Qui-Gon looked up at Mace Windu in mild surprise. "One of the Alternians wishes to join our mission to negotiate trade matters with the Neimoidians?"
The Jedi Master nodded at him. "Not just any Alternian. The Mage of Light." Beside Qui-Gon his apprentice looked fascinated.
"She must know something."
"She knows whatever she wants to know." Windu interrupted. "I would allow her to accompany you, Qui-Gon. She can bring great...luck. As she calls it."
"The Force wills this." Qui-Gon nodded at the other man and turned to his apprentice. "Go get our ship ready for an extra body."
X
Semele Maryam was spacing out in the perfect darkness of her hive, trying not to know anything. Suspended in the last of her authentic sopor slime, she dreamed an uneasy sort of dream. Knowing the many branching possibilities of the world and seeing them all in her head never made her feel reassured like so many believed it might. At least her living expenses were paid for by the Jedi as long as she kept to herself mostly and didn't cause scenes with the things she knew.
Hearing a rustling outside of her sleeping pod, she popped her eyes open, looking through the green slime and out the window. Her living space was practically devoid of anything. It had a minimalistic design for a reason, after all. That being that most of the time she wore a blindfold when people were over, because even a little light was painful to her eyes. It was something of a cruel joke, being a jade blood. Jade bloods were the only trolls who could stand sunlight and even enjoyed it. But Semele? It was a double edged sword. As such, she kept her space clean as possible. It did however boast a colorful collection of paintings.
Lip curving, she pulled herself out of the top and slipped on the woven cloth by the sleeping pod. Then she covered the top of the pod so the slime would stay slimy and went to answer the door before it could be knocked on. There was a young Jedi apprentice and an older man who she thought must be his master. The young man was startled. "She answered before we knocked. I thought Alternians were incapable of connection to the force?"
Semele smiled. "Well, young Padawan. We are. But you'll find most of us still hear and smell much better than your average citizen of the Republic. That...however is still not the case for me." She gestured to her right where there was meticulously hand painted eye with an insane amount of detail. "I can see you just fine." The eye blinked as she did. She focused on them with the eye and started to know things about them. "Ah. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan? You're the ones sent to break the blockade on Naboo. Excellent. Let me grab my things."
As she turned around in the doorway she left it open. "You may come in, if you'd like. There's a light by the door." Even with the multilayered blind fold, she still saw when the light flicked on. It was still enough to make her flinch. She went to the back room which was little more than a walk in closet full of her dead sister's best designs. She brushed her fingers over fabrics of all kinds, opening the eye in the closet. She found the jade green dress skirt and a black top that would leave her belly exposed. It had long sleeves with holes for her thumbs. She dressed quickly before grabbing a whisp of a see through jade jacket. It was made of the thinnest, spun lusus silk thread. It was the last of its kind given all lusii were now dead.
Dressed, she joined the Jedi in her minimal living room. Obi-Wan looked very uncomfortable, squirming on the couch. "What is it?" She asked, cocking her head.
He looked at his master for guidance. Qui-Gon nodded. Obi-Wan looked back at her. "Why are your paintings...angry? And hurt?"
She sighed at the serious subject matter. "I don't usually tell guests, because I know it seems rather grim to other species. Barbaric even. The paintings are made of the blood of my fallen friends. I imagine there are probably some physic imprints left of their last moments." She was quiet a moment. "It was a war. There was never time to grieve any losses. Besides of which, our custom was to leave bodies where they fell to fuel other life. Why? Do they say something to you?"
He shook his head. "Just screaming."
She nodded, connecting some dots. "It makes perfect sense now why every Jedi to sit in my living room squirms like that. Thank you for telling me. I'll...put them away."
Obi-Wan shook his head. "No. It's fine. I just thought you might want to know they carry the imprint of the deaths."
She let her lips curve in a smile. "Thank you. Shall we go? I need to make a couple stops before we get on our way. I have to check on my moirail."
Obi-Wan looked curious. "The only Alternians I've ever met don't want to talk about it."
Qui-Gon gave him a gentle look as they walked, but Semele chuckled to herself, happy enough to share. "Well, it's probably a combination of things. The biggest thing I can think of is that we experience four types of love, and one of them your people...the vast majority of people would deem abusive. And maybe it is. But we still call it love. That one is referred to as a kismesis, or pitch feelings. It is usually represented by a black symbol; a spade. Moirallegiance like I mentioned is...well it's love too, but it's platonic. The best han equivalent I can think of is...non-romantic soulmates. It goes beyond simple best friends, after all."
Obi-Wan thought a moment. "It sounds rather complicated."
Semele chuckled. "Oh, I suppose it is." They had arrived at her moirail's home. She knocked and got no answer. "That's to be expected. The sun isn't down just yet, after all. Hang on a moment, gentlemen." She reached into a pocket on her skirt and pulled out a small, very square envelope that she reached through crack in the window and taped onto the inside of the door. "We can go now."
X
In the house Gamzee Makara stirred, eyes begining to redden as he stared at a half empty pie tin across the room. He needed...to do something. But what had that been?