Slayers of the Old Republic

Book I: Arrival/Endar Spire

By Michael Weyer

"You know what I heard someone say recently?" Elianne Somers was asking as she lugged the large case over her shoulder. "I heard someone say that 'Padawan' is just the fancy Jedi term for 'intern.'"

Bastila did her best to ignore her student as she led the way to their quarters. "What have I told you about hanging around disreputable establishments, Padawan?"

"What have I told you about the fact I prefer you actually using my name?" Buffy Summers asked as she followed Bastila into the room. She set the case down, letting out a huff of breath. "Damn, I forgot how much I miss Slayer strength."

Bastila did her best to subdue the sigh from her lips but enough of it got out for Buffy to fix her with a glare. "Hey, I'm sorry but it meant a lot to me to be the Slayer!"

"I know it did," Bastila said as she turned to Buffy. "I remember your reaction when your training began and you realized your abilities were…lessened."

Buffy snorted. "Lessened? Try almost non-existent! I mean, I still have some strength and agility but nowhere near what I had before!"

"But your Force connection has grown stronger," Bastila noted. "That should mean something."

Buffy shrugged and brushed the learner braid from her face. Her hair was cut short at the nape of her neck aside from that braid. She was clad in a pair of dark slacks and a light tan tunic top with boots, her typical uniform. Bastila was nearby in her own usual dress, the same one she had been wearing when Buffy had met her two years earlier.

"It just pisses me off," Buffy complained. "Maybe it was the spell or maybe it was the leap into the Hellmouth but it just isn't fair that I lose something that's a major bonus for me. Especially in a time of war!"

"Buffy," Bastila said, her tone softening. "I know you still have period of difficulty adjusting to all this. You have gone much further in the training than we had expected but there is more to being a Jedi than just the power. You must master your emotions as well."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "I've heard this before…"

"But not listened," Bastila said. "Buffy, I am trying my best, I truly am. I would much rather prefer you stay with the Temple and learn more there but they insist I bring you with me on my missions."

"I know, I know," Buffy said as she sat on the bed. "But hey, I do better learning on the job."

Bastila shook her head. "I would have hoped your sense of humor would have improved in the last few years."

"Hey, don't knock the humor! Wit can cut as well as a lightsaber!"

Bastila sighed deeply. "Padawan, please. I do not need your anger and loose feelings interfering in my own mind. I must save my strength for my battle meditation. Without it, we may be lost."

In the two years they'd spent together, Buffy had learned that, while quite intelligent and caring, Bastila was also one of the most arrogant people she'd ever met. Sure, her battle meditation was a key reason the Republic was surviving but it didn't make her the second coming. Too often, she reminded Buffy of how Wesley was when he first arrived, assuming he knew everything and that Buffy would just follow his lead.

Of course, Bastila's arrogance was partially matched by the Council. Buffy admired them for their wisdom but it had struck her that the main Council members had probably not been in any real battles for quite some time. She had fought Sith before, she knew their power and strength. Sure, she had this Force thing helping her out but it was still hard. She wondered if anyone in the Council had ever actually fought a Sith or they just went with the whole "trust in the Force" line that Bastilla seemed to swallow completely.

She felt her teacher's hard stare and winced. "Broadcast those too loud, didn't I?"

"Yes," Bastila coolly said.

Buffy rubbed her neck. "I still have to control my thoughts."

"You have been resistant to reading other people, I have noticed."

"I, ah, had a bad experience with mind-reading once," Buffy said with a wince. "I guess I'm better at feeling people out."

"You have shown great promise there," Bastila acknowledged. "Which is one key reason I need you with me for this mission."

"Why? We meeting someone big?" Buffy asked.

"A contact," Bastila said. "He should already be on the ship. He has great translation skills and will be needed for an important mission for the Council."

"Which is?"

"I will explain in good time, Padawan."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "I should have seen that coming."

Bastila rose and moved to the door. "We should be coming out of hyperspace over Taris soon. I need to speak to the captain about our next stop."

Buffy narrowed her eyes. "If I didn't know better, Bastila, I'd swear you enjoyed bossing the soldiers around."

"Do not be ridiculous," the Jedi said as she headed toward the door. "And please, once again. Try to call me Master."

"Not gonna happen."

"It is tradition."

"Bastila…I'm grateful for your training and for helping me deal with all this craziness I've found myself in," Buffy said, meaning it. "But I am simply not going to call a woman my Master. It…it's icky."

Bastila sighed and shook her head before she left. Buffy lay back on the bed, brushing her braid away as she looked up to the ceiling. She closed her eyes and tried to enter a meditative state. She felt some tension within her for reasons she couldn't quite figure out yet. Perhaps it was the idea of once more going into battle.

It had taken some time for Buffy to handle the fact that this was a war and the rules she had lived by no longer applied. The first time she had killed another human, it had shook her. True, it was a Sith who was ready to slice her in half with his lightsaber but it had still effected her. Bastila had helped her deal with that guilt, to let her know that, while the Jedi preferred not to fight, they knew circumstances often left them no choice.

She had fought many times since, against Dark Jedi, Sith troops, sometimes simple smugglers and mercenaries. She had done her best to avoid killing them but sometimes…she'd had to do what needed to be done. She didn't know whether or not to be troubled by how little it was starting to effect her now.

She felt the engines hum and the ship jerk a bit as it came out of hyperspace. She felt the crew as they moved about their business, readying for a short layover at Taris. She felt…

Her eyes shot open as dozens of new thoughts and images filled her mind. Even before the ship shook, she knew what was happening. She shot to her feet and looked out the nearest viewport. She saw the sharp, dark configurations of Sith fighters zipping outside, their green bolts of cannon fire raking the Spire. Alarms began to ring as Buffy's hand reached down to her lightsaber and she took off for the door.

You think I'd have learned, there's no such thing as relaxing. Nice to know some things are universal constants.