Shaak is an alien

Shmi is no stranger to other species. In fact, it's how different humans can be from one another that shocked her the most upon moving to Coruscant. Like herself, everyone she knew grew up on Tatooine, and the planet shapes the people. And other humans, from other worlds, have been shaped differently.

But being around aliens doesn't mean she's ever imagined marrying one. Perhaps the ones she knew best-the Toydarian Watto and the Hutts-were too different. Shaak is the right size and shape-though the term 'humanoid' is thought impolite, particularly among Jedi. After all, there's no reason to make humans the standard.

Yet there are differences that aren't immediately obvious, and Shmi is never sure she won't get a new surprise today. Like the first time she got a whiff of lust-which Shaak, naturally, felt in the Force and instantly pinpointed, causing Shmi to blush. It was a hot day, and Shmi was visiting Anakin at the Temple. They were relaxing in the swimming pool, when Master Obi-Wan and Anakin got called away to deal with some youngling trouble. Shmi stayed behind-and that's when Shaak leapt over her to flip in mid-air and plunge into the water, dressed in a white bikini.

Shmi remembers two details from that day. The first is that had to push herself to talk; she really didn't want Shaak to only see her stare at her body. The second is the forever etched in her mind image of her first glimpse of Shaak's bare feet.

Shaak's bare, red-skinned, six-toed feet.

It's not like the number of toes is important. It's just that it's unexpected, and it's the first time for Shmi that Shaak's alienhood intrudes into their connection as individuals.

It's not the last.

Togrutas' body temperature runs a couple of degrees higher than humans'; sleeping together in the cold feels very nice. Shaak laughs when Shmi gets concerned about lack of reciprocity. "We share the bed in summer as well as winter, don't we?" But neither of them can just feel the other and know if they have a fever, and how severe it is. Shmi's sure a couple of colds got the worse for lack of timely prevention because of this.

Togrutas' body coordination is handled by separate areas of the brain in the air and in the water. Shmi is a poor swimmer, having had no chance to learn until she left Tatooine. But even she, with that limitation and without the Force, can trounce Shaak in a game like water polo, where Shaak's coordination switch is flipping constantly, making her flounder in both.

Togrutas' hearing limits on either end are at higher frequencies than humans. The two women are incapable of experiencing the others' favorite music at all-pieces one finds moving and beautiful the other only gets headaches and irritation from as instruments, vocals, and notes suddenly go unheard. They both like music, Shmi even makes a little of her own occasionally. And it is something they share, yet can't experience together.

"I'm not fond of it, either," Shaak tells her. "But it'll be the lucky day indeed if ever that is the only thing left to fix in the galaxy."

Shmi can only nod. "The Force doesn't care, you know," Shaak continues.

"What?"

"Species. To the Force, it doesn't matter."

Shmi meets her eyes. "You can feel my presence, right? I feel different-"

"Of course. I can tell it's you on the other side of that wall, and not Knight Secura, or Master Yoda. But I can also tell it's you rather than Master Windu or Knight Tachi-whom, last I checked, are human. There's no quantity of difference, either-the Force doesn't work like that."

"And does that mean anything?"

"Do you want it to mean something? Maybe it means we are all the same if you look deep enough, maybe it means individual differences are more important than species differences. And maybe it means that however the differences present themselves, we haven't developed a way to spot them."

"How would that work?"

"If you were blind, there'd be some differences between us you couldn't know unless told about. There could be lekku and montrals and red skin and hot blood hanging off my Force signature, and our Jedi training simply doesn't teach you how to notice them."

"Sounds more like something the Sith would want."

Shaak nods. "I don't think it would be forbidden-knowledge is never evil in itself. But it would be an odd research project for a Jedi Master to undertake. And it would probably not work."

"Why not?"

"Like you said-the Sith would employ it, if they could. They used species-specific weaknesses in the wars often enough. If no Jedi or Sith in millennia had done it, chances are, it's just the way the Force is."

Shmi frowns. "Do you then-see me as I am in the Force? And that's why you don't care if I'm human?"

"I don't care because you're you. Do you separate in your mind how you see me, how you hear me, how you touch me?"

"No. You're just you-I experience it all together."

"Well, so do I. What the Force tells me about you is just another facet-along with my eyes, my ears..."

"But those things tell you I'm human."

"Not directly. The differences were described, their cause determined, and allowed classification into 'humans' and 'Togruta'. And then we learned about that classification from others. It's not a meaningless distinction, and it's not arbitrary, but it is social. The Force, being above our society, doesn't tell us any of this anymore than there is a label 'Togruta' on me in some nonexistent universal script.

"And what, and how much, meaning we ascribe to those differences is entirely up to us. Make any one difference too important, and you lose the balance. That... can have unpleasant consequences."

"I know."

"So can pretending they aren't there-or worse, trying to erase them."

"Someone did that?"

"Not successfully, or we wouldn't be here. But yes, they tried. Many times."

Shmi leans into her. "You're really good at this."

"What?"

"Saying 'it could be worse', but in a manner that doesn't irritate."

"I am not saying that. You are hearing it. But I'm glad you're taking it well. It could be better, too. I've devoted my life to making things better."

"You make it better for me, certainly."

"Thanks. And as far the differences..." she rubs her montral. "You are just as unexpected for me as I am for you."