The Weaving Force: Chapter 51 (Patreon)

Chapter 51:

Taylor

“Hey.”

I turned at the call, the voice urging a small smile onto my face as Vicky walked in, two cups of hot chocolate in hand.

“Hey,” I answered back, putting down my dataslate as I took the offered mug with a touch of gratitude across her mind as our fingers brushed across each other.

She smiled that quiet, pleased little smile that seemed to be reserved for when we were alone.

I still didn’t know what was so special about me that it seemed I was the only one with the privilege to see it.

“Working on the list of kids to take to the Conclave?” she asked, sipping from her mug.

I nodded, turning my eyes back to the dataslate. “It’s… tough-” I answered slowly. “-choosing.” I shrugged. “It feels like I’m… picking favorites.” My mouth twisted, displeased at the notion. “Singling out kids like these are the ones they need to pay attention to, when they all have their strengths.”

“I know,” she answered soothingly. “But… they’re asking you to do this because they want to give your ideas a chance to succeed. This is huge!”

“There is that, yes,” I conceded, leaning back in my seat. “It’s just… I still feel like I’m betraying them, ya know? The ones I don’t pick, like I’m leaving them behind in a way,” I said, still eying the dataslate.

Vicky walked up behind me, one hand falling onto my shoulder with a gentle squeeze.

“I get it, but you’re not leaving them behind. You’d go up to bat for any one of those kids.”

“Somehow, I’m not sure they know that…” I said.

I sensed her curiosity, tinged with concern. I sighed. “Iskt got into a bad fight today.”

That startled her. “Shit, really? Why?”

“You’re probably gonna get a more detailed version in a few minutes,” I said with a shrug. “But long and short of it: Taleen from Beq’s creche got into a spat with Karla, called her a ‘worm head that should go back to the slave market’.” Vicky sucked in a sharp breath, partly horrified, partly angry. “Gorcho, his friend, egged him on a bit and laughed. Karla ran away and Iskt, well, he was furious. Damn near gave Gorcho a concussion and looked like he was ready to bite Taleen’s face off before we intervened.”

“Jesus Christ,” Vicky hissed. “I haven’t even seen Iskt annoyed,” she said. “He’s one of the most patient kids in your gaggle.”

I paused, raising an eyebrow before tilting my head back to look at her. “A ‘gaggle’?” I asked.

She smiled again with a hapless shrug. “Yes,” she chirped. “You’ve got a gaggle of kids! That’s their official title!”

I shook my head. I’d learned long ago to pick my battles.

“He lost his temper,” I said, returning to the subject at hand. “And what Taleen said… I get it. I know it was a heat of the moment thing. He wasn’t thinking, he just reacted. But I can’t help but think I screwed up somewhere. Something that told him he had to handle it rather than just come to me.”

“Tay-”

“It’s stupid,” I said. “I know that. I know it has nothing to do with me, but it still feels that way.”

“Winslow?” Vicky guessed. Deduced, really.

I hated to admit that it was Winslow. Still, even now, hanging over my neck like a lead weight. The thought that Iskt – or any of my kids – could ever feel like they couldn’t come to me, their teacher, to deal with a bully, felt like a personal failure, even if I intellectually knew that wasn’t what happened.

I breathed, my shoulders sagging, and she had her answer.

She leaned down, placing her mug with its cooling hot chocolate on the desk before offering me a hug.

“You’re not that kind of teacher,” she said reassuringly. “And this-” she continued, pointing to the dataslate, “-isn’t leaving any of your kids behind.” I felt her nod, my hair brushing her cheek. “It’s making sure that what you’re doing to help all of them can keep helping. That’s important.”

“I’ll get over this,” I swore. “I know, intellectually, that my own hang ups are acting up. I know that,” I said. “Thanks for trying. It’s just... today hit a lot of sore spots,” I admitted with a sigh, one hand rising to brush across her hair, curling stray locks behind her ear.

She offered another squeeze, and as much as I enjoyed the hug, it had to end sooner than I’d have liked.

“Your ‘better explanation’ is about to knock.”

She blinked. “Huh?”

Then, right on time, there was a knock on the door.

I saw her perk up, a bit of surprise on her face before her brain finally clicked, and her expression shifted into a dry look at my semi-smug smile.

Local omniscience had its perks.

Defiantly, she leaned in to give me a peck on the cheek in a way I knew left the mark of her lipstick behind, forcing me to wipe it away as she began marching towards the door. “Coming!” she called, her impish, too-pleased-with-herself -smile firmly in place.

With a press of the access panel the door hissed open, revealing Karla, who was already bowing at the waist.

“H-hello, Miss Vicky. I’m sorry for bothering you, but I really need to speak to miss Taylor,” I heard with my own ears.

Taking an extra second to wipe at my cheek to make certain the last of the lipstick was gone, I called, “In here, Karla.”

The little Lethan Twi’lek barely waited for Vicky to step out of the way before she was rushing into the room.

Unlike Iskt, Karla had stayed on the small side, even for a Twi’lek – a species that generally leaned towards the svelte side of the equation next to humans.

Before I could do more than take a breath, Karla was already bowing at the waist again, and the emotion she’d been suppressing came spilling out in her voice; she was nearly in tears.

“Please, don’t send Iskt away! What happened was all my fault! Please, don’t make him leave the Temple!”

My eyes widened a bit; I’d seen the girl just a few hours ago, spoken with her about what had happened. Where had this idea come from between then and now?

At a guess, rumors from the other kids or Padawans. Jedi loved their gossip.

Bunch of old maids.

Vicky rallied before I did, her hands falling onto Karla’s comparatively tiny shoulders. “Woah, woah, easy, Sweetie. No one’s getting sent away.”

Karla straightened, craning her head to look up towards Vicky. “But he got angry. He hit Gorcho! Jedi aren’t supposed to give into anger!”

“Well,” Vicky smiled, “is he a Jedi yet?”

“N-No?”

“Then he’s fine!” the blonde chirped, before looking at me. “Right?”

I nodded. “Iskt... has to face consequences for hitting a fellow crecheling, but banishing him from the Temple isn’t one of those consequences, Karla.”

“But it’s my fault! Don’t punish him because of me!”

“Hey, Sweetie, come on,” Vicky said encouragingly, still rubbing the girl’s shoulders. “You didn’t make Taleen say what he said, and what he said was way out of line. So stop saying this is your fault.”

But I saw Karla’s face twitch, uncomfortable and guilty, her weight shifting from foot to foot as she looked down.

I raised an eyebrow. “Karla…” I began slowly, “...there’s something you want to say.”

“I…” She hesitated. “I, ummm...”

I stood up from my chair, and the little girl clammed up even faster before I reached out, my hand falling over her head before leading her towards the nearby couch.

We sat down, close enough that my knee almost brushed against hers.

“You can talk to me,” I said reassuringly, the same reassurance I’d hoped all my kids knew by default before today.

Her eyes were fixed on the floor, feet almost dangling over the edge of our couch.

I waited in silence, letting her gather her nerve for whatever she wanted to say.

Then, finally:

“I… well… we know that you’re always watching, Miss Taylor. But we know you can’t watch things while you’re sleeping.”

It was true. The kids did know that. No one liked to be spied on at all times, not even kids. They had put their minds to figuring out ways around my local omniscience years ago. Those approaching their teens, especially, mastered the art. Those methodologies would always percolate through the ranks.

First on their list, of course, was, “Miss Taylor can’t watch you while she’s sleeping.” It let me catch some of them off guard when I burned the midnight oil. Others waited for when I was offworld, and some had gotten creative to try and figure out my range by catching a bug in a jar and walking as far as they could. Those I actively countered by making the bug “die” instantly upon capture. When they stepped out of range the bug’s mind would keep obeying its final order, and so they stayed “dead”.

To this day, the rumors on my actual range varied, wildly, amongst the Jedi and the crechelings. I’m pretty sure only the Jedi Masters had an idea, by sensing Queen Administrator’s coldness in the Force through the insects themselves. A subtle bit of sensory attunement, even for them.

It was… irritating. But I had to concede that it was a natural response. No one liked to be constantly spied on, and even Vicky, from time to time, asked me to get the bugs away from her to give her some privacy.

Besides, what was I gonna do? Never sleep again?

“So, something happened last night?” I prodded.

She nodded, eyes downcast and features miserable. “I…” she swallowed. “I told Taleen that Master Beq would send him off to the AgriCorp to dig in the dirt in a few months since he’s too stupid for anything else. Too stupid to be a Jedi.”

I took a breath, one hand rising to rub at my forehead. “And why did you say that?” I asked.

The ten year old shrugged. “He has a stupid face.”

I heard a strangled, half snicker from my partner and shot Vicky a sharp, icy warning look.

So help me if all of this happened as the culmination of kids pulling pig-tails…

“So don’t send Iskt away,” she pleaded. “It's all my fault! Not his!”

“I’m not sending Iskt away,” I repeated with an aggravated sigh while looking at the morose girl. “What do you think should happen here, Karla?” I asked.

She shrugged, mumbling a noncommittal under her breath.

I sighed, standing up and walking to be in front of her as I knelt, one hand rising to pat her on the head.

“It’s going to be okay,” I said, feeling the base of her lekku muscles twitch under my fingers. “I’ll speak with Master Beq,” ‘cause I really feel like I could use some advice right now, “and we’ll decide what to do. But no one is getting kicked out. No one is leaving, I promise, ok?”

She nodded.

“Good girl. Now, do you want me to take you back down to the creche?”

She shook her head with a mumbled “M’fine. I can do it.”

Even if she said that, looking at her, I still felt bad.

“Yeah, you’re a big girl,” I answered.

Calling over a butterfly from the tiny hive I had in the living room, I had it flutter over to her, landing it on the back of her hand.

“Lemme keep an eye on you anyway. Ok? For me?” I asked.

She nodded, hopping off the couch as she used the other hand to shield the little butterfly resting on her knuckles as I escorted her out of the door.

As it hissed shut behind her and the tiny girl started walking away, I found myself pressing my fingers to the bridge of my nose.

“Christ,” I sighed.

“I think you handled that well,” Vicky chimed in behind me.

“I think Beq will handle this well because I’m not sure what exactly to do here, anymore,” I admitted. And that was painful to do in and of itself.

I turned to Vicky, the frown on my face countering her hesitant smile.

“This making you think about the Padawan thing even more?” I decided to ask, if only to change the subject.

“Aha, heard about that, huh?” Her demeanor took on a distinctly nervous air. Her eyes darted around, avoiding looking at me. “It just… it seems like a big decision, ya know?”

It was... and yet...

“I feel like this isn’t just about taking a Padawan,” I observed, stepping closer.

Her hands rose, half hugging herself as she crossed her arms. “I…” she let out an explosive breath. “Tell me honestly: is this ok?” She gestured around us. “Like, all of this? Being a Jedi? Living in a communal temple with secrets? Being… I don’t know stranded homeless living off charity?”

I raised an eyebrow surprise clear on my face and her immediate answer was shame, showing across her own

This was really bothering her. More than that, she’d been thinking about this for a while. I stepped closer, forcing my feet to cooperate. I reached for her hand, and she took it gratefully.

“How long has that been running around in your head? Why didn’t you come to me sooner?” I wasn’t angry, or hurt. But we spoke about most things. Why not this?

She shrugged. “I was trying to get it to make sense in my own head. Jury’s out on how well that’s been going.” She paused. “It’s just...” she hesitated. “It feels weird, you know?” she said. “All of this. It’s not where I expected to be when I was younger, ya know?” She shrugged. “A part of me still thinks one day something will happen and we’ll be back. And this will all feel like a dream or something.”

“Is that what you want?” I asked, feeling a needle of anxious fear cut through me.

“No… and yes,” she grunted. “I don’t want to ‘go back’ without you. I don’t want to lose my friends here and yet… it feels like if I say yes… That’s it, you know? I’m finally admitting it. I’m finally letting it – them – go. And that’s… that’s fucking terrifying on so many levels.”

I made my arm move, reaching to brush my thumb across her cheek as my mind prodded hers.

She let down her shields, and let her innermost thoughts tell me what she was finding so hard to say.

Hope.

It was hope.

A hope she’d never really let go of.

A hope to help her family. A hope to save her sister. A hope to save so many that died. Hope that she didn’t have to let go half of our lives so utterly and completely..

She asked for entry into my mind, and I regretted immediately that I didn’t – couldn’t – share her hope.

I could understand it. I could even admire her for it.

But I couldn’t share it.

All I had left back home was my dad… and I don’t even know if I had him by the end.

Instead, I offered something different. Something almost alien to the person I’d been before.

Peace.

I don’t think I’d ever known it in the past. But I knew it here. Peace with the life she’d built with me here. Peace with the responsibilities, headaches, and joys that comprised them.

Peace with whatever her choice might be.

“I’m with you,” I said in my own voice. “If, tomorrow, you want to take a ship and search for a way home… we can do that. If you want to become a Master to a Padawan, we can do that too. I will be happy,” I admitted, “as long as you’re with me.”

“What about your creche?” she asked, voice warbling with emotion she tried to suppress.

…

“We might have to kidnap master Beq and steal a bigger than average ship, but we can manage,” I joked, smiling as I heard her chortle at the mental image.

I leaned forward, one arm reaching up to coil around the back of her head, pulling her close, as I kissed her temple.

“You and me against the world,” I repeated her long-held oath. “It goes both ways.”

She nodded, sniffling, before she leaned closer, head resting on my shoulder as she hugged me.

“When did you get so good at pep talks?” she asked.

“You’ve given them to me so many times, I picked up a thing or two.”

She snickered; my smile tugged more firmly at my lips as I kissed the top of her head, getting the scent of her shampoo in my nose. It was good to be the tall one.

“I love you,” she declared.

“I love you too.”

(X)(X)(X)

Palpatine:

Night on Coruscant could scarcely be called such. With so many lights across so many buildings, darkness was a foreign entity on this planet.

As he stood in his apartment where he had a clear, unobstructed view of the Jedi Temple, he drank lightly, sipping Algiri Red.

Vosa’s failure was irritating. Failure was not an unfamiliar irritant, but it was still an irritant.

Amidala, Organa, or Satine dead in that meeting would have simplified things many times over. If not for his spy in the Naboo guards, he never would have known until it was too late.

As it was, if Alexandria was half as competent as she seemed, she would likely discover his spy.

Another asset wasted. Another avenue closed.

But still, as one door slammed shut, another creaked open.

The doorbell chimed.

“Enter.”

It hissed open and Palpatine turned, already knowing who had arrived.

“Chancellor,” Jorus C’baoth greeted him, nodding politely, eyes as cold as ever. The title slipped from his lips with an easy undertone.

Palpatine made his lips curl into a smile. “Jorus… I take it things did not proceed as you wished,” he said. He didn’t need to guess at that.

The Dark Jedi before him was a powerful one. His power, with proper nurturing, could indeed rival Palpatine’s own.

But that power had blinded the fool. Made him arrogant, narcissistic. Believing he held greater merit than he truly did.

And such an attitude did not endear him to his fellows.

A resentment Palpatine could use – and had been using – to bend this powerful weapon to his will, turning the man against the Jedi he professed to want to save.

“It is as you say,” the man stroked at his beard, lips twisting in displeasure. “Complacent, narrow minded fools.”

He shook his head. “If they are so determined to be foolish, best to wipe the slate clean. Even if that means working with a Sith.”

Palpatine smiled. “For now, my friend, our goals align.” He chuckled under his breath. “To that end… there is something you can do. A way that we might, perhaps, destroy the greatest members of the High Council in one, single stroke.”

Jorus raised an eyebrow, hands clasped behind his back. “Master Yoda?”

“And Windu, and likely even Master Plo Koon as well,” he promised. “All gone. In one, single instant.”

Jorus frowned. “The Conclave?”

“No, my friend,” he shook his head. “If this plan works, they will never even reach their vaunted Conclave.”

“How?”

“I have it on good authority that Senator Amidala – who survived a recent attack – will be returning to Naboo. Under the protection of a single, insignificant Padawan…”

(X)(X)(X)

And palpy keeps making moves on the board...

I'm having fun. You guys having fun? I'm having fun :)

Discord Link for those of you interested in joining the discussion

https://discord.gg/nN8NwUdN

TV tropes link for those of you who can contribute :D

https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Fanfic/TheWeavingForce