Shem had been back on Tython for a couple of months when he observed that Nofa was constantly having him try new techniques and forms. "You do not seem happy with my level of progress. Just when I think I am getting somewhere, you introduce some new element that I need to improve. Sometimes I feel like one of those old Jedi swords they used to make here on Tython. You pound and pound and pound on me. What are you trying to make?"
"The best you possible," she said, smiling. "Just like everyone else here. The difference is that your metal is the highest possible grade so you require a bit more refinement before you become the blade you need to be."
"And you know what that is?" he asked.
"Not at all," she said. "But I sense it will need to be a very, very good one. Sooo… I think you should start lifting weights to improve your strength."
That suggestion surprised him. He hated the gym. When she saw his grimace, she explained. "Fitness is not an issue for you, but everyone can be stronger. It is the next step for you."
"Yes, ma'am," he said meekly. She laughed and leaped off his shoulder to her stool.
And thus it was, the next morning he found himself in the gym, following the training regimen on his wrist-mounted mobile device. In truth, the first session was not much, but before long he would come out of the gym feeling spent and then have to jog to the training floor to begin with the sabers. It was exhausting.
His time on Tython passed more quickly than he had imagined it would when he left Julienne feeling lonely and depressed. Their connection had deepened considerably and severing it had been more traumatic than Shemric had expected. Perhaps the difference was that they had parted amicably this time; the anger and resentment of their second parting had covered some of the loss of companionship.
Admittedly, his friendship with Orosan had helped considerably while still providing a temptation to which he was not inclined to concede. There were no more blatant attempts to seduce him, but neither was there any lessoning of the insidious and continuous flirting and innuendo.
His status as a master was still in doubt as well, as some addressed him with the title, others simply used his name and some were quick to point out that he was still "just a Knight." He found that he was adaptable to all of them. Those who called him Master tended to be those who knew more of him and respected him; those who took the middle ground had no opinion and the rest disliked him for reasons of their own but really knew nothing of him personally.
His position as assistant battlemaster did nothing to help him gain more friends. At some point or other, nearly all the Jedi came to train with Master Bariim and when they did, she nearly always used Shemric to point out their flaws and help them improve. This tended to be embarrassing and the learners did not often thank the teacher for his efforts. Master Bariim increasing spoke to him as an equal and he found that her friendship was something to which he looked forward each day.
He continued to go out occasionally with Orosan to fight the Flesh Raiders and in so doing there was a marked decrease in the number of casualties they saw from the Twi'lek settlement. Shemric suspected that Master Slocum knew exactly what was happening, but chose to let it continue. How long they would escape notice was a question neither he nor Orosan chose to discuss.
Things with Orosan never quite settled down and he had to make it a point not to be alone with her. She was not at all subtle in her flirtations and unfortunately, they spent a great deal of time together between morning work with Master Slocum and lunch practice with Nofa. Despite her claim to respect his decision, she sought him out in secluded place far too often to be a coincidence. Unfortunately, whenever they snuck out to fight the Flesh Raiders, there was no way he could avoid her alone and his desire to help the Twi'leks warred with his attempts to fend off Orosan's advances.
After not going with her on several nights, she finally pinned him down for a midnight raid after she claimed the attacks were increasing again. He relented and they headed out as usual, but thankfully she was all business. They staged in their normal location and right on cue, the Flesh Raiders appeared in their normal column. They seemed to have devolved in their caution and defensive formation and he sensed Orosan's eagerness to get to business. As she was about to leap, he grabbed her arm.
"Wait," he whispered. "Something is not right. I do not like this."
She shook off his arm. "They are right in position. We need to act now." She leaped out of the tree and landed on the closest Raider's shoulder to imbalance him and slice halfway through its neck. She leaped again and impaled the next Raider that howled loudly but died nearly as quickly. A loud gonging sound went up as Orosan was engaging the next Raider and other Flesh Raiders emerged from the trees and began converging on her position.
Oh, this is going to be a mess, he thought as he waited a few moments longer for any other surprises. When their simple trap appeared to be all that was happening, he dropped to the ground quietly and rushed the back of the closest Flesh Raider. They clearly intended to create a wall of flesh to prevent anyone from escaping. This group was armed primarily with energy weapons, which was not at all normal and they were firing wildly at their hated Jedi enemy despite hitting their own kind quite often.
Shem took down two unsuspecting Raiders quickly by cutting them off at the knee and Force-shoved them sideways to make a space in the circle that he could enter. He had brought his pike that he used to swing in long arcing attacks to dismember the creatures and keep them back, but as more of them shifted fire to him, he had to pull out both of his sabers and defend himself rather than attack. Shem had hoped the distraction would bring forth Orosan but she remained out of view and he waded deeper into the mess both to make it more difficult for the outer circle to hit him with fire and because he feared she was injured.
He burst into the circle where she was fighting to see that she was down to one saber because the other arm was hanging limp. He Force-leaped to her side and shouted for her to get down. He knew they were dead unless he did something extreme and so Shem pulled at all the power he could hold and then sent it out in a hundred fine threads of lightning that lit up the night and caused those ambushers not struck to be temporally blinded.
"Come on!" he shouted and used one more blast of sheet lightning to widen the gap he had entered. He sensed her following, but slowly so he decreased his pace and carefully circled her with both sabers whirling. One more shove toppled the outermost edge of the circle and they burst through and ran for the tree line. Random shots followed them but their swiftness made other pursuit vain. Once the firing stopped, Shem went to Orosan and did a quick exam. She had laser burns in several places including her torso and shoulder and was also limping. In the midst of his exam, she let out a low sigh and collapsed.
A further examination led Shem to believe none of the wounds would be life-threatening so he lifted her over his shoulder and began walking slowly. She was not light and he was soon winded and starting to falter before they were halfway back to the speeder. He had to rest twice along the way and nearly swooned himself when he finally set her down at the speeder's bushy hiding spot. He supposed it was the use of lightning that had so completely exhausted him and it took three attempts before he could stand. He was never going to be able to steer and hold her as well so he had a dilemma; heal her enough to regain consciousness or risk her falling off in transit. He finally decided that he was not going to make it back with her as baggage, so he crawled over and touched her head.
His head ached from the effort and it seemed he could sense very little in his present state, but there was a lot of damage and it was not very hard to find. He made subtle improvements and nudged her own body to speed up the healing process, before falling back in exhaustion. He surely hoped that Orosan was going to wake up, because he could not keep his eyes open any longer and blackness took him.
Waking up in his own bed made Shem wonder if it had all been a bad dream until he tried to move. The room spun and he lay back in time to have Orosan's face come into view.
"It is a good thing that you don't have any friends but me or else more people would wonder why you have been sleeping for two days," she said cheerily. "Well, except for the Battlemaster, but I spoke to her at the first opportunity. Why are you so exhausted?"
"Saving idiots from themselves must be extra tiring," he mumbled. Her face fell for a moment and he thought she might be contrite, but an instant later she had her finger in his face and was lecturing him. "Why did you heal me instead of just taking me back to the Temple? And why were you passed out in the first place? You did not even look injured."
He gave her a sour look until she quieted down. "I had to carry your lard-butt over my shoulder for several klicks and that was after pulling your idiot-self out of a sea of Raiders."
She was unfazed. "You already called me an idiot once. You should branch out."
"Fine, imbecile," he said. "See, my brain is working better already. How about reckless, inexperienced, and downright suicidal!"
"That is better," she said, pulling up a chair. "At least you don't sound whiny anymore."
Shemric lay back and closed his eyes. Deep calming breaths were what he needed. Maybe she would think he fell asleep and go away.
"You still have not explained what you were thinking," she said. He groaned. She had not gone away.
"I suspect that it had to do with the amount of lightning I used on the Raiders," he said without opening his eyes. "Blunt use of the Force has never really been my thing. I did some training back a few months ago and it always seemed to exhaust me."
It was quiet so long that he cracked an eyelid to see that she was still sitting there watching him. He frowned and reached behind him to fold his pillow so he could sit up a bit.
"You clearly are not going to leave me alone, so you may as well say your peace," he said. "You look much better off than when I last saw you."
"Master Slocum healed me himself, but only after I promised to not go out against the Raiders anymore," she admitted. "He pronounced you as simply tired and you would need to rest. Other than that, nothing has come of it."
"Well, that is better than two fools have a right to expect," he mumbled. She did not rise to the bait. He wondered what was wrong with her. She was just staring at him. Finally, he just threw up his hands. Well, he tried to but he barely fluttered them above his sheets. "You are welcome. Just get over it. And go away, so I can go back to sleep." His stomach grumbled and he noted a tray of food. "Thanks for this." He dug in and managed to clear his entire plate and she still had not spoken.
"I don't think I have ever 'almost died' before," she said.
"You get used to it," he muttered.
She gave him a stern look that did not invite further comment. "Not only did I think I was dead, but I did not believe you could do anything about it, even were you inclined to try. You proved me wrong. I suspect you prove a lot of people wrong because you are so kriffing self-effacing and humble that no one can take you seriously." She looked at him like she expected something, but he waited her out. "Anyway, it would be ungracious of me not to thank you for everything you did. Maybe your way was the only way once the ambush started." She stood and looked at him. "Get some rest."
He shook his head. If that was her way of thanking him she clearly had never learned manners. She turned to wink at him just as she left the room. "See you later."
He shivered. Something in the way she had spoken made all his senses kick into overdrive. Had he the energy, he would have crawled out of bed and locked his door. Instead he turned off the light and shrunk down in his bedding.
Shem should not have been surprised that he found himself on the island. His exhaustion and probable psychic distress had very likely alerted Julienne that something was wrong. Her full-on Sith battle gear always seemed out of place there, so she immediately shifted them to the forest where they had often trained.
"What have you been up to Shemric?" she asked immediately. She actually looked quite concerned. He felt a slap on the head and spun to see there was no one there. "Really, Shem? You should know I can do whatever I like here? I don't need to actually smack you with my virtual hand for you to feel it."
Shem rubbed his virtual head and scowled at her. She must have thought he look silly because she laughed and that seemed out of place too while she was looking so Sith-like. Her smile faded.
"I don't do a lot of laughing in my present work, Shem," she said. "Are you well? I felt a lot of … well, something, recently."
"Just foolishness on my part," he said and explained the situation with Orosan and the Twi'leks and the Flesh Raiders.
She shook her head, but she looked fond. "Ever the compassionate one, my dear. Well, at least you are alive. I would have loved to see you blast them with lightning, though. You become more dangerous." Now the feeling of fondness was really rolling off her. Him becoming more dangerous was a reason for her to feel affection towards him. What a strange woman.
"I heard that, Shem," she said and shifted them back to the beach. They were dressed in casual clothes on their chairs but Julienne had her big sun hat. "Tell me about this new Togruta yum-yum of yours."
"Would you stop," he said. "For an obscure slang word, there are a surprising large number of people that have heard of it."
"When and with whom did that come up in conversation?" she asked.
"Orosan used it when I told her about you."
"You tell people about me?" she said in surprise. "How does that go over?"
"Well, Master Shan tries to be understanding, Orosan finds it amusing and Nofa, the Jawa battlemaster, keeps pressing me for details," he said. "That about concludes my list of friends at the Temple and I do not see the Grand Master very often."
"I sense there is more about this Orosan that you are not telling me?" asked Julienne. "Togruta are not that far off near-human for you to not find them attractive."
"Yeah, well, you might describe her as overly forward," he said.
"So you do find her attractive?" said Julienne and her tone could have been teasing or accusation.
Shemric shook his head. "Why are we talking about this when we have not seen each other for months? How did your return to Dromund Kaas go? Were you promoted?"
Her face fell and she switched back to full Sith gear sitting on a hard chair. "I do not want to talk about it, Shem." Her face was hard, so that she seemed like a different person. She must have noted his distressed look at the change and immediately soften her tone and expression. "Shem, you have to understand, I cannot be in two worlds at once. I cannot be a Sith and not appear hard and cold to you. You make me remember compassion and smiles and companionship and I cannot just turn that off and on without someone noticing. Right now I must be a Sith and finish what we have started." She reached across to him and her tender touch was at odds with her attire. "I do miss you, Shem. But our time is not now. Be very careful, Shem."
He had never really been able to note the transition between 'the dream' and dreaming and this time was no different. He awoke with a sob in the darkened room and a keen sense of loss at her departures. He was glad there was no one to see him lying in the dark, covering his face with his hands as the tears flowed.
Bariim came to see him once and Orosan every day, despite him warning her that it might not look appropriate. She laughed and said she was never really very appropriate. Whenever she left him, she made some statement that implied she owed him thanks and then would not say anything further. It began to make him uncomfortable.
Fortunately, Master Slocum put it around that he had overextended himself in a healing and was on bed rest, so his meals were brought to him and no one questioned him. He supposed it was technically true. He did not really want to tell the kind Master that he had burned up dozens of Flesh Raiders with lightning.
After he felt up to it, he had crawled out of bed on the fifth day, washed, shaved and dressed and made his way to the practice floor to see Bariim. She gave him one look and did not leap to his shoulder, but offered him her stool.
"You don't look up to martial pursuits today," she said in greeting. "What brings you to my domain?"
"I just needed to get out," he said.
"You mean hide from Orosan," she chuckled. "You know, one way to deal with her kind is to give them what they want. Sometime they stop pursuing you afterwards."
He snorted indelicately. "If you had ever met Julienne, you would understand that was not an option."
"Perhaps, someday," she said hopefully. "Anyone you fear as much as her must really be someone."
"Any new promising younglings?" he asked, changing the subject. "
She chuckled and said nothing. She was not going to be any help.
Shem did his best not to be found the next day and managed to go all the way into the afternoon before being accosted.
Orosan eventually cornered him in, of all places, the library.
"I did not know you knew where the library was," he whispered. At least there would be no shouting here. Everyone knew better than to draw the ire of Jedi Master Kehull, the near ancient Bothan who oversaw the many tomes and holocrons that had been saved from the wreck of the Temple on Coruscant.
She gave him a withering look and sat down. She did not appear uncomfortable at all, but she must have noticed his discomfort.
"I think you have been avoiding me," she began. "Now that you are up and about."
"Maybe," he admitted. "I have a sense of impending doom."
"Most men would not consider my thanks 'impending doom.'
"Most people do not have a Sith Lord looking over their shoulder," he countered. "You missed your chance; now I am aware and able to defend myself."
She looked at him like he was an idiot. "You were weak and recovering, Shem. I did not want you to pass out in the middle of the fun."
Shemric rubbed his hand over his face and vowed to himself that he would find a way to make her stop.
"So are you coming to practice this afternoon?" she asked.
"Probably not," he said. "I am going to start with a little running before I put myself back in the arena."
"Well, let me know when," she whispered cheerily, "and I will join you."
"Only if you wear something modest," he said.
She snickered. "You like staring at me."
He snorted loudly. "You do not understand men very well. Anyone would stare when you jump about half-naked."
Her face fell and she looked hurt. "So your witch has you completely under her thumb, then?"
"I would not put it that way," he said. Then he thought about it for a while. "Yeah, I guess she does. Plus, you do not want to run afoul of her. Her temper is epic."
"Well, I do not understand how she would even find out," said Orosan.
"She is a very accomplished psionic," he said. "She can do a lot of things neither you nor I understand."
"How do you know that all your affection for her is not some plant in your mind?" she asked.
He shook his head. She just did not want to understand. "My affection for her started the day I met her long before we were ever joined."
That thought clearly bothered her as well. "And if I came to your room tonight you would not open up to me?"
He shook his head and she looked angry. Maybe she would leave him alone now, he thought, but since he rather enjoyed her friendship, it was not comforting. She sniffed and got up and left.
As he had suspected, Orosan avoided him and he was lonelier than ever. After the very first meeting, he did not see Grand Master Shan again except occasionally in passing or at random times that any Jedi might have reason to see the leader of the Order. When they did meet, she would always have a quiet word with him and seem to know exactly what was happening in his life.
That changed when he had been on Tython for six months. One day when the training day was nearly complete and he had been more of a supervisor than an actual sparring combatant, the Grand Master quietly entered the training area and approached Master Bariim and Shemric as they were concluding their rounds.
"Ahh, Grand Master, welcome," said Nofa. "I am happy that you decided to accept my invitation."
Shemric looked at Master Bariim and wondered what this was about. The fact that Nofa seemed quite pleased with herself could not mean good things for Shemric.
"When the Battlemaster tells me to present myself for training then I do as I am told," said Shan.
Nofa smirked. "That is not what I said at all, Satelle."
"Well, all the years since cannot erase the urge to obey that you instilled in me many years ago as a Padawan," said Shan. "I see that Shemric is here as well. Why am I not surprised? Is this for his benefit or mine?"
"Oh, I think you both are going to find this more than a little bit enlightening," said Nofa. Shan brought her battlestaff forth from among her robes and Nofa nodded in satisfaction. "My best staff student ever, you should know, Shemric. I think the two of you shall be well matched."
"I hear the two of you are inventing new lightsaber forms," said Satelle.
Nofa smiled again. "You did well in sending him to me. He has personally improved the training of everyone who comes to my floor and made himself better in the process."
"Well I shall do my best not to embarrass myself then," she said smiling at Shemric and Nofa. Shemric shook his head. They both expected him to match his skills against the grand master of the Order?
When they squared off in the center of the space, the arena had nearly emptied and Nofa was perched on her stool not far away. After working through an initial warm-up, the grand master immediately rushed him in a spinning, kicking whirlwind backed by hammer-hard strokes and Force-power beyond anything he had ever tried to counter, except perhaps against Darth Malgus. He fell back initially and met her whirling staff with his two blades in a defense that was almost too fast for the eye to follow. When he hit the edge of the arena he instinctively pulled Force-strength from her attack and blasted it at her mid-leap so that she was sent flying backwards toward Nofa.
He need not have worried for the grand master's safety as she flowed through the air like she was meant to fly and landed like a dancer or maybe an acrobat at the end of a tumbling run. Nofa surprised him by executing a tremendous flying leap through the air to land in front of Shemric. "What was that? In all the months you have been here you have never done anything like that. I am not even sure what you did."
"I repurposed another's Force-power to my own use," he said simply as the grand master joined them. Nofa leaped up to her shoulder so that she was looking down at Shemric and he realized why she so often rode his own. From there she was looking down on him like a judge, or maybe an inventor who was trying to figure out what to do with her new toy. And then she laughed and rubbed her hands together like a child receiving a new toy. "Why have you not shown me this before?"
"It is another of those things that sets me apart from the norm, Nofa," he said and he looked up to meet her large eyes. "I have enough reasons for people not to like me or resent me without adding to the list."
"Well, that ends now, at least against Satele," said Nofa. "She was taking it easy on you for the first round but apparently," and she threw her tiny hands in the air, "she does not need to hold back."
"Do you want me to blast her with lightning while I am at it?" he asked quietly. "I can do that very easily, too."
Her large eyes narrowed as she examined him again. "No," she said shortly, with a small shake of the head. "I think that might raise too many eyebrows. Now, show me something." She leaped off Satele and ran back to hop on her stool.
"She means well for you, Shemric," said the grand master.
"I know, grand master," he said. "I just wonder what she is trying to create out of me."
"A tool," she said. "The best tool you can be."
"For what does she think I will be used, grand master?" he wondered.
She shook her head. "I cannot see that, nor can she, but I trust her instinct. And please call me Satele here. I do not need to feel any older than I already am." Nofa whistled her impatience and Satele smiled. "Even the Grand Master of the Jedi Order jumps when she says 'hop.'"
The came together again in a whirlwind of color that would have made a lovely lightshow if there was more than one spectator. Shan was like a dancer, only, the steps she spun were full of purpose and power and determination. Again and again he found himself driven back to the edge of the arena by her onslaught. It was not the power-laden attack that she had first used because he was able to occasionally use that against her, but her usage became subtle and quick and he could not break through to do anything but defend.
Come now, Shemric. You have to want it more than that. You hated losing to me. Imagine it is me; it might work out better for you.
Shemric blinked and nearly took a saber to the face before throwing up a hasty block and leaping back forcefully. The voice in his head seemed so real. When he looked at Satele, he shifted his awareness just a hair and there was Julienne smirking at him for having gotten in a good whack. Fine. Let us dance, Juju.
He rushed Satele and focused on his frustration and his loneliness and his true desire to just leave and find Julienne. Even his relationship with Orosan was just a replacement for what he truly wanted and he had to stay here until she indicated it was time. Why was it always up to her to find him?
This time, when they met, he attacked and poured all his fury into it. Oh, the grand master looked surprised for a few moments, but then she began to smile and the grand light show became even more spectacular. They stood toe to toe unmoving until he manage to connect with her left arm at the same time she swept his boots and landed him flat on his back.
She offered him a hand up and met his eyes. "What did you do there at the end? I sensed … " she stopped and stared over his shoulder for a moment, thinking, "… righteous anger, frustration, longing. Only, it fueled you instead of owning you. Is that something you have done before?"
"Julienne, she always forced me to give her the very best I had, even to the point of making me so angry that I hurt her," he said. "I did not like it but she refused to allow me to wallow in mediocrity. You had to turn the intensity all the way up if you wanted to stay ahead of her. She made me compete and face the truth that I liked to compete. At the end she made me use my anger, use all those negative emotions as fuel."
Nofa approached as he was finishing up his explanation and cocked her head, listening.
"Satele, I hope you will come more often. I have seen things from Shemric today that he has not shown in six months of my training him. No one else has the skill to hone his talent."
"A few of the masters could do it," said Shan, "but the most capable are not ... happy about one so young showing so much skill. They feel threatened. Perhaps if I train with him more often, the others will come around."
"Not likely," said Nofa. "The members of the Council will wonder whose seat he wants."
"I do not want anyone's seat!" he protested.
"To have a seat on the Council you have to want one," said Shan. "It has to be an aspiration. They assume everyone wants to be there and so if you are there then you have to protect your position."
Nofa snorted and leaped up to Shemric's shoulder. "I think we should add a little more fuel to the fire. Let us go and eat some chow in the Master's hall."
Satele actually laughed out loud at that. "Fuel to the fire, indeed. Since we have never really acknowledged Shemric in the first place then it would increase speculation further."
"We are allowed guests," said Nofa. "Let them wonder why it is that we too choose to spend the time with him."
Shemric listened to the description of politics and shook his head. He felt like a rope being tugged back and forth in a tug-of-war. He did not like the sensation. They were both looking at him expectantly.
"Are you inviting me and asking if I want to be party to your machinations?" he asked. They both looked at him in amusement. He was technically still only a Knight and to have him question the reasons of the Battle- and Grand Master of the Order showed exceptional cheek. Except, of course, that they had both been encouraging him along those very lines. "I do not really follow the politics of this place, so I do not understand what you are hoping to accomplish here, but both of you have shown me far greater kindness and attention than one small Knight deserves, so I would be remiss in not offering my cooperation."
"Such a speech," laughed Nofa.
"What if we just wish to have a pleasant conversation with you over dinner?" asked Satele.
"Then it would be my pleasure," he replied and they left the arena with Nofa perched on his shoulder. He did not even know where the Master's chow hall was located, so he had to follow their lead as they made their way through the halls. Of course, such a walk with the Grand Master and Battlemaster involved a lot of greetings and polite conversation from many Jedi. Shemric began to suspect that was part of the plan as each of them noted Shemric's presence without actually acknowledging him. They eventually made it to the Master's chow and Shemric was surprised that on the surface, it looked little different than the other place to eat at headquarters, save that the seating was more comfortable. And there turned out to be a menu. When they had ordered, Satele-he was starting to think of her that way at her insistence-began the conversation in an unexpected direction.
"So you have been spending quite as much time with Knight Orosan, I have been told," she said. "I have heard she is quite an accomplished healer but they say you have been improving her fighting skills, as well."
"I think sometimes that she and I are Nofa's little experiment in new lightsaber training techniques," said Shemric. "But, we had a bit of a dispute a while back and she has been avoiding me."
"How so?" asked Satele as Nofa's eyes narrowed.
"We argued over something personal and she did not like the answers I gave her," he admitted.
"And what of the other, the experiment in training?" asked Shan
"Well, it seems to me that the Battlemaster is trying to de-regiment some of the forms and create a more free-thinking way of approaching fighting. She uses me because I have competence in so many forms and she wants to meld them into something ... different. I think she includes Orosan because she hates regimentation and is very open to the new way of thinking."
Satele raised an eyebrow and looked at Nofa. "And you thought he was such an obedient boy and would not notice what you were up to, old teacher. Apparently, he sees more than you expect."
She sniffed. "I have not tried to hide what I was doing, though he has hit upon the reasons that I chose them for the experiment. I think it is coming along quite nicely. Are you still sending Orosan on the Sertar mission."
"I am," said Satele. "She is going as a healer, but will provide security if the hospital is attacked."
Shemric started. He had heard about the Sertar mission but had clearly not been invited. And he wondered why aloud.
"Nofa tells me that you are far too valuable to the Order as her assistant than as one member of a mission haring off across the galaxy on a wild bantha chase," said the grand master.
Nofa sniffed but did not comment.
"Many important searches were nothing but wild bantha chases up until they discovered something important," said Shan.
Their food arrived and forestalled further argument between the two masters and Shemric discovered that it was much better prepared than the normal fare available to the rest of the Order. Both women smiled as he downed his meal with relish.
"I think Shemric is considering submitting a formal application for mastery now," said Nofa. "I am not sure I will support it if it makes him fat."
Satele nearly spit out her food and other masters looked askance at them.
Under her breath Nofa muttered, "I do not think that is proper decorum for a Grand Master."
"Well, maybe I will relinquish the job and let you take it," said Satele. "Then I can go chasing banthaa myself."
"Oh, that is a laser-brained idea if I ever heard one," said Nofa. "Let us put the inmates in charge of the prison. Most of the masters had a fit when you named me battlemaster. Especially the males. The proverbial flarg would hit the fan."
"We must do what we can within the constraints of the Order," said Shan.
"When did you become the flamin' philosopher?" asked Nofa.
"About the time you decided to become a teacher," said Shan.
"True enough," mumbled Nofa and went back to her meal.
"Now, dear Nofa, we invited Shemric to eat with us and we have been arguing like old hags," said Shan. "Why not tell us a story now that you are finished with your meal."
Shemric realized he had cleared his plate and the other were barely half-finished. "Uh, what kind of story?" he asked.
"Well, I want to hear more about Julienne," said Nofa. "Having an illicit Sith yum-yum has got to be exciting for a young Jedi and I don't know much more than her name."
"Does everyone use that term?" Shemric complained.
"I do not believe I have ever heard it, but it does not seem too difficult to work out the context," said Shan and winked.
Shemric put his head in his hands.
"Oh, come on," said Nofa. "We are old ladies. Humor us with a little somethin'-."
Shemric was sure his face was as red as it could be. The others just giggled. They hardly seemed like masters of any order right then.
It was with great weariness that Shemric went to bed that night. He meditated for a time and fell into sleep, but did not dream as usual. He found himself sitting on a familiar beach with Julienne lying next to him in her chair
In an instant she disappeared and was standing above him. Well, hello lover-mine. What brings you here again so soon? I did not plan this.
I just fell asleep at the Jedi Temple! he said. You look … foreboding, he commented. Instantly the scene changed and they were sitting together at the peak of the island in fighting gear. How are we here if you did not start this?
It was probably a combination of proximity and timing, she said and removed her hood from her head. I am in the deep core on a fact-finding mission. And I was sleeping. Are you well, Shermric?
As well as can be expected without you, he said.
Oh, don't mope, she chided him. It is not very Jedi-like.
Well, I am not really much of a Jedi, depending on who you ask, he pointed out. The Grand Master appointed me the Assistant Battle Master when I returned. I rarely leave the Temple anymore.
That sounds like a promotion, said Julienne.
Maybe, he said. Shem wanted to ask a lot of questions and Julienne must have sensed it and she held up a hand.
I am happy to know that you are well and training, Shemric, I went to sleep exhausted and need to rest. Pulling me here will prevent that, she said.
Can we meet somewhere local when your mission is finished? he asked.
He had thought she would dismiss him out of hand, but she considered him for a long time. Or it seemed that way. Who could say when you were dreaming?
It is probably a bad idea but I will contact you this way if I can, she said. I may or may not be able.
That would be wonderful, he said.
Now go back to real sleep, Shemric, she said. This is probably not safe for either of us.
How so, he asked?
I cannot really explain it now, she said. Just be careful.
Something happened again and the image shifted to the bungalow and they lay together in each others' arms.
Go to sleep, Shem, she said and the dream drifted away and with it the touch of Julienne's mind.