Reflection Saga:
Part 3
Hm, tests, eh? Got a #2 pencil anybody?
Oh, and I'd just like to say this. I do NOT own Star Wars. And thank the
heavens I don't, cause if I did, it'd be a huge joke, and Yoda would
probably be purple. This is why George Lucas the All-Imaginative owns it,
not me. Also, I am making absolutely no money off of this, even though I
need it. I'm just writing this because if I didn't, I'd go insane, track
Lucas down, and demand that he write if for me. And George Lucas has done
nothing to deserve such agony. ^^'
BUT YARO IS MINE! If you take him to your fic, I will kick your original-
character-stealing buttocks with my lightsaber, got it?! Good! Now go read!
Hismonia reached behind her seat, pulling out a helmet and a small metallic ball. Holding the helmet out to Yaro, she said, "Take it, and put it on."
Obediently, Yaro slid the helmet onto his head. It blocked out all sight and smell; it was so big it covered his sharp nose. "Now what?"
"Hold out your hand again." Her voice was almost muted out by the thickness of the helmet.
Yaro did as he was told. A small, metal object was put into his open hand. Curious, he inspected it by rubbing his fingers along it, feeling its smooth and tubular shape. Not able to place what it was, he asked, "What is it?"
"My lightsaber."
Yaro jumped slightly. A lightsaber? He had a sudden recollection of Yaddle telling him how deadly a lightsaber could be when placed in the wrong hands. "What-What do I do with it, Master?"
"Activate it. There's a small button on the side; feel along its side and you'll find it."
After a few seconds of probing, Yaro did find a tiny knob on the side. He pushed it and heard a snap-hiss even through the helmet as the blade came into existence. "Now what?" He asked again.
"Now the test begins."
Suddenly, Yaro's senses screamed in his head, Left! Turn left, you're being attacked! Yaro swiveled on his left foot, gripped the lightsaber in a two-handed clutch and held it downwards, blocking a small laser fire from the round remote hanging in the air.
Higher! He raised the lightsaber over his head, hindering a second laser-fire. He repeated this almost twenty times, dodging and stopping fire repeatedly as he listened to his senses.
"Stop," Polvin Kut's voice cut through the muted helmet. Yaro turned the weapon off and pushed the helmet up over his eyes. He wished he could read his mind they could his; then he'd be able to tell if he had passed or not. Their faces were as blank as a black hole, making it unable to detect any approval or disapproval on their expressions. "How did I do?"
Hismonia smoothed her chin thoughtfully, saying, "Good, very impressive, Yaro. May I have my things back?"
"Oh! Of course!" Yaro quickly gave the helmet and lightsaber back to their owner. He was suddenly jumpy, though he didn't know why. He just wished they would tell him if he had succeeded or not.
Aurentia Zelski, a frail-looking Melodie with pale skin and deep blue robes to match her hair, chuckled softly and said in a gentle tone, "You seem to impatient, young one."
Yaro blushed slightly, realizing he was being immature. He needed to control himself better. "Sorry." Stupid, stupid! He cursed at himself mentally.
Polvin Kut looked at Yaro, his eyes full of curiosity though his face was void of any expression. For some reason, it made the hair on Yaro's neck stand on end. "This boy is rather exceptional, for someone who's never picked up a lightsaber before, or used it." He turned his gaze to Yoda and Hismonia. "I believe he should be trained."
Yoda nodded. "Have extraordinary talents, he does." But he shook his head sadly, and said, "But far too old, he is. Too old to be trained."
Yaro's shoulders slumped. Oh no...He thought dejectedly. His mind began to panic at the thought of returning to the streets, to stealing and begging just to feed him and the children he could barely care for. Just because I'm too old, they're turning me away. I can't go back out there, I just can't! His body began to tremble, and he tried with all his might to stop himself. Though the years of living homeless had toughened him, he almost felt at the verge of tears.
That was actually the reason most gangs turned him away; he was too soft and caring for the mobsters. Even with his talents and abilities, he just wasn't cruel enough to hurt other people; he couldn't bring himself to do it. To the mobs of Coruscant, he was as worthless as a droid without its wires. And now, in Yaro's terrified, young eyes, the Jedi Council he had placed his future in had turned into another mob, ready to tear his hopes and dreams to shreds in front of his eyes.
Hismonia, sensing the boy's distress, gazed sadly at him and said, "I apologize, Yaro. But you are simply too old to become a Jedi." She sounded like she really meant it, but Yaro wasn't buying it.
Though he tried his best to hide it, Yaro's voice broke the slightest bit as he said, "It's alright. Really." Turning to the door, he said, "Guess I'll go then. Nice to meet you all." The door swooshed open, and Yaro walked out into the hall with his head down. He could feel the Council's stares on his back, and quickened his pace almost to a trot.
Stupid, stupid, stupid! Yaro cursed at himself. You got to overconfident again! See what happens when you trust people?! He jumped when he heard Yaddle say excitedly, "So, who's going to train you?"
Yaro's shoulders slumped. "Nobody, that's who." He kept his eyes away from her face, ashamed.
Her voice sounded confused. "What do you mean?" Then she realized what he was saying. "Oh. Why won't the Council let you be trained?"
"Too old." Yaro rubbed one of his toenails into the floor. His face was scorching with humiliation.
"I'm sorry to hear that," Yaddle said sadly. "I had really been rooting for you, you know."
Yaro brightened just a little bit. "Yeah, I know. Thanks." He held out his hand. "Maybe we'll see each other again, someday?"
She took it, shaking it slowly. "Maybe. I hope so. Definitely."
"Great. We'll meet again, I promise." He let go of her hand, and walked inside an open elevator. As the door shut and the elevator began to descend, Yaro realized it may be a promise he wouldn't be able to keep.
*****
Yaddle sighed sadly. She had so desperately been hoping that Yaro could have been a Jedi. Besides Master Kut, she had no friends, and she had found a comfortable feeling when around the teen. His presence in the Force fascinated him; like a warm, soothing blanket wrapped tightly around her, promising to stay with her.
"Yaddle?"
The young Jedi jumped at the sound of her master's voice. "Master! Oh, I didn't sense you."
"Because your mind is not focused on here and now, my Padawan." Polvin Kut looked at the elevator. "You were thinking of the boy, Yaro."
"Yes Master," Yaddle said quietly. "I had so been hoping that Yaro would be trained and become a Jedi." Her ears drooped slightly, betraying her feelings. "I really liked him; I thought we could have trained together..."
Polvin Kut put a reassuring hand on Yaddle's shoulder. "Do not worry." His grip tightened. "Why don't you go find him, Yaddle?"
Yaddle looked up, surprised. "May I sir?" Her master nodded. She smiled, and raced to the elevator.
When the elevator had sunk out of sight, Polvin Kut smirked, and said, "I'm sure we'll be seeing him again very...very soon."
*****
"I cannot believe that I actually thought that I could be a Jedi!"
Yaro was pacing furiously in the small little area where Yaddle had found him. He kicked the bucket as hard as he could, sending it flying to smash against the wall and got a broken toenail doing so. "OW!" Hopping up and down, he blew on his smarting foot.
He sighed heavily, and looked upwards. Even with the towering buildings and zooming speeders overhead, he could make out the stars and the moons of Coruscant. They shone brightly in the sky, not really caring if Yaro's life was screwed up or not. He sighed for a second time, and flung himself on the ground. "I was so stupid..."
"Heeey, Teeny Greeny! You owe us credits!"
Yaro flinched at the sound of Zischo's voice and his stupid nickname. Zischo was the local Dug, and one of the nastiest thugs Yaro had met that side of Coruscant. Turning slowly around to face Zischo and his gang of a dozen mixed Rodians, humans, and Bothans, Yaro said as calmly as he could, "Look, Zischo, we've known each other, what? Ten, twenty years? You know that I'm gonna get those credits! Sooner or later..."
The Dug wasn't buying it. Using his legs, he grabbed hold of Yaro's neck with his feet. "Well, I want them NOW, Teeny. I lost everything on the Pod races, and I want my credits." Zischo tightened his grip, making it more than a little difficult for Yaro to breathe properly. "Where's my money, Greeny?"
"I...I don't have it, but I-"
"What!?" Zischo flung Yaro against the wall so hard the boy saw stars. "You're bug squash now, Teeny..." The gang slowly cornered their prey into a corner of trash, all grinning slyly.
Yaro chuckled nervously. "Zischo, buddy, pal! Just give me a few days, maybe a week, quite possibly a month, actually, to get those credits! I just need a little ti-"
With astonishing reflexes, the Dug hit Yaro hard on the side of his head, sending him flying a few feet into the dirt. "Oh no, not this time, Yaro," Zischo snarled as he hovered over Yaro menacingly. "No more time, no more excuses, no more Teeny Greeny. You're bug squash." He kneed Yaro in the stomach, and it took everything for Yaro not to cry out in pain and fury. A small line of blood from his bitten cheek lined his chin. He knew he couldn't win this kind of fight. Then he thought of his powers, of the Force, and using them against his attackers.
Hate, fear, anger, aggression, the Dark side are they. Go over to the Dark side, and forever will it rule your future, rung out in Yaro's head. Where had he heard that? But he had no time to think of it, when of the Rodians kicked him again, almost as hard as Zischo had. Yaro was filled with all of those things; hate, fear, anger, aggression, but he had to control it. Clear, a Jedi's mind is. Where was he coming up with these things? They faintly reminded him of the elder Jedi Master, Yoda.
Zischo snatched Yaro off of the ground and shook him violently; Yaro was sure he could feel the teeth rattling in his head. "Zischo, stop it!" He cried out, desperate to leave. His body was screaming with pain from internal bleeding and broken bones. Zischo was heavily muscled, and had a habit of using every single one against his foes. And Yaro was one of those foes.
"No way, Teeny. You're not getting out of this mess!" The Dug shook his prey even harder, then abruptly stopped. The moment he was still, Yaro started to see double along with his stars. Man, I'm gonna pass out..., He thought groggily.
"What are you doing to Yaro!?" A furious, familiar voice echoed through the cul-de-sac. Yaro turned his head to the side as best as he could with Zischo's huge foot clamped tightly around his entire neck. Yaddle stood in the alley, an enraged look upon her usually peaceful face. "Yaddle? What are you doing here?" Yaro cried out, regaining his wits. "Why'd you follow me?"
"I'll tell you later." She glanced at the gangsters. "Whose your friends?"
Zischo scoffed, and tossed Yaro into the open arms of one of his goons. "Look here! Greeny's got himself a chick!" Almost twice as tall as Yaddle, the Dug smirked cockily down at the young Jedi. "Lemme guess, they call you Mrs. Teeny Greeny! Ha!" Looking back at Yaro, he said, "You can't save your own wittle butt, so you have your woman do it for ya! You really are pathetic!" He glanced again at Yaddle, and laughed harshly again. "Sorry babe, but Yaro's mine to deal with. He owes me some serious credits, and can't pay me back. I'm just teaching him a little lesson on responsibility with his, or rather my, dough. So just move along, and I won't have to mess up your pretty face."
Yaddle smirked, and Yaro could feel an air of confidence in her. But how, how, was she going to win against a dozen street-raised gangsters with itchy trigger-fingers? He closed his eyes, but his senses were still open to the Force, and he sensed everything going on whether he liked it or not.
Suddenly, Zischo pulled out a 30-inch knife and thrust it right at Yaddle's midsection. Before Yaro could even cry out, Yaddle raised a hand, and said in a clear, firm tone, "Stop!" Yaro could feel her bending the Force to stop the blade and its owner. Only a few inches away from her face, Zischo's hand came to a complete stop. Yaddle clenched her hand slowly into a fist, and the Dug dropped his weapon to the ground.
"Zischo, she's Jedi!" one of the gangsters shrieked, apparently terrified. Zischo whirled angrily back on the mob and said, "Ain't no little girl stopping me, Jedi poodoo or no Jedi poodoo. Get her!" Zischo and four of the thugs leaped straight at Yaddle, but the young teen simply leaped out of the way, using the Force to boost her height. The group met head on. Literally.
If the situation hadn't been so serious, Yaro would have laughed out loud at the tough hooligans clutching their heads with tears streaming down their faces. Four of them ran down the alley, crying out, "We give up!"
Yaddle landed neatly a few feet away, and said, "You shouldn't pick on girls, you know." Then she crouched into a fighting stance, a very serious and determined expression on her face. She simply radiated self- confidence. "They might fight back."
Zischo snarled, and waved for all of the gangsters except the Rodian holding Yaro to rush her. But every punch and kick thrown was dodged or blocked by the small Jedi; not a single blow met her skin. Yaro decided he wanted a little action too, and bit the Rodian's fingers as hard as he could. The alien yelped in pain, and dropped his captive. Yaro scrambled out of the dirt and sprinted right into the middle of the battle. Seeing a Bothan and a two Humans attacking Yaddle from behind, he pushed at the thugs with the Force, and sent the attacker sprawling.
Yaddle turned round, spied the unconscious gangsters, and said, "Thanks."
"No problem. Just repaying a favor, that's all." Yaro placed himself back to back with Yaddle, and said cockily, "After all, it really looked like you needed my help, Ms. Greeny."
Yaddle just laughed, and kicked away a Rodian. "Maybe you don't need training after all!" She extended her hand, and shoved away three out of the group. Now, only Zischo stood.
"So," Yaro said slyly. "Do you really want to teach me a lesson, teach'?"
Obviously terrified, the Dug took off through the alley at top speed, with his remaining teammates on his tail. Yaro had a feeling he didn't owe his 'pal' any money now. Looking at Yaddle, he panted, "That was awesome, wasn't it!"
Yaddle smiled sweetly at him. "Yeah, but I had best get back to the Temple. My Master is probably worried about me by now." Her expression changed to worry. "Are you going to be alright?"
Now that the fight was over, the pain-numbing adrenaline was leaving Yaro and his body ached all over. "Yeah, yeah. I'll just go 'find' some medical supplies. I've taken care of broken bones before, trust me."
"Broken bones! Let me see." She slid the Force over his body, and his skin tickled at her touch. Everything checked out, till Yaddle checked his ribs. "Your ribs are broken, Yaro! And I think there's internal bleeding too." She grabbed his arm and started to pull him with her as she walked back towards the Temple. "You, my friend, need to see a doctor! Come on!"
Strangely hypnotized by her touch, but still in a good deal of pain, Yaro had no intention of refusing.
*****
"Please, sir, step behind the scanner." Surgical droid Three-ninebee pointed to a six-foot high panel. Yaro, now in an immensely uncomfortable hospital gown so big it piled around him and hid his feet, walked through the panel, standing right under it. Yaddle watched behind glass, and waved encouragement at him.
"Stay there for just a second, sir," the droid said in its mechanical, and rather annoying, voice. Just a second turned out to be just a minute as the scanner examined his body.
Finally, Three-ninebee said, "You have three fractured ribs, and heavy internal damage." The droid pressed few buttons, and a bed slid out from the wall. "Please, you'll need some serious rest, or you'll never properly heal, sir."
Yaro shrugged, and hopped onto the bed, getting a very sharp pain for his troubles. He looked around the immense, white room nervously. He'd never been in a hospital like this, and to be frank, he didn't trust the droids farther than he could throw them. "So, how long to I have to stay here?"
"Overnight, sir, and that's if you're lucky. I'd say it will take a good two days for you to heal. Or else, you can take the bacta treatment."
Yaro glanced at the huge, clear tank of bacta fluid, and shuddered violently. He had been in a bacta tank once, after getting caught in a big battle, and he would sooner be frozen in carbonite than do that again. "Okay, I get your point." He allowed the surgical droid to pull up the covers and slip a few pills between his lips. They had a horrible, rancid taste, but Yaro would do anything to avoid bacta immersion.
"Now, sir, please try to sleep. The pills I've given you will..." but the droids voice faded away as his eyes shut against his command and he fell into the first peaceful sleep he had had in quite a while.
*****
He awoke sometime later, still in that itchy robe. But there was an upside: no pain, anywhere. But he was extremely tired; probably just aftereffects from those pills Three-ninebee had given him. Looking around the room for a clock, he wondered how long he had been asleep. Three- ninebee had said that he'd be knocked out for almost two days. Sleep always made time fly by just like that. He hopped off of the bed, and almost screamed out in pain. Apparently Three-ninebee hadn't been lying about resting; he felt like he had jumped into a pair of power couplings while soaking wet.
A new voice sounded out in the infirmary: "Actually, a day and a half later, it is, sleepybones." Yaro was startled, and whirled to face Yoda, who was standing in the doorway with Hismonia and Polvin Kut behind him. From farther down the hall, Yaro could sense Yaddle's presence, but couldn't see her just yet.
Hismonia smiled and said, "Yaddle told us what had happened in the alley, Yaro. From her account, you were very brave and used the Force to your will quite expertly." She eyed the teen curiously, her lekku twitched energetically. "One would think you had been holding back on us during the tests."
Yaro could feel himself blushing slightly. She had hit a nerve; he had been holding back what he really knew. If he had wanted to, he could have destroyed the remote ball with the Force, by wiping it out from the inside, but he had decided against it. After all, Hismonia might have been particular with that remote.
Yoda nodded, and said, "Sensed the battle through the Force, we did. Exceptional skills, you have." He took a deep breath, and said quietly, "Be trained as a Jedi, you will."
At first, Yaro wasn't sure how to react; he wanted to run over to Yoda and hug the bejeezus out of the old Jedi, but he also wanted to sit down and cry out of pure happiness. He shook his head, regained his wits, and said, "That'd be an enormous honor, Master Yoda. Whose Padawan will I be?"
"Mine. I will train you, like I did your father."
Yaro was suddenly confused. "My-My father? He was Jedi?" Did Yoda know who he really was? Maybe that's what they had been talking about during the trials, when Adrodo Vemor had questioned Yoda about Yosho's son. The name tugged at his mind again, but he still couldn't grasp at what it meant.
Hismonia glanced downward at Yoda and said, "I suppose we should leave you two alone, Master Yoda." Looking at Yaro, she said more quietly, "Nice to see you again, Yaro." She and Polvin Kut bowed slightly and left the room, the door closing behind them.
Yoda sighed, and hobbled over to Yaro till the two were almost nose to nose. Yaro could see a savage intensity burning behind those yellow eyes, and yet there was also a deep, flowing river of peace and understanding there as well. The two combined gave a Yaro a distinct feeling of power. "When to me, Yaddle came, confused I was. Remind me of my grandson, you do, for your presences in the Force are the same." The old Jedi sighed again, and said, "Allow me to start over." Yoda straightened up, folding his wrinkled hands on his stick. "Over 400 years ago, I had a very good friend, a Jedi Master. Known each other since childhood, we had. Had a small son, he did, by an unknown woman who didn't want the child, and left my friend alone with his son."
Yoda lifted up the stick and pressed it lightly against Yaro's chest. "Named Yosho, the babe was. When Yosho was only a toddler, killed his father was. By his side I was when his Padawan brought him dying into this very room. He begged me to care for his son, because he knew he was dying. Promised this I did, and took Yosho as my adopted son and Padawan.
"A strong Jedi Master, Yosho became. Very close to him, I was. Even gave him much of my blood when seriously ill or hurt, he had become. But he was enticed by a woman, like his father before him." Yoda snorted. "Gave up the life of a Jedi he did, became one of the Lost Twenty. But many years later, born to them a son was." Yoda pressed his staff harder against Yaro's chest, the intensity in his yellow eyes now burning to full extent. "A small son, with his father's hair and a combination of the parent's eyes. All of his father's skills, he had. Yosho brought him to me, and for the child to be trained, he asked of me. And train the boy, I did, till he was almost 200."
Yoda shook his head sadly, the fire in his eyes going out, and let the cane slid from Yaro's chest to the floor. His voice was sad, mourning. "But then, when the family went to an uncharted planet with a primitive, savage people, the parents were murdered. Why? Know why, we do not.
"Never found, the young boy was." He stared at Yaro again, the flame back in his eyes, full of excitement and hope. "But after almost three years of searching, the Jedi gave up. The boy's name...was Yaro. Assumed dead, he has been, for 215 years."
Yaro eyes widened to full extent. 217 years? That's how long ago he had awoken, not knowing who or where he was. It just wasn't coincidence that he and the missing boy had the exact same name and description. And hadn't Yoda said that the child had been lost on a jungle planet? Yaro's body shivered at that horrible moment when he had awoken in the rain forest, surrounded by a pack of ferocious animals. He would have surely been killed, if his abilities hadn't exploded and killed all of the predators around him. "So...you think I'm Yaro?"
The wizened Jedi nodded. "No. I know you are Yaro. And to prove it, took a sample of your DNA, we did, and tested it." He pulled out two papers and held them out to Yaro. From what he could see, they were the exact same. Not a single letter or number different from the other.
Yoda's tired expression changed to that of happiness, the first time Yaro had seen him like that. "My grandson, Yaro, you are."
~So, there you have it! PLEASE R&R!!!
Hismonia reached behind her seat, pulling out a helmet and a small metallic ball. Holding the helmet out to Yaro, she said, "Take it, and put it on."
Obediently, Yaro slid the helmet onto his head. It blocked out all sight and smell; it was so big it covered his sharp nose. "Now what?"
"Hold out your hand again." Her voice was almost muted out by the thickness of the helmet.
Yaro did as he was told. A small, metal object was put into his open hand. Curious, he inspected it by rubbing his fingers along it, feeling its smooth and tubular shape. Not able to place what it was, he asked, "What is it?"
"My lightsaber."
Yaro jumped slightly. A lightsaber? He had a sudden recollection of Yaddle telling him how deadly a lightsaber could be when placed in the wrong hands. "What-What do I do with it, Master?"
"Activate it. There's a small button on the side; feel along its side and you'll find it."
After a few seconds of probing, Yaro did find a tiny knob on the side. He pushed it and heard a snap-hiss even through the helmet as the blade came into existence. "Now what?" He asked again.
"Now the test begins."
Suddenly, Yaro's senses screamed in his head, Left! Turn left, you're being attacked! Yaro swiveled on his left foot, gripped the lightsaber in a two-handed clutch and held it downwards, blocking a small laser fire from the round remote hanging in the air.
Higher! He raised the lightsaber over his head, hindering a second laser-fire. He repeated this almost twenty times, dodging and stopping fire repeatedly as he listened to his senses.
"Stop," Polvin Kut's voice cut through the muted helmet. Yaro turned the weapon off and pushed the helmet up over his eyes. He wished he could read his mind they could his; then he'd be able to tell if he had passed or not. Their faces were as blank as a black hole, making it unable to detect any approval or disapproval on their expressions. "How did I do?"
Hismonia smoothed her chin thoughtfully, saying, "Good, very impressive, Yaro. May I have my things back?"
"Oh! Of course!" Yaro quickly gave the helmet and lightsaber back to their owner. He was suddenly jumpy, though he didn't know why. He just wished they would tell him if he had succeeded or not.
Aurentia Zelski, a frail-looking Melodie with pale skin and deep blue robes to match her hair, chuckled softly and said in a gentle tone, "You seem to impatient, young one."
Yaro blushed slightly, realizing he was being immature. He needed to control himself better. "Sorry." Stupid, stupid! He cursed at himself mentally.
Polvin Kut looked at Yaro, his eyes full of curiosity though his face was void of any expression. For some reason, it made the hair on Yaro's neck stand on end. "This boy is rather exceptional, for someone who's never picked up a lightsaber before, or used it." He turned his gaze to Yoda and Hismonia. "I believe he should be trained."
Yoda nodded. "Have extraordinary talents, he does." But he shook his head sadly, and said, "But far too old, he is. Too old to be trained."
Yaro's shoulders slumped. Oh no...He thought dejectedly. His mind began to panic at the thought of returning to the streets, to stealing and begging just to feed him and the children he could barely care for. Just because I'm too old, they're turning me away. I can't go back out there, I just can't! His body began to tremble, and he tried with all his might to stop himself. Though the years of living homeless had toughened him, he almost felt at the verge of tears.
That was actually the reason most gangs turned him away; he was too soft and caring for the mobsters. Even with his talents and abilities, he just wasn't cruel enough to hurt other people; he couldn't bring himself to do it. To the mobs of Coruscant, he was as worthless as a droid without its wires. And now, in Yaro's terrified, young eyes, the Jedi Council he had placed his future in had turned into another mob, ready to tear his hopes and dreams to shreds in front of his eyes.
Hismonia, sensing the boy's distress, gazed sadly at him and said, "I apologize, Yaro. But you are simply too old to become a Jedi." She sounded like she really meant it, but Yaro wasn't buying it.
Though he tried his best to hide it, Yaro's voice broke the slightest bit as he said, "It's alright. Really." Turning to the door, he said, "Guess I'll go then. Nice to meet you all." The door swooshed open, and Yaro walked out into the hall with his head down. He could feel the Council's stares on his back, and quickened his pace almost to a trot.
Stupid, stupid, stupid! Yaro cursed at himself. You got to overconfident again! See what happens when you trust people?! He jumped when he heard Yaddle say excitedly, "So, who's going to train you?"
Yaro's shoulders slumped. "Nobody, that's who." He kept his eyes away from her face, ashamed.
Her voice sounded confused. "What do you mean?" Then she realized what he was saying. "Oh. Why won't the Council let you be trained?"
"Too old." Yaro rubbed one of his toenails into the floor. His face was scorching with humiliation.
"I'm sorry to hear that," Yaddle said sadly. "I had really been rooting for you, you know."
Yaro brightened just a little bit. "Yeah, I know. Thanks." He held out his hand. "Maybe we'll see each other again, someday?"
She took it, shaking it slowly. "Maybe. I hope so. Definitely."
"Great. We'll meet again, I promise." He let go of her hand, and walked inside an open elevator. As the door shut and the elevator began to descend, Yaro realized it may be a promise he wouldn't be able to keep.
*****
Yaddle sighed sadly. She had so desperately been hoping that Yaro could have been a Jedi. Besides Master Kut, she had no friends, and she had found a comfortable feeling when around the teen. His presence in the Force fascinated him; like a warm, soothing blanket wrapped tightly around her, promising to stay with her.
"Yaddle?"
The young Jedi jumped at the sound of her master's voice. "Master! Oh, I didn't sense you."
"Because your mind is not focused on here and now, my Padawan." Polvin Kut looked at the elevator. "You were thinking of the boy, Yaro."
"Yes Master," Yaddle said quietly. "I had so been hoping that Yaro would be trained and become a Jedi." Her ears drooped slightly, betraying her feelings. "I really liked him; I thought we could have trained together..."
Polvin Kut put a reassuring hand on Yaddle's shoulder. "Do not worry." His grip tightened. "Why don't you go find him, Yaddle?"
Yaddle looked up, surprised. "May I sir?" Her master nodded. She smiled, and raced to the elevator.
When the elevator had sunk out of sight, Polvin Kut smirked, and said, "I'm sure we'll be seeing him again very...very soon."
*****
"I cannot believe that I actually thought that I could be a Jedi!"
Yaro was pacing furiously in the small little area where Yaddle had found him. He kicked the bucket as hard as he could, sending it flying to smash against the wall and got a broken toenail doing so. "OW!" Hopping up and down, he blew on his smarting foot.
He sighed heavily, and looked upwards. Even with the towering buildings and zooming speeders overhead, he could make out the stars and the moons of Coruscant. They shone brightly in the sky, not really caring if Yaro's life was screwed up or not. He sighed for a second time, and flung himself on the ground. "I was so stupid..."
"Heeey, Teeny Greeny! You owe us credits!"
Yaro flinched at the sound of Zischo's voice and his stupid nickname. Zischo was the local Dug, and one of the nastiest thugs Yaro had met that side of Coruscant. Turning slowly around to face Zischo and his gang of a dozen mixed Rodians, humans, and Bothans, Yaro said as calmly as he could, "Look, Zischo, we've known each other, what? Ten, twenty years? You know that I'm gonna get those credits! Sooner or later..."
The Dug wasn't buying it. Using his legs, he grabbed hold of Yaro's neck with his feet. "Well, I want them NOW, Teeny. I lost everything on the Pod races, and I want my credits." Zischo tightened his grip, making it more than a little difficult for Yaro to breathe properly. "Where's my money, Greeny?"
"I...I don't have it, but I-"
"What!?" Zischo flung Yaro against the wall so hard the boy saw stars. "You're bug squash now, Teeny..." The gang slowly cornered their prey into a corner of trash, all grinning slyly.
Yaro chuckled nervously. "Zischo, buddy, pal! Just give me a few days, maybe a week, quite possibly a month, actually, to get those credits! I just need a little ti-"
With astonishing reflexes, the Dug hit Yaro hard on the side of his head, sending him flying a few feet into the dirt. "Oh no, not this time, Yaro," Zischo snarled as he hovered over Yaro menacingly. "No more time, no more excuses, no more Teeny Greeny. You're bug squash." He kneed Yaro in the stomach, and it took everything for Yaro not to cry out in pain and fury. A small line of blood from his bitten cheek lined his chin. He knew he couldn't win this kind of fight. Then he thought of his powers, of the Force, and using them against his attackers.
Hate, fear, anger, aggression, the Dark side are they. Go over to the Dark side, and forever will it rule your future, rung out in Yaro's head. Where had he heard that? But he had no time to think of it, when of the Rodians kicked him again, almost as hard as Zischo had. Yaro was filled with all of those things; hate, fear, anger, aggression, but he had to control it. Clear, a Jedi's mind is. Where was he coming up with these things? They faintly reminded him of the elder Jedi Master, Yoda.
Zischo snatched Yaro off of the ground and shook him violently; Yaro was sure he could feel the teeth rattling in his head. "Zischo, stop it!" He cried out, desperate to leave. His body was screaming with pain from internal bleeding and broken bones. Zischo was heavily muscled, and had a habit of using every single one against his foes. And Yaro was one of those foes.
"No way, Teeny. You're not getting out of this mess!" The Dug shook his prey even harder, then abruptly stopped. The moment he was still, Yaro started to see double along with his stars. Man, I'm gonna pass out..., He thought groggily.
"What are you doing to Yaro!?" A furious, familiar voice echoed through the cul-de-sac. Yaro turned his head to the side as best as he could with Zischo's huge foot clamped tightly around his entire neck. Yaddle stood in the alley, an enraged look upon her usually peaceful face. "Yaddle? What are you doing here?" Yaro cried out, regaining his wits. "Why'd you follow me?"
"I'll tell you later." She glanced at the gangsters. "Whose your friends?"
Zischo scoffed, and tossed Yaro into the open arms of one of his goons. "Look here! Greeny's got himself a chick!" Almost twice as tall as Yaddle, the Dug smirked cockily down at the young Jedi. "Lemme guess, they call you Mrs. Teeny Greeny! Ha!" Looking back at Yaro, he said, "You can't save your own wittle butt, so you have your woman do it for ya! You really are pathetic!" He glanced again at Yaddle, and laughed harshly again. "Sorry babe, but Yaro's mine to deal with. He owes me some serious credits, and can't pay me back. I'm just teaching him a little lesson on responsibility with his, or rather my, dough. So just move along, and I won't have to mess up your pretty face."
Yaddle smirked, and Yaro could feel an air of confidence in her. But how, how, was she going to win against a dozen street-raised gangsters with itchy trigger-fingers? He closed his eyes, but his senses were still open to the Force, and he sensed everything going on whether he liked it or not.
Suddenly, Zischo pulled out a 30-inch knife and thrust it right at Yaddle's midsection. Before Yaro could even cry out, Yaddle raised a hand, and said in a clear, firm tone, "Stop!" Yaro could feel her bending the Force to stop the blade and its owner. Only a few inches away from her face, Zischo's hand came to a complete stop. Yaddle clenched her hand slowly into a fist, and the Dug dropped his weapon to the ground.
"Zischo, she's Jedi!" one of the gangsters shrieked, apparently terrified. Zischo whirled angrily back on the mob and said, "Ain't no little girl stopping me, Jedi poodoo or no Jedi poodoo. Get her!" Zischo and four of the thugs leaped straight at Yaddle, but the young teen simply leaped out of the way, using the Force to boost her height. The group met head on. Literally.
If the situation hadn't been so serious, Yaro would have laughed out loud at the tough hooligans clutching their heads with tears streaming down their faces. Four of them ran down the alley, crying out, "We give up!"
Yaddle landed neatly a few feet away, and said, "You shouldn't pick on girls, you know." Then she crouched into a fighting stance, a very serious and determined expression on her face. She simply radiated self- confidence. "They might fight back."
Zischo snarled, and waved for all of the gangsters except the Rodian holding Yaro to rush her. But every punch and kick thrown was dodged or blocked by the small Jedi; not a single blow met her skin. Yaro decided he wanted a little action too, and bit the Rodian's fingers as hard as he could. The alien yelped in pain, and dropped his captive. Yaro scrambled out of the dirt and sprinted right into the middle of the battle. Seeing a Bothan and a two Humans attacking Yaddle from behind, he pushed at the thugs with the Force, and sent the attacker sprawling.
Yaddle turned round, spied the unconscious gangsters, and said, "Thanks."
"No problem. Just repaying a favor, that's all." Yaro placed himself back to back with Yaddle, and said cockily, "After all, it really looked like you needed my help, Ms. Greeny."
Yaddle just laughed, and kicked away a Rodian. "Maybe you don't need training after all!" She extended her hand, and shoved away three out of the group. Now, only Zischo stood.
"So," Yaro said slyly. "Do you really want to teach me a lesson, teach'?"
Obviously terrified, the Dug took off through the alley at top speed, with his remaining teammates on his tail. Yaro had a feeling he didn't owe his 'pal' any money now. Looking at Yaddle, he panted, "That was awesome, wasn't it!"
Yaddle smiled sweetly at him. "Yeah, but I had best get back to the Temple. My Master is probably worried about me by now." Her expression changed to worry. "Are you going to be alright?"
Now that the fight was over, the pain-numbing adrenaline was leaving Yaro and his body ached all over. "Yeah, yeah. I'll just go 'find' some medical supplies. I've taken care of broken bones before, trust me."
"Broken bones! Let me see." She slid the Force over his body, and his skin tickled at her touch. Everything checked out, till Yaddle checked his ribs. "Your ribs are broken, Yaro! And I think there's internal bleeding too." She grabbed his arm and started to pull him with her as she walked back towards the Temple. "You, my friend, need to see a doctor! Come on!"
Strangely hypnotized by her touch, but still in a good deal of pain, Yaro had no intention of refusing.
*****
"Please, sir, step behind the scanner." Surgical droid Three-ninebee pointed to a six-foot high panel. Yaro, now in an immensely uncomfortable hospital gown so big it piled around him and hid his feet, walked through the panel, standing right under it. Yaddle watched behind glass, and waved encouragement at him.
"Stay there for just a second, sir," the droid said in its mechanical, and rather annoying, voice. Just a second turned out to be just a minute as the scanner examined his body.
Finally, Three-ninebee said, "You have three fractured ribs, and heavy internal damage." The droid pressed few buttons, and a bed slid out from the wall. "Please, you'll need some serious rest, or you'll never properly heal, sir."
Yaro shrugged, and hopped onto the bed, getting a very sharp pain for his troubles. He looked around the immense, white room nervously. He'd never been in a hospital like this, and to be frank, he didn't trust the droids farther than he could throw them. "So, how long to I have to stay here?"
"Overnight, sir, and that's if you're lucky. I'd say it will take a good two days for you to heal. Or else, you can take the bacta treatment."
Yaro glanced at the huge, clear tank of bacta fluid, and shuddered violently. He had been in a bacta tank once, after getting caught in a big battle, and he would sooner be frozen in carbonite than do that again. "Okay, I get your point." He allowed the surgical droid to pull up the covers and slip a few pills between his lips. They had a horrible, rancid taste, but Yaro would do anything to avoid bacta immersion.
"Now, sir, please try to sleep. The pills I've given you will..." but the droids voice faded away as his eyes shut against his command and he fell into the first peaceful sleep he had had in quite a while.
*****
He awoke sometime later, still in that itchy robe. But there was an upside: no pain, anywhere. But he was extremely tired; probably just aftereffects from those pills Three-ninebee had given him. Looking around the room for a clock, he wondered how long he had been asleep. Three- ninebee had said that he'd be knocked out for almost two days. Sleep always made time fly by just like that. He hopped off of the bed, and almost screamed out in pain. Apparently Three-ninebee hadn't been lying about resting; he felt like he had jumped into a pair of power couplings while soaking wet.
A new voice sounded out in the infirmary: "Actually, a day and a half later, it is, sleepybones." Yaro was startled, and whirled to face Yoda, who was standing in the doorway with Hismonia and Polvin Kut behind him. From farther down the hall, Yaro could sense Yaddle's presence, but couldn't see her just yet.
Hismonia smiled and said, "Yaddle told us what had happened in the alley, Yaro. From her account, you were very brave and used the Force to your will quite expertly." She eyed the teen curiously, her lekku twitched energetically. "One would think you had been holding back on us during the tests."
Yaro could feel himself blushing slightly. She had hit a nerve; he had been holding back what he really knew. If he had wanted to, he could have destroyed the remote ball with the Force, by wiping it out from the inside, but he had decided against it. After all, Hismonia might have been particular with that remote.
Yoda nodded, and said, "Sensed the battle through the Force, we did. Exceptional skills, you have." He took a deep breath, and said quietly, "Be trained as a Jedi, you will."
At first, Yaro wasn't sure how to react; he wanted to run over to Yoda and hug the bejeezus out of the old Jedi, but he also wanted to sit down and cry out of pure happiness. He shook his head, regained his wits, and said, "That'd be an enormous honor, Master Yoda. Whose Padawan will I be?"
"Mine. I will train you, like I did your father."
Yaro was suddenly confused. "My-My father? He was Jedi?" Did Yoda know who he really was? Maybe that's what they had been talking about during the trials, when Adrodo Vemor had questioned Yoda about Yosho's son. The name tugged at his mind again, but he still couldn't grasp at what it meant.
Hismonia glanced downward at Yoda and said, "I suppose we should leave you two alone, Master Yoda." Looking at Yaro, she said more quietly, "Nice to see you again, Yaro." She and Polvin Kut bowed slightly and left the room, the door closing behind them.
Yoda sighed, and hobbled over to Yaro till the two were almost nose to nose. Yaro could see a savage intensity burning behind those yellow eyes, and yet there was also a deep, flowing river of peace and understanding there as well. The two combined gave a Yaro a distinct feeling of power. "When to me, Yaddle came, confused I was. Remind me of my grandson, you do, for your presences in the Force are the same." The old Jedi sighed again, and said, "Allow me to start over." Yoda straightened up, folding his wrinkled hands on his stick. "Over 400 years ago, I had a very good friend, a Jedi Master. Known each other since childhood, we had. Had a small son, he did, by an unknown woman who didn't want the child, and left my friend alone with his son."
Yoda lifted up the stick and pressed it lightly against Yaro's chest. "Named Yosho, the babe was. When Yosho was only a toddler, killed his father was. By his side I was when his Padawan brought him dying into this very room. He begged me to care for his son, because he knew he was dying. Promised this I did, and took Yosho as my adopted son and Padawan.
"A strong Jedi Master, Yosho became. Very close to him, I was. Even gave him much of my blood when seriously ill or hurt, he had become. But he was enticed by a woman, like his father before him." Yoda snorted. "Gave up the life of a Jedi he did, became one of the Lost Twenty. But many years later, born to them a son was." Yoda pressed his staff harder against Yaro's chest, the intensity in his yellow eyes now burning to full extent. "A small son, with his father's hair and a combination of the parent's eyes. All of his father's skills, he had. Yosho brought him to me, and for the child to be trained, he asked of me. And train the boy, I did, till he was almost 200."
Yoda shook his head sadly, the fire in his eyes going out, and let the cane slid from Yaro's chest to the floor. His voice was sad, mourning. "But then, when the family went to an uncharted planet with a primitive, savage people, the parents were murdered. Why? Know why, we do not.
"Never found, the young boy was." He stared at Yaro again, the flame back in his eyes, full of excitement and hope. "But after almost three years of searching, the Jedi gave up. The boy's name...was Yaro. Assumed dead, he has been, for 215 years."
Yaro eyes widened to full extent. 217 years? That's how long ago he had awoken, not knowing who or where he was. It just wasn't coincidence that he and the missing boy had the exact same name and description. And hadn't Yoda said that the child had been lost on a jungle planet? Yaro's body shivered at that horrible moment when he had awoken in the rain forest, surrounded by a pack of ferocious animals. He would have surely been killed, if his abilities hadn't exploded and killed all of the predators around him. "So...you think I'm Yaro?"
The wizened Jedi nodded. "No. I know you are Yaro. And to prove it, took a sample of your DNA, we did, and tested it." He pulled out two papers and held them out to Yaro. From what he could see, they were the exact same. Not a single letter or number different from the other.
Yoda's tired expression changed to that of happiness, the first time Yaro had seen him like that. "My grandson, Yaro, you are."
~So, there you have it! PLEASE R&R!!!