A/N: Sing it with me now, class... "I don't own Star Wars, I'm not a Jedi, Lightsabers don't exist... and Duncan's not a Dead-eye!" Okay, that was bad. I'll admit it. But remember... if you love me you will leave me a review!! -bats eyelashes flirtatiously-


Chapter Fourteen: Distracted


Trisana looked up and smiled with relief to see Eliatra and Orion approaching their usual corner table together that evening at supper. Eliatra hadn't told her what their fight had been about the day before, but any tension between the two usually close friends was unpleasant for Tris, who hated taking sides. The source of their argument seemed to have dissipated, however, because they both seemed as good-natured as usual when they reached the table and seated themselves beside Tris, then started dishing up from the array of food laid out on the table. She raised her eyebrows at them as Orion dug into his meal with gusto and Eliatra smiled a greeting. "Was it true what I heard today? You two are going to a coronation on Naboo?" Rumors tended to spread rapidly in the small academy, and her two friends hadn't been at lunch to substantiate what was going around.

Eliatra glanced over at her in surprise. "You've heard already? I haven't told anyone…"

Trisana shrugged. "I overheard Senna going on about it to Janaya and Zhirrith in our Blaster Defense class today. I thought I would have heard it from you first, though…" She tried to hide the hurt in her voice.

Orion looked up a little guiltily. "Sorry. Silven was bothering me about going to some function at the Matale's next month with her, and I guess it just kinda… slipped out that I'd be on Naboo during the party. I wouldn't have gone anyway," he added hastily when Eliatra shot him a cross look.

"It's okay," Tris shrugged again. "So are you going to tell me about it? When do you leave? What are you going to do? And why aren't I invited too?"

Eliatra laughed. "They would have had Master Varian go, but apparently they know him too well on Naboo. Sorry, Tris… better luck next time."

"We'll bring you a souvenir, though," Orion said with a grin. "How 'bout a nice swamp toad?"

"No, thanks!" Tris exclaimed, wrinkling her nose.

"Anyway," Eliatra continued, rolling her eyes at Orion's remark, "Since the old Queen is stepping down, they're crowning a new one in a few weeks…"

By the time Eliatra finished explaining, the padawans had nearly finished their meal and Orion was starting in on Eliatra's leftovers with his usual zeal. "Master approaching at six o'clock," he muttered suddenly into her ear. Eliatra was about to ask who it was when Master Austrina's slim hand touched her shoulder.

"I want to see you two after dinner for dress fittings," she said when Eli turned to look up at her. "You, too," she added to Orion when he turned away dismissively.

He stopped short and looked back at her. "Me, too? Why? You're not getting me into a dress," he said suspiciously.

Austrina chuckled. "No dresses for you, I promise. But you can't go to the coronation in your tunic… the Theed Vogue Monthly informs me that they're several years out of style."

"But why?" he whined as Tris snickered. "No one will see it under my cloak. Besides, aren't we just guards?"

Austrina put her hands on her hips. "You're going to get fitted for dress robes whether you want to or not. I want to see you and Eli after dinner at the tailor's, no exceptions." She turned and started walking back toward the entrance to the dining hall.

Orion sighed resignedly and turned to stare at Eli. "And I thought Master Varian was bad!"

Eli punched him in the arm. "She's only like that to you." She grinned and waggled her eyebrows at him. "Are we going to discover your secret fear of wearing anything resembling fashionable clothes?"

He grinned back at her. "Not if I can help it!" He snatched a handful of steamed legumes from the bowl on the table and tossed them at the girls, then swung his legs over the bench and dashed out of the hall. Eliatra and Trisana yelped and sprinted after him, bits of the green vegetables flying off of them while the rest of the dining hall's occupants looked on in amusement.

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The next week flew by in a rush of dress fittings, packing, preparation for the trip to Naboo, more fittings, and training crammed in where there was time. There was some confusion and stress among the masters when the slightly derelict freighter they were supposed to have taken inexplicably turned up with a damaged navigational computer that, instead of providing a map of known hyperspace routes, stubbornly refused to offer anything but directions to an impressive number of cantinas on Coruscant. Orion only gave Eliatra his best innocent look when she accused him of being behind the incident; however, no one complained when the Naboo mission was re-assigned a newer and much more comfortable—not to mention better maintained—freighter for transportation. "It's about time that old junker's wiring went haywire, anyway," Khvee muttered after finding out about the old freighter, missing Orion's sidelong smug look at Eliatra and her rolling her eyes skyward in response.

It was early afternoon a few days after the incident that Eliatra was standing on a low stool in the tailor's quarters, trying to ignore the growing cramp in her left calf from standing still for so long and the stubbornly persistent itch on her right knee that she couldn't scratch. She compensated by carefully shifting her weight to her other foot, slowly raised her hand to brush a strand of hair from her face, and—sneezed. "Hold still!" Austrina, kneeling by her feet, mumbled through a mouthful of pins. The enclave's resident tailor, who ordinarily would have overseen the altering of the deep crimson gown Eliatra would wear to Naboo, had unexpectedly gone on sick leave the week before, leaving Austrina on her own as far as formal dress was concerned. Fortunately, Eliatra's Master was far more adept at dress fitting than she was at droid repair, and had been able to adjust the secondhand—though resplendent—gown to a perfect fit, and Eliatra, who had never worn a dress before, was extremely pleased with the results.

"Sorry," she apologized while standing as still as she could. Austrina was nearly finished with fitting the dress, now only pinning up the bottom of the skirt. Apparently its last wearer had been significantly taller than Eliatra, making the skirt long enough to trip on if left unaltered. This part of the fitting process was the most tiring to Eliatra, though, who was beginning to long for her more comfortable—if plainer—Jedi tunic. In an effort to stifle her growing boredom, she glanced over at her reflection in the tall mirror opposite her and wondered if she would fit in well enough at the coronation. The gown certainly seemed to transform her from a simple padawan to someone almost, well, princess like. The vibrant crimson of the figure-hugging sleeveless gown was graced at the top by tiny, sparkling gold spirals and vine-like curls of embroidery that twined in a narrow pattern from the top of the gown down the center of the dress, then curled around a similar, but bolder pattern of black embroidered tendrils that seemed to grow from around the bottom of the full, floor-length skirt, each color contrasting with the almost-metallic fabric of the dress. Loose, sheer fabric in a similarly rich red draped around her upper arms, somehow attaching to the top of the dress beneath her arms, and gracefully rippled down her forearms before belling out around her hands and coming to an elegant point that faded from crimson to black. Austrina, who had designed and made the impromptu sleeves herself and attached them only a few days earlier, had informed her that, in addition to allowing maximum movement of her arms, their loose, flowing design would easily conceal both a small dagger strapped to one arm and a special sheath for her lightsaber on the other arm, holding them both in easy reach while allowing her to keep them unnoticed by anyone watching.

Suddenly striking on a thought, Eliatra lifted her hand to check her chronometer. 13:55…that meant that Orion should be nearly done with whatever class he'd been in this last hour, assuming he wasn't off playing a prank somewhere. She carefully turned to look at Austrina, who was now working on the back of her skirt. "Master Austrina?"

"Yes?" Austrina glanced up at her.

"Could I take a short break? You look like you could use a stretch, too," she added as her master sat up and winced when her back cracked.

Austrina waved her off, and Eliatra carefully stepped off the stool, then hurried out the door, finding she had to lift her skirt slightly. The location of the tailor's quarters on the smaller second level of the Enclave meant that she had to find her way through several corridors before going down the wide marble staircase into one of the few enclosed foyers, which would lead into the academy complex. She had just reached the top of the staircase when she spotted Orion trudging across the floor below, wiping off his sweat-dampened face with an equally damp cloak. "Orion!" she called, pausing a few steps down when she saw that he'd heard her, the gown swinging gently at her ankles. "'Rion! I need to ask you something!"

He stopped and looked up in surprise at her voice, then took a step back and stared at her. "Why…what…you…" he stuttered, his eyes wide and his mouth gaping slightly as he grasped for words.

Eliatra grinned and glanced down at the gown, remembering that he hadn't seen her wear it before. There wasn't much that could stun Orion into speechlessness. "It's for the coronation on Naboo, remember? So we can blend in? It's secondhand-" she plucked at the fabric of the bodice, which hugged her curves perfectly, "-but Master Austrina is amazing at fitting. So anyway…" She trailed off, eyeing Orion staring agape at her, and wondered if perhaps the gown didn't fit quite as well as she'd thought it did.

Orion finally seemed to pull himself together and found his voice, looking only slightly sheepish. "What did you need to ask me?" he called up to her.

"If you were too busy to have a practice spar with me later… it's not a big deal if you don't…" she finished uncertainly.

"Of course I have time! In… an hour, then, Milady?" He grinned and bowed deeply to her, sweeping off an imaginary hat as he did so.

Eliatra rolled her eyes at his theatrics but grinned back anyway, glad she would be seeing him later despite their busy schedules. "Thanks a million, 'Rion. I'll see you later… I'd better get back to Master Austrina!" He waved good-bye as she turned and started back up the stairs. That was odd, she thought as she made her way back to the tailor's rooms. She would have to ask Orion about it later.

He seemed to be back to normal when she met him for their spar later that afternoon, though…or so it seemed at first. There was no one but Orion and Master Khvee in the dueling courtyard when she left the Enclave to join them; Orion was going through stretching exercises and Master Khvee was offering suggestions. Both waved a cheerful greeting when they saw her. "I thought I would observe your technique, Eliatra," Khvee explained when she paused to bow to him. His eyes sparkled in a way reminiscent of Orion's. "Word has gotten around of your success against Master Kret's padawan."

"He was a worthy opponent," Eliatra replied at the same time Orion scoffed, "He's not as good as he pretends he is."

Khvee looked bemused. "Each swordsman has his own unique fault, Orion…as well as a unique strength. You would do better to discover your own before denouncing another's."

"Of course, Master," Orion said, momentarily humbled. He turned to Eliatra and a look she couldn't read flickered across his face before he grinned. "Are you ready?"

She grinned back at him and unclipped her saber. "Are you?"

"Always. Until the other yields?"

"I accept the terms." She barely paused before leaping forward, her saber still deactivated, tumbled when she heard his blade spring to life, and rolled to her feet with her lightsaber suddenly alive in a brilliant blue and swiping up at his chest. He stumbled back, caught off guard, and barely blocked her attack. She let her momentum continue to carry her forward and hit him with a series of flurried blows that forced him to keep stepping back. "What's the matter with you?" She yelled over the sound of clashing blades, more teasing than concerned. Orion was usually a much better duelist than this, more often getting the better of her unless she was constantly on her guard.

"What do you mean?" He managed a grin but seemed flustered, which was not desirable when one was fighting with lightsabers.

"C'mon, Orion, don't go easy on me now!" She swept down at his feet and just as quickly up again at his head. Barely giving him time to block those, she spun and struck his blade with a jarring blow that almost forced it from his hands, then drove forward in a powerful thrust at his belly. He yelped and danced to the side, swinging his blade to knock hers aside, and ventured an attack at her shoulder. Finally, Eliatra thought as she easily blocked the attack and swept toward the wide opening he'd left at his side. He spun his saber to parry the blow, momentarily taking one hand off the hilt, and she swiftly twisted his blade to the side, sending it flying across the courtyard. He hastily back flipped away from her before she could raise her saber to his neck and, coming up, threw out his hand to hit her with a Force wave. Suspecting he'd do something like that, she braced and created a Force shield that absorbed most of the blow. Orion took advantage of her pause and dove for his lightsaber. His eyes widened in surprise as the hilt rolled away from his fingertips just as he was about to grab it, and Eliatra grinned as it flew into her off hand. She ignited his blade and stepped forward, the combined light of the two blades casting a pale blue glow on her face.

Orion, still sitting on the tiled floor of the courtyard, threw his hands up in defeat. "I yield!" he said, relaxing visibly when Eliatra deactivated the sabers and tossed his hilt back to him.

Master Khvee's amused look had turned into one of mild reproof. "I hadn't realized how poor your dueling skills have become, Orion," he admonished while Orion brushed himself off.

"Yes, 'Rion," Eliatra said curiously. "What happened?"

"I don't know," he said, sounding somewhat bewildered. "I just…was unfocused, I guess…"

Khvee shook his head. "You'll need to keep your wits about you if you're to be of any use on Naboo. I believe it would be prudent to assign you some additional training exercises over the next few weeks." Orion groaned.

Eliatra shook her head bemusedly and turned to walk away as Master Khvee started admonishing Orion for his lackluster dueling performance. She wondered what had come over him, mentally replaying the battle. Although she couldn't deny that her own prowess with a lightsaber could be intimidating to some of her opponents, Orion—who had fought with her enough times before that they could nearly predict each other's moves—was the least likely to become panicked and lose his advantage in such a short time. There was the small possibility that he had only pretended to fight so poorly, either to let her win or to regain control of the duel by surprise, but the first option, considering that he'd challenged her in the first place, seemed laughable, and the second seemed doubtful based on the fact that, had he wanted to, he could have done something to turn the fight to his favor. Orion was nearly her equal when it came to dueling, so why had she won so easily? The only plausible explanation she could come up with was that he had somehow been distracted; but what had drawn his concentration so powerfully from the battle? It couldn't be the mission on Naboo; he seemed too confident about that to let it detract his attention during a duel. It couldn't be Eliatra herself, since they had been on good terms after having made up after their fight. It could, possibly, have had something to do with Tris, or—her heart suddenly, inexplicably, sank—one of his new 'friends.' Senna or Kayli or Silven—the ringleaders of his little fan club, whom she had never really liked but lately had come to privately loathe. But perhaps Orion didn't feel the same way.

There is no emotion. There is peace. There is no emotion. Somehow the mantra of those beginning lines of the Jedi code, recited almost daily by any Master throughout the academy, did little to sooth either her unexpectedly aching heart or the sting of tears pricking at her eyes. Furious with the unbidden emotions, she paused to lean against the cool stone wall of a hallway within the Enclave, letting its icy touch seep into her cheek. There was no reason to get all worked up, she told herself. Strong emotions, never mind something as powerful as an intimate relationship, were forbidden by an unwritten law of the Jedi. Why would she like Orion that way, anyway? The Jedi were all she needed. All she wanted. The argument was unconvincing even in her head.

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"Lightsaber, gowns, dress robes, emergency rations, padawans… padawans?" Austrina paused in checking off her mental packing list and looked around the dimly lit Enclave docking bay, her brow furrowed. As if on cue, Khvee appeared in the bay's entrance corridor with Orion and Eliatra in tow. "They were saying good-bye," he explained simply.

She nodded, eyeing them critically as though to ensure they were the actual Orion and Eliatra, and not fakes, which in Orion's case might have been true. He assured her of the opposite by surveying their freighter, the Crystal Justice, approvingly. "Much better than that old scrap heap we were supposed to take, eh?" he remarked innocently.

Austrina, who had also had her suspicions about the reprogrammed navcomp's culprit, only rolled her eyes and waved them toward the ship. "We need to head out before it gets too late. At this rate it'll be midnight before we reach Naboo, and we'll still need to meet the Princess and the Guard. Khvee, you've come up with a suitable disguise?"

Khvee waved dismissively as they started toward the boarding ramp. "I have ample time to prepare. I see no need to disguise myself until we reach Theed. No offense to your kind—" he half-smiled at Austrina, "—but I would rather remain in my own form as long as I am able to."

Just ahead of them, Eliatra and Orion made their way into the ship and toward the single bunkroom to stow their own carry-on packs. While it was larger than their former ship, the Crystal Justice could hold at the most six passengers, making it only slightly less cramped than the four-passenger "scrap heap," as Orion had described it. Seeming to strike on a thought, Orion leaned down slightly to mutter in Eli's ear. "Maybe we should've tried for something bigger," he said, eyes twinkling.

Eliatra elbowed him. "It's not like we're living in it," she whispered back as they reached the bunk room, their masters close behind. In the days since their duel, Eliatra had managed to stifle—or at least hide—the inexplicable surge of conflicting emotions over Orion that she couldn't ignore. Nothing could explain her flush of happiness whenever he grinned at her, the nervous fluttering in her stomach when he spoke, or, most unnervingly, the way her mind had gone utterly blank the day before when, during breakfast, he'd reached across the table to brush a long strand of hair away from her face. The seeming loss of control over her own willpower, her own mind, was thoroughly upsetting…though a small part of her would have been more than happy with it if only Orion would… but no. Realizing she needed to focus, Eliatra pulled herself back to the present to see him rather craftily watching Austrina, who was checking their formal clothes. She surreptitiously elbowed him again, and he shot her an injured look. "What?"

"Don't even think about it," she hissed.

He widened his eyes innocently at her. "Think about what, Eli?"

"You know what," she replied, knowing full well he wouldn't admit to anything.

He didn't disappoint her. "What, breakfast? And how we're missing it because we had to get up so early?" His stomach growled as though in agreement, making him blush slightly. "I don't understand why everyone's in such a rush to get out," he muttered. "What if we were attacked by rogue spacers and we passed out at the gun turrets from lack of food?"

"You would," she said pointedly. "Besides, didn't I see you smuggling something from dinner under your tunic last night?"

He brightened considerably. "Hey, you're right! Biscuits!" He immediately dived toward one of the closets and flung open the door, then yelped as several bags and small containers toppled out on top of him, knocking him off balance to land clumsily on his rear.

Austrina and Khvee, who had left moments before to begin preparing the ship for liftoff, burst into the bunkroom after hearing the commotion. "You couldn't wait until we were under way to start unpacking things?" Khvee demanded irritably. "Clean this up and get to the communications center!"

Orion looked sheepish until they left, then turned to Eli with a rueful look as he climbed to his feet. "You had to mention food, didn't you?"

It was her turn to be indignant. "What? You were the one that brought it up!"

"I know." He grinned jokingly. "But you're cute when you're mad." With that, he stooped to begin picking up the fallen bags and boxes.

Eliatra stared in shock, wondering if she'd heard him correctly. Cute? She was about to say something—though she wasn't sure what—when Khvee's voice crackled over the ship's intercom while the bass rumble of the freighter's engines thrummed. "Crystal Justice preparing for liftoff. Initializing primary boosters. Emergency gravitational field primed. Preparing to clear planetary gravitational field…" The entire ship hummed around them and rocked slightly as it began to clear the surface, the secondary engines roaring to life. The tremendous wash of sound was too much to be heard over, so Eliatra sat back against a bunk while Orion braced himself against the storage closet. Their mission was finally beginning.