#nomara anesh

Jidné fixed herself a cup while staring intently at the Holocron shard. She recalled Cal’s words from yesterday, and right after that, Darth Vader’s specifications of the contract followed. It frustrated her that it was the thing that kept her awake way into the wee hours until it had mentally exhausted her to sleep.

Her mind concocted an endless list of assumptions, theories, and scenarios that she forgot to take a sip from her cup to slow herself down. The images replayed to no end, some of them were interjections of her own memories from the day of the Jedi Purge; her breath shuddered, for no matter how many times she blinked them away, the memories and the moments that are yet to be—from her meditation before and the premonitions now—flashed behind her eyes. The sounds she imagined were starting to sound too surreal, covering her ears to shut them out proved futile.

Jidné’s head shot up, interrupted by her droid barging in with a series of panicking chirps.

“Who is it, ID-3?”

“Bee… Beep, trill,” the droid answered rather nervously, the tone of his chirps caused Jidné’s eyebrows to pull together.

Jidné jogged away from the galley and headed to the lounge—she asks ID-3 to relay the transmission to the holotable’s receiver and the droid promptly obeyed, twisting his connector in the port left and right until the transfer became successful.

The projection of Darth Vader from the waist up crackled into existence at the center of the holoprojector. Jidné approached the holotable, the projection towered a few feet above her that she kept her head tilted up and stood at a distance away from the table.

“Lord Vader,” she greeted with the same steely tone of voice she used on the dark lord. “How untimely of you to drop by.”

“I require a report of your progress, Sheedra,”

Jidné clenched her jaw.

“Did you find the boy?”

Her shoulders heaved, “Yes. I’ve found him in hiding… though he’s not aware of me yet.”

“And what of the Holocron?”

Jidné played dumb—a risky move for a young Jedi who’s also in hiding—and pulled her eyebrows together.

“Is that the vital thing you seek of him?”

“Yes. Does he still have it?”

The bounty hunter shakes her head in earnest, “I haven’t… seen him hold it yet. Obviously, he’s kept it in his ship for safekeeping.”

The longer this conversation went, the more cemented her assumptions became.

“My Inquisitors have already failed in recovering that Holocron from the Jedi,” he raised his finger in her face, regardless if it was via hologram. “Do not fail me like they did, Sheedra.”

He hissed at the utterance of her surname, Jidné could visualize the clenching of Vader’s teeth through that mask’s mouthpiece when he did. The hint wasn’t easy to miss, especially with that steady yet foreboding tone; she could’ve sworn she felt the interior of her ship rattle upon the intensity of the dark lord’s words.

Jidné stood her ground and steeled her voice, not tolerating being told what to do in her own turf and on her own expertise. She almost raised her voice back in an attempt to dominate his volume.

“With all due respect, m’lord, don’t ever tell me how to do my job.”

Taken aback by the child’s words, Darth Vader’s broad shoulders evidently eased, as the resolution of the hologram blurred and cracked with static in synch with his breathing. He leaned forward, closer to the lens of his holoprojector, he raised his finger at her again.

“You are fortunate it is I who employed you. Consider this your warning, child. The Emperor would not have forgiven this as I did.”

Without needing a response from her, Vader ended the transmission on his end and the projection of the girl dissolved into nothingness. He returned into the silent solitude of his meditation chamber, a black shell that hid him away and concealed his true self from everyone else.

A long exhale wafted through the mouthpiece of his mask as he leaned back against the seat of his chamber. His calm mechanical breathing ricocheted in the organic walls of his sanctum. He recalled the conversation with the bounty hunter, he sensed something within the girl and the delivery of her words—he gave himself the benefit of the doubt and deduced it was the usual anxiety one would have when reporting to him, afraid that they might step into the wrong foot and have to elaborate themselves.

“I sense a disturbance in the Force… and in that child.” He purred, his leather between his gloved fingers squeaked as he gripped on the armrests of his sanctuary’s throne.

Robotic limbs from the ceiling whirred and lowered towards his head, its pincers gingerly clamped at the hem of his helmet, with a single click of the inner mechanism the limbs carefully took off the layers of his mask one by one. With the final layer was removed, light is shed upon the true face of Vader: sickly, calloused skin that aged as it healed from fatal burns, a wrinkled bag of skin that crumpled whenever he blinked his sunken, sorrowful eyes, and a rupture on the top of his head ran from one point to the other.

Another set of robot limbs appeared, vials of Bacta and syringes were fixed on where their pincers ought to be. In his first few years of getting used to this armor—now his new body—the medical procedure was a form of self-pity and pain, though it fueled his connection with the Dark Side, making him stronger and more powerful the way the Emperor intended him to be.

Vader afforded a moment to breathe before commanding the robotic claws to fit his helmet back on. The chipped, coarse leather glove ran across his creased forehead. He yearned for a moment of peace, a moment to meditate, but the demons of his past intruded his sanctum as they please, ravaging his supposedly rock-solid conscience as sturdy as the armor where his life clings onto constantly. When he deemed the activity pointless, he slammed a button—he waited for a few minutes and heard the main door of his room hiss open. Another press of a button and his meditation chamber parted open.

“What is thy bidding, my master?” a female Twi’lek Inquisitor, with skin as crimson as blood and her blade, inquired upon her entrance, kneeling in front of Vader with the greatest reverence.

——————————————————–

Jidné caught her breath after the transmission, clutching her chest did little to relax her wild heart. She fumbled her way towards the booth seat in the lounge, she attempted to relax—she clapped her hand against her forehead, slouched her back against the sofa while trying to realign her thoughts.

The beeping of the homing beacon caught her attention, it sat idly atop the center table. Using the Force, Jidné reached for it, she gawked at it resting at the center of her palm and she was reminded of her duty, but the feelings that has been forged by her connection with Cal conflicted her greatly.

“Trill…?”

“I don’t want him to get hurt, ID-3,”

Jidné closed her fist with the beacon still in her hand, she and ID-3 looked at one another for a brief moment—as if wordlessly coming to an agreement—the girl’s fist tightened, inhaled deeply that it puffed her chest, she turned her hand sideways and opened her fingers to let the blue circular device fall to the floor…

The sole of her boot stopped the beacon from rolling away, then with all her strength, Jidné crushed the device beneath her feet—reducing it into shards of glass and metal.

She’s seen enough. She’s understood enough.

“I won’t let them hurt him,”

The other end of the beacon is still attached to the Mantis, but she made it a point to get it and destroy it the same way before Cal finds out. She donned a maroon jacket and a black cowl before heading out of the Scarab, she beckoned ID-3 to come along and the droid hovered towards her shoulders to perch himself there.

Jidné found a herd of Q’aval in the desert not far from the water hole, imitating the same approach as Cal did yesterday, she tamed one and mounted it. The animal reared as Jidné spurred the side of its belly with a gentle kick of her boot, clouds of smoke fluttered behind its heels as it stamped through the badlands and towards the forest, foam frothed at the rim of its mouth. She dismounted the Q’aval before it even came to a full stop, she sprinted towards the Mantis; she recomposed herself until Cere greeted her at the door.

“Jidné? What a pleasant surprise for you to come by,”

“Hi Cere, is Cal here?”

“No, actually he went to Diitana with Greez—he finally got to tour the captain at the marketplace—but I bet they’re just about finished with those errands,”

“Oh? How nice of him,”

“You can wait for him inside,” invited Cere.

“Sure, just let me… catch my breath,”

Cere excused herself and went back inside, Jidné ran to the stern of the Mantis where she had shot the homing beacon during their chase. The device ceased to blink or beep, it died out the same time Jidné destroyers hers. She tore it off clean from the exterior and stamped her boot on it numerous times, she dug the soil with her shoe and buried the shards in the tiny crater she made.

It was peaceful in the clearing—nothing but wind and chirping songbirds hidden amongst the trees. Jidné situated herself atop a boulder a few meters away from the ship, in an attempt to meditate while waiting for Cal. It has been a while since she did so and she wanted to see how she fared lately.

Finding solace in the clearing, she meditated and relearned her master’s lessons at the same time; recalling the words of Master Anesh from the vision she had a couple of days ago. Little by little, the girl afforded to be proud of herself as the meditations become more tranquil and resonant.

What was initially experimental, and then turned out to be quite effective: she dared to reach out to the Force and allowed to let whatever thoughts flow within her—there was laughter and warmth, comfort and compassion, images of Master Anesh smiling, and the gleam of Cal’s clear, green eyes that’s burned into her mind all too well.

“That actually felt nice…” she murmured upon opening her eyes. She gazed at her hands, then wiggled her fingers as she examined them as if the sensations touched her in reality.

She thought hours have passed, when in fact it has only been minutes. However, the good feelings were immediately washed away when her Q’aval suddenly began to neigh nervously and clopped its hooves in place.

“Hey, what’s wrong, old timer? You smell something?”

The animal neighed again, then she heard the rustling of the bushes that lined the clearing. Jidné’s instincts went on high alert, she cautiously hopped down from the boulder as she peered through the dim denseness of the forest beyond.

“Who’s there?”

A cacophony of insects hissing and chirping replied her, she didn’t take that for an answer. She senses something else than just insects and birds.

Her hand subtly wandered to her saber; with her rifle still out of commission, she had been leaning into her saber more, and she actually preferred it to the ballistic weapon. She unclipped the hilt from her belt as quietly and slowly as she can. A narrow path connected the Mantis’s spot to another open space of the forest, something about it lured Jidné in, but she had sensed a trap—for Force’s sake, she’s a bounty hunter! She knew this strategy all too well; whoever the enemy was, they wanted to her stray from the Mantis, they wanted to single her out.

Something’s definitely not right. She thought while she prowled, saber in hand and ready to ignite.

Her attempt to use Force Shroud on herself was hindered when her ears pricked up at the sound of a pin clinking. A flashbomb hissed upon the removal of the pin and rolled to Jidné’s feet. Luckily, she had the sharp reflex to kick it back to the thrower.

She shielded her eyes with her arm but was jumped by the bounty hunter who wielded a rifle with a vibroblade bayonet, she was able to deflect the attack with her saber; upon closer look, she recognized the enemy—it was the same bounty hunter who chased Cal in Diitana, the goon named Fazer.

“Where’s your boyfriend, girlie!?” the male hunter spat through his cloth mask.

“Where’s yours, scum?!”

If there’s one thing Jidné could never go wrong about the Haxion Brood—it’s that they always travel in pairs.

“Look at that, she’s got a laser sword too!” the HURID droid stomped his way into the picture, outnumbering Jidné two to one.

“So glad you could join us!” Jidné blurted and pushed the hunter away to stance herself.

She deflected the HURID droid’s barrage of blasts from its gauntlet gun in a fluid, spiraling motion of her saber. A third one had appeared from the trees, another male human hunter with a jetpack. He jumped on her, she evaded it too little too late thus she staggered for a brief second before using the Force to push her assailant away.

All three enemies circled her in the center of the clearing, like vultures to a carrion.

“We got you outnumbered, ye cunt! Sorc is gonna pay us a shitton of money for yer head!” Jetpack barked.

Sorc!?

“That son of a bitch!!”

Jidné’s hard feelings didn’t root from the fact that she once worked for Sorc—despite their stale work dynamic—and discovered now that he’s put a price on her head; what enraged her is that she had become a target herself in her own organization—though it’s highly likely that he had bribed someone, with Baz being a probable candidate, or had a mole in the Guild. Sorc had actively broken a law in the Guild and whoever else was in connivance. Whatever the reason, she needed to finish these three goons.

The skirmish got intense pretty quickly. It was just Jidné alone against three; her first target was the hunter with the jetpack—she immediately put him out of work when she deflected a blast and redirected it to the exhaust hatch of the jetpack, instantly setting it on fire. All eyes—both Haxion and Jidné—were glued to the poor sod who’s spinning out of control, perfectly incapable of escaping his jetpack until he blew up with it upon impact of a tree trunk.

“Alright, your attention here!” Jidné beckoned, spinning her saber and positioning herself in a beginning stance.

The HURID was the most aggressive attacker among the two remaining. Both of them were troublesome in their own special way—Fazer kept himself at a safe distance while loading his gun, to ruin his strategy, Jidné moved a lot: taking advantage of the trees, scaling them and perching on their branches, and finally utilizing her Force Shroud in battle. She masked herself using the Force; to the weak-minded eye, it would appear that she disappeared out of plain sight and into thin air.

“Where’s the little cunt!?” Fazer roared.

The hulking droid and the human hunter spun around in place, in search of their nimble target.

“If you’re such a brave lil’ girl, why don’t ye come out!?” Fazer taunted.

Jidné saw that the HURID droid standing directly below the branch she’s perched on, she ignited her saber and descended upon the walking block of metal from the heavens, driving her saber into its central processing core with her purple lightsaber.

“Now, it’s just you and me, Fazer,”

“You know me, don’tcha, little birdie?”

“You’re one of Sorc’s favorites, I figured he’d send you. Shall we put that to the test?”

“Don’t make me laugh, kid!”

In a deadpan snark, the girl clapped back, “I’ve always had a dry sense of humor.”

Jidné had taunted Fazer into laying down his shield, telling him to face her like a true fighter with the remaining ounce of a crook’s honor in him; the enemy hunter humored the girl and relinquished his foldable shield, leaving himself with only his bayonet rifle.

Tiny, blue cracks of electricity coursed along the blade of the bayonet and instantaneously died out as soon as it came into contact with the saber’s beam. Jidné held fast, the soles of her boots were practically buried into the dirt as she kept her stance, her unwavering grip secured her hilt as she shifted all her weight in blocking Fazer’s blade.

“You can’t win, girl!! I’ll have your head rolling over Sorc’s table!” grunted Fazer.

Collecting all her might and transferring it all on her deflection, she took a big, deep breath as the purple gleam shone over the gloss of her dark, willful eyes.

“Not if I have anything to say about it!”

She pushed Fazer away, kicked him the hardest in the abdomen to stagger him and afford a window of opportunity to cut him down. With the strength fueled by adrenaline, she struck down the bounty hunter and silence returned to the forest…

Or so she thought.

More rustling among the bushes alarmed her, she brandished her saber securely, prepared for a stance if necessary. The noises persisted and prompted her to follow it, instead of waiting for it to jump on her. Blinded by the anger that she mistook for the thrill of the action, she dashed mindlessly through the forest, following the sound.

Meanwhile, Cal had returned to the Mantis’s clearing and spotted a Q’aval. He approached it and started bobbing its head to its forward direction while neighing fervently.

“Whoa, whoa, it’s okay! What’s wrong?”

Cal held the animal’s muzzle, petting it with his one hand while the other cupped its large cheek. The Q’aval kept nodding at the direction of the clearing despite being calmed down, the redheaded Jedi finally got the hint as he turned his head to the path.

He withdrew from the animal, tugged his saber off of his belt, and cautiously prowled into the neighboring clearing with peeled eyes. When the boy sensed nothing, he investigated the area and discovered the bodies of the three Haxion Brood hunters sprawled across the clearing; he got closer and found lightsaber cuts across their bodies—except for the third one who had majority of his body charred from the explosion of his jetpack, nonetheless, Cal recognized the handiwork.

“Beee…!” BD-1 chirped and pointed at something with his entire body.

Lying just a few inches away from Fazer’s body were bright, turquoise beads threaded into two separate strands. Cal knelt down and examined it, he hesitated to take it at first but eventually scooped it up with one hand, he’s seen this trinket more than once and didn’t need to guess who the owner is.

“Jidné…” uttered Cal.

The fingers of Cal’s free hand gingerly touched the trinket—one finger for each bead—and a tunnel of light violently clouded his vision, the sharp sensation was reminiscent to being punched hard in the gut. Cal’s knees buckled as the echoes of the Force kick in. Sounds and voices that he knew all too well screeched and bounced along the walls of his skull.

“Execute Order 66…”

“Keep up with me, Jidné!”

“I’m trying, Master!”

“The Jedi and the little girl are here! Don’t let them escape!!!”

The barrage of blaster fire nearly deafened Cal, he finally melted to the forest floor; his hand gripped around the beads, his consciousness battled with its own demon—a part of him wanted to let go, but the other kept his fist shut, as if gripping it tightly to stop him from opening his hand, and so the waking nightmares persisted in his mind.

“This way, child! Come on!”

“Coming, Master!”

“Get behind me, little one!”

“Blast her!!”

“NOOOOOOOO….!!!!”

“Jidné… RUN…!”

——————————————————–

Jidné sprang out of the woods and into a lone waterfall’s clearing, different from the one where she once bathed and smaller in comparison. She panted and arched her back, her hands holding onto her knees as she gasped for air, finally allowing her body to relax. Jidné scanned the place and realized that she has no memory of the place, it was an entirely new area that she has gotten herself lost in.

Strange, she thought as she stepped further into this unfamiliar spot in the forest; she gawked quizzically at the sky as she walked, the trees’ canopy didn’t cover up the sun and yet the weather appeared to be overcast, as if a storm is brewing above—even though it was significantly sunny when she came here.

“Jidné…”

The girl’s head jerked to the direction of the voice. At first she found nobody around, but her eyes continued to survey the area with great eagerness and curiosity. The call of her name brought her closer to the pool, oddly enough, the rippling of the water was louder than the end of the waterfall meeting the basin.

Jidné stood at the fine line between land and water. A silhouette—standing tall and regal in stride—materialized, she squinted her eyes to peer through the curtain of water. The shadow became more opaque bit by bit: the tips of the montrals parted the water but not a single droplet lingered, the hem of the long robe swept the surface of the water as if it was a plane of glass flooring, and the apparition seemed almost too real.

Nomara Anesh, her master… or perhaps the shell of what she used to be.

Jidné’s knees were reduced to jelly, so much so that she staggered back in surprise upon laying eyes on the waking vision of her mentor.

“Master Anesh…” a wide-eyed Jidné shuddered.

Silence. Only a smile replied to her, but it was no smile of compassion. There was something ominous that traced the line of that smirk. Wind howled amongst the towering trees as the two women faced one another.

The apparition stepped closer until she stood at the center of the pool, ripples orbited her even though Nomara stood like a statue; Jidné was able to get a closer look—she was impressed with the apparition, for it mimicked the sage aura that her master emitted, despite being a mere manifestation borne from the nether of the Force.

The young girl shakes her head and grips onto her saber.

“No,” she snarled, attempting to harden herself in the midst of this delusion. Her thumb crunches the switch of her saber. “You’re not her.”

The ghost of Nomara Anesh rebuked the girl’s claim in the form of igniting her own saber. An indigo blade emitted out of the elegant silver hilt. The Togruta slowly walked up to her as they spoke.

“What makes you so sure? Have you allowed your doubts to cloud your feelings?”

Jidné detected the difference of this apparition’s tone of voice compared to the real thing; this one sounded emotionless and strict altogether. The apprentice couldn’t find the same warmth the original has within this ghost. The compassion and kindness that the real Nomara Anesh had, the traits that the girl missed sorely and dearly, was completely non-existent.

“No, I haven’t…”

“Well then, we won’t find much outcome in words, will we?”

That compassion Jidné desperately searched in that walking manifestation of Nomara was replaced with a demanding, arrogant façade—it’s as if she’s facing a different person with the perfect identical copy of her late master’s body.

Jidné itched to swing her saber at this ghost so much that she didn’t realize she had stepped onto the water, she paused and looked down on her feet. The water’s surface remained solid to stand on but retained its liquid aspects like the ripples and droplets. Now in the same arena as this spirit, she circled along the edge while her eyes fixated on the otherworldly entity. She can’t put her reason into words, it was more of a feeling.

“You have allowed so much of the darkness to take you… that you can’t even see who you truly are,” Nomara lectured coldly.

The walking vision had provoked the child, Jidné had lost the remaining ounces of control she had within her and came charging at the Togruta. Two blades of nearly the same shade clashed and growled against one another. Nomara retained her erect, poised posture while the young Jidné had her back arched as she put all of her strength on the strike.

“Is this the resolve you’ve settled with? Is this how you honor my teachings!?” Nomara hissed, truly sounding like an unsatisfied mentor. “You have truly forgotten the ways of the Force!”

“That’s not true! You don’t know that! You are not her!!”

The young Jedi continued to send a flurry of attacks against this sentient delusion, but for every move she knew and used against the ghost, it always had a way to deny her of a strike; her anger bestowed her a false and hollow strength that bore no blows. Jidné’s body flared with a recklessness that was determined to strike down that spirit. But the next thing she knew, Nomara’s ghost stopped the Jedi girl in her tracks.

“You can’t save him—the same way you can’t save yourself from the past, the present, and even in the future. You will always run away from your fate like the weak coward that you are!”

“NO!!!”

Another clash of blades, a sphere of light formed at the center of the intercrossed beams. Something between the lines of Nomara’s words struck something within Jidné, and then she sought for the strength inside her again… but found nothing. The Togruta bore all her weight on her attack, gradually bringing down the former apprentice until she’d fumble.

“You are not the Padawan I trained!!”

Jidné struggled to push away Nomara—even for a few paces at least—to regain her composure. This time, it was the Togruta who went into the offensive. With the distance shrinking between them, Jidné paced her breathing and timed the right moment to counter.

A shockwave of the Force sourced from the collision of their sabers, it was a wave so strong that it threw Jidné meters away from their arena. The girl couldn’t pinpoint where the phenomenon originated—though it didn’t matter. She found herself tumbling back into the clearing where she had singlehandedly eradicated the Haxion Brood hunters, her head jerked in all directions to survey her bearings.

“Jidné!”

The girl jolted upon another call of her name, Cal ran up to her and slowly lifted her up.

“Are you okay?”

“I… I don’t know…”

JEDI TEMPLE, CORUSCANT

Nomara has returned to Coruscant with little Jidné along. Never has she ever been this careful, ignoring the ache of her arm as she held the swaddled child while her free hand steered her ship—with the partial assistance of Evy—until she landed on the east bay of the Jedi Temple. Nomara marched towards the main entrance of the grand temple while shielding the baby with her other wide sleeve, worried that the unusually strong wind might prick her little eyes.

Upon her entry to the temple, she was greeted by Master Yoda, the little sage being waddled with the aid of his cane. The green Jedi noticed the precious cargo in the Togruta’s arm.

“Back so soon, are you, Master Anesh,”

Nomara bowed curtly in return, “I’ve been only gone for a day and a half, Master Yoda,”

Yoda took notice of the swaddled bundle in the Togruta’s arm a second time. A weak smile managed upon his ancient face.

“Something precious with you, you seem to have brought, hmmm?”

An eager grin stretched upon the young Togruta’s face, she knelt down to his level, and then unfurled a portion of the swaddle that covered Jidné’s face. The child cooed at the sight of Master Yoda’s face—curious and delighted at the same time—the old master chuckled while being in the presence of something so small yet seemingly strong.

Yoda inquired about the child’s origin planet, Nomara indulged the old master with the goings on in Eshyn, he expressed his awareness of the planet’s state as he was also informed during council meetings.

“I swore to her mother that she’ll be taken care of,” Nomara reiterated.

“I understand. Trained and cared for, she will be. A good Jedi, she will grow into.”

Upon those final words, Nomara glanced on Jidné again; she afforded a hopeful look at the child’s face and she was greeted with an infectious, angelic smile—the young Togruta wholeheartedly agreed with the elderly master, she could almost imagine Jidné growing up as a Padawna and then a Knight.

When Yoda offered to summon the caretakers, Nomara politely refused and insisted she deliver Jidné to the children’s ward herself. Yoda caved, they ended up walking together to their destination, bowing to greet those whoever comes in their way.

Nomara was pretty sure that she had sensed it: Yoda’s cautious examination of how she behaved towards him regarding Jidné. Attachment was forbidden to the Jedi, since time immemorial that has been one of the primary lessons embedded into younglings’ minds the moment they can comprehend words. However, Nomara’s notion differed from the Council’s, stemming from the like-mindedness of her master, Loriq Caius—he was more inclined to learning the ways of the “Living Force,” an ideology that he and Master Qui Gon Jinn shared and often find one another in concurrence.

Upon their arrival of the children’s ward, a caretaker slowly approaches the Jedi with the child in hand and transfers Jidné into her arms; for a moment, the baby squirmed and cooed a worried tone to which Nomara quickly hushed softly, comforting the child before being held by someone else. Shortly after the separation, Master Caius himself enters the ward.

“Master Caius!” the Togruta exclaimed.

“I heard news that Nomara has returned quite so soon—with a youngling at that—I just wanted to check on my old apprentice,”

“I’m well, Master. And you?”

“Likewise,” Caius leisurely answered.

The banter was abruptly cut off because Jidné’s fussing had caught all of those in the ward, all heads turned to the child. Loriq got the hint. He examined the child who’s settled in that tiny pod of a bassinet while being bottle-fed. From where he stood, he can sense the Force rippling out of the child in an overwhelming magnitude that it’s unusual to see it from one so tenderly young; he rubbed his bearded chin as he joined the others’ observation of the toddler.

The caretaker approached the Jedi.

“With all due respect, Jedi, it is time for the children’s midday slumber. May I request you to exit the ward?”

The three Jedi obliged and bowed at the caretaker who returned the gesture. The room dimmed as soon as they left the room. Yoda excused himself and went the other way; Nomara was now left with her master by the door.

Ever since Loriq saw the child in the nursery and felt her Force ripple, he sensed something else—from Nomara. It’s as if the amount of Force that Jidné exuded, Nomara’s body—although unconsciously—repeats it, like soundwaves resonating with one another. Before the Togruta could walk away, the master gently tapped her shoulder.

“Nomara, do you have a moment?”

Promptly, the Togruta turned around and faced her master. Standing close to Loriq, she never realized that she was nearly as tall as him, with her montrals boosting her height just three inches more until its tips go past his head—memories of her youth reminded her of how she always had to tilt her head in order to look at him in the eye, but now that she’s grown, she didn’t need to take a pace backwards to see him eye-to-eye.

“Something on your mind, Master?”

“You sense something within the child,”

“Yes, the Force is strong with her that… just by looking at her, it’s overwhelming,”

“In addition to that, Nomara, I’m sure you’ve sensed it as well,”

The former, now-grown apprentice doesn’t follow. She pulled her eyebrows together, shooting a puzzled look at her master and wordlessly asking him to elaborate. Loriq decided to rephrase himself, he shifted and began to walk, Nomara followed by his side as they spoke

“I’d like you to recollect your feelings when you saw the child,” Loriq craned his head to Nomara, who kept her eyes ahead. “Search your feelings.”

Eventually, Nomara narrated everything that she saw in Eshyn—beginning with her meeting with Sentuk until taking Jidné with her, as well as what she felt from the little girl. She explains the feeling as a closeness of sorts, as though the pure feeling always finds its way to her, and then she’d resonate with the child—this occurred constantly ever since she and Jidné touched hands upon meeting.

“It’s only natural for two Force-sensitive to have a sort of connection, however, the difference is that connection grows over time. As for you—and Jidné, I suppose—it’s different, unusual even. The ripple is strong, perhaps the better would be ‘current’ given the magnitude of your Force energies’ convergence.”

“I’m not sure if I’m accurate, but are you implying that two Force-individuals may already forge a connection despite how briefly they just met? Do their energies bounce back one another, like a wave?”

“Perhaps. Whichever it is, it’s a rare Force-sensitive trait. I might have to meditate on it soon,”

The sage Jedi Master stopped walking in place, they ended up standing by the tall window overlooking the city and continued their conversation there with enough privacy. Loriq read Nomara’s silence as an eagerness to watch over the child, given that the first chain links of their bond have already closed. Instead of dismissing the gradual attachment between his apprentice and the youngling, he encouraged her with an open mind.

“The Force is telling you something about and through this child, Nomara. I implore you to allow your insights to serve you well, as I have taught you,”

“I’ll keep in mind, Master,”

——————————————————–

26 BBY

Over the years, Nomara has become a frequent audience member in the arena where the younglings—the prospective Initiates and Padawans—undergo their formal training and education. A single session is equally distributed between typical classroom lectures and application, the latter being the children’s favorite part. The Togruta always keeps a watchful eye on Jidné from the stands, but kept herself subtle; she’d often find herself in the company of the other masters—even the members of the Council themselves—as they observed the children from a distance.

Jidné, now seven years old, has made friends with the male Nautolan named Brese, and another human female, Leane. Each child was just one year apart from the other—but Jidné was the one in the middle—the small age gap made it much easier for them to get along. Master Tera Sinube was today’s proctor, he stood at the center of a ring of excited children who couldn’t stay still with their practice sabers in hand.

Tera Sinube tapped the floor with the end of his cane, “Youngling, younglings! Settle.”

The murmurs of the children died down, allowing Master Sinube to begin his session. He briefed them about the practical application of today’s lecture: performing basic lightsaber stances while balancing their dependence on the Force. Everyone in the chamber sensed some of the children’s gradual anxiety, it felt like too big a task for them to juggle between two abilities—one physically, and mentally for the other—including Jidné and her friends.

“Now, now,” Sinube hushed. “I understand that it may sound and look difficult, but remember: if you let the Force guide you, it will come to each and every one of you like second nature. As easy as breathing, if I may so!”

Sinube decided to encourage the class with a volunteer, when nobody stepped forward after twenty seconds have passed, the old proctor decided to find one himself. He followed the line that the children formed, some of them followed him with their heads or eyes while the others stared blankly straight into random portions of the room to avoid eye contact. While the search for a volunteer continued, the Jedi Knights Mace Windu and Shaak Ti stopped by to do some observing as well.

“Master Windu, Master Ti,” acknowledged Nomara.

Her greeting was returned by the two knights. Shaak Ti stood closer to her fellow Togruta by the stands—they were very alike physically, but their unique markings and clothes distinguished one from the other—they watched the session take place by the rails. The Jedi Master asked Nomara what’s already transpiring, the younger Togruta was happy to fill her in with the details.

Windu, on the other hand, stood by the banister though at a few inches away from the pair. His perpetually-furrowed eyebrows looked upon the gathered children surrounding the single proctor, he watched the older Jedi below circle the group of children with crossed arms and a curious scowl.

“Jidné?”

Despite Master Sinube’s gentle tone, the girl was still startled by the mention of her name. She looked to her friends and they subtly bobbed their heads, prompting her to move. She had no choice but to step forward, both hands clutched around the practice saber’s sleeve; Jidné’s nervous eyes found Tera Sinube returning to the center of the circle, patiently waiting as he leaned on his cane for support, then her gaze panned left and right, and then up and down—searching for some sort of visual signal to calm herself.

Her eyes found a pair of near-identical Togrutas standing next to each other at the stands, but her eyes focused on the one whose montrals had indigo patches snaking along the tapering, white tendrils. Somehow, she recognized that Togruta, and all of a sudden, the queasy stomach she had disappeared.

“Jidné, are you ready?” Sinube checked.

“Yes, Master Sinube,”

“Very good. Now, take your saber and put yourself in a stance, any stance,”

The little girl took a deep breath before buckling her knees and holding her saber in a defensive stance. The old Jedi commended the child. Moments later, he summoned an older child, a blond boy whose age may play along the line of twelve or thirteen—with a single glance of the thin braid hanging behind his ear, everyone knew that he was a Padawan.

“Alright, let’s do some light sparring—while keeping in mind the lessons we learned today,” Sinube placed his hand on the blond boy’s shoulder and gently shepherded him to the spot where he stands. “Paz, you may begin with Jidné here.”

“You ready, Jidné?” Paz checked before positioning himself in a stance.

The little girl nodded, following the words of the lecture and then putting it to play. At the first few seconds of the spar, Jidné anticipated the bigger kid’s attack—she got lucky by evading Paz’s lunge by deflecting his strike, holding for a few seconds, and then pull away to recompose herself for the next attack.

This was only the beginning. Janky strikes between the two children filled the room with the blinding lights of the sabers once clashed, both Jidné and Paz with a novice’s footwork before trading strikes; the other younglings who stood close in the action as the two sparred gave way and then returned when they’ve gotten farther.

As the sparring continued, Nomara brings her chin between her two fingers as she watches the action below ensue—it’s evident she was on edge just by spectating from the stands. The other Togruta dismissed the young Seeker’s mannerism as intrigue—as one would when observing something energetic. As for Master Windu, ever so direct of a man, took note of this too, but didn’t come as gently as Shaak Ti does.

“You seem to have your eye on that girl over there,” Mace Windu points out.

“It’s because I was the one who discovered her,” Nomara spoke with a degree of pride, her private smile was just one inch shy of being a grin.

Jidné eventually came to a point where she used a little bit of the Force out of impulse—outstretching her open hand at him caused him to stagger a few paces back from her. When she succeeded, she bought the opportunity to deliver a flurry of blows; it invigorated her when she pulled off a spinning deflect—a heat of the moment sort of thing, despite being a basic spin—which denied Paz a hit on her when he thought he found a window of opportunity.

The other masters continued their observation, Jidné and Paz’s sparring passively encouraged the other children. It concluded when both children had each other at swordpoint—their sabers hovering mere inches above the shoulder. Jidné and Paz quickly retracted their sabers and bowed while facing each other, a customary greeting amongst the Jedi, old and young alike. Tera Sinube hushed the excited children squirming in place and commanded them to settle down, promising them their own chance to spar.

Jidné and Paz were allowed to catch a breather while the other children prepare themselves, Tera Sinube briefly lectured the children again—reminding them of the practicalities of the assignment so as not allow the excitement cloud their senses. While waiting, the little girl surveyed the stands above them, she angled her head where she spotted the Togrutas together and searched for the one with the particular montral pattern.

There you are… Jidné thought, fixating her eyes on the younger-looking Togruta.

31 BBY

ESHYN, LAU’NON SYSTEM, OUTER RIM TERRITORIES

The clouds clear a path for the Jedi Starfighter, aboard it is the young Jedi Seeker, Nomara Anesh, one of the youngest seekers at only 34 years old.

Her aerial view of the archipelago captivated her as she flew by the land mass. The sapphire blue coastline surrounded the island, high mesas with a vast carpet of grass framed the formation while the torrential waves kissed the rigid rock faces with its ivory-white seafoam and mist.

It was simply breathtaking.

Though it saddened her that the Trade Federation has begun to press its ugly thumb into this tropical masterpiece. Prior to her visit, Nomara did her reading on the planet, its current political and economic state as well. She has always been the curious one amongst her batch—said her former master—thus resulting to her inquisitive upbringing.

“There it is, Evy,” Nomara peered through the side window of the cockpit. “Sa’Junna: where we need to be.”

She afforded another pass above the main island, searching for a safe place to land with the assistance of the astromech droid.

“Do you see anything, Evy?”

The droid, EV-65 or Evy as Nomara personally nicknamed it, chirped in excitement, equally as captivated as its Jedi owner; the droid popped out a tiny satellite from a small hatch on its dome head.

The young woman managed a smile at her droid’s happy trills, but something stirred within her as she approaches the island. The closer she got, the swirling at the pit of her stomach became stronger—though, it didn’t alarm her because she doesn’t sense anything wrong with it; nevertheless, whatever the Force was subtly telling her, it intrigued her.

“Bee-beep!!”

“Great job, Evy. Override the landing cycle now,”

“Beeep-doo!”

It took Evy a few seconds before relaying the area coordinates for a safe landing area to Nomara’s dashboard. A virtual map of the island flashed and a green blip blinked over the center section of the land mass. The Jedi followed the lead and managed to dock her ship in between the capital and a village half a mile away from each landmark. The droid remained on the ship while Nomara dismounted the vessel.

The city of Sa’Junna was developed by a civilization of old, and then later cultivated and nurtured by the past generations until the current one. Having grown and thrived for countless millennia, a great majority of the residents were humans, but other humanoids like Twi’leks and Nautolans have migrated to this idyllic sanctuary. The place appeared to have seen better days priors to the Trade Federation’s occupation.

Nomara could see the bustle of trade in the city, it wasn’t as grand as Coruscant or Naboo, but the prosperity is evident.

Upon alighting her starship, she was promptly greeted by a tall stature of a human male with a greying beard that covered half of his olive-skinned face. He gestured with open arms, welcoming the Togruta, while subtly keeping a tinge of caution in his words and actions.

Nomara bowed slowly and solemnly in greeting.

“Welcome, traveler. What is it that you seek in our already-disturbed home?”

“The exact disturbance you speak of, friend.”

The tribe leader introduced himself as Sentuk Nirmo, he governed one of the villages that networked with the main city—where most of the trade transpires. Seeing that Nomara bore better will than the Trade Federation’s emissaries, he invited her into their settlement where they could speak openly within closed walls. As they walked, Sentuk briefed Nomara of their situation.

“At first, they wanted the metal. But when they found the deeper caverns, that’s when they’ve completely sucked our mines dry! The Federation has robbed us of our own homeland.” Sentuk grieved, and then added. “They barricaded the Yishen Strait—our main trade route—from civilians and real traders. Since then, business has been slow for many of us.”

Sentuk’s voice trailed off when he noticed Nomara subtly panning her head left and right, as if searching for something. The Jedi apologized for zoning out, the tribe leader dismissed it as a fascination towards the planet as well as exhaustion—and so he invited her to their settlement. The Togruta follows the Sentuk into the village; along the way, he explains that each village has a leader which then comprises the council. With every step, the faint trace of the Force that Nomara has picked up gotten stronger.

Sentuk presented his humble home, it seems that the Federation has already left its mark in this village along with the others surrounding the capital city—Nomara looked around and found children playing out in the open, whilst weavers make baskets and rucksacks out of their looms for the hunters to store their game, other residents tend and plow their modest vegetable gardens and orchards.

“It seems so peaceful here,” Nomara’s smile faded as instantaneously as it appeared. “But I sense the distraught in these people.”

Sentuk hummed in agreement, recalling his grievance of their overall predicament. Nomara’s brows pulled together, she closed her eyes for a moment to detect that trail she’s picked up.

“There’s something else,” she mumbled so quietly that Sentuk barely heard.

The Togruta blinked her eyes open and the first thing she saw was a small girl watching the other children play—she looked like she had just learned how to stand and walk. Forgetting that she stood with the tribe leader, Nomara approached the child slowly until the girl acknowledged her with wide, quiet eyes bursting with curiosity.

She knelt down to level with the child, she offered her open palm, and without a single ounce of hesitation the toddler placed her pudgy hands on the vibrant red-skinned palm of the visitor. Their eyes met, Nomara’s heart leapt for a reason she can’t explain, her lips involuntarily curled and by impulse, her fingers folded around the soft, tender hand.

“Jidné!” a melodic voice beckoned from the cottage.

Both Nomara and the child turned to the direction of the voice, it was the mother. Nomara slowly hoisted herself back to her full height, when the mother stepped out of the doorway of their home, two more little girls followed behind her—presumably the little one’s older sisters—but they kept themselves close by the skirt of their mother, intrigued and at the same time shy of the unusual-looking visitor.

“I’m sorry, I just…” stammered the Jedi softly. “Your daughter.”

The mother flashed a friendly smile, “Yes, what about her?”

“She’s strong with the Force. For someone so little, she carries a significant amount of it within her.”

The woman immediately got the hint, she’s heard the stories, though this is the first time she’s met one in the flesh. Her eyes wandered to the waistband of the Togruta’s robes and spotted the silver hilt shimmering, dominating the neutral colors of her clothes.

“You’re a Jedi, aren’t you?”

“Yes, my name is Nomara Anesh,” the Jedi bowed her head briefly as soon as she uttered her own name.

“My name is Tymara Sheedra, I see you have met my little Jidné,” the woman peeked over the backside of her skirt, spotting her two other daughters, she introduced Krea and Maryn—aged eleven and eight respectively. The girls greeted the Togruta who beamed a gentle smile at them as she returned the gesture.

Nomara clarified that she was a Seeker and stated her purpose to Tymara, the Togruta’s emotions synched with the other woman’s—that friendly smile reduced into a poker face and then replaced with a blank smile.

“Um… Why don’t we talk inside? I just finished making supper,” Tymara invited the guest into her house, who politely obliged despite the tension.

The single-storey cottage was quaint, although each room was cramped and limiting to a number of persons inside. The kitchen was in the same space as the dining table—which lacked chairs and had woven cushions and mantles in its place. If one is to peek a little bit to their right, they could see the bedroom—the girls’ beds were thick-enough cushions each sitting atop a wooden frame, whilst the parents’ bed is settled on another side of the room; the only thing distinguishing the “rooms” was a wooden divider panel.

Nomara wagered this house couldn’t fit any more family members, Jidné would be the live marker of the home’s limit. She settled herself by the table—across where she sat, the three girls played in a small space that only fit them perfectly without needing to duck or crouch, the two older sisters watched with great fascination as Jidné lift a doll off the floor without touching it, Nomara watched intently along with them.

Tymara offered her a bowl of broth and bread on the side.

“I’m really sorry about our house. It’s not exactly much, isn’t it?” Tymara initiated quite apologetically, poking the bits of meat in the soup.

“I don’t mind,” Nomara awkwardly chuckled, parroting Tymara’s nervous poking before scooping up a spoonful and then bringing it into her mouth.

“What is it that you Seekers do?”

“We search the galaxy for Force-sensitive children. We bring them to the Jedi Temple in Coruscant and then train them into becoming Jedi Knights like myself.”

Tymara bit her lip and gawked emotionlessly at her food, it took her a good minute before she started to touch her food again. She spoke again, but didn’t face Nomara when she did.

“Have you come for her?”

The Jedi’s head perked to the mother, Tymara let the bottom of the spoon float above the soup—sensing her fluctuating appetite swirling together with the anxiety slowly eating away her mind; Nomara inhaled deeply, ceasing to touch her food to find the right words to say.

“Not specifically. I didn’t even know it was her until I… well, found her. The Force—or perhaps the universe—has a strange way of showing things we need to see when we least expect it, no matter how difficult it is to accept the signs.”

“And this Force… showed you to my daughter?”

“It would appear so,”

“Are you going to take her from me?”

“I wouldn’t force it,” Nomara replied somberly, as if understanding the grief of separation. In a way, she has felt that in one way or another.

There was silence, even the girls have purposefully hushed their voices and giggling to secretly listen to their conversation between the guest and their mother—even the little, two-year-old Jidné followed suit of her sisters.

“Eshyn isn’t what it used to be anymore, this was my home, and my husband’s, and our parents…” Tymara mumbled, watching her daughters resume playing. “We thought the Federation would make us prosper—because that’s what they promised us. You could imagine how stupid we all felt when the Trade Federation delivered the perfect opposite of what they told us. Ever since then, life has been hard for all of us. Especially the children—even if they don’t see it that way, at least not yet.”

Nomara understood Tymara’s sentiments, after all, she is a mother just looking for out for children and wanting what’s only best for them. The collective giggling of the girls was the only thing that warmed the abode today.

“Where’s their father?”

Tymara’s clasped fingers tightened around one another, she breathed deeply and bit her lip before she spoke a word.

“I lost him to a mining accident… because they wanted more metal. That’s all we ever heard from them. More metal. More work. More yields.”

“I’m sorry,” Nomara averted her gaze to the food that had now gone cold.

Little Jidné approached the table, specifically to Nomara’s side. She waddled towards the Jedi, the baby stared and studied the vibrant indigo patterns of the montrals while feeling its texture; then her pudgy paws found the tassel of turquoise beads that framed the side of the Togruta’s face, mistaking it for a toy. The two women giggled, endeared the little one’s innocence as Jidné continued to lightly swat the accessory and watch it dangle, immediately and easily entertained. Eventually, her sisters joined in and bombarded the Togruta with questions of wonderment—to name a few, they asked her where her species lived, if the white patterns on their faces were actual skin or tattoos, and how long can their montrals grow.

Nomara is simply overwhelmed by the cheeriness of these three girls combined, but the unexplainable lightness of Jidné prevailed. She knew it was the girl’s Force energy, but also the purity of her heart and spirit.

Tymara smiled at the sight of her youngest daughter getting along too easily with their visitor, but it was a sad smile—in her mind, she was already arguing against herself for the betterment of her youngest. With the occupation rendering them dirt poor and being a single parent, she had to make the toughest decision of her life. It took Tymara the entire evening to let it sink into her and toughen herself up even though she’s already falling apart because of their economic state.

By sunset, the entire village was rattled by the presence of the Trade Federation emissaries and their guards—a small unit of battle droids. What barred them from taking a step further into the settlement is Sentuk, with his warriors and hunters united to making a barricade out of themselves to protect their home.

“Not one step further!” Sentuk bellowed.

“I am sure you are aware of your settlement’s dues, old man,” the Neimoidian official flapped its trouty lips at the tribe leader.

“Your demands do not have a single drop of realism in them! You demand large yields over a short period of time, not even the manpower of two villages combined can make that quota,”

“Yeah, with what you’ve done with our mines—that quota is ridiculous!” added a spear-wielding warrior standing beside Sentuk and the men behind them murmured in agreement.

“Is your brain smaller than what it appears?!” taunted another man in the barricade, the joke was received differently from each party.

Vexed and provoked, the Neimoidian emissary raised a finger at Sentuk.

“I have given you more than enough time for that quota and you have failed me once more! I told you what would come to you should you not do what you are asked!”

A hasty wave of the hand prompted the guards to aim their rifles at the people making up the human barricade, the people in the village shrieked in fright—many of which have already retreated into their homes but peered through their windows. Nomara, who had been observing the sour exchange between the leader and the slimy emissary, rushed into the scene a split second after the command to fire has been given—killing off five of the men already and fatally wounding Sentuk after being shot in the side of his stomach.

“Jedi!? Here!?” the Neimodian screeched in a panic.

All of the villagers completely retreated into their homes—including Tymara and the girls—while Nomara aided the warriors in eradicating the battle droids, leaving the empty-handed emissary standing amongst the pile of dead clankers. Completely befuddled and frightened for his life, Nomara had him at swordpoint.

“I… I didn’t give the order! I’m just a messenger…!” he whimpered and his sheer terror had unconsciously dragged his legs to make him run away, leaving the wake of the ruined droids behind him.

When the tension eased, Nomara quickly turned her attention to the wounded Sentuk. A group of people have already gathered around him.

“Bring him to your healer, quickly now!”

The group carried their leader by the feet and underneath his arms, they briskly brought him to the cottage of the village healer while Nomara caught her breath and examined the droids’ remains. She felt the gaze of Tymara piercing right through her, she found the mother and children huddled by the doorway after the skirmish; Nomara saw the sad, disdainful sigh of the mother as she herded her children back into the house again.

After tucking the girls to bed, Tymara joined Nomara who was overlooking the coastline; the ocean breeze made the ladies’ robes and skirt billow wildly above the grass. There was a voiceless banter between the women, as if they have already began this conversation in their minds and linked it to each other.

“Will she be taken care of?” Tymara blurted.

Taken aback by the question, Nomara turned her head to the mother and stared at her for a long moment, unaware that her lips have parted due to the surprise. She turned her eyes back to the ocean slowly being devoured by the evening’s darkness.

“What?”

“Jidné. If you bring her with you, to become a Jedi, will she be taken care of?”

“Tymara, a Jedi’s hard life is a hard life,” Nomara shifted her body to face Tymara. “Jidné will have to grow up facing a lot of dangers as she grows up if she comes with me.”

Tymara bitterly chuckled, more of a nasal exhalation than an actual laugh, “Better than scratching the earth for her next meal. At least I know that she lives fighting for something honorable.”

“What about you? And Krea and Maryn?”

“We’ll manage. They’ve already learned how to loom and tend farms, they know their craft well. But for Jidné, well…” Tymara licked her lips. “This will always be her home, but I know she’s made for something greater. I just know it. You can never underestimate a mother’s intuition.”

Nomara smiled, although sadly, mostly for Tymara and the girls. Having nothing more to say, the two of them continued to look into the horizon, finding an individual sort of comfort underneath the pale blue moonlight.

“No, I suppose not.”

That night, Tymara snuck upon her sleeping daughters, but fixated her eyes on the youngest—plump cheeks squished against the pillow, her round and supple belly rising and falling as she slept, and her twitching eyelids made Tymara wonder what the little one could be dreaming of. She knelt down by Jidné’s bedside, her hands smoothly glided over her soft head and fine head of dark hair, and leaned forward to kiss Jidné’s forehead—it was a long kiss, and even after she pulled her lips away, the roundness of the baby’s cheek perfectly fit the curve of Tymara’s nose bridge, inhaling Jidné’s infant scent.

The woman bit her lip as she battled with her tears. It’s going to be a long night for Tymara.

Nomara watched from the open doorway, arms crossed with each other, there was a heavy gloom around the house that suffocated her—not even sighing deeply helped. She retired to the space in the bedroom that Tymara had personally fixed up for her.

In the morning of their departure, Tymara held her youngest daughter for the final time and rocked her as if putting her to sleep. Her sisters, as well, bade their own tearful goodbyes to their baby sister, ceaselessly riddling her plump cheeks with kisses and leaving tears stains upon her skin—in a way, Jidné is lucky that she is unaware that this is the sorrow of parting.

Tymara nuzzled her cheek against Jidné’s smooth forehead. One last embrace and a kiss buried into the crook of the child neck; with her eyes closed, she imagined how Jidné would grow up to be—but she’s completely certain that she’d grow up to be a strong, courageous woman—and she painted a mental picture of how her daughter would look like once she’s come of age.

In a prayerful solemnity, Tymara whispered all of her wishes for Jidné to Jidné herself—be strong and brave yet remain kind, wise, and gentle; make good friends with the other children if she meets any; listen well to the instructions of the elders; and most importantly, listen to her heart.

Tymara savored this last moment, Nomara was kind enough to give all the time she needs—the Togruta passed the time by prepping her Starfighter and doing the necessary maintenance checks before takeoff.

“I love you… I love you so much, my darling girl,” Tymara feigns a brave face. She held Jidné right in front of her, then Jidné’s pudgy hands caressed both of her cheeks, and that’s when she lost it—tears streamed down her cheeks, wetting the child’s tiny fingers.

The true, final embrace and kiss from her mother before Jidné is transferred to the arms of Nomara Anesh.

“You have my word. She’ll be treated well.”

“I know,” muttered Tymara quite weakly, rubbing her arms together to whisk away the cold goosebumps pelting her skin. “I know.”

25 BBY

Nomara afforded a whole day to meditate in the designated chambers within the temple. Lately, she has been having visions, though indistinct, and she could hear sounds but can’t completely understood what they’re saying. However, they weren’t negative feelings and yet they still intrigued her—motivating her to pursue the reality of these visions until they’re as clear as the things she sees with her naked eye.

Master Loriq joined her, settling himself on the seat across hers. He brought his legs up on the cushion and crossed them together, he sat with a venerable poise that made him appear respectable and noble. Despite his nearly-silent entrance, Nomara continued to meditate unable to acknowledge the man who went into the room; her former master found a serene expression on her face—remaining very still and relaxed, the only movement he caught was the rise and fall of her shoulders as she breathes.

Not meaning to interrupt, Loriq sensed the conclusion of the young Togruta’s meditation.

“Your thoughts dwell on the child, Nomara,” he uttered out of the blue.

“Frankly, because of the promise I guaranteed to her mother, Master. There is also another thing,” her response caused the older Jedi to shift in his seat, leaning an inch forward to listen closely. “It’s likely that her strong connection with the Force factors to it, but in a way I can’t really explain… Perhaps, to simply put it, I feel like I am the only one fully aware of her capability and potential as a Jedi.”

The old master gave himself a moment to ponder on this. He slightly slouched, propping his elbow atop his lap as he rubbed his bearded chin.

He smacked his lips, “The Force bridged your and Jidné’s energies, perhaps it began the moment you discovered her.”

This response caused Nomara’s head to slightly bob sideways and her eyebrows pulled with a hybrid of confusion and fascination.

“But Master Yoda said attachments are forbidden,” Nomara counter-argued.

“The Force linking you and child together is an attachment in a certain point of view, but not in the exact same definition the Jedi Masters in the Council believe in—the kind that they forbid. I wouldn’t deny the ways of the Force intervening with any occurrence at all, I’d like to think it is its way of communicating to us without the need of words.”

“If you look at it that way, Master, that kind of does make sense. Just a bit too much to wrap my head around it,”

The old master chuckled at the comment of his apprentice, she is still young and has a long way to go—both as a Jedi and a Seeker, he hoped that her post as such would allow her to see things in various perspectives.

“Nomara, if we sever ourselves from our feelings—whether towards ourselves or others—what does that make us then? The living Force is all about connecting those around you. It may be difficult to comprehend today, but you will soon. That is something the Jedi are lacking in virtue right now.”

“You’re lucky you’re confiding this only to me, Master Yoda and Master Windu would strongly disagree with you,” the Togruta meant that as a half-joke to which Master Caius received positively and agreed with.

“Even Master Qui Gon thinks likewise. If I could name all the Jedi who think similarly like he and I, perhaps the count could only fit within my one hand,” said Master Caius spoke in a dismal tone, somewhat hoping that there were more who wouldn’t dismiss his perspective as odd and “not the Jedi way” as some called it.

“I hope to become as open and wise about the Force as you are, Master,” Nomara consoled.

Loriq quickly zones out of his somber trance and then places his hand atop his apprentice’s shoulder with such affirmation, quickly squeezing it as they both shared small, sober smiles at one another. He excuses himself and prepares to leave the room in Nomara’s solitude.

“Master, another query,”

The Togruta stopped the man from getting closer to the door. Master Caius angles his entire body to face his apprentice.

“What is it, Nomara?”

Nomara had the words piling at the tip of her tongue already, she thought it was a bold question, and so she took a deep breath before speaking it out.

“If I were to become a mentor…” she trailed. “I hope to be as good as you.”

Her words intrigued the master, but it warmed him as well. He sensed that she yearned affirmation when she said those words. The old master had an inkling of her motive between the lines of her sentence, not once did he shun her for her ambitions or aspirations, in fact, he supported and encouraged her greatly—something that he found nearly absent amongst the Jedi.

“Worry not, Nomara, I believe you are more than ready than you think,” and with that, Master Caius gave a slow yet curt bow at the Togruta before departing the meditation chamber.

During one of the Initiates’ Training, Yoda personally visited the stands and observed the children. Jidné in particular seemed to have shown great potential—she was both athletic and nimble, her lack of brute strength against the bigger children were compensated for her dexterity.

Her performance has impressed the mentors, but one of her most prominent traits is her innate impulse to help those in need. Nomara spotted Jidné helping her two friends, Brese and Leane, in the middle of a practical application phase of the lesson.

“Bend your knees a little like this, Leane, that way there’s more balance for you!” Jidné coached.

“So…” Leane mimicked Jidné’s posture, lightsaber in hand. “L-Like this?”

“That’s it! You got it!” the girl squealed and quickly resumed her own stance.

“Kinda makes it less likely for me to fall off!” Brese added, Jidné agreed to the young Nautolan boy and then passed that knowledge to Leane.

The three younglings then faced their individual training spheres. They managed to block and deflect the non-lethal yet stinging blasts of the hovering balls, the three of them celebrated briefly but Master Yoda—who was today’s proctor—decided to challenge the children. With one hand, he summoned a number of large helmets that were too big for the younglings’ heads. Using the Force, each and every helmet was worn on their heads by Master Yoda’s whim.

“How are we gonna see the targets?!” Brese exclaimed openly, speaking for everyone in the room.

“The Force will guide you! Your surroundings, it connects you to, hmm.”

There wasn’t exactly any room for argument there. The younglings prepared themselves, the once tight and confident grips around their sabers became shaky and clammy—their self-esteem was left in the dark when the visors came down.

Some of them managed to deflect the shots, but only for a few times or so until they were stung in the arm, shoulder, or leg. The others never resumed the proper stances anymore, they simply stood erect while waving their lightsabers in the direction of the training drones. Jidné, on the other hand, buckled herself slightly—she was still unsure on where the drone was going in front of her, sometimes her saber doesn’t even go in the same direction as the drone does, but she remained focused.

In the last minute, she was able to deflect one shot. The drone zoomed to its upper left, Jidné turned her head to that direction—despite being virtually blind—and waved her saber around, antsy for more shots to deflect. It was a bit of a stretch, but she hoped she’d be given a barrage of it—that’s simply her being overly-excited with the thrill of success.

“Ow!”

Jidné’s clean streak of four blocks was cut by the fifth shot stinging her shoulder. Nomara—along with the other Jedi visiting the stands—examined Jidné’s demonstration. The whole time, the Togruta was stricken with the child’s progress over time. The youngling seems to have honed her lightsaber skills, even though they’re most probably still learning Form I: Shii-Cho.

At that moment, Nomara Anesh has fully made up her mind.

—–

24 BBY

The most opportune time for Nomara to speak up has come.

She waited outside the Council’s door, patient and impatiently at the same time. The longer she stood by the door, the more anxious she became. She rubbed her clammy hands together until the warmth fizzled out the jolting nerves underneath her skin.

The hiss of the door startled her, no one was there to greet her in, the door opening by itself gestured her to come in the Council Chambers. Nomara had only gotten a few paces into the chamber, from there she found all of the masters in their respective seats, her eyes quickly surveyed and named them mentally one by one.

She put herself in the center of the room. All of the masters gave either a piercing glance or an inquisitive, gentle one—Masters Aayla Secura, Shaak Ti, Plo Koon, and Yaddle to name a few, were the latter.

“Seeker Anesh,” initiated Mace Windu, a quick gesture of the hand served as his greeting.

She bowed to return the acknowledgement before speaking her piece.

The green, sage Jedi Master slowly lifted his eyelids and then angled his head up to acknowledge Nomara’s presence—even though he already has when she stepped into the room.

“A request?” Yoda inquired.

Nomara shakes away the non-existent anxiety that the masters’ gazes inflicted on her as she stands at the very center of the council chamber, she hugged herself with her arms tightly underneath her sleeves—mentally rehearsing how she’s going to begin her speech.

“I wish to train the youngling I discovered,”

The Jedi’s long, pointed ears pricked up.

“Little Jidné Sheedra, hmm?”

Nomara nodded in reply.

All of the Council members knew that it was Nomara who brought Jidné into the Temple, but only a handful of them were aware of the young Togruta’s watchful eye over the youngling—unbeknownst to them, this is Nomara filling in her end of the promise.

“This is most unusual,” Ki-Adi-Mundi commented amidst the silence. “Normally, younglings are not assigned to a master until they finish the final phase of their training.”

“Jidné has not yet completed the Initiate Trials,” Windu interjected. “She and her batch will have yet to undergo the Apprentice Tournament in a month’s time.”

“Yes, Master Windu, I am aware,”

“Pursuing to train the child to become your Padawan learner…” Yoda trailed off. “Your Seeker position, you must give.”

“I understand and I have come to terms with myself on that subject,” Nomara’s voice firmed. “I am willing to relinquish my position as a Jedi Seeker, in exchange of me being allowed to become Jidné Sheedra’s mentor if she passes the Initiate Trials.”

“I sense that there is a much deeper reason within your request, young Anesh,” Plo Koon politely adds, leaning away from the backrest of his seat.

Nomara felt the need to finally disclose the promise she made to Tymara. In the middle of her piece, she blinked fast many times, coming upon a realization—stemming from that one promise, she and Jidné had already forged a bond. In the exact second when Nomara promised the mother that her daughter will be taken care of it, the Force has already molded and sealed their link. The other masters sensed the young Togruta’s conviction and commended her for it. The masters noticed her trail off and then pick herself up and her words.

They deliberate on the spot with mere glances amongst one another. Nomara hung her head low while keeping her eyes on the masters speaking with their eyes. It didn’t take long for them to come to a decision.

“Very well,”

Nomara’s head perked up from Mace Windu’s two simple words.

“Jidné Sheedra is to be your Padawan if she passes the Apprentice Tournament,”

Nomara is immensely elated. She couldn’t contain her excitement, the least she can do to hold herself is bite her lip. She struggled to calm and recompose herself, when she did—she thanked the Council as a whole, bowing to them ceaselessly before departing the room.

As soon as the young Togruta was out of the room, the masters exchanged looks once again. They’re intrigued by the connection manifesting within Nomara and Jidné, even if they haven’t fully interacted with one another quite closely.

One month seems to have passed by so quickly.

Jidné, Brese, Leane, and the other younglings eagerly waited for this day. But now that the time has come, they’re not sure if what they’re feeling is uncontainable excitement or nerve-racking anxiety or a mix of both.

“You guys ever ready?” Brese in the middle asked his two friends.

“Well, kinda…” Jidné shrugged her shoulders.

“My hands are sweaty!” Leane grumbled.

For the first time in these younglings’ lives, it’s only this day when they’ve seen the stands to be filled to the brim. Looking back to their training days, the number could only fit within each of their own two hands; now, there seems to be no space left between one Jedi to the other.

“Why do I have a bad feeling about this…?” Leane whimpered.

Jidné rests her hand on her friend’s shoulder, consoling her, “Don’t worry, Leane. We’ll make it—the three of us.”

By rote, a flock of thirty-two younglings shall be pitted against one another in pairs. Prior to the day of the tournament, the children were already briefed on the rules and how it will go; one day before the tournament itself, they already know who they’re dueling with.

They were also forewarned that the masters will be observing them, the coaches did their best in quelling the pre-tournament anxiety that they’ve borne into the younglings’ heads. Although fazed and ridden with anxiety—so much so that she couldn’t properly grip her saber—Jidné mentally coaxed herself and simply do what she keeps doing, she believed that such a mindset has taken her far.

I won’t let myself falter on the most important day of them all! She proclaimed, staring at the silver finish of her saber.

The flock of younglings were arranged in a column and split into two upon their entry to the arena, they marched in synchronization, lining up the border of the floor. Tera Sinube and Master Yoda stood at the center to give their opening remarks albeit a brief one; when the two old masters stepped away and stood under the shade of the stands—that was the first pair’s cue to come forward.

It was Brese against a green Twi’lek boy. The Nautolan boy capitalized on his innate nimbleness during the battle and keeping mind of Jidné’s own tips during their practical lessons—which he and Leane found greatly helpful.

A duel would normally last less than half an hour, depending on the caliber of both children. This is the only time the younglings would go all out with everything they’ve learned. Five pairs later, it was Leane against another human girl—both of them sensed one another’s anxiety, but eventually got into the thrill of the action. Green sabers clashed against one another, shining bright light around the arena as one parries the other—while not admittedly as strong as the bigger children, Leane was flexible and lithe like Brese, she was able to dodge and make a quick follow-up attack seconds after her evasion.

Jidné was only able to quell her nervousness by quietly supporting her friends from where she stood. Flashing secret smiles at them when they look her way.

“That child has an innate ability to put people at ease,” Loriq thought out loud, exclusively within Nomara’s earshot.

Nomara smiled, reminiscing the moments where Jidné makes everyone smile all too easily, beginning from the moment where she was staying over in their house in Eshyn.

“Yes, I think so too,” she concurred.

Now it was Jidné’s turn. Paz was standing beside her, the tall blond boy cheered her on, whispering “Good luck!” to her before she’d step forward. She beamed a smile and whispered back a quick “Thanks!” and then patted her saber dangling by her belt.

Jidné is pitted against a Mirialan boy. As per tradition, they bowed at one another upon stepping into the center, afterwards they take a step back to draw their sabers. The Mirialan’s green saber contrasted heavily with Jidné’s purple saber. The opponent was indeed nimble, at par with Jidné’s dexterity, but what the girl did next surprised everyone.

This was the very first time Jidné demonstrated her Force Shroud, although she’s still in the middle of refining it herself.

Regardless, she was able to render herself almost invisible—the lights and the gray walls helped her blend in, leaving a trail of visible Force waves lingering in the air. The Mirialan boy’ frenzied eyes did little to aid him in spotting his opponent, only at the last minute did he sense the girl from behind him and deflected her attack, she re-materialized when their sabers met. It was flimsy on his end, but struggled to avoid fumbling.

They continued to trade strikes one after the other, Jidné read her opponent taking on the rather aggressive approach with little to no defensiveness, thus she took advantage of her dexterity and evaded the charging attacks of the Mirialan boy. Whenever he would deliver a hail of attacks at her, Jidné deflected them with clean forms and coordinated footwork. Having her purple saber’s tip hovering just mere inches in front of the boy’s nose, that concluded her duel. The two younglings flashed an impressed grin at one another before doing the customary bow post-fight.

“Your youngling shows a lot of promise,” Loriq commented. “Her skill with the Force is impressive as well, despite being a little rough around the edges.”

The remainders of the tournament proceeded down to the very last pair. When the event concluded, the masters dispersed and conversed with one another in murmurs, cupping the sides of their mouths with their hands as they judge the younglings who have caught their eye.

The younglings who were done with their turn were instructed to retire to the Initiates’ dormitory to rest. Brese and Leane waited for Jidné’s duel to end before going together which has become a joint habit of theirs.

“You were great, Jidné! I bet a lot of masters are gonna come asking you to be their Padawan!” Brese beamed.

“I think you and Leane were pretty great too!” Jidné clapped Leane’s and Brese’s shoulders with her two hands. For her next few sentences, she’s become more animated as they walked along the halls. Her upbeat attitude made the two children laugh, practically washing away their anxieties from earlier.

“The way you two went—POW! And then Leane went—WOOSH!! Aww, it was awesome! No doubt about it, you two, I think we did a great job in impressing the masters!”

Jidné added a comical kick and punched the air in the uppercut to visualize what she meant. Her post-fight energy doesn’t seem to be running out any time soon.

“I’m glad you think our training will pay off, Jidné! It kinda makes me feel better about myself,” Leane chuckled gleefully, the heaviness that anchored in her stomach melted away after being infected with Jidné’s cheerfulness.

Jidné hooked Leane’s neck with her arm, nudging her closer until they’re cheek-to-cheek, “Aw come on, Leane, you’re such a worrywart! How many times do I have to tell you you’re great? Though I don’t mind saying it over and over!”

The next morning, Jidné was summoned to one of the lecture chambers, a warden has personally come to their room to call her. She and Leane exchanged puzzled glances but eventually she followed the servant out of their room.

“Did… Did I do something wrong?” Jidné asked when she walked up to the servant.

The servant chuckled, amused and endeared, “No, Jidné. But you’ll find out soon enough. Run along now.”

Jidné turned behind her, to her friend Leane, and waved at her before disappearing into the grand halls of the Temple. The girl navigated her way to the turbolift leading to the wing where the lecture halls are located. She eventually reached that specific room the servant had told her, with the push of a button the door retracted into its frame—revealing Master Yoda standing with a tall Togruta. Jidné recognized the second Jedi, it was the one who always watched at the stands, she recalled that this Jedi was also watching during the tournament last night.

The girl entered the room and stepped closer to the pair of Jedi Masters.

“I… I was told to come here by one of the wardens,”

“Indeed, you were, Jidné,” Master Yoda waddled towards the child, pegging the floor with his cane as he walked.

“Did… Did I do something wrong?”

The green, ancient Jedi chuckled delightfully, not intending to dismiss the child’s worry but rather uplift her spirit.

“Sought you, a master has; a Padawan, you are to be,”

The child’s eyes lit up, her heart skipped a beat, and her lips parted. Did her ears deceive her? No, she’s sure she’s heard it correctly.

The Togruta walked up to Yoda’s side, facing Jidné as well. She flashed a gentle, warm smile upon seeing the twinkle over the gloss of the child’s dark, soulful eyes.

“Hello, Jidné,”

“Hello,” she cooed.

“My name is Nomara Anesh, it’s nice to meet you…” Nomara stifled a chuckle. “Again.”

Jidné’s smile relaxed a bit and she bobbed her head to the side, “Eh? Again?”

Nomara smiled and knelt to the little girl’s height.

“I was the Jedi who found you and brought you here,”

The youngling’s grin reappeared, stretching from ear-to-ear, and the glint in her eyes shone twice as bright as the first one. The girl’s energy contrasted with her new master’s calm, warm, and kind demeanor.

“Really!? You did?!”

“That’s right,”

“That’s amazing!!” the girl leaped and squealed, butterflies filled her stomach so much that she could feel them coming out of her throat any moment now. “It’s strange though—but in a good way—that you’ve always felt familiar to me. But now that you’ve told me you’re the one who brought me here, that explains it… LIKE A WHOLE LOT!”

Jidné threw her arms up to emphasize her last words, her enthusiasm delighted Nomara; but when she realized that she’s behaving a bit too excitedly, she straightened herself up in the presence of Master Yoda and cleared her throat.

“Truly wonderful and pure her heart is,” Yoda commented, gesturing the girl to be at ease as there’s no need for such formality.

“Are you up for the task as my apprentice, Jidné?”

“Am I ever?!”