CT-1552 – Shili
It was strange to Dreamer, seeing a planet full of Togruta. Perhaps it was simply that he'd grown so acclimated to only ever seeing them amongst the rank of the Jedi, the rest preferring to remain home but for the rare wanderer.
Yet nobody else had been put off by it, instead busying themselves with an investigation of mysterious craft that kept showing up to steal their children. They'd listened to the heartbroken parents of six different children before General Durel and Commander Halai had disappeared into a cave to meditate.
Two hours later, they'd come out, saying that between discussion and reaching out with the Force, they'd found the next strongest child. They'd waited for sixteen hours, then moved to stakeout a tiny village on the edge of a vibrant and multi-colored forest.
Padawan Halai had spent much of the last hour dueling with General Durel in an impressive showing. Then she'd stepped away to rest, and the Jedi Knight left to meditate.
Dreamer had spent most that time playing cards in the corner of their small clearing with the rest of the clones, getting a loss handed to him with each round by Tank. The infuriatingly perfect commander seemed to conquer everything he dabbled in, and it was starting to irritate Dreamer.
"You might be the worse Pazaak player I've ever seen," their captain said when the sergeant once again went out first. "What's the longest you've made it, two rounds?"
"Good thing we don't have credits to spend, Dreamer, or you'd be begging for food in the mess hall come tomorrow."
"Don't think we're going to be in the mess hall tomorrow," Dreamer answered.
"No, more than likely not." Tank looked down, dealt some cards to the players still in, then looked up at the sergeant. "Tell me, honestly, what do you think the chances are against a school of Sith?"
"They aren't real Sith, remember," Dreamer said. "We've got General Durel here, and Padawan is no easy fight. And don't underestimate the Bothan, either. Or rather, let the enemy underestimate him."
"What do you mean?"
"You know that assassin I killed, sir?" He nodded. "That little guy over there practically went forgotten in the fight. The Force user saw a heavily-armed clone ready to do battle, and that took all his attention. He taunted me, keeping an explosive in midair, because he forgot that there was someone small and 'insignificant' right there."
"Hm, good point." Tank looked at the alien corporal, who was talking to their pilot. "He seems private, though. Has barely said a word to me outside of combat."
"Hm, he talks to me on occasion." Dreamer grinned, scratching at the hair on his jaw. "Maybe I'm finally better that you at something, Captain."
"Well, we can't have that." Tank turned and raised his voice. "Corporal!" The Bothan glanced over to see who was calling him. "Hey, do you want to play Pazaak!? You can embarrass Dreamer, if you want!"
"I don't play cards."
"Well, at least come over here and share some war stories!"
"I have none to share."
"You just came from a battlefield, and you have no war stories?!"
"No."
The flat delivery of each answer indicated well enough that the Bothan wasn't interested in intermingling with the clones—Dreamer the notable exception. His brown gaze met Tank's not in challenge, but in bored ambivalence.
Then he looked back to Kurik, talking quietly with the Miralukan.
"Hm, I think he doesn't like me."
"Could be that you yelled at him from across the clearing, sir." Dreamer looked to the entrance of the smaller clearing adjacent to theirs. "Hm, I wonder what our commander is up to."
"Why don't you go find out?" Tank asked, reshuffling the cards. "You're no use to anyone here."
Dreamer didn't respond, aware that the captain was just trying to encourage a friendly camaraderie that fell flat under the weight of his effortless perfection. Instead, he just nodded and stood, turning to the other clearing and moving into the treeline.
He tried to be quiet as he approached, her cross-legged posture on the ground indicating that she was meditating, an activity he had no desire to disturb. He became concerned, however, when he noticed an array of pieces scattered before her, a crystal in the middle of it all. It took him a moment to realize what he was looking at, and he was unable to hold his worry in.
"Why did you break your lightsaber, Commander?" Dreamer asked, pushing through the final fern and stepping into the clearing..
"It's not broken." Neria gestured to her hip, and he looked down to find it still strapped to her belt. "No, this is Master Kullenan's old crystal, attuned to me. I managed to buy some parts at Jabba's palace while we were waiting, and I...um...acquired a few things I needed from our ship."
"Ah, I see."
"You need to stop calling me that, you know."
"Ma'am?"
"Commander." She didn't look up at him, but he could feel her attention on him regardless. "I'm not even a knight yet, not even an adult. I'm hardly skilled enough to be compared to an experienced military officer. You may as well call me 'Queen of the Galaxy' for as fitting as it sounds."
Dreamer was flummoxed by the strange request. In both training and simply his own mind, it sounded more than appropriate to refer to the powerful beings by a title commanding respect. Yet he supposed he could understand her discomfort. After all, he knew what it was like to be fitted with a name that seemed so inappropriate.
So he opted for some friendly rapport, instead.
"I hate to be the one to break this to you, Padawan Halai, but I suspect you may not have the bearing for royalty."
That did it. The padawan's eyes opened, and a laugh tore from her lips. She held a hand out to the clone, as if to halt him.
"Stop," she said. "Stop, I need to actually get something done over here." Her sapphire eyes turned to him. "Just...Just wait there, for a second. This shouldn't take too long."
He'd never seen what she was about to do, and curiosity alone kept him stuck to his spot. She lowered her eyes back to her task, closed them again, and lifted her hands from where they lay in her lap.
Over a dozen pieces, all told, and they seemed to shake and tremble in the slightest as the padawan suspended them in air. She still held them fast, however, and a glowing crystal moved to the center as the rest of the pieces suddenly lined up to either side of it.
They came together one by one, and they seemed to steady the fewer pieces there were. Finally, two sides remained, a skeletal casing assembled between them and over the crystal. Then it all came together, forming into one solid handle.
"Not bad," Dreamer said, not sure what else he could say. "Come on, let's see it, Padawan."
The teenager smiled up at Dreamer, took to her feet, then pulled her other weapon out with her free hand. She took a stance, almost certainly exaggerated for Dreamer's benefit.
Two blue lightsabers shone through the night, the one in the hand out front slightly shorter than the other. She went through the movements with both, surprisingly smooth considering the difficulty inherent with wielding two weapons.
"Feels stable," she said. "Feels right."
"You can actually use two?"
"Not perfectly, but it wouldn't be my first time." With a hiss, the lightsabers deactivated. "On Geonosis, I wielded two. A modified Soresu stance, I used the one in my off-hand for blocking or deflecting while I attacked with the other."
"Surprised nobody's thought of that before."
"If anyone ever asks, it took me days of meditating and reading ancient texts to figure out, perfected after years of practice."
"And the truth, Padawan?"
"It was sloppy, and I was...panicking."
His laugh echoed around the camp, drawing a scorning look from Tank and a sheepish smile from the Twi'lek padawan.
"Sorry," he said. "That's just like you."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"It's meant as one, don't worry. I guess I'm just more surprised than anything that you prefer defense to attack."
"Prefer defense? Do I not attack with these? Have I been under the impression these were weapons instead of living room decorations to be seated on the mantle?"
"It's not like that, Padawan Halai. Just...the few Jedi I've seen with two always use both to attack. Your way just seems more...cautious than I would expect out of you."
"I like them to make a move first." She shrugged. "Easier to see what I'm dealing with, that way."
"Well, I—"
A sharp stab of pain at his temple, and he cried out, hand going to the nagging pain that continued to plague him. No longer was it a simple throb, but it had suddenly twisted within his skull, as if provoked.
"What's wrong?!" Neria's cry was distant, almost muted through the thick pain that had settled onto his mind. "Master Durel! Quick!"
Everything was hazy, the rush of sound approaching echoing, like it was coming from everywhere. All he could feel was the agony, which continued to surge through his head and radiate all down his spine, ending in his forearms and thighs.
Suddenly, the pain eased, a warmth emanating from the source and spreading outward. After some time, his eyes fluttered open, and he found Jedi Knight Durel kneeling in front of him, hand covering his temple. There was clear concern in the Zabrak's eyes and in the gazes of his fellow clones, who stood over the Jedi's shoulder. Neria was next to him, mouth creased into a worried line. Even Kurik managed to look concerned, coming over with Corporal Gebb-Ti.
"Are you okay, my friend?" Durel's voice was quiet, soothing.
"Sorry for the concern, General. I think I'm still just shaken up after that grenade on Bothawui. Don't worry, I'll be fine."
"You don't seem like you'll be fine."
"I'm gonna want you to report to medical when we get back to Coruscant, Dreamer," Tank said. "I'm serious, Sergeant, we can't have you collapsing in the field like this."
"I'm alright, Captain, really."
"No, you're not." His russet eyes hardened. "You're going to medical when we get back, understood?"
Dreamer knew the difference between a suggestion between friends and an order from a superior. "Yes sir," he said. "The moment we step on Coruscant."
"Good, we..."
He went silent as a small whine filled the air, a piercing sound that only served to make the remnants of the throbbing pain briefly flare back to life. Yet they all knew what it was. The sound of engines, starship engines specifically.
They looked up to see a sleek, grey vessel of strange make slip from the clouds, coming in low over the forest and eventually turning toward the village, a place that was far too rustic to attract normal visitors with a ship so clearly expensive.
"There they are," Tank muttered, looking at the ship. "Just in time. Should we intercept, General?"
"No," Durel answered. "They won't harm the children, we know that, and if we attack now, we risk destroying our only lead." He activated the transmitter on his arm. "Captain, are you there?"
"I'm here," Dilt answered, the smuggler ornery as ever. "Are our targets here?"
"They are. Coming in from..."
As he gave the coordinates, Dreamer watched the vessel descend into the city. He wanted nothing more than to rush in there, save the child from the clutches of the Sith, and call it a victory, but he knew why they had to wait.
"Yeah, I see 'em," Dilt said. "I'll track them out and plot their trajectory when they jump out. Then I'll swing down and pick you up."
"Very good." His eyes turned to the group, and his gaze noticeably lingered on Dreamer. "Are we all ready?"
"We are, General," Dreamer replied.
But judging from the ache of his head and the twisting of his stomach, he wasn't feeling ready.
Thanks to the people reviewing, favoriting the story, and all of that. It always helps
I think I should be able to put out two chapters a week, this certainly was easier than I thought it would be. So there you go, that's what I'm gonna try to do, now. One Sunday, one Wednesday, if all goes to plan.