3.10

The Force blared a warning like an old war siren, as potential outcomes and avenues of resolution disappeared faster than I could count.

There aren't many Arkanian Jedi; there never have been. As a species, we lean more towards mad science and Mengelesque eugenics than mysticism, and extensive genetic tampering or cybernetics tends to interfere with the natural development of the Force. However, the Arkanian Jedi that do exist are invariably well above average in both skill and power, and celebrated figures of Arkanian politics. There is a reason, after all, that the Jedi Order allied with the totalitarian 'legitimate' government in the planet's last civil war, despite the latter's support of things such as genetic slavery and eugenics-based caste systems. Not that the rebels were any better with their cybernetic reanimation and bio-mechanical re-purposing - and boy, do those technologies feel ickier when they've helped save your life.

So... the chance Alturen wouldn't be backed by the Arkanian government? As much as mine beating Sidious in a lightsaber duel. Because the tall, white-haired woman indeed was the system's legally assigned Jedi Watchman; unless someone had a breakthrough in cloning Force-sensitives, there were exactly three Arkanians with that strong a Force presence in the Galaxy - and one of them was still a padawan at the Temple while the other was illegally digging for Sith artifacts in a site under Jedi authority. I sighed and mentally lamented the loss of potentially game-changing knowledge. The part of me that had been Astra the merchant princess was already screaming at the expenses and investment that would have to be written off, but in a way I also felt relief. Now that I couldn't get my hands on what remnants of Sith tradition were buried in the ruins of the ancient library, I also didn't have to worry about using everything I learned against future threats or risk making the Star Wars galaxy an even worse place than it would have been in canon.

"Of all the times for the Jedi to be good at their job," I quipped, causing the Jedi Watchman's eyebrows to rise in disapproval. "Do you know how much of a profit this operation could have had?" Because with the Sith Library predating the old sith wars, we could have totally sold any non-Force-infused artifacts to collectors around the galaxy for millions apiece.

"The Force save me from short-sighted, money-grubbing, too-young 'adventurers'," the older woman said with the air of a teacher that had to deal with the idiocy of children far too many times. I was familiar with the sentiment, sympathetic to an extent, but having it applied to me still gave rise to pique and indignation... precisely the feelings that would vindicate the Jedi's opinion. "You're what, sixteen, seventeen? Just come into your inheritance and your first shipping license and your first idea for making a quick credit is raiding a site the Jedi Order has declared off-limits for the past two hundred generations?" The Force gave me insight into Alturen's feelings quite clearly just then; her desire to facepalm before caning me like an unruly youngling was almost a physical thing. Heh. And people thought the Jedi were unfeeling meat-robots. "Did it ever occur to you that there were reasons for the Order's watch over this place? That should you have succeeded, the ancient taint buried here would have slowly twisted you, your retainers, and everyone else who handled even the smallest pebble from here into debased, savage caricatures of yourselves?"

For a moment I dared hope the Jedi's misconceptions about the situation would last a bit longer, that we would leave this place with a fine and a black mark against the company's reputation but little else. Unfortunately, as soon as she had asked that question, Alturen's face smoothed into an expressionless mask and a sudden cold that had nothing to do with Arkania's climate creeped up my spine. Because I had thought of the potential consequences she'd mentioned, considered long and hard how to avoid them. Because only someone with knowledge of the Force - and enough of it to know the hows and the whys of dark side auras - would have done so. And a Jedi Watchman, trained in hunting darksiders like all Sentinels, would not miss that with the culprit barely twenty feet away.

"Ah, I see." The older woman's tone no longer was that of a firm but exasperated teacher admonishing a child for her own good, but that of a peacekeeper that had caught a major criminal red-handed. Rather appropriate given that she was a high-ranked member of the Judiciary, and Father and I most definitely were pirates, thieves, violators of the Galaxy's equivalent of the Geneva convention a dozen times over, and generally traitors to the Republic. It was precisely this outcome the Force had warned me of a minute earlier - just a bit too late to do much about it. Even if I surrendered to the Jedi, Father never would and a desperate man with a space battleship could do a lot to force authorities to release his only living relative... such as depopulate a planet or two. If I didn't surrender... I don't think being underage would make Alturen go easy on me. She thought I was all grown up thanks to my genetic enhancements anyway. Between a Rancor and a Sarlacc pit...

This was precisely when someone shot the Jedi in the back.

xxxx xxxx xxxx

​

One moment, the tall, white-haired Jedi Watchman was ominously pointing her walking stick at me, the next she'd turned around and was using it to bat aside stun blasts from Aurra Sing. The ex-mercenary was pouring in fire at a ridiculous rate and accuracy for a humanoid organic, her twin WESTAR-34 pistols whining like automatic rifles. Unfortunately, Sing might have been firing faster than anyone back on Earth could have managed, but Alturen moved faster than the eye could see - genetically enhanced eyes of a force sensitive at that. I had believed I knew what to expect from Jedi in a fight, but in retrospect I'd only seen stories about them in entertainment media; movies limited by the abilities of actors, and cartoon action scenes meant to be seen by children. If Jet Li had once needed to slow down for the cameras, what of someone trained for war that had real superpowers?

I drew my own gun to join the fray and a split second later my back slammed painfully against an icy ridge a hundred feet away. Back, head, limbs, my everything hurt after being telekinetically thrown aside with as much effort from the Jedi woman as it took to crush a beercan underfoot. Maybe she had held back to not turn me into chunky salsa or maybe she'd failed to take into account my genetic and technologically-induced enhancements; whatever the case, I was still mostly intact and close enough to contribute... except I couldn't move. There was no weight crushing me against the ice, no physical grip I could push against or escape; everything under the jaw except for my lungs simply refused to move no matter how I strained, as if being buried into permacrete. In the meantime, Alturen had already knocked one of Aurra's guns out of my bodyguard's hand and was calmly countering or dodging every shot from the other, as if Aurra's Force Concealment that in canon could confuse Skywalker was no more than a minor distraction. The focus she had to spend on holding me here was probably why the curbstomp of a duel hadn't already ended.

"He will win whose army is animated by the same spirit throughout all its ranks," I gasped, bruised ribs straining against unseen restraints.

"Vocal activation 001 acknowledged," a deep mechanical voice beeped around my throat. "Computer Assisted Biologically Augmented Latticework online. Directives?"

Despite getting my ass thoroughly kicked, I smiled widely. Jewelry was a girl's best friend, and the elaborate chain around my throat was a very good friend indeed. Even now, a minor shift in position swept through hundreds of excavation droids simultaneously, and hundreds more in recharge and maintenance were powering up. In the Force, a vague sense of unity of purpose connected every single one of them, a hostility fainter than any organic's but far stronger than any droid's was directed against the jedi even as it spread further and further. I didn't really need to answer the question; the new player in the field was perfectly capable of making their own decisions within a certain framework in case of my incapacitation. But hey, it was both irony and tradition so why not?

"Execute order sixty-six!"