so. Shortly after arriving, the team had discovered that whenever they talked about a particular food, theTaat would have a supply delivered within a few days. Concerned about squandering their hosts’ limited resources, Jaina had ordered the group to avoid talking about food in front of the Taat, then to avoid mentioning it at all.
Finally, Tesar Sebatyne flicked up a talon. “It may have been this one.”
“
May
have been?” Jaina asked. “Either you said something or you didn’t.”
Tesar’s dorsal scales rose in the Barabel equivalent of a blush. “This one
said
nothing. He thought it.”
“They can’t eavesdrop on thoughts,” Jaina said. “Someone else must have slipped.”
She glanced around the group, waiting. The others continued to search their memories, but no one recalled talking about food.
Finally, Zekk said, “I’m just happy it’s thakitillo instead of some skalrat or something.” Seated on a bench next to Jaina, he wore his black hair as long and ragged as he had in his youth, but that was all that remained the same. A late growth spurt had turned him into something of a human giant, standing two meters tall, with shoulders as broad as Lowbacca’s. “I thought Barabels liked to catch their own food.”
“When we can, but this one was thinking of our last meal aboard
Lady Luck
, and he alwayz tastes thakitillo when he rememberz Bela and Krasov and …” Tesar trailed off and glanced briefly in Jaina’s direction, quietly acknowledging the bond of grief they had come to share through the Myrkr mission. “… the otherz.”
Even that gentle reminder of her brother’s death—even seven years later—brought a pained hollow to Jaina’s chest. Usually, her duties as a Jedi Knight kept her too busy to dwell on such things, but there were still moments like these, when the terrible memory came crashing down on her like a Nkllonian firestorm.
“So maybe the Taat
are
eavesdropping on our thoughts,” Tahiri said, bringing Jaina’s attention back to the present. “If we’re sure no one said anything, that has to be it.”
Lowbacca let out a long Wookiee moan.
“I suppose we
will
have to avoid thinking about food,” Jainaagreed. “We’re Jedi. We can’t keep eating like Hutts while the Taat larvae starve.”
“It certainly takes the fun out of it,” Alema Rar agreed. The Twi’lek slipped a spoonful of thakitillo into her mouth, then bit into a curd and curled the tips of the long lekku hanging down her back. “Well,
most
of the fun.”
Zekk ate a spoonful, then asked, “Does it bother anyone that they’re listening to our thoughts?”
“It
should
,” Jaina replied. “We should feel a little uneasy and violated, shouldn’t we?”
Alema shrugged. “
Should
is for narrow minds. It makes
me
feel welcome.”
Jaina considered this for a moment, then nodded in agreement. “Same here—and valued. Zekk? You brought it up.”
“Just asking,” he said. “Doesn’t bother me, either.”
“I feel the same,” Tekli agreed. The furry little Chadra-Fan twitched her thick-ended snout. “Yet we avoid the battle-meld now because we dislike sharing feelings among ourselves.”
“That’s different,” Tahiri said. “
We
get on each other’s nerves.”
“To put it mildly,” Jaina said. “I’ll never forget how that blood hunger came over me the first time Tesar saw a rallop.”
“Or how twisted inside this one felt when Alema wanted to nest with that Rodian rope-wrestler.” Tesar fluttered his scales, then added, “It was a week before he could hunt again.”
Alema smiled at the memory, then said, “
Nesting
wasn’t what I had in mind.”
Lowbacca banged his bowl down on the bench next to him, groaning in distaste and weary resignation. After the war, Jaina and the other strike team members had begun to notice unexplained mood swings whenever they were together. It had taken Cilghal only a few days to diagnose the problem as a delayed reaction to the Jedi
Finally, Tesar Sebatyne flicked up a talon. “It may have been this one.”
“
May
have been?” Jaina asked. “Either you said something or you didn’t.”
Tesar’s dorsal scales rose in the Barabel equivalent of a blush. “This one
said
nothing. He thought it.”
“They can’t eavesdrop on thoughts,” Jaina said. “Someone else must have slipped.”
She glanced around the group, waiting. The others continued to search their memories, but no one recalled talking about food.
Finally, Zekk said, “I’m just happy it’s thakitillo instead of some skalrat or something.” Seated on a bench next to Jaina, he wore his black hair as long and ragged as he had in his youth, but that was all that remained the same. A late growth spurt had turned him into something of a human giant, standing two meters tall, with shoulders as broad as Lowbacca’s. “I thought Barabels liked to catch their own food.”
“When we can, but this one was thinking of our last meal aboard
Lady Luck
, and he alwayz tastes thakitillo when he rememberz Bela and Krasov and …” Tesar trailed off and glanced briefly in Jaina’s direction, quietly acknowledging the bond of grief they had come to share through the Myrkr mission. “… the otherz.”
Even that gentle reminder of her brother’s death—even seven years later—brought a pained hollow to Jaina’s chest. Usually, her duties as a Jedi Knight kept her too busy to dwell on such things, but there were still moments like these, when the terrible memory came crashing down on her like a Nkllonian firestorm.
“So maybe the Taat
are
eavesdropping on our thoughts,” Tahiri said, bringing Jaina’s attention back to the present. “If we’re sure no one said anything, that has to be it.”
Lowbacca let out a long Wookiee moan.
“I suppose we
will
have to avoid thinking about food,” Jainaagreed. “We’re Jedi. We can’t keep eating like Hutts while the Taat larvae starve.”
“It certainly takes the fun out of it,” Alema Rar agreed. The Twi’lek slipped a spoonful of thakitillo into her mouth, then bit into a curd and curled the tips of the long lekku hanging down her back. “Well,
most
of the fun.”
Zekk ate a spoonful, then asked, “Does it bother anyone that they’re listening to our thoughts?”
“It
should
,” Jaina replied. “We should feel a little uneasy and violated, shouldn’t we?”
Alema shrugged. “
Should
is for narrow minds. It makes
me
feel welcome.”
Jaina considered this for a moment, then nodded in agreement. “Same here—and valued. Zekk? You brought it up.”
“Just asking,” he said. “Doesn’t bother me, either.”
“I feel the same,” Tekli agreed. The furry little Chadra-Fan twitched her thick-ended snout. “Yet we avoid the battle-meld now because we dislike sharing feelings among ourselves.”
“That’s different,” Tahiri said. “
We
get on each other’s nerves.”
“To put it mildly,” Jaina said. “I’ll never forget how that blood hunger came over me the first time Tesar saw a rallop.”
“Or how twisted inside this one felt when Alema wanted to nest with that Rodian rope-wrestler.” Tesar fluttered his scales, then added, “It was a week before he could hunt again.”
Alema smiled at the memory, then said, “
Nesting
wasn’t what I had in mind.”
Lowbacca banged his bowl down on the bench next to him, groaning in distaste and weary resignation. After the war, Jaina and the other strike team members had begun to notice unexplained mood swings whenever they were together. It had taken Cilghal only a few days to diagnose the problem as a delayed reaction to the Jedi
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