JEDI TRIALS:


The Trial of Skill.

Written by:
Anthony Hummerston.

STARRING:

Karnov and Niall.
-And special guest stars:
Master Junn and Mistress Tisha Luce.
-And everyone else in supporting roles.

In the cantina D’ampezzo. Karnov and Niall are a table, sipping blue Bantha milk and waiting for their next tasks.

“I wonder what the others are up to?” Karnov wonders.

“Kory and Mama are probably scamming the local population out of their hard-earned credits.”

“What about Rojic and Joe-9T?”

“Probably doing the same, only moreso!”

“-And Jimmi?”

“Um…..Probably massaging away the ruffled feathers of those that have been scammed.”

At another table in the cantina, Mistress Luce and Master Junn are talking. The conversation between the two Jedi is taking its usual turn:

“I don’t know why you can’t use your own training methods with Karnov.” Mistress Luce points out to Junn, sounding exasperated.

“Because, that part of my memory, -indeed most of my memory- was scrambled while I was in captivity. I was hoping that I could adopt your training methods while I tried to work it through.”

Mistress Luce doesn’t agree entirely. “I can see the logic….. But what works for Niall will not necessarily work between you and Karnov.”

“I am aware of that. But the alternative -restarting her training with another master- will put her back months if not years. Coupled with which, the council are under increasing pressure to provide commanders for the clone army. Their officers are only so good –But they need the wisdom and experience of Jedi to lead them.”

Mistress Luce considers Junn’s words. She glances at Karnov. She resists both brains screaming at her to say out loud, “We are so humped!”

She is not happy. “I will endeavour to speak with the council on this matter.”

Junn is impatient. “That may take weeks to arrange….! We don’t have the luxury of time!”

Mistress Luce concedes his point. “I suppose I might fill you in on the details of my next test. –After all it’s a padawan’s skill with a lightsabre under the spotlight, and not something of deep spirituality or philosophy.”

“I suppose it’ll be a two-brain-problem….” Junn says, rather pointedly, when she falls silent. Mistress Luce gives him a withering look. “Don’t try my patience, Master Junn. I could easily test your skills with a lightsabre.”

“My apologies. “ Junn says, putting his hand over his heart. Though mentally he’s crossing his fingers, and thinking of a very rude word.

Cantina D'ampezzo.

Niall and Karnov look over. “I’m starting to think that learning lip-reading might be a good idea.” Niall says. “What do you think is going on?”

Karnov is thinking out loud. This makes her lips move as well. “I wonder if I could plant one of Rojic’s listening devices….?”

“You wouldn’t!”

“You’re right of course,” Karnov says, turning back to Niall. “It’d be against everything the Jedi stand for.”

Niall is several steps ahead of her, “….But Rojic isn’t a Jedi. He has the scruples of a rabid Nexu.”

Karnov raises both hands. “Don’t tempt me!”

They look back and watch, trying to gauge what is in store for them.

“I expect they’re trying to find a novel way of killing one another.” Karnov says, eventually.

“That’s not the Jedi way either.” Niall reminds him.

“That’s your mistress talking.” Karnov replies.

“Maybe I’m learning after all!”

Karnov pauses to think. It is a very long pause. Finally she says, “Actually, sometimes I think that I’m the master and Junn is the student….”

Mistress Luce digs into a pocket. She withdraws a shiny metallic sphere, the size of a marble. “Here. You’ll need several thousand of these.” She passes it over. “Enough to cover the floor of a training room, -though not so they’re jammed in, but still difficult to walk on. – Then you can devise any tricks you see fit. Moving, lifting, making patterns using the force, and of course, lightsabre agility. You can use your control of the force against Karnov’s skill with a lightsabre, and vice-versa.”

Junn thinks for a minute. “Good against remotes is one thing….”

“I think that both our students have had plenty of experience against living opponents. -They’ve been on active service for some years already.”

Junn concedes this point. “Actually there is a test they might not have come across. That of an untrained combatant with a lightsabre.”

“I simulated that with Niall some time ago….” Mistress Luce tells him. “-Though it might be good to repeat it. -I’ll think on it.”

Junn scoffs. “I’m sure I can easily unlearn all my lightsabre training….It’s the benefit of having only the one brain….”

Mistress Luce has a riposte at his barbed comment. “Be sure Karnov doesn’t teach you a thing or two….”

“I dare say she will…” Junn concedes, fuming inside. After a moment, he leans forward. “Hey, I’ve got an idea…..”

When their abrasive negotiations are over, the two Jedi call their students over, and take more of the shiny spheres from their pockets. In unison they throw the shiny metal balls at Niall and Karnov. Niall instinctively goes for his lightsabre at the aggressive act, but actually catches Mistress Luce’s missile in his hand. Karnov channels the force and the marble hovers in front of her. She waves her hand and drops the marble into a nearby cup of half-finished Bantha milk.

Master Junn piles on the pressure. “Good against a single missile is one thing….Wait until there are a thousand of them, all going at high velocity.” Karnov looks at him, “I hope you’re not planning to fire them from a gun….”

“No. It’s lightsabre training…..” Junn explains. “-But that gives me an idea! Come on. Let’s get started!”

Mistress Luce waits for them to depart before gently scolding Niall. “Always eager to meet violence with violence? You still have a lot to learn.”

“But I caught your missile.” Niall protests.

“True. But your anger is still dominant.”

“I’m working on it, Mistress.”

“Be sure that you do. – You’ll not need it for the test that I’ve devised. You’ll be concentrating so much; you’ll not have room for anger or emotion. -Just skill.”

“I’m ready!” Niall says with confidence.

“I hate to quote Master Junn, but…..Let’s get started!”

Mistress Luce sweeps her robe dramatically. Niall doesn’t bother. –Though he is tempted. Together they walk regally out of the cantina. Behind them, someone starts choking fitfully on his Bantha milk.

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The atmosphere aboard Storm Cutter is thick with tension. It is also thick with death-stick smoke. Joe-9T pops out an eye and rubs it with a cloth. It doesn’t improve visibility at all. He pops it back.

Around the table an intense game of contract sabacc is going on. –Nearly as intense as the conversation.

Rojic and Joe-9T are pitting their wits against Mama and Colonel D’Estrella. These games are becoming a bit of a regular feature, giving them all a chance to escape their day-jobs. –Or rather giving D’Estrella a chance to escape his day-job. As Rojic points out, “I’ve never done an honest day’s work in my life. –And I don’t expect to do so any time soon, either.”

Mama agrees. “I’ve had honest jobs, -but the pay isn’t as good.”

The colonel disagrees. “Oh come now. The Republic navy is a good job. -I get a steady wage.”

“Are your family still forwarding you several thousand credits a week?”

The colonel concedes. “…Well…..Actually…..Yes….”

“Good. Then you won’t start crying when Rojic takes you to the cleaners….Again!”

D’Estrella thinks. He takes a sip of drink. “Of course if it were a game of logic, and mathematical probability, then the droid would win every time.”

“Well, of course a droid’s only as good as its programmer.” Rojic says proudly, patting Joe-9T’s back.

D’Estrella isn’t so sure about Joe-9T. “I heard a rumour that his core brain functions were programmed by the Sith.”

“Pfft! Nonsense…” Rojic responds, but then adds, “-Although if he suddenly draws a lightsabre and cuts you into chunks, at least you’ll be able to say ‘I told you so.’”

“Talking of drawing….” Mama prompts, “Are you going to have another card or not?”

Rojic apologises. “Sorry, yes.” He takes a card and looks at it. “Hmmm…..”

Joe-9T turns toward him. “I can tell from the slight variation in the frequency of your sigh …..That you’re bluffing.”

Rojic turns angrily on the droid. “Why don’t you go tell everyone? –Stupid!”

“I’m sorry sir. I didn’t mean to give the game away.”

Mama and D’Estrella exchange a glance. The colonel isn’t taken in. “Nice try Rojic, but I recall that Joe-90 said exactly the same thing last game….Programming him to bluff that you’re bluffing only muddies the waters….”

“Clouds the air….” Mama interrupts, waving a particularly dense cloud of death-stick smoke around.

“But it doesn’t wash with us. –even dressing it up on a rainy day.” The colonel concludes, mixing the metaphor even more.

Rojic looks defeated. “I’m going to have to try harder, aren’t I?”

“Yes you are.”

“I hate games that you have to play fairly.” He sulks.

“I heard you played fair when you went into town to visit Kory.”

“That you did, sir.” Joe-9T reminds Rojic.

“Not even taking a jewel-encrusted spying device.” Mama reminds them. “–You’re letting the side down, Rojic.”

Rojic smiles. He puffs on his death stick, and plays the hand. “Raise five.” The others look at their cards and raise him to seven.

Rojic looks pleased. “Of course I played to lose at Kory’s place…. I lost about six hundred and fifty.”

“I don’t know why you bothered. That crew were shipping off world the next morning.”

“True. But I think Kory did okay. She managed to take them all for a ride…..”

Unseen across the thick smoke, D’Estrella’s eyebrows shoot up.

Rojic lets the comment float in the thick air for a second or two… “Fleeced them good and proper, I mean.” D’Estrella lets out a relived: “Phew!”

Rojic looks pleased with himself. “Of course I might have hinted that they might have been involved in running slaves…..” D’Estrella is shocked. Rojic can’t see the colonel’s reaction through the haze and merrily continues.

“Yeah, she took ‘em for thousands. –Even directed them to the cantina D’Oggsblix. –Now there’s a hive of scum and villainy.”

D’Estrella is feeling a little uncomfortable. “I’m sure that I shouldn’t be hearing this…..”

“You’re a bad Toydarian.” Mama scolds Rojic. “Bad, bad, bad Toydarian. I should send you to your room.”

“-That’s where I get all my best ideas!” Rojic quips. Joe-9T makes a gurgling sound, like he’s laughing.

“Something wrong with your droid?” The colonel asks.

“No, but he’s not killed anyone in an hour. He may be getting a wee bit twitchy.”

D’Estrellla tries to figure it out. “Maybe he’s still computing the old double-droid-not-bluffing-but-actually-bluffing-reverse-bluff-de-buff-trick.”

Joe-9T looks impassive. -His best Sabacc face- “Gets ‘em every time sir!”

“Anyway….” D’Estrella says, flipping over his cards. “I had an idea you were bluffing, but maybe not. I can’t take the chance. -I fold.” Mama looks at her cards and sighs. “Me too.”

Rojic is solemn. Then he slowly takes the stack of credit chips. Then he whoops. “Got ‘em again old boy!” He says to Joe-9T. He flaps closer. They bump fists.

D’Estralla looks anguished. “I know I’m a respectable officer of the Republic…..” Mama snorts. He ignores her. “…..But I wonder if I could I still flush Rojic’s head….Down the head?”

Mama sighs. “Trouble is, it’s blue….And Rojic is blue…..”

“Shame. Damn shame.” D’Estrella looks at his datapad and checks his schedule. “Time for one more game? –Only this time I’d prefer if Rojic partnered with Hen3ry.”

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Jimmi knocks on a door frame and steps through. Kory calls from behind a shipping crate. “Be right there!”

“No hurry.” Jimmi calls back and settles into a comfy chair. “How are things going?”

“Well, it’s an honest job for once….” Kory says, stepping out from behind the crate with a datapad in her hand. “I’ve got my own office. A team of droids, a bodyguard, and my own desk and chair…..Which you’re sitting in.”

“I couldn’t see another one….” Jimmi apologises. Kory hops up onto a crate. “In answer to your question, it’s going fine. The colonel said it’d be a blue-milk run….And so far he was correct.”

“So what do you do here exactly?”

“Well, the official line is that I’m a quartermaster for the clone army. ‘Course so long as I keep them supplied, no-one’s interested in what else goes in and out of the warehouse. -After all, there’s a whole battalion of civilians helping the war effort. –Besides, The droids do most of the work, and it gives me a chance to do a little trading on the side….And an excuse to wander freely around the planet when I choose.” She pauses to think. “Oh, and to do a few runs out to military bases and such. I meet and greet people, fleece a few of the less savoury ones…..For the war effort of course. -How about you?”

“I’m kinda itinerant, also….” Jimmi replies.

“Don’t you mean irritant? -You should think about swapping your massage oil.”

Jimmi ignores her jibe. “There are several things taking my time. I have a small role as a diplomatic advisor. I entertain the troops…..” Jimmi smiles, aware that this last comment will raise eyebrows. “Singing, dancing, doing jokes, impressions. The clones love it. They never really had anyone but their brother clones, nor do they know any other life than the military….” Jimmi sighs, “–I almost feel sorry for them.”

Kory considers for a moment. “So are you some kind of forces’ sweetheart?”

Jimmi pretends to mishear. “Forces sweatshirt?….No.”

Kory muses. “Strange. I didn’t figure you for a clone-army poster boy…Or girl.”

“I’m all things to all clones.” Jimmi says proudly.

“You must know a thousand clone jokes.” Kory says.

“Yep, but there all the same…!”

Kory tries not to laugh. She picks up her datapad. “I’ll put a tumbleweed on back-order shall I?”

Jimmi looks glum. “Tough crowd!”

“I bet you say that at all your stand-up gigs.”

“Ha! Ha!”

“No ‘ha ha’ isn’t something anyone would say about your jokes.” Kory tells Jimmi.

She smirks. Uncannily, Jimmi points to the ‘no smirking’ sign over the door. Kory reminds Jimmi that their alter-egos did this joke before.

“Actually,” Jimmi says, I’ve got a rhyme about clones.”

Kory sighs. “Oh, go on then….”

“Mary had a little lamb, its fleece was slightly grey,

It didn't have a father, just some borrowed DNA.

It sort of had a mother, though the ovum was on loan,

It was not so much a lambkin, as a little lamby clone.

And soon it had a fellow clone, and soon it had some more.

They followed her to school one day, all cramming through the door.

It made the children laugh and sing, the teachers found it droll,

There were too many lamby clones, for Mary to control.

No other could control the sheep, since their programs didn't vary,

So the scientists resolved it all, by simply cloning Mary!

But now they feel quite sheepish; those scientists unwary,

One problem solved, but what to do, with Mary, Mary, Mary?”

Kory giggles. “Actually that’s very clever. But what about the clones?”

“They love it.”

Kory thinks for a minute. “I’ve heard form a source that we could be off on a mission soon…. -With a squad of clones.”

“Who told you that?”

“A source.”

“What kind of source?”

“The kind you don’t squirt on your chips.”

Jimmi sees. “Aha!”

“Actually, I met mister right the other day.” Kory goes on.

“You actually met mister right? -You’re gonna break a lot of hearts, Kory.”

“Not the mister right. A mister ‘Right.’”

“Who’s he then? -When he’s not at home?”

“He’s a Lieutenant in the army. Nice chap. The other clones call him ‘Right.’”

“Coz he’s a right….um….” Jimmi struggles to think of a reason why.

“Because he’s right handed. Ninety-nine percent of the clones are left-handed.”

“Can’t say I’d ever noticed.” Jimmi says, with a hint of irony.

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Master Junn waits patiently at the Coruscant taxi rank at the edge of the works. A gentle breeze blows up from the depths below the ledge. There is a considerable drop down, and no rail, or guard or even a yellow warning line to warn of the danger. Junn steps closer to the edge. Karnov arrives in the hover-taxi and deftly jumps out. In the cargo well is a large heavy box, about two feet cubed. Instead of reaching over and collecting the box, she uses the force. The box rises slowly and is deposited at Junn’s feet.

“Heavy?” Junn asks.

“Yes, master.”

“Good.”

Junn scans the box. “You know you could have got a droid to load and unload.” Junn tells Karnov, as he reaches into the box and takes out a sample.

“Who needs droids when you’ve got the force?”

Junn is about to say something rude, but changes his mind. “True. A Jedi uses the force to aid him.”

Karnov thinks about this. “That’s pretty lame. -If you don’t mind me saying.”

Junn laughs. It isn’t a sound that Karnov is very familiar with. He claps her on the back in a friendly manner. “Ready?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Now move the box to the edge. –You can use the force.” He tells her with a glint in his eye.

Karnov does so. The box moves. “Now, take your lightsabre…..-And in one smooth downward stroke, slice off the end of the box.”

Karnov steps to one side. Now she can feel a strong breeze from below. The sounds of machines and industry drift up. It smells of unwashed bodies, burning refuse, decay, filth and some things best left unidentified.

“There may even be a writer’s block down there somewhere.” Junn observes, almost breaking the fourth wall.

Karnov hazards a glance. Several hundreds of feet down are pipes and gutters and girders and tubes -all part of Coruscant’s extensive utilities networks. – Below that are factories and dens and hideouts. Somewhere far below that it is rumoured that there are mutant creatures, abominations and horrors. She puts it from her mind, and turns to Junn.

“Now!” Junn indicates that it is time to strike. In a deft move, Karnov unclips the weapon, ignites the blade, cuts through the box, and returns the lightsabre to her belt.

[DELETED SCENE: After an embarrassing moment of falling rapidly to the ground, she switches it off and looks for her foot.]

The contents of the box spill out.

Over one-hundred-thousand shiny spheres bounce and roll out of the box, and over the lip of the taxi rank in a sea of shiny metal. Then like a waterfall, they cascade down below. Little silver balls bounce, rattle, ping and clatter like a massive pachinko machine. Karnov suspects what is coming next.

Junn pulls a sack out of his backpack. “Off you go. -I want them all back.”

Karnov groans inwardly. She goes to pick up the remaining spheres still nestling in the bottom of the box. However, Junn steps in front of her and with a kick, sends the remaining thousand or so off the edge.

Karnov tries to remain calm, but there is an edge to her voice. “I thought we were training with lightsabres.”

“You’ll get enough practice down below….I’m sure the monsters don’t take too kindly to being pelted with marbles. Report back to me when you’re done.” With this, Junn hops into the taxi and it disengages from the mooring post. “See you later!” He calls as a final shot. Out of sight of Karnov, he pockets the last of the silvery balls. Under Karnov’s foot is a single shiny sphere. She puts it in the sack, and sighs. “One….”

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In another time and in another place, Mistress Luce follows Niall into a training room at the academy. A droid trundles along behind her, carrying another of the boxes of shiny spheres. She waits patiently as the droid passes through the door, and deposits the box. “Thank you.” She tells it. “You may go.” The droid is a simple loading droid. It beeps to show that it has understood and trundles out. Niall turns around. “Funny how you rarely hear people thanking droids.”

“I’ve done it since I was a girl.” Mistress Luce admits, looking slightly embarrassed. “Old habits die hard and all that….” She tails off.

Niall is slightly struck by her words. He turns away, his thoughts unsaid.

In the end he says, “I must try it sometime. I usually think of them as mobile machines. They’re usually either programmed to help you or kill you, in my experience.” His mistress nods.

Niall recites something he remembers. “Droids are made to scrap, soldiers are born to die. The tactical problem of breaking off is the actual running away; the threat of getting shot in the back makes holding on for a lucky shot more appealing….”

There is another awkward silence. In the end Mistress Luce turns to the box. “A hundred thousand of these….” She says, lifting the lid with the force and extracting a single silver ball.

With the force, she lets it hover between them. “Focus…..” Niall nods to show that he understands. “-And follow my lead.” She says, “Keep it in mind. Concentrate. Then, with the lightsabre, cut it in two.”

Niall levitates his own silver sphere. He holds it in front of him. A moment later and his blade ignites, and slices the ball in two pieces.

Mistress Luce lets them fall, and after allowing them a few seconds to cool, levitates the two pieces to her hand to inspect them.

“Not bad. -A bit off centre, -but not bad…!”

One after another, more shiny silver spheres are levitated. Niall follows. Mistress Luce levitates hers, slowly at first, and then faster. She starts the others rotating in a ring, quickly adding more and more. Niall tries to keep up. Soon there are hundreds of the dancing spheres between them.

Mistress Luce indicates the next stage, talking casually, and smoothing her hair as the spheres whirl in patterns around her.

“Now. Keep those in that formation…… And select one…..Feel its presence in the force and its position in the formation. Then when you are ready, draw your lightsabre and cut that one in two.”

Niall focuses on one of the spheres. He keeps the others levitated and in tight formation. They circle around in front of him. When he thinks he is ready, he ignites the blade. A second later two neat halves fall to the ground.....

–Followed by several hundred shiny balls! They rattle and roll along the floor, making movement a little hazardous.

Mistress Luce gives him the benefit of the doubt. “You weren’t really ready. Try again.” Niall becomes calm. He levitates all the spheres. He picks out a single one, and this time the others do not fall when he cuts the sphere in two. His mistress claps delightedly. “It usually takes a month for a student to get that far…. Now you have to work on the movement. Every one of the spheres must move in its own path. Start with a small number and add more as you feel confident.”

“Sounds simple enough.”

“It is. If there is one thing that this teaches, it is patience. A cool head helps too. If you approach this with anger, the spheres start bouncing off the walls and injuring you…..Bear that in mind.”

“I will.”

“Good. -Of course with two brains, you can use one for levitation and one for combat....”

Niall gives a wry grin, as she continues. “I suppose you could use left and right hemisheres....” She muses, “Or however you care to configure your puny brain....Take your time. When you think that you have something to show me, we can take it to the next level – Deflecting missiles, striking the spheres, attack and defence, and sparring with one’s partner.”

Niall protests, “But I don’t have a sparring partner....”

“Yes you do….” She grins at him. “-Partner!”

About a week later, Nialll and Mistress Luce are in the chamber again. Like the reflections of a glitter-ball, the shiny spheres whirl in intricate patterns, looping and weaving, Niall stands in the centre of the room. He hardly needs to see, as he has practiced this diligently for hours at a time. His initial frustrations have been ground down, polished away. Now for the fun to begin! Almost before he hears it, he senses Mistress Luce take up a defensive stand and ignite her lightsabre. Niall stifles a gasp. The room is lit up by the weapon, and takes on the hue of jade. Not quite blue, and yet not quite green. “I’ll strike at the spheres.” She tells him. “You dodge them out of the way. Ready?”

Niall nods his assent. The battle begins.

After hours of sparring, Niall’s head is pounding with the effort. Mistress Luce powers down her lightsabre. “Rest. Reflect. Let the experience grow inside you. Nurture it.” She tells him, softly and puts a hand on his arm. He sinks to the floor to meditate.

The next day, their roles are reversed. Mistress Luce controls the spinning spheres, as Niall neatly slices them from the air as they dance. Mistress Luce makes the spheres pelt him every time, until he is fuming. “Let it go, Niall! The more you rage the more it hurts you!” Niall sees sense. He digs deep, and his anger subsides. He starts scoring hits. “Good!” She encourages him. This lifts his spirits. His attacks become more precise and he scores more hits. “Put it all together: Attack, defence, awareness. The spheres, you, the weapon, the force…. Let the force flow through you…..” She encourages. Moments later they are sparring at a furious rate. The spinning spheres dancing, weaving, whirling, darting, bobbing between them. Deflected, sliced, cut, moved, dodged directed, parried. Their lightsabres light up the chamber in glittering colours until Niall is lost in the maelstrom. The force flowing through them both is almost palpable in the room. The exercise becomes more and more intense, slowly reaching a crescendo. An hour later, and Niall can take no more. His strength ebbs and he lowers his guard. Sensing his tiredness, Mistress Luce signals him to stop.

“Feel it?” Mistress Luce asks, excitedly, her eyes shining.

Niall nods. Suddenly he hasn’t the energy to speak, to think or even to stand any more. His emotions won’t help him. He tries in vain to summon some vestige of anger, but he’s completely drained. Mistress Luce stops the exercise. The spheres stop their chaotic dance, and float lazily in a multi-faceted ball. She sits down beside him as he sinks to the floor. His mind is filled with white noise and white heat….

She speaks softly. “Fear, anger, rage. –Those are the resources of the dark side.” She tells him. “–And they are more powerful. -But they are only finite resources. When one relies solely on the light side, one has the power of the galaxy to call upon.”

Her words slowly sink in. Niall finally manages to gasp, “The star that burns twice as bright…..Burns half as long?”

“That is it. –You still have to come to terms with your anger. Find the root cause. – The grain of salt in the cup of water that taints the whole glass.”

Niall nods. It is all he can do for now.

In time his inner strength returns. He feels more at ease with himself. Mistress Luce is sparring by herself. She calls over gently. “Time for some tea. And reflection on what you have learned today. Tomorrow we’ll do four hours.” Niall hasn’t the strength to groan.

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Karnov is sitting on a convenient pile of refuse. There is nothing but refuse in the bowels of the planet. It is so dark down here that no natural light can penetrate. Her eyes have grown used to the darkness. She has fought and battled and scrapped her way to collecting many of the shiny spheres, but several thousand still elude her. She starts thinking back to Master Junn’s teaching on Kegan. –Selecting the one stone out of millions from the depths of the ocean….. That might be possible in the sea, but down here, there are other forces at work. She kicks out at a broken piece of pottery. It is a mug that poses a question, “What would Jabba do?”

“What would he do?” She muses, idly.

Karnov thinks for a while. -She doesn’t know the notorious Hutt.

She turns the question in her mind. “Okay….What would a Jedi do….?”

That proves to be too much for Karnov’s little brain. She goes back to the original question.

“Jabba would be at home in the filth and slime, but there’s no way he’d stoop to pick up shiny metal balls. Not unless they were pure Mandalorian Iron. –No he’d have his minions pick them up for him. –And gloat.”

After a while a thought pops into Kanov’s head. “Minions!” She shouts. Several things slither in the darkness. “Minions!” Karnov whispers. “Why do a job when your minions can do it for you…..? -And therefore that answers both the Jedi and the Jabba question….”

Some time later, Karnov is talking with a demonic-looking creature. In broken Huttese, she tells it. “Mi bosco de balla-so minna Pateessa.. Nah fetcha todo Karnov, Eniki?” ^{[ 67 ]}

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Two weeks later, Niall is laying out lightsabre parts on a large table. Mistress Luce has been watching him intently. He has managed to gather several different lightsabres and has also gathered more materials.

“How did your foraging go?” Luce asks him.

“Fine. I travelled half the galaxy in a week and a half.” He lists some of the places. “Ord Mantell, Corellia, Trandosha, Naboo,” he pauses and adds, “Cerea…..”

“How is the old country?”

“Can I say…. ‘Charmingly….Retro?’”

Mistress Luce isn’t offended. “I suppose so.”

Niall has finished placing all of his materials in front of him. He selects a few that could become the hilt of the weapon. “I’m not sure whether to go for the military look, or the steam-punk look.”

“You know what the answer to that is.”

“Looks aren’t everything?”

“Exactly!” Mistress Luce comes closer. “Remember that part of your training to become a Jedi is also learning how to train the next in line…..” Something about her closeness disturbs Niall. He suddenly concentrates on a piece of the electronics. Mistress Luce knows that she’s touched upon something.

“Is anything troubling you?”

Niall keeps all emotion out of his voice. “No, Mistress.”

“Then why not talk about it?”

Niall is caught in the trap. He remains motionless for some time, saying nothing, but inwardly wrestling with his feelings.

Mistress Luce breaks the awkward silence. “It’s okay. My former padawan had ‘issues’ -she couldn’t leave her family behind. It’s something we all have to go through…..But I sense that with you there’s something more. You feel….Let down? Disappointed? Betrayed?”

Having hit a nerve, Niall fights to control his anger once again. “I don’t want to discuss it!” He says rather harshly, and starts to leave. With this action, Mistress Luce is granted the insight that she was looking for. “Then go back to the service corps!” She yells at him, stopping him dead in his tracks. “The order has no place for angry young wannabes!”

“I’m supposed to be the champion!” Niall retorts. Furious that he isn’t close enough to tip the table of parts to the floor. He starts to use the force to do so, but something is stopping him.

“Who told you that?” Mistress Luce demands, knowing that he’ll reveal more in a moment of anger than he would in a hundred calm and meaningful chats.

“Him!”

She goads him furhter. “Who?”

“The little green liar!” Niall blurts out.

“-And….?” She doesn’t expect him to answer the question.

The truth is out. Niall’s head swims. His eyes sting with tears. The seal is broken, the emotion pours out. “-And….-And someone I trusted. A friend. A young Jedi…One of the best….He passed me over for some….” Niall’s head pounds with the effort. His biggest darkest secret – the one that he kept so tightly wrapped is starting to unravel.

“Some….?” She prompts.

“Some wannabe-youngling. The one that’s supposed to be the saviour of the Jedi.”

Mistress Luce calms Niall. “So finally we meet the real you….”

Niall is embarrassed. His anger dissipates. There is an empty space there now. Sheepishly, he says, “I said I didn’t want to talk about it.”

“But now you have, we can work on it. Or you can go back to the corps…..And I can tell the little green liar that he was right after all…..”

There is a long pause. They hold one another’s gaze. Niall staggers to his chamber. He goes to close the door, but doesn’t. Mistress Luce gives him some time to collect his composure. Then she comes in and symbolically empties the glass of water into a basin at his bedside. She sits down in a chair.

For now, Niall is at peace with himself. –Some of the burdens of the last few years are starting to lift. He is suddenly exhausted, and sleeps fitfully for a while. When he wakes, Mistress Luce is still in the chair, watching him.

“Feeling stronger?” She asks.

“A little.”

“You’ve a long way to go. And there are a few people we need to see.”

“The little green liar?”

“He’s at the end of the list. –But the most important. For now you must build your strength. I’ll go and talk with him in the meantime.”

“Are you going to tell him he’s a liar?”

“I already did. -To his face.”

Niall is shocked at this news. “Really?”

“Yes really. That is why I wanted you as a padawan. –I’ve got something to prove too. I took a gamble on you. An awful risk. -A very long-shot. I put my entire career, my reputation, -possibly even my life- on the line…..” Her voice cracks a little. “For you....”

Niall turns away, speechless.

Some time later, when he is more composed, he and Mistress Luce are chatting. “Wisdom power, holiness, justice, goodness, and truth are infinite, eternal, and unchangeable.” She explains. “The future is not. -It is in flux. An action, a word, a thought can change many things. I believe that the leader of our order was mistaken. –Gravely mistaken. You may not be the champion he expected, but you’re already a hero many times over. To some that’s a failure, to others that makes a champion. -It all depends on your point of view.”

“-And?” Niall prompts.

“-And his ego is too big to admit it. It’ll be his undoing one day, I’m sure of it. -But that lies in the future. Not even he can predict that.”

“But what about lying?”

“People lie. Good people lie. Ambassadors, senators, even Jedi lie. –I lied to you. Have done so before…..Will do so again. You have to sort the signal form the noise, probe the depths, find the truth….Even so, your truth is someone else’s lie….”

Niall thinks on her words. Finally he asks, “When did you lie to me.”

“All the time. Back on Kashyyk…..The illusion that was Ambria.”

“I’m confused. Was confused. The princess called to me in my dreams....But she wasn't real. She was there but not there, but nearly somewhere.” Niall admits, “I'm still confused. -And I don’t like it.”

“You want to be in control? -To call the shots?”

“I suppose so. Is that wrong?” He asks.

“Maybe it is…..But I could be lying…..”

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Karnov is the queen of the desh pile. To announce the fact, She’s written ‘Desh pile’ on a crude shelter made of scrap wood. The motley crew of creatures around her have found safety in her presence and have rewarded her with many of the silver spheres. They also snigger that her spelling is not the best.

Desh pile sign.

“Only a hundred or so to go….” She announces triumphantly. “I never thought it were possible.”

“It isn’t.” A familiar voice says from the shadows. Master Junn steps forward. “I admire your enterprise, though. I didn’t expect you to show such insight.”

“I had to fight dozens in the early days.” Karnov tells him. “I nearly died several times.”

“You might complete the task yet….” Junn replies. Karnov’s spirits rise. “But somehow I doubt it.” Her sprits are dashed and dive into the pile of desh…or indeed ‘shed.’

“I might surprise you yet, old man.” Karnov tells him defiantly.

“I’ll give you one more week.” Junn tells her. If there is but one sphere missing you fail. I’ll even put a wager on it.”

“I will not fail, master…..” She tells him. A movement behind her makes her jump. In an instant she ignites her lightsabre and hurls it at the creature. In a shower of sparks, a conduit is severed, and the ducting crashes down upon a rabid akk dog, trapping it.

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Mistress Luce picks up some of the lightsabre parts. “What was that name you called my home?”

“Charmingly retro.”

“Then why don’t you start with that?”

Niall picks up lightsabre hilt pieces that might fit the description. “I thought this was something that I had to do for myself….”

“Pffft! In the old days, yes. Months of study and meditation…..”

“But?”

“There’s a war on you know. – You still have to put your ‘soul’ into a lightsabre….But as for the parts…. You’re pretty much there.” She picks up the Blue Carbuncle. “Start with this. Once you see it in the force…..Everything else will fall into place.”

“What about a crystal?”

“That you have to decide for yourself. And probably have to fight for it too. -But for now, you could use the one you are using already.”

Niall starts putting the parts together.

Mistress Luce watches him, without interfering. “-And when your lightsabre is complete, we can run you through the rest of the trials…..” She says.

“-And then?”

“Then we go and see the little green liar…..And tell him a few home truths.”

“I’ve been thinking about that.” Niall admits.

“Save it. – Oh, and there’s another thing that you should know.” Mistress Luce comes closer.

“What is that?”

“Every padawan must sleep with their master…..Or mistress.” She says, seductively, pulling him close.

Niall is confused. He tries to concentrate on the lightsabre parts.

“Your hands are trembling.” Mistress Luce points out, and puts hers on his. Niall tries to resist her advances. “What about Oona?” he asks.

“Her Master is a Selkath , Master Q’ell Tivor. -And can I say… Eeew!” Mistress Luce tells him. Niall tries to keep a steady voice, “No, that’s not what I meant!”

Mistress Luce shakes her head at him, and leans in close, as if to kiss him. -At that point all the lights flicker, and go out. Everything fades to black.

Niall feels flesh against his lips. He fancies that Mistress Luce is about to kiss him gently, though in the confusion, nothing is certain. Something is wrong…. He can’t help himself, even though the wrath of Oona is too horrible to contemplate. He is lost in the moment. That lasts but a second or two. Suddenly, the familiar hum of a lightsabre is heard. Mistress Luce has her hand over his mouth. “Shh!” She hisses at him. Niall is to embarrassed by his feelings to say anything. Something has stirred within him, especially with his Mistress so close.

Niall picks up a training blade. His lightsabre is still half-assembled on the table. There is the faintest of noises by the window, but the blackout extends for many city blocks, and nothing but the faintest pinpricks of stars can be seen. He thinks that he sees a movement – something black against the starlight. Mistress Luce strides across the room and lashes out with her lightsabre, making a neat hole in the glass. –But the shadow –if it was a shadow- is gone.

Niall fits a power-pack to a body of the lightsabre and attaches its emitter crystal to give a glimmer of light in the darkness.

“Romantic isn’t it?” Misress Luce asks.

“Um….Yes. I suppose….” Niall is embarrassed. “I thought you were about to kiss me.”

“Whatever gave you that idea?”

“The fact that you were about to kiss me…..Coupled with the fact that you kissed me.”

“Do you still believe that it is padawan’s duty to sleep with their master……Or mistress?”

“Well, I have my doubts, but if you say that it’s the truth…..” He says, but tails off.

“I’d be lying!” Mistress Luce gently makes fun of him. For the first time, there isn’t a hint of anger in Niall’s reaction. Maybe he has found some inner peace at last. He suprises himself at his response. Niall is also suprised to find that he is laughing at himself. Finally, he composes himself. He wants to raise a slightly more seroius point.

“I know that a relationship with Oona is wrong.....” He takes a breath, wathing for a reaction. Mistress Luce looks sympathetic.“– Wrong in many ways…But….” Mistress Luce puts a finger to her lips, silencing him on the subject.

“Shame….” She tells him, and lies back on the sofa. “I could use a good kiss…!”

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The power-cut doesn’t last long. A heavily armed and armoured repulsor craft comes into view. It puts down on Karnov’s Desh shed, crushing the sign. A crew spills out, and several of them surround the area, with blaster cannons at the ready. Others tend to the severed conduit. Karnov can hear a woman’s voice giving clipped orders. She approaches the woman who has a holo-scanner up to one cybernetic eye. The woman’s other eye –a deep green colour- regards the young padawan with contempt. The crew complete their task in less than an hour. They heave on the wreckage, and with a plop, a silvery sphere drops down. Karnov moves her hand and with the force, picks it up. – The final one…..Or at least the penultimate one. She stalks off back to the waiting people and creatures. The cyber-eyed woman watches her intently. Then she signals to the crew.

Karnov sees an opportunity. She turns to her own bunch of creatures and misfits. “I’m going. I cannot do any more here. – Though I may return some day….”

“You’ll always be welcome.” A small ugly creature tells her.

Karnov has hated her task. Cursed Junn, longed for fresh water to drink and to bathe in. –But at the same, she’s sorry to leave. A mutant creature steps forward and offers Karnov a polished cylinder. “We found this. We think it might be Madelorian iron –If it is, it’d be worth a fortune….”

“Thanks.” Karnov is moved that these pathetic citizens are actually giving her a valuable gift. “I think I know where this can be of use.” She says. Meanwhile, the repair crew are growing impatient. The one-eyed woman scowls at Karnov. “Hurry it up!”

With a tear in her eye and a farewell on her lips, Karnov climbs aboard the repair craft. It climbs steeply for several minutes before the cabin fills with light, and the craft emerges into a warm and sultry evening. Karnov disembarks, taking in a great lungful of clean air. Around her, buildings are slowly restoring power, and traffic is starting to flow again. “I’ll be seeing you.” The one-eyed woman says. Karnov gets an uneasy feeling. “I must go and report in. Thanks for the lift.” Karnov replies, trying to break the ice. The one-eyed woman only scowls at her. As Karnov turns away, the woman adjusts the cyber-eye. A small blue beam plays across the retreating Padawan. The woman turns to a holo-communicator.

Some time later, after a long bath, a long swim in the Western sea and a change of robes, Karnov strides to the Cantina D’ampezzo. Mater Junn is co-incidentally talking on a holo-communicator. He snaps it off as soon as Karnov approaches. “What?” He asks harshly.

“I have returned. I have completed the task that you set me.”

“I doubt that.” Junn scoffs. “I still think that you are one sphere short.” He almost adds ‘of a pachinko machine’ -but doesn’t.

“Not at all. -I never lost it.” Karnov can’t help a grin.

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Niall and Mistress Luce are sharing a late supper. “What now, mistress.”

“Please, when we’re in private…. You can call me ‘Tisha.’”

“It sounds so informal.” Niall protests.

“True. But I feel that our relationship is closer now than ever. You’ve resolved some of your issues….”

Niall is quiet. “So what is next....Tisha?”

“You will need to complete your lightsabre. –after that the trial of the spirit.”

“Aha! The one where one meets oneself.”

“That’s what the younglings say. There’s still one thing in the way of you becoming a Jedi knight.”

“And what is that, mis….” Niall corrects himself, “Tisha?”

“-You.”

Niall should have sent that one coming. “What about the shadow at he window?”

“I’ll look into it.” Mistress Luce tells him. “You rest. You’ll need it.”

Niall is tired. He retires to his quarters. Some time later Mistress Luce comes in, and seeing him sleeping peacefully, she sits, and places her hand on his forehead. He doesn’t stir.

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Karnov is confident. With the force she extracts the last sphere from Junn’s pocket and drops it on the table. She motions it to spin slowly around and around. “As you can see, I have learned much. I fought, I used my skills, my brains and my wits.”

Junn is in a sour mood, but begrudgingly accepts Karnov’s explanation.

“Then I guess you pass that part of the test. Now you must construct a lightsabre.”

“I’ve been giving it a lot of thought. I have some of the materials I need, and know where I can get the rest.”

“Then get to it.” Junn growls.

“It will be a pleasure master.” Karnov tells him sweetly.

Junn picks up the final sphere from the table as Karnov departs.

“She has a point, I suppose.” He admits, throwing the shiny metal ball as far and as hard as he can into the night.

Master Q'ell Tivor.

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Footnotes. (Click numbers to return to the story.)

[ 67 ]    She thinks she says: “I’m looking for balls my friend. Fetch them for Karnov, Okay?” In fact it’s more like: “I’ve got no balls. I’ll be your friend if I can grow some.”