Star Wars: You Can Never Go Home (KumKitten and TheCorsair)

[KumKitten]

The blades of her saber hummed precisely through the air, the momentum of her dexterous footwork slinging strawberry blond tresses in her wake. She fought him, but there was no anger or intention. A bead of sweat stung a verdant eye, but she barely noticed, immersed as she was in the serene ocean of the force. Swiftly she dipped and dived, feeling the heat of his saber throb angrily passed her ear. No, this was no duel. It was a playful romp. And charged with something else, dangerous and wonderful. She lost her balance and he pressed. She swore she could see the hint of a smile on his striking features. Soon she felt the cool stone of the training ring wall against her back, and he knocked the saber from her fingers. "You're distracted." He said it matter-of-factly, and it was true. And then a different expression came over him. He took a step towards her, and her breath caught...

Her eyes opened to the same grey bulkhead they always did, in the spartan quarters of her small vessel. She turned towards the window near her bunk, watching the blue cascade of hyperspace flow past, her expression pensive. How long, since I have had that dream? A year? What could have brought this on? She thought of Lucien, the fellow student who had nearly singlehandedly gotten her thrown out of the Order, and who she periodically missed terribly, before losing herself in her duties. The Masters always acted strangely when she asked what had happened to him after he had left. They were hiding something. But with this tragedy of a war, and a head full of ideas the council despised, there were matters to attend to. Still, her mind often slipped inexorably toward him, like a ball at the top of a hill. It was a compulsion that had nearly cost her her knighthood.

Sighing heavily, she rolled out of her bunk, revealing an athletic, but nonetheless dramatically feminine figure. Dressed in little but a training unitard, she willed her lightsaber to her grasp and walked gracefully to the cargo hold, where she performed her practice routine. Each motion was practiced and faultless, reflecting a training far superior to her performance in her dream moments before. With one blade, then two, she methodically worked through the forms, and then again at twice the pace. By the time her saber hissed and retracted, she was flushed, perspiring, and breathing heavily, but with a deep calm. A long, purposeful breath came and went.

Softly, Xenia Vikarian whispered her code.

"There is no emotion, there is peace.
There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.
There is no passion, there is serenity.
There is no chaos, there is harmony.
There is no death, there is the Force."

She knelt to meditate. She felt secure. Assured. Whatever this business with Lucian, the Force had a will of its own. For now, she must attend to her duties with the new younglings. Nevermind that the council sought to sideline her, keeping her from both the war and diplomacy. Those battles were for another time.

When she rose, she went to the bathroom and swiftly performed the rest of her routine, washing up and putting on a new unitard. Her R5 beeped knowingly as she felt the ship hit atmosphere. "Yes, Blackhat, I know." Pulling a brush through her hair, she hopped rather clumsily into a pair of worn bantha-hide pants, and pulled her saber holster over her wandering hips. After zipping up a snug pair of spacers boots, she made her way to the cockpit and slipped easily into the pilots chair.

________________________________________________


She landed in a clearing in the forest. Only a mile or so from that spot, the boys village stood; humble and unassuming. "Doran." She whispered his name as she stood near the boarding ramp, looking out into the brush. She had discussed with his parents walking with her back to her ship. It would give them ample time to say goodbye, if that was even possible.

More than anything, it was times like these that Xenia questioned the Order. But the war... who will speak for peace and stability but us anymore? We should have been pressing the senate to attend to the non-core sectors... She steeled herself for a hard, but necessary task, and took the first step. After a few paces, a strange ripple in the force, perhaps familiar to her, revealed itself. It almost feels like... She shook her head, seeing the village growing closer in the distance. You're losing your head, Zee. Sweeping her hair into a ponytail, the lovely young Jedi Knight approached the town, the unease of earlier that morning returning far too quickly.

 

[TheCorsair]

Maarin Glym sat by his wife, holding her and staring down at the cooing bundle in her arms with a morose expression. He should feel proud, he knew. Tyeir son, their little baby, was strong in the Force. The tests had confirmed it. He would be raised as a Jedi, one of the guardians if the great Galactic Republuic. And yet...

He sniffed, and held Kayla closer as a ragged sob tore from her throat. They'd been childless for so long, and now the child they'd longed for would be taken. Taken to be a Jedi, yes. To be strong and noble and brave, a warrior and a scholar and a peacemaker. But all he could see was the child they were abiut to lose. The first steps he'd never witness, the first words he'd never hear. And the pain if thise thoughts was almost too grest to bear.

Both of them gasped when they heard the knock at the door. Kayla clutched her infnt protectively to her chest, rocking desperatly back and forth. "No," she sibbed. "Not yet. Please... just a little longer." Maaron only squeezed her tight, and then rose. Steeling himself, he crossed the living chamber of their home, and opened the door.

"Maarin Glynn?" asked an unexpected figure, huddled under the stoop against the drizxling rain.

"Y... yes..?" Maarin said, confused. This was not who - or what - he'd expected. Jedi dressed in severe fashion, accirding to the HoloNet. Tan and brown robes, or plain bkack jumpsuits. Not black brocade coats and poet shirts and an exoensive hunter green cloak trimmed in gold. The lightsabers they bore were functional things made beautiful by craftsmanship, not ornate things with basket hilts that glittered with precious stones and metals. And surely only padawans wore their hair in ling flowing blonde braids. "There... there must be some... some mistake."

"Oh, no," the stranger replied with a smile. " My name is Lucian Falsteen. And, if I may have a few moments of your time? Why, I may oerhaps be abke to render some small service to your family. May I come in?"

---

Lucian sipped the steaming cup of jenyat he'd accepted out of politeness. "Now," he said slowly, "your child has potential, yes?"

"Yes," Kayla sniffed, still holding the baby. "He's... I don't remember the technical details, but his aptitude fir the Force is high."

"And so the Republic would steal him," Lucian stated, sipping his drink. "Without cate for his desires, or for your family." He considered them. "There is... another way. More than one, even."

He felt the hope flare in them. "What?" Maarin asked with desperate eagerness.

"He should be trained," Lucian said calmly. "That much is clear. I can sense the power in him, and he will be dangerous without it. To himself, and to others."

"And I suppose you intend to teach him?" Maarin snapped, full of sudden wariness.

Lucian laughed. "Me, my dear sir? I am but a student myself. But there are other disciplines, not yet ground out by the Jedi. The Dai Bendu of Ando Prime, for instance. Or the Palawa Teras Kasi of Bunduki, or the Baran Do of Dirini. Or, yes, my own order. It matters not, but many will permit you to remain a family."

"And what do you get out of this?" Kayla asked, suspicion humming through her veins.

"I? I get the satisfaction of following my own convictions. Of seeing a brother in the Force liberated, able to choose for himself where his path will lead." Lucian leaned forward. "This is, I swear, all I wish." Then he hesitated, cocking his head as he felt a tremor in the Force. One he had not sensed in some time. "Bht you must decide!" he urged. "The Jedi draw near!"