“Don't be satisfied with stories,
how things have gone with others.
Unfold your own myth.”
Rumi
On hearing what sounded like something breaking, Ten got up to investigate. She found Corissa in the kitchen, tearful, but cleaning up a broken dish. Corissa motioned for her to stay out of the kitchen.
“Would you like some help?” Ten asked.
“No,” Corissa said, minding her mess. She casually wiped her eyes with her sleeves.
Ten was pretty certain she knew why ‘mom’ was tearful, but she didn’t broach the subject. As it was, she had something more pressing and it seemed like it was never going to be a better moment. She scratched an eyebrow.
“Mom, I would like to discuss something with you,” Ten said.
“Now is not a good time,” Corissa snapped.
Ten chewed her lip, pensively. She decided not to back down. “There might not be a better time.”
“Really?” Corissa asked. “Going somewhere?”
“Yeah, actually,” Ten said, mirroring the attitude. “Captain Gregg offered me a navigator’s position on the Sundown for room and board. It’s reasonable for entry level navigator, I can get some experience, and he says, if it works out, he was thinking about getting a second ship and expanding operations, and in that event, I could pilot the Sundown for him.”
Corissa stopped cleaning, but didn’t relinquish the broom. “You’re not leaving,” she said.
“Really? You intend to chain me to my bed? Because I’m pretty sure that’s against the law,” Ten said.
“You’re not sixteen yet and you’re not leaving,” Corissa said flatly.
“No one is going to quibble over a few weeks shy of 16,” Ten said. “Hell, there is early waiver for militia enlistment back home, and given my grades I could be on an officer track.”
“I am quibbling,” Corissa said. “I would like to leave…”
“Not happening. Forget it,” Corissa said.
Ten closed her eyes, and tried again: “I would like to leave on better terms, but I don’t have any qualms leaving you on bad terms if that’s the way it’s going to be.”
“You ungrateful little wretch,” Corissa said.
Ten clenched a fist, fought back tears. “I sense that you’re angry, and I suspect it’s not about me, but I will not be emotionally manipulated in to staying with you. Your choices are: you can let me go and trust that you have taught me well enough to survive out there, trusting I might choose to come back, or I can break your hold on me and fly and never return. Either way, I’m gone.”
Ten went to her room and shut the door. Corissa slammed the broom stick down on the table in anger. The tip broke, flew back and hit her dead center of the forehead. She nearly fell. She held her head for a moment and then left her apartment. She walked with no purpose, other than to avoid people. It wasn’t too difficult. Fellow pedestrians clearly saw she was in mood and decided to let her be. Even those who hadn’t been paying attention felt an uneasiness when she entered within a certain radius of them, causing them to look up and take inventory of their surroundings. Her walk took her up to the spaceport. She was pulled out of her concentration by the site of a Humming Bird. It was painted on the side of a ship, just under a foreign script that spelled out the ship’s name. Two things stood out about the bird. She first recognize the specific artistic work as denoting this bird’s relevance as a totem, usually the top of a spiritual hierarchy, but most likely a spirit guide, a hint of rainbow edged wings. It reminded her of the bird who had brought her to Ten just in time to rescue her from being killed.
Corissa went up to the foreman. “Where are you going with this?”
“G told us to put it in the Dragon’s Tooth spot,” the foreman said. “The OneSong!” Corissa said.
“Yes, Mam. You can read that Trio-script?” the Foreman said. “Put it back on Pad 2,” Corissa said.
“But…”
“Do it. It’s direct order,” Corissa said.
“And then get some techs and astromechs up here. I want every centimeter of this ship scrutinized for flaws.”
“Yes, Mam,” the foreman said, and turned to his men to put the ship back on Pad 2.
She watched as the men put the ship back on the pad, watched them disconnect the tow gear, listened to a radio asking what the problem was and the explanation, and then walked around the ship. She found tears in her eyes as she examined it, drawing on her years of experience, anticipating problems, but realized she was too emotionally compromised to really be studying the ship. A crew rolled up and began unpacking gear and tools. She sat down on the skiff, watching the techs and R2 units going about their business. She had to wipe the tears from her face hours ago, but eventually she rediscovered her voice and paged Jordeen.
Jordeen answered. “Corissa?”
“Would you do me a favor?”
“You know I will,” Jordeen said.
“Would you find a pretense to bring Ten up to the spaceport, to Pad 2. Don’t tell her I’m involved, but make it happen. I think I am going to give her an early birthday present.”
An hour later, Jordeen and Ten sauntered up. Ten looked the other way, crossing her arms, suspecting Jordeen had tricked her.
“Would you look at me?” Corissa asked. Ten met her eyes defiantly.
“In addition to not wanting you to leave early,” Corissa said. “Was that I didn’t want you to leave without your birthday present.”
“I don’t want anything from you,” Ten said.
Corissa nodded. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I was wrong. And you were right about a lot of things. Especially about the fact it wasn’t about you.”
“I accept your apology,” Ten said, but her voice still had an edge. “Would you like to see your present?” Corissa asked.
Ten gave such a subtle shrug it might have been missed by anyone who didn’t know her.
Corissa gave a slight smile. Time passed, but no one spoke or moved. “Okay,” Ten said.
“What did you get me?”
“You don’t see it?” Corissa asked.
“See what? Is this a G lesson? The clouds? The sky?” Ten asked.
“Neither the clouds nor the sky’s the limit with this gift,” Corissa said. She nodded towards the ship.
“The Droid? I already have Pink,” Ten said.
“You can be so obtuse sometimes,” Corissa complained.
“Well, there’s nothing else here but this ship,” Ten complained. Her jaw dropped. “The ship?! You’re fucking with me!”
“Language!” Corissa and Jordeen both said.
“No fucking way! The ship? You bought me a ship?!” Ten said.
“Technically, I vetoed the ship,” Corissa said.
“But I was led to believe that giving you wings was the best thing for your personal growth.”
Corissa suddenly found herself being embraced, and then just as suddenly dropped as Ten ran up the aft cargo ramp. On hearing her scream, both Jordeen and Corissa ran up the ramp, only to discover Ten had almost ‘peed’ herself from being overjoyed at the paint scheme; the interior was predominantly pink, black, and gold.
G woke to Freya’s gentle touch. He woke easy. She was standing over him. His dreams were fading as he quietly orientated, remembering where he was.
“You said wake you when we’ve arrived. We’re here,” Freya said.
G acknowledged her, shut his eyes for a few more moments, and then got up. He found his way to the flight deck and viewed out the main port. The planet of Kemari was a tiny, bluish green planet, speckled with land in the form of islands. Its minerals were so diffused that the only planetary value came from the biomass, but even that wasn’t considered valuable enough by Galactic Standards to warrant industry, colonies, or traffic. Bio Enc had charted it, labeled it worthless, and offered its coordinates to all its competitors, inviting them to have had it, which had the intended effect of creating a ‘quarantine through disinterest,’ leaving BioEnc the option to return at a later date should they change their mind.
Flying the Dragon’s Tooth was not like flying the Tie Fighters he had owned. Its controls were smooth, fluid, and operated with an ease, whereas the Ties felt more like a workout, fighting the stick. Even as it descended deeper into the atmosphere, the change from space travel to aerodynamics was hardly noticed. The ground filled the entire view port until he leveled out over the Great Marshes of the Kemarian Territories. He knew he had arrived when he came upon a stone ziggurat rising out of the marsh, the product of Jedi Mason going back to a time even before BioEnc, even before the Clone Wars. No one knew what the Jedi had been doing here, and if the Jedi from the Clone Wars knew, they took that secret with them. The flat top pyramid was a solid piece of white marble. He wasn’t even impressed. As a Jedi and a stone mason, he had created much more complicated items. He landed on the ziggurat and powered down the system.
“Freya, I would like you to stay on board, please,” G said, as he got up and headed aft.
“I would like to point out that as your body guard, I am supposed to go with you,” Freya said.
“And I would like to point out, I don’t want to have to go fishing you out of the Marsh, or have to clean you out afterwards,” G said.
“I concede the point and will remain on board till you return,” Freya offered.
Outside the ship, the air was humid, thick, and full of bugs. Though the bugs didn’t like him, in general, some of them still tried a bite to determine if he was eatable. The ones that survived without getting squashed didn’t make a second pass. Using the Force, he pushed a light field around him that repelled the flying kind. He descended the stone staircase to the marsh itself. Red eyes peered up out of the water at him. Marble slabs led away from the ziggurat, and he followed where they led, a cropping of water based trees. In the shade of the trees, G sat down on the last slab, “criss cross applesauce,” or “sitting tailor fashion,” or “Indian style,” were just some of the ways to describe it, but for him, it was just the simple “mystic pose.” The leaves of the tree dropped fresh water, which was interesting, because the Marsh was salt water. The fruit of the tree was uneatable by humans; it would be like biting into a salt lick.
“Alight, Master Windu, per your request, I have arrived, and will await further guidance,” G said out loud. If he felt alone, it was because there was a stark absence of either his spirit guides or their opposites, but not a lack of the Force. The prying eyes remained, staring up at him from the water. One of the things he had discovered about the Force was that it felt different when filtered through the lens of alien life forms. The untrained would noticed the difference and call it evil, where he simply made the distinction of ‘different.’
He closed his eyes. His palms up, hands resting on his legs. A Jawa sized Anura emerged from the water, its motion exaggeratedly slow, as if daring not to be seen even in plain sight. Its eyes were bulbous red orbs, with wire-y yellow slits. It’s greasy, slick skin was various shades of green, with blue etchings on the upper legs and arms. The feet were orange, tapering off to red toes. The toes were tiny balloons that could grasp by sticky secretions and suction. It stared at the human, tilting its head. The human didn’t move. The Anura pressed forwards, reaching out a long, alien thin arm towards the slab where on the human set. Still the human sat. It proceeded forwards until it was sitting in the humans lap, its hands on the human’s shoulders, and its eyes at eye level with the human. Had G opened his eyes, he might have been seriously startled.
The Anura closed its eyes and made contact via the Force.
In a world created by two mind in shared meditation, G and the Anura met. G was submerged in water up to his neck, unsurprisingly naked. The Anura was holding onto him, like a lover bobbing in a pool with her mate. The water was warm and pleasant. There were others in the water, submerged just below the surface, but other than their bodies pressing up against the two entwined beings, they made no effort to interrupt the proceeding ritual. They merely felt or groped or tasted and allowed other more curious to brave closer scrutiny.
“Why are you here, human?” she asked. He voice was pleasant, full of resonance from chambers a human might not have, and yet, it was not a voice made with a physical instrument, but a mental variation of one.
“I was advised to seek out a person named the Collector,” G said. Even though he was in the water, he could feel a frothy foam oozing over him, like a sturdy soap lather during a shower.
“I don’t suppose you believe in coincidences, do you?” the Anura asked.
“I am a Jedi,” G said.
The Collector laughed. “You humans and your titles. Is it not enough that you are plagued with the perversion of accumulating physical stuff, you also suffer the need to carry abstract labels? There are sufficient bugs in the air for none to starve, water enough for drinking, birthing, and playing, and yet you light a million worlds on fire and are still not satisfied,” she said. She uncurled her tongue, rolled it across the tip of his chin and tasted his lips. She moved her head in closer and bit at his chin with a toothless mouth, then nuzzled him. “What is it you seek?”
“Do I intuit correctly that you and your kind are non-materialists?” G asked.
“You want to understand how I got the name Collector, as opposed to skipping right to why you’re here?” she asked. She nuzzled his face harder, rubbing her eye on his cheek, spreading her skin’s natural oils across his face, a ritual more substantial than just scent marking. “Like you, I can travel with the mind’s eye. I watch your kind as they hoard trinkets and treasures and trash. I don’t have to house it in a vault to keep track of it.”
G appreciated that. “Perhaps it would be better for you to help me hone my own ‘search and find’ skills,” he offered.
“I will not help you find the evil one,” she said, resolutely. G was stunned.
“Yes, I know why you are here. Windu tried to solicit my help once, and I told him to go jump in a lake,” she answered. “Why would you suppose I would treat you differently?”
“He said I might get further with you,” G said, not understanding what was meant by that.
“Indeed,” she mused. “He was not as accommodating as you are, would never allow himself to be as intimately entangled. He was far too judgmental for my tastes,” she said, pausing to savor a moment, but was not forthcoming as to whether it was an internal memory, or the sensations of the moment. “And it’s why he always left unsatisfied. Of course, in his defense, when he was here last I was in a male phase of being, and he had a fear of homophobic interaction, or more likely, what that said about him. Labels!”
G realized what the oils and frothing suds clinging to his body were. She tightened her grip on him. He chose not to resist. “I believe the Emperor knew who his enemy was. I have a portion of an artifact, a crystal embedded with a holographic image of the Emperor’s brain. It’s not the whole cube, but all the information is still encoded on the fragment I possess.” He discovered from the mental feedback that she knew the nature of holograms and he didn’t have to explain further. Still, she probed to discover how he knew about such an artifact and she received in full a mental flashback to where he was being held hostage by a computer simulation of the Emperor. The crystal on which the Emperor’s brain had been recorded had fallen and smashed into a thousand pieces. Most of it had been swept up by Priya’s team, placed in a capsule and shot into the nearby star where it was destroyed. Unbeknownst to his friends who had rescued him from both blood-hunters and his mother, he had saved a descent size piece of the crystal, just in case he ever found another interface pedestal that might allow him to access the Emperor’s mind.
“Ummph, talk about a splinter of the mind’s eye,” she said. “I really wish you hadn’t brought that evil to our planet.”
“The Emperor did evil, but the crystal is just a crystal, nothing more than a picture,” G said.
“It’s more than a picture, but even a mere photograph can elicit all sorts of negative vibrations,” she said, the thought of it making her shiver.
“You seek a holographic interface pedestal. As my friend Yoda once said, ancient technology it is. You won’t find anyone who can service the tech. You definitely won’t find anyone who can modify it so that you might sift the Emperor’s mind like an electronic library. The human mind is not so easily codified and regurgitated. It’s messy, fibrous, sticky, foamy, webby, oozing, gelatinous, unforgiving, and pervasively tainting. Give up this search for evil. Give up the Emperor’s brain. Stay here with us. Be happy. Swim, eat, mate. We are peaceful and very accommodating.”
“You are most definitely a pleasant distraction,” G agreed.
“I like you, too,” she said. She buzzed her lips, let go of his arm long enough to wipe an eye, and then took hold of his arm again, her thin fingers going all the way round. “You already have access to the dead. Why not just go directly to the Emperor.”
“I have access to some dark characters, but the Emperor is beyond my reach,” G said. It wasn’t a complete answer and he could sense the collector was not satisfied.
“You speak to Vader but not the Emperor?” she asked.
“Vader wasn’t all bad,” G said. “Most people aren’t all bad. He was angry, misguided, but all he wanted was order and justice.”
“You really believe that?” she asked.
G shrugged. “If it’s true that we become that which we hate, or fight, then it would seem the only way to redeem both other and self is through expressions of love and forgiveness. I can do both without condoning evil,” he said, exploring a small tangent that tickled the back of his mind. Was the evil he was seeking outside of his frequency range, the same way the Emperor was, or was he blocked by his neutrality? Again, he wondered if he would have to do something evil to find something evil. Or maybe Priya was right, do something extraordinary good. He wasn’t sure he was capable of engaging in true evil; assuming a truly wicked deed required an innocent victim, he was very doubtful. He had no qualms of engaging in criminal acts, per say, as those were generally about defying legal restrictions, but not necessarily moral restrictions. He could see himself acting against an evil agent without mercy, but that would earn him no condemnation, at least not from Jedi perspective, as it was considered their job to act against agents of darkness. Even most law abiding civilians would consider taking out a bad guy an act of goodness. Even his excessive sexual permissiveness and flagrant promiscuity would not earn a title of evil. Promiscuity was a socially defined concept that varied from culture to culture. But even though he was willing to engage in intimacy at the drop of a hat, he would never coerce or force someone against their will. And there it was. He wasn’t the monster he had somehow supposed.
The Collector tract his reasoning and concurred with the outcome. Still, she knew he would not be persuaded to stay with her and her kind, or to stop chasing the darkness. “I can see that you will not be deterred from your quest. You will continue to probe the darkness, trying to tease out how far a person can fall before there is no turning back,” she said with a sigh. “Remember, everyone one’s rock bottom is different, and that term, rock bottom, usually denotes a threshold that few recover from. You will find a working interface pedestal on Axxila. To acquire it, you will have to make a trade. You will have to make a commitment.”
“Could you be less vague?” G asked, light heartedly. He trusted the Force well enough to know he would understand the cryptic response when the time came, but why wait if she would clarify?
“You will know your answers when you are confronted with them,” she said.
“I feel really good,” G said.
“I, too,” the Collector said.
“Are you sure you won’t stay. It feels even better in the water.”
G felt his body convulse. He thought he heard Windu telling him to disengage but he didn’t want to hear. This coupling felt so light and warm and peaceful…
“I get the sense they don’t like what you’re teaching,” the Collector said. “Neither the Jedi nor the Sith like you.”
“Well, perhaps if they hadn’t shrouded all of their teachings in mystery, their philosophies would be more prevalent, and everyone would have access,” G said.
“You do belong with me and my kind,” the Collector said. “Please, stay.”
“Thank you,” G said. “I am grateful for the offer to be at home with your kind. I extend a similar offer to you, but I doubt you would leave this world.”
“I don’t have to leave the world to go with you,” she said.
“Oh, nice,” G said, properly chastised.
“I am the Collector. You are now my pet, where you go, so goes my mind,” she said. “Perhaps when your primate mind is not so occupied, I will visit you in a dream. Till then, go in peace.”
The sound of a splash woke G from his ‘dream’ state and he immediately began the throws of what might have looked like a seizure; his body was just waking up to the realization that he had been in a sustained, full body orgasm, not related to the normal physiological pathways, which explained the spreading and increasing of intensity. It was as if every cell was resonating with joy. The oils from the Collector’s skin, as well as the makeup of the froth, had neural toxins that were absorbed into the human skin, which was the equivalent of a hallucinogenic combined with a date rape drug, and only now that he knew what he was dealing with was he able to start detoxifying his body. He was covered from knee to chest in the frothy white foam, which was as sticky as honey and stuck to his hand and stretched into long weaves, like stretching tar. Sighing, he eased into the water and worked at removing the substance. On entering the water, he was immediately molested by a thousand fish that came to eat the frothy foam, literally nibbling him clean, and erotic in its own way, only the sensuality of it was enhanced due to the high level of toxins still in his blood stream. He emerged from the water, the foam gone, but he was still feeling a bit sticky. It had seeped into and through his clothes. The light from the setting sun stretched into beams on either side of him, and he imagined he was using them as guide rails to keep from stumbling. He heard a chorus of both wild and sentient creatures, literally saw the tones rising like bubbles from the marsh. The bubbles popped releasing deeper musical phrases that were difficult to follow because there was just so many, meshing and over lapping, but not like a cannon. The falling tones hit the water, sending ripples, another level of music that played out visibly.
Freya had noticed G was acting odd and went to his aid. He stared at her, testing the air around her as if she had an aura he had never noticed before.
“I didn’t realize you were so bright,” he told her.
“Let’s get you on the ship. I’ll run a blood scan and find an antidote,” Freya said.
“Oh, no, that won’t be necessary,” G said.
Frey got him to the top of the ziggurat and he paused, the sun now gone, and the last embers of light trailing it, stretching orange-ish reds into deep indigo that surrendered to black. The Galaxy loomed over head, reaching from horizon to horizon, but as he followed it, he was suddenly not able to discern ground from sky, because of bioluminescent plants, fish, and the flying insects faded into and out of existence, which was only heightened by his present synesthesia. Sounds made lights, and the lights made sounds. The stars were singing, laughing.
“Are you alright?” Freya asked.
Freya’s voice sent shivers down his spine and out to his fingertips, pure ecstasy. He touched her face. He kissed her.
“I don’t think now is a good time,” Freya said. “Shhh,” G said. “Whisper, whisper…”
He drew her down to the stone floor, snuggling into her, holding her hand.
“It’s all one,” G said.
“I don’t understand how I keep forgetting this lesson. It’s all one. One.”
“G?” Freya said.
“Gently, keep saying that,” G said. He closed his eyes and went to sleep in her arms.
Summoned to the bridge, Priya gazed down over the activity of her men, drawn to the most exciting thing happening in their world. The Officer on Deck approached her to confirm what she was now taking in.
“We’re picking up a steady signal in sector 12,” Ashan informed her. “There was the hint of preceding signal…”
“A Star Destroyer is jamming the area to prevent someone from calling for help,” Priya said, summarizing for her officer. “Take us to full alert, man all Tie Fighters and have them ready for launch as soon as we arrive. Helm, take us there.”
Ashan turned and started shouting out orders and the crew came to life like a hive struck by a stone pitched by a child. Priya walked forwards, an inner calm that reflected her knowledge that this is where she and her crew would take the first steps towards earning redemption for themselves, and knowing, nothing short of their death would ever truly bring reparation.
Everyone on her ship was committed to this goal, which made them a more determined force than when they served before the change. Ashan returned to her side, along with another officer, a Captain Terret.
“The Tie’s will be ready for launch on arrival. All batteries are up and available,” Ashan said. “Shields will go up as soon as we drop from light speed.”
“We’re aiming to drop out of hyperspace right next to the source of the signal,” Terret said. “Based on the intensity of the signal, we suspect only one Star Destroyer at this time, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t others.”
Priya nodded, not feeling the need to express her hope if that if there are more than one that they be flying standard formation and so that she might ‘thread a needle’ with the Deterrent.
An officer below began a countdown to dropping back into normal space. He was saying it into his mic, but Priya could hear him from where she stood. She again was touched by this strange new confident in herself, and in her crew, as if they were truly prepared to die for a cause, as opposed to before, when they only fought with ferocity out of fear: consume or be consumed. The Deterrent dropped into normal space. The Star Destroyer broadcasting the jamming frequency loomed ahead of them. Barely visible in the distance was a Frigate that was being bombarded. Tie Fighters and B-wing fighters made their presence known while firing or turning the engines towards the Deterrent. In addition to ‘lights of wars,’ there was a growing debris field that sometimes sparked or reflected light as it tumbled and collided and grew.
“Launch fighters, protect that frigate!” Priya stated in command voice. “All batteries, open up on that Star Destroyer. Focus all initial fire on its hypdrives. I don’t want it leaving here. Also, jam all frequencies. I don’t want hear a peep in this sector until that Destroyer is out.”
Priya’s orders were executed without question. She was jamming the frequencies for the same reason the enemy Destroyer was jamming the frequencies; she didn’t want them calling for help. Their presence on the scene did change the battle, but in an unanticipated way.
“Admiral,” Terret said.
“An analysis suggests they were trying to capture the frigate.”
“And now they’re going to destroy it,” Priya said. “Continue engagement, but put us between them and that frigate!”
“Tie Bombers are now engaging the Frigate,” Terret said. “Their Ties are turning back towards us.”
Ashan was leaning down to hear a firsthand report. He stood and turned to Priya. “Admiral, a group of B wings have broken off their attack runs on the Star Destroyer and appear to be escorting a shuttle. Trajectory suggests they are coming towards us.”
“Open port landing pay, and make it clear they’re welcome,” Priya said. “Port batteries, take out all enemy Ties chasing that shuttle.”
A huge ball of plasma marked the end of the frigate. The enemy Ties and bombers began a bee line for the Deterrent. The B wings not on escort duties continued to focus on the enemy star destroyer, leaving the enemy Ties to the Deterrent’s Ties. In fact, if it weren’t for the B- Wing’s attacking the enemy Destroyer’s forward cannons, the shuttle probably wouldn’t have made it to the Deterrent. As it was, it took a hit and crashed into the deck and slid across the floor to the back of the hangar. Even with the suppressing fire, not one of the escorting B-wing ships survived the run.
When the last enemy Tie was destroyed, the enemy Star Destroyer raised the equivalent of a white flag. Terret and Ashan looked to her for instructions.
“No quarter. Finish them off,” Priya said. “And when that’s done, make sure we police the debris field. I want to avoid leaving evidence we were here if we can.”
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