trans_9 | Small Moves [Closed]

Luke rubbed a hand across his face as he came out of the meditative trance. The line between meditation and sleep had been blurred lately, his body needing one and his mind the other to keep functioning properly. Just by looking at the dark circles under his eyes, it'd be pretty easy to tell that Luke wasn't getting enough of one, and healing trances only compensated for so much.

The nightmares were getting worse; in the last one a teenaged Ben had joined the fake Mara in trying to strike him down. Their features had been so familiar, so hard to put from his mind as family and the two people in the galaxy who mattered most to him. His heart had broken the moment he'd made the decision to stop them. He'd seen the sneer on the not-Mara's face, the darkness in Ben's eyes, and the green-white blade of his lightsaber had hissed in the rain that was falling and barely met resistance as it had passed through the body of his son.

The horrifying part had been that in the nightmare, he'd expected to see the halves of the dead ooglith masquer withdraw, uncovering the Vong beneath, but it hadn't, and numbly Luke had realized that this had truly been his son. The tears had prevented him from seeing clearly enough to dodge the knife the not-Mara had plunged into his stomach, but they hadn't kept him from seeing the true Mara's body when they dumped it beside him.

He closed his eyes once more, willing those images away and drawing on the Force for support. Luke reminded himself firmly that it was just a dream, that it wasn't reality and never would be because he would never be able to raise a blade against his son or his wife.

But he'd woken up with the handgrip of his lightsaber in his hand, and a dark shadow down his front, and even several moments of blinking hadn't been enough to dispel the image of that glistening red stain or the thin crease that he imagined along Mara's nose. He'd flung his weapon from him, but it had been a long time before he was able to get back to sleep.

At least now, he had Rogue Squadron and the Magical Department and their respective tasks to keep him busy, but he wasn't sure about the other Jedi on Stacy. And that was why he was calling this meeting. They were Jedi; teaching and helping was in the job description. And so when he'd said to Nanoha he'd speak to the other Jedi, an idea had formed in his mind. A lot of their shielding techniques and such were more specific to Force-users, but Luke knew basic meditation didn't need the Force to help it shore up a mind's defenses.

They might not have chosen to be here, but now that they were, the Luke that was the Grandmaster of the New Jedi Order was determined that they would do their part. A Jedi's responsibility was to those who couldn't help themselves.

Regulating his breath, focusing the Force around him, Luke put out a telepathic call to the Jedi on the ship--trained, aspiring, or otherwise--to come to the Jedi Temple in the City. And then he settled in to wait.

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Mara's thoughts echoed back to him, mildly disgruntled in a way to be called in with the Jedi, but her resistance was fading. Picking up her training with Luke and constantly finding herself grouped with them was sucking her in. While she still refused to pick up the title, she was willing to come to this meeting. Mostly because Luke had asked.

Her future husband was definitely a weak point for her.

The Emperor's laugh still haunted her, and she could have sworn she saw his eyes in another person's gaze. Always in shadows or just out of sight, he seemed to be there. Ready to snatch control back. A blaster firing in Luke's face while laughter rang out . . .

Mara punched the floor of the hangar, the jarring pain in her knuckles snapping her out of the loop. Luke was waiting. A deep breath, a calming exercise, and she was on her way.

Obi-Wan had been going over something in engineering with fierce concentration, but Luke's call had snapped his head up, and with only the briefest of goodbyes he moved to answer it. So strong, like his father, Luke's call was like a bell of glass humming a clear and very pure blue note through his senses; it was impossible to ignore.

Arha had been squinting shadows and fighting sleep as she walked down yet another hallway. Luke's call pulled her feet in the right direction and by the time she looked up again, she was at the temple, slightly weaving on her feet as she blinked at Luke and then abruptly sat.

When they were all assembled with him (and he'd brushed against Mara's mind with a flicker of amusement at her mental grumbling), Luke stood, pulled his robes around him a little more and folded his hands in front of him. He'd thought carefully about what he wanted to say, and these were the three people closest to him here so he wasn't too nervous, but even so...

Being the Grandmaster wasn't an easy job, but it was one Luke had taken upon himself. He just hoped he did a good enough job.

"Thanks for coming, you guys," he said, smiling at each of them in turn. "I apologize for pulling you away from what you were doing, but this is important--not just for us, but the rest of the crew too, and the reason we were all picked up in the first place."

He took a deep breath--talking about the nightmares brought to mind images of those that had had him waking in cold sweats. But it was what was necessary. "I think by now we've all noticed the nightmares, or at least heard others talking about them. I know Mara and I have experienced them firsthand--" his eyes flicked to meet hers, lending her quiet support through the Force "--and from what it seems like, the rest of the crew is too."

He turned slightly, started to pace. This was the hard part. "The leader of the Magical Department has asked its members to help prepare the crew mentally for whatever onslaught is coming, if it is. If not, then the help I'm going to propose to you may at least alleviate some of these nightmares. Because let's face it--being in a ship full of beings who are all in some kind of distress isn't exactly any Jedi's idea of a great place to be." Luke paused in his pacing and smiled a little at the others. "So what I'm asking is this--if you would help other members of the crew learn how to meditate and quiet their minds, I think it'd go a long way to injecting some calm into the situation and shore up their own mental defenses if they aren't Force-sensitive or have any other unique mental abilities. Maybe that calm will help them think of ways to help others in turn. This is all only if you want to, I'm not going to hold it against you if you don't."

Luke looked at all of them again. "I'd also like your input on this and any other ideas you may have. We may be the only Jedi left, but that just makes what we do that much more important." The nerves came up again as he looked between his two friends and his wife, trying to determine their reaction to what he'd asked of them.

"I have begun teaching Jamie McCrimmon already," Arha said in a somewhat flat voice. It was her last shield in place to stomp out the weariness that she noted had been creeping in even when she managed a fitful sleep. "I will teach more if they wish it. I am quite open to doing so. It will cut into whatever training I have been doing, but that is the least of my worries. Setting up a larger class that meets at least twice a day may be beneficial. As it is, I could use the exercise. I shall bring this matter up with Sheeana as well. The Bene Gesserit, too, have methods that will be of use. For example, the fear litany will be of aid."

Small Moves [Closed]

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