Chapter Text
The universe shifted when the Jaieh Kenobi found the clones. Something clicked into place. Something, which no one had even realized was misaligned, dropped into its proper spot in the universe.
Savri Nam was on Corsin, technically on job, more accurately goofing off with Nedia and Tulaz. They were getting the job done. It was an easy job. The mark was some hot shot real estate man who thought he could just force an entire neighborhood out in order to build some shitty swoop race track. Other crimes against sentients which he had previously escaped were creating not one, not two, but five different housing crises across the galaxy.
Tulaz was playing with him. Talking circles about some investments or shit they had set up beforehand for the mark to sink some money into. Six years and Savri still struggled to understand this financial seduction so many con artists used. She was waiting for the mark to click a link Tulaz would give him so Savri could start mining his accounts, while Nedia was at his house staging what would look like the mark was having his affair. Destroy his finances. Destroy his life. All good.
Then it happened.
Something snapped, a string was yanked, and everything was spinning. She needed to see what happened. She needed to know, “Nedia, you feel that?”
“Yeah, that was weird,” Nedia replied.
“Weird? I feel like I’m going to throw – OH SYDEHV (FUCK)!” Savri whent toppling over.
“Savri! Are you okay? Savi come in!”
“Here Nedia, I’m fine. I didn’t hit anything on the way down,”
“Are you okay? What happened?”
“The thing it the force! I’m fine,”
“Look, I felt something weird, but you physically fell. That’s some Jedi shit, if you need to go?”
“I’m not sure. I’ll call Jaieh Brosam after this,”
They finished up the job. Bad guy was jailed for tax evasion. His reputation was ruined. They gave as much money back to the comunites he stole from as possible. Historic neighborhood was saved. She couldn’t stay for the celebration.
“Padawan, I’m so glad you are safe,” Her master said over the holo call.
“I am master, things went well. Did you feel a disturbance in the force the other day? Maybe a day back,”
“Yes, I was going to call you tomorrow about it if you didn’t check in. We’ve recived a message about it, recall back to the Temple, are you in a place to leave?”
“Yes, Master. Where should I meet you?”
“The asteroid of Truand 7 has a shuttle stop, if it’s not too much trouble for your crew,”
“That will probably work. Pecha Master,”
“Pecha Padawan,”
She met up with Jaieh Brosam as planned. Savri also grabbed some poilaf chips she might be able to use as bribes, and then began bouncing from planet to planet and dredged up whatever information they could shake from loose tongues.
Whatever had gone down, it was a big deal since it’s all anyone was willing to talk about. On Geonosis there was a- well no one was sure what to call it. It was a fight, droids, Jedi, and a private army. No one was sure which group this private army was. No one was stepping up to put Geonosis on their resume. Getting to the mid rim rumors said Mandalorians, always looking for a tiff with the Jedi. But this private army didn’t kill any Jedi and people repeatedly said their armor was white plastoid and unpainted.
Others said it was a local Geontion group taking advantage of the Jedi presence. It was the most likely in Savri’s opinion. Geonosis is a world dotted with war and conflict. Factions fought over land and resources constantly, and it wasn’t uncommon for a group to jump to a smaller conflict for the sole purpose of eliminating one enemy.
The most unhinged rumor was that the private army were clones of each other. Identical white armor, down to the height and build of each soldier. But all of that was vague. Whatever had happened took place maybe two weeks ago. Getting to Coruscant there were rumors of war. Not a proxy war, or a cold war, or even that stupid war on drugs, but propper troops on the ground with guns and uniformed armies kind of war.
The widean (Jedi Guard) ushered them to the northwest tower’s lower levels and shoved a data pad into their hands. They were still in civilian looking clothes, so was everyone else in the waiting room. Savri opened the data pad and scanned it while a few others were shuffled in.
Geonosis. 180 Jehxah dead. And Jaieh Kenobi (Always the disaster lineage) found clones. The fucking bat-shit insane rumor, was the truth. A fucking clone army. Of all the sydehving rumors.
“Can’t believe it either?” Lons Liirroos asked. He was an older padawan, the Twi'lek being maybe three or four years older the Savri, and was with Savri for one of her early solo missions.
“Clones. I genuinely waved a person off about that rumor over on Taanab,” Savri whispered.
“Same, well, not Taanab. And drafting Jedi as generals,”
“Whoa, I didn’t get there,” Savri said and hurried back to the data pad. Declaration of war. Drafting the Jedi. Apparently other worlds were taking volunteers, but no one else was being drafted.
“This is insane. Is this draft even legal?” Padawan Sealane Kencoll asked. They were an Iktotchi, who had been a padawan for about three years now.
“I’m not sure. Military law isn’t my specialty. I’ve been doing tariff and trade crime,” Savri said.
“How’s it been?” Padawan Liirroos asked.
“Business people, the ones in the ugly greys, they are the most entitled pieces of shit,”
“What happened?” Padawan Kecoll asked.
“So, during the merger between- '' All three were both swiftly scruffed by their respective Jaiehs, as if they weren’t bordering on senior padawanship.
“We’re going in,” Jaieh Brosam said. They shuffled in. It was one of the confidential meeting rooms. No windows, a table, projector, data pad, and a few chairs. The data pad was someone’s personal pad, and the projector couldn’t store any data. There were maybe 10 knights, and 5 padawans, that entered to see Jaieh Pinluc. They were an older Ensel who specializes in artifact storage (read: deal with the cursed shit the Valehan (Jedi Shadows) brought back). He started up the projector, which had a predestination clearly made form one of the defualt templates. No shade, no one here needed a fancy predestination. It would probably just be a few key things, or maybe a few necessary images.
“As you have already learned, the Republic is officially at war. As such, the Republic has drafted the Jedi people as their generals. As Valehanan rather than jehxah you have two options. Some of you have proper military experience, and would be invaluable on the front lines.
“Broadly speaking, few Jehxah have ever seen more than the tail end of war. For anyone else, your mission will become broader. Instead of focusing on the sith and tangentially related dark artifacts, you will be asked to learn more about the Separatist faction.
“While working as the republic’s informants, we will be integrating with the group of clones designated to the Coruscant Guard who have been selected to act as the branch between deployed units and the clerical work on Coursant.
“If you have any findings that relate to the Speratesit party, please submit your reports as usual, and the new labels are outlined in your data pad, but keep a copy in case the new set of bureaucracy makes you re-do it. If you wish to go into the position of general, please notify the High Council. If you already have information regarding the Separatist, write your reports and conclusions. There’s more details in the data packets. That is all. Jesara,”
“Jesara,” Everyone coursed, and shuffled out of the room.
Their shared apartment had been filled with all sorts of things, tools, practice pieces, and notes galore. She grabbed one of her WIP (Silk was force-damn hard to spin, but it would result in some terrific lace), and sat “incorrectly” in the chair and spin her silk.
“That was a whole lot. Kind of scary,” Jaieh Brosam prompted.
“Yeah,” She agreed, winding on the thread to the spindle, “It doesn't make any sense,”
“I know. There’s all sorts of wrong here. I’m think of sending some stuff to K-T, seeing if she can scrape anything since we’re going to be busy,”
“Sounds like a good idea,” She agreed, “So, I guess the clone thing was actually true. I really thought that one was just over-exaggerated rumors,”
“So did I,” Jaieh Brosam admitted before slumping into the couch with his research. It didn’t last long. An hour later they pretended everything was normal, like they were just back for a break. They went down to the Temple fridge. Admittedly, Savri wasn’t paying attention to the recipe Jaieh Brosam picked.
They when up and down the aisle checking off items. Chicken, lemongrass, shallots, limes (fruit and leaves), ginger, the list went on and on. Savri let herself settle back into soft hum of the temple. Admittedly it was a little more frantic than usual. War was an unnerving prospect. The Jedi Order hadn’t been at war since the end of the Old Republic. In that time the Order’s military aspect had been stripped away. Savri was intimately familiar with that. She had studied the Order’s history and changes. Practicality had long since been exchanged for skill, discipline and curiosity in their light-saber forms. Their chain of command wasn’t made to be swift, unyielding and efficient, but exemplified thoroughness, patience, and communication. Meditation rooms were used for every day by everyone as part of a routine. They weren’t places of desperation and begging to stay connected with the light. Training halls were filled with laughter and children, rather that the monotonous rhythm of soldiers.
“Daieno bika (Be in the moment),” Jaieh Brosam put his hand on her shoulder. SafeHereWarmthTogether.
“ Resah (Thankyou)” She said.
“We should have everything, do you want something sweet?”
“Mango,” She decided, seeing the fruit out of the corner of her eye.
The Jedi were very big on funerals. Most of Coruscant knew this. The funeral marked the point in the grieving process, where mourners needed to start to look forward. Typically those closest to the dead Jedi were supposed to initiate the funeral. The Senate demanded the funeral happen as soon as possible.
Savri had been to a few Jedi funerals. Ja’eni Liunb Feskin died when she was eight. She had been a friend of her own Ja'eni, and so Savri had known the older Jedi to some degree. Jaieh Qui-Gon Jinn when she was twelve. She wasn’t close with him. His funeral happened mere weeks after Jaieh Obi-wan had returned and been knighted. Jaieh Obi-wan said he wanted to do it quickly, so he could focus on raising Anakin. Savri didn't know Jaieh Qui-Gon personally, but Anakin had asked her to go. In that time she and Anakin were much closer.
Jaieh Dulgan Solman was a close friend to Jaieh Brosam. They were crechemates. Jaieh Dulgan Solman was dead. Jaieh Solman, who made the best pillow forts in the whole order. Jaieh Solman who loved to tease her Master about being an old man with only one padawan. Even if they were only on Coruscant for a few hours Jaieh Solman would make sure to seek out Jaieh Brosam.
The air was heavy and thick with smoke. It clung to Savri’s skin and prickled at her tendrils. Jaieh Brosam clutched a data pad holding all their old holo photos. Jedi burned their dead. Jehxah Baniss Derricote lit the funeral pyre. Stories were passed around, from his teachers, his friends, his students. It made the air feel just the smallest bit lighter. There was no death, only the force.
Savri was hanging out with a few other valehnan padawans: Lons Liiroos, Jaikait Gaparc, Sealane Kencool, and Aurale Twiwago. They were in one of the kitchen/lounges called Zahlahkesh. Sunken seating was around a hearth that currently had a poor excuse for bread (Literally flour and water) and with a few toppings and sauces to the side. It’s not that they didn’t have anything better to eat, but Jaikait was sure they could make bread from scratch without a recipe.
“I want to join the front lines,” Padawan Aurale said, “Master Roduly and I, we spent a year in a half in a war zone,”
“Can I ask, why?” Padawan Sealane asked. They were the youngest in the group, bearly 15 and a padawan for a little under six months.
“An artifact, maybe Sith in origin, but definitely luxari (from the darkside). Scarps of metal, almost shrapnel like. It’s unclear if they inspire hate, or feed off it, but it was interested in keeping that hate around. The area around it had decended into war for the past 50 ish years,”
“So now there’s no more war there?”
“Offically, the war ended two years ago. The leadership has sworn out of fighting, but hate doesn't disappear quickly. The war left four or five broken factions on each side, vying for power, money, and resources. Not quite organized enough to be considered a war, but it’s still far from peaceful,”
“That’s depressing,”
“Savri’s got happier stories,”
“Aurale!” Savri said.
“What?”
“You know I can’t always share those stories,”
“Why not?” Padawan Sealane asked.
Savri looked around nervously, “You have to swear you won’t tell anyone,” She whispers.
“I swear,”
“I spend, maybe 90 percent of year on missions, missions that aren’t senate approved,”
“How?”
“We aren’t Consulars, so the Senate, I won’t say they care less, but they’re less inclined to ask how we do things. It makes them feel, icky,” Savri explained, “As long as we get our assigned mission done, and it dosn’t cause them trouble, they don’t care what we do,”
“What about the funds?”
“We’ll teach you how to get those,” Padawan Gaparc smiled, pulling out a pack of cards,
“You know how to play sabbac,”
“Yes,”
“Do you know how to cheat?” Liiroos ask.
“No, maybe?,”
“You can feel it in the force, bluffs,” Lirroos concludes.
“Yeah, but is it cheeting when everyone you grow up with can do it,”
“It is to outsiders. What about card counting?”
“No,”
“Alright, in a sabbac game cards 2 through 6 have a vaule of plus one. 7 to 9 have zero, ace and faces are negitive one,”
“Okay,” The rest of lunch was spent teaching their youngest how to count cards, which is not technically illegal in most parts, but can definitely cause a fight if you get caught. Apparently Padawan Gaparc got in a very nasty scrape on Povor after she got caught, which led to a promises to review hand to hand (to teeth) combat together at a latter date.