I don't consider myself a speciesist by any means, but it was hard not to acknowledge the awkwardness sometimes inherent in interactions with non-humans, particularly non-mammals. With other Jedi, you at least have those norms and presumed values to fall back on. Not so today.

Neither my sight nor my senses detected any strong emotion from the two engineers as they watched me parry the training drones. I was up to eight (five when blindfolded), and had taken to keeping my saber fully powered up while drilling Soresu. I replaced a drone a week on average.

Ssotissin called a halt after about ten minutes, beckoning me to view her portable work station. She was a Sluissi, and I noticed she instinctually adjusted her posture on her thick, snake-like lower body as I stepped next to her. Noe Tah, Ssotissin's Duros assistant, input data on her own pad, not even sparing the two of us a glance with her glassy red eyes.

"You can see here where the patterns manifest," Ssotissin showed me on her panel. "The algorithms self-corrected, and were past eighty percent accuracy in the first ninety seconds."

"What's the usual plateau?" I asked.

"Nine-nine point four, but that's with multiple data sources and offline processing. Real-time, you can expect to hit ninety-five percent."

"We won't have the probing functions," Noe Tah reminded her.

"True." The research chief let out a frustrated exhalation. "As part of the standard combat program, the droid can be directed to make certain moves to see how the target responds. We can't do that here, so there may be part of the combat space that is left unexplored."

"But it will remember particular combatants, correct?" I asked.

"Yes. And it will categorize similar subjects for extrapolation. What you call 'forms.' We gave it the basic Jedi tutorials to start from as test data." The Sluissi brought up a display that showed me in my closed guard, the words 'Kenobi' and 'Form III' both visible.

I hummed my approval. "And the form factor?"

Noe Tah gestured to the long metal bracer on her desk. "This 'cortosis' metal of yours is hard to work with. I can recommend several titanium alloys with better properties-"

Wordlessly, I drew my lightsaber and plunged it into the wrist plating. Both engineers flinched back as the plasma cascaded against the surface, shorting out the blade. The Duros touched her long fingers to the burn mark on the surface, jerking again at the heat. "Yes, okay. My suggested alloys lack that property."

Ssotissin asked, "Where can we find more of that?" Her engineer's mind was working through the implications.

I shrugged. "Research Five has a small supply. It's difficult to refine; not many commercial applications at the price point. Too niche."

Noe Tah nodded, monitoring the upload. "I can see that. Electrified extensions is a cheaper counter for droids. But to answer your question, the form factor is fine. Plenty of room for the processors, even with your prohibition on wireless internals."

"Here's the kludge, though." Ssotissin removed a disk-shaped component from her console, clipping it into a thick plaited chain before handing it to me.

"A necklace?" I carefully fit it around my neck. It was surprisingly heavy - much denser than the bracer, certainly.

"The system can't predict what it can't see. The sensory amulet has built-in vision and recognition, but no predictive algorithm. In case the sensor bands on the bracelet are obscured or just too low-res, this will supplement. Flex-fiber optical connection; nothing wireless."

Noe Tah unplugged the bracer from her console and presented it to me almost reverently. I adjusted the straps as I put it on my left arm, feeling the haptic feedback when it slid into place.

"How often do you need the data?" I backed up and activated my lightsaber, alternating between left and right hands to feel the difference in weight. This was very different than a full cortosis shield, which occupied the entire hand. The intent here was specifically not to occupy the left arm, allowing the usual range of lightsaber moves.

"Weekly. If you're off-planet for more than a month, we can make arrangements for remote archival. But it's not recommended." Ssotissin gestured to Noe Tah, and the two of them closed down their work stations.

I was about to reactivate my drones, when I noticed them standing there, looking at me with what I thought might be curiosity. I sensed a question from them. "Was there anything else?"

Fear spiked as the senior engineer spoke. "Rumors say the Dark Jedi have returned. Is it true?"

I allowed my mind to expand, touching each of theirs still lightly but more fully than before. Noe Tah was mostly curious, but in Ssotissin was a genuine fear. "The Sith, yes. They have made their presence known to the Jedi Order again."

"And…" she weaved back and forth on her core, nervously, "that's what all this is for? Why you're working with BCA, sponsoring these projects?"

To be honest, I was taken back by the questions. Baktoid paid well for researchers that were not only brilliant, but discreet. I'd had queries from senior executives before, in the boardroom or in private, but never from a senior tech.

Still, I saw no reason not to give an honest answer. "That's the main reason, yes. Not every project I'm involved with deals directly with that - some of them will just make BCA a lot of money, and some I have a more… personal interest in." Just fighting the routine disposal of so-called 'defective' units was a seriously uphill climb.

The Sluissi crossed her arms in front of herself, a gesture of respect. "I… We…" she tilted her head at her subordinate, who nodded, "We are honored to support this effort. Many worlds have histories, many more legends, of the cruelties of these tyrants, the 'Sith.' Their swift defeat could prevent untold suffering." I felt an echo when she said that, wailing, a memory of pain.

I nodded. "Thank you. I will do everything I can. I'm grateful that others feel the same."

The awkwardness quickly stretched out again as neither of us had anything more to say. Finally they turned and left, and I went back to another round of exercises.