Kurik Otela – Jack of Trades
"Would you mind assisting Neria with this task, Mister Otela?"
It was one of many incredibly polite requests that General Durel had given him over the course of their journey, a constant stream of tasks that he suspected was the Jedi attempting to teach him without actually submitting him to instruction.
At the moment, he sat with the Twi'lek girl, one that pulsed with a comfortable blue light that seemed dim in comparison with the blinding blue of General Durel. At least he wasn't like the masters they passed in the temple, shining with such radiance that it forced Kurik's eyes away.
They were meditating, an activity that seemed to be all that the two did. He didn't know how the Jedi managed to be so effective across the galaxy, considering that all they seemed to do was sit around.
Between them was a stack of cards, nearly a hundred, each gently being stacked into a structure that would've been impossible without the application of some invisible hand or string. The cause of it was clear, Padawan Halai visibly sweating from the effort, her head-tails occasionally trembling with the rest of her. A full score of cards still sat at her side, untouched.
"This seems simple, General."
Durel opened his eyes and looked at the young pilot. "Far from it," he said. "My padawan is learning to use the Force without the stress and worry. Many masters would ask her to learn to lift a boulder or heavy rocks. They require a blunt force of will difficult for young learners. Instead, I ask her to account for many objects that are all too easy to move."
"And that's more difficult?"
"It's just different, requires a complexity and intuitiveness, and it seems to be effective. Padawan Halai, here, won't break a sweat when fighting an enemy, but applying the Force is a task more difficult. Yet I would like you to see what you can do."
"To what end, Master Jedi?"
"Surely you've noticed that when you're more calm and centered, when that gentle thrum of power is near, that you fly and fight better. Perhaps you'll never be a Jedi, but that doesn't mean that the occasional tip or trick can't help."
A convincing argument, and he sat down once again.
Meditation was something that came rather easily to the Miralukan, who had long found it simple to shut away the noises of the world. With his sight already working through the Force, all that was required was that he relax and allow the world to fade away.
It was a strange feeling, reaching out to the Force. Now that he was with General Durel, he had come to understand a lot more about his world than he'd previously known, even in so short a time. The power seemed to be all around him, a gentle hum that soothed his nerves.
Instead of him grasping for it, the power seemed to come for him, wrapping around him and enveloping him in its own aura.
Kurik reached out to the cards, not with his hands, but with the silent will for the power to do it for him. One by one, he joined the padawan in building the rest of the structure, each card requiring little effort to place but the tower forcing him to use an inordinate amount of that power to maintain.
The last card was placed atop the impossible tower, and Neria seemed to slowly brighten, the effort to hold together the entire structure easier now that it had been constructed. Kurik felt a similar relief, now able to focus entirely on the tower instead of splitting his attention to the cards around the room.
"Very good, the both of you." The Jedi Knight's voice was even, calming. It was strange that one so intimately familiar with special operations was so soothing a presence. "Padawan, I'm going to add one last complication to this. Please, put your new crystal on the floor."
Something small and bright emerged from her pocket, floating to the ground between the three. Kurik felt a familiar want to grab it for himself, and guilt came a moment later. They had a policy about not stealing from guests aboard their vessels, especially if those guests could kill them all with ease.
"It seems...different, Master."
"Because it's been with you long enough that it's adapted to you. I believe it's time to try to bring this crystal to its final stage and attune it to you. Until it's attuned, it will not work to its maximum potential. Go on, pour yourself into it, but don't let the tower fall."
Much in the same way that the Force had swirled around him, the padawan reached forward with the same power, wisps of it wrapping around the crystal in a small swirling vortex of blues. It was fascinating to watch, something that he suspected few outside the mysterious order were rarely allowed to bear witness to.
And when that small maelstrom receded, the crystal glowed with the same color and brightness as the padawan, pulsating and thrumming in a way all too peaceful.
"Excellent," General Durel said. "You learn so very quickly. One would almost think that you were just waiting to be taught properly."
"It's all natural talent, Master Durel."
"Pride, careful. Now, put all the cards back in numerical order, this time by yourself."
Kurik figured that the show was over, so he stepped away from the pair as the cards were pulled from random pieces of the tower before being stacked back up again. He figured that he might as well get back up to the helm.
As he walked, he thought about what he'd felt in there. The Jedi Master had been correct, he felt the power closer at hand, just waiting for him to reach it. He didn't know what he'd actually do with it once he had it, but he suspected he could find out with a few more lessons from General Durel.
Kurik was certain that piquing the young man's interest had been the Jedi's intention over the beginning of their journey together. Yet he'd also assured the pilot that he was too old to join the Jedi Order. He didn't know if the knight was just acting out of general altruism or if he had some other motivation.
It was always possible that he was just being straightforward. Kurik had seen a few of his same kind during his brief stay in the Jedi Temple, perhaps the general truly just wanted to help him learn a few tricks.
Kurik walked past the small team of clones, playing cards and sharing old war stories at the center of the table. Only the strangest of their number remained apart, sitting at the table and scribbling on a pad. The Bothan sat in the corner, his weapon disassembled in a dozen pieces on the floor.
A strange group, they were. The regular clones were typical enough, boasting of their feats and comparing past battles. Their captain was practically the shining example of the perfect clone trooper. But Dreamer and the Bothan seemed determined to spend their time alone.
The Miralukan contined on toward the helm, pausing momentarily when he heard conversation down their living quarters. He was momentarily confused about who else would be inside until he heard the voice of the ship's captain and saw the Devaronian in his room.
"I don't care," Dilt said, gloved hand gesturing wildly as he talked over his communicator. "It was thirty for the entire shipment, you can't just hold out on me because one piece of fifty-thousand got lost along the w—Did I steal it? What use would I have for Arkaanian tech? Nobody even uses those weapons anymore."
Dilt's hand reached down to rest atop the powerful heavy blaster at his hip, and Kurik had to stifle a smile. He continued on to the helm.
His short journey was expedited even further by the shrill shrieking of alarms from the front, and he dashed to the controls to find something blocking them from their jump. Before they could collide with whatever was ahead, he pulled down the lever to ease them out of hyperspace.
"What's going on up here?" Dilt asked.
"Something's blocking us," Kurik said. "I'm gonna guide us around it and continue on our route."
"No," General Durel said, easing into the small room with his padawan behind him. "No, you won't. Prepare your weapons, we're about to find ourselves in a fight."
The pilot didn't ask twice, and Dilt didn't countermand him. They'd seen enough of the Jedi to know that they should take him at his word.
When they dropped out, they found a small fleet awaiting them, a pair of starcruisers and his sensors telling him that there were also a half-dozen starfighters in the space with them.
"Get us across, kid!" Dilt shouted.
Kurik wasted no time, pushing the ship to its full speed and balancing the deflector shields. They shot toward the enemy vessels, who seemed surprise to see the ship charging straight at them. But they weren't the pilot's first group of pirates.
Kurik guided the vessel across the top of the first starcruiser, swinging down on the other side and blasting apart an appropriated Y-Wing that attempted to stop them. Then they were clear on to the next vessel, who remained in the way of their flight path.
"That was a Republic bomber," Dilt said. "What are they doing with one of those?"
"Yes, pirates have been getting their hands on our vessels with an irritating frequency," General Durel said. "We don't know how, and worst of all, they never seem to be unaccounted for."
"What?" Corporal Gebb-Ti asked. "Don't the shipyards have an inventory list?"
"They do, and again, all the ships these corporations build for us seem to be accounted for."
"Another buyer?"
"I doubt it. Pirates don't just buy ships, and they usually don't keep so close to Republic space."
"Maybe the Separatists have emboldened them," Dilt muttered. "Alright, kid, we got another one. Get us past, and we're free to go."
He was able to skim right over its slim surface, this starcruiser thankfully nowhere near as large as the lost. Dodging incoming fire was easy enough, especially as the cruiser wasn't trying to blast them out of the void. After all, the ship was worth more to them damaged instead of destroyed.
This time, though, he wasn't able to pass the vessel and to freedom. Something tugged on their vessel—weak at first, then strong enough to throw everybody in the cockpit forward when it stopped them mid-flight.
"Tractor beam," Dilt said. "Dammit. Alright, we've got some spaces that you can hide in. If we're lucky, they'll pass by and—"
"I don't anticipate a need to hide," General Durel said. "You have two Jedi and a team of clones."
"Uh...If you say so. Kid, how about you, you hiding?"
"No, but I don't think I'll mind staying behind everyone else."
"Well then, I suppose you'll need someone to stay behind to guard the ship."
"Yes, as a matter of fact," General Durel said. "I would prefer we not destroy your ship in the course of this mission."
"As would I."
The group rushed to the ship's entrance, gathering the clones to them on the way. The corridor they found themselves in was narrow, with only one way in or out. A choke point, and it was intentionally designed as such.
The clones stacked up around the corridor, behind crates that had been dragged out onto the floor. The Jedi stood at their head, out of their direct line of fire and ready for a fight, Kurik merely lingered behind a crate further back, uninterested in a firefight.
A bright light suddenly flared to life at the corner of their door, and it slowly traced across the edge. Knight Durel and Padawan Neria both switched on their lightsabers, three blades between them that blazed green and blue as they stood tall in the center of the corridor.
They were ready, and Maker help the poor fools that would step over the threshold first.
