Space

[Frond]

Frond had sensed the presence of his fellow apprentice and had listened to his ramblings; however, before he had a chance to turn to a form that was capable of audible speech, Kel had rushed off, leaving Frond to rustle his leaves in a sign of laughter …younglings…Learn much to so. Busy always so.

 

Returning to his contemplative meditations, Frond had passed the rest of the day, his root like lower appendages soaking in the nutrients of the well cared for soil of the Temple arboretum and his leafy top collecting the synth-sunlight from above. His meditations swirled as he contemplating the guiding winds of The Force and how it connected every living thing across the galaxy that so many regarded as the be all and end all of existence, instead of the deeper invisible connections of The Force.

 

As the synthsun was dimming its final rays over the plants and beings within the temple, Sandy had approached Frond and advised him that they would be departing. Although he assumed her bit about changing clothes was more directed at Kel than himself, given his natural unashamed nakedness, save for the regal clothing of leaves and vines that he toted along with him.

 

Transforming back to his humanoid form, Frond followed Sandy and Kel to the smaller ship along with a few others he did not know that rocketed them into space. Once aboard, Frond frowned, he was not a big fan of space travel.

 

Once connected by space lock to the larger Courtland, Frond, along with the others shuffled aboard. There was more room on theAA-9 where he was greeted by crowded hallways and passages teeming with a variety of beings from across the galaxy; mostly human/humanoid, although there were a few more odd specimens that could be seen milling about. Passing by a particularly odorous group of boisterous and well-armed Weequay, Frond quietly adjusted his usual towering height down to a more manageable height as the trio wound their way through the crowded ship.

 

”Instructor Sarna transport is a refugee this?” he asked, absentmindedly as he took in the vast array of beings and tucked his training saber out of sight into a knothole in his midsection, sealing it up trap death is this. A choice lightsabers seem poor like…

 

Eventually, the trio was able to take claim of an opened section of bench that had been vacated by a rather angry looking family of Ortolans mumbling something about finding mynock steaks in the cafeteria.

 

Turning to his fellow travellers, ”long if journey is be this to nourishment will I find need”

[Frond]

Frond could not help but smile at Ficcabin’s concern for his wellbeing. Little did he know that when one embraced The Force, little concern was felt for one’s mortal form. After all, it was nothing more than a prison that contained one’s signature in The Force to this fanciful plain.

 

Without a word he followed Ficcabin aboard the ship. Watching the Givin settle into the pilot’s seat, Frond could feel the Givin’s aura begin to relax for the first time since they had met.

 

Stepping behind the skeletal being, Frond placed his hand on the man’s shoulder, as he spoke.

 

”Good. You have that feeling at that the helm. Of the that call is The Force. Peace this take, your enshrine in it heart. Confront when the darkness inevitably we, cling peace to the you that will this be. Your peace to allow this peace at the soul helm to the peace of become.”

 

Only then did Ficcabin ask the question that Frond had asked himself. Where were they going to? The Force would guide him. The Force would guide them. However, if truth be told, he did not know. Even as he closed his eyes to reach out, he was unable to find the glimmering threads that were the souls in his vision. Perhaps he was too late. Perhaps he was too early and those souls had not yet even been born into this plane. Yet Frond could not shake the feeling that he needed to go and confront the dark worm seeking to subjugate those terrified souls. Perhaps there was more to this. After all, The Force had led him thus far. The Force had brought him to the Jedi. The Force had brought him to train under Sandy and train beside Brother Kel, and now it had brought him aboard this derelict freighter with this skeletal being, Ficcabin Yule. The Force had not failed him yet. It had always provided him with an answer.

 

Perhaps it was time for another lesson, here drifting just outside the orbit of Felucia. The Force aura of the planet was palpable even here, the peacefulness of the natural darkness that swirled below mingling with the true neutral power of the flora and fauna.

 

”you peace that feel, embrace it. Your close eyes. Your reach with out mind. Mind and soul in your it submerge. No confined are so within longer the mind of your do until prison you own. Moment in that, see out and reach the invisible. Aura feel the planet the radiating from. The you ship around the feel. Crystal and your mine feel. Find then me. To reach my out mind. Meditate I on shall my vision. Show The Force let where you show go to. Form the it to allow coordinates, in your not mind, in your soul but. Then, then only and, not do think. Act. The Force to the computer the digits allow into.”

 

At that moment, Frond fell silent, confident that Ficcabin would understand his simple instructions on how to find himself in The Force and to reach out and connect their minds. Tilting his head back to look up towards the ceiling, Frond closed his eyes, a meditative technique that spanned beyond cultures, races, and religions. Then he began to search his innermost thoughts and memories allowing his vision of yellow fog and dead trees to wash through him and radiate from his mind. He ignored the dark worm’s presence and the cries of the unseen souls, focusing instead on the rocky barren landscape. It was shrouded in every direction in thick rolling yellow billows of fog. In the fog the occasional single blackened and withered spire of a long dead tree jutting upwards like a forgotten wizard’s keep pierced the sickly yellow.

 

Focusing on the surroundings of his vision and the very surface of the rocky world, Frond hoped that Ficcabin would be able to sense it through The Force and use his innate love of numbers and logic to feel through The Force and find their destination.

 

”Now. The Force through flow you let.”

[Frond]

”Garn? Have this heard of not I world. Us guiding if is The Force, go we shall. It The Force wills.”

 

Frond nodded as the ship slipped into the alternate reality of hyperspace. He could easily see that Ficcabin was quite focused on his task of piloting the ship and he waited until they had settled unto their hyperspace journey before he spoke again, contenting himself to stand as still as a tree, allowing the Givin’s subtle, natural, manipulations of The Force to wash over, around, and through him. It was clear that even without training, Ficcabin Yule had a natural affinity for piloting and that The Force, unknown to even the pilot, aided him. Ficcabin Yule was a skilled pilot because The Force willed it so. To Frond, that was odd in and of itself.

 

[i[To skills why The Force one outside no had that world would fanciful bearing this guide?[/i]

 

Frond pondered this thought for a while. Unable to come to an answer, he redirected his thoughts to the skeletal being behind the ship controls.

 

” Brother Ficcabin done well. Guides The Force it you clear is that. Open to you and your you flow through to need just it allow mind. Like Beyond Shadows just travelling, understanding have you another taken The Force in step. Seen you visions have. Beyond the continuing is their darkness to banks rise. To world are this travelling we, Garn, us awaits a dark there worm. Light must go and there we the preserve.”

 

“Controls you when leave ship’s are the able to, in me the storage join bay. Aspect I of The Force you will another teach.”

 

With that, Frond took one more glance at the streams of bluish light whizzing by in never ending innumerable lines past the cockpit window, realizing how easy it would be to become entranced by such a vision. Then he turned and in his characteristic shuffle, scraped across the deck plating out of the cockpit.

 

Making his way through the derelict ship, Frond found his way to the mostly empty storage bay. A few secured crates of food stuffs and spare parts seemed to be all that there was in the otherwise dimly lit bay.

 

As much as Frond desired to find a way to allow the light of the numerous stars to flood his foliage and nourish his woody frame, he knew that he could survive without it for a time. As they grew closer and closer to the world in his vision, Frond knew that here, in this moment, he had another responsibility. He would teach Ficcabin what he could of The Force.

 

Upon Ficcabin’s arrival in the gloomy bay, Frond offered a warm smile that radiated through the very fabric of the air through The Force. He was happy to see his fellow seeker. In his humanoid form, Frond carefully settled to the ground, his legs criss-crossed beneath him, with his legs flexing so that his rooty feet were above what could only be described as his knees. He signaled for Ficcabin to do the same across from him.

 

”Is many choose the form in mind-walkers of this my meditate to brother.”

 

“Try you taught allow Jedi the me me and teach to something. Levitation. Your floor place on the crystal you before.”

 

As the Givin placed his cubic keepsake, Frond’s eyes twinkled.

 

”Doesn’t cube helps this connect to you it The Force? Your close eyes. Breathe. Feel again The Force. Between nothingness here the worlds between spaces of, my crystal, you for me found the seed, still the air, it feel all. You once all them feel, from The Force your flow mind and allow them through them through to, your heart into. The Force you can when feel, you this felt like it of vessel the helm at, out reach. The mind your crystal feel with. Hand out your reach with. The hand call to your crystal. Move the air feel The Force. The pick to it allow crystal. Forward it bring.”

 

Frond knew that he was not skilled at the ability he was seeking to introduce Ficcabin to; a side effect of his eons of dedication to Force contemplation and lack of implementation. Even now as he took these infantile steps into the world of the Jedi, Frond was versed in feeling The Force not using it on the physical plain. Still, Frond watched the Givin for a moment before closing his eyes, reaching out to try and envelope the new seeker before him in a warm embrace. He wanted to encourage the Givin. He wanted him to succeed, to embrace the simple ways of The Force, of the light.

 

”Not frustrated to yourself allow do to become. You that peace find the feel your helm at. That hold. The true that Force is of the warmth. At frustration failing, of incompetence fear, anger, will these the dark side open to you. Resist them. Peaceful your center remember. You the joy in flight feel, numbers your, the learning joy of, will anchor these to you the light.”

[Frond]

Frond knew that feeling The Force and manipulating it in this fanciful world were two different things. Each being had control of the body The Force willed them; but Frond found that manipulating it on a physical level was a different challenge. It spoke to him, guided him, and he allowed it to flow through him; but, like Ficcabin, he struggled with bending The Force to his will. Perhaps The Force was not meant to be bent. Instead, they were to bend to The Force.

 

Even as Frond felt a surge of frustration radiate from the Givin’s being, he began to respond,

 

”Of servants The Force are we. You have I should this perhaps taught first. I code the Beyond Shadows you remember do when recited went we?

 

Frond queried, his concern for Ficcabin’s quick turning to the dark side, apparent in his voice,

 

”The listen to words. Will answers they find help the you you seek. The focus words on, you have not seen what. Feel you must. Block thinking only will you. Thoughts The Force transcends.”

 

Tipping his head back with his eyes closed, Frond began in a hollow chanting song-like voice, his usual verbage replaced with understandable words as he echoed the mantra he had known for many lifetimes,

 

”There is none but The Force

I am but a disciple of The Force.

Those who seek to bend The Force are still but vessels of its will.

The will of The Force will right all wrongs

The Force guides all, but each is free to choose right from wrong.

All knowledge and power is of The Force.

The Force is life.

The Force is Death.”

 

Frond opened his eyes and stared downwards at the cross-legged skeleton before him.

 

”On the concentrate words. The ignore worries. Your out block thoughts. Your open heart.”

 

He gestured down at the crystal again,

 

”Again. Call it. Do fail not.”

[Frond]

Frond’s body visibly relaxed as his relief at Ficcabin’s success washed over him. Even as Frond struggled to let The Force flow through him to control his surroundings as to The Force’s will, he was gladdened slightly to see that Ficcabin grasped it as easily as he did. Frond knew that he was a servant of The Force, even if his inability to do exactly what Ficcabin had done troubled him deeply enough that he would not and could not let it show on his wooden features. His skills lay elsewhere, even if Frond had not fully accepted the fact that his natural precognitive farseeing abilities were a gift that not all Force wielders possessed.

 

”First steps your. That peace, The Force will in you find it. Tempts the when you darkness, the hold peace onto. Then will only a Jedi you become. Is that, wish if a Jedi you be to?”

 

Slowly, Frond stood up, offering a hand to the Givin to help him up, motioning for Ficcabin to follow him. As they fell into step together and shuffled towards the doorway they had come through before, Frond spoke,

 

” Must two of The Force be the sides balanced, light the the and darkness. Return me to it this balance calls help. So do to, must darkness the we not as fear the do as Jedi. Now right, the it is seems darkness surging. We therefore align the to must ourselves light. Beacons are the light of the Jedi. Brother Ficcabin will become what you, Jedi or a The Force of a servant?”

 

Making their way deeper into the ship, Frond stopped in a dimly lit passageway, apparently the ship was enough of a relic that regular maintenance of the glowrods within the ship had fallen by the wayside. The single flickering glowrod down the hallway cast eerie shadows on the sentient tree and skeletal being, adding enough of an ambience to the air to chill the last words Frond uttered before he turned to shuffle off into the darkness,

 

”The land ship. Are going shall we where we dragons fight.”

 

And with that, Frond shuffled out of sight into the darkness, making his way towards the entry of the ship just as the ship wide comms dinged to indicate that their drop from hyperspace was imminent.

 

 

There in the light of the still functioning glowrods, Frond stared at the closed loading ramp without really seeing it. His eyes stared through the gray durasteel door and deck plating, the vision he had seen Beyond Shadows playing through his mind. The yellow mists, the dark worm, the dead trees; even they did not trouble him. The death of what many would consider Frond’s kin barely scratched the surface. No, it was the unintelligible screams of fear and pain that spoke to Frond’s soul. The screams were not dark. As Frond allowed the vision to wash through him, The Force guided his mind as he analyzed it, the invisible source or sources of the screams almost seemed to radiate with a palpable, if not pale, light. That much was troublesome enough, but it was not all. The Force stirred deeply within Frond’s cordwood.

 

”A bad have about I this feeling.”

 

Frond whispered, his voice trembling ever so slightly.