Chapter 17
A sleek, black Phantom class ship gently lowers itself to the deck of the Shadow Redeemer, its ramp extending the moment the struts contact the deck. A small squad of commandos stand in rank at the end of the ramp, prepared to take the prisoner into custody. Rend descends the ramp, followed by the Mandaolorian and Sun. At the base, Captain Jov’aine salutes the young General, “General, good to see you. We have prepared a cell for the prisoner.” After glancing back towards Mirr, Rend issues an order “A cell won’t be necessary. Mr. Styn has given us no cause to be wary. Prepare one of the open officer quarters. We will be in the lounge.” The Captain salutes once more, “Yes, General. Right away.” Sun steps forward and speaks softly to Rend, “Master, if you do not have need of me I would like to see to some things.” Rend smiles lightly, “Of course, Padawan.” With that, Sun sets off with a spring in her step. As she departs, a shuttle comes into the bay and lands gently, pulling the young woman’s attention and causing her to stop in her tracks. Anhiel exits, followed by a pair of soldiers carrying some supplies. The Admiral strides directly towards Rend and Mirr, stopping a couple steps away from them. In a flat tone she asks, “No issues, I trust?” Rend shakes his head, “No ma’am. I have requested that one of the open officer quarters be prepared for Mr. Styn.” The woman’s face remains emotionless for several moments before she nods slightly, “Very well.” She turns her gaze to the Mandalorian, “Once you are settled, we will discuss how you intend to gain our trust.” As the conversation continues, Sun darts aboard the shuttle, looking around with glee from anticipation which broadens into a wide smile as she finds what she is looking for. She picks up a small crate and exits the shuttle, departing from the hangar bay and heading towards her quarters. After several minutes, Rend and Mirr depart the hangar in the direction of the lounge to wait for quarters to be prepared. Joash intercepts them at the exit from the hangar having been waiting on the perimeter. The older Jedi leans in slightly to address Rend, “Did you bring me back any T’Bac?” Rend shakes his head, “There was a….change in plans.” The old man rolls his eyes as he sighs exasperatedly, mumbling under his breath, “I ask for one simple thing and instead they bring a Mandalorian.” Nearby, Anhiel remains, quietly discussing the items she was able to acquire from the dealer. “Their stock of fuel and military grade armor was lacking. We will need to look elsewhere before departing or we will not be able to operate.” The Captain nods, “Understood. I will oversee the cataloging of what we were able to acquire and send an updated list to you once complete.” With that, Anhiel departed as well, heading to her quarters to freshen up and relax.
To her surprise, a lone Miraluka sits in a chair within her quarters as the door opens. He rises quickly as she enters the room, straightening his robes as he does. Anhiel stops momentarily after entering, looking over the man with a mildly amused expression, “Were you waiting for me, Athin?” He clears his throat with a hint of nervousness, “I was. You left so soon after the most recent incident, I was concerned.” A rare smile forms on the Admiral’s lips at the sentiment as she moves deeper into the room, removing the outer robe draped over her armor, setting it on the bed. She adopts a foreign soft tone as she looks around, “I appreciate your concern, Athin.” A long pause hangs in the air before she continues, “Do you mind helping me out of this armor?” Athin hesitates, assessing the woman’s aura which remains calm before he nods slightly, rising from his seat. Anhiel takes a few short strides towards the man, turning to face her back to him. Gently, the Miraluka begins to release the retention straps down the center of the woman’s back. The plates rest on top of a thin but strong material that begins to open up as the straps are released. He continues until the final strap at the small of the woman’s back is released, allowing him to shift the plates and material over her shoulders. The movement exposes the woman’s smooth and fair skin with dense back muscles rippling just under the surface as she moves to continue pulling the armor off. Athin pulls back rather abruptly as he grazes the Admiral’s flesh, clearing his throat once again before turning away from the woman. The movement and shift in emotions in the Force does not go unnoticed by the silver haired woman as she sheds the armor, leaving only a skin-tight compression bra and very short shorts. As she sets the armor down on the end of the bed, she takes a seat on the edge and turns her gaze towards Athin, smiling lightly. “That is unnecessary, Athin. You have seen me in far less at this point.” She beckons to the nearby seat, insinuating he should sit down. With mild reluctance, Athin complies and sits down, turning his gaze towards the scantily clad woman. Though the sight of a Miraluka is different than most, her beauty is still apparent to him. Anhiel remains confident under his gaze as she looks towards the far wall, contemplating the words she wished to speak that shame and regret had prevented for so many years. The pair sat in silence for several long moments. Athin sat rigidly, noting the shift in the woman’s emotions in the Force. Sensing vulnerability, shame, fear, and regret in Anhiel brought anxiety to the Miraluka as they seemed to be unknown concepts to the woman, who so often gave the impression she was not human. High Admiral, Grandmaster, battle hardened veteran, fierce warrior, these were the terms that came to Athin’s mind to describe the woman he had come to grow fond of. But the emotions he sensed did not fit into what he knew of her and as he gazed at her once more, he was shocked at what he saw. Not a Jedi Master. Not a military commander. Not the powerful being he so often saw. Instead, he saw a human woman, scarred yet beautiful, determined yet scared, strong but faltering under the weight of responsibility and past ghosts.
Athin’s thoughts race as he attempts to process what he was witnessing and the implications of being allowed to see her in such a state. Anhiel turns her own eyes towards the man, causing him to waver slightly under the weight of her gaze, and even more so at the words she spoke in a vulnerable tone unlike her standard demeanor “The memories of my earliest years are foggy at best. Somehow, I came to reside on Nar Shadaa as a child. I do not know who my parents were and only possessed the name Anhiel as a result.” Athin remains silent as he listens to the woman’s words, leaning forward slightly in his chair. “One day, I encountered a Jedi while scavenging in the ward who turned out to be the Grandmaster of the enclave. He took me away from that wretched planet and personally trained me in the way of the grey. Shortly after I attained the rank of Knight, I met Dulci, a new Padawan in the enclave. As you know, I do not get close to many people. Yet Dulci was persistent and I found a sense of peace in her company. We grew quite close over many months until aid in the Great War was requested from our enclave by the main order.” Anhiel pauses, taking a deep breath as she reaches up with her hands to begin fidgeting with her ponytail, “My master had trained me to be prepared for war, should the need arise and placed me in charge of a small contingent of volunteers from the enclave. Despite my disagreement, Dulci volunteered. Before we departed, we met on a peak near to the enclave that I often used to meditate on. It is there that we forged our bond and I took a variation of Dulci’s name to be my surname.” Athin nodded slowly, taking in the words while Anhiel sat quietly. After a minute or so, he speaks softly “Dulcinae…I had wondered if the similarities were merely coincidence.” He pauses, lifting his head as confusion grows on his features “Did you say that you both intentionally forged the bond?” A slight nod of her head is the only response to the question. Astonished, he continued “I did not know that was even possible.” Without words, Anhiel gently pats the edge of the bed next to her while maintaining a forward gaze. The beat of Athin’s heart thunders in the Miraluka’s ears as he ponders the request, deciding after several long moments to rise from his seat and sit next to the woman. Without warning, Anhiel leans to her right, resting the right side of her face on Athin’s chest, just in front of his shoulder. The contact is shocking, but not nearly as shocking as the quiet sob that reaches his ears, causing the man to freeze. In a soft voice, the woman utters a pained statement into the Miraluka’s chest “She is dead because of me and I do not know how to let go.” Unsure on how to respond, Athin simply brings his right hand up and rests it gently on the back of Anhiel’s head, cradling her and feeling the silky strands of white and silver hair as he applies gentle pressure. The pair remains like this for nearly an hour, occasional soft sobs echoing in the room from Anhiel as Athin sorts through his own feelings.
Several hours later in a dimly lit room with a minimalist feel about it, frustration is building. The owner’s sleeping bunk is neatly made and off to the right of the room lit only by a small light where it is apparent that reading has been taking place. Adjacent to the seamless bed is a moderate size workstation adorned with a magnification lens and several tool pouches neatly rolled up and aligned in rows of three. A smaller table buts up to the workstation forming an L-shape with its top elevated and on an angle with manuscripts and books affixed to it. A young Jedi sits at the station with a work lamp beaming directly on her and an opened pouch illuminating a disassembled lightsaber. The Padawan intensely and frequently shifts her attention between the saber pieces and the manuscripts. “Why didn’t it work” she thought to herself, frustratedly. Her intensity of frustration blatantly gives away the fact that this was not her first attempt to mend the broken saber.
A beep rings at the door, barely heard through the ongoing conversation with herself. “You may enter” she exclaimed after overly stretching to reach the com button on the other side of her workstation. The durasteel door slid open with ease, allowing her master to step into the room. Rend appraises the young woman with a slight smile before addressing his young padawan. “Sun, what are you working on?” Wiping the sweat from her brow she responds, tiredly “I have been working on the saber that Master Joash gifted to me and I admit I am a bit lost. I have been reviewing all the manuscripts and books you gave me and it should work. Everything is there, the connections are good, the parts are in working condition as far as I can tell.” She ends with a heavy sigh as she sets her head in her hands. Rend responds with a slight smile, “Show me.”
Rend gathered a seat and situated it in a manner which allowed him to observe the entire workstation. Sun methodically starts to assemble the saber with the hands of a seasoned Jedi far beyond her years. First, she took the hilt frame and slid it into the hilt body, carefully connecting the igniter switch to the power supply. She then attaches the emitter and shroud to the hilt frame and is rewarded with a satisfying sound as the emitter gingerly snaps it onto the three alignment pins. Lastly, she places a very dark kyber crystal, nearly black save for the shimmer of green, a gift from her master when they departed Belloth, into the chamber on the hilt frame before sliding it all together and locking the pieces into one another. Sun spins around in her seat and takes a stance in the middle of the room. She depresses the igniter switch…. Nothing. The young padawan’s shoulders drop as she steps back to her seat, defeated. “I don’t know what I am doing wrong.” Sun says with a quivering voice. Rend reaches for the saber and examines her craftsmanship then replies, “What are these pieces left on your workstation?” Sun, with her head bowed in defeat, responds “Those were the damaged pieces. The old frame was fractured so I fashioned a new one from some items I requested when we stopped on Nar Kaaga. The power supply was bad, the igniter switch contacts were welded shut and I didn’t like the aesthetic of the old emitter shroud.” Rends confusion and pride contorted his face in such a way no one would know his feelings on the matter as he closely examines the hilt. The base color was very dark, with a texture resembling carbon fiber, with multiple angles around the center and wider ends with diamond shaped pattering. The newly crafted emitter shroud has four equally spaced diamond prongs, the middle points coming within a hair’s breadth of the surrounding prongs. “This is truly odd, I watched your every move and they were flawless, as are the pieces you fabricated. You are quite gifted, Padawan. And you are right, it should ignite. Remember though that Master Joash said he couldn’t get it to work, even after many attempts.” Sun lifted her head slightly encouraged from her master's appraisal, “Thank you, Master. I will disassemble it again and check every component until it works.”
The beep of a com opened up and the sound of an officer's voice filled the room, “General sir, your presence has been requested on the bridge.” Rend handed the saber to his padawan as he responded, “Understood. I will be there shortly.” He looks down at his young Jedi apprentice and addresses her, “If anyone can fix this saber, Sun, it’s you. Trust in the Force, Padawan. May the Force be with you.” Sun stares with a gleam in her eyes as new energy rushes through her “And with you, Master.”
Rend steps through the doorway and keys the door shut behind him. Sun conversing with herself again started contemplating her master’s encouraging words, “trust in the Force”. The statement continually repeats within her mind for many moments before Sun makes her way to the center of the room where she kneels and places the saber on the floor in front of her. The young Jedi closes her eyes and begins to expand her presence in the Force, focusing on the saber laying in front of her. Her brow begins to bead sweat as she concentrates on the dead weapon. It begins to rise from the floor, slowly turning and separating into the various pieces that make up the whole. Sun is now pouring sweat as she solely focuses on allowing the Force to flow through her. The weapon continues to separate and spin until its cure is evident. Deep inside the sabers integrated circuitry a cold joint is exposed. “That’s it!” Sun exclaims deep inside her mind. She now turns her focus to the joint in particular, resulting in an increase in heat causing the solder to move, completing the circuit. The saber, as slowly and gently as it had come apart, started to reassemble itself until it was complete. The hilt drops into the Padawan’s hand as she rises to her feet, drenched from the crown of her head to the tips of her boots. She breathes heavily from the exertion while looking over the weapon, filled with equal parts anxiety and excitement as she depresses the igniter switch. The saber screams to life, exhibiting its rich green blade which casts its glow upon her face. The hum of the blade fills the room as Sun opens her eyes, full of tears which glisten on top of her equally deep green irises, “I did it!” She admires the blade for several minutes, taking a few careful swings as well before extinguishing it and running from the room in the direction of the bridge.
In a room a dozen meters down the hall, Mirr Styn sits quietly at a table, reviewing a datapad. He still wears his armor, save for the helmet that sits on the table, revealing the face of a man in his late thirties. Small scars adorn his features and his hair is cut in a short, even fashion. On the datapad are scans of a nearby planet in Hutt space called Nar Kanji. On the surface is a waypoint signifying the wreckage of a Sith Capital ship out in a barren area of the planet. Mirr zooms in on the site, taking note of the nearby bandit compounds until his concentration is broken by a knock on the metal door. He sets the datapad down and moves to the door, keying it open, revealing Anhiel clad in her white uniform with her standard expression in place, leaving no hint of the emotional events from a few hours prior. Mirr inclines his head gently, “Ah, General. You have saved me the effort of trying to locate you.” Anhiel folds her hands behind her back, underneath her cape, “I am here to discuss how you intend to gain our trust.” The Mandalorian nods, stepping to the side and beckoning for her to enter. “The reason for your appearance at Nar Kaaga was to gather supplies, correct?” The Admiral nods, remaining silent, allowing Mirr to continue. “There is a crashed Sith capital ship in the next system over. For the most part, it should be relatively intact. Including the fuel. The bandits located on the planet do not possess the equipment or skill to harvest the most valuable components.” The skepticism on Anhiel’s face is apparent, causing Mirr to pass the datapad to the woman. She reviews the data quietly for a couple minutes, scrolling and zooming in as necessary to evaluate the area before she speaks flatly “And you feel this would be a worthwhile venture?” Mirr nods, his expression flat as he responds, “You have made it clear my life depends on it. Would I suggest it if I did not believe it was worthwhile?” Anhiel looks over the datapad once more before returning it to the Mandalorian, “Very well. We shall adjust course at once. Provide a list of personnel and equipment you feel is required to acquire the resources. We do not have much time remaining before we must begin our journey to our final destination.” Mirr nods once more, pulling up a fresh page on the datapad “As you wish, General”.