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“The Time Between”
They left Kashyyyk two days ago. The plan was to stop at Ord Mantell in two days (no relation to the three other Ords with similar names in the Core) for refuel and resupply, then off to Manaan; a ten day trip from the Ord, should there be no complications.
There is always a threat closing in. You are always being watched, being followed. You think what happened on Kashyyyk won’t reach the ears of the Sith?
Check the sensors. Breathe. Remind herself again that there wasn’t a way to be tracked in hyperspace.
Long days of travel between planets – at best a few days and at worst, several weeks – give the crew a welcome respite from the constant battles, and ever-present fear. So far, she kept them all alive and kept the quest to find the Star Forge going.
And how long can you maintain this? Sooner or later, a price will be paid, and which of them will pay it?
She pushed the thought from her mind and told herself she had done enough checking for now, but was someone singing?
She followed the sound to the garage. Canderous wasn’t paying attention to much other than the collection of scrap and parts in front of him, singing a rude drinking song as he arranged the scraps and components by size on the shelf.
Buy'ce gal, buy'ce tal
Verbor'ad ures aliit
Climbing up the workbench, push one pile on the shelf aside.
Mhi draar baat'i meg'parjii'se
Kote lo'shebs'ul narit.
Climb back down, grab another piece of junk metal, start another round of the song. At the rate he was going, it would probably be another ten repetitions.
Back in the Shadowlands, Canderous had marked them all with the blood of their enemies, and ritually adopted them. The memory of it all was still a little surreal. A great honor to be sure, at least in the context of his culture. One more reminder to try and live up to the image they all had of her as a leader, even if she still really thought of herself as a protocol aide that was in over her head.
She glanced at the lightsaber on her hip that she usually tried to hide under a long vest or a holster. Correction – she was way in over her head.
Kairi breathed a little sigh of relief. One down, eight more to go.
HK-47 was powered down in a corner and recharging, T3-M4 puttering around the ship with routine maintenance; an adjustment to a sensor position, a little spot weld on a panel that came open. So, the droids were all right. Check them off the list.
Juhani was sitting cross-legged, meditating. About ten centimeters from her nose, she had a spoon taken from the galley hovering in mid air. The spoon was spinning slowly, end over end, like the blade of a very slow turbine. Kairi wasn’t going to interrupt Juhani while she was practicing.
Sooner than you like, you will have to say farewell to them all.
She passed by the medbay where the newest member of the crew, Jolee, was unpacking his small satchel, dusting off an old Jedi robe that he now had hanging up on a bolt that stuck out a hair longer than the others. He spared her a glance and nod as she walked by, then went back to smacking the robe with a brush, coughing and cursing under his breath at the small clouds of dust he released with each strike.
Do not get too close to the old man. Remember, he can’t stay long. None of them can.
Bastila sat in a chair in the common room, stitching a rip in her robes. Another reminder of yet another close call. Kashyyyk hadn’t been easy between the monsters in the Shadowlands, the Mandalorians, the slavers, and even Czerka security. The Wookiees did the bulk of the fighting and too many lives were lost.
That rip along the side was from a vibroblade. A few centimeters to the left and it would have cut into the ribs and lung. We wouldn’t have had enough in a medkit to heal that. She shuddered, vague memories of a man dying too young on doomed ship creeping into her mind. Maybe not even Force healing if it were too deep or too large of a gash. How many narrow escapes can we have before there’s one we can’t?
Up to the dormitory wings. Zaalbar was seated on the floor, stretching out his big, hairy legs and staring up at the ceiling, lost in some kind of daydreaming. He idly tossed a metal ball (probably a discarded bearing) up in the air and caught it. It was easy to forget just how young he was...well, relatively. Back on Kashyyyk, they confirmed from his father that he wasn’t yet eighty, so still a growing adolescent with a decade or two left to fill out.
Did we really aid his planet and his people, or did we merely make them more vulnerable for when Czerka or the Sith return? Kairi wondered. They have their freedom, but will they be able to keep it?
Mission had her Pazaak deck spread out on the bed, playing a solitaire variant.
“Hmmm. Plus five on the left makes it eighteen. Minus five on the right puts it back down to fourteen. Next card is probably a three or a seven.” She curled a head tail in thought. “Yeah, left it is. Eighteen-Nineteen on the player, and the pot gets…” She turned over the card. “And it’s a six. Pot gets twenty-two and busts.”
She straightened up and yawned, having been hunched over for an extended period. Looking up, she smiled and waved at Kairi. Kairi just waved back and gestured for her to carry on with her game.
You are the first person who never wanted something from me, only a friend. You have no idea how strange that felt. She stuffed down the impulse to run over and give Mission a hug. That would be unseemly. The more practice she had at keeping her distance, the easier this would be in saying goodbye, cutting all ties cleanly when the Force demanded it. I couldn’t save your world, but maybe I can help you have a future. You deserve it. You deserve a whole galaxy where you can be successful and happy. I know better than to ask for one where you are safe.
Where hadn’t she checked yet? Oh, the cockpit...
She could just close her eyes and see it. So often, she sat in the copilot’s chair and spent so many hours in quiet observation. It became something she looked forward to.
Carth would be at the controls, making small adjustments. She knew every bit – the way the blue of hyperspace glinted off the gold on his promise ring, the small muscles of his fingers flexing under his pale skin as he turned the control wheel. Maybe scowling a little as he checked a readout or leaning back in his chair and watching the stars streak by.
There was always something going on in his mind as his emotional state was in a constant knot. Sometimes, he would be thinking of something amusing and get the most wonderful little smile on his face...only to have it turn in an instant into something sour-hot with grief, then twist back again to the easy calm of watching hyperspace streak by. Despite the jumble of his thoughts and emotions, Kairi would wait. He would talk when and only when he was ready to do so – not a second before.
As early as their first days on Taris, and even more so as of late, there was another shift to his emotions when he looked at her. The clouds would part around his emotions and it was like tasting sunshine. Just thinking of him made her feel warm and safe. Knowing she could bring him some happiness, no matter how small or fleeting that happiness had to be...
Standing at the door, she raised her hand to knock, as she always did before walking in on him.
And stopped just shy of the first knock.
It was easier before she learned that he had...well, it wasn’t lying. He had considered himself still to be married, even though his wife was dead. She also knew that his feelings and her own were getting significantly more conflicted as time went on. She promised him that she would never want to try to replace Morgana in his heart, and she meant that.
The soldier’s resolve weakens, as does your own. His goal is to avenge his family. Your goal is to destroy the threat to the galaxy. Distracting yourself and him with foolish infatuation will only impede what you must do.
No, she couldn’t go up there.
Jedi do not get close. They love from afar. And sometimes, that meant keeping a door closed.