And, after some time of hesitating, maybe weighing the value of the encounter, considering his own rank and the implications of sitting on the floor, thinking until smoke starts steaming out of his ears, he finally gives up and just sits down, the black ends of his coat squishing up in the unusual position.

“Say, sir, can I call you just Fern?”

“Huh? Oh, uh, um… Sure. This situation is highly non-standard, so I guess honorifics between low ranking people like us is… Okay? Maybe?” He pulls up his knees to his chest, clutching his arms around them. The stiff fabric isn’t used to the movement, but Fern himself seems almost too familiar with it.

“Fern it is! Then, since we’re on first-name-basis, it means you gotta call me Mort. Right? That’s how it works even in space, right?” I say, hoping I’m not acting like some immense doofus just as is.

He stares me in the eye for a few seconds, eyebrows furrowed. “Uh. Yeah? Sure, I think that’s… Alright. Um, will do. Mort.” Considering the way he said it, it seems my name is like some bitter vegetable in his mouth, and he isn’t sure what to think of it. “I guess it’s only right, I mean, if the Commander is allowed to call you by your name… Hrm. This is a strange situation. The Commander talks about you like you’re a one-of-a-kind creature, but since you can speak basic and have some form of manners - I think - and, furthermore, a name, wouldn’t that suggest you’ve been raised by someone?”

Uh. I have? Well, technically I have, once upon a time, but I don’t think they’d take me seriously if I say ‘oh I actually grew up on a planet that doesn’t exist and I was a human and my parents named me Mortholomew because they were bible-crazed lunatics who thought that was a normal name’, no, I think they’d just be more likely to believe I was really an alien.

“Nah, no worries, just me.” Going by the way he’s staring at me, maybe telling him I come from Earth would’ve gone over better. “The, uh… the space taught me. Yes.” Oh god. He’s looking at me even weirder. “All around. It, uh… Talked to me. Yeah?”

Fern makes a few movements in the air, his face squished together like he ate a lemon whole. “You were raised by the Force?”

Force. Uh. Wait, I’ve heard that term before! I think? Wasn’t that the magic thing that the Jedi space wizards used?

Fuck it. Sure. We’ll pretend like that makes sense. “Yes. The Force raised me.” I even do a thumbs-up just to prove it.

“...It feels wrong but I’m also not knowledgeable enough about the Force to be able to say if you’re wrong or not. Personally, I’d tell you to keep that to yourself though, I mean-, if some people find out you’ve got the Force or whatever you’ve got, I think you’d be in big trouble.”

Huh? “What’s that mean?”

His face seems deeply conflicted. “I’m not sure if… Well, okay, people who can use the Force are either good or bad, yeah? And if you’re bad, you’ll be executed on the spot, and if you’re good, you might get drafted to become a good one, but from what I’ve been told, even though there’s a big show of being a good one, behind the scenes, it’s… it’s really tough.”

“But they turn out good in the end, right? Isn’t that a good thing in all?” I ask wearily, pulling up my legs to imitate him.

“I-, I guess so? I’m not sure. There’s a lot of weird information about what’s going on behind the scenes what with the Inquisitors, but there’s not much to actually know if you aren't one of them. But, Mort, heed my word. Try not to meet any Inquisitors. They’ll drag you into victory and they won’t care for your life. It’s for the greater good, but if you can choose not to meet them, then… don’t.” Something in his voice speaks of experience. Something speaks of regret.

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I… I don’t know how to respond to that. Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised that the Inquisitor guys aren’t 100% good? This isn’t some magical fairyland; this is space.

And the space wizards are people.

If they’re ready to sacrifice the little dude to save the most people they can, I think that’s a good thing, although I don’t think I’d like to be sacrificed myself. Or to do the sacrificing either. Space wars are beyond my area of expertise, I’m just a space octopus! Do Earth octopi interfere in Earth politics to tell their opinions? Not so.

Alright. I’ll remember that Inquisitors are people and aren’t fully good but can also do bad, if only for the greater good.

...Does the same morality stay true for Jedi?

Hrm. That’s a tough one. That Jedi temple was really cool, but just because someone has cool architecture doesn’t mean their morality is just as cool. But if Inquisitors are humans who can do bad despite their good, then it’d mean that Jedi are also humans who can do good despite their bad. Man, to think that the world would be on a greyscale even in space… Wack.

Oh, shoot, we’ve both been quiet for a while here. I got lost in thoughts and, by the look of it, I think he’s done the exact same thing. But after going from weeks (months? Years?) of constant silence and then straight to constant talking, this silence-when-we-could-be-talking feels terrible.

Better get the conversation back started.

“So, uh, what do you think they’re talking about in there?” I ask half-heartedly. I mean, I have no idea what they’re talking about, so there’s little chance he’s got a better idea, so…

“They’re most likely discussing the terms of your containment. From what I’ve heard, during your stay on this starship, you’ll stay in the same sleeping area as a group of stormtroopers, but once we get to the Outbound Flight, that’s highly subject to change. I haven’t met the man myself, but from what the Lieutenant has told me of Commodore Aaln, he’s not the kind of man interested in, well…” he gives me a contemplative look. “Eccentric elements. Kind of weird what with his posting out here, but few are posted with the 101’st task force out of competence.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It means,” he says like a man who understands it too well, “that almost all officers out here are posted for political reasons. To get them out of the way, to get them killed, to keep them from rising in the ranks… It’s a hodge-podge of either amazing individuals whose rivals had better connections or just straight-up incompetent individuals who’ll do less harm here than in the inner core.” He gives a dry chuckle. “Oh, and people who were in the wrong place at the wrong time, of course.”

Hm. “Which one are you?”

He startles for a moment. “Heh, that’s, um. N-, neither. I don’t… That’s not the kind of stuff that-, did the Force teach you those manners?” A dry laugh escapes his lips like a wheeze.

“Hey, what the Force did and didn’t teach me is none of your business!” I say in a vague defence of the way my parents raised me.

“I feel the exact same about why I’m here.” The look he gives me tells me everything I need to know. Oh, right, erm. Yeah. Maybe asking people if they got posted out here for incompetence or rivalry is a bit rude… He turns away to gaze at the wall again. “What I’m trying to say is that Commodore Aaln is far from happy to be out here, and if the Commander comes aboard the Outbound Flight expecting room for you, you’re not likely to be kept anywhere luxurious.”

“Anywhere’s better than out in space.”

He shrugs. “I wouldn’t know, I’ve never been flightless out in space, and I aim to keep it that way.” Some sort of thought seems to light up behind his eyes and he turns to me. “I just-, Mort, are you really that massive thing out there?”

“Uh, what massive-, oh! Yeah, I am! Though I’m no threat to you people, I swear!”

He pulls his knees closer to his chest. “Kind of hard to believe just looking at you. You hardly look like any known alien, apart from maybe a one-tailed Twi’lek, but even then you’ve got things I can’t recall on any other creature.” He pauses for a moment, a thin smile pulling at his lips. “And you’re short, too!”

Ack, an insult! “Hey, I tried my best to make my body the right size! I just-, I just happened to measure it out wrong!”

His smile lingers on his face a few seconds before his thoughts kick back in. “Hang on. You-, what, you made that body yourself?”

“Well… yeah. I did the same with my bigger body?”

“That doesn’t sound very plausible. And even if you could do that, which kind of makes sense if you’re able to grow larger like you’ve said, then why in the world would you, considering your sentience, choose to make your body look like-, like that? It makes no sense! Unless you wanted to look like a massive rathtar.”

“Fern, I designed that body when I still thought I was alone in all of space! I just needed to be able to eat a lot of asteroids at once, and that branching body was best suited for it. And then I found Typhin and I made this body, and-,”

“Sure, sure. We’ve already discussed that. Well, ‘we’, more like ‘they’, but…”

Oho? Is that an opportunity I sense? “What’d you talk about?”