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The Force is peace. Do not meet power with power, but instead with gentleness.
The words flowed through Salek Fallanai’s mind as he meditated in the Jedha Temple’s crystal garden. He thought back through the previous hour’s lightsaber precision drills, how he had clumsily hacked through them. His ability to sense things through the Force had increased dramatically over the last nine months, but he could still barely make out anything inorganic. The rocks and crystals around him seemed like sighted people would use terms like ‘hazy’ and ‘translucent,’ though he could only guess at how similar the experiences were. Salek had tripped over a piece of broken drone on the way out of training and almost fallen down the stairs.
What he could sense, though, was power. The steady glow of the life around him, the intense searing burn of ignited lightsabers. The quiet bustle of the temple around him was a constant draw on his attention. It was like trying to recite a speech in a room full of other people talking. But it was so wondrous; Salek spent a lot of his meditation time simply marveling at the sight, drinking in the beauty of a sense he had never thought he would have.
Of course, not everything was lovely. He could feel the teachers humoring him. Whenever he fell, he could tell how they stacked one more brick atop the wall of ‘this young man means well, but he’ll never be useful in a fight’ that closed him in. He could feel the snickers even more than he could hear them. The shame burned within him, and he gritted his teeth and redoubled his effort to clear his mind.
He succeeded for a while, but then the emotional background buzz grew louder. He could sense a general state of…consternation? Irritation? And undertones of shame at having those emotions. That was somewhat rare in the temple, but even more rare was for a large, concentrated group to have it at once. Something was happening near the main entrance, and that emotional ripple was rapidly approaching the garden. Salek gathered his feet under him in a kneeling position, eyes still closed and seemingly at peace. This was a posture he had been taught to assume in times of danger, seemingly still and at peace but ready to spring to his feet instantly. Not that it would do him much good; the crystal garden was a bouquet of sharp edges and trip hazards, and he would cut himself to ribbons trying to run through it quickly.
The gate to the garden opened, and the dull hum of voices suddenly popped into sharp clarity.
“…stand that, but you’ve no right to-“ Master Maedwin’s clipped, business like tone was saying before a rough male voice cut her off.
“I have every right. The council gave me the title of Master, and that means I am entitled to take apprentices.”
“You train apprentices, you don’t take them, Len,” Maedwin said in a tone of exaggerated patience.
“If you had your way, I wouldn’t do that either,” the man’s voice snapped back in a fierce whisper. Salek’s delicate ears picked up the sound easily from across the garden, and he could tell they were drawing nearer to his alcove. Master Maedwin’s presence comforted him, and he settled down into a more relaxed posture. The voice continued even more quietly, “I’m not having this argument again, Mae. Now stand down and don’t undermine my authority in front of the students, or I’ll start returning the favor. You know I have plenty of ammo.”
A spike of outrage shot all through Master Maedwin, so hot and sudden that it made Salek flinch back. She mastered it quickly, but the very presence of that emotion in someone so perfectly calm and collected left him stunned. Who was this stranger who could break the control of a Jedi Master with just a few words?
The pair rounded the last bend and stood a couple of meters from Salek. He held still, keeping himself calm and peaceful the way he had been taught. He caught a hint of approval from Master Maedwin, while the stranger just felt murky, indistinct, like sound muffled through a thick pillow. He barely even felt the warning from the Force when one of the nearby crystals flew up and smacked him in the back of the head. He tried to spring to his feet at the attack, but the blow had thrown his balance forward, and he wound up stumbling into a large and particularly spiky crystal bush. He fell backward again, trying to get away from the sharp edges, and lay there as warmth began trickling from gashes along his hands, wrists, and one on his face.
“How DARE!” Master Maedwin shouted, and Salek heard her oddly melodic lightsaber snap to life. She stood over him, facing the stranger while protective instincts, resolution, and anger whipped around inside her like a hurricane. The stranger looked back, statue still and completely silent. The pain faded enough for Salek to start thinking again, and he watched the two through the Force. They weren’t speaking, but it seemed like much was being said between them. He wished he could make out faces, see their expressions.
After several tense moments, the anger faded, and Master Maedwin disengaged her lightsaber. She lowered her head and stepped to the side. Her emotions were barely settled, but they had shifted to a blend of regret, shame, and…relief? Odd.
The stranger stepped forward and held out his hand to Salek.
“On your feet, son,” the voice said. Through that muffling pillow, Salek could feel one thing in the man: stone-hard determination. This was not a suggestion, it was a command with the weight of a world behind it. He could feel the blood on his right hand, and he considered for a split second about awkwardly using his left, or getting up on his own. But that sense never wavered, and he had an instinct. He reached out, ignoring the blood on his hand, and gripped a calloused and solid hand tightly. The man pulled Salek to his feet, effortless despite Salek’s considerable height and build. Salek was quite a bit taller than this man, but suddenly he was sure that wouldn’t matter much.
“My name is Lentus Tavano,” the man said, and he turned the bloody grip into a handshake.
“Pleased to meet you, M-Master Tavano,” Salek said, casting his eyes down in a little bow.
“Master Lentus,” the man said. “In my culture, you only call someone by the last name if you’re about to kill him or you just did.”
“Noted, Master Lentus,” Salek replied quickly.
“Better. Now face up, let me see you.” Salek raised his eyes. “Huh. Miralukan?”
“No, Master,” Salek said with a shake of his head.
“That’s weird. No implants. Why?”
“They didn’t take.”
“Will of the Force maybe. Okay. Who told you to come to the Jedi Academy?”
“An Ithorian named Resias,” Salek replied. “I ran across him on Herdship Omedalia.”
Lentus nodded thoughtfully. “Good,” he said. “You’ll do. I will be your Master from now on. You’ll do as I say, you’ll listen intently, and you’ll hesitate at your own peril. Get your clothes, we leave in one hour.”
“Leave?” Salek asked, confused.
“The temple life doesn’t suit me,” Lentus replied. “And frankly, they’re more comfortable around here if I’m gone. Now hurry, I’m used to shorter hours than galactic standard.”
“Umm…” Master Maedwin nodded to him, pushing out a little pulse of emotion. “Yes, Master,” Salek finished with another small bow. He picked his way carefully along the garden path, hissing quietly at the pain from his cuts. He had cleaned off his hands and shoved half of his clothes into a bag before he realized that Lentus hadn’t even bothered to get his name. That thought seemed to dispel some sort of trance, and Salek realized that he hadn’t thought to question a single thing. Thoughts now swirled around his head. Who was this guy? What had Salek been shoved into? And why hadn’t Master Maedwin protected him?
The words flowed through Salek Fallanai’s mind as he meditated in the Jedha Temple’s crystal garden. He thought back through the previous hour’s lightsaber precision drills, how he had clumsily hacked through them. His ability to sense things through the Force had increased dramatically over the last nine months, but he could still barely make out anything inorganic. The rocks and crystals around him seemed like sighted people would use terms like ‘hazy’ and ‘translucent,’ though he could only guess at how similar the experiences were. Salek had tripped over a piece of broken drone on the way out of training and almost fallen down the stairs.
What he could sense, though, was power. The steady glow of the life around him, the intense searing burn of ignited lightsabers. The quiet bustle of the temple around him was a constant draw on his attention. It was like trying to recite a speech in a room full of other people talking. But it was so wondrous; Salek spent a lot of his meditation time simply marveling at the sight, drinking in the beauty of a sense he had never thought he would have.
Of course, not everything was lovely. He could feel the teachers humoring him. Whenever he fell, he could tell how they stacked one more brick atop the wall of ‘this young man means well, but he’ll never be useful in a fight’ that closed him in. He could feel the snickers even more than he could hear them. The shame burned within him, and he gritted his teeth and redoubled his effort to clear his mind.
He succeeded for a while, but then the emotional background buzz grew louder. He could sense a general state of…consternation? Irritation? And undertones of shame at having those emotions. That was somewhat rare in the temple, but even more rare was for a large, concentrated group to have it at once. Something was happening near the main entrance, and that emotional ripple was rapidly approaching the garden. Salek gathered his feet under him in a kneeling position, eyes still closed and seemingly at peace. This was a posture he had been taught to assume in times of danger, seemingly still and at peace but ready to spring to his feet instantly. Not that it would do him much good; the crystal garden was a bouquet of sharp edges and trip hazards, and he would cut himself to ribbons trying to run through it quickly.
The gate to the garden opened, and the dull hum of voices suddenly popped into sharp clarity.
“…stand that, but you’ve no right to-“ Master Maedwin’s clipped, business like tone was saying before a rough male voice cut her off.
“I have every right. The council gave me the title of Master, and that means I am entitled to take apprentices.”
“You train apprentices, you don’t take them, Len,” Maedwin said in a tone of exaggerated patience.
“If you had your way, I wouldn’t do that either,” the man’s voice snapped back in a fierce whisper. Salek’s delicate ears picked up the sound easily from across the garden, and he could tell they were drawing nearer to his alcove. Master Maedwin’s presence comforted him, and he settled down into a more relaxed posture. The voice continued even more quietly, “I’m not having this argument again, Mae. Now stand down and don’t undermine my authority in front of the students, or I’ll start returning the favor. You know I have plenty of ammo.”
A spike of outrage shot all through Master Maedwin, so hot and sudden that it made Salek flinch back. She mastered it quickly, but the very presence of that emotion in someone so perfectly calm and collected left him stunned. Who was this stranger who could break the control of a Jedi Master with just a few words?
The pair rounded the last bend and stood a couple of meters from Salek. He held still, keeping himself calm and peaceful the way he had been taught. He caught a hint of approval from Master Maedwin, while the stranger just felt murky, indistinct, like sound muffled through a thick pillow. He barely even felt the warning from the Force when one of the nearby crystals flew up and smacked him in the back of the head. He tried to spring to his feet at the attack, but the blow had thrown his balance forward, and he wound up stumbling into a large and particularly spiky crystal bush. He fell backward again, trying to get away from the sharp edges, and lay there as warmth began trickling from gashes along his hands, wrists, and one on his face.
“How DARE!” Master Maedwin shouted, and Salek heard her oddly melodic lightsaber snap to life. She stood over him, facing the stranger while protective instincts, resolution, and anger whipped around inside her like a hurricane. The stranger looked back, statue still and completely silent. The pain faded enough for Salek to start thinking again, and he watched the two through the Force. They weren’t speaking, but it seemed like much was being said between them. He wished he could make out faces, see their expressions.
After several tense moments, the anger faded, and Master Maedwin disengaged her lightsaber. She lowered her head and stepped to the side. Her emotions were barely settled, but they had shifted to a blend of regret, shame, and…relief? Odd.
The stranger stepped forward and held out his hand to Salek.
“On your feet, son,” the voice said. Through that muffling pillow, Salek could feel one thing in the man: stone-hard determination. This was not a suggestion, it was a command with the weight of a world behind it. He could feel the blood on his right hand, and he considered for a split second about awkwardly using his left, or getting up on his own. But that sense never wavered, and he had an instinct. He reached out, ignoring the blood on his hand, and gripped a calloused and solid hand tightly. The man pulled Salek to his feet, effortless despite Salek’s considerable height and build. Salek was quite a bit taller than this man, but suddenly he was sure that wouldn’t matter much.
“My name is Lentus Tavano,” the man said, and he turned the bloody grip into a handshake.
“Pleased to meet you, M-Master Tavano,” Salek said, casting his eyes down in a little bow.
“Master Lentus,” the man said. “In my culture, you only call someone by the last name if you’re about to kill him or you just did.”
“Noted, Master Lentus,” Salek replied quickly.
“Better. Now face up, let me see you.” Salek raised his eyes. “Huh. Miralukan?”
“No, Master,” Salek said with a shake of his head.
“That’s weird. No implants. Why?”
“They didn’t take.”
“Will of the Force maybe. Okay. Who told you to come to the Jedi Academy?”
“An Ithorian named Resias,” Salek replied. “I ran across him on Herdship Omedalia.”
Lentus nodded thoughtfully. “Good,” he said. “You’ll do. I will be your Master from now on. You’ll do as I say, you’ll listen intently, and you’ll hesitate at your own peril. Get your clothes, we leave in one hour.”
“Leave?” Salek asked, confused.
“The temple life doesn’t suit me,” Lentus replied. “And frankly, they’re more comfortable around here if I’m gone. Now hurry, I’m used to shorter hours than galactic standard.”
“Umm…” Master Maedwin nodded to him, pushing out a little pulse of emotion. “Yes, Master,” Salek finished with another small bow. He picked his way carefully along the garden path, hissing quietly at the pain from his cuts. He had cleaned off his hands and shoved half of his clothes into a bag before he realized that Lentus hadn’t even bothered to get his name. That thought seemed to dispel some sort of trance, and Salek realized that he hadn’t thought to question a single thing. Thoughts now swirled around his head. Who was this guy? What had Salek been shoved into? And why hadn’t Master Maedwin protected him?
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