Author's Note: If you have any tips writing tips, please feel free to comment.

As always, I continue to hope that I am doing justice to the spirit of Star Wars as well the respective authors and characters from which I borrow. Again, I gratefully accept constructive criticism as a means to help me develop my skills further as a writer.

Mandalorian (Mando'a) words

Buy'ce (BOO-chay, BOO-shay): helmet; Colloquially: pint, bucket

Ika (EE-kah): diminutive suffix written as 'ika - also added to a name as a very familiar or childhood form, e.g, Ord'ika - Little Ordo

Shabla (SHAH-bla): screwed up

Taylir Les'ika akay vaar'tur (TIE-leer EE-kah ah-kay vahr-TOOR): "Hold Les'ika until morning"

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Chapter 39

The Force shows me that things brew beneath the surface, and I sense a churning of emotions, not unlike the undertow in an ocean. What I can sense in that undertow looks like braided ribbons, tightly woven and unbreakable. It's a rare bond, a beautiful knot of compassion and adoration, unique in that it is both innocent but deeply devoted.

Jedi Paxa Tener providing her insights to King Vollan Psach

Tochin Moon II, 786 Days ABG

Suddenly the door to Crimson's chamber pinged for attention, and it broke Jas from his ruminations. Gath sighed at the additional distraction that hindered the end of his report. He glanced at the wall-mounted chronometer realizing that it was getting very late in the evening, and he couldn't even begin to imagine who might possibly be calling on them at this hour.

Jas lifted his head cautiously, wondering if perhaps Les'ika had managed to free herself from wherever they had sheltered her away, and he had a wild moment of hope that she would be standing behind the entrance.

Dusty hurried to the door, flashing a mischievous grin at Jas. However, when he opened the door they saw a young man, probably no older than sixteen years old, standing there. He was dressed in the plain clothing of a personal messenger, his tunic and pants a dull yellow. His shin-high boots were worn and dull, their deep brown now faded to a dark tan. The boy's auburn hair was cut short, and his light brown eyes sparkled with curiosity and awe at the four identical men and their small armament that was neatly scattered around the suite.

"I think you have the wrong room," Dusty said as he crossed his arms over his chest, smiling with that jovial charm of his he liked to exhibit around civilians.

The young man pulled his thoughts back from wherever they had been and nervously scratched at the back of his head. "Um, I've been asked to summon one of you called Jas."

Dusty turned to Jas and winked at him. "Taylir Les'ika akay vaar'tur."

Jas fought to keep his heart from rushing while he tried to contain his embarrassment in front of Dusty, especially since his brother had just told him to "hold Les'ika until morning," and Jas knew exactly what Dusty meant by that.

Standing up, Jas put his buy'ce onto the bed and looked at the messenger, pushing aside the less-than-noble thoughts about being brought to Les'ika's bedchamber. "I'm Jas."

The boy took a quick look at Jas in his bodysuit. "She would consider it disrespectful if you came to see her looking like that."

Feeling a nervous swell in his chest that someone might have made arrangements for him to see Les'ika, Jas moved swiftly and set his armor back on. He glanced at the buy'ce, but decided to leave it on the bed, as the last thing he wanted to do was hide from her again. Turning to the messenger, Jas merely raised an eyebrow to silently question his appearance.

"That's good. Follow me," the boy said cheerfully as he turned and started down the hallway.

Jas followed the messenger, memorizing every turn they took down the long corridors. He let his eyes absorb the artwork and historical artifacts as they went, wondering briefly just how many paintings there were throughout the palace. He saw everything from ancient armor-clad heroes to flower arrangements. The pieces of ancient weaponry that also lined the hallways were antique swords and blades, looking like something out of a fantasy story from an era long past that Jas couldn't even imagine.

A few minutes later, they arrived at a small room, and the messenger left Jas, telling him that he was to wait there for her. Now, Jas paced nervously about this tiny chamber where the walls were covered with giant tapestries depicting scenes of battles and meadows full of flutter-winged insects on top of orchids. Jas had looked to each of the different tapestries, but none of them could hold his attention for long. He knew he shouldn't have accepted this invitation and that he belonged with his brothers. Still, his heart jumped at the thought that he would have one last chance to be with Les'ika, one last chance to hold her and prolong their goodbye for just a little longer.

A set of footsteps echoed down the hallway, and the sound of them dropped Jas' stomach to the floor. He knew how the princess walked, and this was not the sound her feet made. What he heard was light and graceful, practiced with great care, and it was a completely different kind of movement from the princess' gait. Les'ika had always walked as though trying to hide, and her steps were cautious sometimes overly careful.

"Thank you for coming," a female voice said.

Jas suddenly turned and felt his chest drop out from beneath him, his suspicions confirmed, as the voice certainly did not belong to Les'ika, but rather her cousin, Janelle Napith.

The sweet floral perfume that this woman wore struck Jas like some kind of blaster bolt. Its scent was intoxicating, flowery like the Cerulean Lily but vibrant like some kind of fresh fruit. Jas considered that her perfume may seem light upon her to the entourage that was accustomed to being in her presence, but the scent was overwhelming to him, blocking his other senses as it threatened to suffocate him in its richness.

He swallowed hard and brought his eyes to the young woman in the room. Her golden hair curled around her shoulders in loose spiraled ringlets, and her light skin was soft, nearly fragile in its smoothness. Her green eyes held strength but could also hold the stare of anyone she wished. She exuded a certain kind of charisma, and she was a woman who knew how to capture her audience.

Jas glanced over her and saw that her body was shaped in the curves that men found appealing, as the green dress that covered her body accentuated those curves while drawing attention to the color of her eyes.

Jas pulled his eyes away and looked to anything else in the room that he could. This woman was far too mesmerizing, far too aware of her charismatic gifts. She had been trained well in her skills, and she would certainly make the formidable queen that Les'ika wanted her to become in her place. Jas, however, could not ignore the sinking feeling he had that he was about to be interrogated by this woman rather than receive gratitude for saving her younger cousin.

Suddenly, the interrogation mantra that all clones were taught began to play in his mind. Jas, Commando, Crimson Squad, number RC-1147.

"I'm sorry to have misled you by being so vague," Janelle apologized. "I feared you would not have taken my invitation if you knew it came from me."

Jas heard the genuine emotion in her voice, and he should have realized by the ambiguity of the message he was given that it would never have come from the princess. Les'ika was far too honest, unable to be so devious, simply because she knew no other way. Feeling betrayed and resentful that he had been deceived about seeing Les'ika, Jas asked as casually as he could, "Why have you requested me?"

"I wanted to thank you for risking your lives to bring my cousin back home safely, but more importantly, I wanted your personal debriefing," she admitted. "I was there for the official report. Now, I want the unofficial one."

Jas brought his eyes to hers, refusing to fall into the alluring trap he saw in them. Jas, Commando, Crimson Squad, number RC-1147. "What do you classify as unofficial?"

"Arlesse has grown fond of you..."

Jas felt his eyes widen slightly and forced himself to push it away. Jas, Commando, Crimson Squad, number RC-1147.

The Duchess suddenly reworded her statement, feigning that she had made a careless mistake with her words. Jas, however, noted differently that she had been very particular and had chosen her verbal slip on purpose. "...Fond of clones, men in the army much like yourself. She has expressed a want to do something in gratitude for the men who have been assigned here on Tochin."

Jas swallowed shallowly, doing all he could to continue hiding exactly what happened in that forest. "Apparently, we made an impression on her."

"Of that I am certain," the duchess acknowledged. "Arlesse is also saddened by your sudden deployment. She didn't think your type of unit would have returned to war quite so quickly."

"That is the nature of war, Ma'am," he told her. "Orders come without warning."

"That is true," she nodded. Stepping towards one of the tapestries and touching an elegant hand upon a tassel to untangle it, she asked, "Will you be saying goodbye to her? It seems you owe her that much."

Jas, Commando, Crimson Squad, number RC-1147. "I'm afraid I don't follow your meaning."

"You're rather protective of her," the duchess said turning back to Jas now, her eyes seeming to hold him in place. "You are concerned for her safety and her well-being."

Jas glanced at the scene on the tapestry of the wild equinine mammal that was on its hind legs seeming to be defiant of the storm clouds rolling in from the distance. He decided to try turning the conversation away from himself while he could. "Tarj is a good man. He'll do his job to keep her safe."

Janelle laughed lightly, refusing to play into Jas' attempt to distract her questions. "I mean you and your fellow squad mates in Crimson. You have taken care of her for the past few days, and I believe that you all still feel an obligation to her."

"We were following orders," Jas said shortly as he turned his head slightly to the duchess. "We were required to bring her home safely."

"But, you were prepared to die for her, weren't you?"

Jas, Commando, Crimson Squad, number RC-1147. "She was our mission objective, and we were to protect her at all costs."

"That's the official answer," the duchess said softly. "Your eyes tell another one."

Jas swallowed hard, wondering how the duchess could possibly see past his interrogation face. He couldn't understand how she could ever see the churning of emotions that took place beneath his hardened façade.

Janelle now brought her eyes to Jas, and the green of them seemed to pierce into him, holding him in place like some kind of restraint. "Arlesse's father sheltered her and protected her because he was afraid that she would leave him, just like her mother did. In his doing so, he made his daughter nearly useless as a leader, and she is now entirely dependent upon others to survive the realities of the world. This palace is all she's ever known her entire life, and clearly, there was something special about your squad that enabled her to survive such an ordeal as the one she underwent in the last few days. So either you see her as a helpless child who needs your protection or you see her more clearly than any of us."

Jas forced himself not to clench his fists as he replied, and tried to keep himself exhibiting a loose posture. He had to make his words carefully because this cousin of Les'ika's seemed to know far too much already. "We rescued a frightened woman who was emotionally tortured by being forced to watch a cloned man die brutally. She depended on us to be her stability and her strength, and in the days after her ordeal, she was the one who surprised us with her compassion and her generosity. So, if you wish to accuse me of seeing her more clearly than any of you, then it is true. The princess is much more than the child she is perceived to be by those closest to her."

Duchess Janelle did not relent her stare, but her voice was no longer in the stiffness of an interrogator. Instead, it was full of pity and sympathy. "Arlesse was not given much of a chance to live in reality, and she still believes in wishes and dreams. Her future requires someone in it who will teach her everything that has been denied to her, yet she needs someone to protect her at the same time. I'm afraid such a companion is difficult to find, and there is little interest from her own peers because of those limitations."

Jas felt his chest tighten, thinking back to how Les'ika had been nearly destroyed by just words, the convincing sounding twist of truth that Zech had planted in her mind and how it caused her to doubt everything she had ever known her entire life. Jas knew that if Zech's treatment of her was any indication as to how these supposed nobles talked to her behind these palace walls, then he had done right to suggest Tarj as her ally.

Lowering his eyes to the floor, Jas had the sudden image in his mind of Les'ika searching for happiness and kindness, seeking a man who would keep her safe while never undermining her. Looking up again, Jas watched in his memory Les'ika's hand upon his armor and how it began the tumble of his emotions that he never knew could exist. He thought about how days later he had taken her hands and gently forced her to fire his blaster, the lesson in defense something he was certain she would never have behind the walls of the palace.

Jas had been aware of how his emotions for Les'ika seemed to only strengthen in their short time together, and he knew she felt equally for him. Even though Jas had seen how Les'ika would receive her father's constant compassion, the thought of leaving her caused him pain in a way he didn't believe was possible, and it gave him the sensation of having a hole in his chest, an emptiness that would forever be there once he departs from Tochin soil.

"I don't understand why you are telling me this," Jas finally said, doing his best to keep concealed the emotions that wanted to rip free from his mental box, the emotions that tried more than once to get him to explore the palace and find Les'ika.

"Remove from the equation her status as royalty and your accelerated aging," Duchess Janelle challenged. "And tell me honestly how you truly feel about her."

Jas closed his eyes and took a silent breath. If there was any way in the entire shabla universe, he would never leave Les'ika. Opening his eyes, he told the Duchess, "I believe you see more clearly than you admit, and I will neither confirm nor deny what you believe to know."

"I perceived as much," she responded gently, smiling warmly for him. "Arlesse's father and I have seen that she has returned changed, but she remains as silent as you regarding the particulars of her ordeal. In my experiences, silence is often louder than words, and my task here was to gain better knowledge as to who you really are. I am relieved to know that honest men still exist in the galaxy, and I truly am sorry to have deceived you. It was a necessary evil for the undertaking I was requested to fulfill."

Moving towards the hallway now, Janelle turned back for a brief moment. "Rian, the messenger boy who brought you here, will escort you back to your squad now."

Jas opened his mouth to inquire further about the duchess' quest for information from him but stopped short as he wondered just how he was going to ask such a question without incriminating either himself or Les'ika, and by the time he had come to any kind of coherent thought, the duchess was long gone.

Rian smiled cheerfully as he returned, the youthful awe still glazed in his eyes as he looked over the gray-colored armor. As he led Jas out of the room, he boasted proudly, "I'm going to join the Tochin guards when I turn eighteen."

Jas put a hand on the boy's shoulder and stopped him. "The glory is never worth the sacrifice."

Then, moving ahead of the confused messenger, Jas worked his way down the hallways and back to his brothers.

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