As Darra raced into the medical ward at the Temple, she was greeted by a reproving scowl from the female healer behind the desk, who hissed, "You'll wake the patients."

"Sorry, Master," Darra apologized, her cheeks blushing with embarrassment and exertion as she realized that the woman was correct. She stopped running and noted disgustedly that more sweat was pouring down her back now from her mad rush to the medical ward. When she finally got around to taking her much needed shower, it wouldn't be a fun experience. "Do you know where Tru Veld is?"

"He's in the room the farthest down on the left," the healer replied, still wearing her disapproving expression.

Before the woman could ask her what her business was or inform her that Tru wasn't accepting visitors right now, Darra hurried down the hallway, taking care not to run and awaken any patients this time.

When she entered Tru's room, she almost smacked into the chest of a tall, muscular man. "Sorry, Master Gaul," she said, looking up at the person she had almost rammed into. Obviously, she had to stop rushing about like this. It was making her clumsy, and it was getting rather humiliating to keep having to apologize like this. Oh, well, at least she wouldn't get arrogant as long as she kept making an idiot of herself like this.

Then, it occurred to her that maybe she had intruded on something important between Ry-Gaul and Tru, and she stuttered, "Um, I was just going to see Tru, but I could see him later if he's busy."

"I was just leaving." With that, Ry-Gaul turned and left the room.

"He's rather an abrupt man, isn't he?" she remarked once she was certain that the broad man was out of earshot, and, when she said earshot, she meant Jedi earshot, which tended to be a longer range than that of most sentients.

"Yes." Tru shrugged, and Darra was relieved to see that he was capable of that motion. He looked a little paler than usual, leaning against a mound of pillows on the sleep couch, and his arms were covered with bandages and salves. "He's my new Master now, though."

"He's what?" Darra repeated, certain that she had misheard.

"My new Master," answered Tru, offering her a somewhat wan version of his typical sly grin. "While you're at the healers, Darra, you might want to see about getting your ears checked."

"I wouldn't have trouble understanding you if you spoke in complete sentences like most sentients," she volleyed back, sitting in the wooden chair next to his sleep couch. Still not sure that what she had heard him say wasn't a hallucination, she continued more hesitantly, "You're a Padawan."

"Normally that's what happens when a Jedi asks a student to be his apprentice and the student agrees," Tru confirmed, nodding. Then, his eyes shadowed. "Force, Darra, I shouldn't be saying stuff like this—"

"You can say stuff like that all you want," interrupted Darra, "because Soara Antana asked me to be her Padawan after the tournament ended, and I said yes. We're both going to be Padawans, Tru! Neither of us are going to be sent away from the Temple. Both of us are going to become Jedi. We'll be able to go on missions together sometimes—"

"And we'll be able to see each other on the Temple between missions," cut in Tru. "We'll be able to tell each other all about are travels around the galaxy. We'll be able to tell each other all about how we managed to bring peace and justice to worlds torn apart by strife."

"It will be wonderful," Darra murmured, smiling at the bright future they were painting in their minds together. Looking at Tru, some of her excitement was reduced when she saw the bandages coating his arms, and she added, "Are you all right? I came up here to check on you. I would have come up here sooner, but I was busy with Master Soara and everything."

"It's just as well you waited, since it gave Ry-Gaul time to ask me to be his Padawan in private like he wanted to do," Tru informed her. "Oh, and, yes, I am fine. I feel a bit cut up and bruised, but that will be healed soon, and I'm going to be a Padawan. I would take injuries twice as bad as these to be a Padawan, and I couldn't be happier than I am right now."

"Neither could I." Darra's eyes sparkled as she chuckled. "I am sweaty, my muscles are sore, my robes are singed, my hair is a mess, and my cheeks are on fire, but I couldn't be better. I must be insane."

"If you are, it's an endearing sort of insanity," commented Tru, laughing. "I also share that brand of insanity."

"Maybe we should get a group together for group therapy," Darra suggested, convinced that her heart might just break in happiness.

"No, I don't want to recover from my madness." Tru shook his head. Then, he sobered suddenly and demanded uncertainly, "This isn't a dream, is it?"

"If it is, then we're having the same one," replied Darra softly. "That doesn't seem likely, since I pinched myself when Soara asked me to be her apprentice. She must think I'm crazy for doing that, speaking of it."

"It's good to start out a relationship by being honest about yourself," Tru teased.

Darra was about to tell him in no uncertain terms just how lucky he was that he was too battered for her to lob a pillow at him when the healer who had given Darra a hard time in the hallway earlier entered.

"Visiting hours are over," the woman educated Darra sternly. "You'll have to leave now. This boy needs his rest."

"I'm going." Calling the woman a stick-in-the-swamp in her head, Darra followed the healer out of the room. At the threshold, she spun around to wave at Tru, saying, "May the Force be with you. If you're still here tomorrow, I promise I'll find time to drop in to see you sometime before visiting hours end."

Then, she sailed past the glowering healer and exited the medical ward, telling herself that if this was a dream, it was the best one that she had ever had and that she never wanted it to end.