Before the Saga (UDC VIII) Nothing and Everything--Weeks 16 and 17 (10/30)

What all your drabbles reflect so nicely: the challenge of being a Jedi. Every single day! To keep one´s emotions in check. To serve a greater good! And to explore the Force.

 

The Jedi lead very peculiar yet interesting lives that I like to consider and then write about...at least my interpretation of how those lives exist inside and outside the Jedi Temple.

Now for the drabbles for Week Fourteen...

Week 14: The One Left Behind

66. Talk
Aduman sat within the safety of his quarters. It was one week after the rescue…and he couldn't leave the room’s dark comfort and venture outside among the residents and staff of the Jedi Temple. Not even his padawan was allowed into this protective sanctum. He didn't want to isolate the boy; Chevor was the only creature he almost wanted to speak with...

A knock came from the other side of the door. “You must come out.” It was Chevor, and now Aduman didn’t want to speak with him.

“Go away.”

“How about ‘no’, Master?’’

“How about ‘go to hell’, Apprentice?’’

67. Silence
“Where are you?” Aduman’s voice, a whisper kept still behind a metaphorical wall constructed through determination and stern Jedi training, called out to Naima in the darkness.

Six weeks had passed since her death, and he spent more hours trying to contact her than focusing upon his worldly responsibilities. His pleas had been met with natural yet infuriating silence. His quest to find her somewhere, anywhere beyond Life was thus far impossible. She was part of the Force now. Nobody who passed into the Netherworld could ever return. How he could ever find Naima, let alone speak to her again?

68. Smile
The man staring back from the mirror was dead, yet he lived.

Aduman’s reflection was a visible reminder of his reality. Sadness had become the only emotion he could feel. Happiness was extinct and belonged to another man who could never exist again. No chance to smile or laugh anymore. That was gone forever.

It wasn’t proper for a Jedi to become mired in grief. Those who served the Light Side must have peace contained within their minds.

“Could I find peace at the bottom of a vat of Whyren’s Reserve?” Then he let a scoff pass between his lips.

69. Laugh
Aduman saw Chevor and the young padawan called Kerensa chatting in the hallway near the lightsaber training chambers. His apprentice supposedly ceased to have any kind of relationship with the girl. That denial made very little impression upon him back then, because Naima was still alive.

The girl laughed at some comment made by Chevor, then tossed her long honey-blonde braid aside from her shoulder. Chevor reached for the braid and stroked the bottom. Kerensa didn’t pull away, despite the fact they were in a public corridor.

Aduman wanted to envy Chevor, but only felt sad this romance couldn’t last.

70. Cry
The box was wrapped in silver tissue paper. There were no attachments on the box, not even an identifier tag to indicate who placed the box in Aduman's quarters or any clue to what lay within the box. But it sat like some foreboding potent on his bed.

It remained unopened for two days. He knew it contained something that belonged to Naima. But he couldn't open the box until the mental block that held his grief disappeared. Only after tears were shed and curses screamed did Aduman open the box and discovered the golden bracelet with the rose pendant.

 

Week 15: Affair of the Heart

71. First
Zia’s initial encounter with Luz Mikayzd occurred at the pazaak table in the afternoon. By the evening they were both on duty (Zia as cook in the Rose of Shara’s main galley, Luz as bandleader in the Taris Ballroom). In those hours between afternoon and evening one thousand credits were won and lost, and countless words were exchanged.

His flashy clothes or sarcastic demeanor didn’t impress her at first. But more time spent together and the right mixture of alcoholic elements in their cocktails enabled her to see a nice guy that she would like to get to know better.

72. Impressions
"You go first." Luz pointed at the large rectangle of jade-colored wax lying on the table. "Put your finger into that stuff, and that will leave a perfect copy of your finger that can be made into a ring."

Zia laughed. It was the latest gimmick meant to provide the passengers with more trinkets to take home and the cruise line another source of revenue.

"We've only known each other for two weeks. Isn’t this kind of early?"

"You’ll want something to remember me by."

"Like I could ever forget you." But she put her finger into the impression wax.

73. Safer
Two rounds of cocktails led into an overly gratuitous display of physical affection in the crew bar. Eventually they stumbled down into the passenger areas, almost got caught dancing outside the Ryloth Lounge, managed to steal several pieces of flatware from the First Class Dining Saloon...

Zia couldn't remember anything after sliding down the banister of the First Class staircase. But something happened that night six weeks ago.

The result was a positive and negative conundrum. The positive came in the form of a flashing blue circle, and the negative was the sudden understanding her drunken coupling created potential offspring.

74. Check
Zia sat in the ship's infirmary waiting area trying not to bite her lip off. The pregnancy test she bought in the pharmacy had shown her one possibility. But she needed something more reliable to confirm that horrible possibility. Although she already knew there was a new occupant inside her body. It was terrifying, even though the new resident would be no larger than a bean. Yet there was a glimmering of the Force within her...coming from this new being.

So the test wasn't really necessary. But she needed that confirmation…there it was on the screen…the end of her life?

75. Last
Luz kicked his boot against the marble floor. "Will I ever see you again?" He kept his gaze focused upon the blue and green interwoven lines.

Zia kept her back to him. She wouldn't tell him about the new creation from their union. He was going to a bigger, better gig on the Shimmering Princess, and didn’t want to screw that up.

"No." She turned away headed down the corridor from the man she’d only known for six weeks but felt like she could have known until death.

Only when she rounded the corner did she allow tears to flow.

 

(reply to most recent reply coming soon)

Week 16: The Searcher

76. Mountain
Aduman climbed to the top of Mount Isandra. Then he spent an interminable amount of time searching for the stone pyramid where those legendary Whills archives were supposedly hidden at the center of some mysterious maze.

He saw a tall stone pyramid with softened edges that lay at the center of the Sacred Lake. Perhaps that was his destination, and maybe those archives really existed. Or maybe his imagination had pulled him into pursuing imaginary relics, despite Nellith and Ophalin Kaido’s assurances.

Yet he was here on Xaan Doro, so he had to believe those archives existed in some fashion.

77. River
Aduman ‘s descent from the mountain led him along a winding path that cut through the jungle until he reached the River of Light.

He knelt down by the river and picked up a large black stone. The rocks that lay scattered among the rushing water were infused with Force energy. Of course Aduman thought it was a superstitious notion, because inanimate objects didn’t possess Force sensitivity…

…the stone between his fingers thrummed as if the object absorbed and then reflected life energy.

Maybe it was alive?

“Strange planet,” he muttered, then placed the stone back into the flowing water.

78. Tree
Aduman walked away from the riverside, pulled inexorably toward a large ch’ala tree that radiated Force energy like a supernova. Force sensitive trees were ancient reminders of the connection between the Jedi and the Light Side, hence the reason why one certain specimen lay at the heart of the Jedi Temple.

What resonated from the ch’hala tree wasn’t just Force energy. It was stronger, immense, surrounding him, unseen yet palpable.

Perhaps this world was the source of a Light Side nexus? These portals were supposed to exist in various hidden corners of the galaxy. But could one really exist here?

79. Earth
Aduman closed his eyes and permitted the sensation of the combined Force rhythm that emanated from the rocks, trees, and everything which inhabited all corners of Xaan Doro to enter his consciousness. The smell of humidity-infused earth filled his nostrils and flooded into his mind. It was a tangible reminder that life was omnipresent in the physical realm. All things and beings were filled and reinforced by the Light Side.

He sighed. This was a lesson from those celestial watchers who controlled events in the Living World and Afterlife. Life after death was important, but so was life within life.

80. Horizon
Aduman stood at the prow of the ferry taking him to the necropolis called the Isle of Repose. It was the ultimate destination, where the stone pyramid that housed the Whills archives among ancient bones of priests and priestesses. He would use the golden rose charm from Naima’s bracelet to open the door and find the lost repository.

He took in a deep breath. This journey was a first step toward knowledge that would change the future of physical life in the galaxy. All the suffering that had occurred since Naima’s death was in the service of a greater cause.

Week 17: Lost Words

(this set of drabbles occurs in 3 ABY)

81. History
Meaithe turned the pages of the ancient book she discovered in the basement of the history building of the Cultural University. The text was unreadable since it was penned in an indecipherable script. But she already knew this volume was part of the lost Jedi Codices written by the First Grand Master, Kinel Skywalker.

It was her job to translate that vanished language, so knowledge of the Afterlife could be spread across the galaxy. Returning knowledge of that important component of the life cycle to the Living World would help prevent another recurrence of darkness…well, that was the Overseers’ intention.

82. Write
"How am I supposed to do any translating?" Meaithe held up the book for Aduman’s perusal. "I don’t even know what language this is supposed to be."

"Tythonese." The former Jedi Master turned spiritual guide had been dead for five hundred years but was still able to flip a pile of datacards in mid-air without touching them.

Meaithe frowned. “How can I begin understanding these words?”

Aduman let the datacards drop to the wooden floor. “You have resources available to you.”

“Accessing the Universal Archives is difficult when I’m trapped within flesh.”

“Then utilize physical resources. The Manchisky Codex, perhaps?”

83. Archive
One week of making some valiant attempt at translating the ancient volume using the Manchisky Codex had yielded nothing for Meaithe but a title.

“The Book of Eternity.” She turned the yellowed pages wrapped in a faded brown Bantha hide. “This is the final volume of the Jedi Codices, and the second composed by Kinel Skywalker before his death.” It was the last volume, but the most important because it would help Luke Skywalker, one of two living descendants of that ancient Grand Master, reintroduce knowledge about the Afterlife and how to retain one’s spiritual identity after cessation of life.

84. Artifact
“Do you feel like a relic?” Chevor passed his hand through the wall, then pulled it back out.

“Of course. But we’ve existed for so long that I can’t help feeling like some artifact.” Aduman stared out the window. “Sometimes it’s impossible to keep going across the centuries.”

The former apprentice flexed his fingers. “We’re going to continue existing until this mission we agreed upon is completed.”

The former master continued his perusal of the garden outside the boardinghouse. “I agreed to see this knowledge passed to Skywalker’s heir just like you did. Fortunately he will learn this knowledge soon.”

85. Memory
“Do you ever remember anything from your past lives?” Chevor asked, levitating near the sitting room ceiling in the old Jedi meditation position.

Aduman stared at his own hands, now fashioned from ephemeral stuff rather than tangible flesh. “I always remember appendages. Hands, claws, or something of that ilk.”

“Out of everything you ever possessed, you always remember hands?”

“Touch is a very underestimated sense.”

“I won’t argue that point.”

“So you remember what things are supposed to feel like as well.”

“Mostly people.”

“I only remember one person.”

“You’ll be with her again.”

“That’s always been my plan.”

“Indeed.”

 

These are gorgeous, as I expected. Your combination of lyrical writing, deep empathy for your characters, and superb world building are always first class.

I love how you weave the idea of "the same eyes in different people" through the rebirths and in the desperate attempt to reach across the chasm that separates the living from the dead. Wonderful writing here. I hope you continue these.