Jedi Padawan Quest (Star Wars)
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Um, the vote's been closed for a while.
XXII: Healings
- Pronouns
- They/Them
XXII: Healings
The groans of the dead, dying, and wounded filled the air. The Temple was torn apart, the hall littered with a few fallen clones mixed in among the initiates, and even some of the Temple staff. She could hear fighting off in the distance, the sound of blasters and screams, but at least for the moment there was a chance.
She hefted her pack, and ran into the hall, others by her side. They didn't have long, they didn't have long at all to deal with the dozens there. They must have been clumsy, not to finish off their enemies. Clumsy, or perhaps in a hurry, Nima thought with a frown, moving as fast as she could.
Blasters. She could smell them, was used now to burning flesh, at least in the abstract. There'd been a lesson involving them, involving getting used to the smells of a battlefield. Sweat and blood, misery and doubt. She knelt in front of one of the initiates. He was only eight, and her name escaped him as she held onto her feelings. There was a burn on his neck, and a lightsaber burn on his hand. He'd probably hurt himself with the practice saber lying next to him.
Certainly, it'd be more likely that than actually hurting one of the enemies. And there was a burn across his torso. He was breathing, but such wounds would mean death.
She pulled out a device and punched in the code: low-priority. It was triage, and those who were almost certain to die could be left. Those who could be saved came first, as she moved onto the next. A bandage around their ankle showed that they'd twisted it and then crawled out of the way, playing dead. Relatively minor wounds, other than a blaster that caught them at the shoulder, and Nima quickly wrapped that and said, to the whimpering ten year old, crying almost too much, "Please, just stay here. We'll get to you soon."
Next was Lark, lying on the ground. "My back. Y'know, I could use some of the good stuff."
Nima gave a watery smile, holding even tighter onto her emotions. Now wasn't the time to feel what she really felt. No, now was the time for panic and fear. "I have drugs for it," Nima said, pulling out a needle. His armor was off, he'd been caught without it, but… somehow someone had done a lot of damage without any blaster bolts.
So. She quickly treated him, as he made jokes about how they put down lamed animals in battle. They were bad jokes, and he was clearly trying to tease her, trying to get her to react.
Then on to the next, and the next. She does what she can, even when what she can do is very little other than comfort. There's blood on her robes by the end of it, but not much, when she hears the buzzing and stands up.
Earlybird walked in, carrying the device that played the sounds of battle, and set it aside. Ayguin was next to him, frowning as she looked at the half-dozen trainees going through a first round of almost-realistic battle medicine. Blood was daubed here and there, marks were made to indicate injuries, and it was amazing what makeup could do.
Most of the 'wounded' sat up, looking around. "Please don't joke about… horses. Whatever those are," Nima said, glancing over at Lark when she said it.
"I wanted to see if you'd hold onto the right mood, even if I told you jokes," Lark said, as if this were some practical test.
"Very well. You all did… adequately. We shall evaluate your performance." The clone nodded this way and that, acknowledging people as Ayguin slipped near Nima.
The girl leaned in. "How was it?"
"Stressful," Nima admitted.
"It's hard. Letting go, doing triage. I can do it all day, though. But I can't do it in my personal life," Ayguin admitted. "I need Bariss."
Nima opened her mouth and closed it, then nodded.
"I need her and I need you," Ayguin said. "So, I'm sorry if I've been acting like I don't want to see you, but if you do have time, for the practice sessions. You could even work on the Mind-Healing, as long as it's just."
Just practice.
Nima nodded, a quiet smile on her face. Ayguin was one of her older friends, really. It came with being caring people, people who liked to help others. It was a thing to bond over, but Nima knew that an oldest friend didn't have to be a best friend.
But it could be. "I'd be happy to," Nima clarified. "Maybe this afternoon? Right before Lexia's class?"
"That would work," Ayguin said. "I'll think of a way to make myself upset before then." From her smile, it seemed as if there was nothing in the world that could make her upset right now. She all but glowed in the Force, and Nima hoped that it lasted.
Believed it would, too.
*******
The next month was a whirl, really, as the year finally ground its way towards the end. She'd been shooting up, faster than she expected, and hadn't really noticed it. Most of the clothes had a little bit of slack and give to them, being just slightly loose so that sentients of similar sizes but slightly different physiologies could wear the same sizes.
But she was growing taller, so fast that she couldn't anticipate it at all. And that wasn't the only part of her body that was changing, rather against her will. She had a whole new outfit to get, and she wondered how sentients outside even managed. If Holovids could be called accurate, some people had dozens, or even hundreds, of outfits. Nima had the same five outfits, and that suited her just fine.
Less to worry about. She knew it was silly to wish that she'd predicted it, but after all this time… well. She was aware of what her mother looked like--and what she looked like most of all these days was happy, happy with this relationship that she'd managed--but she had thought that perhaps she took after her father.
It was all frustrating enough, but she couldn't really do anything about it.
It was shortly after getting her new clothes that Elize pulled her aside into a side room. "Hey, I wanted to talk to you. Sorry if you have somewhere to be," Elize said. "I could let you go, of course. I just… want to talk."
She was talking now, rapidly and a little awkwardly. She was almost pacing, she was clearly so agitated.
"Of course," Nima said with a smile. Elize was intense in her own way, and the crush didn't stop her from being a friend. Not a best friend, and she could sometimes be a little bit annoying with the way she tried to butt her way into things, the way her crush--
And the hypocrisy of that thought stopped Nima in her tracks. As it did sometimes.
"Okay, so. It's not fair to be talking to you all the time and dragging you around without being honest about it. I'm, uh. I have a bit of a crush on you, and have for months," Elize said. She blurted it all out, and Nima resisted the urge to say 'I know.' Her emotions were swirling and tense.
"You do?"
"Well, I mean. You're cool and athletic, and you're very nice, and honestly while we're at it you're very, very pretty."
Nima blinked at that, her lekku going stiff. "Pretty?" She didn't know if she could agree with that assessment.
"This isn't going the way I thought it would," Elize said. "I don't want to date you. I mean, we're both Jedi and it'd be wrong. But that doesn't stop me from wanting to be around you all the time. And I know that's kind of a problem, but I can't help my crush, and I kinda want it to… wait! If I say I want it to go away, is that rude?"
"No. I have plenty of experience with one-sided crushes I'd rather go away."
"Oh," Elize said, and then with only the smallest twinge of jealousy--and that quickly pushed back--she asked, "Who's the boy?"
"Actually, it's Katarina."
"Oh." Elize frowned, considering it for a moment. "Well, she is pretty cool, and rather pretty, or… wait. Why do you have a crush on her? I've given the reason I do on you, and I hope you'll understand that, well. Most of them also would make you a good friend if you'd have me as one."
"Well, it's her kindness. She's kind and dedicated, focused on her duty, and yet she doesn't let it make her cold, whatever people who can't feel emotions think," Nima said. "It makes it so that when she smiles, it's precious."
"Well, now don't I feel shallow," Elize said, but she was clearly just joking, the smile on her face wide as she waved her hand. "So, you fall for people more than faces?"
"I… think so?" Nima didn't know, but it made sense considering how in-tune she was to emotions. There was no such thing as being able to look at someone just because they, she didn't know, had a nice smile, if that nice smile wasn't attached to a nice heart. She'd see the rotten heart and it'd pollute the smile, as it were.
"Huh, interesting. There's a name for that. Or, maybe it's a Jedi thing? All those stories about Jedi dealing with temptation, it's usually from someone pretty impressive," Elize said, thoughtfully.
There were stories like that, yes, and Nima thought about Satine, someone able to rule an entire system, willing and capable of working towards peace and prosperity. She was no doubt exceptional, and Obi-Wan no doubt had loved her.
"I've heard that," Nima said. "So… thanks for the compliment?"
Elize spluttered, her face red. "Oh. Yeah, it kinda is, I guess. You know, I was thinking. I haven't seen you running as often lately. You used to do it all the time with Scout, and now it's only every so often."
"I've been so busy," Nima said. "But I do need to do things with Scout anyways. Do you want to join in? Be a running buddy? We do need something to do together, besides lightsaber practice."
"You're getting a lot better, you know that right?" Elize said.
Nima smiled. "Yes, I am. I'm working on it."
"So, yes. Running could work," Elize said. "Your saber-style really would do well if you could eventually combine Jar'kai with Form IV. You're very good at moving unexpectedly."
"Thank you," Nima said.
And just like that they carved out a little more time, but because it was something she should be doing already, it was easy to drag Scout in, grumbling good naturedly about her mornings, and so they ran. Unlike with the offer involving Fy-Tor-Ana, this wasn't a demand for some bold new task to do, but something that she needed to do.
So it worked better, and Elize was at least able to calm down a little bit, and give Nima the room she needed to be her friend.
*******
She hadn't thought about the noise. In television shows, the shuttlebus that the Senate and the Order used was always quiet, and there were tense conversations, or people staring at the beautiful Coruscant vistas. Instead, with all of the people crammed in here, and the boxes of supplies, and the hum of the engines, she found that it was all she could do to get to a corner and try to meditate.
Katarina, at least, was by her side trying to do the same. No doubt it was very good practice for when she'd have to focus in the tumult. Whether of battle or of arguments. Nima told herself the same, even though a part of her wanted to talk to her friend. There were five initiates, a Padawan, a Knight and two Masters, one current and one retired, all in here with their food supplies. Or rather, with the food supplies that they hadn't shipped by other means.
She glanced over at the boxes of spices, or of perishable materials, or other things that couldn't be so easily just shipped off days and days before the big meal.
If she looked outside, she knew she'd see the shuttlebus climbing down below the highest level of traffic. They were going halfway to the Underworld. One of the levels in the three-thousands, where there was plenty of glitz and plenty more of politics, where it was nice to be, but it was also accessible for the people from the even lower levels that were being brought up. It was bright out, but she could picture the neon signs, assault and demanding attention, she could smell the air, the way it was just a little less fresh than she was used to. There was smoke, there was heat, and she just closed her eyes and considered it all. She could feel the life she was passing by, the endless push of their emotions. It was as if she were at the bottom of an ocean.
The emotions pressed down into her, and she tried to sort through them, only to find that it was truly impossible. She could get a general read on the worry, the stress, which defined life here at this time of the day. But individuals were almost difficult to distinguish. At least, when they were flying through the air.
They'd be a while yet before the actual dinner, let alone the dancing, and Nima didn't know what she'd be doing.
When the shuttle finally stopped, Katarina spoke to her, quietly. "You will be keeping the peace."
"What?" Nima asked.
"People may argue. It's been decided that you can help defuse arguments," Katarina said. "I know you can do it." Nima could feel her smile, the way she truly believed in Nima. "But… Jayne's going to be dressing up as--"
"A footloose young orphan," Jayne said. "It's a test."
"Yes." Katarina disapproved. Nima opened her eyes, to see Jayne smiling, all but bouncing up and down. "It is."
"I promise I won't spy on anyone. I'm also there to notice if anyone starts a fight, and try to see if I can help you deal with it," Jayne said. "I have some perfect clothes for it. I could show you the outfit, actually, if you wanted to see how playfully charming orphans from the mid-two-thousands on Coruscant dress."
Nima blinked. "Okay?"
*******
It was… an odd sort of clothing. It was not drab, at least, though the materials seemed incredibly cheap. But there was color to it, beneath the jacket Jayne also wore, the one covered in dozens of pockets, no doubt to store things in. Whether stolen things or otherwise. The colors did look good on him, bright greens and blues, trailing off at places into other colors, including pinks. He was energetic, at least. It made him look so different from what she was used to seeing on an Initiate that she could imagine him fooling everyone.
The community center itself was a huge building, with an attached ballroom, and while it was a little run down, there was something about it that inspired her. Some of it was its age. And its age in such a different way. It had seen murders, it had seen the birth of children--suddenly and with no time to go to a hospital--it had seen all of that, and it was colored by life and death alike. The walls of most rooms were a little plain, but Nima felt like this was a place she could work, and she spent an hour or three going over the food. She wasn't much of a cook, but she could obey instructions, especially involving cracking eggs, chopping vegetables, and otherwise serving as a pair of hands and little else.
But she could sense the emotions of the people in the kitchen, and so when someone was frustrated she made sure to come over to help. The hustle and bustle didn't feel so bad once it was for a purpose, rather than just the ceaseless movement of people for a dozen different reasons. Of course, both were valuable to be able to understand, but that was for another time.
By the time people started coming in, she was comfortable in the space. The people, though. Most of them were dressed in their best, the bus carrying them up demanding nothing more than being weapons free, but that being just the start for them. She guessed that for a lot of the people, this would be the first night of enjoyment that didn't involve seedy things they'd had in weeks.
It mattered, so of course people dressed up. But the dress code varied widely, since down here there were sentients of all sorts of species, though she wasn't sure what they'd make for the Wookiee. There'd be some food he could eat, but Nima hoped that he didn't trip. He was huge, even for a Wookiee, and if he fell on someone, especially one of the shorter species, it'd be rough.
Dinner, and then dancing. The dinner was at a series of a few dozen tables, people divided out as much by age as relations, with Nima pacing this way and that, looking over everyone. She found Jayne soon enough, talking to a few other kids his age, including a Twi'lek girl who was spending as much time playing with a cheap, decades old hologame under the table as she did eating.
It made Nima smile to see. In fact, there were a lot of reasons to smile, just as many as there were to frown. Some sentients looked thin, a bit wasted, and others smelled as if they'd quickly and cheaply washed themselves. A few had scars that could be from gang fights, or could be from worse.
There were so many people, and this close their emotions all bled into this strange mix that she slowly sorted out. Some people were afraid to be here, afraid of being caught, or of being judged, of something going wrong, or…
Fear was there, and anger was there, but so was happiness and joy. She took all of it in, and yet didn't allow it to define her. It was like a swirl of colors, and she couldn't help but be awed by it. The people here were so… loud. Emotionally, that is. They had no filters, they didn't worry or even try to slightly tamp down on their emotions in the Force, because of course to them there was no chance of being seen.
They didn't feel more, but they did feel clumsier. It was a strange distinction, and she was aware that it was to some extent what she was used to. Certainly, if dignity you were after, then Initiates were certainly no different than the people here. And that was a good thing: dignity was far less important than many thought, especially compared to humility and understanding.
She walked around them and listened, filing and storing away things. Not for gossip, or blackmail, or for a mission, but just so that she'd know. It was one of the new lessons in the class on galactic diplomacy. They'd started repeating themselves, or merely going over yet another human culture--and there were many--and Nima had learned as she always did, but a little distractedly. But they'd brought up the matter of memory, how knowing associations, names, and even likes and dislikes could help with diplomacy.
So as she listened to dozens of languages--many of which she knew, but not all of them--she noted down personal details. One person complained of the fish, another pointed out that considering the planet…
It was all an agreeable chatter, except when there were arguments over politics, or even the place of Jedi. There was a lot of food to go around, and at the very least that helped their moods. Nima kept up her orbit, glad that she'd been running lately, because as much as she was pacing and weaving, the experience had paid off.
When the food was done, they all retired to a huge… ballroom, sort of. But there were side-rooms with games for the children, and there was a table with desserts, and various non-intoxicating beverages. The floor was a deep, rich green, with vine patterns that snaked this way and that, flowers budding here and there in the hard, painted ground. And above, there were stars: the old Coruscanti starscape, before all the light made it incredibly difficult to see anything at all, anywhere.
Nima gaped at it all, the smell of the juice only adding to the overload of the moment. She wandered around, and tried to look for problems.
When one looks, one likely finds, sooner or later.
A man and a woman were arguing. The man was a Zelex, from the planet Zel 13. They were tall, with mottled and rough red skin, and short green claws, as well as a huge straight horn in their forehead that was, in fact, envenomed. But this man's horn had been carefully made harmless, and his claws were blunt. The planet had been taken over by Separatists in the first year of the war, and had been… lower priority to save, from what she'd heard. He was wearing black pants and a green tunic, both a little shabby.
The woman, slightly plump with dark hair, was human, and dressed in a very well-fit suit. It was a deep, bloody red, with orange stripes on the arms. Her shoes too looked nice, and the whole outfit was in fact--and curse her for knowing this--exactly in-fashion among what people down here would have called 'the upper-middies.'
He was pointing his fingers at her, accusingly, as she made her way over. She had had only a single class on the protocol, and that when it had been… topical. Just before the fall. So there was every chance in the world that she would mess something up.
But she went to them anyways, able to hear their voices and feel their emotions when she was closer. The man was angry, frustrated and accusatory, while the woman was evasive, effusive, hiding her emotions very well… compared to most of them, at least.
"Excuse me," Nima said.
The alien blinked, his golden eyes staring down at her. Dislike sprung from him, and after a moment she could untangle it as dislike for Jedi in general. It felt too impersonal to be anything else. "You are excused," he rumbled.
"It's simply that I saw you two were in an argument, and I was hoping I could help to settle it," she said, bowing. But she kept her head up, even craning it, so that if she had a horn, it would have been pointed right at his head, as was proper. "I am Nima Tyruti, Jedi Initiate, and you are, honored Gkr…"
Gkr was an honorific, honored merely pleasantry.
"Dutlov," he said. He was startled by her knowledge, and a little suspicious as well. No doubt if he had the right opportunity, he'd try to start an argument about how his planet, mostly loyal to the Republic, was still under Confederate bootheels, and probably would be for months more before it was finally targeted.
"And I am Lauren Leclarc," she said, in an accent remarkably similar to a Rylothi accent. Her voice was smooth, too.
"So what seems to be the argument?"
"Why is she coming here, dressed like this. This is for people who work for a living," Dutlov said. "Not swan around."
"Are you accusing me of being someone slumming?" Lauren asked, dangerously.
She could be. "No, simply of--"
"Simply of?" Nima asked. "Please, what is your accusation? Plain-speaking makes plain truth manifest."
Dutlov blinked, surprised at her quotation. Her no doubt familiar quotation. "She isn't rich, she's a criminal. A criminal who got in here and wears that because of ill-gotten gains."
"I am not," Lauren said. "I saved up for this with honest labor, because I love wearing a good suit, now and then. And maybe I wanted to show off." The concession was off-hand. "But I've been wearing cast-offs for months to afford this."
Nima did not, in the least, understand this mindset, but she nodded as if it was reasonable. "Do you have any information that links her to criminal activity? And even so, she's here unarmed, to eat a dinner. This is open to everyone from your level and nearby ones, so long as they don't cause trouble. I know that can be stressful, but this is a party, isn't it?" Nima let out a breath, and made her eyes as wide as she could make them.
He'd tell off a Jedi… but if she came off as a wise child, perhaps he wouldn't be so quick to anger. His claws tapped against his side, and she could feel his resolve weakening.
"Yes. It is," Dutlov conceded. "And it is said that to abstain from folly is the first step towards wisdom."
"And that rumors are like the bekla, a single touch can poison both friend and foe," Nima said, softly as she tapped her forehead, where a horn would be but wasn't. "Thank you for listening," and she let her voice go slightly pitched. Why not sound a little younger? Jedi were to have no dignity that they could not sacrifice. "I-I'd never think of making you give up grudges outside of here."
"I can see that," Dutlov said. "I must reconsider… my words. Here, at least." He bowed back to her, finally, very late, and strode away as if this had never happened.
Lauren, though, felt relieved… as if she'd dodged a blaster bolt. Oh.
"You seem worried," Nima said, dropping the slightly raised pitch and the wide eyes. She wasn't good at lying… and she hadn't lied. But it was a little more than she was used to doing.
"I'm… just fine," Lauren said.
Nima considered a dozen approaches, before saying with a soft, teasing smile. "I'm a Jedi."
"Are you reading my mind?" Lauren asked.
"We can't, well, I can't and I'm not," Nima said. "But… it felt as if you were reacting pretty strongly to the man's accusations."
For a moment she thought she'd said too much, but Lauren frowned and led her over to a corner, before standing near the wall, but not leaning against it. Perhaps because of her suit. Then, after another glance around to see if there was anyone listening, she whispered, "I've… done hacking for criminal elements in the past. That's probably where he's heard of Leclarc. Me, that is. I haven't been doing it in months, and I'm even thinking of working as some sort of cheap counter-hacker?" Lauren considered her words carefully. "And yet, if you try to make me repeat any of this, I'll say--"
"That the criminal elements were just… doing something legal?" Nima guessed.
"Yes." Lauren relaxed. "You know, you're charming for a Jedi. Or at least, the ones on the shows are usually quiet and intense. But yes, please don't start anything. I just thought you'd want to know."
"I do. And even if you did something in the past, I wouldn't tell someone else about this. I don't have details, and it's not murder," Nima admitted. She meant it, even. It wasn't her job to catch criminals.
"Well, thanks for that. Here, have this." She pulled out a white card.
'LC Leclarc--white helmet hacker' it read, followed by a holonet number. "It's old-fashioned, but I found this old machine that just pops them out, and so I've been handing them around. I doubt you'll ever have a reason to call, but if you want to."
Nima nodded. She'd keep it. You never knew, after all. "Thank you, Miss Leclarc. Oh, and the suit looks nice," Nima said truthfully. Colorful, and not that big of a deal to her.
But definitely nice.
*****
She broke up a few more arguments, and went around easing the minds of a few people who were miserable, using words alone. Mind-Healing on anyone here would be unethical and foolish. Eventually people started approaching Nima, as if they were aware of what she was doing.
In the play area with the games, there were a few teenagers who came up to her apparently just to talk, gawking at her for whatever reason, including a Twi'lek teenage boy that she realized only after a minute of awkward conversation was flirting with her or… something. Which meant she had to try to extract herself, which was especially difficult.
Jayne was in the background, sending emotions of chuckling towards her as the boy complimented her lekku, the Jedi, and other things.
Nima sent back an emotion approximately saying Laugh it up, Jayne.
He complied.
Towards the end of the night, bizarrely, she felt Wessen, who wasn't supposed to be there. And then saw her, dancing with Jayne in the mass of people who were enjoying themselves more than they had in a while. The two of them fit together as they moved, as they danced this way and that, hand in hand. And when Jayne saw Nima staring, he winked. Then turned back to look at Wessen with something like fondness.
The next morning, tired but still almost triumphant at the good that they'd done and the enjoyment they'd brought others, Nima began writing. She had ideas. A lot of ideas. Enough that she almost forgot what she'd seen, though she decided she'd ask when she felt willing to hear whatever the answer was.
Because what she'd felt was something like that one crush… but doubled.
*******
She wrote to distract herself, as more and more laws came down, so many that she didn't even want to think about it. The Republic was doing worse and worse, the war was turning on battles everywhere. Operation: Durge's Lance was tearing apart the hard-won advantage, and Confederate naval forces were waging a daring commerce raiding war. It was, in other words, a complete mess and which even if she'd spent all her time keeping up, she wouldn't be able to understand everything that was going wrong.
Other than that almost everything was going wrong. The crack was growing not just day by day, but hour by hour, or so it felt. She didn't know what to say to Jayne and Wessen, and so the first month of the new year came and passed as she studied and worked so hard that she barely dreamed of her mother.
But she did. Her mother's new boyfriend was… well, he was somewhat handsome, and seemed pleasant enough, and that was more than enough for Nima. But she wondered at the peeks she was getting. They felt changed, a little more vague, more snapshots than videos. It was hard to define, but she wondered if it had to do with her mind-senses.
And at the end of the second month of the year, she finally got her Mind-Healing down. At least once. It wasn't quite there, in that she felt a twinge of the emotion she was working with lance out at her, a little bit of the stress and exhaustion that Ayguin found it easiest to… have to deal with.
It wasn't a treat, having to endure bad moods and other problems all in the hopes that eventually she'd be able to actually heal it. But the time that she actually managed it, she leapt up, the stress drifting away, and if she was anyone less dignified she might have jumped up and down shouting.
But as she was dignified, she didn't do that, and even if she did, the only person who didn't see it was Ayguin, who would swear that it hadn't happened. Because, of course, it hadn't.
Nima was understandably pleased that she'd accomplished something she'd been working on for the better part of a year. That was all.
So she didn't race downstairs to go to talk to her friends after showing it off--no, after humbly demonstrating her new capacity--to Lexia. She certainly didn't burst into the room where Wessen and Jayne would be, bouncing on the balls of her feet and just barely able to restrain her own galloping, wild emotions.
She'd never worked on anything that long or that hard, any one individual thing, in her life. No language, no lightsaber technique… perhaps Jar'kai, but that was a little different. This was something that'd shape the rest of her life. She remembered what Lexia had said.
It wasn't false pride to think that she was probably an adequate Padawan by this point. Flawed, with plenty to improve, and yet more that'd need to be polished, but knowing Mind-Healing like that felt like proof that she'd been doing all of this for a reason.
She stopped in place as soon as she saw Wessen. Leaning against a wall. She hadn't sensed the girl, and even now she couldn't sense even a hint of emotion. But her head was bent, and her hand was shaking.
"Wessen! What happened?" Nima asked, her good mood slipping away. She let it, because she needed to do this. She'd allowed herself to be enthusiastic, but she needed to be steadier for her friend. Force knows what Katarina would have thought, to see her--or not see her, as it were--shout and jump up and down in triumph.
"Jayne," Wessen said. "I, I wonder if he was trying to show off to me. He got burnt. I'm not sure how bad."
"Burnt?"
"We were trying to escape t-this r-room. And w-w-w-we had g-guards. The clones. And it wasn't o-one room. It was several."
"And you had to get out?"
"Y-y-yes. He found an incinerator, and m-managed to punch a hole in it. T-t-they didn't expect it. The I-incinerator was f-f-for disposing of m-messages. And…"
"And you were with him and he got… burnt?"
"Yes. He d-did it, and t-then we could escape, but I haven't seen him s-s-s--"
She trailed off. Her shaking was getting worse, and Nima darted forward to hug Wessen. She hadn't had a good hug in a while, and she couldn't feel Wessen but she knew this would help a little. "He'll be okay. You shouldn't worry."
"I… guess." Wessen frowned, her tentacles slipping against Nima's face in what felt like an extension of the hug. "H-he. He's so smart and brave, and he cares so m-m-much about the o-outside world. N-not like some people, who aren't c-c-curious at all."
"Like?" Nima asked softly.
"Aydan. H-he tried to apologize. T-the other day."
"And you said…?"
"T-that I didn't forgive him," Wessen said, her voice a hiss.
"You can't demand forgiveness, and isn't that what it felt like?" Nima asked. She hadn't talked to Hannah yet, not so much because she was unwilling to forgive but that she was worried that Hannah would demand to be forgiven and ruin the truce. It was like a fire, there was only so close you could get before you started to worry about getting burnt.
"Y-you're right. How did you…"
"I try," Nima said, giving her goofiest grin. "I'm sure that he'll be okay, and if he did what it takes to win…"
"H-he did."
"A friend of mine, Scout, knows all about that kind of thing. It's the sort of trick she'd do," Nima said. Though Nima was absolutely certain that Scout wasn't involved in the sorts of lessons Jayne was. Perhaps she should be, and it was always possible that she could find a Master who was interested in someone to learn from scratch. Nima wasn't sure. Scout was a little downcast lately, her emotions steady… but the wrong sort of steady.
"Y-yes," Wessen said. "I think he… oh!" The oh is a whisper. "He's coming?"
Nima could feel him after a minute of staring at the door. Wessen had felt him earlier than she had, which probably said something both about his stealth, Nima's self-centered mood, and Wessen's closeness to him.
He strode him, his arms still a bit burnt, but wrapped up, and with bandages around his legs, grinning so wide he looked like Elize for a moment. "Hello, Wessen, hello Nim--"
He rocked back on his feet as Wessen rose, pushing out almost playfully with the Force. Almost, because there was a little frustration there. "S-s-sorry. B-but you c-c-can't do that. I was s-so-so. Worried. I was worried, okay?"
Her tentacles were fidgeting, and it looked like she was holding herself back from what would be a very painful hug, for him at least.
"I know. But I got to talking to a Knight, Lorccan Roel. He said he wanted me to be his Padawan. But I said I'd think about it, but that he should leave me to get up, because I needed to be sure."
Wessen stared.
Nima tried to hide her shock. You didn't just tell someone you want time… and then make them leave.
"Y-you remembered?"
"Of course I'd keep my promises to you, Wessen," Jayne said, his eyes soft with emotion. "I won't accept if you don't want it. I don't want to scare you, or hurt you, by going off far away and dy… dying."
"Tell me a-about him?" Wessen asked, sounding like an officer asking for a report.
"He wants to stay on Coruscant. Spying on people, dealing with the criminal underworld. I'd still live in the Temple, at least until I'm sixteen or the war ends," Jayne said. "So I'd be able to see you plenty, and I'd get to see Coruscant for real this time."
Wessen nodded, looking thoughtful as she approached. "Hmm."
"So, Wessen. Will you permit me?" It sounded so formal, but there was something about all of this that felt as if it was some ritual, some ceremony. As if they all knew their parts. He meant it, that was obvious. He'd turn down what seemed to be his dream Master if she didn't want him to. It answered some things but left others quite uncertain and confused.
She stepped forward. "I w-will."
"Thank you," Jayne said.
"If," Wessen said, and sounded almost smug.
"If?"
"Y-you go to the H-halls of H-healing with me. Right now. Y-y-you should lie down, n-not be here," Wessen said.
"I came all this way because you were here," Jayne said, almost petulantly.
"And I l-l-like you for it," Wessen said, her face darkening slightly. "But you w-will d-do as I say."
"Yes ma'am," Jayne said, with a half-salute. "I do as you say in all things."
"G-good," Wessen said, and Nima's heart sort of soared to see how much her friend had, well. Uncoiled. "You s-should. D-don't do something that f-f-foolish again."
"I don't know if I can…"
Wessen shrugged and stepped towards him. "T-think about it. L-learn. If y-y-you'd taken time I c-could have given you layers…"
"Time we didn't have," Jayne said, archly, but with a smile teasing his lips.
"M-maybe," Wessen admitted. As if this was some long-running argument that wouldn't ever end.
"Why were you at the party, Wessen?" Nima asked, while she still had time.
"T-there was an a-assignment. To i-infiltrate a party. A-a-as a guest. O-once there I had to d-d-dance. And Jayne was less likely to notice any flaws I made. So. I danced with him."
It felt like something between the truth and a lie, but Nima nodded.
"Oh! There's one more thing," Jayne said, as Wessen began to carefully lead him out. "I'm sorry we're talking to you so quickly and leaving. I didn't intend--"
"It's fine. What is it?" Nima asked, curiously.
"How has the meditation been going? With the crack?" Jayne asked. "It feels like…"
"It's been going alright. I feel like I'm closer to understanding it," Nima said. "It's at least two-thousand feet down, and possibly more. And there's a lot to take in." That was all true, but she wasn't revealing a lot of what she'd seen. She felt as if she understood the emotions of the two… beings. They didn't seem as if they were threats, at least not to her, but if they heard that there were… people down there. Then what would they say? What if it was a Sith trap, or--
Nima didn't know what the Sith felt like, but if that was it, then…
It couldn't be them. She got too good of a look, and there was too much about the two beings that didn't fit that.
"So, you're close to a breakthrough?"
"Maybe a few more weeks," Nima said. She meant it, too. It felt sometimes as if the being was about to speak: the nicer of the two. The sterner still seemed to be keeping its distance. She didn't know what she'd do once they were communicating by mind. But she knew it was coming. She could feel it. "I promise, I'll figure it out."
"You're closer than any of us," Jayne said with a polite nod.
She watched them go, Wessen leading him by her finger tips, and opened her mouth to try to warn them. She couldn't feel their emotions all that well, but after that display, what was going on was quite obvious. Quite obvious and rather dangerous, in its own way. But she wasn't going to tell anyone, and she wasn't going to try to stop… this. They were young, and--
And she didn't want Wessen to stop being so happy and confident, so different from the girl she'd met… it was almost years, now. Almost two years.
She knelt by the cracks. Cracks, plural now. It was spread so far, and she couldn't even see where the stone fully closed in. It wasn't all the way there yet, and so she closed her eyes and let herself be as open as she could be. An hour later, she felt it.
Felt it, and then heard it. Heard it, and didn't understand it at all. It was a man's voice, possibly human, with an accent that vaguely reminded her of… she wasn't sure. It'd been too long since she'd studied languages, and she tried to work through it. Work through it, because she couldn't understand the words.
They shared some of the same linguistic roots as Basic, but it wasn't High-Mid basic, which was the farthest back she'd really read about language changes. High-Mid Basic was nine-thousand years old, which meant that this was older than that. Perhaps one of the languages that spiralled off from Basic over the years? But the vowels, especially…
The vowels were elongated, the phrases choppy, in a way that reminded her of Transitional Mid-Basic, almost. But not quite, and she had no idea what that meant. She listened to the babble, and then reached the mind and managed to say--not just emotions, but words--'I don't understand.'
The babbling stopped, and Nima had an impression that neither did he.
She decided to try something. She focused as much as she could on a picture of a head, the outline of one, with its mouth open, and symbols coming from it, and then made a red slash appear through it. I can't understand you.
She felt understanding, and then a vision popped in her head. The crack was open, all the way, and Nima was standing at the edge with rope, enough of it to get her down, as well as a bag of field rations, and… she wasn't sure what it was. It was bigger and clunkier than she was used to, but she recognized it. Some sort of electronics. And from it were coming those… symbols.
A translation device of some sort. The Jedi had those, they analyzed a language and helped one learn it. That, combined with the Force sense that the Jedi had, was why Nima was able to learn so many languages. It was like having a teacher right there.
Then this vision-Nima rappelled down into the darkness.
He wanted her to come down. No… wait. He was saying he'd open up the way if she came.
Nima tried to figure out how to say 'when' and settled on throwing him back a picture of the sun, and it moving. Hopefully he understood that.
She was sent back a picture of the moon, hanging in the center of the sky. Midnight, she guessed.
She pictured her friends, Jayne and Wessen.
He sent back a picture of the crack, as it was now, instead of entirely open. Then there was a red slash through it.
Bring nobody else, that much was clear.
Then, her head, pictured by him, with the lekku circled.
She sent him back a picture of herself, standing in her initiates clothes. 'I am Nima.' An arrow pointed to her heart. 'I am a Twi'lek.' An arrow to her face. 'These are Lekku' an arrow to her twin lekku.
Then she heard his voice. First, a phrase that was something like 'I am', if she had to guess. And then.
Seluku.
What to do?
[] This is a chance, an opportunity. Yes, it's dangerous, going down to some strange hidden… thing on the word of a guy she'd never seen. But she could feel him. He felt sad, he felt merciful, he felt playful. And this was a chance, an opportunity she wouldn't have for a long time, if ever.
[] No. Searching one's feelings is important, but so is hierarchy. She should tell the Jedi Council, and not risk herself on something that could be a trap. After all, why bring food unless she's meant to be there longer than a few hours. Unless the person was hungry, but then… what? Too many dangers for an initiate, that's what this is.
******
A/N: Thanks to Nemo. Also, updating the front page character sheet in two ways. Check it out.
The groans of the dead, dying, and wounded filled the air. The Temple was torn apart, the hall littered with a few fallen clones mixed in among the initiates, and even some of the Temple staff. She could hear fighting off in the distance, the sound of blasters and screams, but at least for the moment there was a chance.
She hefted her pack, and ran into the hall, others by her side. They didn't have long, they didn't have long at all to deal with the dozens there. They must have been clumsy, not to finish off their enemies. Clumsy, or perhaps in a hurry, Nima thought with a frown, moving as fast as she could.
Blasters. She could smell them, was used now to burning flesh, at least in the abstract. There'd been a lesson involving them, involving getting used to the smells of a battlefield. Sweat and blood, misery and doubt. She knelt in front of one of the initiates. He was only eight, and her name escaped him as she held onto her feelings. There was a burn on his neck, and a lightsaber burn on his hand. He'd probably hurt himself with the practice saber lying next to him.
Certainly, it'd be more likely that than actually hurting one of the enemies. And there was a burn across his torso. He was breathing, but such wounds would mean death.
She pulled out a device and punched in the code: low-priority. It was triage, and those who were almost certain to die could be left. Those who could be saved came first, as she moved onto the next. A bandage around their ankle showed that they'd twisted it and then crawled out of the way, playing dead. Relatively minor wounds, other than a blaster that caught them at the shoulder, and Nima quickly wrapped that and said, to the whimpering ten year old, crying almost too much, "Please, just stay here. We'll get to you soon."
Next was Lark, lying on the ground. "My back. Y'know, I could use some of the good stuff."
Nima gave a watery smile, holding even tighter onto her emotions. Now wasn't the time to feel what she really felt. No, now was the time for panic and fear. "I have drugs for it," Nima said, pulling out a needle. His armor was off, he'd been caught without it, but… somehow someone had done a lot of damage without any blaster bolts.
So. She quickly treated him, as he made jokes about how they put down lamed animals in battle. They were bad jokes, and he was clearly trying to tease her, trying to get her to react.
Then on to the next, and the next. She does what she can, even when what she can do is very little other than comfort. There's blood on her robes by the end of it, but not much, when she hears the buzzing and stands up.
Earlybird walked in, carrying the device that played the sounds of battle, and set it aside. Ayguin was next to him, frowning as she looked at the half-dozen trainees going through a first round of almost-realistic battle medicine. Blood was daubed here and there, marks were made to indicate injuries, and it was amazing what makeup could do.
Most of the 'wounded' sat up, looking around. "Please don't joke about… horses. Whatever those are," Nima said, glancing over at Lark when she said it.
"I wanted to see if you'd hold onto the right mood, even if I told you jokes," Lark said, as if this were some practical test.
"Very well. You all did… adequately. We shall evaluate your performance." The clone nodded this way and that, acknowledging people as Ayguin slipped near Nima.
The girl leaned in. "How was it?"
"Stressful," Nima admitted.
"It's hard. Letting go, doing triage. I can do it all day, though. But I can't do it in my personal life," Ayguin admitted. "I need Bariss."
Nima opened her mouth and closed it, then nodded.
"I need her and I need you," Ayguin said. "So, I'm sorry if I've been acting like I don't want to see you, but if you do have time, for the practice sessions. You could even work on the Mind-Healing, as long as it's just."
Just practice.
Nima nodded, a quiet smile on her face. Ayguin was one of her older friends, really. It came with being caring people, people who liked to help others. It was a thing to bond over, but Nima knew that an oldest friend didn't have to be a best friend.
But it could be. "I'd be happy to," Nima clarified. "Maybe this afternoon? Right before Lexia's class?"
"That would work," Ayguin said. "I'll think of a way to make myself upset before then." From her smile, it seemed as if there was nothing in the world that could make her upset right now. She all but glowed in the Force, and Nima hoped that it lasted.
Believed it would, too.
*******
The next month was a whirl, really, as the year finally ground its way towards the end. She'd been shooting up, faster than she expected, and hadn't really noticed it. Most of the clothes had a little bit of slack and give to them, being just slightly loose so that sentients of similar sizes but slightly different physiologies could wear the same sizes.
But she was growing taller, so fast that she couldn't anticipate it at all. And that wasn't the only part of her body that was changing, rather against her will. She had a whole new outfit to get, and she wondered how sentients outside even managed. If Holovids could be called accurate, some people had dozens, or even hundreds, of outfits. Nima had the same five outfits, and that suited her just fine.
Less to worry about. She knew it was silly to wish that she'd predicted it, but after all this time… well. She was aware of what her mother looked like--and what she looked like most of all these days was happy, happy with this relationship that she'd managed--but she had thought that perhaps she took after her father.
It was all frustrating enough, but she couldn't really do anything about it.
It was shortly after getting her new clothes that Elize pulled her aside into a side room. "Hey, I wanted to talk to you. Sorry if you have somewhere to be," Elize said. "I could let you go, of course. I just… want to talk."
She was talking now, rapidly and a little awkwardly. She was almost pacing, she was clearly so agitated.
"Of course," Nima said with a smile. Elize was intense in her own way, and the crush didn't stop her from being a friend. Not a best friend, and she could sometimes be a little bit annoying with the way she tried to butt her way into things, the way her crush--
And the hypocrisy of that thought stopped Nima in her tracks. As it did sometimes.
"Okay, so. It's not fair to be talking to you all the time and dragging you around without being honest about it. I'm, uh. I have a bit of a crush on you, and have for months," Elize said. She blurted it all out, and Nima resisted the urge to say 'I know.' Her emotions were swirling and tense.
"You do?"
"Well, I mean. You're cool and athletic, and you're very nice, and honestly while we're at it you're very, very pretty."
Nima blinked at that, her lekku going stiff. "Pretty?" She didn't know if she could agree with that assessment.
"This isn't going the way I thought it would," Elize said. "I don't want to date you. I mean, we're both Jedi and it'd be wrong. But that doesn't stop me from wanting to be around you all the time. And I know that's kind of a problem, but I can't help my crush, and I kinda want it to… wait! If I say I want it to go away, is that rude?"
"No. I have plenty of experience with one-sided crushes I'd rather go away."
"Oh," Elize said, and then with only the smallest twinge of jealousy--and that quickly pushed back--she asked, "Who's the boy?"
"Actually, it's Katarina."
"Oh." Elize frowned, considering it for a moment. "Well, she is pretty cool, and rather pretty, or… wait. Why do you have a crush on her? I've given the reason I do on you, and I hope you'll understand that, well. Most of them also would make you a good friend if you'd have me as one."
"Well, it's her kindness. She's kind and dedicated, focused on her duty, and yet she doesn't let it make her cold, whatever people who can't feel emotions think," Nima said. "It makes it so that when she smiles, it's precious."
"Well, now don't I feel shallow," Elize said, but she was clearly just joking, the smile on her face wide as she waved her hand. "So, you fall for people more than faces?"
"I… think so?" Nima didn't know, but it made sense considering how in-tune she was to emotions. There was no such thing as being able to look at someone just because they, she didn't know, had a nice smile, if that nice smile wasn't attached to a nice heart. She'd see the rotten heart and it'd pollute the smile, as it were.
"Huh, interesting. There's a name for that. Or, maybe it's a Jedi thing? All those stories about Jedi dealing with temptation, it's usually from someone pretty impressive," Elize said, thoughtfully.
There were stories like that, yes, and Nima thought about Satine, someone able to rule an entire system, willing and capable of working towards peace and prosperity. She was no doubt exceptional, and Obi-Wan no doubt had loved her.
"I've heard that," Nima said. "So… thanks for the compliment?"
Elize spluttered, her face red. "Oh. Yeah, it kinda is, I guess. You know, I was thinking. I haven't seen you running as often lately. You used to do it all the time with Scout, and now it's only every so often."
"I've been so busy," Nima said. "But I do need to do things with Scout anyways. Do you want to join in? Be a running buddy? We do need something to do together, besides lightsaber practice."
"You're getting a lot better, you know that right?" Elize said.
Nima smiled. "Yes, I am. I'm working on it."
"So, yes. Running could work," Elize said. "Your saber-style really would do well if you could eventually combine Jar'kai with Form IV. You're very good at moving unexpectedly."
"Thank you," Nima said.
And just like that they carved out a little more time, but because it was something she should be doing already, it was easy to drag Scout in, grumbling good naturedly about her mornings, and so they ran. Unlike with the offer involving Fy-Tor-Ana, this wasn't a demand for some bold new task to do, but something that she needed to do.
So it worked better, and Elize was at least able to calm down a little bit, and give Nima the room she needed to be her friend.
*******
She hadn't thought about the noise. In television shows, the shuttlebus that the Senate and the Order used was always quiet, and there were tense conversations, or people staring at the beautiful Coruscant vistas. Instead, with all of the people crammed in here, and the boxes of supplies, and the hum of the engines, she found that it was all she could do to get to a corner and try to meditate.
Katarina, at least, was by her side trying to do the same. No doubt it was very good practice for when she'd have to focus in the tumult. Whether of battle or of arguments. Nima told herself the same, even though a part of her wanted to talk to her friend. There were five initiates, a Padawan, a Knight and two Masters, one current and one retired, all in here with their food supplies. Or rather, with the food supplies that they hadn't shipped by other means.
She glanced over at the boxes of spices, or of perishable materials, or other things that couldn't be so easily just shipped off days and days before the big meal.
If she looked outside, she knew she'd see the shuttlebus climbing down below the highest level of traffic. They were going halfway to the Underworld. One of the levels in the three-thousands, where there was plenty of glitz and plenty more of politics, where it was nice to be, but it was also accessible for the people from the even lower levels that were being brought up. It was bright out, but she could picture the neon signs, assault and demanding attention, she could smell the air, the way it was just a little less fresh than she was used to. There was smoke, there was heat, and she just closed her eyes and considered it all. She could feel the life she was passing by, the endless push of their emotions. It was as if she were at the bottom of an ocean.
The emotions pressed down into her, and she tried to sort through them, only to find that it was truly impossible. She could get a general read on the worry, the stress, which defined life here at this time of the day. But individuals were almost difficult to distinguish. At least, when they were flying through the air.
They'd be a while yet before the actual dinner, let alone the dancing, and Nima didn't know what she'd be doing.
When the shuttle finally stopped, Katarina spoke to her, quietly. "You will be keeping the peace."
"What?" Nima asked.
"People may argue. It's been decided that you can help defuse arguments," Katarina said. "I know you can do it." Nima could feel her smile, the way she truly believed in Nima. "But… Jayne's going to be dressing up as--"
"A footloose young orphan," Jayne said. "It's a test."
"Yes." Katarina disapproved. Nima opened her eyes, to see Jayne smiling, all but bouncing up and down. "It is."
"I promise I won't spy on anyone. I'm also there to notice if anyone starts a fight, and try to see if I can help you deal with it," Jayne said. "I have some perfect clothes for it. I could show you the outfit, actually, if you wanted to see how playfully charming orphans from the mid-two-thousands on Coruscant dress."
Nima blinked. "Okay?"
*******
It was… an odd sort of clothing. It was not drab, at least, though the materials seemed incredibly cheap. But there was color to it, beneath the jacket Jayne also wore, the one covered in dozens of pockets, no doubt to store things in. Whether stolen things or otherwise. The colors did look good on him, bright greens and blues, trailing off at places into other colors, including pinks. He was energetic, at least. It made him look so different from what she was used to seeing on an Initiate that she could imagine him fooling everyone.
The community center itself was a huge building, with an attached ballroom, and while it was a little run down, there was something about it that inspired her. Some of it was its age. And its age in such a different way. It had seen murders, it had seen the birth of children--suddenly and with no time to go to a hospital--it had seen all of that, and it was colored by life and death alike. The walls of most rooms were a little plain, but Nima felt like this was a place she could work, and she spent an hour or three going over the food. She wasn't much of a cook, but she could obey instructions, especially involving cracking eggs, chopping vegetables, and otherwise serving as a pair of hands and little else.
But she could sense the emotions of the people in the kitchen, and so when someone was frustrated she made sure to come over to help. The hustle and bustle didn't feel so bad once it was for a purpose, rather than just the ceaseless movement of people for a dozen different reasons. Of course, both were valuable to be able to understand, but that was for another time.
By the time people started coming in, she was comfortable in the space. The people, though. Most of them were dressed in their best, the bus carrying them up demanding nothing more than being weapons free, but that being just the start for them. She guessed that for a lot of the people, this would be the first night of enjoyment that didn't involve seedy things they'd had in weeks.
It mattered, so of course people dressed up. But the dress code varied widely, since down here there were sentients of all sorts of species, though she wasn't sure what they'd make for the Wookiee. There'd be some food he could eat, but Nima hoped that he didn't trip. He was huge, even for a Wookiee, and if he fell on someone, especially one of the shorter species, it'd be rough.
Dinner, and then dancing. The dinner was at a series of a few dozen tables, people divided out as much by age as relations, with Nima pacing this way and that, looking over everyone. She found Jayne soon enough, talking to a few other kids his age, including a Twi'lek girl who was spending as much time playing with a cheap, decades old hologame under the table as she did eating.
It made Nima smile to see. In fact, there were a lot of reasons to smile, just as many as there were to frown. Some sentients looked thin, a bit wasted, and others smelled as if they'd quickly and cheaply washed themselves. A few had scars that could be from gang fights, or could be from worse.
There were so many people, and this close their emotions all bled into this strange mix that she slowly sorted out. Some people were afraid to be here, afraid of being caught, or of being judged, of something going wrong, or…
Fear was there, and anger was there, but so was happiness and joy. She took all of it in, and yet didn't allow it to define her. It was like a swirl of colors, and she couldn't help but be awed by it. The people here were so… loud. Emotionally, that is. They had no filters, they didn't worry or even try to slightly tamp down on their emotions in the Force, because of course to them there was no chance of being seen.
They didn't feel more, but they did feel clumsier. It was a strange distinction, and she was aware that it was to some extent what she was used to. Certainly, if dignity you were after, then Initiates were certainly no different than the people here. And that was a good thing: dignity was far less important than many thought, especially compared to humility and understanding.
She walked around them and listened, filing and storing away things. Not for gossip, or blackmail, or for a mission, but just so that she'd know. It was one of the new lessons in the class on galactic diplomacy. They'd started repeating themselves, or merely going over yet another human culture--and there were many--and Nima had learned as she always did, but a little distractedly. But they'd brought up the matter of memory, how knowing associations, names, and even likes and dislikes could help with diplomacy.
So as she listened to dozens of languages--many of which she knew, but not all of them--she noted down personal details. One person complained of the fish, another pointed out that considering the planet…
It was all an agreeable chatter, except when there were arguments over politics, or even the place of Jedi. There was a lot of food to go around, and at the very least that helped their moods. Nima kept up her orbit, glad that she'd been running lately, because as much as she was pacing and weaving, the experience had paid off.
When the food was done, they all retired to a huge… ballroom, sort of. But there were side-rooms with games for the children, and there was a table with desserts, and various non-intoxicating beverages. The floor was a deep, rich green, with vine patterns that snaked this way and that, flowers budding here and there in the hard, painted ground. And above, there were stars: the old Coruscanti starscape, before all the light made it incredibly difficult to see anything at all, anywhere.
Nima gaped at it all, the smell of the juice only adding to the overload of the moment. She wandered around, and tried to look for problems.
When one looks, one likely finds, sooner or later.
A man and a woman were arguing. The man was a Zelex, from the planet Zel 13. They were tall, with mottled and rough red skin, and short green claws, as well as a huge straight horn in their forehead that was, in fact, envenomed. But this man's horn had been carefully made harmless, and his claws were blunt. The planet had been taken over by Separatists in the first year of the war, and had been… lower priority to save, from what she'd heard. He was wearing black pants and a green tunic, both a little shabby.
The woman, slightly plump with dark hair, was human, and dressed in a very well-fit suit. It was a deep, bloody red, with orange stripes on the arms. Her shoes too looked nice, and the whole outfit was in fact--and curse her for knowing this--exactly in-fashion among what people down here would have called 'the upper-middies.'
He was pointing his fingers at her, accusingly, as she made her way over. She had had only a single class on the protocol, and that when it had been… topical. Just before the fall. So there was every chance in the world that she would mess something up.
But she went to them anyways, able to hear their voices and feel their emotions when she was closer. The man was angry, frustrated and accusatory, while the woman was evasive, effusive, hiding her emotions very well… compared to most of them, at least.
"Excuse me," Nima said.
The alien blinked, his golden eyes staring down at her. Dislike sprung from him, and after a moment she could untangle it as dislike for Jedi in general. It felt too impersonal to be anything else. "You are excused," he rumbled.
"It's simply that I saw you two were in an argument, and I was hoping I could help to settle it," she said, bowing. But she kept her head up, even craning it, so that if she had a horn, it would have been pointed right at his head, as was proper. "I am Nima Tyruti, Jedi Initiate, and you are, honored Gkr…"
Gkr was an honorific, honored merely pleasantry.
"Dutlov," he said. He was startled by her knowledge, and a little suspicious as well. No doubt if he had the right opportunity, he'd try to start an argument about how his planet, mostly loyal to the Republic, was still under Confederate bootheels, and probably would be for months more before it was finally targeted.
"And I am Lauren Leclarc," she said, in an accent remarkably similar to a Rylothi accent. Her voice was smooth, too.
"So what seems to be the argument?"
"Why is she coming here, dressed like this. This is for people who work for a living," Dutlov said. "Not swan around."
"Are you accusing me of being someone slumming?" Lauren asked, dangerously.
She could be. "No, simply of--"
"Simply of?" Nima asked. "Please, what is your accusation? Plain-speaking makes plain truth manifest."
Dutlov blinked, surprised at her quotation. Her no doubt familiar quotation. "She isn't rich, she's a criminal. A criminal who got in here and wears that because of ill-gotten gains."
"I am not," Lauren said. "I saved up for this with honest labor, because I love wearing a good suit, now and then. And maybe I wanted to show off." The concession was off-hand. "But I've been wearing cast-offs for months to afford this."
Nima did not, in the least, understand this mindset, but she nodded as if it was reasonable. "Do you have any information that links her to criminal activity? And even so, she's here unarmed, to eat a dinner. This is open to everyone from your level and nearby ones, so long as they don't cause trouble. I know that can be stressful, but this is a party, isn't it?" Nima let out a breath, and made her eyes as wide as she could make them.
He'd tell off a Jedi… but if she came off as a wise child, perhaps he wouldn't be so quick to anger. His claws tapped against his side, and she could feel his resolve weakening.
"Yes. It is," Dutlov conceded. "And it is said that to abstain from folly is the first step towards wisdom."
"And that rumors are like the bekla, a single touch can poison both friend and foe," Nima said, softly as she tapped her forehead, where a horn would be but wasn't. "Thank you for listening," and she let her voice go slightly pitched. Why not sound a little younger? Jedi were to have no dignity that they could not sacrifice. "I-I'd never think of making you give up grudges outside of here."
"I can see that," Dutlov said. "I must reconsider… my words. Here, at least." He bowed back to her, finally, very late, and strode away as if this had never happened.
Lauren, though, felt relieved… as if she'd dodged a blaster bolt. Oh.
"You seem worried," Nima said, dropping the slightly raised pitch and the wide eyes. She wasn't good at lying… and she hadn't lied. But it was a little more than she was used to doing.
"I'm… just fine," Lauren said.
Nima considered a dozen approaches, before saying with a soft, teasing smile. "I'm a Jedi."
"Are you reading my mind?" Lauren asked.
"We can't, well, I can't and I'm not," Nima said. "But… it felt as if you were reacting pretty strongly to the man's accusations."
For a moment she thought she'd said too much, but Lauren frowned and led her over to a corner, before standing near the wall, but not leaning against it. Perhaps because of her suit. Then, after another glance around to see if there was anyone listening, she whispered, "I've… done hacking for criminal elements in the past. That's probably where he's heard of Leclarc. Me, that is. I haven't been doing it in months, and I'm even thinking of working as some sort of cheap counter-hacker?" Lauren considered her words carefully. "And yet, if you try to make me repeat any of this, I'll say--"
"That the criminal elements were just… doing something legal?" Nima guessed.
"Yes." Lauren relaxed. "You know, you're charming for a Jedi. Or at least, the ones on the shows are usually quiet and intense. But yes, please don't start anything. I just thought you'd want to know."
"I do. And even if you did something in the past, I wouldn't tell someone else about this. I don't have details, and it's not murder," Nima admitted. She meant it, even. It wasn't her job to catch criminals.
"Well, thanks for that. Here, have this." She pulled out a white card.
'LC Leclarc--white helmet hacker' it read, followed by a holonet number. "It's old-fashioned, but I found this old machine that just pops them out, and so I've been handing them around. I doubt you'll ever have a reason to call, but if you want to."
Nima nodded. She'd keep it. You never knew, after all. "Thank you, Miss Leclarc. Oh, and the suit looks nice," Nima said truthfully. Colorful, and not that big of a deal to her.
But definitely nice.
*****
She broke up a few more arguments, and went around easing the minds of a few people who were miserable, using words alone. Mind-Healing on anyone here would be unethical and foolish. Eventually people started approaching Nima, as if they were aware of what she was doing.
In the play area with the games, there were a few teenagers who came up to her apparently just to talk, gawking at her for whatever reason, including a Twi'lek teenage boy that she realized only after a minute of awkward conversation was flirting with her or… something. Which meant she had to try to extract herself, which was especially difficult.
Jayne was in the background, sending emotions of chuckling towards her as the boy complimented her lekku, the Jedi, and other things.
Nima sent back an emotion approximately saying Laugh it up, Jayne.
He complied.
Towards the end of the night, bizarrely, she felt Wessen, who wasn't supposed to be there. And then saw her, dancing with Jayne in the mass of people who were enjoying themselves more than they had in a while. The two of them fit together as they moved, as they danced this way and that, hand in hand. And when Jayne saw Nima staring, he winked. Then turned back to look at Wessen with something like fondness.
The next morning, tired but still almost triumphant at the good that they'd done and the enjoyment they'd brought others, Nima began writing. She had ideas. A lot of ideas. Enough that she almost forgot what she'd seen, though she decided she'd ask when she felt willing to hear whatever the answer was.
Because what she'd felt was something like that one crush… but doubled.
*******
She wrote to distract herself, as more and more laws came down, so many that she didn't even want to think about it. The Republic was doing worse and worse, the war was turning on battles everywhere. Operation: Durge's Lance was tearing apart the hard-won advantage, and Confederate naval forces were waging a daring commerce raiding war. It was, in other words, a complete mess and which even if she'd spent all her time keeping up, she wouldn't be able to understand everything that was going wrong.
Other than that almost everything was going wrong. The crack was growing not just day by day, but hour by hour, or so it felt. She didn't know what to say to Jayne and Wessen, and so the first month of the new year came and passed as she studied and worked so hard that she barely dreamed of her mother.
But she did. Her mother's new boyfriend was… well, he was somewhat handsome, and seemed pleasant enough, and that was more than enough for Nima. But she wondered at the peeks she was getting. They felt changed, a little more vague, more snapshots than videos. It was hard to define, but she wondered if it had to do with her mind-senses.
And at the end of the second month of the year, she finally got her Mind-Healing down. At least once. It wasn't quite there, in that she felt a twinge of the emotion she was working with lance out at her, a little bit of the stress and exhaustion that Ayguin found it easiest to… have to deal with.
It wasn't a treat, having to endure bad moods and other problems all in the hopes that eventually she'd be able to actually heal it. But the time that she actually managed it, she leapt up, the stress drifting away, and if she was anyone less dignified she might have jumped up and down shouting.
But as she was dignified, she didn't do that, and even if she did, the only person who didn't see it was Ayguin, who would swear that it hadn't happened. Because, of course, it hadn't.
Nima was understandably pleased that she'd accomplished something she'd been working on for the better part of a year. That was all.
So she didn't race downstairs to go to talk to her friends after showing it off--no, after humbly demonstrating her new capacity--to Lexia. She certainly didn't burst into the room where Wessen and Jayne would be, bouncing on the balls of her feet and just barely able to restrain her own galloping, wild emotions.
She'd never worked on anything that long or that hard, any one individual thing, in her life. No language, no lightsaber technique… perhaps Jar'kai, but that was a little different. This was something that'd shape the rest of her life. She remembered what Lexia had said.
It wasn't false pride to think that she was probably an adequate Padawan by this point. Flawed, with plenty to improve, and yet more that'd need to be polished, but knowing Mind-Healing like that felt like proof that she'd been doing all of this for a reason.
She stopped in place as soon as she saw Wessen. Leaning against a wall. She hadn't sensed the girl, and even now she couldn't sense even a hint of emotion. But her head was bent, and her hand was shaking.
"Wessen! What happened?" Nima asked, her good mood slipping away. She let it, because she needed to do this. She'd allowed herself to be enthusiastic, but she needed to be steadier for her friend. Force knows what Katarina would have thought, to see her--or not see her, as it were--shout and jump up and down in triumph.
"Jayne," Wessen said. "I, I wonder if he was trying to show off to me. He got burnt. I'm not sure how bad."
"Burnt?"
"We were trying to escape t-this r-room. And w-w-w-we had g-guards. The clones. And it wasn't o-one room. It was several."
"And you had to get out?"
"Y-y-yes. He found an incinerator, and m-managed to punch a hole in it. T-t-they didn't expect it. The I-incinerator was f-f-for disposing of m-messages. And…"
"And you were with him and he got… burnt?"
"Yes. He d-did it, and t-then we could escape, but I haven't seen him s-s-s--"
She trailed off. Her shaking was getting worse, and Nima darted forward to hug Wessen. She hadn't had a good hug in a while, and she couldn't feel Wessen but she knew this would help a little. "He'll be okay. You shouldn't worry."
"I… guess." Wessen frowned, her tentacles slipping against Nima's face in what felt like an extension of the hug. "H-he. He's so smart and brave, and he cares so m-m-much about the o-outside world. N-not like some people, who aren't c-c-curious at all."
"Like?" Nima asked softly.
"Aydan. H-he tried to apologize. T-the other day."
"And you said…?"
"T-that I didn't forgive him," Wessen said, her voice a hiss.
"You can't demand forgiveness, and isn't that what it felt like?" Nima asked. She hadn't talked to Hannah yet, not so much because she was unwilling to forgive but that she was worried that Hannah would demand to be forgiven and ruin the truce. It was like a fire, there was only so close you could get before you started to worry about getting burnt.
"Y-you're right. How did you…"
"I try," Nima said, giving her goofiest grin. "I'm sure that he'll be okay, and if he did what it takes to win…"
"H-he did."
"A friend of mine, Scout, knows all about that kind of thing. It's the sort of trick she'd do," Nima said. Though Nima was absolutely certain that Scout wasn't involved in the sorts of lessons Jayne was. Perhaps she should be, and it was always possible that she could find a Master who was interested in someone to learn from scratch. Nima wasn't sure. Scout was a little downcast lately, her emotions steady… but the wrong sort of steady.
"Y-yes," Wessen said. "I think he… oh!" The oh is a whisper. "He's coming?"
Nima could feel him after a minute of staring at the door. Wessen had felt him earlier than she had, which probably said something both about his stealth, Nima's self-centered mood, and Wessen's closeness to him.
He strode him, his arms still a bit burnt, but wrapped up, and with bandages around his legs, grinning so wide he looked like Elize for a moment. "Hello, Wessen, hello Nim--"
He rocked back on his feet as Wessen rose, pushing out almost playfully with the Force. Almost, because there was a little frustration there. "S-s-sorry. B-but you c-c-can't do that. I was s-so-so. Worried. I was worried, okay?"
Her tentacles were fidgeting, and it looked like she was holding herself back from what would be a very painful hug, for him at least.
"I know. But I got to talking to a Knight, Lorccan Roel. He said he wanted me to be his Padawan. But I said I'd think about it, but that he should leave me to get up, because I needed to be sure."
Wessen stared.
Nima tried to hide her shock. You didn't just tell someone you want time… and then make them leave.
"Y-you remembered?"
"Of course I'd keep my promises to you, Wessen," Jayne said, his eyes soft with emotion. "I won't accept if you don't want it. I don't want to scare you, or hurt you, by going off far away and dy… dying."
"Tell me a-about him?" Wessen asked, sounding like an officer asking for a report.
"He wants to stay on Coruscant. Spying on people, dealing with the criminal underworld. I'd still live in the Temple, at least until I'm sixteen or the war ends," Jayne said. "So I'd be able to see you plenty, and I'd get to see Coruscant for real this time."
Wessen nodded, looking thoughtful as she approached. "Hmm."
"So, Wessen. Will you permit me?" It sounded so formal, but there was something about all of this that felt as if it was some ritual, some ceremony. As if they all knew their parts. He meant it, that was obvious. He'd turn down what seemed to be his dream Master if she didn't want him to. It answered some things but left others quite uncertain and confused.
She stepped forward. "I w-will."
"Thank you," Jayne said.
"If," Wessen said, and sounded almost smug.
"If?"
"Y-you go to the H-halls of H-healing with me. Right now. Y-y-you should lie down, n-not be here," Wessen said.
"I came all this way because you were here," Jayne said, almost petulantly.
"And I l-l-like you for it," Wessen said, her face darkening slightly. "But you w-will d-do as I say."
"Yes ma'am," Jayne said, with a half-salute. "I do as you say in all things."
"G-good," Wessen said, and Nima's heart sort of soared to see how much her friend had, well. Uncoiled. "You s-should. D-don't do something that f-f-foolish again."
"I don't know if I can…"
Wessen shrugged and stepped towards him. "T-think about it. L-learn. If y-y-you'd taken time I c-could have given you layers…"
"Time we didn't have," Jayne said, archly, but with a smile teasing his lips.
"M-maybe," Wessen admitted. As if this was some long-running argument that wouldn't ever end.
"Why were you at the party, Wessen?" Nima asked, while she still had time.
"T-there was an a-assignment. To i-infiltrate a party. A-a-as a guest. O-once there I had to d-d-dance. And Jayne was less likely to notice any flaws I made. So. I danced with him."
It felt like something between the truth and a lie, but Nima nodded.
"Oh! There's one more thing," Jayne said, as Wessen began to carefully lead him out. "I'm sorry we're talking to you so quickly and leaving. I didn't intend--"
"It's fine. What is it?" Nima asked, curiously.
"How has the meditation been going? With the crack?" Jayne asked. "It feels like…"
"It's been going alright. I feel like I'm closer to understanding it," Nima said. "It's at least two-thousand feet down, and possibly more. And there's a lot to take in." That was all true, but she wasn't revealing a lot of what she'd seen. She felt as if she understood the emotions of the two… beings. They didn't seem as if they were threats, at least not to her, but if they heard that there were… people down there. Then what would they say? What if it was a Sith trap, or--
Nima didn't know what the Sith felt like, but if that was it, then…
It couldn't be them. She got too good of a look, and there was too much about the two beings that didn't fit that.
"So, you're close to a breakthrough?"
"Maybe a few more weeks," Nima said. She meant it, too. It felt sometimes as if the being was about to speak: the nicer of the two. The sterner still seemed to be keeping its distance. She didn't know what she'd do once they were communicating by mind. But she knew it was coming. She could feel it. "I promise, I'll figure it out."
"You're closer than any of us," Jayne said with a polite nod.
She watched them go, Wessen leading him by her finger tips, and opened her mouth to try to warn them. She couldn't feel their emotions all that well, but after that display, what was going on was quite obvious. Quite obvious and rather dangerous, in its own way. But she wasn't going to tell anyone, and she wasn't going to try to stop… this. They were young, and--
And she didn't want Wessen to stop being so happy and confident, so different from the girl she'd met… it was almost years, now. Almost two years.
She knelt by the cracks. Cracks, plural now. It was spread so far, and she couldn't even see where the stone fully closed in. It wasn't all the way there yet, and so she closed her eyes and let herself be as open as she could be. An hour later, she felt it.
Felt it, and then heard it. Heard it, and didn't understand it at all. It was a man's voice, possibly human, with an accent that vaguely reminded her of… she wasn't sure. It'd been too long since she'd studied languages, and she tried to work through it. Work through it, because she couldn't understand the words.
They shared some of the same linguistic roots as Basic, but it wasn't High-Mid basic, which was the farthest back she'd really read about language changes. High-Mid Basic was nine-thousand years old, which meant that this was older than that. Perhaps one of the languages that spiralled off from Basic over the years? But the vowels, especially…
The vowels were elongated, the phrases choppy, in a way that reminded her of Transitional Mid-Basic, almost. But not quite, and she had no idea what that meant. She listened to the babble, and then reached the mind and managed to say--not just emotions, but words--'I don't understand.'
The babbling stopped, and Nima had an impression that neither did he.
She decided to try something. She focused as much as she could on a picture of a head, the outline of one, with its mouth open, and symbols coming from it, and then made a red slash appear through it. I can't understand you.
She felt understanding, and then a vision popped in her head. The crack was open, all the way, and Nima was standing at the edge with rope, enough of it to get her down, as well as a bag of field rations, and… she wasn't sure what it was. It was bigger and clunkier than she was used to, but she recognized it. Some sort of electronics. And from it were coming those… symbols.
A translation device of some sort. The Jedi had those, they analyzed a language and helped one learn it. That, combined with the Force sense that the Jedi had, was why Nima was able to learn so many languages. It was like having a teacher right there.
Then this vision-Nima rappelled down into the darkness.
He wanted her to come down. No… wait. He was saying he'd open up the way if she came.
Nima tried to figure out how to say 'when' and settled on throwing him back a picture of the sun, and it moving. Hopefully he understood that.
She was sent back a picture of the moon, hanging in the center of the sky. Midnight, she guessed.
She pictured her friends, Jayne and Wessen.
He sent back a picture of the crack, as it was now, instead of entirely open. Then there was a red slash through it.
Bring nobody else, that much was clear.
Then, her head, pictured by him, with the lekku circled.
She sent him back a picture of herself, standing in her initiates clothes. 'I am Nima.' An arrow pointed to her heart. 'I am a Twi'lek.' An arrow to her face. 'These are Lekku' an arrow to her twin lekku.
Then she heard his voice. First, a phrase that was something like 'I am', if she had to guess. And then.
Seluku.
What to do?
[] This is a chance, an opportunity. Yes, it's dangerous, going down to some strange hidden… thing on the word of a guy she'd never seen. But she could feel him. He felt sad, he felt merciful, he felt playful. And this was a chance, an opportunity she wouldn't have for a long time, if ever.
[] No. Searching one's feelings is important, but so is hierarchy. She should tell the Jedi Council, and not risk herself on something that could be a trap. After all, why bring food unless she's meant to be there longer than a few hours. Unless the person was hungry, but then… what? Too many dangers for an initiate, that's what this is.
******
A/N: Thanks to Nemo. Also, updating the front page character sheet in two ways. Check it out.
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[X] This is a chance, an opportunity. Yes, it's dangerous, going down to some strange hidden… thing on the word of a guy she'd never seen. But she could feel him. He felt sad, he felt merciful, he felt playful. And this was a chance, an opportunity she wouldn't have for a long time, if ever.
ADVENTURE!
ADVENTURE!
[X] This is a chance, an opportunity. Yes, it's dangerous, going down to some strange hidden… thing on the word of a guy she'd never seen. But she could feel him. He felt sad, he felt merciful, he felt playful. And this was a chance, an opportunity she wouldn't have for a long time, if ever.
[X] This is a chance, an opportunity. Yes, it's dangerous, going down to some strange hidden… thing on the word of a guy she'd never seen. But she could feel him. He felt sad, he felt merciful, he felt playful. And this was a chance, an opportunity she wouldn't have for a long time, if ever.
Prince Charon
Just zis guy, you know?
[X] No. Searching one's feelings is important, but so is hierarchy. She should tell the Jedi Council, and not risk herself on something that could be a trap. After all, why bring food unless she's meant to be there longer than a few hours. Unless the person was hungry, but then… what? Too many dangers for an initiate, that's what this is.
- Location
- BaWü
[X] This is a chance, an opportunity. Yes, it's dangerous, going down to some strange hidden… thing on the word of a guy she'd never seen. But she could feel him. He felt sad, he felt merciful, he felt playful. And this was a chance, an opportunity she wouldn't have for a long time, if ever.
- Location
- Midway
[X] This is a chance, an opportunity. Yes, it's dangerous, going down to some strange hidden… thing on the word of a guy she'd never seen. But she could feel him. He felt sad, he felt merciful, he felt playful. And this was a chance, an opportunity she wouldn't have for a long time, if ever.
[X] This is a chance, an opportunity. Yes, it's dangerous, going down to some strange hidden… thing on the word of a guy she'd never seen. But she could feel him. He felt sad, he felt merciful, he felt playful. And this was a chance, an opportunity she wouldn't have for a long time, if ever.
- Location
- Vancouver
[X] This is a chance, an opportunity. Yes, it's dangerous, going down to some strange hidden… thing on the word of a guy she'd never seen. But she could feel him. He felt sad, he felt merciful, he felt playful. And this was a chance, an opportunity she wouldn't have for a long time, if ever.
- Location
- California
[X] This is a chance, an opportunity. Yes, it's dangerous, going down to some strange hidden… thing on the word of a guy she'd never seen. But she could feel him. He felt sad, he felt merciful, he felt playful. And this was a chance, an opportunity she wouldn't have for a long time, if ever.
So anyways things to note: we now have the mind healing skill and proper blaster-bolt deflection!
We can now kill stormtroopers by the millions. Remember, stormtroopers aren't people. Do your duty for the rebellion and lightsaber some stormtroopers today!
-This statement has been sponsored by Kyle Katarn and his beard.
Also, Wessen is in love with Jayne. Huh. Figured the lack of tentacles and a face ripping beak would put a damper on it but hey whatever floats her boat.
Also, the ghosts name doesn't seem to show up from anything. No idea who they are.
We can now kill stormtroopers by the millions. Remember, stormtroopers aren't people. Do your duty for the rebellion and lightsaber some stormtroopers today!
-This statement has been sponsored by Kyle Katarn and his beard.
Also, Wessen is in love with Jayne. Huh. Figured the lack of tentacles and a face ripping beak would put a damper on it but hey whatever floats her boat.
Also, the ghosts name doesn't seem to show up from anything. No idea who they are.
- Pronouns
- They/Them
It's startling to hear you say that after all you've seen of Lark and the others.
(I mean, I was pretty up-front about some of the themes of this Quest.)
- Location
- United States of America
[X] This is a chance, an opportunity. Yes, it's dangerous, going down to some strange hidden… thing on the word of a guy she'd never seen. But she could feel him. He felt sad, he felt merciful, he felt playful. And this was a chance, an opportunity she wouldn't have for a long time, if ever.
Ah, but I said Stormtroopers not clone troopers.It's startling to hear you say that after all you've seen of Lark and the others.
(I mean, I was pretty up-front about some of the themes of this Quest.)
Also, the statement was sponsored by Kyle Katarn and his beard.
Kyle Katarn: When you absolutely positively need that infestation of Stormtroopers cleaned out.
[X] This is a chance, an opportunity. Yes, it's dangerous, going down to some strange hidden… thing on the word of a guy she'd never seen. But she could feel him. He felt sad, he felt merciful, he felt playful. And this was a chance, an opportunity she wouldn't have for a long time, if ever.
- Location
- PA
...IDK about you guys but I thought I heard something about a Sith/ancient Force Temple down there in the discussions.
Which is something I'm a bit leery of digging into...But on the flipside, this isn't some ancient thing that will just unearth itself if we bring others, given the 'ghost' will only open up if we come alone, so that's also important to note...
Bah, but I don't think I have the arguments to dissuade you guys from this course of action. Just be wary please.
Which is something I'm a bit leery of digging into...But on the flipside, this isn't some ancient thing that will just unearth itself if we bring others, given the 'ghost' will only open up if we come alone, so that's also important to note...
Bah, but I don't think I have the arguments to dissuade you guys from this course of action. Just be wary please.
- Location
- Somewhere!
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Just providing some facts around this: You've seen two of the ghosts in question in a previous update, wandering around the temple.
This might be useful information regardless of which side you favor in the vote, really, so I hope everyone keeps the past updates in mind.
[X] This is a chance, an opportunity. Yes, it's dangerous, going down to some strange hidden… thing on the word of a guy she'd never seen. But she could feel him. He felt sad, he felt merciful, he felt playful. And this was a chance, an opportunity she wouldn't have for a long time, if ever.
I am very wary, but also so, so intrigued. I'll regret it if we don't do this. I hope Nima is smart enough to leave a note in her room or something, so the Masters know where to look if she does not come back.
I am very wary, but also so, so intrigued. I'll regret it if we don't do this. I hope Nima is smart enough to leave a note in her room or something, so the Masters know where to look if she does not come back.
- Location
- Austria
[X] This is a chance, an opportunity. Yes, it's dangerous, going down to some strange hidden… thing on the word of a guy she'd never seen. But she could feel him. He felt sad, he felt merciful, he felt playful. And this was a chance, an opportunity she wouldn't have for a long time, if ever.
Plot!
Plot!
- Location
- Nowhere
- Pronouns
- She/her
[X] This is a chance, an opportunity. Yes, it's dangerous, going down to some strange hidden… thing on the word of a guy she'd never seen. But she could feel him. He felt sad, he felt merciful, he felt playful. And this was a chance, an opportunity she wouldn't have for a long time, if ever.
[X] This is a chance, an opportunity. Yes, it's dangerous, going down to some strange hidden… thing on the word of a guy she'd never seen. But she could feel him. He felt sad, he felt merciful, he felt playful. And this was a chance, an opportunity she wouldn't have for a long time, if ever.
Ultramandalore
Errant Quester
- Location
- just south of Parts Unknown
[X] This is a chance, an opportunity. Yes, it's dangerous, going down to some strange hidden… thing on the word of a guy she'd never seen. But she could feel him. He felt sad, he felt merciful, he felt playful. And this was a chance, an opportunity she wouldn't have for a long time, if ever.