An Incident on Dantooine - Quatra

Sweating, I whirled and blocked, my new lightsaber humming menacingly, deafeningly, thrusting and twisting aside as if I fought some invisible enemy. The pattern of the exercise, one I had done countless times before with the little pink-bladed practice lightsabers, was changed altogether. My new blade made routine into something exciting and dangerous, even when I was tiring, like now. A misstep here would do a lot more than sting terribly and burn my skin.

Of course, I wasn't in the habit of making missteps. Younglings who burn themselves regularly are usually coaxed into the Service Corps; those who become Padawans have to be at least passable with a lightsaber. I wasn't at the top of the class, but I was good.

My new lightsaber's balance and heft were different, though, from a practice 'saber. I didn't burn myself or my clothing, but at times the thing reacted in my hands as if it sought out my flesh. Almost like the weapons of the "Jedi" in certain holocomedies, which actively seek out things to cut to pieces. I was getting used to it, promising myself that I would rebuild it to be easier to handle.

The lightsaber started to make an ominous sputtering sound, the blade breaking up, and with a sigh I shut it off so it could cool. It deserved better. I needed a Master who would point out what I needed to do to fix problems like that. To a Jedi, few things are more embarrassing than a lightsaber which fizzes out. Or explodes, for that matter, but I dearly hoped that I had built mine better than that.

Sliding it into one of the pockets in my robe, I looked up towards the sun. No time like the present, I told myself reluctantly. I had to get back to the Enclave.

So, after settling and preparing myself, I cast myself out like a net, reaching for the Enclave and the people in it. If the Dantari were real - and that seemed less and less likely as time wore on - then I would just have to deal with it. I had to get back.

I considered going in a straight line, through Dantooine's crust and molten core. I couldn't think of any reasons why it wouldn't work. But an insistent nudge that I was starting to recognize as my precog ability made me decide not to. It's a truism that apprentices and Padawans often do impossible things with the Force because they haven't learned to recognize what impossible is, but mind doesn't always conquer matter.

Instead, for the second time I followed the curve of the planet, ignoring the speckles of life and crystal caves. It was a long ways to go to find the Enclave, after all, and this time I was not going to allow myself to be distracted.

But it happened anyway. I felt a... not quite a tug ... on myself as I projected. It was almost as if I had been sweeping along in a cloak that was so long it brushed the ground, and the corner had been snagged by a thorn or a half-buried nail. It stuck to me. I could have pulled away and kept searching, but something made me turn.

Ah. Unless the Dantari had found themselves a god-hero, this was a fully trained Sensitive, strong and clear and very, very bright. And there was another with it, smaller, but just as bright. The first one wasn't anyone I knew, but I recognized the second with a little shock of glee. Malak!

I circled, mindlessly pleased, for a moment before focusing myself on the two. From the stranger-Jedi I caught nothing more than amused satisfaction laid over triumph and a strange confidence. We were too far away to swap much information, but I was pretty sure that Malak was having a reaction similar to mine. I picked up on a demand, and although I had no way of telling what it was, I did my best to convey direction and distance.

It took a while. I couldn't send or receive words or even images. Still, the unknown Jedi - a Master, surely - was very patient, and I had long suspected that Malak is able to track me. We got things sorted out, and I trickled back to my body as they started heading in the right direction.

Even as slow and deliberate as my pitiful mind-projection was, I beat them by a decent margin. After opening my eyes again, I spent a few hours working the stiffness out of my muscles, exorcising a headache, gathering everything I wanted to take with me, and fretting. I knew that they would be able to find me, but what would happen then?

The unknown Jedi was sure to be upset at me for stealing a speeder and running off the way I had. I still didn't have a good answer as to why I had done so, and the fact that anyone was looking for me, particularly so far from the Enclave, meant that it was a matter of some importance. Would this be one of the Masters that shouted when upset, or the disappointed kind? I could handle shouters. Masters who became very disappointed in me, though, made me feel small and worthless. Somehow they were scarier than the loud ones.

The punishment for this was sure to be much harsher than anything I'd earned previously. I'd never stolen anything - well, not without giving it back a few hours later, and pretty much in the same condition. And that only a few times. I'd definitely never wrecked a speeder before. Mostly, when I or any of my friends got into trouble, it was because we'd been caught somewhere that we weren't supposed to be. Usually training at night or spying on headblinds or investigating quarters. And usually, caught or not, if I was anywhere, Malak was with me.

That was another concern. He'd stayed behind on a few escapades, but he'd always known about them beforehand and told whoever was going that it would end badly - and he'd been right, too. What would he say, what did he think? I'd seen my best friend get shouting-mad once or twice, but never with me. Being shouted at would be infinitely preferable than disappointing him. Losing his regard. Not being friends any more.

The thought was almost enough to make me abandon the crash site and hide. Almost.

A sense of duty rooted me to the ground when I saw their airspeeder, a smallish sporty-looking model that Malak could probably wax lyrical about, finally appear on the horizon. I felt like I had swallowed a basket's worth of abdominal parasites, but I stayed as it circled and sank, as graceful a touchdown as I had ever seen.

The doors jacknifed elegantly open over the roof as a female voice became audible. "This model is good for twenty years if properly maintained, boy. You will complete the cooldown checklist. I need to know that you will obey me, even when I give you orders you don't like."

The speaker emerged, blinking in the fading sun. She was a fairly average-looking Bothan, one of the short-faced subspecies, and her fur was a honeyed brown touched with gray. I swallowed as she all but sauntered closer.

"Padawan Revan, I presume?" I nodded. My mouth had gone dry; somehow all the water in it had become sweat, which was now emerging on my skin. The Bothan Jedi breathed in deeply and blew all her air out at once. "I've been using that remark for half of my life, and nobody ever gets it. Do you just not watch old adventure holos anymore? Come on. The classic? 'Livingstone?'" She had a strange, precise way of almost hurling the words out of her mouth, as if each one was a thrown dart.

I blinked. "I... I'm sorry, Master, but I have no idea what you mean." Her fur rippled.

"Pity. I am Master Quatra Ary'lya. Good, you've heard of me. We've been looking for you."

I blinked again as a flurry of questions burst into my head. Quatra - the surname she had taken meant "traveler/wanderer of Clan Alya" in Bothese - was almost famous. She'd helped to kill two terrentateks as a Padawan in the Great Hunt, and in the intervening years she had become a highly sought-after teacher. Why was she here, on Dantooine? Why'd she been looking for a nobody like me? Didn't she still have a Padawan learner? Wasn't she supposed to be taller, less... average?

I voiced none of them.

At some point Malak had finished with the "checklist", whatever that was, and stepped out of the speeder. He approached at a very deliberate pace, although I sensed that he would have preferred to run. He stopped behind Quatra and mouthed something.

I shook my head minutely and he mouthed it again, more slowly. This time I caught 'plan', several 'o's, and what must have been 'look!'. I shook my head again, and he sent me a tangled burst of thought. I couldn't even begin to sort it out; the thought's contents were covered by eagerness, and relief, and anticipation, all strong enough that I half expected to see him bouncing from one foot to the other. If I hadn't been preoccupied what with dread and all, I would have grinned. It looked like he wasn't mad at me after all.

Quatra made a small sound that, in a lesser person, would have been an irritated chuff. "The speeder you took was a gift, Revan. Bala dealt a great favor to this one mining colony. I told her not to accept it, because there are definitely strings attached, but she never listens to me anymore." She began to inspect the overturned vehicle that had served as my shelter after its crash, muttering about levers and proper application of force. I turned to my friend, still feeling anxious.

"You look half crazy," Malak decided in a deceptively calm voice, looking me up and down with a critical eye.

I could see how he had come to that conclusion. Somehow in my irrational rush to run away, I'd neglected to bring any changes of clothes or my basic hygiene kit. I was very unkempt, what with my stained, rumpled robe and oily tangles of hair. Still, a remark like that needed a response.

"Pessimist," I said affectionately. "I'm half sane. But I wouldn't mind a real bath."

"Yeah," he agreed. The words almost burst out of his mouth. With a visible effort, he spoke slowly and clearly. "Revan, I was meeting with Master Vrook about getting a new Master. He's never just come out and said no." Malak's control broke down and he started to talk very quickly. "And Master Nisi came in in the middle of this and said that you weren't in the Enclave, and her speeder was gone, and Master Vrook stood up and said that you would never have stolen anything, and Revan I think he likes you-" he paused long enough to take a breath "-and then they both ran off and I followed them and you were gone, and I said it was impossible you never go anywhere without telling me-" here as he breathed he gave me a hurt look "- and Master Nisi said that obviously you did, and Master Vrook said that there had to be a reason for this, because you're usually stable and, and well-adjusted-" He paused to gulp air again "- so they both talked to me for a really long time and I told them Revan, I had to tell them about everything you said about Kreia and- " breathe "- Master Vrook said she'd never had a Padawan so young before, and Master Nisi tried to call her, I mean Kreia, but she wasn't there so they made up all these search groups and turned out all the Knights and Masters and Revan I got Quatra!"

"I think that's the longest sentence you've ever said," I commented as I tried to sort out what I'd heard. Evidently I was more important than I'd thought. "What do you mean, you 'got' Quatra? Why is she here? And breathe. You're hard to understand when you talk like that." We were the same age, but sometimes Malak seemed younger than me. Nemo says that boys mature more slowly, that's why.

Leveling a glare at me, Malak performed a breathing exercise to settle himself. It took less than a minute, during which Quatra opened up the speeder's maintenance hoods and crawled into one. I watched her, having no idea what she was trying to do, wondering if I ought to offer my help.

Visibly calmer, my friend explained himself. "The council and all the adult Jedi did this meditation session where they tried to find you, but it didn't work. They said you were 'hidden'. I told them that I can track you with the Force. Sometimes," he added. "When you want to be found. I think Quatra was visiting Master Bala Nisi. She picked me to come with her. The other Masters weren't sure it would work; they said I was too young. Quatra says that they're searching systematically, wherever they sense a crystal cave, not the way I do it."

He licked his lips. "We've been looking for weeks. A lot of stuff's been happening, Revan. Quatra's kind of hard to get along with. She's prickly. And really arrogant. And kind of testy when she hasn't got enough sleep. I don't understand her sense of humor at all. She says that her Master was trained by Kreia, and I can see that, because she's tricky and keeps testing me. She keeps calling me, 'boy', too, like she forgets my name or something."

Quatra's voice rose from the speeder's maintenance compartment. "I need some flaws, boy, or you'd be shamed by my perfection!"

"And her hearing's really good, too," I murmured. Not a surprise; she was a Bothan, after all. I glanced at Malak again. If I was any judge, he was a little bit taller now than the last time I'd seen him. Already his eyes were level with mine. I noticed something else in his expression. "You like her, don't you?"

Malak grinned guiltily and kept his voice down as the maintenance compartment shut loudly. "Yeah. She's... she's crazy, but in a good way. She's been teaching me a lot of things.... I think she knows a little about everything. She said... she said that she's done all she can with her last apprentice, and she's looking for a new one. Since she's pretty well thought of, she doesn't have to wait a few years between Padawans." He winced a little. "Oh. Sorry, Revan. I... I can ask if she'll consider you. If you want."

It took a moment before I realized what he was talking about. "What? Oh, no. No. She'll be good for you. I know how much you want a good Master. And I don't know if I'll even be a Padawan by the time you take me home, 'Lak. I have to face what I've done."

The overturned speeder roared into life. Its repulsorlifts activated, making the air shiver. Then something... flexed... in the Force.

The airspeeder quivered and started to lift free of the ground. Not evenly, but the parts of the roof which had been practically pressed into the ground slowly eased free of it, though soil stuck in clumps and clods. After a second, the Force wrenched and the entire airspeeder flipped, stopping and settling top side up. Its repulsorlifts steadied the thing and, motor purring, it floated easily. The spiderwebbed impact-pattern on the front windscreen wasn't quite as blindingly obvious from the outside, but it still made me wince. How was I going to pay for that?

A side window retracted and Quatra stuck her big-eared head out. "You doubted me, didn't you? Admit it. When we were coming down and I said I could fix it, you doubted me, boy." Her teeth showed in a meat-eating smile, and I told myself that I would feel uneasy around someone like her. I knew it wasn't the truth, though. I can get used to almost anything.

"I never," Malak protested. "You're imagining things." He hesitated. "Teach me how to do that?"

Quatra laughed heartily. "Sure, Malak. If you can handle me, I'll teach you. But don't tell your friends you have it easy. I plan on making you work. How else would you learn?"

I felt a surge of painful envy and clamped down on it. I was happy for him. I was glad that it looked like he was getting a Master he liked. But to get Quatra! Seeing her, I wanted such a teacher, wanted one badly enough that my head swam with jealousy and a lump formed in my throat. A real teacher, who could and would help her student to learn all kinds of things, a teacher who liked her student, who could even be, sometimes, fun. But I would not show this. I would not. My eyes stung and I blinked furiously. I turned my face away and opened my watering eyes wide so that no one could mistake them for tears.

The barely-audible humming whine of the repulsorlifts eased off, followed by the engine noise. The speeder's door closed. I focused on my breathing, keeping my face blank. It had occurred to me that enough time had passed since the bleeding had stopped that I might be about to start again. In some of her hints, Laury had implied that fertile human females could get emotional each month before they bled. Something about hormonal cycles. Oh. Lucky me.

Malak sent me a thought. It was a fairly empty one, sort of an "ahem" or a "hey", more to get my attention than anything else. I turned to see Quatra standing with her head tilted, hands on her hips, looking at me. Her eyes and the position of her fur, if I could read Bothan expressions at all, indicated some puzzlement.

"I'm not sure what to do with you," she said softly, as if to herself. "I don't know why, but you remind me of me somehow... I can talk Bala around. Giving her speeder back will help, of course. She can help me talk the others around. They're all more afraid than angry, I think. They don't want to lose you, Revan. You definitely have a champion in Vrook, and I used to think that he would never champion anyone, the old stick. But what should I do with you?"

I waited until it became clear that she wanted an answer. "Find me a teacher?" I felt as if my heart had risen into my throat, replacing the envious lump I'd had earlier.

Quatra bared her teeth in her meat-eating Bothan grin. "I suppose so. We can't have you squandering your talent here in the wilderness, can we?"

Evidently I'm more important than I thought I was.