Chapter 65: It Was Her Idea
Nerim raised his head, looking nowhere in particular as the sounds washed over him. He wasn't sure what instruments were playing. A piano, soft and pleasant drums, deep lulling strings, and something brassy.
"What is this?" He asked.
"It's cinnamon," Aesha answered.
"No, not the—" Nerim looked down at his drink, which he had already half-drained. He was never quite sure when something was going to be
carbonated, but this wasn't. It was smooth and sweet, cold and yet a little spicy, with a hint of a pleasantly bitter aftertaste. He liked it more than soda. "It
is quite good. But I meant the music."
"Oh. Well, that's a complicated question, actually," Aesha snickered, taking a bite of a cookie. Tetha looked at it longingly, still not cleared for solid food. "Most people call it sway. Nobody can agree if it's a subgenre of b'ssa nuuvu or the other way around."
"I like it a lot," he smiled.
Aesha crossed her arms, amused. "You liked the neoclassical symphony, too. You have the music taste of a little old man."
"No I do—"
"And what's wrong with that?" Tetha leapt to his defense.
Nerim blinked. "Wait, do I?"
Tetha glanced to him blankly, and then tilted her hand side to side.
"I liked the thing that Rodian kid played when we sparred!" He argued.
Aesha cut in excitedly. "When did you first realize the other was Force Sensitive?"
Tetha rested her chin on her hand. "The moment I laid eyes on him," she said dreamily.
He flushed. "I was hunched over a counter eating a bantha burger, how spiritual could I be?"
"Likes burgers," Aesha snickered.
"
Tsst!" He mimed a zipping motion at her, causing her to laugh harder.
Tetha smiled. "Well? When did you realize?"
He thought about it for a moment, taking a sip from his bendy straw. "I'm not sure my conception of Force Sensitivity really works like that. Everyone is Force Sensitive, to some degree or another. It was more like a gradient of realizing you were stronger and stronger with it."
Aesha stopped laughing, her mouth open in surprise. "So
that's why you said that, back at the diner. That I'm already using the Force."
Tetha raised an eyebrow. "Is that true? Is she Force Sensitive?"
"I mean, yes, that's what I said. So is everyone here," he shrugged. "But her natural aptitude is about the same as mine. You have way more than both of us."
"What?" Aesha reared back in shock.
"Is that true?" Tetha asked simultaneously, leaning forward in confusion.
"Yeah," he placed the cup down. "I think sometimes you people underestimate just how much training I've done. I spent every moment of every day since the very same afternoon that I was born in a training facility. Every active Force User I've ever met has been much more naturally powerful than me. But the Brotherhood, the Syaniids, they uh...no offense, but they were amateurs. They had a couple years of remedial training from other late bloomers, at best."
"No offense?" Tetha's nose wrinkled with a challenging smirk. "Are you counting me in that group of amateurs?"
Nerim frowned tightly. "Not exactly. I mean, you trained in fencing and things from a young age, too. And you had actual, proper training in the Force...Albeit, from a Sith."
"A what?" Aesha's eyes widened.
"A Sith holocron, to be clear," Nerim raised a hand in a calming gesture. Then he sat up straighter. "Oh, right. A holocron is a type of—"
"I know what a holocron is," Aesha said, staring at Tetha in awe. "You received
Sith training?"
Tetha took a long sip of her drink, placing it down and then gently dabbing her face with her napkin, before replying "Yep."
"So you know Revanchists were nothing like that!" Aesha smiled hopefully.
Tetha's brow furrowed. "Uh, my understanding was that Revanchists were
big time Sith."
"
No!" Aesha whined feebly, dropping her head onto the table.
Tetha looked genuinely confused, turning to Nerim. "Were they not?"
"It's complicated."
Aesha heaved a big sigh. "The saviors of my people are
not Sith..."
"How do you explain the whole
Darth Revan thing?" Tetha asked, bewildered.
"I-it was a ploy! To destroy the Sith!" Aesha hastily replied.
Again, Tetha turned to Nerim. "Is that true?"
"It's complicated."
Tetha turned back to Aesha. "I'm pretty sure he was a Sith Lord, at least for a while."
Aesha clenched her fists. "She was the one who saved the Jedi Ord—wait,
he?"
"
She?" Tetha mirrored her abject confusion. Both women stared at each other with complete noncomprehension. They turned to Nerim.
"It's compli—you know, let's just agree that none of us here are Sith and move on," he rubbed his forehead.
The table was quiet for a moment. Aesha warmed her hands on her cup, and spoke. "Nerim, if I'm Force Sensitive, then could you train me?"
"For what purpose?" He asked, eyes narrowing. "If this is about—"
"I want to have mental defenses," she quickly clarified, "So the Jedi cannot read me, or fluster me, during the trial."
He leaned back. "Oh. I see. Hm..." He thought for a moment. "That's doable. But, actually, I find the most effective form of mental defenses to be of Mandalorian make."
Aesha's lip curled in slightly visible disgust. "Mandalorian techniques?"
"What? You don't like Mandalorians? They're your neighbors, you know." He teased.
"Well, I just..."
"You're going to like them by the end of this," he grinned smugly.
___________________________________________________________________________________
"Alright, give it a shot," Nerim said, nodding to Tetha.
They were all three sat on cushions on the floor of the penthouse that had been gifted to the former-Jedi. Aesha was sitting in a proper (and entirely too tense) seiza with her hands on her knees and her eyes closed, ready for any attempts at mental intrusion.
Tetha raised a hand towards her head, and spoke lowly but firmly. "Open your eyes. Look at me. Now."
Aesha's eyes opened, pupils shrunken.
"Sway is a subgenre of jatz," Tetha commanded.
"What th—augh!" Aesha raised her hands to her head, closing her eyes and shaking her head. "That is
awful! My mind got all...
slimy..."
"Hm," Tetha hummed. "Not my best work, but still, she's no pushover."
They heard a door open and close upstairs, and a pair of uneven footsteps. Arwain appeared, leaning over the loft, with messy bed hair and bleary eyes. She looked down at the group. "Who's using Force powers down there?"
Nerim frowned deeply. "Why are you walki—"
Another door slam, and Jianno's voice boomed from somewhere unseen upstairs. "
Why the hell are you walking?!"
Arwain pouted. "I am no mundane sentient, I am a Master of the Force! I'll heal however quickly I damn well please!"
Tetha cupped her mouth and called up to her. "Go back to bed, granny!"
Arwain's eyes suddenly opened and focused like a targeting computer. "Oh, you are
dead—"
Jianno appeared and slapped a hand over Arwain's mouth, and leaned in and said through grit teeth "If you tear your stitches open, I am going to
lose it."
When Jianno removed her hand, Arwain went back to pouting. "But I hate the chair. It was funny at first, but I feel like such a tool carrying on with that thing."
Jianno didn't respond, grabbing Arwain by the shoulders and carefully leading her back out of sight. "Student! You better not be teaching Jedi techniques to anyone who asks!" She called.
"I'm not!" He called back. "It's the Mandalorian method!"
"You
what?!" Jianno's voice replied.
Nerim winced. "Oh stars. Now we're
both in trouble."
Aesha looked up at the loft, snickering, while Tetha silently raised her hand again. Aesha shuddered, and then whipped around, focusing directly on Tetha's eyes. "Hey! I wasn't ready!"
Tetha half-smiled. "You're going to have to always be ready."
Slowly, Aesha nodded, and Nerim stretched his arms out. "Remember the beat," he said. "And the meaning. The beat and the meaning are more important than the words. You're producing a counter-signal that overrides the mind trick, not directly fighting the mind trick itself. If you directly grapple the mind trick, you're already letting it into your mind in the first place."
"Okay," Aesha said confidently. "Hit me again. And after this, we could do some lightsaber training," she joked.
Nerim looked at her. She wasn't joking. "There's no way you got that thing working."
"She has a lightsaber?" Tetha asked.
"Well, no, it's not working yet," Aesha placed a hand to the back of her neck. "But...if I'm Force Sensitive...?"
"Not every Force User needs a lightsa—"
"Yes they do," both women responded simultaneously.
"Yeah..." He sighed. "But this isn't Force training! This is Mandalorian training!"
"In regards to the Force," Aesha said flatly.
"
Technically distinct!" He replied seriously. "I am
not performing a schism!"
Tetha cocked an eyebrow. "Did you and Arwain ever have that talk about the word technically?"
"It's just—I—" Nerim ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "You two don't understand. This is one of our greatest taboos, as modern Jedi. You don't split up the Order. You don't start making unaccountable Jedi."
Aesha scoffed. "Then they shouldn't have exiled you."
"She's right," Tetha said, with only slight begrudging. "They're the ones who split you off. You either follow their rules, or you leave the Order. It can't be both. And they decided for you."
"It's not like we're completely separate, that's not possible," he argued. "They're still the Knights of the Republic, and I'm a Republic citizen. In a way, exile is more like a...demotion, than a casting out."
"Uh, no," Tetha shook her head firmly. "That was a casting out. I was there. They do
not treat this like an amiable parting. They castigated you, disavowed you, and told you to leave and never come back."
Aesha nodded. "Perhaps you should learn something of being a Republic citizen, then. We believe that rights and responsibilities go hand-in-hand. Honor and oathkeeping. Rules and reward. You can't have one without the other. They can't cut you off and make you follow their rules, treat you as dishonored and expect you to upkeep their oaths, strip you of your rights and demand you keep following their responsibilities. That's unfair! No one should be treated like that."
Nerim looked down. "The Jedi Order isn't exactly in the business of
shoulds."
"They
should be."
He looked up. They both awaited his answer. He closed his eyes, opening himself the Force.
Hey, Force, what should I do? He asked.
Yes.
He jumped, opening his eyes.
Did you just...?
He looked between the two of them again, and sighed. "Okay."
Aesha gasped in excitement.
"But I don't have a lightsaber to teach you with!" He clarified.
Tetha leaned over. "Wait, doesn't Cathar have a lightsaber crystal cave?"
Aesha's excitement melted into frustration. "Ugh. Yes. The Jedi Order has a Knight and some Educorps Jedi Servicemen stationed there, now. Apparently they want to study it. And keep it under lockdown, implicitly."
"Ah. Well, it looks like synthetic is our only option, again," she shrugged.
"Great," Nerim rubbed his temples, "They'll see me with a red lightsaber training a group of Force Users. That'll convince them for sure. To
bomb us."
"Fae Coven had a red lightsaber," Aesha pointed out.
"And not all synthetics are the same color," Tetha added. "Machina told me that his was a sort of pale red, almost pink. He never understood what made them change."
"Hm..." He considered it, looking down at his green skin. "Maybe I'd look good with a pink lightsaber."
Aesha restrained a giggle.
"W-well okay, nevermind!" He pouted defensively.
"I didn't say anything bad! It'd look nice!"
Arwain's voice called from above again. "I think a pink lightsaber would suit you, Padawan!"
"Okay, nevermind," he said flatly and with more conviction.
Tetha frowned. "Don't let them bully you! I think it'd look great."
"Let's just—" He sighed and stood up. "Let's drop it. I'll get another caf and then we can train more."
He moved to the kitchen, and Jianno trundled down the stairs. "He'd rock it," she said, walking out the door before he could respond.