The Weaving Force: Chapter 103 (Patreon)

Chapter 103:

Dennis:

When the ship ramp opened, he felt the genuine, heartfelt smile tug at his lips, seeing Miss M there, waiting for him.

It was… it was nice… 

“Hey Miss M.” He said as the whining of the engines began to die down, stepping off the ramp only to be enveloped in a hug.

He hugged her back, enjoying the welcome for however long or short it was before she pulled away, looking him over with a concerned eye.

“It’s ok.” He reassured, smiling toothily even as he tried to make his voice sincere. “We’re all ok, we all came back.”

Hannah took a deep breath through her nose, the look in her eyes remaining completely serious. 

“I sent you on that mission and four people died! You could’ve been one of them!” She shot back. “So I’ll ‘worry’ as much as I damn well please!”

Dennis winced, feeling the sliver of guilt coiling through his chest. He could only imagine how she and Satine received the news that four of the royal guard were dead. Aras was a royal guard himself, and it was a very clear, stark reminder that her husband was now a part of the army and that just because Vicky was his CO didn’t guarantee his safety.

“Sorry.” He said, a bit less glib, a bit more real this time in a way she could see. 

She looked at him for a second longer, then sighed and nodded, turning her eyes up to the ship. “Ventress and Rugess?”

“You know Ruug” He nodded. “He likes to double check everything before he leaves… and Ventress...” He trailed off, looking behind him for a second before he leaned closer to whisper his words.

Hannah caught on, tilting her head to offer her ear. . 

“She had a bit of a close call.” He said. “Think it shook her more than she’ll admit.” 

Normally he respected secrets but… 

“I’m not sure how to help…” He chewed on his next words. “Back on earth… did you ever… you know- have a friend in a similar boat?”

Hannah remained still for a second, thinking; then she nodded. “I’ll talk to her. Don’t worry-” She pre-empted his protest. “I heard it from the royal guard and Master Fay’s Jedi report. Not you.” She promised.

Dennis smiled. “You’re the best.”

Hannah finally found it in herself to smile back. “You dropped Vicky off on Corruscant… you… well-”

Ahh.

“I’m happy to say, yes; I did check on your big ol love muffin Miss M. Hubby is doing just fine. Even making friends with all the other kids!” She rolled her eyes at his tone but he could see how relieved she was. “Hell, he was pleased as a pickle that we brought him a present… well… Vicky did.”

Hannah raised an eyebrow. “Should I be worried?”

Dennis shrugged. “If he can find a way to lift it- its everyone else who’s gonna have a fucking problem.”

The Hero turned Mando now looked incredulous. “If he can lift- Are we talking about my husband?” She asked, as if to say ‘Of course he can lift it.’

And while her confidence wouldn’t have been misplaced at any other circumstance; unless Aras was hiding about half a ton of power armored suit somewhere, he highly doubted the man would manage. 

Aras:

“Is this what it’s like on life days ser?” One of the men asked. That one had yet to earn his name. But he was competent enough. One of the nineteen he’d flagged as worthy of the Beskar Dallon had brought them as spoils of her victory

It fit the boy well enough.

His fellows cheered, laughing. Pleased and proud beyond measure to be wearing true Mandalorian steel.

Firsts among equals as far as their fellow clones were concerned. 

Aras let them have their joy; their moment of elation. Battles would come soon enough to rob them of it.

The most senior of them, one who’d earned the name, Slipstream, for his skill in following Dallon in the skies as her shadow during the battle of Illum; looked towards Aras. “What about you ser? What are you going to do with your life day present from the General?”

Aras answered with a voice that was as dry as the wastes of Mandalore. It was a stupid question.

“I will wield it.” He said.

The boy looked incredulous. 

“No offense sir, but I think even the Commander might have a tough time using it. If only for how unwieldy and big it is.”

“Maybe he’ll mount it on a speeder.” One of the others shrugged. 

Aras did not sigh, or roll his eyes, reminding himself they only had a short ten years of life.

“If it is too big to wield-” He said. “-what’s the natural solution?” He asked; half rhetorically as he made his way over towards the box the clones had been too busy examining their own gifts to notice.

They hesitated, no doubt wary of looking foolish. 

“Ummm… Make it smalle-”

He reached down, snapping open the locks on the crate.

It fell open, revealing that what had once been the massive head of the Beskar forged Glaive- Now reshaped as  a monstrously large, curved greatsword.

Too large for most men to wield.

But he was not ‘Most men’

“Correct.” he said, reaching for the newly forged handle; fighting down his own smile as he appreciated Dallon’s very welcome ‘gift’ 

He always did enjoy Life Day.

—

Pors Tonith:

Life as a prisoner was a dull affair.

He was woken up, and fed every morning. Allowed some recreational and exercise time in a cordoned off section of the ship. Overseen every day by clone officers. His room was checked frequently for everything that could be used to do… much of anything. Be it harm his wardens or, more likely himself.

He’d heard the Jedi did not harm or torture prisoners; but perhaps that’d been a bit of propaganda on their end. 

Strictly speaking, merely leaving a prisoner in his cell was not ‘torture’. He was not in absolute solitary confinement; though it perhaps felt like it at times. 

Nor was serving them ship available rations a method of torture recognized on most worlds.

But after several… days? Weeks? It felt like weeks at least” of this mind numbing, unbroken, unchanging routine… Pors could see an argument could be made for such. 

Dataslates were not allowed, too much risk of him using one for any number of things. Holonet activity was similarly not permitted. 

That part didn’t surprise him really. They would not wish him to access information regarding the war or somehow perhaps send a communique 

But it did make for mindnumbingly boring days. 

“Assuming y equals 500 times the result of x squared minus x itself. To invert the equation I'd need to divide both sides by 500, before completing the square by adding 0.25 on both sides. Afterwards I'll apply the binomial formula on the x side to transform it into the square of x minus 0.5. Finally I extract the root and add 0.5 on both sides, arriving at the inverted equation of x equals 0.5 added to the square root of y divided by 500 plus 0.25”

As such. Math had become his passtime.

Sometimes difficult. Sometimes easy. But they broke the tedium. 

And kept his skills sharp. Necessary skills considering who had captured him, and what he was likely to contend with soon enough.

Still, this day he did not get any indication that things would change…

So he was somewhat surprised, pleasantly so mind you– when they did.

— 

The Clones led him through the ship. His hands were in cuffs, two stood behind him, two infront. More than an arms length distance, even for his considerably longer arms.

He would say it was a tad paranoid. Even if he were to… somehow overpower the comparably stronger human species soldiers in straight hand to hand combat… there were very slim odds of actually making it anywhere remotely close to an escape on this ship. Not to mention that he had no idea where in space they currently were. It could be in the middle of the Republic Fleet’s largest staging grounds. 

Even so, paranoid or not, the Clones did lead him to his destination. A small conference room, it seemed. 

There was a bare metal table, roughly octagonal in shape, a holo plinth in its center. 

And someone waiting for him.

General Kenobi sat on one of the available seats, one leg crossed over the other, hands with fingers interlaced over his stomach. 

“Ahh.” The Negotiator smiled. “General Pors, a pleasure to see you again.”

“General Kenobi.” The Munn smiled even as he began the prepared… countermeasures…

Let the biquadrate of the product of x and 4 be equal to the square of y. Also let the biquadrate of x be equal to the square root of the product of y and 256-

“Please.” Obi-Wan gestured. “Have a seat.”

Pors bowed ever so slightly in ‘gratitude’ and stepped forward, his long legs swallowing the distance before he took the offered seat that was much too small for his long limbed and tall species. 

Obi-Wan slid a cup of what looked like tea. Still steaming with heat.

Pors took it, eying the drink warilly.

“I assure you it’s not poisoned. “ The man’s voice was droll, but pleasant sounding enough. Pors looked to the General famously known throughout the Galaxy as “The Negotiator" and raised a brow ridge.

“Considering that I am your Prisoner General Kenobi, poisoning my tea would be a rather needlessly complicated way of delivering my execution.” He noted drily.

The man smiled a hint of teeth showing past the lips and beard. “Well, you have been staring at it for quite a long time.” he answered. “A man might begin to think there’s no trust between us Generals at all.”

‘In the first equation, taking square roots on both sides, the square of the product of x with 4 would be equal to y.’

Pors allowed himself a smile. 

“It’s not your potential execution method that concerns me general” Pors laughed, taking hold of the cheap styrofoam cup placed on the table between them. “Rather your… ability to provide something that can be qualified as tea at all.”

“You wound me Master Tonith.” The Negotiator sighed, as Pors took the first sip of the provided tea. 

Sapir. A classic. But barely more than tepid water with the way it was made here.

The Jedi General leaned back in his seat, allowing Pors the moment to drink and place the cup back on the metal table. “I suppose you know why I’m here?” He said, breaking the silence.

Pors nodded. “That’s academic.” The Munn answered drily. “Though I will say; it was in poor form leaving me in a cell for so long before initiating this conversation. I didn’t think Jedi were as… crass as all that.”

‘Or in other words, y would be equal to 16 times the square of x.’

“Truthfully an emergency required the attention of many Jedi Masters.” Kenobi answered. “Myself included.”

That piqued Pors curiosity.. “Oh?” None of his subordinates or colleagues had anything that could have altered the predicted course of events so much as to necessitate the attention of “many Jedi Masters”

At least not that he knew of. 

Putting this value of y in the second equation, we have the biquadrate of x being equal to the square root of the product between 16, 256 and the square of x.

“Nothing related to the War; that’s proceeding well within expected parameters. 

That made him smile. “Which is to say; you’re losing. And that leads you inexorably… to me.”

The Jedi did not deny it; sighing instead. “I’m more than aware that someone of your intellect, has… run the numbers-” Pors let his smirk grow just a bit. “And I’m sure someone of your intellect realizes that, long term; this will only end one way if you don’t cooperate.”

Pointedly, Pors took another sip of his tea. “Threats already General Kenobi?”

Obi-Wan shrugged. “Frankly I have neither the time nor the patience to try and dance around with what we both know is happening here. I’ve been sent as the velvet glove. There is a very large, very heavy iron fist beneath it that few would probably wish to get acquainted with and even fewer aren’t willing to hit you with as hard as they feasibly can. ”

“I believe you Jedi are quite famous in not harming your prisoners.” Pors noted easily. 

Hence the biquadrate of x would be equal to the product of x with the square root of 4096. By dividing both sides with x, the cube of x would be equal to the square root of 4096.

“Jedi yes.” Kenobi nodded easily. “The Republic behind us… less so. 

“The corrupt sack of bloated political creatures and idealistic fools.” Pors laughed at the absurdity. “That is your threat Kenobi? I expected better from you, honestly.”

The Negotiator’s own smile didn’t so much as twitch on his face, looking at Poors with a man carrying utter confidence. 

‘Hence the biquadrate of x would be equal to the product of x with the square root of 4096. By dividing both sides with x, the cube of x would be equal to the square root of 4096

“As I said” Obi-Wan continued. “I’m simply here as the velvet glove. The ‘kind’ offer. The one made before anything unpleasant needs to happen.

Therefore, the cube of x is equal to 64. In other words, the value of x must be 4. If that is the case, then from the third equation the value of y must be 16 times the square of 4. Hence the value of y is 16 times 16 or 256-

“-Hence x is 4 and y is 256.” The human said suddenly.

Pors could feel his body go utterly still stiffening in something that was not quite dread yet not far removed from it either

He stared at the unassuming General. 

Kenobi stared back the glint in his eyes, not smug… predatory.

“So… it is true…” Pors nodded. “Jedi can read thoughts.”

Obi-Wan’s smile grew just a bit, almost mocking in its veneer. “You were being rudely loud with them” He commented glibly.

“That is the general idea.” Pors answered. It was an old trick written of in the histories of the ancient conflicts.

Jedi could read minds. 

Thus, fill your mind with ‘useless’ thoughts.

Math was always useful, but the point stood. 

The Jedi General reached for the small folder that had been resting beside his hand. 

Opening it, Pors saw several pictures of Star charts.

Kenobi took a moment as his hand passed over the images, hesitating before he grabbed the first. 

“If I walk out this door; its likely the last time we’ll ever speak before the less pleasant means of discovering the necessary information replace me at this table. So. I will simply show you some simple, galactic map coordinates. You need not say a word. Merely look at the pictures.”

Pors did not speak.

Kenobi pulled up the first image; up looking Pors in the eye as he did. “Also- no. It isn’t quite considered torture if I need to order my men to force your eyes open. So lets avoid that… petty unpleasantness.”

—

Taylor:

When the door to the security room opened after a handful of minutes, I wasn’t surprised to find that Obi-Wan was staring at me with a look that was perhaps ‘demanding’ in a way. It was a look he often gave to Anakin.

It said ‘Alright; I’ve followed through with your bad idea so there’d better be a payoff now’

Following said look, came his voice. “I will remind you again that if this idea of yours doesn’t work you’ve deprived us of a significant advantage. Even if we bring in Karla now- the initial surprise or concern she might read to more accurately determine what worlds are vital to the Separatists might not be there with him having advance warning.

“I’m aware.” I nodded quietly, thanking the Clone who finished uploading the security footage from the various hidden cameras and handing me the data stick. “But it won’t be a problem.”

“I trust that you have a plan;” Obi-Wan nodded. “But I’d still like to know some details now.”

I shrugged.

“Fair enough.” I said, pulling out my communicator and sifting through the very few contacts I had on it for a number I wouldn’t usually call. 

It rang three times.

It usually did. I’m sure she hesitated as much as I did.

“Hebert.” I heard after a moment. 

“Alexandria.” I nodded.

“If you need something; I’ll be on Coruscant again in about three hours.” She finally said.

“I wasn’t aware you’d gone back to Mandalore.” I noted, almost thinking aloud. Three hours was inconvenient but hardly a big deal. 

“I’d be surprised if you heard that; yes.”

Secretive about something… something I needed to worry about? Some scheme of hers? 

I narrowed my eyes, thoughts churning as I tried to figure what she could be hiding with one thought process even as the other reminded me playing nice and asking her was preferable to exploiting Karla for her power before she even knew what it really was. 

“Now what did you need?” The woman asked, seemingly as suspicious as I was.

That was fine too… I doubted we’d ever like each other.

Using each other though. That had always been on the table. 

“Something that might give us a leg up in the war… if you can get an accurate read.”

I heard her snort; I’m sure the bait was obvious.

“My office; seven thirty standard.”

She hung up.

Good enough.

(X)(X)(X)

Inching our way closer to things. I estimate we have about one "filler" ish chapter left before the next major battleground is fully revealed and we start kicking the last arc, before my big break, into high gear.

We're going to see... escalation.

An unfathomable level of escalation :3