The Other Side of Grace 2

Thrawn’s latest letter had arrived on my desk just before I was already to go home and relax from what had been a really hectic day. There were lots of crazy appointments that Lord Vader had suddenly decided to cancel and needed them to be rescheduled as well as some rather heated arguments about certain deliveries he wanted made sooner than the original deadline given. I had spent most of my day pretty much trying not to shout at everyone I spoke to and it was one of those days where even invoking Lord Vader’s name did not help the process any. I was so looking forward to the holiday, Tapani day, coming up in a week’s time.

Being busy kept my mind off being maudlin. I sorely missed my family and my home but most of the time I was just too inundated with work to think about it. Lord Vader, it seemed, had decided that he would make full use of my talents as his go-to girl and things had never been so hectic as they now were. Or maybe, I had thought ruefully one day, he was actually punishing me in a more cruel and unusual manner than before, making him far more subtle than I had ever given him credit for being. I didn’t really mind though, it felt good to be needed even if it was in that typical Lord Vader shouty, unappreciated way. I got a certain amount of satisfaction knowing I was good at my job and that he relied upon me to get things done. Of course it also made my chances of being killed due to failure somewhat greater but every job comes with risks.

Jarack came into the office just as I was starting to lose my cool with a droid manufacturer and he watched with a bemused smile on his face as I dealt with this latest catastrophe in the saga of droid engineers. I had been doing almost the exact same thing the last time I had seen him and it was ironically funny. Lord Vader went through droid manufacturers and engineers the way courtesans changed clothes. His big thing at the moment was a new sort of probe droid. This would be the thirteenth one in two weeks who had essentially signed his own death warrant. I waved at Jarack who, as always waited until I was finished with the holo conversation I was having.

“Afternoon, Miss Gabriel.” he grinned. “I see it’s business as usual, today.”

I rolled my eyes. “You know, I honestly don’t get why people think they can fight Lord Vader on anything. It just makes him cross and that usually results in someone dying. It simply isn’t good for business.”

He laughed. He had a nice laugh, rich and warm. In the time he had started taking care of the letters that Thrawn and I wrote to each other I developed a certain connection to him. He was a quiet man in his mid to late thirties, with silver grey hair ever so slightly longer than regulation allowed and a neatly trimmed beard and moustache. His eyes were a strange silvery colour that almost matched his hair and they were intense sometimes to look at. I was quite sure that if he had ever worked as an interrogator of any kind his victims would have cowered immediately after being stared at for any length of time. I was curious enough to wonder about what it was he really did and polite enough not to ask. I am certain he knew this and it amused him greatly.

“I heard a whisper that the Admiral might actually be returning to the core worlds sometime in the near future.” I said as I signed for the bulky envelope.

He smiled. “There may indeed be some truth to that rumour but I can neither confirm nor deny it.”

“I guess that would mean I will see less of you and you get a break from playing postman.”

He just shrugged ever so slightly. “Perhaps, but I rather enjoy the smile I get when I walk in through your door, most people who see me come into a room do not smile like that, they generally do not smile at all. This is one of my more pleasant duties, shall we say?” he said.

It was on the tip of my tongue to ask what else he did but he shook his head almost imperceptibly and I just nodded. “Next time you see the Admiral, say hullo for me?”

“I always do, Miss and it always makes him smile even though he tries his best not to show it.”

“Thanks Jarack.” I said. He had long ago, on several occasions told me not to call him Commander Behl but my request that he call me Merlyn had fallen on deaf ears; he always called Miss, ma’am or Miss Gabriel and I had given up trying to make him stop.

“Will you be needing me to come by tomorrow?” he asked.

I took a look at the bulkiness of the courier package and shook my head. “No, I have a late night ahead of me and I think this will take longer to answer. I’ll send a message, if that’s okay?”

“Of course, you know the drill. Till next time, then. ” He said with a wink and vanished, leaving me to open the latest surprise from Thrawn. I looked inside and smiled, then tucked it all away until it was time to go home. Work came first and I still had some shouting to do. Not for the first time did I wonder if I should start wearing clothes fashioned after Lord Vader’s own outfit, maybe that would get better results.

In the quiet of my flat, curled up on the most comfortable of chairs, with a cup of tea in hand I sat down to read the letter Thrawn had written. As always, it was almost as if he were sitting across from me talking. If I closed my eyes I could picture him, his hands gesturing to help articulate his point, his eyes flashing and his smile. Of course closing my eyes to conjure his image did not help me read his words.


A’mia Tekari,

I am currently sitting in the quiet of my quarters and we have crept into the first hour of the graveyard watch. I am certain you know this time well, the quiet time when things seem to have completely calmed down. It never ceases to amaze me that although there is no day or night in space, humans cling to some sort of internal clock. This watch time is for some reason, always the most serene. The ship’s engines hum quietly in the background and as I sit here in the relative silence listening to them, I am sharply reminded of you. Ever since the incident with the Ahnkeli’ Su’udelma’s hyperdrive I have been far more aware of the sounds of engines than I previously was. You have no idea how far reaching your influence is, my dear.

I am truly glad you enjoyed the flowers. I had suspected that you might feel a little down coming back to a planet you do not like very much. While I know you are happy to be back in Lord Vader’s, dare I say this, good graces, leaving your home world after such a long visit will have been hard. I remember how difficult it was for you the last time to say goodbye to your family when we were both there. Now, I imagine that leaving takes on extra significance since you know that you were born there and it truly is your home.

It seems that I have become accustomed to your evasiveness when something is on your mind and have developed almost a sixth sense for it. There is no spying involved just an ability to read between the banter and as you would say, cut to the chase. I did not, however, anticipate your news and I quite honestly don’t know how to respond to it. I will tell you this, you need never apologise for not telling me something personal which troubles you. I only ask because I know that often in your case, it helps to talk and because sometimes I worry you might explode from all the secrets you keep locked away inside that beautiful head of yours.

This news must have been quite a shock for you. If I read between the lines correctly, it sounded to me as though it was delivered in a fairly abrupt and unexpected manner. I do not pretend to even begin to understand what you must have thought, what you must have gone through when you learned the truth of everything. I wonder though, if it brings some sort of closure for you in some ways, allowing you to move forward by answering questions that, while you have never voiced them, must have certainly been on your mind.

I must tell you that in all honesty I am not so surprised to learn that you are the offspring of a Jedi. Your particular talents and gifts should, I believe, have made this obvious to those who knew what to look for. I dare say Lord Vader was not at all shocked by it and it might go a long way to answering your questions about why he and the Emperor have a vested interest in training you and keeping you close to their court.

I do understand that you find all of this information unnerving and difficult to deal with but that will change in time. Certainly, when I return to Coruscant I would love to hear your thoughts on it all. I imagine that you would also benefit from having someone neutral in this matter to talk with. I laughed at your somewhat apt description of your life. It does indeed have many of the elements of a crazy holo story, except it is, in your case, all true. I doubt very much though that everyone is related to everyone else and I certainly hope that we do not all die horribly in the end. Life can get very complicated if you let it, although, to my way of thinking, in many ways, this information has simplified yours a great deal. While you rarely ever spoke of it, I know that the question of where you came from burned in your heart, even Kirja’navaar’inkjerii was concerned for you about this weight you carried. Now that you know the whole truth perhaps you understand better the reasons your adoptive parents kept it from you as long as they did. Maybe now you can even forgive them a little for keeping such terrible secrets.

That you are the offspring of a Jedi will no doubt raise a few eyebrows considering their somewhat restrictive ideas on relationships, but during times of conflict it should not be such a huge surprise. There were many rumours of pairings between clone soldiers and women during the Clone wars. No matter what, biological nature is hard to override and during times of great stress and war the need to copulate and procreate is very strong, especially amongst humanoids. I imagine that your birth mother might have had more difficulties with the situation as it went against the Jedi code of non attachment, every thing she would have been taught from an early age. It was sobering to read that it was probably the man who fathered you that hunted and killed her. This leads me to suspect that he was, as you surmised, most likely a Commander. I wonder if he had, like so many others, taken a name on for himself and if it is perhaps possible to find out exactly who he was.

During that time, the armies of the republic were cloned on Kamino and the genetic source was a man who originally came from a planet called Concord Dawn. I don’t know if you are aware of this or not but his native language was Mando’a, or Mandalorian as it is sometimes known as. I guess this would help to clear up one more little mystery about you, although how you would automatically know this language is beyond me. Perhaps some trick of your birth mother’s? Maybe something she was able to pass on to you through the force? Lord Vader might be a better person to clear that question up for you.

I have a lot of information on the Clone wars and the clone armies raised by the Kaminoans. The history of this time period fascinates me and I did some digging underneath the propaganda that is readily available. Clones have many uses as well as many problems. The Kaminoans were able to very successfully raise huge armies of very capable soldiers in fairly short periods of time. Of course, I have my own reasons for being interested in clones and all the issues this particular aspect of science and technology raises. I must admit you bear no physical resemblance to the images of the clones that I have seen, but from what I have read of them you do have some of their traits such as loyalty, tenacity and bravery. I suspect you have inherited your wilful stubbornness from your mother. You can let me know if you want more information and I will see what I can do.

The planet in the Gradilis sector is indeed ideal for my, how did you put it, secret and nefarious plans. Where do you come up with these terms, my dear? I think you are covertly reading far too many trashy space detective stories from the Jeb Holloway era. Next you will be calling me a dastardly rat bastard, start wearing your hair in inexplicable, gravity defying coifed styles, slinky silk dresses sexily slit up to your hip and a nasty little stiletto blade strapped to your thigh. While this image is most appealing for a number of reasons, I beg you not to try it for real.

There was no veiled secrecy nor were there any tests of your ability to see into my secret plot, not that I have one. There really is nothing much to say about what we are doing out here. The Emperor wished to learn more about these unexplored areas of space, perhaps for possible expansion or so that he has a better idea of what possible enemies or allies are out here. I assure you there is no brilliant and nefarious plan in the works, at least not yet at any rate.

Thank you for the information you sent, it is most useful and exactly what I was hoping for. You are, as Lord Vader says, quite resourceful. Your ‘boss’ and I are conferring on a plan, still in the initial planning stages but he seems open to this idea and I, we, may yet call on you for further help. I would prefer for the time being you do not bring your uncle into it; the less people involved who can connect dots the better.

I am afraid I do not have all that much in the way of exciting news to tell you. It has been quiet here for the last week or so. Our advances in this region have been remarkable but sometimes it is just space with not much in between. My brother used to call it the Great Black. He was drawn to space, even as we were small children he knew that he would serve in the Chiss equivalent of the Imperial Navy. As small boys we used to play at being star fighter pilots. We must have driven our parents mad with our non stop chatter of space and ships.

It’s odd, I don’t think of Thrass that often. It has been a long time since he was reported MIA and I am certain he is no longer alive but of course no one knows this for sure. I do not often let sentiment interfere with my work but all this talk of family brings these memories up and at this moment I find myself missing him. I wonder what he would have made of you. I can almost hear his voice telling me that getting involved with someone not of our kind will only serve to make me even more unpopular than I already am with my people. Rest assured popularity was never high on my list of things I considered important. My younger sister, on the other hand, would most likely see this as a good thing. She enjoyed my rebellious side and in many ways takes after me on this. Unlike Thrass and me, she did not become involved in the military and was taken on by one of the artistic families. She is a very talented artist in her own right and perhaps some day I will be able to show you some of her works. She has recently had a piece admitted to the U’kalleyj’ann Art Gallery’s permanent collection. This is one of the main art galleries in the capitol city of Csaplar. I am, needless to say, quite proud of her accomplishments. I think that should the two of you ever meet, you would get along well. You have a surprising amount in common.

The Chiss produce extraordinary works of art, typical of a people such as mine, but few outsiders ever get to see or experience them. In some respects I find it a little sad that, on the whole, they tend to be fairly xenophobic and somewhat close minded on the subject of off worlders. There would be those of my people who would be furious at me for teaching you Cheunh. It is not the first time I have shared knowledge of my language with outsiders and I don’t know that it would be the last. I feel that it is vital to be able to communicate properly with other species and in order to learn about their culture learning the language is first and foremost a must. You already understand this so really I am preaching to the converted. I truly look forward to speaking with you in Cheunh and seeing how far you have progressed in the pronunciation department. I hope that the data I provided you with has proven helpful there and not just for writing.

I have to admit your talent with speaking my language astonishes me. For some reason humans seem to have great difficulty with some of the more complex sounds, particularly the soft palate sch and the tj sound made with tongue and teeth. I wonder if this gift you have for languages is not somehow tied up in your own force talents. Admittedly, I know a lot less about all the particulars of the Force and all the gifts associated with it than I should like, perhaps this is an area you can help me out with. I am quite certain that given the two mentors you have in this arena, you could find out a lot more about it. In the mean time I shall continue to nudge you in the direction of fluent Cheunh and hope that you do not get too bored along the way. Speaking of which I did find the data you sent on Huttese very helpful. You are right in your assessment of the language, it is very brash and somewhat uncouth but considering the species it comes from this is not too big of a surprise.

As something to help you while away your free time, I am sending you a holo book I just finished. I think you might enjoy it. It is a trashy space detective novel set in the Holloway era, I kid you not. It was sitting in the common room and one of the junior officers recommended it. I must admit I was a bit taken aback but he was quite passionate about the whole “grime crime” genre. I feel it is important to try to make some effort to understand the men serving under me so I read it. To my surprise, aside from the awful clichés and terribly dated dialogue, I found it enjoyable. Of course you are much too young to know anything about the fad of Jeb Holloway, but I hope that doesn’t stop you from enjoying the book anyway. It is not to be taken too seriously. I am hoping at some point to find you some books in Cheunh but they are more difficult to come by so you will have to be content with my letters as practice until I can get my hands on some.

My dear, I am quite flattered that you stay up until the small hours of the night writing to me, but really you should get some sleep. Jarack or one of his people would not mind if you rescheduled a pick up. He is paid to be both efficient and secretive. That is part of his job. I have known him for some time now, he was one of the best in his year at the Academy and as a commando he was part of an elite group of men I felt could be utilised in far better ways. Do not be fooled by the fact that he delivers my letters to you and vice versa, that is a side line or perhaps better to say a great favour he does for me. As to your question about the types of male attention you attract, I can only speculate on why men of mystery, as you call them, would be attracted to your side but I am certain that were I to utter what I think it would earn me a projectile of some sort being flung in my general direction or worse.

Sj’iu tekari, I am indeed aware that it has been almost a year since I last had the delightful pleasure of conversing with you face to face, a most enjoyable past time I might add. I treasure these moments in my mind and heart. I do not think that it is maudlin or girly to tell someone you miss them especially when time and distance create a void that is hard to fill. I must admit, I find the knowledge that my absence is a gap in your life is oddly gratifying. Your affections are precious to me, surprising as that may sound. Now who is being sentimental? On that terribly mawkish note I should end this particular train of thought.

The next time you talk with or write to Bel please send her my regards. She was a little worried you might not like it if I wrote to or sent her articles on art, but I get the feeling you are actually happy when you see others you care about being made happy. Envy is a remarkably useless emotion that serves no purpose what so ever. I think that your upbringing on that unpleasantly warm sandbox must have been to say the least, interesting and that you were surrounded by even more diverse and intelligent people cannot be a coincidence. After all you have been through in the last two years this family of yours must be a great source of balance and comfort for you. If I can repay their kindness to me for the hospitality shown when we were there briefly I will not hesitate to do so. And if it also means I have found a reprieve from Bel’s poking then I am truly thankful. Now, I am afraid I really must end this letter as I need to get to the bridge and deal with some issues that have arisen. How is that saying, No rest for the wicked? Take care of yourself and stay out of trouble.

Ilath’mera’talashti’Ia
Mitth’raw’nuruodo


Of all the people I both dreaded and longed to see when I returned to Coruscant, Master Kjestyll was at the top of my list. I had tried to keep up with my studies in the Bunduki arts but it had been hard to maintain a serious and regular training schedule of any kind, until the day I learned that uncle Vahlek was an excellent sparring and training partner. Mostly I was on my own.

Two days upon returning my uncle’s home, after the fight with Lord Vader I had woken up from a bad dream only to realise I wasn’t going to be able to get back to sleep. It was early, pre dawn and I had decided that instead of tossing and turning in bed it would be far more productive to work out, maybe even work through some of the demons that tormented me.

Outside the air had still been cool and only the faint lightening of the sky hinted at the coming dawn. I loved this time of day. It was as close to absolute peace as I ever got. Dressed in clothes I could easily move in I began to go through the warm up lessons I had been taught and before long had lost myself in the beauty of the movements that Master Kjestyll worked so hard with me to get right. I neither noticed the light in the sky or that at some point my uncle had woken up, made himself tea and had gone looking for me. He sat on the front steps of the house and watched in silence as I worked through the basic forms slowly, then began the more complex patterns and combinations, dancing in the sand He had not said a word until I stopped to catch my breath. By this time the first rays of Tatoo I were snaking their way across the ground.

We just started at each other for a moment and then after he had sipped at the last of his tea he had said. “You have been well taught by a master very proficient in the form of cho-dhi.”

“Cho-dhi?” I had asked as I’d followed him inside and gratefully accepted the cup of tea he had poured me.

He’d nodded. “The style of Bunduki combat you use is known as cho-dhi, it means something along the lines of invisible edge. It is one of the more subtle styles and you are very good.”

I had sipped my tea and regarded my uncle for a moment then asked. “How do you know this, Zte’sa?”

He had smiled. “Evidence of a misspent youth.” He had told me. “My father’s way of quelling my rebellious nature as a very small boy was to send me off to a well renowned and quite prominent business man, Yacoub Magdi-Zatteri to work in his gardens as punishment. What my father did not know is that this man was also a Bunduki master among other things. I used to watch him go through the slow kata forms every day at dawn while I started my work in the gardens. I would try to emulate him in secret but he was no fool, he caught me at it. He made a deal with me, if I would tend to his garden to the best of my abilities and he would teach me this art form to the best of his. I worked in those gardens for nearly seven years and every day he taught me this beautiful martial art.”

“Why did you stop?”

“Master Zatteri was killed, assassinated in his garden by twelve men. It was a beautiful summer’s day.” He had told me, the sadness in his voice made me sorry I had asked.

“Why?”

“He was a man with many enemies. I never knew the exact reason for this at the time but I swore I would avenge his death. That day changed my life forever.”

“You were there when it happened?”

He’d nodded. “Tried to save him, tried to help but they were too many and they were too well trained and I was just a young boy. One of them knocked me unconscious and when I came to my master was dead along with ten of his attackers. I will spare you the details but it wasn’t pretty. I had just turned thirteen. ”

I had looked at him for a moment wondering if I should ask the next question or not. “Did you ever find the other two?”

“I did. It took a long time and I was much older and far more experienced.” He looked at me for a moment with his pale green eyes and then had said, “And to answer your next question, yes. I killed them both and did not regret it.” He had given me a small, tight smile. “His teachings were just the beginning for me, after his death I sought others who would teach me, I eventually ended up on Anzat and learned many valuable lessons under the watchful eye of Akku Seii. Still I never forgot my first Master I ever had. His life, his death shaped what I became, much as your does to you now. Treasure your time with him, lei’lei.” He had toyed with his tea cup. “The way you move, reminds me of my first master. The one who is teaching you is very good. I see the same grace in your actions.” We had just looked at each other for a moment and I felt him testing me to see whether or not the news that he had killed changed how I saw him. It didn’t. Perhaps two years ago it might have but not any more. I had not looked away from his gaze and after a few moments he had nodded in acknowledgment of my acceptance. I had passed his test.

“How long were you on Anzat, Zte’sa?” I had asked after a long silence. Anzat was a strange planet out in the Mid Rim. Not much was known to me about it and no one ever went there, but I had heard stories from some of the spacers and pilots about it, none of them good.

He had regarded me for a moment with his eerie pale green eyes. “Too long.” There was finality in his voice that begged for me not to push. He sounded weary.

I had sighed. “I miss him, my Master, he is gentle and kind but firm as well. When everything else around me feels like it’s going to hell in a sand cart he is refuge in the storm.”

Uncle Vahlek had smiled then. “The best teachers usually are lei’lei.”

After that, every morning until I had returned home he had sparred with me and he was very, very good. He guided and taught much as Master Kjestyll did although his style was quite different. I learned a whole range of new moves and some not so nice tricks. I made a point of going to stay with my uncle for a few days every second week or so, mostly to get away from the hustle and bustle of Mos Eisley but also because I needed the training and I needed the time spent with him. There was a strange stillness to him that I craved, as though what ever sorrows and fears lay hidden deep inside me could be tempered by the darkness which he held close to his own soul. I never told my father and he never asked why I spent so much time with uncle Vahlek but I suspected he knew and did not disapprove. At least when I was with my uncle, I was safe.

The first day back under Master Kjestyll’s watchful eye had been welcome but hard. He had not taken it easy on me, wanting I suspect, to see how much work he needed to do with me so that I would get back up to the level he felt I should be at. When I had left Coruscant I had just passed my trial and gone from level four to level five. Now after being under his scrutiny for the past four hours I wondered if I should not be sent back to level four. I felt like a bantha in a glass shop. We sat on the floor bathed in the sunlight that streamed through the huge lancet windows. The dust we had stirred up danced in the beams and the pale yellow light sparkled. I waited for his comments as I worked into slow cool down stretches.

“You have been influenced by another teacher, someone trained in the Khaji-dho style. I see you have learned some interesting new tricks as well. Who has been teaching you on Tatooine?” he had asked.

I told him about my uncle and studied his face very carefully for signs of recognition at the name Vahlek Akosh but if Master Kjestyll knew him, his face gave nothing of it away. Instead he nodded and said. “Well, you are less rusty than I thought you would be and also more aggressive. Khaji-dho is a very offensive form of Bunduki and very, how would you say, old school. Do you like this form better?” he asked.

I shrugged a little. “I don’t know to say, it was more like learning slightly different choreography to a dance I already knew. I was just so grateful to have someone to work with that I never thought to question the differences. When Zte’sa asked if I wanted to learn something a little more offensive and I didn’t see why not, especially given the events that have happened in the last two years. Was this wrong?”

Master Kjestyll smiled. “A skill learned is never wrong, child. Your ability to adapt is quite remarkable sometimes.” He said quietly. “When the Emperor asked me to teach you he said ‘she is a subtle creature who requires a subtle hand.’ But now, I am not so certain of this assessment and perhaps I should take more care to teach you the more offensive style as well as the passive style you have been so far learning.” He spoke thoughtfully. “In seven months from now there will be a gathering of students for trials, I think you would be ready to take your sixth level, but it would mean a lot of work between now and then.”

I lowered my head in respect to him and smiled. “I am honoured you think that I would be ready. I will not let you down.”

He laughed. “No, you never do, you are a most pleasing, as well as a most unusual student. Now, that was enough for today, I think you will remember this session tomorrow and you will have to ease the stiffness from some of your muscles. We will meet again in two day’s time and get back to a regular schedule. I shall be working you hard so come prepared.”

I bowed to him and grinned. Hard work didn’t scare me.