Ahsoka Tano felt peace flow through every inch of her being, from montral tip to toes and everything in between. She tasked her breathing, a rhythmic cadence of deep inhales and exhales as she felt her spirit drawn into the realm of the Force itself. Slowly opening her eyes, she saw herself, her corporeal self, kneeling before her and let herself drift into the openness of the slowed currents of the Force. Splaying her arms wide with outstretched fingers she sought to let those currents course through them, adding her own peaceful intentions to the fold through thought alone. Within seconds she felt a gentle wake, an eddying effect as Kowani clumsily reached out to grasp her hand. Ahsoka gently willed the Mirialan’s hand closer to her own, grasping her wrist firmly. The perception of movement was as welcome to Ahsoka within the realm of the Force as it was discombobulating to Kowani.
“You make this look so easy.” Kowani whispered into Ahsoka’s mind, “will I ever get the hang of it?”
“Patience Ani, it takes years of practice, but your advancing well beyond the few months we’ve been working on it.” Ahsoka said gently in return. “If only you were a quicker study with the saber.” She finished smiling as she looked deep into the spirit form of her pupil, her body translucent as her conscience mind and subconscious thought melded into a form of cohesion. “Remember, it’s easier if you focus on keeping your eyes closed. See with your thoughts, with your mind, rather than your eyes. Especially here.” Ahsoka waited, watching patiently as Kowani struggled with the suggestion but eventually released the tension in her expression, her lips pulling up into a prideful smile.
“I’ve been working on that specifically.” Kowani added with another whisper, her voice wavering as she heard herself. She attempted to shake her head in some minor form of self-condemnation but was only rewarded with a dizzying sensation that threatened to return her to her mortal self.
Ahsoka offered no insight nor reprimand, ‘she needs to figure this out for herself.’ She thought.
“That could take a while.” T’zar said, snapping Ahsoka out of her observation. She turned to see the spirit form of her symbiotic companion in his majestic purple skinned nakedness sit cross-legged aside both herself and Kowani.
“What could take a while? And where the hell have you been?” Kowani asked, almost letting her concentration slip again.
“Meditating Ani. As you now are.” T’zar responded. “Your improving I see.” He added his own observation, “your still with us and your mortal self isn’t spewing sick all over the cargo bay.”
Kowani felt the beginnings of the compliment die into the jab she knew was coming. “T’zar. It is you that I think we should seek.” Kowani began, ignoring the slight and following through with her earlier intention. “We’ve run into dead ends, stronghanded resistance and far too many questions in your absence.” She spoke from the heart, surprising herself with the truth of her statement as well as her focus on not turning the Zeltran into a spiritual mystic. “The three of us….” She couldn’t find the right word, “just flow.” She finished as she concentrated on their surroundings and reason for being here. “We need you T’zar...I need you.” She struggled with the words, not for content but for the emotion they were eliciting.
Ahsoka, nodding her head with pride, could not have phrased that more appropriately. She remained silent, observing Kowani’s initiative.
“You’re as much a part of this family as we are.” Ahsoka knew Kowani was speaking from the heart. “You were instrumental in helping me learn Mando’a, not to mention your assistance with my saber forms.” Kowani continued.
T’zar had nothing to say, only staring off into the distance of the Force void, his wide lidless eyes blank.
“Where have you been?” Kowani finally asked.
“I...I...didn’t know you felt so strongly Ani…” T’zar stammered out the words, twisting them awkwardly through lack of experience he assumed, complete and utter lack of experience.
“I am sorry if I have done a poor job of expressing my appreciation for your efforts, but, more importantly, that of your place among us.” Kowani responded.
“No apology is necessary Ani. I know of your appreciation and will continue to assist when and where I can.” He paused for a moment considering his own truth. “There is something transpiring within the Force itself Ani.” His words trailing off as they left him, leaving a baleful silence between the three of them.
“I have felt it T’zar.” Ahsoka spoke up, admitting aloud a deep suspicion she hadn’t even wanted to admit.
“What does it….that….even mean?” Kowani asked, confused and more than a little upset with herself over her lack of comprehension.
“It means that something is changing Ani.” Ahsoka began, “something that I can’t describe or explain.”
“It’s a feeling.” T’zar added, trying to direct Ani toward a sense he knew she could relate to. “Not of elation or foreboding, yet not of status quo either.” His voice adopted a slight echo as Kowani’s perception wavered. “My absence was merely an effect of my own observations, to come to your point.” He turned to face Ahsoka, “it is not a convergence.” He addressed the thought in Ahsoka’s mind. “It is as if the Force itself is reaching out.” He paused again, his eyes mournful, “guiding us toward it’s needs.”
“A place?” Kowani interjected.
T’zar turned to face her, “perhaps. Perhaps not, that remains elusive.”
Ahsoka screwed up her face, Kowani understanding that the Togruta was extending her reach to its limits. Within seconds her face contorted, expressing… ‘fear?’ Kowani thought.
“It is in distress, as this galaxy is, yet it is something deeper. Something has happened, whether old or new, that is creating a void within the Force itself….a void it cannot penetrate.” Ahsoka spoke slowly, trying to match words with feelings.
“I don’t understand.” Kowani said in frustration.
“Perhaps that isn’t the point Ani.” T’zar surprised them in response, Ahsoka turning toward him.
“Then what is T’zar?” Ahsoka asked, her tone uncharacteristically deep, almost portentous.
The Zeltran rotated his head slowly to face her, “you already know the answer Ahsoka, you do yourself no favor, nor the rest in your company, by refusing to face it.”
Kowani could do nothing but stare at the both, clearly missing the point. She knew Ahsoka, despite her many virtues, remained purposefully silent on some matters, matters that T’zar was distinctly referring to. “At what point is trust earned Ahsoka?” She said with slight hesitation.
Ahsoka bowed her head, “the Force flows through me freely, yet I deny myself it’s embrace in its entirety.”
Kowani was becoming more agitated by the second, T’zar picking up the somatic clues outlining as such, “Ani, there is no peace when one is not willing to forgive themselves.”
Ahsoka turned her expression inward, lowering her brow even farther. Kowani opened her mouth to speak but could only stare at the Togruta...in what? Sorrow? Pity? Those sentiments required context. Bewilderment was a better fit.
“It is a conglomeration of ineffectiveness stemming back decades. Anakin. His son. Ezra. The loss of Obi-wan. Yes, I’ve faced each of them in turn but to say that I’ve moved past them all completely is a lie.”
“Ani, she has known nothing but conflict her entire life. Not just some form of inner turmoil mind you, I speak of galactic war since she was a youngling. Ahsoka struggles with defining whom she is because there is no template for comparison. She would love nothing more than to embrace ambivalence but that is not in her nature, so she fights it, or more accurately, it fights her.” T’zar spoke Ahsoka’s thoughts, the unspoken words she couldn’t even manage to put together if she ‘wanted’ to share them.
Kowani was beginning to understand the dilemma from a perspective, a point of view, which was not her own, yet common sense would not be denied. “Why fight it at all? You are who you are Ahsoka. Nobody gets to decide who that is except you. Nobody.”
Ahsoka lifted her chin, a sly grin pulling at the corners of her lips, “This is why I asked you to take the lead. My sight is clouded, not through the Force mind you, but internally.” She paused as she looked at Kowani, seeing confusion begin to dissipate but sorrow take its place. “Do you remember our conversation with Master Yoda?”
Kowani couldn’t hide her smile, even in ethereal form, “of course I do.”
“His comments regarding the ‘Father’ have been on my mind lately.” Ahsoka responded, her brow furrowing in thought. “At the time I understood his inference. However, now, I feel it has taken on more meaning than I had ever thought. Do you know of Bendu?” Ahsoka asked.
Kowani felt as though she were a child listening to playful stories atop her mother’s lap, she could only shake her head from side to side, “Who is Bendu?” She asked.
“Bendu is not a he or she, more them. It is a collective consciousness centered on ambivalence. ‘They’ guide the Force through action but in most cases non action. ‘They’ are neither living nor dead.” She said turning slightly to nod toward T’zar. “The Bendu collaborate on what must be done to further the progression of time, facilitate a natural order in other words.”
“We leave what should or should not be done for others to toil with.” T’zar added, turning his head upward. “Ahsoka is non-committal in her stance on the matter and is thus in turmoil.”
Kowani stewed them both with glaring eyes, her mind only partially comprehending, warring with her heart and soul for clarification. “Why must she choose anything? Her life is her own.”
“Agreed.” T’zar said immediately, turning toward Ahsoka once again. “As I’ve counseled from the beginning.”
Ahsoka turned from them both, staring blankly out into nothingness.
“The choice will always be yours Ahsoka. Bring closure to your strife and let your past go. The boy is not your responsibility.” T’zar’s words were heartfelt and passionate.
Kowani looked to him, “Ezra?”
“Luke.” Ahsoka said, gathering their attention.
Kowani’s eyes shot open in plain surprise, they had spoken little of Anakin’s son since Dagobah, “You’ve been carrying that with you this whole time?” She said, the look of shock dissipating, transferring to compassion and understanding.
Ahsoka swung her gaze toward them both again, “Yes.” Because there was nothing more to add. “Ezra is a promise I intend to fulfill. Luke is a promise I feel I should have made.”
“Ahsoka, you are not Bendu, you will never be Bendu.” T’zar whispered before them all.
“I am not Jedi, nor Sith either am I T’zar.” She replied, her tone somewhat bitter and pointed.
“Why does that matter?” Kowani interrupted.
Ahsoka sighed heavily, “Ani, I am finding it difficult to determine my purpose to be honest. We can delay and undermine the Empire for only so long. They will discover echo base at some point no matter how much we divert their gaze from it.”
“Ezra isn’t purpose enough. We aren’t enough?” Kowani asked, a spark of anger beginning to take hold. “You speak of being clouded, so find your own clarity. You don’t owe anyone anything Ahsoka. That is the lesson you need to learn.”
Ahsoka swiveled again to face T’zar, finding him nodding in agreement with the Mirialan. “Sometimes.” Kowani began again then paused, “depth isn’t the answer when simplicity is ignored outright.”
Without warning T’zar turned his head as if searching for some distant shout. Without explanation he fired to his feet and tilted his head with a suddenness that took both Ahsoka and Kowani by complete surprise. “She has awoken.”
Both Ahsoka and Kowani continued staring at the Zeltran, waiting for something more elaborate, “That’s cryptic.” Kowani finally said after a few moments.
“My observations were warranted, something is happening.” He said.
“Not much better.” Ahsoka chimed in.
T’zar quickly spun to face them both, the movement so fluid it seemed to have not happened at all, “We must go to Ambria.”
Kowani turned her own gaze to Ahsoka, finding the Togruta meeting her halfway, “Ambria? Why?” They both converged on the questions simultaneously.
“Someone has awoken Zannah.” T’zar said, neither of them able to determine if the missive was righteous or a portent of doom.
✦
Kalla rested her hand upon Conda’s knee, surprising him in the process as she leaned in closer to whisper in his ear, “you are Imperial.”
Her thick fingers felt oddly warm, almost inviting Conda thought as he processed the comment. “Was.” Because nothing more was warranted.
“Many of those here were.” She said in return, the accented basic sounding almost melodic to his ears.
Conda scanned his surroundings slowly and methodically, seeing the same gleeful expressions as before but focusing on their owners a little deeper. Human female with short brown hair held tightly about her back by large male Devaronian hands. Interlocked hands between an Aqualish couple, their offspring laying on their respective laps, a small Callux pup curled up close to the youngling’s chest. Numerous Twi’lek and Human couples of varying genders, their children playing hand games with each other as they counted out taps against their legs and proffered hands to be slapped by one another. The scene was the same wherever he looked. He turned his gaze to Kalla beside him, leaning closer as he did so, “Where are we going?”
Conda had never heard genuine Iktochi laughter before, he surmised, as the most comparable sound he could compare it was the mating calls of male Sprig Boars on his native Toprawa. The sound was almost offensive to his ears, but he stifled his reaction enough to bypass embarrassment. Kalla began to draw in deep breaths as the laughter subsided, “We.” She began motioning toward the others in the cargo hold, “are headed for our next home.” Her grin was authentic as she mouthed the words, “you,” she paused again lifting her fingers from his knee to point at his chest, “will need to speak with Vossy before you go anywhere.”
Conda wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Her comment was phrased bluntly, no inflections or pause of tongue to eschew doubt in his mind. What he couldn’t stop thinking about was how much he had enjoyed her hand on his knee, and how much he missed its absence. ‘How stupid.’ He thought to himself. He wanted to press the avenue of questions further, to formulate his own understanding, but to also continue hearing her exotic accent. ‘How very stupid Conda.’ He thought again to himself. He felt her arm move next to him and dropped his gaze involuntarily, seeing her hand dive into a well-worn leather pouch cinched around her waist. “What is that?” He asked to divert his own obtuse thoughts.
Kalla looked toward him seeing his own eyes fixated on her waist. She smiled briefly, “it is Iktoch.” Conda lifted his gaze to look into her deep brown eyes, “we take our home with us.” She smiled again and turned her attention to the top of Kattu’s head, pressing her chin into his hair as he slept in her lap.
Conda continued watching the two for a few moments before scanning the cargo hold once again, this time looking for other Iktochi. There was more than he had anticipated as he surveyed the hold in its entirety, each one hunched over, either in some meditative rest or slumber. The ones he could see clearly each had a hand in a similar leather pouch, their hands making small movements within. His mind was reeling as his subconscious began sending multiple reminders that his body was nearing its limits of functionality despite wanting to keep Kalla talking to him. He closed his eyes finally and let his mind create its own image of his surroundings as he felt the muscles in his body give way to relaxation. Without thinking the process through he rested his hand over the pouch at Kalla’s side, feeling her own hand within relax under the pressure. He pressed his head against the wall plating and sidled his backside farther down to get himself more comfortable. He felt her hand withdraw from the pouch and its warmth once again consume him as Kalla placed it over his, slowly rubbing the powdery substance from within the pouch into the light brown skin of his hand. He did not protest.
✦
Conda woke to silence, opening his eyes slowly to find himself the lone passenger in the cargo hold. Everything looked the same as he cast furtive glances in all directions except for the lack of passengers. He made a move to stand, feeling an intense protest from his muscles, a quick reflexive glance toward the offending parties told him his pack was missing. Forgetting the pain and shaking through the grogginess, he fumbled all about himself for the item to no avail.
“Relax human. Your items will be returned to you.” A masculine voice informed him.
Conda looked around to locate its source to find a pair of heavy boots descending an access ladder from the levels above as three of the Iktochi strode in from an access hatch at the fore of the cargo hold. They assembled at the foot of the ladder as a heavily cloaked figure reached the deck plating with a thud. “You are safe here.” The figure said, turning to face him.
Conda’s mind raced, fight was not an option nor was flight and diplomacy was not his forte. He decided to do the listening for the time being.
“Your hesitation is warranted human; however, I assure you, there is no safer place in the galaxy.” The figure continued speaking as it strode closer to where Conda knelt, the Iktochi in tow.
Conda felt the hesitation the voice spoke of but for lack of context if nothing else, the assurances of safety even less so. “Where’s my pack?” Was all he could muster.
The figure was a meter away from him when it stopped and seated itself on the floor with a mild grunt of exertion. Conda continued to watch warily as the figure raised its arms to remove the deep cowl crowing its head. As it pulled back, Conda was greeted by a man’s chin, the same color as his own skin, a smile already present. Full removal of the cowl unveiled dark coils of hair lined with streaks of grey framing the brown skin of the man’s face, his dark eyes underlined by a yellow tattoo. ‘Kiffu?’ Conda thought. The wrinkles at the man’s brow and crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes spoke of his age, but the man emanated a youthful exuberance through expression alone.
“Your items have not been disturbed, only sequestered until such time as we could explore them together.” The man said.
‘What the hell does that mean?’ Conda thought to himself. “Where is Kalla?”
The man before him smiled brightly as he half turned behind him, “I am here.” Came Kalla’s familiar voice from the same access hatch the other Iktochi had emerged. Conda looking past the man toward the one visage of familiarity he could relate to. He felt his heart surge and his nerves calm as she came closer to their position, his pack slung over her shoulder.
“So happy to see me?” She said as she fell to both knees between the two men, a playful smile stretching across her face as she gazed into his eyes.
Conda rebuked externally, not wanting to give affection credence under the scrutiny of so many. Internally, however, he was smiling broadly, finding her expression soothing for lack of a better term. Her dark eyes a mystery to him, one that he would give himself to, fully, in exploration, her cranial horns exotic in the same manner as her accent. He did his best to shake off the nonsense inside, it wasn’t helping his present situation he knew.
The man coughed subtly to get Conda’s attention as he reached for the pack in Kalla’s grasp.
Conda felt the rush of embarrassment flush through his cheeks as it had registered that his internal stewing was clearly having outward effects.
“My name is Quinlan Vos. What is yours Toprawan?” The man said.
‘Quinlan Vos….Quinlan...Vos.’ The name was familiar to Conda, although he couldn’t place it. “Conda.”
“Just Conda?” Vos asked.
‘No,’ Conda thought, “yes.”
Vos only harumphed into his chest, knowing full well ‘Conda’ was all he was going to learn...now. “Have you ever heard of retrocognition?” Conda’s blank stare told him all he needed to know. “Conda.” Vos began, “I was once a Jedi.”
For some reason Conda knew that already, the hints and details dropped from Kattu notwithstanding, it was knowledge on a deeper level that told him as much. He could not explain how or even why he felt he already knew, just that he did.
“As you were once Imperial.” Vos continued, Conda’s gaze shifting from the aged Kiffar to Kalla with intents on communicating betrayal, yet her smile erased all thoughts of subterfuge. “Yes Conda, Kalla informed me, but came immediately to your defense with her premonitions.”
‘What in the stars is happening?’ Conda thought. “Premonitions, Retroc….retrogc...that word you said….where is this going?” He blankly thought about asking them to take him home to Toprawa, realizing how egregious both the action and statement would sound.
“Iktochi have a gift for premonitions, cognitive abilities that allow them to see into the future with limitations. I can see into the past. Do you see where this is going?” Vos replied.
Conda understood fully after the explanation, his immediate future, and the bigger picture both coming into full view. “You would be one step ahead of...well...everyone.”
Vos flicked another smile across his face, the act pulling up the tiny wrinkles at his eyes playfully. The image reminded Conda of his father’s brother, his favorite uncle with whom they would explore the forests back home together.
“That’s the idea anyway. It has met with favorable success.” Vos said through his genuine expression, turning slightly to the three strangers, “This is Chalma.” He continued with an open hand toward the first of the three Iktochi newcomers, “Holda and Braktu.” He finished, pointing out the trio.
Conda simply raised a hand in recognition to them, wishing they could just come to the damn point.
“We ask that you remove the items from the pack and hand them to us.” Vos continued.
“Do so in a random manner Conda.” Kalla said to him gently.
‘At last, progress.’ Conda thought as he took the pack from her grasp and darted a hand inside, his eyes still fixated on Kalla’s. The immediate crunch of the thermal blanket greeted him, “All the items?” He asked, wondering how long it would take if that were the case.
“Only the ones you choose to share Conda.” Kalla answered.
He felt some relief from that, trying to keep himself from swallowing hard knowing full well the light saber was just under his fingertips. He fished around it for the time being clamping his hand around the black under suit gloves and helmet clip belonging to his very recent past. With genuine hesitation he withdrew the items, realizing that he was the only one that expressed any surprise. How odd the adornments of an Imperial trooper seemed in his hands now, how useless the clip was, how uniform the gloves had been. He passed them without thinking on them for too long into the outstretched hands of Quinlan Vos, watching as the man closed his eyes in stern concentration. Several nods and a follow up grimace accented with an audible groan grabbed Conda’s attention.
Vos opened his eyes to stare deeply into Conda’s, “what you’ve been through...the actions you felt you had to take...I feel for you Conda. Those are decisions that would have rocked the Jedi to their foundations ages past.” Vos said, placing the items on the deck plating gently before reaching for Conda’s own hands.
Conda stared at the man as his comments hit home, stirring those past actions to the forefront of his thought. Was this the point then, to make him relive his nightmares? Kalla could sense the tension within the man, moving closer to close her hand around his shoulder.
“You see Conda, your future is in your own hands despite the four of us deciphering multiple paths it could take.” Kalla began with her gentle tone, “We have conferred, and with Vossy’s blessing, offer you a place among us. We are farmers Conda, nothing more. But our efforts extend beyond our own immediate needs. There are many in our number who rely on what we can accomplish through our efforts. You bring a unique skill set to that equation, but only if that is your will.” She finished. He didn’t sense or infer any feeling of motivation or manipulation on her part as her harmonic accent echoed through his own mind, only that of a kinship of sorts that he felt himself.
“You’ve been removed, unwillingly, from a family you may or may not see again Conda.” Vos interjected plainly. “What we have here is another chance at that for you, for all of us in fact.” Conda understood immediately the man was referencing Toprawa. “What I’ve been able to see through your offering is simply the path of a man who had no choices. You have that freedom now.” Vos continued and moved in one fluid motion to bring himself to his feet. He turned to leave the way he had come but stopped after a few steps and half turned behind him, “Although I profess to not know what one is, Kalla here insists that we would benefit from having an ecologic biologist in our midst.” His voice teeming with humor but genuine, nonetheless.
Conda speared Kalla with his gaze, only to find her smile that damn smile of hers again, shattering any pretensions he had ready to unload. With a sigh of resignation, he pushed himself off the deck plating, doing his best to mitigate his own smile that threatened to betray his ambivalent intentions, “wait.” He called out to the departing Quinlan Vos as he crammed his hand back into the pack and wrapped it around the bound leather. “Here.” He extended the item in his grasp.
Vos closed the distance between them with deliberate steps, eyes on the bundle of leather. With hesitation he reached out to trace his fingers over the leather straps, relying on Conda to hold the actual item for the time being. Conda watched as Vos closed his eyes then contort his face into a miasma of expression, settling on a gentle smile once again pulling on the corners of his lips, “One clever Togruta.” The man said blowing out a breath and raising his free hand to grasp the item with both hands. Conda looked to the assembled Iktochi as they maneuvered into position around the Kiffar, all of them sharing glances, grimaces, and shocked expressions. With a nod from the quartet, Quinlan Vos unwrapped the saber from its leather bindings and let it roll into the flesh of his palm. The man immediately dropped to a knee and let forth an anguished gasp as if the saber hilt were fire in his hands. Conda heard the torment in the Kiffar’s cry as it echoed throughout the cargo hold. The Iktochi conjoined themselves around the man, placing a hand on the one next to them and a hand on Vos’ shoulder, and began to wail their own somber lament. Conda was at a loss to explain what he was witnessing, the forces and powers at work beyond his comprehension. Just as suddenly as the audio assault had begun it ended, Vos on both knees clutching at his chest, the Iktochi in various stances of complete exhaustion. Conda looked to Kalla who was breathing heavily, and raced to her side, placing his head under the arm she had splayed for support. He pushed up with his strained legs, taking on her full weight in support as her head lolled to rest on his shoulder. She reached a hand up to cup his cheek as she tilted her head back to look into his eyes. “What just happened? Are you ok?” He said frantically.
“Will be.” She said slowly between breaths.
He placed his free hand on the side of her head, pressing it back down onto his shoulder gently. “Shhh. Shhh. I’ve got you.” He found himself saying, realizing only then that his actions had been borne from instinct and reaction rather than thought. ‘What the hell am I doing?’ He asked himself as he felt her take him up on his offer, pressing her full weight into him. Conda, assured that Kalla would be fine, looked to the others, Vos in particular, as the Kiffar had his gaze trained on him. “Vos...what just happened? What did you see?” He asked, looking into the vacuum of Vos’ gaze.
Vos continued staring at him without uttering a word, inhaling ragged breaths, a slight line of drool slipping from the corner of his mouth. With a trembling hand, Vos lifted an arm to wipe it away, “Truth.” Was all he managed to say.