Ask Kashyyyk The First Step

[Yulie]

“Seek to understand why you're doing everything you do, and if it conflicts with the Jedi Code, or is fundamentally repulsive to your conscience, do not hesitate to question."

“I will…try, Vera.” It was easy to obey. Even when it felt like a violation of body and mind, she revealed her Mark and allowed Alsuna’s goons to place her on a table to dance. And she even called the Vratix “Master” until she was given Vera as an alternative. To do as Izel instructed, Yulie would require a confidence in herself as well as a confidence in her understanding of the Jedi Code, otherwise she might rationalize blind obedience as necessary. For how could she understand the Code better than her superiors, and how could her conscience be as pure as a true Jedi’s? At least now she had something else to guide her, a set of instructions to speak up if something really didn’t feel right. It would still take a greater effort, though.

When asked how many suffered needlessly under the Empire's reign, M-4PO had several ways it could answer the question, clinically reciting the lists of wounded, dead, Missing In Action, even accounting with chilling precision how many had been forced into camps. It looked at Yulie, however, before reciting the astronomical numbers that quantified decades of Galactic horror. Its eyes flickered and dimmed while processing the ruthless calculus of war.

"...Incalculable, Ma'am. There are those who yet still suffer..." It could have easily been speaking of those languishing in worlds still ravaged by the Empire's strip-mining, descendants of those displaced by Operation Cinder, but it spoke specifically of the Yulie. The mind of a droid was constructed entirely by code and numerical sequences, but there were times when they could put faces to their index and quantify things differently. One Dathomirian humanized an entire portfolio of Prisoners Of War. "...and my data is incomplete." It would need more information to even say with certainty how many present-day Yulies lived in servitude thanks to the Empire; how could it even begin to account for the sum total of misery that war had wrought?

Still, it was a military protocol droid. Some things it could understand, and others it could not. It saw the world not through the lens of its photoreceptors, but through a set of algorithms. The Jedi were warriors, once, and they could be once again.

"Very good. I see you like to touch whatever you're working with. It helps you get a sense of the object."

“Might have picked that up from working on engines.” Yulie thought out loud. Diving barehanded into machinery could partially explain her imperfect way of connecting with the Force. In the absence of proper tools, the tips of her fingers and the edge of her nails nimbly dissected entire motors, sometimes leaving traces of blood from overworked hands when reassembling them. Just as grease dyed her ashen hair, so too did she dye the constructs that she labored over. That did indeed contribute to the feeling that she and the Gray Phoenix were part of each other, but there was a spiritual aspect to it as well.

In some way or another, every component is connected to all the others, no matter how distant or insignificant. To a mechanic, machines were like organisms that way, and anyone who did repairs was all the wiser to remember the symbiotic relationship they had with one another. Whenever Yulie changed the air filters, she was also helping heat flow more naturally, which in turn relieved stress from tertiary systems, and so on. To touch a single part was to be in contact with the whole, and she was always mindful about how she was affecting other systems while she worked.

Even without any knowledge of the Force, she still did find her own way to gravitate towards making connections with her environment. Becoming reliant on tactile sensation was just a bad habit she’d picked up when she withdrew from other people. Thinking of herself as nothing kept her in a state of mind where she felt severed from everything and everyone, that the worlds outside her senses were kept entire apart from herself.

“I’ve been working with my hands as long as I can remember.” To her, working with her hands meant that she was better working with her hands. It required a wisdom deeper than her own to understand that her relationship with the Force was sculpted by her perceptions, that withdrawing from others made it more difficult for her to connect with them, and how retreating into herself also distanced her mind from her surroundings. Working with machines made her part of something in a way that she could understand, and it did more to free her soul than imprison her.

She tried puzzling it out the way a mechanic would, deciding to try “proper” levitation techniques with her tools to rise above relying on her hands.

The lightsabers were still an exciting prospect. When Vera’Thral mentioned them, Yulie immediately imagined herself building one by assembling it telekinetically, levitating several tools in the process. Even though she still don’t know how lightsabers functioned, she must have built a hundred of them in her head. Despite that excitement, she had something else on her mind for whenever they first arrived: mostly to find out where the mess hall and the hunting grounds were.

Daydreaming of lightsabers and eating, Yulie was snapped back to Reality when Vera’Thral suddenly pointed in her direction. The stone launched at the gesture, too high for the girl to flinch or instinctively duck, and since it followed the path of the Vratix’s finger it stood to reason that Vera’Thral wasn’t trying to direct her attention. So Yulie just stuck her arm up to catch it without having any time to give it any thought.

Yulie felt it thwack against the upper tip of her middle finger, even though she didn’t even touch it at all. The stone, several inches higher than furthest the girl could reach even if she jumped, suddenly jerked upwards as if bouncing off an invisible wall, and it froze in midair when the Dathomirian clenched her hand shut, thinking she could grab it.

When she lowered her hand, so too did the stone descend, but it felt like it was in her palm. She could feel the smoothness of the stone clearly, it was still cool and just a little bit damp in its rocky crevasses. Opening her hand to look at it, Yulie was momentarily confused to see that it wasn’t there, and only when she looked upward did she see it suspended above. It was not in her hand, yet it felt like it was.

The stone rolled and tumbled as she repositioned her hand in different ways. Turning her palm sideways allowed it to fall into the dirt, and with a flick of her wrist it skipped into the water. Thoughts, feelings and matter itself. The Force saw no difference between them, for they were all echoes from the same voice. It was a wisdom that she didn’t completely understand, so she just looked at Vera'Thral with a baffled expression.

“But I thought you said I had to touch things to get a good sense of them?”

@Reyn

 

[Izel Thral]

Izel's antennae twitched as she watched Yulie catch the stone using the Force, seemingly without even realizing it. Had the Vratix a mouth, she'd be grinning from non-existent ear to non-existent ear. She remained silent while her Padawan gawked at the result of her own power, and only spoke up to respond to her question.

"I said you like to touch things, not that you had to." She corrected the young Dathomirian. She walked a bit closer. "It's an understandable way to dip your feet into your studies. You've spent your whole life viewing the galaxy from this extremely narrow perspective, through the material. But we are not what our eyes see. Beneath the flesh is the Force. You are just a small collection of that field of energy, a drop of water in the ocean, as it is. So am I. So are the great Shyyyo birds in the sky, the worms in the dirt beneath your feet, and everything in between. It can be difficult to fully let go of your physical self, you'll see even the greatest Jedi Masters still moving their hands and such when they use the Force, but your thoughts are all that matter. When you are perfectly in tune with the Force, physical limitations cease to be a hinderance."

Izel turned and held out her hand, palm down. Another small pebble rose from the ground to her hand, and she grasped it before offering it to Yulie. "For now, think of the Force like another appendage, that has a much greater reach than your hand. And it works just like your arms do. Your brain sends signals, the appendage responds. On the remainder of our journey to the temple I'd like you to keep this in mind. If you need to grab something, try to do it with the Force first. Only use your hands as a last resort." No doubt that would be an annoying exercise, but it would help to train Yulie's mind for more complex practices.

@Zohrael

 

[Yulie]

"I said you like to touch things, not that you had to."

"Oh. I thought you meant--" that Vera'Thral was speaking of the student's limitations and not her ability. It seemed too foolish to actually explain now that Yulie thought about it. Vera'Thral never spoke of limits to Yulie's potential or described things as being unattainable to her. The misunderstanding was just from peering through the milky cloud of doubt, the pale fog that too often darkened into fear if it got to sit for too long. "It doesn't matter what I thought." Yulie said, dispersing the mist with a shake of her head.

Vera'Thral was right in that her perspective was rather limited, however, and paid closer attention to these teachings to prevent another misunderstanding. Having limitations didn't discourage her, but letting go of her physical self was perplexing. She couldn't think of a workaround for something like that. It was no wonder that Force training was a lifelong study; one's own body and senses passively interfered. Ever the mechanic, this didn't stop her from trying.

Or like a prosthetic! She thought to herself when Vera'Thral mentioned appendages. Maybe the Jedi had a medical droid that would happily explain how to connect a robotic limb to a patient's nervous system; it's perspective would probably be fascinating. Learning how a machine understood an organic body could bridge a few gaps in figuring out how to make the immaterial feel more organic. Perhaps she could even do the odd job in Sick Bay if the Jedi didn't have much to work on in the Hangar.

Not using her hands, though...her mind screeched to a halt when given this new assignment. She did everything with her hands! "Okay, I think I can manage that." She said, though she had long since taken her limbs for granted and did not realize how much she used them. It would be a quick and inevitable realization once she got into one of her routines. Catching herself about to pluck Vera'Thral's stone with her bare fingers, Yulie pulled back her hand and dragged the pebble as if it were pulled by webbing. It swayed in a pendulum motion, drooping towards the ground unless Yulie flicked her hand back and lifted it back up through the Force.

"Should I avoid using gestures, too?" Vera'Thral had spoken of Jedi Masters moving their hands when using the Force, and Yulie wondered if that counted as using her hands. The stone that was offered to her remained unmoving beneath Yulie's stares

@Reyn

 

[Izel Thral]

Yulie said that she could manage it, although her tone suggested she wasn't entirely sure of herself. It didn't matter so much to Izel. So long as the Dathomirian was willing to put the effort in, failure wasn't so important as what she learned from it. All things came with time. The Vratix watched her student promptly catch herself before grasping the stone with her hand and instead using the Force to tug at it, asking if she was still allowed to use gestures when accessing the Force.

"You can use gestures for now." The Jedi Master answered, offering some leniency. "It should help you get the hang of things. Once you're feeling more comfortable with your use of telekinesis you can try it without moving your hands." She would wait to watch the apprentice pull the stone into her grasp, then start walking again. They were nearly to the ship, and no doubt Captain Watam would be wondering what was keeping them. She would make sure her Padawan was following before continuing to speak.

"I wanted to speak more about what you can expect once we reach the temple." She explained as she kept moving. "You'll be provided a room and a few changes of clothes, as well as a schedule for meals, training and personal time." She would glance at the Padawan as she continued. "I'd like to keep you close, at least until you've had time to settle in and find your place with the other students. Remember that not all Jedi you meet will be as mature as the Councilors or Isen and I. Many have faced grievous losses at the hands of the Sith as a result of tis war. Some of them may sense that hint of darkness within you and be wary. You must try to rise above their prejudices, and show them that you are worthy of their trust. We will remain there until I believe you have progressed enough for the Initiate Trials, at which point I will take you to construct your own lightsaber, as Master Har instructed. Any questions?"

@Zohrael

 

[Yulie]

"Any questions?"

How big will my room be? Will I have a roomie? A window? Does it face the rising sun? Will M-4PO be in my room or will he have other duties to tend to? What's the weather like? What do we do for money? How much do meals cost? Can rations be traded for tools, building materials or other provisions? Do I still get meals if I go hunting? Will I be allowed to go hunting if I'm being given meals? Shouldn't the other students rise above their own prejudices? Is it even prejudice if they sense real Darkness? Should I actually be trusted by them? Trials? Are those hard? How many are there? How do they work?

"Well...lots, but I'm sure they'll all be answered when I get there." Most Padawans turned up at Jedi Temples wide-eyed because of flashy swords, impossible feats and monolithic architecture. For Yulie, the possibility of actually being able to sleep in a bed had her excited enough for questions to buzz around in her mind like a swarm of flies. Most didn't remain for very long, vanishing from her thoughts while others shouted their way to the surface, but a few lingered. The prejudices of other students posed questions that she couldn't easily ignore, and nor could she answer. Do they know about what's happening on Dathomir? Have they been told that Sith cannot be Nightsisters? Will they think I'm their enemy?

"I guess I do have one question, though. Do the other students know that I'm on my way?" It was a composite of many questions, but ultimately Yulie was just trying to get a sense of what she should be expecting upon arrival. For the students, would it be a sudden appearance by an unexpected dark presence, or would they have had time to prepare themselves? She imagined that opinions would be harder to change if the other students had time to form them fully ahead of time, but reactions more extreme if they did not. If they had been warned, what might have they been told?

She pictured one scenario where some of the more curious students would want to learn as much as they could about the mysterious sect that were the Nightsisters and surround her, transfixed with wonder, but Yulie dismissed that possibility. She knew very little and probably wouldn't be able to hold their attention for very long, plus there was the matter of their reputation. Until the Jedi debriefed her, they knew only that Yulie's people had become mortal enemies. It was more likely that none of the students would want to be anywhere near her. That was okay, though. Yulie was well accustomed to living at the bottom of the social ladder. A friendly welcome would be more difficult to navigate.

As they approached the ship, Captain Watam proudly looked up at the decal of a grey phoenix on the underside of the wing, taking only a moment's pause to glance at the sound of approach persons before giving a final nod of approval to the emblem. Touching it with his hands as if to tell it goodbye, he scooped up a pail of soapy water and headed towards the ramp.

"I'd ask what took so damn long, but seeing that a teenage girl just got back from shopping, the proper question is why you're back so damn early."

"I am M-4PO---"

"Really don't care."

"Don't take it personally. The Captain's in one of his better moods."

M-4PO's head perked up at the word 'Captain', but after watching for a while the droid decided it wasn't protocol to salute him.

@Reyn

 

[Izel Thral]

Izel could sense the mingling excitement and nerves coming from Yulie as she wondered over her future with the Jedi, although she kept her questions characteristically limited. In the end she seemed most concerned with what kind of reception she was going to receive from the other Padawans upon their arrival.

"Very unlikely," Izel answered after giving it some thought. "The temple has been getting quite busy with an influx of non-Force sensitive security forces. There are people coming and going often. We'll likely arrive with no special attention at all. I can imagine the Council might inform some of the temple guards, who'd probably be keen to keep an eye on you, But I think it's safe to assume they'll trust my judgement in bringing you there. As for the other students, you don't need to worry about being subjected to groups of people singling you out or anything like that. Training for Padawans is not a one size fits all system. Every master, er, teacher is within their authority to create whatever curriculum they believe will best serve their Padawan. Meaning exercises may be done entirely in private, or with others. If I were to say have you spar with another Padawan, I'd make sure first that they weren't the type to be antagonistic. Our aim after all is to teach you, not make you miserable." She glanced at Yulie, clicking thoughtfully again. "Although, I'd still encourage you to try and interact with you fellow Padawans, at your own pace. A sense of camaraderie is important for every Jedi. Your life may depend on them one day. You should make sure they're people you can trust completely." The Vratix then looked down at the ground as they kept walking, thinking back to a few of her own friends who she trusted. People that she'd gladly risk her life for any day. She wondered where they had gone.

As they entered the hangar, Captain Watam's response to their arrival was about what Izel expected. She only chittered with some amusement at the back and forth between the droid and both the pilot and her Padawan. "We're ready to go Captain," She said. "Whenever you're ready."

"Thank the Force..." Watam replied dryly before turning to make his way up the ramp. "Kid, make sure that hyperdrive is running clean while I start us up. She was giving me some trouble earlier." He ordered the Dathomirian without looking back. While M-4PO made his way onto the ship, grumbling about poor discipline, Izel looked at Yulie.

"Well, next stop is the Jedi Temple." She said with a sigh, thinking back on all that had happened since the beginning of her long journey away from home. All the experiences she had with Isen, and her meeting with Yulie. It had been quite the ride, but she was relieved to finally be returning to the Order. "There's no turning back once we leave this docking bay..." She didn't expect her new apprentice's answer to be anything different, but still, she felt compelled to ask. "Are you ready for this?"

@Zohrael

 

[Yulie]

"Will do, Captain." Yulie nodded. 'Some trouble' was nothing too specific, but the mechanic now took the Captain's unhelpful statements as signs of his confidence in her instead of thinking that he couldn't bear to be around her long enough to explain things in greater detail. She could always quietly ask him a few questions later if the problem refused to present itself.

"Are you ready for this?"

Yulie hesitated in answering, almost replying with a confidant but non-committal "I'm ready to find out.", or some other cautious arrangement of words to hide behind. When one isn't permitted the most basic self-expression, it becomes a survival skill to assemble inoffensive phrases that submit to her circumstances. Better still if they allow her betters to project their expectations upon her, yet at the same time give herself enough room to be able to honour her commitments to the letter even if she fell short of those expectations.

She hadn't forgotten her skirmish aboard the skiff. Yulie believed she was ready for it then, but the taste of blood and the serrated embrace of pain impelled her savagery to claw its way from the dark depths of her mind to the surface of her thoughts. Holding herself back was like riding a comet that she could barely cling to. That struggle had angered her Vera, but Yulie was no Jedi that day. If she were asked again if she were a liar for saying that she was ready, the excuses of yesterday would be much emptier.

On Umbara, her eagerness had been poisoned by thoughts of payback and the fear of being useless. On Kashyyyk, it felt different this time. She felt like she was actually ready instead of just wanting to be, and it felt that she'd make a liar out of herself if she pretended otherwise.

"I am." She said, surprised at her own sincerity. There'd be no backing down now; no withering before a challenge or whining about how hard it was. Such a blunt answer left no loophole for that, though she sensed that she wouldn't try looking for one anyways.

"Not until the hyperdrive is fixed, you aren't." The Captain's voice echoed.

"Won't be long, Captain." Yulie called back. Damn hyperdrives, there was always something that wasn't working quite right. The most sophisticated of the important tech and starship manufacturers kept treating them like one size fit all. They should be perfectly calibrated for a ship's size and mass, with specs to compliment the engines and perform for the needs of the starship's class. Instead, it seemed like they were installed based only with power consumption and top speed in mind.

Yulie doubted the problem was so acute, however. More likely it was because Alsuna's men treated the ship like every button had to be slammed with a closed fist. Wear-and-tear was probably making things less responsive than the Captain liked; buttons sticking, switches that need to be flickered a few times, dials that kept falling off, levers that didn't have the proper resistance. Little things like those during a startup sequence make for fussy engines, but fortunately that sort of repair work wouldn't take too long.

"I feel more in control of my abilities, and my path is clearer to me now. I'm sure whatever happens next won't be easy, but I'm ready to try, fail, learn, and succeed." The other Padawans, though... "I just hope I make a good impression. If I am to bridge relations between the Jedi and the Nightsisters, I suppose it will begin with my comrades."

@Reyn

 

[Izel Thral]

Izel watched Yulie silently for a few moments after receiving her answer, then nodded in acknowledgement. "Good." She replied with satisfaction. "You look ready." She would give her Padawan a reassuring pat on the shoulder before following her onto the ship. There were some minor repairs that might need doing apparently, but those were no real issue. As Yulie spoke about her commitment to her training and the Jedi path, Izel's antennae twitched slightly, getting a sense of her emotions. There was nervousness there for sure, and fear. But more then that was the rising determination, and the roots of newfound confidence within herself. That was a very pleasing thing to feel coming from the self-conscious Dathomirian.

"You won't be alone." She assured her apprentice. "I will be there for you wherever I can be. And when I am not, you will never be without an ally. The Force will always be with you." The loading ramp lifted and Captain Watam began running through the ship's startup sequence, checking the systems. "You should check the hyperdrive." She said, nodding towards the back of the ship. "Wouldn't want to crash into a star along the way would we?" She added with a chitter before making her way towards her room. She would close herself off to rest and do some meditation as soon as she could. She had to start planning a curriculum for her new student after all...

/Exit Thread
@Zohrael

 

[Yulie]

"Definitely don't want that." Yulie said with a nod, but then turned to M-4PO when Vera'Thral left. "That's just a myth, right? Ships don't actually crash into stars from Hyperspace, do they?"

"Would you like to know the wartime statistics for solar collisions?"

"No, I'm pretty sure I'd rather think of anything but that."

"It is in my experience that organics do not like contemplating such risks. One would think they would do a better job to avoid taking them in the first place."

Yulie opted to think about other things until it came time to doing her job. If that made her like every other organic, at least she wouldn't have to fret about wanting to avoid having an existential crisis.

A real bed. Yulie thought to herself as she walked towards the engine room, wishing that she asked some of the questions that she had kept to herself. She would just have to find out whenever the Jedi assigned some quarters to her, but even if they wouldn't provide any bedding, she could sew a sheet around a pile of dry leaves and sleep on the sack. If her betters allowed her to go hunting, she could even use animal pelt, make something really soft. Her corner was warm, but the ground was hard.

When she entered the room, she went into the routine of kicking off her boots, stepping upon on one heel so she'd slide out easier, but stopped when her eyes fell to her corner. Instead of barren sheet of metal waiting to greet her, a blanket had been folded. It felt soft, with short, synthetic fur that had the colour of gunmetal. Draping it over her arms, a pale design on the outside made itself apparent: a grey phoenix.

"The Captain must have made this..." Yulie said for M-4PO's sake, tracing her finger over the design. The fibres had the same texture, but their consistency was a little different. She could visualize the creative process, the Captain carving out a stencil with a knife, and then over-ironing the cutouts until it bleached out some of the colour. That's how she would have done it, anyway. "He must have been really bored waiting for us to get back."

"Actually, I just wanted you to have something to remind you of the time you spent here." Yulie just about jumped out of her skin when the Captain's voice came through the speaker. It was only now that she noticed some electrical tape was holding down the button for communicating with the cockpit. "A little piece of home. I was able to recover a few cargo containers from the wreckage of our old ship; after sleeping on the floor for so long, I don't think anyone deserves it more than you."

"Thank you, Captain. I don't know what to say."

"It's fine so long as it isn't overly sentimental."

"I'm not the one making goodbye gifts." Yulie smirked.

"Just let me know when the damn hyperdrive is ready."

"Aye, aye, Captain." Yulie said, tearing off the electrical tape.

She approached the engine, readying a list of checks in her mind and the diagnostics she'd have to run. A little piece of home. She thought to herself. You like to touch whatever you're working with. It helps you get a sense of the object. She remembered. Instead of pulling out her tools and getting elbow-deep into the ship's heart, she simply placed both hands on the engine and closed her eyes.

I am far from the sacred places of my ancestors, I am far from the bones of my people, but I have had many homes. On worlds behind me and worlds ahead, and now among the stars. While engineers create new technologies and scrappers destroy, I do both in the name of sustaining what others have built. Duality...it was getting easier to recognize as well as connect with. As she reached out with the Force, Yulie whispered to the engine.

"Alright, girl, show me where it hurts." The ship revealed itself to her as though it were an extension of her own body. The hull was her skin, the bulkheads were her bones. She could feel the air pumping through the carbon scrubbers and circulating through the ship just as sure as she could feel it filling her lungs. Imperfections felt like knots in her back, things that needed tending to but weren't a priority. Where she felt stiff, a door wouldn't close as smoothly as it should. Where she itched, something needed to be rewired.

And then there was the lever to punch the ship into Hyperspace. Alsuna's men had been rough with it, leaning into it with too much of their body weight as they cranked the lever forward, stripping metal at weak points that needed to be in correct alignment to work properly. And as surely as this made the controls less responsive, they must have compensated by leaning into it even harder.

The Captain had a gentler touch, however. Even though he was a bit of a slob, he respected the ships that he flew, and he handled them with care. The Grey Phoenix wasn't trained to answer to that. Like an abused animal that didn't get to know a kind hand, it responded hesitantly, if at all, to being treated this way.

"I know what that's like." Yulie said. Okay, let's try fixing this with proper Telekinesis, otherwise I'm going to have to take apart the whole assembly from the dashboard. It wasn't a proper use of the Technique, not exactly, but it almost was. As Yulie reached out with the Force, the ship was like a medium that she was reaching through. She was in direct contact with the engine, which was in direct contact the hyperdrive, which was in direct contact with its regulator, which was in direct contact with a power junction, etc. Each time she moved through one layer that was in direct contact with the next, it felt like she was in direct contact with that, and so it went all the way to the manual components in the dashboard assembly.

Bolts loosened so new washers could slip in, then they tightened as metal framework aligned with immaculate precision. After a few minutes of micro-adjustments, the job was done. The lever would now offer the proper resistance to being pushed forward, and the hyperdrive would smoothly accelerate in perfect harmony.

Yulie pressed down on the comm button.

"She's all ready, Captain. Hit my music."

The engine always played a different melody as it transitioned to Hyperspace, and though she had no window to look out of, when it reached its crescendo she knew the stars would be stretched into chaotic streaks of light.

/exit thread
@Reyn