A Young Girl’s War Between the Stars

  65

  Mandalore. 36 BBY/964 GSC.

  I don’t have to let all the atmosphere out. Just… crack the door and get some fresh vacuum to shut these two up.

  The pair of bickering girls thankfully fell silent and rushed up to the cockpit as the ship bumped with reentry. Both stared at the holo display of the space around us and the planet below.

  “It’s a desert,” Allaya finally commented, frowning. “Boring!”

  I could feel Asajj agreed, but at least she was silent about it. “Is this our destination?”

  “It’s a layover,” I explained, idly tapping out a message on my computer and sending it off. “We need supplies and there are some things we should take care of while we’re here. I have an offer to extend and the two of you have a decision to make, but that’s after I speak with the head of my clan.”

  That was all the explanation they needed on that front. They may be children, but by now they both had at least a basic grasp of clan politics. However, it did bring up another question.

  “I thought you were part of the Singing Mountain clan?” Allaya asked, and Asajj nodded, both looking at me curiously.

  “I am,” I confirmed.

  The shorter girl followed it up, “But you’re also part of another clan?”

  “Yes. A Mandalorian clan, led by Jaster Mereel. He’s the one who adopted me into the clan.”

  The redhead studied me for a moment before asking, “So… you’re both?”

  “And a Jedi,” I nodded. “Now, hush. We’re about to land.”

  Silence fell as the pair leaned against my seat and watched as I guided us in, passing into the domed city of Sundari and bringing the Rusted Silver in for a landing. We touched down and I undid the belt holding me in place. Standing, I stretched as I made my way back to the door. Arthree beeped and rolled after us as I opened it, while a check of my senses showed Catya was sleeping.

  The three of us—four counting the droid—made our way out of the ship and I locked up behind us. I let out a quiet sigh as I started walking towards the shuttle area, enjoying the break from the near constant bickering any time the two weren’t studying or doing exercises. We were met by a speeder piloted by a Mando wearing full armor, minus the helmet.

  “Alor’itsad Mereel,” the man saluted, and I returned it.

  “I’m out of uniform, private. And the younglings don’t speak Mando’a.”

  “Apologies, ma’am,” he nodded, switching to Galactic Basic. “They sent me to get you.”

  “Thank you.” I directed the girls and Arthree into the back of the speeder and climbed into the front passenger seat. A moment later, we were off and merging into traffic, sticking to the middle level between the buildings clinging to the ceiling and those rising up from below. “Any news?”

  The man hummed for a moment, considering. “Well, if you don’t mind scuttlebutt…”

  “Go ahead.” It helped to keep an ear to what the enlisted men thought, both to judge the temperature of morale and to catch wind of any nasty rumors circulating and cut them off before they caused problems.

  “You know we’ve been building up as fast as we can for the last few years,” he led, and I nodded.

  “Mandalore, Serenno, and every other planet Master Dooku can rope into this alliance.”

  The man continued, “There are rumors of some sort of fleet op soon. No one’s sure where or what, just that a lot of new ships are making ready and a lot of people are being marked for extended deployment. But since the Trade Federation have cut off Mandalore and there are rumors about them sending ships to blockade Serenno…”

  I blinked, raising an eyebrow. “That would be a mistake,” I murmured.

  It would be the opening volley of the war. The first shots fired. Serenno and Master Dooku wouldn’t take an official blockade lying down, and Mandalore would surely answer by sending ships to reinforce them.

  This is it, then. If this is true, then things are about to kick off in a big way.

  I sat in silent thought as the car slowed and we left the flow of traffic behind, dropping down and landing on the top of the familiar government building where I knew Satine and Jaster kept their offices. The speeder car came to a stop and I thanked the private as I hopped out and the others followed.

  A secretary met us at the door and led us inside, and down to the office Satine and Jaster shared. The pair looked up as we entered, Satine’s eyes going wide as she spotted the girls. “Who’s this?”

  The woman got up and moved around her desk, smiling as she approached. Jaster stood as well, moving around his desk and leaning against the front of it, studying the two girls with interest, keen eyes assessing them in the same way I remembered him assessing me. He immediately singled out Asajj, his interest obvious to my senses.

  I laid a hand on Allaya’s shoulder. “My Padawans. This is Allaya Djo. Daughter of Augwynne Djo… and Master Dooku.”

  “He mentioned having a daughter, but I didn’t realize she was this old,” Satine mused, nodding as she smiled down at the redhead. “I’m Satine Kryze, a friend of your father and Master.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Allaya nodded, and I could feel she was a bit unsure, but forced herself to appear calm and put on her best polite act.

  Satine turned that smile on Asajj. “And who’s your friend?”

  “Asajj,” the girl answered simply.

  I laid my other hand on her shoulder and squeezed softly. “Her clan traded her to pirates. She had nowhere else to go, so I took her with me.”

  “A foundling, then,” Jaster spoke up.

  “I wanted to consult with you before making the offer. What’s involved?”

  Jaster chuckled. “The same thing that you went through. Recite the words and follow the Resol’nare. Then when she’s old enough, take her for a dip in the waters. We just went through all of yours at once. As far as duties, it’s not much different from what you’re already doing as her Master—at least, from what I’ve gathered from Dooku. But to spell it out, it’s adoption. It’d also make her a citizen.”

  “I see,” I murmured.

  There were many advantages to going through with it—many of which I had taken advantage of myself. But the most immediate advantage was that it gave me more legal rights if the Jedi High Council decided they wanted to try to snake my Padawan. While they could try to make the argument for putting her in the general student pool, taking her in as an Initiate, and eventually letting a Master choose her, as her legal guardian I could refuse and then continue on as I had been as her Master.

  Allaya didn’t have quite the same benefit, being that I couldn’t adopt someone whose parents were both still alive and she hadn’t actually been abandoned… but being that her mother was alive and Dathomir was a political issue for the High Council, I didn’t think they wanted that fight. Especially not when I could just call her up, explain the situation to her, and she could refuse them herself. On the other hand, that didn’t mean she couldn’t be brought into the clan and given similar protections, while also allowing me to skip having to call her mother. If she were part of the clan, as her elder and the one responsible for her, I’d have the legal authority to shut them down if they complained.

  Assuming Master Dooku didn’t get to them first—that is, if he wasn’t hiding their relation. I wasn’t sure how he wanted to handle that. I would have to ask the next time I spoke to him.

  Looking down to Asajj, I asked, “Is that what you want? You don’t have to make a decision—”

  “Yes.”

  “—today.” I blinked. “Okay. Ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad, Asajj.”

  The girl radiated expectation for a moment, before asking, “That’s it?”

  “That’s it, aside from the paperwork,” I nodded.

  Jaster tapped something on his holocom, before grinning. “Already sent off. Should be processed within the hour.”

  “Excellent.” Looking to Allaya, I said, “I can’t do the same for you, but if you want, I can extend the offer to join the clan.”

  The redhead thought about it for a few moments before glancing at Asajj. “I’ll do it.”

  “You should at least hear out what it means—”

  Allaya shook her head, and I could feel her stubborn pride. “I’ve made up my mind!”

  Jaster and Satine laughed, while I sighed quietly. “Very well. On to business, then.” I turned my attention to the two other adults in the room. “I’ll need to get them fitted for armor—”

  “Get yourself a new set,” Jaster reminded, and I nodded.

  “I’ll outgrow it in six months, but fine. A temporary set,” I agreed. “Then I need to pick up some things for them for an extended wilderness survival mission. Clothes, supplies, weapons, provisions. And while I’m here, there are some things I’d like to discuss, about the Republic Army—or what passes for it.”

  “Let’s sit down,” Satine nodded, moving over to her desk.

  We followed, with Jaster grabbing a couple of seats for the girls. Once we were seated, the Mand’alor crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “We’ve read the reports. Sounds like it’ll take them a while to get their shit together.”

  “It will,” I confirmed. “We know the Trade Federation intends to use armies of battle droids and hover tanks, and from the financial records, they’re building a variety of other droids to fill various roles that traditional ground vehicles and weapons platforms would. Having seen what the Republic has available at the moment, I have to ask, how are we set on ground combat?”

  The pair of leaders shared a look. Satine’s answer was spoken with the sort of tone I imagined she used when addressing most uncomfortable subjects. “It’s something we’re working on.”

  “It’s a major weak point,” Jaster countered flatly, to Satine’s annoyance. “MandalMotors is prototyping a revamp of the old Canderous tank. We’ve got the Buirk’alor speeder that can be up-armed and armored. But that’s about it. If we have to engage in ground battle, we’re relying on dropping Mando teams jetpacks in from Kom’rk transports, hitting hard and fast to make a beachhead, then using larger ships to drop in anything needed to fortify a position. We’re not equipped for any sort of knock down, drag out land battle. There are a few other planets in this little alliance cranking out some toys—hover tanks, mobile artillery, missile batteries, and AA. That sort of thing.”

  “Speeders are fast, but they aren’t exactly fuel efficient, nor are they truly cut out for all terrain activity—especially not when you’d have to fly one over the canopy, which would show up on sensors,” I mused, and the man nodded. “So we don’t have anything to properly fill the role of ground transport. It sounds like we need a Jeep. We should also consider some sort of lightly armored, all terrain weapons platform…”

  “I’m sorry, a what? What’s a ‘jeep?’” Satine asked, confused.

  Blinking, I chuckled. “A small all terrain ground vehicle. Cheap. Light. Narrow. Relatively high off the ground. Extremely fast to produce. Modular attachment points so soldiers can modify them in the field to attach equipment such as sensors or weapons. Capable of seating four to eight passengers, depending on how you design them. Somewhere to mount and store supplies. Preferably capable of towing a small trailer with more supplies.”

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  “It sounds like a death trap,” the woman muttered, but Jaster looked thoughtful.

  “Let me guess. Little to no armor?” he asked, and I nodded.

  “None,” I confirmed. “Preferably a cloth top if you need to use it in inclement weather.”

  The Jeep, as it was originally designed, was one of the tools that helped win World War Two, back in my first life. The design was so good that it was adopted by multiple armies the world over, including my homeland after the war, and remained in service in most of them for over fifty years before it was eventually replaced.

  Satine looked confused. “Why wouldn’t you put armor on it?”

  “Because you’re not necessarily going into battle with it. Not directly,” I shook my head. “The best strategy is to drop in troops with light vehicles twenty or more miles away, then drive in closer to the enemy, moving around the terrain and obscuring their positions if the enemy was made aware of them. You could then make camp and set up to observe or attack the enemy. When you get close, you can leave them behind and move on foot to the area of operation. When you’re ready to evacuate they’re there, allowing you to stay low and hidden if you’ve got any sort of tree cover, while you make distance from the enemy. If you have to, you can abandon them, and you’ve lost very little. If you wanted to harden them while not increasing the cost too much, you could install a fighter grade shield and power attachments for weapons like heavy repeating blaster cannons.”

  Jaster nodded along, a grin forming on his face. “Sounds especially good for regular troops. Then we could save the drop teams for higher priority ops and not spread them thin.”

  “Exactly,” I agreed. “Also, if we come into conflict with the Republic, from my observations their land based equipment is all slow. Even the smallest of their walkers is cumbersome and clumsy. Visibility from inside is awful and they suffer from the same design flaw as Republic ships—that being, they put the most important part outside the armor. One well-placed shot will eliminate the pilot and controls, rendering those that I worked with immobile. They’re also susceptible to being tripped and knocked over, most especially from the side. Pit traps would be amazingly effective against them. We could easily build a counter to most of them.”

  “What would you suggest?” the older man asked, and I carefully suppressed the smile that threatened to slip off.

  “Two things. Firstly, a physical precision weapon capable of attacking from outside of their engagement range.”

  Satine chuckled quietly. “So the same trick we’re pulling with the ships, then?”

  “Yes. A small railgun, recoilless rifle, optically tracked wire guided missile, or any one of a number of other weapons capable of an alpha strike would be ideal. Take out the cockpit, then deal with the occupants at your leisure. Or ignore them and move on,” I supplied.

  “I like it,” Jaster nodded. “And the other?”

  “We have bipedal, humanoid droids. The idea of a walker has been around for ages. So… why aren’t we using bipedal, humanoid walkers? Mecha.”

  At that, the man raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

  “A walker designed after a human. Two arms, two legs, torso, head, human walking gait, hands,” I explained.

  I had initially been excited at the idea of getting to play with walkers, but the reality had disappointed. The chicken walkers the Republic issued us on Felucia were awful. Their gait and stance were awkward, which was the main reason for why they were so clumsy. They had no way to counter balance or recover themselves, either. It was honestly just pathetic.

  Yes, being a military otaku, I loved blasters. And space laser swords. Star ships from my fighters to capital ships. Missile barrages. Big fucking guns. Seeing railgun effects up close honestly did things for me. Droids were very cool and I wanted to get or build a humanoid one of my own, preferably covered in synthetic skin—I had seen Ghost in the Shell and I wanted that.

  But I was still Japanese at heart!

  My heart yearned for giant mecha! Machines so fast, so agile, that they could utterly trounce everything they came up against. Lightsabers big enough to cleave a capital ship in two! Beam cannons that could annihilate entire fleets of enemies!

  Metal Gear! Gundam! Armored Core! Macross!

  “Arms are expensive,” Satine shrugged.

  I blinked, pulled out of my very brief fantasy of piloting some mech and stomping all over the Trade Federation and Republic forces while laughing. Staring at her, I reached up and wiggled a finger in my ear. “Excuse me? I must have misheard. Could you repeat yourself?”

  Satine smirked. “I said, arms are expensive. Why bother, when you can just stick a hull on some legs and mount weapons all over it.”

  I considered her for a moment, eyes narrowing. “I see a demonstration is in order,” I murmured.

  Standing, I poked Allaya in the side. “Get up.”

  “Huh? Me?” she asked, and I nodded.

  “Yes, you.” When she stood, I instructed, “Hold your arms tight against your side, then walk across the room.”

  The redhead frowned, but did so—if a bit awkwardly. Moving over to the halfway point of the room, I said, “Now turn around and go back.”

  When she walked past me, I reached out and pushed her shoulder. Allaya recovered as any normal human would—by widening her stance and using her arms to help her balance. I turned and sent Satine a raised eyebrow, before prodding Allaya. “You failed, Padawan. Hands at your side, then do it again. Keep them there.”

  “But I’ll fall over!” she protested.

  “Yes. You’ll be fine.”

  The girl huffed, but did as I told her. This time, she forced herself not to recover using her arms and as predicted, fell over since I’d given her a bit more oomph. “Now get up.” She started to move and I added, “Without your arms.”

  I turned and held Satine’s gaze as Allaya struggled, before eventually managing it. Satine sighed. “Alright, you’ve made your point.”

  “No, I don’t think I have. But I’m about to,” I countered, before looking to Allaya. Patting her head, I pushed her gently towards her chair. “Go sit down,” I instructed, and she nodded. Moving back to the desk, I pulled my sidearm and flipped it around, offering it to Satine. “Hold this.”

  “And what am I supposed to do with this?” the blonde asked.

  “You’ve been equipped with a weapon instead of a hand. Now pick up your tea cup,” I nodded towards the cup on her desk.

  Satine frowned, glancing down at the cup and the pistol in her hand, before she sighed and offered it back. “I suppose now you’ve made your point. Arms and hands have their uses. But on a walker? To what end?”

  “Anti-walker combat, for one,” I shrugged. “If they’re going to rely heavily on walkers in the future, it wouldn’t hurt to have our own that can out-maneuver and eliminate them.”

  “And who’s going to finance this boondoggle?” the blonde asked.

  Was that a hint of petty spite I detected? She wouldn’t be petty just because I had made her question look stupid, would she? That would be immature.

  “So you’re not going to just throw both ideas at MandalMotors and let them and their unlimited R&D budget get to work?”

  Satine scoffed. “No.”

  “For the transports, maybe,” Jaster said. “Needs a better name than ‘jeep’ though.”

  I frowned. Thinking it over, I eventually nodded. “Fine. I’ll do it myself. I have resources and money. I’ll get some of my people to start scouting and hiring, and just… build a company from the ground up. And then I’ll sell you jeeps at three times what it costs to produce them.”

  To my surprise, Satine smiled—and I could tell that made her happy. “Only three? I’ll hold you to that.”

  “Why are you happy about that? It’s not just the cost,” I mused, studying her. “…Did you goad me into deciding to make my own weapons manufacturing company?”

  “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the annoying woman smiled. She paused for just a moment, before quietly adding, “But if I had, wouldn’t you say I played you marvelously?”

  My eye twitched. “I am going to strangle you.”

  The insufferable woman’s smile morphed into a grin. “You could, but we both know Obi would be sad.” An annoyed sound escaped my throat and she laughed. “Oh, come now! Don’t be so upset. After all, I got you a present.”

  “There’s not much you could do to—”

  She cut me off. “The Redoubt is yours.” My mouth clicked shut. “She’s one of Cid’s new toys and has all of the latest improvements. Technically, she’s the property of the navy, but in reality the ship has been assigned to you. At Count Dooku’s behest, I had her moved to follow you as soon as we knew where you were being deployed for your field test. They were waiting outside the system when you showed up in my bedroom.”

  I worked my mouth for a moment before asking, “Why?”

  “Things are coming soon. Within the next few months, in fact. Count Dooku will officially announce the formation of a Confederation of Independent Systems, with himself as our elected head of state—along with our official secession from the Republic. You can’t very well represent the Confederacy in an official capacity from a fighter, or a stealth ship. Someone acting as the hand of the Confederacy leadership requires a flagship.”

  “I’m just going to be training these two for the next two years or so, then I plan to enroll in the Republic’s naval war college at Anaxes. I’m not going to be doing anything official—” I started to protest, only for Jaster to sigh.

  “Kid…” he began, and I snapped my gaze to him. “The galaxy’s a dangerous place and it’s getting more dangerous by the day. You came close to biting it on Felucia. Close enough you felt the need to call for help, and even as close as the Redoubt was, she nearly didn’t make it in time. I’ve read the reports. Wherever you go, they’re going with you.” I frowned, and he continued. “Not to keep you out of trouble. But if you do find trouble—”

  “More like when trouble finds her,” Satine threw in, and Jaster fought down a grin.

  “Or that. When that happens, you’ll have something to uneven the odds,” the older Mando finished.

  Satine picked up from there. “Given your position, and your penchant for finding yourself caught up in situations, we feel this is a justified precaution on our part. You’ll rejoin the Redoubt in orbit when you leave and she’ll ferry you to your meeting with Count Dooku.” Glancing at my two Padawans, she added, “Besides, I’m sure you and your Padawans will appreciate having some more space to move about in.”

  “She’s got a class one hyperdrive too, so that should knock some time off the trip,” Jaster added.

  It’d halve the trip, I realized. Doing some math using my computation orb and calculating the distances involved, that’d put us at five days of travel from Mandalore to Jedha. Ten days if I took the Rusted Silver and relied on her hyperdrive alone.

  The galaxy was large, and its many worlds were spread out—some much further than others. And if I wanted to find what I was looking for, I needed to get off the main hyperspace lanes and start looking in places off the beaten path. Places a wandering Jedi may have traveled to, but which for whatever reason, hadn’t attracted more people. I had a list of such places, in fact. A few were even relatively close to Jedha, and the Deep Core would be much safer to explore in a larger ship. Likewise, a trip out to the ass end of the Outer Rim would be made much easier and faster.

  “Very well. Thank you. For the ship, and your concern,” I nodded.

  “Now,” Satine clapped her hands together and stood with a grin. “You mentioned needing to get clothes for your Padawans. We should make a trip of it.”

  I resisted the urge to groan audibly. “Robes, Satine. Robes and a few other things. I’m not having them wear armor into the Temple. I don’t want to deal with the headaches that will cause.”

  That hardly seemed to discourage the woman at all. I sent Jaster a look asking for help, but what I got in return said I was on my own. “Head down to the armory when you’re done and get some armor. And pick up some weapons for those two.”

  “Fine. Let’s get this over with,” I grumbled, standing and motioning for the pair of Padawans and Arthree to follow. Looking to Satine, I asked, “Obi-Wan isn’t here?”

  “She and Master Qui-Gon didn’t stay long,” the blonde woman answered, and I nodded. “I believe she said they were going back to wherever you Jedi have moved your temple to.”

  I sent her a knowing look. “Either she told you, Master Dooku did, or you’re going to find out when the Redoubt reports.”

  “I know where it is,” she confirmed.

  “Good. Then you won’t mind me ordering the Redoubt to go radio silent when we drop in system and for our location to be withheld from the crew. If the location leaks, I don’t want it to be from me.”

  Satine nodded. “That’s fine. Now tell me, how are you really?”

  “…I’d rather not talk about it.”

  “That bad?” she asked quietly, and I nodded. “I’ll leave it lie, then. But if you need someone to talk to…”

  Taking the offer on its face and in the spirit it was given, I mumbled a quiet, “Thanks.”

  Sitting on the floor of my guest room in Satine’s home, I looked at Allaya and Asajj sitting across from me. The entirely too energetic redhead yawned, then blinked and shook her head.

  “I thought we were done for the night,” she complained.

  “We’re done with exercises and lessons for the night. There’s one more thing to do, however,” I explained, before patting my lap.

  Allaya frowned, but moved closer and sat between my legs as I made room for her, directing her to turn sideways. “What are we doing?”

  Reaching up, I adjusted her hair before taking a bit at the side behind her right ear and starting to work it into a braid. “It’s traditional for a Jedi Padawan to braid part of their hair, to signify their rank and status.”

  “Like yours?” Allaya asked, and I nodded.

  In front of us, Asajj frowned, reaching up to run her hand over the stubble on her head. “I don’t have any hair.”

  “I’ll fix that when I’m done,” I promised as I worked quickly.

  When I got to the end of the braid, I tied it around a small ring of songsteel. It was just a bit left over from what I’d used to make my spare computation orb. A little wasteful, perhaps, but I thought the girl might appreciate the gesture and the reminder of home.

  “You’re done,” I said, and gave the redhead a push to get her moving. Asajj took her place a moment later, looking unsure. Luckily for her, I knew what I was doing. I’d had more than enough experience with healing lately to know exactly how to regrow missing hair, and only regrow the hair if I wanted.

  The girl’s eyes nearly popped out of her skull as fresh, blonde hair sprouted from her head. I didn’t stop until it got down to her neck. “We’ll get it trimmed tomorrow,” I said, and got to work. I shooed her off once I was finished, then escorted them to their own guest room for the night.

  I had felt her approach, so I wasn’t surprised when I closed the door and found Satine standing on the other side, a smile on her face as she held up a bottle full of amber liquid and two glasses. “Share a drink with me?”

  I considered for a moment, before nodding. The woman led me a bit deeper in the home and we sat on the couch in what passed as the living room—large, floor to ceiling windows looking out onto a balcony, and the night time view of Sundari.

  Accepting the glass, I took a sip and hissed quietly at the burn as the blonde sent me an amused smile. “Careful. It may be a bit strong for you.”

  “Zeltron. It is physically impossible for you to out-drink me,” I pointed out. Not that it would ever matter. I never planned to test my tolerance for intoxicants.

  “Does everything have to be a challenge with you?” she asked, looking away as she took a sip.

  I shook my head. “It’s not.”

  “Ah. So it’s just with me, then? Aren’t I special,” Satine murmured.

  Frowning at the emotions I felt coming off of her, I asked, “Have I done something to upset you?”

  The blonde sent me an annoyed look. “You are annoyingly perceptive when you want to be.” I shrugged and she turned her gaze back out to the city. I sipped at my drink and let her think. After a few moments, she finally said, “She left.”

  I didn’t have to ask who she was talking about, but it did leave me wondering what she meant. “You said that already.”

  Slowly nodding, the woman said, “I suppose context would help. Obi-Wan came by herself.” Her lips curled up into a small smirk. “She was in a mood. Going through a bit of a rebellious phase.”

  I would like to say I was surprised, but no. I knew Obi well enough by now to know that it happened sometimes. “So she ditched Master Qui-Gon and came here.”

  “Oh yes,” Satine nodded. “For quite some time, actually. It was…” She sighed, shaking her head as a wistful feeling came over her. “It was wonderful. Honestly, genuinely wonderful.”

  “Not something I needed to know. I take it that’s when Master Qui-Gon came and took her back?”

  Satine shook her head. “No. That was only after.”

  “After?” I asked, not particularly curious, but social expectations and obligations were what they were. A friend would be expected to be interested, or at least be willing to listen. And she had made the offer to me earlier. Perhaps it would be better to consider this as paying it forward if I ever did decide to take her up on the offer.

  Satine’s next words were so quiet I almost didn’t hear them. “I offered her everything.” The word was full of meaning and an entire storm of emotion that forced me to mentally batten down the hatches. “And she ran away. That’s when Master Qui-Gon showed up. Like he was just waiting for her to make up her mind.”

  “He probably was. The Force is like that,” I confirmed. I hesitated, and part of me wanted to kick myself for asking, but I forced the words out. “What do you want me to do?”

  Satine snorted a quiet laugh, reaching up and rubbing at her eyes as she looked at me. “Nothing you aren’t already doing,” she shook her head, smiling despite her tears. “Tanya, this isn’t a problem you fix. Especially not the way you fix problems! I don’t want you to, heh, to track her down, beat her up, and drag her back—as amusing as that mental image is.”

  “Good, because I wasn’t offering,” I answered, my tone dry.

  Her laughter trailed off into a sigh. “I don’t like the rules of your order.”

  “Neither do I.”

  We sat in comfortable silence for a few more minutes, before I finished my drink. Satine knocked the rest of hers back and stood with a sigh. I accepted the offered hand up, only to find myself pulled into a hug. I stood still, frozen for just a moment in indecision, before she let out a quiet chuckle and released me.

  “Thank you for listening. You’re a good friend,” she murmured, before turning away. “Good night, Tanya.”

  “Good night,” I answered reflexively as she moved to the kitchen and left the bottle and glasses, before heading towards her room.

  Making my way back to my own room, I caught Allaya in the hall, coming back from the restroom. Spotting me, she went wide-eyed and sprinted back down the hall to her and Asajj’s room, closing and locking the door behind her.

  I wonder what that was about, I mused, slipping into my own room. As I turned off the light, I briefly caught sight of myself in the mirror beside the wardrobe in the corner of the room. For some reason, I was smiling.

  Ah. She must have thought I was going to scold her and engage in some night training. Understandable.

  I’ll have to do that later, when she’s not expecting it.