"What's grass?"
Xiel froze mid laugh.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah. Mih-la, do you really not know what grass is?"
"Nope!" she said cheerfully, smoothing down the haphazard hair that had sparked the conversation.
"It's a plant. It's spiky. It's all over the gardens..." He stopped, taking in her expression. "You don't know about those, either, do you?"
"Is something wrong?"
He started to shake his head, but found himself nodding instead. "Yes. Yes there is. Come with me."
He slipped further back from the pipe mouth, careful not to let his sleeves trail in the water. "I can't get dirty or the creche-master will know I've been out in Coruscant by myself again."
Mih-la shrugged, following. "Spoilsports."
Once their echoing footsteps had faded from the pipe entrance, Mih-la piped up again. "So what's a garden?"
"It's got lots of plants."
Mih-la remembered the last time she had seen a plant. There had been a pale, wormlike vine that had somehow survived in the stifling atmosphere of lower Coruscant, curled defensively around a flickering porchlight. She had saved one of its shriveled leaves when she found it trampled in the street with the remnants of the shattered light. Sometimes, when she was younger, she had tried to save a few of the weeds that dared to poke their heads between the metal plating of the streets. They always died, either from the darkness of her room or the dirty water she dripped on them. So she had stopped trying. It was one of those unattainable things you had to give up as you grew older, like owning a speeder.
Unlike her Jedi friend, she could not sense what was buried beyond the walls of the tunnel. But even she could feel the ancient steadiness of the slick stone. Unlike the other water tunnels, these didn't smell of filth. There was only a soft, sweet odor, mixed with the gentle murmur of the water.
As they climbed higher she started to notice an opening or two in the ceiling, filled with that smell instead of light. She stopped to run a hand over it. Her hand came away dark in the emergency lights. She flinched away from it, wrinkling her nose. But it smelled nice, and it didn't hold the sliminess of refuse. Xiel turned around to see her squinting at her hand. He laughed. "That's soil. It's what we grow plants in, in the temple."
"Quiet now." Light, and a breeze drifted out of the grate that he carefully shifted. They came out straight in the middle of a brittle cage of some sort, covered in enormous, glossy leaves, and a brighter, sugary smell from the smaller soft, white appendages.
By the time they'd twisted out of the net of leaves, Mih-la was filthy as well as soaked, her hair strewn with the delicate white bits of plant like snowflakes. "Well there's one less thing to worry about." Xiel stated. "No one will ask why you aren't wearing robes. With that much dirt on you, I can't tell what you're wearing."
Mih-la didn't hear him. She was staring straight up into a bank of lights so strong they made her eyes water and sting. The leaves wove a drunken pattern over them.
"We have the lights instead of the sun. They go dark every night so the plants know when and how to grow."
She dug her toes into more of the soil below her feet and they made their way around a bank of plants with long, thin leaves. Reaching the end of the open ground, Mih-la wasn't sure where to go next. Xiel stepped straight off onto the tiny plants that carpeted the path. He held out a hand to her, and she shied back. "I don't want to hurt them."
Xiel laughed. "You won't."
Cautiously she stuck out her toes, landing in the soft, tickly, green mass. She smiled. "I don't know why you wear shoes all the time. Everything is so soft here." He grinned back, and tugged off his boots. The sound of rushing water was louder now, and he ran ahead, while she let her hands run through the long grasses on either side that startled away from her touch.
Xiel rushed back. "Close your eyes!" She did immediately, freezing.
He grasped her hand. "There's no danger. I just have another surprise for you."
She had plenty of time to wonder what surprise could be better than grass as they made their way down to where the ground was cooler, the rush of water louder, and the air clung to her skin. Her eyes stayed firmly closed, but the lights above them still played against them as they wandered in and out of the shade.
When the grumble of water had risen to a full chorus they stopped. Mih-la opened her eyes and gasped. A white, rushing sheet was in front of her. Was it ice? Ice didn't move like that. And below, the whiteness swirled smoothly into a bright, clear stream of water, throwing up fragmented reflections of every plant, every stone, and every glint of light nearby. The mist at the bottom seemed to hold reflections as well, reflections that weren't there to begin with. They wrapped into a steady arc of bright, varied color.
"This," Xiel said proudly, "is a waterfall."
While Xiel was quick to run and play in the water, Mih-la was more timid, peering at her warped reflection. Another face joined hers in the water. The face was much older than her's or Xiel's, though she could barely tell because it was almost as dirty as her own. She spun around.
"Hello, youngling." The man swept a muddy hand back, tucking some of his long hair back into its slipping knot. He crouched beside her. "Would you mind helping me, since you're already muddy enough?"
She froze. Concern entered the man's soft eyes. "Are you alright?" He reached out with a careful hand, but he stopped before touching her, his face flickering in surprise. His eyes flicked from Xiel to her. Then the surprise softened into something warmer, more gentle.
He held out an armful of red woody stems. "Some of the stream is too narrow for me to plant these willow cuttings without breaking the other plants. I could use your assistance."
She woodenly took the bundle just as Xiel ran up behind her, out of breath. He glanced at her and the older Jedi, pleading written all over his face. He received a short nod from the older man, and his face brightened. Only then did he bob a deep bow. "Master Jinn."
Xiel ran off to grab some hip boots while Master Jinn and Mih-la, both already soaked, got to work. He was quiet at first, but warmed up when she flinched at him cutting more willows with a short knife. He explained how the willows would grow back, and how more of them would stabilize the riverbed. The conversation grew from that trickle into a running commentary of various gardening techniques and particulars that flowed along steadily like the stream itself. By the time Xiel returned, she couldn't have shut the Jedi Master up if she had wanted to. Instead, she soaked in every word, asking questions when they arose. None of the questions seemed to surprise the Jedi Master, however basic.
While she had been chilly earlier, she was glad of the wet and the mud as the room grew hotter. The air grew wetter and warmer over them and insects buzzed. With the stream planted, and exhaustion setting into all of them, they dragged themselves from the mud and made their way overland. They stopped under an enormous plant with sweeping, woody fronds that hid them from the rest of the garden. Master Jinn left to scrounge some lunch.
Mih-la met his eyes. "He knows."
Xiel nodded.
They lapsed into the lazy, sunny silence until Master Jinn returned with sandwiches and half a dozen early quarat.
Halfway through her second sandwich Mih-la' was startled by a low trill above in the branches. "What's that?"
"That is a cliff nester." Master Jinn explained. "They live up around the windows of the highest skyscrapers in Coruscant. One of them found its way in here and laid a whole nest full of eggs. That was a few hundred years back, and now her family's grown to fill the space. It's not the only time it's happened."
"It doesn't surprise me. It seems to me that anything could grow well here."
His eyes darted guiltily from hers. "Yes," he admitted, watching some youngest creche members toddle around in the distance, getting scolded for eating mud and grass.
The heat sank even further over them. Xiel and Master Jinn settled for quietly sitting, but Mih-la fell right to sleep, her face pressed into the grass and roots.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOO
"Master!" Mih-la jumped to see another Jedi. This one was young, though not as young as she was. His face was framed in shadows of long dark hair, and his eyes were bright and hard. He glared at her and Xiel before turning to the older Jedi. "What are you doing sitting here in the dark?"
It wasn't quite dark, though the lights overhead were certainly dimming, and a cold mist had crawled over the sprawling garden. Smaller lights along one of the pathways could be seen in the distance, twinkling like stars on a windy night.
She shivered, and the dark haired Jedi glared at her again. Master Jinn hastily discarded his cloak, collected the remaining sandwiches into one of the wide pockets, and pressed it into her hands.
"I was just heading for the showers." The young Jedi wrinkled his nose, noticing the state of his master's, well, everything. The older Jedi smiled fondly back. "Would you be kind enough to tell Master Li that I sent Xiel on an errand and to expect him back late."
The two younglings waited in tense silence until the other two had departed.
Their eyes met in an identical worried stare.
"Master Jinn may have overlooked this, but Xanatos sure won't. He's one of the biggest bullies here and he won't stop till he's figured out how to get back at you for," he rolled his eyes, "'ruining his master's dignity.'"
Her eyes fell to the mist swirling around her feet. "I know."
"It's alright. You didn't do anything wrong!"
"But you did."
He remembered the shining approval in Master Jinn's parting glance. "No. I don't think I did. We had better hurry though. We have a long way to go."
Despite Xiel's hurry, Mih-la couldn't help loitering a little and soaking up the smell of cool earth and pungent grass, or the whisper of small creatures settling down to sleep.
In the tunnel she found she was very grateful of the heavy cloak, though she had folded it in half and it was too long. She had to hold it off the ground as she hugged Xiel goodbye for the night, and didn't even bother to shed it as she curled up on the blanket in her closet sized room. It was cozier this way anyway. It was cold. A heater would give off too much light between the shuttered windows of the abandoned structure. Well, the cloak was cozy except for... she removed the sandwiches she had accidentally knelt on. They were flatter but still edible. And... something hard... She pulled out a packet of tiny, hard, grainy things and a note.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
It had been hard at first to find the small shop that sold potting soil in secret like it was the next spice. It was harder, even, to sneak back and forth from the pipe that held the Jedi garden's runoff every day. But it was worth it. It turned out that some plants could grow in just as much darkness as she could. The soft scent of the white flowers crept into her dreams and cut through her fiercest apathy. When her newest friend broke down so badly after his mom died that he couldn't stop shaking she knew exactly what he needed.
She brought a few more people to call, and suddenly a fairly honest former plant merchant was telling her these flowers were somehow valuable?
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
"Mam, you simply don't have enough to cover our protection services for the timeframes you're talking about. There's no way in the galaxy we're doing it." What was he even doing down here. He shuddered, wishing for the gleaming airspace of the higher levels.
The lady in front of him sighed. "I guess I'll just have to settle. Will your team at least hire on until we finish renovations? We've had some rather disturbing encounters with members of the populace who aren't friendly or community minded."
"And that will be till when?"
"Renovations are continual, but the reflooring should be finished in about a month. It's all volunteers doing it, you know, not a company. I only had enough to pay for transparisteel and other materials."
"That should be acceptable."
"Thank you very much. Care to come in for a cup of tea?" He glanced at the putrid mix of slime in the gutter and she laughed.
"That's what we have that for." She pointed to... was that a water treatment plant?
"We grow all our leaves here. Our melliandi and our quarat is quite high quality stuff, I've been told. We even sell to the Jedi temple."
"I'm sorry, I don't have time. But if we could sign the contract now, that would help me out a lot."
She nodded, gesturing to the door.
He stepped inside onto a carpet that was far softer than he had expected. Not carpet, grass. He couldn't help a soft exhale of pleasure. It had been years since he'd walked on the stuff. A beam of the fading sun struck his eyes. But it wasn't the sun. A mirror gathered those beams and flung them across the inside of the building, which was far more open than it should be. Though it was small, the next two levels above were being cut open to make room for a tree that's top branches grazed where the first level ceiling had been. Through the gap he could see dozens of pots laid out on the other levels, fed by mirror banks of their own. Around the edge of the bottom floor, a shallow irrigation ditch muttered with the burble of water. A couple quietly talking glanced their way, and one or two people sitting contemplatively on their own. The group of children didn't notice them. The setting sun caught in their hair and headtails and eyes as they leapt and swung wildly for the wooden windchimes in the tree above them. Children in lower Coruscant tended to be quiet, to avoid drawing any attention to themselves. These were probably the loudest children he had seen this side of the 50th level down.
As they passed the children and the tree on the way to the stairs he paused. The tree had been slashed into and half the bark had been ripped off it. He halted, swallowing the bile that rose unaccountably in his throat. He took a second glance around the garden and noticed some bushes on one side that had been uprooted roughly, and a sooty compost pile with the remnants of a charred birdhouse in it. He knew it had not happened from the clumsiness of children.
She turned back to see him staring at the tree. "Don't worry, it's healing quite well."
His eyes met hers. She looked away. "It's fine. Let's get the paperwork."
He shook his head. "There's no way in the galaxy I can help you."
She nodded. "I understand."
"But this isn't the galaxy. It's paradise."
She smiled. "So tea after all?"
He nodded.