The Weaving Force: Chapter 91 (Patreon)

Chapter 91:

Nerhart Wren

Nerhart considered himself a simple man.

He liked simple jobs for simple pay. Doing simple things that were easy and uncomplicated.

For the last few years he’d been living the dream.

Fight on Ryloth, kill slavers, save Twi’lek slaves.

Simple. Uncomplicated. The pay was good and, as a bonus, anything they took off the slavers they could keep and sell for their own side profits later.

He understood on the surface why clan Wren was acting here, unofficially. He found it stupid. Everyone knew Mandalore had sent them here. Everyone knew the Duchess, and the Vizier, wanted to give the Hutts a headache. 

But they just pretended like they didn’t know.

Stupid.

But still, their stupidity was his gain. It let him and his clanmates get filthy frakking rich off the backs of Hutt morons.

And the Twi’lek girls were another great bonus. A very grateful bonus.

As such, he was understandably irritated when some frakking moron had to go and flip over the blue milk cart.

Really. Kidnapping Jabba’s kid?

As stupid as the Hutts were, being that stupid took the bloody cake.

The instant they got word of that, their orders were changed right quick.

Shut up, lay low, wait for new orders.

Of course they came from “The Boss” but everyone knew who that was, either the Duchess or the Vizier. 

So that’s what they did.

They shut up, ducked their heads and didn’t shoot anything for a solid week.

It was good advice, too.

Seeing as how a whole frakking fleet showed up overhead.

Not the clones. And not the droids, either.

Pirates.

Pirates, raiders, slavers, cut throats, murderers, bandits and every scumbag and lowlife in Hutt space brought together with the promise that whoever got back Jabba’s kid would be paid ten times their weight in credits. 

The very literal army of bastards fell on Ryloth like cannoks on a carcass, and the results were bloody obvious.

He’d be surprised if there was a single un-collared or un-raped Twi’lek left on the planet within a month. 

Clan Wren laid very, very low.

A few of the Twi’leks sought refuge with them.

Clan head said no to all of ‘em.

Too much heat.

Only exceptions were four lil’ ones.

Foundlings.

Their parents couldn’t protect ‘em. They knew that.

So they gave ‘em up. 

Nerhart wasn’t sure if that was the bravest thing he’d ever seen… or the saddest.

Still, they kept watch, and through the week they managed to discover the army of scumbags weren’t just a disorganized rabble. 

They had commanders.

Like people their bosses were answering to.

There was a hierarchy.

The Hutts, or Jabba at the very least, went and cobbled together an army.

A flimsy one. 

But an army.

That wasn’t something you could do over a few days. The Hutt had been busy before this.

Then, of course, something else happened.

Another fleet.

He and the rest of the boys stared up at the skies, hidden in the canyons and crags of the Ryloth deserts. 

“Those look like Pub ships.” Cannuk said.

“Yep.” He answered.

“Dropping dangerously close to the Hutt merc fleet.?”

“Yup.”

…

“Think they’re gonna blow each other up?”

He took a second to think about it.

“Nah.” He shrugged. “Got a feeling the Pub side boys actually know what they’re doin’ on this one.”

—

Meanwhile

“Sirs… the enemy fleet is hailing us.” The comms officer said, a note of hesitation in his voice. 

The hesitation was, perhaps, understandable when one looked at the bridge with the two ‘officers’ glaring daggers at each other, the button to accept the hail glowing between them.

Palpatine gestured towards the button. “This is your mess, you should accept responsibility.”

“So that if things turn bad you can say the Republic had nothing to do with any of it and expel Mandalore formally?” Alexandria shook her head. “Your schemes are transparent. You accept it.”

“Sirs…” The comm officer called again. “They’re hailing us on more frequencies…”

“So that you can sabotage the operation and try to get me thrown out of office with a vote of no confidence?” He scoffed. “You’re not half as clever as you think.”

“They’re beginning to charge weapons.” The comm officer did not whimper.

The two didn’t even look as though they heard him. 

Taylor:

I… have always loved Kashyyyk. 

Even when we first arrived, in the depths of my near delirium, the insects I was surrounded with were a comfort deep in the heart of the Shadowlands where all things fear to tread.

And then in the world above, with the Wookiees and the canopies of the Wroshyr branches, I felt… calm. It was so different from home. Earth Bet. The Bay. Somehow, this world that most would consider a death world in this galaxy, where the surface was all but uninhabitable to all but the fiercest creatures, it felt more peaceful than home ever was.

I don’t know if that said more about me or home, really. 

Still, that feeling, whether it was just… me deluding myself or if it was somehow real, it brought me comfort as we arrived, even knowing what lay ahead and its possible consequences.

The ship touched down on the landing platform the Wookiees had built for the Jedi Enclave. Five massive plates that could almost rival the hangar bays of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant.

Say what you want about Wookiees. They built big.

The vessel touched down, and all of us left as etiquette dictated. Master Yoda and the High Council members in front, myself and Master Halis right behind them and lastly, Anakin and our two Padawans behind us.

The ceremony would have been frivolous, if not for the people waiting for us as we arrived.

“Grand Master.” Master Judd, the head of the Kashyyyk enclave bowed low, his fellow Kashyyyk Council members and Masters doing the same.

I remembered Judd. The only Jedi that had been in the running for leadership of this place against Master Tapal.

I didn’t… begrudge him surviving Corellia. Of course I didn’t. 

But seeing him here did make me wonder how things might be different if Tapal stood in his place. If my friend was at the head of this particular enclave, rather than this… near stranger. 

“Master Judd.” Yoda himself bowed just as low, a differential sign of respect that I had no doubt Judd must’ve appreciated.

Judd may have been the overseer of this enclave, but Yoda was still Yoda. 

Both Mastersstood, though I noticed that Master Judd made sure to straighten a split second after Yoda himself.

The large blue alien looked to the rest of us. “Your rooms in the enclave have been prepared.” He nodded. “After you have rested from your journey and settled into your accommodations, I would request that the High Council meet with us to discuss what is to take place over the coming days.”

Translation: he wants to know if this communion might cause… complications.

It was a fair question, honestly. Judd had never been here during my previous visits. In fact, of the three Kashyyyk Council members present, I didn’t recognize any of them from my time here previously.

No doubt the war had something to do with the turnover rate. 

“Of course.” Master Yoda answered, nodding as he marched forward on his tiny legs.

Before he could get very far though, we were joined by another, very happy group of Wookiees.

I recognized chief Attichitcuk, the massive white furred chieftain roaring a delighted greeting, marching forward, flanked by several of his sons and other family members.

“Attichitcuk.” Yoda greeted, his voice equally delighted as he reached up. His tiny claw was comically small next to the literal bear paw that reached down to grasp it, the four foot nothing Jedi Grand Master looking like a muppet next to the towering, ten foot tall Attichitcuk. “Good to see you it is, my old friend.”

Attichitcuk huffed and rumbled, shaking Yoda’s hand, and in one fell swoop reached down to pick the little green man up, placing him on his shoulder. 

The act reminded me of Vicky, and judging by Yoda’s pleased smile, I could fathom that he and Attichitcuk were as close as Vicky was with him.

Or, maybe it’d be more accurate to say, Vicky was as close to him as Yoda was with Attichitcuk .

Wookiees lived for centuries. The oldest of them could reach upwards of four hundred years. Yoda must’ve known the chieftain far, far longer than nearly everyone else left in his life.

Some of the other Wookiees came forward, greeting Master Yaddle and Master Plo just as enthusiastically. One particular one came up to me, and I couldn’t help but smile as he did.

“Hi, Chewie.” I said.

I could always recognize Chewie by the almost smile on his face and, of course, his short stature. Short for a Wookiee, that is. 

He was still a full head and shoulders above me and most humans. 

He rumbled out his greeting, offering me a quick hug that I returned before he reached up and ruffled my hair like I was a child. 

I always gave him an annoyed face when he did.

And he always laughed.

This time it was no different.

I rolled my eyes before straightening my hair.

He chuffed, definitely smirking, amused and delighted with his own harmless mischievousness before I decided to make some introductions.

“Karla.” I called, and my Padawan stepped forward, staring wide eyed at Chewbacca.

Whether that was because Chewie had just treated me like a youngling or because he was a Wookiee, I couldn’t really say. 

“Karla-” I nodded. “-this is a friend of mine. Chewbacca. Chewie, this is Karla, my Padawan.”

“Nice to meet you.” The girl said, extending a hand to shake. 

Chewie, for his part, seemed delighted to meet her too, and in my rather limited understanding of Shyriiwook, I was pretty sure I caught the rather distinct mistranslation of daughter somewhere in his little rumbling babble before he reached down and plucked Karla off her feet, to place her on his shoulders.

Karla’s squeal of startled fright rather quickly turned into one of delight, grabbing hold of fistfuls of Chewbacca’s hair, her legs dangling forward. 

Angelica wriggled down, skittering across Karla’s body to crawl onto Chewbacca’s head and then his face, as if ready to examine this new thing to hug.

Then, in true form, she rather happily hugged Chewie’s face, Much to the Wookiees muffled confusion. 

I tried not to laugh, reaching up to pry the hug bug off him. 

Its little legs were latched rather firmly, but with a quick tug Angelica was off, crawling up my arm to settle on my shoulder, nuzzling against my cheek.

“Hey, Master,” I heard Ahsoka tease behind me. “Where’s my Wookiee friend? To put me on his shoulders?”

“I’ll be sure to find one just for you, Snips.” Anakin snarked back.

Ahsoka sighed with obvious melodrama. “Honestly, you invite me on a trip and don’t even have a Wookiee friend prepared in advance. The things I put up with.”

“Not all Masters can be as amazing as me, Ahsoka.” I decided to tease.

Anakin sniffed, crossing his arms and tossing his nose in the air. “See if I introduce you to any of my friends. Like say, upstanding politicians in the future.”

“Don’t resort to myths, Anakin.” I smirked, following as the other Masters and Wookiees began marching off the platforms.

“Yeah, I heard it when I said it.” He chuckled, and there was an undercurrent of something in his words. I could feel it in the Force, but couldn’t quite pin down what it might have been.

—

Later that night, seated in one of the grand Wookiee huts (there were simply too many of us to fit comfortably in the comparatively small Kashyyyk Council Chambers) on large pillows - or soft carpets - warmed by the fires that would have done a fine job of keeping the insects away if I wasn’t doing it myself, the meeting with the Kashyyyk Council convened in tense atmosphere.

The three Council members didn’t know what to expect. I’d had previous visits, previous communions on Kashyyyk, but I’d always tried to… limit the collateral as much as I could. And the Council had never had reason to suspect that the Queen Administrator might be hostile. Not like they did now, wondering if perhaps my partner had fallen to the dark side.

They were bracing themselves for a potential fight.

And if I was in their shoes, I’d be doing the same thing, honestly.

“What is the risk to the enclave itself?” Master Judd questioned. “While we do not have many Padawans here, we do have some. Recent recruits, just beginning to tap into the Force.” The Master said. “Should we consider sending them offworld?”

Obi-Wan was the one that answered him, his voice carrying a calm steadiness that was reassuring, even if I could tell it was with half-fake confidence that he said it. 

“The High Council has come specifically to both examine, and if need be help contain the entity known as the Queen Administrator.” He said. “While I will not pretend to speak for my fellow Councilors, I believe the Kashyyyk Enclave is under minimal risk given everything that we know.”

It wasn’t a lie, not exactly. But the answer was a prepared one.

If the Jedi Council could contain it, then Obi-Wan was right. The risk to the enclave was minimal.

If, for whatever reason, they couldn’t, then frankly everyone had much much bigger problems on their hands.

As such, they’d decided it was best not to prematurely add to that by inciting, if not panic, a definite sense of unease that would fuel the dark side and potentially weaken the Jedi themselves through that same doubt and disquiet.

Master Judd rubbed at his chin, reptilian features scrunching up in thought.

“Master Hebert.” One of the three Kashyyyk Councilors, a human man named Bei-Shu, called. “You have communed with this entity before; it is, in fact, part of you. Can you tell us what your honest assessment of it is?” He asked.

His demeanor was… open. Neutral. Either he was a good actor or, unlike the members of the Corruscant Council, he genuinely didn’t have an opinion of me one way or another. A rarity. Usually, even those who hadn’t met me had some impression, if only through rumor alone.

Suddenly, an idea occurred to me, and I began to think even as I formulated my response. 

“I haven’t communed with the Queen Administrator since the war began.” I answered. “Things might change in six months, but that having been said,” I took a moment, thinking as honestly as I could. Both for him, and for me. “The last time we spoke, there was one thing she wanted. In her words, understanding.”

“Of what?” Judd asked. 

“Me.” I said, then shrugged. “Or, more specifically, us. Organics. Mortals. Sapients.”

“Why?” The last of the Kashyyyk Councilors, a Chagrian named Thrull, demanded. 

“That I can’t say.” We hadn’t gotten that far in our conversation. Or, more specifically, she couldn’t communicate what exactly she wanted well enough yet. “I…” a moment’s hesitation, examining my own intuition. My own… feelings. “I don’t believe she’s hostile. But just because she’s not hostile doesn’t mean she isn’t potentially dangerous, even by accident.”

Master Judd nodded. “A fair point.” He turned his head towards his two colleagues. “Then I mo-”

“Forgive me for interrupting,” I cut in before they could continue. “But I have a suggestion.” 

That caught a few people off guard, not the least of which were the five Jedi High Council members.

I glanced at Yoda out of the corner of my eye, hoping the little green Grand Master would get the proverbial hint.

“I would suggest,” I began, before gesturing towards the man. “That Master Bei-Shu join the High Council members in their task..”

The man blinked, clearly taken aback. “Ahh, might I ask why?”

“You’ve had no contact with Queen Administrator.” I said. “Many on this Council have, even by proxy. A completely neutral opinion, and perspective, could be invaluable in the Council’s assessment.” 

I caught the briefest flicker of emotion in not only Yoda, but in Master Plo Koon, Gallia, Kenobi and Yaddle.

Sora Bulq had accused Yoda of rigging this examination in my favor.

Having even one completely neutral voice might very well void those protests.

If he found in my favor, that is.

Yoda rubbed at his chin, his tiny claws scratching at the hairs there.

“Hmmmm.” The old Grand Master considered, then nodded. “Agree I do, with Master Hebert. If willing you are, Master Bei-Shu, then most welcome you will be.”

The Kashyyyk Master looked momentarily stunned before he seemed to gather his composure.

He looked to his contemporaries, each of which offered a nod, and that seemed to be the last bit of encouragement he needed.

The Master bowed respectfully, his hands folded into the billowing sleeves of his robe. “It would be my honor, Grand Master Yoda.” 

It was a gamble. He might very easily be scared of Queen Administrator, much like Adi Gallia had been during her first brush with my partner, and might decide against me just off of that.

But, if he wasn’t there, that would just give fuel to Bulq’s accusations. He and others like him, Tiin, Mundi and Piell, would never shut the hell up, and after a while that might cause even more problems. 

I’d learned long ago not to just meekly sit and wait for the other shoe to drop.

That kind of allowance wasn’t peace… It was a lie.

—

The skies were still gray when we approached the grand platform that had served as my communion space.

It was still as I remembered; the Wroshyr wood could withstand the test of time. In a hundred years, even if no one maintained it, it would still be standing.

And the Wookiees weren’t poor custodians. 

The supplies were fresh, the shadings and banners recently swapped out, snapping in the breeze with the orange and green colors of the city of Rwookrrorro. 

Our shuttle touched down and all of the Jedi Masters, plus Anakin, stepped out, a nervous charge thrumming through the air.

I took a deep breath, and tried not to shudder. “How are we doing this?” I asked. I didn’t care who answered.

It was Yaddle who spoke. “In the center, you must be.” She said, “Meditate, you will. Commune, you must, as you have before… follow your path in the Force, the Council will.”

I still didn’t know how they would. Or really, what she even meant. But if my job was just to commune… I could do that. 

I’d done it before.

It’s why this place was built.

So why was I so nervous now?

I felt my hands trembling, my whole body standing stiff.

Why?

Why did this feel different?

A hand reached up, placing itself on my shoulder.

I turned. Master Plo was there.

“Don’t worry.” He said, soft flows of warmth and reassurance passing through his touch and into me. 

“We’re here.” Is what he said.

‘I’m here’ Is what he meant.

I stared at him, this man who was my teacher.

And I nodded.