Arc 2 Chapter 9

Following the Animalia Sect students, still waiting for some kind of ambush, Anaïs tried to feel them out in the Force. The leader had the feeling of some kind of large cat, ethereal tail swaying in anticipation, while the others trailed behind him. They were a motley collection, one boy some kind of large buffalo, another boy some kind of wolf, as was one of the girls, while another girl was some kind of monkey.

The last girl, Chiku was some kind of large bird, whose beak swung around as the girl glanced backwards. “Scared?” she asked tauntingly. “You should be.”

“Chiku, do you want to spar with me after?” the leader asked, and the girl shut up, finally muttering ‘no’, when he glanced back at her.

Soon enough they all entered a large hall, which was broken up into four open and bare combat arenas, a pair of black-robed staff lazily watching as two students fought, one hiding behind a wall of stone while the other twisted his hands, controlling a floating stream of water that struck out, hitting with enough force to break off small pieces of rock, failing to strike his opponent.

The girl he was fighting stayed low, and gestured, a bronze circle spreading out in front of her with four rings, and the loose bits of rock that littered the area lifted up, accelerating towards her opponent. The man cast a spell of his own, a dark brown circle with five layers that exploded with water from nothing at all, which then formed a defensive globe. The globe, in turn, after absorbing several hits twisted into a drill and shot forward, the man running close behind.

The drill was hit by more rocks, but they broke apart, and it impacted the wall, breaking apart itself but tearing up the stone wall as well. The woman tried to cast another spell, but the man leapt forward, not creating a circle, but the spilled water pulled forward into a glove around his hand, which he slammed into her. With a twist of his hand it crackled to ice, trapping her completely.

The man extracted his hand, and called another globe to him, as the woman struggled, trying to cast a spell but the circle fragmented, breaking apart as she remained imprisoned.

One of the staff members lazily raised a hand, and a glowing red orb appeared above the pair, which caused the water-wielder to back off, melting the ice holding his opponent with a gesture, and lifting his opponent to her feet with another. The woman obviously wasn’t happy, but the two bowed to each other, and went their separate ways.

The same staff member that summoned the globe twisted his hand outwards, a seven layered circle of interwoven blue strands of hair growing to encompass the entire arena, the rock and water that littered the polished stone floor seeming to melt, until it looked just like the other three unused arenas.

The group she was following approached the two black-robed figures, the second of whom turned to face them. “Another spar, Jabari?” the man asked. “Who have you roped into getting hit this time?”

The leader of the group, who was apparently named Jabari, gestured back towards the Padawan. “New student. She doesn’t know any better.”

“And this student’s name is?” the older man asked, turning to look at her.

“Anaïs Vand-Ryssa, Third Circle, Minerali Sect,” she stated, the black robed figure, whose Presence felt like a fifty-foot-tall tree, nodding to her, before gesturing towards one of the arenas.

As Jabari’s group moved to some nearby seats, and the boy moved towards that space, the mediator informed her, “No weapons. No instantly lethal spells, nor anything that will deal lasting non-physical damage that you yourself cannot reverse. Nothing that will extend more than five feet beyond the edge of the arena, but we’ll have a shield up to catch projectiles. A blue light means start. A red light means stop, and if you attack after that you’ll get a meeting with the headmaster. You do not want a meeting with the headmaster. Any questions?”

The Jedi shook her head, and the referee waved her away, so she headed off for the same arena that Jabari had walked into. Not being able to use her lightsaber would make things more difficult, but she’d trained enough with Master Lucian she should be able to make do. And, if not, well, it would certainly show her something she needed to work on.

Keeping the Force circulating through her body, maintaining a base level of Force Control, bolstering her physical capabilities, she looked at her opponent, who grinned ferally back. She didn’t close her eyes, but tried to sink into that state of sight-beyond-sight where she looked not only at things as they were, but as things would be. Doing so, at a base level, was a skill that all Jedi possessed, but Lucian had pushed her to refine it further and further.

In battle, against Lucian, she’d been unable to push it into those closing windows of possibility that she’d seen on Noonar, as her opponent reacted to her reacting to what she saw, in turn, changed what she saw moment to moment, but even not able to see that far ahead, she could sense what was about to happen.

Seeing the future of the blue orb blooming before her, she waited until it actually did so before shifting her stance, oddly feeling no sense of immediate danger. As soon as it started, Jabari began casting, a three-layered circle of runes that appeared to be made of blood growing beneath him, and the boy’s features rippled, shifting to become more feline, making him appear halfway between the human he was and a Cathar. Another spell was cast, and his hands shifted further, claws growing from his fingertips. A third, and his skin shifted, dark, now fur-covered forearms bulking up with additional muscle, the legs of his pants similarly expanding and reshaping.

But Anaïs waited, as she sensed no danger, and wasn’t sure, exactly, what she was supposed to do, planning on taking her cue from him. She did bring her Force Control up fully, infusing her body with energy and vitality, but kept the technique at a level she could easily control. Master Lucian had long ago beat into her head the difference between a technique you could perform in calm meditation, and one you could rely on in battle.

Jabari cocked his head, curiously asking, “Are you gonna cath anything?” He had a bit of trouble speaking with his fang-filled mouth, but she understood what he meant.

“I already have,” she informed him, still feeling no danger.

“Really? Your loth then,” he shrugged, before tearing off at her at speed, and she finally had something to react to. The boy ran, leaping at her from over a dozen feet away, far faster than a normal person could run, and Anaïs dove to the side, prepared for him to change direction mid-flight, or twist out, or do something, but he completed his lunge, turned around normally, and charged again.

This time, when he leapt, she only stepped out of the way with a moment to spare, prepared for him to twist and strike her, her own counter at the ready, but he didn’t. Oh, he tried, but his reactions were far too slow, barely opening his arms a fraction of a foot wider, and missing her completely.

“You almost got her!” Chiku called, the buffalo boy cheering as well.

The cat-boy, however, didn’t try for another pass, but moved to the side, almost prowling, watching her. He darted forward, this time not in a lunge, but in a closing swipe that would hit her in the shoulder, but she stepped back. His swing passed her by, and she watched as he shifted his momentum for another swipe, which she stepped in the direction of, twisting so his claws whistled by her chest, not touching her at all, and he turned with it, taking a half step back, avoiding a blow she never sent his way. He came back swinging high, for her head, which she ducked under, twisting her neck slightly so her blonde ponytail wasn’t caught by his questing claws.

He’s. . . slow, she thought, ducking and twisting in her amalgam of her own defensive Soresu lightsaber form with the acrobatic Ataru form her master instructed her in. The boy before her was moving with supernatural speed, yes, but less so than Jorel displayed, when he was still an Initiate. More than that though, the beastly teen’s reactions were positively glacial.

Springing back, her opponent glared at her. “Are you gonna hith me, or noth?” he demanded.

Once more channeling her Master, she looked at him with mock innocence. “Are you?”

Her statement prompted a chuckle from the two staff members watching, and she noticed that several other students had wandered over to observe her match, which, in turn, caused Jabari to growl in anger and cast another spell, the dusky brown of his fur darkening to black, shot through with red, and he charged forward towards her twice as fast as before

Or three-fourths as fast as Jorel, when he really got going.

But, again, her opponent kept hitting where she was, not where she would be, until she finally, when the boy went for a double overhand slash, stepped into the blow, and struck, hands extended flat to better chop the insides of his wrists.

Jabari wasn’t just stopped, but was pushed a step back, his hands up, his blows also almost as strong as Jorel at his best. His stunned reaction at her first hit left himself open to a double palm strike to the chest which sent the boy flying backwards, landing in a roll and coming back up, twenty feet away, one hand rubbing the impact point as he stared at her with wide eyes.

She hadn’t felt anything break, but from his shocked reaction, she felt like she’d done something wrong. “Are you alright?” she asked, worried. “Was that too hard?”

Her honest question prompted a laugh from one of the staff, breaking the sudden silence, and Jabari scowled, charging her once more. Happy she hadn’t made a mistake, she waited, until he was about to strike with a low sweeping leg, before jumping up over him, using his shoulder as a steppingstone, and twisted around in a rough, Force-charged kick to the boy’s back that sent him flying dozens of feet away as she tried to keep herself stable.

She failed, still pushed back a half dozen feet herself, and frowned. She was still getting used to non-lightsaber melee combat, something she never thought she’d need, and it was a work in progress, Jorel having been far superior in this to her before they’d both left the Temple. Master Lucian had just laughed at her question of why she’d need it and retrieved an odd knife from storage. He’d fought her with it, and even gone to block her lightsaber with the steel blade, but instead of cutting through the dagger, it had been her weapon that had been cut.

Well, not really, but her weapon had shorted out in a way that she had never heard of happening before.

And then he’d thrown itching powder at her.

Apparently there was a metal, Cortosis, that made for potent anti-lightsaber weapons, and had been the death of many an arrogant Jedi. Against a fully powered saber, it’d eventually be cut, but even a dagger’s worth was enough to create an opening that a Force-Blind person could utilize, especially against ‘Padawan-grade Jedi’, by which Lucian meant over two-thirds of the Order.

And so she’d been learning unarmed combat, in addition to everything else her Master was teaching her. Of note here was that, when teaching her mid-air combat, Lucian had gone over how hitting someone with a Force Control powered blow, without any footing, pushed you off in the other direction. The trick, he’d explained, was to combine your blow with a targeted telekinetic push in the opposite direction with equal force.

After a certain point, Master Lucian had instructed her, she would need to do a second push at the point of impact on her hit, lest she get her foot stuck in whatever she was kicking, but Anaïs was a long way away from needing that. Regardless, she’d underestimated the force of her blow, and dropped lightly on her feet, frowning slightly.

As Jabari scrabbled to his feet, he didn’t charge her again, but took a stance, a three-layered bloody circle forming in front of him, from which a ball of fire shot for her, moving with the speed of a blaster bolt.

So, slow.

Barrier or Tutemenis? she considered. She was better with the first, but she did need to work on the second. She winced, practically hearing Lucian dryly asking, ‘Are you really going to allow the chance of failure against an unknown foe for no gain?’

The little bit of practice in the art of energy redirection wasn’t worth the burns she’d suffer if she wasn’t up to the task. With a gesture of her own, she held her hand up, creating a disk of silvery mist the moment before the flaming projectile reached her, and it burst outwards, but didn’t curl around her shield, which she let drop as burning embers splashed across the field.

That attack was physical, she realized, having felt it hit her barrier, and so, when Jabari frowned, and fired another, larger ball of fire at her, she reached out with Telekinesis. Grabbing a fast-moving projectile was beyond her, but a streaming Push, while tiring, was a lot more basic.

Bringing her hands down, then up as she breathed deeply, she tapped into the Force, asking for its help. It moved with her, mirroring her, and the air shimmered with a hint of silver as the stream of kinetic energy shot from her hands, slamming into the fireball.

It exploded, but didn’t dissipate, expanding outwards and was carried along her Push in an incandescent pillar of destruction that headed toward the boy, who started to dodge, but far too slowly. Seeing this, he cast a hurried spell, one with only two layers, before the near volcanic eruption struck him, even as Anaïs hurriedly stopped feeding energy into it.

Weakened from the lack of follow-through, the attack still slammed into Jabari, blasting him backwards to the edge of the arena, until, with a shattering sound, he hit something invisible and bounced off, trying to land on his feet but ending up in a sprawling roll.

AnaÏs, horrified and hoping he was alright, pushed her Force Control up and dashed forward as fast as she could, reaching his side, several dozen feet away, in an instant. She had to stumble to a stop, the technique not one well suited to combat, and dropped into a half crouch, but as the boy groaned, his clothing singed and burnt in places, a red light shone over the arena.

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Right, the end of the match, she realized, having forgotten about it in her worry, and feeling no danger from him. “Are you injured?” she requested, still half crouched, and the boy looked up at her in disbelief, skin darkened even further with a first-degree burn. “Sorry, um, do you want me to heal you?”

“I’ll manage,” he told her, rolling to the side and kipping up to his feet, and she stood as well. “Teach me to underestimate a pretty face. You’re not half bad, Pebble.”

Pebble? Oh, because I’m part of the Minerali Sect. “And your transformation is impressive, Cub,” she returned, getting a surprised chuckle out of the boy, who nodded.

“If you thought his was good, you should see mine,” a vaguely familiar voice called. Both of them turned to see the same woman that Master Lucian had thrown, walking over to them, in a black robe. “I heard little J was fighting the new blood, but he didn’t so much as scratch her. You up for fighting someone more your speed, blondie?”

Anaïs looked at the woman, and tried to sense her intentions through the Force. Normally doing so to another Jedi would be somewhat rude, but she had a feeling that, with the different traditions, different rules applied.

The woman felt like a large feline predator, the grown-up version of Jabari, and had a level of bloodthirstiness to her that set the Padawan on edge. In another Jedi, she’d say the woman was Fallen, but the woman wasn’t a Jedi, and while there was a tinge of Dark to her Presence, it was a minor note in the larger mix of feelings.

“We’ll step in if need be,” one of the fight mediators noted.

The woman scowled, “Come on, Osei. You know me.”

“I do know you, Siri. That’s why I’ll be watching,” the man replied levelly, looking to Anaïs. “You don’t have to, but it would help.”

What it would help, he did not say, and she thought he meant her own skills, but there was something more that she didn’t quite understand to his words. Reluctantly, she nodded, feeling a vague sense of danger.

Anaïs returned to her spot, keeping her Force Control strong, while listening to the Force itself, and waited. The other woman stalked over to the position that Jabari had taken, before narrowing her eyes in concentration, a nine layered circle spreading out underneath her feet, each letter a glossy, curving black, as if each character were made up of sharp claws.

“I haven’t started the match yet,” Osei warned, as the circle collapsed in on itself, the woman’s features twisting and reshaping, skin sprouting dark brown hair, not only to the level that she was at yesterday, but further.

“Brat’s got her spells going. It’s only fair,” the woman growled, unimpeded by her changed mouth, as she pulled off her cloak and tossed it to the edge of the arena. Her body further twisted and contorted, until she hunched over, a wild mane of black hair having growing out and down her back, lifting her head to stare at the Padawan with lambent yellow, slit-eyed pupils.

The Padawan felt something hit her Mental Shields, and slide right off. It was an alien sense of fear that would’ve rooted her to the spot, but against the influence of the Dark she’d trained against, it was barely noticeable.

Siri chuffed with low laughter, casting a look to the moderator, raising a single eyebrow expectantly.

Anaïs could sense the incoming orb of blue light, but also that, a fraction of a second after it shone, her opponent would be on her with speed she’d be hard pressed to match. Closing her eyes, the Padawan pushed Force Control as far as she could go, and waited.

The blue orb appeared, and her opponent blurred forward, but Anaïs was moving as well, charging her opponent to disrupt her attack. The other woman reacted, shifting her gait and pouncing upon the Jedi in an instant, who dove to the ground, barely avoiding razor-sharp claws, and tried to kick her opponent mid-roll.

She hit, and pushed the older woman up with a blast of force, that push the only reason Anaïs’ leg wasn’t torn by flashing claws as the woman counter-attacked, curling around the blow.

The Jedi hit the ground and sprang to her feet, but the Mage cast a spell in mid-air, the flare in the Force the only indication, and jumped off nothing at all to arrow in on the Padawan before she could fully recover.

Anaïs formed a misty Barrier in front of herself, but her opponent reacted as soon as she gathered the Force to do so, twisting to shove her feet down to the ground and leap over the formation without touching it, over the Jedi, lashing out with a kick that Anaïs, despite seeing it coming, could barely block.

It hit like Lucian did, when they sparred and he was training her to fight a foe of superior strength instead of skill, propelling her backwards and through her own construct, which she let fade around her, snapping back into place as she passed through.

Siri, who’d charged after her, hit the misty wall claws first, and was stopped as the technique shattered, but that gave Anaïs enough time to land and try an offensive of her own.

It didn’t go well.

To put it simply, while Anais could react before Siri could even begin to move, the other woman was too fast, and too strong, for her to make any progress against.

Desperately, Anaïs flung a hand out, trying to blindly shove the other woman away telekinetically, even as she knew, the other woman being a more skilled Force user, it wouldn’t work.

Except it did.

The normal ‘Inertia’ that protected all Jedi from being affected by other Force Users directly, unless overwhelmed with raw power, barely existed on the woman, more akin to an Initiate than the Knight, or even Master, level the woman was fighting at.

With a surprised yowl, Siri was carried up and back, casting a quick spell to free herself, but reaching out, Anaïs could feel the technique was a pulse, to break free, not any kind of defense.

I. . I can work with this, she thought, desperately, shifting gears. In a straight fight, she’d lose. Had been losing, as the numerous bloody scratches on her face, arms, and legs could attest, but the mediators hadn’t stopped them.

But she didn’t need this to be a straight fight.

Changing tactics, she dropped the Soresu aspects of her style, the close, energy saving dodges and blocks, and went full Ataru, like her Master. When Siri charged, Anaïs ran, darting out of the way and moving around, only getting a single tagging blow in when she could pull away, the Force directing her fully, as she focused on the Fight, and the Fight alone.

The Force was her guide, and she was going to kick this cat’s ass.

Growling in frustration, Siri tried to pull back, brown skin further darkening from bruises, but the Padawan stuck to her untilthe cat woman cast a spell, sending several stone blades shooting up from the ground to try to impale the Jedi, who grinned as she dodged.

With a telekinetically empowered kick, Anaïs broke one off, lifting it in the air, then another, then another as her opponent charged. The Jedi sent all but one slashing at her foe, the last she carefully struck the bottom of, removing the edge near the base, hands aching with how hard she was pushing herself, but, with them removed, she finally had a blade.

This time, when Siri struck, Anaïs darted to the side, but cut the woman on the shoulder as she danced past. The Padawan couldn’t block with it, the Mage had broken the blades she’d thrown at her with her bare hands, but now the Jedi had a ‘claw’ of her own.

None of the cuts were deep, but they didn’t need to be, as Anaïs dropped deeper and deeper into the Force, moving with it in a way she had rarely been able to under Master Lucian’s training, but every time she had the man had been pleased.

She could feel herself slowly tiring, not used to this level of fighting, especially for this long, but the Force was her ally, and it supported her. The Jedi was still occasionally scratched, but for every wound she suffered, she inflicted three on her opponent, and could feel the tide starting to turn.

Until DANGER blared at her, and she ducked, a whip of fire passing through where her head was.

“YOU WANNA BE LIKE THAT, BITCH? FINE!” the cat woman screeched, the first words she’d spoken since they started, and close to a dozen four-layer circles formed, blasting out bolts of lightning for the apprentice.

Only her training let her dodge the Sith technique that blasted out, though it lacked the dripping sensation of Dark as it scorched the ground she’d just been standing on, though there was more than a tinge of the vile feeling in her opponent’s Presence now. As focused as she’d been on the fight, she hadn’t worried, but the vague sense of danger she’d been feeling had grown more and more as the fight had gone on, and, as Anaïs lifted her mental head, she knew she was in mortal danger.

But still, the staff did nothing. Watching.

The woman she was fighting cast another nine-layered spell, and changed once again, her Presence further Darkening as her fur turned black, and arcs of lightning played over her form.

Help! Anaïs called to the Force, and it gave her a vague sensation, which she held onto like a lifeline. Something about the woman’s technique called to her, but she very much remembered her Master’s warning, so called upon a technique she had considered, but hadn’t gotten to work. She could anchor a Barrier to a moving object, but not herself, but the way the Force, roiling and dangerous, clung to the woman, she, in her own way, tried to do the same, though with the Barrier technique.

Silvery mist seemed to exude from her skin, nowhere close to the solid blocks of a true Barrier, but she didn’t have time for more as her opponent blurred forward, almost too fast for Anaïs to track, at a speed she’d only seen from Lucian, and was on her in an instant.

The Jedi reflexively tried to block with her sword, which was destroyed easily, but diverted the first blow, and gave her enough time to pull away from the second. Orange lightning struck out at the Padawan, despite the claws missing, but seemed to be absorbed by the mist around her, as the girl felt something akin to a Barrier being struck.

Anaïs tried to leap away, but Siri struck out again with a snarl, and though the woman’s claws sliced into the girl’s flesh, they seemed to hesitate at the point of impact, letting the Padawan leap away, on the edge of panic.

Reflexively, she pulled her saber, keeping enough presence of mind not to turn it up to full, but enough to severely burn anything she struck, the green blade springing to life with a hum as the woman closed.

With her blade, in her element, Anaïs blocked the first blow, the stench of burnt fur springing up between both women, and the second, but the third hit, tearing into the Jedi’s arm, even as she pulled deeply on the Force and blasted her opponent backwards with a barely aimed burst of telekinesis.

For a moment, an unescapable DANGER blared to her senses as another circle flashed in front of Siri’s hands, this one with ten layers, and Anaïs threw up the strongest Barrier she could, as the entire field flashed red, but the Danger didn’t abate.

Hunkering down, putting her trust in the Force, the Jedi heard a roar of thunder and felt something massive slam into her defenses, eating away at them, as she desperately tried to hold on, only for an all encompassing Presence to SLAM down on the area, the sound of a thousand bonfires roaring in her ears, as a wave of heat passed by her, and the assault on her Barrier was stopped in an instant.

“I Do Believe The Match Is Over,” a voice from the stands growled, low and menacing, but Anaïs felt no danger. If anything she felt like was standing, protected, by a great beast, and, feeling outwards as she looked up, she saw the Headmaster standing there, looking very upset. The man’s eyes were burning orbs, red scales extending up his neck to encompass his chin, and hands, clenched around a cane, were clawed and smoking.

Dropping her barriers, and trying not to drop to the ground herself from tiredness, she turned to see Siri bound in flaming chains, on the floor of the arena, struggling slightly before the woman went still.

The others watching her, and there were a lot more people watching her than she’d realized, were utterly silent as the old man turned to survey them all. “I expected better,” the headmaster remarked, “Then for one of mine to use lethal techniques against a student, especially one of the third circle.”

“Third circle?” Siri spat, furious, though she’d dropped her spells and returned to normal. “If that bitch’s third circle I’m Plantae!”

“Do Not Tempt Me,” the headmaster thundered. “Maybe a change of Sect would give you the Discretion You Lack.” From the way the bound woman paled, that apparently wasn’t an idle threat. “Our new student is third circle for while she is unknowing of our traditions, her Sect hyperspecializes for combat.”

No we don’t! The Jedi are peacekeepers! Anaïs wanted to object, but, the Force subtly warned her to stay silent.

“They weaponize their Foci, and are killers, all,” he continued, and, while she still wanted to object, the face of the man she’d murdered on Noonar flashed in her memory. She truly wished she hadn’t had to, but she hadn’t had a choice. “Observe.”

The man gestured, and a humanoid figure made of obsidian pulled itself out of the ground. It charged her, slowly, and while she felt the vaguest sense of danger, there was barely any to it. Glancing at the Headmaster, he nodded, so she turned her saber to full, and, with a single empowered step, launched herself past the puppet, slashing through its interposing arm, its chest, and with a flick as she moved by it, she carved off the top of its head.

The Force-controlled puppet dropped to the ground in three pieces, and she stumbled slightly, exhausted, but as the Headmaster turned to the others gathered she had a feeling she’d done the right thing.

“That is why a novice could fight a tenth-circle Wizardess, even if she would have likely lost. Likely, yet not certainly,” he added, giving her weapon a significant look, and she understood.

If these Force Users lacked in any true kind of Force Sense, unable to be warned of incoming danger as the Jedi were, they wouldn’t realize the destructive capacity of a Lightsaber. If they weren’t prepared, and tried to block it, like the older woman had blocked, and destroyed, her rock-sword, they’d lose an arm, and their life a moment later.

Then again, if Anaïs was hit by whatever the woman’s last spell had been fully, the Padawan was certain she would’ve died, or if they’d fought seriously from the start, and she didn’t get that lucky hit with her weapon. The other woman had been playing with her, like a cat with a mouse, which had worked, until the mouse had started to bite back.

The Jedi in training had a feeling no one would make that mistake again.

“Treat her with respect, as you should any other fellow student,” The headmaster, still partially transformed, declared, and his Presence in the Force seemed to slowly turn its draconic head to stare at the gathered Mages intently. The old man snorted, satisfied, his scales starting to fade. “Good. See that I do not have to return soon.”

And with that, Draconis turned and strode out of the arena, no one moving until he had left, except for the Padawan, who calmed herself, reaching out to the Force to heal her wounds, silvery mist flowing to fill her scratches, torn flesh slowly reknitting.

One of the Staff members, the one who hadn’t been watching the match, glanced over at her, surprised, but the Padawan shrugged, unable to read the older woman’s expression.

Feeling lightheaded from exhaustion, and possibly blood loss, she started to head towards the door, tensing as Jabari and the rest of his pack quickly approached her. “Can I help you?” she asked, unsure.

“You fought my sister,” Jabari declared.

She glanced to the others, trying to keep the right frame of mind to continue healing, but the others were just staring at her warily.

“. . . I know. I was there,” the Padawan finally replied.

The boy shook his head. “No, you fought my sister,” he insisted.

“I’m not fighting you again,” she offered, remembering how this entire thing had started.

Jabari blinked. “What? No! You’d win easily. Wait. Yes! But not today. I need to prepare,” he rambled, and she wondered if he’d hit his head. “But you fought my sister.”

She started to feel frustrated, as the boy just said the same thing over and over again, but she felt her Force Healing waver, so focused on the here and now, trying to keep a helpful mindset. “You can keep saying that, but I don’t know what you mean.”

“I’m saying you fought my sister,” he repeated, unhelpfully.

Finally, one of the others spoke up. “Siri’s scary. Really scary. And you made her bleed.”

“I mean, she did the same to me?” Anaïs offered, gesturing towards her torn, bloody outfit, thankful she’d brought a change of clothing, and more than that, that Lucian had helped her learn how to fix cloth by ‘healing’ it, more as a micro-telekinesis exercise than anything else, trying to find the mid-point between Telekinesis and Force Healing.

“But you fought my sister,” Jabim repeated.

The Padawan looked to the others. “Is he okay?”

“I think he’s in shock,” one of the other girls, the lupine one, offered. “I’m Kamaria, but you can call me Kama. My cousin is Zeeno,” she continued, pointing to the other wolf-Presenced boy, then to the last boy of their group. “This big lug’s Itoro. The quiet one’s Ganizani,” she stated, the last girl raising a hesitant hand, “And that’s everyone.”

“What about me?” Chiku demanded.

“Yep, everyone,” Kama nodded. “We were gonna get lunch, and I think the blood makes you look even paler, somehow. Want to meet us at the dining hall in half an hour? We really should get Jab to the healers.”

Anaïs, not having expected the invitation, nodded, only now realizing how out of place her pale skin was compared to the darker-toned locals. “The one over there?” she checked, waving in the general direction of the building, getting a nod in return.

“See you then!” the girl told her, grabbing Jabari and pushing him out the door.

The Jedi was left, standing there, idly healing herself, and drenched in blood, with one thought.

Did. . . did I beat someone up so hard we became friends?