Escapees

The chamber, a curved-wall affair with creamy, sourceless lighting, echoed with shrieks, yelps, and excited babble. Young children of all manner of sentient species, from long wormish things to humanoids, played together as other, somewhat older children watched benignly, occasionally intervening when a fight threatened to break out, but otherwise remaining aloof. They had the look of islands in a stormy sea, and their expressions suggested the same resigned patience.

Not all of the children were Jedi apprentices, or even Force-Sensitives. But this was Alderaan, and the people knew very well how extensively Jedi children were educated. Outside of the Temple, humanoid children this age were scarcely old enough to walk about and prattle, but the Temple prided itself on teaching children to be articulate and attentive as early as possible. Some citizens paid very handsomely for the privilege of boarding their young at the Temple for even a few months. Not only that, but the Temple on Alderaan was less than one hundred kilometers from the Galactic Polysapient, the galaxy-famous medcenter also called "Big Zoo". Sentients went there often to give birth or to lay eggs or bud, and not all of them survived the attempt or had relations willing to take their offspring. It had been decided that early Jedi training and the teachings given to young sentients were not incompatible in the least, so the planet's major orphanage was adjacent to the Temple, and children intermingled freely.

Tonight was the night of the Alderaanian Festival of the Lights, second only to Lifeday when it came to important holidays. The Temple was all but deserted; even Jedi were not completely immune to the building excitement. Only a smattering of Masters and Knights and unlucky Padawans remained behind, and of course those children deemed "too young" as well as the older ones that had been appointed as "watchers" or "keepers".

The Jedi knew very well what would happen if the Younglings were taken out and allowed into the Festival. It had happened before. No number of watchers could contain all of them; a few children, infected by the celebration, always escaped, and once a few had escaped, the rest of them followed. And once they had escaped, even those who were considered to be well-behaved got themselves into trouble; stealing food and glow rods, getting trampled underfoot, finding dangerous situations that were difficult to straighten out. And then the other Alderaanian organizations would smile behind raised hands, and delicately hint that perhaps the Order was not capable of caring for children. So the youngest were given treats for the occasion and contained within the Temple. Older children who showed some responsibility were set to monitoring the Younglings and barred from the Festival, but heavily compensated for it.

The mass of Younglings engaged in play were also displaying the beginnings of skills and temperament, and learning important lessons about getting along in the outside world. Lessons like sharing, or at least hiding prizes away so people you don't like can't get it. Many were gathered here in this rounded chamber, but they ran, skittered, crawled, hopped, flew, and slid in and out of adjacent rooms in groups of varying size. A few remained at the sides, disoriented or shy or otherwise unwilling to dive into the chaos.

One of these, a stocky dark-haired little girl of human or very near-human origin, swept the chamber with wary eyes, her hands resting on her tiny hips. Ordinarily she would have been quite willing to join her friends, and maybe make new ones. But tonight, she knew, something was different. She could feel it, an exited anticipation hovering in the air. She had overheard her elders talking about something happening tonight. She knew that she would be allowed to see it next year, albeit briefly and as part of a pack, but at her age a year was more than an eternity, and she knew from some of the lessons disguised as games that one must act quickly or forfeit the prize.

And what prize would that be? Sweets? Shiny things? Feathers? Toys? The ability to do whatever it was that some of the older children could do, to make things move through the air? Avidly, her eyes scanned the room. The one door to a garden outside was closed, and it was not about to open for her. However, the long, low windows were all open to let in the cool night air. She maneuvered over to one of them and sat on the window seat to bounce up and down like a few of the other children were doing, surreptitiously turning to get a look.

The window wasn't very tall, but a little wiggling on her back or her stomach would let her through. There were no screens, and the ground just outside was carpeted in some kind of thick, springy plant. From daylight excursions, she knew that it made good padding and smelled nice, even though it tasted so sour that she would never try to eat it, not ever again. She wouldn't hurt herself or make a lot of noise climbing out and dropping to the ground, then.

Now the girl looked at the watchers, the "keepers", as they moved slowly through the tide of younger children, breaking up conflicts and tending to hurts feigned or real. It was no good, she realized quickly. They were too alert, turning around regularly to find anything out-of-the-ordinary, and she could tell that if she tried to wiggle out now, she would get caught, and there would be no more chance to see what this "fessy-vull" was about.

Besides... it was really dark outside. She was good with the dark - she couldn't see in it, exactly, but she could find her way from one place to another quickly and without making too many mistakes. It didn't scare her like it did some of her friends; she liked a little bit of dark.

This looked like a little bit too much, though. She knew that there were shrubs off to there, and a tree in that direction, and a lot of bugs and sleeping birds all over the place, but other than that? She couldn't see anything. Her imagination populated the vast space with monsters and slavers and Sith with very little prompting. She knew that none of that stuff was just waiting outside of the window for her, but the thought of just plunging outside still made her nervous. The girl furrowed her brow, trying to find an answer.

And then she smiled. A buddy. Of course! One of the things an older child that she idolized loved to tell everyone was that if you got lost or scared or confused or lonely or in trouble, you needed a buddy, or a "pard". According to her idol, a buddy was "like a friend, but better" and would make everything more fun. You wouldn't get lonely, and if you were lost or scared or confused or in trouble, the buddy would be too, so it wasn't be as bad.

Excited again, she scanned the crowd. Not many of her friends or creche-mates were close. The close ones were all parts of babbling knots of Younglings, and she knew from experience that it would be impossible to pull them away without making a fuss. Besides... many of her friends got, and stayed, really loud when they felt excited. It had to be someone new. Someone who wouldn't object.

Hokay, she thought. Someone else would have to do. Someone on the edges of the room. Sliding down off of the window seat and back to the floor, the girl crossed her arms meditatively and looked hard at each of the loners. Several were on their own because they had started throwing temper tantrums, and so had been deserted. Others had smuggled food after dinner and didn't want to share it. Some were content to play alone, or were involved in some kind of elaborate pantomime with others across the room. Some had been separated from their friends and were just trying to find them again. None of those would do. She frowned again, and crossed her arms more tightly. This might be hard.

"Hi!" She turned to face the speaker, a boy just about her own age who had come up close. He tilted his head at her, short see-through blond hair falling to one side. "Whatcha lookin' for?"

"I dunno," she said vaguely. She'd been hoping to find a girl... then again, it didn't look like anyone, boy, girl, or other, was interested. Maybe...

"Oh." The boy followed her gaze, looking out at the seething mass of Younglings. The girl looked at him again and made a decision.

"'Kay, I guess you'll do. C'mon!" Uncrossing her arms, she seized the boy's upper arm and all but dragged him into a currently vacant corner. He protested a little, but when she sat he came down with her, and he listened eagerly to her whispered plan. The conspirators moved to a windowseat.

"Wait!" he said when the girl started to try and get through. "We hafta make 'em look away." She sat back up and looked at him, puzzled. She hadn't thought about that.

"How?"

He grinned wickedly, plunging one hand into a pocket and palming a brown river-stone, smoothed and rounded by water. Ignoring the girl's quiet exclamation of "Where'd ja get that?", he held it in one open hand and screwed his eyes shut, concentrating.

The river stone quivered as if the hand that held it was shaking. Then the stone started to shake, to rock, to dance, to slowly, bit by bit, rise unsteadily up into the air. At about ten centimeters, it stopped moving and just hovered, barely trembling, as if suspended by an invisible wire. The boy opened his eyes and smiled broadly at the slack-jawed expression on the girl's face.

"I'm gonna make it hit somethin'," he informed her, as if she had asked a question. "Not real hard. But they-" and he jerked his chin, pointing it at one of the watchers- "are gonna think summun threw it."

Recognition lit the girl's eyes. "Oh. Ohhh." She narrowed them. "How're you doin' that?" She poked one hand at the floating river stone, waving her fingers above, below, and all around it. It remained there, hovering in midair.

"Dunno. I just can." He raised his open hand, and, as if on a pedestal, the pebble came up too. Suspending it at about eye height, he took on another expression of concentration as the girl watched, fascinated and raw with envy.

The boy flicked his free hand in a shoving motion besides the hovering pebble. The stone began to spin. The boy opened his eyes, said "No! Aagh! Not again!" and repeated the shoving motion several times. The stone spun faster, blurring, then began rocking and dipping violently as it whirled, as if attacked by minuscule diving birds. The boy stopped shoving and scowled at it.

The girl, trying desperately to keep from laughing, stuffed her fist into her mouth. She watched as the boy licked his lips and extended the open hand in front of him, then carefully lined up his free hand with the rapidly-spinning stone before repeating the shoving gesture.

Hit squarely this time, the spinning brown river stone sailed off as if launched by a catapult. The boy's lips formed the word "Oops" as the river stone flew upwards at a steep angle, hit the ceiling with a loud tok, and came down somewhere in the crowd. There was a crack, and an outraged cry, and the watchers all converged on one point as the Younglings briefly went silent, then began shrieking excitedly.

The boy winced guiltily and started to get up, but the girl, having removed her fist from her mouth, stopped him. "It's just Hayyve. He's got scales, he just scares easy. Now he's gonna get mad, an' start screamin'," she explained when he looked at her. As if on cue, the hapless Hayyve began to howl.

"How'd you know?" the boy asked in surprise, and she grinned smugly.

"Dunno. I just do." She glanced quickly at the watchers and nodded. "Let's go."

She wriggled out of the window feetfirst, instead of on her side, landing heavily on the fragrant plants and stumbling out of the way before the boy could land on her. She looked steadfastly at the darkest shadows she could find until her eyes adjusted.

When the boy's feet hit the ground, he almost fell over, and it was with effort that he straightened up, blinking, the light from the window silhouetting his shoulders and neck. He squinted. "Whoah. It's... real dark."

"It is?" the girl asked, looking around. There was plenty of light- the windows, lights shining between the trees, even the moon, Delaya, was out tonight. It was bright enough to cast shadows, and she couldn't help wondering why she'd been afraid eariler. Now that she was outside, she could see just fine. "Don't worry," she told him, using her best reassuring voice. "I can see. If you get lost, I'll help."

"I guess so," the boy muttered, unconvinced. He took one step and then stopped, eyes widening. "Uh oh."

"What?" the girl asked, distracted by a barely-heard snatch of unfamiliar music.

"We are gonna be in so much trouble." The dread in his voice made the girl look back sharply as the boy started babbling. "We're not supposed to be out alone at night. The Master said so. We hafta go back. Maybe they won't notice. Maybe-"

"You comin', or what?" the girl interrupted, taking several steps towards the source of the music.

Unwilling to get stuck outside alone, the boy followed tentatively. "They're gonna kill us. An' what's out here, anyway? Could be kidnappers - cultists - stabby murder people. I don't want-"

"Don't worry about it," she told him. "You'll be my buddy, 'kay? My pard. I'll take care of you, you'll take care of me. We'll be back later, and nobody has to know anything." When he hesitated a bit more, she reached back, grabbed his hand, and lead him past the darkness.

Hours passed before they returned, dazed by all the lights and colors, fingers and faces liberally coated with sweet, sticky residues, gabbling happily together about the things they'd seen and done.

"The thrantas- the thrantas, didja see the thrantas!? They were huge!"

"Never so many people in the same place at the same time before..."

"An' the music-" The girl stopped talking abruptly and looked up at the window. It was closed, and no light shone from it.

"What?" It took the boy another moment to figure it out. "Uh oh. We are gonna die. They are gonna kill us."

"Shaddup. Nobody's dying." Thinking fast, the girl whipped her head first in one direction, then in the other. She closed her eyes for a few seconds, sucking her cheeks in, and then, an instant before the boy would have asked what she was doing, opened her eyes again. "'Kay. I don't think anybody's mad or lookin' for us. It's prolly lights-out right now."

"Oh." The boy digested that, and followed the girl gingerly as she picked her way around the wall. "Where'r you goin'? The door's locked when it's lights-out!"

The girl stopped for a moment, then continued walking. "I'll think of somethin'."

The door was, indeed, locked. It had a faintly-glowing keypad attached, but neither of the two wayward children knew the code.

"Toldja."

"Shaddup." The girl rocked from one foot to the other, thinking again. She reached out with one hand and laid it over the keypad for several seconds, frowning. Then, abruptly, she smiled. "C'mere. You think you can do what you did with that rock again?"

She waited impatiently until the boy, confused, caught up to her. He reached his hand up and touched the lock, then smiled slowly.

"It's good. It's doing its job, an' it's doing it well. It's happy."

The girl stared at him as if he had sprouted an extra head. "It's a door. Doors don't have feelings." The boy opened his mouth to debate that point, and she cut him off. "Can't you... I dunno, bash it down?"

"No!" The boy put both palms on the door protectively. "It doesn't work that way! It's not doing anything wrong!"

The girl narrowed her eyes at both door and boy. "How're we gonna get in? It's lights-out, so all the doors are locked. Windows on the ground, too."

"Dunno." The boy turned towards the door and touched the keypad. "It thinks we shouldn't be inside. It thinks we're outsiders."

"Well, tell it we're not outsiders! Tell it... tell it we belong inside!" The girl swung her arms, frustrated.

"I... I can try." The boy closed his eyes, and opened them again almost immediately. "Hey!"

"What?!"

"It told me a bunch of numbers!" The boy's face suggested that he'd just been favored by a saint; he shone with a radiant, incredulous joy.

"Yeah? Maybe they're the code!" Despite herself, the girl started to feel excited again.

The boy's face fell. "No. I don't think it is, anyways."

The girl brushed his hand aside and touched the keypad again, scowling. "Rrrgh. 'Kay. When people come in, they usually touch... this one and this one and this one, then this one." She could feel it, like a sticky residue. She tapped those keys in that order. Nothing happened. She dropped her hand, disappointed.

Recognition dawned in the boy. He reached back up. "Then you hit this one again, then this one, and this one twice..."

With a satisfied-sounding click, the door unlocked and slid open. Good spirits completely restored, the truants grinned at each other and went inside. The door closed soundlessly behind the pair as they stole gleefully through the dark room, back towards the other Younglings. They were soon interrupted again.

The girl froze in horror as she heard the approaching footsteps. The boy picked up on what the sound meant very quickly.

"We are gonna die."

"Shaddup." She looked around wildly, eyes wide in the twilight. "We hafta start fighting. So they don't know we've been out. That's the only way." The girl sucked her cheeks in again and bit down, making an odd whimpering sound in the back of her throat as she did so.

"Oh... yeah. 'Kay." Without any further warning, he shoved her. Hard.

Stumbling, the girl opened her mouth and let out an ear-piercing shriek, then rammed into the boy and bit him, repeatedly, on the shoulder. He tried to push her away, and his hands were wetted by something hot and thicker than spit. Blood! But it certainly wasn't his blood. As he realized that, he let out a cry of his own and thrashed. Before he could do more than flail, one of the adult Jedi moving through the halls had turned on the lights and separated the pair.

"Such a disgrace! Entered apprentices brawling in the Temple like the children of common thugs! Trust me when I say that the Head will hear about this! This is a place of learning!"

As they were led away to an uncertain fate, the girl turned, unnoticed, to the boy. And winked. Then they were taken before the Head of the academy to be disciplined, neither feeling guilty in the least.

[thank you Charamei for being my beta]