”

“We can send one down from the ship’s stores right now to prepare in case of a siege,” Cal said. “The standard size one for the ship takes a nutrient cartridge that will provide 10,000 meals per cartridge. The cartridges are small, so a case of them contains seventy-five refills.”

“That would be really good, Cal,” Merrin said quietly. “I worry that if we were attacked and we had to retreat into the deeper reaches of the planet to hide…. We wouldn’t be able to hunt for food, and our stores wouldn’t last for more than a week.”

Master Tapal appeared in the hallway behind her. “I’ll see that’s handled before we leave orbit. Merrin, if you would come to my desk, you can send your council a message regarding the delivery, which will be handled by Commander Meza. Unless you prefer that we do it personally?”

“They should get used to your soldiers landing on the planet,” Merrin said. “It would be best if he didn’t wear a helmet so they can see his face.”

“I’ll let him know,” Master Tapal said and walked away.

Cal finished fastening his backpack. “Come on, you can use the holocomm on the desk to send a message down. Seeing the technology now in the privacy of our quarters will be better than seeing it for the first time on Coruscant.”

He took the hand she offered as he approached, and they went into the common area where the desk was. Master Tapal stood, and Merrin hesitated before sitting down in the large chair where Father Aaren gestured.

“You have three options on this terminal—you can record a holo message, an audio-only message, or send a written digital document that you will dictate into the comm,” Father Aaren explained.

“I believe that the audio-only message will be best received at this point,” Merrin said, and he nodded.

“Push this button here, record your message, and press it again to end the recording. Then you’ll press this button here to send it, as we’ve already set up the connection for you.” He paused. “You could also have a conversation with the person manning the comm equipment.”

Merrin shook her head. “Let’s just send a message to start and work our way toward conversations. Mother Kagan tried to draw a circle of protection around the comm building already.”

Father Aaren laughed. “That was merely an act of….”

“Propaganda,” Merrin supplied when he hesitated. “She was trying to create a mystique around the comm equipment to further her anti-technology agenda. She’d be dangerous if she weren’t so simple and transparent.” She pushed the button before he could respond. “Naima, the Republic ship will be sending down a food synthesizer in the care of Commander Meza. Please see that it is taken down to the siege shelter and stored with the supplies that it comes with and ensure that it is secure at all times.” She closed the recording and sent it with a little nod to herself.

“Is it weird?” Cal questioned.

“Bossing around the Mothers?” Merrin questioned, and he nodded with a smile. “You’d think, but I got over that on the second day because they’re all drama mongers, and I don’t have time for that.”

“You’ve got plenty of time,” Father Aaren said. “You’ll live many years to come.”

Merrin scowled suddenly and glared at Cal. “You! That reminds me! Humans live a ridiculously short amount of time, Jedi!”

Cal opened his mouth, then shut it because he didn’t think he should have to apologize for his life span. He literally had no control of it. “I had no say in my species, Spacewitch.”

She huffed and stood. “That’s fine. I asked the Force to make you have my life span and she agreed.”

Cal barely kept his mouth from falling open. “Excuse me?”

“The Force said she’ll make sure that you’ll age like me,” Merrin said slowly, as if he were an idiot, then rolled her eyes. “Which is only fair since I shouldn’t have to suffer all of this nonsense for decades by myself.”

Cal turned to Master Tapal. “I’m going to need to have a really long talk about adult stuff fairly soon, or I might not make it to adulthood.”

Master Tapal sighed.

* * * *

They left their belongings on the Mantis after docking on the Bright Vigil. Cal followed his master to the bridge of the CR90 Corvette. The ship was smaller than the Albedo Brave, so docking the Mantis had been a superior bit of piloting on Greez’s part. Master Tapal had complimented him on the maneuver, much to Greez’s discomfort. It was clear that Greez didn’t get a lot of compliments, and Cal thought that was sad.

The cockpit of the Bright Vigil was small and contained four seats with a narrow observation area. Cal knew already that General Frantar had run her ship from the Operations Forum which was more central to the ship. So, after they’d made contact with the pilots and navigators, they’d walked back through the ship to Operations, and Cal had taken a position at the central holotable.

“Commander Kestis, set the course and send orders to the cockpit,” Master Tapal ordered. Cal input his credentials quickly and then started to work with the map.

Merrin lingered silently at his side as he worked, but she wasn’t the distraction he’d thought she’d be. Ahsoka was on the opposite side of the table, reviewing the crew and starships assigned to the ship. It was clearly not designed or supplied for combat, so he wondered how she felt about it. From the frown on her face, she wasn’t pleased.

“Force help us if we get attacked,” she muttered across from him, and Cal inclined his head in agreement.

“No one knows we’re on board this ship,” Master Tapal said as he joined them at the holotable. “General Kenobi won’t submit the temporary change of command until we’re already on Coruscant as a matter of security. That being said, if this ship were to come under fire, it is your duty, Commander Kestis, to evacuate the Luminary on the Mantis.”

Cal wet his lips and nodded as he focused on the crew manifest. “Yes, Master.”

He didn’t know any of the troopers on board, but the manifest told him that Commander Muar, General Frantar’s XO, was in the cockpit. They’d gotten a brief introduction, and it was a little irritating that Muar hadn’t followed Master Tapal from the cockpit, nor had he indicated a desire for instructions. No trooper on the Albedo Brave would presume to ever be so casual with either of them on duty.

“Problem?” Ahsoka asked.

Cal shook his head.

She smirked at him. “It’s driving me nuts, too.”

“What?” Merrin questioned lowly.

“Each ship has a culture of a sort,” Cal said. “Some are stricter than others. It’s clear that General Frantar runs an efficient ship, but it’s far more casual than I’m used to.”

“Master Skywalker is demanding and exacting when he’s in command on a ship,” Ahsoka said. “There’s comfort to be had in that kind of environment for those of us who are focused on order.”

Cal did find comfort in protocol and in a rigid schedule. He focused on Merrin and found her staring at the holographic document he had open. “Did you want to go back to the Mantis?”

“Father Aaren is meditating, and Master Junda is studying a document with Master Cordova,” Merrin said. “I wouldn’t wish to disturb them. Father Aaren will have a very stressful situation on Coruscant to deal with, so he certainly needs all the peace he can gather for himself before we arrive. Do you know how this ship works?”

Cal considered how to answer that question. “Do you mean the crew or the actual ship?”

“Both,” Merrin said with a shrug.

“As Master Tapal’s executive officer, I’m required to be able to board any ship in the Grand Republic Army or Navy and attend my duties as assigned. He expects me to be able to orient myself to my role within thirty minutes of boarding a new vessel unless otherwise ordered. If we were going to be here for longer than a day, I would make sure to meet the trooper officer corps and learn their names. As is, I know the ship itself and could direct troops based on the crew manifest, but I don’t know the crew as I would like if we ended up in a combat situation.”

“And these troopers, who don’t know you, would follow your orders?”

“Refusal to follow my orders would be considered insubordination and result in a court-martial. That’s a military tribunal where they would be punished and removed from service for violating military law,” Cal explained. “That being said, I realize my own limitations and would seek advice from the more experienced members of the crew if I were to be left in command on my own. That circumstance is extremely unlikely in our current situation since I could request that any Jedi Master on board the ship take the place of General Tapal if required, including Masters Junda and Cordova.”

Merrin nodded. “I appreciate the redundancy that’s built into the command structure. I need to consider that on Dathomir. The clan representatives are chosen by the clan leaders and their whole purpose is to advise me. But maybe I need to empower them in a limited fashion when I’m not there.” She sucked on her bottom lip, and Cal focused on the holotable to avoid staring at her like an idiot.

“Plus, you’ll have to pick out a senator to represent you,” Ahsoka said from across the holotable. “You’ll want someone who is politically savvy, even-tempered, and not easily manipulated.”

“They also have to be trusted not to work against you,” Cal interjected.

Merrin made a face. “That’s how someone gets tossed off the whole planet, Cal.”

Ahsoka laughed. “Well, one can’t tolerate betrayal.”

“Certainly,” Merrin agreed. “Maybe I’ll task the Council with making a decision regarding a senator for Dathomir. The person will have to live on Coruscant at least some of the time, correct? Perhaps we can rotate on a yearly basis as it would be a sacrifice.”

“Make each clan provide a candidate. Father Aaren can train them to function off world, and your council can create an agenda for your senator to adhere to within the Senate,” Cal suggested, and Merrin nodded. “Senator Amidala will probably be able to give you some structure around this. Naboo has a democratic government, which isn’t something you can mirror since magickal power has so much influence on Dathomir.”

“Does that concern you?”

“No, the Jedi Order works much the same way,” Cal said with a shrug and raised an eyebrow when Ahsoka looked shocked. “I mean, have you ever heard of anyone getting to vote on who joins the Council? The Grand Master is decided by age, power, and experience among the Council themselves. Then, they rule over us and our behavior without any sort of check or balance involved. They decide what we learn, where we go, and how we live. How is that really all that different from a monarchy?”

“Skyguy warned me you were jaded,” Ahsoka said and laughed. “But it’s all true and awful. We should revolt.”

“I’m not allowed to start a civil war,” Cal told her. “Master Tapal was explicit about it since it would ruin his retirement.”

“If you can’t be overt then your only path forward is subversive,” Merrin said and shrugged when they both looked at her in shock. “What? There’s more than one way to get what you want.”

“I adore a bad influence,” Ahsoka announced. “You’re my new best friend.”

Merrin flushed. “I’ve never had a best friend. There are too many power games, even among the children in the Nightsisters clan, to allow for that. Now, I don’t even interact with children my age on Dathomir at all.”

BD-1 left Cal’s back and landed gently on Merrin’s. He rubbed his head against hers, and she laughed.

“Is he too heavy?” Cal questioned.

“Zabraks are strong,” Merrin said. “Even small, female ones.”

Cal had no idea how to get himself out of that hole. So, he just nodded and focused on his work while they both laughed at his very overt retreat. Merrin nudged him a little and shook her head when he glanced her way. Since she appeared more amused than offended, he decided he hadn’t misstepped a lot.

Chapter 17

Father Aaren took a knee in front of Merrin. “There will be hundreds of people in the spaceport. They’ll be moving fast and can be careless. It would be a favor to me if you’d allow me to carry you from the ship to the aircar that’s been sent for us.”

She scowled at him.

“It would also allow me to create an assumption that we are father and child—to hide your identity,” Aaren continued and took a deep breath when she crossed her arms over her chest. “Luminary, you are the only female Zabrak under the age of majority on this entire planet who will be seen in public. Once you’ve appeared in front of the Senate, hiding you will be very difficult. You are the hope and future of Dathomir.”

Merrin turned toward him.

Cal exhaled slowly as he considered how to say what he was thinking. “While it’s illegal on this planet and in the Republic at large, slavers have operated here in the past and probably still do so despite the efforts of the planetary security forces. I can’t imagine how much someone would pay for a beautiful female Zabrak child slave, but it would be a lot. You also look much younger than you are due to your size. A female Human of your age would be at least a full ten inches taller. You’re barely four feet tall, Merrin. They’ll see you as a hard, valuable, and very vulnerable target.” Her eyes widened and dampened with tears.

Cal took a deep breath. “We can make some terrible assumptions about what they’d do with you. Once you’re revealed to the Galactic Senate, you’ll be sought after for vastly different reasons. You’re going to have to swallow your pride repeatedly due to your age and size over the days to come. Any single adult standing around us is liable to pick you right up and cart you off to safety if we’re attacked. If it happens to be Senator Amidala, please don’t fight her. She’s small, too, and would be considered a target as well.”

Merrin pulled up her hood with trembling hands and fastened her cloak. “Okay.”

Father Aaren picked her up, and she gamely wrapped her arms around his neck. “We’ll separate from the group to further the illusion that I’m traveling alone with my child.”

“We’ll walk ahead,” Master Kenobi said. “Master Tapal and his party will walk behind you.” He turned to Cal. “Can you track your droid?”

“No, but he can track me,” Cal said and nodded as he understood what was being asked. “BD-1, if Father Aaren has to retreat with Merrin, you’ll follow them and help them meet up with me and Master Tapal if he can’t make it to the temple.”

“Understood,” BD-1 said from his place on Cal’s shoulder.

Cal turned to Greez. “You’ll stay close?”

“I’ve got a twenty-four docking assignment and an orbital slot reserved after that,” Greez said. “Sally will monitor the comms, so just let her know if you need me. I’m running a random identity code and a scrambler, so I can pick you up from anywhere on top. Just get high for me, kid, and you’re gold.” He shrugged at the looks he got. “That goes for the rest of you as well.” He eyed Senator Amidala. “You, too, Fancy Senator. You can get my code from Cere.”

Senator Amidala turned to her husband with a grin as Greez walked away. “Captain Dritus thinks I’m fancy.”

“We all think you’re fancy,” Master Cordova said wryly, and she laughed.

Cal turned to Cere. “Are you coming as well? You didn’t say.”

“I have to meet Trilla for her trial prep, and Eno will be joining me. She’ll be thrilled to see him since it’s been a while. We’ll be close by if either of you need us,” Cere said, and she focused on Merrin. “I’ve already informed the Council that I’ve agreed to be your mentor as part of the Republic’s agreement with Dathomir. Grand Master Yoda has approved the relationship but has decided that you can’t be known as a padawan.”

Merrin nodded. “I suspected as much, and I agree that it wouldn’t be…appropriate. I can’t undertake the duties of a padawan.”

The spaceport was busy, but less intimidating than the last time he’d come to Coruscant, which he could only be grateful for. There were two aircars waiting for them. Master Windu was standing with his padawan as they approached. The two split off and got into driver seats as Master Tapal opened the back door. Father Aaren tucked Merrin into the backseat and walked around the aircar to get it on the other side. Cal slipped into the car beside her, and Master Tapal got in the front passenger seat. The other car was already departing when Master Windu put the car in motion.

Merrin took his hand, and he offered her a smile. “What’s next?”

“We’ll be taken to the temple. Due to my kidnapping, security in the front of the building is intense. Master Windu, who is driving, will take us to an underground parking garage, and we’ll enter the temple through a private, guarded entrance.”

“To ensure your safety, you and Father Aaren will be staying in my apartment,” Master Tapal said. “You’ll have your own bedroom. We’ll discuss the rules for this arrangement later. Cal and I will probably be required to meet with the Council this evening. I don’t know if that will happen before or after your introduction. Tomorrow morning, we’ll contact the chancellor’s office regarding an appointment, and he’ll be invited to the temple to meet you. For your own safety, you won’t leave the temple until you’re required to appear before the Senate.”

“Okay,” Merrin said quietly, and her fingers clenched against his.

“It’ll be fine, Spacewitch,” Cal murmured, and she nodded.

BD-1 settled in her lap. “I’ll keep you company.”

Merrin smiled and patted the droid gently. “Thank you, BD.”

The trip through the temple was silent as Merrin pulled her hood up and his hand clutched in hers. Senator Amidala and Master Skywalker were standing outside of their apartment when they turned the corner. They both just smiled and waited while the code was put in. Master Windu left them with a brief nod and a singular glance in Merrin’s direction.

“I wanted to speak with Merrin for a moment,” Senator Amidala said, and Father Aaren just nodded his agreement.

Merrin lowered her hood then shrugged out of her cloak entirely. “Is something wrong?”

“No, I just wanted to tell you something that was told to me the first time I left Naboo,” she said and sat down on the sofa. Merrin joined her with a nod. “I was six months older than you when I came to Coruscant to ask the Republic for help. My world was facing an invasion, much like yours is now. Naboo has been a member of the Republic for many hundreds of years, but the Republic was trying to avoid a war. The politics were much more complicated, but the goal was the same.”

Merrin nodded. “Okay.”

“My mother told me the day I left Naboo that I was the Queen of Naboo and that I owed no one my time. She said I had to present a confident, thoughtful, but powerful persona no matter my circumstances. Though it is not well known as she changed her name again after serving, my own mother served three terms as queen starting at the age of twelve. The best way to be confident is to never, ever argue with someone in public. Merely state your position, and never deflect or defend. You are a queen, Merrin, and never let anyone forget it. Wear the faith you’ve been given by your people like a shield.”

“Thank you,” Merrin said. “I’ll try to remember. But I expect to be very frustrated in the days to come.”

“I’ll stay with you as much as possible throughout this whole process,” Senator Amidala said. “I’ve had several conversations with my queen, and she agrees that Dathomir will be our sister world going forward.” She smiled. “As long as you agree.”

“It’s like I’m choosing to have a bossy older sister,” Merrin admitted as green magick drifted over her skin, and Senator Amidala laughed. “Very well, Naboo and Dathomir shall be sisters.”

Merrin stayed where she was as Senator Amidala and Master Skywalker left their apartment. Cal shifted his backpack on his shoulder and started to speak, but she turned to Father Aaren.

“What’s your real name?” They all three stilled. “I understand why you didn’t speak of this on Dathomir or even on the ship as we traveled. But I’m trusting you with my life, so I’d like to know the name your mother gave you.”

“Eeth Koth,” Aaren said. “But I had to walk away from that life and the family that came with it.”

“Because Master Tapal killed Sheev Palpatine, and you took the blame,” Merrin said and nodded. “Yes, I thought that was your name, but you don’t look the same. I’ve dreamt of that event more than once since you came to Dathomir.”

“My apologies if you feel misled,” Aaren said.

“I don’t,” Merrin said. “You made an immense sacrifice for Master Tapal and Cal. I won’t forget it. The Force tells me that I can trust you with everything, which is the real reason I chose to travel here with just you when the whole council thought they should come.” She folded her hands together on her lap. “I’m tired.”

“Stress can be exhausting,” Aaren said. “Let’s get you settled in the guest room, and you can take a nap if you wish.”

“We’ll probably be called into a Jedi Council meeting,” Cal said when she focused on him. “Master Windu left us as soon as he could, so he’s certainly reporting to them. We’ll be back for dinner.” He urged BD-1 down from his shoulder. “BD, you stay with her. Okay?”

“Okay,” BD-1 said and climbed into her lap.

Cal noted that she plucked up the droid as she stood and carried him with her like a child as Father Aaren led her away. He went to put his bag in his room and just sat down on the bed when Master Tapal entered and shut the door behind him.

“You did very well on the ship,” Master Tapal said. “Her uniqueness would be a very attractive factor for slavers and acquiring her would be worth the risk in their minds. It was a harsh thing to say, but something she needed to know and keep in mind going forward. Of course, they’d have no idea at all what kind of fight they’d be taking on.”

“They’d probably run from her,” Cal said wryly, and his master laughed. “Did you have extra rules to give me?”

“No, but Aaren has some to give her about personal spaces. I trust that you won’t break the rules or act inappropriately.” Master Tapal sat down next to him. “But there are some things we need to discuss. I realize you know very well what kind of relationship you had with her in the other timeline.”

“Well, we were adults,” Cal said. “And yes, I’m aware of the fact that we were together romantically and…sexually. I’ve not had any dreams about that part exactly.”

“What do you mean exactly?” Master Tapal asked.

“Well,” Cal began and exhaled slowly. “I’ve dreamt about her kissing me. It seemed like it might have been our first kiss. And I dreamt about having a conversation with her, and we were in a bed together.” He flushed. “We were talking about the plan to time travel ritual. That’s how I knew I’d sort of traveled through time. I think the Force is sheltering us both regarding certain topics. Though, it’s kind of rude to show me a lot of murder and only one kiss.”

Master Tapal laughed. “Yes, that’s quite rude.” He took a deep breath. “You’re growing up much too fast, Padawan, and we can’t control much of it at all. But please take care with both her and yourself when it comes to the relationship you had in the other timeline and the one you believe you’ll have with her in the future.”

“Oh, Future Me already made her promises, and I think female Zabraks take that kind of thing really seriously,” Cal said. “I can’t blame him for that, really, since he loved her so much that he could hardly stand to be apart from her.”

“Does it help to see him as separately from yourself?”

“Yeah, I think it does. He suffered a lot and lost so much that he clung to the love in his life. Then he sacrificed everything he did have so I could try again to get it right. I won’t be that person he became, and I think he’d be happy about that.”

The front door chime sounded, and they both groaned then exchanged grins.

“Let’s go disappoint the Council,” Cal said and nudged his master. “Then we can figure out what to feed a little queen for dinner.”

“Might want to leave her plate to Aaren.”

“Oh, hey, at least you and Father Aaren don’t have to pretend to be put out about sharing a bed now that Merrin knows the truth.”

“I miss the days when you were intimidated by me,” Master Tapal said, and Cal laughed.

“I was never intimidated by you,” Cal declared and hopped off the bed. “Because I trusted you from the very beginning.”

* * * *

Jaro noted that the carpet was gone as he sat down. A sleek wood floor spread out underneath the Council. Anakin Skywalker was already seated in what amounted to the interrogation chairs. Cal sat down between them and got comfortable. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, so he relaxed and waited for one of the Council to speak.

“Padawan Kestis,” Mace Windu began sternly and paused briefly when Jaro cleared his throat. “Would you please tell us what you did to Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker?”

“Nothing,” Cal said.

“Master Kenobi has reported to the Council that you found some sort of darkness in Jedi Knight Skywalker and removed it,” Mace prodded.

Cal squinted briefly at him. “I don’t think we can discuss this in an open and honest way as long as Master Skywalker is left ignorant of his own circumstances. I’m sure you all have your reasons for denying him the truth and for refusing to allow Master Kenobi to speak of certain events, but it makes discussing his current circumstances extremely difficult. I’m not going to lie to him or you, so at this point, I can say only that I did nothing personally to Master Skywalker.”

Righteous One meet Jedi Council, Jaro thought and barely refrained from saying. Mace looked stunned and confused for several long moments before he cleared his throat and turned to Yoda. “Master Yoda?”

“Burden it is,” Yoda said. “Many burdens Skywalker already has.”

“I’m no longer a child, Master Yoda.”

“Your lack of emotional control says otherwise,” Mace retorted, and Obi-Wan glared at him.

“Passion is for the young,” Cal said, and they all focused on him. “Complacency and the lack of empathy is apparently for the old and tired.”

Jaro averted his gaze and cleared his throat to keep from laughing.

Cal leaned forward. “It’s interesting that you’d condemn him for his natural, Human emotions, Master Windu when you sit there stewing in grief and resentment yourself.” Mace’s mouth dropped open. “I can’t be the only one to feel it because my empathy is actually quite…weak, comparatively speaking.”

“He’s felt that way since Qui-Gon was murdered,” Obi-Wan said, and several people hummed their agreement.

“He blames me for Master Qui-Gon’s death,” Anakin blurted out, and several people gaped at him.

“I do not,” Mace denied. “Why would you….” He closed his eyes briefly. “Anakin, you were a child. I don’t blame you for what happened to Qui-Gon Jinn.”

“You didn’t want me trained.”

“I wanted you returned to your mother!” Mace snapped and sat back in his seat. “Give me a moment.” He cleared his throat and sat forward, hands braced on his knees. “Anakin, do you remember how your mother responded to Qui-Gon?”

“What do you mean?” Anakin questioned. “They were strangers as far as I could tell.”

“He was certainly a stranger to her, but he knew exactly who she was once he knew her name,” Mace said quietly. “What she was.”

“What she was?” Anakin questioned. “She was a slave, Master Windu.”

“She was one of Xanatos’ wives,” Mace said, and even the air in the room grew still. “He had three, though only one was ever widely known. It was also believed by everyone in this room that he’d only fathered one child—Granta Omega. Shmi Skywalker was born on Telos IV, and her marriage to Xanatos was arranged. She disappeared and was believed dead for many years. Qui-Gon found out that she’d actually been placed in cryo-cycle stasis and smuggled off Telos IV by Xanatos. Which wasn’t exactly a surprise since he’d also sent his other wife, Tura Omega, into hiding after the third of his wives was murdered. Qui-Gon searched for Shmi for more than a year before giving up.

“After Xanatos was killed, Shmi was obviously discovered by slavers, though I don’t know where or how, and neither did Qui-Gon. She probably woke from cryo on Tatooine enslaved and pregnant. I imagine she wished to hide who and what she once was out of fear, so she never tried to reach out to her homeworld. Xanatos had been driven insane by the dark side.”

“She said I had no father,” Anakin said. “I suppose that’s better than telling me at the age of five that my father was a dark and irredeemable failed Jedi Padawan who considered mass murder a hobby.” He turned to Cal. “Xanatos was Qui-Gon Jinn’s second apprentice. He fell to the dark side before he could be knighted.”

“There’s nothing of him in you,” Cal said. “Even your mother chose to see you as a gift from the Force rather than from the man she was made to marry.” He turned to Mace. “But I wasn’t actually talking about that. I was going to let the Force tell him all of that stuff in private so he could brood properly, as he’s surely entitled to. If I find out my biological father is a wanna-be Sith Lord, I’m going to riot.”

Jaro sighed. “If your biological father turns out to be a wanna-be Sith Lord, you may riot for exactly one hour.”

“Two hours,” Cal countered.

“One and a half hours,” Jaro said.

“Deal.” Cal exhaled sharply. “Now, can we please talk about how Sheev Palpatine was an actual Sith Lord?” He waved both hands. “I’m getting really tired of the subterfuge. I’m not good at it, and it’s stressing me out. I’ve got a lot to worry about right now, and it would be super helpful if this situation was resolved in a reasonable fashion.”

“Fed up the child is,” Yoda said quietly and nodded. “Very well.” He waved a hand. “Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan Kenobi leaned forward in his chair. “Sheev Palpatine was the Sith Lord, Dooku was his apprentice, and before him Darth Maul was his apprentice. Palpatine planned to murder us all, and there were control chips in the clone troopers’ heads to make sure they couldn’t disobey his orders. He planned to destroy the Republic and build himself an empire on our bones. Cal dreamt about all of this, and we were able to prove it all true.

“Palpatine was killed in this room because he was dark and because he expressed an unsavory interest in Cal. We didn’t know he was a dark bastard until recently. I did try repeatedly to remove you from his influence when you were a padawan but was thwarted by politics and Master Yoda’s desire to see the Jedi Order protected and sheltered by the Republic.”

Anakin nodded slowly and turned to Cal. “I’m just going to tell them.”

“You should,” Cal agreed. “All they can do is throw you out and that will just hurt them in the long run since you really are the actual Chosen One. The Force told me so. Plus, you’re a genuine light Force vergence, like me, and that’s going to be super important to the Order in the future. They’d just be biting off their own noses to spite their faces. At least, those who actually have noses.” He glanced toward his master, and Jaro sent him a dark look even as the boy grinned. “No offense, Master.”

“I married Senator Padmé Amidala two years ago, and we’re expecting twins,” Anakin said, then slouched back in his seat with a proud grin.

“The twins are going to be very powerful,” Cal said. “The Force is really happy about them.”

Yoda glanced between them and focused on Jaro. “Much trouble your padawan is.”

The distinction wasn’t lost on him at all.

“No longer interested in training him?” Jaro questioned wryly, and Yoda made a face and shook his head.

“I personally would riot for a whole damn day if I found out my biological father was a wanna-be Sith Lord,” Mace muttered, and several members of the Council nodded their agreement.

“He’s small,” Jaro said. “And doesn’t need a whole day to wreck any sort of havoc.”

“Now, will you tell us what was done to Anakin?” Mace questioned.

Cal stared at him for a moment. “Will you agree to mind healing to deal with your lingering issues regarding the Force bond you shared with Qui-Gon Jinn?”

Mace’s gaze narrowed. “The Force tells you more than she should.”

“Fairly arrogant to assume you get to decide what the Force should and should not say to anyone,” Cal returned. “Well?”

“Extortion is beneath a Jedi Knight.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for when I’m knighted a full decade from now,” Cal said, and Yoda laughed.

Mace sighed. “Yes, I will seek healing regarding the broken bond that I didn’t want anyone to ever know about. You’re very contrary for a padawan.”

“Well, I’m not really a padawan in this room. I can’t be the Righteous One if I’m under the Council’s authority in circumstances like this,” Cal said. “You can’t have half of me, you know. You have to deal with the whole of me—even the parts that you genuinely don’t like.” Cal sat back in his seat. “Besides, I agreed to take a knee for Jaro Tapal, and you look nothing like him.”

“Retire to a swamp, I will,” Yoda interjected, and they all turned to him. “Eventually.”

Cal turned to him, and Jaro sighed. “I told you he wanted to hunt for his own food.”

Jaro cleared his throat. “Please answer Mace’s question, Padawan.”

“The Force asked me to commune with her and Master Skywalker. She wanted a conduit of sorts since what she wanted to do required more than she could physically accomplish on her own without a great deal of time. It was a process she’d been working on for a while, but she was frustrated by how slow it was going. She feared it would take decades, and the damage would be immense.

“Master Skywalker had a festering emotional wound surrounding the dual loss of his mother—first when he was taken from her as a child and again when she was murdered. Palpatine picked at that wound repeatedly because the Council allowed an outsider unfettered access to a padawan, who should’ve been able to trust you to protect him during the most vulnerable years of his life.

“As it stands, this Council sacrificed him for politics while you sat in judgment of him when he started to falter due to your own lack of care. You set him up to fail for one reason or another, and the Force is furious. Palpatine was so dark that she couldn’t even see him for what he was. She trusts us to act on her behalf and subdue the dark while creating balance for the aspects of her. The Jedi Order has been failing to do this for generations, and she’s growing immensely impatient with all of us. It’s why I exist. It’s why Anakin Skywalker exists. He’s the avatar of the Living Force, and if you were paying attention, you’d know that. Because that’s the role of the Chosen One.”

“Have all of the aspects been given form?” Obi-Wan asked, and Jaro’s gut clenched.

“Yes,” Cal said.

“And you’re the avatar of the Unifying Force,” Mace Windu said. “The girl—the Luminary?”

“She’s the Physical Force,” Cal said.

“And the Cosmic Force?” Jaro questioned.

“His name is Grogu, and he’s down in the crèche,” Cal said simply. “He’s of Master Yoda’s species. A genuine child of the Force. But Master Yoda already knew about him.”’

“I did,” Yoda agreed.

“All four of us survived Palpatine’s purge in my nightmare, but none of us reached our true potential because of him,” Cal said. “Grogu suffered a lot—he was smuggled off of Coruscant, but he ended up sold when the Jedi protecting him was killed. The person who bought him treated him like a pet and kept him in a cage. But the Empire was looking for him because Palpatine knew about Grogu and feared his power. I don’t know how long he’d have survived on his own since he was still a child and would remain one for decades. He’s not safe here on Coruscant and shouldn’t stay.”

“We’ve discussed it and would like to move the main campus of the Jedi Academy and the crèche to Dathomir,” Adi Gallia said. “It’ll be our biggest educational center, and we believe it will prove to the Luminary that we’re serious about our alliance with her people.”

“Did you want to meet her now?” Jaro questioned. “She professed to be tired and the arrival on the planet was stressful for her. It’s the first time she’s ever been off of her world.” He paused. “I must speak frankly about her.” He glanced toward Cal, who nodded.

“Please do,” Mace said.

“The Luminary is a sheltered. She’s innocent in ways I did not expect, but I have to remind myself repeatedly that up until a month ago, she was just a child being raised in a clan crèche with no responsibilities. She’s small, very powerful, and compelling. And while she’s innocent, in many ways, she is wise and knows she has something very valuable to offer the Republic. She’s willing to sacrifice the material wealth of her world to protect her people. I don’t think the resources she has at her disposal mean much, if anything, to her people since they’re all very invested in their relationship with the Force no matter what it is—light, grey, or dark.”

“How did the planet feel to you?” Kit Fisto questioned. “I visited a decade ago, and it was teetering on the edge of becoming a dark Force vergence.”

“It was very uncomfortable to visit for me just two years ago,” Obi-Wan admitted. “But it was lovely this time.”

“It feels feral to me,” Jaro said. “Wild, fierce, immense, but not explicitly dark. There are dark Force users on the planet, but they lack the greed and cruelty of the Sith. I think they embrace the necro-elements of the Force that we avoid, and it feels dark as a result.”

“It would certainly explain Darth Maul’s survival,” Obi-Wan muttered.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Mace demanded and stood. “What?”

“Darth Maul is alive.” Obi-Wan huffed and slouched in his chair. “I still maintain if you cut someone in half, you should be confident in the fact that they’re going to stay dead.”

Jaro cleared his throat as Mace slowly sat back down. “Savage Opress, Maul’s brother, brought the parts back to Dathomir. Their mother, Talzin, put him back together in a dark magick ritual that involved sacrificing the life energy of others and some of her own. He’s now Dooku’s apprentice.”

“Son of a bitch,” Mace muttered.

“Crass but accurate,” Cal retorted. “Talzin tried to murder the Luminary and was torn to pieces by the Nightsisters. The Luminary was forced to kill Savage Opress when he attacked her during the altercation. Feral, the youngest of Talzin’s children, is in the Nightbrother’s clan and has been determined to not be a threat.”

“Can we trust that?” Mace questioned.

“Yes,” Jaro said. “The Dathomiri are deeply invested in their little Luminary. He’d be dead if they had a single concern about his motivations.”

“Meet the Luminary tomorrow, we shall,” Yoda decided.

“Maybe instead of meeting in here, we could have lunch or something,” Cal said, and they all stared at him. “It doesn’t need to be a formal discussion the first time around, and she’ll probably be more at ease with a social situation. Our relationship with Dathomir must be more than a political alliance if we want to survive as an order.”

Jaro nodded. “I agree. Her circumstances on Dathomir are communal and she’s probably used to a certain level of socialization around meals. She’ll appreciate the effort, and she’ll expect Senator Amidala to attend as well.”

The whole Council sent Anakin a series of looks. Some were more amused than others.

Jaro sighed. “Let’s discuss that. Obi-Wan?”

“It’s not a violation of the founding principles of the Jedi Order to marry and have children,” Obi-Wan said and spread his hands out in a gesture of peace when more than one Council member made noises. “Our current tenets are restrictive and cruel. Many of our members leave service early because of desires and biological drives that they literally cannot control. We lose out repeatedly because of it. It’s not fair nor ethical to demand so much from the Jedi that serves the Force.

“I’m prepared to give my all for the Jedi Order and the Republic, yet I don’t feel as if I have the right to have a single damned thing for myself,” Obi-Wan confessed hoarsely. “And sometimes, it’s hard to find a reason to keep going. It’s hard to live my life without love. Most Humans aren’t meant to live like this, Yoda. We’re just not.”

“Well, I love you,” Anakin muttered. “It that counts at all.”

Obi-Wan smiled briefly. “It matters, of course, and you know it. But it isn’t the same and I’m not alone in how bone-deep lonely I am on a regular basis. Sometimes, I think we deny ourselves so much that it makes the dark side even more attractive.”

“Because there appears to be nothing denied in that life,” Jaro surmised, and Obi-Wan nodded.

“Does the Force have a plan for avatars of the aspects?” Agen Kolar questioned. “Are we supposed to do something specific?”

“If the Force wants something from you, she’ll definitely let you know,” Cal said huffily. “Trust me, she can be really stubborn about getting her way.”

Jaro watched the room adjust to the slight shift in topic.

“The central reason the current tenets discourage personal relationships is the fear that attachments are the path to the dark side,” Cal said. “That’s an impossible path for Master Skywalker to walk as he’s become a light Force vergence, like all of the other avatars. He was always meant to be one, but you didn’t protect him as you should have. Going forward, the Force won’t make the same mistake again and has built-in protections that prevent the dark side from touching the avatars.”

“Yes, but can we trust he’ll put duty before his wife and children?” Mace questioned.

“In order to be cleansed, I had to agree to accept the new burden of my circumstances,” Anakin said. “The Force doesn’t tolerate betrayal, Master Windu. I promised to be faithful to my duty for the rest of my life in order to keep my family safe. I won’t be the instrument of their destruction, and that was the road I was on. Cal clearly blames you all for what Palpatine did, but I believe my own weakness gave the dark side purchase inside of me.”

“Anakin, you were a child younger than Cal is now when it all began. How can you look at him and accept any sort of blame for that?” Jaro questioned. “Would you blame him if your circumstances were reversed?”

“No, I wouldn’t,” Anakin admitted. “But I made a host of mistakes. Part of me regrets agreeing to leave Tatooine with Qui-Gon. More than ever, I feel as if I owe my mother more than I ever had the opportunity to give her. I wish she was alive and safe. I wish I could’ve taken her with me, even if it meant never training as a Jedi. She was tortured to death and died a slave. While no one deserves such a fate, she never hurt a single person in her life and deserved better.

“But I can’t go back and do it differently. I can’t save her. What I can do is protect the Republic, honor my wife, shield my children from the worst this galaxy has to give, and live the most ethical life I can.” He waved a hand. “As soon as I have my personal riot over my wanna-be Sith Lord biological father.”

“Two hours,” Obi-Wan said. “No more.” He paused. “Unless you want to find a slave syndicate and pick a fight. Then you can riot amongst them as long as you want.”

“Come to that riot, I will,” Yoda decided and managed to look serene despite the looks of shock he got. “BD-1’s location?”

“He’s in our apartment,” Cal said and sent him a narrowed-eyed look. Then he pulled a piece of candy out of his pocket and tossed it across the space.

Yoda pulled it to him with a pleased hum, then unwrapped it as soon as he caught it.

* * * *

Merrin had a datapad in her hand when they came back into the apartment. She was curled up in the corner of the sofa, dressed in a knee-length white tunic and black leggings. Her feet were bare. Cal stared for a moment because there were dark grey markings on her feet, much like on her face and hands. Some of her toes were encircled entirely with little dark grey rings, and it was fascinating.

Master Tapal cleared his throat, and she looked up as Cal focused on her face. Merrin smiled.

“Did you have a good nap?” Cal questioned.

“Yes, Father Aaren brought me this device. I’ve been reading about the Senate rules.” She put the datapad aside. “He also put a tracking device on me like yours, and BD-1 has the code.” The thin silver device slid down her ankle as she stood and showed him her foot. “BD-1 said you put the device on your ankle, so I did the same.”

Cal nodded and cleared his throat. “Hungry?”

“Yes,” she said and picked up her datapad. “I’ll just put this away.”

He watched her leave, then turned to Master Tapal.

“Yes,” Master Tapal said before he could ask. “Zabraks have those skin markings everywhere.”

Cal was very certain that he didn’t need to know that. “I’m going to my room.”

Father Aaren, who was seated on the meditation mat, laughed.

“Dinner in fifteen minutes,” Master Tapal said.

“Yes, sir.”

Cal pulled out a tunic and trousers to change into, then went into the refresher to take a quick sonic shower. Once dressed again, he pulled on a pair of socks in the hopes of modeling the behavior for Merrin. He didn’t know how he was going to concentrate if she ran around barefooted. It was a weird thought because it wasn’t her fault that her feet were distracting. After putting his uniform through the cleaner, he folded it and put it away, then went to face the dinner table.

Merrin was already seated, and he didn’t dare look at her feet as he joined everyone at the table. His plate was already on the table, and he picked up the milk to drink before checking out what she had to eat and drink. Proportionally, she had more meat than vegetables than he did, but about the same amount of food in total. He made a mental note to look up nutritional requirements for Zabraks as he had no real clue.

BD-1 climbed up his side and perched on the back of his chair.

“How did the meeting go?” Merrin questioned.

“The Jedi Council has interesting motives,” Cal said. “They seek to control things that really can’t be controlled, then they get surprised when something doesn’t go their way. It’s because their focus is so narrow.”

“You must be giving them fits,” Aaren said with a grin.

“I extorted Master Windu into mind healing,” Cal said and shrugged when Aaren raised an eyebrow. “He needs it. They all need to focus on the right things, and it’s frustrating that I have to point that out to them. They probably all think I’m a disrespectful brat.”

“You amuse most of them to an inappropriate degree,” Master Tapal corrected. “Though I probably shouldn’t have told you that. Only Yoda is so old that he’s forgotten what it’s like to be a padawan. They’re probably also very jealous that they could’ve never gotten away with the things you get away with saying.”

“I’m pretty sure that most of my council thinks I’m a brat,” Merrin said. “Kagan especially since she expected her blood relationship with me to matter to me when it never mattered to her.”

“She certainly regrets that choice now,” Father Aaren said. “And knows that she can’t walk it back at this point. Though she did believe, in the beginning, that she could manipulate you into being a part of her family.”

Merrin nodded and focused on her food. “Yes, she did.” She stabbed a piece of meat. “She also tried to tell me that I would be part of the breeding scheme the Nightsisters have been engaging in for generations.”

“Breeding scheme?” Cal said. “What?”

“The Nightsisters, in the past, tried to breed especially powerful female children. Males who fathered powerful daughters were treated very well, and they were…passed around amongst the strongest and most powerful females in the clan. They keep careful records to prevent issues with inbreeding. I was created in this way, and Talzin removed me from the breeding program after she sacrificed my mother. I don’t know why exactly, and I never cared. Kagan tried to put me back in the program and presented me with the profiles of the males that I would be…encouraged to breed with when I come of age. Some of them are three times my age.”

“Encouraged sounds more like required,” Cal said. “It seems like an unethical situation.”

“I outlawed the whole thing,” Merrin retorted. “Talzin didn’t even allow mate bonds, Cal. The fathers had no rights to their own children. It was disgusting, and many of the males born in the Nightsisters clan eventually migrated to other clans and avoided the Nightbrothers altogether.”

“That was allowed?” Cal questioned.

“It wasn’t actual slavery as defined by Republic law,” Merrin said in amusement. “Just a subservient system for a breeding initiative, and some Nightbrothers chose to be celibate as part of their spiritual existence. There was nothing forced on them, but the lack of parental rights bothered many. My biological father never set eyes on me.”

“You mentioned having half-brothers and sisters. How many siblings do you have?”

“Three sisters and one brother that I’m aware of,” Merrin said and shrugged. “They never had time for me until recently, so I’ve not allowed them near me. I won’t be used to further anyone.”

“It’s good to be cautious,” Master Tapal said. “But it might be wise to be open to the fact that people change and that the Nightsisters and Nightbrothers appeared to live under a very heavy hand before Mother Talzin was killed. Now, they have new circumstances and can explore intrinsic desires. Zabraks on other worlds live in large, affectionate family units.”

Merrin nodded. “I’ll think about it. I’ve been very standoffish, but things were really harsh after I woke up from the first dream. I was radiating with power like they’d never seen before and Talzin was furious that I overtly outranked her by just existing.”

“It must have been scary,” Cal said.

“Yes,” Merrin admitted. “But things got better after she was killed. I don’t know if I should feel guilty or not that she got killed trying to murder me. It seems like I should’ve been able to say something to her that would correct her path.”

“We can’t save everyone from their mistakes,” Cal said. “I know it’s tempting to try because of all the horrible things we dreamt about. Talzin was on her dark path before you were born, Merrin.”

“Is that how you feel about Bode Akuna?” Merrin challenged.

“I have no choice but to accept that I couldn’t save him from the dark side,” Cal said. “The ramifications are daunting because we know that our actions have immense consequences. By killing him, I’ve changed the lives of everyone around him. I’ve changed the lives of people that he hadn’t met yet. I prevented…the birth of his child.”

“Maybe she’ll be born to better circumstances,” Merrin said. “And to a father that won’t sink so deep into the dark that he can’t be reasoned with.”

Chapter 18

Cal resisted the urge to leave his master’s side as they entered the reception hall deep in the temple that had been chosen for the meeting. There was a table set up for the meal and Suo Greta was directing several other padawans in setting up the table. It felt weird and unnatural not to join them in their task. The table was round, and the Council was lingering together in a little semi-circle, much like they always did when they were in a room together.

Merrin’s hand slipped against his, and he laced their fingers together. Her eyes were a little wide and magick was shimmering on her skin when he focused on her. Cal came to a stop, and Master Tapal stopped with him. Father Aaren took a knee beside her.

“Is something amiss, Luminary?”

Merrin shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. There’s just a lot of power in the room, and I wasn’t prepared for it. It’s like the Force is pooling around me. It’s different on Dathomir—it moves like a river there.”

Father Aaren nodded. “Yes, I see what you mean. Do we need to take things a little more slowly? Would individual introductions be better?”

“I don’t want to appear weak,” she whispered, and her cheeks darkened. “Also, I don’t want to touch any of them. Will they be offended?”

“No, due to your position, most will assume that you’d not offer to touch them,” Father Aaren said. “As Senator Amidala said, you are a queen. You can wear your position like a shield in situations like this.”

“Okay,” Merrin said and turned to Cal. “I wish to meet Master Yoda first.”

“Very well,” Master Tapal said. “Let us know if you get uncomfortable with the pooling of power.”

Merrin nodded and kept Cal’s hand as they walked across the room. Since she was focused on Master Yoda, everyone stilled around them, and he stepped forward.

“Grand Master Yoda, please meet the Luminary of Dathomir,” Master Tapal said, and Master Yoda inclined his head as he stared at her.

Merrin stared back, and ichor shimmered over her skin. Her fingers clenched against his, and she nodded.

“I’m pleased to meet you, Master Yoda,” Merrin said.

Yoda smiled. “Honored, I am.” Force energy slowly slid down his gimer stick.

She stared at the stick. “Is it a weapon?”

“Can be,” Yoda said. “Carry a lightsaber, I do.” He offered her the stick.

Merrin released Cal’s hand and took the gimer stick in hand. Ichor drifted over the wood as she studied it. “It feels alive as if it were never taken from the plant where it grew. Plants and trees on Dathomir feel like this. We make sure to burn only truly dead wood for heat when required.”

“The gimer bush is rich with nutrients, and the sap is a natural anesthetic,” Father Aaren supplied as Merrin studied the stick. “They grow on Kashyyyk and Dagobah.”

Merrin nodded. “It feels as if it has healing properties.” She handed the gimer stick back to Master Yoda carefully. “Thank you.” She turned to Father Aaren. “Could I have a gimer bush for my garden? I’d like to watch one grow.”

“I’ll arrange it,” Father Aaren said. “The conditions in your garden will be similar to Dagobah, so it should grow well.”

Merrin reached out for Cal, and he took the hand she offered.

“Master Mace Windu is the Master of the Order,” Master Tapal said. “His duties are largely administrative.”

“I loathe administrative work,” Merrin said, and Master Windu smiled at her grandly. “It’s awful. Did you volunteer for this job, or do they make you do it?”

“I was elected within the Council,” Master Windu said. “Against my will.”

Merrin nodded. “They didn’t even ask me.”

“Same,” Master Windu said wryly, and Merrin laughed.

Master Tapal guided them toward the main grouping of the Council. “The Jedi High Council has five permanent life-long positions. Masters Yoda and Windu hold two of those positions. Masters Shaak Ti, Plo Koon, and Even Piell hold the other three positions.” Each master offered her a short bow as their names were spoken. “The other positions are transitory depending on our circumstances within the Republic, especially since we’re at war as the Council members are also High Jedi Generals in the Grand Republic Army. You’ve met Master Kenobi, who ranks highest amongst us in the GAR.

“Each member of the Council works to enrich and secure the Jedi Order and our members,” Master Tapal said. “Masters Ki-Adi-Mundi, Saesee Tiin, Kit Fisto, Oppo Rancisis, Adi Gallia, and Agen Kolar, please meet the Luminary of the Dathomir.”

Master Agen Kolar’s nostrils flared slightly as they were all introduced, and he frowned at Father Aaren. “Do you believe it wise to allow her to leave Dathomir in a time like this at her age?”

“I don’t answer to him,” Merrin said, and Master Kolar focused on her. “He answers to me, and if you are to be a citizen of Dathomir, you will, too.” She waved a hand. “My age is irrelevant.”

Master Kolar inclined his head at the rebuke, but it was clear he didn’t agree. Cal shifted closer to her, and Merrin responded by doing the same. Ichor flowed around them, and several members of the Council made startled noises.

“The Luminary decides where she will go, and it is my honor to make sure she is safe to do so,” Father Aaren said.

“For now, I’d be content to go to the table and be fed,” Merrin interjected, and several people laughed.

The doors opened in the back of the room, and Master Tapal moved between the two of them briefly before moving away as Senator Amidala entered with Master Skywalker. The doors were shut and locked behind them. Merrin released Cal’s hand as they approached and offered both of her hands to Senator Amidala, who took them immediately.

“Did you sleep well?” Senator Amidala asked.

“As well as I could,” Merrin said. “This planet feels false and weird.”

Senator Amidala nodded. “Those of us raised around abundant natural environments find worlds like Coruscant difficult to adjust to. I try to go home often as a result.”

Merrin nodded and just smiled when the Senator kept one of her hands and led her toward the table. She looked his way, and Cal nodded as he followed. The bench seats at the table were wide and tall in deference to the various sizes of individuals on the Council. He noted that Master Yoda had hopped right up into a chair designed especially for him across from them at the oval table.

She frowned at the bench as she clearly didn’t want to climb up onto it, and he figured she probably didn’t want to ask an adult to pick her up and put her on the bench, either. He took her hand and guided her around the side of the seat.

“There’s a step here. The room is meant for adults and designed to make sure individuals of Master Tapal’s size don’t end up hitting the table with their legs, so it has a lower floor under it as well. But there are accommodations for smaller species. It is currently configured for taller individuals due to the fact that most of the council is quite tall. With obvious exceptions.”

“Thank you.” She slipped between the table and the seat, then onto the step, but still had to hop a little to get onto the bench.

He sat down with her and pressed the button underneath the bench to raise them up a little, so they were at a good height for the table. Master Tapal sat down next to them on his side on a separate bench seat, and Father Aaren sat down on her side. The rest of the table filled up quickly. Master Kolar ended up directly across from them beside Master Yoda, and he wasn’t sure that was a good thing.

Merrin turned to him. “We’re sharing a seat meant for one adult, right?”

Cal laughed. “Yes. But this room is designed to prevent physical disparity amongst dinners. It’s a form of social politics as no one wants to be loomed over during meals, but most especially individuals in positions of power shouldn’t be put at a physical disadvantage as it can be seen as an insult by many species.”

“I bump my knees on the table in the kitchen of our apartment regularly,” Master Tapal muttered, and Merrin grinned at him.

“I don’t think I’m good at social politics,” Merrin said thoughtfully as droids started to deliver plates under Suo Greta’s direction.

“You’ll learn,” Father Aaren murmured. “And your mistakes will be easily forgiven because of your age.”

“And your looks,” Cal said and shrugged when she looked his way. “Pretty little girls have a certain sort of privilege in most cultures, especially in hominid groups.”

Merrin made a face, and Cal laughed. “On Dathomir, magickal power is more important than physical appearance.” She paused. “At least…well.”

Father Aaren grinned.

“What?” Senator Amidala questioned.

“On Dathomir, a female’s power is the most important thing when it comes to attraction,” Father Aaren said. “But the physical appearance of males does play a significant part in mate selection.”

“Just appearance?” Cal questioned.

“No,” Merrin said and shook her head. “Strength, stamina, intelligence, and the ability to provide would also be taken into account. Even the Human females won’t tolerate a breeding partner who can’t provide.”

“Breeding partner,” Senator Amidala repeated with a delighted grin. “I’m looking forward to spending time on Dathomir. Your culture is fascinating.”

“Surely, because it’s fast becoming clear that men are largely ornamental on that world,” Master Skywalker said under his breath.

Senator Amidala laughed. “You’re my favorite accessory, Anakin.”

He huffed, and Master Yoda snorted in amusement.

“Mine, too,” Master Kenobi said and smiled cheerfully when his former padawan glared at him briefly.

“Luminary, are you concerned about inviting the Jedi to make themselves at home on Dathomir when your role is determined by power within the Force?” Master Kolar questioned. “Master Yoda would certainly outmatch you.”

Merrin picked up her fork and made a pleased sound as a droid placed a plate of meat and vegetables in front of her. “He is certainly older than me but not more powerful. If a female amongst the Jedi Order were to undertake the rites of the ascension and become a Dathomiri witch, which takes five years, then prove herself more powerful than me, then I would welcome her to take my place. The role of Luminary was vacant for hundreds of years until recently, and it may very well remain vacant for hundreds of years after my death. Such is the magick of Dathomir. I’ve come to exist because I’m necessary. I did not seek power. I do not enjoy power. And I’ve no interest in playing power games.”

“Magick?” Master Kolar questioned. “Don’t you mean the Force?”

“No, I don’t,” Merrin said. “I mean magick. While I can certainly use the Force energy around me—the magick of Dathomir is fundamentally different from the Force. The manifestation of magick is the result of a concentrated population of Force-positive individuals on a Force vergence. I carry this magic inside of me wherever I go.” She held out her hand, and ichor swirled gently through her fingers, and a red flower appeared in her hand.

Merrin inspected the flower with a small smile and offered it to Senator Amidala. “From one queen to another.”

Master Skywalker reached out and took it for his wife, then passed it to her.

Senator Amidala stared for a moment, clearly startled, then smelled it. “It even smells real.”

“It’s as real as the ones that grow on your world,” Merrin said. “And it will stay exactly as it looks right now always unless it is physically destroyed as both the Force and the magic of Dathomir are eternal.”

“Thank you very much, Merrin,” Senator Amidala said and put the flower down on the table beside her plate.

“What’s it called?” Cal asked curiously.

“Queen’s Heart,” Senator Amidala murmured. “It grows wild all over Naboo and is cultivated in the garden of the palace that I once called my home.”

“How did you do that?” Master Kolar questioned. “If you don’t mind explaining?”

Merrin inclined her head as she took a sip of water. “Especially powerful people spend years being taught how to conjure with ichor, Master Kolar. But I’m the only one currently on Dathomir who can conjure permanent objects. I couldn’t explain it in a single conversation.”

“Ichor is…what exactly?”

“It’s the physical representation of the Force,” Merrin said. “Cal called it midi-chlorians. They’re in everything, even the air we breathe.” She touched her water glass. “The water we drink. The food we consume. All life in this galaxy is built on it, so it’s everywhere.” Green magick drifted around her fingers briefly, and she focused on her food again. “On Dathomir, the Force invests in us, and through it, we’ve learned to embrace the ichor and give it form.”

“I don’t know that the risks you’re taking here are worth it,” Master Kolar said. “The Republic isn’t going to help Dathomir the way any of us would prefer.”

“I think you underestimate exactly how invested the Force is in Dathomir, Master Kolar,” Cal interjected. “Besides, Senator Amidala has a plan.”

“I do,” she said brightly. “By the time I’m done, the entire Senate will think the whole thing was their idea. They’ll be arguing over taking credit for my brilliance for generations.” She winked at him when Cal laughed. “Besides, if they don’t do what I want—I’ll just take myself to Dathomir, set up a household, and force the Grand Republic Army to come rescue me again when Count Dooku makes an unfortunate appearance.”

“That would certainly do it,” General Tapal said wryly, which caused a smattering of laughter.

* * * *

“It’s crooked.”

Cal huffed and nodded as Merrin laughed. BD-1 was the most critical supervisor he’d ever had. The instructions on the datapad had made it seem simple so when Merrin had requested he braid her hair, he’d agreed. Cal worked the braid free up to the point where everything had gone awry and began again.

“Should I worry about the chancellor?” Merrin questioned.

“No,” Cal murmured. “He’s good. Bail Organa loves the Republic and his world. He adores his wife and has a special fondness for children, though they have none of their own. He’ll probably be appalled by your age, and I’m sure Senator Amidala is currently briefing him on the circumstances. She seems to the sort to make sure he doesn’t come into a meeting of this importance unprepared.”

“Do you think my plan to offer financial resources will be well-received?” Merrin questioned. “I wouldn’t want to see Dathomir strip mined, Cal, but we have no use for any of that so-called valuable ore.”

“I think that in other circumstances, revealing the resources of your planet would be dangerous, but the Force will protect Dathomir. People will quickly realize that nothing and no one will taken from your world without permission going forward.” Cal glanced toward BD-1, and the droid was sitting on the low table in front of the sofa watching them, so he continued the braid.

“Master Kolar appeared to be offended to meet me,” Merrin said.

“I think…he’s genuinely concerned about your safety,” Cal murmured. “He’s not easily offended and is well-known to have an abrasive personality. Master Kolar would certainly help the mothers wrap you in a blanket and tuck you away.”

Merrin groaned. “They’re the worst, honestly. I’ve not had a parent for seven years now. It’s too late for one of them to take on the role, and I have to police my boundaries with them a lot. I think it’ll get better once they adjust to the fact that I’m not going to allow them to influence or parent me.”

“A parental influence might not be a bad idea,” Cal said. “You could use an adult perspective occasionally and having an adult to advocate for you will be to your benefit.”

“Cere will give me all the guidance I need,” Merrin said. “I wonder how her padawan is doing in her trial. What do you think of her?”

“Trilla is…interesting,” Cal said after some thought. “She’ll make a fine Jedi Knight.”

“Tell me what you’re really thinking,” Merrin ordered.

Cal laughed a little. “She’s in her head a bit and hesitates with the physical elements of the Force. But she’s a dynamic thinker, and she’s deeply invested in the Jedi Order. I think she will do well in the trial. She can certainly defend herself and others, if need be, but I believe she’d be better served in an academic pursuit that keeps her out of the war.”

“How do duty assignments get done after you’re a knight?” Merrin questioned.

“The Council approves all assignments, but there are committees that handle the workload and the distribution of resources. It’s actually quite complicated underneath the overt structure. It’s more so because of the war effort and the Jedi’s current commitment to the Republic. The Jedi’s service in the military isn’t necessarily a popular choice across all groups. Even some Jedi are put off by what has been asked of us.”

“Like Talon Knof?” Merrin questioned. “He seemed to find fault with you.”

“I think he was mostly worried that he might be asked to handle my duties on the Albedo Brave and he seems the sort to see failure as a permanent state.”

“What do you consider a failure?”

“An opportunity to learn, adjust, and try again,” Cal said. He tied off her braid with the leather band she’d provided. “What do you think, BD?”

“It looks like the picture,” BD-1 declared. “I need to charge.” He darted off with that, leaving them alone in the living room.

“Father Aaren and Master Tapal are…intimately involved,” Merrin murmured.

“Yes, for decades,” Cal said quietly. “But they both focus on their duty as required. I don’t think it’s anything for you to worry about.”

Merrin turned on the sofa to face him and laughed. “I’m not worried. I’m leaning toward enablement.”

“It’s practically one of my duties per Master Frantar, who sent me a comm the day after I became Master Tapal’s padawan,” Cal said and smiled when she wiggled her eyebrows. “I’m to run interference, give them private time, and make sure no one who shouldn’t catch on as much as possible.”

Merrin giggled and covered her mouth with her hand with a glance toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms where Master Tapal and Father Aaren had retreated for a private conversation.

* * * *

“We shouldn’t supervise them?” Aaren questioned.

Jaro raised an eyebrow. “Do you suppose I’ve had a padawan for eighteen months that I can’t trust to obey my rules?”

“I have a lot of transitory worry,” Aaren admitted. “I thought I’d never come back to Coruscant, you know. I didn’t even have a way off of Dathomir since I chartered a ship that dropped me off and immediately left.”

“I don’t think that’s a good circumstance now,” Jaro admitted. “I received a comm from Mace recently letting me know that your estate had been liquidated, and all of the funds were transferred to me.”

“I was considering a personal ship purchase over the last year. The YT-1760 from Corellian Engineering was my final choice, but I never ordered it. It’ll need to be a custom job since it doesn’t come out of the factory floor with weapons or shields.”

“I’ll handle it,” Jaro said.

“Is Agen a problem?”

Agen Kolar had certainly overtly disapproved of the circumstances. Jaro grimaced.

“I think he spent too much time with his family of origin,” he said and shrugged when Aaren raised an eyebrow. “I don’t agree with the way the Order currently handles families, but in this case Agen has some personal bias going on that he certainly didn’t learn from any Jedi around him. Female Zabraks are often sheltered as children, certainly, but we know it’s more about the preservation of your race and reproduction than it is anything else. It’s ultimately very sexist.”

“It was certainly worse on my homeworld,” Aaren said. “Had I been female, I would’ve been actively hidden from the Jedi Order. The breeding program on Dathomir isn’t without precedent, as you know, as matings are often arranged in Zabrak communities no matter where they are. There are female Zabraks on this planet right now that live so secluded a life that they’ve never met someone of a different species. I think Agen came from such a clan.”

“It’s clear that he’d find life on Dathomir extremely difficult,” Jaro said. “But we still need to maintain a presence on Coruscant, and this temple will remain here.”

“I believe Master Yoda will relocate to Dathomir,” Aaren said.

“I agree. The older he gets, the more it’s clear that living on a city-world is taxing for him. It’s not an ideal environment for his species and there are several swamps on Dathomir that will probably appeal to him. It’s a large deeply natural world that he could explore to his content,” Jaro said. “And the Force is also prodding him in ways I don’t think it has previously. Cal’s disapproval of Yoda makes me think that he’s been influenced by the Force to find fault with most of what the grand master has done.”

“He sees himself in Anakin Skywalker,” Aaren said. “And he thinks the Council failed Anakin. He’s not wrong. There are many things I would do differently given a chance.” He cleared his throat. “Are you going to tell the Council that Cal time traveled?”

Jaro went to the bed where Aaren was sitting and sat down with him. “Merrin told you?”

“Yes, and I’m gratified by her trust. The mothers will be furious, but she’s asked me to lead her council and help her create a government that is fair to all citizens on the planet.”

“She couldn’t have made a better choice,” Jaro said. “And no, I’m never telling the Jedi Council that they time traveled. The more people who know, the more dangerous it becomes for her.” Aaren nodded. “And I need to honor the love the adult version of Cal had for her. Their relationship, in the future, was built on grief and trauma.”

“I hate to picture it,” Aaren admitted. “They’re so sweet together now. I think most of the Council is low-key appalled by the public handholding, but I think it’s charming.”

“It’s very charming,” Jaro said. “They have a gentle and sweet Force bond as well—probably built while they dreamt together. But I think they’re holding hands for vastly different reasons.”

“She’s seeking reassurance, and he’s keeping a hand on her for security purposes,” Aaren suggested, and Jaro nodded.

“Her safety is clearly important to him. I’m honestly unsure of how territorial Human males can get over potential partners,” Jaro admitted. “You?”

“This is one circumstance where our education and work life do not serve us,” Aaren said wryly, and Jaro laughed. “I was surprised when you took a Human padawan.”

“He’s a compelling child,” Jaro said. “And was from the start—well before he started dreaming of terrible things beyond my ability to protect him from.” He checked the time. “Chancellor Organa will be here within the half hour. Let’s get them settled as much as possible before that happens.”

* * * *

BD-1 dropped down off his shoulder and trotted across the room to Master Yoda and popped a little synth programming disc out, which the grand master caught with a grin and pocketed.

“Thank you, BD-1.”

“You’re welcome,” BD-1 said and trotted back to Cal.

It crossed Cal’s mind then that he’d probably made a mistake getting BD-1 his own comm address. But in his defense, Master Tapal hadn’t had a problem with it, either. They shared a look, and his master looked a little flummoxed for a second. In the end, BD-1 was free, so it was just one of those things. He offered the droid hand up, and he settled on Cal’s back again.

Chancellor Organa was speaking with Master Windu as they crossed the room and Merrin’s breath hitched as the man focused on her. Her eyes were wide with shock and Cal stopped walking.

“Merrin?” he questioned under his breath, and she shuddered. “What’s wrong?”

“I know him.”

“From before,” Cal whispered, and she nodded quickly. “Is something putting you off? Did he do something he shouldn’t have?”

“No, it was just a shock,” Merrin said and offered Father Aaren a quick smile when the older man inclined his head in question. “I never heard his real name in the dream. He helped create the Hidden Path.”

Cal found that information fit with what he knew about the man since Chancellor Organa was certainly very enamored with the Force itself. They were back in the big meeting room with the dining table, but a grouping of chairs had been gathered near the floor-to-ceiling windows near the front.

“I’m sorry, we should’ve shown you an image of him,” Cal murmured. “So, you’d be better prepared for this.”

“I read all about him on my datapad. I didn’t even bother searching for an image,” Merrin said, and she sighed when he smiled. “Who’s the woman with him?”

“That’s his wife, Queen Breha Organa of Alderaan,” Master Tapal said in a low tone.

“Quite a power play,” Cal said and took a deep breath. “Manipulation?”

“Nerves,” Master Tapal suggested. “He’s been told that she responded well to Senator Amidala, and he’s offering an avenue of engagement that won’t be as intimidating. Additionally, he’s been here for half a year and was meant to go home for a Senate break several weeks ago. A circumstance that could no longer happen due to his election to the position of chancellor.”

They were guided across the room at that point, and Chancellor Organa smiled as they approached. He touched his wife and brought her close to him without a word. Cal wondered at the body language as he didn’t know if it was a matter of concern or affection that had made him bring his wife closer to his body.

“Your Majesty, Chancellor Organa please meet the Luminary of Dathomir,” Master Tapal said and cleared his throat when Breha Organa started to hold out her hands in greeting. “She’s profoundly sensitive within the Force and shouldn’t be touched casually. This is my padawan, Cal Kestis.”

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Jaro,” Queen Breha said warmly. “You’ve not aged a day since I was a child.”

Master Tapal smiled. “I was gratified to hear of the success of your Day of Demand despite your injuries.”

“Failure has never been a reasonable outcome to me, as you know,” Queen Breha said and focused on Merrin. “I’m pleased to meet you, Luminary. I’m on Coruscant visiting my husband and requested to attend the meeting when he told me about you. I’ve also ordered a diplomatic envoy join me on Coruscant from Alderaan and I’ll be in the Senate representing my world as we’ve yet to select a new senator. Your situation on Dathomir concerns me greatly.”

“My personal situation or that of my people?” Merrin questioned.

“Both, honestly,” Queen Breha said gently. “Child rulers are exceedingly rare throughout the galaxy. I have faith that Padmé is advising you to the best of her ability, but the pressure on you is immense. The social politics of your world have put you in a very difficult and dangerous position.”

Merrin nodded. “Though not exactly political. The Luminary of Dathomir is a religious icon, historically.” Queen Breha’s eyes widened slightly. “The difference matters.”

“Yes, it does,” Queen Breha said quietly. “Bail.”

“Let us sit, please,” Chancellor Organa said.

Merrin ended up in her own chair and Cal hoped she found it just as appalling as he did. The level of codependency wasn’t lost on him at all, so he didn’t say anything as the Jedi Council settled in around them as well. Senator Amidala joined them last with a quick smile in Merrin’s direction.

“How did the research go, Padmé?” Queen Breha questioned.

“It’s an ancient law that was migrated from the High Republic to the current Republic with no discussion at all,” Senator Amidala began. “It would distribute the blame, so to speak, and it would look extremely high-handed from the outside on behalf of Alderaan. The Senate would have no recourse, but it might harm your husband’s chances of being reelected.”

Queen Breha exchanged a glance with her husband, who shrugged. “Very well, please explain the new proposal to the Luminary.”

Senator Amidala took a deep breath. “We’re worried that your petition would be stalled in the Senate for months, and that could allow Dooku to direct his attention toward your world. It’s clear that he both fears the Dathomiri and wishes to take the resources of the planet to fund his empire.”

Merrin nodded.

“Queen Breha has suggested that I review colony law within the Republic. Naboo was once a colony of Alderaan, you see, and we were annexed into the Republic through that relationship, thus becoming independent shortly after the migration of Humans from Alderaan was complete. It’s been over a thousand years since that happened, but the process still exists within the law.”

“Why did they colonize a world that already had a sapient population?” Merrin questioned.

“The Gungan leader of the time requested it to prevent the Hutts from taking over his world,” Senator Amidala explained and took a deep breath. “They saw the Gungans as a source of….”

“Breedable food,” Merrin supplied and made a disgusted face as Senator Amidala nodded. “Someone should blockade their planet and prevent them from leaving it ever again. With protein synths, there’s no need for them to behave the way they do. It’s just malicious and disgusting.”

Cal didn’t disagree at all.

“So, you’re proposing to colonize Dathomir,” Merrin said. “If I agree to this, what guarantee do I have that you’ll actually follow through with granting our independence?”

“Alderaan doesn’t have a single colony anywhere in the galaxy,” Queen Breha said gently. “We don’t have an army or navy as we are a world dedicated to peace. Our participation in the Republic came with the stipulation that no citizen of Alderaan can be compelled to serve in the Republic’s military or security forces.”

“How does that mesh with your husband’s new position?” Merrin questioned. “Is he not the commander-in-chief of the Grand Army of the Republic?”

“It’s difficult to balance my personal beliefs with the duty I’ve accepted on behalf of the Republic,” Chancellor Organa said. “But I believe that sometimes peace must be fought for.”

Merrin nodded. “How many colonists can I expect?”

“Just the ones you’ve already agreed to,” Senator Amidala said. “Queen Breha will accept all willing Jedi as citizens and will empower them to colonize Dathomir on behalf of Alderaan. Any clones that join you can do so after the fact. There’s no need to cloud the issue.”

“And the financial incentives?” Merrin questioned.

“I have to admit, I was startled by the proposal,” Chancellor Organa began. “It’s been made clear to me that you’re not being coerced by an outside entity to offer up the wealth of your world to the Republic. I just don’t understand why you’d be willing to help us in such a way. It’ll break the back of the InterGalactic Banking Clan and give the Republic the kind of independence it hasn’t had in many thousands of years.”

Merrin made a face. “It’s not…the wealth of Dathomir. It’s just rocks.” The older man blinked and shared a glance with his wife. “I realize you find it valuable and in that, I see an advantage to be granted to my people. But please don’t ever be confused—I’m not offering you the true wealth of my world, as that is not mine to give.”

Queen Breha leaned forward slightly in her chair. “What is the wealth of your world?”

“Magick,” Merrin said. “Dathomir is a deep well of infinite magick and Force potential. It twists around my world like a river that has no beginning and no end. It provides everything we need except for genuine protection from external threats. The Confederacy of Independent Systems could bombard us from space, and we’d be annihilated. They want the resources I’m offering the Republic, and Dooku wants us all killed because he fears us.” She sat back in her chair. “He should. It would be exceedingly unwise for him to ever come near me.” She paused. “Because Dathomir appreciates peace but is most certainly not married to it.”

Chapter 19

They’d taken a break without a decision on Merrin’s part and Cal appreciated the fact that there was no pressure put on her about it. They ended up on a bench across the room from everyone. Most of the adults were avoiding staring at them so that was something. Cal figured it wouldn’t last since Merrin had made it clear she wanted a private conversation with him.

She frowned. “They gave me my own chair.”

“I know; it was weird,” Cal admitted, and she huffed. “What do you think?”

“I’m worried,” Merrin admitted. “They’re clearly doing all of this complicated stuff because they’re worried that the Senate will react badly to Dathomir’s inclusion in the Republic. I know that my world is heavily discriminated against in general because of how the Force manifests there.”

“The best way to change that is through education,” Cal said and took a deep breath. “Are you worried that accepting their plan will make you look weak?”

“We are weak to external threats,” Merrin said and looked out the window across from them. “I can’t ignore that, nor can I deny it. So, management is the only choice.” She chewed on her bottom lip, and her fingers slipped against his as he took her hand. Her shoulders relaxed. “What do you think?”

“I think…that both Senator Amidala and Queen Breha are seeking to protect you,” Cal said. “They see themselves in you and want to take your burdens on because you’re so young. It’s probably very tempting to allow it, but you need to tread carefully with it. You can’t forfeit a single bit of your power, Merrin. Not for anyone—not even me.”

Her eyes widened slightly. “What do you mean?”

“You must put your world first as long as you stand as Luminary—before the Republic, before the Jedi, and before me.” He watched her process that. “They’re all depending on you, waiting for you to return and tell them that you’ve done all that you can to make them safe from Dooku and his droid army.”

She averted her gaze and nodded even as her fingers flexed against his. Merrin nodded and took a deep breath. “In the dreams, you became the center of my universe. I’d have done anything for you.”

He didn’t know what to say exactly, so he took a deep breath to consider his words. Because his whole body seemed to fill up with remembered love in that moment, and he just stared. Force energy moved between them, and Cal ignored the surge of noise across the room. The ichor thickened around them as Merrin processed her emotions and accepted the circumstances.

“Those people we dream about won’t ever be us, Merrin,” Cal murmured. “We have a path of our own—a destiny to forge that won’t be built on shared loss and trauma. Your world will remain beautiful, and the Force will continue to flow there unmarred by the scars of loss it suffered in the dream. You won’t be forced to shroud the majority of your people in death like you did in the dream.”

Her eyes fluttered shut, and the ichor around them swelled with a mixture of grief and shame. Cal wished he didn’t understand it, but he did. Part of him was deeply ashamed of his own relief for being able to let go of the burdens that had broken his heart in the future.

“Everything will be better,” Cal said quietly.

“But different, and I’m worried that I won’t…be enough.”

“For what?” Cal questioned.

“For you.”

“Me?” Cal stared for a moment. “You realize you’re not even an adult and already out of my league, right?” Her eyes widened with shock. “Seriously.”

Her cheeks darkened. “But I’m not….”

“You’re the queen of your whole planet,” Cal said. “I’m just going to be a regular guy with a lightsaber.” He shrugged when she raised an eyebrow. “I don’t have anything to offer you now or in the future, you know.”

“Well, that’s because you’ve already given me your heart, and that’s all I need,” Merrin said. “I know that I can trust you with everything, and there’s no one else in my life like that, Cal. There never will be.”

Master Tapal knelt beside the bench suddenly and put his hand on top of theirs. “Is something wrong? We’ve locked down the room, but Queen Breha is very concerned that she’s upset you, Merrin.”

“Not the Jedi Council?” Merrin questioned.

“No, they all recognized immediately that the Force power radiating off the two of you was the lightest thing they’ll ever have the privilege to witness in their lives.” Master Tapal lifted his hand. “But none of them were quite comfortable enough to come over here, either.”

Cal coughed to avoid laughing as he glanced across the room. Father Aaren was standing next to them, close enough to touch Master Tapal if he wanted. “The stress of the situation is immense.”

“I’m sorry,” Merrin said, and the ichor started to recede. “I didn’t mean to alarm anyone. The pooling of the Force around the Jedi Council is…difficult.”

“Why do you think it pools around them?” Master Tapal questioned.

“I don’t know,” Merrin grimaced. “And it doesn’t pool around all of them, but they all move heavily as if they’re dragging the Force around with them. Cal doesn’t do that.”

“Do I?” Master Tapal asked.

“A little,” Merrin said. “Not as much as the others your age and older. It’s like they’re pulling the Force close to them—like a death shroud. Father Aaren did it when he first came to Dathomir, but he gradually relaxed and let go of whatever he was holding.”

“Is it unpleasant?” Master Tapal shifted his stance and sat back slightly from them.

“It’s not harmful to me,” Merrin said. “But I find the confinement of the Force offensive. It’s like they’re hoarding it out of fear that it will be taken from them, and that’s not the way of the Dathomiri.”

“I’m not consciously doing it,” Master Tapal said. “I’ll find some time to meditate to figure out how or why it’s happening.”

Merrin nodded. “The more unburdened you are as you move through the Force, the more powerful and free to act you will be, Master Tapal.”

The ichor faded completely at that point and Master Tapal stood. “Queen Breha wishes to speak with Father Aaren, and he’ll be added to the meeting when we convene again. We hope you won’t mind returning to sharing a chair, Merrin. If you’d prefer your own, for political reasons, then we can have another brought it.”

“I’m fine sharing with Cal,” Merrin said and managed to not look relieved.

He was certain that he hadn’t been successful at all, but he resolved not to be ashamed of it. The situation was stressful, and it felt dangerous when she wasn’t close. They let themselves be guided back to the meeting area and took a seat together. Merrin settled close to him as BD-1 climbed onto the back of their chair in a place of sentry.

“Something concerns you, Luminary?” Queen Breha questioned, her gaze dropping to their hands.

Merrin’s fingers clenched briefly against his, but she didn’t release him. “This is the first time I’ve ever been off Dathomir. The Force power dynamics are very different. It could be because I have a very limited experience with the Jedi, and there are many in this room. It is a circumstance that I must adjust to, so I will. The Force pools on this world instead of flowing, and I wonder if that’s a response to the lack of a natural environment, Queen Breha.”

Queen Breha focused on Father Aaren. “And you? Do you feel the same impact, Father Aaren?”

“I do not,” Aaren admitted. “But I’m not as sensitive to such things as the Luminary, and her relationship with the Force is a largely private matter.”

“Are you the Luminary’s parent or guardian?”

“No, neither,” Father Aaren said. “I lead the Council of Dathomir at her request, and I’m here merely to protect her.”

“But not advise?” Queen Breha prodded.

“Only at her request,” Father Aaren said smoothly. “The rule of the Luminary is absolute on Dathomir.”

“Why?” Queen Breha asked.

Father Aaren focused on Merrin, who merely inclined her head then returned his attention to the Queen of Alderaan. “As you must already know, the position is determined by magickal power.”

“Yes, though I’m not certain I know the difference between Force potential and magickal power.”

“Force potential must be trained; magickal power is merely bestowed upon an individual by the Force itself on Dathomir at their birth, and they grow into it. The Luminary only needs to think of a thing to make it happen,” Father Aaren said simply. “Though she is certainly more powerful in some circumstances and less than in others, she stands alone in that power on Dathomir. Historically speaking, she’s never had an equal.”

“Think a thing to make it happen,” Queen Breha repeated. “I don’t…what you speak of is considered to be fantasy by the scientists on my world.”

“You understand how the Force manifests, correct?” Father Aaren said. “The Jedi uses the Force through manipulation of midi-chlorians in their own bodies.” Queen Breha nodded. “The Luminary can manipulate midi-chlorians inside and outside of her own body. She can draw them from the air she breathes. She’s capable of incredible feats of power known as magick on Dathomir. An especially powerful Luminary in the very distant pass on our world was capable of resurrection with magick, without the use of necro-elements and ritual.”

“Can you resurrect the dead with the Force, Luminary?” Queen Breha asked.

“I’ve not tried,” Merrin admitted. “It’s not something to be done lightly as I, too, must bow to the will of the Force. Nothing organic in this galaxy is free from her judgment in some fashion or another, not even the dark Force users, though they often don’t realize how harsh the judgment will be until the end then it is far too late.”

“Yet, you allow the dark to have purchase on Dathomir,” Queen Breha interjected.

“I could, I suppose, cast them off the planet,” Merrin acknowledged. “Some of them are quite elderly for their species and would not do well in such circumstances. It would amount to a death sentence for many of them. But it’s not my duty nor my right to punish them for their use of the Force. Dathomir has large periods of lawlessness throughout our history, and I hope that my lasting legacy will be a government and legal system that will survive my death. But even then, it will not be illegal to be a dark Force user on Dathomir.

“The Force requires balance, and the scales of such a thing are delicate. Besides, it’s not like they’re all running around plotting to take over the galaxy. For many of them, the darkest thing they do is indulge in a little necromancy.” Merrin shrugged. “It fuels the Force vergence on Dathomir just as much as any other movement in the Force does. If the Lady finds fault with their behavior in life, then they will be denied a reunion with her in death.”

Queen Breha nodded slowly. “So, you consider free will a fundamental right?”

“Yes, of course,” Merrin said. “Free will is essential, but so are consequences. The darkest actions, Force related or not, are rooted in destroying the free will of other sapient creatures. I want to be fair and just to the people of Dathomir. It’s why I’m here.”

“What do you mean?” Chancellor Organa questioned.

“I could’ve sought refuge within the Jedi Order on my own,” Merrin said simply. “I’ve been sharing dreams with Cal for weeks. All I had to do was ask him for help. Master Tapal would’ve come for me immediately. The Force told me so, and I would’ve been safe. Dooku would’ve sent his droid army to Dathomir, and everyone there would’ve died.

“Instead of doing that, I revealed my new circumstances to my people and allowed them to bestow on me the title of Luminary. A role I’ve been assured I will carry the burden of my entire long life. I’m fourteen, and the average female Zabrak lives upwards of 190 years. I didn’t make this decision lightly, Chancellor Organa. I’ll be leading my world when your great-grandson sits on the throne of Alderaan.”

Chancellor Organa shared a glance with his wife. “We don’t have children.”

“Oh, well, I wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise then,” Merrin said with a smile. “Pleasant ones are always a gift.”

“Yes,” Queen Breha said and took her husband’s hand. “They are. Thank you.” She inclined her head. “Have you come to a decision about Padmé’s plan?”

“My main concern is the lack of agency I have in the process,” Merrin admitted. “I need the Senate to take me seriously and not see me as a child playing at leadership. I can’t be seen to be hiding behind you or Senator Amidala, either. I do appreciate the symmetry of the proposal in regard to Naboo’s history with Alderaan.”

“Are you worried that you won’t be taken seriously because you’re a child?” Queen Breha questioned.

“I’ve found that adults rarely take children seriously,” Merrin said. “I will battle misconceptions about my abilities for decades due to my gender, species, age, and size.” She made a face. “Based on visions, I’m not going to be as tall as the average Zabrak female.”

Cal considered that and nodded.

“What are you thinking?” Merrin questioned with a narrowed gaze.

“Well, I was thinking about my own dreams,” Cal admitted. “Master Tapal is seven-foot-five, and my adult height looked to be about six feet in comparison to him, so I think that’d put you around five-foot-two in comparison.” She scrunched up her nose. “Sorry.”

“I was thinking five-foot-four.”

“Yeah, but then I remembered you wore thick-soled boots,” Cal said and shrugged when she huffed. “You did. They were nice, though.”

“I wonder where I got them,” Merrin said and held out her foot to look at the boot she was wearing. “And if I could get a similar pair now.” She flushed when Master Tapal cleared his throat gently. “My apologies.” She focused on Queen Breha. “I’m willing to explore the colonization plan. It will cut through the process and allow for immediate action, which is what I need.”

“To preserve Dathomir’s agency,” Senator Amidala began, and they all focused on her. “It’s best if it’s presented as a plan that Queen Breha has conceived and presented to the Luminary to circumvent Count Dooku’s plans for the planet. She will graciously agree to the plan in exchange for protection. The banking plan, which is brilliant, will be couched as a sacrifice on their part in order to gain the protection of the Republic. And neither circumstance looks like you’ve come to Coruscant to beg for help.

“Due to the extreme amount of financial support that the Luminary is prepared to provide to the Republic, the Jedi Order has agreed to become citizens of her world as part of Alderaan’s colonization effort.” She focused on Master Yoda, who merely nodded. “The Senate will see everyone in this circumstance sacrificing something to the good of the Republic, though some might not approve of it privately, I think most will be overtly pleased to think they’re getting a great deal out of the situation.”

Cal watched everyone around them consider the ramifications, and each nodded in turn.

“Cal?” Chancellor Organa questioned. “What do you think?”

Cal’s mind raced through a dozen different consequences, and the Force surged in him. Merrin’s hand clenched in his as his eyes fluttered shut. BD-1 beeped gently and crawled off the chair to perch on his shoulder. The weight of the droid was a comfort of sorts that he decided not to dissect. The Force gentled inside of him as she showed him the faces of various members of the Senate. He didn’t know their names. He realized he’d dropped into a dream state and hoped he hadn’t hurt Merrin when he’d gone to sleep against her.

Jaro left his chair and carefully picked his padawan up. Merrin reluctantly released Cal’s hand. “Give him a moment.”

“What’s wrong, Jaro?” Queen Breha. “Is he ill? What’s the Force doing to him?”

“He’s dreaming,” Jaro said as he crossed the space and put Cal down on a cushioned bench.

BD-1 and Merrin both followed him. She sat down on the edge of the bench and took Cal’s hand again. Even in sleep, his fingers gently entwined with hers.

“My apologies,” Bail Organa said. “I didn’t realize asking him a question would do this….”

“It was an unexpectedly complicated question,” Jaro pointed out, and Bail flushed. “He’s not old enough to have the kind of communication that the Force would require to answer your question without a deep meditative or dream state. The Force isn’t doing anything to him, Breha. She’s merely giving him all the information he needs to provide a righteous answer to the question your husband asked.” He focused on Merrin. “How does he feel?”

Merrin stared at Cal’s face. “Kind of irritated.” She shrugged at the looks she received for the answer.

“Jaro, can you explain what kind of relationship the two children have?” Breha questioned. “How are they sharing dreams?”

Merrin frowned. “That’s a very personal question.”

Jaro hummed his agreement. “There are a variety of ways that the Force can create connections that allow for the sharing of dreams and even a meditative state. But the nature of the connection between Cal and Merrin is not up for discussion without permission from them both.” He focused on Breha. “I see the curious child in you even now as you stand before me, a grown woman.”

She smiled. “I hope that child never leaves me. Is he going to be okay?”

“The Force would never hurt him,” Merrin said. “At least, not physically.”

“What do you mean?” Queen Breha asked.

“Well,” Merrin began and took a deep breath. “It can be emotionally painful to witness such horrible things. I’ve terrible visions. Cal’s seen the same in dreams.” She turned to BD-1. “BD, will you go find one of those server droids and ask for a tray of appropriate food? He’ll be hungry when he wakes up. Many weeks have already passed in the dream, and it’s starting to drain him physically.”

The droid hopped down and hurried away.

Jaro sat down on the bench near Cal’s head and put a hand on his back. He pushed gently with the Force, and Merrin’s eyes widened as she stared at him. “What?”

“You…are very interesting,” Merrin said. “Cal never told me you could heal with the Force.”

“It’s not something I do often,” Jaro said. “If the healing is extensive, it can be taxing to the point that I’m made vulnerable, and I’d never leave myself so weakened with such a young padawan.”

“Will you teach me?” Merrin questioned.

“When you’re properly apprenticed with Master Junda, ask her about it, and I’ll be included, as my schedule allows, in your mentorship if it’s possible.” Jaro watched her nod and focused on Cal. “It’s been more than weeks now.”

“More than a year,” Merrin said with a frown. “I fear….”

“What?” Jaro prodded, and she exhaled sharply.

“My visions are intense, at times lengthy, and devastating. And that first dream lasted years,” Merrin admitted. “I basically grew up on Dathomir—it was so lonely and sad. Cal did the same where he was, surrounded by those old, broken ships where he was forced to work for practically nothing just so he could eat.

“He would sometimes work as much as twenty hours a day, Master Tapal, and barely get any sleep before a new day began. When he was young and little, like now, they’d make him go into small places and do dangerous things to break down ships and engines.” She rubbed the top of Cal’s hand with a thumb. “He had scars all over his hands and arms from being burned and cut, breaking those ships down on Bracca. In a way, I suppose, we both grew up in graveyards in those dreams.”

The silence was no comfort at all.

“Those dreams will never happen,” Jaro said. “The Empire won’t exist, Merrin. You’re safe from it.”

She nodded. “It’s just…how much death and destruction can we see before it starts to weigh us down?”

Yoda joined them and put his hand on Cal’s shoulder briefly then brushed his hair from his forehead with a pensive expression. “Protect you both, the Force does. Always with you. Never alone in your dream or visions.”

Merrin nodded slowly. “I’ll try to remember.”

“Does he always dream so deeply?” Mace questioned.

“No,” Jaro said. “In fact, rarely. Mostly, I think he explores Dathomir with Merrin when he dreams.” He focused on her, and the girl flushed.

“I’ve shown him my favorite places,” Merrin said. “And we explore big caves and ruins sometimes since I can’t do it for real. But it’s not always on Dathomir. We crawled around in a big abandoned Jedi Temple on Jedha last night with the Force’s help.” She smiled when they all stared at her. “It was really interesting. We’re going to ask Master Cordova about it later.” She focused on Cal then and squinted a little. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Father Aaren prodded. “Is the dream over?”

“He’s exploring decision paths,” Merrin said as she shook her head. “So, it’s more complicated than just a dream state. It’s like he’s standing at the intersection of a thousand roads. There was once a Great Mother on Dathomir who spoke of multiple universes and how they were formed because decisions, both great and small, cause splinters to form. The story of her life and theory is told in crèches all over Dathomir—as a morality tale but also as a comfort.”

“How is believing that to be true a comfort?” Padmé questioned.

“In some universe, maybe even in multiple universes, my mother is alive,” Merrin said. “And that would be a very comforting thing to believe. I’m not sure if I believe in the splinters, but it’s a very engaging story about love, loss, and the limits we place on ourselves and on others throughout our lives. It also speaks to free will and the consequences of our actions.”

“Sorrowful child you are,” Yoda said quietly.

Merrin focused on Cal rather than respond, and Jaro realized there really was nothing that could be said. Merrin and Cal both were often very sad about the things they’d been forced to live through in the future they shared. They sacrificed so much to save the galaxy from a tyrannical empire, and barely anyone would ever know.

Cal stirred, and everyone moved away as he woke. Jaro appreciated the fact that they knew that hovering around his padawan would be disconcerting for the boy. Merrin raised an eyebrow at Cal when his eyes finally flickered open.

“Enjoy your nap?”

“Not in the least,” Cal said frankly and rolled over onto his back with a shudder. “I need….”

“Whatever you need is fine,” Jaro said. “The rest of this meeting can wait.”

“I don’t think it can,” Cal admitted and rubbed his face with his free hand. “I did get the Force to promise me she’d never make me go to sleep in public again.”

Merrin laughed.

“You’re so rude, Spacewitch,” Cal muttered. “Also, the Force wants you to know that splinter universes do, in fact, exist.” He focused on her as he dropped his hand. “We’ve actually managed to create a half dozen between us then and now.”

Merrin nodded slowly. “Do you suppose someone could travel between them?”

“Force willing,” Cal said with a shrug and slowly sat up. “Master….” He trailed off as BD-1 returned with an astromech holding a tray. “When did BD get staff?”

Jaro laughed.

Merrin took the tray. “I ordered you some food.”

“Thanks.” Cal hummed a little as he picked up the bantha burger with both hands and took a bite. “Let’s go back to the group.”

Merrin stood with the tray and Cal followed along behind her. They ended up sitting on the floor in front of the chair they’d been sharing, and Jaro sat down in his own chair as he watched Merrin prod him through eating the burger, some fruit, and a glass bottle full of water.

“BD,” Cal said, and the droid sat down next to him with an inquisitive beep. “Show me all the faces of every single person with access to the Galactic Senate floor and building.”

The droid displayed thousands of faces in the air above them.

“Delete all the non-Humans,” Cal murmured. “And anyone under the age of thirty standard years.” He nodded. “Remove all of the individuals identifying as female.”

“What is he doing?” Queen Breha questioned quietly.

“I don’t know,” Jaro admitted. “Cal?”

“The dream moved fast,” Cal said. “Names seemed to get lost, so I’m hunting for faces.” He paused. “And one very specific face.”

“What did the man do?” Merrin questioned.

“I moved through a hundred representative paths. The Force said that the outcome was identical in thousands of paths, and there was no need for me to see them all,” Cal said as he flicked faces away one by one. “And in all but one, the person I’m looking for was the author of a devastating attack on the Senate that resulted in the deaths of hundreds.” He paused. “Ultimately, he failed in his plan, but he dealt an immense blow to the Republic, and Count Dooku briefly took over. But that fool tried to cultivate me as an asset.” He paused. “And I killed him—forty-one times.”

“Out of a hundred?” Merrin demanded huffily. “What happened the other times?”

“Master Tapal killed him,” Cal said in amusement. “It was a race on every single path to see which one of us would get to him first. Though, twice you did it. The amount of smug superiority we had to deal with after that, Spacewitch, was a lot. At any rate….” He trailed off and pulled a holoimage close to him. “This one. Who is this?”

“Ishin-Il-Raz,” Padmé Amidala said. “Junior senator from Coruscant, a humanocentric bigot, with no real prospects, who was favored by Chancellor Palpatine leading up this death. I don’t see him organizing an attack of any size. He has no military experience, doesn’t inspire loyalty, and has precious little in the way of funds.”

“He’s not the one, but he was involved.” Cal pushed the image to the side and started to move through them again.

“How is BD-1 doing this?” Padmé questioned. “I’ve never seen a program do something like this with holograms.”

“I asked BD-1 to make me a puzzle program so I could design training courses for myself,” Cal said. “He’s started to use it to help me study as well. It’s very helpful for battle management, and also, we’ve been playing games.” He flicked through a series of images, pulled two to the side, and kept going.

“Sate Pestage, ruler of the Ciutric Hegemony. He served as a personal advisor to Sheev Palpatine for decades,” Padmé explained. “Most would say he was Palpatine’s right-hand man, and he handled his scheduling with a side dish of gatekeeping. He was off-world when Chancellor Palpatine was assassinated but returned to Coruscant just in time for the public funeral. He’s since joined a populist group, the Commission for the Protection of the Republic, which is fast becoming a genuine political engine.”

“He also hates Bail,” Queen Breha said quietly. “And sent me a comm months ago suggesting that I recall my husband and send someone qualified to represent Alderaan in the Senate.”

“I hate him back,” Bail muttered and grinned when Jaro laughed.

He focused on his padawan and found Cal still moving through images.

“The second image is Janus Greejatus,” Padmé said. “Former senior advisor to Sheev Palpatine and comes from the world Chommell Minor. He loathes non-Humans and was briefly a senator for the Chommell sector, but he was deeply unsuited to the duty, and I made sure he was removed from the position as quickly as possible.”

“Who took his place as senator?” Jaro questioned.

“Eventually, I did,” Padmé admitted.

“This man,” Cal said as he focused on the final image he’d chosen, and Padmé Amidala took a deep breath.

“That’s Ars Dangor,” she said. “He was an advisor to Sheev Palpatine and has recently returned to Naboo to attempt to take on a role as an advisor to my queen.” Her mouth firmed up. “Is he dangerous?”

“He’s on the cusp of turning the Commission for the Protection of the Republic into a terrorist organization,” Cal said. “They’ll call it the COMPOR Initiative. Your queen is going to reject him out of hand because you’ve already told her that she can’t trust anyone who once served as an advisor to Sheev Palpatine. She does trust you with everything and will follow your advice regarding Palpatine and his inner circle. Alderaan’s colonization of Dathomir, when combined with the Jedi’s acceptance of planetary citizenship, will drive them right onto the path of destruction.

“Their biggest issues are going to slam into one another, you see. In their minds, Alderaan, a shining jewel of Humanity, is wasting time and resources on a world full of alien savages. No matter the fact Dathomir’s population is overwhelmingly Human. Also, they think all non-Humans are savages. Then the Jedi Order, an organization that elevates and trains non-Humans to be threats, is supporting the plan. In all the various paths, they were a problem in some fashion or another.

“This information can’t be taken for fact,” Cal said as he focused on Chancellor Organa. “None of the paths are concrete, and any little change could shift motives and loyalties. These men are problems and should be investigated. I would say that all of Sheev Palpatine’s advisors and personal associations should be investigated. There is another,” Cal began but then paused. “Thank you, BD. I don’t need the rest of those images.”

BD-1 ended the projection and nudged the tray with his foot. Cal picked up the last of the fruit, and Merrin moved the tray to the side.

“Armand Isard,” Cal said and focused on Chancellor Organa.

“He’s a member of the Security and Intelligence Council,” Bail said. “One of the few I have left after security reviews. He’s passed them all.”

“He would,” Cal said. “He’s a practical, mentally stable, ruthless man who values intelligence in those around him. He’s also a sociopath who’d gladly sacrifice his own child to protect himself. The Force doesn’t trust him, nor does she trust the daughter he’s raising. I don’t know the specifics of why, but I do know that you shouldn’t allow either of them anywhere near you now or in the future.” He paused and made a face. “Also, never trust him alone with your wife. Armand Isard loathes women in positions of power and feels that all females should be forced to be inferior to men in all situations. His daughter really won’t be an exception after she’s an adult. He’ll be proud of her success but disgusted and threatened by it at the same time.”

“You told me before that you can’t tell me the future,” Bail Organa said quietly. “What would you call this?”

“A list of possibilities,” Cal said and smiled when the older man laughed. “Which is why you must investigate, evaluate, and mitigate these people’s ability to act. Some of them have committed no crimes currently, so they can’t be punished for what they might do. Still, please know you can’t trust them.”

“How much time do you think we have between the announcement of Dathomir’s inclusion in the Republic and the formation of the COMPOR Initiative?”

“A few months,” Cal said. “As much time as it takes to complete that process and for them to realize that they can’t do anything about it. They’ll be furious with you and your wife, Chancellor. I’m not sure she should stay on Coruscant after the announcement and should have security in the know until she leaves. I think, honestly, that Master Windu should handle her security until she’s safely back on Alderaan. Plus, he should go through her household and interrogate everyone that works for her the way only an old, jaded Jedi can.”

“Old?” Mace demanded, and several people laughed. “I’m just fifty-three.”

“That’s four decades older than me,” Cal said and shrugged when Mace huffed. He turned to Merrin. “Notice he didn’t protest being called jaded.”

“Well, no one’s going to buy that lie,” Merrin said with a shrug. “What happened to Dathomir during all of the upheaval in the Senate?”

“I don’t know. It was obscured, so we have to assume that whatever happens to Dathomir going forward will be the work of the dark side, and the Force is blind to the motives of truly dark Force users, as you know already.”

She nodded and focused on Queen Breha. “Are you still willing to undertake the plan?”

“Of course, Luminary,” Queen Breha said gently. “It is my great honor to help you protect your people.”

“You can call me Merrin,” Merrin said and folded her legs together in a direct imitation of Cal as she focused on BD-1. “BD, I need to find a pair of boots. Can you search the HoloNet for me if I give you a description?”

Cal laughed.

Queen Breha smiled. “My favorite shoe designer is Asha Knox. She has a beautiful new line of all-terrain boots.”

“I’m especially fond of her all-weather waterproof boot from last year’s line,” Mace said, and Padmé Amidala hummed her agreement.

“Though the military upgrade with the knife sheath was one of the best add-ons for her whole collection,” Padmé interjected and got several nods of agreement.

Jaro shook his head and shared a look with his padawan. They’d both hated shopping and had managed to get everything accomplished in a single trip.

“I’m never going shopping again,” Cal said. “If I can’t have it delivered to me or given to me by a quartermaster, I don’t need it.”

“Agreed,” Jaro said. “It was my first shopping trip in decades and my last for as long as I can manage.”

Cal muttered under his breath about jetpacked bandits, and Merrin covered her mouth to keep from laughing.