Star Wars: The Age of Peace

It was a particularly lazy afternoon, something that would be counted amongst the rare days within the Temple, at least in light of the past year. I think one of the reasons why it felt like that was that half of the Masters were away, taking their Padawans along with them. I realized this was the norm, usually, as Jedi were mostly out in the Galaxy, helping where they could and going away, doing their own missions. They simply returned when we arrived, primarily to teach us the basics and probably to examine us, even if we never talked to many of them. They would have watched us without us realizing before leaving again, committing us to memory. I was sure of it.

Leaving the library, I made my way toward the common area, and I couldn't help but notice how the remaining groups of Padawans naturally clustered. It wasn't intentional, but the longer we were at the Temple, the clearer it became: everyone had their little circles. Some formed bonds over shared interests, like sparring techniques or love for starship mechanics. Others seemed united by little more than their shared homeworlds. 

And then there was Vila. 

She wasn't hard to spot—leaning against a tree at the edge of the training field, arms crossed, her violet eyes scanning the crowd, probably waiting for me so she could drag me away to spar with her. Others... weren't really interested in substituting me as her opponent. She wasn't the kind of person to join a group anyway, but that didn't mean she was entirely alone, either. Plus, over the past months of daily battles, we'd become something close to actual close friends.

I paused for a moment, feeling her gaze land on me, and I offered a small wave, watching her posture shift. "Here we go..." I thought to myself. She smirked back, throwing her lekku behind her back, almost shouting something before she stopped herself and then looked away. "Oh? Holding back?" I hummed to myself, surprised. Well, maybe she heard that some of the people began asking me if I was being bullied, dragged away by her to fight in some kind of death battle every day. Maybe she tried holding herself back because of it...? I almost laughed out, finding it hilarious. I didn't mind our sparring bouts at all, on the contrary. It was helping me get better much quicker, and I already told her this a million times. Well... That doesn't mean I don't appreciate a day when I can rest a little...

As I continued walking, knowing today's lightsaber duel wouldn't last four hours, a familiar voice called out behind me. 

"Kael! Wait up!" 

I turned to see Jalo Vreek, the rodian Padawan with a knack for dramatics and a hero complex that could fill the Jedi Archives, catch up to me. His rush turned into jogging, and his bright green skin was especially vivid in the sunlight. Since I helped him break through his fundamental meditation problem, he also was someone who opened up to me completely, and... he was a walking history encyclopedia. When he learned, I spent a night in the library, reading about our Grandmaster, he just started stating facts, facts, more facts, and then his ideas on how certain events could have or should have played out. Followed by dozens of 'what if?' scenarios.

"Jalo," I greeted with a smile. "Let me guess, you've got another bold plan to save the galaxy?" 

He chortled, adjusting the strap of his utility belt and tucking something back into one of its compartments.

"Not today. I need a hand with meditation practice. I can't get the rhythm right for revitalization to forgo sleeping. You've got that knack for it—figured you might help me out." 

"Sure," I shrugged, keeping up my smile. "I've got some time." 

Maybe Vila saw him approach me? That was why she didn't come over to me? Wait, was I some kind of training dummy? Being passed around between the other Padawans? Oh well... I am happy they asked me for help, so it doesn't matter. We found a quiet corner near the garden paths, where the chatter of the other Padawans faded into the background. Jalo settled into a cross-legged position, his brows furrowing as he tried to focus. For a brief training session, it should be peaceful enough out here.

"Breathe in," I said, lowering myself onto the grass across from him. "Feel the air filling your lungs, like waves flowing in and out." 

He closed his eyes, following my lead. I extended my senses, reaching out with the Force to subtly guide him. I wasn't trying to influence his mind directly—that would be invasive—instead, I was trying to create an atmosphere of calm that he could latch onto. 

"That's better," I said after a few moments. 

Jalo's breathing steadied, and his tension began to ease. A faint smile crept onto his face as he followed my guidance. It didn't take long, only half an hour, for him to feel the improvement, his mind and muscles refreshing thanks to the meditation technique we were taught. A moment later, he carefully canceled it and opened one eye to glance at me.

"How do you do it, Kael?" he asked, sighing, "You always know exactly what to do. It's like you can just… tell what people need." 

I shrugged, not wanting to explain the truth. My Force sensitivity made it easy—too easy, sometimes—to pick up on others' emotions. There were moments when I felt that I was intruding on them without being invited. Occasionally, I felt I was doing something wrong because it wasn't just about reading body language or guessing their moods; I could sense their doubts, frustrations, and hopes. And I knew instinctively how to respond without thinking about it. 

"It's just practice," I said, deflecting. 

Jalo nodded, seemingly satisfied with my answer, and we returned to meditation. After a while, he seemed to find his own rhythm, deviating from what I was showing, which was good. Everyone had their own ways, so I left him to it and made my way back toward the common area. 

As I rounded the corner, I nearly collided with Iowi Mer'tak, a senior Padawan who had been at the Temple for years. He looked down at me, his expression unreadable, though his presence in the Force felt sharp, like a blade hovering just out of reach, drawn out of its sheath. 

"Kael," he said, his tone neutral. 

"Iowi," I replied, stepping aside to let him pass, but he paused, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"You're quite the popular one these days." 

I blinked, caught off guard by his words. What does that mean? Older students rarely talked with us; they had their own studies to focus on and their own groups of friends. And... I could feel that he wasn't harboring friendly emotions toward me, quite the opposite, in fact.

"I just try to help where I can," I answered, trying to diffuse the situation.

"Hmm." He studied me for a moment longer before walking away, his footsteps echoing against the stone floor. 

The encounter left a strange weight in the air. His words weren't outright hostile, but they had an edge that lingered in the air...

Shaking it off, I continued to the common area, where a group of younger Padawans had gathered around a table, laughing and chatting. Among them was Vila, too, sitting on the edge of a bench, her arms resting on the table as she listened to the conversation with a faint smile. 

"Hey, Vila," I said, sliding onto the bench beside her. 

"Kael," she greeted, her tone casual but warm. 

One of the younger Padawans—a zabrak boy named Tenar—looked up from the conversation and grinned.

"Kael! Vila was just telling us how you beat her in sparring yesterday!" 

I shot Vila a surprised look, and she shrugged, her smile widening. Finally, opening up to others? It was about time! And wait... telling them about how I won? Not about how she won more? Our current score was 51:64 and 4 ties.

"I told them it was a fluke," she said, her tone teasing. "But yeah, he got me. Just once." The group laughed, hearing her say it like that, and I felt a flicker of pride mixed with embarrassment. "Well, don't get used to it," Vila added, poking me in the arm. "Next time, I'm taking you down. Again." 

"I want to see that match!" the nautolan boy laughed.

As the conversation continued, I couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging. The other Padawans' laughter and fellowship were genuine, and for a moment, it felt like I finally was amongst genuine family members—part of a proper clan.

But even as I sat among them, I felt a faint ripple of unease through the Force. Glancing around, I noticed Iowi appear, standing in the doorway, his arms crossed as he watched us. No... He was watching... me? His presence was heavy, his emotions clouded with something I couldn't quite place. 

When our eyes met, he turned and walked away once again, leaving a strange tension in his wake. Was he... following me? Observing me? What the hell? Vila also noticed as she nudged me, drawing my attention back to the group.

"What's with the face? You look like you've seen a ghost." 

"Nothing. Just… thinking." I shook my head, offering a slight smile.

She studied me for a moment before letting it drop, turning her attention back to the others. As the afternoon wore on, the group began to disperse, some heading to the archives, others to their rooms. Only Vila remained, leaning against the table as the sun dipped lower in the sky. 

"You're always thinking," she said after we sat there for about ten minutes, saying nothing. Her tone was much softer now than how she acted when others were around. It was just how she was, only showing her vulnerable and caring side to those she truly felt a connection with. 

"What do you mean?" I glanced at her, surprised by the shift.

"You're good with people," she stated clearly, her eyes meeting mine. "Better than most. But sometimes, it's like you're trying too hard. Like you're trying to fix everything. Or help everybody. You can't. Not even the Grandmaster can. I think..." she added just barely audibly at the end.

Her words caught me off guard. Vila wasn't the type to mince her remarks, and her honesty always cut straight to the point, even if sometimes people found it insulting.

"I just… want to help," I said, struggling to find the right explanation. 

"Yeah, I get that." She nodded, her expression thoughtful. "But not everyone wants to be helped, you know? Sometimes, people just need space. Try to help too much; you will appear to be pushy. Looking like a snob noble prick who knows it better than they do. Lecture too much, and people will think you are a prideful bastard." 

I frowned, her words sinking in deeper than I expected. She wasn't wrong—my sensitivity to others' emotions sometimes made me overstep without realizing it. I... Was I truly like that? Ugh... I need to control myself if that's the case... Or else I will turn into my father.

"I'll keep that in mind," I shrugged, feeling a bit... weird.

"Good!" She chuckled, her usual energy returning. "Now, let's go! I'm starving, and you're buying. The prize of my invaluable consultation!" 

"Sure!" I laughed, shaking my head as I followed her toward the cafeteria. It's not like we were paying with money for anything here anyway.

For all the connections I'd made, Vila remained the one constant. As much as I tried to help others, her blunt honesty, never really asking for my help, but accepting my suggestions when I gave them. In turn, she always told me what she was thinking, even if it was something I may not like. Well... wasn't honesty a trait of the Jedi?

I believed so. Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that not everyone shared her perspective. Iowi's lingering gaze, his sharp presence towards me in the Force, it almost felt like he was making sure to keep me away from him—it wasn't the first time I'd sensed it, and I doubted it would be the last.