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KYBER-PUNK 22BBY Ch.30
🕑 Added 2025-10-27 22:48:46 +0000 UTC[Mission Altered, Peace Reassessed]
— Ani —
“Padme?” Ani asked, worry in her voice. “Are you… okay…? You’ve been… quiet.”
It was the morning after their visit to the Freed Refuge. The morning after listening to all of those stories shared by Ani’s siblings through Mighty Leia. The morning after that terrible but necessary awakening, not just for Padme, but for all of them.
Ani didn’t like the heavy, uncertain, and almost broken silence from her angel… but she did understand it. She was feeling much the same, if she was honest with herself. The truth of chains in Hutt Space was… so much worse than she could’ve known.
Her sleep had been marred by nightmares. Some old. Some new. Trauma she knew well was responsible for half of them, brought back to the fore and kicked into hyperspace by the stories they heard the day before. The other half of her nightmares were vague and flickering, clouded and driven by darkness to come. Potential premonitions that faded as soon as she woke, leaving only her mother’s name on her tongue (“Mo-…!”).
Still, Ani got up and forced herself to go through her usual routine. Stretches, the moving meditations she found worked best for her, and a general settling back into the waking Force. Only a vaguely ominous feeling in the Force remained from her nightmares when she was done, and as she looked out the window of her assigned room, out over Night City and Free Nar Shaddaa, that feeling abruptly vanished like smoke on the horizon.
‘On Coruscant, it would’ve lingered…’ Ani thought, emerging from her room to find breakfast and her companions.
Being here was… different, for reasons Ani couldn’t quite place. There was a weight to the Force here. Just like on Coruscant. But there, it was a weight of destiny, Ani felt — thrumming, beating, and biding its time, patient and inevitable. Here, the weight was one of pure potential, of courses yet to be charted, of change happening and more to be had, still.
Free Nar Shaddaa’s unique weight in the Force, Ani thought, was embodied best by Atom, his Gonks, and all they’d done. The inevitable had been broken here. The status quo, utterly overturned. Nar Shaddaa was free now, free from Hutt chains.
It was a spectacular and unprecedented thing. But Ani also realized that their mission had the (very real) potential to upset all the good being done, to drag all of this glorious change back down to the inevitable, the futile frustration that Ani unfortunately knew best.
… Padme had set out for peace, with only good intentions in her heart. But peace, here… would only ruin something special, Ani felt. Peace would invite the Hutts back in, with all of their depredations and chains. Peace would neuter a movement worth fighting for.
Not even Padme could convince Ani otherwise, not after hearing the dreadful realities of her siblings’ stories, shared freely in the Freed Refuge. She truly looked up to Padme’s firm belief in peace, loved that about her…
But it wasn’t what she believed. Ani was more than ready to accept the necessity of violence in the galaxy, especially if it brought change and freedom, hope and relief to Mighty Leia’s siblings. When no other option worked, sometimes, someone just needed to die. For true freedom to be had, for chains to be broken, Ani would salt every slug in the galaxy to gruesome, dry-boiled nothingness.
Because, truly, the Hutts were in a league of their own. Ani thought she knew… She didn’t know poodoo. No other masters measured up to the slugs’ crimes against Mighty Leia’s siblings.
For all that Ani had suffered under the chains of her youth, her siblings here in Hutt Space had suffered a hundred times more, and more directly, at that. They hadn’t had the option of slipping largely beneath the notice of the worst masters the galaxy had to offer. Ani had technically been chained by a Hutt, too, but it was before loathsome Watto, and she’d never actually met the infamous Gardulla to know how bad she and Mom could’ve had it.
All slaves — past, present, and future — were bound by their shared reality of chains. And while all chains were created equal, each set declared anathema against the freedom of Mighty Leia’s sky, some weighed heavier than others.
In contrast to the chains Ani had known, here, on Free Nar Shaddaa when it wasn’t Free, the slugs had been utterly unavoidable. They’d been free to be crueler than Ani’s worst fears. Encouraged, even, by the compounding rot of each Hutt packed together and pitted against each other in the competition of oppression and atrocity that was their very culture.
They were supreme in the core of their power, rivaled only by another Hutt. And it was her chained siblings in Hutt Space who suffered that unchallenged, parasitically fattened excess.
So, for the siblings here that she’d never met, Ani could only thank Atom and all he’d driven. It was a shame, she thought, that their mission there wasn’t one of aid in force. Ani would’ve been more than happy to get in on the action if she had the chance.
It was… all she’d ever dreamed of, to truly and effectively break the chains upon her siblings just as the chains upon her had been broken. But now, that wasn’t their mission. She and Obi-Wan were there as escorts. And Padme and Senator Organa were there seeking peace.
The divine act of breaking chains in Mighty Leia’s name… likely wasn’t on their agenda… Ani wished it were.
But for all Ani wished to be doing here, she would still follow her angel’s lead. This was Padme’s mission, even if Ani didn’t think the peace she sought was the correct course. For Padme’s sake, though, she stowed those doubts with some effort.
Her angel had the lead here, and she wasn’t blind. Padme’s thinking silence this morning confirmed that fact for Ani. Padme wouldn’t take all of the lessons and awakenings from the day before and do nothing with them. She wouldn’t. All Ani had to do was have faith. And faith in her angel had never been much to ask.
Padme sighed when Ani asked if she was okay, answering honestly, “I’m… not, Ani. I’m really not okay. This whole mission is already turning into a massive mess.”
“Yeah…” Ani quietly allowed. “But we’re still here, right? We can still do… something.”
“I had thought that ‘something’ would be peace,” Padme shared, completely open and vulnerable between the four of them. “A ceasefire, at least. I thought it would be the best way forward. Less death, less violence, I thought it was all senseless, in a way. Now… I’m seeing that my thoughts were optimistic, not truly grounded in the reality out here in Hutt Space.”
“It’s something you can only see for yourself,” Bail said. “Without confronting it personally, all of the darkness here is… hard to come to terms with. Impossible, even, for it doesn’t sound at all like the galaxy as we know it.”
“No, it’s so much worse,” Obi-Wan frowned. “I’ve seen many dark things in my life — genocidal plans and power games, fallen peers and true Sith — but I’m still struggling to comprehend the true depths of evil that Hutt Space can reach.”
“I feel like I need to apologize, Padme,” Ani bowed slightly, disappointed in herself. “I warned you about Hutt Space. I didn’t warn you enough…”
“You didn’t know, Ani,” Padme said with forgiveness and a tired tone to her voice. “None of us did… I don’t think anyone outside of Hutt Space truly does… Here, the truth is impossible to avoid, but outside, in the lives we live, it’s so very easy to ignore.”
“To be fair to them,” Bail said. “The Gonk Cartel has been trying to rectify that ignorance in the wider galaxy. They’ve been running a rather extensive informational campaign against their Hutt enemies. But while they’ve leaked terabytes of data there, it’s far from coherently organized, and thus, almost impossible to get the full picture without devoting professional resources toward putting that picture together.”
“Would you…?” Padme began to ask, trailing off.
Bail nodded, “I’ve issued orders for my people to begin working on it already. There will be a coherent picture to present to any who wish to see it. It’ll be an investigation the likes of which the galaxy has never seen. Project HUTT FILES is in motion, Padme, be sure of that.”
Ani blinked. A high-ranking senator was backing an investigation of unprecedented depth into the Hutts…? She knew Bail stood out as uniquely good among galactic senators (he was friends with Padme, and that alone was enough for her), but this was a step further, still. Ani couldn’t stop excitement from stirring within her chest, though. With the professional resources and legitimacy that a senator could bring to bear, these Hutt Files would be impossible to ignore.
Obi-Wan chuckled, asking, “The infamously rumored Alderaan Espionage Corps is stepping out of the shadows for this?”
“Why, Knight Kenobi, we are far from mere rumor,” Bail simply smiled, the expression purposefully, cuttingly civil in a way that sent strange shivers down Ani’s spine. “I assure you, almost any rumor you’ve heard of Alderaan’s hidden dagger is very real.”
Ani cocked her head at the way Obi-Wan paled. Her normally composed Master seemed shaken by that fact shared straight from the orbak’s mouth. Alderaan Espionage Corps…? They likely had one, Ani reasoned. Any power worth its weight had an intelligence division. Even the Jedi Order had their Shadows, like Knight Quinlan Vos. So… why was Bail’s reveal and assurance of Alderaanian spies so startling to Obi-Wan…?
“Ah,” Obi-Wan cleared his throat. “I… see… Very good, very good. That’s only mostly terrifying.”
“I… don’t get it,” Ani admitted.
Regaining most of his wits, Obi-Wan explained, “Let me put it like this, my Padawan. Alderaan is known as a shining icon of peace and pacifism on a galactic scale. They’ve been so from the founding of the Republic, through all of the Sith Wars, and until the present day, with very little wavering.
“How, then, has a culture of pacifism remained so prominent in an often cruel galaxy over thousands of years and many eras much more tumultuous than even our current one? How, then, have they continued to shine so brightly for the galaxy through peace and war alike?”
“As I put it to Padme once: the Bothans are known for their spies. Alderaan is not. Needless to say,” Bail chuckled. “The best minds and eyes are on the job. And when we release the investigation — as publicly as we can, mind you — people will see it. The galaxy will see everything the Hutts are.”
“Now,” He continued. “Investigating the monstrous collective institutions that are the Hutt Cartels would normally be the work of a generation, even for our people. But thankfully, the Gonks here have done quite a lot of work for us.
“Even my best hidden daggers are impressed, especially with the slicing and infiltration skills our hosts have shown. They’ve advised me that it would be best for the investigation if we could secure a working cooperation between my people and the Gonks. Could negotiations of that be factored into our mission here, Padme?”
“… Yes. We’ll make it happen,” After just a moment of hesitation, Padme nodded and sighed. “Going in, I had feared implications of showing bias to either side. But now, I’m afraid I am biased. Our whole mission here needs to be restructured and reconsidered.”
Ani just about whooped within herself. She knew she was right to put her faith in her angel! Padme wasn’t blind. And now that she had more information, now that she’d heard the truth of the Hutts from the lips of freed slaves, she wouldn’t turn away.
“Indeed,” Obi-Wan agreed. “As noble as your goals are, Padme, we must weigh them against the facts of reality in Hutt Space. The peace and ceasefire we originally sought may very well be, not just untenable here, but inherently, morally flawed.”
“We have a saying on Alderaan,” Bail said. “‘At the heart of every true pacifist, there must be a burning, unassailable, righteously raging willingness of spirit, for when the galaxy declares violence to be the only rule of beasts, they must stand up, shout back ‘We are not beasts!’, and be prepared to fight for the peace they believe in.’ A paradox, yes, but sometimes, we must fight for peace.”
“In lawless space like this, violence isn’t just the refuge of tyrants, but also the only tool that might see them brought low enough for true peace to take their place,” Padme quietly mused, and Ani just about fell in love with her all over again.
Ani watched Padme fall into her thoughts, watched her turn the paradox over in her head. ‘Fight for peace’… It couldn’t have been an easy revelation, accepting the violence they strove against to secure the very peace they strove for. But Padme wasn’t blind. She wouldn’t turn away. As always, Ani’s faith in her angel paid off. Padme reached her decision.
“That’s what we’ll do. What we must do,” She said. “Fight… for peace, for a better way of things here. It’s not pretty. Or ideal. But it is real, and the alternative…? No, the alternative is unconscionable. The goal of our mission hasn’t changed, but our methods for achieving it must.”
“So we’re throwing our lot in with the Gonk Cartel?” Ani asked.
“Not throwing in, no,” Padme shook her head. “But I would much rather them than… the Hutts. Atom… I think he will try for peace once he’s able, strong and secure enough to make it stick. The Hutts, they won’t even try. They won’t accept any way of things but their authoritative supremacy.”
“They won’t come to the table unless it benefits them and them alone, crushing everything beneath them,” Bail agreed. “The only peace they would accept would be the surrender of the weak, the return to their terrible status quo, and that’s no true peace.”
“We know, at least, that we can work and speak with the Gonks. They’re hosting us here, after all,” Obi-Wan said. “Now, with our foot in the door, we… what?”
“We can acknowledge their sovereignty,” Padme suggested. “At least, Alderaan and Naboo can. Even if we can’t speak unilaterally for the Republic, I don’t think the Gonks will mind all that much. Alternatively, getting them to join the Republic…”
Ani snorted, “Snrk! Sorry, Padme, but you met the same Atom I met, right? That’s so not happening.”
“I expected as much, yes,” Padme sighed. “Thankfully, it’s really not necessary with Hutt Space’s long history standing on its own. They’re not part of the Republic, and they don’t need to be. But unofficially — or perhaps even officially, though we don’t have the authority to do that on our own — recognizing them as a free and sovereign state will be a significant statement to both sides of the conflict.”
“Coordinating with them on the Hutt Files should also make which side we personally support in the conflict very clear. And it sets a useful precedent for us being willing to work with them and vice versa,” Bail added.
“Most importantly,” Padme continued. “We push to ensure that their newly claimed sovereignty doesn’t become a twisted and mirrored sequel to the Hutts they threw off.”
“That won’t happen,” Ani said firmly. “It won’t. Can’t. Mighty Leia would never let her champion fall like that.”
The words just spilled out of her, but as she said them, Ani knew they were true. No one who broke chains in Mighty Leia’s name could become a master as utterly damned as even the best Hutt.
Whispers wafted in on starry winds of Force. Ani heard them as easily as she breathed. Mighty Leia was here on Free Nar Shaddaa, with chains broken and stars rejoining her sky and the beginning of something special, and she’d staked her claim on all involved. Adopted or not, Atom was a brother of Mighty Leia, just as Ani was her sister. And under Mighty Leia’s sky, they would never fall.
From the corner of her eye, Ani saw Obi-Wan staring at her with a look she couldn’t quite place. It was confused and concerned, as if truly seeing her for the first time. But also compassionate and caring beneath his more immediate feelings, just as supportive as she’d always known him to be.
He… didn’t understand her relationship with Mighty Leia, that unique section of the Force reserved for all of her siblings in chains. He couldn’t. But as his steady presence reached out to her in the Force, she knew he didn’t need to.
He was with her. Always. Through trauma and trouble, thick and thin.
Padme nodded, “Personally, I don’t think it will either. I think Atom would die before letting himself be compared to the Hutts… But we must do all we can, in an official capacity — perhaps even contingent on the legitimacy we offer them — to ensure it won’t come to pass, regardless of our personal beliefs.”
“Hmm,” Bail hummed curiously. “Are you thinking of getting it in writing? Making our Gonk hosts the first cartel with a constitution the galaxy has ever seen?”
Padme suddenly let out a peal of bell-like laughter, “You know, I think I just might be! What a novel idea… Simply ‘The Constitution of Free Nar Shaddaa’? Or something more personal… ‘Atom’s Accords’?”
“The Night City Canon?” Bail suggested.
Chuckling, Obi-Wan couldn’t help but join in the brainstorming, “The Gonk Code?”
Ani joined too, shaking her head as something filtered into her mind from every freed star on the moon, an unconscious undercurrent of Force that ran through all of her siblings at once. A spark of a name for everything unprecedented happening here in the heart of Hutt Space, the heart of chains. Ani spoke three words, and the Force rang like a bell.
“Mighty Leia’s Laws.”
Obi-Wan blinked as the ring echoed through the Force, “Oh my. Mighty Leia’s Laws, it is, then.”
IIIII
Ani was blushing, “I didn’t mean to…! It just-! How was I supposed to know the Force would react like that to three simple little words?!”
Aayla was teasing her, “Three little words from the Chosen One, backed by Mighty Leia, who, while I’ve never fully figured out what she is, is definitely real, definitely part of the Force, and definitely not simple.”
Ani had set aside some of her free time to get to know the Jedi already attached to the Gonks. She’d asked them to meet her on the roof of the Gonk HQ building that they were staying in, just to talk with some semblance of privacy. She hadn’t been expecting Master Fay to join Knights Quinlan and Aayla, but she also wasn’t about to turn the legendary Master away.
All three had been here since almost the beginning of Atom’s movement, and Ani thought they could offer valuable insight for Padme’s mission and its new goals. So while Obi-Wan kept guard over Bail and Padme, Ani had come to speak to Jedi peers who also knew chains.
That’d been a pleasant surprise. Well… not pleasant… Chains never were. But Ani honestly found it a relief that she wasn’t alone amongst Mighty Leia’s siblings in the Order.
Aayla knew Mighty Leia best, but Quinlan had known chains, too, if not nearly as well as Aayla did. And Master Fay… she hadn’t claimed any relationship to Mighty Leia outright, but Ani had her suspicions. A thousand years of life (more than Master Yoda…) was a long time to come to know chains. Ani had a strong feeling that Fay had become kin to Mighty Leia over her adventures through the galaxy.
“Arrgh,” Ani groaned. “Obi-Wan’s never going to let me live this down.”
“Chin up, Skywalker,” Aayla giggled. “It’s objectively the right name for things here, at least as far as our siblings are concerned. Only the start of something truly special, like the freedom spreading here, could bear Mighty Leia’s name. You just put words to her blessings and expectations for Free Nar Shaddaa.”
“Does… Does Atom know?” Ani asked.
Thankfully, Quinlan shook his head, “I don’t think anyone could miss the ringing… But we haven’t shared anything concrete. It’s your mission here, and we’ll leave that work to you, Obi-Wan, and your charges. Officially, we shouldn’t even be here, so it’s best if we stay out of the actual negotiations.”
“Thank you for coming to us,” Fay smiled. “It’s good to know that, even for our unsanctioned positions here, we still hold the trust of the Order. I know the Council likely wouldn’t approve of some of our choices when they come to the Gonks.”
“The Gonks… well, they aren’t our enemies here, but we are still working separately and in parallel to them. Padme says there has to be a proper order to her talks with them, so we can’t come out and tell them about our new goals immediately. I don’t really get it…
“But you all… you’re my siblings,” Ani stressed, unable to be convinced otherwise. “You deserve to know what we’re aiming for with Mighty Leia’s Laws.”
“Maintaining some element of surprise allows for increased leverage at the negotiating table,” Fay explained, with the air of a gentle lesson. “If Atom and his Core Gonks knew exactly what you were now aiming for, they’d be able to prepare against it. Even between mostly friendly powers, diplomacy is a battlefield, young one.”
“So… you won’t tell him immediately?” Ani asked. “I know you’ve said you’re… committed to his cause…”
“I am,” Fay nodded. “But I shan’t interfere or step on your toes. I happen to support the idea of Mighty Leia’s Laws, so you’ll have the leverage you need to see it through.”
“Not that Atom’s likely to outright refuse,” Quinlan said.
“He’s not…” Ani hesitated. “Right? You feel it, too?”
“I feel many things about Atom,” Fay chortled. “But I believe you’re referring to his open destiny, his unique potential, and the fact that Mighty Leia and the Force favor him in their own particular ways.”
“… Yeah,” Ani slowly nodded. “He’s been claimed as a brother for fighting in Mighty Leia’s name. And more than that, in the Force, it feels like… anything is possible here. Like… the future is constantly being unwritten, written, and rewritten around him.”
“That’s accurate,” Fay confirmed. “You’re very sensitive to notice that, Ani. By the very nature of our connections to the Force, the beautifully blank canvas of not seeing is much harder to recognize and accept than seeing as a Jedi usually would.”
“I-… huh,” Considering that statement brought Ani up short. “You’re right. I don’t think I’ve ever ‘not seen’ like this. Even when the future is clouded by darkness, we still see that. But here, anything can happen, and it falls on us to make it happen. It feels like… a weight off my shoulders.”
She shared the last sentence with a quiet, almost ashamed tone. But Fay didn’t judge. She just nodded.
“You carry a monumentally heavy weight on your shoulders, Ani. Heavier than Atom’s, even. There’s nothing wrong with feeling relief at being unburdened.”
“Tch, I never understood why the Council told you that you’re supposed to be the Chosen One,” Aayla shook her head with a click of her tongue. “That was a whole lot of weight to place on a youngling’s shoulders.”
“Especially when they’ve eagerly hidden other important secrets from more people than just you,” Quinlan deadpanned.
“I can’t say I’m happy with that decision, either. It tethers you, Ani,” Fay commiserated. “Unduly. Limits and constricts and does its best to shove you into a single, specific, strangling box. I don’t think it says good things about what the Council and Order have become during my time abroad.”
“Honestly, yeah, I feel like I’d rather not even know at times,” Ani admitted with a shrug.
Fay frowned, “Imposing destiny upon a single young soul… Treating it as definite and certain… That’s not how prophecies work. The current Masters of the Order should know better. I know my junior should.”
“Not how prophecies work…?” Ani asked, tilting her head a little.
“No prophecy is certain, Ani,” Fay explained. “To say one is, is to spit in the face of the Force’s future and its constantly malleable Will. And beyond that, as Jedi, we interpret, not decide. Singling you out for this Chosen One prophecy isn’t just against every established protocol and tradition; it’s also, quite frankly, just stupid. Prophecy can be a powerful tool, to be certain, but this…? This is not how it’s used.”
“To quote Atom,” Quinlan said flatly. “‘… Fucking terrifying.’”
Ani snorted a surprised laugh, “Hrk! What?!”
Fay just nodded, though, “Ah, yes, his words do fit young Ani’s situation quite well, don’t they? As he put it: ‘It’s a poem that determines your fucking future. No, more than that. It fucking chains you to something that hasn’t yet happened and takes away any control you think you have over your life, whether you realize it or not. Fuck. Prophecy.’”
Something achingly real in that quote resonated with Ani’s soul. Suddenly, she realized that, once more, she’d been chained.
Immediately after being freed from her physical chains, she’d been chained all over again. By no choice of her own, by interpretations and ‘wisdom’ forced upon her, she’d been chained. Not physically — worse — with Masters of a different sort declaring their will to be her law, she’d been chained.
Long-suppressed rage roared up from the bottom of her heart as an inferno. Ani burned. Internally and externally, the Force about her was whipped into a frenzy. Undirected, it lashed out at her surroundings. Thin air popped and cracked like snapping flames. The rooftop they stood on fractured across its whole surface.
Ani could barely bring herself to notice how Quinlan and Aayla quickly and warily backed away from her. Her Jedi siblings in chains would understand. They had to…! They knew chains just as she did, so they had to know how badly she now burned.
But where Quinlan and Aayla backed away, Fay was there, cutting through her fire with gentle words and compassionate light.
“Easy, Ani, easy… I know. I know,” Fay cooed, barely a murmur but heard as clearly over Ani’s chaos as any shout. “All you feel is valid. But don’t let it burn you down. You’ve been done a cruel disservice by seniors who should’ve known better. But here, now, you stand at a crossroads of fate unwritten and rewritten. Don’t rage. Don’t burn or break. Shine free.”
Fay’s light and compassion brushed past Ani’s raging storm and into its heart — her heart — as if it wasn’t even there. She didn’t dismiss Ani’s emotions, didn’t tell her, impossibly, to not feel. Instead, she willingly threw herself into the storm with Ani and urged her to shine through it, over it, despite it.
“All chains are Mighty Leia’s domain,” Fay whispered into Ani’s soul. “These are no different. Remember, there exists no chain that cannot be broken. It hasn’t been forged now, and it never will be. Lean on your starry sister, let the star of freedom she’s shared with you shine. In this place of pure potential beneath her eyes, let your chains of prophecy be unbound.”
“How?!” Ani’s soul screamed.
But Fay was there as well, guiding her through the storm. She shone so, so bright, a pure-light beacon of compassion, understanding, Unity. Ani couldn’t have lost track of her if she tried.
“It’s as simple,” Fay held her hand within and without. “As letting yourself be. In the here, in the now, in this place of pure potential. Be present; do not let your future be written for you. And if prophecy tries to chain you, know that Mighty Leia’s star has always been within you, and as with all of her siblings, through it, she longs for you to shine free amongst her sky.”
Ani forced herself to breathe. In. Out. She touched the star within her, bestowed by Mighty Leia and first shown to her by her mother. She stoked it to shine — unbound, unburdened, unchained by anything. With Fay’s beacon presence as an example so close at hand, Ani knew exactly how she needed her own star to be.
Her storm waned. Her rage faded — felt, acknowledged, but ultimately let go so she could simply focus on being. In the Force, something unseen but always felt — a choking, clinging grip of things to come — loosened. Not completely, but it didn’t cling so close, didn’t choke so cruel. Ani opened her eyes, and the weight she always carried didn’t seem so heavy.
In the service of being present, Ani decided, then and there, to do something she should’ve done years ago, “… To hell with what the Council says, Mom’s going to be free.”
Fay turned to her with a sharp look in her eyes, speaking slowly, “I’m… sorry… Did you just imply that when the Order took you in, the Council decided to leave your mother in chains…?”
Her all-too-calm tone sent shivers down Ani’s spine, “Uh… yes…? Said it was to prevent attachments, ya know?”
Fay closed her eyes and let out a slow and controlled breath, “Attachments… I see. Everything I hear about this current Council is worse than the last.”
“Isn’t that… the usual routine to prevent attachments for Jedi, though?” Ani asked.
“There’s ‘preventing attachments’ — which, don’t get me started on that or the Order’s current recruitment methods…” Fay’s eyes opened to reveal a steely look. “— and then there’s leaving your mother in a situation that practically primes you to fall with her loss.”
“The short-sightedness and sheer cruelty on display here…” Fay continued, almost disbelieving in her tone. “I’m without words. Simply speechless. I thought I would only have to have words with my junior, but I see I was wrong. I’m going to have to take his little, green, goblin ass over my Force-damned knee!”
Ani’s jaw dropped right open with that. Unfortunately, she didn’t have much time to enjoy the shock or absurd mental picture of Grandmaster Yoda being spanked like a naughty youngling as she suddenly realized her comm unit was ringing up a storm to rival her earlier one.
“Ani!” Obi-Wan’s frantic voice shouted through with such volume that Ani winced as she answered the comm. “Are you okay?! Where are you?! I felt-!”
“I’m fine, I’m fine. Feel?” Ani hurriedly reassured him, sending a sense of her now-calmed state through the Master-Padawan bond. “Just had a… moment. But I’m with Master Fay. She helped me through it. Really, I’m fine. Better now, even… Everything’s-…”
Ani trailed off as Fay motioned for the comm unit with that same steely look still in her eyes, “Hold on, Master Fay wants to talk to you herself.”
She heard him start to breathe again with a sigh of relief as the comm switched hands, “Thank goodness… As long as you’re fine-…”
“Knight Kenobi,” Fay interrupted him with a too-pleasant tone and a steely smile to match the steely look in her eyes that only Ani could see. “Would you like to tell me why your Padawan’s mother is, right now, languishing in chains? Please. Enlighten me.”
Then, the pleasant tone dropped from her voice, “And if you reference the current Council once in your explanation to me, I will be… cross.”
Her tone and expression immediately convinced Ani that she wanted none of the uncomfortable conversation coming Obi-Wan’s way. Instead, she looked around for something — anything — else to be doing just then. She found that ‘something else’ in Quinlan and Aayla, standing on the edge of the roof and watching… alongside two unexpected newcomers — a dangerous and wizard-looking older woman who managed to look like Night City personified and a veritable mountain of matte-black steel.
“CUTE SHOW YOU WERE PUTTING ON UP HERE, FORCE-CUNT,” The mountain rumbled at her.
Before Ani could process and take offense to the crude insult, Night City Personified spoke up with rolled eyes and an apology, “Sorry about him. Try not to mind our full-borg bastard too much. Better for your health. Unless you ignore him completely. That tends to be much worse for your health.”
Shaking her head with a chuckle, she asked, “Padawan Skywalker, right? Nova name. It’d make a pretty preem handle.”
Slowly, Ani nodded, “That’s… me, yeah. Just Ani is fine, though.”
“Nice to meet ya, Ani. I’m V. The monster is Smasher. I’m his handler,” V said with a returned nod.
“Nice to meet you, too,” Ani replied, somewhat confused. “So… what’s all this about?”
“MY MEAT-CLONE’S BUSY WITH ALL THE TALKIN’ BS. FIGURED FORCE-CUNTS WERE THE ONLY OTHER MEAT-CUNTS WHO WOULDN’T SLOW ME AND THE V-BRAT DOWN ON A GIG,” Smasher said.
“Basically,” V translated. “We’re inviting you to have some fun and get violent against mostly acceptable targets. Think of it as a new-friend date.”
“She really is just being friendly, I’m afraid. Violence is the best way Night City has to make friends, regardless of how high the body count of that friendship turns out to be,” Quinlan deadpanned.
“Mostly acceptable targets…?” Ani asked.
Aayla was the one to explain there, “Slaver remnants.”
“Or new and expendable slavers being marched to their deaths by proxy so someone else can test our mettle,” V shrugged.
“GOOD FOR THEM, I’M ALL METAL,” Smasher let out a low, rumbling, and dangerous laugh.
“Whatcha say, Skywalker?” V asked. “In or out?”
Ani thought the offer over. On one hand, she really shouldn’t be getting involved in Gonk operations with their current mission. On the other… slavers. And she’d already decided to just be, writing her own fate and shining free…
Freeing self-determination wrote itself across Ani’s face as she decided for herself, “I’m in.”
IIIII
Bonus Pics (sauce below)
Comments
QuantumServer
Thanks for the chapter, cant wait for smashers to show Ani up
Marius Rex
It's great to see Padme "grow up" and realize that not everyone drinks the same cup of fancy tea
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