The sun was about to set.
A heavy warmth drifted over the plains of Dantooine, settling in a soothing blanket over the sienna-colored ferrocrete of the Jedi Enclave. It was as if the universe itself was settling down to sleep; slowly giving way to a long, peaceful slumber that it might never wake up from.
Birds twittered, grasses waved in the breeze, and the resident Jedi paced their slow, contented strides to match the planet's restful heartbeat.
Gunships powered up; the whine of their powerful turbines breaking through the melodious birdsong. Officers barked orders as they loaded the ships with supplies and renegade Jedi alike.
Tearful goodbyes and last-minute pleas pierced the serene atmosphere. It was a scene of great conflict and change; two completely different worlds roiling and crashing together in a cacophony of alien emotions, sights, and sounds.
Today, the Order would be divided.
A lone apprentice traversed the achingly empty halls, his silent, careful footsteps making nary a sound as he traveled away from the central courtyard. Under his lanky arm, he carried a precious stack of datapads; a burden made all the heavier by the knowledge that, in time, even the possession of these simple tomes would be denied him.
Most of the Knights had left; amongst them was his own master. Finding a spare individual to teach the likes of him – remarkably intelligent but comparatively weak in the Force – had been difficult as it was. Now, with so many apprentices left behind and so few teachers left to go around…he held no doubts as to what his fate would be. All his work, all his effort – it had been all for naught.
The apprentice walked out into the rear courtyard and breathed in the rich Dantooinian air, releasing his anxiety and frustration with another slow exhale. Though it seemed as if nothing would soothe his troubled soul at the moment, he knew he would heal and adapt in time. All he could do now was carry on as usual and try to absorb as much information as he could, while it was all still possible.
"Fancy meeting you here, scholar boy," a voice rang out, caustic and blunt as the acrid screech of the ships' turbines.
Mical's head snapped up to regard none other than Aria Drako, the darling of the Jedi war movement. The former Jedi was balancing on one of the courtyard walls, walking along and kicking at strategically-placed stones every once in a while. She was grinning in an uncharacteristically goofy, carefree manner; one that was unbecoming for either the intensely-focused Jedi duelist or the fierce, determined Republic General.
He looked at her confusedly, wondering what could have possibly inspired her to make such a decision. Aria was a brilliant girl, excelling far past those of her own age group. Even those who did not know her directly were well aware of her natural talent for lightsaber combat. She had once been one of the most prestigious Guardians-in-training, being groomed and trained to succeed Master Kavar himself.
Despite her skill with the blade, however, she'd routinely needed tutoring sessions from him. In addition to being an impressive duelist, Aria had also been an incredibly lousy student; her distaste for studying in the Archives was only rivaled by her love for combat training. It was during these many tutoring sessions that she became much more to him than a duelist or a rebel; she had become an acquaintance, or perhaps even a friend, to him. As such, he simply couldn't bring himself to think of her as a traitor to the Jedi Order…she could only be Aria in his mind.
"Well, are you going to answer me, or are you going to stand there like a stunned nuna?" Aria spoke up again, placing her hands on her hips.
"Oh, um…hello," Mical replied awkwardly. "I hadn't expected to see anyone out here, least of all you. Isn't your transport going to be heading out soon?"
Aria shrugged, still pacing atop the thick, low barrier. "I wanted to take one last look before I left this forever. You know, take a moment to stop and think about my time here. Kinda crazy, I know, considering how much I hate this place…but what can I say? I'm deep like that."
"I see," Mical said as he approached her. "And what, pray tell, is going through your mind at the moment?"
She stopped pacing and turned to face him. Her stormy grey eyes looked up at the sky, roving over the soft purplish-pink clouds as she collected her thoughts. "It's kind of weird how everybody else is fighting for someone or something, and I'm just…fighting, you know? It's like… I want to defend the Republic, but joining up with the war effort is also my way of finally getting off this planet."
Aria looked back down at him, her eyes appearing jaded and forlorn. "Sometimes, I dunno - it just bugs me that my priorities can be so screwed up; yet at the same time, I know I'm doing the right thing."
The apprentice shook his head in confusion. "I understand what you mean…and at the same time, I don't. You're set to be one of the youngest Knights this Order has ever seen. Why would you give all of that up, when you could just wait a few years…months, even…and roam the galaxy as a full-fledged Jedi?"
Aria sighed, "I thought about it. A lot. And…I don't want to be a Jedi anymore." Her eyes locked on to his and she began to rant, "Come on, Mic, think about it. You ask a little kid if they want to come to a special academy where they can learn to wave around light-swords and have superpowers; of course they're going to say yes! What they don't tell you about is the rigidity, the unforgiving strictness, the endless control over body and mind. They don't tell you about the maddening monotony of going through the same motions each and every day, conforming to the same dull rut until you're left wondering if your own existence even means a thing anymore. Here, they tell me what to wear, what to say, what to think, what to do – they even told me I had to change my own name after my sister joined the Jedi!" Aria shook her head and met his gaze; her grey eyes flashing with intensity. "They took everything from me, including my ownname, and I have nothing to show for it. I just need to get away for awhile; find out what else is there for me in this galaxy. And this is pretty much the only thing I've ever trained for, so…why not?"
A worried pang sprung up in Mical's stomach. Certainly she wouldn't be so desperate as to literally fight for her freedom? Any number of catastrophes could befall her on the battlefield, especially at the young age of sixteen. "Couldn't you just leave if you wanted to?" he asked. "Honestly, I can't imagine that it would be a very good idea to go to war simply because you don't know what else to do. To survive in times of tribulation, one needs to have something important and dear to their hearts; something that gives their fight ameaning, a purpose." His blue eyes searched her own, silently pleading with her to reconsider. "What would you fight for, Aria?"
Aria let out a short breath. Wasn't the answer obvious enough already? "I'd fight to keep the Republic safe, of course. That's what I have been trained to do my whole life; it's what I've always believed I was meant to do."
Mical shook his head in frustration. "No, that's what everyone in the war effort is fighting for. What are you fighting for, personally? What gives this act of rebellion - of boundless risk to life and limb – meaning to you?"
A long pause ensued, as she tried to come up with a suitable answer. "I don't really know," she finally said, her voice uncharacteristically quiet. Her expression seemed to grow colder as she retorted, "It's not like that's my fault, either. I just don't have anybody or anything to fight for. Alek is going to war to protect Bastila. Roxana is going to war because she wants to stay by Alek's side. But me…I don't even remember my parents, and I'm not allowed to talk to my sister. I don't have a sweetheart, or even a close friend. I'm just fighting for mecause I'm pretty much alone in the galaxy," she shrugged, "Nobody else is going to fight to keep me safe, so I might as well do it myself."
"You are not alone, Aria," Mical insisted. "I mean…you've got me."
Aria's lips quirked into a thoughtful smile, and she rested her chin atop her fist. "Guess so. No offense, though, but unless I plan to readmy way onto a Coruscanti transport, I don't see how that's going to help me get the frack off this planet," she joked.
"Is there any way I could convince you to stay? After all, with so few knights and masters left, there are bound to be some early promotions, and…I think that, with my knowledge of Jedi doctrine and your combat prowess, we could make a good Master-Padawan team."
"I'm sorry, Mic, I can't stay. I just can't," she said, crossing her arms regretfully. "And I know that, if I made myself stay, I wouldn't be the kind of Knight that you deserve to have as your Master. I'm a fighter. You're a scholar. We're in two different worlds here, bud."
"I have to admit; you are making a lot of sense, though I can't say I'll be happy to see you go. You were a good friend, if not an easily distracted pupil," Mical said with a sad smile. Slowly, he walked forward and sat on the divider, next to where Aria was standing. "I suppose you wouldn't mind if I joined you during your last few minutes here at the Enclave?"
"Sure," Aria shrugged. "I could use the company." She hopped off the short wall and sat next to him, looking out and observing the plains in companionable silence.
They were an odd pair, to be sure. One was outgoing and unpredictable; the other calm and gentle. Even the casual observer would be able to see it in the way Aria casually leaned back and whimsically swung her legs to and fro; in Mical's dignified stance as he continued to cradle the stack of datapads in his arms. And yet, something seemed…natural…about the unspoken, quiet understanding that passed between them.
It was a true friendship. Small and easily overlooked, but true nonetheless.
Despite her aloof, nonchalant exterior, waves of anxiety were washing over Aria's heart in an endless typhoon. The Jedi had been all she had ever known, and here she was, facing an unknown future and countless dangers. Yet, Mical's subdued, introspective presence was oddly soothing, as if simply being in the presence of her friend was enough to break through the deep waves of emotion roiling within her. She'd always found that particular phenomenon to be interesting; it was why she had chosen the patient, soft-spoken boy as a tutor so many years ago.
However, over the years, that innocuous interest concerning the scholar's nature had transformed into curiosity, and eventually, it led to a tentative sort of bond between the two. How else could she feel nothing but a leveling calm wash over her when he met her eyes from across the Jedi Archives; knowing that she could always find a listening ear and a voice of reason when he was around? How many times had she stormed into his presence, bellowing tirades about some particularly irritating instructor or classmate, only to be placated by his logical reason and soothing voice just minutes later?
Suddenly, an idea struck her. She leaned to the side and nudged the apprentice beside her, though she was still mentally debating whether or not she should voice her thoughts. They sounded mushy and ridiculous even inside her own head; how much more embarrassing would they be if she spoke them aloud?
"Hm?" Mical said absentmindedly. "What is it?"
"So, um, I was thinking," Aria started out, her tone reluctant.
"Oh sweet Force, we're all doomed," the scholar quietly murmured, with just a hint of a mischievous smile.
Aria laughed and nudged him again, this time a little more forcefully. "Would you shut up and let me finish?" she said with amused exasperation. "Okay, so I was thinking…um, would you mind if I fought for you? I mean…I've got nobody else, and I figured that we're friends, so…" she trailed off, hurriedly averting her eyes back to the landscape.
She visibly cringed at the awkwardness of her own speech; the way her words had sounded so jumbled-up and rushed that it was almost comical. He's gonna say no, she scowled to herself. He's just going to say no, and you'll have made a fool of yourself for nothing.
"I would be honored, actually," he replied, causing Aria to flinch back in surprise.
"What?" she asked incredulously.
Mical seemed confused as he clarified, "Uhm…you would prefer for me to say 'no'?"
"No!" Aria burst out. "It's just that…I thought you disapproved of the war effort and all."
"I do, but my own personal opinions have not made me so callous as to ignore the significance of your request," he replied smoothly. "You are asking this of me as a friend, and I am simply responding in kind."
The apprehension left Aria's expression, and she visibly relaxed; her eyelashes resting on her cheeks as she looked down at the ground. "Thanks," she said at length. "It, uh…that's really nice of you."
Mical shrugged, "To tell the truth, I hardly feel like I deserve such attention. I'm just a soon-to-be-outcast apprentice, after all. Hardly memorable, especially for one such as yourself."
Soon-to-be outcast. Hardly memorable.
For some reason, the words struck a chord deep within Aria's hardened, callous heart. She turned to look at him, her head quirking to the side in an expression of subdued curiosity. "I'm never going to see you again, am I?" she asked; right to the point.
"I wouldn't say that," he said, albeit hesitantly. "After all, the galaxy is a finite place, with individuals constantly migrating in an endless pattern of motion and chance. I believe our paths may cross again, if fate so declares."
Aria smiled and shook her head. His speech was always so cultured and elegant; it was a quirk that she would definitely miss in the gritty and chaotic world of the battlefield.
"ARIA! Time to go!" Alek bellowed from the docking bay. "We're running late, so get on the kriffing transport or we're leaving without you!"
Aria's jaw snapped shut as she glared in the direction of the docking bay, furious at Alek for interrupting the moment of lighthearted camaraderie. "Jeez, Squint, don't blow a head-gasket! I'm coming!" she yelled back.
When she turned back to Mical, her expression immediately softened as a gut-wrenching sense of finality overcame her. This was it. They were really going to part ways. Even though she'd never given much thought to their friendship, it was still a part of her. It was something that had helped to make her the person she was; something that she was being forced to bury against her will, in the cruel, unrelenting process of trading identity for freedom.
"I guess this is goodbye, then," she said quietly, holding out a hand.
Mical shook his head, but accepted the handshake anyway. "No, not 'goodbye'. It's more like… 'until we meet again'," he amended with a smile.
Aria mirrored his smile, "Alright, Mic. Until we meet again."
Another impatient shout echoed from the docking bay, shattering the bittersweet peacefulness of the moment, "Aria! Seriously, come on!"
A flicker of panic resounded in Aria's stormy eyes, and she suddenly found herself wishing for more time; just a few more moments to capture whatever slippery, evasive words still needed to be said here and now. But their time had run out, and Aria abandoned the handshake to throw her arms around his shoulders and capture her only friend…her past…her childhood…in one first - and last - embrace.
I'll miss you. I'd never admit it, cause I hate this blasted place so much and I'm too kriffing proud to admit that you're the only thing I'll miss…but it's true.
His arms went around her, and his head leaned against hers.
I know. You don't have to say it, but I know.
"I'll come back," she said quickly. "When the war's over, I'll sign on as a Republic agent and I'll come back. I promise."
"I believe you," he replied softly.
Aria drew back reluctantly, her eyes reflecting pools of regret as she released her grip on his shoulders; taking his hands and then letting go of those, too. "I have to go," she whispered, already backing away even as she continued to look at him with tear-filled eyes. "Do me a favor, okay? Don't…don't stop by the docking bay to see me off. Just…stay here. Like this. So I can remember."
"Of course, Aria," Mical nodded somberly, though he truly wanted nothing more than to follow after her. Still, he knew that her path was the far more difficult one; and if this was what she needed to keep her strong in the coming months, it was what she would have.
As she was about to round the doorway, she spoke one last sentence; though her voice was so quiet it was barely a whisper. "Raye," she told him. "My real name is Raye."
Then she was gone. Just one last swish of robes and black hair, and it was like she had never existed; like she had only been an enigmatic phantom, dodging and sliding away from his grasp until she finally vanished into the Enclave's empty sienna halls.
He heard the soft clatter of her footsteps as she ran up the transport's docking ramp, never pausing to look back. The durasteel behemoth closed in on itself and lifted into the air; as if the machine was impatient to deliver its precious cargo into its realm of chaos and blaster fire and destruction. Around him, the grasses waved with the soft, sickly-warm breeze of the starships' exhaust, as they flew higher and higher, taking her away…
And then, with one last glimmer as the ships jumped to hyperspace…he was alone.
Tears glistened in Mical's eyes. If only she knew how bittersweet her goodbye had been; how much he had truly admired her as a Jedi and a friend. If only she knew how it pained him; spending years wishing to simply know her, but having to settle for a few rushed moments in lieu of the deep, lasting connection he had wanted.
But perhaps, someday she shall know.
He raised his eyes to the cloudy heavens and whispered, "Until we meet again…Raye."
A/N: This is a practice-story I did a long time ago, because I wanted to try my hand at writing Exile/Disciple and this idea just wouldn't leave me alone. I always imagined Raye - who is called Aria here because the Jedi Council wanted to conceal her identity from her younger sister and so they forced her to choose a new name - ready to storm off and save the galaxy from the Sith, thinking that there was nothing left for her in the Order anyway, and then realizing at the last second that maybe, just maybe, she did have a friend there after all.
And, as you can probably tell, Disciple was inspired to move on by the certainty and boldness that Raye exhibited. She wasn't going to let herself be cast adrift by fate, so neither would he. I'm thinking that he became a Republic agent both to honor the person who gave him the courage to build a new life, and as an attempt to find her again. Of course, he DOES find her again, but that's another story for another time.
So anyway, that's that. I'd appreciate any comments or feedback, seeing as there are probably some mistakes in here due to this being un-proofread. (Like I said, it's just practice, so I didn't want to bother my beta reader unnecessarily. )