Padawan Ponderings

By Kevin Robinson

Follows Archive 3.3 "Cockpit Conversation"

(In which Geldar reflects on his personal losses and emerging feelings for Lialla Tane.)


Geldar exited the Phoenix Moon and made for the opposite end of the hangar as rapidly as his legs would carry him without looking too noticeably agitated.

Truth to tell, he was agitated.

Tso had come painfully close to the mark with his observation and Geldar only wanted to put distance between himself and the sullustan before he was forced to answer any further queries into his personal feelings. What was the matter with him, anyway? Never one to be afraid of sharing his feelings, Geldar was surprised at his own intense response to Tso’s harmless comment. It wasn’t like him to tuck his tail and escape a conversation just because of a bit of discomfort, but this young woman had gotten under his skin and Geldar didn’t know what to make of it all yet. He didn’t know how to respond to any mention of Lialla by the others. It seemed to him as though every one of them knew his feelings, or at least guessed them and that he must have it written all over his face. He feared that any discussion about her would confirm their suspicions and reveal his feelings. But he wasn’t ready for that. His council was his own to keep and his feelings too.

Besides, Geldar’s feelings were suspect at this time. The young padawan had gone through a great deal in the last few weeks, including the loss of his mother and he was too practical minded to believe that the feelings playing havoc in his soul were genuine.

“She just reminds me of my mother that’s all.” he reasoned. “And of course she would, since she and mother were apparently close. But that is no reason to go fawning over her. My commitment is to the ways of the Jedi and to completing my training. I don’t have time for this kind of relationship right now.”

“So why am I even thinking about it?”

“Loneliness.” he reasoned. “Yes that’s it. All my life I’ve had my family around me in one way or another. But in the last few weeks I’ve lost all of them to one extent or another. First my mother was killed, then Master Orruwarr left me for some mysterious reasons he would not share, now I’ve gone off on some distracting missions and have yet to contact my father which is what I should be doing. Lialla’s just easy to talk to so I’m naturally drawn to her. And why should that be so strange? After all, my mother was like a mother to her as well. Shouldn’t that create a common bond between us? I guess we are like brother and sister in that respect.”

Geldar latched onto that thought.

“Why not? I’ve never had a brother or sister. I’m not sure how one should feel toward a sibling. Surely warm feelings for a sister are normal; especially a sister one has newly discovered. Why should I get myself so uptight about a perfectly natural response to a young woman who shares my loss so acutely as a sibling would?”

“Sibling?”

He turned the word over in his mind as if tasting the sound of it. It seemed sweet at first, but the after-taste left a sour flavor on the back of his soul that he could not wash down no matter how much rationale he imbibed.

Annoyed by his lingering emotions, Geldar made the determination to follow the path his practical mind had carved out for him. He couldn’t allow anything to disrupt his training right now. His mother had given her life to see his life continue; to see his destiny fulfilled. He would not dishonor her sacrifice by aborting his training to follow some whimsical relationship! He would become a jedi knight, a Guardian of Peace in the galaxy as Kylarra Tharn had been to the very end.

The words of the jedi code came to mind:

There is no emotion; there is peace.

There is no passion; there is serenity.

There is no death; there is the force.

“Yes, mother. I will honor your memory and your sacrifice above all else.”

And with a deep sigh of resolution, Geldar continued to the Queens Palace, more anxious than ever to return to Corruscant and seek out his father; perhaps contact his master and receive further instruction.

He had so much to tell Master Oruwarr; so many questions to ask. He had kept up his exercises in the force faithfully and the recent conflicts had offered their own unique form of training and testing. In fact, he felt confident in almost all the particular skills he had been taught and was satisfied with his well rounded training routine, but with his improved skills came more responsibility and more temptation to misuse them.

And the added burden to help Satchal stay balanced as well wore on his resolve at times. It was more than a padawan should be expected to carry and that thought angered him sometimes. He wanted to help his old schoolmate, but sometimes he felt overwhelmed.

“Why can’t Satchal just let go of certain things and move on?” he questioned in the depths of his mind, even as he felt a prick upon his conscience.

His master had warned him not to lose sight of the one emotion that over-ruled any law of the universe; the emotion of compassion. One of the primary differences of the wookiee jedi was their allowance for such sentiment in the universe, believing it’s thread to run too deeply in the fabric of reality to ignore it altogether. Satchal had faced unspeakable horrors in his short life that Geldar could not begin to fathom. How could he judge the other young man’s actions and attitudes without experiencing his pain first hand?

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by an alert on his comlink. Shaking his head to bring himself back to the present, Geldar pulled the communicator off of his belt and answered.

“This is Geldar.”

The hard, rasping voice of Tarrsk broke in. “Geldar, did you find the sullustan?”

“He has a name, Tarrsk.” he answered with a frown. “And, yes. I found him. He’s right behind me. We’re both on our way to the meeting. I’ll see you there.”

“Excellent.” The trandoshan seemed not to notice the correction and continued on in his normal abrupt manner. “I tire of this over-pleasant planet. Other than that little handmaiden and her friends from the Naboo resistance, I have met nothing but soft humans who act as if their city was never occupied at all! It is not right. How can these people be so oblivious?”

“Some would call that human resilience, not weakness. My race has a way of bouncing back after times of tragedy, though sometimes, I admit, we do seem a bit irresponsible in our rush to move on in the name of progress.”

“They do not take the time to reflect on circumstances and learn from them. No wonder humans are prone to repeat their mistakes. If my people lived like that, they would have lost the war to the wookiees long ago.” Tarrsk offered.

Geldar smiled an understanding smile tinged with grief at the mention of the terrible war that had touched his life so personally. He wanted to question his new friend as to whether that might not be a good thing, but for all his harsh culture and character flaws, Tarrsk still felt deeply for his people and Geldar dared not make light of their misguided feud with the planet he called home.

“Well, not all races have the luxery of long life-spans like yours, my friend.” he commented instead. “Some of us have to move on quickly, lest life pass us by.”

A small burst of static sounded through the comlink as Tarrsk snorted in disapproval. “I could not live long enough to understand some races.”

And then he was gone without another word, leaving Geldar alone once again to ponder his own inadequacies and lack of wisdom as he walked....




Continue to "A Near Miss" (The Team stops at Corruscant.)

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