The Golden Padawan

by Diane Lau

  It wouldn’t have been so hard either if it weren’t for the quality of his presence in my life. Of course from the first moment he had been positively inclined toward me, but the establishment of a “real” friendship which occurred over those days only enhanced this. He developed a fatherly protectiveness towards me which sometimes belied his habitual teasing in the most interesting way. He might be badgering me and grinning at my miffed reaction, but all the while I felt from him a tender affection that was as palpable as a warm blanket on a chill night. He was an extremely independent soul, used to a lifetime of being on his own, but I also sensed him reluctantly allowing a thread of reliance upon me to form. What he relied on me for, I couldn’t fathom. But I felt it nevertheless.

  I genuinely feared the strength of the bond between us. Or rather, feared the pain that would come if it broke. And since our future held no possibility of the same path, what other outcome could there be?

  If Brenan were bothered by such concerns, I couldn’t tell it. The link was not that specific. However, it was clear that something was disturbing him, something which seemed not to involve me, because his agitation increased when he was away from me. I didn’t know what he did with his time outside our sessions; I knew there were meetings occurring, both with Master Yoda and with the Council, but the subject of these was a mystery. Something severe must have occurred mid-week, for I experienced second-hand turmoil much of that day. I kept my ear to the ground for news of trouble in the Republic, but heard nothing. I felt guilty for being bothered by my own foolish problems when there might be something dire afoot in the larger world.

  Whatever these difficulties might have been, Brenan set them aside on our last day. He even made himself available for us to go to supper at the Meri-Borx. Full of their renowned geddotuber pie—what more appropriate dish might we have shared?—and imbibing more than a few ales, we had a joyful meal in spite of our impending separation.

  “A full stomach seems to bring you great contentment, Brenan,” I told him as the steward took away our empty plates.

  “From a time I didn’t always enjoy the privilege,” he replied, “but tell me, when will it cease being so unnerving to have you read my moods?” His stern look was in jest, but I knew there was a certain earnestness to the question.

  “Sorry. Are you getting used to it at all?”

  “No offense…it’s just that I’ve never been one to wear my heart on my sleeve. I don’t like the exposure. Between this and your knack at getting me to tell you everything…”

  “You don’t tell me everything. I don’t know where you’re going tomorrow, or why.”

  He studied my face a moment. “There are things I don’t tell you because they’re more than a trainee should have to bear. I’m not secretive just to be mysterious. More ale?”

  “One more, although I shouldn’t.” I was in a curious mood, and maybe it was the ale…in the warm lamplight of the Borx, my friend looked suddenly so good to me, such a face that made me rejoice just to look at it, such a form that made me wish never a day had to pass without my laying eyes upon it. The moment of happiness gave way immediately to pain, and in spite of myself I said, “Bren, where are you going?”

  He signaled for the steward, holding up two fingers, then turned back to me and sighed. “Hopefully, where I should be. I’m needed somewhere else right now, I should be changing my plans, but something holds me to them. I just hope I’m doing the right thing.”

  I was at a loss how to respond to this mysterious statement, so I held silent. Our ales arrived and we drank. Then Brenan said, “I’m going to Aleyra, to study under Master Teg.”

  Aleyra was far, very far. “Why?” I asked simply.

  “Because I need to be advanced to Master, and I never will unless Teg can help me.”

  “He’s the one with the…”

  “—the psychic skill. Master Yoda tells me if anyone can help me, it’s him.”

  I could perceive Brenan was not comfortable discussing this. The whole matter puzzled me. “You can’t be saying you’re weak in this area…then how do you explain—?”

  “It’s you. It’s just with you. I told you, when I played dice against Puer Xis I didn’t stand a chance if it came to telekinesis. I don’t know what it is, I just can’t apply the Force that way. In a fight it’s easy. If I need to deal with some challenge, rise to some occasion, no problem. I learned to hold my bleeding when I was eighteen. But thought control…the mind trick? Nothing. And I couldn’t lift this ring two inches off the table,” he finished, brandishing his right hand, which wore a gold band on the first finger.

  “I don’t believe it,” I said. “You’ve been in my head all week. I thought you—”

  “It’s the only reason I’m not a Master yet, Aeli. And I need to be one, soon.”

  He took a long drink, as if to indicate there would be no further elaboration on that point.

  “Try the ring,” I told him. He looked a little disgusted, but took it off and set it on the table between us. I could sense how little he liked having to demonstrate an inadequacy. “A wise man once taught me not to rush these things,” I added.

  He gave me a quirky smile. “The same wise man may have taught you to be a bit of a smartass,” he said. I laughed.

  Brenan turned his eyes to the ring. It floated five inches into the air.

  “By the gods,” he said, aghast.

  “Told you,” I said, although I was as shocked as he was.

  “Did you do that?” Brenan asked me.

  “Absolutely not.” I held my index finger up. “Here, put it on my finger.”

  He shook his head, flabbergasted, and we watched the ring rise, travel the distance to my hand, and settle easily and gently down the length of my finger. The weight of it came to rest. I stared at the ring on my hand, a wide gold one engraved with suns around the band at the four compass points.

  “It’s very pretty,” I said matter-of-factly.

  Brenan replied, as if in a dream, “It’s been in my family for five generations. If I lost it, I would be disowned.”

  “I suppose you’ll have to ask Master Teg about this, when you ask him about everything else.”

  “I suppose I will.”

  Then Brenan snapped out of his baffled reverie. “I want to try something else,” he said. “Go outside once, just outside the door. Out of my line of sight, but leave the door ajar.”

  “If you’re going to move it across the room, keep it high so no one snatches it…”

  “Or low,” he said. “Now go.”

  There was no disobeying when he took that tone, so I went. I dodged through the crowded tavern and slipped out the door, leaving it open a couple of inches, and trying to look nonchalant all the while. I stood there, holding out my hand with the fingers spread, and kept my eye on the opening in the door, scanning both high and low for the ring’s emergence. Fortunately no one came or went for the next minute, and then at last I saw the glint of the ring scooting low through the opening. It floated up, finding my index finger easily. I closed my hand into a fist around it. I wanted to shout with glee.

  I flung open the door and scampered back to the table, sitting down and holding out my hand to Brenan triumphantly. He simply shook his head. At last he said, “Well, at least now I know I’ve chosen the right thing to do next.”

  “Do you know now?” I asked, gladdened to the core to hear this.

  “Without a doubt.”

  I made a move to pull off the ring, but he covered my hand in his.

  “No, keep it for now,” he said.

  I stared at him, astonished.

  “If you lose it, I’ll be disowned!” he admonished me.

  “Why are you doing this?” was all I could manage to say.

  Brenan looked at me, trying to conceal the emotions I could easily feel anyway. “It’s the kind of thing that means something to you, isn’t it? Having it until I come back?”

  “Yes,” I said, feeling the sting of tears sta
rting. I squeezed the ring with the fingertips of my left hand, feeling the little suns.

  “I don’t know how long I’ll be gone,” said Brenan. “I’d tell you if I knew, but I don’t.”

  I nodded, and turned the ring around my finger. It was much too big, I would have to put it on a chain.

  “You’ll be all right,” he told me firmly.

  I sighed deeply, trying to believe him but not at all convinced.

  We didn’t speak about it on the walk back to the Temple. Instead he told me stories about the ring, times it had been lost and found again, the various men who had worn it and their histories, for they had all been interesting and eccentric gentlemen. Brenan’s father had been a Jedi too, killed in battle while Brenan was yet unborn, but he knew so many stories about the man that they seemed to have a strong connection even without knowing each other.

  If Brenan Auri-Owan was anything, he was a master storyteller. I forgot to be sad, I didn’t notice the buildings passing us, until we came to the entrance to the trainees’ quarters.

  It was then that my dread and sorrow got the better of me. I could no longer keep the emotions at bay, though I tried with all the self-discipline my Jedi training had taught me. I stood before Brenan, feeling small and already lost, absolutely unable to find my voice to bid him farewell.

  When I looked up into his face I found a most remarkable sight: the reflection of all the weight that bore down upon my heart. The next moment was even more amazing. I thought he had put his arms around me, but in fact they were still at his sides. Something enveloped me, something sweet and warm and comforting. My head tipped to the side involuntarily, as if resting against the presence which was not actually physically there. It was a moment’s relief, enough to strengthen me for saying goodbye.

  Brenan took a step closer, took me by the shoulders, and kissed me on the forehead. “I have one more word of instruction for you, soon-to-be Padawan,” he said soberly.

  “Yes?” I whispered.

  “Don’t cry. I have to come back for that ring, so don’t cry.”

  That night in my bed, I discovered it was possible for me to disobey him.

  PART TWO

  The sad side effect of my strange bond with Brenan was that it made his absence more sorely felt than any separation I had ever experienced. And yes, he was truly and totally gone. Whether this was a result of his being on a planet so extremely far away, or from some deliberate barrier he—or perhaps Master Teg—contrived, I could not find any trace of him no matter how hard I tried.

  Two things served as my only comforts at first: the knowledge that the Force connects all living beings, and the fact that I had the ring. Auri-Owan had indeed been wise in giving it to me; it was remarkable how the weight of it, hanging from a chain on my breast, gave me confidence that I would see him again. I had to rely on the most basic human methods to soothe my grief, like slipping my finger into the band and thinking of how his hand had worn it, worn it during all the stories he told me: when he killed Quel-zil in the cave, when Puer Xis saved his life, even when he was a young Padawan learning from Master Yoda. If he were to wear it again, it would only be after seeing me.

  It was hard at first to go back to lightsaber practice with Brenan gone. Too much of that pursuit brought back fresh memories to me. But I took this as a challenge and set aside my emotions so I could work, since that was of course what he would tell me to do.

  The following month I performed Celanarian’s Drill for my lightsaber final. I was told it was one of the finest performances by a trainee which the Temple had ever seen. Glad as I was to hear this, it pained me not to be able to share it with the one who deserved the credit. Still, it was good to have fulfilled all the requirements for lightsaber training, so that I could focus on the other areas of my development which still needed a little improvement: hand fighting, piloting, and mechanics, for example. Interestingly, I took new interest in meditation and matters of the Force. My breakthrough in learning the Third Routine from Brenan had done wonders for me in this regard. As the weeks passed, I realized I truly was trembling on the brink of being selected a Padawan, largely due to the renown I had achieved in the lightsaber.

  In bed at night I distracted myself from missing Brenan by fantasizing about the adventures I might soon experience. My favorite was one in which I prevailed in a life and death struggle with the Sith Apprentice, whoever he might be, eventually beheading him with a perfectly executed move. Typical trainee daydreams…

  …I certainly didn’t anticipate the different path my life was about to take.

  Life continued at the Temple as it had gone for all my years there, with one exception: there was a strange tension in the air. The Masters were oddly humorless, the Council huddled with even more secretiveness than usual, but there was not a whisper of a rumor about what was the reason. This last was the most disturbing of all, for it meant that whatever was going on was so dire, the Jedi Council had decreed absolute secrecy. We would be told when we were supposed to be, and not a day before.

  And one day it was time. First thing in the morning, our Masters announced to us we were all to go to the Great Hall at once, that Master Windu would be addressing all the trainees. I found Cal on the way and he looked as stricken as I felt: we both knew that the big secret was about to be revealed and it wasn’t going to be good news. I clutched at Cal’s arm as we hurried to the Hall; there was real fear in the air around us.

  Everyone sat in awful quiet, with the Council seated in their tall chairs at the head of the Hall, looking grim. Finally, with a nod from Yoda, Master Windu rose and spoke:

  “My fellow Jedi, it is imperative at this time that the Council share with you some developments that pose a serious danger. The fact that this danger now threatens you personally has persuaded us that we must take all possible care, including telling all we know about the threat.”

  I had never seen Mace Windu look so concerned. I started trembling and absently placed my hand on my chest where Brenan’s ring hung on its chain.

  He went on. “Six months ago there was an incident on Naboo. A Padawan by the name of Dhold Ortemar, apprentice to Master Laijak, was lost. He disappeared from his bed at night in a situation which should have posed no danger. His body has not been found, nor has there been any trace of him throughout the regions we patrol. Our spies have no clue as to the reason why he was taken. His Master has lost all link to him, a fact which mystifies us most of all.”

  Master Windu took a deep breath and continued darkly. “As troubling as this incident was, it grieves me to tell you that five weeks later, a similar one occurred, also on Naboo. Another Padawan disappeared, this time while out on an errand for her Master. Once again, we exhausted all means of locating her, once again, we failed. And since that time, there have been repeated occurrences of the same nature, three more on Naboo, and six on other planets less distant.

  “The development which has made this situation too appalling to keep in secret any longer is this: Last week we lost a Jedi Knight in this fashion. The Knight, whose name is Puer Xis, was on a mission to deliver information to a far planet when his associates lost touch with his ship.”

  My heart skipped at this—did Brenan know of the loss of his friend?

  “The ship was recovered abandoned, with no sign of struggle. Obviously it is very disturbing to us that a Jedi Knight has been taken without a trace. It is clear to us that no one is safe from this threat, least of all our young Jedi. Some of you will be chosen as Padawans soon, it’s not right that you should go forth unprepared.”

  Master Windu walked around the table, to stand closer to us. “I wish I could tell you how to prepare! In all my years I have never had to face a danger which so shrouded itself in mystery, which eluded analysis to such an extent that we cannot even wisely advise you what precautions to take. I can only say, be strong in the Force, be wary for any sign of unusual activity, guard yourselves constantly against the Dark Side, for certainly it is that evil which could
accomplish these acts so undetected. Watch out for each other, stay armed when you are out in the city.

  “If we learn of anything that could enlighten you as to how to guard against this threat, you will be informed at once. In the meantime, direct your questions to your Masters, who have been fully briefed with all we know.”

  Master Windu looked us over with his eyes brimming with concern. Then he said, “You may be excused. May the Force be with all of you.”

  Cal and I looked at each other wordlessly. Something of our world had been undone, for we were used to the security of knowing the Council had the wisdom to face any challenge, the skill to fight any evil that threatened us. We felt exposed, confused, at a loss as to what was to be done.

  There was really nothing to be done but carry on as before, burdened now with an uneasy wariness that never quite left us. I was doubly worried because my friend Brenan was far away, and I had no way of knowing if any harm came to him. At least there was comfort in the fact that he was in the company of Master Teg, for I trusted no one to be more sensitive to the presence of evil than a Master as strong in the Force as he.

  * * *

  These trials bore on me, and so I decided to use my tried and true technique for coping with worry: more activity. I signed up for Volunteer Assignment, a duty that would also serve to broaden my trainee experience a bit.

  The VA duty I drew would change the course of my life.