From Coruscant to....(Closed for Apollo Wilde and Naphalm)

[Naphalm]

He watched from the corridor, and he couldn't help but watch, as Madoka struggled to put her pants back on. His mouth gaped when that fleshy hint appeared for a split second, the beautiful curve of a toned and pert cheek wiggling enticingly as she slid herself into the garment. Finally she settled with a slump and when she looked at him, her almost drew back from the brief scowl that crossed her features. He wasn't entirely sure what he'd done wrong but maybe this was just another aspect of the conflicting emotions he sensed last night. He really wanted to ask her about it, to see whether talking would help but he didn't need the Force to see how that conversation would go.

"My Sleep was… troubled." He told her as he entered the room properly, glancing at the holoscreen with disinterest. "I suspect it will be until…" he trailed off, not sure how to say 'until I accept that all the Jedi are gone, "until we know we're really safe," he concluded.

They lapsed into silence and with the freedom of his visor; he was able to watch Madoka. There was something quite charming about her dishevelled look, but her 'mental guard' extended to her features. Dac could read nothing in her eyes to reveal her true thoughts or feelings, it was most unsettling… and was her pants on back-to-front…?
Her voice snapped him from his thoughts and a flicker of a smile crossed his lips. "I am eager to begin," he said, trying to keep his voice cool and level. He didn't know how the training would go, but at least they were starting with something he knew he could do.

**************

He managed to squish himself into the warm space vacated by Madoka as she went off to get changed, tucking his legs underneath him and taking a deep breath. Once again, he tried to find his centre and calm his mind. His heart rate slowed and his breathing steadied but his mind was turmoil and after a few minutes he gasped in exasperation.

Madoka made her appearance and he tried one last time to find that sensual calm, but eventually he abandoned his meditation to follow her through to the make-shift 'training arena'. It was far from the grandeur of the Jedi temple but it would do. She was stunning of course, but it was training time and he just about successfully slipped into the familiar frame of mind. As he came to rest in front of her, he stood at attention and listened to each word carefully. Her abrupt attack was impressive, but Dac's heart sank as he realised that 'Vibro-blade' training wasn't going to be a straight up sword fight, he should have guessed.

He focused on her words despite the fact that his gaze lingered on her swinging behind, and a mental image of the flash of skin he'd glimpsed came unbidden to his mind. He shook his head to clear it moments before she turned.

He took the blade with confidence. Lightsabers are odd in that because the blade is made entirely of highly concentrated light, it has no weight. However, Jedi are trained with a number of offensive melee weapons so that they're able to use any balance. So the first thing Dac did upon gripping the hilt was test its weight, holding it in his palm till he found his own balance. He then looked at the target. While it was true that many Jedi chose to learn the throwing technique for their lightsaber, Is'aevi had never taught him it.

But how hard could it be?

His movements were graceful, his body twisting with swiftness from years of training. The blade left his hand and spun end over end toward the target, bouncing off the wall several feet from the intended goal… at least the blade had hit first, his technique had been good, it was just his aim. Dac glanced at Madoka expressionless, before using the force to summon the blade to his hand. It whipped through the air and he snatched it and threw it in one clean movement. It was completely the other side, bouncing off the wall with an ear-crunching clatter. Once again he summoned it to his hand, this time letting out a frustrated sigh.

"You better show me again," he said with a mutter.

 

[Apollo Wilde]

Silence sat between the two of them as he prepared each throw. And, despite how poor his aim was, she didn’t once let out so much as a chuckle watching him. Instead, her chin was in her hand, her dark eyes focused to hard points. Calculating, perhaps even cold, as she watched – the faint air of the rogue had drifted away from her, replaced with the consummate skill and distance of a professional.

Although, granted, she was no expert in hand to hand combat.

And it was difficult to fight off the barrage of questions that came through her mind. This was the first time she’d really seen a “Jedi” at work with anything besides a lightsaber, and the results were…shocking to say the least. Hm. She would have expected even a padawan to show much more…skill? Ability? Something along those lines. Granted, she knew she had to take a few things into consideration; he was nervous, likely, still mixed up from the events of yesterday. But wasn’t that the point of being able to draw on the Force? Or was this actually the norm for him? Or for padawans in general? They seemed as helpless as freshly hatched chicks, copying the first thing that they saw. Even in the looseness of his stance, she could see the shadow of Is’aevi.

As he summoned the vibro blade back to him, she stepped forward; placed her hand over his. She was mildly surprised to discover that her hand was smaller than his. She’d been so quick to infantilize him in her mind that in such close quarters, she found herself constantly on edge around him. It had been easy to knock him down to a wet behind the ears puppy, someone her junior in all things. But when confronted with his height, and now, his apparent…largeness…it was easy for her mind to start wandering. With the contact she had now, it was hard to keep her hand from wanting to wander from his wrist, up his forearm, across the hidden curve of his bicep.

Nice. You bring a sexless wonder into your ship and all you can think about is feeling him up. Real nice, Madoka.

Still, whatever she was thinking, she kept her air of professionalism. “Don’t get into the habit of that,” she said, maintaining her hand on his. “Draws attention. And the last time I checked, you’ve two perfectly good legs. Use them.” A gentle squeeze of his hand, and she let go, holding the vibro blade. “No one gets it the first go-round. Takes time. And like I said, it’s usually little more n’ a party trick. I just figured…”

What? That he could use it as a meditative practice? She somewhat did – it was more mechanical than practicing down at a blaster range, and it built muscle memory. The shot she made earlier was more of a reflex than an aimed shot. She should probably mention that.

She shook her head, fondling the handle of the blade. “It builds muscle memory,” she finally said, picking up that train of thought. “The shot I made earlier, I wasn’t aiming. I’m out of practice, true, but once y’ get th’ hang o’ it, it becomes just a thing you do. I’m not too worried about you getting into close quarter combat, but we can practice that, too. I guess what I’m trying to do,” and she ran her left hand through her hair, the right occupied with the blade as it was, “is trying to get you t’ learn how to protect y’self when you can’t be flashy with the Force. Y’gotta learn how to pass like the rest of us.”

Looking up at him, she tried to gauge his expression for anything close to disgust, but found herself focusing more on how his features were crafted. She hadn’t really gotten a good look at him over the last day and night (partially because she knew she was forcing herself to look away), and took the opportunity now to make that contact. Not just because he was a padawan, she’d tell herself. But because he was a Miraluka, and she’d never seen one this close. Her fingers started, slightly, with the urge to run her fingers across his face, across his visor, down to his lips…

Blast.

Why could she not stop thinking about that? Could it be that he was manipulating her into distraction? As quickly as the thought had come, she’d shaken it free – there was too much innocence in him, and it wasn’t Is’aevi’s style to do something like that anyway. Or at least it hadn’t been. Was she hard up or what? Sex wasn’t even a motivator for her most of the time. She could recognize an attractive being, but it hardly went past that. It was a good way to get herself killed, getting that kind of distracted. She’d seen it happen before. And she could scarcely admit to herself that there could just be something inexplicable about him that kept bringing her back to this attraction. Or maybe it was idle curiosity; to see where physicality would lead him. It was all so strange – the urge to protect, but that undercurrent of desire. The desire she had a hard time placing her finger on – there was some lust, yes, in the interest she had on what all was under his robes, but there was more of the urge of wanting him to explore her body with that same new-ness, with a loving curiosity.

Madoka. Get. It. Together. You haven’t even known this kid for two days. Stop it.


Outside of her thoughts, she dimly realized it’d been a few minutes that she’d been standing there, more or less staring at him, blade in hand.

“Right,” she said, inadvertently borrowing one of his expressions. “It’s less about using strength to begin with when it comes to aim,” her eyes lowered from his face, before trailing back up, embarrassed to have been caught just..standing there for long minutes. Turning her back to his chest, she gently pressed herself against his right side. His height made guiding the throw from behind impossible –she would have to guide him from in front. Pressing the handle of the vibro blade into his hand, she held onto his wrist, gently manipulating it up and down in a flopping motion. “Feel this looseness? That’s what you’re going to want…” She let go, albeit reluctantly, and stood next to his right side.

Her hand settled on his right shoulder, down through his elbow. “This is where you’re going to be drawing from,” and she touched his shoulder. “Keep it loose here. Let it flow.”

 

[Naphalm]

Why was her proximity so… intoxicating? Dac's resolve to focus on training wavered as she pressed a surprisingly delicate hand to his. He glanced down at her, allowing himself a 'look' so to speak, to hopefully settle his mind and allow himself to refocus. It didn't help, and the fact that she had not been impressed at his use of the Force only reinforced his need to find something that would. He didn't apologise though, he simply nodded and let her take the blade.

"I understand." He said when she paused, looking at him… what, expectantly? "It will take time that I know we don't have so I will try harder. Jedi are paragons and therefore stand out as beacons. But I must learn not to. It is… difficult."

But Madoka looked for the entire world like she hadn't heard him, staring at him or rather, through him. He would have asked her, if he thought there was any hope that she would give him a real answer. Instead they stood there somewhat awkwardly, giving Dac plenty of time to sweat at her closeness, her sweet aroma filling his senses, the curve of her lip that still burned on his own…

Her sudden snap made him jump as she shook herself out of whatever chain of thought had taken her so deep into her mind. But it only got worse as she pressed against him, the lines of her body suddenly so apparent that it was difficult to concentrate on what she was saying. As she pulled away, he nodded. It was simply another stance, another technique, and one that he swore he would master.

The blade clanged against the wall but it was at least a little closer to the target. He kept his expression neutral and raised his hand, but it faltered. He threw a glance to Madoka before walking to the wall, grabbing the blade and returning to his original position. He tried again, and again, each time the movement grew more familiar. The first time he hit the target he actually cheered, his frustration dispelling out of sheer relief. As Madoka said, it was a party trick, but it had become so much more, a symbol of everything they'd have to achieve to survive.

"Looks like I'm not so useless after all" he muttered, but a wily smile slipped across his lips. Of course, nothing short of a bullseye would be satisfactory, so he went back to work. He practised clearing his mind before each shot, not aiming, but sensing where the target was. It wasn't easy when for some reason; it kept wandering back to Madoka. Her watchful eyes were never far from him and he had to admit to himself that he actually enjoyed the attention.

It took several more attempts to hit his first bullseye. When the blade sunk into the centre of the target, he whooped at the top of his lungs and very nearly hugged Madoka. He pulled up short as he realised what he was about to do and simply stood there like a big lump. He laughed it off while his face returned to a now familiar colour of red, and he turned away to hide his embarrassment.

'By the Force just calm down' he mentally rebuked himself. For some reason, this woman made him feel like a bumbling fool and he couldn't understand it. Ok, yes, he'd always been a bit of a wannabee hot shot when it came to his training but he'd never felt so… clumsy. He used the time to retrieve the blade to compose himself, before turning back to Madoka.

"Let's try something else. I'll come back to this." He said, trying to muster a little confidence. "How about something more... hand to hand?" his voice was tinged with eagerness, as he hoped to move onto a subject he knew more of. He still had doubts that Madoka would find anything regarding typical Jedi training 'impressive', especially if she'd spent time with his Master, who he was pale comparison of. But still, he had to try and besides, the best way to get to know someone is sparring with them.

 

[Apollo Wilde]

Paragons, eh?

To who? For what purpose? In the Outer Rim, in the dirt of the space lanes, being a Jedi meant nothing. As much as she wanted to say something to correct him about the station of Jedi in the galaxy, she stopped herself. Perhaps seeing his earnestness was enough to allow her to be gentler towards him. It was endearing watching him try so hard, to hear the resolve in his voice.

And his perpetual blush was sweet, too.

Sweet? When was the last time she’d used “sweet” to describe anything other than food? It had to be some sort of strange Jedi aura that was causing her to be like this. To allow her to be nicer when in any other circumstance, she’d be harsh. It wasn’t that he was inspiring her to be a better person; hardly that at all. Was she flattered that every time they got close, he blushed? Or was she being silly – of course he’d blush. Not even a day ago she’d been his first kiss. And not even a chaste, timid first kiss – one where she’d felt the thrill of arousal from the soles of her feet to the ends of her hair. Incredible, for being that brief. Funny; it had been so quick, but with time away from the event, she found herself dwelling on it.

When he cheered, it broke her out of her train of thought. She’d put some distance between the two of them to allow him to practice freely without worrying about hitting her or being anywhere near the target. She stood to his far left, watching – although, really, if she was being honest, she was lost in own thoughts, caught between daydreaming and logic. In that short time, he’d adopted her stance. So his strength was more along the martial line. Nice to have, but not all that practical. But at least he could get to a point where he could disguise his original training, and that was imperative.

With a “thunk”, the vibro blade finally hit the target. Far from the bullseye, but a marked improvement on a skill that was hard to master. It wasn’t called a “party trick” for nothing. As he cheered, she couldn’t stop her smile. It was childish of him, she felt, but any victory, no matter how small, was still a victory. Seems like something that he desperately needed.

“No one said anything about you being ‘useless’, kid,” she replied, moving a bit closer. “I….I don’t always got the best way wit’ words.” Was this an apology? Probably as close as he was going to get from her. It was fumbling, unsure. And she wasn’t going to give herself excuses about what was happening, but maybe he did earn a bit more of an explanation. She could use one. Some sort of anchor. “It’s…just that I hadn’t heard from Is’aevi in years, ya gotta unnerstand. And he comes outta nowhere telling me to come get ya in the middle of a war zone, and y’know what really galls me?” From contrite, her voice had risen, approaching the rim of quiet anger. “He knew. He knew I’d come getcha, no matter what was goin’ on in my life otherwise. I dunno if I should be angrier at him or at myself. Because here you are, here we are…an’ I dunno what to do about any of this.”

Had to be something about him. Madoka wasn’t the most forthcoming of women, even in better circumstances. Not quite “need to know” insomuch as just aloof. There had to be something he was doing to her mind. Even as he was uncomfortable around him, there was something about that innocence that calmed her. And she knew she was being harsh to him when it was no fault of his own. He hadn’t asked to be a Jedi and put in that cult-like order. It was the luck of the draw – just like what brought them together.

“Anyway,” she added, clearing the air and hoping to hide her embarrassment, “You ain’t useless. We just gotta find some not Jedi stuff yer good at and start from there. I gotta see this through, otherwise that old wolf is gonna keep haunting my dreams,” bitterness tiptoed into her voice. It was clear that whatever had happened between her and his master was far from over, and at this point, potentially never to be resolved. “I-“ cut off by his victorious whoop, she started when he came her way. Was he about to hug her? When he stopped short, she felt relieved…and if she was honest, a little, only ever so much, annoyed that he hadn’t touched her.

“See, there ya go, kid,” her voice was too loud, to mask her discomfiture. “Keep at it, and you’ll be a pro in no time.” She clapped a friendly hand against his back. “Hand ta hand, eh? I ain’t gonna lie ta ya, kid, I ain’t so good at that sort of thing…And it don’t come up often. Blasters usually trump all...But,” and she put some space between them again, “maybe I can stand to learn somethin’ from ya.” Unbuckling her blaster holster from her waist, she set it aside. There was an air of near nudity to her now; so apart of her was that blaster. Her pants seemed to fit tighter, the shirt looser, the laces threatening to waft free and expose the curve of her breasts under the black vest.

She took a boxing stance – clearly, she was a novice at this. “Go easy on me."

 

[Naphalm]

It actually took him by surprise how… little she suddenly seemed standing before him. So far, he'd had the impression she was an all-round combat superstar but obviously there had to be areas she was better at then others. Now it was his turn to be the instructor and he revelled in the role. "You have a good stance," he noted sincerely. He slipped into his own preferred fighting stance, weight on the back leg yet perfectly balanced. He came forward and they started their dance.

Madoka was better than she gave herself credit for and they fell into a rhythm of dodges, blocks and strikes. At one point, Dac realised he was grinning, and he wasn't sure how long he'd been doing it. Training with his Master had always been a very sombre and serious affair but sparring with Madoka was… fun. She moved with a grace that was both enticing and distracting, and at one point he was so caught up in watching how her body shifted that he lost his concentration and missed a block that he should have easily made. Madoka walloped him right in the head with a mean right hook.

It momentarily stunned him as he staggered back, his jaw throbbing where she'd struck him. For a small figure she apparently could put a lot of power behind her punches, evident by the red welt that rapidly appeared. He rubbed it gingerly, but it had failed to knock the smile from his lips. "Nice one…" he groaned, and before she could ask, he continued, "Lucky shot, I got… distracted." He hoped that was sufficient as he really didn't want to explain how the sheen of sweat glistening on her skin where her top parted had drawn his gaze.

"Right… prepare yourself now." He said with determination as he renewed his efforts. He turned it up a notch and the pair of them spun and twisted, each looking for an opening, punching and kicking, knocking the blows aside with strong blocks or dodging entirely in attempts to pull the other off balance.

Dac also starts to try a second tactic, a distraction method of his own, but also a continuation of their conversation from earlier.

"I… appreciate what you've done…" he ducked under a vicious fist, coming up to one side and flicking out a kick, but it simply sailed through mid-air and he continued to spin, dancing back into a crouch to block the next strike. "…and what you continue to do for me… what Is'aevi did, he did because it was necessary. You didn't ask…" he had to dive back as Madoka had cut off his obvious exit, but he used the momentary break to re-circle and come back at her before they could each get their breath back. "…didn't ask for this responsibility, but you are clearly the most suited. You are a strong character… Madoka… strong and courageous and… you have… my gratitude." He meant it, but unfortunately the sentiment was punctuated with a lucky strike to her side. He took the opening his hit had created, the two bowling over as he brought her to the ground in a rough tackle. He came to rest on top of her in a loose pin.

"You see this task of saving me as something you do alone. But we are in this together, for better or worse." He said through harsh breath, looking down at her.

 

[Apollo Wilde]

Madoka knew that there was a very slim chance that she could take him in hand-to-hand combat. Not outside of a tilting of the universe on its axis. She’d long come to rely on her blaster and her vibro blade, and couldn’t remember the last time she had to throw a proper punch. Years, at least. She was so focused on actually being able to stand a chance against him that she didn’t hear his early compliments. And she’d surprised herself with what her body remembered. Somewhere, somehow, her body remembered those faint memories of working with Is’aevi.

From triumphant to terrible – there was such a short distance between each emotion! She’d originally been thrilled that she managed to actually land a hit, and then realized with some horror that she’d actually hit him much harder than she’d intended. She faltered, concern written across her features. Even when he reassured her that he was okay, her steps were much more timid. And distracted? What would he be distracted by?

Before she could have dwelled on that intriguing question, he was at her again. Her confidence shaken now, she would clumsily try to return his blows, spending more time trying to dodge and put distance between the two of them. The coup de grace was when he began to speak to her. All of her concentration gone, she easily fell to the blow to her side. Stunned from suddenly finding herself off of her feet, she’d only had the time to let out a small squeak when, mere moments later, she found herself landing heavily beneath him. With a soft chuckle, she closed her eyes and let her head thump against the cool floor, too tired to try and hold her head up.

“I dunno about all of that…but it was a fantastic distraction,” she finally said, letting her laughter slip away. He was light on top of her, and in the course of her fall, she’d fallen with her legs separated. On top of her, he lay comfortably between them, his hips atop hers. “And yeah, I guess we are.” She opened her eyes now, looking up at him. She’d never really realized how much unspoken communication she understood and responded to until the utter absence of it. Her reflection was faint in the silver of his visor, and she gave it a small smirk. “So,” she exhaled slowly, not breaking her “eye” contact, “Kid here is a hand to hand expert!” She laughed lightly again, realizing she had no idea what she was going to say next or where she was going with her thoughts. The longer he lay atop her, the more she realized that she enjoyed it….and not purely in a lustful manner, though tendrils of it stroked her stomach – the faint tingle in her labia was all too familiar, and all too intoxicating to ignore. No, him on top of her was comforting. Natural, in an odd sense. This close, she could smell his sweat, mingled with one of her more earthy body washes, and she started laughing again.

“Y’know what I just realized? I don’t have a single non-girly smelling shower gel in there for you to use. We’ll get you some when we’re on Zeltros….” Even beneath him, she was able to wiggle an arm free, running it through her loose hair. “I never really had much o’ a reason to have people stay onboard for any length of time.”

 

[Naphalm]

Dac opened his mouth but no words came out, his throat went dry and his mind blanked. It was the realisation of their less than 'innocent' position. He dared not move unless his body betray him in an indecent sort of way. It was the way she looked at him, met his eyes despite not having much of a point of reference. It was a small but touching gesture and not something people, even other Jedi, did very easily. And her laughter, it rippled through her body and lit up her face and Dac realised this was the first time he'd seen her genuinely amused.

The expression suited her, and once again he caught a tiny glimpse, a small breach in her mental guard that allowed him to see who she really was under all the barriers she put up. A million butterflies took flight in his stomach, and he realised that he wanted nothing more than to break those barriers down and get to know the real her. Whether she'd let him in was a different story.

He flushed at her compliment and finally found his voice, "I don't know about expert but Melee combat was my primary focus." He replied, before they both fell into silence once more. Dac didn't know where to go from here, it was an inappropriate position and yet he was reluctant to move and certainly she didn't seem to be in any hurry to push him off. His breathing eased as he caught his breath but his heart still raced, but he wasn't sure that that was to do with their exercise.

Her laugh was infectious, and for possibly the first time since meeting this woman, the tension Dac had been storing in the back of his mind flooded out in a carefree chuckle. Reluctantly he decided to roll off of her, coming to rest on his back beside her, staring up at the ceiling.

"Guess I'm going to have to smell of fruits for the next day or so." He said with a sigh. Then he really thought about that statement and realised just how alone Madoka really was, certainly the ship showed signs that it had definitely been set up for one for a while. He looked to his side at her, his brow furrowing as he tried to phrase the question he wanted to ask.

"So… there isn't anyone you… I mean, you don't… uh… entertain much?" he finished lamely. Suddenly his heart was in his throat and for some reason he was really hoping for a particular answer and he wasn't sure why. It should seem fairly obvious, but he knew at that moment that some part of him would be crushed if she said she had a husband and kids waiting for her on some planet.

'Stop it, it doesn't matter' he told himself, trying to calm his irrational thoughts. Why did it matter so much to him that she didn't have someone special in her life? It was a horrible hope and it shocked Dac with its intensity. It was just priorities, he reasoned. If she had someone else then she was less likely to stick around and help him. That must be it, and not the butterflies that threatened to boil from his belly.

 

[Apollo Wilde]

“S’fair – an expert compared to me, then, kiddo,” and she looked back at her reflection in his visor. Then, without much warning, she reached up, tucked a loose strand of hair of his back into his braid. It was a very quick gesture; her fingers didn’t linger on the flesh of his face or on the top of his head. She folded her arms behind her head under him, laughing herself when he chuckled. “So you DO laugh. Thas’ a good thing. Quickest way to start healing…”

There was an undeniable sense of loss when he moved from on top of her to her side. Loss, and a minor twinge of relief. She knew she wasn’t the type to jump the gun, but she also knew what an opportunity was and rarely missed the chance to take it. The real question was what kind of opportunity was this, really? And what did she hope to gain out of it? A very, very, small voice in her mind chided her; told her that humoring even remotely lustful thoughts towards a Jedi was wrong. And even moreso, a vulnerable one. She had to look out for him. He said it himself; they were in it together. And she couldn’t just go about exploring conflicting feelings that changed as quickly as the rotation on Ylesia. No way.

She’d roll to her side, propping her head up on her hand as she watched him. “Could be worse. Could smell like a bantha stable. Do you Jedi even pay attention to the stuff that you use on the day to day? Or is it just something that someone else picks out for you?” Her body language alone spoke volumes about her burgeoning comfort with him. As much as she may not have wanted to admit it, seeing him smile, hearing him laugh, did much to ease her nerves. She had hardly realized to the extreme extent she’d been on edge since she’d gotten the holo call, and now, she felt like a rope gently unwinding itself. There was still plenty to do, but seeing this face, this side of him, made her feel like it could actually be done. “Will this be the first time that you’ve actually gotten to pick whatever ya wanted?” Oh, man. Zeltros was going to be a sensory overload for the guy. That, she was looking forward to seeing.

At his next question, she had a grin like a Hutt. “ ‘You mean to take it that I don’t entertain much?’” Her mockery of his Coruscant accent was near flawless. Lightly elbowing him, she laughed. “No, I don’t. Don’t have too much room fer ‘entertaining’, as ya put it. Usually just me and th’ cargo from one end of the galaxy to the other. Even when sis was alive, we didn’t travel too much together.” It was the first time that she’d mentioned her sister with a positive note in her voice – and before she could drift into contemplation of her sister (which would inevitably lead to thoughts about Is’aevi),she smiled, the expression wistful. “So, it’s just me and you until ya figure out where it is ya wanna go out here. Zeltros is a good cover, but I don’t see ya wanting to live there. Although maybe you’ll take up with a tender young Zeltron and have 14 younglings. That’s a nice, even number, isn’t it?” Her eyes sparkled with good humor. Although she was teasing him, she didn’t entirely rule out the possibility of him falling hard for a Zeltron, especially if she hit him with one of her pheromone whammies. “14 younglings, and you run a fight school, training younglings to use their minds and bodies in combat. Seems like a perfect plan.”

 

[Naphalm]

No.

How could a single syllable sound so sweet? A concoction of feelings like relief, sympathy, confusion and a pinch of something else surged through Dac's mind like his head was in a blender. He had no right to be happy with the fact that she had no-one else and yet strangely, he was. Again he rationalised that it was that she had no other responsibilities but the tiny voice in the back of his mind said it was more than that, but then failed to divulge any further information.

The world came back into focus and he realised she was still talking, past that single word. His jaw fell in shock and if he had eyes, they'd be open wide. "N..no, no that's not a good plan", he said, his voice strained. He met her gaze and realised she was joking and suddenly he was laughing again. "By the Force, I thought you were serious for a moment." he let out a harsh breath and went back to staring at the ceiling.

"And the answer is yes, to some degree. I mean there are people whose job role is to make sure the Jedi temple is stocked with day to day items, but they're all very basic - unscented soaps and plain clothes. We're supposed to live with meagre possessions so we can better focus on our jobs, to safe guard the Republic. Guess it didn't really work out…" he trailed off lost in thought. No, he resolutely told himself, the Jedi didn't fail, they were betrayed. He shook his head slightly, that was a chain of thought he'd have to meditate on if he could ever calm himself enough to meditate properly.

"We're supposed to live without attachments. I mean, yes some Jedi Knights and Masters who travel tend to gather 'possessions', and they're allowed to as they don't form an attachment to the object. It's a very difficult lesson and not one that is widely achieved. We're not supposed to even… have feelings…" his voice caught in his throat and he coughed to cover it. As he was speaking, it had dawned on him that talking about a Jedi and their restraint when it came to feelings was probably not the best thing to talk to Madoka about, especially since she was just starting to relax with him.

"But I'm sure it would be ok to indulge once or twice…. with shower scents I mean…"

 

[Apollo Wilde]

“Aw, why not? I bet you’d make a great da.” She leaned over; lightly elbowed him. “I can’t think of a better way not to be detected as a Jedi. And I bet ya learned enough to keep goin’ even if you don’t have a teacher. Think o’ it this way - you have the chance, right now, right here, to re-write the rules of what it means to be connected ta th’ Force. Sounds like a helluva opportunity to me. Yer free.”

Maybe she had a twisted sense of what it meant to be a Jedi. More than likely she did - based on her prior interactions with them (and that was extremely limited), it didn’t seem like a lifestyle that left anything to chance. There was no real adventure there - just a lot of following in the footsteps that someone before you had set. And that was no way to live life. “Kid, there’s so much out there ya been missin’….It blows my mind. Didn’t ya ever get curious about how something smelled? Felt? Tasted?”

She wasn’t aware of the implications of her words, or the enticing view that her shirt was offering. Nestled against the material of her deep red shirt, the curves of her breasts pressed against the dark pink of her bra. None of her undergarments suggested froths of lace or seduction; she didn’t quite feel very comfortable even wearing her more “fun” things around him. Funny how that worked - she couldn’t recall feeling so self-conscious abroad her own ship, and, honestly, it didn’t feel like it was such a bad thing.

She lay there, chin still in her palm, waiting for his response. It seemed like as good as a time as any to take a break, and realistically, she was in no hurry to get back to training. It was just so enjoyable to have someone to talk to….and far from not having a personality, she was starting to see slips of who Dac actually was, and it was hard not to warm up to him. He seemed more natural himself now, not so much parroting what someone else before him had told him to do.

 

[Naphalm]

He knew she was pushing him but he still sat up, shaking his head. "No." he said, a bit more forcibly than he really meant it. "I… can't be a Father, and I can't just re-write thirty odd thousand years of Jedi traditions. The rules are there for a reason, to stop us falling…" he trailed off, running a hand through his hair and finding it slick and sweaty from their workout. He sighed, it was of course his biggest worry. It was every Padawan's biggest worry, falling to the Dark Side of the Force, giving into temptation and turning evil. It was the core of the Jedi teaching, he'd heard parables about fallen Jedi's and the Sith since he could remember.

"I'm sorry…" he mumbled, "… you're right, I am curious. Have I ever thought about my family, or having my own family? Of course I have. But I'm a…" Jedi? Was he really? Did the Jedi even exist anymore? As it mulled over in his mind, he slowly understood what she was saying, it boiled down to having to change to fit in. The whole point of the training exercise had been to learn to hide his Jedi heritage. His outlook would have to change as well. He couldn't just disregard everything before it, but he would have to adapt it to survive.

He laid back down, turning his head to look at Madoka and a gentle smile returned to his lips. "I do know what you're saying, even if I dislike what you're suggesting. But I don't think you realise how dangerous it is for a Jedi to have a family, to … have feelings for somebody." Why did he voice crack when he said that? "What if I went Dark… I wouldn't want to hurt… anyone." Speaking his fear out loud made it seem even more of a possibility, like saying it would invoke some unspeakable evil and the shadows would rise up with malicious intent.

He shook his head again, as if to ward off the Dark thoughts. "Besides, I'm a Jedi Padawan with no worldly experience remember. Who is going to find that attractive?" he chuckled lightly.

 

[Apollo Wilde]

“No one’s askin’ ya to carry on the old Jedi ways.” Maybe she was pressing her luck. Probably she was. But she couldn’t let this one go. She’d seen the “Jedi tradition” destroy more than it protected, and she would refuse to have the same happen to him while he was on her “watch.” “Look, I know this is probably th’ last thing that ya wanna hear, but ya got yer own brain in yer
head, don’tcha? Now’s the time to think for yourself. Ya take what’s good from what ya learned, and realize that there’s a whole galaxy of sensation and experience for ya to indulge in. Ya never know what life is gonna throw yer way. You may end up with a brat or two before it’s all over.”

As he laid down to face her, she shifted, just a little, to get more comfortable. By now, her heart rate had long since slowed to normal, and there was really no reason to keep lying on the floor like this. There was a sinking sensation that if she moved, if she bothered to get up, this little space of comfort that they’d managed to carve out would vanish. And more than she wanted to admit, she didn’t want it to go away so quickly. Dac was scores easier to talk to - to ask probing questions than Is’aevi, and then her sister, had been. To them, to question was to doubt. Dac, though, seemed at least more open to the idea.

“So maybe it’s not a family. Why does attachment lead to the Dark Side, anyway? From my unnerstandin’, the Sith don’t have families either. So obviously, not having any sort of attachment might make ya more prone to goin’ over to the Dark Side, it seems. What about friends? Can Jedi have friends? And if that was the case, why did old Wolf-Man take me and m’sister under his wing?” She’d roll over to her stomach now, folding her arms under her head. Not that she expected him to have the answers to any of the questions she was rapidly slinging at him - it was the asking alone that made the exercise enjoyable. “People do amazin’ things fer love every day. Seems a shame to deny getting to feel that at least once.”

She lifted her legs, crossing them daintily at the ankle as she looked over at him, before laughing a little at his last statement. "Oh, I dunno. There's somethin' a little charmin' about a guy that don't know his way around anything. But it depends on how eager he is to learn. Besides, by the time I'm done with ya', you'll be able to work out there and function with the best of 'em. I hope."

 

[Naphalm]

"… by the time I'm done with ya…" the words sent shivers down his spine at subtle connotations of that statement. He took a deep breath and decided to ignore the implication that he would end up with children. She was effectively telling him to leave the Order, that's what it boiled down to. It was not something he was prepared to do, at least while he was unsure of what was really happening out in the galaxy. There may be other survivors and they would need his help, the Republic would need his help… but then he'd be no good to them if he was dead. Which is where Madoka, and these new 'survival' techniques came in.

His head spun as he went round and round in circles, so he focused on the one question he thought he could shed some light on. He lifted himself up and sat cross legged, ushering her up to do the same. When she, albeit reluctantly, complied, he scooted close so their knees were just about brushing. He took a long slow breath and smiled softly as he instructed, just as he had been.

"Close your eyes and take a deep breath. Focus on your breathing, feel the air rushing into your lungs and let it slowly out." He wondered if Is'aevi had ever tried to teach her meditation techniques or tested their connection to the Force. "Every living being has some connection to the Force, even you, whether you believe in it or not. The Force fills us, is a part of us and connects us to every other living creature." He took another long deep breath, his head filling with her scent, a sweet mixture of fruity wash and sweat that wasn't at all unpleasant.

"There are those of us who have a stronger connection, hence the Jedi. But what you see as dated traditions and restrictive lessons is just the Jedi building on foundations of learning throughout the generations. That is because we know that for there to be pure light, there has to be the opposite, and so the Dark Side exists. We are taught to be constantly aware of its danger, and it is our emotions that will inevitably lead us onto the path. If a Jedi forms an attachment, he creates a bond that can be broken. The loss of that bond can cause Anger and Pain."

He smiled softly to himself, remembering the first times he had heard these lessons and thinking it couldn't happen to him. But was he not already in pain?

"Master Is'aevi… I can't explain what he did. Just because we learn these lessons does not always mean we can control them any more than anyone else." His mouth suddenly went dry and he couldn't help but open his awareness and probe at Madoka, not that he could read her, her strong will prevented him.

"Keep your eyes closed Madoka, but try to feel the ship around you. Even your vessel has a life of its own, the hum of the engine, and the electricity in the cables, the Force is present here. Then here I am… you know I'm before you but focus your mind, sense my life, my heart…

 

[Apollo Wilde]

There was no insult implied in her voice; only a sense of disbelief and wonder. Is’aevi, to her, back then, wasn’t the master that Dac knew. And it showed in both of their approaches to the Force and what it meant in the life of a Jedi, no, further than that, what it even meant to be a Jedi. More than once she’d itched to tell him about his master, about what she remembered, but at the time, she knew it was coming from a place of spite – and the last thing that either one of them needed was to be at each other’s throats.

She had complied when he motioned for her to sit up, although she found that lying beside him was more comfortable – perhaps more conductive for conversation. He certainly hadn’t seemed to mind. Encouraged by their knees touching, she moved closer, solidifying the contact between the two of them. At his request, she raised an eyebrow, but did as he asked. She wasn’t an entire stranger to meditation; she just…did it in a different way. The knife throwing was her form of meditation – this sitting still was enough to drive her insane.

“I never said anythin’ about not belivin’ in the Force,” and her tone sounded, just a little, wounded. “It’s th’ teachins th’ I don’t too particularly agree with. Sucks the personality out of people.” The last comment was a little more harsh than she had intended, but sitting here, with his gentle attempts to pull her into a meditative state had rubbed raw an old wound. She’d seen her older sister turn into a complete stranger in the span of a few brief months. That was something that she didn’t expect him to understand. It wasn’t so much as the physical loss of someone that you were close to, but the emotional loss – those long periods of wondering if she had done something wrong to make her sister hate her. The years of never knowing until those last moments, and a hatred of the system that had changed someone she loved so.

“As long as you’re dealin’ with sentient beings, there ain’t no such thing as ‘pure light’ and ‘pure dark’,” she snarled, and instantly felt contrite. That had come out much harsher than she had intended. “There isn’t. To warp people into nothing but ideals isn’t a way to live life.” She opened her eyes now, reached out, put a tentative hand on his knee. “There’s will power to avoid temptations and th’ like, but no such thing as anything bein’ pure. We’re all gray. Some darker than others, some lighter, but all gray.” She moved closer now, the warmth of her breath on his face. Her hand trailed from his knee down his leg, up his side. Putting both hands on his cheeks, she kept his focus on hers. “I can feel you just fine like this,” and her voice was a mere whisper now, tender, “but even better like this,” and she delicately pressed her lips to his.

It was a far cry from the nearly violent, grappling kiss she’d given him outside of the Golden Hill. Though it was brief, “chaste” would not quite be a fair description of it. Though she had intended it to be, through his connection with the Force, he was sure to have felt some of the curious desire she felt towards him, the undercurrent pique of interest. “You know,” she continued, her lips still close to his, so close that he could feel the formation of her words through her breath, “I’m sure there are amazin’ things about bein’ able to use the Force. I never said that there weren’t. But there are equally amazin’ things to be experienced without it, is all I’m sayin’. And you don’t have the luxury of bein’ holier than thou anymore. You gotta be as gray as the rest of us.”

If she felt like she’d overstepped her bounds, she didn’t say anything or allude to it as she shifted, attempting to make her way into standing up. From the cockpit, a series of chimes started. “I’d say that’s enough of this for now…"

 

[Naphalm]

Daciude barely kept from visibly wincing at the abrasive tone. Maybe it had been in the way he'd phrased it, or maybe it was the subject in general he couldn't tell, but Madoka had not taken to his meditative instructions at all. The pain and grief he glimpsed in her eyes told a whole story about why this hadn't been a great idea and Dac felt the loss of the moment as it slipped between his fingers. He wasn't even sure what it was that he'd lost, or what he had hoped to gain.

Perhaps he thought that if Madoka had felt something, the enormity of the Force, then perhaps he could convey the danger. But now he could see that it was more than just mis-understanding of the Force, but a twisted hatred of the Jedi legacy from personal experience.

'Master Is'aevi… what have you done??'

When she reached out to touch him, he reflexively drew back. Not that he thought she would strike him but… what was that he was feeling, fear that he'd upset her? He suddenly felt way out of his depth, not only did he have to deal with his own conflicting emotions but he had no idea where to start to understand somebody else's.

But she surprised him by capturing his face, her touch warm and gentle that sent tingles down Dac's spine. His eyes held barely contained panic as she approached, his body frozen in a state of shock as those warm, enticing lips descended onto his own. That curious guard of hers dropped like a stone at the same time and her emotions radiated through him, ripples in the Force like a brick thrown into a pond. His body reacted before his mind did, still unable to comprehend what he was feeling, his arms came up to hold her as he pressed his lips back, just ever so slightly.

They parted by less than an inch, and she lingered. His hands, pressing so lightly against her sides, shook uncontrollably, her whispers slipped into his consciousness like silk, tempting, seductive. Even as she pulled away, it was as if she didn't want to leave and all it would take was for him to squeeze, to hold her and she would be his.

But he didn't, he couldn't. As she stood, he fell back onto one hand, the other pressing against his lips as if he could still feel hers. His body was afire and he knew then that it wasn't just simple lust for this Woman. It was a need, a need so desperate for him to give in. He knew she felt the same, or at least, had the same burning hunger inside her as he felt inside of himself.

If it had just been hormonal, a youthful unsatisfied longing, then he could have dismissed it. It would have only been like the time he'd accidentally trapped himself in the girl's quarters and was too embarrassed to shout for help and so had to watch the girl's change… He knew that feeling all too well. No, this was something altogether different, he just didn't know what.

So he let her stand up, and the chiming of the ship brought both a welcome and annoying distraction. He didn't know what to say, or do. He just… let her leave in silence.

*******

When he was alone, he slowly removed his visor and rubbed his eye-sockets. His head hurt, and his normal steady hands continued to shake. He took a long deep breath and sat back into the meditative position once more.

"Master…" he muttered, "what do I do… please…"

But there was no reply. Eventually, he picked himself up again, his normal techniques clearly not showing any signs of working. He retrieved the blade from where he'd left it resting on one of the crates. He floated it above his hand, letting it spin idly as he moved to the centre of the room. With a flick of his wrist, the floating blade shot out of the air and sunk into the wall in a perfect bullseye. Of course it was cheating, but it made him feel a little better.

Once again, he went to call it back to him with the Force, but he was brought up short. Casually, he walked to the wall and pulled it out by hand. He began his practise then in earnest, falling into the rhythm that Madoka had taught him… and tried to find his centre.

 

[Apollo Wilde]

She didn’t walk as so much as pace to the cock pit. She’d take a few steps, then stop, look behind her, clench her fists, then look in front of her to keep walking. Once, twice, three times – she had to stop herself from going back to the training room. What was that? Her sister had been the Force-sensitive one; not her. She should go back; apologize for invading his personal space yet again. Was she taking advantage of someone that had recently gone through an immense trauma? That didn’t seem quite right – there was some sort of electricity between the two of them. That hardly made any sense. She barely knew him.

Was she just teasing him? She finally stopped in the hallway, leaning against one of the walls. Tilting her head back, she closed her eyes and let out a long breath. She had to get it together. What had possessed her to kiss him, anyway? And his reaction – the poor thing was shaking. Ice churned in her stomach. Great. Just great. She’d made things that much worse by acting impulsively. She should have known from the beginning that it was a terrible idea; there was nothing “impulsive” about Jedi. Everything was calculated. And not once, but twice, had she thrown additional turmoil into his world.

Thumping her head audibly against the wall, she groaned. “I’m an idiot,” she mumbled, before peeling herself off of the wall and down towards the cock pit. Leaning over the control panel, she studied the flickering lights. They were still another 24 standard hours away from Zeltros – that was….both good and bad. Good in the sense that they would soon be planet side – bad because that was more completely isolated time with him. That, she wasn’t so sure how to handle. Practically, she could sleep in the chair in the tiny little dining room; she’d done it before, even before she’d taken him on board. And it probably would be more comfortable for him in the long run.

Sinking heavily into her seat, she leaned back, slowly swiveling back and forth in her chair. By the sound of the alert, she knew it wasn’t The Alto letting her know that they were about to land, but an incoming message. That was one of the last things she needed right now. So much had happened in just a day – no, two days, at this point. The night on Coruscant, and now this day. That made two. Didn’t it? She could barely think straight; still lingering on that kiss, on how his arms still went around her though he trembled. Surely that meant something, though, right? That he even bothered going through the motions…She was unable to read him, much, as she was unaware, he was able to read her. It was probably just a reflex. But when would he have had the time to develop such a reflex? It was entirely too much to comprehend. Time for a distraction.

Leaning forward, she flipped a switch on the console. A flickering holo of a Zeltron man came on. He appeared to be tall, and was dressed stylishly, although the colors that he wore were absolutely garish, even through the blue filter of the holo call.

“Hullo there, sweeting! I didn’t think you were going to answer. I happened to be checking through some channels and saw that you were abruptly on your way here. What happened to your vacation? Why didn’t you let me know that you’d be coming by?”

Madoka could only manage a small smile. “Abrupt change of plans. Are you spying on me again?”

“Not ‘spying’, keeping an eye on someone I have an intimate interest in.” The charm seeped through the image, and all she could do was lean further back, shaking her head.

“Cut the flattery. What do you want, Fuyu?”

The smile on his face didn’t fade. “I was merely checking in on a dear friend of mine – and I was curious as to why she’d be in this corner of the galaxy.”

“I already told you – I had a change of plans.” Her tone was a bit sharper now, warning him not to probe. “I don’t know where you get off assuming that because of that brief fling that you can just drop in whenever you want.”

“I wouldn’t take such things for granted. I was, actually, just checking in on a dear friend of mine. Are you bringing anything with you?” His brows raised, curious.

“Nothing but all the shopping I did – but I’m glad you asked. I’m going to need a more stable gig for the foreseeable future….I can still do the occasional run, but I’m going to need to lay low for a while.”

The playful expression on the Zeltron’s face transformed into something close to raw concern and worry, and then back to the playful expression. It was clear now that the expression was a mask; carefully cultivated. “You didn’t come back expecting, did you?” His voice was light enough, untroubled – save for the creep of that hidden concern.

She laughed, the sound alarmingly loud in the quiet space. “Something along those lines. Do some digging for me, please? I’ll owe you one.”

“I’ll see what I can do. And I’ll take the price out of your flesh,” he said, and with a parting smirk, ended the connection.

Well, that was…one thing taken care of. Perhaps from the frying pan and into the fire; time would tell. She stood now, stretching. At least the conversation was enough to make her refocus on what was actually happening – and what she really needed to do. Walking out of the cock pit, she called down, “Hey, Dac? Can I talk ta’ ya for a minute?”

 

[Naphalm]

Swing… hit. Swing… hit. Dac had to admit there was something therapeutic and calming about completing a repetitive action and making it a reflex. In the space of five short minutes, he was already feeling calmer. Still far from where he should be, but at least his body was behaving itself again. He was just retrieving the blade from the wall when Madoka's voice echoed down the corridor making him freeze, his hand hovering an inch from the handle.

He tried to analyse the voice, it wasn't angry or upset but then that didn't mean anything. His heart thumped in his chest and yet he found himself smiling. He knew why of course, even though it had been only moments since they'd parted, he'd wanted to seek her out immediately. It had only been his fear that had kept him in the training room. He left the blade in the wall and scooped up his visor, putting it back into place with a clunk.

He took a deep breath and stepped from the room in the search for Madoka, not that he had to travel very far. The smile brushed his lips as he spotted her. "… Hey uh… are we close?" indicating the cockpit behind her and questioning the noise that had pulled her away from the previously 'dangerous' situation.

 

[Apollo Wilde]

She’d met him in the hallway – and, leaning against the wall again, she did her best not to seem as embarrassed as she felt. His smile, though faint, was enough to set her a little at ease. What she was about to do wasn’t easy. “Oh, yeah,” her voice was distracted. “About 24 standard hours. Not too far,” and a little confidence crept back into her tone. “A contact of mine from the planet was hailing us – he wasn’t expecting me in the area,” and she’d leave it at that. There wasn’t too much more to the conversation that she felt that he needed to know, or, truthfully, that she was too sure of herself. Fuyu had proven himself trustworthy in the past, but these things tended to change as time went on.

“I, uh…” She ran a hand through her hair, and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I shouldnta kissed ya like that. And I’m sorry fer the first time, too. First time had a better excuse, though – it was all I could think ta’ do to make sure those troopers didn’t notice ya’. And I don’t mean you no harm about the Jedi thing; I can’t expect you to see things th’ way I do, and I’ve been pushin’ ya a little hard. Thas’ all I really wanted to say,” she finished, letting out a long sigh. It felt good to get it off of her chest – even with the current between them.

To her, it felt as if a rancor was in the room – massive, slavering, and capable of ripping the two of them to shreds. It was heavier now – she couldn’t deny that she wanted him to cross that hall and just…let go. To hold her, to kiss her, to take her…let all of that frustration, the desire, break through and take them both away. And as her thoughts ranged to the more…physical side of her attraction, she was aware that she’d gone quiet, and now it was her turn to blush bright red. It was surprising on her, and most becoming.

She cleared her throat, hoping that it would clear her head. No such luck. “So, um, I should tell ya a little about Zeltros….” He might as well hear more about what he was going to find himself into. “It’s a pleasure planet – people go there to indulge in hedonism – ain’t gonna lie, there are parts that ain’t pretty at all. But we should be able to avoid those parts. The idea is just to lay low for a bit, let all of this insanity die off and then figure out where ya wanna go. Could be a few months, could be a year. I dunno – it’s up to you and where ya wanna go and what ya wanna do. Zeltrons have th’ ability to use their pheromones to make people feel good – they’re super empathetic. If you find an honest one, they will be your friend for life. They make very strong emotional bonds…” She trailed off, thinking, briefly, about her dealings with Fuyu.

“O’course, these are all very broad statements – just ta give you an idea.” She ran her hand through her hair again, nervous. The more she talked about it, the more she felt that she was doing him another disservice. “It’s gonna be hard on ya, I know. But this was th’ only place I could think of that we could go where no one would be lookin’ for ya straight off. To buy us some time.” She had been so close that moment to telling him that she had no idea what she was doing; that she had no idea what to do next, but stopped herself. She had to be strong. And she had to come up with a plan. She’d been in worse spots, right?

Glancing up at him, she found herself having to look away just as quickly. The longer she looked at his face, his lips, she wanted to just…take him, not give him a choice in the matter. Her thoughts kept swinging so wildly back and forth, it sent her head in a spin. Maybe it was just…whatever it was between them, maybe she kept returning to the physical because it seemed to be the quickest way for her to tell him how she was beginning to feel without words getting in the way.

 

[Naphalm]

"No…" he said a bit too quickly, and then instantly flushed. "I uh, don't apologise, please." He decided to skip over which part he was really asking her not to be sorry about, as he wasn't entirely sure himself. "Everyone is entitled to their opinion, and I know… I mean I get what it is that you were saying. I'm sorry too, I shouldn't have asked you to try the whole force thing, that wasn't my…" he trailed off, conscious that he was rambling but also aware that her eyes had glazed again and she was staring at him just like before.

Then she did the most unexpected and beautiful thing and her face flared with redness. Dac was painfully aware of how much he'd been doing it but hadn't thought Madoka of the sort. He smiled again, not a mocking smile but one of warmth. He nodded as she changed the subject. Though as he listened, the curl of his lips dropped into a serious expression as she explained the nature of their destination. He could see why she was nervous and he forced himself to relax a little.

"Madoka…" he held up a hand to get her attention as she seemed to be avoiding his eye contact. He resisted the urge to go to her, for some reason he really wanted to cup her fact in his palm and brush the loose strands of hair from her face. "Look, I trust you, ok? You brought me this far, you got me off world safely and you've already begun to help me understand what it is that I have do to survive. We can plan the long term later, it's more important for us to get to ground. I … I'm sure I'll manage, but… how about later we go through what Zeltrons' are really like?" he grinned then, but more for the opportunity to study another culture. He'd always been curious about the way in which different races built their social structures and their interactions, and a whole race that has evolved for the pursuit of pleasure was unprecedented.

"But first… I'm starving, you got anything to eat?" he asked with a grin, and as if to punctuate his point, his belly gave a low rumble.

 

[Apollo Wilde]

Relief splashed across her face, bleeding into her smile. Suddenly self-conscious, she looked down, then back to him, trying to compose herself. Able to slip back into the tough-as-nails-smuggler, her smile twisted a bit on the right side, turning into a knowing smirk. “Thanks f’ the vote of confidence. I have my problems with Is’aevi, and you had nothin’ to do with that. So I can’t hold that against ya. It’s been…” She ran a hand through her hair – surely, with his powers of observation, he’d noticed that this was a nervous tick for her. Whenever she wasn’t sure, was frustrated, hell, anything but certain, she’d run her hand through her hair. “It’s been an adjustment. And I ain’t so good at all this teachin’ stuff. So you’re going to have to tell me when I’m goin’ too fast, if you need me to repeat somethin’, or work with you closer on somethin’.”

A comfortable quiet settled between them, before he asked to eat, punctuated by the growl of his stomach. Grinning, she shook her head. “I think I can arrange that. And it’s another learning opportunity. Women love a man that can cook,” she said, giving him a playful wink. Tossing her head towards the small kitchen, she added, “Follow me. We’ll start simple – boiling water.”

+++++++

With the two of them standing side by side, the kitchen was even more cramped. At every turn, she’d either bump into him or he’d bump into her. “So, I’m gonna start by sayin’ that I, by no means, am a gourmet. So if the food’s gross, you’ve been warned.” It was said easily – she was aware of her culinary limitations. The life she lived didn’t allow much for relaxing and enjoying a five-star, multi-course meal. Like everything else about her, there was a simple practicality behind it. If she had time, meals were prepared with enough care to keep her nutrient levels up, if she didn’t, it was horrible planet-side takeaway or instant anything. “We’ll start simple – boiling water, right? So, if ya got boiling water, ya can make a few things, but we’ll just stick to noodles.”

She opened a cabinet above the small stove, revealing a cupboard that was nearly bare. She winced; that was terrible. She usually never ran this low on supplies; but then again, she had someone else that she was boarding. She’d have to stock up with a vengeance once they were on Zeltros. “Of course, ya can stop me if you DO actually know how to cook?”

 

[Naphalm]

Tiny tingles went up Dac's spine like creeping insects. At the flash of the wink and her playful smile, he nearly went weak at the knees. He shook his head as she turned away, unsure of where this bumbling fool had materialised from. Following her, he found his eyes once more drawn to the sway of her shapely hips, briefly wondering what it would be like to give it a small squeeze… He shook his head again, trying to control himself. Just because people couldn't see where he was looking did not make it right for him to stare like a horny adolescent! He resolved to keep his gaze at no lower than eye level.

They entered the Kitchen and together they stood. Suddenly, Dac was much more aware of each bump and brush, especially as Madoka moved round to a cupboard and he could feel her shapely body press against him as she slipped past. Already the vow he'd made in the corridor felt heavy around his neck. He stood beside her at the stove, and put his training head on.

"Not really… I mean there's a certain amount of Survival training in the sense of 'how to find a shelter' and 'how to find clean water' but… to be honest I was never very good at it. I was meant to go into it in more depth with Master Is'aevi but we didn't get round to it. He said that my other studies were more important."

He looked down at the pan of water she'd placed on the stove. "Of course I could probably work out how to boil water but that's about it." He gave a kind of half shrug. "I'm a quick study in most things but I guess I just never cared about cooking all that much. But for you, I'll try my best." He gave her a cheesy grin as he chuckled "We've got lots of time together so I'm sure you can pass on all your culinary tips."

 

[Apollo Wilde]

“That old flea bag. Of course he told you that; he could barely cook himself.” She turned to face him - although with as small as the kitchen was, she’d end up bumping her nose into his chest. Her wild curls dusted his nose, and she bumped back into the stove, trying to give them a little distance. She laughed, albeit nervously.

“Sorry….small space, right?” Slowly, she turned to put her back against him again, trying to ignore how well their bodies seemed to line up. “Anyway, that makes sense. And I’m sure it comes in handy. Except now, ya gotta learn how to actually feed yerself. Eatin’ out gets expensive, and we haven’t figured out what kinda trade you’d be good at.” Kneeling, she went to retrieve a pot from a small storage space beneath the stove. The action would cause her to back her rear directly into his crotch. Flushing, she quickly stood up, her head slamming into the open cabinet door.

Swearing a blue streak, she grasped the pan with her left hand and quickly clapped her right hand to her scalp. Wincing, she slowly withdrew her hand, checking it for blood. The wound smarted, but at least she hadn’t broken the skin. She put her hand back over her head - silly, she knew, as it wouldn’t actually ease the healing process, but it at least made her feel a little better.

And you're supposed to be teaching him how to live! You can barely take care of yourself!

Trying to laugh off her embarrassment, she set the pot down on the stove, still hissing softly at her smarting head. "I've never had ta teach someone to cook in this tiny little kitchen. I'm just going about this all kinds of cattywampus," and she sighed. "Thanks fer dealin' with me, kid. I swear, you need a load of spice moved, I'm your woman, but ya give me a Padawan and I'm greener n' a Hutt's backside."

 

[Naphalm]

Dac chuckled to himself as he thought back on his Master's rough comments about 'survival training'. But he wasn't so absorbed in his thoughts that he failed to miss how despite being harsh and bitter about him, every so often her voice was tinged with affection towards Is'aevi. Not for the first time he found himself pitying Madoka, as she had clearly loved the man like a Father. Had he even returned those feelings? Could he…?

She turned and there was no-where to go, so once more they collided. That sweet, fruity smell filled his head as he inhaled her soft curls. He almost stumbled back as he tried to give her space but only ended up bumping a work surface and knocking some of its contents on the floor.

"Yeah, sorry…" He said as he shuffled back to the stove, standing awkwardly as she pressed against him. "I can see the logic in that. It's a fundamental skill, and everyone should... learn…" he trailed off, his voice strained as she ground against him like some sleazy dancer. Of course it was unintentional, and he jumped as much as she did. The whack of her head seemed to echo around the room, followed by a long streak of words Dac genuinely didn't understand but got the general jist of. He refrained from asking the 'are you ok' question as he was sure he would get shouted at.

There was a terrifying moment of awkward silence and then Madoka broke the ice, making Dac chuckle. "Oh… have you seen many Hutt's backsides?" he asked in his innocent tone, yet the grin on his face was sly. "If I may…" he said, gesturing to her head. He didn't really give her much chance to respond as he nudged her hand aside and placed his palm on her head. "I cannot heal you." He whispered, trying to ignore the urge to caress the skin beneath his hand. "Instead, I can encourage the natural healing process inside you to work a little faster."

He closed his eyes and drew in his breath. For any kind of serious injury, even scrapes and cuts, it would take time and meditation for any novice. But for minor bumps and bruises such as Madoka's head bump, he could dull the pain with a few moments of calm… Of course, it'd be easier if he'd been able to find his calm in the last day or so. Instead, the pair of them stood uncomfortably with Dac's hand pressed to the side of her head as the seconds ticked by. Then it happened, his palm grew warm for a few moments and the pain lessened if only slightly.

Dac opened his eyes and grimaced. "I uh… usually I'm better at it than that…" he muttered, taking his hand away, letting it drop down by his side. "How does it feel though?"

 

[Apollo Wilde]

“Once is more than enough, trust me on this one-”

Whatever else she was going to say died on her tongue at the touch of his hand. Her eyes slowly closed, and she could focus on little else but the feel of his hand against the side of her head, the heat of his fingers through her fly away hair. And, as quickly as the moment started, it passed. At his abrupt withdrawal, she blinked rapidly, before laughing a little sheepishly. Slowly, the chuckle gave way to a comfortable, if not heavy, silence between the two of them, her standing in front of him, her head tilted downwards, focused on her boots.

“It’s…uh….better-ish?” She’d look up at him now, with a small smile. “My sister was much more of a healer than a fighter. The way I figured it, Jedi always had one area of expertise. Seems like yours is combat?”

She scooted to his left, sidling past him in order to put some space between the two of them. No more awkward mishaps with her, thank you very much. “So…” She pushed a stray curl behind her ear, looking at him. “To avoid any more bodily injury, why don’t I jus’ show you and the next meal, you make yourself for the two of us.” She gave him a gentle smile over her shoulder, as she began to fill the pot with tepid water.

Setting it down on the top of the stove, she began the process of walking him through a very basic dish of seasoned noodle soup - something she’d grown to love from the street vendors of Corellia. Despite her rough edges and her apparent lack of patience, she walked him through every step (no matter how minute it may have seemed) of making the dish, from slicing the greens to simmering the thinly sliced nuna that would go into it. She’d explain the variations of the dish, and how, for all of its basic simplicity, it could be made incredibly complex depending on the tastes of who was preparing the dish. About 45 minutes later, she set down two steaming bowls of noodle soup on the small table. One of them would have to sit on the floor in order for them to sit across from each other, but she didn’t seem to mind.

One more trip raiding the cabinets and the small refrigeration unit, she produced a few more garnishes for the bowl - dried Chadian seaweed, spicy pickled Kashyyyk tree ginger, dried fish flakes from Kamino. “Again, I’m not much of a gourmet, but I can at least make a good bowl of Corellian street noodles. I grew up on this stuff. I had the biggest crush on the vendor’s son growing up.” Her tone was nostalgic as she took a long, slurping sip of her noodles. “He was this Keshiri boy. He had the most beautiful violet skin. Was a little bastard, though. Was always giving me and Yogensha hell. What about you? What was life like growing up in the Jedi order?”

 

[Naphalm]

He shrugged a little and smiled softly, a comfortable gesture as he fiddled with his fingers. "It's something I still have to practice. It uh… doesn't help that I haven't been able to meditate properly since…" he stopped, clearly not wanting to change the subject back to something that would ruin the atmosphere. "Anyway, I'm all yours…" he said sincerely, looking attentive to what she was about to demonstrate.

It was true what Dac had said about being a quick study. He listened and watched and only occasionally was he distracted by things like the way Madoka's lips rested when she was concentrating or the gentle deftness of her hand as she sliced the veg… She was very detailed, but Dac still found little things to question, mostly questions like 'what if I put too much of this in?' or 'Is this part of the nuna edible?' He found himself smiling through most of it, actually enjoying himself as the pair slipped easy, idle conversation between instructing.

As the food was placed on the table, Dac was quick to kneel on the floor, allowing Madoka to have the seat. It was, of course, the gentlemanly thing to do. He watched with fascination as she produced all these exotic spices from far across the Galaxy, wondering if she'd attained these personally on each visit or whether there was some vendor who just sold them all. He was equally captivated by her reminiscing, even if for some reason there was a twang of jealousy in his stomach. He pushed it to one side as she asked about his own upbringing. He sipped at the soup, obviously delicious, and spoke between mouthfuls.

"As I said before, I have no memory of my real family. All I know is that both parents were advocates of the Jedi Order and gave me up when I was still a baby. Being raised by what is essentially a school is… hard. Every time you cry or laugh or play, it is always another lesson. When I was old enough, I entered what is essentially a Jedi Academy and taught basics of everything from political strategy, galactic law, to science and languages. We were placed into 'clans', where we trained and lived together. These people became my Brothers and Sisters, but I wouldn't exactly say it was a social bunch. Evenings were filled with study and reading. In fact, I used to get excited that I could finally read subjects that I wanted to, hence my interest in different cultures. I loved the different fables and legends that each race has; they're all so varied and exciting…

Then there are the exams at the end, and there was always that sense of foreboding that I wouldn't be one chosen as Padawan. Not everyone is, those left behind are placed in the Jedi Service Corps. But then, Master Is'aevi saw my potential and chose to train me. Life as a Padawan is very different, I left my 'clan' behind and ran odd jobs with my Master although most of the time he preferred to train me at the Temple, used to tell me I wasn't ready to join him on his journeys. Sometimes he would let me, but on the more simple missions where I'd spend the day following him around dusty palaces on backwater worlds. Not that I used to mind of course…" he trailed off and sighed, "I was close though. We were planning a big one, a journey to Onderon to once again try and get them to join the Republic."

He noticed his bowl was still mostly full and he smiled sheepishly, "Sorry, didn't mean to ramble at you."