Before the Saga Mischief Makers - 2021 Olympics Challenge - Mace, Qui-Gon, Taeyn (OC), Namia (OC) and Tara (OC)

Title: Mischief Makers
Author: Kit'
Timeframe: Before the Saga
Characters: Qui-Gon Jinn, Mace Windu, Taeyn D'levosh, Namia Zahalin, Tara Tarindae
Genre: Action, Romance, Angst, Friendship
Challenge: 2021 Summer Olympics Challenge
Summary: Jedi ban relationships, but they say nothing about friendships

Notes: This is going back to when all these characters were teenagers. Some of them have been aged down (Qui-Gon) to fit. I have also completed all the fics so this will be updated fairly regularly (see below). I'll also add some of the Pride Month Challenge responses in at the end (as some of these fics were transported from there). The stories are in rough chronological order and should work without you having to know much about the kit-verse (as it's been called).

Update schedule: Every Thursday and Monday

Index:

400 Word Cross Country: Spice

Prime Time Coverage: Blockhead

4x100 Relay: Guessing Games

100 Word Sprint: Yes, Master.

Fantastical Fencing: In the Jungle

1500 Word Dash: The Consular and the Archivist

110 Word Hurdle: Rule Breaker

200 Freestyle: Kintsugi

Single Sentence Shot Put: Bow

AU Archery: Sweetie

 

400 Word Cross Country: 400 words about your character, couple, family or friendship with any theme.

***
Spice
***

“You will fall.”

“I will not.”

“You will.”

Tara swung upside on the tree branch, relishing the feeling of her hand standing on end and how the rough bark dug into her legs. She grinned at Mace who was regarding her seriously from where he sat on the ground. Some ways off, Qui-Gon was sitting on a rock, mediating

“You shouldn’t be up in the tree anyway,” Mace pointed out. “The Uneti tree isn’t for swinging on.”

“Who says?”

“Master Myr.”

“Taeyn’s in the tree too. Why aren’t you saying anything to him?”

“Because I’m sitting in it.” The voice floated down from above. “Not swinging on it.”

“Just because I’m younger than all of you, you think you can tell me what to do,” she said as she pulled herself back up on the branch and sat staring down the pathway.

“No, it’s because none of us want to get kicked out of here before she arrives,” Taeyn said as he swung down from the top branches to sit next to her. She made a face at him and when he did not return the gesture, leant her head against his arm.

“Do you think she’ll come soon?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think she’ll bring it?”

“I don’t know,” Taeyn replied. “Master Samukay told her they’d only get it if they had time. So we’ll have to wait.”

“I’m tired of waiting,” she sighed in a way she knew was overly dramatic.

“You could always go back to the initiate class you’re skipping,” Mace said, looking up at her through the leaves.

“Ha! I won’t be there much longer. Master Dor said he’d take me on.”

“The archivist?” Mace’s voice had a contemptuous edge. “The one who wears loud shirts and spends most of his time in dinky little communities on the outer-rim? Him?”

“Yeah,” Tara clenched her fists, ready for battle. “What of it? I think he’s marvellous.”
“You would. He doesn’t exactly follow the rules.”

“She comes.” Qui-Gon’s voice was quiet but it had the same effect as if he’d shouted. The bickering stopped instantly and heads craned to see. She was there, coming up the pathway. The three of them converged on her, eyes alight and smiling. Namia was already grinning at them as she held out the box and slowly undid the lid. As it lifted away, the smell of spices and sugar engulfed them. Tara closed her eyes as it hit, all promise of sweetness, happiness and joy - just like Namia herself. Tara felt her face heat at the thought.

“Come on,” Namia said softly, taking her hand and pulling her from her reverie. “Let’s eat. Once you try fringi cake, you’ll never want to eat anything else.”

 

fun. Great to see those youngsters having fun

 

Friendship, fun and a little teasing. All wonderful things. I don't think I've ever read anything before with Mace and Qui-Gon as teens. Looking forward to more.

 

There is definitely a lot of fun in these responses...but also quite a bit of angst too (as there should be)

Yeah, there doesn't seem to be a lot out there about those two as teenagers. I certainly had fun looking at things through their eyes, although I will say getting my head into Mace's voice/personality was a bit hard at times.

 

Prime Time Coverage: 500+ words of action, adventure, or excitement with your chosen character, friendship, family or couple as the star.

**

Block Head

**

“What did you do?” Taeyn’s voice cut across the training mats. He stood panting, his training saber in one hand. At his feet Namia lay curled into a ball, hands over her nose. He could feel the warm currents of the Force swirl as Tara and Qui-Gon joined him.

“She deserved it,” Ryder said, switching off his own training saber and tucking it into his belt. Taeyn’s arm came out to block Tara before she could do anything particularly stupid. Ryder’s lip curled into a snarl. “What? Aren’t you going to let your little terrier fight me? Afraid I’ll win there too?”

Taeyn cocked his head on one side and smiled. “Hardly. Tara can take care of herself, just like Namia.”

Taeyn took two steps forward, stepping around Namia’s prone body. He heard the faint rustle of clothes behind him and then Qui-Gon’s soft words of comfort to the quietly sobbing girl. His friend would look after Namia, but it would be up to him to put Ryder back in his place.

“Doesn’t look like Namia can take care of herself if she needs you two to step in for her.”

“She wouldn’t, if her opponent was fighting fair.” Taeyn said, tightening his grip on his lightsaber. Ryder’s lip curled again and he took a step forward.

“She’s the one who tripped me,” he snarled.

“We were watching, you tripped over your own stupid feet,” Tara spat.

Taeyn’s breath quickened and he made a gesture with his free hand, hoping it would be enough to make the younger Jedi back down. Tara was an amazing fighter, but she was nowhere near Ryder’s level and her hot-headed impulsiveness would be her downfall.

There was a movement to one side and a roll of different heat through the Force as someone else arrived. Taeyn wanted to groan. The newcomers' arrival would mean a different approach. He recliped his lightsaber and stood straight, rolling his shoulders back.

“We saw you trip and it wasn’t because of Namia,” Taeyn said, trying to keep his voice quiet and level. Ryder made a derisive noise that showed he did not agree. Taeyn ignored him and continued. “It was throwing a block at her after the bout was finished that we have a problem with. You know that’s against the training mat rules.”

“She should have blocked it,” Ryder sneered. “Also, since when did you become a rule keeper?”

“Since I watched you break them.” He stared at Ryder, partly to intimidate him but mostly to make sure he didn’t look to where the newcomer stood watching silently.

“You sure you aren’t upset because that’s your girlfriend?” Ryder sneered.

Without thinking Taeyn took a step forward, hands clenched into fists.

“Touched a nerve have I, Taeyn?” Ryder asked, “do you want to go kissy-kissy with Narrrrmeeee? Want to break the rules that Master Dooku and Master Yoda forced on you both?”

Taeyn's eyes twitched. The telling off from the Council was still too recent in his mind for the emotions to pass him by. His face burnt with anger and embarrassment.

“I mean if you’ll kiss that,” Ryder said motioning with his unlit lightsaber towards Namia who was now being propped by Qui-Gon, “then you’ll kiss anything. You don’t know where that mouth has been.”

Taeyn was moving before he could really register what was happening. One second he’d been two steps in front of Tara and the next he was across the training mat and holding Ryder up by his tunic so that his feet barely scraped the ground. Taeyn was suddenly glad of the growth spurt he’d recently gone through, even if it had made Master Indoa tut about the constant need of new robes. He would never be as tall as Qui-Gon or Mace, but he was glad of the height and the way his shoulders had filled out. His voice was a guttural growl that resonated from somewhere deep in his chest.

“You’ll apologise to Namia. You won’t talk trash about her either. Otherwise the next time I have lightsaber practice with you I’ll make sure to trounce you in the most embarrassing way I can think of. I will also make it hurt until you learn your manners. Do I make myself clear?”

There was the sound of a throat clearing from the doorway. Taeyn was suddenly aware of the tableau of other padawans frozen in shock. He stared at Ryder until the other boy dropped his gaze.

“What exactly is going on here?”

Taeyn unceremoniously dropped the other boy, and was rewarded by a tiny spark of righteous pleasure as Ryder fell awkwardly to the ground. He turned, straightening his robes and watched Master Tholme stalk towards them.

“Well?” the Jedi master prompted as neither boy spoke, “I’m waiting for an explanation.”

“Nothing, Master Tholme,” Taeyn eventually offered, “just friendly banter between friends. I was educating Ryder about the dangers of throwing objects during training.” He glanced at Ryder who had risen to his feet and was trying to surreptitiously straighten his robes. “Qui-Gon was just going to take Namia to the healers. Ryder was going to class.”

He turned back to the other boy who stood awkwardly defiant for a second before stalking back to return the training saber to the racks. Master Tholme moved towards Tara who was studiously trying to remove a fleck of dust from the bottom of her tunic.

“Just friendly banter Tara?” he asked, ignoring Taeyn.

Tara nodded uncomfortably. “Just banter, sir. You know how it is between padawans. Good sportsmanship is very important to Taeyn.”

“I see. As is supporting a wronged friend.” The Jedi Master looked around the room at the other padawans who had suddenly found themselves busy with anything else. “It wasn’t so long ago that I was a padawan myself,” he added and then looked at Taeyn again and raised an eyebrow, “although when I decided to stand up for a friend I always checked to see if a Master was watching.”

Master Tholme bowed slightly, waited until it was returned by the two padawans and then turned from the room. Taeyn looked at Tara and then grinned.

“I knew he was watching,” he said quietly, “that’s why I stopped short of decking Ryder.”

 

great those padawans competing and defending each other. Will they learn a lesson?

 

oh, that Ryder! Such an attitude.

I kind of wish he'd decked him anyway, no matter that Master Tholme was watching.

 

I do love padawan stories, especially when they come out of your genius head!

 

Learn from their past mistakes? Never! Just learn not to get caught again

Yeah, although knowing Tara several bad things would have ended up happening to him where no-one could see...

Aww, thank you! Your wonderful compliment made me smile all day

 

4x100 Relay: 4x100 words on the four types of love (affection, intimacy, friendship, and charity) as experienced by your character, family, friendship or couple in one post.


*
Guessing Games
*

Intimacy:

“Guess what Master Samukay is teaching us to make today?” Namia asked, giggling slightly as she sat in his lap.

“Master Yoda’s stew,” Taeyn suggested pushing some of her hair out of her eyes.

“No, sweeter than that.”

“You?”

Namia frowned at him and then bopped him on the nose. “Very cute, but I think there are rules against cooking padawans.”

“Not according to the poem?”

“What poem?”

“You know the one. It talks about Monday's padawan being fairly tough, and Tuesday's padawan being tender enough.”

“Oh that one.” She grinned at him. “So which padawan am I?”

He smiled cheekily at her.

“Sunday’s padawan.”

“Oh,” she raised an eyebrow. “And which one is that again?”

“The one that’s delicious in every way.”

She laughed and kissed him gently.

“Prove it.”



Affection:


“Guess what Master Samukay is teaching us to make today?” Namia asked, as she dragged Taeyn by the hand towards where Qui-Gon was sitting reading. He frowned at them, putting one finger on the flimsi he was reading to mark the place.

“What?”

“You need to guess.”

“It’s not stew,” Taeyn put in quickly, “It’s sweeter than that.”

Qui-Gon’s frown deepened. “Myrtle cream pie.”

Namia shook her head. “Spicier. Or rather it uses lots more spices. Not that it’s hot or anything. I mean it’s cooked...” She trailed away.

“I’m glad to see that all that political training has made you more eloquent,” Qui-Gon said, stretching and putting the flimsi back in his pocket.

Namia poked her tongue out at him. “Love you too, big-foot.”


Friendship:


“Guess what Master Samukay is teaching us to make today?”

Mace paused in the kata he was practicing.

“I’m not a fan of guessing games.”

“If you don’t guess then she’ll pout.” Taeyn said, weathering Namia’s affectionate slap to his shoulder.

“That sounds like your problem,” Mace said, eyes narrowing slightly. He resumed the first position again. “Not mine.”

Taeyn rolled his eyes slightly. “She won’t be pouting at me. I made my guess. I’ll give you a hint, it’s not stew, it’s sweeter than that.”

“It’s spicier than Myrtle cream pie,” Qui-Gon added from behind them. “Come on Mace, play along.”

“Alderaan spice chutney,” Mace said quietly as he deactivated his lightsaber.

Namia shook her head. “Not a sauce either. Has to be baked. You guys are the worst at this.”


Charity:


“Guess what Master Samukay is teaching us to make today?” Namia said almost bouncing as she found Tara in one of the far reaches of the archive.

“Fringi cake.”

Namia deflated. “How do you know that?”

Tara shrugged. “Master Samukay’s been looking in the archive for the past week for the best recipe. Master Dor’s been helping him.”

“Well that kind of spoiled that,” Taeyn interjected. “Let’s go to class.”

“You guys have fun making it.” Tara said, putting another book back on the shelf.

“You’re not coming?” Namia asked.

Tara frowned. “I’m not in that class remember? I’m two years younger than you guys.” She glared at Mace. “Which some of you take great pains to remind me of.”

Mace opened his mouth to reply but Qui-Gon, ever the peace-maker, stepped in.

“We’ll bring you back a piece, little squirt.” He looked around the group, “Promise. Friends never leave friends behind.”

 

love how the guessing is proceeding through all the four drabbles

 

I too loved the guessing game. And rules against cooking padawans? Love that!! The humor was spot on, as was Mace being so serious. Fabulous effort!!

 

Your Mace is fun. Especially when acting dead serious.

 

Thank you. I actually really loved making it a connecting story and having every drabble start with the same line. It was a lot of fun

Once had a story in which a character from the outer-rim who had only heard stories about Jedi believed the idea that they ate padawans. One of the Masters joked that they were having a 'roast' that night and my little OC character was violently sick everywhere. Glad I got the humour and Mace right. I find him quite hard to write!

Thank you! I find Mace a little difficult to write, so I'm glad I got it downpat here

 

100 Word Sprint: A 100 word drabble about your character, family, friendship or couple using any theme.

*
Yes, Master.
*

“Padawan.” Dooku’s voice broke through Qui-Gon’s reverie. He opened his eyes to see his Master regarding him coolly. “I would like to speak to you about the company you’ve recently been keeping.”

Qui-Gon’s heart sank. He knew his Master disapproved, especially after Taeyn and Namia had been caught in such a compromising situation.

“Yes, Master?” Sometimes brevity was the path of least resistance.

“I do not believe some of the padawans that you befriended are the best choices to accompany you on your journey to be a Jedi.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Windu is fine, but D’levosh and Tarindae have yet to control their emotions enough to stay true to the path of the lightside.”

“Yes, Master.” His heart sank further. He knew he shouldn’t ask but he could not stop himself. “And Zahalin?”

His Master’s eyes narrowed.

“If that girl makes it to the rank of knight, then I shall no longer be a Jedi.”

 

At least he approves of Mace.

Prophetic words. Excellent addition to this collection of stories.

 

Dooku is what he is. Stern and not nice at all

 

Great character writing going on here again. Your Dooku gives me the creeps. And Qui-Gon is so young and vulnerable, yet with inner strength...

 

Small mercies. One friend is at least something.

Thank you

No, definitely not. I possibly made him a bit too stern, but I figure his aloofness in the films has to come from somewhere.

Thanks Glad I hit the mark with both Dooku and Qui

 

Note: Part of me is really tempted to enter this in the OC challenge for challenging terrains too...

Fantastical Fencing: - A story of at least a 100 words involving your character, family, friendship or couple in which something fantastical happens.

*
In the Jungle
*
Water dripped through the canopy above them, trickling down the long, dark leaves to land in the sodden ground. In the understory of the jungle mushrooms sprouted by their thousands, perfuming the air with their earthy, strange smell. Namia pushed another branch as she followed her Master through the undergrowth and away from the still sparking wreckage of their small shuttle.

“Master, I get your love of strange and exotic ingredients, but crashing into the jungles of Felucian might not be the best way to get it," Namia said flippantly, just as the wet branch snapped back spraying her with tiny droplets.

Master Samukay glanced back and frowned at her. “Shush padawan, this is not the best place to talk. I think on this trek you and I both should practice the art of being silent. Unless we want to attract some of the jungle’s less welcoming inhabitants.”

With a nod of his head, he turned again and went back to pushing aside the heavy, dense branches of the swampy, fetid jungle. Namia could hear the calls of a vast array of animals that she had no hope of identifying. She trudged on, wondering what had gotten into her Master. Master Samukay was generally one of the more talkative masters in the Order. That was something she liked about him; he could generally talk his way out of most situations with a carefully chosen word. But now he was silent as they made their way along trails she could barely see. A thousand more quips and observations sprang to mind, but she quashed them. If her master wasn’t willing to talk, then there had to be a reason.

Ahead the jungle opened out into a clearing. Namia could hear the sound of water trickling down the mini-water falls that had been created by fallen branches. The soil now squelched underfoot, more water than anything solid. She was careful to follow in his footsteps now, stepping only where he did. Something howled close by, a primordial sound that sent shivers down her spine and she missed her footing, coming down on a branch and feeling her ankle twist sideways in the wet leather of her boot.

Namia stopped, hands spread to balance herself; hoping that it was nothing more than a mis-step. A second later the pain hit, spreading through the tendons of her ankle and up into her leg. She bit her lip to stop from crying out.

Master Samukay had warned her that using the Force here was a bad idea. The Force on Felucian was wild and capricious, liable to lead to the darkside as easily as it led to the light. She watched Master Samukay continue to push the dark, pithy stems of the understory plants aside and decided to risk it. She slowly opened her senses to the Force, expecting that a quick tug on the bond between her and Master Samukay would be enough.

The world spun.

The noise of the Force was horrendous. It filled her vision until she could almost taste it; almost touch the smell of it. It rocked her on never-ending waves. Swung her upside down. Tumbled her through waves of emotions until she was sick with the thrill of it. Hated her. Loved her. Was jealous and then proud of what she was. Spun her. Clawed at her. Stroked her. Whispered in her ear and shouted her name.

Then it was gone.

She woozily stared up at Master Samukay who was stroking her face, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“I told you not to use the Force here,” her Master was saying. Namia stared at him, groggily as he hauled her upright. Her clothes were soaked through with mud and water. Despite the stifling heat of the jungle she found herself shivering. Master Samukay smiled grimly at her and pulled her aching foot from the sucking mud.

She yelped as his strong fingers worked their way over the leather. He shook his head and sighed.

“I’m going to carry you padawan,” he said quietly. “Luckily there is not much further to go.”

“I’m sure I could walk Master,” Namia said quietly. “Perhaps we could fashion a stick into a crutch." She was still shivering. Whatever that had been in the Force it felt like it had melded to her bones and left a sour taste in her mouth that she couldn’t quite get rid of.

“A crutch would slow us down. This mud is treacherous on two good legs. Without the Force I’m afraid we’d take too long. We do not want to be out here when night falls.”

She thought about asking him how he’d even know that night was falling when the jungle was so dense above them, but the strange animal howl sounded again, and was taken up by another somewhere in the distance. Master Samukay’s eyebrows furrowed and he swung her into his arms, making a small oof noise as he struggled to lift her.

They trudged, Namia clinging to Master Samuka’s shoulders as he waded through waist high water and then out onto the muddy shore beyond.

The howls came again, closer now. A chorus that spread through the jungle.

He didn’t say anything, but she could see the strain on his face as he held her. Every time she thought of saying something about walking he’d adjust his grip as if he could hear her unspoken words and trudge on.

Eventually the land seemed to firm beneath them. The jungle was less dense here too and Namia’s nose wrinkled as she smelled something burnt and sour. A clearing opened just ahead and Samukay sped up slightly, stumbling through the low lying foliage that seemed to catch at his boots and pants.

The moon was rising slowly over the edge of the clearing, a giant disc of light that made the shadows deeper. Master Samukay put her down gently so that she was half sitting, half leaning against a rock.

“Stay here,” he murmured. “It might come to a fight. Do your best with what you have, but I’m not expecting perfection, padawan.” He paused looking towards the jungle. “Under no exceptions are you to open yourself to the Force again. Understand?”

Namia nodded and leant against the rock, feeling the rough granular texture under her fingertips. She glanced down at her ankle and could see that the wet leather had distended with the swelling. The howls sounded again, almost on top of them now.

There was movement in the trees above them and Namia looked up to see the moonlight reflecting off green eyes. Beside her Samukay was fumbling in his backpack. He pulled out a short, strange looking horn and raised it to his lips blowing a short, sharp blast that echoed around the clearing. There was a moment of strange silence that followed. The creatures in the trees raised their faces to the sky and howled.

“What was that Master?” Namia asked.

“A call for help,” he answered unbuckling his lightsaber. “Hopefully they are close. Hopefully they get here in time.”

Namia didn’t ask who they were. She’d read enough in the archives to know about Felucians and their strange abilities with the Force. She’d also read about their eternal struggle with the darkside, and having felt the Force on this planet she could see why. Even now she still felt tainted by it.

“Ready?” Master Samukay asked. Namia nodded. The creatures in the treetops were circling now, moving swiftly from branch to branch, hooting and calling to each other. With an alarming swiftness Master Samukay bent forward and kissed her on the forehead. “Whatever happens padawan, know that I am and always have been very proud of you.”

He switched his lightsaber on just as the first creature leapt.

*

Her arms hurt. It didn’t seem to matter how many of these creatures she struck down, they just kept coming. Her blade darted out again and again.

Parry.

Thrust.

A slice here. A stab there.

The eerie bright glow of the lightsaber in the darkness has rendered her night vision almost useless, but it didn’t matter, everytime she swung she seemed to hit something. The creatures would dart away and be replaced by another one.

She stood back to back with Master Samukay, trying to put as little weight on her ankle as possible and swung. There was no finesse, no finer points of sword play. If the trainers at the Temple had seen her they would have deducted points of sloppy work and she probably would have received a stern talking to about handing the weapon like a sports bat.

She was so tired she no longer cared.

The creatures were an endless stream of open mouth terror. Four pairs of green eyes glinted above an open maw full of sharp, razor like teeth. It was taking all of her strength to keep her on her feet.

From somewhere in the forest came the noise of something heavy moving through the trees. It distracted her long enough for one of the creatures to get through her defences, grabbing onto her shoulder with its clawed fingers. It wrenched itself towards her neck, mouth open but she brought her lightsaber up, cutting it neatly in two. Her shoulder burnt with pain as the creature dropped at her feet, motionless and still.

“Keep it up padawan,” Master Samukay grunted with the effort. She nodded, too winded to talk.

The noise came again, as if a huge herd of beasts were stampeding through the trees. A second later the trees on the edge of the clearing were knocked sideways as a massive beast appeared. Namia yelped in surprise and pain, almost falling over as she tried to put weight on her injured ankle.

“Rancours,” she hissed. She batted away another creature and then realised the Rancours weren’t running towards her, instead they seemed to be controlled by creatures standing on their shoulders. Tall, broad humanoids who wore spiked armour and held long, curved bone knives in their hands. One of them, its armour painted with red markings, lifted a horn and blew. The rest of the rancours charged, tearing into the howling, four eyed creatures that surrounded them. Other humanoids in armour kept pace with the giant rancours, hitting the now snarling creatures with their long, curved clubs.

One of the howling creatures leapt for Namia. Its claws caught her across the back and the weight of it drove her into the ground. Her ankle twisted painfully for the second time and she screamed as she landed. Her lightsaber spun out of her grasp and skittered across the ground.

The creature’s claws and teeth tore into her shoulder. She screamed in pain again; hands scrabbling in the soft earth for her dropped lightsaber. She managed to flip herself on top of it and dislodged it, but then there was another one leaping for her now unprotected neck. She raised her arms in self-defence, just as a bolt of blue force lightning drove the creature from her. It skittered away, chittering in anger. Namia breathed and made another grab for her lightsaber. More bursts of lightning and more creatures skittered away.

The strange humanoids were almost on top of her and Master Samukay. Namia could see the blue crackling glow that surrounded each of the humanoids as they drew near. Any creatures who tried to attack were repelled before the humanoids swung their bone swords and sent the creatures flying. There was another blast of the strange horn and then the creatures that had attacked them were disappearing off into the darkness.

Namia lay in the mud and stared at the moon which was now glittering above them. She felt light headed and she touched her neck briefly. Her hands came away covered in thick mud and blood.

Pain seemed to fill all of her.

She knew she shouldn’t be cold, but for some reason she couldn’t stop shaking.

She stared at her hands and the way the moon glittered between her fingers. The world was spinning now, not the gyrating tumble of when she’d opened herself to the Force, but gently; inviting her to close her eyes against the pain.

She dropped her hand, feeling the weight of it as it landed in the mud. It was too heavy to lift. The world spun again with spears of pain that lanced from her shoulder and down her arm.

She was so cold.

Master Samukay appeared in her vision again, talking rapidly but she couldn’t understand what he was saying. She smiled at him, hoping that would be enough to calm him down, but it just made him shout more. He was joined by one of the strange humanoids, the one in the red painted armour. It said something and then extended a three fingered hand and placed it gently on her chest. Its hand glowed blue, a soft light that surrounded her, giving comfort and relief.

Despite her shields, she could feel the Force stirring around her, carrying her away on the tide.

*



It was still dark when she came to. The moon was setting on the horizon, sinking into the depths of the jungle, sliding down through the forest. Namia watched it quietly, unmoving as she tried to work out where she was and what had happened. She didn’t hurt anymore. She was warm and whatever she was wearing was dry, smelled faintly of mushrooms and fresh, composted earth.

A fire crackled merrily in a stone pit and there were more of the humanoids. Master Samukay was talking to one of them, his hands wrapped around a steaming cup.

The Felucian - she could remember what they were called now - laughed, its voice dry and cracking like breaking branches. She slowly pushed herself upright, marvelling at the fact that her shoulder didn’t hurt.

The clothes she had been dressed in were rough spun and out of a fibre she didn’t know. She rubbed the edges of the tunic between her fingers, frowning.

The last thing she remembered was the creatures attacking, the mud and so, so much blood. She touched her neck, but there was nothing there but a small tender spot. She shouldn’t be feeling this way. She shouldn’t feel so calm and relaxed. She frowned as an anxious thought jittered to the surface and then was sucked back down by the thick, rising tide of stillness.

“It’s made, if you can believe it, out of the fibrous mushrooms that grow around here. Although I don't think it's going to take on as a new fashion trend anytime soon.” Master Samukay’s voice was equally calm as he knelt down beside her and touched the edge of his robe. He pushed the cup into her hands. “Drink this.”

She grappled with the strange sense of ‘rightness’ but every time a question surfaced or she tried to follow a darker thread of thought it fluttered away from her, leaving her back in nothing but warm, accepting, stillness.

“Are you sure it won’t kill me?” She asked, giving him a skeptical look. At his horrified look she continued. “I’ve grown up around you Master, any reasonable person would be skeptical when you offer them food.”

He snorted. “Drink anyway. Then I’ll introduce you to our hosts.”

She took a sip, feeling the earthy and sweet taste fill her mouth. It drove out the last feelings of unease and she sighed as she gave it back. She shifted again but there was a sharp pain from her ankle. At her wince Master Samukay nodded.

“The shaman wanted to heal that too, but I suggested waiting until you were awake as, unlike the rest of your injuries, it wasn’t life threatening.”

“They healed me that quickly?” Namia could barely stop the skepticism that laced her words. “Are you sure you’re not exaggerating my injuries, Master? Even Master Che isn’t that fast.”

Master Samukay’s face paled slightly and he looked grim. “They were, padawan, trust me. I almost lost you back there, which isn’t a mistake I’m ever going to make again. That’s why I suggested to the shaman that we leave your ankle until you woke up. That way you would see what the Felucians can do, and also to help explain what happened to you today and why I don’t want you opening yourself to the Force on this particular planet.”

Namia nodded and Master Samukay motioned with his hand. The Felucian came closer, watching her with its head on the side. It said something, and Samukay nodded once. The Feucian opened the smaller of its two right hands. A blue orb glowed faintly in the center. The shaman motioned with the larger hand as it began to glow silver.

“Are you ready, padawan?” Master Samukay’s voice was quiet and calm by her ear. Namia nodded. Master Samukay took her shoulders and smiled.

“I want you to open yourself to the Force.”

“But you said.”

“Just a little padawan. That way you’ll see what happens with both your eyes and your ability. You’ll be fine. The Shaman will protect you.”

Namia nodded, not taking her eyes off the silver glow or the blue orb.

Samukay’s fingers tightened a little. “Then let’s begin.”

 

Blockhead: Ryder had it coming.

Guessing Games: Sweet teasing and the tone of the "guesses" are in character.

 

What an experience for Namia and her master on Felucia. the Shaman can heal

 

Namia and her master sure gave it all they had.

 

Glad you like them so far and that I got the characters right in Guessing Games - particularly as I'm not used to writing canon characters

Lucky for them! Thanks for reading

I don't know if they had much choice seeing as death was their only other option, but I get what you are saying Thank you so much for reading and commenting. It's much appreciated!