The Fog of War/Part 4

"I don't like Aldayr's new lightsaber," Narasi commented as Tirien popped a panel on the Second Chance. "Isn't it a Sith weapon?"

"That's just a legend," Tirien replied. "Great Jedi Knights have used double-bladed lightsabers. Bastila Shan, during the Jedi Civil War.  Her descendant Satele during the Galactic War."

"But he lost his arm to one," Narasi protested.

"And maybe that showed him the advantages of the weapon in combat," Tirien reasoned. "Did you ask him why he's using it?"

"Well, no," Narasi admitted.

"Then ask him or leave it alone. Don't be so quick to judge, Narasi," Tirien advised. "Whenever you can, consider a situation fully before you take a stand or make a decision."

"Yes Master."

Tirien nodded. "Now, you see these pipes? They feed coolant into the system.  Once we've got the replacement system in place, it'll be able to keep the engines cool under heavier stress, which means we can finally push the new engines up to maximum speed."

They got to work, Narasi helping him offload the old coolant system and studying the internal workings of the ship as Tirien explained their functions. They both had their sleeves rolled up, their hands covered in grease as they worked, but Narasi's mind remained on Aldayr Nikodon, his double-bladed lightsaber, and the new intensity with which he fought. She couldn't pretend to have made much of an effort to communicate in the week since the two Corellian Jedi had arrived, but she thought she had sensed something off. She tried to work out why it bothered her, but she could admit to herself that she couldn't put a finger on it.

"Focus on your work, Narasi," Tirien said.

Narasi started, hastily looking over the pipes and hoses. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No," Tirien said as he wiped his forehead with the sleeve bunched in his elbow, "but you're grumbling so loudly in your mind I can hear it. Use work like this for Moving Meditation.  Focus on your task, move your hands where they need to move, and clear your mind of everything else."

Of course; when in doubt, meditate. Narasi sighed, but gave it a shot anyway.

Tirien was showing her how to clean the gunk out of the pipes when Mali Darakhan called, "Tirien. The wait's over."

They turned to find the Corellian crossing the hangar bay toward them, his green robes rippling around him, Aldayr a step behind. Wiping his hands on a rag, Tirien asked, "The wait for what?"

"Lakalt," Mali said.

Narasi looked up at her master in time to see his expression smooth over in a way she had come to associate with action. "Where?"

"Milagro. Neutral world, Rimward of Denon on the Corellian Run."

"Mid Rim?" Tirien asked.

"Expansion Region," Mali answered.

His tone was grave, and Tirien crossed his arms, brow beetled. Narasi thought about it, then ventured, "Too close to the Core?"

"And a gamble for Lakalt," Tirien told her. "He's hopelessly overextended if he loses."

"And he's going to lose, because Vedya Gasald is in on it too, attacking from the other side," Mali added. "Even if the Milagroans joined forces with Lakalt they couldn't withstand Gasald's fleet."

"She's there personally?" Tirien asked.

"Kiss of Death and all," Mali confirmed. "And most of her ships, too."

Tirien drew the comlink from his belt. "How did we miss this?"

"Because it didn't come down through Jedi channels," Mali admitted, lowering his voice. "I got the tip from a Republic commodore who owes me a favor."

Tirien's body rocked once with the laugh he didn't vocalize as he replaced the comlink on his belt. "You and your friends."

"Hey, making friends helps me stay a step ahead," Mali commented. "You should try it some time."

Narasi bit her tongue as Tirien rolled his eyes. "So what of it, then?"

"We need to convince the Council to act," Mali said. "We're closer than Coruscant, and the Fifth Fleet is still trying to contain the last circus."

"Wait a minute, we're talking about fleets now?" Tirien crossed his arms again. "Mali, the Seventy-Second has been pressing Lakalt, but we're no match for Lady Gasald's fleet either."

"We don't have to plan the whole strategy," Mali said. "They're the Council, that's their job. But we need to take it to them now, or Gasald's going to get entrenched there."

"So tell them," Tirien said.

"You know them better than I do, you know how to get through to them," Mali argued. "Besides, if we go together it might mean more than either of us going alone."

"And tell them what?" Tirien demanded. "Mali, it doesn't matter if every Jedi on the Crescentia thinks this is a bad thing if we don't go in there with a plan."

"Time's a factor, Tirien," Mali insisted. "We'll go in and present what we have, and we'll help nudge the discussion along as needed."

Tirien closed his eyes for a moment, but finally said, "All right, fine. Out of my deep respect for you as a Jedi, I'll back you up on this.  But don't talk to me on the way, I want to come up with something.  Narasi, get the new coolant system installed.  We'll be back when we know something."

"Good luck," she called after them.

"No such thing," Tirien called back.

"He's right because we're not on Corellia!" Mali added.

Narasi laughed, then turned to her project. The gunk was coated pretty deeply under her nails, so she dived back into the hoses, pipes, and wires, looking at the new coolant system and trying to figure out what went where. Aldayr lingered, leaning against the Second Chance.

"I could help you with this," he offered.

"No, it's fine, I've got it," Narasi said.

"It's really no trouble," Aldayr said.

"I said I've got it!" Narasi snapped.

Aldayr leaned back, frowning. "Fine."

Narasi sighed. There is no emotion. "Look, it's our ship. Working on it is…it's kind of our thing, okay?"

"Right."

Narasi raised her hands, levitating the coolant regulator with the Force, keeping her breathing deep and even. She lifted it to the open panel and slid it in until it rested, then let it down, taking slow breaths. Feeling Aldayr's eyes on her, she asked, "What?"

"It's not just the ship, Narasi," he said. "What's your problem?"

Narasi wanted to brush him off, but she remembered her master's counsel. Looking at the weapon on Aldayr's hip, she asked, "Why did you pick that? It's not what you had before…you know."

"Before Lord Vargh chopped my arm off?" he asked. Narasi winced, and Aldayr rolled his eyes. "It was my arm, Narasi. Trust me, you're not going to remind me of anything.  It's not the sort of thing I can forget."

He squeezed his replacement hand into a fist, tightening it until Narasi could hear the servos whine in protest.

"I picked this because it works," he added. "My master said your lightsaber should be so much a part of you that it's an extension of your arm. Well, I have two arms again, so why not two blades?"

"Isn't it harder to block blasterfire?" Narasi asked.

"Not if you practice, and I'm getting better," Aldayr said. "Besides, I built in separate crystals; I can drop down to one blade if I need to."

Narasi thought about arguing further, but found herself wondering why. In the end it was Aldayr's weapon; what did she care about his lightsaber? Or Aldayr himself? Leaving it be, she set to connecting the coolant regulator.

"You do all the work on this?" Aldayr asked.

"My master and I, yeah. Some of the really technical stuff we let Soolorl help with."

"He's the Givin?"

"Yeah. If you're sticking around, brush up on your math."

"How does a Jedi Consular know so much about mechanics?"

"His master was a Sentinel," Narasi answered defensively. "He knows stuff."

Aldayr just nodded, and Narasi turned back to her work, connecting hoses and trying to ignore the Corellian's presence. Her hand slipped on the third connection and a sharp edge bit into the web of skin between her thumb and forefinger. She hissed through her fangs and sucked on the wound, only to recoil and stick out her tongue at the taste of grease mixed with blood.

She looked up and saw Aldayr studying her with faint concern. She had worried he might laugh—she even had a retort forming—but somehow his unemotional reaction was frustrating, too. "Did you need something?"

"Do you need help?" he asked.

"I'm fine, it's just a scrape," Narasi muttered.

Aldayr paused a moment, then nodded, leaning back against the Second Chance. Pushed beyond endurance by his calm, Narasi demanded, "What's with you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're just…emotionless," she said. As soon as the words were out she knew it was what had been bothering her. On Taanab Aldayr has been brash, even cocky—like a younger Mali, but with only half the niceness and a tenth the skill. He had shed some of that abrasive edge, but apparently not replaced it with anything.

"There is no emotion," Aldayr quoted.

"That doesn't mean 'there is no personality'," Narasi retorted.

Aldayr sighed. "Look, I know we got a bad start on Taanab, but I'm not trying to pick a fight here. I think we should try to get along; it looks like we're going to be working together again."

"Says who?" Narasi asked.

"You heard our masters."

"Yeah, I did—they're going to talk to the Council. You don't know Master Kadych; maybe nothing'll come of it."

Aldayr shrugged. "A great Guardian and a great Consular both want to stop an invasion by a Sith Overlord. How could they say no?"