Jedi Padawan Quest (Star Wars)

XI: Tribulations and Triumphs?


Nima had made mistakes before. She was far from perfect, and she knew that in light of what she'd done before that she could have spent a long time considering it. She could have weighed so many pros and cons. Instead, by the second breath, the…

Was it even a decision? When she sank down into the Force, the waters barely rippling, it didn't feel like a decision. Instead, what it felt like was an inevitability. In the Force she didn't act or think bounded by her past, she simply said what she had to say, and what she was always going to say. "You're free to go, but I'd like to ask you to promise me, by your word, that you won't sneak out again. Consider your career. In a year or two you'll be out of the Temple, you'll be a Padawan and you can see the world all you want. And," and here Nima startled herself, "If you truly wish to be outside the Temple here and now more than anything, then consider your path."

"You sound like Yoda," Jayne said. "I want to be a Jedi, yes, if that's what you're asking." He nodded at Nima, and then glanced over at Wessen, who was still in a good mood, and was shifting this way and that.

"Thank you," Nima said. "I hope we didn't scare you."

"No, you didn't. But what's that powder?"

"Well," Wessen said, carefully. "You might want to take a shower or… six or seven?" She considered the issue, fingers fidgeting, her whole body stiff with embarrassment. "Sorry."

"Well, that's what I get," Jayne said. "And yes, I promise I'll not leave the Temple. Maybe I can find a Master early." He shook his head, his lips pursing just a little bit as he considered it. "Could you help me take the dishes up? I'm worried about dropping one of them if I haul them all up at once."

"Ah. O-of course," Wessen said, looking down. She seemed to have retreated into herself a little, but Nima could still feel her emotions, happy and a little startled despite the embarrassment, still trying to cope with the fact that Jayne was the ghost.

Certainly, it wasn't what Nima expected. No doubt any reports of seeing white were just rumors or wild guesses, or assumptions about what a ghost would look like. "Did anyone ever see you?"

"Once or twice, though I've started on working how to hide. But they never got a good look at me," Jayne said. "It was always at a distance. One second, I need to go get the clothes, then. I think… or, wait. I could just keep them there."

Nima considered them for a moment. "Where did you get them?"

"There are costumes for training… also, missions," Jayne said, starting to retreat slightly into himself as well, though in a very different way from Wessen. He bit his lip. "I really liked those clothes so I… borrowed them."

Nima looked over at Wessen, raising an eyebrow, unable to help but remember…

"I-I," Wessen began, guiltily.

"Were you planning on giving them back?" Nima asked.

"Well. Eventually." Jayne looked away, and now Nima had two embarrassed people on her hands.

"When you got too big for them?" Nima asked herself, though she knew the answers. In the Force their emotions were very obvious, each sharply embarrassed and yet… also almost feeling out towards each other, wondering at the other's experiences. Maybe Jayne and Wessen could be friends too.

Nima thought back to the clothes. They'd been street clothes, which was to say that Nima didn't know much about them, but they'd been… nice enough looking? Soft colors and bright colors alike: blues, pinks, purples, light reds, something striking enough that Nima, used to the Temple and its often-similar garb, wondered how a person could possibly blend in wearing them. Did that mean that everyone dressed like that out there? Well, it certainly seemed possible, Nima thought, with a mental shrug.

It probably said something about Nima Tyruti, but as they walked off, Nima decided that perhaps a little gentle teasing was in store.

*******

When the three of them were long gone, the figures appeared. Both of them were male, and human, dressed very differently but equally blueish-white, standing over the crack and considering what they had just seen.

If Nima had been sitting right at their feet, she could not have understood their words. But she could have, perhaps, understood the emotions in the Force.

One of them was all edges, a jagged statue, while the other was soft, almost but not quite yielding, and both were in curious moods. They were both curious, and yet there was some deeper emotion playing below the surface as the first one spoke.

"Does this place have a library?"

"It must," the second one said. "Perhaps we could go up there."

"And what could they do, if they found us? You know better than any the limitations of even the most righteous."

"The children seemed… innocent. Surely if--"

"Surely if what? They were strange, as was the alien. Can we trust them? Can we trust this… place?"

"If not, then what shall we do? Watch and wait? It's been so long. And I want to know."

"The Empire…" the first muttered, and then disappeared.

"That kid's clothing was interesting. Huh." Then the second one disappeared.

******

Life continued, at least for some people. Nima Tyruti had thought she was done with the nightmares, or at least at the point where they were infrequent, not to be concerned with. Instead, a new set of dreams began to fill their place, more dreams of her mother, and yet different in character.

Different enough that Nima began thinking of that grate, and the way out, wishing that Master Bell was present. It was hard to focus on hyperspace math problems or the history of the Sith Wars when all she could see when she closed her eyes was her mother crying.

Crying in a bathroom. Hunched over a little, as if her stomach hurt, hand pressed against the wall as if trying to drive it through.

And again.

Working longer hours, and there was something tense about every moment, her emotions fragile and right at the surface.

Dreams that just kept on coming.

She was miserable in her apartment, which looked odd. It was as if there was something missing? In fact, there were a lot of things missing, pieces of furniture, photos, knick-knacks. Something was definitely wrong.

Yet Nima couldn't quite figure out what it was. It felt like all those times where they had the initiates play with puzzles to try to learn how to work together and how to see things in perspective. The worst ones were the puzzles where if you knew about the event or creature it was showing it was so much easier than if you didn't: sometimes what mattered was what perspective you looked at things from. That was a simple enough lesson, and if a Jedi couldn't know that then they'd never be a diplomat, or a problem solver at all.

Mala, angry and frustrating, pacing and rehearsing something again and again in her mind. Nima couldn't know what it was, she just knew that it was said again and again, and yet it felt… as if the time to say it was earlier.

It just didn't make sense. Nima wished she knew where her Mom was. If she did, then perhaps she'd be able to do something about it. Instead she mediated more to keep it under control and tried to focus on other things to do.

It was possible to outrun troubles, to outwork troubles.

So when Mala began to work longer hours in the office, when Nima felt the stress and exhaustion, she knew that it was a strategy. That it was a technique, though not one any Jedi would teach or encourage.

But it was one she knew how to do as well.

In Art of Movement, the obstacle course on the day Nima finally ran fast enough from her problems was an aerial one. There were raised platforms, bars to grab on, gaps to leap, and all with the danger of falling, though there was safety equipment down below.

She took off in a run, her two lightsabers at her belt, feeling more concentrated and focused than she had in a long time. Her muscles were all taut and tense, and yet she wasn't stressed, she wasn't tired, she wasn't unhappy. She just was as she started the first section, leaping from platform to platform, just ahead of them tipping a little to try to spill her up. When she wasn't able to get enough momentum she'd leap off the wall to get farther.

In the Force, she was flowing like a swift river, never the same moment to moment, and yet lost in each of them in a way that denied the suffering that she dreamed of.

Nima Tyruti passed up the person who had started ahead of her and began climbing up another ladder.There was a section that involved passing through some air ducts, and it felt comfortable and familiar. She was sweating, and it was sliding down her lekku fast enough that she knew that after this she'd regret pushing herself this much, but it felt as if it was all working well. She dropped down at the end of the maze of ducts and stood up. There was a ledge, and then all the way across the room a set of bars hung from the ceiling. She slid along the edge of the wall, almost caught up with the next person. Before she even touched the hanging bars, she sensed the trap. As she climbed through the next set of bars, there'd be a sudden gout of lasers shooting at her. She'd have to move one-armed in order to keep her lightsaber ready. That, or move even faster than she was.

Nima didn't slow down as she leapt, swinging past Whie Malreaux, who was just slower than her today, she drew the lightsaber and fended off the blows one-handed. They came, flashing and hot, and she knew that her swings were slightly clumsy.

But if she'd tried to do it before she'd started two-saber fighting, she knew she wouldn't even be able to try as she landed and then sped up, sprinting, her legs aching, as she ran up and then leapt for a rope, grabbing it and beginning to ascend as fast as she could, up a repurposed ventilation shaft.

Whie was eating her dust, she might have thought if she was someone like Giska. But she was a Clan Squall, of course.

The final part was painfully easy. It was a room filled with dozens of laser bots, as well as dropping platforms. The lasers were as slow as the one on the first course, and she was able to use Fy-Tor-Ana's teaching to flow from ducking to leaping over an attack, never stopping and acting before she could even be endangered as she passed yet another initiate and slid down the ladder in a single smooth motion. At the bottom she drew both lightsabers, igniting them just in case there was one last challenge.

She was panting, dripping with sweat, and there were almost two-dozen initiates already done with the class and standing there, watching her.

Then some of them began to clap. The emotions washed over her as she tried to sort them out. Some of the boys and a few of the girls had clearly pushed themselves too hard, hearts still beating fast and faces red.

She felt envy, jealousy, pride, astonishment, and emotions she couldn't quite read, emotions that felt so private and intimate that Nima almost didn't want to be able to feel them. It didn't matter, since she couldn't interpret them, and yet she had a feeling that they must have to do with her.

Somehow, before Fy-Tor-Ana stepped up to her, she knew what she was going to hear.

"Wow, I think that's a record. At least for anyone under thirteen," Fy-Tor-Ana said, as Nima looked up at her. "Maybe even under fourteen. I'm going to have to play that back again. Good job." She patted Nima on the shoulder as the person who'd been right behind her and Whie both moved towards the ladder.

She'd never won one of these tests, not even once. She'd been about average, and then she'd been above average, and these last three courses she'd gotten into the top ten each time. So she knew she was getting better, if not as good as the real stand-outs.

Perhaps it was luck, or perhaps today the Force was strong with her, but she smiled wide and she could feel the strange emotions going taut, as if she were tugging at a wire. It was a little odd, this huge mix of emotions, and she wiped her forehead and went over to where Master Fy-Tor-Ana had put a cooler filled with water bottles.

She was in the process of guzzling one of them when Elize came up and patted her on the back. She managed to miss Nima's lekku, but just barely. Nima turned to look at her, feeling a complex mix of emotions roiling around in Elize.

Elize was jealous, she was in awe, she was glad for Nima and yet uncertain about what she was about to do. And buried deep down, small and passing, like a leaf dropping into a river, was another emotion, something more raw and hard to understand. But it felt oddly familiar to Nima, in a way she couldn't quite place.

She hadn't felt this exact emotion in someone else before, but that didn't change the double-take feeling that she should know what it was.

Elize was a dark-haired girl, with golden yellow skin and brown eyes, her face thin and given to cocky grins that showed off gleaming teeth. Her hair was woven with six beads. In the culture she was from, which was primarily found on the planet of Ophiuchus, whenever someone felt they had accomplished something, won something, or achieved some greater degree of attainment, they added a bead to their hair. Once, long ago before they'd gone to the stars, warriors had dueled each other, for of course any merits claimed could be challenged. Now, it was more likely to start an argument, or a contest between artists, lawyers, or engineers than anything like a fight. Each bead and its color had some deeply specific meaning. Nima had learned a lot about the culture, but the details on what each bead meant were saved for a later Diplomacy class, or perhaps she'd have been given a briefing on that if she had to go to Ophiuchus.

That'd make sense. Elize's beads were red, gold, and white respectively, two of each in her hair, which helped to determine her hair style multi-tailed hairstyle. "Hey, Nima. Good job there. Wanna blow this joint? We're done running. You look like you could use something to eat. I know a good cafe close to here."

Nima pressed two buttons, and the glow of her lightsabers faded away as she stowed them and considered it. She really wasn't used to people who were that direct… well, other than Ahsoka, of course. It made her feel like she was the shy one. And of course, any cafeteria around here wouldn't have munch-fungus bread. But, it was a chance to make a friend. "If Master Fy-Tor-Ana allows it."

"Yes. I'm just going to talk about scores, but if you want to get out of here?" The Jedi Master shrugged, and added, "You both did very well. First, and fourth. Not bad at all."

And that was that.

*******

Elize didn't even wait until they reached the small cafeteria to start talking. "I didn't do as well as I should do. It was the lasers. I had to slow down to keep from getting zapped by those. She's started to up the power on those, did you notice?"

"No," Nima said. She added, "I was pretty deep in the Force. I was the Force, at least for a while. I got lucky, though, or… something clicked so that I was able to do it so fully."

"Well, luck is one part of skill," Elize said. "You do everything right so that you can get lucky. And you've been getting better, I've noticed that." Elize's face was a little bit flushed as she began walking up a set of stairs, Nima just behind her. "You can see the lean muscle, it takes a lot of work to get that, right?"

"I've been working hard," Nima admitted. "Learning a new form is hard. It seems to combine Form V with many other elements."

"You know, I think it'd do well with Ataru, I bet. If you ever wanted to practice your leaps. You have a feel for it, you can tell that in the Force. It was great!"

"Thank you," Nima said. "I've always been impressed by your dedication to Ataru."

"If you've ever seen Yoda fight, then that's all…" Elize trailed off, shaking her head. "Have you heard any news about the raids over Ophiuchus?"

The planet was rather strongly pro-Republic, but because it was out at the edge of the Mid-Rim, it had suffered raids by pro-Confederate pirates, and even a droid ship or two. Just enough to try to draw off Republic resources to defend it. Jedi Knight Ni Bet and her padawan, a Devronian named Rorc had gone to try to deal with it, with as few forces as they thought adequate. The Jedi were stretched thin, and yet the Order could not help but believe in the ability for even a few Jedi to shift the course of a battle. If they didn't believe in that, then what were they doing?

"No, but I'm sure Knight Ni Bet has it under control," Nima said.

"I hope she does," Elize said, biting her lip. "Ryloth's all but free, so there's that!"

The last Separatist forces were almost driven off. Wat Tambor had been captured and it was a bit of good news in a sea of bloody battles.

The Jedi Order had to believe that Jedi could make a difference. But in under a month of battle over a dozen Jedi had died on some planet called Jabiim. It was a mess, a crisis that was spiralling out of control, threatening everything in the entire system and several around. There were rumors that Master Obi-Wan Kenobi was dead, rumors that all the Jedi were dead, rumors that all of them were secretly alive, rumors that Skywalker was being sent to relieve them, rumors that Windu was being sent to relieve them, rumors rumors rumors about every single battle, so many that Nima couldn't even begin to tear apart truth and lies.

Master Bell was apparently starting some sort of offensive. Or… so the rumors went. She hoped he had time to stop by, sometime soon, so she could ask him about her mother. "Yes," Nima said. "That's good. This war… it's not good for the Jedi. Or the galaxy."

"Right now, winning the war matters first," Elize said. "I know it's going to be bad, but I need to get in the war, I can't wait until someone selects me as Padawan."

"You won't have any problems with that," Nima said, as they turned a corner towards the cafe. "In a war like this."

"Well, you're helping your odds!" Elize said, enthusiastically.

Nima flushed, "I don't care about that. I'm doing this because I want to, not because I'm trying to seem more appealing as a Padawan."

"Oh, right, sorry for implying that." She stepped into the small cafeteria, which had just a dozen tables, and made her way towards the front, where the day's meal was being displayed. "Two of those yummy dishes you made last time, if you have any more?"

"The gumbo and mixed vegetables?" the portly human male in charge of this cafeteria said. "Coming right up. I'll bring it out!"

Nima smiled at him, and he nodded back at her.

Elize sat down first, and Nima sat down next to her, trying to relax a little. "So, how's… you had philosophy, right?" When Nima nodded she said, "How's that going?"

"Well… Master Vaal in philosophy is great. We've been talking about pacifism and the duties of a Jedi. He seems like he has something planned."

"Ah, right, so philosophy things. So you know Katarina?"

"She's very good at it, though very traditional," Nima said. Thoughtful, but very likely to take the stances that were most balanced, most careful.

"She's a very good warrior, along with Aydan. He's been a little different lately. Sorta intense. But that's Aydan, he's always been a bit of a joker," Elize said, her focus jumping faster than she did in a saber fight. "Sorry I talk about all of them like I know them that well, but I mostly just duel against them."

"Well, they say that's one way to get to know about someone," Nima admitted, her lekku twitching uncertainly.

"I find it's pretty true. We should duel sometime," Elize said. "If you wanted."

"We could," Nima said, considering the situation. "Are you talking the Clone class?"

"Not yet, but maybe I should? If I can find any time," Elize admitted, shaking her head, looking a little guilty. "I should work harder, but there's only so much you can do a day when you're practicing Ataru. It takes a lot out of you.

"I've heard that," Nima said.

The food finally came, and it looked pretty good, if a little heavily spiced. But Nima could eat anything, and so she worked on it as Elize asked questions about Nima's workout routine and gave answers in return.

"Oh, Scout. I see her sometimes. Good form, but she could use a little help with the footwork, I guess?" Elize said.

"I'll… find a way to tell her that."

"It's not bad, but I think if she took the lead more often, there'd be less time for people to use their advantages against her."

"Ah," Nima said.

It didn't always take time to center oneself, to be mindful of the Force. But every extra second to concentrate might simply increase the odds that they'd be drawing deep on the Force while she was using it as much as she could. Which was just plainly less than them.

"I… don't want to be rude," Elize said. "She's very strong. She has plenty to be proud of!"

"She does, she really does. I've trained with Scout for a while, and I don't know how I could keep up her schedule," Nima said with a nod. She took a sip of the gumbo. It was pretty good, though very rich, and she kept up the eating as they kept on the back and forth. It was all very cursory, in one sense. Just talking about classes, but Elize seemed affable enough, and she wasn't a bad person. A little quick to speak her mind, but that was hardly the worst thing.

At least, not to Nima's mind. Those who didn't speak up had bigger problems, when it came down to it.

So Nima thought she'd probably get along well with Nima's other friends. If she prepped them right. Maybe she should. Making new friends was good, and sharing them was good as well… though she knew that sometimes people just didn't get along.

Nima smiled and laughed and answered questions and questioned answers until her next class, her mother's sorrow almost forgotten.

******

"Very well," Master Vaal said, formally. "This will be the next two months of work. It's simple. At the end of every segment, as some call it, we have a paper. The one right before the war was actually on the Grey Paladins and the morality of allowing heterodox factions to use the Temple. It was an interesting debate, all around. The one that included Geonosis had an examination of the right to rebellion. This time, you're going to have to present on the rules and laws of war, in a moral sense. What is and is not allowable and allowed. You will write a paper in this. It can be of any length, as long as it suffices to present your arguments. You are encouraged to use the reading you've done on the topic. If you use the opinions of any philosophers, Jedi or otherwise, you are to name them and cite where this can be found. Though I know most of them."

Nima took a breath. A paper? This was definitely going to take some time, but more than a few people in the circle, surrounding Master Vaal, looked almost eager. And it did seem like a pretty interesting topic.

Nima didn't know how she felt about it… or rather, the specifics.

"A paper?" Katarina asked, hand up. "Do not Jedi have to make quick decisions?"

"This is true. We trust in our instinct, and our feelings, when they are flowing with the Force, but instinct is built by many roads, and there is no way to use instinct for some such things. Why have you said that?"

"I'm… willing to defend and present my ideas now," Katarina said confidently.

"If you really are," Master Vaal said, the Duros looking more amused than anything else, "Then you'll have two months of relaxation, then. In addition to the paper, at the end of the assignment you'll have to give a speech outlining and explaining your perspective. In the meantime you'll be debating it with other students, honing your arguments, and in other words possibly changing your mind as you see who and what other students are saying. We'll be taking it a step at a time, so don't worry too much." He nodded.

The Duros looked amused, and interested. "I look forward to hearing all of your opinions! In the meantime, today, we'll review the traditionally read literature. This is just a start to the topic, and there are other thinkers that it might do well to examine."

"Of course!" Cho said, with a nod.

Hannah looked pensive, tense and uncertain. She was biting her lip, her hair looking a bit disordered. She'd been off ever since she'd lost contact with her father. But there was something in her eyes, in her Force presence, to say that she'd be trying hard as well.

Nima smiled to herself.

She'd better try hard too.

*******

It was a disaster.

The Battle of Jabiim ended in defeat. The story was one of a miserable set of flooded plains and stormy paths, the clones, as excellent as they are outfoxed and with very poor maps of the local terrain, fighting viciously against revolutionary guerillas. They and the loyalists were driven back, and back.

Then Anakin Skywalker arrived. Master Kenobi turned out not to be dead, and yet had showed up halfway across the galaxy, first captive, and then escaped. So there it was, Anakin, Ahsoka, and the remaining Padawans. With General, and Master, Leska dead… Anakin was in charge. He arrived in time to relieve the remaining Padawans, and they went on an offensive that almost reclaimed the initiative.

But they lacked the men and supplies. After all of the war that had been happening, and losses on both sides, they lacked the forces to decisively win.

Anakin was injured, almost killed, and Ahsoka was singed by blaster bolts, according to the stories. But he'd had to command, and so he'd had himself dosed up with painkillers for the final stand.

In the end, there were transports to allow the forces to escape, but there was only enough for all of the clones or all of the Loyalists. Rather than taking some of both, he prioritized the clones. One or two loyalists, high level ones, were let on… but the vast majority, thousands upon thousands, plus their civilian families, were left behind when the Republic lifted off.

Left to die, as they likely would.

The planet was lost.

Skywalker had barely made it into orbit before he collapsed, and even with bacta it had been judged best that he be taken to the Temple for recovery, which might last months. Should, Ayguin said.

Ahsoka was back as well.

It was the kind of defeat that sent shockwaves through the Order. There were no good solutions, and yet to leave all of those Republic citizens behind…

Nima couldn't even know how it must feel. What he must have had to do to…

Strangely, bizarrely, the Holonet wasn't even talking about the defeat. They mentioned that it was a defeat and nothing else, despite it being exactly the kind of disaster that would have ordinarily gotten around-the-clock coverage.

Ahsoka. Anakin…

What had happened?

Choose the two places that Nima hangs out/spends the most time at in the next while!

[] The Archives. She'll always do a bit of research for the paper, but perhaps she should spend more time there. Certainly, Cho and Hannah are spending plenty of time there, and on top of that… there's information in the Archives. Jayne's been seen skulking around, looking up information about Coruscant. Playing tourist with images, with pictures. If they have all that, could Nima find out where her mother lives? Even if she's not… yet ready to do anything.
[] The Halls of Healing: Anakin is there, which means that Ayguin and Ahsoka are as well, and along with them, Scout is hanging around. On top of that, Bariss Offee has gotten back from another mission, a brutal one, on yet another planet filled with guerillas, and seems stressed and unhappy.
[] The Training Grounds: Elize made an offer, and Scout certainly is training as hard as she can to try to be ready for the tournament. As well, there are plenty of people who are there all the time: Aydan, Katarina. It's a popular place to be… and certainly, Nima could use more work on her new lightsaber style, even if she is slowly getting better.
[] The Clones Corner: As it's now called by Initiates, it's where Lark and the others are living, and they were very nice… and part of some sort of plan of Master Bell's. It's said that they're currently actually talking with the "Grey Paladins" and considering other matters, perhaps it's time to pay them a visit or three.
[] The Retirement Hall: It's been a while since she's stopped by for more than a story or two. Perhaps she should talk more fully with them. None of them have seen war… but they have all sorts of experience.

******

A/N: So, here we go.