Author's Notes: When doing research for this fic, I read that Twi'leks had multiple stomachs. Now, I don't know how canon this is, but it did make Aayla sound more "alien" so I went with it.
Chapter Two: The Code
Shortly, Aayla found herself standing in front of Master Fisto's apartment. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves. Tentatively, the young Jedi rang the chime.
Brilliant, Aayla, her mind reprimanded. And suppose someone spots you at Master Fisto's door this late in the evening? Can the Council rescind knighthood on the grounds of foolishness? Quickly, she looked around to make sure no clones or Kaminoan technicians were wandering the halls. Just then, she heard the door slide open. Aayla turned back to find Master Fisto clad in nothing but a towel.
"Oh!" she cried, color suddenly rising to her cheeks. "Master Fisto -- I didn't realize... I'm sorry to have disturbed you..." she stammered. "I'll... I'll just go --"
"It's alright, Aayla," Kit said with a reassuring smile, finding her embarrassment mildly amusing, "I just got out." Tilting his head to one side, his features became more serious. "Is there something wrong?"
"Nothing, Master Fisto..." she replied, trying to avert her eyes from his slick, muscled frame. "It can wait until morning."
"Nonsense, I can feel your anxiety." He turned his body slightly to grant her entrance. "Please, come in."
The young Twi'lek accepted his invitation distractedly. "Thank you, Master Fisto."
"And I thought we had agreed that you would stop calling me 'Master,'" he laughed. "I have never been comfortable with honorific titles." He gestured to the small sofa. "Have a seat. May I offer you something to drink?"
"No thank you… Kit," she replied awkwardly. The tingle in her stomachs began to grow and she fidgeted nervously.
"Very well. Now if you'll excuse me for a moment, I'll go put something on."
Aayla couldn't help but watch Kit as he walked to his bedroom, taking in the broad shoulders beneath his cluster of head tentacles and the way his muscled back tapered down in a v-shape to his trim waist and tight --
Aayla! she screamed at herself. She quickly turned away, focusing on the lamp next to her and desperately trying to find it fascinating. It was only then that she registered the scantiness of her own attire and she turned a deeper shade of red.
Oh Goddess! Just leave right now, you foolish girl.
As she was about to get up, Kit returned from his bedroom. He was dressed only slightly more modestly than before, a pair of brown linen shorts glimpsed for a second as he tied a dressing robe loosely about himself, his brawny chest still in full view.
"So Aayla, tell me what it is that's troubling you," he said, coming to sit on a small stool opposite her.
The young Jedi didn't know where to begin. What would be the best way to broach the situation without seeming like an adolescent Padawan infatuated with a fellow student? Perhaps the best way would simply be to state it as dispassionately as possible. She looked up, meeting Kit's gentle, unblinking black eyes as he awaited a response.
"I'm having difficulty calming my mind," she found herself saying instead.
"Because of what happened on the platform," he added.
"Yes, Master."
"Kit," he corrected her gently.
A little smile formed on her lips. "Kit."
Kit smiled back. It was good to see her smile; she did have a very pretty one, after all. And it also meant she was beginning to relax. He felt her anxiety lessen slightly, almost imperceptibly, but it was a start.
"I have been trying all the prescribed techniques, but my thoughts are still unruly. I cannot focus." Her smile faded, replaced by a frown.
"It was a trying ordeal, Aayla. I too, found myself dwelling on the events for longer than normal."
Aayla shifted slightly but said nothing.
Kit pursed his lips, his cranial sensors swaying slightly. Something was amiss -- he could sense she wasn't telling the entire truth. Her surface thoughts offered no insight and probing deeper without consent was improper, so Kit chose another avenue.
"In the past," he began slowly, "when I've felt greatly troubled, I've often found meditation with fellow Jedi to be rather beneficial. Perhaps if we meditated together, you would feel more at peace?" he suggested. He waved his hand to an open space of the room, waiting for her to rise off the sofa before proceeding himself to sit on the floor, assuming the classic Repose position. Finding her revealing undergarments inappropriate to mimic his pose, Aayla chose to kneel instead, sitting on her heels, her hands folded in her lap. For several long minutes, they sat there in silence, communing with the Force.
Or at least Master Fisto did.
Aayla could not concentrate any better here than in her own quarters. In fact, she found it even more difficult to do so in the presence of the male who was the source of her anxiety in the first place. She did try her best, however, remembering her lessons and trying to clear her mind of distraction. But every once in awhile she would open her eyes and peek at Kit. How can he be so calm? she wondered. Was he just more disciplined than she was? He was a master, after all.
Contrary to what Aayla was thinking, Kit was having some trouble meditating as well. Although a Jedi Master, he was still a male, and was not unaffected by the sight of the beautiful young female before him. Her skin smelled fresh and lightly scented, as if she'd just completed her evening ablutions, and her sheer robe accented the graceful lines of her body. But even as he pushed away the distracting line of thought and tried to refocus himself, his cranial sensors were picking up hints of her pheromones. The emotions they revealed in her surprised the Nautolan. Surely he must be reading them incorrectly.
"Master... Kit," she said, her soft voice finally breaking the silence. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I need to tell you something."
The Nautolan raised his head. "What is it?"
Aayla hesitated, drawing in a breath before proceeding. "It's about what happened earlier. I have not been entirely truthful in telling you why I find myself unsettled tonight." She stopped. An awkward silence filled the room for a moment.
"Yes?" he prompted, his brow furrowing.
The young Twi'lek lowered her gaze. "It's... it's just that... Oh Goddess, this is so difficult to say..." she sighed, her eyes searching the ceiling in frustration, trying to find the words that wouldn't make her seem like a complete fool.
"It's alright, Aayla," Kit reassured her once again. "Go on."
She took another deep breath and exhaled. "When you were giving me air; saving my life…" She paused.
"I… felt… something," she added in a voice that was barely a whisper.
"Ah," Kit said softly, nodding his understanding as his suspicions were confirmed. So that was why she seemed so troubled. "Well..." he began, "we cannot escape our feelings, Aayla. We are sentient beings, after all. They are only natural."
Aayla gave a mental sigh of relief, glad that Kit accepted her embarrassed admission seriously and not used it as an opportunity to tease her. "But are not Jedi supposed to be above such emotions?" she asked. "I fear my weakness does a disservice to my masters."
"Do not be overly critical of yourself, Aayla. We are trained to be in control of our emotions, not immune to them. All Jedi are tempted at one point or another."
Aayla's eyes looked up, searching his. "Have you, Kit?"
"Of course."
"And?" she asked expectantly. She leaned forward a hair's breadth and the scent of her perfume wafted through the air. The Nautolan found his gaze shifting for a moment from her eyes to her full, moist lips that were gently parted.
"And I remembered that I was a Jedi."
The young Twi'lek leaned back, her expression approaching hurt. "Oh," she mumbled, reflecting on his words. "Then I merely lack discipline..."
"No... I'm sorry Aayla. I did not mean to be so curt. I only meant that as Jedi, we serve the will of the Force before all else. It is an obligation that supercedes our personal drives. Feelings are a part of life; we acknowledge and learn from them. And there are some emotions that are simply stronger than others. Love, fear, and hate for instance: these are intense feelings. They are passions that cloud our judgment and make our motives confused. We must resolve ourselves to be wary of them, but it is easier to say than do."
"But should we? I mean no disrespect, Master, but should the Jedi completely forswear such emotions? Is not friendship a kind of love? We are taught to be compassionate, but isn't that a kind of love as well?"
Kit sighed. "That is not the issue, Aayla. Attachment is forbidden. Possessive relationships are forbidden. It has always been this way. They speak to what you want rather than what the will of the Force wants; leading to fear and greed and inexorably to the dark side."
Aayla's eyes focused on Kit's. "So merely having those feelings does not necessarily lead down the dark path?"
"No. The dark and light sides are choices, not feelings. Being aware of your emotions is not the same as being controlled by them."
"Exactly!" she exclaimed, her eyes brightening. "Kit," she continued, her voice quickening and rising in intensity with each word. "In my studies, I read of a great Jedi from millennia ago, during the time of Exar Kun. It was his belief that the Order was too restrictive on matters of the heart. That such feelings as love were not contrary to the will of the Force. That passion and love were not the same thing at all. That -- that if one could control one's passions while being in love, for instance..."
"The Bindo Theory, yes," Kit said, cutting her off. "Madame Jocasta Nu is always threatening to erase that particular file..."
"But was it not a rational conclusion? Perhaps if we -- the Jedi, I mean -- would allow ourselves to feel such things but still be open to letting it pass on without regret; surely that would not go against the Order's doctrines?"
"Aayla, the Code is clear on this matter." Her determination troubled him, and his voice took on the appropriate gravity. "Passions, whether they be good or ill, hardly allow for rational thought. Those who have fallen to the dark side thought that they could control their actions only to find themselves forever chained to evil. Passion can twist you, even if you have the best of intentions. That is why we must deny ourselves those emotions."
Aayla frowned for a moment before responding. "But what of unconditional love, Kit? Surely there is no selfishness in that?"
"That may be so, but such love is rare."
"What about Nomi Sunrider?" she asked defiantly.
"Those were different times."
She stood up, her frustration not allowing her to sit still any longer. "But Master Ki-Adi Mundi is married!" she insisted.
"He is Cerean. The Council allowed him to take wives because of the mitigating circumstances of his species."
"But --"
"Jedi Secura," Kit's tone became stern, "be mindful of your temper. Are you not proving to yourself how dangerous such feelings are?"
Aayla looked at him pleadingly. "Kit, didn't you --?"
The young Twi'lek stopped herself, a pained sigh escaping her lips as she turned away from him and stared out the window overlooking the storm-swept ocean. She hugged herself tightly and her lekku snapped back and forth. Kit said nothing, unsure what to do. But in his mind he looked deeper, feeling her through the Force. In it, her aura was as tumultuous as the waters outside Tipoca City. Waves of anxiety and doubt collided with underlying currents of passions Jedi were forbidden.
Her thoughts, as far as he could interpret, were centered on him. It was if she wanted something other than his validation for her feelings.
She seemed so lost, and Kit felt an urge to comfort her, to help ease her distress somehow. Finally, he walked over and stood close behind her. "Aayla... perhaps --"
Without a word, she turned suddenly and kissed him. Truly kissed him. Overcome by surprise, the Jedi Master took several seconds before he regained his senses and pulled away.
"Aayla," Kit started, seeing the longing in her eyes. "I don't think this --"
"Don't think..." she whispered breathlessly as her hands slid up his chest to stroke his cheeks, "feel..."