JediKaren

A few days later, in the late evening when the whole temple had quieted down for sleep, I was still up, on the computer. ”œShould not you be in bed?”

There was one advantage of going first and that was you didn't have to wait, wrecking all nerves, for your name to be called. The worst part was you got to see everyone not make the mistakes you made and groan because someone performed better than you and there was nothing you could do about it. There were three people that stood out in my mind as I watched them go through the moves. The first person was the new apprentice, named Irini. She stuck her head up, refusing to show any nervousness, though she could not hide it from my Force sense. She bowed shortly and quickly to the teacher, us, and her new master, Deila Cobral. I silently cursed at myself for not thinking to bow to my master. Perhaps, because Irini was only a week new with her master, she was still trying to gain the respect from Master Cobral. I carefully watched her moves. She went through them ok. She had clearly practiced them, but she had no grace or anything to write home about. She ended the show with a quick bow and promptly sat down. I turned my head around to observe her master nodding in approval to her. There was a sharp nudge in the Force as Mirmo grabbed my attention. His glare and unhappy features said all. He clearly did not approve of me spying on the new master and apprentice team and titled his head to indict I was to turn my attention back to the class. After a few students went, one young man, about the age of nineteen stood up. His posture was of assurance. His walk was slow with a natural grace. The highlights in his hair caught to dappling sunlight, turning his brandy brown hair into a deep red. His blue eyes were deep, sensitive, with maturity and conscious for himself and others. The students politely parted for him, the comments died down. He looked around as he walked, making eye contact, communicating so powerfully and yet without the Force. Bright hopes and whispers of good luck sprang up around him. He inspired goodness in people and he was a natural leader. Here was my dream, my crush, my day dream ideal date taking his place for the test. His name was Roan and I thought it was the most day dream name of all. There was just one thing wrong with my perfect man. Roan was horrible at lightsaber skills. His hand slightly shook. He didn't bend his knees when he was suppose to and then stood straight as unbending stick during the times he was suppose to lower his center of gravity. Roan could barely remember to bow and even that simple movement was almost too much for him. The cool, self assured person I laid eyes on a minute before had been replaced with a seemingly young boy, sweating nervously, hands shaking, eyes darting, showing he was struggling to remember what came next. ”œYou may begin Roan.”

I don't really know anything about sword fighting except what I have seen in the movies and what role playing online has taught me. Thank you for reading, that goes to everyone!

Master Mirmo was the first of the knights and masters to take an apprentice from my class of students. He took me much earlier than anyone else, and as I hear some say behind my back, too early. There was a huge mountain of mystery about us. Students wondered why he took me. I constantly caught students, and even staff at times, studying and analyzing me, as if they were trying to understand the clouded history of me. The buzz of talk concerning Mirmo was clear that even knights and masters that had been part of Mirmo's class, could not understand why he choose me, especially after refusing to take an apprentice for so many years. There seemed to be equal amount of mystery in the subject of me. No one knew me, for I didn't talk very much and turned stone cold silent when I sensed a prier. Even Lyn didn't know too much about me. She knew of my personally, my unpredictable hyperness, my ever so fast changing moods, and of my talents, but she was excluded in my history. She was the only person that didn't mind not knowing me fully. To be fair, I didn't know much about her and it was understood that I didn't need to know. Our friendship was strong and steady enough to respect each other's need for privacy. It was other training that I received on Earth that had taught me, though it was not meant to, to ignore being looked at or knowing people were trying to look at me without being noticed. I had learned enough self control not too blush, not to let my heart race, and fumble around, but to act as though I was blind to their stares of wonder and continue my every day life. Privately, I found the looks annoying. There was nothing special about me. I was a no one. Back at my home planet, I was one in billions, just a number with no name, no money, no power or fame, and no reason for anyone to give a care about me. This unasked for attention brought confusing messages of who I was and what I should think and do. No one knew, with the exception of my master, the only Jedi I confided in my troubles of new given interest among people I didn't know, how much of relief it was for the attention to turn on the new chosen apprentice. I was sick of awkwardly avoiding people's same questions on a weekly basis and hiding in strange places to escape wondering eyes. It was now my turn to do the staring on the new girl, a tall, skinny female with bright flaming red hair, and try to understand why she got picked. She seemed a bit pushy for my tastes, a bit more on the bossy side that I was, with less consideration that almost extended on to the side of rude, when she was around people. Unlike me, she was surrounded by a group of adoring or pitifully jealous girls. She had a loud voice that carried her commanding presence. She was picked, well, I guessed, for her skills in the Force and leadership. Her master was not quite so pompous, but the master gave me a new appreciation for Mirmo. We were all standing in the matted floor with gleaming white walls of the lightsaber training room, nervously chatting to each other, with a few who were going over moves minutes before the test. As usual, I stood a pace away from the group, radiating my normal ”œleave me alone”

Sometimes my dreams did weird things. At times, I could redream of a dream, or be aware that I was dreaming, change a dream that was going in the wrong direction, or even continue a dream. My dream that night was a continuation of the last nightmare. Mirmo says nothing, making me feel worse. I hate my father. Even here, so far away, he has hunted me down, criticizing all that I love, all that makes me happy. I can not be him and can never satisfy him. My father grows angry at his silence. My father continues to spit out words of loathing disgust towards my master, aimed at him and at the Jedi. My father takes a menacing step forwards to Mirmo. I feel my father's anger like a boiling rage, threatening to overspill into violence. I cowered in the dark corners of the room, as I silently beg my master to do something. Mirmo keeps his tranquil, polite glaze steady on the insane man before him. Out of loyalty and desperate dread, I step out of my fearful hunch, to give a warning to my master. My father, filled with madness, turns around and swings a powerful slap across my face. I am forced to the ground by the impact of the hit. My face stings with humiliation and shock. Mirmo finally takes a step forward. My father whips out a gun, not a blaster, and shoots my master in the chest. My master stares blankly at the hole, now dribbling deep red blood. I scream in angst and denial my master's name. I sat up, my blankets have been kicked half across the room and the pillows were scattered around in my bed. My throat was sore from the scream I gave that woke up me. Sweat dripped down on my face, stinging my eyes. I could feel the hair on my neck stand straight up as I became aware of my shaking hands. It was just a dream. That couldn't happen. My father wouldn't kill anyone. Or would he? He had been in the army. He had killed in the army. He had threatened to kill me before. I forced a racing heart to slow down and regulated my breathing enough that I could feel the Force. I extended my mind, picturing my peaceful dreaming master, to him, feeling the soft reinsuring presence. It was just a nightmare. I looked at the time to find I might as well get up. I headed for the shower to clean up after that sweat bath and to wash away the vivid visions full of strong emotion out of my head. I focus on the spray and the welcoming heat to clear my mind out. This was not the day for nightmares or stress. Today was all about getting to pass this lightsaber practical exam. Today was the worst day to lose my nerves. I needed all the focus I could get. My thoughts wandered back to Mirmo, trying to understand how he could fail to stop the bullet that was a sure death. Did he not believe me? He did underestimate the wrath and angry power of my father? Did he so honestly believe that peaceful meditation wins all? I shook my head to shake the doubts out of my head. Again, I reminded myself today was not the day for such thoughts. Stepping out of the shower, drying my long, brown hair, I wondered what I should do in my time before classes started. I could go talk to Mirmo, but perhaps it was best not to talk about this and not start up calmed down fears. I could go find Lyn and hang around her, but our relationship had grown enough that she would pick up my mood and ask questions I didn't want her asking. It was best that she was in the dark about my reoccurring nightmares. As far was I was concerned, she didn't need to trouble herself with my pitiful past. The burden was mine to bare, though my master stubbornly protested against this. Then I thought of what to do. Go outside. Go where there is natural peace. Go where no one can bother you or would look for you. Go outside and heal. I took a deep breath, as much as my lungs could take, of the morning dew, of crunching grass and leaves under my feet, of the smells of millions of animals, and of the perfume of wild exotic flowers. It was the smell of the living Force, a smell I could keep smelling for eternity. I opened myself up to the full span of the Force, losing my identity, mind, and personality to the consciousness of the Force. For a moment, I forgot about I was standing, slightly sweating in the heat of the rising tropical sun, and was only aware of the universal at large. But, this was only for a few seconds and my attention dropped back to the ants that had decided to climb up my legs and onto my hands. I shook them off and began walking. I did not go far because I did not want to lose sight of the temple, not knowing how to get back if I did. There was no need to go far anyhow. The various plants were of so many colors and different shades, I was sure I could find a new color no artist had ever used. There were glimpses of wild life, mostly small, darting birds and rodents, to catch the swish of a tail or heard the rustle of leaves when the birds took off. The jungle was alive with the sound of music coming from the birds whistling, creaking, and barking out their song of mating or demanding food. One could hear the distant howls and answering cries of packs hunting breakfast. I looked up to see darkening grey cloud pre-tell the promise of a rainy day. The clouds where low, covering a great amount of land and slow, like an evil presence slinking sneakily to sieze control and ruin all hope of light. I shivered, being reminded of my dream. I headed back to the temple, not so much for the rain, but because my stomach demanded with rude growls that I feed it. I found my master waiting outside of the dining hall. His questioning face told me he knew of my little stroll and knew there was a reason why I could take it so early in the morning. I was not about to retell my disturbing dream, so instead I smiled, brightening up my presence, and cheerfully greeted him, asking how he was. His eyes narrowed as he greeted me back and said he was well. He followed me into the room, starting to fill with hungry Jedi. I knew I had only briefly avoided being questioned, knowing I could not escape him the whole day, but glad he decided not to drill me now. As I ate, I begin to prepare myself for the up coming test, one I would glad just to get over.

”œWell, you should pass, if you do that during the test. Now, I think we can improve those moves. First, you need to think about what you are doing.”

I walk a lonely road The only one that I have ever known Don't know where it goes But its home to me and I walk alone I walk this empty street On the boulevard of broken dreams Where the city sleeps And I'm the only one and I walk alone I walk alone, I walk alone, I walk alone, I walk a.... My shadow's the only one that walks beside me, My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating, Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me, 'Til then I walk alone I'm walking down the line That divides me somewhere in my mind On the border line of the edge And where I walk alone One, two, three, four, pivot. One, two, three, four, pivot. Back step, followed with a forward step, stop, one, two, one two three, turn right, stop. Back cross with left, stop, balance, spin and one, two, three, four. ”œAn interesting song with interesting moves.”

Please note that yes I am ok and this is an old story, wrote several months ago. It was dared by my best friend after I came home from a rough day at work and was never truly meant for my father. Anyway please enjoy this dark and slightly pg13 story. ************************************************************* He had gotten the letter a few days before, while sitting in a chair, in the kitchen. His heart had stopped for a second as he read the horrible words of his daughter. She hated him. Not just dislike, or mild anger towards him, but a thorough grown with the many years of mistreatment hate. Her words were soaked in the foulest taste of hate, nearly seeming to spite on him as he read the letter. What was worse, she didn't just hate him, but hated everything that was connected to him. Each letter, each sentence was a shocking, mind blow hit to his every essence. Through the years, he had known of her constant tempers, her bad mouth, and glaring eyes, but he dismissed this, thinking it was only hormones and really, a lack of control over her emotions. Women were silly. It wasn't too much of their fault, although he was sure that if her daughter wanted to, she could have controlled herself better. Women didn't and shouldn't have much in the way of power or choice making. It was startling and annoying how his daughter seemed to fight this idea. But, he had to remind himself that she was a woman and women were silly enough to think they could dominate the male role in society. He got about half way through the letter, grimacing at her emotions and thoughts before he put the letter down and walked away. It was just another fit she was having. Surely, she wasn't really going to leave the family forever, or even dare to tell the family of his little secret. His daughter had strange ideas about her importance over the family. No one would really care about her, or take her seriously. He had done nothing wrong to her. She claimed she had been mistreated numerous times, but he disagreed. She needed discipline and it was not his fault that she forced him to the strongest punishment to get it through her head she would respect him. Daughters were to respect their father and fathers were not obliged to respect their daughters. When it came down to the word of a man and a woman, the man always won. This was not unfair, or so he thought. It was just the way life was and he could not understand why women wanted this to change. What he missed when he dropped the page long letter was the last sentence about his death. He had out the letter out of his mind, but something within him, almost a gut type feeling, though he did not believe in ”œgut”

I tried to swallow, but with a dry mouth there was nothing to swallow. My eyes darted around the room, to the floor, to Luke's face, back down to the floor, over the walls, and finally to the bookcase, where the cane laid. Curious, I asked Luke if that cane really once belonged to Master Yoda. ”œYes”¦but that will not get you out of answering my question. How did you know him? He died before you were born.”

Using every skill, empathy, telepathy, scanning, linking, and what ever else the Force would provide, I came to the conclusion that my master was embarrassed. He seemed to feel a bit guilty for letting me stressing out until the stress affected my health. He hid his embarrassment, by replacing it with a stubbornness I had never observed before. Every night he made me clear my mind out before going to bed. He refused to let me get too worried about anything and demanded several times a day to know how I felt. This new regime did not go over well with me. I understood and even privately thanked him for wanting to look after me, but he was pushing the limit of what I would tolerate. When he announced a week after the new intense meditations that he wanted me to take down all shields, I stood my ground and refuse to obey. ”œKaren, this is no an option. I want all shields removed.”

lol sorry about that. I knew there was some correction I had missed. I got it now. Thanks. Also sorry for making you all wait for so long. It won't happen again.

”œHello Master healer, how are you?”

Vague dreams of swirling, misty, confusing feelings that were hazily fearful filled my mind that night after Mirmo had entered my mind. The dream content was nothing distinct and when I woke up, I could not remember what had caused me to break out into a sweat. I knew my sleep had been fitful and I had not gotten a good night's of rest. My body ached and slow moving. I felt as if I was starting a cold, but when I sent the Force through my body, I sensed nothing that would confirm this. I got dressed and sat sleepily at the computer, waiting for Master Mirmo to come for the morning meal. ”œKaren, are you ok? You look pale”

sorry about that. ************************************************************ I stared at the door, too tired, too numb to find the energy to say anything. I wasn't sure if I wanted company or not. I wasn't sure how I felt. My mind felt blank, empty, unable to form thoughts or feelings. I wasn't sure of anything. ”œKaren, it's me, Lyn. Can I come in?”

I was called to my master's room a few days later. I found him sitting in front of his computer, playing another cursing game of pazaak. I laughed out loud and asked him if he was ever going to learn. ”œAfter I win the next game”

You mean, she thinks she went over to the dark side. Remember, her point of view is not to trusted always. My master looked so oblivious as to what was wrong with me. Couldn't he see and sense the fear and turmoil in me? Wasn't he worried about me? If he was, he kept a very straight, relaxed face. ”œIs there something bothering you, Karen?”

Thank you all. I think I got sick of writting too many jokes and did a grand finale on drama. So, here's some more for ya. ******************************************************** I woke up, sometime later, with the first light of the day shining through my window. My body was covered with a blanket and a cup of water by the side of my cot with a small note saying ”œdrink and feel better”

Well, enough with the joking, on back with the drama!!! Thanks for reading! *************************************** Pain, embarrassment, guilt. These are the feelings that pound me. My father radiates a feeling of evil and to be feared. His voice is loud, his words are harsh. He has frowned from the moment he laid eyes on the temple. He scowls at all Jedi, muttering insults to them under his breath. He is always near me, surrounding me, overpowering me, consuming me in his hate. My heart rate skyrockets as he and Master Mirmo meet. I want to run. I want to cry. I beg my father to not do anything. I am screamed at, being told to shut up. I stare at the floor, wishing I could die. I flinch as my father tears my master apart, dissecting his ways of teaching, calling him soft, spoiling me, and ruining me. Mirmo says nothing, making me feel worse. I hate my father. Even here, so far away, he has hunted me down, criticizing all that I love, all that makes me happy. I can not be him and can never satisfy him. It took me a second to realize why there were wet, salty streams on my face. I remembered the dream, the nightmare and burst out into tears. I cried softy in the dark, wishing the pain would leave me alone forever. There seemed to be no end to the past. I had a craving to get on the internet and then I remembered the internet connect crashed after dinner, causing my master to become very depressed and moody for that night. I searched my mind for other options to escape from the pain and fear. I decided to grab my music player and head out for an empty room. After some dancing with the pain, fear, and anger, I felt my master touch me with his mind. I turned my head away, closed my mind to him, and moved to a dark corner of the room. I leaned against the wall, staring at the door, knew my master would enter that door soon. A few minutes go by before I hear the slight creek of the door. Mirmo walked slowly up to me, but stops a few feet away, respectful of the space my sore heart needs. Both of us are silent for a while. I gave him fleeting glances, unsure of what I want to do, to run into his arms and cry, or to disappear in the wall. ”œYou dreamed of your father again?”

Well, I can honestly say that I've read far too many Star Wars stories when I start writing stuff like this. Also note this story is responsible for my lack of sleep”¦or for that matter ”œtrying”

I eagerly rushed past Master Mirmo, to the door panel to open the door, but an arm held me back. I looked up at Mirmo, wondering why he wouldn't let me through. ”œBefore I loose you to an absurd hyper state that I may never be able to get you out of, I want to know what happened to get you so angry.”

*falls over* aw man...I even read over this chapter, looking for mistakes. *sighs* I can write, but not edit.

After a silent breakfast, Lyn and I split ways to our different classes. She was several levels above me, far enough to start helping the younger and newer students, which would explain her appearance that first time. There was nothing strange about my morning classes, except that Mirmo glared at me when he spotted me in his meditation class. He then demanded that I feel the Force in the whole hallway, an extremely hard task that involved a ton of focus and he wouldn't take excuses. I guess this was his way of getting back at me for his wake up call. At one point during his class, I tested our bond, carefully watching my master for any physical reaction. I sent the Force to him, not sending any emotion or thought, but looking for a response. If he noticed, he never showed it. My Force class was strange in the choice of topic. The teacher talked about the mind and how the Force can be used. The lady, who told me off, still did not like me, but since I kept within her assigned limits and my master had told her what was going on, she didn't talk to me. She talked about how the Force can influence the mind, and how the mind influences the Force. ”œThe Force is a flowing river that branches out into little streams. These streams are the ties, the reasons behind so much. The human mind, conscious or not of this awareness, can have the tiniest effect on the universal energy, which seems so small, and yet have the biggest of changes on people, on society and of the world. There is no such thing as luck, but the directly flow of energy which effects and changes the odds of events to the will and want of a certain person or group. A Jedi who can read the future, does not read, feel, dream, or see a written one path, but is exposed to a thousand different paths and given one of the most likely routes of the upcoming future. Even reading the future may have already changed the winding path of time and have forever demised what the Jedi has seen. That is why no one should ever rely on that ability. The Force, to come back to something simpler, is a special energy, created by all living and always dead mass. The Jedi are of the chosen through evolution, to be aware and use the Force. The energy between the Jedi is the rarest and least understood connections in the galaxy. There is a link, a bond, a connection between two well know Jedi, which is so powerful, it is said to be greater and stronger than love. The bond between a master and an apprentice is a valuable thing, more much precious than all the riches of the core planets. For those who have yet to be chosen as an apprentice, we will practice linking minds together, and perhaps you all will be able to send a thought or two.”

hey, not bad at all! Keep it up!

Thank you all for reading. For the Luke thing, well, that will be answered in another chapter, but not for a while. ************************************************************* Lyn got up very early that morning and woke up me. I have never been a morning person and when I opened the door, I greeted her with a big yawn and a grunt for ”œhello, good morning”

Thank you all for your comments. I wasn't sure how to do the whole diolog thing, but yeah. Anyway, here's the next chapter ********************************************************* Because I had never done kitchen duty before, I was given the job to set the dinning hall up. I was to put the linens on the tables, organize and lay out the silver wear, get the plates and glasses out, and put the fresh, hot food, out on the serving tables. I didn't mind the work for it was easy. Cooking would be a bit hard, seeing how I barely know the names of most foods I eat and have never cooked with them. Once I was done, I was told to hang around the kitchen and eat there. For some reason, the kitchen staff wanted the helpers out of the way and away from the view of the people eating. I grabbed some food, a wall to lean against and starting digging into my food. ”œHey.”