A Young Girl’s War Between the Stars

  29

  Coruscant, 40 BBY/960 GSC.

  Yoda's ears twitched.

  Behind him, the chamber’s metal doors smoothly whispered shut and the footsteps told him that the last members of the High Council had arrived. But he did not turn from the window, not yet.

  Needed, a moment of quiet contemplation was. Especially for the Jedi High Council, and especially on 'emergency' meetings. No emotion, no passion; only minds at peace and hearts with serenity.

  Yoda breathed deeply and rested his hands on his cane. He drank in the warm sunset of Coruscant as it filtered through the transparisteel windows, as well as the view of the life on Coruscant. The endless sprawl of towers, skybridges, and hovering platforms stretching toward infinity and all the way down to the planet's surface, and below. Congested air lanes lined the sky overhead like broken grid squares formed with starships, intersections marked by gradually pulsing crimson traffic beacons. And far below, the lower levels lay, their traffic forming luminous golden veins across the sprawling Coruscant metropolis…

  His thoughts turned briefly to the most likely subject of the coming session and a day not too long ago now when he had asked her thoughts on the vista outside. Yoda saw countless people all gathered together in relative peace and harmony, visible evidence of the endless march of progress that was civilization. He saw Coruscant as the shining jewel of the Republic and an example to the rest of the galaxy. The student in question, however, saw not the vibrant life below and around them. She saw only a barren, bleak cage devoid of nature, with people packed in shoulder to shoulder like livestock. One person’s paradise truly was another’s prison.

  His ear twitched again as a stray sound clipped right off the green of his skin

  Impatience.

  He could feel the undercurrents of emotion from some of the gathered Masters, shifting in their seats. Some masked their emotions well—Mace Windu’s posture was composed but wary, his faction glancing toward him for unspoken guidance. Others, like Ki-Adi-Mundi, barely concealed his simmering impatience. And then there was Dooku—his former Padawan—who filled the room with his quiet deliberations. Existed, factions always had within the Council, but rarely had they been this distinct. A third of those present clearly knew something the others did not, and judging by the grim set of their features in their reflections on the window, they were far from pleased.

  Then, with a sharp rap of his cane against the stone floor, he turned, swept his eyes across the council.

  “Begin, this emergency meeting of the Jedi High Council shall,” he began, the leather of his chair rustling quietly as he took his seat. “Master Mundi, requested this meeting you did. Have the floor, you do.”

  Mundi nodded, tapping at something on the controls built into the arm of his chair. “First, I would like to read an excerpt of a report for the Council.”

  Clearing his throat, Mundi began, “‘Detected three enemy scouts monitoring my routine. Confirmed their presences visually. Began planning to infiltrate and eliminate enemy force. Allowed enemy agent to take me hostage and board enemy ship. Confirmed enemy as Death Watch faction of Mandalorians. Death Watch agent attempted highly unprofessional interrogation but failed to basic anti-interrogation tactics. Further questioning on my part confirmed the agent’s identity to be that of Bo-Katan Kryze, sister of Master Qui-Gon Jinn’s primary, Satine Kryze. Ms. Kryze relocated us from Sundari to a camp far on its outskirts. Registered fifty-six Death Watch present as we landed. Disembarked ship with captor and confirmed presence of enemy faction and lack of non-combatants. Confirmed presence of Death Watch faction leader, Tor Vizsla. Vizsla contacted Master Dooku and attempted to ransom me back, in exchange for leaving the planet for an attack on the True Mandalorian and New Mandalorian faction leaders. Spoke with Master Dooku, confirmed approval to defend myself with force.’”

  Master Mundi paused, looking around the room for a moment. So far, Yoda noticed that practically everyone who wasn’t already in the know was nodding along. They obviously had not put together what was going on and just who had written the report in question—nor Mundi’s play. Yoda, however, had already read the original report and spoken with Dooku and Lene about it. He had even visited Qui-Gon before he left on another mission just to hear his thoughts. He knew for a fact what went on between Mandalore and Serenno.

  Yoda had also been briefed by Dooku privately regarding Tanya. His old padawan was cagey about the details, but he had relayed that Tanya had explained to himself, Qui-Gon, and Sifo-Dyas why she was… the way she was and that those three trusted her implicitly at this point. Dooku’s advice was to treat her not as a youngling or initiate, but as someone between a Padawan and a Knight who had completed many of her trials in the field—the Trial of Skill, Courage, the Flesh, and Insight at the very least, with only the Trial of Spirit left incomplete. Regardless of what happened here today, Yoda would be recommending Tanya be made Dooku’s Padawan—she was well beyond being an initiate now.

  The problem was, while he hid his outward tells and his emotions within the Force, Mundi’s motives were not pure. Yoda knew the man could be blinded by what was right in front of him. The Cerean had a habit of making his mind up about something, or someone quickly and once he did, not changing his position even if new evidence was presented—preferring to play the long game and then, if someone did something to draw his ire, claim he had been right all along. It was one of the man’s more glaring flaws—that arrogance to believe that he alone was the most intelligent being in the room. In spite of that, he was still one of the better Jedi Masters in the order at the moment.

  Yoda could understand why Mundi felt the way he did about Tanya. A youngling should never have to take a life, and one who did so easily was concerning. However, taking what Dooku, Qui-Gon, and Lene all said about her into consideration—and Tanya’s own answers to previous questioning—Yoda found his concerns lessened somewhat. The girl did what she believed was necessary and those actions to date had been justified—and decisiveness, when it was appropriate, was a trait to be lauded within the Order, not scorned or punished. Likewise, while she clearly enjoyed combat and felt justified in taking a life if she must, she was not sick—she did not take joy in the suffering of others.

  The Grandmaster was pulled from his thoughts as Mundi spoke again, into the expectant, tense silence, reciting the next line from Tanya’s report. “‘Neutralized Death Watch forces. Post-battle tally: one escape, one medic untouched, six walking wounded, eight disabled by removal of limbs, forty dead.’”

  Once again, Mundi paused and looked around. “I’ll repeat that. Forty dead, the rest either maimed or wounded.”

  “I fail to see the problem,” Master Windu shook his head. “It sounds to me like the mission was a resounding success.”

  “Perhaps you’ll change your mind when you see it for yourself,” Master Mundi sneered, touching a control on the arm of his chair. In the center of the room, the holo projector sprang to life.

  Yoda watched in silence as, in the hologram, the events of the report Mundi had just read played out. Yoda had to admit, watching from the perspective of those on the receiving end of Tanya, the footage was rather damning. Had she acted within the limits and by the code of the Jedi? Perhaps. It was hard to truly say without having been there.

  However, if there were truly some great darkness within the girl, the capacity to truly become a Sith, they would have sensed it by now. Yoda had seen her in passing since her return from Serenno and, as ever, while there was darkness inside of her there was also light in equal amounts. Nothing had changed, there.

  Unfortunately, it seemed that many of the Council didn’t share his opinion—and judging by the way Master Mundi’s lips threatened to twitch into a grin, he had counted on that. His gaze turned to Dooku, fixing him with an irritated look through the hologram, and in that moment Mundi did smile—a look that said he had won. But in his supposed victory, his control slipped, exposing his emotions to the Council. In the sudden upset over Tanya’s actions on camera, they would normally have been lost, but Yoda had been watching and waiting patiently for just such an opportunity.

  Yoda pressed one finger down on the arm of his chair, shutting off the hologram as Mundi’s head snapped to him. The Council chambers fell silent as everyone seemed to hold their collective breath. After a moment of silence, Yoda broke it. “Much fear do I sense in you, Master Mundi.”

  “Grandmaster Yoda, this girl… she is monstrous,” Mundi pleaded his case, but Yoda held up a hand, cutting him off.

  “Hear the story from her, we shall.”

  Looking to Dooku, Master Windu nodded, “I agree. Where is she now?”

  I waited calmly as the projection of Ajunta Pall stared at me. Finally, he chuckled, then shook his head. “Somehow, you keep surprising me, Keeper. Most impressive.” When I simply waited, he continued. “Very well. I don’t believe we need to go over every little thing. You handled yourself well enough.”

  He paused, frowning, before sending me a serious look. “There is one matter, however. That formula you used while fighting the Mandalorians. You should use it sparingly. Only in emergencies, and even then, I would be very judicious about its use.”

  “The combat stimulant formula?” I asked, and he nodded. “Why? It was tested and proven effective over several decades. It’s non-addictive and there are no physical side effects from its use.”

  “Two reasons. The first: a Force user must master their mind just as much as their body. If you are not the master of your emotions, then you are a slave to them. Secondly: can you say the same amount of care was given to the potential psychological side effects? Could you claim the people who taught the spell to troops were entirely honest, or is it more likely they decided it was ‘good enough’ to give their troops an edge over the enemy and they could handle any issues after the war?”

  I started to argue, only to pause. Frowning, I considered what I knew of it from my own studies. Unfortunately, there hadn’t been much in the way of literature available to me on it. And more concerning, everything he said made sense. It would be perfectly within the character of the military apparatus to do exactly that. To not disclose any potential side effects, then have their troops hopped up on magical go juice to beat the enemy, and any issues would have only come out years after the war ended.

  Closing my eyes, I turned my senses inwards, towards my own memories and feelings around the times I used that formula and then afterwards. More than a few of them were a confusing jumble of half-remembered action. I noticed a trend as well. After I first started using it, I was faster to use it every successive time when I felt in danger. It wasn’t like I used it for every single battle—just enough of them that, looking back on it, there might be some truth to the theory that there was a psychological element I had missed.

  Coming to a decision, I nodded. “Alright.”

  “…Just like that?”

  Sending the Gatekeeper a curious look, I asked, “Yes. Why? Is that a problem?”

  The projection chuckled. “No. It’s just that most wouldn’t give up an advantage so easily.”

  I shrugged. “If it’s hurting me, then I should save it for when it’s needed. And since determining whether or not it’s having a negative effect would require long term, extensive study, I’m not going to get an answer any time soon. So, better I not risk everything if I don’t have to.” Frowning, I continued, “What sort of people have you been teaching that, if you told them what they were doing was hurting them, they would decide to keep doing it for some small performance boost?”

  “Sith,” the Gatekeeper chuckled. “Now, on to the important matter. You’ve discovered how to enhance your use of the Force using emotions.”

  It wasn’t a question, but I nodded and answered anyway. “I did.”

  “That is good. Continue training without using emotions to enhance your use of the Force, so that you don’t become over reliant upon it, and you attain a greater level of power and control over time. You should, however, include time to practice both attempting to induce certain emotional states and then using them to empower your use of the Force.”

  “Figure out how to produce emotions on demand and learn how to handle the differences,” I interpreted, and he nodded.

  “Yes. I will warn you, however. Anger is quick to come when called. It is very easy to use and provides a very large burst of strength. It can be very useful in a pinch. But it is volatile and quick to burn out unless you keep it fed. Keep it fed for too long however, and you will be consumed by it. Anger is just as natural as any other emotion, but you must be careful with its use in fueling the Force, lest it cause unintended harm. Also, if you find yourself fighting a Sith, they will most likely be fueling their own Force techniques with anger and hate, and will have years of experience on you in doing so, and in avoiding the pitfalls that can come from fighting angry. Do not allow them to drag you down to their level, lest they beat you with that experience.”

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  “The history lesson about Revan and how his love for Bastila Shan freed her from mind control?”

  The projection smiled, nodding. “Exactly. However, you’ll find that it’s much harder to call upon more positive emotions in battle. Most of those come from our attachments to others, and with no one to be attached to…”

  “It sounds like sabotage from within, when you put it that way, and take the dark side Force nexus beneath the Temple into consideration,” I murmured. “I’m still reading through the data I collected.”

  “In the meantime, I have a new technique for you to begin studying,” the projection supplied, and I nodded. “It is called tutaminis. Otherwise known as Force Absorption, or Energy Negation. As the name implies, it is an art that will allow a Force user to absorb, dissipate, negate, dispel, or redirect all forms of energy—from kinetic, to heat, electricity, even the plasma blade of a lightsaber or the bolts from a blaster. It is tangentially related to the dark side ability Force Drain, which drains the life energy or bio-electric energy of a target, but is neutral in the Force. Unlike Force Drain, it is not directly harmful to organic life in a way that is intrinsically dark and can be trained relatively easily, without experiencing it being used on yourself.”

  I considered the caveat there at the end and came to what I felt was the most obvious conclusion. “Stopping someone’s heart by absorbing their kinetic energy isn’t the same as absorbing their life energy, which is a dark side technique?”

  “Correct.”

  That made about as much sense as anything else. After all, not dark didn’t mean not lethal. You could just as easily squish someone’s head with Force Telekinesis as you could pick them up or toss them away. As with most Force techniques, it seemed to be the intent behind using it that mattered. “Very well. How do I train it?”

  “Mm. The best way would be to acquire a training drone. You’ve used them before, to train your reflexes. Have it fire at you, sense the energy of the blaster bolt, then redirect it in the air or stop it entirely. That is an easy enough starting place. From there, you should move on to letting them hit you and converting the energy to another form, such as Force Lightning, Telekinesis, or just using it to bolster yourself. Or you could use it to feed that seed of Force within your computation orb.”

  I saw the value of that last use immediately. If I could convert blaster bolts fired at me directly into stored Force power for later, and do so reflexively, then that would be a major boon going forward. Enemies using blasters against me would only be empowering me, to their own detriment. “I understand. I’ll procure some drones. You mentioned Force Lightning. That’s a technique I don’t know, yet.”

  “Some argue that it is inherently dark, but I disagree. It is very easy to use it for dark purposes, certainly—over the millennia it has been one of the Sith’s favorite tools of torture. It also tends to come much more easily when emotions run hot, because of how much power is required to use it—which is the other half of where its bad reputation comes from. However, as with most things, the intent behind the usage matters. Fire is neither good nor evil, nor is using it to kill an enemy inherently good or evil. It can be used by those aligned with either side of the Force. Just keep in mind, most Jedi are going to label those who use the technique as dark.”

  “Yes, well, better to have it when I need it than die nobly when I could have used it to save myself and others. How effective is it against droids?”

  “Very,” the gatekeeper grinned.

  “And considering the enemy forces in this coming war will largely be made of droids, it would be stupid not to learn a technique that could disable them in large groups. How do I use it?”

  “You’ll want to be outside when you test this. I don’t imagine you want to damage something on the ship.”

  I nodded and listened as he spoke, outlining the details for how to summon Force Lightning. It sounded surprisingly simple, really. Almost as simple as Force Telekinesis. Apparently, there were more advanced uses than just spraying lightning at your enemy—some of which sounded particularly interesting, especially the ability to level a storm on an army of moving lightning rods, that is droids. I’d need to add it to the rotation of things to practice.

  Eventually, my personal holocom beeped and I shut off the holocron, locking it away and making my way out of the lower deck of the Rusted Silver. Activating the device, saw Master Dooku on the other side. “Master Dooku,” I greeted with a nod.

  The man did not smile—in fact, he seemed a bit irritated. “Tanya,” he hesitated a moment and I raised an eyebrow, wondering what it was that could give Master Dooku pause. “The Jedi High Council wishes to speak with you regarding the events of Mandalore and Serenno.”

  Blinking, I frowned. “It’s all there in my report.”

  “Oh, they are aware of the report,” he murmured. “That is what they wish to discuss.”

  There were entire volumes of implications in the older man’s tone and expression. For some reason, the High Council was putting my report under a microscope—taking it under review, as it were. I couldn’t help but wonder whether it was a case of them doubting the veracity of my report… or if the problem was that they believed the report and found it worrying. Given what I knew of the High Council, it could honestly go either way.

  On the one hand, some of the things I had written in my report even made my eyebrows raise in incredulity when I’d reread it to proofread, and I had been the one doing them. Back in the Empire, that sort of thing became such a common occurrence that after the first few times, my superiors had simply stopped questioning it up to a certain threshold.

  On the other hand, I remembered how they had reacted to the events of Dathomir. But surely they now knew me to be capable of combat with lethal outcomes and should expect that to happen if the situation called for it. Only a complete buffoon would look at a report of a military pacification operation and single out one of the soldiers dispatched on that mission for being too effective.

  It must be the first, then. Well, luckily enough, I ported over and compiled as many of the logs as I could and requested Jaster, Jango, and someone from Serenno send what they had for my report while we were in flight. I should have all the evidence I need to prove that what I said happened, happened. The footage of that giant lizard should be particularly amusing~.

  Smiling, I sent Master Dooku a nod. “Very well! When do they wish to see me?”

  He sent me a curious look I couldn’t quite decipher before answering, “Within the hour. They had expected you to be in the temple, but I’ve explained the matter we spoke of and our concerns. On that front, they are assigning a team to investigate—Jedi who have been away from Coruscant, or who were never on Coruscant for long, who can approach the matter as unbiased as possible and with a fresh set of eyes.”

  “Well, that’s good news at least,” I mused, moving over to my computer and starting a data transfer to a data drive compatible with my portable holocom so I could show the Council what I needed to. “I’ll be there as soon as I’ve gathered my reports and other supporting evidence, Master Dooku. Oh! And Master? Do you have my lightsaber? I’d like to be the one to turn it over myself.”

  “I’ll retrieve it,” he confirmed. “We will be waiting.” With that, he signed off and I focused on getting the files I needed.

  Yoda watched as Dooku returned to the High Council chamber, Tanya following in his wake. Dooku retook his seat while Tanya made her way to the middle of the chamber. As she did, he noticed a feeling within the Force coming from her—or something on her person. A quiet, regular ticking—four simultaneous ticks per second. It seemed to draw on the surrounding Force and, reaching out carefully, Yoda felt it all drawn in and compressed down into a bead of Force stored somewhere over the girl’s heart—slowly growing, one tick at a time. She had clearly built something, some kind of device that interacted with the Force, but Yoda couldn’t determine why without seeing it in action.

  “Masters,” Tanya nodded in greeting. “Reporting as ordered.”

  Mundi’s emotions flared for just a moment—anger radiating outwards, drawing the girl’s eyes and sending one of her eyebrows raising towards her hairline. Yoda spoke up before Master Mundi could embarrass himself further with some kind of outburst. Jedi were supposed to master their emotions and he hadn’t seen Mundi this worked up since he was a boy—and Yoda was beginning to suspect that Mundi didn’t even see it, because he was too emotionally invested in the situation.

  “Have some questions about your reports, we do.”

  Tanya’s silver-blue eyes shifted to Yoda and she nodded. “I’ll answer what I can.”

  “Mm,” Yoda hummed, tapping a few keys on his chair and bringing up a smaller hologram before himself of the reports in question. He ignored them for the moment, meeting her gaze as he went to what he felt was the more pressing issue first. “Before that however, reported to Masters Dooku, Qui-Gon, and Lene you did. Something wrong with the Temple, you felt. Describe it.”

  “Grandmaster Yoda, surely this can wait—” Mundi protested, only for Yoda to hold up a hand.

  “Wait, it shall not. Important, I feel.”

  Seeing she had permission, the Zeltron girl began to explain. “As you are aware, the temple is built upon a Force nexus. However, having Dathomir’s natural balance of light and dark in the wild, and Ilum’s light side nexus to compare it to, it’s clear to my senses that this nexus is dark. To my senses, from the outside, it’s like a giant shadow, growing darker towards the center—and darkest directly over where the Temple is situated. Moving closer feels like passing through multiple layers of veils hiding the area within. They’re light at first, barely noticeable and easily seen through, but they grow heavier and harder to see through the deeper one goes. Until finally, here in the temple itself, it feels like a heavy veil wrapped around my eyes, cutting off much of my Force senses outside the temple. The sensation lingers for a while when I leave, clinging in a way that takes concerted effort to remove—though, thinking back on it, I will say that being in Ilum seemed to remove it entirely shortly after entering the temple there.”

  Yoda looked around the Council as the others began to murmur amongst themselves. The general consensus seemed to be that they had made the right call in deciding to at least investigate using Jedi who hadn’t been to the temple in a while, but there were some who were beginning to ask what they should do if it was true—if the Force nexus beneath the temple had been corrupted with the dark side.

  Yoda himself had already come to a decision, however. If the nexus was blinding them, or weakening their perception of the greater Force as Tanya seemed to believe from her own experiences, then they would have to relocate. Coruscant may be the beating heart of the Republic, and it may be inconvenient for them to leave the planet and move their temple elsewhere, but blinding themselves for the sake of convenience was a terrible idea.

  Of course, such a move would go against the intent of the Russan Reformation and the decision to consolidate the Jedi to one location and integrate more closely with the Republic. He wasn’t sure that, given the possible civil war coming, the Republic could survive having the Jedi move away from where they could more directly influence the Senate. Moving off of the Force nexus here and just rebuilding elsewhere on the planet would cripple their training of younglings…

  It was a delicate matter. But one for later. There was much deliberation to be had.

  Clicking his cane on the ground, Yoda drew the room’s attention again. “Thank you. Investigate this, we shall. Now, your report. From the beginning, tell us what happened.”

  Tanya frowned. “All of that is in my report, Master.”

  “We’d like to hear it in your own words,” Master Windu explained, and the girl nodded.

  “Very well.” She gestured and Yoda felt the Force twist and bend very precisely as it projected into a hologram, or perhaps it would be better to say an illusion. He could sense the other Masters’ curiosity at the technique, but a gesture from him silenced them.

  Yoda listened as Tanya began her recounting. Occasionally, if necessary, she would take out her personal holocom and attach a data drive to it, before connecting the device to the room’s own holographic display to show footage where it was available, or sensor readings pulled from various ships, droids, and other sources. The entire presentation was very thorough, for having apparently been put together on short notice.

  The longer it went on, the more the Council’s incredulity and unease grew—or at least, some of them. Hearing Tanya recount it herself, Yoda felt both unease and fear within Mundi and those who had learned of this beforehand. Mace, on the other hand, leaned back in his chair and watched the girl, fingers steepled in his lap as he studied her, occasionally nodding along.

  When Tanya finished, the questions began.

  Yoda opened with his own question first. “How feel you?” Tanya blinked, sending him a confused look. Remembering the last time he had asked her that question and gotten a literal answer as to how she felt in the moment, Yoda added, “About the missions.”

  Tanya nodded, smiling. “Both were a resounding success. We’ve established a firm ally in the Mandalorians and ensured that they will feel indebted to us for their political stability going forward, at least while Satine remains in office and Jaster remains Mandalore. We crippled a threat not just to the other Mandalorian factions, but to the greater galaxy, since the stated goal of the Death Watch was a return to the ‘good old days’ of the Mandalorian Crusades—and left them in a poor position to recover from the blow stuck them as the other Mandalorians hunt them down. We’ve secured peace for at least as long as Satine reigns, while they focus on rebuilding their devastated worlds and building up defense forces to handle pirates and other local threats.”

  Pausing, she pulled the small canteen off her belt and took a moment to take a swallow of water and wet her throat before continuing. “As for Serenno, we liberated a world from an attempted coup, stopped a potential civil war, and put down a group of mercenary pirates who were imprisoning locals to use as leverage against their conscripts. I saw the inside of those camps. I saw the victims, after they were released.”

  She hesitated for just a moment, her eyes going distant. “It was bad. So, while overall I feel the mission was a success, I can’t help but wonder if I could have done more. Gotten to the enemy commander faster.” Taking a breath, she shook her head. “We live in a world of is and was, not might have been. Regret is useful for making sure you do it better next time, but I won’t feel guilty over being unable to achieve something fast enough that we weren’t expecting, didn’t plan for, and were ill equipped to deal with.”

  Those eyes focused on Yoda again, and even with her mind closed off, Yoda didn’t need to sense her emotions to see her resolve. “That is how I feel, Grandmaster. That overall, we did a good job. We did a good thing. But there is still room for improvement.”

  “And just how many lives did you take in the process?” Master Mundi spat.

  The girl shifted her attention to Mundi, a frown pulling at her lips. “Exactly as many as it took,” she answered blandly.

  Master Mundi looked around at the rest of the Council, gesturing to Tanya as his voice quickly rose in volume. “Potentially hundreds of lives lost! And she feels no remorse whatsoever! I urge you all to join me in voting to censure her before it’s too late!”

  Tanya shook her head. “Do you remember what happened to the Cathar, nearly four thousand years ago? Tor Vizsla and his Death Watch wanted to return to that. Have you ever seen the inside of a prison camp, Master Mundi? I assure you, every Death Watch Mandalorian and Abyssin pirate slaver killed was a service to the rest of the universe. I did what was necessary. The deaths of a few—perhaps a few hundred—very bad people have ensured that the lives of thousands or more innocents continue.”

  Mundi moved to stand, anger on his face. At the same time, Tanya pulled a lightsaber hilt from her belt. The man pulled his own lightsaber as Tanya… turned away from him and strode towards Yoda, stopping only a few feet away. She looked calm and Yoda felt no sense of danger within the Force.

  The lightsaber flicked on, revealing a unique black blade—flat and pointed like a sword, instead of the usual round. She held it out to the side for a moment before clicking it off and spinning the hilt in her hand, then offering it to Yoda.

  “I recovered this from Tor Vizsla.”

  Yoda carefully took the relic offered, examining it for just a moment, before looking around the girl to Mundi—standing there holding his lightsaber, not ignited but clearly having expected something entirely different. For just a moment, the man met Yoda’s eyes and actually looked embarrassed, before tucking away his hilt and returning to his seat.

  “Secure this in the vault, we shall,” Yoda nodded. “Speak on these events, we must. Return to your training in the meantime.”

  “Thank you, Grandmaster,” she agreed, spinning on her heel and leaving the room quickly.