"Wait. Hold on. What do you mean you're going to be a Jedi?!" Carth hissed as Ariv sighed, grabbing the belongings he'd left behind from the footlocker aboard the Hawk and stuffing them into a bag.
"I meant exactly what I said, Carth," he answered, annoyed, "I was just as confused as you are. The Council told me I was powerful with the force, and that me and Bastila could help stop Malak. What was I supposed to say, no?" he continued, standing up, zipping the bag and leaving the crew quarters, the Captain following closely on his heels.
"This is very unusual…the Jedi don't take just anyone, especially someone as old as you are."
"This is a special circumstance," a voice came from the main hold of the ship. It was Bastila, she too was carrying her meagre belongings, taking them back to her dorms in the Enclave.
"All I ask is that you trust in the Force and the wisdom of the Council," she continued, "It is important that Ariv is trained in the ways of the Force," she bit her lip, unsure of what to say next, "We may have found…something that may aid us in this war. I cannot say more than this."
"Well, I don't like being left out of the loop," Carth said, temporarily placated by her answer, "but I'm not looking to get you in any trouble with the Jedi Masters. We'll do things your way for a while." She nodded, giving one look to Ariv and hurried away.
Carth raised his brow at her odd behaviour and Ariv sighed. Bastila had avoided him since the meeting with the Council, probably because she could tell he was going to ask her about their shared dream, but clearly, she had no desire to discuss the matter. He let her go, knowing that that conversation had to happen in private. He'd corner the Jedi princess later and demand answers then.
"You said you were going to talk to the High Command. What did they say?" Ariv asked Carth finally, if he was going to be a Jedi, then he'd probably have to resign from the ranks of the Navy.
Carth sighed, "Admiral Dodonna's instructions were clear: I have to stay here. My job right now is to basically see what the Jedi are up to, act like an…emissary of the Navy."
"I see," was all Ariv said, "Well…while you're here, can you check up on Mission as well? She doesn't have anywhere else to go, and now that my training's started, I might not get to see her as much."
"Of course," Carth said without hesitation and he smiled, hearing the conviction in the Captain's voice.
?¬゚ᄀ? ?¬゚ᄀ? ?¬゚ᄀ?
"Come," Master Zhar began as Ariv walked into the room. It was big and unoccupied. Large windows lined the wall, allowing copious amounts of light to filter through, and showed the magnificent landscape of the planet. It was still early in the morning and the sun barely peeked over the horizon.
Numerous woven straw mats were placed on the floor and incense burned in the corner, the earthy and smoking scent was subtle and calming. Unfortunately, Bastila was nowhere to be found. Curiously, there were no racks for weaponry, and the layout suggested that it was more for meditation than for sparring.
He came to stand before the Master who smiled once before confirming his assumption, "We shall start with meditation. You must learn to channel the force before we begin moving to saber forms and techniques involving the use of the force."
Ariv blinked, "Did I not already channel the force on Taris? Why do I have to do this again?"
"Because," Zhar explained patiently, "You were using the force instinctively on Taris. Many force-sensitives start out that way, but that does not mean that we do not train them further. Now sit, close your eyes, reach out, and tell me what you feel."
Ariv swallowed and did as instructed, he sat down on the mat and closed his eyes. Reach out..he did not quite understand what Master Zhar meant by that, but since he was to meditate, he assumed he wouldn't have to physically reach out, but do so using the force and his mind.
He sat cross-legged and tried to expand his senses and his mind to the planet around him but was…stopped cold. It was like something was holding him back. He couldn't feel...anything. All he could feel was the roughness of the mat and the warmth of sunlight. He could also hear Master Zhar's soft footsteps as the Jedi took small circles around him. All physical things, but nothing from the force.
He couldn't feel anything or anyone…like he had felt the plight and suffering of the Tarisians like it was his own. He couldn't sense the Master's presence, or that of any other Jedi's, let alone any other Dantooine citizen.
Bastila had mentioned that those who were sensitive should be able to do so…but he simply couldn't.
"Well?" Master Zhar asked and Ariv swallowed, determined to try again.
"…I am trying," Ariv answered diplomatically.
"It's alright," Master Zhar said, "take your time, meditation is not as easy as most assume. It helps strengthen your connection to the force and test your patience as well."
A few minutes passed as he reached out once more, encountering the blockade in his head. He tried to push through, he really did, but was met with sharp pain that made him wince.
Kriff. Of all the goddam issues.
He swallowed once more, prodding against the resistance in his mind only to be met with more pain.
But Ariv knew he couldn't stop, he had to try. Unfortunately for him, the pain only increased, but he did not breathe a word to the Master who stopped his pacing and sat down before him.
"…Padawan," Master Zhar began, concerned, "…Are you alright?"
"Yes," he answered, voice strangled from agony, he pushed himself further but Master Zhar grabbed his arm, pulling him out of his stupor. Ariv's eyes flew open and he blinked, trying to clear his vision of the haze and dark spots. He was panting from exertion, he didn't understand why this was happening to him.
After a few moments of silence that allowed Ariv to collect his thoughts, Master Zhar asked, "What…what happened? Are you alright?"
"I…" Ariv began, thinking about what to say. Master Zhar seemed better than most Jedi, he had been patient with him and even now, his tone seemed almost worried.
"I can't…my head hurts when I try to reach for the force. It was like there is this block in my mind." He said, deciding it was best to be truthful.
Master Zhar's frown deepened, "What do you mean?"
"It feels like someone is repeatedly taking a battering ram to my skull and something is stopping me from seeking out the force when I try."
A flicker of guilt crossed Master Zhar's face before it returned to curious neutrality, "Did that happen on Taris?" he asked.
"...No. I think I may have used the force to freeze a rancor and blaster bolt for a split second and to speed up my swoop, but it did not hurt me at all. Only when I felt the planet be destroyed I felt as though I was dying as well. But Bastila seemed affected by it too." Ariv laid out the facts before the Jedi for he did not know much about the force, but it made sense that Master Zhar might have answers.
The Jedi sat back again, contemplating the cause.
"I heard that you…were brought to the Enclave last year?" Master Zhar asked and Ariv stiffened immediately. He did not like talking about it, but it made no sense to hide this from the Jedi, after all, they could always get their hands on his medical and service record from the Navy.
"...Yes. I was injured badly during a mission nearby. I do not know who saved me and brought me here, but they saved my life."
"I see," Master Zhar answered. "I must consult the Council about this, perhaps they have a better solution than I do." With that, he got up and Ariv followed suit, what does he mean? Would he not be trained anymore? What was he supposed to do?
"Go to the Archives," Master Zhar instructed just as Ariv was going to ask him that, "There you shall meet a fellow Padawan, Belaya. She will guide you to the holobooks containing the history of our Order. I suggest that you familiarise yourself with that while the Council is in session. We do not have a moment to waste."
He nodded, dumbfounded, but agreed realising that he was, unfortunately, a little out of depth in this situation. Master Zhar gave him one last sad smile before leaving.
?¬゚ᄀ? ?¬゚ᄀ? ?¬゚ᄀ?
The archives on Dantooine were located in the eastern wing of the Enclave, according to the map that the Jedi had given him. Before him stood a set of large wood doors that creaked loudly when he pushed them open. Ariv cringed at the sound and how it disturbed the quiet of the library within. An old Master had been wrapping up a lesson with a bunch of small apprentices looked up at him and glared. Ariv smiled apologetically and made his way deeper inside as the Master took his students out into the courtyard.
The doors shut behind him and he tried looking for the padawan that Master Zhar had said would help. The library was entirely deserted, yet he hesitated to call out to anyone.
The map had shown that this room occupied most of the Enclave on this side, tall shelves lined with books took up majority of the place and were interrupted only by large tables that were used by students while reading.
He faced the shelves again, glancing over to the titles of the holobooks displayed and a sharp voice interrupted his readings, "You there! Padawan!"
Ariv turned to see the woman who had yelled at him, "Why are you not wearing the customary robes of the Jedi? Do you mock the honoured traditions of our Order?"
His brow furrowed, he had not been given the customary robes of a Jedi, and he did not need them either, he was perfectly content with his black jacket, shirt and pants. He did not care if it made him look more like a smuggler or pilot than a soldier.
"I…haven't any such robes," He answered her truthfully.
"That…that can't possibly be!" she countered, "You must be neglecting your studies, Padawan."
"I…look, I'm not really a padawan, I just started training toda–" he began, but she interrupted him, "I find this hard to believe. The Force is strong within you. I can feel its presence," I can't, he thinks sardonically as she continues, "If this is some type of jest, it is in very poor taste. The Jedi Order is not a subject for jokes."
"I am telling you the truth," he insisted, "You are mistaken. I am not a Jedi, my name is Ariv Drayen and I was a soldier in the Republic Navy. Master Zhar sent me to find someone named Belaya who was to direct me to the archives about the history of the Order."
"Oh," the woman said, "You're the padawan Master Zhar told me to speak to…I'm sorry, I assumed that it would be…someone younger," she said, "I am Belaya, please forgive the abruptness with which I first greeted you. It was harsh and perhaps unfair. My Master often warns me I must learn to control my emotions. I see I have much left to learn."
"It's alright," Ariv said and Belaya led him towards a large console that he assumed was used to catalogue all the data stored here.
?¬゚ᄀ? ?¬゚ᄀ? ?¬゚ᄀ?
Ariv jerked awake as the doors of the archive room creaked open. The holobook before him had become dim because of how long it had been sitting idle. He hastily rubbed the sleep from his eyes and sat up straight as he heard footsteps draw closer to him. The last thing he remembered was reading about the ancient homeworld of the Jedi – first a small planet in the Unknown regions whose name had been lost to history before the Republic's formation and the other, the world of Tython — where no one could navigate to because hyperlanes to the world had collapsed decades ago.
He was hungry and tired, he had spent most of the day reading and had likely fallen asleep during late afternoon. It was evening now, orange light spilled into the room from the gaps in the blinds and the lanterns high on the wall and set on the tables had been lit and a few seconds later, Bastila walked into view and said immediately, "The Council has been looking for you."
"Sorry," Ariv began, and cringed releasing his voice sounded rough from misuse and sleep. He cleared his throat to cover up the fact that he had been asleep and continued, "I was reading about the Jedi. It was more…interesting than I could have expected and got caught up."
He got up and placed the holobook on its respective shelf just like Belaya had shown him, what he said was true, while he had fallen asleep while reading, it wasn't because it was uninteresting, but because he was tired and he had lost track of time reading. Bastila only nodded at his statement and said, "Master Zhar spoke of what happened today."
Ariv froze, "Wait, were you present for their meeting?"
"No," the Jedi said, leading him towards the cafeteria of the Enclave, "They spoke to me once their session was over."
"I see," he answered, "What decision have they come to? Am I…am I not to be trained?" He hoped that wasn't the case. While he had found it difficult, well, nigh impossible to channel the force here, what he had felt on Taris was real. And all the visions he'd had, his so-called bond with Bastila—not training and getting answers would drive him crazy.
"Of course not," Bastila answered, "Your–our vision is too important for us to simply ignore or not work on."
"Then…what? What do the Jedi plan to do?" He asked.
Bastila sighed as though she had been given some burdensome task, "I…I am to train with you," she admitted as they entered the common room. Jedi of all ages sat on small tables in groups talking about their day over their meals.
Ariv wanted to ask for more details, but Bastila grabbed a plate for herself and heaped up some topato stew and bloom bread. He quietly did the same and the two sat on a table in the corner, shrouded by the thick bark of the blba tree.
After a few moments of silence, he finally spoke, "Why…why do you have to train with me? I thought you would have to rejoin the war."
Bastila shook her head, "Our…bond may help you."
"How so? On Taris – when I used the force, you were not with me." Something about the Council's reasoning was odd…why would they make their most important Jedi – the head of their war effort stay on a small, Outer Rim planet to train someone like him when she could be doing a myriad of far more important things.
"True, I was not, but those were life-or-death situations for you. And in any case, our visions are because the force has willed it. Whether you like it or not–you and I are connected. Your actions affect me as well." She chewed on her bread to buy her a few moments to articulate herself next words properly, "If you do not train, you are vulnerable to falling – even the Sith will see your power and want you with them. And if you fall while you and I are tethered to each other…." She trailed off, but Ariv understood what was left unsaid.
If he were to fall – then there was a chance, admittedly a small one – that she would as well. It was not a risk the Jedi were willing to take, and frankly, he did not blame them.
Besides, he did want to train – if not to become a Jedi – then to at least understand and control his powers.
He finally nodded and the rest of their meal passed in companionable silence. He did want to ask about their bond, but he knew that he wouldn't get answers out of her just yet. It was fine, he would be patient, but he would get the information he needed.
"Meet me tomorrow morning at six hundred hours sharp, I shall be in the mediation chambers with Master Zhar, and we shall begin your training," Bastila informed him as they handed their empty plates to a cleaning droid.
"The Council has assigned you quarters within the Enclave itself, see your datapad. Goodnight." With that abrupt goodbye, Bastila left him alone to return to her rooms.
?¬゚ᄀ? ?¬゚ᄀ? ?¬゚ᄀ?
"Welcome again," Master Zhar greeted Ariv as he entered the meditation chambers. Ariv only gave him a half-hearted smile in response.
This had been his routine for the past week – come to the mediation chambers at sunrise, practice channelling the force with Bastila watching and judging his every move, fail spectacularly at doing literally anything while battling a constant headache for hours, and see the disappointment in Master Zhar's eyes before he was inevitably sent to the library to read about the Jedi till sunset. He had been getting bored of that and had been slacking during his meditation – hoping that the Jedi would not notice.
At least he had made some progress in the latter and had managed to read up to the Great Sith War, which had happened only a few decades ago.
"The path you have chosen to walk is difficult," Master Zhar began as Ariv stood before the Bastila who hovered off a mat. Around her, a few objects floated in mid-air, circling the the Jedi, who sat there, eyes shut, concentrating on maintaining her own balance and making sure none of the objects fell while listening to Zhar who continued, "You are aware that meditation will teach you to channel the power of the Force. To truly understand the way of the Jedi, you must open your mind to knowledge. Seek wisdom in the teachings of the great Masters of our Order."
Bastila continued, albeit reluctantly, her previous posture unchanged, "My battle meditation requires me to concentrate–to channel the force not just through myself, but through the armies as well—boosting the morale of my allies while simultaneously reducing my enemies will and ability to fight. I cannot afford to get distracted," a note of disapproval entered her voice, and Ariv nearly winced, apparently his frustration had not gone unnoticed, "I must give myself to the force and become its vessel."
With that, she opened her eyes and gently settled back on her mat while the floating objects gently landed in their rightful place. "Sit," Master Zhar continued, and Ariv did as instructed, "Close your eyes. Reach out. Tell me, padawan, what do you sense?"
Ariv sighed but did as instructed, what bothered him was the disappointment of the Masters. It was clear as day that they expected better from him. He was sick of it, of not being good enough. He was supposed to be powerful, but all he'd managed to do was levitate a datapad a few centimetres high for mere seconds before it clattered to the floor.
He would often doubt…that perhaps the Masters had spoken incorrectly, and maybe he really was nothing special–and that what had transpired on Taris had indeed, been sheer luck. But as though Zhar knew the direction of his thoughts, he told Ariv that it had been easier for him to use the force on Taris because he had been doing it instinctively.
He swallowed, as always, all he could sense were…vague impressions. Frustrated, he sighed, trying to focus more…but to no avail. His head throbbed, like someone had taken a hot poker and twisted it into his brain. He grit his teeth, he would fight against this foreign pain in his head, he had to. Bastila reached out to him, both in his head and her hand on his arm, encouraging him to push past his pain. He wasn't startled by it, but instead, he drew strength from her presence and their bond.
Sweat poured down his face as the pressure in his head increased and finally, when it felt like his mind was verge of collapsing, he saw it, he felt it: images of the planet, the Enclave, seen as if he were one of the brith soaring overhead came alive in his mind almost immediately.
But there was more: so much more, he could see it all as his awareness expanded beyond the chamber he was in. His first impression was of life—and light. It was all around him, he could sense himself, the students of the academy, powerful beacons in the force – the Masters themselves and beyond all that — a clear golden beam of light entwined with something vague. Bastila? he wonders, but she does not answer, who else could it possibly be?
But there was so much more than the Jedi. He felt the presence of blba trees, grasses and shrubs. He could even sense the iriaz, the kath hounds and the lizards that stalked the prairie, he could sense the blackfish that swam in clear ponds. There was so much life on this little Outer-Rim world and he could feel it all.
This was the force, he thinks, it enveloped his senses, plunging him into something so deep, intense and ancient. But the force had more than just light or life, it had death and darkness too.
Just as the verdant and rich flora and fauna of the planet left their undeniable mark on the cosmic force, he could sense dead flesh and vegetable matter, sinking into soil that hid bones and dry sticks from bygone seasons. From death and decay sprang new life, nourished by what had come before.
And all that his senses showed him had been but a moment. That moment was but one of trillions, part of a never-ending cycle that had begun epochs before he was born and would go on for epochs after he was dead.
He heard Master Zhar's faint voice, answering what he'd described, "Yes, yes, my padawan. You finally sense it, the everlasting force and brilliant light."
Master Zhar was right, there was so much light, peace and calmness here but…there was also such darkness. It was ancient, cold and…waiting. He could see the source of darkness now, in his mind's eye. Ancient, and imposing…the ruins — the very same ones he had seen in his dreams, ominous and cold. And near them, a grove, just as old. But the primitive darkness from the ruins was far more powerful, almost oppressive, and…it called to him.
"Resist it," Master Zhar urged, but the words faded as he concentrated on what he was seeing. His surroundings faded away to nothing, and distantly, he was aware of Bastila taking her hand off him as though he was on fire and she couldn't get away faster, but he paid it no mind. All he could hear was the cruel whisper of a forgotten tongue, beckoning him, all he could feel was the power there, he could practically taste it, the bitter cloying sensation of oily, inky darkness, and it could be—it was his–all he had to do was reach out and —
"STOP!" he heard Master Zhar yell and suddenly, Ariv snapped out of his trance as all that hadn't been pinned down in the room came crashing to the floor — the chairs scattered, even the pots of incense and flowers shattered. He gasped for breath, feeling like he'd been dragged out of deep water – or away from a black hole. The Jedi's eyes were wary, terrified—and fixed on him.
"I-" he began, "–the ruins–I sensed them, too," Ariv said by way of explanation, he'd thought that Jedi might have been proud of him, that he'd finally managed to do something, anything. But that wasn't the case. Bastila's face was as white as a sheet and she had scooched away from him and Master Zhar did not look any better, but the Jedi Master clearly had a better grip on his emotions.
Master Zhar sighed, "I should have known of this…possibility. Your lessons are done for the day," he said and Ariv shrank back from what she saw in Master Zhar's gaze and was relieved when he walked away from him.
Sighing himself, Ariv got to his feet, intending to clear up the mess he'd caused. Bastila sat in a daze for a few more seconds and he offered her his hand to help her up, but the Jedi only stared at him and his gloved hand, wide-eyed and horrified, like she'd seen a ghost. She recoiled from his outstretched arm, got up and left without another word.
Well, he thought looking at the mess around him, so much for finally using the force.
