A Young Girl’s War Between the Stars

  08

  Dathomir, 43 BBY.

  Dathomir was not what I was expecting. Not by a long shot. I had expected some kind of brutal hell world where the inhabitants barely scraped by. Where everything was either poisonous, carnivorous, or both. Instead, what I saw was a fairly standard M-class temperate world—mountainous and covered in jungle, forests, and the occasional desert.

  “Don’t let its beauty deceive you, padawan,” Dooku warned as I began our entry into the atmosphere. “It is quite dangerous, I assure you.”

  “All of the most beautiful things in nature tend to be,” I nodded, concentrating on getting us down in one piece with my own skill, not relying on the Force.

  “Have you decided where you want to begin?”

  Reaching over, I brought up the planetary map with one hand and zoomed in. “The majority of the clans all live within one general location—a stretch of land that follows the track of these rivers—the Frenzied River and Dreaming River. If we start to the west near the Great Canyon, we can head east through the Red Hills, cut south to the Frenzied River, then further south to the Misty Falls, then cut west and head north back to our ship.”

  “Traveling downriver is easier than up,” Dooku pointed out, and I hummed.

  “Reverse it, hike our way up the hills, into the mountains, up to the canyon, then ride the river back down?” When the old man merely smiled, I shrugged and adjusted course. It didn’t particularly matter to me, so long as we got the job done. Yes, master Dooku had given the mission to me to plan and carry out, and had even said he would let me take the lead for much of it, but the truth was that it was so open ended that I had a lot of mission flexibility.

  Spotting a good place to put down in a clearing on a spit of land between a river and a large lake, I eased the ship down and brought us in for a soft landing. Shutting off the ship, I undid my straps and made for my quarters to grab my things. Taking out my communicator, I went ahead and fulfilled my promise to Obi by placing a call. Remembering that it was actually very late on Coruscant, I wasn’t surprised when instead of being greeted by Obi’s image, I was met with an option to record a message.

  “We made it here. Local time is about ten hours behind Coruscant, so it might be difficult to talk. I’m setting this thing to not receive calls to keep from disturbing the local wildlife, so just leave a message. I’ll check in again later.”

  Disconnecting, I pocketed the communicator and made one last check of my bag to make sure I had everything I felt I’d need. Then, I picked up the second, larger bag and slung it into place over the day pack.

  I found Dooku waiting outside, carrying his own backpack. He reached out and hit the ramp control as I stepped off, sealing the hatch behind us. Sending me an amused look, the old man asked, “Where should we go from here, padawan?”

  Looking around, I hummed, considering our options. “According to the records, the nearest clan should be the Singing Mountain clan, to the west,” I pointed towards a series of mountains rising in the distance. “But we’ll need to cross the river to get there. The easiest on foot would be the… Frenzied River clan, to the north.”

  When Dooku merely sent me a patient look, waiting for me to decide and not giving any indication one way or another which he preferred, I turned away and opened myself up to the Force and my empathic sense, listening to everything around me… And immediately winced, looking around as danger radiated from nearly every direction around us.

  Dooku chuckled. “I warned you. Dathomir’s beauty hides its danger.” I let out an annoyed breath and the old man only looked more amused. “It’s confusing, isn’t it? Focus, padawan. Separate vague, nebulous potential danger from more immediate dangers.”

  I considered his words and nodded. “So, treat this whole planet as a Force sensitivity training ground.”

  “If it helps you to think of it that way.”

  Closing my eyes, I did as he suggested, slowly learning to filter out the less immediate dangers, or the ones that felt further away than a mile unless it was above a certain danger threshold. I didn’t need to know about some poison frog or something that could kill me dead five miles away when there was a…

  I cracked open my eyes and looked down. Only a few yards away, a tiny lizard with mottled skin rested on a rock, sunning itself and watching us. The tail, I noticed, seemed to have a stinger at the end. “What is that?”

  “That, my dear padawan, is a Dathomiri rock dragon. Their poison is quite lethal, capable of killing even a fully grown rancor.”

  “So leave the lizards alone,” I murmured.

  “Or,” Dooku spoke up, and I recognized his teaching tone immediately, “convince them to leave you alone. You have not yet learned the mind touch skill. This would be a good opportunity. Alternately, you have talents of your own, do you not? That trait natural to the Zeltrons.”

  Nodding, I moved closer to the rock and crouched down. “Reach out with the Force and the power of your mind. Try to impress upon it your thoughts and desires. Do not take control of it, for that is the way of the dark side. Merely suggest, even if the suggestion is sternly worded and made forcefully. You must not take away its free will or ability to resist.”

  Don’t grab it and pull, just give it a nudge, I interpreted. Reaching out towards the creature with my hand, I extended my will through the Force and felt its mind. It was simple. Small. There was barely any resistance at all. I pushed my will out towards it, urging it to crawl into my hand and not sting me. A moment later, the brown lizard moved, quickly crawling across the rocks and into my palm.

  “That’s a good start. Keep practicing,” Dooku nodded, a smile coming to his face.

  I released the lizard and stood, brushing off my hand. “Being able to convince one animal to approach and ignore its natural instincts doesn’t help much when there are hundreds of them around,” I mused, and the old man simply waited. Seeing he was letting me figure it out myself again, I turned my attention back to the tools I had to work with.

  On the one hand, the Force. The problem was, this planet was lousy with the stuff. To the point that my senses were kind of washed out with it after some distance. It wasn’t quite as concentrated as the two Jedi temples I’d been in, but it was thick enough that I could run a low cost formula or two basically indefinitely if I wanted. Thick enough to mess with perceptions. And then there was the fact that I was still figuring out sorting out the various presences and potential dangers.

  My empathic sense, on the other hand, was much clearer. Simple minds produced simple emotions and those were easy to detect, understand, and filter as needed. The only complex mind nearby was Dooku, who for once wasn’t shielding his mind from me. The old man radiated kindness, patience, understanding, pride, and a bit of amusement. He was enjoying himself. Moreover, he was proud that his student was catching on so quickly, with just a hint here and there.

  It was… awkwardly embarrassing in a way, and yet good in another. It was something I had never experienced before. Even in my first life, my parents were the absentee sort who spent much of their time working, and had certain expectations I needed to meet, and when I did it was almost never met with any sort of praise because those things were expected of me and it quickly became understood that meeting expectations shouldn’t be met with praise—only exceeding expectations should, or would.

  I didn’t like the way reflecting on it made me feel, so I pushed it aside to deal with never. Instead, I focused on the other minds around me. If I was going to clear the path to keep from stepping on something that could kill me with a pinprick, I couldn’t do it one at a time. The best way to do that then would be to make those animals flee from us.

  And what would trigger the flight response better than a little fear?

  Digging into my memories, I focused on one in particular. My first combat encounter as an aerial mage. Being told that I needed to find a way to hold off an entire enemy team of mages by myself so reinforcements could arrive. Effectively being ordered to go die for my country, to buy reinforcements and the artillery below five minutes. The fear. The way it made my heart pound in my chest. The certainty of meaningless death.

  Around us, animals scattered, some screeching or making other sounds as they panicked. Dooku reached out and laid a hand on my shoulder. “It is good to know fear and not give in to it. Perhaps you should narrow your focus a bit, however. We don’t want to arouse the ire of something that will respond to fear by attacking.”

  “Mm.” I dialed it back a bit and the two of us set off walking.

  Unpredictable weather was apparently fairly common on planets high in the Force, unless environmental factors prevented it—such as on Tattoine, a desert planet under two suns, where the weather was miserable desert heat worldwide, broken by the occasional sandstorm. On Dathomir, that meant freak storms. Big, nasty, storms. Torrential rain, high winds, hail, lightning—the works.

  Once more, my Force senses were bombarded by the feeling of danger from all around. From the storm, lightning, wind, hail, limbs breaking and falling, terrain made slick, and more. Dooku had pulled the hood up on his over robe and was using Force telekinesis to keep the worst of it away from him, while I’d pulled on my poncho and had a shield formula going to intercept hail and limbs—the occasional small blue hexagon of the field popping into being and stopping golf ball sized balls of ice that would’ve put dents in my head.

  I almost missed it when formless danger all around became sharp and immediate, and likely would have if not for the fact that I sensed the emotions of something new. A more complex mind, but not enough to call truly sapient. Hungry, angry, violent—but afraid of something. Fleeing.

  It shoved its way through the trees from our right, snuffling loudly from its overgrown nose as two beady black eyes locked onto us. A large mouth opened, exposing big, uneven, sharp teeth as it drooled.

  The creature was at least fifteen feet tall, but was currently hunched into itself a bit with all of the lightning popping around. It was bipedal, with big, clawed four fingered hands and somewhat stubby legs. Its skin was a mottled brown, covered in mud and dirt, and it looked like a mountain of muscle.

  “What is it?” I whispered, not moving as it stood on the edge of the forest, seemingly deciding whether or not to attack.

  “That, padawan, is a rancor. Highly aggressive, territorial, and violent, but just intelligent enough to recognize most sentient life as a threat and stay away, unless provoked,” Dooku answered quietly. “What will you do now?”

  Of course he’s just leaving it to me! I mentally groused, considering the big beast. Alright, let’s try to discourage it.

  Reaching out and narrowing my focus, I projected fear onto the creature. The response I got was like throwing gasoline on a fire as it reacted to fear with anger and roared. “Damn,” I muttered and switched tactics. Instead of an emotional reaction, I tried a mental nudge—well, more of a shove for such a big beast. I projected the idea that we weren’t worth its time and it should leave.

  The touch of the Force and the command only set it off, and the fire I’d stoked with fear became an inferno. The creature reared up and let out a roar that shook my bones. “The hard way it is,” I grumbled, pulling my lightsaber off my belt and igniting it, the silver-white beam hissing and popping in the rain as drops hit and were instantly vaporized. The lightsaber briefly drew its eyes before it charged, heavy steps thumping the ground hard enough for me to feel through my feet.

  I ran away from master Dooku as it got close, inside its reach and at an angle, forcing it to try to turn to follow. The ground, wet with rain, turned to mud under its feet and it slipped as it both tried to turn and reach out for me with one of its giant hands. I rolled out and swiped the saber at its hand, only to be met with resistance. Glancing at the hand, I saw I’d only scored a burn mark across its tough hide. Frowning, I checked the saber and found that yes, it was set to normal operation.

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  “It’s resistant to blaster bolts, heat, and plasma,” Dooku called helpfully from the side. A glance showed he had his own lightsaber in hand but not activated—so he would back me up if he felt I needed it, but was otherwise letting me handle it.

  Resistant doesn’t mean immune. Just need more exposure and somewhere to get a kill shot in.

  Despite being as big as it was, the rancor was surprisingly fast and nimble. It got back to its feet and approached more cautiously this time, even angrier than before but even more determined to make a meal out of me. It was wary of the lightsaber now, but it was still dumb and persistent enough to try.

  Leading with its injured arm, it tried to swat me. I jumped over the massive swing and rushed in close before it could recover. I slid across the mud into a thrust that terminated in the rancor’s knee, going for something that would slow it down. It took a moment, but the force of the thrust and the relative thinness of the skin over the joint compared to elsewhere allowed the saber to punch through and I nearly gagged on the stink of burning flesh, blood, and meat as the rancor howled, jerking away and nearly taking my weapon with it—instead only managing to make its wound worse as it tore open and ruined the joint.

  A hand slammed down where I’d been as I dodged out of the way and leapt backwards, out of reach. The big creature tested its right leg, only to find it wouldn’t support weight. So it used its right arm as a crutch as it began plodding towards me again, murder in its eyes. But it was slowed, and with an arm out of commission, it was harder for it to attack—or defend.

  One childhood spent playing video games against over sized bosses like this had taught me what to look for as likely weaknesses and a second childhood as an aerial mage gave me the actual skill I’d need for what I intended. The math came as second nature to me as I spun up a targeting formula—one of those internal support formulas that didn’t act on the world, but on the user. In this case, it took in external data, such as range to target, elevation, crosswind, and obstructions, and plotted out the perfect shot. It didn’t see much use in close combat and was either used for recon or generally attached to a sniping formula.

  I dropped my lightsaber and the silver tube froze in the air as I caught it with the force. It turned, tilting the silver-white blade towards the rancor’s face as it approached and I waited. When it next put its right hand on the ground, I fired, launching the saber with a force push for its right eye. The rancor didn’t have time to blink before the plasma blade punched through the soft, squishy eye and out the back—into its brain box.

  Catching the saber before the hilt went inside, I wiggled it around a bit as the creature stood there, shaking for a moment—twitching, really. Until all the emotion drained away from it and the danger I’d felt from it in the force dissipated. It collapsed forward with a thump as I pulled the saber back to my hand.

  That’s when I noticed it. Without the rancor’s overwhelming presence blocking out everything nearby, I picked up several more smaller but much… sharper sources of potential danger nearby, and the emotions coming off of them. Most of them were impressed, while one in particular was furious. Looking up at the trees, I spotted several figures among the branches overhead. They were hard to make out in the dark and the storm, but the occasional flash of lightning lit things up well enough to make out that they were human.

  Lightning flashed and the angry one jumped down. I expected a hard landing in the muck the forest floor had become, but no. At the last moment, I felt the Force from her and the woman slowed, before landing lightly enough to not make a sound.

  I should learn how to do that. If you can just slow a fall like that… It has to be some application of Force telekinesis.

  I was pulled from my thoughts as the angry woman leveled a spear at me. Raising an eyebrow, I studied her as I shifted into a defensive stance, raising my lightsaber. I had called her a woman, but that was wrong. A young woman would be more accurate. I guessed her age to be in her early to mid-teens. She had long, dark red hair pulled back under a hooded cloak, some of it peeking out from under the hood. Under the light of my blade, I could make out the red and blue dye of her clothes and leather armor, and the gold and silver accents that her decorations and/or metal armor gave at the shins, biceps, and over the stomach. The spear was a light wood, with a large metal blade attached to the end, making it more like a glaive or poleaxe.

  “That was mine and you killed it, trespasser,” the girl hissed, green eyes glaring at me from under the hood.

  “It attacked us and I defended myself. Sorry if that was your prey—”

  I found myself cut off as the girl radiated fury and spat, “It wasn’t prey! It was to be my mount! And now you’ve interrupted my rite of passage—!”

  “That’s enough, Alaya,” one of the other women called as the rest of the group jumped down, making for six in total. All of them looked to be in their late teens through the twenties, with the oldest perhaps thirty. The one who had spoken wore a more elaborate silver headpiece than the others. The weapons the older ones carried all hummed faintly and I could see some pieces of tech further down from the blade, telling me they were some sort of vibro-weapon. “Calm yourself.”

  “But she—!” Alaya began, only to shut up as the older woman silenced her with a glare. “Yes, hunt leader.”

  The leader nodded and shifted her attention to myself and Dooku. Her eyes flicked from my lit lightsaber to the one Dooku was just now slipping back under his robe. Brown eyes met my blue. “Peace, young one. There is no need for that,” she nodded at the lightsaber. Taking my cue from master Dooku, I shut it off and reattached it to my belt. “Good. Sisters, we have honored guests. Two of you run ahead and inform the clan mother. The rest of you, spread out and make sure nothing disturbs us.”

  The other women obeyed, even if the youngest among them looked annoyed at having to do so. Once they were gone and only the leader was left, she turned away and began walking, carrying her halberd over her shoulder. “Come, Jedi. The Singing Mountain Clan extends its hospitality to you. Let us get in out of the rain.”

  “We thank you for the hospitality,” Dooku nodded, moving up to walk beside her as I trailed along behind. “It has been some time since my order last visited. Can you tell us the current state of affairs among the clans?”

  “I’ll leave that to the clan mother,” the leader shook her head, though there was a hint of amusement in her voice. “She rarely gets guests and it’s rarer still that we get one from off world.” She turned and eyed Dooku up visibly and I raised an eyebrow at the emotions coming off of her—a bit of arousal and, oddly, disappointment. “Rarer still to receive such a fine specimen.”

  Dooku chuckled. “I’m sure an old man like myself is of little interest.”

  “Quite the contrary. That weapon at your side. The way you carry yourself. Your eyes. It all speaks of a seasoned warrior who has stood the test of time. Experience and strength are attractive in their own right. Alas, the clan mother awaits, and while you’ll be gone eventually, I have to live with her.”

  Was I hearing this right? Were my senses playing up? Because it sounded like she was just flat out telling master Dooku she would proposition him, but her ‘clan mother’ had first dibs.

  “Who is the current clan mother for the Singing Mountain?” Dooku asked, neatly sidestepping that entire conversation.

  “That would be Mother Augwynne Djo, who recently won the title. She is young, but wise, competent, and strong. Under her rule, we have begun attempting to deepen relations with the other clans…”

  I had seen the view coming in from the air, but seeing it from the ground, on the mountain, was an entirely different thing. Out below us was a carpet of green, shrouded in fog and rain at the moment. Above us, huge chunks of rock floated through the air, suspended by the Force itself where the Force came together beneath the mountain and rushed out the top, to scatter across the surrounding land.

  The village we had been led to occupied a mostly cleared section of land near the top of the mountain, protected by tall walls of stone and wood. The houses were all wood construction, with a few structures around the perimeter built into trees that had been left—watch posts, from what I could tell. The houses were all lit by the glow of fires inside, most people having apparently decided to turn in given the rain.

  “This way,” our escort waved us towards a large structure that had been carved into the side of the mountain at the back of the village.

  We entered through a wooden door and I almost sighed at the difference in temperature and humidity. Somehow, they had air conditioning—and it worked well, given the condensation on the stone walls.

  Our guide wiped the mud off her boots in the little entryway we had found ourselves in, before removing her boots and continuing deeper. When master Dooku took his off as well, I followed his example and we followed the leader down a thickly carpeted hallway, past rooms on either side, to the rear of the structure.

  Through a draped fur door, we were led to something that looked sort of like an office and a library. Shelf after shelf of books and scrolls filled the room, lit by a warm, yellow orange glow from artificial lighting spaced regularly along the ceiling and in the room’s corners. A stack of data discs and a reader sat on their own shelves, beside what looked like a holo-com table that had been ripped straight out of a ship.

  A human woman with red hair sat at a low table, reading a scroll and sipping at a cup of tea. Like the others, she wore tight fitting cloth clothing, though hers was dyed purple with blue accents and in an actual dress, as opposed to the more mobile pants and tops of the hunters and she lacked the armor they wore. A silver crown adorned her head, six tall and thin spikes on it curving up and back away from her face. As our escort had said, she looked young—perhaps in her mid-twenties at most. She was beautiful by human standards.

  She looked up as we entered, eyes a darker shade of blue than my own studying us, and I felt her reach out with the Force—feeling us out. I slammed my mind shut and the woman raised an eyebrow, a smile pulling at her lips. “Tenel, thank you for bringing our guests. I’ll take care of them from here. Inform the others that our guests are free to come and go as they please.”

  Tenel bowed her head, touching a fist to her chest. “Of course, mother.”

  Our escort left and the redhead stood, giving us a smile as she bowed slightly at the waist. “I am Augwynne Djo, clan mother for the Singing Mountain clan. Be welcome here, guests.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Djo,” Dooku returned the bow with one of his own, at the same angle I noticed. “I am Jedi Master Dooku, of the Jedi Council. This is my apprentice, Tanya.”

  “Ma’am,” I bowed as well and the woman’s smile widened.

  “So serious. She’s cute,” she murmured, before gesturing to a pair of cushions across the table from her. “Please, sit. Join me. Tea?”

  “That would be delightful,” Dooku agreed, quickly taking a seat as I did likewise beside him.

  Augwynne gestured and a pair of cups flew out of a nearby cabinet to the desk as she lifted a steaming pot and began to pour. “Honey?”

  Once our drinks were poured and we’d had a moment to taste them, she leaned forward, studying us intently. “I assume you’re here for the regularly scheduled check in and not to make another attempt on the Chu’unthor?”

  I raised an eyebrow at the unfamiliar word while Dooku nodded. “That is correct. Although, if you cared to make an exception and allow my padawan access, I would be grateful.”

  “Hmm…” the woman across from us considered the proposal and I felt her reaching out for me in the Force again—not my mind this time, but probing my body and the Force around me. Not particularly liking it, I reached out with the Force myself and attempted to swat her attempts away. She laughed, leaning back where she sat. “She’s feisty! I like it!”

  Frowning, I asked, “What is ‘the Chu’unthor?’”

  Shaking his head as he chuckled, Dooku answered, “It is a praxeum ship. It is,” Augwynne sent him a raised eyebrow and he corrected himself, “was an academy ship, built hundreds of years ago for the purpose of housing and training Jedi recruits. The Chu’unthor crash landed here almost three hundred years ago. Master Yoda and a group of other Jedi were sent to rescue those aboard and secure the ship. Unfortunately…”

  “We found it first,” Augwynne grinned. “It’s been a point of contention between our people ever since. Your council believes the Chu’unthor and everything on it is theirs,” she gestured at Dooku, who nodded. “We claim salvage rights. The ship and everything on it is ours.”

  Frowning, I thought back to what master Dooku had told me about the planet before we arrived. “And since the population is largely formed of the descendants of prisoners, exiles, and outcasts—and the Witches of Dathomir especially are descended from a former Jedi—the claim holds more weight than most.” My eyed turned towards the lights and the holo-com table. I thought back to the weapons the hunters all carried. “You’re stripping it for useful parts and using the facilities. Using materials left there to train your people.”

  The redhead’s expression shifted from amusement to confusion as she looked at me in a new light. She looked to Dooku, who merely smiled in response. “Interesting,” she murmured, before her eyes met mine again. “You’re correct. Any technology we can salvage is a valuable resource, due to our lack of infrastructure and preference for the simpler life here. A few improvements here and there, such as better weapons, lights, climate control, and things to aid us in agriculture are welcome, but we don’t want to move much further beyond where we are now as a society. We’re much more in tune with nature, the elements, and the Force here.”

  “And are you still keeping males as slaves, or has your society evolved past that?” Dooku arched an eyebrow and the clan mother winced. Seeing my confusion, he explained, “The tribes of Dathomir are all dominated by their females—a practice which has carried on since the time of their founder.”

  “Because the environment is harsh here and it requires the Force just to survive,” Augwynne glared back over the table. “And no, my clan no longer enslaves males.”

  “No, the culture just encourages them to enslave themselves,” master Dooku’s answer caused Augwynne to sigh. “Do the other clans still kill males who are born Force sensitive?”

  Another wince from the redhead told me all I needed to know there. “We’re just one clan. I can’t change everything everywhere in a single generation. Even here, it’s hard to convince the older women to actually value men as something more than breeding studs and menial labor.”

  “A matriarchal society equivalent to a hunter-gatherer period?” I asked, and Dooku nodded.

  Augwynne sighed. Quietly, she asked, “And how would you fix it, without inciting rebellion and instigating a civil war that would wipe out much of our population?” Looking to me, she continued, “I mean that earnestly. Things can’t be allowed to continue as they are, or in a hundred years we’ll be down to less than half a dozen tribes fighting over a handful of shriveled up male slaves, who are all related to every woman of every tribe in some way. Importing new males from elsewhere only pushes the problem off on future generations without resolving the underlying issues.”

  Turning back to Dooku, she asked, “If you have any wisdom to share, master Jedi, I will listen.”

  Dooku sipped at his tea for a few moments as he considered. Finally, he nodded. “Let us see if we can’t work out some kind of solution together. We will be here for a while and this is but one of many things I would like to discuss.”

  A grin pulled at the redhead’s lips and she nodded. “I look forward to it.” Picking up her own cup, she took a sip and cut her eyes back over to me. “Tell me, how old is your padawan, master Dooku?”

  “Seven now, I believe,” he said, looking to me for confirmation as I nodded.

  “Perfect. She’s just the right age to start the first stage of the rites of adulthood.”

  “The what?” I asked, and she grinned.

  “It’s a coming of age ceremony. We hold one at age seven, when a girl stops being a child and earns her place as a member of the tribe, becoming a hunter and warrior in her own right. A second is held at age fourteen, and if she passes she is officially considered an adult. The third, at age twenty-one, where she becomes a matron—those with responsibility who oversee the children and the training of the younger generations. The next coming of age ceremony is when she becomes a mother, and the last when she becomes too old to hunt and fight and instead shares her wisdom with the rest of the clan.”

  She cast a glance at Dooku. “Your student is bright, but at that age, I know it’s difficult to sit still for long. They’re always full of energy. This is the best time to take advantage of that.”

  The older man nodded. “Quite.”

  “Tanya, was it? How would you feel about joining the girls your age for training?”

  “I’d be willing to try it,” I nodded.

  Dooku chuckled, drawing Augwynne’s attention. “You’ll find she picks things up quickly. It may be best to evaluate her and adjust as you go.”

  “Is that so?” the redhead asked, and he nodded.

  “It’s one of the reasons I brought her with me. It was causing some internal strife within the temple.”

  “Very interesting,” Augwynne hummed. “Okay. There are guest rooms and a shower back down the hall. My own room is further in, so you’re free to rest in any of them. You won’t be disturbed. Food will be brought shortly, but starting tomorrow, I expect you to join the children on the hunt. Those who don’t work, don’t eat. Your master will be working in another way, so don’t worry about him. Go on, now,” she waved a hand towards the door in a clear dismissal.

  I wondered briefly what other way she meant as I stood, before the woman turned her focus back to Dooku and aggressive sexual tension filled the room. “Now, master Dooku, let us put away work for the rest of the evening.” She gestured and the table cleared of everything but the tea and cups, everything moving off to shelves in the room. “Why don’t you regale me with tales of far off lands?”

  “A story for a story, perhaps,” he smiled, and I slipped through the leather divider, making my way down the hall.

  I wonder what sort of training their children undergo. I suppose I’ll find out tomorrow.