Star Wars: Dark Future

"Are you all right, Anakin?" The question came from a mildly concerned Dark Woman, as I felt much of the organic detritus atop me being lifted away with the Force. Unfortunately, my Master's telekinesis could do nothing about the thirteen cue-ball sized seed-partners adhering to various parts of me. 

I could have easily bounced to my feet, or used the Force to lift myself up, but I was concerned for the safety of a couple seeds stuck high on the back of my left leg, and a third just above the back of my right knee on the opposite leg. 

Most of the others dotted my chest and stomach, but one was adhering to the right side of my neck in a way that was downright painful.

"I'm unhurt, Master, but concern for the many seed-partners presently adhering to me is making it difficult to rise on my own. I could definitely use a hand up." 

I hadn't replied until I'd considered my various options as my Master undoubtedly would have wanted me to do in the absence of real danger, but asking for her help in getting to my feet seemed the simplest solution. 

It was also the option that seemed least likely to offend the natives overseeing this ceremony. This morning upon rising, we'd been lead into this chamber with no explanation beyond our presence inside this room being an integral part of the ship-fashioning process. 

Instructions to remain where we were upon reaching the chamber's center had followed, as our guides exited the huge stone room and closed the doors behind them. Only for hundreds, if not thousands of these seed-orbs to subsequently rain down on the both of us from somewhere above us. 

Once the rain of seeds had finally stopped, the doors had quickly reopened, and our guide had reentered the room accompanied by another Ferroan to explain the seed-partners adhering to the two of us were those which had chosen to become part of our ship-to-be.

While my Master's strong hands caught me beneath each arm and hoisted me easily to my feet, I caught the surprise and excitement roiling off the pair of aliens in waves. 

While the woman came up beside Dark Woman and began persuading the powerfully adhered seed-partners to drop from the Jedi Master's body into her waiting hands for subsequent placement in the large rectangular dark green cask she carried beneath her right arm, our guide Fallnir explained the reason for their surprise and excitement. 

His deep tenor taking on a respectful, almost reverent tone as he did so.

"We've very seldom seen more than three seed-partners adhere to one client-designer. Not even the oldest of the Jhentari Shapers will have heard of thirteen choosing one client, and certainly not when a collaborator-client was also chosen by an additional seven seed-partners. 

Twenty of Zonama Sekot's children joining together can only mean a vessel of truly great significance is about to be created. 

You should both be honored to be touched by the Potentium so." Fallnir looked and sounded like a man in the grip of a religious experience, and a glance at the woman who'd just freed me from the seed tugging on my neck revealed pretty much the same reaction in her.

Instinctively, I closed myself off from the emotions of the Ferroans. Their religious awe had felt cloying, almost suffocating to me, and I wanted no part of it. I hadn't missed Dark Woman's small frown at the mention of this Potentium by our guides, and made a note to inquire about it. 

This was a woman who could remain as tranquil as a cloudless summer sky while savagely drubbing me into reddened and blistered incoherency during lightsaber training, so anything which troubled her was worth knowing about.

Dark Woman offered a diplomatic platitude which seemed to satisfy our expectant guides, and then we were off to a design library to meet with one of these mysterious Shapers. I was carrying the big wooden box full of seed orbs, of course.

"Before enlightenment: Chop Wood, Carry Water. After Enlightenment: Chop Wood, Carry Water" I wryly murmured as we walked. Low enough the Ferroans ahead of us wouldn't hear me, but just loud enough my Master would. 

She shot me one of those too rare, ever so brief grins I pried out of her whenever I'd surprised her with a bit of wit one definitely wouldn't expect from a twelve year old, so I answered with a grin of my own and a bit more spring in my step. Convincing her to relax and enjoy the process of training me was always an uphill battle, but one I never stopped fighting.

My Master controlled the pain Aurra Sing's fate continued to cause her, well, masterfully, but with every day that passed I could see a little deeper into her feelings. 

Sensing more clearly the struggle between her reason which continued to (rightly) declare Sing's tragic fate had always been beyond her power to prevent, and a constant stream of guilt and regret that murmured to her as effectively as emotion always did against reason. Looking at my Master's too brief smile just then, it was as if a veil I hadn't even realized was obscuring my vision had suddenly fallen away. 

Granting me a clarity of insight so sharp it was an exquisite pain, as the myriad "onion layers" of constantly shifting emotions which had always before refused to coalesce into a meaningful picture became as easy to perceive and extrapolate intent from as numbers were used to perform basic arithmetic.

My head swam, and I nearly stumbled as I quickly wrenched my focus away from my Master's emotions. I had peered deeply enough for my sight to be a kind of violation, but it was more than that disquieting realization which made my stomach churn. 

I'd watched and listened to scenes where Jedi and Sith did exactly this to friend and foes alike countless times in my old life, but somehow I'd never internalized the reality of such a capability. 

Vader picking Leia's existence from Luke by sharpening his focus on the young Jedi's fear for and desire to protect his sibling took on entirely new overtones, now. 

Ones which made me feel naked, as I realized my Master, Master Jinn, and likely even Obi-Wan had all been able to read me just like this until Dark Woman had ground the necessity of keeping my Thought Shield raised so constantly it had become nearly as involuntary as breathing. 

Something she'd done by gleaning everything embarrassing she could from me each time I permitted my Thought Shield to slip, then throwing such purloined secrets back at me as humiliating barbs to encourage me to greater diligence regarding my thoughts and feelings.

It was the closest I'd come to hating her. Until she'd quietly informed me one day "If you mean to make a Jedi Guardian, as you have so often told me, then there is no more necessary a technique to be mastered than the Thought Shield. 

A true master of a great many Sense abilities can invalidate tens of thousands of hours of lightsaber training with a single glance, or a moment's concentration, if you cannot keep your thoughts, feelings, and intentions to yourself.

It was only then it occurred to me my own perceptions were apparently piercing my Master's own Thought Shield without difficulty. Sending a chill down my spine, as the implications spooled out before me. My own Sense-based abilities had obviously just leaped forward. 

Dark Woman had warned me that due to my entry into adolescence, I would soon experience profound changes in my connection to the Force as my training continued, but this was frighteningly abrupt. 

It also made me wonder even more about the fuzzy webs of glowing fractal lines I'd been perceiving in people, places, and things at random for weeks now, but no additional insight into those webs seemed to have arrived just yet.

Fallnir and the woman (Linnae, I'd finally teased her name from her via the Force because I always felt awkward asking people for their given names) had just lead us through a four-way intersection, when another Ferroan man came hurrying up to the pair from somewhere down the rightmost fork. 

He conferred with Fallnir in hushed tones for perhaps thirty seconds, then hurried back the way he'd originally come. 

I couldn't help noticing how anxious and unhappy the man had seemed for someone delivering a message, but quickly found out why.

"Before you meet with the Shaper who will be working with you for the remainder of the project, our Magister requests a brief meeting with the two of you." Fallnir's tone making it clear that the word "requests" was being used in place of "demands" only to maintain the appearance of good manners. 

The tall, powerfully built middle aged man did seem genuinely apologetic over this turn of events, but it was clear we weren't being given a choice.

"We would be delighted to speak with your Magister. Wouldn't we, Anakin?" Dark Woman courteously responded. It was a less than subtle nudge, but I reminded myself again that she saw a twelve year old when she looked at me.

Still reeling from a stunning immersion in the web of connections between my Master's deepest emotions, motives and intentions, I struggled to frame a suitable reply. 

"It, it would be an honor to meet the man who began all of this." I offered with a great effort. Using my teacher's lessons to ground and center myself before continuing. 

Fallnir was so happy the strange clients were going along with the demands made of them, he simply bobbed his head gratefully and began leading us through the complex's many twists and turns once more. This was followed by us marching up several flights of honest to the Force stairs. Literally the first I'd seen in this galaxy. 

The three of us eventually fetched up in front of two great double-doors. Each elaborately carved with symbols which seemed to mean something to Dark Woman, but were all just nonsense to me. Opening the rightmost door, our guide saw us through the portal, then closed it behind us as he departed.

...

I'll appreciate if you guys can throw some power stones to keep the story going.

=========================

if you want to read ahead of the public release you can go to p@treon :

 [email protected]/Rage_moon