Chapter Six: Student

No matter what Jedi calming techniques she used or how hard she forced herself to breathe calmly, Angela could not stop her hands from trembling. Her examinations had been thorough and unearthed more questions than answers.

Spaarti cloning cylinders—post-Clone War make. But how was that possible? she asked herself. The ill-fated Outbound Flight project left before the Clone Wars broke out, before the Spaarti-class cloning facilities were constructed. How did such devices get on board a ship before they were even made?

The obvious answer was that the Outbound Flight ships were all fakes. Angela spent the next several hours going through any available computer logs that remained intact. She checked serial numbers on hull plates, examined residual energy signatures from the engines, anything that could be used to verify the identities of the ships. As far as she could tell, given her limited access to the project's details, she was indeed standing upon the remains of the Outbound Flight.

"But that just doesn't make any sense," she grunted in frustration.

A gentle tap on her shoulder brought her out of her reverie. Eve waved a hand at her, smiling weakly. "We should head back, Angela," she said, jerking her thumb toward the woods. "It's almost midday and I didn't bring enough food for a longer sojourn."

Angela blushed in embarrassment; she had not realized just how long they had been at the Metal Graveyard. "My apologies, Eve. Yes, let's go back. Can you find some more cables? I'm going to make sure that Atropos doesn't get any funny ideas."

They hiked back through the Lower Woodlands with Angela carrying the comatose Atropos on her back. The dark Jedi's lightsaber hung from her belt, a trophy of war. The Twi'lek was heavy, but Angela did not mind. She subtly channeled the Force into her limbs and lungs, giving her strength and endurance far beyond what a woman of her height and build would have.

She noticed Eve watching her with awe, clearly surprised by her seemingly superhuman strength. It brought a laugh out of the young Jedi. "Just one more trick of the Force," she explained, drawing an understanding nod from the girl. Angela felt this was good a time as any to broach a delicate subject. "Eve, I noticed the way you…communicate with the land and its denizens. I think you may be Force-sensitive—that you may be able to use the Force. It would account for your powers."

"Really? Does this mean I can become a Jedi?" The girl's eyes were wide with wonder, but also wary. Angela wondered why, so she stretched out with the Force, intending to read her surface thoughts. The reason for the girl's wariness was simpler than the Jedi had thought—it was just the uncertainty of learning something so abstractly new, something she did not wholly comprehend.

Angela decided to alleviate some of the girl's fears. "Maybe, maybe not. Being a Jedi requires a lot of commitment, Eve. Not everyone can handle it. You have to give up your life to help others." She felt fear radiate from the girl in waves, and this time Angela knew exactly why she felt that way: she was afraid to leave her village.

Angela smiled warmly. "But you were born and raised here, surrounded by all these people who care for you. I don't think you'd be a good Jedi in the sense that you'd travel all over the place protecting complete strangers. But maybe I can teach you how to protect your people."

"We are a close-knit people," Eve said proudly. "If anyone gets in trouble, everyone else helps them out of it. It is how we protect each other. Can a single Jedi do more than that?"

"Not alone, no. But imagine how formidable you would be, how much more you can do to help your family, if you learned some of the techniques of the Jedi."

"I will…think about it." The girl went silent after that, and they walked back to the village without another word, leaving Angela to her thoughts.

The Jedi wished she did not have to think about them.

Spaarti cloning cylinders in Outbound Flight ships…made before their time. What in all the Core Worlds is going on here? she wondered.

She continued to ponder the mystery even after their return to the village. The villagers were alarmed at the bound and comatose prisoner they brought, but Angela explained things and told of how Atropos sought her life and even threatened young Eve. The villagers were particularly incensed about the latter misdemeanor and unceremoniously tossed the unconscious dark Jedi into an abandoned mill.

Angela and Eve went back to the tower. Suddenly, the girl tugged her on sleeve. "What's wrong?" the Jedi asked.

Eve looked uncertain, almost frightened. "You kept the crystal didn't you? The holocron?" It sounded like she hoped the answer would be no.

Angela nodded. "It's in my belt pouch. I know about the curse, Eve, but I assure you, there's probably no basis in it. Holocrons are prized relics among the Jedi and Jedi Knights once piloted those ships. They are good people, so if they do show up, it won't be to kill anyone. I'm certain of that."

The girl did not look convinced, but Angela felt her trust and acquiescence in the Force. "Could I watch you work with the holocron?" Eve asked. "I think I'd like to learn how you Jedi do things."

The smile that turned Angela's lips took in her ears. "Of course. Come on, I'll show you how to operate a holocron. You're not too tired?"

The girl shook her head gaily. "Not at all."

They soon nestled themselves in Eve's room, sitting cross-legged on the stone floor opposite each other. Eve looked on in rapt attention and childlike wonder as Angela took up the crystalline cube. She turned its facets this way and that, letting the sunlight pouring through the window play against its surfaces.

Ghostly patterns danced along the walls and ceiling. Angela thought she recognized some of them. The shadowy hilt of a lightsaber, a whisking flap of brown robes, the white under-tunic of a Jedi, the blue-glow of a Jedi tutor. The knowledge stored on the holocron paraded across the stones, given an eerie, yet serene and calming, substitute for life. The effect was mesmerizing.

Angela found herself lost in the play of lore. She saw the lessons Ran Tonno-Skeve had taught her long ago, when she first started training, when she knew nothing more of the Jedi ways than any normal girl.

There were practical lessons: the use of a lightsaber, the forms of Jedi combat styles, using the Force to strengthen the body, to revitalize the self, to levitate and throw objects. She recalled mastering those techniques with ease. Ran said she had the mindset for them.

Those initial instructions evolved into more expansive lore: drawing upon the Force to move faster and strike more accurately, drawing upon the Force to bend a mind to her will, to craft illusions and to cloud perceptions, to sense the living Force and the denizens that inhabited it. She grew into a larger universe with those teachings.

There were theoretical lessons: the history of the Jedi, the purpose of the Jedi, the role of the Jedi in the galaxy. Protectors, not warriors; caretakers, not administrators. She was taught the Jedi Code, but Ran never followed its letter. Always, he taught passion—use passion like the Force, and, as with the Force, respect passion and keep it in balance with sense and moderation.

The other Jedi had disagreed with Ran, but Angela did not. She embraced her Master's personal code and made it into her own. She tried to obey its precepts, tried to prevent passion from controlling her. She liked to think she succeeded. It was her fuel, the source of her drive beyond simple duty and responsibility to the galaxy.

The holocron contained nothing of this, though. It condemned Ran's beliefs as the way to the dark side. Angela ignored those warnings. The holocron was old, contained vast amounts of information and lore, but it did not know Ran Tonno-Skeve or Angela Marshair. It had no right to judge them.

Angela turned the holocron in her hand again. The ghostly image of a long-dead Jedi Master floated above it. "I am Master Tobias Remard," the image said, the opening line of instruction. "I am the gatekeeper of this archive. I am in charge of Force techniques on the basic and intermediate levels."

Angela saw Eve's eyes widen in greater astonishment as the hologram continued to speak. From what the young Jedi had seen of the girl's village, holos were practically magic to them. Remard continued, "We shall begin instruction on the most rudimentary of Force skills—becoming aware of the Force around you."

And the lessons began.


Eve spent the remainder of the day in her room, absorbing the lessons the holocron imparted, listening rapturously to every word and explanation that came across Angela's lips. There was so much the girl had never known—the Force really was all around her, and simply knowing that made her feel a part of something grander and all-encompassing.

Though she had never been truly alone, surrounded as she was by her fellow villagers, she was suddenly aware that she was never alone on a level beyond crude consciousness. The villagers glowed in her awareness like bright balls of torchlight in the night. Fireflies and birds flittered hither and thither, glowing and singing, and Eve could find them just by sensing the signs of life around her. Everything was in her mind—rock, tree, and creature.

She gasped at the sight.

Suddenly, she was caught up in the undercurrent of a monstrous river, frightening in its intensity, grim in its power. Foundering, lost, drowning, she flailed her arms wildly, trying to break the surface, trying desperately to breathe. The churning waters of the life and the living Force closed up around her, crushed her, devoured her. Fear clawed its way into her heart.

She felt a strong hand grasp her own, squeeze tightly, and guide her to the surface. Her awareness of the universe faded away, and she was simply sitting in her room. Perspiration ran down her face and soaked her tunic. Her breaths came in hard gasps.

"Easy, easy," Angela told her soothingly, again squeezing her hand. It was her hand that had grasped Eve's. "You took quite a dive there, Eve. Let's take it one step at a time, okay?"

"What…what was that?" Eve asked breathlessly, still taken by the sheer intensity of the experience.

"You touched the living Force," the Jedi explained. "You saw the how every living thing was connected to everything else. You saw that you were just a speck in the vastness of the Force, but you also saw that even the tiniest speck is important."

"It was amazing," the girl whispered, though she knew in her heart that those simple words—any words—would never be able to describe what she had felt, would never do it justice. In a way, it was sad. But she had experienced the totality of life in an instant. She had nothing to be sad about.

"You seem to have an affinity for sensing the Force," Angela noted. "When my own Master tried to teach me these lessons, he didn't have the luxury of using a holocron as a teaching aide. But even if he did, I don't think I would have mastered the basics as quickly as you did.

"You have a gift for feeling the living Force, Eve. It may be a consequence of your journeys into the Lower Woodlands, where you were surrounded by life and energy. It may have made you especially sensitive to the ebb and flow of the Force."

Eve nodded, understanding coming into her eyes. She did not fully comprehend the Force or the Jedi, not yet, but she instinctually knew that what Angela said was true. There was a resonation in her heart when she heard the Jedi say those words, a unification of words and feelings that meant they were truth.

"It was so complex," Eve said in awe. "Everything was there, just like you said, and I could feel it all."

"It only seems complex at first," Angela said. "With training and experience, you'll see that the Force is really a very simple thing. Complex, but simple; all-encompassing, yet also localizing. You are aware of all that is and was, but your attention should be on what is before you."

"That's kind of confusing."

The Jedi laughed. "Believe me, I know where you're coming from. But if you practice, you'll see that it's true. Don't worry, you'll learn."

Eve looked at the glowing holocron in Angela's hands. "What else should I learn? What else can I do with the Force and the powers I have?"

"Well, let's see what else is on this little crystal, shall we?" The Jedi turned the cube around. Master Remard's image faded, to be replaced by another teacher. "This one I recognize," Angela said. "Jedi Master Bester, known for his specialty in illusions. A bit different than what you just did, but it follows nonetheless. You now know how to sense the Force in all things. Now you're going to learn how to use the Force on others."

Eve nodded strongly. "I'm ready to learn, Angela."

"Good."

And so it went. They spent the hours in study, Angela as teacher and Eve as learner. The inquisitive girl absorbed the lessons with surprising aptness and skill. She was not master of the rudiments by any means, save her facility with sensing the living Force, but she understood the concepts. In time, she somehow knew, she would become adept with the skills she learned. Now that she knew the basics, all she needed was practice.

The lessons continued well into the next day. Exhaustion from two days of work had taken a heavy toll on Angela, and she retired to her bed around noon. But Eve was charged with excitement and curiosity. She simply did not feel fatigue—another of those little Force techniques she had quickly skimmed over.

The Force and its vibrant energies surged through her and it felt like a rushing wave at her beck and call. Intoxicated with its power, she laughed and spun in happiness as she felt every living thing once more in her consciousness. So aware was she of the universe that she glowed with joyful disbelief—was there no limit to the power of the Force?

She lifted a chair with a thought, set it down, and then picked up a spare tunic. The cloth bounced and twirled as if alive, and she danced merrily with it, clutching at its sleeves as if holding the hands of a lover.

She made a lot of noise.

She continued her play even after the door unexpectedly opened. Her father stepped in, undoubtedly perturbed by the commotion she was making, and let out a strangled gasp of surprise.

"What sorcery is this?" he wondered aloud, shocked at the display before him.

Eve stopped her dance and turned to her father. The tunic fell lifelessly to the floor. "Papa!" she cried merrily, "Angela taught me the most wonderful things! It's beautiful, Papa—really, really beautiful. I can feel the world around me. I can make things move. I can hear, smell, and see everything. I can hear the morning sparrows singing their songs in the Upper Woodlands. I can feel the wind blowing against the trees. I can smell the flowers as they come into morning bloom. It's beautiful."

Her father's visage remained stony, hard, distant. "What is this, Eve? You are learning magic from the Jedi?"

"It isn't magic, Papa. It's the Force—and everything is in it, you included. I can feel you in my mind." She smiled winsomely. "You're very confused and you're trying to make sense out of what I'm talking about. But you know what, Papa? You don't have to. Here, take my hand. I can show you what I mean."

She felt her father's hesitation, his doubt. And something else—a sensation she never expected from her father: Fear. Of her.

"Papa?" she whispered, realization dawning on her. "Why are you afraid of me?"

When her father answered, he did so reluctantly. He sounded like he was poking at a painful old wound, one that had never fully healed. "Your mother spoke like that, shortly before you were born. I never heard her speak so before. It frightened me—it frightened us all—when she started talking about what was in our minds. She knew our secrets, knew exactly what we were thinking. We were afraid of her. Even me, her husband." The guilt in his voice hit Eve like a hammer.

"She never went out of the tower after that," he continued in low tones. "She would just sit in her room and talk more and more about the things she was feeling. The medicine woman thought she was ill of some alien poison from the Lower Woodlands. But it was not so. Somehow, I knew that she had truly been hearing the world's words, the winds' words, and the words that no villager wanted to speak aloud.

"Your mother died in childbirth, this you know. But what you do not know is what she said right before she died. She said that she told you never to be afraid. She said these things to you without ever opening her mouth, before you were even aware of what was going on around your newborn eyes."

Eve felt tears run down her cheeks. "Papa…my mother was Force-sensitive, like me." She hugged her father around his thick waist. But he did not return the hug. The knowledge of that fact made her heart cold and she gripped him harder. "It's not evil or wicked or strange for me to feel these things, Papa! Please understand that. Angela is a Jedi—she can teach me to control my powers, to use them responsibly. I won't read people's minds if they don't want me to, I promise.

"Don't you see, Papa? Don't you get it? I can walk through the Lower Woodlands as part of the forest, as a friend. The animals don't hurt me because I can feel and talk to them. It's how Angela figured out what I am. I have a gift. I can use it to help people, to heal our friends if they're hurt, to make them laugh when they're sad. I can do things no one else can, Papa. And that's a beautiful thing. It's what Jedi are supposed to do."

Her father said nothing, but his gaze grew more and more distant. He still did not return her embrace. "We will discuss this later, my daughter," he said neutrally. With that, he coolly disengaged himself from her and left the room.