Chapter Text
The mechanical hydraulics of C-3P0's limbs announced his presence as he ambled before Bernie. Bernie paused to look up across the desk, the unfinished message to Dom blinking before her, its current incarnation a jumble of rewrites.
"Major Wolfe, Captain Antilles has asked that you join him on the bridge for the descent to Doaba Guerfel."
"Thank you, C-3P0." Bernie took a deep breath, the final disruption both irritating and welcome. She stood up, leaning towards the message generator to wave a hand across the projected screen, deleting what felt like verbal scraps. Looking up at C-3P0 her she covered a yawn before uttering, "I don't suppose you have much experience with lightsaber design?"
Though the golden droid's neck was stationary, he managed to angle his body at such a degree that he appeared to respond with a tilt of the head, "I have been programmed in thirty-three cultural methods of project management across twenty-five Jedi homeworlds."
That got Bernie's attention.
"Can you scavenge parts?"
C-3P0 replied in clipped tones that would have sounded indignant if they weren't almost enthusiastic, "I can plan and execute procurement protocols based on any design provided."
"Do you have designs available?"
"There is an R2 unit aboard Tantive IV who possesses the necessary schematics for a select number of lightsaber models. Though his demeanor is little more than adequate, he should be willing to provide a necessary parts list."
Bernie stifled a smile, "This R2 unit sounds useful. I will speak to the Captain about his authorization for this project." Bernie offered instructions to map out her plan.
"Won't you require my services at the food security conference?" C-3P0 chirped.
Bernie laughed to her eyes, "Were I to arrive on Corellia with a protocol droid, I might never live it down." Bernie realized that if any droid could feel consernation, it was this one. She continued quickly, "This task is of greatest importance to me."
C-3P0 must have detected the sincerity in her voice, sounding mollified he agreed, "I will await the captain's authorization."
Bernie walked to the bridge with a feeling of relief. Delegates secure, loose ends tied, and coasting on a few hours of sleep, Bernie looked at the blue-green marble through the neaest viewport. "Welcome home," she whispered to herself.
******
Even the shipping docks of Doaba Guerfel were lavish by most planetary standards. The city's long history of accommodating those with wealth and power had created what could only be considered a red-carpet infrastructure. Serena had never visited Corellia as a dignitary, and had chosen to land at the port instead of the conference center in the name of frugality. Truth be told, she was as interested in avoiding the pomp and attention of a formal arrival as she was committed to stretching every Alderaanian credit as far as it could go.
Doaba Guerfel made their Alderaanian penthouse seem middle class. Conference organizers had argued that it was one of the few cities with sufficient capacity to host the gathering, and that its history of political neutrality was necessary. Serena couldn't fathom how such luxury would facilitate discourse on interplanetary food security and trade agreements. Were coursed meals vital to negotiating supply routes? Could you really sense the urgency of malnutrition if you yourself were constantly surrounded by interplanetary delicacies?
As members of their party descended the ship's ramp, Serena felt the warmth of Corell, the system's sun. She took a moment to enjoy the breeze that swept across her skin and smell the ocean salt it carried. The city skyline splayed before her. Just beyond the port, light from the late-morning sun glittered across the azure surface of the river as it snaked through the estuary into the distant ocean. Doaba Guerfel had once been a small retreat village, reserved as a playground for the elite. Since opening itself to the broader public, its expansion had created a handful of modern towers that had been built into the mountain face, creating breathtaking vistas that included mountain ranges and sandy beaches.
Serena couldn't help but be taken with the architectural talent that blended modern materials with rustic, natural beauty. Well, she reflected to herself, I don't have to be miserable while I'm here. She glanced over at Bernie, wondering where the Jedi had been born. Serena's relationship with Raf had taught her that most Jedi were connected to their home planets in name only, having been brought into the Order at an early enough age that many thought of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant as their home. She thought back to the first days with Bernie, who had discussed her Corellian heritage and family without reservation. One glance at Bernie confirmed what Serena suspected, Corellia was her home. She could see it with each deep breath the Jedi Master took, as if the air tasted right.
Jedi Effanga approached Serena, flourishing the glossy wooden walking cane that had become her latest accoutrement and catching the senator's quick glance away from Master Wolfe. "Senator," she said with a smile, "I plan to accompany you to the resort and find transport to Tyrena as a tourist. May even have to take a turn towards the Golden Beaches."
Serena laughed, "Ah, such sacrifice." She would miss Mo's good nature, though she found the Jedi more perceptive than she was comfortable admitting. Mo had a natural talent for reading others, and a willingness to leverage that information into action. Serena could see why Master Hanssen chose Mo to recruit pilots and mechanics in major cities, soliciting people and intelligence in hubs such as Tyrena and Coronet. The fact that her beauty matched her energy didn't hurt either.
"If you don't mind me saying, Senator," Mo offered while leaning in, "Tyrena's Festival of Love is just a few weeks away." Serena turned slightly towards the energetic Jedi Knight, one eyebrow raised skeptically to Mo who continued without shame, "Not a bad time to visit Corellia, when Spring is the air." Before Serena could issue a retort, Bernie walked towards them, missing the sly wink Mo shot to the senator.
"Shall we head to the resort, Senator?" Bernie gestured to the waiting ground transport at the shuttle station ahead.
Serena's eyes sparkled and she flashed a quick smile, ignoring Mo's grin. "No time like the present."
As they passed an adjacent loading dock, a sharp voice called out.
"Griz?"
Bernie turned to look over her shoulder towards the dock. Serena slowed, one eyebrow raised. The small delegation slowed with her, naturally curious. Bernie sighed almost imperceptibly, and whispered to Serena, "If you'll please excuse me." She left the group and walked slowly towards a Corellian freighter docked behind a large cargo lift. A thin, hawkish woman appeared from behind the equipment, her skin pale and eyes sharp. The woman's long, red hair had been pulled into a haphazard bun which only emphasized her pronounced cheekbones. A brown leather jacket with intricate seams contrasted the lighter cotton breeches that were consumed at the knees by the long, black boots that were never out of fashion on Corellia. Serena observed a blaster slung across the woman's hip, and an air of smugness in the way that she looked Bernie up and down.
Bernie paused for just a moment before walking towards her.
"Jac?"
The woman's face lit up for a moment with a smile of recognition. Just as quickly as the light was there it was gone again, her expression darkening with the speed of a summer storm. As Bernie approached, the mysterious woman walked forward, raised a hand, and slapped the Jedi. The delegation came to a complete stop, all heads turned towards the scene unfolding before their eyes. Serena was as stunned as if she had been slapped herself. She had never once seen anyone react to Bernie in this way. Morven was bemused, but Mo's eyes suggested that she was not surprised that the Master could elicit such a reaction.
Bernie stood before the stranger, unphased. "I suppose I deserved that," she said. Rubbing her jaw with one hand, she worked to let go of the tightness that ran through it. "Actually," Bernie continued, "Had you given me what I deserved, you would have used the back of your hand." The Jedi's eyes narrowed and mouth turned at the corners into a tight smile.
Jac's demeanor shifted, her face taut but her eyes smiled dangerously. "Not as easy to wind up anymore, eh Griz? Long walks and meditation aren't meant for a proper Corellian."
Serena watched Bernie's expression, trying to get a sense of the conversation and detect where this was all headed. Morven started to move towards the pair, but Mo placed a hand on her forearm, shaking her head once.
The light in Bernie's eyes faded just a bit, and she looked down, replying too softly for anyone but Jac to hear. "Sometimes, you lose, Jac, that's why it's called a gamble."
Seeing that her verbal blow had landed, Jac softened her attack on the Jedi. "Perhaps that's why you should never gamble with someone else's credits."
Bernie looked up, casting a quick glance towards the delegation before shifting her gaze to the ground. Serena had never seen the Jedi lose confidence before this moment. She felt a tinge of jealousy well up as she considered the nature of the relationship Bernie shared with this woman, and chided herself for the lack of decorum her open curiosity allowed.
Jason approached Serena, "What do you think Major Bernie does to make women want to slap her?"
Morven covered her mouth with one hand to hide a smile. Serena turned slightly to acknowledge Jason, head tilted and eyes narrow with a tight smile and a short sigh. She put a hand on her nephew's shoulder, pushing him forward gently in the direction of their accommodations, "Best to discuss this later, Jason."
Before he could reply, Serena turned to the group, gesturing for her colleagues to move forward with them, "Let us continue to our meeting, we don't want to keep our hosts waiting." The delegates turned and resumed their walk to the resort shuttle, as members quietly exchanged gossip and speculated on what they had just seen. Morven subtly guided Jason to follow the group. Serena was relieved to offer Bernie some privacy, though simultaneously unnerved by her intense interest to uncover the history that the women were clearly discussing.
She signaled to Morven, directing in low tones, "Morven, perhaps you could wait for Major Wolfe and direct her to meet us in the delegate suite when she has," Serena paused, her eyes tightening, "When she has sorted out the moment's domestic."
Morven looked in the Jedi's direction, and tried to evade the request, "No bother to just wait another moment or two?" Looking back at Serena, she sized up the lesser of two evils, "Right, and when the Major asks why you left without guard?"
"I'm sure Ms. Effanga will keep us quite safe." Serena looked to Mo for quick consent. Receiving an affirming nod and a wide grin from her new escort, Serena reached out to take her arm. "Besides, no need to rush the reunion." Serena glanced one last time in the direction of what appeared to be an increasingly personal discussion.
*****
As the afternoon's preliminary meetings came to a close, Serena watched Bernie enter the conference room, taking her place beside Mo, who was standing along the rear wall. The two spoke quietly, and Mo took her leave, having delayed departure to ensure that the senator remained in the company of a Jedi the entire time.
The representatives adjourned the meeting, and Serena found herself impatient to get through the standard exchange of pleasantries. She was proud that she was able to maintain her professionalism with even the most verbose colleagues. Finally able to exit the room, the Alderaanian Guard fell in behind Serena and Bernie as they walked through the corridors to the delegates' suite.
Serena slowed down, leaning in to tease Bernie with whispered scolding, "So much for keeping a low profile, Major." The Jedi kept her gaze forward, nodding slightly to acknowledge Serena. Serena pulled back, the absence of a sly response more startling than she would have liked to admit. Bernie nodded at the guards for a small group of dignitaries as they passed, and Serena picked up her pace, eager to settle into her room.
Leaving Bernie in the hallway, Serena walked into her wing of the suite without a word. She knew Bernie well enough to know that the Jedi would open up when she was ready, but she wasn't ready for intrusive desire to know what was happening, fueled by an unexpected thread of jealousy. Already dreading the formal dinner that was planned to kickoff the conference, she pulled off her shoes and grabbed an artfully crafted wine glass and accompanying decanter from the small bar that had been well stocked by her Corellian hosts. She savored the notes of this particular red wine, as it was almost as rare as coffee these days.
Shooing away the guilt that edged its way into her thoughts, she decided she had time for a soak in the enormous tub. The resort was situated beside an ancient spring. Someone brilliant had contrived to pipe the hot spring water directly into the stateroom suite baths. As Serena opened the large faucet, steam began to fill the room. She picked up a small vial of soaking oils that had been placed on the tub ledge. Appreciating how every want had been anticipated by the staff, she poured its contents into the tub, and watched the falling water churn a soft layer of bubbles across the bath's surface.
Sliding into the tub, Serena felt her muscles release. She propped her arms up on each side and leaned her head back against the stone ledge, bubbles swirling over her breasts, steam rising. She found her mind returning to the earlier confrontation between Bernie and the mystery woman. As much as she told herself that it was best to avoid thinking about it, she found herself drawn to the thought of the unassailable Jedi Master beholden to a powerful woman.
As she replayed the scene, Serena's memory transitioned into fantasy, one in which she replaced the redhead, confidently confronting Bernie. After slapping the Jedi, she saw herself tracing the curve of Bernie's jaw with the tip of her thumb. Her mind jumped to the way Bernie would part her lips at Serena's touch, their eyes locked.
Drawing her fingers lightly across her own collarbone, Serena closed her eyes to enjoy the feel of her own gentle caress. Letting go of self-judgment, Serena allowed one hand travel the length of her body. She navigated the punctuation of her hard nipple and the soft curve of her stomach until she reached the mound between her legs. She envisioned how it would feel to see raw desire in Bernie's eyes; what it would sound like to hear her name spoken with the edge of longing in the Jedi's low tones.
A distant sound signaling the door call ripped her from the fantasy, followed by the muffled sound of an intercom carrying the very voice she had just imagined.
"Serena, may I have a word before dinner?"
"Bernie?" Serena's voice was laced with the high tones of momentary panic. She cleared her throat. "Just one moment."
Reaching forward to signal the drain sensor, Serena found her mind rushing to construct a new fantasy, one in which the Jedi barged in out of concern for her safety. She pictured the startled look on the Bernie's face once she realized her intrusion on the intimate moment. Serena envisioned water sluicing over her own body as she stood, rivulets running down her breasts and hips, skin slick from the bath oils. Her mind's eye watched her Jedi's face transform from surprise to open lust as she stepped out of the tub and to let Bernie's eyes drink in her naked form.
Rising without an audience in the real world, Serena grabbed a soft robe from the hook beside the tub. She quickly toweled dry her hair until it was simply damp. Draping the towel over her shoulder, she opened the door to the suite to find Bernie sitting on the edge of an armchair perched forward, elbows on knees and fingers interlaced. At the sound of the door, she looked in Serena's direction. Though not the open lust of her fantasy, Serena saw the momentary distraction in Bernie's eyes as they swept across Serena's shape.
"I'm sorry to intrude." Bernie stood, breaking their connection and refocusing her gaze on the floral arrangement in the center of the room. "I have an unusual request."
"Go ahead."
"I would like to request a brief absence to attend to a personal matter." Bernie allowed her gaze to meet Serena's again.
Serena paused, pursing her lips as she considered the nature of the request. What could be so important that this fiercely loyal guardian was willing to walk away from her charge? Serena decided to push her luck. "When would you like for us to leave?"
Bernie's brow furrowed. "I'm sorry, Serena, us?"
"Yes, Major, or are you suggesting that you leave me on my own? You seem to have a penchant for ensuring that I am seldom alone these days, and it seems to be working, so what will it be?"
Bernie paused. It was clear that she had not anticipated this response. She looked down and frowned again, thinking. "If you are willing to coordinate your team to disguise your absence, I welcome your company."
Surprised by her decision, Serena agreed immediately. "After tomorrow's negotiations, the aides will handle major revisions for several days while delegates continue their meet and greet. I trust my team, but I must be back for the last two days. I will have Helna prepared to trade places on our way back from dinner tomorrow night."
"Good, we can discuss where we are headed once we have left the resort. Make sure you dress in layers for warmth. We will be back once the council reconvenes at the end of the week."
With that, she left without another word. Serena was intrigued.
*****
Bernie left Serena's quarters and unrolled the small note that she gripped in her palm since it had been handed to her by the child. She felt the desire to leave immediately. Had the tether of loyalty been to anyone else, she may have broken it.