Little by little they try to change me. First went my hair, cut off at the jaw, and dunked in blue dye. My padawan braid lies somewhere in the trash disposal. My hair hasn’t been this short since I was first brought to the Temple.  It’s a little strange catching my appearance in the refresher mirror.

Next they began taking me to the lab once more. Holding me down on my stomach, taking off my shirt. They’re expanding the small tattoo I’ve had since I was born, at the top of my spine. I have to lay through the pain of them engraving something into my back. It hurts most when they began on my neck, tiny, intricate details not noticeable unless looked for. Still, I can detect the difference. I don’t know why they’re marking me, but it tells me they’re building up to something.

They bandage me up, but droids never do well to be gentle. I can feel my raw flesh rub against the harsh dressings.

I try to meditate.

 

 

Nov came in.

“How is your back?” he asked, with tenderness.

“Fine,” she responded, without opening her eyes. Her shoulders sagged a little as she tried so hard to connect to a thing that didn’t exist inside the base.

“Look, I want you to trust me,” he said, knowing the cameras were going to be off for at least a few minutes.

“That’s a lot to ask for from someone like you,” she said as calmly as he’d ever seen her. She looked in control again. Stronger. As much as he liked to see her healthy, he was worried she was getting too accustomed to her surrounds. She could be dangerous again.

“I know how it must seem,” he began. “I’m the criminal; I’ve kidnapped a Jedi and am helping lock her away. But this goes far deeper than just you.”

She opened her eyes but did not move. Starring straight ahead, she said nothing.

“I need your help,” he said. When she didn’t answer he continued, “Jalent needs your help. You’re the only one who can. Why else do you think Shi’Lute locked you up? You alone?”

“I don’t pretend to know what’s going,” she said simply.

“But you do pretend to not know.” He watched her face for any signs. She was hiding them well. “You’ve been able to fit together some things, haven’t you? You’re not in a prison; you’ve got nice room, not a cell. And you’re being well-cared for by many droids. Washed. Fed. You must suspect you’re involved in this some way.”

“The nicest palace can be a prison,” she said, “if not allowed to leave.”

Hearing her say that made him angry. “Don’t spout Jedi proverbs at me,” he told her. “In case you’ve forgotten, they have forsaken you.”

“I’m lost, but not forgotten,” she said, closing her eyes once more.

He decided it wouldn’t do well to provoke or anger her. “Look,” he said again, “I want you to trust me. I’m not working for Shi-Lute.”

The tiniest of smiles formed on her face. “Right,” she said.

“Jedi are bad listeners.”

“Jedi are not gullible.”

“I’m part of the royal guard,” he told her in a whisper. “I’ve been working behind Shi’Lute’s back with the Thirkian Government. Keida, I work for your mother.”

“It comes out then,” she said softly. “I’m here because I was once royalty. I must confess… I don’t see how such ancient and useless matters affect me now. You’ve stolen my life away because I once had a future to be ruler?”

“Not once had, HAVE. Keida, you’re still royal blood. You’re still the heir to the Thirkian Empire. Because of the blood that runs through your veins, you are still our future leader.”

“I am a jedi.”

“No!” he said, fury rising in him. It made her look at him. “You’re not. You’re not a jedi. Not anymore, not ever!” His hands were fists at his sides and he couldn’t look at her anymore. He was truly upset by her statement.

“You think the Jedi are so great,” he spat, “but you don’t know their deceit. They have lied to you you’re entire life, telling you your past is dead. They stole you from here, Keida. You belong here.”

He looked down and took a breath. Keida didn’t want to startle him anymore, he seemed far too upset by everything than he should be.

“I worked for the Queen when the people rebelled against the Royal House. They broke into the palace. I was able to get the Queen to safety, but the King and daughter weren’t so lucky. They pulled him from the palace grounds and excited him in the middle of the city. The daughter was taken by people who wanted to do the same. There was an argument about it, however, because she was so very young. They were fighting about it when I arrived, but I wasn’t able to save you before they dropped you into the lake from the overpass in the city. I thought you had died; you were so still when I pulled you out. That’s when that Jedi came and used his magic on you. You lived, of course. But he took you away with him.”

Keida sat listening intently, hearing the emotion in his voice. Whatever he was saying, he believed with all his heart. That didn’t make it true though.

“I don’t remember any of this,” she said, slowly. Surely she would’ve remembered that much, she was old enough to start collecting her memories. Yet she couldn’t recall what he was telling her.

“Of course you don’t,” he said, looking at her. “The Jedi erased your memory of your home world, to keep you with them.”

Keida shook her head. “They don’t have that power,” she said, though she considered her words as she spoke them. The Force was powerful. She wasn’t sure what all Master Yoda could do with it. And as an infant, her mind was not as strong as it was now. But they couldn’t have. They wouldn’t have.

“Shi’Lite’s striking back,” Nov went on, changing the topic. “He was next in line for the throne, and wants it.”

“But the Thirkian Empire holds no real power anymore,” Keida said. She had read that much in her minimal studies of her home world.

“The Queen is only so in stature, yes, unless something were to happen to Parliament.”

The Queen would have temporary executive power over the entire planet, Keida knew, though Nov said nothing of that.

“Easy to invade, easy to take over. Not to mention Shi’Lute would have legal control over the government, being next in line for the throne.”

Keida tried to put together the real plan. Shi’Lute obviously had some underlining control of Cola, despite being simply a senator. The President here must be a simple puppet. He would use Cola to invade Jalent and have control over the government before the Senate even caught wind of the invasion. But it didn’t make sense if he was rightful heir to the throne. Keida was the heir, unless…

“What’s Shi’Lute’s real name?” she asked.

Nov knew he had gotten her attention. She wasn’t as disbelieving as she had been before. Good, he needed her to believe him.

“Kaster Cava,” he said, studying her face. “He’s your brother.”

“I didn’t know I had a brother.”

Nov shrugged. “Another truth kept from you by them.”

She ignored that. “Why wasn’t he targeted in the attack?”

Nov rose off the bed, glad she was following him with her eyes. It was so much easier to talk to her when she was trusting. “How else do you think the people got into the Palace? Someone had to let them in. He hated your parents. He wanted the throne sooner.”

“Then he doesn’t need me, unless to kill me. And I am not dead.”

“He’s going to use you. The people don’t like him, they know of his betrayal. He had to change his face and name. But you,” he turned back to her, a smile on his face and hope in his eyes, “you were world renown. You were the miracle of that bloody day, you survived. The public would jump at the chance to be ruled by the Blessed Princess, back from captivity at the Jedi Temple. You are legend. You could rule.”

“A puppet ruler,” she finished for him. He nodded.

Keida didn’t like the idea of being a legend here. It wasn’t her he spoke of, but a fairy tale. An alien self she no longer had. Her calling was with the Jedi, not ruling a planet. Wasn’t it?

But she couldn’t just let Shi’Lute’s – or Kaster, whoever he was – attack the planet. And invasion was always devastating. She had to do something, warn the Queen or government or alert the Jedi. Something.

“And where do you stand in all of this?” she asked.

“I was assigned to look after Kaster,” Nov said, glancing at his wrist for the time. Only a few minutes now. “When I heard what he was planning, I volunteered to infiltrate his program.”

“Doesn’t he remember you?” she asked.

Nov shrugged. “A few rumors from the palace and a false pledge to destroy the government was enough to convince him I had changed my ways.”

“I’m convinced of that as well,” Keida said. “Why else would you allow him to capture me?”

“There are many things I can’t stop,” Nov said. “I’m trusted but I’m not in charge. If I had stopped him, he would’ve known and went through with his plans anyway.” He looked at the door. “The cameras come back on in two minutes. I don’t need to tell you to keep quiet about all this, do I?”

“I don’t need to tell you to leave, do I?” Keida responded. She didn’t look convinced anymore.

Nov sighed. “Just think about it. You’ll understand. I know you will.”

“Leave,” she said again. Her head had begun to hurt.

Nov nodded then bowed. “Later, Princess,” he said with a sly grin and left.

The throbbing in her head made Keida lay down on her bed, sighing. So much to think about now. First was how much she could trust Nov. He had done a lot for her but she couldn’t be sure of anything he was telling her. How true was her past, coming from him? How right were Shi’Lute’s plans? How big a role was she playing?

Her shoulders hurt from the earlier tattooing. That made sense with Nov’s story. She’d need a completed mark in order to be accepted in society on Jalent. She knew figure-heads were identified by their marks, or at least everyone would expect her to have one.

But what of his tale of her falling in the water and Covl saving her? Surely her Master would’ve told her that? She knew he had taken her during the revolution, but he would’ve mentioned such an event, wouldn’t he?

She rubbed her eyes as she tried to push past her increasingly quick thoughts. She needed to relax her mind and sort through everything but they were coming too fast for her. She couldn’t find one to grab and contemplate. She wasn’t aware she had fallen into a light sleep until after. At the time, if felt as if she had fallen into a memory.

 

 

Blue surrounded her. She was screaming, but her mouth just filled more with water. It snaked down her throat, choking her for a long time. She didn’t die, though. She wasn’t. She felt her body heavy and fading, but she didn’t feel out of breath. She was breathing, but not air. It frightened her more and sent her kicking and screaming until her fear completely consumed her.

“Calm yourself,” she heard, familiar yet strange. She tried to listen but she couldn’t breathe again and she was back to panic. Everything was closing in on her, the darkness engulfing her until she couldn’t see or hear. So much water. Too much, yet it wasn’t letting her go, it was holding her in it, keeping her alive but out of safety. So much water. Too much.

She woke. She was cold from the sweat that still clung to her. The sheets on the bed were kicked in all directions, the fear of the dream still lingering, keeping her from thinking. Her mind stilled raced to figure out how to get out, while she tried to tell it she was free. She wasn’t in danger, she had been sleeping.

It was only a dream. Just a nightmare.

But her racing heart told her it was something more. A memory, a feeling, a darkness she knew. Something she had always known. The water…

She hugged herself as she muttered the Jedi code softly to herself.

“There is no emotion, there is Peace.”

She slowly began to calm down, remembering the voice in her dream. It was Covl’s, she knew now. She didn’t know how she knew, as it had sounded different in her dream, but it had been. He had tried to help her. He needed her to let him help her.

“I’m here Master,” she whispered to the dark room. “I’m still here.”

 

“I understand you want to protect your senator, President Haas,” Covl said as calmly as he could, “but I’m well aware you are keeping a Jedi somewhere in your military facilities and I’m here to inform you that if you do not locate and return her that I will do so myself. This is a peaceful chance, President, a diplomatic courtesy, granted by the Council in the face of an illegal kidnapping.”

The President stood from his chair behind his desk.

“How dare you,” he said. “You stand here accusing my planet falsely. I’ll take you to the Courts for this.”

“I don’t care what you do, so long as I have my Padawan back,” Covl said. He had learned a lot in the past three months of travel. He had located Plisk, hidden on Noca’s Moons, had gotten the boy to tell him everything about Cola’s puppet government and Senator Shi’Lute’s real power. He didn’t know why the Senator had taken his Padawan, but he had. And she was here on the planet. The Council had only asked him to extend the chance for Cola’s government to redeem itself in this mess but Covl’s patience was increasingly dropping the closer he felt to finding his student.

“I do not have your padwat,” the president said, “and I don’t care what you do so long as you get out of here and off this planet.” The door opened behind Covl and he heard guards begin to move into the room.

He didn’t flinch as he looked the president back in the eye. “I will find her,” he said, calmly but his words held impact. “And I will figure out what’s going on here.” He turned then and walked out of the office, knowing the guards would follow him until he reached his ship. He’d probably be escorted until he was out of orbit.

But Keida was on this planet, he knew for sure, now. The fear in the President’s eyes had revealed it and that something else was brewing. He could sense the storm under the surface of all the people in the government buildings. Cola was about to make a drastic move of some kind. One that required a Jedi Padawan, though? He wasn’t sure. There were too many things going on, and he had no way of knowing how deep Keida’s involvement could be.

But she was here. He had felt her. There had been the briefest of lights in the black senselessness. It had been the first touch of his padawan for months. A vibration through the Force that struck such a cord, it had chilled Covl to the bone. A terror he hadn’t felt from her in a very long time.  That note in the Force was enough to convince him that disarming the surrounding guards and escape from the government building was worth any reprimand from the Temple.

He came to the busy streets just as the first drops of rain started to fall. It had been three months since he had last seen his padawan. Three months of empty void whenever he tried to reach out to her. Three months of following leads that lead astray or lead him back to the beginning. Finally, a break when Cavelt had contacted him with Plisk’s location. He was in the solar system looking over Jalent’s elections. He hadn’t said how he came about the information.

Nevertheless, he was close now. The closest he’d been in a long time. She had to be somewhere, and he would find out where. He had failed her once already, and vowed not to let it happen again.

A/N: If anything has changed in the story...just go with it. Like always, lol.

 

It took a few days, but balance returned. I finally forced myself to eat and to absorb the nutrients from any of the disgusting food Nov brought. Despite his assurance that his choices were much tastier and healthier, it still has taken all my discipline to keep it down. The food here is terrible, much too rich in strong flavors and textures.

Not that I’m a food critic.

I’ve resorted to meditation. It helps, it truly does. Though sleeping has still become a chore and hard, especially with the looming feeling surrounding me, the constant meditation helps relieve the stress from leaking in, and process my thinking.

Mostly, I remember. Remember the missions Master and I have gone on, trying to search through the many memories to find some guidance to help me now. I feel so useless and I try to fight it by listening for my Master, somewhere, in my head or in my dreams.

Every day I attempt the most juvenile techniques, trying so hard to reattach that which has dissolved. I won’t give up with it though. Be it stress, worry or anxiety, I will put them behind me eventually and reconnect. I must believe that. I won’t survive whatever ordeals await me if I don’t believe in myself, the Force, or my teachings.

I only wish I knew how much time has past. Sometimes I feel like I’ve been awake for days straight, sleeping only few hours. I have no idea how long anything is lasting, how absent I’ve been.

As much as I have come to appreciate Nov’s human touch – as opposed to the droids – I know I can’t rely on him. He is here merely to keep me alive, for a reason still unknown to me. Shi’Lute hasn’t come back. No one has. Plisk, or Novian. I am utterly alone in a room full of too much blue.

It’s hard here not to have my fears return. The shades of the room remind me far too much of water, or a distant dream or ancient nightmare I remember waking from, but don’t recall exactly. Feelings of fear, of death. Desperate but silent cries for help. Betrayal in the eyes of an innocent. I don’t know where these feelings come from, where my thoughts reside, how these words seem to appear. I don’t know. I have a perfect memory. A perfect recall since the day I stepped into the Jedi Temple. But what about before that? How curious it is that my first memory is the sheer feeling of awe when seeing the Temple for the first time. My species should have recall as far back as six months old. Yet, nothing.

It isn’t before long that my thoughts then go to my master. He was there, that day, he brought me to the temple, between padawans. I remember how much I was inspired and frightened of his strange appearance, his hairy face engulfed by beard, so unlike any other man I’d seen before, though how would I know if I don’t remember anything before that?

Is this sensation true? Is it possible to recall that a memory is missing, without recalling the memory? Another thing to reflect upon.

     Unfortunately for me, it seems I don’t just dislike those alls of flavor horror they call “Mertha”, but I’ve also been taken ill because of them. For every one I eat, I spend an extra hour in the refresher correcting that mistake.

The door opened during one such episode (unfortunately I tried to endure, starving myself for days then trying again only to suffer the same fate except this time I had eaten more), but I didn’t care to see another droid bring in yet another tray of death treats.

That’s when I heard a “Keida?” in the first familiar voice I had heard in the entire tine out of that forsaken tank.

            In response, I promptly vomited again.

            The refresher curtain was pushed back. I didn’t raise my head but I already knew who it was. Is it strange that I was actually excited and relieved that he was here? I mean, he is one of the bad guys (I can call them that because they have kidnapped an innocent Jedi for no reason making them bad and being sick for so long has robbed me of higher vocabulary.)

            “What’s wrong?” Nov asked. I assume he meant “why, oh why are you throwing up?” and not asking what I was doing holding onto the toilet, that would be foolish.

            “Every…time,” I started, wiping my mouth with my sleeve, then the towel he handed me, “I eat those stupid… balls, they demand sanctuary out of my stomach.”

            As if on cue, I went back down again.

            I didn’t realize he was holding my hair and rubbing my hair until I was done. It reminds me of the last time I was truly this sick. It was my sixth year at the Temple when I came down with Kalli flu. I remember spending most of the day in the refresher with Master Talia hovering around me with soup and medicine (she was the friendly jedi-nurse maid, if there is such a thing), both of which weren’t staying down very well. Raith had come in the middle of the day, the middle of classes, and despite Master Talia’s scolding, stayed until I fell asleep that night. He had had the flu a few months before (it was going around the Temple with the humanoid kids) and was immune to it. Later I found out he had gotten clean up in the workroom for a month for disobeying. He never mentioned anything to me about it, though.

            I miss Raith. Haven’t talked to him in years.

 

 

            Anyway…

            Nov told me it was something called “Tank Sickness”.

            “It happens sometimes to certain beings who stay in bacta tank for an extended period of time. The time you spent in the S.N.C. has slowed all your body’s systems. It can’t digest solid foods yet.”

            I had no idea what he was talking about but he was nice enough to explain. The datapad recorded it (like a the good datapad it is).

 

(Voice recognitionIDENTITY=Unknown)(imput=Nov)

# The Suspension Neuro-fluid Chamber is probably ten times better than bacta at least. It’s amazing. It speeds the body’s healing systems up to immediately correct whatever’s wrong while pushing the rest of the body into a suspended state. Like, if a being had a fatal blaster wound that was about to bleed out any second, bacta couldn’t save him most likely. Not alone. The chamber can. Throw him in there and with in minutes his vitals will be back up and within an hour he’ll be more or less healed.#

 

(Voice recognitionIDENTITY=Keida)

*Why haven’t I heard of this? I’m no doctor but shouldn’t this be a big deal? It could save…googles of lives.*

# -sigh- Shi’lute’s not releasing it. No one else outside his operation knows about it. It’s insanity what he’s planning. Horrible.#

*What?*

He looked at me a very long time, as if once again wondering whether he should tell me. Or course I wanted to and if I could still use the Force, I’d try to persuade him as much as possible, but knew it’d be ridiculous if he actually let me in on the secret. I’m surprised he let so much slip out anyway. What kind of high-ranking member of this secret cult was he?

He smiled, then said “now let’s get you something to fuel your body. You’ve been far too abused enough. I don’t understand. He doesn’t want you hurt at all, or touched really, but he’ll leave droids in charge of your well being without proper instructions. First leaving you in the chamber for five days should’ve killed you, then they’re feeding you nothing but Mertha Balls when you’ve obviously got Tank Sickness.” He shook his head. “You should be dead, Keida.”

That sentiment was made extra off-putting by the way he looked thinking about it, almost like he was happy. Proud? Amused? I don’t know, I could hardly see straight (not eating for probably over a week can do that to someone). But it was very eerie. And weird.

So, there it is. I should be dead. I felt like I was about to die more than anything else and had for the past however long I’d been here but I wasn’t. Not yet. I wasn’t going down that easily. They can’t just shock me to the point of illegal citizen’s abuse, imprison me and put me in a tank that makes me think I’m dead, then torture me with horrible food and starve me at the same time and expect me to roll over and die.

I’m a jedi!

 

At least that’s what I keep reminding myself.

Sorry about that sudden break. I’ll explain that after I tell you what else happened.

So the man who first “welcomed” me to my prison (and who creepily calls me “Sweet Butter”) arrives in the infirmary, after yelling at the droids. I think that’s where I was.

“How are you, Sweet Butter,” he asked with that same fake warm-heartedness he had the first time we spoke. “Feeling better?”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t want to answer. The fear I had felt before was beginning to come back, but I pushed it away. I would use it as a warning. It wasn’t the Force, but Jedi were taught to trust their instincts as well.

“Oh, you can’t talk yet? Well, I’m sure that you will heal up soon. You’re still young, I’m sure you heal quickly.” He came closer, so close I could reach out and touch him, if I wanted to (but I, of course, didn’t. I would rather have eaten nothing but those fleshy-sweet balls for the rest of my life than ever talk to this man again.) “Have you gotten something to eat yet?”

I didn’t respond because the man was looking around for something.

“Where is that boy?” He mumbled. Then he turned back to me. “Why aren’t you in your room.”

The door opened. The yellow-eyed man ran in.

“I didn’t know you were back,” he said, a little coyly.

“She needs to eat.”

“I was getting her food.”

“Where was the prepared food?”

“She didn’t like it.”

“Nonsense,” he said, turning back to me. “You love Mertha Balls! Always have!”

Clearly he thought I was someone else. I’ve been kidnapped because he made a mistake. I tried not to get angry.

The yellow-eyed man didn’t respond and the older one went on. “Take her to her room,” he commanded. “Why is she still in the infirmary?”

“Plisk didn’t take her out of the HESSA tank,” he answered.

Plisk? The same Plisk that got me into this mess? Needless to say, I was now fully interested.

“Never mind, take her to her room. She’s not our prisoner, she’s our guest.” He left after that.

Yellow-eyed guy shook his head.

“If I’m a guest,” I asked, “That I can leave, correct?”

He looked at me, that same sad expression on. “If you were truly a guest, you would.”

“So I was right before,” I said.

“Yes. Please follow me.” He began walking away.

I did, if only because I thought he’d give me more info.

“Who are you?” I asked, walking into the hallway. The muscles in my legs stretched and I tried not to strain them.

“Oh, forgive me,” he said, not looking at me. He looked mad, or maybe annoyed, by talking to the older man. “My name is Novian Scott.”

“Slow down, please,” said despite myself. I had to balance against the wall to keep myself up.

He instantly stopped and walked back to me. “I’m sorry,” he said, trying to help me. “I forgot. Sometimes Plisk can be such a nerf-herder.”

I pushed away his helping hand. “Where is Plisk?” I asked. I figured I could get more out of him if I connected the subjects to keep him talking.

“Probably on Noca, hiding his face with expensive scarves.”

“And where are we?” I asked.

Novian stooped in front of a closed door, and entered an access code. I memorized it, hoping I could use it.

“What did Shi'lute tell you?” he asked as the door swooshed open.

“Am I supposed to know who that is?” I ask, impatient for an answer.

“You were just talking to him,” Novian said, with a dark undertone. Oh yes, the creepy guy. “I doubt he told you anything. There’s gonna be a lot of that."

I didn’t like the impending notion of time in his statement; I wasn’t planning on staying that long. “He said that I was home,” I said, looking into my new room.

“Close,” Novian said. “You’re on Cola Sharten.”

I had read about Cola Sharten when I researched Jalent, though it was more often shortened to Cola. It had a sister moon, Noca Sharten, but they were relatively small compared to Jalent. The two moons usually blocked the sun from the larger planet. I also knew they were across the galaxy from Coruscant.

A light went off on Novian’s belt. “I suppose I’ll leave you here, then,” he said. “Someone else should come check on you and lead you around and pretend to be you friend. Spout a bunch of puddo at you about you belonging here. But if I do ever see you again, call me Nov. I wish you well in escaping.” He then handed me my datapad, this one, and left.

There was a note on it. A tip. The refresher didn’t have monitors.

So I entered my room, went into the refresher, and recorded all of this before I could forget. I don't know how I'll hold up here but I know I have to. That interruption was my food arriving. A whole new, bigger plate of those Mertha Balls. Now I need to try and find something edible to eat.

With or without the Force, I was still a Jedi. I had still grown up at the Temple, was taught the Code and had a master in the galaxy, somewhere, looking for me. Five isolated days and several unconscious ones weren’t going to change that. 

The man came back with a tray and a plain white tunic. He sat the tray down next to me and handed me the clothing. When I didn’t move to put them on, he shook his head.

“Fine, I’ll be back in two minutes.” He left again.

The tunic was big and uncomfortable. I realized how I had always taken the Jedi clothing for granted.

When I finished dressing, I looked at the tray. Round balls sat on it, covered in a red sauce. They smelled okay enough but I wasn’t ready to trust them. I didn’t want him to think I was as weak as actually was. I was beginning to realize how starving I was but I didn’t need him to know that.

He came back in before I could taste one and looked from me to the tray and back.

“The only thing in those are extra vitamins to replenish the ones you’ve missed. No drugs, I promise.”

He walked over, picked up a ball and tossed it in his mouth. “See?” he said. “No more drugs.” He picked up another and handed it to me, then reached for one himself.

I took the one offered, glance back at him, still chewing, and placed it on my tongue. It was unexpectedly sweet, the ball – whatever it was made of – tasted fleshy. It was warm but it only added to its disgusting flavor. I swallowed but didn’t reach for another.

He must have seen my face because he laughed loudly, then covered his mouth as he swallowed.

“You don’t like it,” he chuckled. “I’ve never met a Jallt who didn’t like Metha Balls.” He seemed to want to add more but thought better of it. “I’ll get you something else, then. What do you want?”

I looked at him sternly and said, “I want to talk to my master.”

He looked at me and sighed. He looked sad, for some reason. Like kidnapping me from my home and master was a hardship on him.

“You can’t,” he said. “I’m sorry, but you have to understand.”

I nodded. “Oh yes,” I said, “I understand the concept of captivity very well. I also understand it’s illegal and wrong.”

He nodded, like he understood and picked up the tray. At the door he turned, again appearing to want to speak and again thinking better of it.

He left, once again leaving me alone, but not for long.

A minute after the yellowed-eyed man left, the door opened.

“What are you droids doing?” A voice yelled. “Stand down. Go get new batteries or something.”

I recognized the voice. It was that same, hauntingly familiar voice I had heard earlier. The same man who first spoke to me in my dark prison. 

He turned to me while the droids crowded around the door to leave and smiled. “How are you, Sweet Butter? Feeling better?”

Except, of course, I wasn’t dead or I’d never be able to record any of this.

Like I said before, time moved slowly and it was impossible to tell how long I had been like that. It felt like weeks, months.

Then, the liquid began receding. A gentle pull at first, then almost a vacuum, pulling me down towards the floor. It was worse than almost drowning.

A door opened and light spilled in. It hurt my eyes but I couldn’t clock it out. I was too busy trying to clear the gunk out of my lungs.

Hands came around my shoulders, rubbing them. Then a voice.

“It’s okay. Just keep coughing.”

I did automatically, not to obey the voice.

The hands I assumed were attached to the gentle voice kept rubbing my shoulders, and it wasn’t until I tried wiping my mouth that I realized I was shaking.

“it’s okay,” he repeated. I could tell it was a male’s voice. It was kind and different than the first man I talked to.

“Stupid druids,” he mumbled, trying to wipe me off with a towel. “Idiotic Callians. They should know better than to leave a human in there for five days.”

Five days? I was only in there for five days? It felt like at least five weeks.

“You’re okay?” It was a question this time.

I honestly didn’t know how I was; I hadn’t time to check everything. Once again, by habit, I tried connecting to the Force to have it guide me to anywhere that needed attention. I couldn’t sense it.

I didn’t answer.

He reached for my arm, but I was free. I wasn’t going to give it up because my arm was broken.

I pushed away from him, trying to get to my feet. My legs wouldn’t seem to work after days of disuse.

The room I was in was bright and had control panels. There were beds on the far side and I guessed it was the infirmary. They always had pastel colors that were meant to calm patients. This was pure white, no color aside from black machines and gray chrome. Droids monitored the controls, some unaware of me, others surprised by my sudden charge.

As I staggered away from that dark cell I had spent so long in, I pushed one of the druids towards him. I needed all the time I could get.

It wasn’t any use, though. The attempt was foolish. Five days in liquid oxygen isolation meant only minimal nutrients for five days. My muscles were almost useless, my head trying to adjust to the difference in pressure outside the tank.

The man was next to me again as if he had been there the whole time.

“Calm down,” he instructed, like Covl used to do. “Take a breath. I know you’re scared.”

I glared at him for that.

“Okay, okay, concerned. You want to leave, I get it. But you can’t go anywhere in the state you’re in. Five days in isolations should have killed you. I think you should take several days of bed rest before you try to escape. Can you talk?”

I doubted it, but I didn’t try to. I wouldn’t give my enemy anything, my voice included. I didn’t even look at him until he took hold of my arm again.

“Since I doubt you’ll let us examine you, I’m putting this on your arm, in case the bone hasn’t set yet.”

There was no struggling this time. A constricting sleeve slipped onto my arm.

“I bet that feels better.”

Maybe it was the kindness in his voice, or the similarities to my master’s speech. I’d like to think it was because, as a Jedi, I thought knowing his face would help me, but I know that wasn’t the only reason. Anyway, I looked at this man, the one that had pulled me from that horrific tank, and saw the yellowiest eyes I’ve ever seen on a human.

“Are you okay?” He asked again, kindly.

He wasn’t what I was expecting, I will admit that. He was younger than he sounded. His dirty blond, maybe brown, hair was un-kept, like he had just raked his fingers through it. Pieces fell in his face but he pushed them away. He was much older than me, I couldn’t tell by how much, but he was younger than Covl and, by estimation, the first guy who had seen me since I had been kidnapped.

To answer him, I nodded slightly.

A smile appeared on his face. “Good. If you promise to wait here, I’ll get you some food and dry clothes.”

He left me on a bed in a small infirmary full of machines and druids. I heard the door lock behind him.

There was no where for me to go, anyways.

Liquid entered my mouth and into my lungs. I instantly began trying to cough, my body desperate to force it out of me. It was no use. There was no air to suck in.

Strangely, though, I wasn’t exactly suffocating. It felt as though I had just taken a large breath of air, but instead of gas I got more mouthfuls of thick liquid.

When I realized I was still alive and I would inexplicably stay that way, I relaxed. My nerves calmed and I felt like I was just floating in a sea as deep and vast as any in the galaxy.

It was strangely peaceful at first. My pain disappeared. My panic subsided. I was able to, instead, test my boundaries with the Force.

It’s constant elusions reminded me of the first of the senate shootings, when I was unable to sense the blaster bolt. That was the point, a planting of doubt, that kept me from being able to access the Force normally. I wondered now if it was my doubt that blocked it now.

Time passed ever so slowly. I don’t know if I ever slept, suspended in that black prison.

Nor do I know of all the things that passed through my mind. Doubts, regrets followed happy memories and future dreams. Covl was a constant in my mind. Every moment I seemed to wonder where he was, what he was doing. Was he looking for me? In the beginning I was sure he was but I began to realize how long I had been gone. It must have been awhile. It felt like months. I doubted Covl would go through so much trouble for such a new padawan. We’d barely passed the six months mark.

The longer time dragged on, the more…different I began to think. It didn’t matter if I could feel the Force anymore, it wouldn’t help me. It was hard to move in the thick almost-gel and it took much effort if I wished to reposition my body.

It felt like I was no longer living, no longer alive to feel or see or hear or taste. The only thing was the smell, an almost clean smell, but I had ceased noticing it.

I wondered if I actually did die and what that meant. I wasn’t connected to the Force, like all the teachers before me had taught. I wasn’t connected to anything. Just a lifeless body; floating in a dark cage.

After I was sick, the man left, saying he’d get me something clean to wear.

“Don’t worry,” he told me plainly. “The effects will wear off soon enough.” Then the door closed, leaving me in darkness once again.

Vomiting had cleared my head at least. I was able to process my surroundings more. Besides dark, my makeshift quarters were round, like a cylinder. I couldn’t tell how high above me the ceiling was, as I was still unable to stand.

My cell wasn’t big enough for me to completely stretch from one end to the other without bending my knees, but I didn’t much feel like stretching anyway. And it was designed to confuse me, for when my clean clothes arrived, it didn’t appear to be in the same spot. 

There were no sounds I could hear. Even my own labored breathing was muffled.

My new clothes were made of some strange fiber I wasn’t familiar with. It stretched, covering me almost completely, leaving only my head, hands and feet exposed.

It took all my strength to re-dress. My muscles were screaming from the effort. I wasn’t able to move my arm anymore; the pain overwhelmed me too much.

Not long after, I think I finally fell asleep. My waking was nothing short of rude.

I was so tired from my earlier panic that I didn’t even realize the liquid in the cell until my legs began to get cold. When I opened my eyes, there was already about an inch of goo on the floor of my cell.

It was the first real wake-up call I had gotten. I wasn’t at the temple any longer. Instead, I was alone, isolated without any idea of where I was, where my master was, or what to do.

I reached for the Force, to calm me and help me reach an answer. But just as the first time, it wouldn’t allow me to grab it. I could feel it, surrounding me, but I wasn’t able to use and connect to it.

I felt more alone than I ever had before.

It didn’t take long to realize the water – or whatever it was – was rising, and relatively fast. Within minutes it was up to my shoulders, and I was forced to stand to keep breathing. Soon I was treading, trying to keep above it. My legs were hard to use, but I continued anyway, determined to stay alive as long as I could.

When I could reach up and touch the ceiling, I began to call for help.

I doubted anyone could hear me and even if they could they wouldn’t have cared about a prisoner in one of the cells they deliberately filled with whatever was about to engulf me.

Nothing made sense. Every second, more questions swarmed my mind, taking away my perception on the situation. And then, there was no more air left to breath.

I held my breath for as long as I could. As easily as they had come, all my questions slipped out of my mind. It didn’t matter anymore. There was no way to escape, no chance of rescue. A Jedi was ready to die at all times, but it didn’t make it easier. I began battling visions of the future, of what I could have been, for inner peace. I needed to be okay with dieing, no matter how long or short my life had been, for inner peace. I needed to be okay with dieing, no matter how long or short my life had been.

Finally, I knew I had reached my limit and had gone beyond it. My lungs felt ready to burst. It was strange, the feeling just before my immanent death. My lungs hurt, but the rest of my body felt numb, heavy but no longer in pain.

And then I let out my breath, unable to hold it in any longer.

I sat with my back to the wall, cross-legged. I was mediating, as Covl would instruct. It wasn’t helping but I was trying. I heard my cell open. I had barely opened my eyes (unable to identify the visitor by sense) before the punch connected to my jaw. I was flung across the cell from the power of the blow-my opponent had on tamer-gloves. Usually, they’re used for taming animals because they enhance the taimer’s power but they have also been adopted by some police forces to control or “taime” dangerous criminals of stronger species.

 The shock vibrated through my shoulder. Another blow to my arm. I instantly felt it break. Then another to the top of my head, meant to knock me out. I heard a fading cry of my master who has no doubt sensed everything take place and then the guard-it was a senate guard-told another I was ready to be transported off-planet. Everything went black after that and I don’t remember anything else from that night, or the several days that followed.

 I woke in a strange room. My eyelids were heavy and my eyes hurt even when closed. They pulsed as if sore and my whole body felt strangely heavy and numb. I called to the Force to fight whatever was afflicting me but it simply fell through my fingers. It was an idea that I couldn’t grasp. It scared me beyond words. Such a horrible panic rose in my body that I needed to scream. I couldn’t call on the Force to calm it and I was powerless to calm my nerves alone.

 The walls grew closer around me; everything seemed to taunt me. The pressure in the small, door-less, windowless, corner-less, cabin rose, blocking out my thoughts. My head felt like it had shattered into a million pieces. It was pure blackness around me. I don’t remember what I thought or felt or saw or sensed the whole time I was like that. It was pure panic, one that I could not climb out of no matter how hard I tried to gather my thoughts. They too had floated past me just beyond my reach.

 Light poured in suddenly. I don’t remember where the door came from. I did not know the man standing in the light.

 It’s weird but I never thought being captured would have taken place like this. I thought it’d involve blaster bolts and maybe a high-speed swoop chase through a densely populated forest on my home planet while rescuing the princess (it was a dream I had had a few nights before).

 “Where’s Master Covl?” I managed to ask. I don’t know how, everything felt really strange. I knew I had been drugged or something, but I wasn’t sure what with. I hadn’t really had many missions before; I was still kind of new to the padawan business.

 “On Coruscant,” a voice said. I guessed it came from the man (I knew it was a man because of the shape and stance) but it sounded familiar. It wasn’t one I had heard many times but a nagging in the back of my brain told me I should know where I had heard it before. But my head hurt horrible and I didn’t know which way was up so I couldn’t focus my thoughts long enough to remember.

 “I’m no use to you,” I heard myself say in a voice not my own. I knew that I had a sort of song to my voice. Like, underneath my words a quiet song was singing. It had been described to me many times by admirers and Master Covl but I never could hear it myself. But when I spoke, I realized it sounded different, even to me, and knew that that “song” must have somehow been disrupted in my voice box. In fewer words: my throat was dry and sore. “The council won’t barter for me. I’m only a first year padawan.”

 The man approached, I think. Or maybe he had always been that close. My perception was off probably thanks to the drug. He spoke softly, as if addressing a small child. “Oh, no Keida. You miss understand completely dear. You are not a Jedi any longer. I’ve freed you from that terrible life.”

 I was surprised by his mannerisms. He reminded me of Master Covl on our first mission, or before that: during my Temple years, I had known Master Covl as a friend and mentor. He had given me private lessons before (even Raith had learned a few things from him. Raith was my best friend for several years before he was taken as a padawan when I was six. He was eleven. I haven’t talked to him since but he’s still a friend, it seems like.) Then a fact that I had missed before hit me almost as if the man had slapped me for not noticing it sooner. “We’re not on Coruscant anymore, are we?”

 “No, Sweet Butter, we aren’t.” His tone was loving. It scared me.

 “Where are we?”

 He smiled. I saw because my eyes were slowly adjusting and he was so close to me, nearly whispering in my ear. “We’re home, Sweet Butter. Home.”

Then, I was sick. The timing was perfect, but it was the after-effects from the drugs rather than the disturbing information. I tried to stand but my legs refused to move. I managed to sit up and realized that I could feel something: pain. My arm was on fire.

FROM THE PERSONAL JOURNAL OF KEIDA CAVA, JEDI PADAWAN

Alright, so last this journal heard was that I was arrested. Which is way strange because I'm a JEDI, and Jedi don't get arrested. We're like higher than the police. But that doesn't seem to matter in this case, which is a pretty strange case, as I am writing about.

I don't know if I got through to Master Covl. Doubtful anything useful to him was delivered by me in my elegant attempt of fleeing but I doubt he'd sit back and say to himself "I'm sure all that grunting was her playing. She's fine." So now I'm really just waiting for him to show up.

But see, there isn't any reason for him to check the police. After all, POLICE DON'T ARREST JEDI. Except apparently they do. So it might be longer. And I tried to appeal and get in a phone call but no go.

- There must be some mistake. I am a student at the Jedi Temple. If you would allow me to call my master, or even if you would call the council, I'm sure this will be cleared up. -

(Voice recognitionIDENTITY=Unknown) (Guard/policeman)

< Don't think so, little girl.> Little girl? Seriously??? < Orders are to get you processed and into a cell pronto.>
- But I'm a Jedi. - Need I remind anyone that Jedi don't get arrested?
<Yeah, I know. That's why we're locking you away in a maximum security cell until we move you. >
- But I didn't do anything.-
<I know, I know. Look, I just follow orders,alright? Don't get your robes in a bunch.>
-You're arresting me when you know I am innocent? What sense is this?-

At this the guard stopped in front of a cell - my cell I suppose - and sighed. He didn't look at me. <Look, like I said, I follow orders. And these come from pretty high. But like you said, you're a Jedi, I'm sure this'll be straightened up soon. But for now, just make it easy for all of us and get in the cell. >

Which I did, not to make it easier on them but because there's no way I'm adding more charges to my "sentence". And fighting him would be pointless and cause more than a serious amount of trouble. I may be a little off in politics but even I can see it as a big no-no.

And honestly, I think I'm getting out of here soon. I've been trying to connect with Covl through the Force, but I am unsure how long I'll be here. One thing is bothering me, though(I mean besides getting arrested for no reason in the first place and being brought up on false charges) : There's a presence loaming that feels somehow familiar. Not identifiable, but definitely there. And I'm picking up a void in the Force again, like with the shooting and with Plisk. But this time it's like there's a void, surrounded by a familiar presence. It's confusing my senses. What is it? I've never encountered anything like this before.

Master Covl better be here soon and get me out. I don't like being treated like a prisoner and Jedi meditating can only go so far...