“So who exactly are we going to talk to?” Tera asks.

“I… don’t know.”

You’ve just finished up your dinner and are now ready to fulfill your plan! But, who exactly are you going to talk to? You’ve narrowed it down to a Padawan at the very least. Padawans are infinitely more approachable than Knights, let alone Masters. And, they’re more likely to remember the contents of their own Trials, simply because it’s a more recent event for them. Not only that, but you’ve heard that the Trials tend to change over the years. While the themes of the Trials have stayed the same for centuries, the customs and social norms of the Jedi Order have not. This results in the Trials being changed every so often to better reflect the values of the changing Jedi Order. You must be careful about voicing that thought though, for the mere idea that the Jedi Order could change at all is anathema to the beliefs of a not-insignificant number of Jedi within the Temple.

“Why don’t we just try and catch one while they’re leaving the cafeteria?” you say after some thought. “Easiest to just let them come to us.”

Easier said than done. Well, not really true. You just have to stand there and keep an eye out for Padawans, but it’s surprisingly difficult to find one who seems available to talk. Many Padawans are clearly busy, immediately rushing off to do something. Others are in deep conversation, speaking at an ever increasing volume. Even more are the ones you are not sure are even Padawans. Their age is too similar to yours for you to be sure they’re not just slightly older looking Initiates, especially when they’re moving in crowds — their braids hidden purely by your obstructed line of sight. Eventually, you spy a couple of potential candidates who seem to only be mildly chatting. Hopefully they don’t mind the interruption.

You march up to the two of them; one of them a female Zabrak with longer horns than usual for her species; the other a human, tall and with incredibly impressive musculature, unable to be hidden by robes that appear to be three sizes too small. You try to avoid staring at his — her? It’s surprisingly difficult to tell — well defined anatomy, but are apparently unsuccessful when they(?) catch you looking and stare right back. Caught, you decide that you might as well press forward and ask your question.

“Excuse m—”

“What’re you looking at, Youngling? Have I got something on my face?” the big one cuts in.

“Um. I… We were looking for some Padawans. You’re a Padawan, right?”

The Zabrak Padawan turns her head slightly, showing off the string of silka beads draping down. She then reaches upwards and grabs the braid of the big one and shows it off to you, causing them to wince in pain. Oddly, she speaks no words the whole time.

“Gilt! Let go! That hurts! Ah… that’s better.” They reel back as the Zabrak, Gilt apparently, releases the braid. Then they sock the Zabrak girl on the shoulder then continue. “My name’s Lana. And this one is Gilt. She doesn’t like speaking very much to new people, so don’t mind her. So, whaddya want? Actually, how about you tell me what you are, first? I haven’t seen anything like you before.”

“Hey!” Tera butts in, literally jumping in front of you. “That’s rude! How about you tell us what you are first!”

Lana turns to Gilt who just shrugs her shoulders. She(?) leans down and picks up Tera and tucks her under her(?) arm, before striding down the hallway. You and Gilt stand there for a moment, look at one another, then race after the two of them.

“Let me go!”

“Nah.”

“I’ll bite you!”

“Just try it.”

“... OW! My teeth! Why is your arm so hard?”

“Pure muscle, li’l wimpy one!”

“Aaargh!!! Let! Me! GO!”

You can just barely hear them ahead of you as you try to catch up. All you can see is the shape of Lana’s broad back retreating into the distance with a comparatively tiny pair of legs kicking away from the crook of Lana’s arm. Despite her longer legs, Gilt doesn’t seem to have any better luck keeping up. Surprisingly, she seems to already be flagging by the sound of her wheezing breaths. Another dozen meters and she’s stopped to catch her breath, arms akimbo. Seeing this, you pump your legs harder. You must save your friend!

In the far distance, you see Lana turn a corner, Tera still wailing like a baby bantha. All around, Jedi watch in varying degrees of confusion, amusement, and concern. All three of these only go further up when you race past at top speed, which is admittedly not very fast. Your efforts are all for nought though when you turn yet another corner and see no sign of them.

The scuff of a boot against the ground and the beginning of a scream give you just enough warning to leap backwards, a massive hand just barely missing your arm.

“Watch out, Xena!” Tera screams, half a second later. Lana seems to have been covering Tera’s mouth, keeping her from speaking out. It was only during the clumsy ambush that Tera was freed to attempt the warning.

“Let her go!” you cry, launching yourself at Lana. You jump on their back doing your best to wrap your arms around their neck to choke them out. Alas, Lana’s trapezius is just as incessantly swollen as their meaty biceps that you can’t encircle their neck fully, leaving you to dangle pathetically off their back.

Lana roars with laughter as they spin around. You swing out, radially accelerated by the centripetal force, toes skimming against the walls in the tight hallway. In terror, you try to dig your fingers into Lana’s beefy neck, but find no purchase. A few more rotations and your fingers slip, sending you tumbling away, screaming. But, rather than slamming into the stone-carved wall, you instead impact a significantly softer and fleshier target. Gilt collapses beneath you and the both of you go sliding back down the hallway.

“Oh no! Gilt! You okay?” Lana quits the fanatic twirling and rushes over toward her, dropping Tera along the way. In a moment, Tera’s back on her feet, but as she too attempts to make her way over, she stumbles dizzily and has to rest against the wall.

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“Uuugh. I don’t feel so good…”

As she fights to keep her dinner down, Lana reaches you and Gilt. She reaches out and painfully flips you off of Gilt, dropping you to the cold hard floor.

“Gilt! Speak to me! Are you alright!”

“... I hate you, you know.”

“You’re okay!”

While Lana begins premature celebrations, Gilt reaches out with both arms as if to give them a hug, then slams her palms into Lana’s cheeks with a tremendous SMACK!

“Owww… Why?”

“You deserved that, you oaf. What were you thinking?! Why’d you just up and kidnap an Initiate? And why’d you throw the other one at me?”

“I’m sorry! I thought it’d be funny! And I didn’t mean to throw the scorpion kid at you. She did that herself!”

“Hey!”

Gilt cuts in before you can say more, physically stepping between you and Lana. She turns toward you, giving Lana another, lighter slap, for that last comment.

“I’m sorry about her. She doesn’t think very much. She’s very stupid as you can tell.”

“Uhhh… huh” you intelligently reply.

“I’ll answer your questions. Just… please don’t tell anyone about Lana doing all this. She’s gotten into enough trouble already. I’m really very sorry about all that.”

You stare into her eyes, searching for sincerity in her words. To all your senses, she appears genuine. You give a quick look at Tera, now resting against the wall. Thankfully, there doesn’t seem to be any vomit on either the floor or on her clothing so you think she might’ve kept it in for now. She doesn’t seem to be in any condition for the interrogation session though, so you’ll have to see what she thinks later.

“Oh, alright. I’ll forgive you for now. I dunno if Tera will though, so your answers had better be good!”

“I understand. Go ahead.”

You take a quick look around, but there’s no place to sit comfortably so you choose to stand. The hallway is completely deserted. It appears as if this is one of those low-trafficked areas, similar to the place you had your little birthday party in all those months ago. Gilt, in the meantime, just gestures at Lana to stay kneeling as she was earlier, then hops up and sits elegantly upon Lana’s back.

That’s… probably deserved? But, probably not what a padawan should do to another. At your look of disapproval, Gilt rolls her eyes and drops back down, standing instead.

“Firstly… Gilt. Why didn’t you say anything earlier? You speak perfectly fine.”

“That’s a bit personal. I thought you were going to ask about something else.”

“You said you’d answer my questions. This is one of them.”

She sighs in exasperation. “Oh, alright. Fine. Like Lana said, I don’t like talking to new people. I literally don’t like it. I’m not scared of it. I just don’t like doing it. I’m only talking to you now because Lana’s actions have forced me to do so… Wait a minute. Lana! Did you do all that just so I’d have to speak?”

“Maybe?”

“I really really hate you. We’ll talk more about this later. Anyways… what was your name again?”

“Xena. That’s Tera over there.”

“Okay. Xena. Keep going.”

“What I actually wanted to ask you is what are the Initiate Trials like? They’re coming up soon.”

“Oh-ho!” she laughs, sounding suspiciously like one of those holo-film villains. “Preparing yourself, I see. Well, there’s not much to tell. As long as you’ve been preparing well, then you have nothing to worry about. First, you just recite the Code. That’s it. Easy enough. Second, you meditate for a bit. I think all they do is test to see if you have the willpower to not fall asleep after ‘meditating’ for two hours. That’s what I had to do. I heard that the alternative to the second trial is to fight a Knight for a little bit. You don’t have to win. You just have to show that you don’t suck. Some people might have to do both. For the third task, you need to go and find a golden cup hidden somewhere in the temple. You’ll face many terrible foes along the way, like uppity peasants, man-eating rabbits, and worst of all, French people!”

“What’s a French? Wait, don’t answer that. I think you’re lying about that last Trial.”

“What makes you think that?”

“You’re smiling.”

Gilt covers her mouth, then swipes her hand to the left. Her mouth is now set into a stern line, but the effect is ruined by the crinkling in the corner of her eyes and the angle of her eyebrows.

“... Can you please answer my question?”

“Only if you first tell me your favorite color.”

“Whuh?”

“Kidding. Same holo-film as that other bantha-crap. Okay, so the third Trial is to just show your connection with the Force. Just juggle something with telekinesis and you’re good to go.”

“Is it really that easy?”

“No.”

You glare at her. “Then, what are you leaving out?”

“I can’t tell you. It’s different for everyone. The third Trial is the most personal of the three. You need to show your own personal connection to the Force. Mine was literally juggling some balls. What I didn’t say was how many. I trained my dexterity with the Force such that I could concentrate on catching and throwing as many small objects as possible, then used that to show my competence. It’s up to you to prove your own worth.”

You’re quiet for a moment. Thinking. What is it that you can use to prove your own competence? You’ve always had some troubles with manipulating the Force with significant dexterity. If you go slow, you can handle delicate tasks, but even that sometimes fails on a bad day. Hmm. Would just demonstrating your capability to use Force Stanch be good enough? It isn’t that complex of an ability, but it does show your dedication to studying the Force outside of the basic lessons. Hopefully the Masters will accept that.

Looking back up, you meet Gilt’s eyes, then bow to her surprise. “Thank you for answering my questions, Gilt. And, thanks for being a good sandbag. I thought I was actually gonna get hurt earlier.”

She rolls her eyes again. “Just covering for my idiot… friend. Again, please don’t speak about this to anyone.”

You walk down the hall to Tera, helping her up. With a nod to Gilt, you drag Tera out the door.

“That was… interesting.”

“Interesting my foot! That was horrible!”

You give her a guilty look. “Sorry, Tera. I absolutely did not expect it to go that way. Do you still want to go do something?”

“Yes! Now, even more so… But, after I shower again. You’re lucky you’re not the one who was trapped under that rancor’s armpit!”

“Sorry. Again.”