Reading Time: 154 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 20

They’d transported Merrin to the Senate in an aircar and kept the fanfare down so that her arrival happened basically in secret. The Senate chamber was full, and all of the pods appeared to be occupied. Cal wondered if he should question her about the fact that her fingers were trembling. They were seated on a bench in the Chancellor’s pod with Master Tapal, Father Aaren, and Master Yoda. Many of the representatives had started talking excitedly at the appearance of the Grand Master of the Jedi Order.

Both he and Merrin were in hooded cloaks that Master Windu had provided. He’d told them firmly to wear them throughout the whole session since they were reinforced against blaster damage. Cal had accepted it without question to encourage Merrin to do the same and she had. Though mostly, she’d been very distracted by the arrival of a crate of clothes for her to try on and pick from. She’d kept a pair of boots, a dress, and a distracting, white form-fitting jumpsuit that Cal was glad she covered up with the cloak. Since that was his problem, he kept his opinion to himself.

“Members of the Senate, as you know, we’ve come to know that Count Dooku is a Sith Lord. The Sith are corruptive and so dark that they offend the Force itself. I’m told the Force can’t even look upon the Sith. Events began to spiral as not one, but two Jedi were revealed to be spies for Dooku. But the Jedi Order responded swiftly and decisively to these threats, and even now, the Order seeks to protect and provide for the Republic as they have promised to do.

“As Dooku must be considered a galactic threat, I’ve invested in an intelligence operation to analyze his motives and use of the Confederacy of the Independent Systems to further his goals along with the Jedi Order. We’ve come to believe that he ultimately wishes to rule over the entire galaxy as an emperor.

“History tells us we cannot ever allow ourselves to be subject to the rule of a Sith Lord. They are dark Force users seeped in corruption and selfish destruction. A Sith believes they have the right to rule over us because they believe they own us and the galaxy at large. We cannot allow Count Dooku to gain any more power.”

Chancellor Organa paused as the Senate burst into applause and cheers. Cal thought that was a decent response, and the information campaign that Senator Amidala had devised to expose Count Dooku’s darkness over a series of reports throughout the week since they’d arrived on Coruscant had proven to be very successful. He’d overheard them talking about several different committees within the Senate that had dissolved once the true threat of Dooku’s nature and motivations had been revealed.

Once the crowd calmed down.

“Through the course of the investigation into Count Dooku’s operation, we came to know that he is abnormally focused on a small planet in the Quelli sector located in the Outer Rim. As we were trying to determine what was attracting Dooku’s attention to the planet, the ruler of that planet reached out to me and requested assistance from the Republic. The Luminary of Dathomir, the ruler of the planet in question, is a Force-empowered visionary.

“Through her, we have learned that Dooku wishes to kill every man, woman, and child on Dathomir due to their Force use. The population is too small to qualify to join us on their own, and while we could evacuate the Dathomiri, it would leave their world vulnerable to Dooku. I asked the Luminary why Dooku wants Dathomir.

“I was told that the Dathomir system is extraordinarily wealthy in material resources. Dooku is seeking to take over the only inhabitable planet to fund his campaign against us. We cannot allow him to gain the material resources of Dathomir. It would certainly turn the tide of the war if he could double the size of his droid army by stripping Dathomir of its material wealth.

“A survey of the system has revealed that Dathomir is extremely rich in untouched caches of gold, silver, doonium, and pyronium. Our engineers estimate there is so much ore to be safely mined from the system that it could fund the Republic for ten thousand years.”

The silence was deafening.

Chancellor Organa took a deep breath. “Please be assured I’m not suggesting we take over Dathomir and strip it of its wealth. We must be better than our enemies every single day. The Luminary of Dathomir has offered us the material wealth of her system in exchange for protection and membership to the Republic for her world. We cannot allow genocide, and I would be a fool to turn down the kind of financial security that Dathomir is offering. We could pay off our debt to The InterGalactic Banking Clan and produce our own currency that could be depended on by our citizens through the creation of a gold reserve, which the Republic has not had in 3946 years.

“And all she asks is for us to be good and protect her citizens from being murdered by the Confederacy’s droid army. Just 7,986 people live on Dathomir, which is less than half the number required to qualify to apply to join the Republic. Fortunately, I’m acquainted with a brilliant woman who has come upon a solution. I cede the floor to Queen Breha Organa of Alderaan, who has graciously agreed to sit in my seat as a representative of Alderaan today.”

Cal watched curiously as the pod holding Queen Breha rose through the Senate and into a place that gave the occupants the best view of her possible.

“Thank you, Chancellor Organa; I acknowledge your flattery and declare that you have met your monthly quota,” Queen Breha said with a smile, and many of the representatives laughed. “First, I would like to announce that I have chosen a new senator for my world, and Senator Aman Liss will join you within the week. He is an experienced, educated, and thoughtful family man whom I believe many of you will find fast camaraderie with.

“Second, for those of you who don’t know, I wish to give you a brief history lesson. I thank you in advance for your patience. In the year 1022 BBY, the Gungan leader, Boss Zemfak Hopi, reached out to Alderaan and requested that his world be colonized by Alderaan. Using an ancient law from the time of the High Republic, King Zar Organa requested that a volunteer contingent of his citizens travel to Naboo and colonize the planet to protect the Gungans from the Hutts.

“Once the population was settled and the colonization process was complete, King Zar Organa granted Naboo independence. As the world was a colony of Alderaan, Naboo automatically became a member of the Republic.” She paused when there was the murmur of conversation from the crowd. “I don’t recommend this course of action lightly as it won’t be enough to truly protect Dathomir’s people and resources from the Separatists.

“Senator Padmé Amidala of Naboo, who has helped me work and research this proposal, has further suggested that the members of the Jedi Order colonize Dathomir on behalf of Alderaan. Thus, I’ve granted every single living member of the Jedi Order, active and retired, Alderaanian citizenship. Grand Master Yoda has agreed to lead the colonization endeavor and the Jedi Order will move their base of operations to Dathomir with permission from the Luminary.

“Once the colonization is complete, Dathomir will be granted its independence and become a full member of the Republic.” She paused. “I welcome questions.”

Cal watched the pods curiously, and only one signaled with a question. Maybe the rest were too busy planning what they could propose to do with the gold Dathomir was offering.

“Senator Mothma of Chandrilla, I cede the floor to you,” Queen Breha said and focused on the other woman has Senator Mothma’s pod moved to be level with hers.

“How dire is the threat at this moment?” Senator Mothma questioned. “Do we have resources in place to protect them throughout this process? I don’t believe Count Dooku will allow this action to take place without a response.”

“I agree that a violent response is likely,” Queen Breha said. “Due to the nature of the threat, a ship is currently in orbit around the planet of Dathomir to protect the Republic’s interest and the population. I’ve been assured that the Grand Army of the Republic will protect the world and my colonists.”

Senator Mothma nodded, and her gaze flicked briefly to the pod they were in before she continued. “I’ve heard that the Luminary of Dathomir is here on Coruscant. May we hear from them in person?” She focused on the Chancellor Organa. “I believe strongly in free will, sir.”

The circumstances were overtly orchestrated, but Cal didn’t notice anyone being put off by it. After a review, he’d noted that the public meetings of the Senate were often performative, and the real work was done behind the scenes. Merrin released his hand as she stood.

She walked up the set of stairs, and Chancellor Organa pulled a platform from his podium then offered her his hand. Merrin took his hand briefly, stepped up onto the platform, and she lowered her hood. The various screens in the room revealed her to the entire Senate in an instant.

“Good morning, my name is Merrin, daughter of Nomi and I am the Luminary of Dathomir.” She paused when a pod lit. They’d reviewed the whole Senate over the week since they’d come to Coruscant, so he knew that the pod in question was full of the representatives from Iridonia, a Mid Rim planet, and the Zabrak homeworld. “I welcome questions regarding the potential colonization of Dathomir.”

The Iridonian pod rose straight up to be level with the others. All of the delegates were unsurprisingly male.

Senator Mothma stared for a moment and shared a glance with Queen Breha, who merely inclined her head.

“Luminary, will you accept questions from the delegates from Iridonia?” Senator Mothma questioned.

Merrin stared for a moment, then gave a sharp nod.

One Zabrak stood out amongst the rest as his skin was bright red, so it was clear who it was. Cal and Merrin had studied the group extensively to prepare her for their questions or protests.

“Who brought you here?” The Zabrak senator demanded without bothering to introduce himself. “Where are your parents? How dare they allow you to be endangered in such a way!”

Merrin stared for a moment. “I brought myself here, Senator Vaato.” She paused when he reared back slightly in shock. “On Dathomir, my word is law, and no one tells me where I can and cannot go.”

Senator Vaato glared. “I will be taking custody of you, and you will be taken to Iridonia, where you will be safe. It’s clear that no one on Dathomir understands how vulnerable and valuable a female child of your power is. You should’ve never been revealed in these circumstances.”

“If you wish to court war with Dathomir, then please feel free to attempt to kidnap me,” Merrin said evenly. “I’m sure Iridonia will have no problem sending a delegation to replace you and your staff. I will not tolerate your dubious care, Senator Vaato.

“I do not and never will answer to you,” she said. “I am here working on behalf of my people and world. Those circumstances should take precedence over your offended sensibilities.”

“I’m not offended,” Senator Vaato hissed. “I’m horrified by the clear lack of security. You are young and vulnerable. No one is properly taking care of you!”

Two pods immediately rose up on either side of the chancellor’s, revealing the rest of the Jedi Council and a dozen other Jedi Knights at their backs as Father Aaren and Master Tapal stood and walked to the front of the pod to stand on either side of the podium and removed their hoods.

“My future citizens, the entirety of the Jedi Council, have taken on the duty of my security, Senator Vaato. Do you have the resources on this planet to provide me with this level of protection? Exactly how many security guards would you need to hire to equal over 2,200 years of Jedi experience?

“Moreover, I think you fail to understand the fact that the circumstances on Dathomir are nothing like those on your world. My entire population is Force-sensitive as we are born, live, work, love, and play in the deepest, most powerful Force vergence in the galaxy. Another reason why Count Dooku cannot ever gain control of my world. He would destroy Dathomir just by trying to take control of the vergence, as it could not ever tolerate the darkness of a Sith. It is my duty to protect the gift the Force has given Dathomir, and I will do so until my dying breath. My age and gender are irrelevant.”

Merrin turned and focused on Senator Mothma. “Senator Mothma, you had further questions?”

“I have one for Senator Vaato,” Senator Mothma said coolly and focused on her fellow senator. “Tell me, Chrol, why exactly are you appalled by the Luminary’s circumstances. She’s hardly the first child ruler we’ve seen in this room.”

Senator Vaato squared his shoulders. “Female Zabraks are traditionally sheltered and protected by their families, Senator Mothma. I’m very concerned about the Luminary’s family situation as a result. Yes, it appears she’s physically safe, but she is emotionally and mentally vulnerable in her immature state. On Iridonia, her parents would be put on trial for child abuse for allowing these circumstances.”

Senator Mothma turned to Merrin. “Luminary, where are your parents? I would like for them to answer to the accusation Senator Vaato has made.”

“First, let me be clear on one subject. I am no more vulnerable than a fourteen-year-old male Zabrak. The beliefs perpetuated on this subject are no less than baked in sexism created around cultural breeding schemes on various worlds where my species are abundant.” Merrin squared her shoulders. “As to my parents, my father was killed in a mating challenge a year after my birth. My mother, Nomi, was murdered seven years ago by the Dathomiri witch known as Talzin in a power-evoking ritual.

“I was placed in a community crèche and only recently left when I went through a magickal maturation of sorts, and my power was revealed. I claim no family and will not accept an adoption for what I believe are obvious reasons. I have asked the Jedi Order to provide me with a mentor to teach me about the Force and the Jedi themselves. In agreeing to this, I’ve also agreed that Master Cere Junda will be my guardian until I’m the age of majority—which is seventeen on Dathomir.”

“And is Master Junda here today?” Senator Mothma questioned.

Cere stepped forward on one of the Jedi-occupied platforms. “I’m here, Senator Mothma.” She lowered her hood. “I’m honored to stand as the Luminary’s guardian and mentor as she comes into adulthood with Grand Master Yoda’s permission. She’s not a padawan and will never seek knighthood amongst the Order if that is in question.” She focused on Senator Vaato. “And absolutely no one will take advantage of the Luminary in any single way while she’s in my care. I will destroy anyone who would seek to do so.” She inclined her head toward the Jedi behind her. “And they’ll help me. The moment we begin colonization, the Luminary will be our queen, and we are honored to accept her regency.”

Senator Vaato stared in shock. “Grand Master Yoda, is this true? Has the Jedi accepted the Luminary as their regent?”

Master Yoda stood, walked across the pod, and up the stairs to join Merrin. He poked the platform with his gimmer stick. “Need another, I do.”

Merrin grinned and pulled another platform from under the podium and placed it next to her. Yoda gamely climbed up onto it.

“Not an accomplishment, being taller than me,” Yoda said to Merrin, and she laughed. He offered her his hand, and she took it gently. “Honored, indeed, to join the Luminary on Dathomir the Jedi Order is.”

Force energy swirled around them, and the entire Senate stared in shock. Cal figured most of them had never seen a physical display of midi-chlorians before.

Senator Mothma stared in the protracted silence and the Iridonian delegation lowered their pod and returned to their assigned dock without another word.

“Luminary, please allow me to express my deepest condolences regarding the loss of both of your parents,” Senator Mothma said carefully. “I propose that the Senate vote to expedite the colonization process for Alderaan to ensure that the Luminary and her people are protected from the perverse and disgusting attention of Count Dooku.” Senator Amidala’s pod rose up at that point. “I cede the floor to Senator Amidala from Naboo.”

“I second the call for a vote on Senator Mothma’s expedited colonization process of Dathomir. To facilitate the colonization of Dathomir, Naboo offers construction and medical resources. We’re also prepared to provide the people of Dathomir with a ground defense system that can be constructed and deployed within the month. The Force is the source of life in this galaxy, and the people of Naboo believe it is our duty to do all that we can to honor and protect the gifts we’re given. There is no greater gift than life.”

Pods started to light up one by one.

Senator Amidala looked at the display and cleared her throat. “With Chancellor Organa’s permission, I will create a committee to pool and organize any resources offered by member worlds for the Luminary’s review.”

All of the pods darkened as Chancellor nodded his agreement.

* * * *

“You don’t have to entertain this, Merrin.” Cal glanced briefly at Senator Amidala when she started to speak and took a deep breath to calm down. “I’m serious.”

Merrin nodded. “I know, but if we can mitigate Senator Vaato’s interest in my circumstances then we should. He’ll just continue to interfere, right?”

“Maybe, but he’s being pushy because he’s sexist and entitled. I think the only real reason female children of your species are sheltered in traditional clans on and off Iridonia is to keep them ignorant of their options,” Cal said, and ichor flashed over her skin. “Giving him an immediate audience might make him assume he has some kind of authority over you, again. Which is galling since he’s just a junior senator from the Mid Rim.” He exhaled slowly. “But ignoring the request could cause hostility. The last thing Dathomir needs is to have a fractious relationship with the Zabrak homeworld.”

“Only seven percent of the population is Zabrak,” Merrin said. “I can’t say it won’t increase in the future as others of my kind might find our situation attractive. I’ll have to develop a migration policy, right?” She turned to Queen Breha as she spoke. “May I have a copy of yours for review?”

“Yes, of course,” Queen Breha said. “I’ll see you receive a copy of everything you might need for study, and you may feel free to use any of it in part or wholesale. It is one of the benefits of colonization.”

“Do you think I should meet with Senator Vaato?” Her gaze settled on Queen Breha as she spoke.

“I agree with Padawan Kestis,” Queen Breha said, and Cal noted that several people stared at her in shock. “You shouldn’t have to tolerate his bantha dung.”

“I didn’t phrase it that way,” Cal muttered, and his master laughed from his place near the door of the chancellor’s office.

Queen Breha grinned at him. “That being said, I’ve often found that knocking someone down a peg or two isn’t without merit, and Senator Chrol Vaato needs a life lesson. For him to presume that he had the right to take the leader of another planet into his custody is outrageous. I’ll be sending a vehemently written comm to the Ay of Iridonia expressing my displeasure with Senator Vaato’s behavior.”

“Me, too,” Senator Mothma said darkly.

“Same,” Senator Amidala admitted. “I’ve already mentally outlined it.”

Queen Breha grinned at her.

Cal considered that and wondered how Senator Vaato would explain himself at home.

“What are you thinking about?” Merrin questioned.

“Just wondering how Ay Isar Badar is going to react to his nephew’s poor showing on the Senate floor,” Cal admitted. “Not only was he forced to retreat from a conversation with four females like a chastised child, but he managed to insult the governments of four different planets in the process with his overt display of sexism. I’d love to know what Queen Apailana says in her comm. There are whole forums on the HoloNet dedicated to discussing her speeches on Naboo.

“I’d write my own, but Master Tapal wouldn’t let me send it.” Cal shrugged as his master just sent him a look, and that caused a smattering of laughter. “Since I’m not allowed to start a civil war.”

“Padmé, you think I should meet with him,” Merrin said. “Why?”

“He’s an idiot,” Senator Amidala said frankly, and Queen Breha laughed. “But he has a history of being obstructionist in the Senate. He can’t do a single thing to derail our plan, and if he tries, he’ll find himself shut down repeatedly. The wealth that Dathomir brings to the table is going to make people gold-blind for generations. In fact, I heard more than one representative speculating about a golden age for the Republic thanks to your generosity. Senator Vaato, at the least, wants you to agree to his guardianship, and at most, he’s going to suggest that you allow Iridonia to colonize Dathomir instead.”

“But that…won’t work,” Merrin said. “Iridonia isn’t a founding member of the High Republic. You think he won’t realize this?”

“Not until my treatise on the process is published next month,” Senator Amidala said and smirked when Cal laughed.

Merrin pursed her lips briefly and turned to Father Aaren. “Odds on an aggressive response from him or Ay Isar Badar?”

“Isar Badar is a savvy and politically minded leader,” Father Aaren said. “The only response from him will be apologies to all parties involved. He’s probably already asked his staff to start writing them. Additionally, he’ll certainly offer Dathomir some sort of aid in the colonization process. We can discuss what would be appropriate to accept from them and what wouldn’t be. It would be a bad idea to give Iridonia a foothold on Dathomir due to conflicting social norms.”

Merrin nodded. “It’s rare for Iridonians to migrate to Dathomir due to the matriarchal nature of our society. You’ve been a pleasant surprise.”

“Thank you,” Father Aaren said. “I believe that the key to self-actualization is the ability to adapt, and I’ve been on that journey for decades.”

“Okay,” Merrin said. “Someone should go tell Senator Vaato that he may have exactly ten minutes of my time.”

“Very good,” Queen Breha praised with a smile. “Let’s put together a little display.” She turned toward her husband. “Bail, we should use your foolishly formal receiving room.”

“I’m glad I haven’t had it repurposed then,” Chancellor Organa said. “It’s embarrassing, honestly, so I’ve ordered it turned into something useful.”

Cal drifted to his master’s side as they were led into a large, ornate room that bordered on ridiculous. He watched curiously as Senator Amidala and Queen Breha guided Merrin to sit in a large chair meant for the chancellor and arranged her robe and dress so that it spread out around her. Merrin focused on him then, and he understood what she wanted without asking.

“Master,” he murmured, and Master Tapal hummed his agreement.

They moved across the room and took up a position on Merrin’s right. Father Aaren and Master Windu took places on her left. She shifted in the chair a little and huffed.

“What?”

“It’s very comfortable, but I feel like I’m sitting on Palpatine’s throne, and that’s offensive as hell,” Merrin said frankly, and everyone around them turned to stare at her in shock.

“He certainly treated it like a throne,” Senator Mothma said quietly. “You had visions of him?”

“He was a monster who believed the galaxy should belong to him,” Merrin said frankly. “I’m glad he’s dead.” She exhaled slowly and knocked her feet against the chair briefly. “We should set this thing on fire.”

Cal frowned at the chair. “Are you getting emotional impressions off of it?”

“No,” Merrin said and made a disgusted face. “I’d have already crawled out of my skin.” He laughed a little. “That corrupt old degenerate probably dragged evil around like luggage.” She turned to Father Aaren. “Make sure he gets exactly ten minutes and be prepared to make him leave.”

“Of course,” Father Aaren said and inclined his head as the doors opened, admitting Senator Vaato and two other male Zabraks who were listed as assistants in the briefing on the Iridonian delegation in the Senate Directory.

Chrol Vaato had an air of superiority about him that was extremely off-putting. He walked straight toward Merrin. When it appeared that he had no intention of keeping a respectful distance, Merrin threw out her hand and stopped his entire party in their tracks with a wave of magick. Senator Vaato hissed in shock, and his eyes went wide as he was held in place.

“Come no closer,” Merrin ordered firmly and lowered her hand after several moments of heavy silence.

“What was that?” Senator Vaato demanded.

“Watch your tone,” Father Aaren said evenly, and Senator Vaato glared at him. “I have boots older than you, boy. Disrespect me at your own peril.”

Senator Vaato cleared his throat and focused on Merrin. “Luminary, if you would explain what sort of power you just demonstrated, I would be grateful.”

“I’m a Dathomiri witch,” Merrin said. “Empowered and gifted by the Force to wield magick. I don’t have the time to educate you on the subject, nor am I inclined to do so.” She raised an eyebrow when he glared at her. “What did you wish to speak of?”

“Your plan to subjugate yourself and Dathomir to Alderaan is untenable. The Humans you’ve surrounded yourself with cannot begin to grasp the needs of your world.”

“Ninety percent of Dathomir’s population is Human,” Merrin said, and Senator Vaato’s eyes widened in shock. “You are clearly far too ignorant of my circumstances to advise me, Senator Vaato. I will be having an explicit and lengthy dialogue with Ay Badar regarding your outrageous assumption of authority over me.”

“You are being taken advantage of by the Republic, Luminary. The wealth of your world should not fall into the government’s hands.”

Merrin stared for a moment. “You mean the rocks, right? The so-called valuable rocks that you all bicker over like children? The people of Dathomir care nothing for such things, and it is not the wealth of our world. The Republic can have the gold and any other ore they think is valuable as long as they take great care of the environmental health of my world, which they’ve already agreed to contractually. Dathomir will be compensated with defensive measures and continuous protection by the Jedi Order and the Grand Army of the Republic.

“These circumstances will be discussed in the Senate after colonization begins. Today’s announcement was not an opportunity for discussion; it was a declaration of the course of action we’ve already decided upon. I signed a colonization agreement with Queen Breha a full three hours before the Senate meeting.

“The Force assures me that I’ve made the best possible deal for my people now and in the future. Dathomir will be safe, and the Jedi will make their home with us for thousands of years to come. We will grow together, learn from each other, protect each other, and even create families together. This is the future of Dathomir, and your kind are not welcome.”

“My kind?” Senator Vaato questioned. “You mean Zabraks? You’re not going to allow the immigration of your own kind to Dathomir?”

“You are not my kind,” her voice took on a musical tone, soothing and powerful, and ichor drifted over her skin. “You are full to the brim with arrogance and greed. You seek power you’ve not earned, use your familial connections to get ahead while expending as little effort as possible, and you are unfaithful both in word and deed to the unfortunate female who ended up mated to you.”

“How do you….” Senator Vaato took a deep breath. “You had me investigated? Why?”

“Don’t be silly, I wouldn’t waste anyone’s time with something like that,” Merrin said, and Senator Vaato’s face darkened. “You’re transparent and very easy to read. The Force finds you objectionable, thus you are not welcome to speak with me after this meeting is concluded. My time on Coruscant will be short, and I have many important matters to attend to.”

Cal hoped that lunch was on her agenda because he was starving.

“Iridonia will be filing a formal grievance regarding the unlawful colonization of Dathomir,” Senator Vaato announced.

Merrin stared at him.

“Nothing to say?” he prodded and smirked.

“Your time is up,” Merrin said. “Leave.”

The ugly grin fell from his face, and his gaze narrowed with fury. “You’re making an enemy.”

“If you want to be my archnemesis, you’ll have to wait your turn,” she retorted. “Father Aaren.”

“The Luminary is finished speaking with you, Senator Vaato,” Father Aaren said. “You won’t be granted another audience, as there is no need to waste her name with your inanity.”

Senator Vaato turned to Queen Breha. “I’m serious about the grievance.”

Queen Breha stared at him briefly before turning to her husband. “Bail, I’m starving. Shall we eat?”

“We shall,” Chancellor Organa said and motioned to the pair of security troopers in the back of the room. “Please escort Senator Vaato and his assistants out, Vax.”’

“I don’t appreciate your wife ignoring me, Chancellor,” Senator Vaato snapped.

“The Queen of Alderaan did not agree to speak with you this afternoon and has a full calendar while she’s on Coruscant. If you wish to speak to her, you’ll have to make an appointment,” Chancellor Organa said evenly. “The current wait time is 145 standard days, and you’ll have to travel to Alderaan for the meeting.”

Cal exhaled slowly to keep from laughing as Chrol Vaato stormed from the room.

“I hesitate to ask you if he’s going to be a problem,” Chancellor Organa said as he focused on Cal.

“The Force promised not to make me fall asleep in public again,” Cal said, and the chancellor laughed. He turned to Merrin. “Is Senator Vaato a problem?”

Merrin left the chair with a frown then settled down on the floor as she pulled her orb seemingly out of thin air. Cal sat down with her and was startled when everyone else in the room did as well. Ichor drifted over her face and swirled around the orb. She reached out with her free hand, and he took gently in his own. The ichor swirled around the orb darkened, and Merrin’s eyes fluttered shut.

“What….” Queen Breha trailed off and took a deep breath as she shared a look with Senator Amidala.

“Are we doing a ritual?” Senator Amidala questioned, clearly excited by the prospect.

Merrin smiled as her eyes opened. “Not exactly, but we can do one in the future. You have enough Force energy to be a passive participant. It wouldn’t be dangerous for you.” She focused on the orb. “I’ve been learning to induce visions through a form of magickal communion. It’s complicated, though, so I hope that when I begin my apprenticeship with Master Junda, we can focus on Force meditation first.”

Cal squeezed her hand a little when she looked in his direction and nodded. The ichor slid up his arm and enveloped him. His eyes fluttered shut despite his best intentions, and images started to form. He realized he was getting some sort of feedback from Merrin.

Suddenly, they were in a large room with a high ceiling, and Senator Vaato was speaking quickly. The Zabrak he knew to be Ay Isar Badar looked furious, but he didn’t understand what was being said because they were speaking Zabraki. He’d heard the language on audio files he’d downloaded from the HoloNet but had yet to learn much of it. Ay Badar drew a vibroblade and gutted his nephew with a hissed word. Cal reared back in shock and only barely reacted quickly enough to catch Merrin’s orb as it fell from her hand in her shock.

“What….” Cal took a deep breath. “Merrin?”

“I’m okay,” Merrin said and put a hand on the orb as he held it, and it disappeared. “That was unexpected.”

“What’s happened, Padawan?” Master Tapal questioned carefully as he cupped his shoulder.

Cal resisted the urge to lean into his master’s touch. “Senator Chrol Vaato won’t…Ay Badar is going to kill him for something. I didn’t understand what was being said.” He focused on Merrin. “Did you?”

Merrin nodded and focused on Chancellor Organa. “Ay Isar Badar will kill his nephew for failing to acquire me as an asset. Ay Badar decided to kill him while we were still on the Senate floor. He’s furious because he hoped to claim Dathomir after the war and the Separatists had gotten rid of the native population. What he doesn’t know is that a genocide on Dathomir would make the planet unlivable in the long term. It would destroy and corrupt the Force vergence to the point that the planet and whatever animal life survived would fall into a permanent feral state. Living there would fast become a nightmare for an off-worlder.”

“Should we warn him?” Cal questioned.

“No,” Queen Breha said firmly as her husband rose from the floor. She took the hand he offered and grasped most of her dress in her fist as he helped her stand. She released the dress and smoothed down her skirts. “It would be dangerous for the Luminary for it to be revealed that she’s capable of the kind of magick she just revealed to us. Force visions are one thing, but she actively sought that information out with her magick. She’s already a target, and there is no need to increase her threat profile to protect a corrupt and incompetent individual who threatened her.”

“Agreed,” Senator Mothma said. “Everyone accepts that Force visions just happen. But what she did was not anything like a traditional vision—she clearly sought out future information. It was a foretelling, and individuals who can do that on my world are kept secret for their own safety. Though we’ve not had someone so talented in prophecy in many hundreds of years.”

Cal stood as his master did and gently brought Merrin with him. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Merrin questioned and turned to him. “Is it just to allow him to walk into his own murder?”

Cal considered how to answer the question. “It’s a genuinely gray area. We have information that we traditionally would not have because we sought to verify if he was a threat to you. What we learned instead is that he’s going to be executed by his sovereign for failing to handle the situation with you properly by their standard.

“Should we reveal this information, it could delay his death for months or years, but he would have to run. I would assume that Ay Badar would respond very negatively to his nephew running away and would want to know why. He’d probably find out that you warned Senator Vaato, and it would increase your threat profile. It could further endanger Dathomir.

“So, the moral question becomes—is Chrol Vaato as important as the lives of every single person on Dathomir? We can’t balance the scale on this issue, and you owe him no sort of consideration. He’s going to be punished for failing to subjugate and gain control of you. I would say that it’s not my place to determine if the situation is just or not. He’s probably already received comm recalling him to his homeworld. If he’s fool enough to believe he’s going to survive his uncle’s ire, then that’s on him.

“Moreover, Ay Badar is probably sitting on his ridiculous throne, trying to figure out how he can claim the Zabraks on Dathomir as his own citizens and retrieve them. So as their leader, your first duty is to them and not to a spoiled, lazy, and incompetent male that would see you used up and discarded like so much trash within a couple of decades.”

Merrin stared for a moment and nodded slowly. She turned to Senator Amidala. “I shouldn’t find this whole Righteous One thing attractive, right?”

“I’m not the one to answer that question,” Senator Amidala said wryly and received a few laughs.

For his part, Cal just wished his face wasn’t as red as his hair. He turned to his master for support and was rewarded with a smirk.

BD-1 shifted on his shoulder. “It’s time for the children to eat lunch.”

Saved by the beep, Cal thought. He was going to order BD-1 some more spare parts to add to his collection.

“I’m starving,” Merrin admitted and turned to Chancellor Organa. “Cal said your synth has a different bantha burger recipe than the ones in the temple. Can we try it?”

“Of course,” Chancellor Organa said warmly. “Come this way.”

Chapter 21

Jaro paused in the kitchen entryway and studied Merrin, who was seated at the table with a cup of tea in both hands. It was hours before anyone was due to be up.

“Are you okay?”

She shook her head and pulled her legs up into the chair.

Jaro ordered himself some tea from the synth and sat down at the table with her. “How can I help?”

“I know I shouldn’t care at all what happens to Chrol Vaato,” Merrin murmured. “Everyone else is content with his death because they find him objectionable. And he is very objectionable. Cal, rightly, balanced the good versus the bad and advised me to make the decision that serves me and my people. I need that perspective from him, so I’m not upset with him over it.”

Jaro nodded. “Okay.”

“It’s just that, in the vision, Ay Badar said something just before he killed his nephew that I keep thinking about.”

“What was it?”

“Denadre,” Merrin said, and the word flowed gently off her tongue as Zabraki often did for her kind. It was a truly beautiful language.

“You’re welcome,” Jaro translated. “Can you tell me the exact circumstances?”

“He shoved a vibroblade straight into Chrol Vaato’s body, leaned in, and hissed the word in his face like he was furious,” Merrin said. “It was one of the most malicious things I’ve ever seen. I don’t want to make more enemies, Master Tapal. I have more than enough already.”

“No child should have enemies,” Jaro said gently, and she nodded. “I’m sorry for it, but I’m also grateful for the sacrifice you made for the galaxy, Merrin. How can I ease you?”

“I don’t know,” Merrin confessed. “I realize I can’t help Chrol Vaato and that he doesn’t even deserve my concern. I’ve seen that kind of avarice on a man’s face before—in a dream. I knew I couldn’t trust him with myself or with my people.” She shuddered. “After I left Dathomir in the dream, I traveled on my own for a while and helped with the Hidden Path. It was a network of safe houses we used to protect Force-positive people and others persecuted by the Empire. I was foolish, and I idealized the organization to an unhealthy degree.”

“Did someone harm you?” Jaro questioned carefully and pushed down his own anger at the thought as deeply as he could.

“He tried,” Merrin said. “At first, I didn’t understand what he wanted. No male had ever put their hands on me without permission before that moment. I killed him for his transgressions, and the leader of that particular part of the path tried to lecture me for my overreaction. After that, I moved my part of the operation to Jedha so I could be close to Cere. I spoke to her about what happened, and she helped me deal with the emotional hurt that I had to process.

“It was difficult to trust anyone for a while, but I was grateful that I’d moved past it by the time I was reunited with Cal. We were both young and hurt when we first met—torn and damaged by the childhoods we’d barely escaped from. It was easier to find solace in each other as adults, each with a host of different experiences. We built a good relationship. It was strong, and I felt like we could do anything together.”

“How did you kill the man who touched you inappropriately?”

“With my knife in the gut.” She paused. “The same way I killed Savage Opress.”

“Basically, the same way that Ay Badar killed his nephew in your vision,” Jaro said, and Merrin took a deep breath. “It must have been difficult to be reminded of not one but two traumatic and personal kills today. You were already under a great deal of stress so it’s not surprising that you’ve got a little anxiety.”

“Anxiety,” Merrin muttered and scrunched up her nose. She drank some more tea. “I don’t want to have anxiety. How do I get rid of it?”

“I usually make Cal meditate. Would you like me to wake up Cere? She’s just down the hall.”

Merrin shook her head. “She’s had a very busy couple of days, and she helped Trilla set up her own apartment after the Senate meeting today. We’re going to formalize our apprentice contract as part of the Republic’s compensation package. They’re offering Dathomir a lot, but I asked Senator Amidala to make sure that the language of the contract wasn’t unfair to Cere in any single way.”

“The financial security you’re offering the Republic outstrips whatever they give your people, Merrin.”

“They’re going to call it the Dathomir Reserve,” Merrin said. “And they’ve already set up a legal situation called a trust to protect the environment and to disallow commercial mining on Dathomir and any other planet in the system which has been declared my domain. Chancellor Organa told Senators Mothma and Amidala to do everything possible to ensure a future chancellor can’t change the arrangement with Dathomir without something called a deep majority vote by the Senate. What does that mean?”

“It means that all of the Core worlds have to be in agreement with the change and there must be a ninety percent majority of the rest of the Senate as well. It would make it virtually impossible to overturn the deal without destroying how the Senate works.”

Merrin nodded. “That makes me feel better about contract stuff. I’m not anti-technology, but I do want to preserve as much of Dathomir’s natural beauty as possible. I don’t want commercial operations on the planet. Private companies tried that before, but we made it impossible for them to operate. They took the fact that we didn’t have a formal government and no relationship with the Republic as permission to take our resources.”

“How did you contact the Republic without a comm system of any sort in orbit?” Jaro questioned because he was curious and had been since he’d heard about the first message.

“Savage Opress had a small personal starship,” Merrin said. “I received it in reparations for his attack on me. I had someone take the ship to the nearest HoloNet repeater and send the message when I needed it done,” Merrin said. “The situation on Dathomir was getting stressful, and I needed…Cal.” She took a deep breath. “Thank you for bringing him.”

“Of course,” Jaro said and took a sip of tea. “I’d never want to keep the two of you apart, Merrin. There will be times when I have no choice, but please never think that I’m doing it on purpose or that I disapprove of the relationship you had in the future. You both deserved whatever comfort and love you could carve out for yourselves.”

“It was hard to live in the shadow of the Empire,” Merrin said. “And hateful. It was so hateful, and sometimes, it seemed like it would just be easier to give up. Maybe that’s why the Empire was so successful. Too many people thought it was easier to give up or to join in. It was better if the Empire didn’t consider you a problem or a potential asset.” She frowned into her cup and set it aside. “In the crèche, I would have tea when I couldn’t sleep. I hoped it would help.”

“But it hasn’t,” Jaro said.

“No, it hasn’t,” Merrin wrapped her arms around her legs and huffed. “It’s the same kind of tea—deychain. I didn’t know it grew all over the galaxy.”

“Perhaps it’s not about the tea,” Jaro suggested. “Did the crèche matron talk to you about what was keeping you awake?”

Merrin shook her head. “She taught me how to make the tea when I was first placed in the crèche and left me to it. Many of the adults around me were afraid to get close to me because of Talzin. They didn’t want to earn her ire because they believed my mother had done something to deserve what was done to her.”

“Were you made to watch her sacrifice?” Jaro questioned.

Merrin shook her head. “Not even Talzin was that cruel.” She paused. “Well, perhaps she was that cruel, but she was smart enough not to do anything that would cause the other Nightsisters to lose respect for her. Her desire for power was understood. Her sending her male children away was understood. But torturing a female child would’ve been beyond the pale. It’s why they turned on her when she tried to kill me—it was a violation of their code. Child abuse is not tolerated on Dathomir.”

“Good,” Jaro said. “Is there a particular reason why? Beyond the fact that it is an immoral thing to do.”

“The magick of Dathomir is exacting,” Merrin said after some thought. “And sensitive. It was learned thousands of years ago that the Force vergence on the planet would diminish greatly if the children were mistreated, specifically.”

“So, you’re saying the Force manipulated the populace into treating children well.”

“Yes, of course,” Merrin said with a shrug.

Aaren entered at that point and sat down at the table. He yawned and robbed his forehead. “Which one of you is unable to sleep?”

“Me,” Merrin said. “I didn’t mean to wake you both.”

“Well, you woke him, and the lack of body heat woke me,” Aaren said, and she laughed. “Is this general stress, or is it about Chrol Vaato?”

“A little of both,” Merrin said. “I know I shouldn’t care about him and protecting myself is paramount to the success of Dathomir’s deal with the Republic. I can’t put his life above the safety of my entire world.”

Aaren nodded. “But?”

“In the vision, as Ay Badar killed him, he said denadre to Chrol Vaato, and I don’t know why. I was so shocked and put off by his actions that I dropped my orb, which cut my connection to the scrying spell.”

Aaren exhaled slowly, and Jaro wondered if he should’ve retrieved the man from the start of the conversation. “Luminary—”

“Merrin,” she interjected. “Please.”

“Merrin,” he said after a protracted silence. “Iridonia is a harsh world. What you saw in your vision was a mercy killing.”

“Mercy?” she repeated, and Jaro took a deep breath at the horror that spread over her little face. “How is being disemboweled with a vibroblade a mercy?”

“He could’ve been put on trial for his failure and staked out in the desert to die over a period of days. I’ve heard of executions lasting weeks because they’d give the criminal just enough sustenance to survive to prolong the torture as long as possible,” Aaren said bluntly, and tears welled in her eyes. “He’s failed in his duty, as Ay Isar Badar sees it, and it’s why he insisted on a private meeting to try again. I didn’t want to say this in front of everyone in the meeting, but Chrol Vaato knows exactly what he’s going home to.

“A mercy killing is the best he can hope for because then it remains a private family matter. It’ll protect his wife and children from social persecution,” Aaren explained. “They’ll be allowed to keep his material wealth to support themselves. His wife will be well-positioned to marry again as she won’t be stained by association. If he runs, they lose everything.”

“And if he’d said nothing during the process?”

“He’d have been punished for that failure instead,” Aaren said. “The only way he survived this scenario is if you immediately surrendered yourself to his care and allowed him to return to Iridonia with you. He’d have given you over to Ay Isar Badar, and you’d have been compelled to sign an agreement where Ay Badar would rule over Dathomir as a territory.

“Then you’d have been placed in the royal crèche until you were mature. At which point, you’d have been offered a carefully curated selection of potential mates and encouraged to have as many children as possible in the hopes of creating powerful Force users. One or two, over the years, would be sacrificed to the Jedi Order, and the rest would be trained in private on the planet for their own purposes.”

Merrin made a face. “That makes me want to go there and just take over the whole planet.”

Jaro laughed.

Cal appeared at that point and offered her his hand. She took it, and he pulled her from the chair. “You two are not going to help her go back to sleep like this.”

Jaro watched Cal pull her into the common area, and they settled on the sofa in front of the HoloTV. He turned it on and, after a few moments, made a selection. The music of Squid Lake filled their apartment. Merrin curled up against Cal and let her head rest on his chest. He wondered how often they’d done the same thing in the future.

* * * *

Merrin was frowning as she read on the datapad she’d been presented with. The room was quiet around her in a way that Cal thought was a little off-putting. She didn’t seem to be concerned by the silence or the fact that everyone in the room was staring at her.

She put the datapad on and folded her hands on top of it as she focused on Chancellor Organa. “I have a problem that I didn’t…consider an issue until I was reading the section regarding the rendering of aid to the Republic’s internal security forces.”

He smiled. “What? Are you harboring a criminal on Dathomir?”

“Yes,” Merrin said frankly, and the older man’s mouth dropped open. “I wish to tell you a story about a child stolen from Dathomir.”

“I’m listening,” Chancellor Organa said.

“Just a year after she was born, she was taken from Dathomir by a criminal who believed the Nightsisters owed him. He chose his payment in the form of a slave. She remained his slave until he was killed. Eventually, a Jedi found her and trained her as his padawan. They were together many years before he was killed as well. Eventually, she fell into the hands of Count Dooku and his master where she was entrenched in the dark side through their manipulation. Then, they both turned on her in their power struggle, and she was left for dead after the betrayal.

“Finally, after nearly three decades, she came home to Dathomir, and the day I was declared Luminary, she got down on both of her knees in front of me and swore herself to my service. Even now, she’s on Dathomir, doing everything she can to prepare the clans for the day that Dooku sends Darth Maul to destroy us.

“Her path home to Dathomir left her damaged and heartbroken. Her grief radiates off of her just as much as her relief at finally being back amongst her sisters.” Merrin took a deep breath. “Her name is Asajj Ventress.”

Cal winced when several members of the Jedi Council made soft, shocked sounds.

“Asajj is alive?” Master Kenobi questioned. “Truly?”

“Truly,” Merrin said. “And I know that she’s wanted by the Republic’s internal security forces for acts she committed while in the service of Dooku. Dathomir has become her sanctuary and a solace to her very damaged soul. Some of you may doubt that she’s turned from the dark side, but she gave herself wholesale into my service, and the Force tells me I can trust it. The Force tells me that I can trust her, and I do.”

“There are ways to mitigate the circumstances,” Master Windu said, and everyone focused on him. “It could be said that Asajj Ventress has defected to the Republic. If she’s willing to give us all the intelligence she has related to Dooku and his operations, then I believe that the Council would be more than willing to rescind our capture order for her.” He shared a look with Yoda, who nodded. “If she has truly renounced the dark side, then her fortitude and strength is to be commended, not punished.”

“What crimes has she committed?” Queen Breha questioned.

“She merely made war on behalf of her faction, Your Majesty,” Master Kenobi said. “In that, she’s no more guilty of crimes than I am. There are no criminal charges pending with the Republic Office of Criminal Investigations. She was a very successful general for Dooku, and I was surprised when I heard that he turned on her and ordered her executed by her own troops. It was believed that she’d died during the Battle of Sullust until we started to hear rumors about a failed attempt on her part to kill Count Dooku. But we didn’t have any proof.”

Merrin took a deep breath. “She came back to Dathomir at that point and sought assistance from Talzin. But when Talzin attempted to kill me, it was Asajj who reacted first to protect me. She told me that any desire for revenge paled in comparison to her duty to me, and I believe her.”

Cal appreciated the fact that Merrin hadn’t brought Asajj Ventress up to him, as it would’ve divided his loyalties to an untold degree. He just offered her a nod when she glanced in his direction.

“How often have children been stolen from Dathomir?” Queen Breha questioned.

“Due to the fact that we’re all Force-sensitive and were outside of the Republic, our world has been a target for many generations,” Merrin said. “I could not tell you how many children were taken, bartered, or outright stolen from Dathomir. Eventually, some of them returned, but none of them returned undamaged. My people have been misused for generations, Queen Breha. I cannot tell you when the last time it happened, but I can tell you who the current target is.”

“You,” Queen Breha said.

Merrin nodded. “And others are thinking about Dathomir and wondering exactly how unique I am. They’re wondering if the witches of Dathomir always create powerful children and if they can take control of those children in any single way. We know Ay Badar will target me going forward, at least until I’ve had enough of his agents killed for their transgressions, and he begins to wonder if I’m worth the resources. Once he realizes he cannot capture me, he’ll focus on trying to kill me as that is the way of males such as he.”

“The Republic doesn’t tolerate that kind of hostility between member worlds,” Chancellor Organa said firmly.

Merrin nodded thoughtfully. “Well, private little wars get fought all the time—inside and outside of the Republic. That’s just…how things are. I suppose after the war with the Confederacy, the Republic should refocus their forces on peacekeeping and conflict resolution.” She paused. “And the eradication of slavery.”

“Well, we can’t control what happens outside of the Republic,” Chancellor Organa said.

“You say that like the funds being used to create and maintain slave syndicates don’t come from Core worlds,” Merrin said. “It might be most prevalent in the Outer Rim, but that doesn’t mean it begins or ends there. The wealthy seek to remain wealthy, and many of them don’t care how they accumulate their credits.”

“I’ve always had a great deal of respect for the Force,” Chancellor Organa said quietly. “Yet, as I sit here, I find myself resenting it for the burdens it has placed on two children.”

“With education comes the knowledge that no life is truly without burden,” Merrin said and focused on the datapad. “I’d like to see Asajj pardoned for any action she took while she was in the service of Count Dooku before I finish the membership process. I want to be able to tell her that she’s finally free when I return to Dathomir. I owe her more than my life, Chancellor Organa. She reacted first when Talzin tried to kill me, and maybe the others wouldn’t have acted so quickly without her. Everyone on my world would probably already be dead if Talzin had killed me.

“In return, I will give you my word that she will surrender all information she has concerning Count Dooku, his operation, and the Confederacy’s droid army. That being said, BD-1 thinks the Jedi Council should figure out how to reprogram their army and take them over.” She smiled briefly at Cal and BD. “I think it’s a good idea.”

“There are no bad droids, just bad code,” BD-1 said, and Cal exhaled slowly as everyone turned to stare at him.

“What?” He shrugged. “He’s not wrong. We already know the droids are controlled in some fashion or another by governance programs. Maybe it’s time we start working on hijacking those things instead of destroying them.”

Beside him, his master sighed. “No piracy.”

“Maybe just a little bit of piracy,” Cal suggested and laughed when several members of the Council looked more interested rather than disapproving. “And besides, if it’s sanctioned by the government, is it really piracy?”

“It’ll certainly be more fun if we consider it to be,” Master Kenobi said.

* * * *

“Thank you for arranging the two beds in the guest room,” Cere Junda said as she accepted the tea that Jaro offered.

“It’s not a traditional relationship, but she is your ward,” Jaro said. “I have respect for that relationship even if many will not.”

She made a face. “They’ll learn one way or another.”

Jaro laughed. “How is Trilla settling?”

“Oh, she’s so thrilled with her tiny apartment and the job she’s taken in Mace’s operation. She practically bounced as she explained what she would be doing.” Cere smiled briefly. “And that, in itself, is such a relief. Her happiness means everything.”

“What happened to her in the future?” Jaro questioned.

“She was…captured by the Empire because of me. I failed her, Jaro, and after being tortured for weeks—I revealed her location.”

“I hope you know that many would’ve folded much faster,” Jaro said quietly.

“You’d have died before revealing Cal to those monsters,” Cere said. “And you’d have never turned to the dark side. I did both. I live with that and will keep it close to me for the rest of my life so that I never forget what my weakness wrought. It’s not a punishment, Jaro, but a way of making sure that I never make that mistake again.” She took a deep breath. “As to her fate, she fell to the dark side after being tortured and became an Inquisitor. She hunted and killed Jedi for years before we came face to face again. I thought…maybe I could reach her and bring her back to me. She hesitated to attack me, and Darth Vader murdered her for it. Cal and I barely escaped him in the aftermath of her murder.”

“Cal knows who Vader was before he turned to the dark side,” Jaro said. “He doesn’t think anyone else should know. But…if Vader ever emerges, then Cal is the one to ask the questions you’ll need to ask.”

She nodded. “I agree that no one should know. Palpatine corrupted so many, and it’s not fair to blame them now for what won’t happen. I know the intimacies of that better than most.”

“How is the situation with Barris Offee going?”

“Mace transferred her out of the temple and onto a space station we’re using to help refugees from the war, where he has an asset keeping an eye on her. She’s getting a first-hand look at exactly what is happening in the field, and she certainly needed the lesson. It’s easy to be judgmental about the circumstances if one isn’t seeing the results of the enemies’ disgusting actions day after day.”

“And the civilian conspirator?” Jaro questioned.

“I’d like to see her arrested for planning to murder her own husband,” Cere muttered, and Jaro nodded. “Since she hasn’t done anything yet, he was offered a job on Bracca, and they left Coruscant over a week ago. Putting her on a planet at risk of being attacked on the regular by the Separatists might teach her something as well. Mace has also implemented a procedure to check employees for explosives coming into the temple, externally and internally. It’s a passive scan that precious few people know about.”

“Good,” Jaro said. “Have you heard anything regarding our migration to Dathomir?”

“Most everyone is stupidly excited at the idea of having a homeworld,” Cere admitted. “I don’t think I realized how much it would mean to some of them. Trilla’s already planning to go home on her vacation and wanted to know if she should get camping equipment.”

Jaro laughed.

“And the younglings? The crèche is apparently bursting with excitement,” Cere said. “They’re reading about the planet and planning excursions. I’m considering whether or not I should take Merrin to see them.”

“Yes.” Merrin appeared in the kitchen doorway and tugged Cal into view after a few moments. “I’d love to visit the crèche. Cal said he grew up there. Is it too late to go now?”

“Yes, they’ve just finished dinner and will spend an hour burning off the energy they have left before going to bed,” Jaro said as he checked his chronometer. “A visit from you would ramp them up so much that the matron would never get them to go to sleep.”

“I’ll contact her in the morning and ask if and when you can visit,” Cere said. “It shouldn’t be a problem, but if any of them are ill or stressed out, she might decline a visit. It won’t be about you but about the general health of the children in the crèche.”

“Yes, of course,” Merrin said earnestly.

“How do you feel about the meetings from today?” Cere questioned.

Merrin sat down at the table, and Cal joined them after retrieving tea from the synth for them both.

“I think Master Kenobi is precariously close to turning to a life of piracy and personal rioting,” Cal said, and Jaro laughed. “And I can’t blame him.”

“I believe I’ve accomplished my main goals,” Merrin said as she picked up her tea. “And I think that we’ve made Chancellor Organa think about the future in a positive way when it comes to the Republic’s purpose and actions. We can’t be certain that he’ll remain in office long enough to make all the changes we’d like…but I think it was good.”

“The Force will take care of it, I think,” Cal said and took a sip of tea. “She realizes that being more proactive regarding such things will protect us just as much as anything else she can do. I think that she was deeply wounded in the future by the Empire’s actions. The loss of so many of us in such a short period of time was just too much.”

“Yes, I agree,” Cere said. “It was difficult to exist as a Jedi in that part of my life for many reasons. But the Force felt diminished and….”

“Lonely,” Merrin supplied. “And desperate. It was like she was clinging to us, but even then, it wasn’t going to be enough. Maybe it was more about the Emperor and his abuse of anything and everything around him. It was like the whole galaxy was immersed in his hatefulness.”

Aaren meandered into the kitchen, got himself a cup of caff, and stared pointedly at them. “I refuse to be a part of this family unit if all four of you are going to do is sit around a table and take turns depressing each other.”

Jaro laughed.

Cere took a sip of tea and stared pointedly at Aaren. “You’ve known Jaro intimately for decades, so you must be used to his habit of sulking into his caff.”

“Do I have a tell?” Aaren questioned. “Something I need to work on?”

Cere shook her head. “I had no idea the two of you were together and wouldn’t know now if we weren’t sharing quarters. The two of you are much more relaxed in private and it’s reasonable, considering. I imagine a lot of people will assume that Jaro has seduced the Luminary’s advisor for political reasons if it comes out.”

Jaro grimaced as he was sure she was right. “Don’t talk about seduction in front of the children.”

Cal laughed, but then he cleared his throat. “I’ve been dreaming about something here and there. The last dream gave me a name.”

“What name?” Jaro questioned.

“Masana Tide,” Cal said and took a deep breath as Cere’s eyes closed briefly. “She was captured by the Empire, tortured, and mutilated until she turned to the dark side. They called her the Ninth Sister, as Inquisitors weren’t allowed to keep their names. They weren’t allowed to have anything but their mission. I fought her twice, and in the second fight, I had to kill her.”

“Are you concerned she might turn again?” Jaro questioned.

Cal shook his head. “I’d just like to meet her.”

“It won’t be difficult,” Cere said. “She’s here in the temple and has been since the first dream. After your kidnapping, she took over temple security. Of course, during the kidnapping, she bunkered the crèche and planted herself right in front of the only vulnerable entrance. She didn’t move until you were recovered, and the situation was announced to be contained.”

“Do you want to meet her now?” Jaro questioned.

“Yes, I don’t want to go to sleep again until I do. I’d rather not have to watch myself kill her again,” Cal said quietly. “For some reason, it really hurt to kill her. She was malicious and so dark…but I wanted to save her. I wanted to bring her back to us. But I had to give up on her in order to survive.” He cleared his throat. “So, I think speaking with her and seeing her as she should be will help.”

Jaro stood and put his cup in the cleaner. “I’ll go speak with her. I’d rather not send a comm.”

“Thank you, Master.”

He stopped by his desk to check the temple directory and noted that Masana Tide was in the same section as they were. It wasn’t necessarily surprising since they were in long-term guest quarters, and she would be considered the same. So, the walk took just a minute, and he hesitated only briefly before pressing the chime.

Masana answered and stared for a moment before inclining her head thoughtfully and stepping back. She stepped back to allow him entry.

“It’s not often that I’m the shortest person in a room,” he said wryly, and she laughed.

“No, I’d think not.” She closed the door. “How are you, Jaro? It’s been a decade or more since we’ve had a chance to speak.”

“Yes, because you keep darting out into the wilds of space to fight slavers,” Jaro pointed out.

She shrugged. “It’s a calling.”

“A good one and I miss it,” Jaro said and tucked his hands behind his back. “I’m told you returned to the temple recently.”

“Yes, I felt…compelled to come back. I was one of many. We were told that the situation was contained. I asked to stay here for the time being, and I took over temple security following the kidnapping of your padawan. How is he?”

“Recovering as well as anyone can expect,” Jaro said. “He killed two people.”

“He’s so young,” Masana said sadly. “I’m sorry, Jaro.”

“Me, too,” he murmured. “I trust that you’ve heard that he’s been declared Ever Light.”

“Yes, it was a stunning but relieving thing to hear, considering the kidnapping and the trauma of killing at such a young age. We both know how dangerous that can be for a Force user.”

“Yes,” Jaro agreed. “He’s also earned the unfortunate distinction of being called the Righteous One by Master Yoda.” He focused on her. “He has prophetic dreams.”

Her mouth dropped open briefly, and she shook her head. “I trust you’ve come to me for a specific purpose?”

“Yes, he wants to meet you.”

“Me, specifically?” Masana questioned.

“Yes, you, very much specifically,” Jaro said. “He asked for you by name.”

“He’s just thirteen, correct?”

“Yes, as of four months ago,” Jaro said.

“I’ve not been on Coruscant during his lifetime, Jaro. And I’m not well-known. How does he know my name?”

“He dreamt of you,” Jaro murmured and watched shock drift over her face. “His request isn’t…exactly urgent.”

“What do you mean?”

Jaro paused as he considered how to explain the situation without revealing too much. Masana Tide was very smart and intuitive. They had a long and storied history, having worked together in the Outer Rim for decades before the murder of Yaddle had brought him back to the Core. He knew he could trust her, but Cal’s words regarding her eventual fall to darkness bothered him.

“He’s had the same dream more than once. The most recent gave him a name and he’d rather not sleep again until he’s spoken with you. The Force is clearly prodding him, though it’s not aggressive or urgent. That being said, you did feel compelled to return to the temple shortly after his first dream—a dream I can’t reveal without his permission that changed everything for me.”

“Let’s go then,” Masana said. “I’d not want to keep the boy up or make him have the dream again.”

Jaro nodded. “Just…take care with his size. He’s small and is put off when people loom over him.”

“Of course,” she said with a nod.

“How tall are you these days?” Because the problem with Dowutins was that they never stopped growing. A really old one could be every bit of fourteen feet tall and two tons in weight. Fortunately, Masana was quite young for her species and not that big.

She grinned as they left her quarters. “Eight-feet-one inch.”

“Braggart,” he muttered, and she laughed richly.

Chapter 22

“Master Masana Tide, please meet my padawan, Cal Kestis and this is the Luminary of Dathomir,” Master Tapal said.

The Force rushed inside of him, and Cal pressed a hand against his sternum as the energy surfaced on his skin. Merrin moved closer, her hand clenched in his.

“Cal?” Merrin questioned.

“I’m okay,” he said quietly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Master Tide. Will you sit with us?”

“Of course,” she said and sat down on the sofa with a look in Master Tapal’s direction. “I’m honored to meet you both. I didn’t realize that the Luminary would be present as well.”

“My apologies. I tend to forget that most people don’t realize they’re basically a package deal if they’re on the same planet,” Master Tapal said.

Merrin laughed as she joined Cal in the chair closest to Master Tide. He shared a look with her and took a deep breath as he then turned to stare at Masana Tide.

“Your master told me that you had a dream about me,” Master Tide said. “I don’t know what that means for me.”

“I want to tell you about my first dream,” Cal said. “It’s not something you should discuss with anyone else without permission from the Jedi Council.”

“You have my word,” she said.

“The Force tells me that I can trust you to keep my secrets,” Cal said simply, and her eyes widened briefly. “She also wants you to know that should you ever need her, that you will find the deepest solace in her embrace and that death is not the end.”

She stared for a moment and glanced around the room. “You’re a lot, kid.”

Cal laughed. “Yeah, I get that. In my first dream, Chancellor Palpatine betrayed the Jedi Order and had the clone troopers murder us. In the end, less than 150 Jedi survived what would come to be called the Purge. The ones that weren’t killed were destroyed in one way or another through his actions. He took over most of the galaxy and declared himself emperor.”

“Why?” she questioned in shock.

“Why does a Sith Lord do anything?” Cal questioned and shrugged. “He was evil and selfish. The Jedi Council didn’t plot his murder, for the record. What happened to him was a very organic event that he had coming.”

Master Tide cleared her throat. “I wish I could doubt what you just said to me, but your words feel like a fundamental truth. It must have been a very difficult dream. I’m sorry for the terrible things you witnessed.”

Cal nodded. “It lasted years, and I did things in the dream that will probably haunt me for the rest of my life. But I’ve accepted the burden of that as part of my service to the Force. You were in my dream.”

“I hesitate to ask how,” she admitted. “Did I fall?”

“Yes,” Cal said and took a deep breath. “And I don’t know if that is a worry for you or not.”

“It is,” Master Tide admitted. “It always has been. My species is known for many things, Padawan Kestis, and peace is not one of them.”

“You can call me Cal,” he said. “I learned in the dream that it took the Empire many weeks to break you. They had to torture you daily to turn you to the dark side.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and she took in a deep, ragged breath as she wiped her eyes. “My apologies.”

“Emotions are valid,” Merrin said. “Suppressing or ignoring them isn’t good for your soul.”

Master Tide stared at her for a moment. “I want to stick you in my pocket and keep you safe.”

“I’d probably fit,” Merrin said wryly, and everyone laughed.

“How can I…protect myself from turning again?”

“You’ve never turned to the dark side, Master Tide,” Cal said. “It happened in a dream in circumstances that won’t ever happen. The Purge won’t happen, and the person who tortured and turned you doesn’t exist. He never will exist. I can’t say you’re safe from the dark side because none of us are. But, please don’t take this information on as a part of your personal history.”

He reached out and touched her right hand. “They took a lot from you to make you into a tool for the Empire. But the Empire doesn’t exist and never will the way it did in the dream. I think Count Dooku has the potential to create an empire of his own, but it would be…very different, if no less terrible.”

Masana nodded and focused on his hand. “They took my hand…and my leg.”

“How….” Cal took a deep breath. “My apologies. Are you feeling some kind of resonance from me?”

“Yes, since I returned to Coruscant, but I didn’t know where it was coming from.”

He pulled his hand away. “Is it painful?”

“Not exactly. It’s like an echo, but it’s fading even as we sit here and speak. Maybe that’s why we needed to meet.” She rubbed her right hand and flexed her fingers. “What would it mean to seek solace within the Force?”

“If you were to ever fall into the hands of the enemy and they attempted to turn you—seek a deeply meditative state,” Cal said. “The Force will take you.”

“She’ll kill me,” Master Tide clarified.

“She’ll welcome you home and keep you safe,” Cal corrected. “Your body will die, but the most important part of you will live on within the Force as those in the light are meant to. It is the path forward for all Jedi, Master Tide, as we must do our part to protect the Force from the Sith’s influence. In joining with her, in death, we will become part of the universe. We will return to the cycle of life and death in this galaxy that preserves the Force.”

“It is a strange kind of comfort,” Master Tide said. “But contrary to my nature.”

“You’re a fighter,” Cal said with a nod. “But some battles aren’t worth fighting, and that’s a lesson I learned the hard way. We have to be careful, Master Tide, in the chances we take with our hearts.” He put his hand on hers again. “Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she murmured. “I do.”

“I think you need a padawan,” Cal said.

Her eyes widened slightly. “I’ve not really ever considered taking on a student.”

“We’ll be colonizing Dathomir, as you know,” Cal watched her nod and glance toward Merrin. “Perhaps a shift in duties would suit you as the people of that world would greatly benefit from your protection. There are many children on Dathomir and all of the younglings from Coruscant will be transferred there. I expect that all of the younglings going forward will be taken to Dathomir for their own protection. Growing up in a Force vergence will be very good for them, and I believe it would be good for you to spend some time on the world as well. It’s not like your homeworld, but it would allow you to reconnect to the natural elements of the Force.”

She looked down at his hand on hers. “I feel the Force moving in you. I haven’t felt the Force moving like that in me in many decades.”

“You’ve served far afield for just as many decades, have you not?” Merrin questioned.

“Yes, Luminary.”

“Then you should come to Dathomir with me when I go home,” Merrin said. “You can explore and find yourself again. Do you have citizenship on your homeworld?”

“No,” Master Tide said. “I was…cast from the nest by my mother shortly after my birth because of my Force sensitivity. My father didn’t have the means to take care of me until I was actually ready to be on my own, but his own brother was a Jedi Knight, so he reached out to him, and my uncle retrieved me. He brought me here to the crèche on Coruscant when I was mere days old. Thanks to them, I had a very safe childhood, which is uncommon for my species. And due to superior health care and bacta treatments, I have very good eyesight, which is unheard of for my species.”

“It must set you apart,” Merrin said, and Master Tide nodded. “I don’t have horns.”

“What?” Cal questioned with a glance toward Father Aaren as he pulled away from Master Tide and sat back a little in the chair.

“Horns,” Merrin repeated and waved a hand around her own head. “I’m utterly bereft of them, as are nearly all female Zabraks born on Dathomir. It’s a quirk of breeding with Humans for many generations. While our genetics are dominant, it’s clear that Humans have influenced us in different ways. Zabrak females from Iridonia often have as many horns as a male and sometimes no head hair at all.” She smoothed her shining gray hair back. “I’ve heard comments about the lack of horns from off-worlders.”

Cal thought that was extremely rude. “This shade of red hair is so rare amongst Humans that you might ever meet another with it that is natural. Unless they’re not entirely Human.” He focused on Master Tide. “Since you were taken from Dowut when you were so young, you aren’t a citizen of that world.”

“No, I’m not. In fact, they disavow all Force-sensitive individuals as soon as they’re recognized. It’s considered a deeply unnatural circumstance. Like many Jedi, I do welcome citizenship that is not attached to my duty to the Order, and I look forward to seeing Dathomir.”

“There is a Dowutin female at the academy,” Master Tapal said. “She’s due to leave any time now. So far, she’s proven to be even-tempered and thoughtful as a student from all reports.”

“Saux Cress,” Cal said. “I’ve known her since she was brought to the crèche. I don’t know how long she was on her own, but she’s always fun to play and train with.” He paused. “She is worried that her size will make masters wary of taking her on as a student and expressed disappointment that Master Tapal was searching for a new padawan before she’d be available to receive offers. If you’re compatible, expressing your interest early would ease her emotionally and lower her stress.”

“I didn’t realize a female of my kind had come to the temple,” Master Tide said. “I will arrange to meet her. Thank you for the suggestion. If I embrace a different sort of duty going forward, then a padawan would be welcome in my life, and perhaps it is time.” She flexed her hand. “The resonance is gone.”

“I’m sorry it took so long for this situation to advance,” Cal said. “I should’ve searched for you. There can’t be that many female Dowutins in the Order.”

“All things come as they should,” Master Tide said gently. “And I’m grateful for your time this evening.”

“May the Force be with you, Master Tide,” Cal said.

“And with you.”

* * * *

Jaro paused in the doorway of Cal’s bedroom. The boy was sitting on the bed with his datapad. “Did it help?”

Cal set aside the device and nodded. “Yes, it was exactly what I needed.”

“Did you wish to speak of your interactions with her?” Jaro questioned, and Cal nodded. Jaro entered the room and shut the door behind him. He sat down on the end of the bed as Cal pulled up his blankets and took a deep breath. “Tell me about the first time you saw her.”

“I was on Bracca. My friend Prauf and I had been working on a problem for extra pay. We fell, and I had to use the Force to save his life. It caught the attention of the Inquisitors due to an Imperial droid witnessing it. Two Inquisitors showed up—Second Sister and Ninth Sister.” He took a deep breath. “Trilla Suduri and Masana Tide. They were very successful Inquisitors.”

Jaro sighed. “I hate how low the Empire brought so many. I’ve known Masana since the crèche. We were in the same initiate clan all the way through the academy and competed for Yaddle’s attention. I won by a very slim margin.”

Cal nodded. “We were on a train after the accident, and it was stopped by the Imperials. They were both part of the team hunting for me. Second Sister murdered Prauf, and I revealed myself. I was so angry and hurt by it. He was my friend, and he just trying to distract them so I could…hide.” Cal rubbed his face briefly. “Second Sister was the one to catch up with me, and I fought her. It was the first time I’d used the lightsaber since crash landing on Bracca. But I carried it always, kept it close as we both grieved you. Your kyber crystal trauma bonded with me. I’d have probably never parted with it if it hadn’t gotten broken on Dathomir during an altercation.

“The second time I saw Ninth Sister was on Kashyyyk. She was vicious, dark, and far too gone to be saved. I knew it but wished it was different. That was when she told me she was once a Jedi and I realized just how corruptive the Empire’s influence was. At her size, she’d have had to have been a Jedi for decades, and yet she’d been brought so low. At least with Trilla, she was never even knighted.

“I was on Kashyyyk searching for information left behind by Master Cordova, and I connected with the rebellion. They were making a real effort there, and I ended up helping them free some Wookiees from an Imperial prison. The second time I went to the planet, the Ninth Sister found me, and we fought. I thought I killed her in that fight. I would later find out different and that’s when I also discovered who she used to be. It was devastating to know that such a good Jedi had fallen so far. She’d spent her entire knighthood fighting slavers and protecting people.”

“It’s difficult to imagine it,” Jaro said quietly.

“I came to find out that a senator on Coruscant had information that could aid the rebellion. So, I faked my capture with a team of rebels and allowed myself to be presented to him as a prisoner. The plan went awry shortly after the senator realized I wasn’t actually his prisoner. Looking back on it, I have to wonder how much of the plan was sabotaged by Bode Akuna, who was part of the team. Regardless, I encountered the Ninth Sister for the final time during that mission. I had to kill her to escape. It was a hard fight, made harder by the fact that most of my team was dead by that point. In the end, only Bode and I escaped Coruscant.”

“How many people did you kill, Cal?” Jaro questioned gently.

“I don’t know,” Cal admitted. “I made every effort to kill Imperials on sight and often did after I left Bracca. Hundreds of clone troopers, easily. They were all part of the Imperial machine and that meant they were a threat to me. I could say I didn’t have a choice, but that was necessarily true. I could’ve hidden again and probably succeeded for long periods of time. But once I got…once I was free of Bracca it was like I needed the fight. I needed to make them pay for what they’d done. I’d have never stopped fighting—not as long as the Empire existed.”

“And that’s why you agreed to time travel,” Jaro murmured.

“Yes,” Cal said. “None of us were living and survival isn’t enough, Master. The Empire was malignant both in concept and execution. I wanted better for everyone. I wanted…you to live. I wanted the Jedi Order to exist. Maybe I made a selfish choice, I don’t know.”

“It was the least selfish thing I can imagine,” Jaro corrected. “You had so little, Cal, but you sacrificed all of it to save the galaxy with no thought to reward. Even now, everything you do seems to be for the good of others. I can’t think of a thing you’ve done for yourself. Is there anything you need to be changed? Is there anything you want for your future that seems impossible at this point?”

“I already have everything I need,” Cal said. “You’re alive, and Merrin remembers me and our promises.” He leaned forward a little. “She said we can have a baby when we were much older.”

“Much, much older,” Jaro agreed, and Cal laughed. “And I’m pleased for you. Have you remembered your relationship with her in full?”

“Pretty much,” Cal said. “The Force is still keeping the…stuff from both of us. Merrin thinks we’ll remember that we’re older, as well.”

“Do you have any questions about intercourse?” Jaro questioned. “The age of consent for your species is seventeen, and I expect you to adhere to that legal limit.”

“Of course, Master,” Cal said immediately. “Merrin’s too important for me to make a mistake with the intimate parts of our future relationship. And I don’t think I have any questions. We had a whole class at the academy about sexual congress. Though a third of it was dedicated to physical compatibility and I learned things about Hutts that I can’t get out of my head.”

Jaro laughed. “You and me both.”

“At least there were no images since no one in my class was compatible with a Hutt,” Cal continued, and Jaro sighed. “Can you imagine?”

“No, I cannot,” Jaro said firmly. “And I have no desire to.”

Cal laughed and slouched back against his pillows. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Jaro questioned.

“I know I’m a lot more than you signed up for,” Cal said quietly. “I’m going to try really hard not to be a big burden.”

“You are not a burden,” Jaro said firmly as he stood. “And I’ll never consider you one. I was honored when you accepted me as your master, and that has not changed, Cal. We’ve been on the same path since day one of your apprenticeship, and I’ll walk that path with you every single day of your life with no regrets.”

Cal wiggled down into his covers and hugged a pillow close. “It’s selfish, but I’m glad I won’t have to share you with new padawan. I wonder if your previous padawans sort of resent the ones that came after them?”

“I hope not,” Jaro said gently and adjusted the boy’s blankets. “As I’d make war for every single one of them.”

Cal yawned. “We should let them know that we have their backs and not just for bail.”

Jaro watched his padawan drift off to sleep without another word. The sleep looked natural, so he left the boy’s room in favor of his desk. Maybe he would send the others a message reminding them that he was available if needed, even if it was just for a conversation.

* * * *

“This time together has spoiled me,” Aaren murmured against Jaro’s shoulder as he pulled his lover close.

“Agreed,” Jaro said in amusement. “You’ll need four or five blankets to make up for the body heat you won’t be stealing from me.”

Aaren laughed and threw an arm over Jaro’s chest as they settled together on the bed. “I’ll make sure my bed on Dathomir is big enough for us both if you decide to visit.”

He knew he should discourage such thinking, but their future circumstances were going to be so much different than what he’d always assumed. Because of Cal’s attachment to Merrin and the migration of Jedi to Dathomir—it seemed like it would become his homeworld.

“I don’t know how long the war will last,” Jaro said. “But I’ve asked Obi-Wan to make sure that my focus remains on protecting Dathomir. He agrees, and I’ll probably get a few cruisers under my command as well. Chancellor Organa is insistent that Dathomir receive as much protection as possible without impacting our ability to fight the war.”

“You don’t have to let me down gently,” Aaren said quietly.

“I’m not,” Jaro protested. “I’m just saying I can’t say how often I’ll be around to fill that big bed you’re thinking about getting on Dathomir, but I do want a place in your home. There won’t be another padawan during Cal’s lifetime, but I’m not opposed to raising children with you if that’s possible.”

Aaren lifted his head and stared. “Truly?”

“I love you,” Jaro murmured and trailed his fingers over horns that no longer felt like a stranger’s. “I always have. I worry that having a public relationship with you will make people question your identity.”

“As far as official records go, I don’t even have the same genetics that Eeth Koth had,” Aaren said, and Jaro blinked in shock. “When Cere Junda creates an identity, she doesn’t cut corners. How she managed to change my records with the Republic was left undiscussed, but there’s nothing connecting me to my former life. If we take our time, then I don’t believe anyone would question a relationship.”

“What about your lightsaber?” Jaro questioned. “You aren’t carrying it.”

“It was destroyed in the aircar explosion,” Aaren murmured. “And I can’t say it didn’t hurt a lot to lose it, but I won’t build another. I don’t need it.”

“You need a weapon,” Jaro protested roughly.

“I didn’t say I wasn’t armed,” Aaren said with a laugh. “I just can’t carry a lightsaber anymore. Merrin made me a weapon. She made weapons for every member of her council as a gesture of acceptance.”

“Like hers?”

“Yes,” Aaren said. “And I started bonding with it shortly after she gave it to me. It’s been an interesting experience, but I adjusted quickly, and it isn’t all that different than a saberstaff that I preferred.”

Jaro felt like it was one sacrifice too many. He started to speak, but Aaren slipped on top of him and pressed their mouths together. After a few sweet moments, he started thinking about turning them over so he could work Aaren out of his pajama bottoms. But the Force strummed gently in his chest, then there was a distinct thudding sound that seemed to radiate through the temple.

“What….” Aaren rolled off of him and hit the light switch.

There was another thud, which was followed quickly by his door chime getting hit multiple times. Jaro left the bed and went to the door. Both children were standing in the hall, eyes wide with shock.

“Something is very wrong,” Cal said. “We don’t know what it is.”

“Get dressed,” Jaro ordered. “Merrin, put on the armor that was made for you and the robe that Master Windu gave you.”

“Yes, sir,” she said and released Cal’s hand as she darted for her bedroom.

Cal closed the door as he left to get dressed.

He activated his comm and sent a signal to Cere, who’d accepted an invitation to have dinner and a late evening with someone. Jaro hadn’t gotten the details.

“I’m on my way,” she said breathlessly. “I’m four minutes from the temple. I don’t see anything on the security feeds, and nothing unauthorized has achieved orbit on the reports. I’ve sent a signal to the Mantis, so Greez will be on standby.”

“Understood,” Jaro said and shed his sleep clothes after closing the comm.

He dressed quickly, and when he left his bedroom, he found the children sitting side by side on the sofa. BD-1 was projecting a map of the temple in front of them. Jaro watched Cal’s fingers drifting over the various parts of the temple’s floor plan with a frown. Aaren joined him.

“Cere will be here very soon,” Jaro said.

Merrin nodded and exhaled slowly. “The Force is upset.”

“Too upset to speak?”

“The aspects are divided about the right course of action,” Cal murmured. “But the Unifying Force is furious.” His hand trembled as he shifted the map image to show the front of the temple. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Jaro questioned.

“We have to….” He stood. “We have to go right now!”

“Are we being attacked?” Aaren questioned as Cal stood and ran for the door.

“No, it’s not dangerous for us. BD-1, what’s the temperature outside?” Cal questioned.

“Near freezing at five degrees above zero.”

Fortunately, his padawan was short, and at best speed, he wasn’t going to outrun Jaro. Cal hit a stairwell and used the Force to navigate them so quickly that it was kind of breathtaking, but Jaro kept up easily. They hit the bottom floor at a dead run and from the noise in the stairwell, Aaren and Merrin weren’t far behind.

The atrium was practically empty despite the building activity in the structure. The Jedi on security came to alert as they approached the doors.

Jaro grabbed Cal’s arm carefully just short of the boy pushing open the doors as he’d darted around both security guards far too easily. He’d be having words with them. “Easy.”

“She’s…she’s going to die.” Cal reached for the door, and Jaro released him.

“Who?”

“The baby.” Cal pushed open the door with the Force, and Jaro followed. The two Jedi on the doors came with them. “Where is she?” He hurried down the stairs. “It’s too cold! We have to find her!”

“Get some lights!” Jaro ordered, and one of the guards rushed back into the temple.

BD-1 came out of the temple at that point and darted down the stairs, beeping furiously about being left behind. Cal picked him up without a word and kept looking. The guard appeared with lights, and Jaro took two.

“Cal!” He tossed the light toward his padawan, and the boy reached out for it in the same moment. It slapped into his hand.

There was nothing on the stairs. Merrin and Aaren joined them. He pointedly ignored the looks he got from both of them.

“You move fast for an old man,” Merrin said tartly and stalked off toward Cal as he gaped at her.

Aaren shrugged. “She’s not wrong on either point.”

“Here!”

Jaro rushed toward his padawan as the boy knelt near the control panel of a stationary droid recycler.

“The baby is in the trash?” he demanded. He reached out and ripped off the top of the recycler and Cal stopped trying to open the panel.

Merrin plucked the tiny infant up instantly, hands glowing with ichor. She wrapped her robe around the baby, and Aaren picked the girl up when she looked toward him. They hurried back into the temple to find the atrium quite full of people. Aaren set Merrin down as Cere darted across the room toward them.

“We found a baby in the droid recycler,” Merrin blurted out and offered Cere the baby with a trembling mouth.

Cere sank to her knees in front of the girl, and everyone grew quiet around them as she opened the blankets and touched the baby. “She’s alive.”

“I’ve got a doctor coming,” Mace said as he joined them.

Yoda came to stand beside Cere and frowned. “Rejected this child was.”

“What?” Cere questioned.

“A young woman came to the temple this afternoon and tried to give us the child,” Adi Gallia said. “But the child has no Force potential, so we gave her a list of resources for the child’s care and sent her away.”

“Forward her name to the appropriate Security Forces office,” Mace said, and Adi nodded.

Jaro suspected that no one would find the desperate young woman. Cal knelt down beside Cere and held out his hands. Cere gently transferred the baby into them.

“She’s…okay,” he said thoughtfully. “The father is dead.”

“Yes, she said as much,” Adi said quietly. “We can’t accept her, Cal. Our mandate within the Republic won’t allow it.”

“I know,” Cal said. “It wouldn’t be fair to surround her with Force-sensitive children when she has no gifts of her own. But she’s special, nonetheless. I don’t know why exactly, but the Force was very upset that she might die. What’s her name?”

“Her mother only gave the name of Amilynn,” Adi said. “She refused to give her full name or the name of the dead father.”

“The dead father was a Jedi,” Cal murmured, and Jaro felt the Force agree with the assumption. “I don’t think she was born here, so the mother probably came here on a transport, discovered the father was dead, and tried to get rid of the baby out of desperation.” He brushed a pale blond curl from the baby’s forehead. “How old is she?”

“She said sixty-two standard days,” Adi said as she joined Cal and the others on the floor.

Everyone in the atrium sank down to their knees as Jaro gave in and sat with his padawan.

Yoda touched the baby’s blanket. “Special how?”

“I don’t know,” Cal admitted. “Master?”

“I’m here,” Jaro said and touched the boy’s back. “What’s the Force telling you?”

“I think we need to contact the chancellor.” Cal shifted the baby slightly and let her rest against his body as Force energy started to flow out of him and into the baby.

“He wouldn’t normally handle an abandoned child,” Mace pointed out quietly.

“I mean, I think this baby is meant for him and his wife,” Cal said and glanced toward Merrin. “Don’t you think?”

“Yes,” Merrin said and put her hand gently on the baby’s stomach. Green ichor joined the energy that Cal was projecting. “This is Queen Breha’s baby now. It’s what the Force wants. The legal issues are for others to deal with.”

* * * *

Breha’s eyes were wide with shock and wet with tears as Jaro explained how the child had been found in the recycler near the temple. Her mouth trembled, and she pressed her fingers against her lips.

“I can’t fathom such a thing,” she said hoarsely, and Bail wrapped his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Is she okay?”

“We’ve had a doctor examine her, which was a bit of an ordeal since both Cal and Merrin refused to stop touching her. They insisted she needed them, and no one was really prepared to argue with them. They’re in my apartment now, taking turns holding the baby, whose only name we have is Amilynn. She is uninjured and in good health despite the abandonment.”

Breha smiled briefly. “It’s a pretty name.” She turned to her husband. “Can we?”

“Darling, of course,” Bail said quietly. “Of course.”

Shortly, he escorted them into his apartment. Cal was seated on the sofa with the baby, and Merrin was hovering in front of him with a bottle, which she was shaking gently.

“Maybe she’d prefer cold milk,” Merrin said. “Some babies in the crèche on Dathomir prefer it cold, especially the Human ones.”

“I just don’t think she’s used to having a bottle at all,” Cal said. Breha sat down beside Cal, and he turned to her. “We had a terrible situation with a diaper.”

She smiled. “May I?”

“She’s yours,” Cal said and offered her the baby immediately. “The Force says so.”

“Bless the Force,” Breha murmured as Cal left the sofa. Bail joined his wife, and they both just stared.

Merrin wiggled the bottle. “She’s hungry.”

Breha took the bottle. “She’ll have to make do with a bottle for the moment, but I’ll be able to breastfeed her within the day as my body adjusts to the circumstances. It’s a quirk of Alderaanian physiology.”

“That’s great,” Merrin said and sat down on the coffee table. Cal joined her. “She’s special.”

“Yes,” Bail said and touched the blankets with trembling fingers. “She doesn’t have any Force potential?”

“None,” Jaro reported. “It’s why her mother was denied when she came here earlier in the day. It doesn’t happen often as most parents desperately wish to keep their own children no matter their circumstances. We haven’t checked her genetics for the father yet, but the Force tells us he’s dead.”

“All recyclers should be updated to send out an alert if a living being is placed in them,” Merrin said, and Cal nodded his agreement.

“If it had started…compacting…it would’ve killed her.” Cal frowned and BD-1 shifted on his shoulder.

“I’ll see that the manufacturer is instructed to send out a programming update,” Chancellor Organa said as he stared at his new daughter. “I need to contact my legal advisor and get the process started. She knows we were looking to adopt.”

“We can just take her?” Breha asked. “Right now?”

“She’s in good health, and even if we find the mother, the child can’t go back to her,” Jaro said. “We could send her to a Coruscant Security Forces facility, and she’ll be placed in the system for orphaned children.” Breha grimaced. “But in this, Breha, you can use your husband’s position to get exactly what you want, when you want. He won’t be asking for anything immoral or illegal. No one is going to tell him no.”

“Aren’t there others waiting for babies?” Breha questioned, but her gaze had already returned to stare at the baby, who was fussily nursing from the bottle.

“No, most orphans in the system on Coruscant merely age out of government care,” Bail said quietly and winced when his wife turned to glare at him. “It’s not a problem I was aware of until recently, darling. I’m working on legislation to fix the situation and I will be tasking senators with managing the children of various species.”

“The Human children will come to Alderaan,” Breha said, and she stared pointedly at her husband until he nodded. “All of them, starting as soon as possible and any other child in the system that can’t be placed in a home with their own species that can thrive on our world will come, too.” She took a deep breath and focused on the baby once more. “And you can put Mon Mothma in charge of the child welfare committee you will form to make sure that the children get the best possible start. The duty will suit her. It should include abandoned children on all Republic worlds and children orphaned by war.”

“The Senate might protest the expense.”

“If they have a problem with the expense they can submit their complaints to me,” Merrin said and smiled when they both looked at her. “It’ll be interesting watching them justify their selfishness regarding how the Republic spends the wealth of my world.”

“I adore you,” Breha said with a grin, and Merrin laughed.

“Besides, an influx of credits from the Dathomir colonization will mean better management of resources and allow for the proper collection of taxes,” Cal said as he stared at the baby. “I read a report on the HoloNet that said the Republic is collecting less than half the tax revenue owed due to war and lack of proper infrastructure. Chancellor Palpatine appeared far more interested in being evil than collecting taxes. Which is weird because aren’t taxes evil?”

“He clearly planned to take everything eventually, so he didn’t care so much about the lack of tax collection,” Jaro said, and they all nodded.

Cere came into the apartment at that point. “She left on an unregistered ship within minutes of abandoning the baby.”

It was clear she was furious.

“Any information on her identity?” Bail questioned.

“No, and none of the security cameras got a good image of her face as she wore a hood. We’ve commissioned some images based on the memories of those who interacted with her. Adi Gallia had the most contact and produced an image that everyone agreed was very good. We did a search, and she’s not a registered citizen of any Core world. We can run the baby’s genetics, figure out who the father is, and trace his movement to her world of origin based on how old the baby is.”

“She must have been very desperate to do what she did,” Breha said as she set aside the bottle and shifted the baby gently to her shoulder.

“Oh,” Merrin said and darted away. She came back with a towel from the kitchen, which she passed to Breha. “She’ll make a mess when she burps.”

Breha took it with a smile. “Thank you, Merrin.” She focused on Cere. “Will the Coruscant Security Force pursue her?”

“Yes, Your Majesty, because she’s guilty of attempted murder,” Cere said flatly. “Child neglect, child abuse, and child abandonment. After she left the temple, she lingered for hours just out of the security zone. It was clear she had no intention of availing herself of the resources she did have. She could’ve put the baby on the steps right in front of the doors. Instead, she put her in the droid recycler. It was malicious as if she was punishing us for not taking the child.”

Bail nodded. “Do we need to take her somewhere to have her genetics tested?”

“No, we already have a sample from when she was tested for Force potential,” Cere said. “Congratulations to you both on the adoption. If you’ll excuse me, I need to make some more contacts.” She gave Jaro a nod and left again.

“Will you keep her name?” Cal questioned.

“I….” Breha shared a glance with her husband. “It seems inappropriate to change her name.” Bail nodded. “So, she’ll be called Sela Amilynn Organa, princess of Alderaan.”

Merrin smiled. “It’s a big name, but I think she’ll grow into it just fine.” She took Cal’s hand as she sat. “We should be her hold-parents.” She focused on Breha. “If you agree, of course.”

Breha’s eyes were wide as she shared a look with her husband. “Merrin, we’re truly honored. Do you understand what the role would mean on Alderaan?”

“The Force says it would mean that we’d get to visit her, bring gifts, and become her guardians in the event that you and Chancellor Organa are killed or unable to care for her,” Cal said. “The Force says she’ll watch over Sela because…in another life, she was the instrument of hope for the entire galaxy.” He took a deep breath. “Her father is dead because of actions taken due to the content of my dreams. I feel responsible for her circumstances. It would be a relief if you’d allow us to be her hold-parents.”

“Then we are agreed,” Bail said with a smile.

“I’ll gift her first weapon,” Merrin announced, and Breha’s eyes widened. “It’s a tradition on Dathomir.”

“When she’s much older,” Breha said with a laugh. “We are a peaceful society, but we understand the need for self-defense.”

Chapter 23

“Iridonia has informed Chancellor Organa that a new delegation has been sent to Coruscant. They’ll be introduced at the next session.”

Cal made a face and averted his gaze as the Jedi Council digested that news. They’d been told about Merrin’s scrying spell and the decision that was made. Master Tapal had also provided some more context that he’d gotten from Father Aaren without revealing the source of that information.

“Padawan Kestis, I’d like to speak with you about your concerns regarding Captain Wilhuff Tarkin,” Master Piell said. “I’ve investigated him and can’t find anything out of the ordinary about the man. In fact, I’d go so far as to say that he is disappointingly average in every single way. My only real concern, in the past, was that Sheev Palpatine wanted him promoted to the rank of Admiral within the Republic Navy. He was a favorite of Palpatine, which I know we should consider a problem across the board.”

“He doesn’t think the Jedi should be leading the war effort,” Master Skywalker interjected. “A position, I admit, that I agreed with before.”

“What changed your mind?” Cal questioned curiously.

“You did,” Master Skywalker said. “I realized that we fundamentally can’t trust the Republic with the safety of our Order or with the Force itself. I can’t say that our oversight will do a damned thing in the long run. But men like Tarkin could literally run amok if given the power to do so. He is average, and it galls him.

“Given room and power to maneuver, he’d be no better than Palpatine when it comes to seeking control of every single thing within his reach. Ultimately, he resents the Jedi Order, and while we can’t run around ruining our enemies for fun, we must take him seriously as a future threat.”

“In my dreams, he was a merciless….” Cal trailed off and took a deep breath. “Tarkin was a monster who served Palpatine and the Empire with ferocious loyalty. He oversaw mass executions of civilians and was prone to murdering officers who served under him for any perceived failure. He favored brutal methods and subjugation. Tarkin would kill thousands of people to teach a single person a lesson. He’s always been this way, was raised to be this way and Palpatine’s influence only made things worse.”

“We don’t need to make an enemy out of him,” Master Windu interjected, and they all focused on him. “We just need to neutralize him and prevent him from gaining power. Right now, he’s doing his job, and that’s enough. Bail Organa isn’t going to give Tarkin the time of day due to the fact that they have fundamentally different belief systems.”

“Wilhuff did admit that he was disappointed by the choice the Senate made,” Master Piell said. “He doesn’t think that Bail Organa has the stomach for war.”

Cal made a face.

“You don’t agree?” Master Piell questioned. “He’s a pacifist.”

Cal nodded. “But pacificism doesn’t equal cowardice, and that’s the implication of Tarkin’s statement. I find Bail Organa to be one of the bravest and most just people in the Senate. He loves the Republic and respects the Force. It was the best possible outcome we could’ve had as far as replacing Palpatine. I hope he remains chancellor for as long as possible because he’s a very good man.” He checked his chronometer. “I promised the Luminary that I’d escort her to the crèche so that she could meet the younglings. May I be excused?” He focused on his own master as he spoke.

Jaro inclined his head. “Keep me informed of your location.”

BD-1 beeped his agreement as Cal stood and left the room at a trot.

“He hates being in here,” Obi-Wan said with some amusement, and Jaro hummed his agreement. “I think this whole thing has soured him on ever being on the Council.”

“Agreed,” Anakin said. “Me, too. So don’t ever ask.” He huffed when several people laughed. “I mean it. I realize none of you mean it to be, but being in here can be very stressful—unnecessarily stressful.”

“Why?” Jaro questioned.

“Personally, I’m reminded of Qui-Gon and the Council’s rejection of me. No child should be discussed in such a way in front of them. It was, in retrospect, cruel and unnecessary. I didn’t really understand anything about the Jedi Order, the training that Qui-Gon wanted to offer me, or what any of it really meant. All I did know, by the end of that meeting, was that the Jedi Council thought I was inferior and unworthy of joining the Jedi Order.”

“But that’s not….” Mace trailed off and sighed. “Perspective is everything, I suppose. I wonder how many children have left this room feeling as if they were inferior or an outright failure.”

“Far more than you’d be comfortable with,” Jaro cautioned. “I don’t suggest you go around asking those kinds of questions. It would just make you furious, and frankly, you’re probably already taxing the abilities of the mind healer that was assigned to deal with you.”

Mace glared briefly and slouched back in his chair.

* * * *

Cal released Merrin’s hand as they left the lift with Cere. He had very fond memories of the crèche when he lived there and when he’d volunteered as an academy initiate. His matron had retired shortly after he’d turned ten, and he wondered where she’d settled. Maybe she’d come to Dathomir as he’d like to see her again.

The moment they entered the courtyard where the crèche occupants were having a morning class, Cal got hit in the leg by a tiny body. He looked down and smiled.

“Grogu.” He picked the baby up and held him close. “You’re still super tiny. When are you going to grow up, huh?”

“Master Yoda says that Grogu will not be ready for the academy until he’s at least ninety years old, and he’s currently twenty-two,” a woman said as she approached them. “Padawan Kestis, I’m pleased to see you again.”

“Master Lyric,” Cal said with a smile. “You’ve left the academy?” He turned to Merrin. “This is Master Celestia Lyric. She taught meditation and history at the academy when I was there.”

“I’ve joined Master Sariah Korrin in the crèche as we prepare the younglings for the migration to Dathomir,” Master Lyric said. “We’ve been asked by Mother Kagan to accept their small crèches as well. Apparently, there are thirty-six orphaned children on Dathomir in a communal crèche. We agreed, of course, and look forward to having them with us.” She smiled at Merrin and rocked gently on her feet.

Cal nodded. “This is the Luminary of Dathomir and Master Cere Junda, Matron.”

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Celestia,” Cere said. “It’s been a long time.”

“Yes, I heard good things about your Trilla,” Master Lyric said. “I knew you’d be a good match with her, so I was glad to hear that the two of you came together for an apprenticeship.” She focused on Merrin. “You’ve made a good choice in mentors, Luminary. Cere has a lovely path within the Force and her spirituality sets her apart in her generation.”

Merrin nodded. “She feels very respectful and safe within the Force when we interact with one another.” She looked around the courtyard. “Will you build something like this on Dathomir? I think the other children will love it.”

“Yes, of course, we’ve already arranged for off-world construction of most of the materials so building our facilities on Dathomir will move rather quickly. We want to provide safety for all of the children. It’s our job to teach them to embrace the Force and prepare for the academy. Then, they’ll move onto their future path after that. Some will become knights, and others might join the corps. The Force will lead them.” She smiled. “Well, come meet the children. They’re being so patient.”

“Except for this one,” Cal said in amusement as he focused on Grogu.

“Ah, well, we just do our best to keep him out of trouble,” Master Lyric said. “He’s too far too young for most of our activities. Recently, he’s started to meditate.” She paused. “Though, he often pretends to do it as well to avoid us.”

Merrin laughed, and Grogu reached out for her, so she took him. “Come on then, Baby Yoda, you can introduce me to your friends.”

Cal mouthed the words Baby Yoda to Cere, and she laughed as they both followed Merrin across the grass.

* * * *

Jaro joined Aaren on the observation balcony a few dozen feet above the courtyard that was attached to the crèche facility. Cal and Merrin were seated on the grass with a bunch of small children.

“How are things going?”

“Very well,” Aaren said. “The children are clearly pleased to interact with them both, and Cal seems to know many of their names.”

“He volunteered in the crèche after he went to the academy,” Jaro said. “Though I’ve been told that not many students do.”

“No, they focus very intently on their own education after they leave the crèche, and I can’t say it’s always to their betterment. Cal is a very well-rounded and thoughtful student.” Aaren leaned on the railing.

“Is it difficult to be here? To see so many people who’ll always believe you’re a traitor?”

“I thought it would be, but no.” Aaren hummed slightly. “In fact, I feel free for the first time ever in my life. My responsibilities are immense, yes, but I chose each and every single one of them. I love you. I don’t have to pretend otherwise. I don’t have to set an example or find one reason after another to not take a padawan.”

Jaro had never questioned his lover about that choice and wasn’t going to start at such a late date in their relationship. He focused on the children. They were tossing a ball around in the air with the Force. Well, Cal and Merrin were tossing it, and the younglings were giggling and trying to use the Force to push it away from them.

* * * *

“I think I hate the Senate building,” Cal said casually as the aircar came to a stop. “Which I know is probably misplaced resentment, but I don’t think I care.”

Beside him, Merrin hummed her agreement.

“I’ve submitted an application to join the Dathomir colonization,” Senator Amidala blurted out from across them, and they both turned to stare at her. “My queen has officially asked Queen Breha to accept me as a citizen of Alderaan and she agreed. Today is my last day as a senator for Naboo. I’ll be introducing my replacement this afternoon.”

“That’s…good,” Merrin said. “Then you can be my senator unless you’re thoroughly quit of the career, which I wouldn’t hold against you.”

Senator Amidala smiled. “I’d be pleased to become the senator for the Quelli sector. In fact, I look forward to it. I’ll be able to appear via holo in the Senate during my post-maternal phase.”

“Do you wish to give birth on Coruscant or Dathomir?” Merrin questioned. “We’ll have a medical ship in orbit, so a doctor will be available to you. If your babies are born on Dathomir then they will be magickally vested. It wouldn’t prevent Jedi training, but it would increase their potential, Senator Amidala.”

“Anakin and I discussed it. We’ll finish the gestation and give birth on Dathomir,” Senator Amidala said. “And please, going forward, both of you can call me Padmé.”

That was going to be weird, but Cal always did his level best to respect people’s wishes regarding such things, so he nodded, and Merrin did as well after a brief moment of what he assumed to be discomfort. They’d both been raised in circumstances that thrived on order and formality. Though it was certainly truer for him than her and her circumstances on Dathomir had changed so rapidly that she was certainly ignoring most people’s titles, probably out of irritation rather than a desire to be disrespectful.

Master Tapal had ridden in the front of the large aircar and just exchanged a small look with Cal as he opened the door. Cal climbed out and offered Merrin his hand first, then to Senator Amidala when it was her turn to exit the vehicle. She smiled at him and patted his shoulder as soon as she was steady on her feet.

“Anakin isn’t half the gentleman you are, Cal. I should make him take lessons from Jaro.”

“I’m more than willing to give him a thorough lecture,” Master Tapal said, and she laughed.

Cal put up his hood as they headed toward the exit of the private garage and headed for the entrance of the building. Merrin’s hand slipped into his as they walked. He checked to make sure her hood was up, but it would do no more than protect her physically as it could do nothing to hide her identity, considering who they were walking with. It would be obvious who they both were. He checked the placement of his lightsaber despite the fact that he could feel it against his body in a multitude of different ways.

Master Windu shifted abruptly in front of them and pulled his lightsaber but didn’t activate it.

Cal brought Merrin closer as Master Tapal put a hand on his shoulder. Senator Amidala moved in front of them. Merrin huffed and pulled the woman close to them.

“You’re more vulnerable right now than I’ll ever be, Padmé,” Merrin whispered, and the woman just sent her a look as she pulled a blaster from a slit in her ornate dress then flicked off the safety.

Cal unhooked his lightsaber when his master’s fingers pressed gently against his collarbone. Security guards were trotting toward them from across the room.

“Who are you?” Master Windu demanded. “And why are you approaching us in such a way?”

“I’m Senator Irth Bhril from Iridonia,” the Zabrak male said coolly. “I must speak with the Luminary before the Senate meeting this morning. I’ve tried to contact her repeatedly, but I’ve been rebuffed by her so-called guardian.”

Cere stepped forward and lowered her hood. “There is nothing so-called about my position as the Luminary’s legal guardian. It has been approved by the Advisory Council of Dathomir, the Jedi Council, Chancellor Organa, and most importantly, the Luminary herself. I’ve refused to allow you access to the child in my care because she does not wish to speak with you or anyone else from Iridonia under any circumstances. Ay Isar Badar was told, explicitly, that he can initiate diplomatic overture after the colonization of Dathomir by the Jedi Order is complete.”

Irth Bhril glared at her. “Ay Isar Badar does not recognize nor accept your custody of a female Zabrak child, Master Jedi. She belongs with one of her own kind.”

“She has plenty of her own kind on Dathomir, and Father Aaren, an accomplished and well-educated Zabrak male, is her Vizier. The Luminary does not need anything from Iridonia, Senator.”

“Is that the Human boy she has an unnatural attachment to? We’ve heard disturbing things about him,” Senator Bhril questioned. “That you allow her to associate with him more than proves that you’re unfit for her guardianship.”

“Enough!” Merrin shouted, and ichor flowed out around them as she released Cal’s hand and pushed through both Cere and Master Windu. She dragged the Senator to his knees with ichor and across the floor before his security could react. “Who do you think you are?”

Senator Bhirl struggled against her magickal hold in shocked horror.

“Answer me!” Merrin demanded.

“I…I am Senator Irth Bhirl from Iridonia. I have a wife and three children. One is a daughter. I’m very proud of her.”

“Do you treat your daughter like a thing?” Merrin demanded. “Do you treat her like property to be bartered and sold like a slave? Do you intend to make all of her decisions? Will you decide which male breeds her like a bantha cow?”

“No, no….” Senator Bhril took several grasping breaths. “She’s precious and amazing. I’m so honored to be her father.”

“I wish my father was alive to be so honored,” Merrin hissed, and the light-skinned senator paled even further. “You go back and tell Ay Isar Badar that I will never fucking submit to his rule or authority. Dathomir is none of his business!”

“Yes, of course,” he said hurriedly, and she pushed him away. He skidded across the glossy floor of the atrium and his security hurriedly picked him up.

Merrin returned to his side with a little frown and took his hand again. “My apologies, Master Tapal, for the language.”

“A queen can say anything she likes, little one,” Master Tapal said.

She laughed, but her fingers clenched against Cal’s. “Was I out of line?”

“Well, you just did display an immense amount of power in front of an atrium full of people in front of several security cameras,” Cal said. “It’ll get around, and it’ll probably hit the HoloNet before we even get seated.” She huffed in fury as they started walking again. “But he intruded on what you consider a private matter.”

“Cere?” Merrin questioned.

“You did fine,” she said. “But I can go stab him with my lightsaber if it will make you feel better. A flesh wound or two is a lesson some men need.”

She smiled as they entered the lift, and Cal relaxed a little.

“I don’t need that kind of lesson,” Cal blurted out once they were all in the lift, and Master Windu, of all people, laughed.

“I’m not so sure,” Merrin admitted. “I had this vision where you jumped off a tower and onto a chirodactyl’s back like an idiot.”

“You cannot hold me accountable for things you have visions about,” Cal said firmly. “Besides, I had nowhere else to go, and it was BD’s idea.”

BD-1 moved on his back. “Don’t blame me for things you do in dreams, Cal.”

“I’m gonna,” Cal muttered, and Merrin laughed. “Why did you drag him down to his knees?”

“Males respond best when made to submit,” Merrin said blithely, and Cal’s mouth dropped open.

“What?” Cal demanded.

Master Tapal just hummed under his breath as he walked out of the lift and Senator Amidala laughed as she followed.

“Zabrak males,” Merrin clarified as a clear afterthought and pulled him from the lift. “Don’t get your smalls in a twist, Jedi.”

“My what?” Cal questioned.

“Considering the context, one would assume she means synth-briefs,” Master Windu said mildly as he walked beside him, and Cal huffed.

“Don’t talk about my underclothes in public, Spacewitch.” He paused. “Or in private, actually. Or in dreams. Or in comms.”

Merrin grinned at him. “You’re such a prude. It’s adorable.” She looked toward Father Aaren, who looked serene and unbothered by the conversation. Cal envied him a lot. “How far is the Dathomir pod from Naboo’s? I think we should be close.”

“I’m not certain,” Father Aaren said. “Master Windu did the security sweep and sealed the pod with a security lock afterward.”

“Dathomir’s representative pod is stationed between Naboo and Alderaan to demonstrate the relationship between our three worlds,” Queen Breha said as they approached her. “Why do you ask?”

“I wanted to be close so that it will be clear that I support Padmé’s announcement,” Merrin said, and Queen Breha nodded.

“Bail has made the arrangements,” Queen Breha said and held out a hand for Merrin.

Dozens of people stilled as Merrin released Cal’s hand and took the Queen of Alderaan’s. He understood the political overture for what it was, especially after Merrin’s overt display of power. Queen Breha was telling everyone that she trusted the Luminary of Dathomir.

Cal fell into place beside Master Tapal as his master followed Queen Breha’s security entourage. He noted that both Master Fisto and Master Kloon, from the Jedi Council, were part of her team. Masters Skywalker and Kenobi were with Senator Amidala. He should’ve felt safe, but he didn’t. The Force was pushing gently all around him, and from the stances of the Jedi around him, he wasn’t the only one rapidly aware of a problem.

“Master?”

“I feel it,” Master Tapal murmured as they entered Dathomir’s pod. “Is the Force speaking to you?”

Everyone around them stilled, and Merrin came to stand beside him.

“Is something wrong?” Merrin questioned.

“I don’t know. The Force is…blind to the dark side, Merrin. It’s really why they can’t ever join her in the afterlife. They don’t exist to her.”

She shuddered. “What an awful thing to consider. I don’t know that anyone on Dathomir is that dark.” She paused. “Maybe Mother Kagan. I should ask her.”

Cal laughed briefly as the pod moved into position in the Senate. Only occupied pods would lift upward into the Senate’s coliseum. He looked around as Merrin took his hand and tugged him into place beside her in the public part of the pod. He realized she was making a pointed statement and let her. Idly, he wondered what his title would be when they mated.

“Premier Consort,” Merrin murmured and shot him a look when he blushed. “But I have a feeling you’re stuck with the Righteous One for the rest of your life.”

“No regrets,” he said as he squeezed her hand gently.

She nodded. “Not a single one.”

He looked around the coliseum. It seemed like every single pod was active. It was a daunting sight as it was clear that everyone understood that the future of the Republic was being decided in the days to come. Cal looked toward the chancellor, relieved that their pod was relatively close to his in the large room. He scanned the surfaces of the pods, walls, and columns out of future habit.

Cal turned toward Merrin. “Remember when you taught me to fly?”

She smiled. “Yes.”

Chancellor Organa’s pod rose above the rest, and screens all over the room displayed his face. “Good morning, members of the Galactic Senate. As stated in my organizational comm sent yesterday I’ve removed unnecessary protocols regarding the opening of the Senate’s meetings.” He paused at the applause and smiled. “Which has already cut this meeting down by twenty-two minutes. You’re welcome. First, the Grand Republic Army reports that they have secured the following planets from further incursion by the Confederacy of Independent Systems: Bracca, Utapau, Quermia, and Phindar. Our losses were minimal but tragic. A list of names will produced as part of our ongoing memorial to honor the fallen.

“But our successes did come with defeat as well,” Chancellor Organa said. “We’ve lost the planet of Ryloth and the GAR regiment there was…we had no survivors.” He bowed his head briefly. “The loss of life is disheartening, but we must protect our own. In the next weeks, we will vote on a series of measures designed to end this conflict. The first is the severance of membership of all worlds willingly participating in the Separatist movement.

“They don’t want to be apart of us, I believe we should honor that. I realize that Chancellor Palpatine had a different perspective on this conflict. But I feel as if we should move forward in an effort to regain peace. I propose that we go forward with our desire to defend our own, protect the innocent, and defy the subjugation of whole worlds in the name of greed and avarice. Count Dooku is a threat, yes, and he is a threat the Jedi Order will take care of as he is a Sith.

“Grand Master Yoda has declared that the Sith is his problem, and his people will deal with it. I have the utmost faith in the Jedi Order and Grand Master Yoda. They are our peacekeepers, our defenders, and our seekers of justice. They are true to their duty to the Force and to the Republic. Many of you question whether or not they should be involved in our military. I never did. It was, frankly, one of the few matters that Sheev Palpatine and I were in complete agreement.

“The Jedi don’t stand above us. They stand with us—shining examples across many species—dedicated to peace and righteousness. I am honored by the Jedi Order’s defense of our Republic, and I hope that all of you, in time, will come to see the true nobility in their sacrifices on our behalves. We are so incredibly lucky to have their loyalty.”

The applause was thunderous, and Cal wondered if Bail Organa’s popularity would corrupt him. The Force shifted inside of him in reassurance, so he pushed that train of thought aside. If the Force wasn’t worried about Bail Organa’s motivations, then he wouldn’t either. The crowd grew quiet.

“I welcome input from you all regarding our path forward,” Chancellor Organa continued. “My wife will tell you that I’m an excellent listener, just like she taught me to be.” He grinned at the laughter and whistles that earned him. “As a Senator, all of my decisions were built on my love for my world, my family, and the Republic. I will build a vision of our future with the same love. We can do so much as an organization if we focus on healing, peace, and hope going forward.

“Many of you heard rumors that I recently had an addition to my family. I’m pleased to announce that my wife and I adopted a child. Her name is Sela Amilynn Organa. Our little princess is doing well despite the circumstances around the death of her birth parents and her abandonment at the Jedi Temple earlier in the month. To dispel any rumors regarding that matter, she’s not a Force-sensitive. We’ve visited the temple with her regularly since her adoption because the Luminary of Dathomir and Jedi Padawan Cal Kestis are Sela’s hold-parents.

“It’s only right as they were the ones to find and save Sela from the terrible circumstances of her abandonment by a person not related to her. We are grateful for their movement in the Force as that allowed them to realize that Sela was in danger, and we are honored by their willingness to take on this duty to the House of Organa.”

The screens shifted and displayed them both. Cal stilled and kept his face as neutral as possible under the scrutiny. He noted that Merrin was doing the same and a fine sheen of ichor flowed over her skin and swept around him briefly before sinking into their skin. He was uncertain how he felt about the applause. It felt objectifying, and that thought left him feeling weird. He’d have to meditate on that.

The focus shifted back to Bail Organa.

“I can’t promise our path to peace will be easy and I expect we’ll face more losses as we seek to disengage completely from the Separatists. One final point, one of my proposals will include sanctions for member worlds willingly leaving the Republic. They wish to go, and that’s fine but they cannot return to us for a period of 500 years.” He paused and blinked at the outburst of cheers and shouts of approval. “Other sanctions can be discussed and voted on. New trade agreements, taxation plans, and the creation of a military academy here on Coruscant will also be on our agenda for the next few months.

“For those interested in the Clone Reparations Act’s progress, identity counseling is an ongoing process, and three ships in the Grand Army of the Republic have retrofitted to help. All clones have been registered with full names and have been given credit accounts set up within the Republic’s new finance system. They’ve graciously agreed to help us test this system for their payroll.

“In that vein, my final proposal subject is the creation of a series of laws forbidding the cloning of sapient life within the Galactic Republic. Organ cloning and gestational technology used in the creation of genetically diverse offspring would be exempt from this law. But we must do all we can to prevent a situation like the Clone Army from ever happening again within our borders.

“Let us, together, plan a bright future, and anyone who does not wish to walk on that path with us is free to just…go away.” He cleared his throat after the crowd settled down. “I cede the floor to Senator Padmé Amidala from Naboo.”

Senator Amidala’s pod lifted upward, and the screens focused on her. “I’m pleased to introduce my replacement from Naboo, Senator Yeva Gelall. Like me, she was once Queen of Naboo but has lived under a new name since her last term, as is common on my world. Senator Gelall has spent decades studying law and the Republic. I believe we will find her a thoughtful and very rational peer as we walk into the future of our grand republic.

“With permission from my recently elected queen, Apailana, I’ve migrated to Alderaan and will join the Jedi Order in the colonization of Dathomir. The Luminary has requested that I become her senator, so please don’t fear that I won’t be around to bore you to literal tears with long-winded speeches when I’m inevitably offended by one proposal or another in the future.” She smiled when many laughed around her. “Yeva?”

An older woman stepped forward and took Padmé’s place with a smile. She was lovely, Cal thought, and her demeanor appeared gentle. The Force seemed pleased with her, which was relieving.

“Good morning, fellow Senators and Chancellor,” Senator Gelall said. “I’ll be available to join all committees that Senator Amidala has just been removed from on behalf of Naboo. Though I expect she’ll seek to rejoin many on behalf of Dathomir. Naboo fully supports Chancellor Organa’s plans for peace and sanctions, and we also thank the Jedi Order for the immense sacrifices they’ve made in the defense of us all. We cannot ever properly express how grateful we are. Life is precious, and from that very well of life, you have sprung. May the Force be with every single one of you.”

“And with you,” Cal murmured and felt, more than heard, every Jedi in the room say it with her.

He bowed in her direction, and as he straightened, he realized that his fellow Jedi had done so as well all over the large arena-like room, and so had Merrin. Cal wondered why there were so many Jedi in the room, did they feel the discontent in the Force as well? How did the Force perceive their reality? Could she see events unfolding around them? Cal didn’t think so. He wondered if he was allowed to ask.

“I see your physical reality through the perceptions of those loyal to the light side but not at all at once. I’m so worried, Cal. I can’t see what’s coming, but it’s going to be awful,” the Force whispered in his mind, and Cal took a deep, shuddery breath.

He stepped away from Merrin, his hand slipping from hers as he sought his master out of instinct. Master Tapal, who must have felt his growing distress through their bond, was already moving toward him. He reached out for his Master with both hands, and Master Tapal knelt immediately, bringing him as close as he’d ever done before in public.

“Cal?” Master Tapal questioned gently.

“The Force is worried,” Cal said hoarsely, and Merrin pressed against his side even as he spoke.

Padmé Amidala was suddenly in the pod on both knees beside Cal. “What’s wrong?”

He turned to look at her, and the Force grew hot all around him. “You have to go, Padmé, please. Right now! Master Skywalker—take your wife and go!”

Anakin Skywalker darted forward, scooped Padmé right up off the floor, and ran. Master Kenobi went with them.

Cal grabbed Merrin’s hand even as Master Tapal wrapped his arms around them both and stood. He carried them out of the pod, and he heard, distantly, as the chancellor encouraged an evacuation of the building. It was too late, he knew, but he hoped the Padmé Amidala got out before it started. It seemed like her life literally depended on it.

Master Tapal put them both down. “Draw your weapons.” Cal did as instructed, and Merrin’s staff weapon appeared in her hand in a near instant. He touched them both, cupping their heads with big hands. “Do everything you must to live. I mean it.”

“I’m not going to get taken out by some dumb Separatist,” Merrin said firmly, and Master Tapal smiled at her.

“Aaren,” Master Tapal murmured as he looked around.

“I’m right here,” Father Aaren said as he came to his side. “There’s no comms traffic at all. The Senate building has been cut off from the Coruscant Security Force command. We have to trust each senator’s security team to handle their business at this point.”

Cal turned toward Cere Junda, who was focused on him. “We have to protect the chancellor.”

“He has his own troopers,” Master Tapal said.

“They won’t be enough,” Cal said as they headed for the stairs. The lifts were locked down, and the hall was crowded with people moving quickly. Most of the senators and their staff on their side of the building were following them.

“Obi-Wan reports that Anakin and Padmé are on the way to the temple, which has been bunkered by Master Tide,” Master Windu said as he led them down the stairs. “A security team is waiting to receive them. He’s at the bottom of these stairs.”

“Is this a shatterpoint, Mace?” Master Tapal questioned.

“I can’t even look at it,” Master Windu said as they picked up their pace. “It’s like a chasm in the Force.”

The building trembled and a loud noise rumbled through it. Master Tapal snatched him up and held him close against the wall. He looked urgently around for Merrin as they’d been separated and found her in the arms of Father Aaren, looking right at him. They were no longer close enough to touch, and it felt like the most dangerous moment of his entire life. Another explosion rocked the building.

Coruscant had been invaded. It was surreal. Distantly, he realized it had happened in the other timeline as well. That he hadn’t had any significant dreams about it was scary, and he hated the way it made him feel. Part of him realized that he’d grown far too comfortable with the ability to see what was coming his way in some fashion or another. The future memories were a boon and a burden all at once, something he didn’t always want to recognize.

Master Tapal put him back on his feet, and they started to move again. Cal held his hand back behind him, and Merrin caught it immediately. He really needed to work on his reactions to separation since they couldn’t live in each other’s pockets indefinitely. It wasn’t healthy, and the adults around them wouldn’t allow it anyway.

Realizing he was precariously close to disassociating in the middle of an emergency situation brought him up short. So, he pushed everything down and away to prepare for what was going to be happening in the atrium. He fully expected it to be a nightmare. The sound of weapons fire filled his ears as they approached the bottom of the stairwell.

Separatist droids were everywhere in the atrium, which was filled with panicked people, screams, and the clash of lightsabers against metal. Cal activated his lightsaber and, within seconds, deflected a laser bolt. He hated to do it, but he let go of Merrin’s hand. They needed to both be free to act and defend themselves as they tried to reach the chancellor.

Queen Breha’s party was ahead of them, and Master Tapal called out to her sharply. She turned toward them briefly before leveling the blaster in her hand, shooting two different battle droids heading her way.

“Jaro! Take the children to safety!”

“That’s a work in progress,” Master Tapal retorted as their two parties merged together. “Give them room to defend themselves,” he ordered sharply, and Queen Breha’s security forces backed away from him and Merrin. “Neither is defenseless.”

Cal trusted Merrin to take care of herself, so he focused on moving and threat assessment as they were pushed through the crowd. Glass shattered, and droids streamed in from all directions. Groups of people behind them started to press in close all around them. Suddenly, he and Merrin were back to back on their own.

He caught her hand again to keep her at his side as adults streamed around them. “You’re going to get crushed like this!”

“Merrin!” Cere appeared and picked her up. “I’m sorry. I have to get you out of here.”

“Cere, what….” Merrin reached out for him as Father Aaren appeared and used one hand to direct Cere away from him. “Cal!”

“Go, I’m fine!” Cal shouted. “I promise, Spacewitch!”

He was pushed forward into a whole squadron of droids, but he didn’t think it was on purpose. Everyone was panicking, and another explosion sounded in the distance. Cal destroyed three droids close to him—sent their parts flying, and as he turned, he almost ran right into Chancellor Organa, who had a blaster in hand. The older man shot two droids.

“Cal! Where is your master?”

“With your wife in the middle!” Cal shouted and pointed out across the crowd where his Master towered over most of the crowd of people. “Why didn’t you exit via your personal emergency capsule?”

The chancellor huffed. “My wife in this mess!” He put two laser bolts in a droid’s chest and kicked it away from them.

Cal decided he’d have to trust the older man with his back. “Stick close. I’m going to push with the Force to make room for these people to evac.”

“Okay!”

Cal pushed as hard as he could, and dozens of droids flew away from him, sprawling across the floor. He redrew his lightsaber, pulled a droid commander to him, impaled it then dropped it on the floor.

“Great job,” Chancellor Organa exclaimed. “Master Tapal is teaching you well.”

Cal grinned because getting a work critique from the Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic was an interesting position to be in. “Be careful with your shots—the civilians don’t know how to stay out of the way.”

There were bodies on the floor, and there was no helping them. He hoped none of the injured got crushed, though he noticed that none of them had been abandoned by their own people and pockets were forming to protect them. He heard his name shouted, and Cal tossed his lightsaber high to get his Master’s attention and caught it easily as he prodded the chancellor toward an exit.

Chancellor Organa was yelling at people, ordering them toward a door, so that was a relief as he didn’t have the size or the authority for that kind of crowd control. Droids were still spilling into the room from an immense hole in the east wall. He really wanted to know how so many had gotten on the planet without anyone recognizing it.

“Commander!”

Cal looked up as Lt. Whip headed his way with a rifle in hand. “Whip! You alone?”

“No, sir. I’ve got a full squad with me. Not much in this situation!” Whip kicked a downed droid away from them. “Bane is headed for General Tapal. The rest of us were tasked with looking for you—due to your current lack of height.”

Chancellor Organa laughed.

Cal huffed. “Start clearing these people out the exit and watch the Chancellor’s back. Don’t let one of these things get their hands on him. He’s literally the future of the Republic.” He flicked a hand as he deflected a laser bolt back toward the droid who’d fired it at him. “Per the Force.”

Whip handed him a comm, and Cal hooked it into his ear. The chatter on the device as soon as it was activated was actually a relief. It was clear that Captain Bane hadn’t reached Master Tapal yet, so he took command of their troops. He’d have to ask later how and why they were on Coruscant. He glanced around, identifying the troopers that he could see.

“This is Commander Kestis, I need at least four men on the east wall. Start cleaning out these things before they can get into the atrium. Form a shooting gallery immediately. Strike, Wick—secure the front doors and prepare for the evac of Chancellor Organa. The rest of you, all senators are wearing insignia. Mark them, contain them, and get them out of the line of fire with their entourages, if possible. If not possible, separate them from anything and anyone that will slow you down.”

He turned off his mic as he got affirmation after affirmation.

“You’ll come with me, Cal,” Chancellor Organa said firmly.

“No, sir, I won’t,” Cal retorted as he used the Force to plow straight through a squad of droids as they moved toward an exit and destroyed them with his lightsaber. “You’re a priority target, sir. It’s time for you to go. Master Tapal has your wife, and he’ll protect her.”

“I’m not going to leave you in this mess!” Chancellor Organa shouted.

The ceiling above them disintegrated at that point, and General Grievous dropped down in a cloud of dust. He hit the floor in front of them, and Whip grabbed Cal’s robe. Cal let himself be pulled back as it was serving to get the chancellor as far as possible from the cyborg leader of the Separatist’s army.

“Ah! Two of my targets right where I need them to be!”

Cal took a deep breath as the droids formed up, ten deep, around them and started to push everyone back from their general. He’d rarely seen anything so horrifying in his life.

“General Grievous,” Cal said calmly as the room grew horribly quiet. “I must admit the holostills I’ve seen don’t do you justice.”

“Is that so, little Jedi?” He spread out his four mechanical arms with a laugh. “Impressed?”

“Disgusted,” Cal confessed. “What has Dooku done to you? How could you allow it? You’re more machine than you are anything else. It must be a hellish existence.”

“I don’t want your pity, little Jedi,” Grievous hissed. “Count Dooku wishes to meet you. You’ll be coming with me.”

“No,” Cal said firmly.

“You have no choice!” Grievous screamed.

“There are literally dozens of much bigger Jedi in this room that leads me to believe that I do, in fact, have a choice,” Cal said dryly. “What about the chancellor?”

“He’s already dead to me,” Grievous hissed.

“That’s rude,” Cal said. “And a violation of the basic rules of war. The assassination of a faction leader is considered to be both base and immoral. Though, I’m not surprised that Count Dooku would stoop so low again to do such a thing. He can’t beat us, so he’s decided to bore us to death with elections.” He glanced over the crowd and found his Master staring at him.

“He can’t help you, boy,” Grievous said in a twisted little sing-song voice that was so appalling that Cal blinked. “I’ve got a blaster to the Queen of Alderaan’s head. He moves, and she dies. Any of your so-called protectors move, and she dies. Clear?” He drew four lightsabers out. “You can come in one piece or in several. I’m not picky as long as you’re breathing.”

“Let me go, Whip,” Cal murmured, and the trooper released his robe with a soft noise of dismay. “I’m okay.”

“Yes, everyone, the little Jedi is okay,” Grievous said with a twisted laugh. “Where’s the girl? I want her, too!”

“You mean the Luminary?” Cal questioned.

“Yes, bring her! Bring her right now!”

“She’s already gone,” Cal said evenly. “And it’ll be a hot day on Hoth before you get your creepy…claws on her.”

“She’s attached to you; I can make her come back.” Grievous started to spin all four of his lightsabers. “Count Dooku has taught me your ways.”

“No, he hasn’t,” Cal said gently as he knelt. He turned off his lightsaber and put it on the floor in front of him.

“Look! The boy has surrendered!” Grievous shouted with a laugh as Cal closed his eyes. “The Jedi are nothing but cowards!”

“He’s just a boy—stop this at once,” a woman shouted, then screamed in pain.

Cal let it all go.

“I’m with you,” the Force said. “I’m always with you, Cal. Remember that the righteous shall always prevail over the dark.”

Cal felt the Jedi all over the room as they stilled. He wondered how many of them had ever heard the Force speak. Their movements in the Force had never been so overtly obvious to him before. One by one, they reached out to him through the Force lending him their strength, their experience, and their determination. Above them all, Master Tapal weaved through the connection, and within his peace, Cal found the calm he needed to focus.

Cal took a deep breath as his mind’s eye filled with Grievous as he approached him. The lightsabers were hitting the floor with every spin, carving a path across the expensive marble.

“Now,” Master Tapal ordered.

Cal lunged to his feet, summoned his lightsaber, darted forward, and did something precious few adult Jedi could’ve done—he hit his knees, slid right through the spinning lightsabers and between Grievous’ legs, sprung up, turned and whipped his own lightsaber straight up through the cyborg’s body from groin to head as he jumped. The silence was deafening as he flipped over Grievous’ bisected remains and landed.

“May you find peace in death, Oymaen jai Sheelal.” He bowed briefly as he spoke.

Cal plucked BD-1 from his shoulder in the confusion that followed and launched him at the droid commander nearest to him.

BD-1 shoved a probe straight through the droid’s eye and reprogrammed him before any of the other droids could respond. The new programming filtered into the others quickly and they all turned one by one away from the hostages.

“I’m Jedi Commander Cal Kestis of the Grand Army of the Republic, and you now belong to me,” he said firmly as BD-1 dropped down off the commander and trotted back to him. He offered his friend a hand up. “Stand down, holster your weapons, and form up—immediately.”

The room was silent as the droids did as instructed. His master pushed through the crowd at that point and deposited Queen Breha right down on the floor in front of her husband before coming to him.

“Padawan,” Master Tapal said hoarsely and came down on both knees in front of him. He cupped Cal’s head briefly, then pulled him into a tight hug. “You are a blessing.”

“You’re clearly upset, so I’m going to overlook the fact that you’re destroying my dignity in front of the whole Republic,” Cal muttered, even as his own knees went weak with relief.

“You just took out General Grievous,” Master Kenobi said as he joined them. “You’ve got enough dignity to last you a lifetime, kid.”

“Mine, too,” Master Tapal said.

“We did great,” BD-1 announced.

“You can have all the spare parts you want, BD,” Lt. Whip said. He handed Master Tapal a comm as he released Cal. “Sir.”

Master Tapal put the comm on and stood. Cal was relieved his master didn’t pick him up because it was clear he wanted to.

“Whip, take these droids back to the Albedo Brave and have their code evaluated, corrected as needed, then locked down to prevent tampering. Designate them as Dathomir Regiment One and give them ground security protocols,” Cal said and shrugged when everyone looked at him in confusion. “Some girls like jewelry. Merrin likes weapons and boots.” He frowned. “And she just got new boots, so my options when it comes to requesting forgiveness are kind of limited.”

He grimaced and left them. Cal walked around Grievous’s remains and went to stand in front of the droid commander.

“Sorry about the eye.”

“Repairs will be easy, sir,” the droid responded.

“What’s your name?”

“Commander BT-QU.”

“I’m going to call you Q,” Cal decided.

“Very well,” the droid agreed.

“Q, before you invaded Coruscant, you were given mission perimeters. State them.”

“Capture Jedi Padawan Cal Kestis, the Luminary of Dathomir, Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker, and Jedi Padawan Ahsoka Tano. Kill Jedi Master Obi Wan-Kenobi, Jedi Master Jaro Tapal, the individual known only as Father Aaren, Jedi Master Cere Junda, Chancellor Bail Organa, and Senator Padmé Amidala. Any and all losses acceptable to achieve objectives.”

He turned and watched Master Tapal summon the lightsabers that Grievous had been carrying. Cal nodded because the weapons didn’t belong to him or with him in death.

Chapter 24

“Captain Bane?” Jaro questioned as he approached the group of ten troopers that were waiting in the atrium of the Jedi Temple for him.

“Sir,” he nodded. “We’ve arranged the transport of the droids Commander Kestis…acquired. We’d been assigned a supply ship to take back to the Albedo Brave but had to take a ship upgrade to get them all on board. Though they’re all deactivated and packed currently.”

“How many in total?” Jaro questioned.

“2187,” Ez Bane reported. “We also collected the parts of all the ones that were destroyed so we can break them down and create a repair cache.” He cleared his throat. “Can we see him? The others will want to know how he is. Marshall Commander Meza has sent me six comms in the last five hours.”

“I’ve gotten three,” Jaro said wryly, and they laughed. “I had no idea you troopers were such festering little pots of angst.”

“Yes, well,” Captain Bane said and shifted on his feet. “He’s our Jedi Commander.”

Jaro just inclined his head and walked away. They fell into line behind him as they were trained to do. He had to believe it was practically automatic for them and he was loathed to think how their creators had made that a thing. He’d probably have to go raze a planet or two if he did find out.

Cal was in a training room with Merrin. They hadn’t argued as far as Jaro could tell, and he didn’t think hostility would’ve lasted long between them even if they had argued about the fact that Cal had agreed with Merrin’s evacuation from the Senate building. As it turned out, Padmé Amidala had been the one having the biggest sort of fit until she’d found out that she’d been on General Grievous’ personal hit list. That had apparently knocked the wind right out of her sails, and she’d been sulking in Anakin’s apartment in the temple for going on fifteen hours.

Merrin was seated on top of a tower eating an apple when they entered the observation deck, and Cal was running along a wall with an increasing amount of speed while attached to his liquid-cable launcher. It was the first time he’d really gotten to train with it, and Jaro was impressed with his movement already.

“Does he like it?” Whip questioned. “I made sure it could hold at least ten metric tons of weight in motion to account for his Force strength now and the potential in the future.”

“He’s thrilled with it,” Jaro assured, and Whip grinned.

“He didn’t look injured afterward,” Captain Bane said. “Did he get hurt?”

“He was one of the few Jedi in the room that managed to escape without a single blaster hit,” Jaro said. “I had four. Though his robe was scorched in several places. It’s made out of a blaster-proof material that Master Windu has been researching. It’ll be replaced before he’s allowed to leave the temple.”

They all nodded.

“Why did General Frantar send so many of you on a supply run?” Jaro questioned. “And what could you need to be resupplied at this point?”

“We’re picking up new armor, sir,” Lt. Whip answered. “Then we had to do some personal shopping for everyone on board since we got our first payroll deposit. She felt it unfair to leave it to just me and Tanner. We’ll make quick work of it as a squad.”

“I volunteered to take command of the operation,” Captain Bane said. “Since I make the kid uncomfortable.” He paused. “Her kid, not yours.”

“Why do you make him uncomfortable?” Jaro questioned with a frown.

Bane blew air out between his lips. “I’ve been undertaking commando training as a hobby so I can train a squad for our battalion.”

“Yes, I remember.”

“He was working on a sparring droid in the gym during one of my sessions, and I had a very violent and bloody holoscenario training session. The boy has avoided me ever since and General Frantar questioned me because she discovered that he’s afraid of me. Since I’ve been bulking, I’m actually one of the only troopers on board the ship that is bigger than him.”

Jaro nodded. Talon Knoff was average for his age, but that meant he was boarder and as tall as the average adult Human male. All of the troopers were Talon’s height, but precious few would approach the boy’s muscle mass.

“I’ve never said a word to him, sir,” Captain Bane continued. “If I’m honest, none of us speak to him unless required because it’s clear he finds us offensive. The 13^th Battalion’s war record puts him off. No child should be said to be made for war, but he’s….” He grimaced. “He’s nothing like Commander Kestis.”

“No, certainly not,” Jaro said. “Cal is a fighter and a survivor.” He focused on his padawan, who was using the cable launcher to swing across the room from the ceiling. “He doesn’t know how to give up, really, and for that, I’m grateful. Yesterday could’ve gone differently. I couldn’t risk Queen Breha’s life. I was placed in an agonizing position. Choosing between my duty to the Republic and my duty to my padawan was a nightmare. Dozens of senators were hostages at that point. I can only be grateful that Cal is already as much as Jedi as some three times his age in the Order.”

“As soon as he knelt, I knew that guy’s life was over,” Lt. Whip said wryly, and they all laughed. “He seriously had not been taught the ways of the Jedi by any stretch of the imagination. When a Jedi takes the time to meditate during the middle of a battle—you might as well surrender because they aren’t worried about you at all.”

Battle meditation was a rare skill and not one that he’d taught Cal, though he’d never admit it since the entire Republic had seen a holovid of him doing it right before killing General Grievous. Cal had accomplished a Force meld with the other Jedi in the midst of the most immense threat he’d personally ever faced. Jaro did wonder if the future version of Cal had given the boy any memories that he could’ve built the battle meditation skill on.

“Did she just teleport?” Captain Bane demanded.

Jaro focused on the room and found that Merrin had moved to a different tower. She stayed still for a moment, then disappeared, only to reappear in the observation room with them. All ten troopers started visibly.

“Training, little one?” Jaro questioned.

“I hadn’t been working on it outside of dreams,” Merrin said darkly. “So, I had no idea how far I could go and what kind of drain it would be on my energy. It meant that Cere and Father Aaren had to remove themselves from the fight to protect me.” She crossed her arms. “It made Cal and you both more vulnerable. I’m really sorry.”

“Nothing that happened yesterday was your fault,” Jaro said. “And I’m glad that you didn’t fight evacuation.”

“I would’ve been a distraction,” she said. “Cal was worried I’d get crushed in the panic due to my size. I haven’t been really taught to fight with my weapon and I can magickally exhaust myself easily. Plus, I’d wasted energy on that idiot, Irth Bhirl, before the Senate convened. I dream about fighting, but it isn’t the same thing. Cal says I don’t have muscle memory, and it could make it dangerous for me to try to do things I’ve dreamt about doing.”

Jaro nodded. “I’m sure Cere and Aaren will set you to rights.”

“They’ve both promised to,” Merrin said in agreement and focused on Cal. “Do you know who gave him that liquid-cable launcher?”

“It depends,” Jaro said. “Are you mad about it?”

She laughed. “I want one. I need to be more judicious about my use of magick going forward until I’m mature and it would be a nice thing to add to my personal arsenal.”

“I’ll get you one,” Lt. Whip said, and she offered him a bright smile before disappearing with a flash of ichor. “Zabraks have mating challenges on Iridonia. Is that a concern on Dathomir?”

“It is, yes.”

“Then someone needs to work on the commander’s hand-to-hand skills, sir,” Lt. Whip said earnestly. “The average Zabrak male is going to be three times stronger than him, and there is nothing average about the ones on Dathomir.”

Jaro sighed. “It won’t be him doing the fighting, Whip.” He inclined his head. “On Dathomir, it’s the females challenging nearly eighty percent of the time. And I doubt seriously any male on that planet would dare try to get in the way of what the Luminary wants. She’d probably just kill them.” He paused. “Get her liquid-cable launcher rated for twice his. I have no idea how her magick would transfer into physical power as an adult. She could probably rip one of you in half right now if properly motivated with magick.”

Captain Bane nodded thoughtfully. “In that case, Commander Kestis probably needs more coursework on gender politics.”

Jaro laughed.

* * * *

Cal shifted on the meditation mat and took a deep breath as he accepted the beads from his master. He hadn’t expected anything to be added to his padawan braid until his sixteenth birthday when he would receive a red bead indicating his age. One green bead for his journey with prophetic elements of the Force. He’d thought he might get that one eventually.

But he knew the silver bead was rarely bestowed. He’d never seen one on a padawan, and they’d only mentioned it briefly at the academy. It spoke of a pure and profound relationship with the Force.

“Are you sure?”

“No one could deny you this,” Master Tapal murmured. “And it would be a disservice to you for me to ignore it. I know you’ve never wished to stand unique amongst your peers, and I appreciate that, but you are genuinely blessed by the Force, Cal. I think you always have been.”

“Wearing both will make people take me far more seriously than maybe they should at my age,” Cal said quietly.

“No, it will tell them that I take you as seriously as I should,” Master Tapal corrected. “I understand my duty to you, Cal, and I want that to be clear to every single Jedi Master who comes across you now and in the future.”

Cal stared at the beads and nodded. He put them down on the mat and loosened his braid. “I was talking to Merrin about muscle memory.”

“She mentioned it,” Master Tapal said. “Are you genuinely worried about it?”

“Yes, for us both, but more for her. She was an amazing fighter in the future. Agile, strong, and lethal—truly my equal.”

“Are you worried that she won’t become that again?” Master Tapal questioned.

“No, of course not, and even if she chose not to pursue that kind of skill going forward, I wouldn’t have a problem with it. I want her to be safe, and I think that equals being able to defend herself from any threat. That being said, if the thought of it makes her remember things she’d rather not, then I understand. We’ll just have to make adjustments and make sure her security is always on point. I respect her journey, Master.”

“I know,” Master Tapal said. “I want to start working with you on battle meditation.”

“I realized what I did after the fact,” Cal said and flushed. “Well, I realized what the Force facilitated for me. She knew what I needed when I didn’t, and I’m really grateful to everyone who joined me in that moment. Do I say anything to them?”

“You needn’t,” Master Tapal said as Cal finished placing the new beads and let his fingers linger on the silver one briefly. “We were with you in the Force, Cal, of our own accord. It was something that Grievous could not see nor control. He thought he’d rendered us useless because of our vows to the Republic. Queen Breha wasn’t the only one with a weapon to their head. Dozens of senators had been captured as well. But you reached out with the Force and empowered us all, not just the ones in the room. Even Yoda responded to your need in that moment.”

“I felt him,” Cal murmured. “I felt all of you. How is Ahsoka adjusting to the fact that she’s on her Great Great Grandmaster’s kidnap and turn to the dark side list?”

Master Tapal snorted. “Furious from all reports. She apparently tried to send him a comm outlining just how utterly disgusting he is and how the entire lineage is ashamed of him and that he’s apparently making Yoda sad.”

Cal nodded. “I don’t blame her. I want to send him a comm, too, to tell him he’s a degenerate. His unsavory interest in me is making me uncomfortable, is what I’m saying.” His master smiled at him. “I don’t see why she can’t send him a comm.”

“Count Dooku closed his account with the HoloNet,” Master Tapal said. “So, it came back undelivered.”

“We can set up a HoloNet site and post all of our grievances on it,” BD-1 suggested and wiggled his feet when they both turned to stare at him where he was seated beside them. “Expressing yourself properly is important to your mental health, Cal.”

“I’m going to start mine with—Qui-Gon Jinn is so disappointed in you,” Cal decided and shrugged when his master laughed. “Tell me he’s not.”

“He’s certainly disappointed,” Master Tapal assured. “Now, settle down. At the heart of it, battle meditation is about your connection to the Force and other Force users. It can be used by the light and the dark side to varying degrees of success. Some are so put off by the dark side’s use of the ability that they avoid it. A Force meld is a subset skill of battle meditation, and that’s what you did yesterday. You drew the Force and other Force users to you. They, in turn, offered you their resolve, strength, and experience with willing hearts and minds.”

Cal’s lips quirked up a little. “I’m pretty sure it’s Master Kenobi’s fault that I went with a vertical bisection over a horizontal. He’s never getting over Darth Maul’s survival.”

“Agreed,” Master Tapal said dryly. “And every single male in the galaxy that keeps their reproductive organs in their groin will hesitate to cross you after witnessing it.”

“That’s good because I’m not above doing it again,” Cal retorted but closed his eyes when he got a look. “Right, I’m settling down.” He cleared his throat. “I did, okay, right?”

“You were amazing,” Master Tapal said quietly. “I’m so proud of you, Cal. Never doubt it.”

“It was a lot,” Cal said. “It felt like too much. It felt like I revealed too much to everyone. No other padawan my age could’ve done what I did, Master. What if people question it? What if other Jedi start to distrust me?”

Master Tapal stared for a moment and stood. “Come.”

“What about the battle meditation lesson?” Cal asked in confusion.

“You’re far too stressed out for such a thing,” Master Tapal said shortly.

Cal followed his master out of their quarters and through the temple silently as he was worried that his inability to let go of his stressful thoughts had upset the older man. He worked on calming his mind down as they walked and was startled when they entered a part of the temple he’d never been in. Children in the crèche and at the academy were sheltered to a large degree. Many parts of the temple were only available to adult Jedi, and some were only accessible to those who were declared masters.

They were in an area that was meant for adults. It wasn’t explicitly stated that padawans were forbidden from entering the halls they were currently walking through, but it was implied heavily. Part of it was about privacy, and the rest, he figured, was about safety. The training facilities in this part of the temple were harsh and dangerous, with precious few safety protocols. Though he’d never heard a rumor or anything about an adult dying in the bigger, more dangerous training arenas.

Not a single Jedi Master they passed by questioned his own master about Cal’s presence. It was kind of weird as he’d expected at least some sort of brief conversation by someone trying to get information out of Master Tapal. He was an imposing figure, but he’d never seen another Jedi hesitate to speak with him.

Some Humans found the natural scent of Lasats offensive, but Cal had adjusted so quickly to the unique scent that it was more of a neutral part of his day-to-day life. Even before the adjustment, it had never been offensive. But he’d never seen a fellow Jedi respond negatively to that either. He’d probably get in trouble for a display of hostility if someone did get rude about it.

They entered a small archive room with floor-to-ceiling shelves full of holobooks. Cal knew the Jedi Master in the room on sight, though he’d never been introduced.

“Master Nu,” Master Tapal said, and she turned toward them with a small smile.

“Jaro, I’m ever so pleased to have you here. You’ve brought him. I expected to see you sooner.”

“Had I known, I would’ve come sooner,” Master Tapal said smoothly.

“Come then, we’ll have tea.”

Cal found himself seated at a low table on the floor with Master Tapal and Master Jocasta Nu with a cup of tea that smelled horrible but tasted good. It was such an odd combination of experiences.

“Qui-Gon brought me this tea for the first time shortly after he was knighted,” Master Nu said. “I drink it when I think of him.”

“Why do you think on him today?” Master Tapal questioned.

“I was creating the archival record for your padawan,” Master Nu said, and Cal barely refrained from gaping at her. “Precious few padawans have an open record. In fact, I didn’t create one for you until a near decade after your knighting, Jaro.” She shrugged. “Most Jedi are listed in the main archive and do not need an individual recording of their life and accomplishments. Such is the dream, I suppose, for many. They seek peace and the smallest of lives within the Force.”

Cal didn’t think he’d mind a small life so much. He wondered if he wanted to know what was in his record.

“You don’t get to know exactly what’s in your record, young one,” Master Nu said. “It would create bias within me if I allowed such a thing. The archive is meant to inform and teach future generations. In the years to come, I will reach out to you occasionally and ask you questions. Your perspective is necessary in the archive, after all. Any research you do, or writings you undertake in regard to the Force would also be welcome in your personal archive.”

Cal nodded. “I understand, Master Nu.” He wet his lips. “Are people allowed to read the individual archives of living Jedi?”

“No, as that has created conflict in the past.”

“What about former Jedi?” Cal questioned. “Like Dooku? Does he have an individual record?”

Her mouth quirked gently. “As a matter of fact, he doesn’t. There was nothing all that extraordinary about Yan Dooku. He was an average Jedi, a rare circumstance for one trained by Master Yoda. That being said, I created an individual record for his padawan, Qui-Gon Jinn, just a few days after he became Dooku’s apprentice because I knew he’d never be average.”

“Am I the youngest to ever get a record?” Cal asked and made a face at the thought.

She laughed. “No, that honor goes to Yaddle, who came to the temple when she was less than a year old. Grogu came to us when he was five and also has a record. Yoda was much older and already speaking a language no one understood. Teaching him Galactic Basic proved difficult, as you can tell, even today, because of his speech patterns.”

“Cal is worried that his fellow Jedi may come to distrust him because of his relationship with the Force,” Master Tapal said, and Cal blushed.

“It’s not an unexpected worry,” Master Nu said. “Standing out as unique amongst your peers can cause distrust and jealousy even within the Jedi Order. Your relationship with the Force is just one factor to consider. Your close friendship with our regent is another. Many might find your influence over her unfair now and in the future.”

“I’m pretty sure she influences me more than I’ll ever influence her,” Cal muttered, and they both laughed.

“That being said,” Master Nu said. “You’re not really all that unique, Padawan Kestis. Your gifts with the Force are prodigious and somewhat dazzling compared to others in our Order. But the vast majority of your brethren will see you for exactly what you are—a Jedi who is dedicated to the Force. That’s all we should ask of any of our kind.”

Cal smiled. “So, I can’t see my record at all?”

She pulled a glowing holobook from her desk. “As I just said, I’ve only begun to gather data for it. It has your health records, your parents’ names, and the date they surrendered you to the crèche here on Coruscant.” She put it down on the desk in front of her and smoothed one hand over it. “The crèche matron at the time was told that you were a good baby but that your gifts within the Force made it dangerous for them to keep you. You kept summoning things, you see, and had summoned one of your father’s welding tools. They barely caught you with it before you turned it on.”

“I didn’t know that,” Cal admitted.

“It was also recorded by the crèche matron that raised you until you were sent to the academy that you never asked questions about your parents or the fact they surrendered you to the Jedi Order.”

“They didn’t want me,” Cal said with a shrug. “So, I don’t want them either.”

“That’s not accurate, Cal,” Master Nu said. “They were heartbroken to part with you and made the matron promise that she would make sure you got your favorite fruit at least once a week. They gave her a whole list of things that you liked and food that you hated. They tried to leave toys and clothes with you, but the crèche has rules about toys made for non-Force users. The matron was afraid they’d get broken and hurt someone. The only thing you were allowed to keep was a small stuffed loth cat.”

Cal flushed and averted his gaze.

“You still have it,” Master Nu said in amusement.

Cal shook his head. “I gave it to Grogu when I went to the academy. He showed it to me the other day when Merrin and I went to visit the crèche. He was proud to show me that he still had it tucked in his pram. They never contacted me—not even after I started the academy.”

“Perhaps it was too painful,” Master Nu said. “Or they’re no longer on Coruscant. I can look into it if you want.”

Cal shook his head. “It might sound heartless, but I don’t need the complication nor the emotional burden of that. I’ve kind of got a full plate.”

Master Tapal touched his shoulder, and Cal focused on him. “If you ever change your mind, I’ll help you find them. Even if it’s just to get a picture.”

“Oh, I have a holostill.” Master Nu opened the holobook then paused. “Unless you don’t want to see it.”

“I….” Cal took a deep breath. “I think I can handle seeing them.”

She worked with the book for several moments and projected an image of two people holding a baby. Cal stared. His mother had blond hair, and his father had red. He saw his older face in the man, and that was kind of startling.

“Do you know what they do?” Cal questioned.

“He’s a mechanical engineer, and she was, at the time of this holostill, studying to become a medical doctor. He’s from Coruscant, and she’s from Alderaan. There is an emergency clause in your records, giving you citizenship on Alderaan if you’re somehow forced to leave Coruscant for good.”

Cal nodded. “Okay.”

Master Nu closed the image. “I could send you a copy?”

“No, but thank you,” Cal said as he sat back with his tea. “It’s best if they remain strangers to me. I can’t manage anyone else’s expectations at this point.”

“And if they reach out?” Master Tapal questioned.

“You think they will?” Cal asked and was kind of horrified.

“Cal,” Master Tapal said in a gentle tone, and his stomach sank. “The footage of you killing General Grievous is everywhere. I had a comm from a friend who is currently on Hoth two hours ago. He wanted me to tell you that he’d never laughed so hard in his life since he knows for a fact that Hoth has never and never will have a hot day.”

Cal laughed. “I know.” He sighed. “I don’t want to outright reject them; I just don’t think I can handle any of that stuff right now.”

“Well, let’s not borrow trouble as my dear friend Yaddle would’ve said,” Master Nu said firmly. “Drink your tea.” She closed the holobook.

Cal focused once more on his tea and took a deep breath as he started to relax. “Your Force presence is very soothing. You must have literally kicked your padawans out of the nest.”

Master Nu grinned. “More than one earned a boot, that’s for certain.”

* * * *

Cal sat down at the kitchen table where Merrin was with a datapad. She’d had the pad most of the day and he’d left her to the work since he knew she had many decisions to make for Dathomir that were her business alone.

“Hungry?”

“Yes, starving,” she murmured as she continued to read. “News of you killing General Grievous has reached Dathomir. Father Morge, the leader of the Nightbrothers, congratulated me on choosing such a successful and strong potential mate.”

Cal flushed. “Wow.” He got up and BD-1 immediately hopped off his shoulder in favor of browsing the synth. “What kind of protein would you like?”

“Something avian,” Merrin said. “And perhaps some beans as well. Those red ones from Master Tapal’s favorites list are nice. I liked the Ghoba rice from last week.”

BD-1 did the work and produced a bowl for Merrin full of various bird proteins, beans, and the Ghoba rice. Cal took the bowl to the table for her, and she plucked a spoon from the silverware basket in the middle of the table.

“I’ll take the same, BD,” Cal said. “It smells great.”

When he had his bowl, he joined her at the table. “You meditated with Cere this morning. How did that go?”

Merrin blushed. “I broke a lamp. I put it back together, but it doesn’t look quite right. I’m going to try again later. She said it’s normal but that we’d meditate in a training room going forward. What are you up to after dinner?”

“I need to make a repair to my lightsaber,” Cal said. “It took a hit yesterday, so I want to take it apart, clean it, and figure out what I need to get from the quartermaster.”

“Can I watch?” Merrin questioned.

“Yes, of course,” Cal said.

“Do you know how much damage it took?” Merrin questioned.

“It’s just cosmetic. I’ve got some carbon scarring on the blade emitter shroud,” Cal explained. “But having a dirty or badly maintained lightsaber isn’t a great look. Especially since I’m still a padawan. It would reflect poorly on Master Tapal.”

“Does lightsaber maintenance take a lot of time?”

“Not if you keep up a good schedule,” Cal said. “But if you let a lot of things slide, it can take hours to get it back into great working order. I’m considering a charging port for mine instead of my current configuration.”

“You have exchangeable power cells, right?”

“Yes, and I’d still like to keep on one in BD-1 for an emergency situation,” Cal said, and BD beeped his agreement. “But a charging port and mechanism would be easier on me as my training with the lightsaber gets more advanced. I already picked up those parts from the quartermaster with Master Tapal’s approval.”

A half-hour later, he had his lightsaber spread out on the table. He’d cleaned all the parts and made a list of things he’d need to replace. Not all of it was damaged, but he had it open, so he might as well change out some of the things that were older and wearing down.

“BD, add a crystal mount to the list,” Cal said as he picked up the primary crystal mount he’d carefully separated from his kyber crystal.

“Can I see that?” Merrin questioned, and he passed her the small piece of metal. She studied it and took a deep breath. “I could make this. Would that be okay?”

“You want to make my crystal mount out of midi-chlorians?” Cal questioned.

“Yes, would it be okay?” Merrin questioned again.

“I think so. Would it impact the power of my crystal? If so, I’ll probably have to get new, stronger modulators.”

“We’d have to check,” Merrin said. “But it wouldn’t hurt to try, right?”

“I think it would be fine,” Cal murmured, unaccountably excited.

He watched her study the metal mount for several long moments before she put it down, and ichor started to spin around in the palm of her hand. It took nearly ten minutes for the mount to form fully.

“You made the flower fast.”

“Yes, but it didn’t have any real purpose. I want to make sure this mount will be sturdy, and I want it to be as close to as indestructible as possible,” Merrin said, then offered it to him. “It’ll be nice for you to have it with you.”

“Yes,” Cal agreed. It meant he could carry a part of her no matter where he went. “BD, please just get the other stuff I need.”

“Okay,” BD-1 said cheerfully and left the apartment.

“I think he actually likes going on errands,” Merrin said thoughtfully.

And Cal nodded his agreement.

“Can we spar?” Merrin questioned.

“No.” Cal winced at his immediate but firm response, but he meant it. “I can’t risk hurting you, Merrin.”

“I’m strong,” Merrin said. “I can take care of myself. How am I supposed to gain muscle memory if I don’t spar?”

“Cere will handle your training for that,” Cal said quietly as he picked up a rag to start polishing the parts. “You are strong, and I don’t doubt it. You’re also precious, and it would be agonizing for me to cause you any sort of injury.”

Her hand wrapped around his wrist, and he looked up to meet her gaze. “I’m sorry, Cal.”

“For what?” Cal asked in confusion.

“I’m not what you need me to be.” She released him with a frown.

“I’m not disappointed in you, Merrin,” Cal said and focused on his task. “I’m just very aware of how dangerous I am. The fact is that I’d already had nearly two years of intense combat training by the time I was left on my own on Bracca. I had to fight to survive on Bracca as well.” She nodded. “And I’m not trying to coddle you or treat you like you’re weak. I know you aren’t weak. You’re the strongest person I’ll ever meet. In the future dreams, we did meet on more even ground when it came to a fight.

“Training will come to you, and the dreams will help you regain skills quickly. I know it has for me, but you have little to no current foundation for sparring with even a Jedi Padawan. It will come in time, Spacewitch. We both already know that Cere is an amazing fighter.”

She nodded. “Okay. A year from now, I’m going to ask that question again.”

“Then, I shall spend the next year preparing myself for a demoralizing defeat,” Cal said wryly, and she laughed.

Chapter 25

Cal settled into the co-pilot seat with Merrin on the Mantis with relief. They were going back to Dathomir, and all of the details appeared to be settled. The political and legal stuff had taken weeks, and he was ready to see something besides the temple walls.

“How’d things work out with the baby?” Greez questioned as he prepared the ship for take off.

“Both of her parents are dead,” Cal said. “The woman who brought her to Coruscant turned out to be a family friend, but I doubt the friend part a lot. She was caught on Gatalenta. The father was a member of the Order and in the Educational Corps. His name was Jorn Holdo, and his wife was Amora. Their daughter was orphaned when her parents were killed in a transport accident.” He cleared his throat. “A transport that was part of the Service Corps adjustments due to the Dathomir colonization.”

“Well, you can’t take that on as your own fault,” Greez warned.

“No, but it’s certainly a consequence of our actions,” Merrin said quietly, and Greez grunted. “We must accept that the changes we make will cause harm in ways that we can’t control. Our purpose is just, and everything we’ve done so far has been overwhelming to the good.”

Greez sighed. “Gambling has lost appeal. I can’t lose.”

Cal laughed.

“It’s not funny, kid,” Greez muttered. “I literally can’t lose. I tried!” He waved all four arms in disgust. “At any rate, I’ve more credits than I can ever spend, and I need a new hobby.”

“Master Tapal thinks you should create and sell synth recipes,” Cal said. “Did you get the royalties from the Republic for the umberhash?”

“Yes,” Greez said. “And an appeal for more as it’s become one of the most popular dishes in the GAR. I’ve been doing some research and experimenting. And I hired a droid. He’s charging.”

“The one from before?” Merrin questioned.

Greez grinned. “Yeah, I couldn’t help myself. Took me a bit to find him, but Monk hated that work and he’s looking forward to experimenting with synth recipes, too, for drinks and stuff.”

M-6NK, nicknamed Monk, had been the bartender in Greez’s saloon in the future. Cal had vague memories of the droid from the dreams, and they were good.

Master Tapal came into the cockpit and settled into the seat behind Greez. “We’re ready to depart when you are, Greez.”

“Any chatter about my passengers, Cere?”

Cal glanced over his shoulder where Cere was seated at the communications station. It was very much a comfort to see her there.

“No,” Cere said. “And the traffic comms are normal across the board.”

They lifted off gracefully, and Cal relaxed as they quickly left the planet. Because of how much he trusted Greez, it was very easy to let go of the worry that had settled on him while they’d been on Coruscant. Beside him, Merrin relaxed as well. He slid out of the chair as soon as they entered hyperspace and focused on Master Tapal.

“Take an hour for meditation then you can relax until we take command of the Albedo Brave.”

“Yes, sir,” Cal said. He opened the door and left the cockpit with a brief glance in Merrin’s direction.

They’d resolved to get used to being separate as quickly as possible, so she stayed with Cere as he walked through the ship. Master Tide had joined them on the trip back to Dathomir with her new padawan, Saux Cress. They were both sitting on the sofa, and Father Aaren was seated at the bar in the kitchen. BD-1 darted past him and jumped up onto the bar.

“We’re at best speed, Father Aaren, and should achieve orbit over Dathomir in just over four hours.”

“Thank you, Cal,” Father Aaren said with a quick smile as he set aside his datapad. “What’s on your agenda then?”

“An hour of meditation then, I need to review the current reports from the Albedo Brave. I downloaded the last set shortly before we left the temple,” Cal explained. “Then I need to read through what’s been done regarding the colonization situation and how many ships we can expect to receive in the next month. We have three light cruisers from the GAR joining us in patrolling the whole sector. It’ll elevate Master Tapal’s command to a regiment. I’ve got some reading to do on that subject.”

“Certainly,” Aaren said. “An unusual posting for a Jedi General. Do you think they’re preparing him to elevate him to the level of brigade?”

“If they’re easing him into it, I wouldn’t be surprised,” Cal said. “He prefers special ops missions versus major offenses, so a brigade isn’t all that appealing. Still, we’ll make do.” He rocked on his feet a little, then nodded as the older man just shook his head at him. “Master Tide, did you need anything before I go meditate?”

“We’re fine, Padawan Kestis,” Master Tide said and glanced toward her much smaller padawan, who was reading on a datapad. “Captain Greez showed us the synth and introduced us to the ship’s computer. We were told there is also a droid on board that can see to our needs as well.”

“Monk’s charging,” Cal said with a nod. “I’ll be in the back then. Master Tapal will probably stay in the cockpit the whole trip.”

Cal glanced toward Saux Cress and wondered how she was adjusting to her new situation but figured he wouldn’t get a real answer in such a public situation. He snagged BD-1 off the bar and trotted off back toward the back of the ship to find a spot to meditate. In the dream, he’d favored the workroom, so he settled there, and BD-1 sat down beside him.

Meditation came easily and it was a bit of a surprise since the task had been difficult on Coruscant due to stress. The situation with the Senate and Dathomir’s colonization had been very complicated, and the only highlight had been often they’d gotten to see the baby, Sela. Cal had decided that being a hold-parent was the best job ever, and Merrin agreed.

He relaxed into the Force and let his hands fall to his thighs. Cal opened his eyes and found himself standing in a large, cavernous room. The air was still and kind of stale. It looked familiar. It wasn’t like the structures on Jedha that he and Merrin had explored more than once in dreams. Their dream life made the pending physical separation seem tolerable.

BD-1 darted around his feet and Cal reached down to give him a hand up. He knew the droid hadn’t actually joined him in meditation, but he often ended up projecting a copy of BD-1 in both meditation and dreams alike. He walked around silently, taking in the temple structure as he started to recognize exactly where he was.

It looked different when he wasn’t having to fight for his life.

Tanalorr.

“This place drove Dagan Gera mad.”

“Did it?”

“You know that it did,” Cal said. “And I think it was starting to impact me as well before we time traveled. There’s something about this world—something about the perfection of it that is corruptive. Maybe it was the illusion of safety that seduced me at first. I wanted Tanalorr to be the answer. I wanted it to give me the safety that the Empire had taken from me, but nothing could replace what Order 66 took from me.”

“Do you blame me?”

“Free will exists for a reason,” Cal said. “I can’t blame you for Order 66 any more than I can blame you for the fact that the Sith exists. It wouldn’t be fair, would it?”

“Life isn’t fair.”

“True,” Cal said with a sigh. “I didn’t expect to be able to accomplish this kind of thing at my age. Master Tapal is going to be worried.”

“He sits with you even now. Would you like him to join you?”

“Yes,” Cal said.

“Offer him your hand.”

Cal reached out and his master appeared before him, his hand clenched around the older man’s fingers. Master Tapal stared at him for a long moment and knelt. “Sorry, she didn’t say I would just drag you down into my meditative state.”

“Fortunately, I was seated,” Master Tapal said gravely as Cal released his fingers. “You held out your hand for me, and I took it….” He exhaled slowly. “Where are we?”

“Tanalorr.” He bit down on his bottom lip briefly as Master Tapal stood. “I killed Bode Akuna in this room. He was so enraged that he almost murdered his own daughter when she pleaded with him to stop.”

“Why has the Force brought you to this place, Cal?” Master Tapal questioned.

“The planet haunts your padawan, Jaro.”

Master Tapal took in a deep and ragged breath. He bowed his head as his eyes fluttered shut. “My Lady, you honor me.”

“It is you who honors me—with your every breath—and I’m grateful, Jaro Tapal, by your service and dedication. Tanalorr is my birthplace. It is why one Jedi after another has fallen prey to the allure of the perfect beauty it offers.”

Cal shared a look with his master, and he hoped the older man was as shocked as he was. “You were alive once?” He flushed when rich laughter spilled out all around them. “Sorry.”

“No, sweet boy, it’s fine. I’m still alive. I will never truly die.”

“Ever?” Cal questioned.

“Never, ever,” the Force assured. “When I transitioned beyond a physical form, I cast what was left of my organic body out into the galaxy, and from those remains, life sprung. Even now, they continue to grow, replicate, and spread my legacy.”

“Are you the only one of your kind?” Cal questioned.

“I’m the very last of my kind,” the Force said. “I lived many thousands of years on Tanalorr as the others of my kind lived and died around me. I persisted in a way that confused me. The life forms your kind calls midi-chlorians were deeply invested in my body. As the others of my kind died, the ones they carried came to me—until I held within me all of the life energy of my species.

“Did you intend for the midi-chlorians to spread all over the galaxy?” Cal moved closer to his master as he walked toward the center of the room.

“After a fashion, I was curious as to what they would do without my soul to bind them together. It’s been so fascinating and rewarding to see life grow in this galaxy as it has.”

Cal nodded. “Many believe the Force to be the cradle of life in this galaxy.”

“I suppose that is true in a very basic way. The midi-chlorians encourage life, but they do not create it. In truth, life needs so little encouragement on most worlds. Though, it’s not always the kind of life that would appeal to those around you.

“Your burdens are many, Cal. I wanted to ask you now, after you’ve had time to come to terms with what you did, if you wish to keep the memories of the future. You can let them go. Everything will be fine if you do.”

Part of him was immediately tempted by the offer, but it felt like a deep injustice to throw away what the future version of himself had given him.

“The other me sacrificed so much to give me a chance to see things done differently,” Cal said.

“The Cal Kestis who did the ritual was a very good man,” the Force said. “He doubted it, but he never hesitated to do exactly what I needed him to do. Even the ritual itself was ultimately what I needed him to do. I never told him as such, and I would’ve never asked him to do it, but the Empire’s corruption was immense, and it was only going to get worse. The deaths of so many was agonizing, and Palpatine would’ve done so much worse going forward. But his memories and trauma are a deep burden for you.”

“Yes,” Cal agreed.

“I could carry the memories for you, Cal.” Master Tapal knelt in front of him and cupped his shoulder. “It would be my honor to do so.”

“Thank you, but…no.” Cal took a deep breath and put his hand on Master Tapal’s shoulder in return. “They’re a part of me and I know you said I should try to push all of the emotions into a different place because they weren’t truly mine. But I can’t. The memories belong to me, and so do the emotions. I lost so much, but I gained something as well. I came to know myself in a way that I never would’ve thought possible.

“It’s a gift to know already exactly what I’m capable of and that no matter how often I felt like no one could possibly love me, I am loveable.”

“Of course you are,” Jaro said. “Did you really think…why?”

“My parents gave up on me,” Cal said with a shrug. “You said it—you know—most parents do everything they can to keep their children. Maybe the situation was too dangerous for them to handle or maybe I just wasn’t the child they wanted. I wouldn’t have fit with their image or something. But, in the end, I grew up on a terrible world and made a friend who was so loyal that he died for me. He was the second person to die for me.”

“Don’t think he regretted it,” Master Tapal said. “I know I didn’t.”

“I regretted it so much for years,” Cal confessed. “I wished it had been me instead of you for so long that I just existed, and it messed up my connection with the Force.”

“Had you died instead of me, I’d have razed the entire planet of Bracca,” Master Tapal said gravely.

“Well, better that than letting the Empire have it,” Cal muttered, and his master laughed briefly. “Thank you for offering.”

“Of course,” Master Tapal said.

“I wanted to bring you to Tanalorr one final time, Cal, because I’ve destroyed every avenue left for any of your kind to ever come here again.”

“Good,” Cal said. “I don’t think this world is for us. What about Dagan Gera?”

“He was too dark for me to influence,” the Force confessed as Master Tapal stood and looked around the temple. “But Cere Junda has already taken care of that situation on my behalf.”

“And ZN-A4?” Cal questioned. “Do we have to just leave her there? She’s already been broken for over 200 years.”

“If you want, I can have the droid liberated by Master Cordova and brought to Dathomir.”

“I think Zee would like to be with the Jedi Order again,” Cal said. “And she shouldn’t have to spend eternity in that dusty old tomb. Merrin liked her. Maybe she could join her household on Dathomir.”

“Is that all that you would ask of me?”

“I have everything I need, my Lady.” He paused. “But you’ll keep Merrin safe, right?”

“I will do everything I possibly can to keep her safe,” the Force promised. “But you already know some things are beyond my control.”

“Yes, I understand,” Cal said. “I’ll do my part, too.”

“I know you will,” she said warmly. “Be at ease, little one, I’m always with you.”

Cal felt the Force shift, and Tanalorr fell away from his mind’s eye. He was glad to see it go. His master was seated in front of him when he opened his eyes. Master Tapal’s eyes opened shortly after his, and Cal released the older man’s hand.

“Thank you. That was amazing,” Master Tapal murmured. “I never thought I would hear the Force speak to me directly in my physical lifetime.”

Cal nodded slowly. “You know she’s gonna keep doing it, right?”

“What?” Master Tapal questioned, eyes wide with shock.

“Once she gets in your head, she doesn’t leave. Ever.” Cal shrugged. “Sorry.”

“I’m not upset,” Master Tapal said. “I think you have gotten inured to it, but having a direct connection to the Force at my age is the stuff of dreams. Yoda did not accomplish it until he was several hundred years old and most never have it. Most never even seek it since the process is so involved and there is no guarantee.”

Cal considered that and made a face. “I think if they realized how bossy she is, they’d probably not do it. Because with the bossiness comes the knowledge that she’s almost certainly right, and you feel like an idiot for wanting to do what you want instead of what she wants. You heard what she did to Greez.”

Master Tapal laughed. “I think his new hobby will be much less dangerous and less likely to get a bounty put on his head.”

“Granted, but also not being able to lose is a weird situation. You taught me that there are lessons to be found in failure, which is something I didn’t understand at all at first.” Cal wet his lips. “I understand it better after the dreams, you know. Failure is an opportunity, even when it’s bitterly disappointing. Some failures are easy to move on from, and some are so traumatic that you will never, ever be the same.”

“Do you see a difference between a failure and a mistake now?” Master Tapal questioned.

Cal made a face. Master Tapal had asked him that question shortly before offering to apprentice him. He’d said there was no difference and realized immediately he’d said was wrong thing.

“The first time you asked that question, I was sure that my wrong answer meant I wasn’t going to get an offer from you.”

“Do you know why I asked?”

“Probably because you’d been told by the instructors at the academy that I reacted badly when I didn’t accomplish a goal set by myself or others.”

“I was introduced to you for several reasons, and that was one of them,” Master Tapal said wryly. “You aren’t the first problem child sent my way. Still, despite this very overt flaw, you were sought after as a padawan. Even Master Windu had intentions toward offering you an apprenticeship if you were willing to wait another year for him.”

Cal grimaced. “I don’t think we’d have been a good fit.”

“No, agreed. He’d have found you very frustrating,” Master Tapal said.

“Mistakes happen,” Cal said. “But you can fail without making a single mistake, which is awful, and I’ve always thought it was inappropriate.”

Master Tapal grinned at him.

“Sometimes I fail because I make mistakes, and those are the circumstances that linger for me. If I do everything I can and still can’t do what needs to be done, then I have to accept it isn’t possible for me in the moment. But when I mess up…then I have to blame myself for the failure. Then, if I’m not careful I keep thinking about my mistake until I can’t think of anything else. Sometimes, I worry that I’ll make a big mistake and get someone killed.”

“If I learned anything in my lifetime, it’s that I can’t control everything and trying is emotionally damaging,” Master Tapal said and checked his chronometer. “We’re an hour out.”

“Really?” Cal groaned a little as they stood. “I have reports to read!”

“Yes,” Master Tapal said with a smile. “It’s why I came in here to get you.”

Cal trotted into the common area and found Merrin sitting on the floor with Saux and BD-1. The droid was projecting a game of shah-tezh for them. He watched Merrin prod one of her knights forward, and the little holographic figure attacked Saux’s knight with a sword. Both girls laughed in delight. Saux was three times Merrin’s size but still quite small for her species. It was interesting seeing her being so careful and gentle in Merrin’s space.

He pulled his datapad from his backpack and sat down on the sofa not far from Master Tide. It was relieving that he wasn’t nervous around her, as his dreams about her had been horrible. Master Tapal took a seat at the bar with Father Aaren and started working on his own datapad. The silence in the room was only interrupted occasionally by Merrin and Saux’s laughter. They were clearly delighted by their game, and neither were all that invested in actually winning. It looked more like an opportunity to have their pieces fight each other.

Cal focused on the reports he’d downloaded and made notes on various situations that he’d want to follow up on once Master Tapal resumed command of the ship. He noted that most of the troopers on the ship had gone through at least one session of identity counseling, and two, so far, had opted to have their gender reassigned. He highlighted that in the report and forwarded it to Master Tapal with a note to make sure he got the pronoun update for both Lt. Mac Strike, who worked on the command bridge, and Trooper Dale Frost, who was part of an aft turret unit.

“Thank you, Padawan,” Master Tapal said from behind him.

“You’re welcome, sir,” Cal murmured as he opened up the next report and started reading about the helmet upgrades.

He’d put in a request for the upgrade system that had been created to be implemented on the Albedo Brave and the request had been approved within hours. It had made him realize that he could use his social capital to make things easier for their troopers. But he’d made careful choices on that front and never without Master Tapal’s approval. All of the ground troopers had upgraded helmets, and the rest were on the schedule to be done. There was also a note from Lt. Whip that the entire battalion had received the phase II armor that had been in testing for six months. It was stronger but still not blaster-proof.

He started a comm about the potential for creating blaster proof body gloves out of the material that had been used to create the robes he and Merrin were given. But stopped and started a document to make a series of notes and make an outline for his proposal. Master Tapal always appreciated that format over an off-the-cuff suggestion that lacked details and clearly defined reasons for the request.

After creating an outline on the topic, he saved and closed the document so that he could read the rest of the reports. Then he opened it back up and added a question about how many strikes the material could withstand before it started to break down. Satisfied that he’d given himself enough to work with later, he went back to the reports.

“BD, can you set up the battle simulation you do for Cal to train with but make it a game?” Merrin questioned.

Cal glanced up and found BD doing as instructed. The girls separated their troops, assigned them colors, and started a full-scale battle with matching grins. He figured he shouldn’t find it amusing and kind of sweet, but he did. He noted they both had troopers and Jedi knights. There was a third faction of droids. He prodded the droid leader with the Force, and the droid took out some of their troopers. He just quirked an eyebrow when they both turned to stare at him.

“Challenge is good for you.”

BD-1 kicked the droid leader’s hologram and knocked him over, which made Master Tide laugh loud and hard. Cal went back to his reports since even his own droid was against him. There wasn’t a single report written by Talon Knof. He hadn’t expected any from the command level since Master Frantar’s padawan wasn’t her executive officer. Cal could see that Jedi Commander Knof was signing off on engineering tasks every single day, and he worked upwards of ten hours a day.

He could admit that he found his fellow padawan’s circumstances so off-putting that he was looking for fault in his work product. Maybe it was more about his own position in his master’s life. He glanced toward Saux, a brand new padawan who wouldn’t serve in the GAR at all. There were plenty of padawans who wouldn’t come out of the war without a record of military service.

Cal closed the last of the reports and stood quietly. He walked through the ship to the cockpit and closed the door. He slid into the co-pilot seat and took a deep breath.

“What’s up, kid?”

“Did you need anything?”

“Monk already brought me some food and drink. He’s down in the engine hatch checking out the upgrades so that his specs match the ship instead of the manual he’d downloaded. He’s the detail-oriented type.” Greez looked his way. “Something bothering you?”

“One of Master Tapal’s former padawans is currently in command of the Albedo Brave, and she has a padawan. They’re both Lasats. I’m Master Tapal’s first Human padawan. Did you know that?”

“I didn’t,” Greez said. “Is he a problem?”

“No, not at all. In fact, he appears to do exactly what his master expects him to do.” Cal huffed. “But it’s nothing like what I do.”

“There are plenty of padawans in the GAR doing your job, right?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“And you’re doing exactly what your master asks of you.”

“Yes,” Cal said firmly and huffed. “I can’t explain my discomfort on this subject, Greez. I’m floundering a bit on the topic, and I guess it doesn’t matter since they’ll be heading back to Coruscant.”

“It matters,” Greez said. “You need to figure out what your problem is and deal with it. Is it a bad feeling? Is it a Force issue? Is it about the Purge?”

“What do you mean?” Cal questioned quietly.

“Well, he died, right? When Order 66 was put into motion…where would he have been?”

“In the engineering section of whatever ship she was in command of,” Cal murmured. “There would’ve been over a hundred troopers between Master Frantar and her padawan. He’d have been…executed, probably before she could’ve fought her way to him.” Cal’s eyes fluttered shut, and his breath hitched. “Maybe he didn’t even see it coming. I hope he didn’t. I hope none of them did.”

“And you survived,” Greez said quietly. “Because your master fought for you until the very end.”

“Yes,” Cal nodded.

“Having gotten to know him, just a little….” Greez sighed. “He’s a very good person, Cal, and I’m not surprised at all that he sacrificed everything for you.”

Cal nodded. “I hope that I’d do the same.”

“You certainly tried to do the same repeatedly,” Greez muttered, and Cal laughed. “I mean it, kid, you were a reckless little jerk all the damned time.”

“Fighting the Empire seemed my duty in the dream,” Cal said. “It’s different now, Greez. I have a different duty—a better one.”

“Certainly,” Greez said. “And I’ve got your back, kid, just like in the before.” He paused. “And I’m still looking forward to the very pale two-armed grandbabies.”

Cal laughed and flushed. “I remember you saying that—from before.”

Greez just grinned at him.

* * * *

There were two large frigates, one dreadnaught, and two acclamator-class assault ships in orbit above Dathomir. The frigates were private ships sent from Bracca engineering firms. Cal knew that Prauf was on one of the ships because he was one of the engineers that he’d personally picked. He’d made the selection amongst over a thousand applications that the GAR had received and funneled to Master Tapal as part of the colonization endeavor.

“What are these ships?” Merrin questioned as she came to stand beside him at the Albedo Brave’s holotable.

“They’re all here for you,” Cal said. “Two of them are engineering and construction ships from Bracca—the Observer and the Frontier. They’re civilian-owned and operated, but they’ve agreed to work under General Tapal and take his orders as part of the contract with the Republic. The other three are GAR ships.”

He called up the biggest of them first. “This is the Colossus. It’s a dreadnaught, and one of the bigger troop transports in the GAR. There are over 20,000 troopers on board the ship and an officer corp. They’re armed for air, ground, and space combat. A Jedi General and her padawan are on board that ship as of our arrival.”

“General Tide?” Merrin questioned, and Cal nodded. “Good.” She took a deep breath. “The others?”

“They’re both acclamator-class assault ships, and they’re crewed by a battalion each. Captain Ello Rall, a female Mirialan, who joined the Grand Army of the Republic shortly after the clone wars began, is in command of the Striker. She has a decades-long military background from serving in the military on her homeworld. The second ship is called the Invictus and Captain Ceza Lusch who also joined the GAR shortly after the Battle of Geonosis. She’s from the planet Mon Cala and is a Mon Calamari.”

“Did they put females in charge of those ships to placate me?” Merrin questioned.

Cal glanced toward his master but figured the older man wasn’t going to give him an answer. “Yes, of course.” And he shrugged when she frowned. “It’s the truth. They’re trying to increase your comfort level, and the fact that your planet is matriarchal can’t be overlooked.”

“Does it bother you?” Merrin questioned.

“Not in the least. I like powerful females,” Cal said and grinned when she huffed again.

“He’s serious,” Master Tapal said dryly as he walked away from them.

BD-1 hopped down onto the holotable and settled there with a pleased beep.

“I have to go down now,” Merrin said with a frown as she stared at the ships. “I’ve missed Dathomir, but I’m sure they’re just waiting to pile an immense amount of work on me.”

“Just be prepared to dismiss them whenever you’re done,” Cal said. “They can’t put you in charge then ignore your instructions when it suits them. It’s an either-or situation. Either they accept your regency as they should, or they figure out who amongst them to put in charge so they can leave you alone.”

“I’ll remind them of that,” Merrin said. “Do those ships know not to get aggressive with Greez?”

“Yes, of course,” Cal said. “Master Tapal has given them their orders regarding the Mantis and the civilian contractor ships. Do you want to meet the captains? I can request they come over here for introductions.”

“No, not today,” Merrin said with a small frown. “I should focus on my council and prepare them for the return of Padmé Amidala. They’ll be pleased with her, in part because she’s carrying babies, and the witches of Dathomir are largely baby crazy. But they’ll probably be irritated that I’ve already made the senator decision without their input and lecture me like a child despite me being in charge.”

He laughed.

Merrin trotted away from him. “Master Tapal! Cal has terrible manners.”

“It’s an ongoing issue, little one,” Master Tapal said and grinned when she crossed her arms and came to stand with him between the two command bays. “Ready to go home?”

She shrugged, and Cal focused on the table. He finished reviewing the current assignments on the holotable and closed the report.

“If you’re ready, Merrin, I’ll walk you down to the Mantis.”

“Okay,” Merrin agreed.

Cal looked toward his master and got a firm nod. Father Aaren hadn’t left the Mantis at all, as he’d been bombarded with communications from Dathomir as soon as they’d left hyperspace. The HoloNet repeater in orbit above the planet was working overtime. Merrin had also purchased two crates of datapads to work with as she figured out what kind of government the people of Dathomir would have.

She took his hand as the lift doors shut, and he chose the floor.

“That’s not where the docking bay is.”

“No, we’re going to make a stop on the way down,” Cal murmured. “Cere wants you to have a transceiver. It’s a device connected to an announcement system that all members of the Jedi Order carry. The quartermaster will have one, and I’d like you to have a personal commlink so that we can have private communication. I sent a note to the quartermaster already, so he should have both devices ready when we arrive. You’ll be able to marry your comm device to your datapad and send me comms that way as well. Plus, I hear he has the liquid-cable launcher you asked for.”

“Good.” Her fingers laced with his as they left the lift and walked down the hall. “You didn’t dream last night.”

“I haven’t had a Force dream for over a week,” Cal said. “When I meditated, the Force took me to Tanalorr. She said she’s destroyed the way to go back there and agrees that it’s not healthy for the Jedi to be on the planet because it’s her world of origin.”

Merrin stopped walking, eyes wide. “What?”

“Yeah, it was a lot. I’ll share the whole thing with you tonight when we dream.” He flushed. “If that’s something you still want to do. You haven’t…dreamt with me in a while, either.”

“I’ve been trying to respect your space,” Merrin said with flushed cheeks and her eyes darkened with tears. “Father Aaren lectured me about intruding on your mental space without permission. He was very concerned that my abilities could be considered intrusive because we’d never discussed it. And I hadn’t had a chance to really speak to you about it in private. Also, I want to apologize for doing it in the first place. I should’ve stopped once I realized that we were actually sharing my dreams instead of yours. I just missed you so much.”

Cal looked around and pulled her carefully with him as he searched for an empty office space. There were several on the floor they were on since they weren’t needed. He opened a door and led her into the room then shut it. After a moment’s hesitation, he locked it.

He pulled her close and let his forehead rest against hers. “Listen, Spacewitch, no one’s ever going to understand our circumstances. Not even Greez and Cere. Our Force bond is so intense that I’m actually aware of when your catamenial cycle begins and ends.”

“Sorry?” she said with a laugh, and he laughed with her. “Do you get the cramps, too?”

“No, but I do know when you’re uncomfortable because of it,” Cal admitted. “I don’t know if that is new to us or if I was aware of you that way in the future as well.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t remember the specifics, you know, but I do know we were lovers. We are as intimately bound as two individual people can be. Father Aaren was trained as a Jedi, and mental privacy is immensely valuable to us. I’d never wish to share my mental space or my dreamscape with just anyone. But you’re not just anyone. You’re…everything. You’re my past, present, and future.”

“I love you,” she whispered, and his eyes fluttered shut briefly. “I’d never want to hurt you—in any single way.”

“You’ve never hurt me,” Cal said. “You never will. I want to dream with you as often as possible for the rest of my life. Never doubt it.”

Merrin moved closer, lifted up, and pressed her mouth against his. Part of him thought he should back away, that maybe a kiss on the mouth was too soon, too fast. But he couldn’t stop, for many reasons, but chief among them was that kissing Merrin was everything he’d wanted since the first time he’d dreamt of her. She’d kissed him, in a future-dream, and he’d been kind of dumb about it. So, this time, he kissed her back, a soft brushing of lips that felt sweet, perfect, and decadent.

Cal lifted his head and took a deep breath. “We should be careful.”

“I know. It would be so easy to rush this because of what we know from before.” She smiled then. “But I liked it.”

“I did, too,” Cal admitted. “And I love you—I’m full to the brim with it, and I feel like I’ve been this way since I woke up from that first dream.” He cleared his throat and stepped back from her. “Let’s visit Lt. Whip, and I’ll deliver you to the Mantis before Cere comes looking for us and we get a lecture.”

Merrin laughed.

Ten minutes later, Cal watched the Mantis lift off and leave the docking bay with a heavy heart. He hated to watch part of his family leave him, but he couldn’t make himself leave the docking bay either. Master Tapal came to stand with him.

“She kissed me,” Cal blurted out. “On the mouth.”

“Did you act like an idiot, or did you kiss her back?” Master Tapal questioned.

“I wasn’t an idiot,” Cal said firmly, and his master laughed.

“Come then, we have training to do and many tasks to handle. The colonization has already begun even if not a single ship has arrived.”

Somehow, it wasn’t a daunting thought at all. Cal turned and followed his master out of the docking bay. A mixture of relief and peace swirled around him. The risk he’d taken with his very soul had resulted in the most rewarding possible future he could’ve imagined.

The End