A Young Girl’s War Between the Stars

  72

  Kamino. 36 BBY/964 GSC.

  “There’s not much to it,” Allaya complained, looking out over the expanse of clear blue sky and water reflecting the sun, dotted with the occasional habitation structure.

  “It’s pretty,” Asajj mused, before quietly adding, “but I don’t want to go in the water.”

  Allaya shivered. “Nope. Too deep, too much.”

  “We’ll start you off somewhere a bit safer,” I agreed. “There’s no point risking a riptide or something. Not on an ocean world.”

  As we drew nearer, I could see one of the floating units was apparently a massive training facility, where a large number of armored people were currently going through various training exercises. I spotted an obstacle course, a shooting range, a sparring area, and what looked like a training simulation area composed of a mix of environments from buildings to ships.

  The sun reflected off of their armor, giving it an odd look that made it look like cheap plastic even from the air, telling me it was probably not metal but likely some sort of composite or something. I didn’t believe Master Dyas would cheap out, but with as many clones as he was expecting to have produced and the need to have cheap, durable, reliable armor in two identical patterns—one male, one female—across the whole army it might make sense to use some kind of material that could just be quickly pressed into shape and churned out by the thousands per day.

  Several of those on the field actually stood out. I recognized Jango and Sheeka working with some of the troops, but not the older man in full Mando armor with his helmet off or the young boy beside him. Of course, there were a few Kaminoans around the area, taking notes and recording results as they observed. But there were also a number of other Mandalorians in full armor in a wide variety of colors, moving around the training field and helping the clones.

  I eased the ship down on the landing pad beside Jango’s ship, along with another I didn’t recognize. Humming quietly to myself, I shut off the ship as the girls hopped up and rushed for the hatch. Standing, I checked my equipment as a force of habit before following them as the hatch opened out onto the platform. The girls both perked up, stretching in the sunlight. Arthree rolled along behind me as the hatch shut.

  “Come on, we’re going in,” I called for them as I made my way over to the door.

  We only had to wait a few moments for a Kaminoan to come greet us. The tall alien bowed. “Jedi Mereel, welcome back. You received our message, then?”

  “I did,” I nodded. “I’m excited to see what you’ve done.” Glancing over at my Padawans, I saw them both staring up at the tall alien and chuckled. “These are my Padawans, Asajj and Allaya. Once we’ve got the eyes in and tested, if they’re to my satisfaction, I’d like to set up the same plan for them that I have.”

  “Of course,” the Kaminoan nodded, before turning and heading deeper into the facility. “This way.”

  Glancing back briefly as we followed after, she asked, “Would you like to meet with your friends first? The surgery could take some time.”

  I nodded. “A good idea. These two could use a chance to get some fresh air and burn off some energy. They’ve been cooped up on the ship for too long.”

  With that, the alien woman led us through the halls and outside, to the training facility I had spotted from the air. The older man noticed us first. He looked us over for a moment, raising an eyebrow at the girls’ armor, before turning and whistling across the platform. Jango looked up at the older man, before his gaze shifted to find us. I felt the man’s amusement for a moment as he turned to Sheeka beside him and said something. She nodded and he left her overseeing the group they had been working with.

  When he got close enough, the Mando stopped and grinned as he looked me and the girls over. “They yours, or…?”

  I rolled my eyes. “They’re both my Padawans and part of the clan. This one,” I put a hand on Asajj’s shoulder, “is mine by the code. Jango Fett, meet Allaya Djo and Asajj Mereel.”

  “Well met,” he smiled down at them for a moment. Turning, he met the older man’s gaze and waved him over. “Tanya, there’s someone I want to introduce you to.”

  “Oh?” I asked, as the older Mando made his way over to the group with the young boy beside him. I sent him a nod. “Tanya Mereel,” I introduced myself.

  “Mereel?” he asked, glancing at Jango, who nodded.

  “Jaster adopted her into the clan a few years back,” Jango explained.

  We shook hands as the older man gave me his name. “Kal Skirata.”

  “‘Blade?’” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

  He nodded and chuckled. “Yeah, there’s a bit of a story there.”

  Jango waved the boy over and rested his hands on the child’s shoulders. “Tanya, this is my boy, Boba.”

  The boy stared up at me, dark eyes wide as he radiated the same sort of feelings I’d gotten from Allaya and Asajj at first—at least, until they got to know me better. I still occasionally caught them doing it, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been at first. “Nice to finally meet you, Boba,” I nodded.

  Kal’s eyes trailed down to the lightsabers on my belt, “So what’s a Jedi doing on Kamino? You here to evaluate the troops?”

  “And where’s your Master? Last I heard, old Dooku was planning to make some big announcement here soon,” Jango asked.

  I shook my head. “I’m here on personal business. I commissioned a project from the Kaminoans some years back and they recently let me know it’s finished. I thought I’d test it and, if I liked the results, I’d set up the same thing for my Padawans. As for Master Dooku, yes. He’s still preparing. It should be soon. Thankfully, I can travel entirely on my own now, since I was Knighted and transferred assignments within the Order. I’m free to go where I want, for the most part.”

  Glancing over their shoulders at the other Mandalorians, I asked, “Who are they? Hired help for the training?”

  “Yes. They’re Cuy’val Dar,” Jango nodded.

  Those who no longer exist? So they’re here long term and are keeping it quiet, I mused.

  “If you’ve got some time, how about a bit of practice?” the man went on to ask, a smirk creeping up on his lips as he shot a glance at Kal, radiating a sense of… amusement and anticipation, and something like schadenfreude.

  I nodded. “I’ll take you up on that. After the surgery. I’ll need to adjust after, and a warm-up sounds perfect. However,” I pushed Allaya and Asajj forward, “I can loan you my Padawans. They can always use more training against blasters, and it’ll keep them busy while I’m indisposed.”

  Kal raised an eyebrow, looking between me and the girls, before I felt the man’s doubt fade somewhat as he took in the armor. “We can do that.”

  “You had time to train them to shoot?” Jango asked, and I nodded.

  “I’ve drilled them thoroughly on the basics and have begun teaching them the formulas for target tracking—”

  “So much math,” Allaya whined, and I smacked the back of her head lightly.

  Jango chuckled. “So not quite as bad as you were.”

  “Not yet. But they’re getting there,” I assured him. “Their first shots are always on, at any rate. It’s adapting to changing situations that causes them issues. They haven’t figured out how to juggle multiple formulas and feed the results of one into the other.”

  Asajj sighed quietly. “It’s hard.”

  “It gets easier,” I reminded.

  Nodding, Jango motioned towards the Kaminoan waiting on me. “Go on ahead. We’ll take care of it.”

  “Thank you both,” I smiled, turning to head back into the facility. Arthree beeped and spun to follow, rolling after me quietly. I appreciated the company. While the Kaminoans seemed trustworthy and professional, it wouldn’t hurt to have someone I trusted in the room with me while I was unconscious, recording the entire procedure and ensuring nothing untoward happened.

  Behind me, I heard Jango snap, “Boba! Go get three rifles. We’re going to have a little shooting contest. Then, the three of you can spar for a bit so you can see where you stand.”

  The hatch closed behind us and I chuckled quietly. I hope this doesn’t rattle the boy’s confidence too badly. …I’m sure it’ll be fine. And if not, then it will just raise the bar he needs to meet higher. Of course, if he manages to show up either of my Padawans, that in and of itself is a valuable lesson they could stand to learn. I just wish Mundi hadn’t ruined things at the Temple and they could have had more time to spend among their peers, seeing where they stand comparatively.

  Eventually, we entered a small room where the tall alien gestured to a set of white hospital robe and a sonic shower. “Please remove your clothes and equipment and step into the shower,” she said, while stepping into the stall herself for a few moments before stepping back out.

  I quickly stripped out of my gear, folding what needed folding and placing it on nearby shelf. As I started towards the shower, the Kaminoan pointed to the silver orb dangling between my breasts. “That as well.”

  I frowned, before glancing at Arthree. The droid chirped and opened up a compartment. Stashing the orb inside, I felt truly naked for the first time in a long time as I stepped into the shower stall. A moment later, the high intensity shower kicked on and I made a face at the unpleasant feeling. Normal sonic showers generally felt like a buzzing against the skin. This felt like an all over sandpaper scrubbing.

  Once I stepped out and began pulling on the provided robe, Arthree rolled under the shower as well. The Kaminoan frowned minutely. “Your droid—”

  “Is coming with me,” I cut her off. Before she could protest, I held up a hand. “I’ll be unconscious for this, won’t I?”

  “It is recommended. We’ve found that most races have an instinctive panic reaction when it comes to instruments around their eyes.”

  “Well, there you go. It isn’t that I don’t trust the Kaminoans specifically. However, the list of people I would trust unconditionally with my body in a medically induced unconscious state can be counted on both hands with fingers left over.”

  The Kaminoan woman stared at me in silence for a few moments, considering it. Finally, she let out a quiet sigh and nodded. “Very well. Through here.”

  I followed her through a door on the far side of the room, which opened to reveal a force field or energy shield of some kind. She passed through with no issues, so I followed after, with Arthree on my heels. The field buzzed over my skin like static and on the other side, I raised an eyebrow at the very sterile smell to the air. No scents aside from those of the metal of the building and my own scent. Extremely low humidity. Lower temperature than outside.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  It’s a clean room environment, I realized as we walked down the hall and my guide entered a room to the right.

  Inside, I found another two Kaminoans waiting, along with a chair in the middle of the room. Beside the chair on either side were rolling tables with surgical implements and on each, a sealed cylinder made of glass and metal with an eye floating inside. A brief flutter of nervousness and body horror at the thought of what was to come settled in my stomach and chest and I forced myself to push it down and ignore it.

  “Please sit,” my guide instructed.

  Climbing into the cold chair, I settled into the plastic feeling seat and made myself as comfortable as possible. One of them stepped on a control on the floor and the seat began leaning back into a reclined position, as another picked up some device from the table on his side and pointed it at me. Then, it was like someone flipped a switch and I knew nothing as everything went black.

  Consciousness returned eventually and I came to groggily, feeling the familiar sensation of sedatives. The bed I was in was comfortable, if small—though I didn’t feel any sheets or a blanket, just the cushions beneath me. Somewhere nearby, Arthree beeped and booped and rolled closer.

  Reaching out with the Force, I felt those around me—thousands of clones, a group of Mandalorians, my Padawans, and many Kaminoans. Narrowing the scope of what I was feeling, I focused on just the room and pinpointed my guide just before she spoke.

  “How do you feel?” she asked, moving closer and running some sort of handheld scanner over my head.

  I turned my attention towards my body and hummed. I could feel something heavy that had been fastened over my face filled with warm liquid—touching it revealed some sort of metal and plastic feeling shield over my eyes that strapped around the back of my head. Other than the area around my eyes and face, I felt fine. The occasional flash of light popped in my field of vision, but that wasn’t really possible, so it was probably freshly attached nerves firing.

  “Bruised and a bit sore,” I reported. “Seeing spots of light and color.”

  “That is to be expected. No sharp pain, burning, or irritation? Any pain when you move?” she asked.

  I carefully nodded and shook my head, testing my range of motion. “No.”

  “Good. We’ve given you something to speed the healing process along. We should be able to remove the shield and bandages tomorrow—”

  “No need,” I shook my head. “I just need a few hours and somewhere to meditate.”

  “This is a room for post-operation patient recovery. You can spend as much time as you need here.” Pausing, she asked, “What did you mean by that? That you only need a few hours?”

  I chuckled, sitting up fully and settling into a comfortable cross-legged position. “I know some healing techniques that use the Force to speed things along. Arthree? I need my orb back.”

  The droid beeped a confirmation and I heard him move closer, then the hatch opening and one of his arms extending. I felt the orb ticking away and reached out to it in the Force, pulling it to me and slipping it over my head.

  “I see,” the woman murmured. “Do you mind if I observe and record the process using our diagnostic tools?”

  “Not at all. Just be quiet. Also, do me a favor? Send someone to go get Asajj and tell her to bring me some tea.”

  “I can have refreshments—”

  I shook my head. “This tea is special.”

  “Very well. Please allow me to set up some instrumentation first, before you begin,” the woman requested, and I nodded.

  “I’ll wait.”

  I felt her move away and heard the click and sounds of a holocom in use, followed by her speaking into it in Kaminoan. A few moments later, I felt Asajj move and hurry back through the complex towards my ship as my guide began setting up equipment.

  It wasn’t much of a wait before Asajj brought a metal thermos containing tea. “Here, Master.”

  “Thank you,” I sent her a smile and accepted the thermos, before opening it and sipping directly from it. “Back to training now.”

  “Mm,” she nodded and hurried out of the room.

  It was only a few minutes later that the woman finished setting up her equipment. Finishing off what I wanted of the tea for now, I sealed it up and put it to the side, before focusing on my meditation and healing, turning my attention towards my eyes.

  The bruises and swelling went down quickly. From there, I focused on the incisions, nerves, and muscles as I burned through what felt like bacta being supplied by the shield over my eyes.

  A little nudge in the Force directed me towards doing something inside both of them using light side sorcery, but I wasn’t entirely sure what. That was followed by pulling a tiny, incredibly thin ring of kyber crystal from the crystal face of my orb. Not enough to hurt it or damage the lattice—in fact, barely more than I would expect to accrue as minor surface damage over time.

  That ring split and melted under sorcery, consolidating as I directed it under the mask and under my eyelids, where it gently pushed through the cornea and merged with the lens of my eyes. More Force healing cleared up the minor damage done inserting the kyber and, a moment later, I blinked as ghostly images appeared even with my eyes closed.

  Turning my head, I saw what looked like colored fog flowing in a light wind through the room, outlining everything as though the world were transparent. My guide stood out as a faintly glowing Kaminoan shape nearby. Arthree appeared as a colorless lump in the shape of a droid, defined more by the flow of what must be the Force around him and the steady glow of Revan’s holocron hidden away inside him. A look towards where I knew Asajj and Allaya to be showed the two of them to be spots of bright light amid a crowd of much dimmer people. A few of the Mandos appeared brighter than the others, including Jango and Boba, but nowhere near as bright as my Padawans.

  There was an obvious movement to the flow immediately around me, as it spiraled in and disappeared into both my body and somewhere over my chest. Looking down, the computation orb appeared as a dark spot against my body—something that the Force was drawn into and simply disappeared.

  “Are you alright? My equipment registered something strange,” the Kaminoan woman asked, and I nodded.

  “Fine. It feels healed,” I reported, and reached up for the mask.

  The woman hummed and I saw the ghostly outline of her head nod. Standing, she moved over to the wall and did something at a panel beside the door. “Please be careful. I’ve dimmed the lights. Let me know if it’s too bright.”

  Keeping my eyes shut, I pulled off the shield and rested it in my lap. Through my eyelids, I could now faintly see the dim light of the room. Slowly, I cracked them open, ready to close them again at the first sign of pain. None came, however, so I slowly opened them all the way and took in the room.

  I blinked several times, my vision swimming as I slowly adjusted. The previously white walls, floor, ceiling, the Kaminoan woman’s clothes, my robes—they were all a riot of colors I didn’t have names for and given the way they swam in and out of focus as my head started to hurt, it seemed my brain didn’t know how to handle.

  Taking a steadying breath, I focused the healing technique on my head and waited. Slowly, things cleared up and came into focus, before sharpening. Finally, the colors resolved into something I could understand—it was like the usual color spectrum had been expanded, making everything look a bit over-saturated and brighter, more vivid, with only a few things standing out as something beyond that spectrum and into more even vivid shades of everything as it seemed like my brain decided to simply reuse what it was familiar with.

  “Strange,” I murmured.

  “Oh?”

  “It doesn’t look how I imagined.”

  The Kaminoan woman let out a quiet, amused sound. “I imagine not. Your eyes may now be capable of seeing infrared and ultraviolet light, but your brain has no frame of reference to interpret it. It will likely take some time to fully adapt. Can you tell me what you’re seeing?”

  “It’s like everything is in the same colors I could see already, but brighter, or over saturated. Colors… pop more. The patterns on the walls that I couldn’t see before all show up in the standard colors I’d expect to see normally.”

  The alien nodded, before asking, “And the quality of your vision?”

  I considered as I looked around the room. Spotting Arthree, I focused on the droid and my vision sharpened. “I can make out the serial numbers stamped into Arthree’s individual panels from here.” For scale, the font size for those letters and numbers was roughly half the thickness of a human hair and should have been practically invisible to the naked eye from any distance except inches away.

  “Good. We should run more tests,” the woman began, but I stood, making my way over to the cabinet where I could see the Force in my lightsaber and pistol’s crystals hidden away inside.

  “We’ll do that,” I agreed, opening it up and getting dressed. “But first, I’m going to go outside.”

  “I would not advise going into direct sunlight for another forty-eight hours,” the woman murmured, even as she stood and made to follow as I left the room. Quieter, almost to herself, she remarked, “Although, with the observed rate of healing, you should theoretically be able to… So much new data to go over.”

  “Well, I like it so far, so let’s go ahead and schedule getting the girls set up for the same service I purchased,” I instructed, and the Kaminoan woman nodded, tapping away at the data pad she carried.

  We made it outside and I squinted briefly at the light. More Force healing helped me adjust quickly and I paused to take everything in as the world was lit up in a riot of colors. It was a sunset like none I had ever seen before, and for just a moment I simply stood still and took it all in.

  The woman paused behind me and I felt her amusement as she quietly asked, “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? I can’t imagine what it must be like, going your whole life not being able to see the true beauty of the world. It would be like seeing in monochrome.”

  “It’s not quite that bad,” I shook my head, before forcing myself onwards.

  Jango and Kal looked up at my approach, while Boba sulked between them. I found them overseeing the girls fighting against a group of twelve clones, currently running and bouncing their way through an indoor obstacle course as they made hit and run attacks against the clones. Nearby, other Mandos had paused in their training of the other clones to watch the show, radiating amusement as the girls slowly worked their way through the clones.

  The armor, which I had seen as white with my normal eyes, was apparently painted like the walls with colors and patterns no one who couldn’t see into the UV spectrum could see. So now, what had before been batches of clones all identical were instead groups neatly organized into squads that were visibly distinct at a glance.

  I frowned, sensing the emotions of the clones fighting my Padawans. They felt… different from those around them. More aggressive. More determined. More everything.

  “You’re back sooner than we expected,” he pointed out, and I nodded. “Your girls have been putting on quite the show.”

  “Good. How did your boy do?”

  Boba flinched and Jango chuckled, reaching down and rubbing the boy’s head. “I’d say he did pretty well, considering they’re yours.”

  “There’s nothing shameful in a loss against a superior foe in a spar. Sparring is for learning, after all. Sometimes, you learn more by losing than winning.”

  Jango chuckled. “That’s what I told him, but you know how kids are.”

  I turned back to the clones as one of them went down to a hit in the head from a lightsaber, acknowledging his loss even as he radiated annoyance. “This batch feels different,” I pointed out, the question unasked but apparent.

  It was Jango who answered. “Null ARCs.” At my raised eyebrow, he elaborated, “Null-class Advanced Recon Commandos.”

  “S’not what they wanted to call ‘em,” Kal grumbled, radiating annoyance and a bit of anger—directed at the Kaminoans, from what I could tell.

  My curiosity got the better of me as I asked, “And that is…?”

  “Defective. Failures. Scrap. Too independent.” Kal spat off to the side.

  “The cloners tried to enhance certain traits between me and Sheeka,” Jango began, and my guide piped in.

  “We needed to know the best way to enhance future generations of clones. Now we know that certain modifications make them incapable of being commanded.”

  Kal snorted. “Maybe by some soft ass who doesn’t know how to handle a real Mandalorian and can’t see the value in an independent operator.”

  The Kaminoan woman nodded. “We were not commissioned to produce independent operators. Our order is for a cohesive army. There is very little use in an army for soldiers who cannot follow orders and who exercise too much free will.”

  “Mm. Understandable,” I mused. “But special forces units exist, and that is typically where those with too much individuality tend to gravitate towards in any military. That, or officers.” Shaking my head, I looked to Jango, “Want to spar?”

  “Me? Oh no. But I know some people who would love to have a match.”

  “Great. That open area work?” I asked, pointing off towards an open field area that was currently not in use.

  “I’ll let them know you’re waiting on them. We’ve got plenty of training blasters they can use for this.”

  I nodded, turning and heading that way, only to pause. “And Jango? Send them all. Don’t pussyfoot around with one or two at a time.”

  Behind me, I heard Kal mutter, “She thinks she’s hot shit. Can she back it up?”

  Jango snorted. “She took out Tor and forty of his best when she was younger than those two.”

  I felt the doubt from the older man. “Thought that was exaggerated.”

  I could practically feel Jango’s smirk. “Why don’t you grab a blaster and find out?”

  The older Mando considered it, before making up his mind. “I think I will.”

  I shook my head as I made my way into the center of the training field, where I began stretching and limbering up. Around me, I felt it as the clones and Mandos all stopped what they were doing and made their way to the field, gathering around the perimeter to watch. I felt my Padawans and the others approach and settle in to watch as well.

  Eventually, several of the Mandos stepped into what had become an impromptu arena. A woman in red and black armor and a blue cape, with long ginger orange-red braids of hair dangling out of her helmet stepped forward a couple of steps ahead of the group. “So, what are the rules—”

  The Mando directly to my five o’clock raised and fired his blaster rifle. I turned, drew, and activated my lightsaber in a single motion—the Force and a formula letting me swat the blaster bolt and send it flying back to ping off the Mando’s helmet with a sound like a gong being struck, throwing his head back and sending him sprawling onto his ass.

  For just a moment, I took in the sight of my lightsaber under my new eyes—radiating color much brighter than it ever had before. Even the blaster bolt I’d caught sight of had looked different. It was highly distracting, and very, very visible. Very bright.

  Something I’m going to have to train myself to get used to.

  Turning around, I drew the other saber and smiled as a collective shiver ran over the group.

  “Next~.”

  “Open fire!” the redhead yelled, snapping up her rifle and firing a blast full auto as she jumped, opening the throttle on her jetpack and gaining altitude. Several others joined her in the air as more opened up with their own weapons from ground level. I laughed, dodging and weaving between blaster bolts, occasionally swatting bolts back at someone here and there.

  A passive signal detection formula picked up encrypted chatter between them, most of it originating from the redhead. Turning to look up at the Mandos flying above me, I threw up a series of hexagonal shields around me, letting them deflect fire for a moment as I met her eyes.

  “Don’t think being up there gives you an advantage! It just makes you easier targets~!”

  “Yeah, well, you’re down there and we’re up here! And I don’t see a jetpack anywhere—” the woman began to retort, only to fall silent as I rose off the ground. The fire that had been coming in from the ground slacked off as feelings of awe and fear rolled off of the Mandalorians around me as I drew it out, slowly climbing up to their level.

  The redhead’s eyes tracked over to the dragon skull printed pauldron on my shoulder. Quietly, I heard the woman whisper, “I thought Jango was just talking out of his ass…”

  Shaking my head, I dropped my sabers, catching them in the air with the Force at the same time I used it to jerk the rifle from her hands. “Not even close. Now, how about we turn this into a dog fight, hm?”

  Snapping the blaster up, I popped off a short burst into the redhead’s chest before taking off into a climb. To their credit, the Mandalorians gave chase, accelerating after me as we climbed—which was right where I wanted them. I knew the speed and maneuverability limits of their jetpacks by heart, and in the air they might as well be standing still.

  Once they were too high to retreat in a timely manner I abruptly reversed course and fell into the familiar head on prone flight position as I dove at them, firing full auto as I weaved between blaster bolts, my sabers occasionally snapping out to deflect anything that got too close. Blaster bolts rang like gongs as they hit beskar and I used my superior maneuverability to tear their formation apart before blasting through them towards the ground and the targets below, sending shots down to hit the ones who hadn’t followed me up.

  Landing back in the center of the field, I tossed the rifle aside and grabbed my sabers as the Mandos landed around me. They were good sports about the whole thing at least, as it seemed that instead of getting angry, most of them were excited. Once again, Mandalorians proved themselves to be an entire culture of combat junkies.

  I’ll enjoy it while it lasts. It’s not like I get many people volunteering for this sort of treatment, and then coming back for more.

  Then, I didn’t have time to think as they opened fire again and my world narrowed down to moving between shots, closing the distance between me and the nearest ‘enemy,’ striking them down, and moving on to the next.

  RR's system is algorithm based and all of those things impact the ranking.

  Thanks for your support.

  I believe a system that encourages a culture of potentially blindly advertising stories you may not have read yourself in order to gain advertising using someone else's audience is disingenuous, so I refuse to engage with it.

  It also annoys a bunch of people to see a story do this well without resorting to it, which just warms my heart.