Chapter 36: Chapter 36

A Young Girl’s War Between the Stars

Hyperspace, 39 BBY/961 GSC. En-route from Vanqor to Serenno.

“Is something the matter?”

Frowning, I opened my eyes to regard the projection leaning against the bulkhead of my ship. “There’s a… smell. Something gross. And I feel something nearby.”

The projection raised an eyebrow, glancing towards the front of the ship, where we could see the endless blue and white tunnel of hyperspace. “Inside the ship, or…?”

I shook my head. “Inside. It feels like an animal. A few tiny presences in the Force and one larger one. Simple emotions from the big one. Right now, a sort of lazy feeling, like someone trying to nap. The smaller ones are between the lower deck’s floor plate and the hull. The bigger one is hiding somewhere in a hollow between the two decks.” I held up a hand, projecting an illusion created from a detection formula ping through the ship, showing a small red blob squeezed into the improbably tight space that was a cable conduit, which ran from the front of the ship to the back and had regular access hatches—along with a cluster of three much smaller red dots below the lower deck. “The smaller ones feel vaguely dark in the Force, but I’m not sensing danger.”

Revan’s projection chuckled. “It sounds as though you’ve picked up some stowaways. There are a few things they could be. Pray none of them are gizkas. They’ll eat the ship inside out.”

“What’s a gizka?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nasty little critters—they’re a common pest animal practically everywhere with ships. Especially places where those living there are lax in their cleaning duties, such as pirate bases like the one we just left. Once had an infestation on the Ebon Hawk. They’re small, two legged reptiles, with an exponential reproduction rate and they eat nearly anything, including electrical wiring. If they’re gizka, they’ll begin multiplying within a matter of days. The more they eat, the more they multiply. They taste alright—a delicacy in some places. They taste kind of like chicken.”

I didn’t like the sound of a creature that could eat the electrical wiring of the ship I was currently flying through hyperspace in. “Can they survive vacuum?”

Revan’s projection laughed. “Annoyingly well, yes. They can revive after being frozen and suffocated. They’ll go dormant and awaken once it gets warm enough and they detect a breathable atmosphere. Best way to kill them, if you manage to pick some up, is poison made specifically for them. Most places carry it. However…”

“We’re a long way from any such port,” I murmured, and the Gatekeeper nodded. “And assuming that is what they are.” Taking a breath, I blew it out in annoyance and stood from where I had been meditating. “I’ll go adjust the atmosphere scrubbers to eliminate the smell until we can confirm one way or another.”

Coruscant, 40 BBY/960 GSC. A few hours after the emergency High Council session.

“Thank you, sir! Enjoy your stay!”

“Yes, thank you,” Dooku nodded to the hotel clerk and made his way to the elevator, carrying the bag containing all of his worldly possessions with him. He went down a floor, then followed the hall to the room where he would be staying for a few days, while he arranged aid for Serenno.

Taking in the lavish quarters, he set his bag down on the bed. Removing his personal holocom, he made his way over to the closed balcony door overlooking the Coruscant sunset. Pulling a chair over with the Force, he sat down and opened his list of contacts, considering who to speak with first.

Before he could make a decision, the communicator rang. The number displayed wasn’t one he recognized, but the name given was: Sheev Palpatine.

He had spoken briefly with the senator before leaving for Mandalore, to recruit troops for Serenno. He hadn’t had time to spare, then.

Deciding to see what the senator wanted, he answered. “Senator Palpatine,” Dooku greeted with a nod.

“Master Dooku,” the senator’s hologram nodded. “I hear congratulations are in order. I take it your mission to quell the civil war on your home world was successful?”

“It was, but not without cost,” Dooku admitted. “Many lives were lost in the retaking of Serenno, including a good friend. The mercenary forces and Ramil’s separatists were not kind, either. There is much to do still, to make Serenno whole again.”

Dooku had his suspicions about Sifo-Dyas and his death, but he wasn’t going to voice them. If his old friend had conspired with his new Padawan to disappear, then Dooku trusted that it was for a good reason. He would ask her, but if Tanya wasn’t volunteering the information and he hadn’t been informed by Sifo ahead of time, Dooku suspected it was something that if questioned about, he would appreciate being able to honestly claim ignorance.

Palpatine nodded, looking sympathetic as he did. “Yes, war is a horrible thing. But you sound as if you mean to go there yourself. I thought Jedi were forbidden from those sorts of attachments?”

“Yes, well, after some consideration, I’ve decided that perhaps it is time to retire from the Order. I find I no longer have the patience to stomach the politics of the High Council, and I am needed elsewhere. I will be taking one last Padawan and returning to Serenno, where I will help my sister rebuild.”

The senator hummed, a considering look crossing his face. “You’re not going to find much aid coming from the Core, I’m afraid.”

“No, I doubt I will,” Dooku nodded. “They were willing to abandon Serenno and write it off as lost, until after the civil war settled. Now, they will likely not want to spare the resources, manpower, or money required.”

Dooku had been ruminating on that problem on the journey back to Coruscant. He believed he might be able to alleviate at least some of the burden there—particularly of manpower and money.

For manpower, while the Mandalorians had claimed most of the weapons used by the droid army, they had generally left the droids themselves alone. Those droids were largely intact, save for those that were damaged or destroyed in the initial exchange of fire, or when the Tirra'Taka had rampaged across the field. There had to be thousands of intact droids left on that battlefield.

Tanya and her Mandalorian squad had done a number on the small control ships meant to coordinate them, to the point that Dooku doubted they would be able to salvage much there. However, droids could be reprogrammed. He wasn’t exactly sure what would go into that, but he knew that turning that droid army into an army of service droids would help his people and take some of the burden and cost off of them. And while the B-1 battle droid wasn’t exactly the most intelligent droid, they didn’t need them to be—they just needed them to be capable of simple manual labor to take care of the most mundane tasks.

As for money, his sister was taking care of securing that as they spoke. By the time he returned, their factories should be refining material and preparing to ship it out for trade, turning Serenno into one of the most wealthy worlds in the Outer Rim. Perhaps even wealthy and powerful enough to turn their backs on the Republic, the way the Republic had abandoned Serenno in their hour of need… ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ noⅴelfire.net

The senator speaking drew Dooku’s attention and caused an eyebrow to raise. “Well, I might be able to help with at least two of those,” the man smiled.

“Oh yes. Resources and money, those we can spare. I’ll pitch the idea to Queen Sanandrassa as charitable foreign aid.”

Dooku studied the other man for a few moments before nodding. “I thank you for the offer, senator. However, I did not make it onto the Jedi High Council without learning that when it comes to politics, there is no such thing as a free lunch. I apologize for being blunt, but what is your aid going to cost?”

Palpatine laughed. “Yes, unfortunately that is the nature of the beast that is the senate. I am no exception, I’m afraid. I won’t ask for anything too onerous. All I ask in return is a fair trade deal for, and preferential status on trade for sacanium.”

Dooku blinked once, before a frown stole over his face. “How do you know about that? We had only just received the material test results back before I left to return to Coruscant.”

The senator gave a wily smile, before tapping the side of his nose. “Let’s just say that while Naboo may be quite far removed from the Core and Coruscant, we like to keep abreast of what’s going on elsewhere in the galaxy.”

“I see.” Leaning back in his seat, Dooku rested his chin on his fist and considered the senator as he thought it over. Finally, he said, “I cannot make any promises at the moment. However, once I return to Serenno and surveys have determined just how much of this new resource there is available to spare some to sell, I can contact you and we can negotiate something.”

“That’s all I ask,” Senator Palpatine nodded. “But I assure you, Naboo is a trade partner you want in your corner. Our planet’s plasma resources are particularly sought after, and if you’re looking to expand into large scale mining and refining, then those refineries are going to need clean burning plasma. Such a deal could be mutually beneficial to both our worlds. Unfortunately, I can’t do much about the price of that plasma beyond cutting the costs it would take to buy it being resold from Coruscant. You see, the deal our previous king made with the Trade Federation may have benefited our government in the short term, but left us without any way of taking over and exploiting our own resources. None of our people have been trained in how to run the plasma extractors, and I know for a fact that the Trade Federation sells it at twenty times the price it should.”

Frowning, Dooku asked, “The Trade Federation?”

A premonition came over him then. Perhaps it was just a hunch, or it may have been a stirring in the Force. Or it could just be that Tanya’s warning the day he first met her had taken root and he was simply primed to suspect foul play on the part of the Trade Federation.

Either way, Dooku couldn’t help but think that this was related to the Trade Federation’s recent moves to begin consolidating power in the Outer and Mid Rim. If they were truly looking to break off from the Republic, then Naboo would be an excellent source of energy for their own people, and they could bolster the economy within the Outer and Mid Rim to support their war efforts by lowering the price of plasma in those areas—specifically, planets they controlled—while gouging the Core in the years leading up to any such conflict. But that would only be if they could set the price of that plasma without Naboo complaining. And to do that… they would need to control Naboo.

Meeting the senator’s eyes, Dooku said, “Such a grievous imbalance in power between a planetary government and a foreign corporation could cause conflict…”

Senator Palpatine nodded, letting out a sigh. “Yes, that is one of the fears of our current queen—that eventually, the Trade Federation will move against us and try to install another puppet ruler, as they had in her predecessor. But that is a problem for Naboo and the Republic. I called to offer my help with your own troubles, not dump mine on you.”

It may be wise to try to cut the Trade Federation off before they make the attempt. If they manage to seize Naboo, they will have Naboo’s high quality plasma and the money from its sale to themselves to further fuel and fund their coming war. This is exactly the sort of problem the Jedi should handle before it becomes a problem, and yet, they are too busy squabbling amongst themselves and trading favors in the Senate to see the threat looming before them. Master Yoda would lecture me on not rocking the boat, not starting trouble or intervening against the wishes of the Senate. But evil flourishes when good men do nothing, and I am tired of doing nothing. There must be some way we can neutralize the threat the Trade Federation poses… And the best way to lay the groundwork for that is to start by making allies outside of the Core. Perhaps, if enough of us stand together, we can also do something about the rot infesting the Republic.

Holding up a hand, Dooku leaned forward in his seat. “Let’s not be hasty. Perhaps we can help each other, senator.”

This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

The senator smiled. “Well, I certainly won’t turn down whatever help you could provide, Master Dooku…”

Coruscant, 40 BBY/960 GSC. A few hours after the emergency High Council session.

Grand Master Yoda sat outside in one of the few green spaces within the Temple, drinking a cup of tea as he watched the sun set over Coruscant. He sat not in silent contemplation, but simply in silence. Feeling the world around him as he extended his senses. His goal was to clear his mind and free himself of distractions—he had needed it, after the High Council session earlier that day. Unfortunately, that was proving difficult.

The Temple and the Jedi within it were a familiar presence, but now that he knew it was there, that it had been pointed out to him, Yoda could feel the shroud of the dark side of the Force all around them. It hung like a thick curtain of webs over the temple, the space within its grounds filled with smoke that his senses had difficulty penetrating. All of the comfort and reassurance he used to take in the silence of the outside world within the temple was gone, now that he knew those things were only because the longer he stayed within its grounds, the more he was blinded to what was going on outside.

No. Blind I have been, to the goings on within the temple. Too long, this has been allowed to go on. An end we must seek and our wrongs must we right.

They needed to put their house in order. And it had to start from the top.

Feeling a familiar presence, he gestured and the kettle of tea poured out a second cup. There was a soft rustle of cloth as Mace sat beside him and took the offered cup. Sensing the conflict within the human, Yoda sat in silence and sipped at his tea, waiting for Mace to speak. When he did not after roughly five minutes by Yoda’s count, the old Grand Master hummed and finally asked, “What troubles you so?”

Mace took a breath and said the two words Yoda had begun to suspect, the longer Mace’s silence went on. “Tanya Mereel.”

Nodding, Yoda took a moment to refill his cup. “Troubling, she is. Willful. Someone who prefers decisive action. Reminds me of someone, she does.”

The Master beside him snorted quietly. “I was never that bad.”

“Worse, you were,” Yoda smiled. “Know where the line is, she does. You did not.” Glancing at Mace, he continued, “But that is not the problem that troubles you, I sense. Something new, this is. A burden shared is a burden halved. Tell me.”

Mace stared into his tea cup for a while before nodding. “I confronted her. We had a conversation and sparred.” Glancing at Yoda out of the corner of his eye, Mace continued, “She feels the Order has become weak and corrupt.”

Taking in a deep breath, Yoda let it out in a long sigh, and nodded once. “Sense this is what troubles you, I do not,” he pointed out, knowing this had long been a point of contention between them.

Now, finally, it seemed Mace had been proven right and Yoda’s faith that the Order had not become corrupt, weak, and stagnant but rather had simply adapted to a modern, more enlightened era was finally being completely eroded out from under him. It was saddening to think about. Frustrating, as well. But more than anything, it was disappointing. And of course, there was that nagging feeling that of everyone in the temple, as the oldest and the one who had influenced practically all of them at one point or another, Yoda was the most responsible for this failure.

“No,” Mace confirmed. “When we sparred, she demonstrated abilities in the Force I’ve never seen before. A shield that it took Shatterpoint to break. A blade that cut through durasteel more effectively than a lightsaber.”

“Mm. Yes. Strange, they are. Very rigid. Meticulous. But dark, they are not,” Yoda murmured, and Mace shook his head.

“Afterwards, I asked her how she knew them. She told me.” Yoda nodded, waiting for Mace to continue. “Apparently, she’s a reincarnation, twice over. Mundane the first time, something like an ancient Force user the second, in her own words. A child soldier, in a war fought with the Force. Worked her up the ranks by proving herself in combat and, if I understood her correctly, had a lot of kills under her belt by the time the enemy decided to cut their losses and dropped a nuke on her.”

Closing his eyes, Yoda took that in, turning it over in his mind as he took a sip of tea. “Explains much, this does. A child, she is not.”

“No. The way I understand it, she lived to adulthood the first time.” Chuckling, Mace ruefully shook his head, “She claimed she loved peace and originally came from a place that hadn’t known war in almost a hundred years.”

“Yet, seek out conflict she does.”

Mace shook his head. “If you look at what she’s done so far, she’s always tried a peaceful solution first if it was available. It’s only when she decides that peace is no longer an option that she commits herself fully to taking action to see whatever is threatening that peace removed.” Chuckling, he continued, “Girl enjoys a fight though, can’t deny that.”

Nodding, Yoda asked, “What say you? What should be done about her?”

“Personally, I think she’ll be fine. If we can get her away from Mundi and get those two to stop antagonizing each other, that’ll help. Going off to Serenno to help them rebuild and train under Dooku for a few years should hopefully give her some time to adjust. Mellow out and come down off of a war footing, really.”

Yoda considered it for a moment before nodding again. “Very well. On the subject of Master Mundi, we must speak. Unbecoming of a Master, his behavior was.”

Mace frowned, finishing off his cup of tea and pouring another, then topping off Yoda’s. “Yes, it was. The problem is, I don’t think we’re going to be able to actually do anything about it, officially speaking. There are enough people on the High Council who either feel that Tanya antagonized him into responding, feel like she’s dangerous, or believe that the dark side influence of the Force nexus under the temple clouded Mundi’s judgment enough to cause him to act rashly that we’ll never get the votes needed for anything decisive.”

“Hm. If not an official censure, then seek an alternative we must. Time away, he needs. Time to reflect.”

“Time to separate him from the temple and conduct an internal investigation for corruption, to see just how bad it is, then start cleaning house,” Mace groused, to a nod from the old Grand Master. “Got anything in mind?”

Yoda’s lips twitched into a smile. “The oldest way of dealing with unruly Padawans and Knights, I believe most fitting.”

“The toilets all have built in sonic scrubbers these days,” the human snorted, earning a quiet laugh from Yoda.

“True, true,” Yoda nodded. Turning an amused look on Mace, he asked, “Believe the Temple is salvageable, do you?”

“I’m not sure. If she’s right and it’s as bad as she says, we may have to relocate, either in part or in whole. We can’t have entire generations of Jedi continuing to be influenced by a dark side Force nexus just because some don’t want to abandon the temple,” he sent Yoda a knowing look and added, “or Coruscant.”

Yoda sighed, nodding as he did. “Yes. A mistake it would be I feel, to move away from the Senate. However, if it is as bad as we fear, continue as we have, we cannot. A small number, we should keep on Coruscant. Perhaps the Councils. Perhaps only the High Council. Relocate from the Temple, those who stay may need.”

Humming, Yoda looked up at the stars just barely visible through the light pollution of the city-planet that was Coruscant. “Of the old Jedi temples, there are many which may be suitable. Dispatch teams to survey, we will. Important. Very important task, this is.”

Mace caught on almost immediately. “Yes, very important,” he nodded. “The Temple on Ilum sits on a light side Force nexus, and more importantly, it’s part of the pilgrimage every youngling takes to retrieve a kyber crystal. We shouldn’t leave such an important task to just anyone.”

“Much time, it may take, to determine how suitable Ilum is for relocation,” Yoda’s lips twitched into a grin.

“True,” Mace agreed. “It could take up to a year. Whoever we send should be prepared to spend at least that long there. They’d need food, water, and other resources, of course.”

“Of course. But likely it is, that if someone was unable to communicate for some time, contact would not come again until someone was sent to check.”

“Equipment failure happens all the time. We should make sure that whoever we send can survive on their own for an extended period of time. They’d need to be a Master, at least.”

“Someone meticulous, we would need. Who would be thorough in their investigation.”

“Well,” Mace hummed, “I can really only think of one man who fits that description. I’ll go inform Master Mundi of the good news… then check his communications equipment myself.”

With that, Mace stood and left, and Yoda let out the laugh he had been holding in. This would serve as a good lesson to the others that not even those on the High Council were above discipline, even if it must come in a roundabout form. And in the meantime, they would perhaps be able to do something about Mundi’s faction within the High Council and the Jedi under them.

Coruscant, 40 BBY/960 GSC. A few days after the emergency High Council session.

Master Ki-Adi-Mundi frowned as he regarded Grand Master Yoda and Master Windu. “Surely you jest.”

“A joke, this is not,” Yoda shook his head. “Quite serious, this matter is.”

“It needs to be done,” Mace added.

Shaking his head, Mundi argued, “This is a job for the Exploration Corps.”

Yoda sent him a reproachful look. “Scattered, the Exploration Corps are. Many months it would take for them to return, refit, resupply, and set out. Time we do not have, in addition to the time it will take to survey.”

Seeing the old Grand Master was insistent, Mundi tried a different track. “I am too valuable in my role here, and in my dealings with the Senate. This job could be done by a few Knights with some support. It does not require a Master of the High Council, and we are not in a position where one of us can be spared to go off to some backwater and sit idly for months.”

“Important to the Order Ilum is, as you well know. Needs to be done right, it does. Trust you to assess the Temple of Ilum and not disturb the kyber crystals within. Very delicate, very important work to the future of the Order. Only one who can, you are.”

Hearing his skill and meticulous nature acknowledged by his former Master stroked Mundi’s ego, but while Yoda may have a point, the simple fact was, Mundi didn’t want to spend a year on an ice ball cut off from the Senate and the goings on in the Temple and his faction. Someone would surely move against his, against their interests if he was away for that long. It couldn’t be done. Someone else, someone less capable would just have to do it, and the Council of First Knowledge would have to accept the loss. Opening his mouth to say just that, he was cut off by Mace.

“That is, unless you feel like you’re too good to go.”

Mundi’s eye twitched, the only sign of his irritation. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Mace shrugged. “This needs to be done. You drew the short straw. Now regardless of whether that’s because you’re the best man for the job or not, you are a member of this Order and everyone from the Grand Master of the Order down to the newest Padawan learner is expected to follow orders when they’re given. You are not an exception to that, Mundi. And while a seat on any Council comes with some perks, such as choosing which missions you decide to take or pass up on when there isn’t a need to send someone specific, that position comes with even more responsibilities. We ask the most of those who can give the most.”

Mundi’s jaw clenched. Looking to Yoda, he found his old Master nodding. “That is why you decided to hold this in private. This ‘assignment’ is nothing but a farce. A convenient cover story for what amounts to a punishment detail given to a unruly Padawan!”

Mace shook his head, raising his voice to speak over Mundi, “You’re not the only one being sent out. I’ve been assigned to go to Jedha. That’s no picnic. Most of the High Council and many of our Masters, Knights, and others who aren’t otherwise occupied have likewise been assigned out into teams or sent on long term solo recon and survey missions just .”

While Mace may have been entirely honest, Mundi couldn’t help but feel he was being singled out. It was Yoda who confirmed his suspicion that this assignment had an ulterior motive, however. “Perhaps, if that is how you feel, ask yourself why that is you should,” Yoda murmured, meeting Mundi’s eyes. “Most unbecoming your behavior has been, of late. Fear. Anger. Jealousy. Resentment. Sense these in you, we do. Use this time of isolation to look within yourself, you must.”

Before Mundi could deny the accusation, Yoda held up a hand. “A long time coming, this reckoning has been, Mundi. My fault, it is, for allowing this to fester within you. Do this, you will. Speak no more on this I will, until you return, and I recognize the man you were, not the one you have become.”

Recognizing the dismissal for what it was, Mundi turned and stormed out of the room, heading for his quarters to pack. It seemed he was going whether he wanted to or not. As he began to pack, his holocom terminal rang. Glancing at the display, he straightened himself and made his way over, picking up the call.

“Hego. To what do I owe this call? I am afraid that I cannot speak long. I have to pack,” Mundi grumbled, some of his agitation slipping through.

“Ki-Adi,” the muun man smiled. “I was hoping to solicit your advice on an upcoming matter the Trade Federation wishes to bring before the Senate. But if you aren’t available…?”

“No, I have some time, before I’m shipped off to Ilum,” the cerean man nodded. “What was it?”

“Well, with Serenno’s previous Count having declared their independence, that planet is in something of a legal gray area, until its new Count or Countess can rescind that and rejoin the Republic. They have recently discovered a rather interesting element that the Trade Federation would very much like to gain access to. I wanted to call and inform you of their intentions, so that the Jedi don’t mistake negotiations for… aggression.”

“Serenno?” Mundi asked, raising an eyebrow. Thinking of his dressing down by Dooku and this most recent insult by his own Master, Mundi shook his head. “I’ll pass the word along, but I won’t be here to manage things. However, Dooku will be returning to Serenno shortly, likely to claim the title of Count, and he is on very friendly terms with Mandalore after the incident on Serenno. I dislike the man, but he has many friends within the Order and others still who owe him favors. I would advise against your usual heavy handed negotiating tactics. Instead, I would suggest not doing business with Serenno and encouraging those you have dealings with to do the same. Use soft power to force them to the negotiating table and deal on your terms when they can’t sell or transport their products, or get imports.”

“Mm. I see,” Hego hummed, nodding as he stroked his chin. “Yes, we don’t want any conflict arising over that.” Meeting Mundi’s eyes, he chuckled and said, “Enough about business though. What is it that has you so irate, my friend? You mentioned Ilum. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No, though I appreciate the offer. This is an internal Jedi matter. There is a possibility, slim though it may be, that we may need to relocate from the Temple on Coruscant—at least in part. I’ve been asked to look into Ilum as a candidate for the move. Personally, I think it’s all bunk considering the source of the information, but it’s a serious enough matter to at least investigate.”

“Oh? The Jedi, leave Coruscant? That does sound serious. But who is this source? It sounds as though they’ve managed to get on your bad side.”

Mundi looked away, scoffing. “Dooku’s new Padawan. She’s a troublemaker. Worse than Qui-Gon ever was, and that man is a terror.”

Hego chuckled. “She sounds interesting, and you know I love hearing about Temple drama. Tell me more.”

“We are not your holo-soap entertainment, Hego,” Mundi complained, even as he moved around the desk and opened his drawer, taking out a bottle of wine. If he was going to get into this, he wasn’t going to do so without something to make it go down easier.

“Of course not. Never,” the munn shook his head, but Mundi could hear the man’s anticipation in his tone.

Taking a sip of his wine, Mundi sighed. “It began when Dooku returned from a trip out to Zeltros…”

Hyperspace, 39 BBY/961 GSC. En-route from Vanqor to Serenno, +5 days.

I glared at the mangled corpse of some small, reptilian creature sitting on my pillow, before picking it up and throwing it into the trash bin. Returning to the scene of the crime, I found a spot that had been wallowed out in the middle of the blanket—a circular depression of short, white hairs, each roughly an inch long.

“Well, I’ve got good news and bad news.”

Taking a deep breath, I nodded once. “Let’s hear it, then.”

“Bad news. You have a gizka infestation.”

“Is that what that was?”

Revan’s projection nodded. “Definitely. You’re going to need to quarantine the ship when you land on Serenno and clean it out, then assess the damage.”

“Of course,” I spat. Picking up the bloody pillow and hairy blanket, I removed the pillow case and tossed everything into the fresher and set it for the highest intensity. “And the good news?”

“Congratulations. You’ve got a cat. The only other thing I’ve seen leave murder presents like that is you.”

“I do not—!” I started to protest, before the projection cocked an eyebrow.

“Remind me again, who was it that brought the freshly severed head of an enemy back to camp after kicking it into a fleeing ship like a ball? There was that dragon on Serenno. You passed the Mandalorian rite of adulthood with a rancor corpse.”

I stared the projection. Revan’s projection stared back.

“So what do I do about it?”

Revan shrugged. “It’s a cat. Ignore it until it wants attention, then expect it to bite when you pet it. Looks like it’s already eating the gizka, so with any luck, it’ll keep their population down until we get to Serenno.”

“Fine,” I grumbled, taking a seat to work on my computation orb a bit. “Hopefully, it runs away the moment we land.”

The projection laughed. “Somehow, I doubt it will. They’re territorial, you see. You may just be stuck with it.”

No, it’s just an animal. All I have to do is lure it off with food and seal the ship up after. Easy.