The Replacement
Qui-Gon hadn't truly slept since the night his master died. Something completely encompassing seemed to have taken hold of him, making him somewhat numb. He didn't know exactly what to feel, having felt more emotions in the last few days that he thought he had the capacity to experience. It was a burden that he couldn't carry any more, and some how, he'd given the burden up, at least for a while. Part of him raged, knowing that that was the wrong course of action, but he didn't know what else to do. Perhaps his charge would help him with his demons.
Today was the day he was supposed to meet her. Qui-Gon had been given a data chip on her, but the information upon it was rather sketchy at best. It was proof that there was little information on those that led normal lives within the Temple. His own file must be enormous from the last few days.
The chip had given her a name, Aislinn Kieran, and her master's name was Nevan Shae. She was intelligent according to her class records, as well as adept at saber fighting. She was only three years younger than Qui-Gon. He was uneasy about the assignment, but the Council knew best. Or, if not that, knew better than he did. She had withdrawn from her usual peer group when she found out about her master's captivity about a week and a half ago. She had become increasing unreceptive and antisocial to the point that the Council had stepped in, making Qui-Gon her mentor. Unfortunately, he still felt rather inadequate.
Closing his eyes, Qui-Gon settled into the middle of his sitting room, focusing on the Force. He searched the Force for answers on his new friend, although it was irritatingly silent. Whatever he was supposed to accomplish, apparently the journey was part of the task. It was as nebulous as the stars, though. While he was provided coordinates or a map when piloting the skies, this area was unmapped. He was making it up as he went along. So, he simply mentally noted the problem for future reference.
He ventured within himself, still feeling the rolling tide of the Force. This path was thornier, his emotions still very much entangled from the death of his master. He reflected upon the pain and betrayal of his master's death, trying to release the emotion from him into the Force. However, when he tried, he felt as if he were being sheared from the emotion with a knife, and it throbbed and hurt him even more deeply than the emotion himself. It's too soon, Qui-Gon realized, as he bathed the wound with the Force. It soothed the pain, and he silently gave thanks to the Force, seeking guidance into how he could use the pain to make himself better. That was the Jedi way, to use painful experiences for wisdom and understanding of the Force itself.
The chrono in the room chimed, and Qui-Gon ended his meditation. It was time to meet Aislinn.
* * *
He was a little early as he walked into the practice arena. A small crowd of padawans sat in a rough semicircle on the floor, watching two padawans, a male and a female, spar on the mats in front of them as the teacher shouted commentary. The male was perhaps seventeen, only a hair or two shy of two meters, a dusty blond with his braid reaching halfway down his back. He moved with a sure-footed, although somewhat heavy in technique, confidence, parrying the blows the girl dealt. She was around 5.75 meters, rather tall for a girl, with raven hair and a braid even longer than her opponent's. Her face was hard as she fought him, but he scored no hits on her either. She moved much more gracefully and lightly that he did.
"Watch their feet, class. That is key to a good sparring match. If your feet don't move as they ought, then you're probably doomed from the beginning of the match." The teacher was an acquaintance of his, a newly raised Knight by the name of Mace Windu. He showed great promise in the area of diplomacy, and Qui-Gon privately held the view that it was only a matter of time before he was appointed to the Council.
The girl flipped over the boy's head, laying a brutal slash across the back of his knees before he swung all the way around. He rushed her, striking quickly though not without planning. She parried most of the blows but earned a burn in her tunic across the lower part of her rib cage for her pains. "Notice how they are focused. They never break concentration or strike without thinking and planning first," Windu intoned.
The male padawan lunged toward the girl, and she neatly stepped out of range onto to be caught as the move appeared to be a fake. He scored another hit to match his first, but he misstepped, almost tripping. She took advantage of his slip, caused by a wrinkle in the mat. Deactivating her saber, she shoved him with the hilt, causing him to heave backwards, tripping over her planted foot. He was on the floor in a moment, and in even less time, her saber was reactivated and humming near his ear. "Kill point, Aislinn. Well fought, both you and Aidan." He went on to explain the fault in Aidan's step and the cunning in Aislinn's move afterwards.
Aislinn reached down and helped Aidan up, giving him a victorious grin that quickly faded. They shared a few quiet words as Mace continued to speak. Qui-Gon couldn't help but admire her move. It took both quick reflexes and a quicker mind. However, she hadn't caused him unnecessary harm nor humiliation. It was a well-executed plan. He said something to her, and she rubbed her side ruefully, emitting a chuckle that even from his distance, Qui-Gon could see never reached her eyes.
Mace Windu dismissed the class then pulled Aidan and Aislinn aside for a few quick words. They both nodded attentively until they were dismissed. Aidan headed for the showers, Mace disappeared out another door to the arena, and Qui-God was left alone with her.
Qui-Gon hadn't truly slept since the night his master died. Something completely encompassing seemed to have taken hold of him, making him somewhat numb. He didn't know exactly what to feel, having felt more emotions in the last few days that he thought he had the capacity to experience. It was a burden that he couldn't carry any more, and some how, he'd given the burden up, at least for a while. Part of him raged, knowing that that was the wrong course of action, but he didn't know what else to do. Perhaps his charge would help him with his demons.
Today was the day he was supposed to meet her. Qui-Gon had been given a data chip on her, but the information upon it was rather sketchy at best. It was proof that there was little information on those that led normal lives within the Temple. His own file must be enormous from the last few days.
The chip had given her a name, Aislinn Kieran, and her master's name was Nevan Shae. She was intelligent according to her class records, as well as adept at saber fighting. She was only three years younger than Qui-Gon. He was uneasy about the assignment, but the Council knew best. Or, if not that, knew better than he did. She had withdrawn from her usual peer group when she found out about her master's captivity about a week and a half ago. She had become increasing unreceptive and antisocial to the point that the Council had stepped in, making Qui-Gon her mentor. Unfortunately, he still felt rather inadequate.
Closing his eyes, Qui-Gon settled into the middle of his sitting room, focusing on the Force. He searched the Force for answers on his new friend, although it was irritatingly silent. Whatever he was supposed to accomplish, apparently the journey was part of the task. It was as nebulous as the stars, though. While he was provided coordinates or a map when piloting the skies, this area was unmapped. He was making it up as he went along. So, he simply mentally noted the problem for future reference.
He ventured within himself, still feeling the rolling tide of the Force. This path was thornier, his emotions still very much entangled from the death of his master. He reflected upon the pain and betrayal of his master's death, trying to release the emotion from him into the Force. However, when he tried, he felt as if he were being sheared from the emotion with a knife, and it throbbed and hurt him even more deeply than the emotion himself. It's too soon, Qui-Gon realized, as he bathed the wound with the Force. It soothed the pain, and he silently gave thanks to the Force, seeking guidance into how he could use the pain to make himself better. That was the Jedi way, to use painful experiences for wisdom and understanding of the Force itself.
The chrono in the room chimed, and Qui-Gon ended his meditation. It was time to meet Aislinn.
* * *
He was a little early as he walked into the practice arena. A small crowd of padawans sat in a rough semicircle on the floor, watching two padawans, a male and a female, spar on the mats in front of them as the teacher shouted commentary. The male was perhaps seventeen, only a hair or two shy of two meters, a dusty blond with his braid reaching halfway down his back. He moved with a sure-footed, although somewhat heavy in technique, confidence, parrying the blows the girl dealt. She was around 5.75 meters, rather tall for a girl, with raven hair and a braid even longer than her opponent's. Her face was hard as she fought him, but he scored no hits on her either. She moved much more gracefully and lightly that he did.
"Watch their feet, class. That is key to a good sparring match. If your feet don't move as they ought, then you're probably doomed from the beginning of the match." The teacher was an acquaintance of his, a newly raised Knight by the name of Mace Windu. He showed great promise in the area of diplomacy, and Qui-Gon privately held the view that it was only a matter of time before he was appointed to the Council.
The girl flipped over the boy's head, laying a brutal slash across the back of his knees before he swung all the way around. He rushed her, striking quickly though not without planning. She parried most of the blows but earned a burn in her tunic across the lower part of her rib cage for her pains. "Notice how they are focused. They never break concentration or strike without thinking and planning first," Windu intoned.
The male padawan lunged toward the girl, and she neatly stepped out of range onto to be caught as the move appeared to be a fake. He scored another hit to match his first, but he misstepped, almost tripping. She took advantage of his slip, caused by a wrinkle in the mat. Deactivating her saber, she shoved him with the hilt, causing him to heave backwards, tripping over her planted foot. He was on the floor in a moment, and in even less time, her saber was reactivated and humming near his ear. "Kill point, Aislinn. Well fought, both you and Aidan." He went on to explain the fault in Aidan's step and the cunning in Aislinn's move afterwards.
Aislinn reached down and helped Aidan up, giving him a victorious grin that quickly faded. They shared a few quiet words as Mace continued to speak. Qui-Gon couldn't help but admire her move. It took both quick reflexes and a quicker mind. However, she hadn't caused him unnecessary harm nor humiliation. It was a well-executed plan. He said something to her, and she rubbed her side ruefully, emitting a chuckle that even from his distance, Qui-Gon could see never reached her eyes.
Mace Windu dismissed the class then pulled Aidan and Aislinn aside for a few quick words. They both nodded attentively until they were dismissed. Aidan headed for the showers, Mace disappeared out another door to the arena, and Qui-God was left alone with her.