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Replies:
Jedi from Rohan: isn't it? Predicting things make shadows appear around every corner :P The Jedi robes thing was fun – I'm a frenchie (currently in French immersion), so I'm always picking up the weirdest coincidences, lol. I started this series on the JC boards, but you probably recognize the title from Madonna's song "Die Another Day", which I so fortunately stumbled upon while I was resigning myself to another mediocre title ;) Hopefully I'm not too predictable. I like talking about my stories, so my readers always seem to find out too much while I'm gabbing :P
I like the dark side…it's very convenient. 'The dark side made me do it!' lol. But I also think that if everyone's left to their own morals…well, things could get really sticky, really quickly. winces Anyway, yeah, re-reading should help, if only because you know things from later. Oh, and if things don't add up, hopefully it's because I did it on purpose, for suspense things later ;) Hmm…new story, eh? Can I have a hint? :D
Ameri:
you find out who some of the spirits are in the last bit. Kyp
isn't so much in this until the next one, but "the creature thing" will
definitely be around! And yes, I do have a J/Z series called
"Always". I'll get it on here eventually – I just want to do some
re-working on it first :P
Chapter Fifteen: "A Time of Chaos and Order"
{Two Months Later}
"I am going to go insane," Jaina stated, not wasting time with pleasantries.
The corners of Garik's mouth twitched before his expression smoothed into one of concern. "Why might that be?"
She released a long, irritated groan. "Because this is impossible. Neither of us likes the other."
"I assume you are speaking of your nefarious apprentice and yourself?"
"No, I mean Blarney the Frayt Dragon and the polka-dotted pony that is
me," she snapped. At Garik's raised eyebrow, she softened. "He learns
well enough, and he managed to pick up sparring pretty well, I guess,
but we spend half of our training time just sniping at each other. It's
like me and that former psychiatrist of mine."
" 'That former
psychiatrist of yours'?" Garik repeated, smirking. "Considering your
current state of mental well-being, perhaps you should delete the
'former' part."
"Oh be quiet," she moaned. "You can tease
because you have it so easy. Lee-droy is impossible. If it's not his
nickname for me – since when have I ever been a Princess? – it's his
pranks. I would love to have a shower without worrying that
he's played with the hot/cold controls. And he still won't admit to any
admiration for the Jedi – "
"I bet that bit the Solo pride," Garik murmured.
She ignored him. If she didn't give into his desperate need for
attention, he might not be so condescending when she obviously needed a
sympathetic friend. "The day he does something nice – even
something small, like help me straighten up the training area after a
sparring session – is the day Tatooine replaces Coruscant on the social
scale."
"Well then, I suppose you know the solution."
Jaina blinked. "You mean you know already? No wonder you're the smart one…"
Garik faked a yawn. "Do let me know when you have finished listing the reasons I'm, ahem, better than you."
She threw a pillow at the screen and made a face. "Remind me to bring a
pin to pop your ego next time. Now – share your genius."
He smiled. "Thank you, Master
Solo," he murmured sweetly, eyes twinkling. "Now, as I was going to say
before your ill-timed – but of course always welcome – interruption…"
Jaina glared at him, causing his smirk to grow. "You've been holding
back on his training; that needs to stop," he said finally.
Her jaw dropped. "Not fair!" she complained. "I have too been training
him! He already knows how to meditate, levitate – small – objects,
enhance his strength through the Force and spar…albeit awkwardly."
"Outside of this conversation, and knowing the Solo/Skywalker
heritage," Garik broke into her rant, "might I suggest you throw some
healing in there for good measure?"
Jaina's countenance was miserable. "Don't even talk about healing," she sulked. "I'm horrible at it, and you know it."
"That you are," he agreed smoothly. "And that is why I suggested it.
"However," Garik continued, coming back to the original topic, "that
was not what I meant. You have trained him, yes, but he has had no
chances to put what he learned to good use. I may not be a Jedi, but I
am aware that…'adventures' – even something as simple as aiding
refugees – can strengthen relationships. The adventures of your friends
and yourself proved that. Certainly, you and your Academy friends were
very close."
"Yeah," she said flatly, her eyes becoming dead, "until one of us was laid out on a – "
"That wasn't what I meant, kriff it!" he said vehemently. "I wasn't
going to bring him into this but yes, you were close until you came
face to face with real trauma – real death – and then you,
Jaina Solo, decided to close yourself off from others. Not anyone else,
just you. But the others – they were always there, ready to support you
if you ever let them, because they were your friends and you had all
gone to Hell and back – together, until you chose to go alone. They
were ready to take you back. Why? Because you had built your friendship
and trust on something that either makes or breaks a group. You were
made by it."
Her head had dropped, and Garik couldn't see the
tears that he suspected were trailing down her face. "Jaina," he said
softly. She stirred at the sound of her name, which he rarely used. "I
don't mean to be cruel; I know…" he sighed and drew his fingers through
his hair. "I know you never forgot or got over him. I know; but
if you want to survive as a Jedi Master…and especially if you want to
save the relationship you have with Tiran…you need to. You need to let
it go. All of it." She looked up, her face streaked with tears which
fell – as always – silently.
"Both of you have so much
baggage," he went on, certain she was listening, hoping she would
understand his point. "You hold so much back because of it, and Tiran
can feel that. I don't know what it is that weighs on him so heavily –
more than just Lin-Ta's destruction – but from what you've told me I'd
guess it has to do largely with his sister. One of you has to trust the
other enough to let go, and you can't properly call yourself a Jedi
Master unless you can do what your apprentice cannot."
Jaina
stared at him, sniffling, and blindly grabbed a tissue. It didn't reach
her nose – just twisted in her fingers. "I think I'd prefer that you
were in my spot right now, Garik," she said finally, her voice filled
with fog. "I'd feel a lot better about the future of the Jedi." She
paused. "Where would you suggest I start? With the mission," she
hastened to add, and he realized that she wasn't going to accept his
advice – not yet, anyway.
He sat back slowly, hearing the
plastic squeak just a little. "Glipta is going through a time of chaos
and order," he started contemplatively. To his side, he gestured for a
screen to rise. Clicking a few buttons brought up script on the current
events on the planet. He tapped his chin without realizing it, and the
Jedi smiled faintly, comforted that Garik never really changed.
"Isn't that kind of a paradox?" she asked quietly. " 'A time of chaos and order'?"
"Yes, but I don't think you understand what 'paradox' means," he
remarked, grinning abruptly. "The Jedi Academy must not have covered
literary terms very well. 'Paradox' is when a sentence seems to cancel
itself out, but is actually true. For example: 'Jaina Solo is able to
calm herself enough to get into a meditative state.' See?"
She wiped her nose and made a face at him. "Ha-ha, very funny."
"The war is ending; people want to go home. Glipta was abandoned by a
large percentage of its population, so of course the state of said
planet is chaotic. Chaos is generally the first step into order."
Jaina groaned. "You're being philosophical now."
He paused, then smiled and nodded once, blushing faintly. "Perhaps a
little. My point is that the Glipta has beings aplenty in need of aid."
"Hardly an adventure," she commented.
Garik
snickered. "You are your father's daughter, Solo; I'm sure you'll find
several along the way. Which is why I suggested you teach Tiran
something in the line of healing."
She fell back onto her
bed. "I hate it when you run circles around me," she complained. "Why
do politicians have to do that? You know you'll win."
"I am a
diplomat, not a politician." She could hear the kilometre long smile in
his voice. "And I do it, dear one, because it bothers you."
Jaina sighed and blew her nose. "Of course."
------
"Just keep your mouth closed, and we'll be fine," Jaina told her apprentice.
He barely spared her a glance, as he was a little more preoccupied with
fighting for his composure. Jaina had, with great trepidation, allowed
him to take the controls as they pulled out of hyperspace. He was
nearly jumping out of his skin, but the last thing he wanted was for
her to know that.
"You're a horrible actor," she said bluntly, noticing the huge, crazy-man grin he tried to hide.
Tiran's excitement made for a quick surrender. "Just let me savour it."
Rolling her eyes, Jaina nevertheless couldn't help a flicker of pride
and understanding. She would never forget the first time her dad let
her take the controls. Her reminiscing was broken with a flinch. "Look
out for that – "
Tiran pulled them up and out of the way,
just in time to avoid flying right into a tree. He winced. "Uh, yeah,
okay, maybe enough savouring today…"
"Maybe," Jaina agreed, smirking.
He glared at her, then returned to concentrating on landing. They came
down with a suspicious wobble, and something shrieked quietly, but
Jaina nodded in approval. "Not too bad," she admitted
grudgingly. "You shouldn't take it down at such a sharp angle, though.
The shaking…well, even you'll learn, eventually."
Tiran tried
his best to hide his blush of pride. Compliments without an attached
insult from his master were…rare. He didn't bother to think about how
much it meant to him, that he was doing well as a Jedi, and that Jaina
would say as much. Although their relationship was slowly, grudgingly
making room for respect, neither was ready to admit that out loud,
least of all Tiran.
"Well, uh, thanks," he grunted finally.
She ignored his words. "Come on; the governor's waiting on the waiting
dais; wouldn't want to send the politicians in a tizzy." Her voice was
soaked in mockery.
He frowned, a little confused; he had next
to no experience with politicians. "They wouldn't…do anything, would
they?" he asked, slinging his bag over his shoulder.
"To
you?" She shrugged. "Oh, probably not. You're just a helpless pawn in
the big bad Jedi's nefarious – and politically incorrect – plots." She
paused and grinned over at him mischievously. "Unless, of course, their
daughters start up their chorus of hero-worship-crush sighs because of
you."
He blushed, and she laughed. It was too easy.
--------
They survived the "political" meeting with minimal fuss; it helped that
Jaina had worn her "Goddess" expression, the mockery dimmed enough to
pass their inspection. Tiran fumbled with his titles, which Jaina had
expected but not corrected. Seeing the governor and his counsellors'
stare at Tiran, aghast by his informal (or too formal) behaviour, had
made her day.
"You did that on purpose," he sulked as soon as they were alone.
Jaina looked at him innocently. "Who, me?"
He rolled his eyes, then grinned reluctantly. "Okay, so I might have slept through the protocol lesson," he admitted.
Jaina snorted at the memory. She'd been watching, waiting for him to
swallow the fly that hovered over his open mouth. "Maybe. I hope you
were awake when you learned how to pack everything into the one tent,
and then separate the room, though; it would be tricky to set it up by
myself, with just the Force to do it."
"But the Force can do anything," Tiran replied, mock-horrified. "And so can my dear, all-powerful Master!"
She glared at him and flipped her hair. "I said it would be tricky – I didn't say it was impossible. Never doubt a Goddess."
He rolled his navy eyes and muttered something about "pilot's ego".
Jaina scowled, taking it personally. "What about mechanic's prejudice?" she retorted.
Tiran raised his hands in surrender, but anger stirred in his blood.
For a second, their conversation had been normal, even comfortable. Why
did she always have to take offence? He refused to admit that his
thoughts were hypocritical.
Let it go.
The
words drifted through his mind, source unknown. Tiran obeyed them with
ill grace. If Jaina ever found out that he'd ignored what could very
well be the Force, he'd be meditating until his knees bled.
Tiran threw himself down on his newly spread bed roll; it wasn't as
comfortable as a fall onto his bed, but it made his point. "Whatever,
Princess," he muttered, his voice as close to meek as it came.
She stared at him, eyebrows meeting above her nose. Then her eyes
stormed, and she turned on her heel. Tension bit at the atmosphere.
Vaguely, Tiran felt the Princess draw the Force around her. His own
exasperation grew as he realized he and Jaina would either tear each
other apart, or be the best master/apprentice team in Jedi history. He
didn't hold much hope for the latter.
Clutching her temples, Jaina exited the tent.
-
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Author's Note:
Glipta is a planet I made up. I was originally going to send them to
Bilbringi, but when I found out more about them, I realized that it
really didn't suit my purposes. So "Glipta" was made not too far from
Myrkyr. (dun dun dun?)
-TJF