Emotions

Harmony

Soft fingertips brushed the flesh of her wrist as he slipped the glove onto her hand. She felt a tingle shimmy its way down her spine. She loved his hands; the supple pads of his fingertips, the smooth and unscarred surface of his palms…

She moved from him after the glove was fastened around her wrist, bending her fingers reflexively.

“Are you certain?”

The question hung in the air like a cluster of dust particles. Floating lazily on the breeze created by his breath, it reached her a beat too late. Her answer —“Of course,”— did not console his apprehension as it usually would. He sighed and held out a hand to stop her from placing the mask on her face.

“Are you certain?”

Eve jerked awake, a sudden stomach-turning nervousness coming over her. She looked at her hands, taking in the sweaty palms and quivering fingers. No gloves. She sighed. It had all felt so real, though… The soft, pliable fabric of the glove sliding over her flesh, the touch from this beautiful man; it was all too real.

Another shaky sigh escaped her lips and she ran a hand through her sweat-soaked hair. It became tangled in the kinks and twists that usually appeared during her slumber. Eve leaned back slowly, letting her head hit the pillow softly before drifting into sleep again.

The next morning, Evie didn’t remember the odd dream. She didn’t remember the overwhelming, irrational feeling of anxiety, either. She did remember another dream, one featuring the same beautiful man and a masked figure exploring some very strange ruins.

“…We can never go back. The Order will surely banish us…”

She shivered as the words echoed in her mind, their meaning weighing heavily upon her. These two, they were Jedi. Why was everything around her lately revolving around the whims of the Jedi and their Order? Why were they so significant now, when she’d lived 35 years before without much more than mentioning them in passing?

Wrapping her arms around herself to fight off a sudden strange chill, she stepped off the ship and into the warm early morning light of Dantooine’s sun. Carth stood waiting for her. She felt herself pale as she remembered last night’s events.

“This morning’s getting stranger by the minute. First Bastila comes out looking like she saw a ghost, and now you.”

She ran a hand through her hair and muttered an explanation, obviously too low for him to hear as he continued on. Did he not remember? Was he too plastered on whatever ale he’d filched to remember their kiss as more than a strange dream? Somehow, she felt a strange sense of sadness at the thought.

“Well, anyways, Bastila did mention that you should go to the Council chambers before she left. It’s no doubt something urgent, so you shouldn’t keep ‘em waiting.”

“Anything else?”

“No… She didn’t seem well, as I recall… and for that matter neither do you. Are you alright?”

“Rough night. Let’s go, fly boy.”

As they entered the chambers, the Masters began speaking of visions and bonds and more of their Jedi propaganda than her still sleep-fogged brain could handle so early in the day. Eve did manage to get the gist of it, which included her having a strange Force bond with Bastila and their mission to investigate the ruins from their shared dream.

“You have a strong affinity with the Force. With such power comes great responsibility… and danger… You may wish to deny what you are, but the Council cannot turn a blind eye.”

Of course you can’t, she thought. It seemed these Jedi didn’t have the ability to do anything that would make life easy for the nonmembers of their order.

“It seems I have no choice…”

Stepping out of the Council room and into the inner courtyard of the Enclave, Eve felt the weight of everything she’d gone through settle between her shoulder blades and make its nest there.

Whatever happened to getting out of the fast lane and finding a place to call home? She’d found a home alright, and it was the Ebon Hawk. She’d never have anything constant in her life again.

Not now. Now that she was a fracking Jedi Apprentice!

She felt a frustrated tear trickle from the corner of her eye and quickly wiped it away. She wouldn’t cry like a spoiled child just because this wasn’t going her way. So what if the Endar Spire was supposed to be her last mission; so what if she’d spend two pointless months or more on Taris? And now she was going to become a Jedi, with or without her own consent on the matter.

But she was a soldier, and soldiers didn’t cry. Soldiers sucked it up and kept on going.

She bit back a sigh and wondered if she’d made a mistake in her choice of career.

“Excuse me, Eve?”

She looked up from the ground as they walked and turned her head to Bastila.

“I know this must be hard…”

You have no idea.

“… but this is for the best. You’re a Force-sensitive, Eve, and that’s nothing to sneeze at.”

“From what I hear, the Force flows through all things, Miss Shan,” she said as they stepped onto the ship. “And there have been rumors of the Kath hounds being bothered by a disturbance in the Force... It’s nothing to sneeze at, even though any common animal could sense it as much as I?”

“That’s not tr—”

“Don’t worry; I’m stuck with it now, thanks to you. I do hope you didn’t expect me to be happy about this. I may be a soldier, Shan, but I’m not all about war and battle. I’m ready for peace and quiet. For a piece of land to live out the rest of my life in a dull, unassuming existence. Why is your war my problem?”

“Evelyn! How can you be so—?”

“Just drop it. I’m no deserter. I’m in this now, right? So I’ll be here until the job is done. Just leave me alone.”

Eve felt the frustration boiling in her chest and decided she needed some sort of release. She’d never been one prone to such anger or such strong outbursts of passionate feelings, but lately the Jedi were more of a hazard to her emotional balance than a help. Breathing deeply, already practicing Jedi techniques, Eve continued on her way to the hangar.

“Hey there, hot lips.”

She jumped as the rough voice spoke from the darkness of the room, interrupting her fuming thoughts. “Canderous?” she asked, catching her breath.

He stepped out from behind the swoop bike, setting down his hydrospanner and moving toward her. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness around her, she felt a knot form in her tummy. She could just barely make out the look on Canderous’ face, but what she’d seen thus far didn’t look good.

“Have a good sleep last night?” he asked, his eyes dull with apathy.

“I-I guess… Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fan-fracking-tastic.”

Evie eyed him uneasily before she moved to the work bench. As she searched for an item to upgrade, she heard his snide voice.

“You fixed everything last night, girl; why don’t you go bother Onasi?”

She turned to look at him, her brow furrowed. “What is your problem?”

“My problem?” he snapped, stepping ever closer to her. “Well, doll face, the problem is that this annoying little knucklehead with a case of homesickness will never leave me alone in my hangar to work! And she decides she wants to follow me all around my ship and tell me about her past at all hours of the night!”

Evelyn stared up into his steel-colored eyes in shock, hurt and embarrassment burning her cheeks an angry shade of red. “How dare you! I told you all that because you asked! And this isn’t your ship, it’s mine! I’ll be in any room or section of it whenever I want for as long as I want! And if you’d like the same privilege, as well as food, water, and a working ‘fresher, I’d shut my fracking mouth and put that hydrospanner back to work!”

She spun away from him, heading back out into the hall, when his strong fingers wrapped around her arm, effectively stopping her retreat. “You know what the worst thing is, though? That she shrugged it off when I went to kiss her, but then went and slurped face with a pilot too wasted to even know her from a kath hound,” he hissed, his eyes narrow and cold. “You aren’t important enough to remember, girl.”

Eve yanked her arm from his grasp, her face burning an even brighter with humiliation at his words. She glared at him, all the evil words directed at him swirling in her mind before she stalked into the hall and onward to the cockpit.

“Scum-sucking, farkle-faced chubba!” she murmured vehemently. “Mir’osik! ¹ Di’kut! ²”

The nerve of that bastard! How could she have ever thought he was any brand of civil human being? She smacked her hand to her hip in frustration. She could be so naïve about people sometimes. Even in the beginning with Orin she’d assumed he just wanted to be friends. What was Canderous’ problem, though? Could she really have been bothering him that much? Did she really insult him by kissing Carth? And why did Carth tell him about it anyways?

She paused in her stride just outside of the doorway, thinking of Carth’s behavior that morning; how he didn’t seem at all awkward or tense the way she did. Then she thought of Canderous’ words again. Holy frack, she thought suddenly.

Carth didn’t remember their kiss.

“But then how did Canderous know?” she whispered, turning from the doorway and stepping inside the communications room. She leaned against the wall, thinking of any possible conclusion, when she heard a voice from the cockpit.

“Carth?”

“Yes, Bastila?

“Have you noticed anything odd about Evelyn lately?” There was a pause then, as though Bastila’s question was startling, though even Eve knew there was logic behind it. “That is, she seems very volatile and — I dunno — unstable?”

She heard a cough and assumed it was Carth’s way of stalling. “Well, Bastila, she really is under a lot of pressure these days.”

“Pressure?” The young woman seemed to find the concept preposterous. “What kind of pressure can she be under? I mean, I’m the one who was kidnapped by a gang, dragged all over that filthy planet, holed up with a Wookie and a Twi’lek brat, and I’m the one that the Council expected — and still expects — to hold things together!”

Evelyn felt her jaw hit the floor as Bastila’s whiney tirade came to a close. That little snot! I’ll show her who’s under pressure! She launched herself into the hall way, but Carth responded before she had a chance to jump in. She hung back on the edge of the doorframe, out of sight still, but still close enough to hear.

“Wow, Bastila, that’s a mature way to go about things, isn’t it? ‘My problems are bigger than yours, so get over it.’ Very nice, very understanding… very Jedi of you,” he retorted. “It isn’t stress from others so much as it’s just a strain on her mental health. I’m not sure you dragging her off into the Council Chambers every five minutes is all that good for her, either. She needs rest, some peace and quiet.”

Eve bit her lip, trying to stop the flutter in her belly. Who knew Carth was so receptive?

“Well, Carth, with all due respect, what the council says to Evelyn and I isn’t any of your concern.”

Eve took the rebuff as a chance to break up their conversation before things got escalated. Knocking on the doorframe, she stepped into the room before either of the pair realized she’d been listening the entire time. “Hate to break you lovebirds up, but I need to borrow Bastila for a while.”

Bastila looked startled at this announcement, nodding her head and opening and closing her mouth like an angry Selkath. Or, maybe that had something to do with her use of the word ‘lovebirds’. Evelyn rolled her eyes at the younger woman and guided her out of the cockpit before she threw a small smile at Carth over her shoulder.

As she stepped into the hallway, she knew somehow that Carth understood that smile. Simultaneously, she remembered her hasty exit from the previous night. She remembered hitting her shoulder on something in the darkness of the passage, but being too caught up to worry over it.

“Canderous,” she whispered, shock and humiliation coloring her cheeks. He was outside the room, watching us the whole time… watching me… No wonder he’s so stung about it… it wasn’t my fault… He kissed me… She shuddered; feeling somehow violated knowing that Canderous had observed something so intimate and private… it mad her sick to think of.

“What was that, Evelyn?”

Snapping out of it, Evie shook her head. “Nothing, Bastila… nothing.”

“What did you need to talk about then?” she asked as they exited the ship.

Evelyn searched for a topic in her whirling mind. “Meditation,” she finally settled on. “I know I’ve been all over the place lately with my moods… I need peace, Bastila. Do you understand?”

As the words tumbled from her mouth, she felt the tiredness of admitting a great and terrible truth rush through her limbs. She was dropping the façade, giving up a well-rehearsed act. She wasn’t going to keep being irate until she keeled over. She either had to learn to control her emotions — for her own good, not to please the Order — and let the past go, or she would self-destruct.

Bastila seemed to sense this sincerity in Eve’s words. “Yes, I understand perfectly,” she replied with a nod. “Come with me to the courtyard then. I’ll help you.”

The pair walked in silence through the Enclave, though Evie couldn’t bring herself to call it awkward. It seemed that with her understanding of Eve’s need for peace Bastila found a desire to teach her the ways of finding this serenity. As they stepped through the doors, past the sentry droid, Eve felt the scents of sweet grass and wild flowers tickle her nose. The saccharine smells took her mind back to the far away planet of Deralia… to home.

They rounded the corner and Bastila led her to a rounded section with benches around the border. The courtyard was devoid of life with the exception of an older Jedi man taking a stroll.

“Let’s sit,” she began, settling herself on the ground before the center bench and motioning Eve to do the same. “Meditation is best done in a safe and quiet environment. It usually works best for me in a natural setting, like a garden or here, in the courtyard, so close to the grasslands of Dantooine.

“This position is the most common pose for meditation — the Lotus.” As she said this, Bastila pulled her feet up to rest upon her knees, with the soles toward the sky. “It is a little difficult if you aren’t so flexible, but it will become more comfortable with time."

Eve mimicked her movements and smiled as she realized how natural the position felt.

“Now close your eyes and listen to my voice,” Bastila continued, her tone soothing and placid. “Breathe in deeply and think of nothing but my voice, my words… Everything else is unimportant, inconsequential. Clear your thoughts, quiet the mind.

“Now feel the breeze brushing you skin. Smell the fresh, clean scent of the grass, the earthy soil… Think of the breeze on you cheek rippling through the blades of tall grass, not disturbing the harmony, but becoming a part of it, becoming one. Become the breeze now; flow and dance with the grass…”

Evelyn listened to Bastila’s voice as the other woman mesmerized her, visions of the countryside dancing behind her eyelids. She continued her steady breathing, lost in the images Bastila painted for her. Gradually, though, she began to quiet herself, her last words hanging in the air as they both sat in the stillest quiet Evelyn had ever known.

She felt it then, what all the Jedi she’d ever met always told her of… the strong tranquility of the Force. Not her usual ‘touch,’ but something bigger. It filled up her chest, her limbs, her mind, and her heart… it sewed up her emotional wounds from the last weeks of her life, healing her insides to be as unscathed as the outside. She felt somehow whole, as though she’d been missing this vital piece her whole life, but had never known it.

It was beautiful.

As seems to be my trademark, I threw some Mandalorian in this chapter. Here are the meanings:

¹ Mir'osik - something undesirable where your brains ought to be, i.e. "Dung for brains"

² Di'kut (dee-KOOT) - a foolish, idiotic, useless individual (severe); context-dependent:can mean jerk, moron, idiot, etc. (sometimes vulgar)

For more Mando'a, check out .com/wiki/Mando'a.