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Updated: A Systematic Tale: The Hero 22
🕑 Added 2025-06-13 06:01:23 +0000 UTCSo this chapter was originally meant to be longer, but I started writing it at midnight last night and ran out of gas before I could finish it. So, here's the full thing.
Chapter 22:
– Silas –
Shaak Ti stood across from me in the Jedi training room, her red skin practically glowing under the bright lights. Her toned alien body flexed as she stretched, and the thin, dark fabric of her Jedi robes clung to her like it was struggling to contain her. Every movement she made pulled the cloth tighter across her chest and hips. When she bent forward, deliberately slow, the robe hiked up just enough for me to catch a glimpse of the taut curve of her upper thighs, her muscles shifting under smooth crimson skin.
She wasn’t doing it by accident, either. I think…
And judging by the way she smirked as she turned her head to catch me staring she clearly didn’t mind the attention.
If anything, she seemed amused by it. Besides, I had enough self control to stop myself from popping a boner.
The rest of the room was packed wall-to-wall with Jedi of every rank—Initiates, Padawans, Knights—most of them standing with arms crossed, whispering among themselves, throwing quick glances my way like I didn’t belong. Their voices blended together in a low buzz of dismissive bullshit.
“Who is that guy?”
“Master Ti’s gonna destroy him.”
“He doesn’t even have a lightsaber.”
They had no idea who I was, and I didn’t care. I caught the eye of a cluster of kids standing near the edge of the mat. I grinned, let a cocky smirk spread across my face, and gave them a lazy little wave. “You guys better root for the new guy,” I said loud enough for a few nearby Jedi to hear.
The kids laughed. One of them pumped his fist in the air. “You got this!” he shouted.
Shaak Ti stepped forward then, her expression a mix of challenge and something just slightly playful. She ignited her lightsaber with a sharp snap-hiss, the blue blade flaring to life in her hand.
“Relax,” she said, glancing at the younger audience. “I’ve set it to training mode. It won’t cut through you.” Her eyes slid back to me. “Although... if you’re dumb enough to hold still, it’ll still burn.” She tilted her head slightly and added with a smirk, “But I’ll try not to hurt you too badly.”
I chuckled, rolled my eyes. “You’re definitely gonna regret saying that,” I said, voice low and amused.
She raised a brow at that. “Oh really…?”
Then I lifted my right hand, palm forward, like I was conjuring something from thin air. She eyed me curiously.
“What are you doing?” she asked, blinking.
“Just a little magic trick,” I said casually. “For the kids.” I snapped my fingers, and the Nightingale Blade appeared in my hand.
The room went dead quiet for a second, then exploded in noise.
“What the hell—?”
“He just summoned that!”
“Is that a Sith technique?”
“No... that’s not the Force… I didn’t sense anything from him!”
Even some of the older Knights stepped forward, their expressions suddenly wary. The kids, though, were eating it up. Clapping, laughing.
“That was AWESOME!” one of them yelled.
Shaak Ti’s smile faded. Her eyes narrowed, her grip tightening on her saber. “What kind of Force ability was that?” she asked sharply.
I spun the Nightingale Blade twice in my hand, slow and deliberate, before pointing the tip at her. “Tell you what,” I said. “You beat me, I’ll give you the whole explanation…”
She wasn’t gonna beat me though.
She didn’t reply. Just dropped into a stance. A classic lightsaber form, two-handed grip, feet planted firmly, knees bent, blade angled diagonally in front of her. She looked every bit the battle-hardened warrior. Focused. Controlled. Dangerous.
Me? I just stood there casually. I had no formal sword training—nothing that would impress a Jedi. I didn’t need it. I’d been relying on raw speed, brute strength, and a fuckload of instinct. It worked just fine against Maul. I figured it’d hold up against her too.
She exhaled slowly. Then let out a sharp, fierce cry, her voice echoing through the chamber with a surprisingly cute edge to it. Then she charged. Her blue saber was raised high over her head.
Shaak Ti launched herself at me with no hesitation, bringing her lightsaber down in a hard overhead strike. Her blue blade came directly at my head. The intensity in her eyes was unmistakable—she wasn’t holding back. I could feel the force of her body as she threw all her weight and power behind the attack.
I reacted quickly. I raised the Nightingale Blade with my right hand, holding it at just the right angle to intercept her lightsaber. The impact sent a shock through my arm, vibrating all the way down to my shoulder. Her strength surprised me. I could see the muscles in her arms tensing beneath her red skin, and I realized she was definitely using the Force to amp herself up. There was no way a woman her size, no matter how athletic, should have been able to match my strength like that, even when I was holding her back with just one hand.
I was pretty sure I could bench press cars at this point. Although I hadn't tested it yet.
Around us, I heard the older Jedi reacting. Some of them gasped. One of the Knights spoke up, his voice carrying across the training room. “He’s actually holding her back!”
“How!? She’s a Master!”
The younger kids didn’t bother hiding their excitement. They broke out into cheers for me, even though most of them still didn’t know my name. Their high-pitched voices bounced off the stone walls.
One of them started chanting, “New guy! New guy!” and others joined in.
I grinned, actually finding it funny. The contrast between the older Jedi’s disbelief and the kids’ excitement made the whole thing feel even more surreal.
Shaak Ti’s face tightened as she tried to push me back. Her body was close, pressed against the lock of our blades, and I could see the strain in her arms and shoulders. I took a moment to look her up and down. Her chest rose and fell as she breathed harder, her breasts straining against the front of her robe. When she realized she wasn’t gaining any ground, her expression changed.
I decided to end the stalemate. I pushed forward with a little more force, using my strength to break the blade lock. I shoved her back, making her stumble. She took several quick steps to regain her balance. Her breasts bounced against her robe as she moved, the fabric straining against her curves. She steadied herself, glaring at me with a new level of caution. She reset her stance, gripping her lightsaber tightly with both hands.
She spoke up, her voice louder than before, so everyone could hear. “How are you this strong? I can’t feel the Force around you at all. No presence, no signature. Nothing.” She studied me with narrowed eyes. “What are you, exactly?”
I gave her a smirk and lifted the Nightingale Blade to my shoulder. I tapped the flat of the blade against myself, keeping my voice playful. “I’m just built different,” I told her, not bothering to elaborate.
Her eyes narrowed further, and she tilted her head just slightly. “Built different?” she repeated slowly. “Why does that sound like it’s meant to insult me somehow?”
I grinned wider, enjoying the way she was getting frustrated. “Maybe I am. Or maybe you’re just overthinking it.” I lowered my sword again, keeping my gaze locked with hers. “Why don’t you come find out?”
Shaak Ti tightened her grip on her saber, her expression caught between irritation and curiosity. I could see her working through her options, trying to figure out what my deal was. Her breathing was still a little heavy from the clash, and I watched the way her chest rose and fell with each breath. The fabric of her robe kept shifting and clinging to her body, giving me a clear view of every curve. Her legs were planted wide apart, her stance solid and ready, but I could see the tension in her muscles as she prepared for another attack.
She licked her lips once, then shook her head as if trying to clear it. “Fine. Let’s see if you can keep up.” Her voice was lower, almost a challenge.
I noticed something strange start to happen around Shaak Ti. The air around her began to shimmer, like heat waves rising off the surface of her skin. But it wasn’t heat. It was the Force—building around her body like a growing storm. A faint blue glow started forming over her red skin, concentrating along her arms, her legs, her chest. I could feel the change in the air, like static pressure building up, bending it around her.
I smirked and tightened my grip on the Nightingale Blade.
She was going all in now. No holding back. She was drastically enhancing herself with the Force. The floor beneath her boots cracked slightly, small fractures forming in the tile under the intensity of her power. It was obvious she wasn’t going to give me another playful little tap.
She was done playing—clearly.
But she wasn’t the only one who could amplify herself.
I focused inward, feeling that familiar charge beneath my skin. That low hum that always sat there, just under the surface, waiting. Electricity—raw, instinctual, always present—started to snake through my muscles. I could feel every tendon tighten, every joint sync perfectly with the next. My reflexes shot through the roof. My mind lit up, my thoughts speeding up like someone just kicked everything into overdrive. I wasn’t just reacting faster—I was processing faster. Like a true esper.
And that’s a good thing too, because—
She vanished!
One moment she was standing across from me, the next—gone. A blur of motion cracked through the air, and the entire room gasped in shock. A dozen Jedi voices reacted all at once, confused and amazed. She didn’t even leave a visual trail—just the result of her movement! Deep indents across the floor tiles and a whoosh of displaced air. Her body had moved so fast it looked like she had teleported.
But I saw her. My eyes tracked her easily. She was coming in from the right, saber held tightly in both hands, her muscles drawn back and ready to swing hard. I shifted my weight and turned to face her. She was fast—faster than anyone or anything I’d fought before—even Darth Maul when he was fighting for his life.
But I was faster.
She swung her lightsaber at my side, coming in with a full-body motion. I gripped the Nightingale Blade in both hands and swung to meet her directly. The blades collided with a deep, violent crack.
A shockwave blasted outward from the impact point, sending a pulse of energy through the entire training hall. The kids screamed in surprise. The older Jedi took cautious steps back. The sound echoed against the walls like a small explosion.
But she didn’t win the strength contest.
Her eyes widened as she realized it too late. Her feet left the ground, the impact launching her backwards. She let out a quick, high-pitched yelp. Not a scream, just a sharp, involuntary sound that came out of her throat the moment she lost control of her momentum.
She backflipped instinctively, using her natural agility to avoid tumbling like a ragdoll. Her chest bounced again as she spun through the air, landing hard on her feet and skidding back almost ten feet across the floor. She didn’t stop until the soles of her boots came within inches of the wall. She crouched low, panting, her saber still ignited, the blue light flickering near her face.
She straightened up slowly, eyes still locked on me. “Your physical strength is… extraordinary,” she said between breaths.
I grinned at her, casually resting my blade across one shoulder. “Thanks,” I said, smirking. “I work out.”
Total lie. I’d only worked out once in the last month, and that had been with Sophia. Technically, it was in a gym, but I’d spent more time watching her bend over doing squats than lifting anything myself. Not that it mattered.
…And damn, I was more pent-up than I wanted to admit. Missy was cool and all, but I should’ve brought someone older with me. Someone hotter… With curves just like the alien in front of me.
Damn, my instincts had been going haywire since I ate those two dragon souls.
I realized I’d been standing there, zoning out with a grin on my face like a horny idiot. Shaak Ti tilted her head slightly, watching me with a blank expression that said exactly how unimpressed she was. “I can’t sense your emotions through the Force,” she said. “But whatever dumb thought you’re having right now, that grin is pissing me off. We’re supposed to be fighting, not daydreaming.”
I chuckled, not even pretending to hide it. “Sorry,” I said, lifting one hand slightly. “Got distracted. Not my fault you’re the one showing off your assets every time you move.”
She narrowed her eyes at me, but her lips twitched slightly. A tiny smile pulled at the edge of her mouth. “Well,” she said, taking a slow step forward, “then I guess I should apologize too. Because I’m not going to lose this match in front of half the Jedi Temple!”
She raised her left hand, palm out toward me. There was a deep thrum in the air, a rising pressure like the Force itself was winding up. Then, without warning, she let out a focused breath and blasted a massive wave of Force energy directly at me.
I saw the ripple of air coming before it even hit. It was fast and too wide to dodge without diving out of the ring!
But when it reached me, something strange happened.
It didn’t hit me. Well, it did, but not really.
The Force push flowed around me like wind around a pole, wrapping around my body entirely and continuing past me harmlessly. My clothes didn’t even shift. My hair didn’t move. It was like I wasn’t even there, like the Force didn’t know how to touch me.
She stared, stunned.
A few of the spectators cried out in confusion, muttering about what they just saw.
“What the hell…?” she whispered. “Why didn’t it affect you? That should’ve thrown you into the wall!”
I shrugged one shoulder casually. “Because I’m a wound in the Force,” I said simply.
Her face twisted in disbelief. “That’s not something to brag about!” she snapped. “That’s dangerous. That’s unnatural. That’s—”
“Pretty useful, though,” I said with a short laugh.
“...”
I heard a lot of sputters from the older spectators. They obviously knew what it meant to be a wound. Completely cut off from the force. Probably horrified the shit out of them…
“...Fuck it, I give up,” Shaak Ti said abruptly, throwing both hands up in the air in frustration. She deactivated her lightsaber with a sharp snap-hiss, the glow vanishing instantly, then clipped it back onto her belt with a swift, practiced motion.
The reaction was immediate.
“What? That’s it?” one of the kids near the back called out.
“Lame! I wanted to see more fighting!” another shouted, their voice echoing off the walls.
A chorus of groans and disappointed muttering rippled through the younger initiates as the older Padawans started ushering them toward the exit. Most of the kids looked like someone had just canceled a holiday. I couldn’t help but smirk as I watched them shuffle out, grumbling about how now they had to go back to meditation drills and homework.
Even in a futuristic space society no kids could escape homework… How sad.
…Hey? When’s the last time I even did my homework on Earth Bet? It's—definitely been a minute on that one. When I get back, I should ask that sexy transfer student Rebecca Brown for her notes. She seemed like the studious type and there was something about her that just naturally drew me in. Like my inner dragon really approved of her or something.
A few of the older spectators stuck around a little longer, lingering near the doorway. One of them called out to me. “Hey! That was really impressive!”
“Nice fight, man!” another added/
I gave them a thumbs-up and a crooked grin. “Thanks. Maybe one day the Force will bless you all to be as awesome as I am!”
“…What? But you’re literally a wound. The Force abandoned you…” one of them muttered while looking at me sadly.
The others did as well, clearly thinking I was just putting on a tough front or something. Honestly, the Force was Missy’s thing—and being a wound was awesome! For me at least.
Once the room was empty, I turned back toward Shaak Ti. She had her back to me and was fussing with her robes, running her hands along the creases and smoothing out the fabric. Her lekku shifted with each movement, twitching slightly as she adjusted the hem and tightened her belt again. Her robes were clinging a little tighter than before, probably from the rapid movements and sheer Force pressure she’d been throwing around. Her chest rose and fell steadily, her breathing finally returning to normal.
I walked up behind her casually. “So, where to next on the grand tour of the Jedi Temple? You’re still my minder, right?”
She let out a long sigh and gave me a side glance. “Yes, unfortunately for me, I’m still assigned to keep an eye on you. Until the rest of the Council finishes whatever deeply important meeting they’re holding at the top of the tower.”
I rolled my eyes. “Let me guess. They’re probably up there trying to convince Missy and Anakin to join the dark side.”
Shaak Ti turned her head sharply to look at me. “The dark side? What are you even talking about?”
I smirked. “Too late for that anyway. Missy already loves cookies, so I’m afraid she’s already been converted.”
Shaak Ti blinked. “Cookies? What do cookies have to do with anything?”
“They’re a gateway vice,” I said, dead serious. “You start with cookies, and before you know it, you’re force-choking people in board meetings and monologuing about galactic domination.”
“That is completely absurd,” she said, throwing her arms down in exasperation. “The Jedi do not try to corrupt younglings! We believe in peace, discipline, compassion—and following the light at all times.”
I raised an eyebrow. “And being celibate. And boring.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “We are not celibate.”
I grinned. “You’re saying you can have sex?”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “The Jedi Order does not forbid physical relationships. That’s a common misconception. Jedi are allowed to have sex. With each other, or with whoever they choose.”
I wiggled my eyebrows and leaned in a little. “Oh? So you’re saying you could—hypothetically—jump my bones right now and not get kicked out of the Order?”
She shot me a flat look, the expression of someone who had very little patience left. “Hypothetically, yes. Realistically, I have much better taste.”
“Ouch,” I said, laughing. “That one actually hurt a little.”
Her lips twitched, but she didn’t smile. “Most Jedi choose not to indulge in those kinds of relationships. Because we are highly empathetic by nature. Intimacy often leads to attachment. And attachment… leads to emotional compromise.”
“Right,” I muttered as I spun on my heel and started walking toward the door. “Like I said. The dark side.”
I could hear her sputtering behind me, her footsteps echoing as she followed, clearly annoyed.
“We are not the dark side!” she protested. “And cookies are not evil! Well, my species are mostly carnivorous so I wouldn't know, but I'm sure they're fine!”
“That’s what they all say. Right before they offer you ‘just one more’ and then you go and destroy the galaxy!” I couldn’t see her face, but I imagined she was fuming judging by her heavy breathing. “Hey, on a side note? Do Jedi cafeterias have cookies? I’m kind of hungry after that short little workout.”
– Missy –
Missy was annoyed. She stood in the middle of a ridiculously grand chamber at the top of the Jedi Temple, surrounded by a bunch of iconic, robed space-wizard legends, and every single one of them was staring at her like she was under a microscope. She could feel their eyes on her like they were trying to dissect her with their minds.
It was creepy.
Anakin was standing beside her, shifting from foot to foot like he was either excited or seconds from pissing himself. Meanwhile, the Masters—Mace Windu, Yoda, Yaddle, Ki-Adi-Mundi, a few others she didn’t remember the names of—just kept asking her the same bullshit in slightly different ways.
“Is this Silas person a Sith?”
“Is he trying to lure you to the dark side?”
“Are you under his influence?”
Missy resisted the urge to roll her eyes for the tenth time. She crossed her arms tightly across her chest and shifted her weight to one leg, her entire body language screaming “done with this shit.”
The worst offender was Mace Windu. The guy had this voice like judgment incarnate and kept glaring at her when she kept saying “no.”
“There is something wrong about Silas,” Mace said with absolute conviction. “I can sense it. You should stay away from him. He is dangerous. Instead—there is a place for you here, in the Jedi Order.”
All the other Masters nodded along immediately. Like they’d rehearsed it or something.
Missy felt her jaw clench. Her eyes flicked toward Anakin.
The poor kid looked like he was barely holding it together. “Is there a spot in the Jedi Order for me too?” Anakin asked, his voice full of forced calm, almost hopeful. “Qui-Gon said I could join.”
The air shifted. Every Master in the room shared the same uncomfortable look, and Missy felt something cold tighten in her gut.
Mace looked directly at Anakin. “Sorry, kid,” he said bluntly. “You’re too old.”
Missy’s mouth dropped open. She didn’t even try to hide the shock on her face. “What the hell?” she said, her voice echoing across the chamber. She put both hands on her hips and glared at the council. “I’m older than he is! I wasn’t planning to join, sure, but you’re trying to recruit me while turning him down? How the fuck does that make any sense?”
Mace blinked, clearly not expecting that kind of response. “You should watch your language, young lady…”
Then Master Yaddle spoke up. She looked like a tiny, slightly squishier female version of Yoda—still wrinkled, still green. “Rethink your words, you should, child,” Yaddle said, her voice soft but piercing. “Powerful in the Force, you are. Come after you, darkness will. Safer it is… in the Jedi Temple.”
Missy snorted loudly before she could stop herself. She wasn’t from this galaxy. She wasn’t from this pristine, marble-floor, temple-top tower in the sky. She was from Brockton Bay. She’d dealt with gang shootouts and psycho villains on a weekly basis. These Jedi didn’t know what danger was. She could eat danger for breakfast and still have time to be late to school afterward!
But instead of arguing, Missy turned to Anakin, who looked like he was on the verge of crying. His eyes were red, his jaw trembling. He looked like a kid who had just been handed his dream and watched it get yanked away with zero warning.
She reached out and grabbed his hand without hesitation, squeezing it gently. “C’mon, Anakin,” she said quietly. “If these uptight Jedi Masters don’t wanna train you, screw it. We’ll find someone else who will. Someone who doesn’t treat kids like defective merchandise.”
Anakin blinked up at her, swallowing hard. “You… you mean that?”
She nodded. “Hell yes, I do.”
“Hold on,” one of the alien Masters said suddenly—some guy with weird head tentacles, Missy didn’t catch his name. He raised a hand, speaking quickly. “If we agree to take the human child into the Order as well… would you agree to stay? To forsake this… Sith Silas, and join us fully?”
Missy raised her eyebrows, then put a finger to her lips and tapped it playfully, as if she were deep in thought. “Hmmmm… I’ll think about it.”
She had already thought about it. The answer was a hard no. From what Silas had told her, once this mission was deemed complete by his “System” they could literally be yanked away from here at any time. Staying wasn’t even possible yet. Not until Silas had completed like three of these missions first or something, he'd told her.
But they didn’t need to know that.
She glanced toward Yoda, who was watching her with a knowing expression, that tiny wrinkle of amusement on his green face giving him away.
He knew.
The other Masters exchanged glances again—an entire silent conversation happening in less than five seconds. Finally, Mace Windu exhaled through his nose and leaned forward. “Anakin Skywalker,” he said. “Welcome to the Jedi Order.”
Then Anakin’s whole face lit up. He blinked back the tears quickly, wiped his sleeve across his eyes, and then lunged at Missy without warning. He wrapped his arms tightly around her in a full-body hug, squeezing hard enough that her boots slid half an inch on the smooth floor.
She stiffened for a moment, surprised. Then, slowly, she lifted one arm and patted his back awkwardly.
“This is so wizard,” Anakin whispered into her shoulder.
…
A couple minutes later, Missy and Anakin were back in the space elevator, riding the glass tube down from the Council chambers into the main levels of the Jedi Temple. The elevator barely shuddered as it dropped them dozens of floors in seconds. The cityscape outside was dizzying—so many flying cars, towers, endless city blocks.
The doors slid open, and Anakin was off like a missile.
The sound of his boots echoed off the polished marble floor as he sprinted down the wide corridor, his excited shout bouncing off the columns and walls. “I gotta go tell my mom! I’m gonna be a freaking Jedi!” he yelled, his voice cracking with joy.
Missy chuckled softly to herself as she watched him vanish around the corner at full speed. He obviously had no idea where he was going. But she didn’t worry. Anakin had the Force to guide him. And hell, so did she. With an amused smirk, Missy closed her eyes briefly, extending her spatial senses through the familiar haze of her power, enhanced now by the subtle tug of the Force she was beginning to grow accustomed to.
Instantly, she felt every hallway, every room, and every person within the vast Temple complex. It was exhilarating, like she had just unlocked a new level of her abilities. Immediately, she sensed Silas, calmly seated in what seemed to be the Temple’s cafeteria, accompanied by Jedi Master Shaak Ti. Missy frowned a bit at that, feeling a small twinge of irritation in her chest. Seriously, why did all the boys she found herself attracted to have to be older and so frustratingly oblivious!?
She focused more intently, finding with a bit of delighted surprise that she could even clearly hear the distant conversation between Silas and Shaak Ti. Her eyes widened in surprise. Well damn, had she just inadvertently become some kind of ultimate spy?
“—didn’t expect a Jedi Master to lose to me so quickly, you know,” she clearly heard Silas teasing Shaak Ti with a playful smugness in his voice.
Shaak Ti’s response was cooler, dripping with mild annoyance. “I underestimated you once. It will not happen again, Silas. Next time, you won’t have it so easy.”
The rest of the cafeteria buzzed with excited whispers and laughter, the younger Jedi initiates eagerly discussing how epic—even though surprisingly brief—the duel had been.
Missy sighed aloud and pouted. Seriously, Silas got to have this incredibly badass sparring match against a full-fledged Jedi Master, and she’d been stuck upstairs dealing with a bunch of irritating, judgmental old wizards. Wizards who, for some inexplicable reason, kept staring at her like she was some miracle come to life. Like she was… special or something.
Missy froze mid-step, eyes widening dramatically as her mind clicked the pieces together in sudden realization.
“Holy shit,” she blurted out loud, startling a passing Padawan who quickly hurried away, clutching an armful of holobooks. Missy slapped both hands firmly against her cheeks, feeling the slight sting of the impact. She let out a brief, incredulous giggle of disbelief. “They think I’m the Chosen One.”
Why didn’t she realize that sooner!? Qui-gon had been acting so weird around her too…
A couple giggles slipped out, sharp and loud in the empty corridor. No wonder they hated Silas. They thought he was some Sith trying to corrupt their precious space messiah.
She started walking, rolling her eyes as she replayed the Council’s reactions in her head. How would they feel if they found out Anakin was the actual Chosen One, and Mace Windu had just told him to fuck off to his face?
She remembered enough from the movies to know that even when they thought Anakin was special, they still treated him like shit, so whatever.
Missy considered warping herself directly to the cafeteria with her powers—something easily within her ability—but decided against it. The Jedi probably wouldn’t appreciate her casually teleporting around their sacred halls. And honestly, she was feeling relaxed enough to enjoy the short stroll. The place was genuinely beautiful, and she had some serious thinking to do anyway.
Of course, that decision turned out to be an absolutely terrible mistake.
Halfway down the quiet, gleaming hallway, Missy noticed an adorable little cleaning droid rolling smoothly toward her. It was shaped like a squat cylinder on tiny, agile wheels, covered in polished chrome plating, and had two bright-blue photoreceptors that blinked and beeped cutely as it approached.
Missy crouched down, not hiding her smile. “Aw, hey there, little guy,” she said, getting eye-level with the droid. She’d always liked robots—Star Wars droids were cool as hell, not even Tinkertech, just pure, regular science fiction genius. If she could bring a couple home, it would change the whole world.
The droid beeped again, a little more insistent. It rolled closer, stopped, and repeated the same sequence, like it was trying to communicate something important.
“Sorry, I don’t speak droid,” Missy said, leaning in a little closer. “Wish I did, though. Maybe Silas can—”
She never finished her sentence.
A tiny panel opened on the front of the droid with a sudden, smooth click. There was a sharp fwish. Something small and metallic shot out, fast. She felt a sting, sudden and hot, in the side of her neck.
She jerked her hand up immediately, her fingers closing around a small dart stuck just under her jaw. “Ow—what the fuck?” she hissed, yanking it out. The metal tip was already slick with blood and clear fluid.
The world began to spin instantly. Her head felt light, then heavy, the corridor tilting at a weird angle. Her knees buckled. The marble floor rushed up to meet her as her vision blurred, everything going grey, then black.
The last thing she heard was the droid’s soft, cheerful beep as her consciousness slipped away.
– Silas –
After teasing Shaak Ti a bit more—mostly about Jedi prudishness and the supposedly forbidden delights of cookies—I was happily munching away on one of the deliciously soft, crumbly little pastries.
I mentally decided to keep calling them space cookies, since they obviously didn't use normal cow's milk in this galaxy. Maybe Bantha milk?
Shaak Ti cleared her throat, drawing my attention back to her. I paused, cookie halfway to my mouth, and met her gaze. Her eyes had shifted, becoming slightly serious. Her lekku twitched in mild discomfort as she leaned slightly across the table. "Silas, I... have a rather awkward question for you," she admitted carefully.
I waved a hand dismissively. "Awkward is my specialty. Fire away, Master Jedi."
She gave me a faintly amused look. "Well, I can't sense your emotions. Not at all. You're cut off from the Force entirely. Something, by the way," she added pointedly, "you really shouldn't be so cheerful about."
I shrugged lightly, swallowing the bite of cookie. "You had a question somewhere in there?"
Her lekku twitched again as she shifted uneasily. "Are you always this... pent up?"
My eyes bulged, cookie crumbs lodging instantly in my throat. I choked, coughing violently, pounding my own chest hard to clear the obstruction. After a few harsh hacks, the bite finally slid down properly. Wiping my mouth hastily, I shot Shaak Ti an awkward, apologetic glance.
"Sorry. Damn, that's blunt even for a Jedi," I sputtered, a little embarrassed. "Look, about earlier with the staring—uh, sorry again. I didn’t mean to come off as a creepy pervert or anything." I paused, wincing a bit. "The real reason I'm probably giving off those kinds of vibes lately is because I'm literally part dragon. Also, I ate two whole dragon souls in the last twenty-four hours. All my senses—especially libido, unfortunately—are cranked up to eleven right now. Once I fully assimilate their essence, though, I’m hoping everything will chill out again."
Shaak Ti's mouth actually dropped open. Her deep, dark eyes widened dramatically as she processed my words. "Wait," she finally managed, her voice slightly higher pitched with incredulity. "You were being serious earlier? About literally consuming dragon souls!?"
"Nothing with the Force, Master Ti, is impossible..." I said, mimicking Yoda’s speech.
She immediately crossed her arms defensively over her chest, her expression souring adorably. "Some things definitely should be impossible. Like eating freaking souls," she muttered under her breath.
I smiled wider as I brought the half-eaten cookie back toward my mouth. Just before I could take another bite, though, I noticed movement from the corner of my eye. A cute little cleaning droid rolled quietly toward our table. It chirped out a series of cheerful beeps as it approached.
Shaak Ti went rigid in her seat immediately. Her entire posture shifted, muscles visibly tightening beneath her robes. Her lekku pressed slightly closer against her shoulders, eyes narrowing warily as the droid drew nearer.
I shot her a questioning glance.
She didn’t respond immediately, eyes still locked intently on the approaching droid. It beeped again, faster and more urgently this time.
Suddenly, Shaak Ti leaned forward slightly, her voice taut with tension. "What kind of nonsense are you talking about!?"
The droid didn’t respond, merely rolling even closer, its beeping now becoming louder and oddly erratic.
Then, without warning, my Electromaster powers exploded into awareness! A surge of intense, rapidly building energy pulsed aggressively inside the droid's small metal body! Building up very fast to something critical!
"Shit!" I cursed, dropping the cookie instantly. Instinct took over. I lunged across the table directly toward Shaak Ti!
Her eyes snapped wide in surprise as I collided bodily with her, my momentum knocking her clear off her chair and sending us both crashing heavily to the cafeteria floor. My arms wrapped tightly around her body, shielding her completely with my own.
An explosion erupted directly behind me a heartbeat later. A deafening roar filled the cafeteria as an intense wave of scorching heat and blinding light washed over my back. Pain flared immediately across my skin.
I grunted sharply in pain. Screams and shouts erupted around the cafeteria as Jedi, Padawans, and droids scattered in panicked confusion.
Shaak Ti stared up at me from beneath, eyes wide and startled. Her breath was quick and shallow, chest rising and falling rapidly under me. "Silas—you're hurt," she breathed, voice thick with sudden concern. Her dark eyes flicked urgently to my singed back, fingers instinctively gripping the front of my shirt tightly.
"I'll live," I growled, forcing my voice steady despite the agony radiating down my spine. "What the fuck was that?" Some kind of freaking Plasma Bomb!? Someone really wanted us dead right there… Good thing I was tough as hell, even without my armor on. Which was obviously a mistake in unknown territory.
Shaak Ti helped me get to my feet, but I was shaking. My back was still throbbing with pain. It felt raw, like someone had pressed a hot iron straight against my skin, and I knew it had to look fucked up—literal plasma burns tearing through the remains of my shirt.
I looked around, taking in the aftermath. It was obvious we were the only targets of the attack. There hadn’t been any other bombs, just the one—right at our table, right where I’d been sitting with Shaak Ti. The blast had left a blackened crater in the floor and scorched several nearby chairs, but none of the other tables had been touched.
Before I could process it any further, I heard the pounding of boots coming from the main hallway. A second later, the cafeteria doors slammed open and all the important Jedi Masters came charging in. Mace Windu was leading the pack, looking pissed, and for some reason Master Yoda was literally hanging off his back.
And it wasn’t just Jedi. Padmé and her handmaiden—Sabé—burst in right behind them. They both looked worried as hell. Padmé’s face relaxed slightly when she saw I was still on my feet, but the worry didn’t leave her eyes. They rushed over, skirts swishing, heels tapping hard on the tile.
Padmé was reaching out to put a hand on my arm. “Silas, are you alright? What happened?”
Sabé crowded in close too, her eyes jumping between me and Shaak Ti. “Was there an attack? Is anyone else hurt?”
I just grunted. “Someone just tried to kill me. Don’t know who yet.” I shrugged off Padmé’s hand without meaning to, but I was distracted. I barely looked at her or Sabé, even as they tried to fuss over my injuries with Shaak Ti helping to support me.
Instead, my eyes were locked on the old man who entered with them. He wore rich, dark robes and moved with slow, deliberate steps. For a split second—just a flicker—I saw the truth in his eyes. As he looked at the blast crater, I caught anger and disappointment.
It was obvious who just tried to kill me.
The old man was pissed his little trick hadn’t worked. Then, just as fast, the mask went back up. His expression softened, all concern and compassion. He stepped forward, putting on a show for the crowd. “Are you alright there, young man? This attack is an absolute tragedy, and I promise you, as one of the Senators of the Republic, I will make sure we get to the bottom of it immediately.” He turned, glancing at Padmé for effect. “Ah, but I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Senator Palpatine, from Naboo. I was just visiting the Temple today to speak with our illustrious Queen here about the tragedy unfolding on my home planet!”
He was a hell of an actor. If I didn’t already have my meta knowledge, I probably would have fallen for it. The Jedi around me didn’t have a clue. They didn’t notice the Sith Lord in the room, not even when he was standing right in front of them, bullshitting with a fake smile. Of course, Padmé was just fourteen and looked at Palpatine like he was some kindly grandfather.
I started to open my mouth—to say something, maybe even just to push him, to see what I could get out of him—when my system screen popped up right in front of my face.
A blue holographic display flashed open, floating in the air. It startled everyone around me. The Jedi all stopped moving. Even Palpatine froze for a split second, his eyes narrowing, before he schooled his features again.
Mace Windu barked, “What is that? Is this some kind of Sith ability!?”
Yoda squinted. “Mmmm. Curious, this is…”
I ignored all of them. I was focused on the text that glowed in the middle of my vision.
[EMERGENCY QUEST: Your partner Missy has been abducted by Darth Sidious. He plans to brainwash her and make her his new apprentice. OBJECTIVE: Stop him. Rescue Missy immediately!]
Rage started crackling just under my skin, flooding through every muscle, every vein. The world narrowed until all I could see was Palpatine.
Then the air around me filled with crackling noise and bright flashes. I glanced down and saw lightning arcing across my entire body.
The room gasped as they saw the electricity dancing over me.
With a single thought, I dismissed my ruined clothes, and my Nightingale armor snapped onto my body piece by piece. My mask wrapped around my face. I reached out and summoned the Nightingale Blade to my right hand. It appeared instantly. I stepped forward and pointed the blade straight at Palpatine’s throat.
“What the fuck did you do with Missy, Darth Sidious!?”
The room went completely silent at my question. All eyes turned to Palpetine in shock.
XXX
Comments
King hand axe
Love the story. Hate cliffhangers, always have and always will. Think they're a crutch used to artificially generate unpleasant tension.
Schloppi
But I think he would be that brave/arrogant since he has managed to fool all the Jedi masters for so long
Dark epyon
Yea that was the wrong play Palpatine kidnapping Missy sure but getting in a room with an unknown what he thinks force user and not thinking he might compromise you arrogant I get that he would think his cover would protect him but Silas is such a big unknown he shouldn’t have chanced it.
Chase Garcia
Well this just south quick
David Beltran
Come to the dark side we have cookies 🍪
SilverWolf
Thanks for the chapter, can’t wait for the next.
Bored Peasant
Someone was a bit pent up writing this...
WhatAFungi
For a “master”, Shakk is struggling to let go of her anger. I hope Silas and Acosta go back to BB soon. The Jedi are kinda being annoying. Thanks for the chapter
