A Young Girl’s War Between the Stars

  77

  Hyperspace, in transit to Chandrila. 36 BBY/964 GSC.

  I yawned, stretching in place and feeling my back pop. [Edit]

  Unfortunately, nature was harder to ignore and the pressure in my bladder was insistent.

  Opening my eyes, [edit] in the low intensity UV light shining from the small bulbs I’d installed in the corners of the room and set on a timer and motion sensor—allowing me to see the room in relatively dim light but any intruder would be completely in the dark.

  [Edit], I eased myself out of bed and pulled a clean robe out of my closet and over to me with the Force, slipping my arms into it and tying it off around my waist as I padded silently over to the attached restroom and went about relieving myself and going through a quick sonic shower and brushed my teeth. Once I was finished and dressed in my Jedi robes, I turned the lights on low and took a seat at my desk. [Edit] I wondered what to do next.

  There were things I needed to do that I had put off last night, but which couldn’t be delayed any further. I needed to make a pre-recorded message and send it off to Masters Yoda and Windu to report on the incident last night. Then, I should call Sheev and sow confusion in the enemy’s midst. I should probably also send a copy to Master Dooku so he wasn’t caught flat footed.

  [Edit]

  When everything was said and done, I hadn’t hated it [edit: the events of the previous night and being forced into a dress] as much as I’d thought I would. It was still a bit awkward, but it hadn’t been terrible. I would be able to attend similar events in the future without stressing out over it, at any rate.

  [Edit]

  I took a moment to relax fully before turning to the holocom and activating it, setting it to record a message.

  “Jedi Knight Tanya Mereel for Masters Yoda and Windu, reporting on the events of…” I read off the date from last night, then went into an after action report of what had happened. From learning of potential Force artifacts from Senator Palpatine, to meeting Padme and Mon, skipping through the events of the auction itself, and eventually coming to the meat of the matter.

  “The last lot of the night was the actual reason for my attendance. It was for what I believe to be a dark holocron, that I intended to acquire and return to the Temple.” I brought up the photo of the holocron Palpatine had sent over and displayed it for a moment before switching to my feed. “Given the way events transpired, I was unable to recover the holocron. As for what came next, I’ve attached the helmet camera footage from my guard as evidence. Please review it yourselves. But to summarize: someone used explosives to cut power to the building. Following this, a figure that I hadn’t sensed in the Force up until that moment dropped from the ceiling onto the stage. I couldn’t make out details in the dark, just that they were wearing dark robes, armor, and a rounded helmet. When the figure produced a red lightsaber, I felt an intense surge in the dark side of the Force.”

  I paused, considering my next words carefully—or at least, giving that impression. “Perhaps I jumped to conclusions given the information I’ve already shared with you, but it was my assessment at the time that this individual was a Sith, and I acted upon that assessment by ordering a retreat and covering my charges as we withdrew from the venue and escaped. I do not know for certain what happened next, only that many lives were lost and whoever the attacker was likely collected the holocron. I was unable to confirm one way or another, due to the swift nature of our retreat from Nar Shaddaa and Hutt space and the violent reaction of the local security forces to breaching their cordon.”

  Letting a look of annoyance cross my face, I continued. “Unfortunately, I must report that this mission was a failure. The only consolation I can offer is that Padme Naberrie and Mon Mothma were recovered unharmed. We are currently en route to Chandrila, where we will drop off Mon and rendezvous with a transport from Naboo to transfer Padme. That concludes this report.”

  I shut off the recording and sent the video off to Master Yoda and Master Windu, along with copies to Taria and Master Dooku. With that done, I went to track down my Padawans and our guests, and see about getting breakfast. Once we were done, and I had assigned Allaya and Asajj to give Padme and Mon a demonstration, I headed back to my office to make the call to Senator Palpatine.

  He picked up after a few rings and, judging by his surroundings in the holo feed, I’d caught him in the middle of his own breakfast on Coruscant. The old man smiled, and I put aside the way it made my skin crawl. “Tanya. Good morning. How did the auction go?”

  “You haven’t heard?” I asked, and he frowned.

  “Heard what?”

  “There was an attack.”

  The Sith on the other side of the call blinked, genuine surprise on his face for a moment before he asked, “An attack?” He hummed, before nodding. “Those sorts of things aren’t unheard of in Hutt space. Did you identify the attackers?”

  I shook my head. “I did not, but what I saw was… worrying.” At that, he raised an eyebrow and I elaborated. “There was only one person. A dark side Force user wielding a red lightsaber, wearing robes, armor, and a helmet that obscured their identity.”

  He stared at me in the holo feed for several seconds, before finally asking, “You’re certain?”

  “I felt it myself. I believe they were there for the holocron. I recovered it after a brief struggle for it with the Force and retreated with two young guests. One from Naboo, actually. Padme Naberrie. I met her when we were visiting Naboo.” Lowering my voice slightly, I said, “This is of course something that should stay within the Jedi Order, but I felt that as the one who pointed me towards the auction, you deserved to know. I’m sending you a recording taken from my guard’s helmet camera. I trust you’ll delete it once you’ve seen the contents.”

  “Of course,” the old man nodded, and I tapped at the console and sent the file over. He watched in silence for several moments, his face blank. Unfortunately, the man had an amazing poker face. When he finished, he murmured a quiet, “I see. This news is… quite troubling. Do you believe it was a Sith?”

  I frowned, shifting my head back and forth from left to right for a moment before saying, “I’m not certain. I made that assessment in the heat of the moment, but thinking logically on it now that I’ve had time to sleep on the matter, it could simply have been a Jedi fallen to the dark side, or a member of some Force cult who constructed a lightsaber.”

  “What will you do now?” he asked, and I shrugged.

  “I’ve made my report to the people who matter on the High Council. The matter is above my pay grade. But I would really like to know what was so important that this person attacked a high profile venue to get it. I’m going to review the holocron.”

  The senator nodded. “Probably for the best. Well, unfortunately, time waits for no one. I have appointments with the senate today and really must get a move on. Thank you for informing me.”

  “It’s no problem. If you come across any more information like this, please let me know. Have a good day,” I nodded, and disconnected the call. Leaning back in my chair, I grinned. “Let’s see how you handle that.”

  Mandalore. 36 BBY/964 GSC.

  Quietly, Bo-Katan slipped out of her sister’s bedroom, not quite pulling the door to behind her. Padding through the dark over the carpeted floor, she made her way to the nearest restroom and stepped inside, turning on the water shower to make it harder for the listening devices she knew were in her sister’s home to pick up the conversation that was to come.

  Activating the personal holocom she’d stolen from her sleeping sister’s room, she dialed a number from memory and waited, only to frown as she was immediately met with an ‘out of service’ message. So, she tried another. And another. Half a dozen numbers she had memorized, all disconnected, before one finally picked up—video from Bo’s side, audio only from the other side.

  There was silence for a moment, before a woman spoke—someone she didn’t have a name for, just a contact number. Someone who could get in touch with other Death Watch cells if something happened. “Bo-Katan. You know they’re calling you a traitor, now? They say you killed your squad and fucked off back to Mandalore to live it up with your sister.”

  “My squad was killed and I was kidnapped. It was her. The Jedi. I’m a prisoner,” she hissed, sitting down and leaning against the door to the restroom.

  “Uh huh. Right.” There was a pause, then, “Say I believe you. What do you want? You’re compromised. I shouldn’t even be talking to you.”

  “I know how to fix everything. How to unite the clans under Death Watch, permanently. Legitimately.”

  The line was silent for a few moments before the woman on the other side said, “I’m listening.”

  “The Jedi girl reclaimed the Darksaber. She also went out and found the fucking Mask of Mandalore. She has both. Tanya Mereel is the Mandalore—she has the most valid claim anyone’s had to the title in three thousand years.”

  There was a quiet, “Holy shit,” from the other end of the line and Bo nodded.

  “But she’s young and full of herself. Dangerous, yes, but she’s underestimating us. She’s been cooking up a plan with Satine and that pretender Mereel. It’s why they’re building out in the desert near Sundari. They’re building a stadium. She’s got her people making calls to every Mando clan and clanless they can, recalling them to Mandalore, where she’ll make the announcement. Then, she’s going to accept all challengers. No holds barred, winner take all. Whoever wins takes the mask, the Darksaber, and the title of Mand’alor. This is our chance.”

  “I, I don’t…” Bo heard hesitation in the other woman’s voice. “Mereel may be a coward, but he’s still a Mandalorian. If he adopted her, the Jedi is a Mandalorian. And if she’s got both of those, she is the Mand’alor by right. By tradition! She’s a Jedi and a Mandalorian. She proved herself when she killed Tor and his people and claimed the Darksaber the first time. Everything my contacts can dig up about her say she’s the biggest driving force behind your sister prepping for war with the Trade Federation, Republic, or both so it’s obvious she’s spoiling for a fight. She’s exactly the sort of Mandalore we’ve been saying we want—the reason Death Watch formed in the first place. We shouldn’t be fighting her, we should be celebrating! We—”

  This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

  “If you want to bend the knee, I won’t stop you. I don’t even blame you. You’re right, it’s tradition. But at least put me in touch with someone who wants to actually do something,” Bo demanded. “Because it’s tradition that anyone can challenge the Mand’alor to combat and claim the title for themselves if they win. That’s why this is the perfect time for us to act. Right out in the open! They called us traitors and zealots, but if we beat her, it completely legitimizes us. We win in a single battle what we’ve been failing to accomplish for decades. And they’re recalling all Mandalorians under a flag of truce. The offer is open even to us. If we come in peace, as long as we act during the challenge, no one can complain if we win.”

  Pausing, Bo looked away before saying, “And while I don’t support it, we should use the full diversity of tactics. It’s still a legitimate win if we force her to surrender by some other means. …Any means necessary.” Taking a breath, she quietly added, “She brought her students with her.”

  “…I can’t and won’t support that. Not when we’ve finally got someone in charge who we can respect!” The woman made a frustrated sound, before sighing. “Fine. I’ll spread the word. If the others want to try something, they can. I’m coming home.”

  The call disconnected and Bo sighed, slumping where she sat as a small smile pulled at her lips. It was good to know that there were those who would come to their senses and leave Death Watch once they learned the truth. As much as she disliked many of the people in the organization since Tor had been killed and the people who had been friends and comrades turned their backs on her and started treating her like a coward, she didn’t want them die pointlessly.

  Mandalore needed to be united. She had always believed that, the disagreement with her sister had only been about how it should happen, under whose leadership, and what to do after.

  Tor had been everything a younger Bo wanted in a leader. Handsome, charismatic, strong, a badass with a reputation that made him dangerous, willing to do what needed to be done. That her father and sister hated him just made him more attractive.

  And if she was being honest with herself, that was a big part of it. Tor was a bad boy and got younger Bo’s motor running.

  Looking back on it years later, she could acknowledge that maybe she had ignored some of his worst traits and the bad things going on around him, that he tried to keep her away from, because she didn’t want to see it. Didn’t want to admit that at the end of the day, he was no better than a pirate. Because it would mean admitting that the ‘return to glory’ he was preaching was little more than organized piracy—an entire nation of beskar armored pirates looting and pillaging as a scourge across the galaxy.

  Now, here they were years later and everything had been turned on its head.

  Jaster Mereel, the man Tor had labeled a pretender and a coward, was the current Mandalore. He may not be a young man full of fiery passion, but he had the experience and wisdom to lead their people. Jaster wasn’t a coward, he had the sort of cunning that came with old age and treachery. He knew how to pick his battles and how best to approach them to increase their chances of victory and survival.

  Satine, the sister Bo thought was little more than a spoiled brat scared to get her hands dirty and too weak willed to fight, had convinced the civilian population of Mandalore—the builders, tradesmen, and people who kept the planet running—to elect her as their voice. She was actively preparing for war. And not preparing to fight a defensive war. After they finally got some time to talk away from prying eyes and people listening in, Satine had explained that she had come around to the idea that the best way to protect their people and ensure peace was to end the coming war as quickly as possible—to hurt the enemy so badly that they would be too afraid of a repeat to ever attack them again. A doctrine of ‘peace through superior firepower.’

  Finally, there was the monster who had haunted her nightmares for years. The child who had killed most of Bo’s comrades and maimed those she had left alive. Who had killed Bo’s hero—taken his head, and with it his sword and his claim to the throne. Tanya, who in the years since Bo had last seen her, had grown up—no longer the scrawny child Bo remembered, but a [edit] woman… who was even more dangerous than Bo remembered. She was everything Tor had claimed to be, but failed to live up to. She had claimed the Darksaber in a trial by combat and the Mask of Mandalore by defeating the traps left behind by its last owner to protect it, so her claim to the title of Mand’alor was indisputable. She very clearly enjoyed combat, but not to the point that it was self-destructive—and everything she had seen and heard from Tanya herself said that was how she intended to lead as Mandalore.

  And here was Bo. Working alongside her sister and Jaster Mereel, to earn her place under the first True Mandalore they’d had in thousands of years. A woman who both terrified and [edit] her. Selling out her former comrades, because with Tanya as Mandalore, there was no longer a need for Death Watch to exist. In order to have a united Mandalorian people, Death Watch couldn’t continue to exist. Their options were join or die at this point.

  Then, once the remnants of Death Watch were taken care of, they would go to war. Perhaps not immediately, but soon enough. The Republic would come for them and the Mandalorians would be ready.

  Breathing out a quiet sigh, Bo pushed herself to her feet. She paused in front of the mirror, taking in the woman looking back at her. The shadows under her eyes were starting to fade. Her cheeks were no longer quite so sunken. Her hair was starting to look healthy again. She didn’t look half starved and sleep deprived, haunted by regrets and nightmares. She felt good—better than she had since the day Tanya killed Tor.

  Still, she had a lot to make up for. She had betrayed her people. Her clan. Her family. All to chase after a lie that would have gotten them all killed if Tor succeeded.

  It would take time to undo the damage she had done. To mend the rift between her and Satine. But she had a path forward now. A means of making things right.

  “This is the way.”

  Jedha. 36 BBY/964 GSC.

  The room fell silent as the video ended. A moment later, Mace reached out to the computer and rewound the footage, stopping when it reached the moment the unknown figure ignited its lightsaber. It was the best image they had of the culprit.

  Comparing it to human norm, it was average height for a man or a bit tall for a woman. The build was hard to make out with the armor and the way the robes moved, but going frame by frame he eventually decided it was most likely a female by the way she walked. The rounded helmet obscured their race. It could be just about any humanoid species under that thing—sure, it may be uncomfortable for a togruta or a twi’lek, but those head tails and montrals were more flexible than most people thought and could squeeze into a space that small with some effort.

  She? wielded her lightsaber left handed and, in the few movements the helmet camera caught, Mace could tell she wasn’t using any particular style as she swiped her red lightsaber through the announcer’s neck, then took a short few steps and did the same to the hutt on its unpowered floating bed. Then she started deflecting blaster bolts—reacting… lazily, almost. Bored, even. As if the effort were beneath her, or she was so far beyond it that she only did it because she wanted to cause chaos by turning the guards’ own weapons against them.

  Despite that, her movements weren’t those of an untrained neophyte, or some novice. It was only the most basic of the basics, but they were smooth and practiced. Economical in motion. Whoever this was, they knew what they were doing, and they were very good at it. It was very… workmanlike. Practiced and well worn, but with getting the job done in mind—no frills, nothing wasted. The more he watched it, the more it annoyed him. It felt like a slap in the face. Like a challenge. ‘Look what I can do with so little.’

  Or perhaps he was reading too much into it. Seeing something where there was nothing.

  Or it could be an impression in the Force, he mused.

  Turning to Grandmaster Yoda, Mace raised an eyebrow. “What do you think?”

  Yoda frowned, fingers laced over the end of his cane as he studied the image on the screen. “Troubling, this is. Move openly, the Sith do now. Begun, a new war has, between light and dark.”

  Mace nodded. “If Palpatine is the Master, do you think this is the Apprentice?”

  “Know for sure Senator Palpatine is the Master, we do not. Only suspect. Only one Sith have we seen for ourselves,” Yoda pointed out, nodding to the video.

  Sending the older Grandmaster a doubtful look, Mace said, “Her report on what Palpatine showed her was pretty damning. If he’s not a Sith himself, then he’s a Sith cultist or worshiper. Either way, something we need to deal with.”

  “Not yet,” Yoda shook his head. “Investigate, we shall. We must. But carefully must we tread, if a senator we are to accuse. Evidence must we have. Undeniable. Not merely an accusation.”

  Mace didn’t like it, but the old Grandmaster had a point. The blowback if they jumped on this and were wrong… It would cause a stir among the other senators, who would have more ammunition to question not just the need for the Jedi but their effectiveness and whether or not they were even fit for duty in their role within the Republic.

  “Fine. That does bring up another point.” Crossing his arms over his chest, he asked, “Can we trust it? Can we trust her? Knowing what we’ve learned about Dooku and his secession.”

  “Mm.” Master Yoda hummed, reaching up and stroking his beard. “Chafe under the rules of the order, Tanya does. Too independent. Too headstrong.”

  “That describes Dooku and his entire line,” Mace shook his head.

  Yoda was silent for a few moments as he thought it over, before finally coming to a decision. “Her heart is in the right place, I believe. Shows that she still considers herself a part of the Order, this does,” he nodded towards the screen. “Capable of seeing the greater threat, she is.”

  “How should we handle it? The council has a right to know,” Mace pointed out, and Yoda nodded.

  “Yes. Inform them, we will. An emergency session, we will call. However, keep it quiet we must. Should word get out…” he trailed off and Mace sighed.

  “I think it’s too late for that. This was at a public venue. In Hutt space, yes, but word will get back. You know as well as I do that half the senate attend questionably legal events just like this. I’d be willing to bet many of them were there that night. We should get out ahead of this. It’s going to look bad for us no matter what. Better that we’re seen to be doing something and we be the ones to break the news to the senate, if it hasn’t already broken to the majority of them.”

  For a moment, the Grandmaster closed his eyes, sagging where he sat. He sighed, before nodding. “Right, you are. Hide this, we cannot. Very well. Discuss this with the High Council we shall, then address the senate tomorrow.”

  Yoda stood and Mace followed as they left the room, heading for the High Council chambers.

  Taria shut off the feed from the meeting room and leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest as she considered what she had seen and heard. The message Tanya had sent, and the reactions of Masters Yoda and Windu.

  Video footage could be faked, manipulated, deleted, or otherwise tampered with. As a Shadow, she knew that all too well. It was one of her favorite tricks, in fact. In a universe that primarily relied upon digital evidence, seeing video was no longer believing.

  Reaching out, she tapped at her computer’s keyboard and brought up the news from Nar Shaddaa. The exact details of the events were being kept quiet, but as near as she could tell, something had taken place at an auction organized by one of the hutts and several people had been murdered, including the organizer and many of the security forces present. That much at least stood up to scrutiny.

  A few more taps and clicks gave her access to the backdoors installed in several of the senators’ email accounts. A quick perusal there showed that at least four senators had been to the event, seen someone with a lightsaber attack them, and had escaped with their lives—while several other attending senators had died.

  Coincidence? she wondered, mulling it over. It was possible that whoever the attacker was, be they Sith or something else, had recognized several senators and killed them. It was just as likely that it had just been bad luck—after all, they weren’t the only ones who had died.

  Most of the deaths were among the security forces, though. Security forces and senators. She couldn’t get a positive ID on anyone who fit the bill for ‘unarmed non-combatant’ or ‘innocent civilian.’ It was entirely possible that she was missing some information, however—and if she wanted it, she’d need to go to Nar Shaddaa and dig it out of their systems herself, or send someone she trusted to do it.

  The death toll seems a bit low for a Sith. At least, if this was an indiscriminate attack. So, most likely, it’s exactly what Tanya thinks it is—a smash and grab for the holocron, and the senators were… what? Targets of opportunity? Not enough information to make a call one way or another.

  Still, this was good news.

  Well. No. Not actually good. But there was a silver lining. Maybe the Council would finally get off of their asses and start taking the warning about the Sith seriously.

  That is, assuming it isn’t buried under the secession announcement. Ugh. Things are going to get complicated soon. Keep your head down, Tanya. At least until the Trade Federation makes their move. I don’t want to have to fight a friend over something this stupid. The Republic fucked up and everyone knows it, but the old guard are too invested in the Republic to allow it to fail. It would have long before now if it weren’t for the Order subtly holding it together until now.

  …Force, we’re looking at another Schism, aren’t we? Only this time, not light against dark but Yoda’s pro-Republic, versus Dooku’s pro-secession, versus Mundi’s puritans.

  Sighing, she forced herself out of her chair and gathered her things, to go out and do some investigative work. She might just arrive on Coruscant in time to catch the returning senators. Pulling her hood up, she muttered, “Well, I always said I wanted to live in interesting times… I just didn’t mean this interesting.”

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