"I'm not going to get you in trouble, am I? That Twi'lek," she gestured to the far end of the room, where a small area was partitioned off into a sort of office for the heavy boss, "didn't seem like he wanted me bothering anyone."
Elam shrugged. "Ten to one he doesn't notice I've left my desk for half an hour. Besides, I'm his best one, so he can't fire me." He grinned at her, daring her to be shocked by his very un-Jedi-like behavior. It worked.
"That's not exactly the work ethic the Jedi teach," she remarked, a little coldly.
"I'm not exactly a Jedi, so it fits," he smirked. "Who's your master?"
"Eronno Rey."
He nodded thoughtfully. "I've met him once or twice; he seems decent. Not too many masters have their padawans on Coruscant just now, so learn the lingo or you'll stick out like a Sullustan forehead."
"Thanks."
Elam raised an eyebrow. "Brr. Guess I'll get back to work."
She nodded, wavering between feeling guilty over how obviously rude she was being, and insulted by how lightly he took his work. If I had been sent to the Service Corp, I would have done my absolute best. People still depend on them. How can he just blow off his responsibilities?
"You feel that?" he asked, turning around halfway to his desk. His expression was puzzled.
"Feel what?" she asked, trying to shove her thoughts away.
He tilted his head, like he was listening for something. "The Force. It was... cold, for a sec there." He shrugged and went back to his desk.
The comment startled her; she had felt no change in the ambient Force noise. I was too busy being emotional and rude to notice, she thought ruefully. I guess... I guess I am proud. Proud of my humility. Weird. I didn't know you could be. She was on the brink of walking over to his desk and apologizing, but her communicator finally beeped. Eronno's voice played quietly and sounded slightly canned.
"Lutha, meet me in the west conservatory, and we'll start your training."
She frowned. I'll come back later. "Coming, Ma- Eronno."
Stepping into the conservatory felt like stepping back onto Tython. Green and flowing plants grew in carefully disorganized rows, to give the place a more natural feeling. Water flowed over several elegant waterfalls and into pools stocked with jewel-colored fish. The floor was slabs of unpolished stone and the walls and ceiling had holographic projectors installed to mimic the appearance of a real forest. Birds sang from somewhere in the branches of several thirty-foot trees, and bright dragonfly-like insects hummed their way from blossom to blossom. Lutha breathed in deeply, feeling the stress of Coruscant slip away. She had not even realized how much the background noise of the planet's Force aura bothered her until it stopped. Slowly, she wandered up and down the rows of plants, stopping to admire the exotic fragrances and colors every few meters. If I had a choice, I think I'd never leave.
"That would be the wrong attitude to take," Eronno commented, opening one eye. He was sitting crosslegged on the floor between two giant potted Malreaux roses, presumably meditating. Lutha sat down across from him as he continued, "A place like this is a good place to recharge, but you can't hide here. You can't shelter yourself from the noise; you have to face it, change it, fix it. That is what a Jedi does: takes the peace of this place and spreads it."
"Yes, of course," she agreed hastily. "I just meant... being a hermit doesn't seem so bad when you're in here."
He laughed. "A real hermit has to face wild animals and natural disasters. When they get sick, there's no one to help them. If they get lonely, who do they talk to?"
"They'd tame the animals, endure the disasters, help themselves, and talk to the sky," Lutha replied cheerfully.
Eronno opened both eyes and laughed again. "Good! Then pretend we're Jedi hermits for a minute and let's try something."
"You said you wanted to start my training?"
"Yes, but not the traditional way. Tell me something: in this moment, what are you feeling, Lutha?"
She took another deep breath, searching for the right word. Just above, one of the brilliant crimson birds burst into a little trill of song. The waterfalls echoed steadily against the rocks. There was no noise, no pressure in her head, no self-doubt or guilt, only calm and tranquility. "Content, Master. I am at peace."
Eronno nodded. "That is what you've been taught. But now we're going to try something new. What is the happiest memory you have?"
Lutha obediently dug through her memories. "Well... When the Council said you wanted me to be your padawan, I suppose."
"And how did you feel then?"
She rubbed the back of her neck uneasily. "Happy, obviously. Too emotional; I lost control."
"Not lost control, Lutha; gained it." He smiled warmly. "One of my hobbies is studying rare powers in the past of our order; a habit of my training, I suppose. There have been times - not many - where a Force-sensitive can only control the Force through the use of emotions. It's almost as if the Force recognizes these individuals differently and demands more from them. On the other hand, they had incredible command of the Force and became very powerful."
"I've never even heard of that, Master," Lutha replied in surprise.
He shrugged. "I suspect you actually have. Exar Kuun was reportedly one such individual, as was Caraf Nal."
Lutha bit her lip in disappointment. "Um, Master... They were Sith."
"Yes. So, apparently, is everyone with your gift. Even the Emperor, if the rumors are true." The Twi'lek sat down on a stone bench, his face very serious. "What I am saying, padawan, is that there's never been someone like you who hasn't fallen to the Dark Side, with catastrophic results. So you and I have a chance to break the streak."
"What makes you think I won't fall?" Lutha shook her head.
Eronno smiled a little. "For one thing, you have a very evident desire to please your teachers instead of yourself. Second, you have already suffered loss and been held back by your masters, but without being bitter. No one is ever really safe from the dark side, but an unselfish attitude is a good indicator of promise. Now, try and feel that emotion again."
She closed her eyes, breathing slowly and trying to recreate the moment in her mind. Standing in front of the Council, feeling nervous, then shocked, then thrilled. She tried to grasp at that feeling again, to force it back into existence. She felt Eronno lay his hand over hers, helping her through the Force, his strenth and experience allowing her to do what she might not be able to on her own.
"Good job," he murmured. "Now, instead of locking that feeling away so you can't feel it, so Jedi can't see it in you, I want you to project it outward. Picture it like mist coming from you and spreading out into the Force."
Lutha's subconscious struggled against the direction, years of habit forcing her feelings to stay suppressed. Okay, so visualize it. A mist, a cloud of smoke, a trail of sparks. Trapped in me. Just open the cage and-
The lone bird above them suddenly burst into song again; a long flowing aria that sounded too complicated and melodic for a non-sentient. Other avians joined in, building harmonies in an impossible way. The insects hummed a steady beat for the music with their wings. The conservatory was no longer quiet - it was alive with joy. Lutha opened her eyes and stared around her, awed by the change. As soon as she stopped focusing, the melody collapsed and splintered into ordinary chirps. Her head hurt from the effort and she could feel her pulse pounding at her temples.
Eronno reached forward and squeezed her shoulder. "Well done, padawan."