The Weaving Force: Chapter 12 (Patreon)

Chapter 12:

Dennis

The Spaceship, and it was a Spaceship- he’d pressed his face to the tiny, porthole-like viewport long enough to definitely confirm - looked like the interior of a passenger ferry.

It had long multi-seat benches; they lined the walls and filled the interior cabin like aisles. A menagerie of various species, not the least of which were quite a few humans, filled every corner of the small vessel.

It was… banal. Almost boring if he were being honest. And that in and of itself was a marvel.

How advanced did technology have to be for things to be… like this.

People just walked in. No space suits, no fancy equipment. They sat down like they were taking the bus, or a commercial flight back home.

What did their really advanced tech look like? What could they do if they pushed themselves? A high enough tech level to kill Endbringers… or worse?

Maybe.

But hell, Just a handful of these ships could probably give the earth the tech it needed to let people escape the Endbringers. Leave them on a barren rock like Sphere intended before he went crazy.

It was… an odd feeling that came with the realization. A bitterness that these people were just… here away from everything that happened, all the destruction, all the deaths and the creeping dread that came with knowing they were all going to die to a monster.

But intermingled with it was a wild, desperate sort of hope- like a drowning man seeing an island in the distance.

…

He had to get back home.

Dennis closed his eyes, turning his attention away from the inner cabin of the transport back towards Rugess, Militia and… Alexandria.

The Bith was using his damaged, padded hands to scroll through some sort of learning app on a pad, holding it out for the three of them to look.

An image appeared, a soft feminine voice drifting outward.

“Speeder”

And splashed at the bottom of the screen, the letters in Galactic basic writing spelling the word itself in phonetic sync with the recording. .

Then Ruggess said what Dennis could only assume was how his species said Speeder, in slow enunciated vocabulary.

They must have looked utterly ridiculous, two grown women plus teen using what must have been the equivalent of a Blues-Clues children learning app to “pass the time”.

Dennis did try to pay attention, really he did, but he really wasn’t cut out for learning like this. Hell, he doubted anyone was. But Militia had drive and Alexandria… well…

The Triumvirate member sat still as a statue, one leg crossed over the other, one hand cupping her chin, finger obscuring her mouth. It was anyone’s guess where her eyes were, but he doubted they were solely focussed on Rugess.

He wouldn’t be surprised if they were watching him truth be told. He certainly hadn’t done himself any favors with her with his comments.

After a moment, Miss Militia groaned, leaning back in her seat to strengthen her spine. “The grammatical structure seems fairly similar.” She hedged, looking to Alexandria for confirmation.

“It is.” the woman confirmed. “Rugess’dialect is altogether different more akin to japanese structure than anything else.

That startled the Bith , who spat out a rapid fire- something - in reply.

“Partially.” Alexandria said. “A few more days. A week at most. I should be able to understand you as well as Skywalker could.”

Rugess shook his head, babbling out something else.

“I listened.”

Dennis decided to raise his hand. “Ahem. Yeah. While following this one sided conversation is really fun and all. What’s our plans once we reach Mandalore? Just… find a library card to do internet research?”

“In effect- yes”

He stared.

She couldn’t be serious.

Whatever she saw on his face must have drawn her attention because after a moment, she turned her head to look at him directly, making sure he knew exactly where her eyes were this time.

“Our first order of business is finding room and board, after that, an adequate credit source and thirdly a source of information. Hopefully priorities two and three can be packaged together but if not we need, more than anything else, information. Galactic technology, policy, dangers, customs, anything and everything. Tattoine was a desert in more ways than one. The Hutts control the flow of information, a standard practice for a society run on slaves. Hopefully, Mandalore will be more… accessible.”

“And if its not?” He asked, and if there was a bit of challenge in his voice… he couldn’t help it.

“I know things are uncertain Dennis.” Militia cut in, apparently misinterpreting his tone. “But we’re all running a little blind here. We can only play things by ear until we find a way home.”

But Alexandria stared at him, her smooth, featureless helmet obscuring too much for him or anyone to read her.

“Hannah. Rugess. Perhaps you might go get a drink of water for a moment.” She finally said. “The dispenser is on the other end of the cabin if I’m reading that sign correctly.”

Dennis tensed,

Militia’s eyes darted from him towards Alexandria beside her. “Ale-”

“It’ll be fine, Hannah.” She cut her off. “You can trust me.”

Miss Militia looked unsure, and Dennis almost wanted to tell her not to go, but figured that inside this tiny ship, surrounded by people, Militia herself not being too far away and at least the potential threat of what lay outside the ship… he couldn’t really ask for a ‘better’ place than right here and now.

…

Did she want him to think that?

With his silence, the tension grew, and soon Militia stood, looking to him as if she was asking him to say something so she could help, Rugess, unsure and subdued, meekly undid his seat belt and followed her out of their little cubicle of booths towards the water dispenser.

Dennis could hear the voices of the other travelers, the humm of the air conditioning system and what he assumed was the engine.

The metal bench he was sitting on felt cold against and it was a struggle not to fidget in place as the silence stretched on.

Alexandria was still as stone.

After a moment, he steeled himself, finding his nerve again.

Even if it wasn’t real… it felt real enough hadn’t it…

So he’d faced worse- far worse than Alexandria.

He turned to look her dead in the eye.

“Interesting.”

The word made him twitch. “What?”

“You.” She answered. “The change is equal parts subtle and drastic. One part, scared and unsure, the other… well. The other is someone who can confidently call me a killer to my face.”

He didn’t wince or cringe. Instead, he forced a smile.

“Was I wrong?” It was confidence he didn’t have that drove his tongue. False bravado and, perhaps sheer spite that made him say that.

Alexandria stayed quiet, staring him down, and he got the feeling she could see right through him.

“I asked you before to tell me what you think you know-” She began. “But you’re not even sure yourself…” Her head tilted, ever so subtly. “Certain things aren’t lining up. And if one thing isn’t true. Why would the others be true.” She mused.

Dennis stayed quiet- for all the good it would do.

“You don’t trust me.” She began. “You believe you shouldn’t trust me but you’re not sure… Hmmm. Needling then. Trying to test me, push my buttons. Seeing where I fall on your personal scale.”

He didn’t want to admit she was right.

So he didn’t.

“Telling me that isn’t something you’d do.” He forced another smile. “You’d keep it a secret that you know. Play the good role. Make me let my guard down. That’s your MO right?” He pressed, regretting the last part even as he said it. Then he pushed on. “Or maybe you just want to 4-D chess this knowing I’d give you that answer so you are playing me with reverse psychology… Or maybe I’m just overthinking things.” He shrugged. “Who can say?”

“You want to talk.” She answered, ignoring his spiel. “But you neither trust me to talk with, and you don’t seem to think Militia can help you- and yet you do trust her… hmmm.” One hand rose, rubbing at her chin.

He leaned forward in his seat, rubbing his hands together in a fidgeting movement. “Honestly, you and me-” He gestured between them. “We can keep going in circles til they come back from the water break, go for a bathroom break, land and take our next trip to the next library planet.

“I am being very direct-” She countered “-as you noted earlier.”

“Right.” He nodded. “Good talk.”

He moved to stand, ready to leave, the cubicle until they reached Mandalore, her hand caught him in the chest.

Not hard, mind you, it just halted his standing motion so he fell back into his seat. Still didn’t stop him from feeling he just jabbed his sternum into a concrete slab.

“Whatever is inside your head could be important to actually getting back home.” She insisted.

Dennis rubbed at his chest; wincing. Wondering if there would be a bruise there tomorrow.

Regardless, he laughed.

“Doubt that. I’m still half convinced none of this shit is real.”

“It is real. Why do you think otherwise?”

He looked at her, the words at the tip of his tongue before he caught them between his teeth.

Because you’re still breathing… and so am I.

She must have seen some form of answer on his face. Because when the moment her body went still this time, there was no mistaking the cold dread that must have crawled down her spine.

(X)(X)(X)

Satine Kryze

“It’s quite impressive.”

Satine wasn’t one to gush, or offer false praise, so when she said this, the light of pride in Korkie’s eyes shone all the brighter, and she could see her young nephew was genuinely trying to keep his composure and not beam with joy and happiness that would be… unbecoming of one of his station.

With a click of the remote in his hands, the holo-presentation turned off.

“The young Master has been working on this project for weeks now-” Old Doval, Korkie’s tutor said, with no small measure of pride in his own voice and tone. “He’d hoped that the subject would please you.”

“It most certainly does- I believe he’s even taught me some things I didn’t know about our history.”

And that was the crux of it wasn’t it? History. Their people had a long, storied past. One of the oldest and blood drenched in the whole of the Galaxy.

She couldn’t erase History, nor should she try. All they could do was acknowledge it and move forward, forswearing the methods of the past for those of the future. New Mandalore had to be better.

“The Idea of focusing on the figures that unified clans after the various civil wars of Mandalore was an inspired choice.” She conceded.

Her nephew had done extensive research for this project, going far far back into their past. Both verifiable history and even Legends.

Mandalore the Preserver, Mandalore the Vindicated, Mandalore the Endurer, Mandalore the Binder, Mandalore the Unifier. On and on they went.

None of them were pacifists. None of them were responsible for anything less than thousands of deaths in their own rights, but the general through line of the presentation was that each had accomplished more in peace than they had in war.

That their names survived through the ages because of how they’d led their people away from senseless self destructive conflict. Or even picked them back up from the brink of extinction when previous Mandalores had led them to ruin.

It was a way to show even the conservative members of the Mandalorians that New Mandalore had its seeds sown throughout their blood drenched history.

They were not an aberration… rather they were the ultimate promise of what only a culture like theirs could be. Warriors that had learned that peace was greater than any short lived ‘glory’ to be found in killing other beings.

Korkie smiled, up towards her, and she smiled back.

Ï will be presenting it before the academy in a weeks time. It’s an open conference Auntie Satine.”

The smile on her face froze.

“You will come see it won’t you?”

She knew the question was coming, and it was like a knife through the heart- knowing she would have to disappoint him.

There were times, many times that Duchess Satine Kryze wished she privately could escape her duty. Just for a little while. Just a single day of peace and quiet that she could have for herself.

But always there was a crisis on her hands, always there was some problem that needed dealing with.

Her father had made it look so easy, so natural. She wondered how he did it. How he always seemed so steady and steadfast and yet she could barely keep herself from drowning.

To take a day, even a single day to go to the academy-

“I-”

He knew her answer already, she could see the disappointment already beginning to bloom behind his eyes. Bracing himself and yet willing to accept it with all the grace a teenage boy shouldn’t have at his age.

He was always too good for her.

The rejection died on her lips and she reached behind her for the datapad holding her schedule; hoping there was something she could rearrange. Something she could move around and fix so that she could avoid disappointing him… again.

Even if he never said it- she knew it was so. And she owed the boy better than that.

As her eyes reamed over the datapad her heart clenched. Meetings, functions, events. Dates that she had little control over. Promised appointments scheduled months in advance… how-

An idea struck her then. And she looked towards Korkie, the tentative hope in his eyes, making her all the more determined.

“Let me make a call.” She smiled. “If all goes well… then I will surely make time.”

The boy smiled, beaming even more than he had been when she praised his work. The mere promise of her presence lighting up his face like the sun.

She would call. Tal Merrik could arrive planetside in an afternoon. She could meet him in the spaceport and discuss everything that would be needed for the scheduled date.

He could handle things, she was sure.

She’d call immediately, and meet him at the Spaceport when he arrived.

(X)(X)(X)

For those of you a bit more familiar with Star Wars lore; you can probably guess what might go down at the Spaceport :p