The Jedi in my Shed

Rating: NC-17
Feedback: Please
Disclaimer: The Jedi are George's.
Summary: Biker Jedi. Romance.

There was a Jedi in my droid maintenance shed.

Normally, this wouldn't have concerned me for that Jedi would have been my husband. Having just returned from his funeral on Coruscant, I did not know who this man was.

That and his appearance.

My husband had been handsome. Tall and dark to boot.

This man was not.

Smaller than average, he was a pale blonde. So ashen was his hair, so lacking in color, it bordered on being white. When he turned around, he looked out with eyes equally light. They weren't good-looking captivating, but oddly riveting. Electric blue they were. I stared straight into them, entranced, not by the man, but the color.

How did I know he was a Jedi, even before he turned around and I saw the lightsaber at his hip? It's hard to describe, but I just knew. After living with my husband for all those years and meeting his friends, there is something about them that I can tell who they where even if they had their back to me.

Breaking my transfixion with his eyes, I was able to now look at him more closely. Underneath his mop of hair was a young face. Calm and serene it was, just like my husband's, but there was something more there. He looked confused, as if he didn't know exactly why he was there. Oh, he knew he should be there and who had sent him, but the whys and wherefores escaped him. Overwhelmed, yes that was it, overwhelmed. He had the look of someone who has taken on more than they thought they could handle.

I didn't know why he was there either, but I, too, knew who had sent him which is why I didn't ask him. "Dinner will be ready in an hour," I informed him. Walking back to the house, I could now see part of it on the far side of my landspeeder. I swung wide from my path to assure myself that it was indeed there. Wonderful, I thought sarcastically to myself.

We, I and my three sons, were already seated at the table when he came in. There were only five chairs at the table and as we were seated in our normal positions, this left one chair. At the head of the table.

Jahan paused. He knew whose chair that had been. There being no other choice and when I filled the plate in front of it, he draped his nerf hide jacket over the back before easing down into it.

"Who are you?" asked Trave. Seven-years-old, my youngest was never shy.

My husband had been a Sith War reenactor, getting together with like-minded Jedi to play out the ancient battles between the Dark Lords of the Sith and the Jedi. Wearing the clothing of those times and speaking old Basic, they would assume the characters of the old heroes or Sith Lords and fight each other using the lightsabers of those long gone days. As almost everyone wanted to play act a Sith, my husband took the role of one of the ancient Jedi. He said this allowed him to always fight since there was a paucity of Jedi and a surplus of Sith.

Thus the old-fashioned name, Trave. My other two sons likewise had been given names no longer popular. My oldest, Garren, was twelve and Dimon, my ten-year-old. If my husband and I had a daughter, I'm afraid the poor girl would have probably been stuck with some awful name like Nomi as in Nomi Sunrider.

"Jahan," said the Jedi at my table. "Jahan Fornax."

"I'm Trave, and this is Dimon and Garren," my youngest introduced himself and then pointed to his brothers in turn.

"I know," Jahan revealed. "Pleased to meet you."

"How do you know?" my never shy and always curious son asked.

"Your father showed me your holograms."

"Were you a friend of dad's?" Garren inquired, inspecting the man. He was taking the death of his father the hardest.

"No," Jahan stated. "I barely knew him."

Garren looked down at his plate. "Are you here for me?" he asked. "Am I to become your apprentice, your Padawan?"

Jahan paused for a moment. "No." He thought for awhile again. "But when you are ready, I will take you to the Temple."

"Then why are you here?" Trave asked.

"The Force led me here," Jahan said simply.

This explained everything and nothing at all, but my boys and I, having been long used to similar answers, from that chair, asked nothing more on that subject for the remainder of the meal.

However, Trave's inquisitiveness was not yet sated. "Is that your speeder bike outside?" he asked, staring at the man as intently as I had, but it wasn't the man's near lack of pigment that caught my son's eye. It was Jahan's silver loop earring.

Jahan smiled briefly for the answer to Trave's second question was obvious since the bright red vehicle certainly wasn't ours. "Yes, that is my swoop."

I cried myself to sleep that night.

***

Golden shafts of late summer sunlight were streaming through the kitchen windows by the time I was ready for the day. Our farm house was built in the large rambling style of years ago. My husband had loved the venerable old structure as did I, nevertheless, I was grateful that his grandparents and his parents after them, had retrofitted it with the latest conveniences.

Following their lead, my husband updated the home just before Garren was born. Had they not, and kept the home in the original condition, I don't think my husband would have altered anything. I lovingly ran my hand over the modifications he had made.

Had the death of their father not been so fresh and the grief sharply acute, my sons, I believe would have bounded out of their rooms eager to witness the same curiosity that was at dinner, seated at the table for the morning meal.

"Is he up yet?" inquired the last addition to my family and the table. He rubbed the sleep out of his dark brown eyes and yawned.

"No," I replied as I transferred food to plates, doling out the proportions corresponding to the sizes of my offspring.

Garren started crying, remembering that the absence at the head of the table wasn't due to morning meditations and wasn't merely temporary. Trying hard to keep myself composed, I comforted my eldest son until the sobs racking his body subsided. His brothers ate silently, concentrating on the plates in front of them, yet I know they tasted nothing.

Jahan entered the room cautiously. "If you made me anything, I'll eat it later. I'm going to finish what I started yesterday. I'll need your help . . . after."

My sons engaged with their holonet lessons, I found Jahan in the shed once again. Anger roiled up inside me as my face flushed and my hands quivered in indignation at his sight this time. For now covering his head to fall down to his ears was my husband's hat.

It had been as much a part of my husband as the warm smile on his face and the lightsaber that hung from his belt. I had abhorred it. Faded, stained and shapeless, he had refused to part with the head gear even when I had purchased a replacement. Now on Jahan's head, the precious relic was being defiled.

Jahan realized his impiety and removed it. "I found it in here," he explained as he handed it to me and pointed to the location of its last enshrinement. As a grabbed it from his hands, he solicited help from me, "I'll burn."

As my ire had not quelled yet, callous thoughts of not caring ran through my head. "I'll get you another," came from my mouth. I returned to the house more to ensconce the treasure, than to retrieve the replacement spurned and jilted by my beloved.

The substitute fit just as well, which is to say, poorly, for it had been meant as a crown for a monarch of a man. Of course to my eyes, no external embellishments could make this pallid, puny man any more peculiar.

Ready for outdoor labor, he instead hiked one leg atop a duraplast crate, leaned his forearms against his raised thigh and extended his hand inviting me to sit. I perched myself upon the stool at the workbench and waited for him to talk.

"I'm sorry," he sympathized. "I've only heard praise and good words about your husband. He must have been a fine man, a Jedi Knight worthy of the title."

"He was all that and more," I added. *Much, much more.*

"I met him once, three standard years ago," Jahan explained. "I was still a Padawan and we were leaving Coruscant. He was headed home, here, and I was headed with a group of apprentices for one last blind drop-off training exercise before the trials."

I had heard of these blind drop-offs before and I knew what he was talking about. Left off on a planet without advance knowledge of where they were being taken, the group had to successfully arrive at a given set of coordinates. They could only take with them any gear they could stow into a carrybag and half the purpose of the exercise was the choice of equipment taken. For they did not know whether they would be abandoned in a desert, swamp or even some exotic city. The other half of the exercise was to test their resourcefulness, teamwork and of course, their mastery of the Force.

"While in hyperspace, the group of us were talking and passing around holograms of our families. I didn't know why at the time, but the pictures of your sons seared themselves into my brain. Your husband talked about them, you and his groves at length. I remember his words to this day, it was clear he loved and cherished his family and everything here and couldn't wait to return."

Standing straight, Jahan started to pace the floor. "It's clear to me now why those few hours that we met in passing were arranged by the Force. The day your husband died . . . I didn't know at the time he was dead, I found out later . . . I was given a vision." The small man stopped with his back to me and tilted his head up to the ceiling. "I'm to finish your sons' training until they're ready to become Padawans and keep the groves running."

Knowing nothing of the Force myself, I trusted my husband whenever he had told me the Force led him to do this or that, thereby, I trusted in it, myself. I now transferred and extended this faith to Jahan Fornax. "May the Force be with us all," I stated to indicate to him I understood and accepted the situation. I did not like it, but in doing so I was respecting by husband's memory.

He dropped his head and did a quick survey of the shed. "Why is this building so well insulated?"

I slipped off the stool. "The electrical storms during the late spring. The trees have a high metal content and act as rods, attracting lightning and promoting fruit set. We had several severe storms this year, we will have a bumper crop."

***

It was only a week later when the communications system buzzed. During dinner. Dinner lately had been, well, late because of onset of harvest season. My husband's groves had been in his family for twelve generations and the trees were very old and highly productive. The harvest of the golden-green niffon fruit was a tremendous undertaking and keeping the harvester droids operational was a seemingly endless job.

The sticky, sweet fruit, popular with many of the insectoid species, had to be picked at peak of maturity. Plucked too soon, the fruits were sour and hard, too late and they were starchy and gritty. Therefore, the sensors on the droids had to be calibrated within a narrow range. As it seemed many of the droids were as old as the trees themselves, the task was formidable. My husband, although he enjoyed his heritage, always seemed drained at this time of the year and Jahan had assumed the same tired look. *Not with the same satisfaction, though. *

I knew who it was and why they were calling. With my husband now gone, I had expected these calls to stop. I hesitated to answer, dreading what I would be forced to say.

"No, Constable, I'm sorry, I thought you knew. My husband is one with the Force, he passed away."

The scene before my eyes and the sounds that reached my ears were all too familiar and always it gave me dread. But instead of a large dark man, the smaller form of a pale imitation had risen from his half-eaten dinner and said, "Tell him, I'm on my way."

The next words out his mouth also altered the scene. "Garren, come with me."

The town constable was still talking, but I wasn't listening.

"He's not going anywhere," I said as Garren looked back and forth between the two of us. "He's only twelve."

"The Force is not," Jahan said.

I knew I had lost. Garren would soon be led by the Force to become a Padawan learner and he would be gone from my life. In fact, I knew that he was older than most when first taken on as an apprentice since he had been under the tutelage of my husband for his early training in the Force. Many a younger Jedi followed their Masters into much more dangerous situations than the problems besetting a small town. A small town that needed to call on a Jedi as back-up for the only law enforcement officer to handle cantina fights.

I cried myself to sleep again.

***

I ignored the occasional clang of metal on metal for only a short time, long ago regulating the sound emanating from that room to background noise. There, but not really heard. Becoming aware, I squeezed my eyes tight knowing who was making them. While not forbidding him from using it, I had not shown Jahan my husband's workout room thus, I had not specifically invited him to use it. As a entire room cannot be hidden, I had hoped he wouldn't make use of it.

I went to confirm with my eyes, what my ears heard. Standing in the doorway where I had so often enjoyed the view, I was startled. Jahan was on the bench nearest the door or at least most of him was, for resting on the floor was an artificial leg. Jahan was missing most of his lower left limb.

Jahan sat up, wearing comfortable workout shorts but nothing else. His small frame was as well defined with muscles as large for his size as my husband's had been for his. This did not catch my interest as much as what else was etched there.

My sons had excitedly informed me a few days prior that Jahan sported tattoos and were about to decant the information as to what was depicted upon his biceps. I had cut my boys off, telling them I wasn't interested. Plainly visible now was the image of The Temple of Jedi on the left and two crossed red lightsabers on the right.

"He's got everything here," Jahan praised my husband's trait of never doing anything half-way, but always thoroughly, as he appraised the equipment. "I'm impressed."

"He took his calling seriously," I stated. "He used this room often."

"I hope you don't mind me using it," Jahan said.

Rationality overcame my emotions. "No, not at all. It would be a shame if they went unused."

My undulating emotions dipped once more into a trough as the memory of the times my husband, my lover, and I had used that very bench for exercises in duet. I grew resentful of the infidel contaminating the altar of our passion. I focused on Jahan's prosthesis instead.

Jahan did not seem self-conscious of his missing limb, but as cybernetic replacements were nearly universal, the sight of foreshortened limbs were a rarity.

"I'm allergic to dimetris," he explained. "Cybernetic parts have dimetris circuit boards in them. It was getting itchy so I took it off." He pointed to the leg and scratched his stump. "If it bothers you, I can put it back on and use the Force."

"No, no. That's fine. I'm not bothered," I stated as I was more surprised at the sight than repulsed. "How did you lose it?" I knew it was a highly personal question, but he was living in my house after all.

"Someone turned left in front of my swoop," he related. "Severed my leg right off. They never did find it on the ground below." He laughed grimly.

He must have been used to the next question I was going to ask, for he answered before I could mouth it. "No, I couldn't sense it coming through the Force. I was pretty well lit at the time. Didn't feel a thing." He didn't laugh this time.

***

I could have them delivered to our home, but I liked shopping for myself. It got me out of the house and around other people. Currently, I wanted to be around anyone who wasn't Jahan Fornax.

Oh, he wasn't any bother, he was polite and neat and all those sorts of good things. I don't want to sound as if I was ungrateful, for in fact it was he who was keeping the groves running. It was just, well, he made me uncomfortable. It wasn't anything in particular that he did or didn't do. The strangest thing about it was that I was on edge when he did things or acted just like my husband used to and when he did things differently.

Now, had I used a datapad for my shopping list, it wouldn't have happened for the glowing typeface was cold and impersonal. However, there on the bottom of the plastifilm sheet written in neat, precise script were a few of his own additions.

I smiled.

Smiling too, were my children upon my return.

My husband had tried to get them interested in his Sith Wars reenactments, but they just humored him wishing to do anything with him. I knew they found all the "thees" and "thous" boring.

In contrast, until this point, my children had seemed to find Jahan fascinating, but didn't want do anything with him excepting his civilian peacekeeping duties, which Garren relished. Not only were they smiling, but laughter and music filled the house, which had been somber for so long.

Jahan Fornax was a jumping Jedi.

They didn't call their dance troupe this and no one called them that to their face, but that was what the Lightsaber Dancers were popularly called. Leaping and somersaulting over crossing and uncrossing lightsabers, they were a sight to behold. All the more mesmerizing was its danger, for one misstep, one miscalculation, meant the cauterizing blades would sever a limb or a life short. Or could have, for in actuality many of the troupe were Jedi Masters who had sufficient prescience with the Force to prevent any such catastrophe.

Not that anything that spectacular was going on in my house. It was merely one Jedi Knight instructing three small boys in basic leaps and tumbles over one crimson blade and having the time of their lives.

I'm sure that some would deem me a terrible mother for not immediately running into the room screaming to save my three young ones from such peril. Although I am not a Jedi myself, much of my life has been spent around them, having been married to one. I knew the blade was at its weakest strength and the most harm that could come to my boys was a sprained ankle for the weapon could only sting at its current level.

I turned around and put the food away.

That night I wore my husband's clothes to bed. They were still waiting for him to return, hanging yet in the wardrobe. Bringing one of his tunics to my face, I breathed in deeply and was disappointed with the freshly laundered smell.

The weakest of all our senses, I was forgetting what he smelled like. It was the salty, musky odor of a man. I rummaged through all of his clothes hoping to find one, just one, that retained any scent of him. *Why had I washed them all?* I settled on just having cloth that had once touched his skin, touch mine.

***

It was important to me to continue the family traditions that my husband and I had instituted. The niffon harvest festival was one of these. The celebration took place near Portam Settlement after the harvest each year. As we lived at the extreme edges of the niffon growing area and the festival was held in the very center of it, the trip was a lengthy one and we usually left before dawn to enjoy the entertainments all day.

As it was a community event, contests were held for homemade crafts and prizes awarded. Animals were exhibited. The festival, of course, offered every imaginable treat that could be made with the sweet, sticky fruit. Synonymous with festivals and stomach aches, if consumed in large quantities, a wide variety of greasy and/or sugary foods were sold. Then, challenging your stomach to retain its contents were the rides. The wheel of wonder and t he hover coaster were two of my children's favorites.

My husband had been a loving father and a stern one. He expected well behaved, polite children who did their chores and their lessons without complaint. As a reward, at events such as these he catered to their whims and had his behavior carried on into everyday life, I'm afraid we would have had three extremely spoiled little boys.

Like mothers everywhere, I was the last ready having seen to my children's needs first and they had already piled into the landspeeder. I nearly frowned, for at the controls, the Jedi in my landspeeder was Jahan Fornax.

To be honest, I hadn't given it a thought that he would come for this was a family outing. As all the occupants of the landspeeder were smiling in anticipation, Jahan included with that silly grin of his, and I didn't want to be a black cloud over my children's joy, I climbed in the front passenger seat. I was only mildly resentful of his presence for I had been a tad nervous traveling all that distance alone with my three children and I figured if we ran into trouble he could be of help. *The Jedi council had made him a Knight after all.*

We were having a such a wonderful time, I admit, from time to time, I forgot that my husband was absent. The craft displays were quickly dispensed with and the food and rides seen to immediately. Jahan took them on all the rides, even the stomach turning ones that I declined.

Walking through the crowds, Jahan led with Trave holding his hand and Garren and Dimon flanking them as I trailed behind. I didn't mind for this was as it always had been and the festival was for children primarily and as everyone knows men are nothing more then large little boys. *Or in Jahan's case medium sized,* I thought unkindly to myself.

"This is new!" Dimon excitedly piped. "Games!"

As my boys started running, pulling Jahan along with them, I looked around. The carnival games of chance and skill weren't a new addition to my eyes. I had played them when I was a child and they were an integral part of the festival's landscape.

*Wait a minute . . .* It dawned on me. My children had never been here, somehow in all these years, this part of the festival had been overlooked by my family. It was new to my offspring. I shook my head. *Can' t be, how could we have possibly missed this part?*

By the time I caught up with them, Jahan had already handed over the few coins and Trave had a ball in his hand ready to toss it into the energy ring to win one of the stuffed saxforns hanging overhead. Swoosh! the ball went in. A triumphant, bright, beaming smile overtook Trave's little face. A warm glow came over me, proud of my son's good aim for I knew the games were as rigged as possible, making the feat nearly impossible for one successful attempt, much less the three required to win the prize.

The carny running the game had the ball in his hands and was returning it to my son's, when an equally dirty and dentally-challenged man whispered into his ear and pointed to Jahan. To be more precise, he pointed at Jahan's lightsaber. The carny removed the ball from my little one's grasp. "Sorry, your kind can't play. Unfair advantage."

I knew that Trave had yet to develop the Force skills necessary to perform the act and had done so using eye and hand coordination. Trave's little face was crest fallen. I was indignant. *How dare he! Him, claiming Trave was cheating!*

Jahan, putting his arm around Trave's shoulders, quickly came to his defense. "He's not using the Force, I can attest to that."

"But you can," the man with the apparent allergy to soap and water stated, pointing to Jahan's chest.

"I've got two more turns," Trave appealed. "I want to win the saxforn!"

Calmly, in spite of the insult to his honesty, Jahan dropped his arm from Trave's shoulder and approached the man to rationalize with him. "My word of honor. . ."

"Listen, Dad, why don't you and your family just leave," the carny loudly said clearly pleased with the power he was yielding over a Jedi. "We don't need your kind here."

Herding my small clan away, Jahan now let his anger show as he locked eyes with mine. *He's mad at me!*

"But, but . . ." Trave protested half turning his body back around toward the game as he was led away. "I've got two more turns!" He started crying and broke from Jahan to run to me. "Mom! Why can't I finish? It's not fair!"

"It's because we're Jedi," Garren explained to his younger brother.

The event put a pallor over the rest of the day and we left earlier than normal, nonetheless, it had gotten dark on the trip home and exhausted, my sons fell asleep in the back seat. Jahan and I did not say a word to each other as he sped along gripping the controls tightly.

Breaking the silence, he loudly announced. "I'm flying blind, here, you need to need to tell me these things."

"What *things* ?" I snapped at him.

"These *dad* things," he snapped back taking his eyes off the road to look at me.

"You're *not* their father," I hissed loudly at him as I turned to look at the forest whizzing by. *Not even close.*

He took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. "I am well aware of that. That's why you need to tell me things like those games back there."

"We never went there before," I said through clenched teeth. *How dare you blame me.*

"How could you avoid it?" he stated incredulously. "It's half the festival!"

"I don't know, we just didn't."

He took another loud, deep inhale followed by an exhale. "What I am asking is how did your . . . husband . . . avoid the games?"

"We just never *saw* them, *I . . . don't . . . know *!"

Jahan started muttering under his breath as we sped along faster.

"You're going too fast," I informed him.

"I'm not going beyond my Force abilities," he stated as the landspeeder's velocity increased.

"Slow it down!" I commanded him. I was thrown forward as the craft came to a sudden halt. Hopping out, Jahan strode away.

Looking around at the uninhabited wilds surrounding the road cut in them, a jolt of fear ran through my body. "Where are you going? You can't walk home!" I yelled.

"To take a piss! Or didn't your husband do that either?!"

Snorting to myself, I crossed my arms and faced forward in a huff.

But the Jedi in the woods wasn't finished with his ranting. "YES! I, Jahan Fornax, Jedi Knight extraordinare, have become so *enamored* of KRIFFING trees, I've decided to *personally* water *this* tree!" he raved. "Oh! You FORTUNATE tre e!" He stomped back towards the landspeeder. "The rest of you KRIFFING trees! SORRY! I'm all out! Maybe next time!"

*He's lost it,* I thought to myself as I tried to stifle a smile.

Plopping down into the seat, the speeder rocked a bit. "There, much better. Now, where were we?" He caught my attempt at hiding my amusement and smiled himself.

"Arguing," I stated allowing my face to fully smile.

***

Entering the room, he handed me one of the two bottles he was carrying. The same expression came over his face as did his first day with us and it was regarding the same type of furniture. It was a fleeting look, but I caught it nonetheless.

It was a throne fit for royalty. The chair was large, overstuffed, clearly the most comfortable in the room and much used. Deeply imprinted into it was the large form of the king who once sat there.

My sons would fight over which of them had the honor to sit in the chair when my husband had not been there. It could accommodate two of their bodies, leaving only one lucky loser to be comforted by the second most appealing chair in the room, my lap.

The three boys, sleeping over at a friend's house, left the chair empty.

Jahan Fornax sat, as usual, on the far side of the divan that I was seated.

Opening his bottle of lomin-ale, he took a swig and looked at the label. He hadn't specified which brand of lum on my shopping list, so I did what came naturally to me, which was choosing the one my husband had preferred. *J ahan doesn't like it.*

I was watching one of my favorite holoprograms. Previously, I never was able to catch the first half of it when my husband was alive for it ran the same time as those Zoneball games of his. Usually, though, I did get to see the second half for if the constable's call didn't come during dinner, it inevitably came during the game. Not that I could enjoy it, worried as I was for his safety.

Jahan looked up at the static holographic poster on the wall. My one concession to my husband's questionable decorating tastes, it was of his favorite team, the Ryloth Rancors. I didn't know much about Zoneball except what made its way into my brain via osmosis, but I did know they were the league's championship team last year. My husband had been ecstatic.

I changed the broadcast frequency.

Never joining my husband in watching the game, always somewhat miffed that I wasn't viewing my show, I usually found something else to occupy myself while still being in the room with him. I opened my bottle of lum and watched with Jahan.

The Ryloth Rancors were playing Devaron Novas, which I gleaned were the perennial losers, but had a strong following of ever hopeful ‘There's always next year' fans. My husband always disdainfully remarked that not only couldn't they play Zoneball, but they also couldn't even spell their own name as he thought they should be rightfully called the Novae.

Shortly, I discovered the Jedi on my divan was cheering at the wrong times.

The constable's call came and Jahan hurried out the door. I changed the frequency and finished watching my show. Curling up in the most comfortable chair in the room, I fell asleep.

***

Two weeks before his thirteenth birthday, he was gone.

Jahan and Garren had left for The Temple of the Jedi on Coruscant and only Jahan was to return. In the weeks proceeding his departure, my eldest and Jahan had spent much time together in meditation, therefore, it came as no shock to me when he announced that he wished to continue his training. I fully expected this, as he came from a long line of Jedi and I knew that this day would have to come eventually.

That night I played a short holographic message my husband had once sent to me, just to hear his voice. I fell asleep still depressing the button.

***

"Yes, Jahan?" I asked him as I entered the droid maintenance shed. "Did you need me for something?"

He was bent over the work bench engrossed with a mess of internal droid parts carefully fitting pieces together with delicate tools. "I need your help. That dimetris circuit board," he instructed while nodding with his chin towards the chip. "Needs to go here." He pointed to the spot with the end of one of his tools.

"You called me all the way out of the house for that?"

"I told you I'm allergic to them." He continued to look down at his work while holding the semi-assembled pieces together with the ends of the tools.

I picked the chip up. "Where?" I inquired.

"Here," he said, pointing again.

"I can't see," I said, while trying to look over his arms.

He raised one of his elbows high while still holding the pieces with the tools. "In here," he said.

I had no choice but to duck under his arm to position myself between Jahan's arms and the bench. "Where again?" I asked, wanting this over as soon as possible.

"Right here," he stated.

The chip being small and the site he indicated was therefore also tiny. I bent down to see better.

"Ooh, yeah!" Jahan moaned. "Right there!"

Furious, I spun around quickly, only to find myself face-to-face with Jahan with his arms still surrounding me, still holding the droid parts on the bench.

"Even better!" he effused, breaking out into a stupid wide grin.

"Do you mind?" I asked, with as much iciness as I could put into my tone. I knew the moment the words came out of my mouth that had been as much of a mistake as turning around had been.

He dropped his head and his countenance. "Bad Jedi," he chastised himself. Trying to be cute, he raised his eyes up to look at my expression and that stupid grin broke out all over again.

I turned around, put the chip into the slot and ducked under his arm to storm back to the house.

A quarter of the way back to the house realization flooded over me. *Ligh tsabers have dimetris circuitry and he would have had to make one by himself. Of course . . . he would have used the Force, levitating the chip in. Why that . . .*

I spun on my heel to return to the shed and only took a few steps before I heard Jahan howling in delight over his stunt. "Oooooouuuuuuuwwwww!"

It was more than I could take and I resumed stomping back to the house huffing and muttering to myself that I would not be the brunt of that insufferable runt's jokes again.

***

The low rumble made me look up into the sky. Although it certainly wasn't storm season yet, they have been known to form almost any time of year. But the skies were clear and the rolling thunder was steady and increasing in volume. Trave and Dimon broke from their studies to join me at the large circular window in the kitchen just as Jahan, outside, strode past towards the noise and the road. Trave and Dimon bolted towards the back door to join him and were nearly outside.

"No, you don't," I stated firmly. "You stay inside."

"Aw, mom!" they both whined in unison.

"Inside," I reaffirmed. They shuffled back to the window.

Pulling up to my house were five speeder bikes. One rider dismounted as the rest watched him approach Jahan, who was standing there with his arms crossed over his chest. Stopping a few meters from Jahan, the man stopped with his arms hanging loosely at his sides, ready. Only larger than Jahan by several centimeters and several kilograms, his appearance was made more formidable by the long beard he wore braided into a single cord as was his hair in back. He was wearing the same type of nerf hide jacket that Jahan himself owned.

In a flash, two lightsabers were produced and ignited. Both Jahan and Braid Beard took up defensive postures and started circling, warily sizing the other man up. Jahan attacked first, lunging and thrusting at the man holding the blue blade. The man parried meeting each of Jahan's assaults.

Bringing his own crimson weapon down, Jahan's was met mid air by Braid Beard's. Sparks showered from where the two lightsabers contacted in the power struggle. Straining against each other, Braid Beard was slowly giving way. He retreated flipping backwards into the air to face Jahan, but at a few meters away.

Once again they were circling each other and Jahan feinted to the left and then attacked to the right. Braid Beard hadn't fallen for it and parried the red weapon of light briefly before leaping high into the air. Coming down intending to stab through Jahan, Braid Beard was skewered through the crotch by a shaft of crimson.

I then remembered that I did need to breathe, for in my concern for Jahan, I had forgotten. The other four men and a boy dismounted.

Laughing in a uproar at their compatriot curled up on the ground and holding his stinging balls in his hands, they greeted Jahan warmly, slapping his back in congratulations. Only then did I realize that the two blades had been abated, for my fear for Jahan had overridden my senses.

Once Braid Beard recovered, Jahan led his friends into the house.

"Nice move," one of them praised Jahan as they assembled around the kitchen table. There being only five chairs someone had to stand and for obvious reasons, Braid Beard chose to lean against the wall. The young Padawan stood respectively behind his master's chair.

*His poor mother,* I thought to myself. * I bet she doesn't get any sleep*

"Qui-Gon taught that to me," Jahan revealed.

"Jinn?" one of them asked, nodded his head and smiled. "Figures."

Jahan introduced me, Trave and Dimon to his friends as he rose to retrieve refreshments from the chiller. Returning with lum for all except the Padawan, the hiss of opening bottles underscored the friendly rumble of deep voices and warm laughter.

I shooed the children back to their studies and resumed my dinner preparations.

One of them lifted the bottle up and looked at the label. "Drinking the good stuff now, Red?"

"Yeah, nothing I'd buy for myself," he said, raising his bottle in salute to me. "The Force has smiled on me."

I realized then that I had misread his earlier assessment of the brew.

"Either that," Jahan said, as he turned around to grin stupidly at me. "Or it's my good looks."

*Oh, please,* I sardonically replied to myself.

"Baffles me why they always fall for you," one of them stated seriously. He then caught himself and surreptitiously flicked a finger between Jahan and me miming the question to Jahan whether or not we were an item. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jahan give a slight shake of his head and the man visibly relax.

"So, Red," another inquired, changing the subject. "How's everything going for you?"

"Fine, fine," Jahan said. "Smoothly, I'm where the Force wants me to be. Harvest is over and things have slowed down, Trave and Dimon are making great progress." He took a sip from his drink. "What brings you here?"

"Swoop week on Tonaday. We're helping out with security," Braid Beard answered. "We thought you'd like to come along."

"Fine, fine," Jahan said. "Smoothly, I'm where the Force wants me to be. Harvest is over and things have slowed down, Trave and Dimon are making great progress." He took a sip from his drink. "What brings you here?"

"Swoop week on Tonaday. We're helping out with security," Braid Beard answered. "We thought you'd like to come along."

"Sounds great," Jahan said. He turned around looking at me for permission.

*I'm not your mother,* I thought to myself. "Nothing important needs to be done around here until spring, I can take care of things until you get back."

"Are you sure?" Jahan asked.

"Go," I said. "Have fun." *Please, please, go. Stay two weeks.*

"Great," said Braid Beard, as he pushed himself off the wall. "Our ship is leaving tomorrow afternoon. Now, what do you say we head back into town and grab something to eat."

"Think you can ride in your condition?" Jahan asked.

Braid Beard must have sent a telepathic reply for there was a second or two of silence and then bawdy laughter from all the men as they pushed back their chairs and stood.

"Trave! Dimon! Get ready," Jahan yelled back to where the boys were supposedly studying. I knew they weren't, but had been peeking looks at the gang of men at the table. "We're going out to dinner!" I was right, for they trotted in before he finished talking.

"But I'm making dinner now," I protested.

"Put it back into the chiller," Jahan stated as he donned his jacket. "Come on, let's go."

The last thing in the galaxy I wanted to do was go into town with Jahan and his swoop friends, but I also didn't want to embarrass him in front of his friends or insult them. Additionally, the eager faces on my boys tipped the scales. I certainly wasn't going to let them go without me. I started putting the food back in the chiller.

By the time I had finished getting ready and walked outside, Jahan and his friends were passing the time playing Zoneball. With my sons. With my youngest son as the ball.

Curled up with his knees held to tightly to his chest with his arms, Trave was held high over Jahan's head. Jahan threw my son, who sailed through the air giggling in an uproar of delight. One of Jahan's friends caught my youngest offspring, tucked him under his arm as best he could and dashed for the imaginary goal line.

"Me next!" Dimon implored. "Me next!"

Jahan turned to me, puffed out his chest and boasted, "You're looking at the best Zoneball team the Temple ever had!"

"Oh?" I said, not really interested.

"Yeah, we almost won a game!" Trave's receiver added.

"What team was that?" Braid Beard asked the receiver.

"The University of Southern Coruscant."

"They were awful," Jahan grimaced.

Here was my chance to get even. "But you didn't win?"

Braid Beard walked a few steps closer to me. "Close one eye," he instructed. I complied wondering where this was leading. "Look around, notice how you've lost your depth perception? Now, close both eyes. Imaging trying to play ball half-way between being blind and having only one eye. We weren't allowed to use our Force abilities. Had to shield them. It's quite disconcerting."

"Oh," I said once more. I couldn't win.

"Ready?" Jahan asked me. I nodded.

Jahan walked right by my landspeeder. I panicked. *Oh, no.*

"Trave?" Braid Beard looked at my youngest who nodded in confirmation. "Here, put this on." He handed him a helmet which my son strapped on.

Picking him up, Braid Beard stopped holding Trave at eye level. I could feel something strange in the air, a type of energy flowing between the two as all attention turned to them. Their faces lit up in radiant recognition. Braid Beard closed his eyes savoring the euphoric state.

"Found yourself a Padawan?" the master with the young apprentice asked. "Feels good, doesn't it?" he said as he gave his own Padawan a hug around the shoulders and smiled warmly at his charge.

Moments before this would have been my worst nightmare. Now, it just felt . . . right.

"Feels wonderful!" Braid Beard said elatedly. "But I feel the time is not right just now. The Force wants me to wait. Maybe another year." He rapped his knuckles on Trave's helmet. "You've still got some things to learn from Red."

"Funny, it seems like just yesterday we were all Padawans," the receiver stated as Braid Beard put Trave on the back of his swoop. "Now, we're on the other side of the fence, getting apprentices of our own."

Dimon was already behind another of the group as Jahan was extending a helmet to me. I shook my head. "No, no. Let's take . . ." Jahan cut off my argument by placing the helmet on my head. He had to bring his head down to see since we are the same height to strap it under my chin. He paused for just a moment, looking into my eyes.

"But . . ." I protested. Once again, I was countered when he placed his hands around my waist and lifted me up and onto his swoop.

Once astride it himself, he turned around to me. "Hold on tight." I did as instructed, embracing him around his chest as we took off towards town.

I hugged him closely with my eyes closed, feeling the cool wind of winter rush by. After a few minutes, I chanced a look only to see the ground beneath us whirring by in a blur. I shut them again, drawing myself nearer to the warmth of his body radiating through his jacket.

As Trave and Dimon were on the other side of me, I switched my head around and opened my eyes to check on them. They were sitting up straight. In fact, Dimon was leaning back a bit.

Getting used to this new experience and seeing how my children were positioned, I became braver and released my arms from around Jahan's chest and sat up straighter.

Without notice, the machine bucked up and down and I grabbed hold of Jahan again. He rubbed my hand reassuringly. I knew he had done that on purpose, but I was in no position to yell at him, besides, it was warmer this way. I decided I would give him a good tongue lashing once we were safely back home.

"How dare you!" I yelled once his friends had left back to town for the night and the children put to bed. Braid Beard had smiling told me not to cut Trave's hair, which was short, since he was going to need to braid something. I assured him I wouldn't while thinking just how adorable Trave would look with a Padawan's braid.

"What?" Jahan said innocently. "What did I do?"

I was so mad at him, I swore. "You know *stang * well what you did. ‘Hold on tight', indeed!"

The crazy pale Jedi smiled that *stupid * smile of his, threw back his head and howled, "Oooooouuuuuuuwwwww!" as he danced toward for his room for the night shaking his rear as if he had just scored in a Zoneball game.

The next morning he was packed and ready to go. Hugging Dimon and Trave, he sent them off admonishing them to study hard, meditate often and listen to me. They lingered. "Go, I want to talk to your mother." They slowly retreated to the house.

"Are you sure you will be all right?" he inquired.

"Yes," I said to him clipping the words with residual anger from last night. "I'll be fine."

"Be sure to set the security system at night and have the constable's number on speed call," he warned. "I've already told him to keep an eye out over here."

"I will."

He turned to leave, walked a few steps, stopped and walked back. "One more thing," he said.

The Jedi on my lips was Jahan Fornax.

So stunned, I couldn't move or speak.

"You don't like me now," Jahan stated. "But I'm going to make you love me."

"You wouldn't dare use Jedi compulsion on me!" I warned him.

"Not Jedi compulsion," he said as he wiggled his fingers at me. "I'm going to use Jahan compulsion." As he sauntered away, once again he howled, "Oooooouuuuuuuwwwww!"

***

I woke up the next morning thinking about Jahan. *I wonder if his ship has landed yet?* I frowned. *What do I care? He's gone, thank the Force, he's gone. A whole wonderful week without him. None of his off-key loud singing, no more telling him not to sit on the counter top. Maybe he'll decide he misses his swoop friends too much and won't come back.*

As I made breakfast, I found myself thinking about him again. *If he thinks he's going to make me love him he's in for a big surprise. How dare he? It's all I can do to just to be polite to him for the children's sake. I don't even like him. Maybe I'll call the Temple, pull some strings with the council, my husband is owed more than one favor, forbid him to come back.*

"When is Red coming back?" Dimon stated as we ate breakfast and he stared at the empty chair at the head of the table.

"Don't you ever, ever call him that again!" I snapped at my middle son. "He is a Jedi Knight and you will have proper respect!"

Dimon apologized.

I sat fuming for a while, mad at myself for such an outburst. "I'm sorry Dimon," I stated. "I shouldn't have snapped at you. It was uncalled for."

"That's okay mom." He smiled at me. "I miss him already, too."

"I don't miss him!" I said a little too loudly.

Trave and Dimon just looked at me.

"I'll tell you what," I said changing the subject. "Get to your meditations, do your chores and I'll call Thon and Sylla's mother. You can skip your holonet lessons for today and we'll go riding this afternoon."

The day being brisk and crisp, our mounts were full of energy. We had a delightful time riding in the countryside with our friends. My sons always loved going to the Dall's farm, it was a shame we didn't get there often enough. I promised myself I would make more time for my friend.

"Come on in," Yasilla invited. " How about a nice hot mug of caf?"

"Sounds good," I said, as I scraped my boots off on the porch.

"Puppies!" Trave and Dimon chimed in unison to the sounds of high pitched yelps.

I just loved Bandab hounds. I had always wished for one just like Yasilla's and here was a litter of six. "Oh, how adorable!" I cooed at the one I picked up and rubbed noses with it.

"Can we have one mom?" Trave pleaded. "Can we?"

"How much?" I asked my friend for I knew they were expensive. *Maybe that imp of a Jedi is allergic to hounds also.*

My friend furrowed her brow. "Um, didn't Jahan tell you?"

My eyes widened with rage building. "Tell me what?" I said managing calmness.

"We promised him one after he caught those rustlers. In fact, he picked out that one there. They were weaned three days ago, you can take her home today."

The comm center was flashing that a holonet message was waiting. I stabbed down the button. A small image of Jahan came to life, grinning from one end of his stupid face to the other. "Just don't name her Nomi," the image commanded.

I punched the comm off.

I fell asleep with little Nomi curled up next to me.

***

I lowered myself into to the tub. The day had not gone well. It seemed as if anything that could have gone wrong did. The front door stuck and I spent it half the day just removing the control panel to fix it. It took two trips into town to finally get the right parts and upon my second return, I discovered a nirgath had made its way into the house. Nomi had been chasing the small rodent all over and had made a wreck of the house.

*Oh, this feels good,* I thought to myself as the warm water enveloped my body. I rarely used the large spa, it had been installed more for my husband's use for his various aches and pains. Being tall, his back often bothered him. Nonetheless, I would from time to time indulge myself and kept a bottle of bath oil on the side.

Picking up the bottle, it felt different. *What the . . .* I opened my eyes and looked at it. The label had been peeled off and had been replaced with a painted on one.

*Essence of Jahan.*

I nearly dropped it. A jolt of fear raced through my body as I held it out. *He wouldn't harm me would he? * I looked through the transparent yellow oil and swirled it a bit. *It looks the same.* I removed the cap and sniffed carefully. It had the same pleasing floral scent. *What is he up to this time?* I decided to ignore his practical joke and poured some into to tub. Just a little. *He is not going to get to me! *

I sank lower into the tub, luxuriating in its comfort while wondering what was up with the altered label. After a while and nothing untoward happened, I reached over to pour more oil in. That's when I saw it. My hasty retreat out of the water caused waves to slosh undulating back and forth and onto the floor. Gathering my wits, I peered down into the water, unbelieving. *How did that Sithspawn do that?*

There, on the bottom of the tub were two crossed red lightsabers.

I reached in hesitantly and scraped at it with my fingernail. It did not come off.

I paced back and forth, first angry, then scared, then angry again. *He has gone to far! Just who does he think he is? Does he think he owns me or something? What is this supposed to mean? He's marking his territory like some animal?*

I steeled myself deciding I would finished my bath regardless and when I was done call the constable and have a restraining order issued against Jahan.

Easing myself back into the tub, I couldn't relax for no matter which way I positioned myself, one of those lightsabers were directed crudely at me. I got out, let the water out and watched to see if the design would disappear with the liquid. It remained. Toweling off, I donned my robe and strode to the comm system.

It was blinking.

I paced back and forth. I knew who it was.

I knew which side of the family Trave got his curiosity and it wasn't my husband's. I was just delaying the inevitable, I knew I wouldn't erase the message without listening to it first. I stabbed the button on.

There was that idiotic *shavit*-eating grin again.

"X marks the spot. Save some hot water for me when I get back!"

I threw the comm unit receiver against the wall and then realized that I now couldn't call the constable. *Stang! *

I went to bed that night checking everything first for any markings of Jahan.

***

"Come on boys, let's go!"

I would have to go all the way to Portam Settlement to replace the receiver. The comm unit would be able to take messages, but I couldn't hear or send any without the receiver I had smashed. We were also going to spend the day shopping for items not available in our small town.

I cut the day short wishing to return and plug in the new receiver.

Putting Jahan's new hat down on the counter, I installed the new receiver and stepped back to watch for the blinking light indicating there was a message waiting. Nothing. I rechecked the connection. Still nothing. I re-rechecked the connection. Still nothing again.

Anxiously, I made dinner keeping an eye on the comm system while still carefully checking items for the mark of Jahan. We ate dinner in silence.

The comm system buzzed.

I nearly tripped over my chair in my rush to answer it.

"No, Constable, everything's fine here. No trouble," I answered. "Um, you haven't heard from Jahan today have you?" I turned my back to my boys. "No? No, that's fine. Goodbye."

I sat back down at the table.

"I hope Jahan's okay," Dimon stated.

"I'm sure he's fine," I stated trying to assuage my son's worries.

I fell asleep on the divan. My bedroom was too far from the comm system.

***

The comm system buzzed.

When I answered it, I realized it was a real-time communication via the holonet. The small hologram greeting me wasn't Jahan, but Braid Beard, and a moment of fear rushed through me. I was scared not only because it wasn't Jahan, but also because real-time messages were very expensive. The last time I had received one of these, it was to inform me of the death of my husband. Something dreadful must have happened to Jahan.

But Braid Beard was smiling broadly. A little too broadly. From apparently a little too much lum. "Jahan wants to know, the left side or the right?"

"What?" I asked.

Braid Beard tried again, "The left side or the right?"

"The left or right of what?" I asked him.

Braid Beard turned around and yelled into the unseen background, "She wants to know the left or right of what?"

I couldn't hear the response, but Braid Beard turned back to me and said, "Jahan says you'll find out later, just pick, left or right."

*Why do I put up with this garbage?* I fumed to myself. Wanting whatever this was over with, I picked, "Left." I drummed my fingers in irritation while thinking that had I said ‘both' or ‘neither' somehow that infuriating man would turn the tables on me.

Braid Beard yelled back, "She says left!"

This time I heard Jahan's howling response. I punched the comm off in a fury.

***

"But Jahan's coming back today," Trave protested.

"Just get into the landspeeder," I tried not to hiss at my youngest. "I want to visit with your grandmother today."

That will fix him. I just won't be home when he gets back.

The house was dark when we returned.

The comm system message light was not.

"Something came up," Jahan stated. "I'll be delayed a few days."

The house was dark when we returned.

The comm system message light was not.

"Something came up," Jahan stated. "I'll be delayed a few days."

***

I was having a wonderful time. The Red Shift was the finest restaurant in Portam Settlement and the company was even finer.

I had met him in our town while food shopping yesterday and we had begun to talk. New to our planet, he was scouting around looking for just the right place to settle down. He was intelligent, cultured and very handsome. When he had asked me out, I naturally said yes and it wasn't just to establish to Jahan that I wasn't sitting around the house waiting for him to return. This was the type of man I preferred.

I had left Dimon, Trave and Nomi over my friend, Yasilla's house for the evening. My gentleman friend and I had traveled to Portam to see a holodrama and then go to dinner.

He was a fascinating conversationalist and had a dry wit. It seems we both had attended the same University on Alderaan and had both taken cell biology from the same professor. We both laughed at her fixation on calcium.

We had just finished dinner, sitting there enjoying each other's company and the Alderaani wine, which I adored, when my comm link went off. Thinking it was Yasilla calling about my boys, I answered it at the table.

"Where are you?" Jahan demanded.

"Excuse me," I said to my date as I slipped from the table and walked towards the ladies refresher station.

Once inside, I answered Jahan. "None of your business!"

"Come home immediately!" he commanded. "Alone!"

"How dare you!" I countered. "You don't own me!"

"Listen . . ." he started to say as I switched the comm link off. *That should put him in his place,* I thought to myself with satisfaction as I returned to the table.

"Anything wrong?" my gentleman friend inquired with concern in his voice as I eased back into my seat.

"Oh, nothing," I dismissed. "Just a friend."

"Not a boyfriend, I hope," he smiled at me.

"No." I shook my head. "Nothing like that." *Oh, he is interested.*

"So," he said folding his hands on the table and looking into my eyes with those deep brown ones of his. "Talking about Alderaan, how did you like Orowood forest? Beautiful, isn't it?"

I blushed. "How did you know I had gone there? It's on the other side of Alderaan from the University."

He laughed in a deep timbre. "Be on Alderaan and not visit Orowood forest?"

I laughed along with him. *Of course, who wouldn't?*

He picked up his glass of wine. "A toast, to Orowood forest. I'm only sorry I didn't see it adorned with your beauty."

Our glasses made a pleasant ting together and he sipped while looking over the rim of his glass at me. *He can't take his eyes off of me! *

"More wine?" he inquired politely as he picked up the bottle.

I put my hand over the top of my glass. "No, thank you. It's excellent, but it wouldn't be very ladylike to get drunk on your first date." *Hint, hint, hint. I want there to be a second one.*

"Excuse me, Madam," the waiter stated in a cultured voice. "There is a call for you."

I had completely shut off my comm link and thinking perhaps this time it was Yasilla with an urgent message about my children, I rose, excused myself and followed the waiter to the restaurant's comm system.

It wasn't. "Don'thanguponme," was all he managed before I did.

I calmed myself. Jahan was beginning to scare me and I was starting to feel flushed and hot. *I should have called the Jedi council or the constable.*

"Are you sure everything is all right?" he asked putting his hand on mine once I returned to our table.

"Yes," I lied. "Just a practical joker of a friend."

"If someone is bothering you . . ." he implied.

*Oh, he's protective. I like, I like.* "No," I lied again. I picked up my glass and took another sip noticing he had filled it while I was gone.

"What if I handle the next call?" he offered.

*Oh, the take charge type. I really like.* I was beginning to feel giddy. "I would like that," I said.

"Consider it done," he answered.

" Madam?" the waiter cautiously interrupted again. "You have another message."

"I'll take it." My date half rose out of his seat.

Shifting uncomfortable on his feet, the waiter stated, "I was instructed to give this message to you personally."

We both looked at him with curious disbelief.

"I was told to tell you." The waiter took a deep breath. "Jedi Knight, Jahan Fornax, orders you not to leave."

My date blanched and I felt like melting under the table.

"Thank you," I said weakly, dismissing the waiter. *Why me? Why has he picked me to torture? First, it's come home immediately, then it's don't leave. If he's trying to drive me crazy he's succeeding.*

"Another practical joke," my date asked visibly shaken. "I hope?"

"I wish it was," I answered with my head reeling.

"Finish your drink," he suggested. "And we'll go."

***

*Oh, my head hurts.* I opened my eyes staring at a strange ceiling. Wher e am I? I tried to sit up. *Ow, everything hurts. What happened? Where am I?* I looked around the room. *I'm in a hotel room, a very cheap hotel room. Okay, try to think. How did I get here? And why am I bruised everywhere? Was I in a speeder accident?*

I touched my sore face. *Mirror, where's a mirror?* I moved my feet to the edge of the bed intending to find one.

I looked down at the clothes I was wearing. *This is Jahan's tunic! Huh? Where are my clothes? Oh, no, please don't let this be what I think it is.* I rose to my feet. "Ow!" I yelped.

The door opened and Jahan walked in wearing his hooded cloak over just his leggings and boots while carrying two cups of caf. "Good afternoon," he stated while holding out one of the cups out to me.

"What have you done to me?" I yelled at him as I reached for the comm system. "I'm calling the . . ." The air shimmered as Jahan Force-hurled the comm against the wall, smashing it into shards of plastic and metal to fall into a heap on the floor below the dent in the wall where it had impacted.

"No," he stated firmly. "This time you are going to listen to me."

"Leave me alone." I was scared of of my wits and hugged the sheet of the bed close against me. "When the council finds out . . ."

"Shut up." He held out the cup of caf out to me again. "Take it. I'm not going to hold it all day." I did as instructed. "Well, it seems you can listen to me after all." He laughed grimly.

He pulled up a chair and straddling it sat down, staring at me while taking careful sips of the hot brew. As I did the same, I winced as the liquid seared into the gashes on the inside of my mouth.

"What is the most important thing in your life?" he questioned me.

*Huh? *

"Speak!"

"My . . . children," I said. *Oh, no ,what has he done to Trave and Dimon?*

"You trust me teach your children, yet you won't listen to me yourself."

"I am not a child," I reminded him.

He ignored what I said. "In a few years, your children, the most important things in your life, will be the most dangerous creatures in the galaxy and yet you allow me to train them and . . . you . . . don't listen to me."

"Dangerous?" I asked. "My children?"

"Yes, dangerous," he stated taking another sip from his cup. "Young males with Force abilities."

"My children aren't evil."

"No, they're not," he agreed. "However, they are children. And children often do things without thinking about the consequences to others, thinking only about themselves. Not all, but many. Once they hit puberty, they start to defy authority. Why do you think Jedi apprenticeships are so long? It isn't just because of the time necessary to gain some sense of and control over your Force abilities." Jahan shook his head. "It is also to get them past that age and into their young adulthood so they can see beyond themselves and make better decisions."

"Is that why you beat me up?" I asked daring to taunt him. "To show me how dangerous you are? So I listen to you?"

"Do you really think I did that to you?" Deep hurt came over his face dimming his bright eyes.

"If you didn't . . ." I didn't finish realizing what had actually happened.

"And yes, to me you are a child," he said. "It may sound arrogant, but I can't help it. I don't know how you manage to get through life without sensing the Force."

"Most people do."

"Couldn't you feel the evil in him?" Jahan stated incredulously. " I could hardly get into the front door of the house." He shuddered. "His . . . mark in the Force." He shuddered again. "It disturbed the Force with contamination - dark, muddy, and ugly. I could hardly stand it."

"No," I admitted.

"Well, the Force was with you," he said. "That . . . that Sithspawn decided to play rough with you first, before . . . before. . ." He paused. "I had a hard time finding you in this large city. I got here just in time."

"Thank you." I hung my head.

"Well, anyway," Jahan said as he downed the remains of his caf. "I spent the night ridding you of the drug he gave you. You had enough in you to knock out a bantha. I almost lost you." He rose. "I'll take you home," he said without any warmth in his voice.

Riding home on his swoop was cold. My clothes had been torn to shreds and Jahan gave me his cloak to wear as well as the tunic he had put on me. If he was cold, wearing nothing other than his leggings and boots for he had come looking for me in full Jedi regalia rather than his nerf hide jacket, he didn't complain.

After a few minutes, I put my arms hesitantly around him, feeling bad that that I was warmer than he was. He sat there stiffly for a moment and then shrugged his back. I took the hint and released him, sitting there without touching for the rest of the ride home. I never felt so cold in all my life.

We walked around to the back door of the house.

"I called your mother. She has Trave and Dimon for a couple of days," he stated as he keyed the lock on the door. "It will take me a few days to heal you. I don't want them to see you like this."

I walked in behind him. My jaw dropped.

Red flowers. Everywhere. Hundreds. My house was awash in a sea of red flowers. The scent was almost over powering. The bottle of bath oil came to my mind. *Essence of Jahan. This must have cost a fortune!*

"The something that came up was a side job," Jahan explained. "We were hired on at a construction site."

"Construction?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said. "It was a dangerous site, quite a few of the workers were getting hurt, and we were hired on to prevent accidents, security, lifting heavy objects that sort of thing. It paid pretty decent."

"You shouldn't have," I stated looking around in amazement.

"Tell me something I don't know," he said coldly. "Now, before I start healing you, take a bath, you reek of him." He wrinkled up his nose.

As I filled the tub, I watched the crossed lightsabers emblem being covered with the water. It somehow was no longer menacing and yet it wasn't comforting either. I felt guilty, sad and confused. *What do I care what he thinks? I don't like him. Never did. Never will. He's just playing his mind games with me again. I won't fall for it. Make me love him indeed.*

I lowered myself into the water and forgoing the oil washed myself carefully while examining the myriad of bruises on my body.

"There, much better." He produced a small smile as I entered my room clean and in bedclothes. "At least now I can work on you without throwing up."

I laid down on the bed as he instructed.

"I'll bring you out of the healing trance in a few hours so you can eat," he said matter of factly as he placed his hand on my head.

***

"Hungry?" he stated.

"Yes," I replied.

"Well, then get up. It'll get cold."

We ate in silence for a while until I decided to break the ice. "What was that left or right side thing about?" I inquired.

" It doesn't matter now," he said, as he looked at me blankly. "I'll have it removed."

We finished our meal in silence.

***

I opened my eyes and Jahan removed his hand from my head.

"Feel better?" he asked.

I nodded.

"Good," he stated as he rose to his feet. "I'll go get Trave and Dimon. They're dying to see you." He walked a few steps to the door. "One more thing," he stated.

My heart raced with anticipation.

"Jahan the Jedi will stay and teach your children." He stared at me with his ice-cold eyes. "Jahan the man will leave you alone."

***

The constable called during breakfast. The tension in the air the past few days had been palpable, but we were civil to each other for the children's sake. I knew they noticed, but they hadn't said anything. I was in a paradox of emotions. I didn't like this and I hadn't like what had been going on before. I didn't know what I wanted. *I want him gone, but that means Trave and Dimon would be gone, too.*

Jahan flipped the holoprojector on which my husband rarely had done preferring just to listen to the officer's voice instead. We sat watching the small wavering figure as we ate.

"Jahan, the reward credits for one of your captures has just been processed and released. You know how long these things take. I need to know were to send it."

My ears suddenly perked up now listening with more interest. *Reward credits? What reward credits?*

"Continue sending them to the same place they were sent before," Jahan stated as he looked to me for confirmation.

*Before?* I thought to myself. *My husband received reward money? *

As I managed the household's accounts, if there was any money incoming or outgoing, I certainly would know about it. Confusion and small doubts about my husband's fealty edged into my mind, as well as thoughts how an increased cash flow could benefit my family such as new harvester droids.

The constable hesitated. "Um, Jahan? That account is closed."

"Closed?" Jahan repeated. "The Temple account is closed?"

"They weren't sent to a Temple account."

"Oh," said Jahan. "Nonetheless, send mine to the Temple."

"Constable," I spoke out loud now. "My husband received reward credits? Where were they sent?"

"I don't know. It was a numbered account," the constable stated with a tone that indicated that I should have known. "There are a few of your husband's that have yet to be finished processing. Do you want me to send them to you instead?"

"How much?" I asked, fearing I sounded like Trave at this revelation.

The constable listed three cases and the amounts. I gasped.

"How often did this occur?" I continued in my interrogation of the law enforcement officer.

"Oh," the constable looked deep in thought calculating. "About two or three a month."

I now did the math. The reward income nearly surpassed that of the groves.

Jahan broke in speaking with authority. "No, Constable, send it to the Temple and send mine there as well."

"Are you sure Jahan?" the constable raised his eyebrows in question. "It is your money after all or I could just send a percentage."

"I am sure," Jahan affirmed with finality.

After the constable's image had faded from view, Jahan split his gaze between my two boys looking from one to other and then locked onto Dimon's eyes. "Dimon?" he asked.

Dimon thought for a moment. "Um, the reward money was earned by your training from the Temple?" Jahan nodded in agreement. More confident, Dimon continued, "Therefore, the money should go to the Temple since without them you wouldn't have been able to . . ."

"No, Dimon! You're wrong!" Trave exclaimed.

Jahan gave him a stern look admonishing his rude outburst.

"Sorry," Trave apologized contritely.

"For what?" Jahan enlisted.

"I'm sorry for being rude to my brother," Trave explained. "And everyone else."

Jahan nodded his head in confirmation. "Now, how is your brother in error?"

Center stage spotlight, Trave squared his shoulders. "We are the Temple. It's not a building, but a living thing. The Jedi are the Temple."

Jahan beamed proudly. "Very good. Now, we've explained why it rightfully goes to the Temple coffers, but now, why shouldn't we keep it?"

My sons looked confused. "Isn't that the same question?" Trave asked.

Illumination came over Dimon's face. "No, the Force has two sides, the light and the dark. It would be wrong to keep the money since it would be selfish."

"Good," praised Jahan. "If we really needed the money, that would not have been wrong. Why don't we need it?"

"We've got food, clothes, a nice house," Dimon listed on his fingers wanting to make such he included everything for which he was grateful. "Mom."

We smiled at each other.

"And you, Jahan," Dimon added at the end.

"Thank you, Dimon," Jahan warmly responded.

Even after all this, I couldn't help myself. "But we could use a few new harvester droids, it would make your life easier."

It was the first time Jahan looked at me with disgust. I felt like a child and I wanted to take the words back, hide under the table, anything, something, to avoid the look on his face. I had just undermined all his careful groundwork with the children.

As Jahan and my sons continued to stare at me, I looked deep into my cup of caf. *Think, you idiot, think.* I wished my husband was there to save me from this humiliation. His picture came to my mind. He was wearing that hat of his working in the shed. *Working in the shed!*

"The Temple taught you to fix droids also," I stated with conviction as I raised my head.

"Correct," Jahan nodded his head and then looked at my two boys. "And they will need the money to teach the next generation of Jedi."

I had the strange feeling of being glad I had pleased Jahan while wondering where my husband's money had gone. *Knowing him he probably set up accounts for the boys or was going to surprise me with something very nice like a vacation to Alderaan.*

***

With early spring, came the arrival of the aliens.

As many of the farms in the surrounding area grew hapath, the low market value of the vegetable did not make it cost effective to purchase and maintain droids. Thus, every spring off-world harvesters would arrive and so would the constable's problems.

It wasn't the aliens themselves. It was the age old problem of different cultures mixing and the problems inherent in the misunderstandings that arise. That and the poverty. When daily facing a grim life of hard labor, the small monetary rewards that they receive sometimes are exchanged for large celebrations.

While the spring wasn't nearly as busy in the groves as during fall, there was still much to do, It wasn't nearly as time sensitive as the fall harvest, but it was harder. Jahan was kept busy both by the trees and the constable.

Jahan had kept his promise of leaving me alone, retreating into the workout room in the evening either to make use of the equipment or to meditate. He had the odd habit of hovering mid-air cross-legged while he did this. It was unnerving, but I didn't say anything.

The sun had already risen and Jahan hadn't even stepped into the house yet, when the comm system was buzzing again.

"Don't go," I pleaded with him. "Get some sleep."

His ice-blue eyes were flame. "I don't need you telling me what to do!"

"I'm sorry," I apologized. "I didn't mean . . ."

I was cut off by the salty, musky scent and the feel of warm, khaki-colored clothes. I think he needed the hug more than I did.

"I have to," he said.

Jahan hurried out the door and I fell asleep on the divan as I waited for him to return.

I woke up finding myself checking to see if his lightsaber was recharging in the receptacle. I was relieved to find it was not. He hadn't had to use it last night.

***

The weather had been favorable for the hapath harvest and Jahan's trips to town were frequent. I now spent most nights waiting for him to return.

The door opened and I knew immediately something was wrong.

He sat down on the edge of the divan, staring at his hands. "I killed a man tonight." I sat down next to him. "He had taken a woman hostage and was holding a blaster to her head. He just wouldn't let her go. Jedi compulsion wasn't working on him and he wouldn't listen to reason."

He sat quiet for a long time.

"I've never killed anyone before." He shook his head. "I mean I've killed before. But those were . . . different. Riots, civil wars . . . He just wouldn't let her go."

"I'm so sorry," I said softly.

"I foresaw he was about to fire and I reached out with the Force and killed him. Broke his neck . . . and killed him." He put his head on my shoulder and didn't move for long minutes as I stroked his hair.

"I need to be alone," he said as he stood and walked towards the workout room.

I fell asleep to the sounds of Jahan's fists pounding.

***

When the speeder bike was gone the next night, I assumed the constable had called and I just hadn't heard it. But then I did.

"No, Constable, I thought he was with you." I shook my head even though he couldn't see it. "I'm sorry, I don't know where he is."

I didn't get any sleep that night.

The Jedi in the constable's landspeeder was drunk.

Wavering unsteadily, Jahan managed to focus on me long enough for recognition. "I'm in the agri-corps!" he said brightly.

"I didn't know they could get sloshed," the constable said, as I helped him haul Jahan into the house. "Your husband never did."

"Tallgrain!" Jahan interjected. "We need to plant . . ." He lost his train of thought for a moment. ". . . need to plant . . . tailgram." He laughed. "Tall, tall, tallgrain!"

"Jahan is not a ‘they', he is human. And just because he is a Jedi doesn't make him a clone of my husband," I snapped at the constable.

"Groats!" Jahan said obviously thinking it was a genius of a statement. "Can't have a farm with . . . out . . . groats!" He laughed in an uproar over his own statement.

"I'm sorry," the constable said. "Jahan has been a great help to me."

"Nerfs!" Jahan had another brilliant idea. "A biiigggg . . . huuuugggge . . ." He spread his arms out wide. "Herd of nergs . . . nerfs, nerfs, nerfs!"

"Isn't it about time the town thought about *hiring* you some help?' I suggested strongly.

"Jahan Fornax, nerf herder!" He passed out.

***

I hoped the constable wouldn't call tonight.

The chair was large, overstuffed, clearly the most comfortable in the room and very much new. Jahan Fornax sat down facing a poster of the Devaron Novas.

The constable's call came, and Jahan rushed towards the door. He then stopped, put his hand over his behind, wiggled his fingers over his equally gyrating butt and announced, "You lose!"

I lost it.

I started throwing everything I could get my hands on in his direction.

"Oooooouuuuuuuwwwww!"

***

My boys had stolen Jahan's leg again.

Hopping on his one remaining limb towards the breakfast table, he asked, "Has anyone seen my leg?"

It was a little game the three males in my house played. He knew they knew and they knew he knew. All pretended otherwise.

"No," Dimon stated keeping his face straight.

"No, Jahan," Trave said. He was getting better at this and he hadn't broken out into a fit of giggles yet.

"I could have sworn, I left it by my bed last night." He scratched his head. "Have you seen it?" he asked me.

I wasn't about to play this inane game and I rolled my eyes.

"Maybe, Nomi took it!" Dimon offered.

This pushed Trave over the edge and the giggles poured out.

"You!" Jahan accused. "You took it! Didn't you?" He started hopping towards Trave who escaped from the table to run from the room.

*Why me? Why, why, why? What did I ever do to deserve this?* I was sure I was the only woman in the galaxy that ate breakfast while a one-legged Jedi chased her son around the house. *I need a vacation.* I thought of Alderaan and then the reward credits sent to the yet undiscovered account. I was determined to find out about it, but so far my efforts had been fruitless.

***

Dimon and Trave both had fields trips with their school. Dimon was going to be gone a week while my youngest was only to be gone for two days returning tomorrow morning.

Jahan emerged from the workout room with a sheen of sweat covering his body. He walked over to the chiller, removed a bottle of lum and walked towards his chair. *He's strutting!*

Since his return from swoop week on Tonaday, this was the first time I had seen him wearing nothing but a pair of shorts. I knew he wanted me to look, but I could not help myself. There wasn't a visible new tattoo. This meant only one thing. I admit I was curious, but not that curious. *I wonder what it is?*

Jahan sat down and caressed the buttery-soft nerf hide arms of his chair. I mentally kicked myself. *Why had I bought it? The old one was still perfectly good. What do I care that he didn't sit in it?*

Jahan pushed himself back to recline and wiggled his feet back and forth. "I'm loved!" he effused.

"I don't love you!"

"Yes, you do!" he answered.

"No, I don't!"

"Yes, you doooo!"

This was getting ridiculous. He was acting like a child and I was letting him draw me into it. "Just because I bought you a chair, doesn't mean I love you."

"And a poster!" he added.

My blood pressure was rising since I had no response for that because finding the Devaron Novas poster had been difficult. They were not a popular team and tracking one down had taken considerable effort on my part. Once I am determined to do something though, little can stop me.

"I'm loved!" he said again.

I blew a gasket. "I don't love you! I don't even like you! You are insufferable!" I ranted. "I love . . . loved my husband! You are nothing like him!"

His face became serious. "I am just like him."

I could not believe my ears. "How can you say that! You are the complete opposite of him."

"I'm exactly the same in things that matter." He rose to get another bottle of lum and strutted back with two. Handing me one, he turned around. I don't know what made me do it, nevertheless I did. I pulled his shorts down.

I blew a gasket. "I don't love you! I don't even like you! You are insufferable!" I ranted. "I love . . . loved my husband! You are nothing like him!"

His face became serious. "I am just like him."

I could not believe my ears. "How can you say that! You are the complete opposite of him."

"I'm exactly the same in things that matter." He rose to get another bottle of lum and strutted back with two. Handing me one, he turned around. I don't know what made me do it, nevertheless I did. I pulled his shorts down.

Revealed on his rear was a tattoo of himself embracing me tightly to him with one arm and holding his lightsaber out with the other. Against his pale skin the colors were vibrant and the artwork was beautiful. The pictures on the covers of the novels only women read came to my mind. It was so romantic and realistic, I had to touch it.

Lost in the moment, it took me several moments the realize that he hadn't howled at my touch or made some other typical Jahan statement.

I then got mad at him. "Is that how you view me, weak and helpless?"

He pulled up his shorts and turned around to face me. "No, loving and trusting. When you love someone, you do it with all your heart and trust them completely. You're exactly the type of woman I want and need."

"Well, I don't want or need you," I said coldly.

He walked back to his chair, sat down and reclined back. He sat for a awhile sipping his brew. "I'll wait until you do."

"I thought you said you were going to leave me alone and have it removed," I reminded him.

"You don't want me to," he said as he turned on the holovision.

"Yes, I do."

Jahan said nothing.

"Besides," I added. "It's on the right not the left like I said."

Jahan turned to look at me with that stupid smile. "And I told you not to name the hound Nomi."

"You . . . you," I sputtered. I sat back crossing my arms across my chest. "You did that on purpose," I accused. "You knew I would. I suppose now we're even."

"No, we're not," he gibed in a juvenile sing-song voice. "You didn't care which side, left or right. But you do hate the name Nomi."

I sat there fuming as he rose from his seat and disappeared into his room. He shortly returned to his seat carrying something in this hand. Carefully unwrapping the opaque paper, he held it under the light of the glowlamp.

"Spice?" I asked him shocked. "You brought drugs into my house?"

He continued to poke at the crystals with the tip of one of his fingers exposing the photoreactive gliterstrim to the light. "It isn't mine."

"Oh," I said sarcastically. "Then I suppose it's Nomi's"

He turned his head towards me. "I was cleaning out the room where your husband kept his reenactment gear. Apparently, he wasn't as much of a nerf herder as I thought."

My head was spinning. I couldn't think fast enough and didn't know what to respond to first. He was cleaning out a room I didn't want him to touch, he thought my husband was boring and he was accusing him of being a glit-biter .

"You're lying," I stated.

"Oh?" He raised his eyebrows. "And just what do you think they do around the campfires at night after their battles? Just tell ballads and sing songs?"

"And how would you know?" I inquired.

He placed the paper carefully onto the table, removed a few of the fibrous crystals and put them into his mouth. He reclined back and chewed slowly for a moment. "I've been to their Sithic War on Penn's planet."

The Sithic War was waged each year and my husband never failed to go for it was the big event for the reenactors. The Jedi and the Sith portrayers would battle in a week long event and the loser would gain control of the planet. Apparently, Penn's planet was a prize to be fought hard against gaining control over.

"I don't want you cleaning that room out," I stated now also concerned what else he would find as well as not wanting any of my husband's mementos disturbed or thrown out.

Jahan's eyes began to dilate and glaze over as the spice began to take aff ect. A small smile stayed glued on his face. The image of my husband looking the same way entered my mind. It was an uncomfortable revelation about the man I deemed so noble and moral. *No, not my husband. Jahan must be lying or there is some other explanation. I'll find out just like I'll discover what happened to that numbered account. I'll prove him wrong.*

"I need the room to teach Dimon and Trave katas," Jahan uttered slowly.

"I don't think I want you teaching Dimon and Trave anything, now," I said glaring at him.

"Like you've never chewed spice," he said as he handed the paper over to me. "And I suppose all you did at the University on Alderaan was study and attend classes?"

The holoprogram that night was the funniest I had seen in years and it wasn't even a comedy.

***

By the time I entered the room where Trave was helping Jahan sort through my husband's reenactment gear, they had already hauled the portable disintegrator in and were arranging items into piles for my inspection. Jahan looked strangely paler and nervous.

"Look, Jahan!" Trave stated excitedly. "Another holoprojector. Can I throw this one into the disintegrator, too?"

"What!" I yelled. I grabbed the small device from my son's hands. "You've been disintegrating my husband's messages?" I had treasured each and every one he had sent to me.

"Good idea, Trave," Jahan said, looking suddenly much paler and nervous. "We need to clear this junk out. Throw it in."

Yes, it was a good idea. "Good idea, Trave," I agreed. "We need to clear this junk out. Throw it in."

"You used Jedi compulsion on mom!" Trave accused. "Why did you do that Jahan? You said we where never to do that."

I shook my head to clear it. "How dare you! If I want to see my husband's message to me, I will. It's none of your business."

"Don't," Jahan pleaded with me. He walked forward with his hand out-stretched toward the small holoprojector. "Let the dead rest in peace."

I held my finger over the button.

"Don't," Jahan repeated. "Please listen to me this time."

I stabbed the button down.

When the small image formed, my world shattered.

"Don't," Jahan pleaded with me. He walked forward with his hand out-stretched toward the small holoprojector. "Let the dead rest in peace."

I held my finger over the button.

"Don't," Jahan repeated. "Please listen to me this time."

I stabbed the button down.

When the small image formed, my world shattered.

Dressed in Sith War era clothing, the smiling woman was holding her dark-haired little girl's hand. "Darling, got your message. We miss you, too. Can't wait to see you again. Every minute is an eternity. Hurry back. Hugs and kisses." The image then faded.

"I'm so sorry . . ." Jahan said softly, as I started weeping uncontrollably.

"Mom?" Trave asked with concern. "What's the matter, mom? Who was that, mom? Mommy, why are you crying? Mom?" He broke out into tears with me.

Jahan gathered the two of us into his arms.

"No," I denied. "No, no, no, no, no, no." As my knees buckled under me, Jahan brought me down to the floor, holding me tight.

"Jahan?" Trave said through his tears. "What's the matter with mom? Why is she crying? Make her stop crying."

I couldn't breath and started gasping for air.

***

"Mom?" Trave said looking into my face intently. "Are you okay, mom?"

I stirred in my bed. "Yes, honey. Why wouldn't I be alright? Are you back so soon?"

Jahan was at the door to my room. "It's almost noon. We let you sleep in."

*Odd, I'm usually the first person up.* I sat up and felt dizzy.

"Trave?" Jahan asked. "Do you think you could get your mother a cup of caf?" Trave stayed by my side. "Now."

"How are you?" Jahan asked from his spot at the door. He looked very concerned. "How do you feel?"

"I feel fine, a little dizzy, but fine," I stated. "What happened?"

"Food poisoning," Jahan said. "You were very sick. I put you into a healing trance."

"I don't remember," I said as I put my hand to my head.

"You were in such pain, you asked me to erase the memories for you."

"I don't remember," I said, now very confused.

"Of course not." Jahan gave a small smile. "It was erased from your memory."

"Didn't you get sick also?" I asked.

Trave walked in carefully carrying a cup of caf trying not to spill it but not having much success. I took it gratefully from my son's hands.

"Um, no," Jahan said quickly and then turned to Trave. "Come on Trave, let's get to work on that kata."

***

That evening Jahan emerged from the workout room with a sheen of sweat covering his body. He walked over to the chiller, removed a bottle of lum and walked towards his chair. *He's strutting! *

Since his return from swoop week on Tonaday, this was the first time I had seen him wearing nothing but a pair of shorts. I knew he wanted me to look, but I could not help myself. There wasn't a visible new tattoo. This meant only one thing. It was hidden by his shorts. I admit I was curious, but not that curious. *I wonder what it is?*

Jahan sat down and caressed the buttery-soft nerf hide arms of his chair. I mentally kicked myself. *Why had I bought it? The old one was still perfectly good. What do I care that he didn't sit in it?*

Jahan pushed himself back to recline and wiggled his feet back and forth. "I'm loved!" he stated.

"I don't love you!"

"Yes, you do!" he answered.

"No, I don't!"

"Yes, you doooo!"

This was getting ridiculous. He was acting like a child and I was letting him draw me into it. "Just because I bought you a chair, doesn't mean I love you."

"And a poster!" he added.

My blood pressure was rising since I had no response for that because finding the Devaron Novas poster had been difficult. They were not a popular team and tracking one down had taken considerable effort on my part. Once I am determined to do something though, little can stop me.

"I'm loved!" he said again.

I blew a gasket. "I don't love you! I don't even like you! You are insufferable!" I ranted. "I love . . . loved my husband! You are nothing like him!"

His face became serious. "You're right, I'm nothing like him at all."

I could not believe my ears. I finally had the last word with this man.

The holoprogram that night was the worst I had ever seen.

***

Storm season was approaching and mother, being mother, worried about my sons and hauled them off with her. She did this every year, convinced her home was safer than mine. My husband and I had always put this time alone to good use and rarely emerged from our bedroom.

That day the storms started. As the lightning struck all around, hitting the trees primarily, Jahan watched with fascination at the light show outside the window. I joined him, entranced briefly by the spectacle. As the storm continued, I grew bored having witnessed this every year and sat on the divan to catch up on my reading.

"How long do the storms last?" Jahan asked. Bursts of light in staccato, outlined his form in succession.

"Six weeks," I replied.

"Yes, but how long does each storm last?" He half-turned to me.

"Six weeks." I laughed. "There are breaks, but sometimes it seems as if it is one continuous storm. Everything comes to a standstill for the duration."

"So, it's like being snow-bound?" he added as he turned back to the window.

"That would be a good analogy," I said. "At least you'll be getting a vacation. The constable won't call."

"Perhaps," Jahan mused. "Trave and Dimon shouldn't have gone with your mother. That's a long break in their training. We could accomplish much in six weeks."

"They go every year. They love going over to her house." I rose to walk to the kitchen. "My husband thought it was a good idea," I called back as I opened the chiller.

" He was full of good ideas," Jahan said with a bite to his words. "I'm going to meditate."

Checking on Jahan once again, he was still hovering cross-legged in the air with his eyes closed. His features were peaceful and serene. When he had first came to live with us, I had found this habit of his to be disconcerting. I gazed at him for long moments watching the slow movements of chest give the only evidence of his connection to the corporal. The image of my children's angelic sleeping faces nudged themselves into my thoughts. I wondered if they would take up the same practice once they had sufficient mastery of the Force.

"We'll be over as soon as we can, Yasilla," I told her. "Yes, yes. See you soon." I hung up on my friend and hastened to Jahan's room.

"Jahan?" I inquired. His eyes fluttered. "Jahan?" I asked somewhat louder. He bright blue eyes opened and focused on me. He remained silent, but his face questioned my disturbance with his union with the Force as he floated down to the floor.

"There has been a break in the storm and Yasilla just called on the comm."

Jahan's eyes went wide. "No."

"Her fences are down."

"No." Fear washed over Jahan's once calm face.

"Her herd is loose."

Jahan's eyes went even wider. "No."

"She needs our help."

Jahan shook his head with vigor. "No. I won't do it."

"We have to help her round them up."

Jahan stood and started pacing like a caged animal. "No. I'll repair your droids." He looked a me with anguish. "I'll harvest your fruit." He resumed pacing. "I'll prune your trees." He stopped, examined the ceiling and then the floor. "But, I . . . will . . . NOT . . . herd . . . nerfs!" He looked at me with those wide eyes. "It's asking too much of me. I won't do it. And that's final."

Jahan stood and started pacing like a caged animal. "No. I'll repair your droids." He looked a me with anguish. "I'll harvest your fruit." He resumed pacing. "I'll prune your trees." He stopped, examined the ceiling and then the floor. "But, I . . . will . . . NOT . . . herd . . . nerfs!" He looked at me with those wide eyes. "It's asking too much of me. I won't do it. And that's final."

Returning from Yasilla's farm, we were a muddy mess.

Jahan held his tunic to his nose and wrinkled it up in disgust. "I even smell like them."

"I promise I won't tell anyone," I laughed.

"Better not," Jahan warned bringing down the corners of his mouth. "I've got a reputation to uphold."

We stood gazing at each other for a long moment. Jahan took the one step that separated us and taking my chin in his hand brought my lips to his. With his other arm he gathered me up close to his body and I wrapped my arms around him. It felt so good to be held.

He dropped his arm from my waist, took my hand and started leading me. "Come on," he said. "We both need a soak in the tub."

I dug my heels into the floor resisting forward motion.

"I'm not going to touch you." He gave a little tug. "I just want to spend some time with you."

"No," I said.

"Listen, if I had wanted to, there would have been no way for you to stop me," he stated without a hint of menace in his tone. "Why don't you trust me? Come on, we're both tired, sore and very dirty." He touched the end of my nose with one finger. Giving another tug, I stood firm.

"He's dead," Jahan said gently. "Let him go. Melt a little for me."

He didn't tug this time, but neither did I move.

"Fine." He dropped my hand. "I don't know why I keep trying. I refuse to beg. I'm going in the tub, if you want to join me, fine. If not . . ." He shrugged his shoulders indicating he didn't care and walked away.

"Fine." He dropped my hand. "I don't know why I keep trying. I refuse to beg. I'm going in the tub, if you want to join me, fine. If not . . ." He shrugged his shoulders indicating he didn't care and walked away.

I stood there utterly confused trying to sort through my feelings, options and possible outcomes. I made a snap decision and grabbed two bottles of lum.

Leaning back, his eyes were closed when I entered. As I put his bottle down on the edge by his head, he opened it. My hands trembled a bit with nervousness as I placed my bottle on the opposite side. His eyes followed my every move. He reached over to his bottle and opening it, took a swig.

"Close your eyes again," I instructed.

"I promised not to touch you," he stated. "I will look."

Dropping my gaze, I dropped my clothing and lowered myself into the swirling, warm water. Excitement joined my nervousness as I knew he was examining by body with keen interest.

Resuming his previous position, he tilted his head back and closed his eyes. "That didn't kill you, now, did it?"

I mirrored him, leaning back myself.

"Wash your hair, first," he stated making sound almost like a command.

Once I had rinsed my hair, he motioned for me to join him on his side of the tub. I sidled up next to him and he draped his arm around my shoulder. He made no other move and yet his body had responded making him ready.

I was anxious and yet he was so at ease. It was as if we had been lovers long used to the pleasures of each other's body and well past immediate gratification. Lovers content to enjoy the moment, knowing there was no hurry, no rush.

As the storm resumed outside, he motioned with his hand towards the bottle of bath oil and using the Force uncapped it and poured some of its fragrant amber-yellow contents.

Looking through the water for the lightsaber emblem, I could see a portion beneath our legs. "You know you scared me half out of my wits with that little stunt."

"I am truly sorry," he apologized as he took my chin in his other hand and gave me a small kiss. "I didn't mean to. It was a simple trick, really. One of my strengths with the Force is manipulation of matter. I sometimes forget how others might react."

With a particularly sharp crack of lightning, the power failed casting us into darkness. He took advantage of the situation and kissed me for long moments. I decided if he broke his promise I wouldn't mind.

"Glowlanterns? or candles?" he inquired as he pulled himself away.

"Behind us on the shelf," I informed him.

He twisted his torso around and the candles on the shelf followed the motions of his arm to settle around the edges of the tub. They ignited into flame, flickering in the darkness. He saw my forgotten bottle of lum and levitated towards me.

Once I had retrieved it from the air, Jahan settled back against the tub. "Don't be insulted, but I didn't want to come here. Run a tree farm? Train young children? Live in a house with people I don't know? Who every time they see me, they see a dead father, a dead husband? No, *that* wasn't the image I had of a Jedi."

I started to speak.

"No, no, wait, I'm not finished. It chafed. I felt like a replacement part for one of those *kriffing* harvester droids. Pull your husband out, plug Jahan in. I knew you were making the best of the situation, trying to make me feel comfortable, the chair and so on. To be sure, some of the things you did were the same things you did for your husband just with a fresh coat of paint, but others were for me especially. You never watched a Zoneball game before did you?"

"No," I admitted.

"Or ask you husband ‘Don't go' or ask the constable to hire help?"

"How do you know?"

"He wouldn't have needed it. I was overwhelmed."

"Slowly, I realized that you didn't view me as a replacement part for there was no part to replace, you hadn't finished burying your husband yet, you were doing slowly by degrees and *you* were uncomfortable."

I waited in silence for him to continue.

"And . . ." I conjugated.

"Like I said before, you're exactly the type of woman I want and need and I'll wait until you do, too."

"You never said that," I informed him.

He grimaced and shut his eyes tight. "If I haven't, I should have." As he rose from the water a towel floated in the air towards him. I could see the new addition to his collection of artistic adornments. He lowered the towel down since he knew I was gazing at it.

"Is that how you view me?" I asked in bewilderment. "Someone to love and protect?"

Tying the towel around his waist, he didn't turn around, but from the small movements of his chest I could tell that his face was no longer dry again. A towel was hovering in the air for me as he left the room.

Slipping into my bed, I pulled the covers over my body. Thoughts of Jahan weighed heavy and sleep was eluding me. I pondered going to Jahan's room, indecisive as that would permanently change our situation.

My door opened and silently he slid into my bed. Drawing himself near, he pulled my body to nestle into his. I could feel his response to my body beneath his sleeping clothes, yet he did nothing more than hug me tightly. Encased in his arms, I melted into him, molding my form against his. The soft sounds of his deep breaths of slumber against the back of my neck were that last things I remembered before I drifted off.

***

I woke up alone.

Feeling disappointed awakening to an empty bed, I rose, dressed and opened my door intending to start caf brewing and then some breakfast. I was greeted with the tantalizing aroma of morning meal preparations in progress.

Turning his face in my direction, he had a wide impish grin. "Morning."

"Smells delicious," I praised, as I poured myself a cup.

"That's just the beginning!" he effused with exaggerated pride. "Just wait until you taste it!" He bowed with a flourish. "Jahan Fornax, chef extraordinare, at your service." I swatted him on his rear for punishment. He howled.

Halfway through our meal, I hinted at my disappointment at his absence upon my awakening.

He looked at the end of his fork. "Um, mornings are too . . ." he trailed off.

I understood, unfortunately.

That night I was hugged closely to his warm body again, however I think I fell asleep before he did. I sadly woke up alone. I was disappointed every morning after that.

***

Jahan sat in his chair and unsuccessfully tried to turn on the holoprojector. The storm was interfering with the reception and nothing came on. Jahan pushed the chair upright and sat on the edge of it.

Not moving my head from my reading, I glanced over at him from the corners of my eyes. He was looking at me and I recognized that look. He stood and stretched. I kept my head down, returned my eyes to my reading and tried to keep from smiling. I knew what he had in mind, but I was wondering how this man was going to approach.

Jahan Fornax sat down on the divan, brought his feet over and behind me and laid down. I turned my head and now looked at him openly. He patted next to him inviting me to lay down. I have to admit I was a bit intrigued, but I returned to my reading, not moving.

I was reading, but the words were not making sense anymore since he continued to stare at me as the storm raged outside. I looked at him again and he patted the divan once more. He had that silly smile on his face. I rolled my eyes, put down my reading material and was starting to rise when two hands grabbed me and pulled me down.

I tried to resist by pushing him away from me with my hands, but he had me firmly in his grasp and I couldn't escape. Pulling me close to his body with one arm, he started groping me with the other. I fought harder, now seriously scared as he started kissing my face. "Get off of me! Leave me alone! You little . . ."

Thrusting his tongue deep into my mouth, he cut off my protestations. I soon relaxed and started enjoying the attention I was receiving and returned the favor holding his head in my hands.

Yet, he did not release his hold on me as I melted into his body. As his readiness became complete, he started slowly rocking against my body. I pushed up against him meeting his every thrust.

The Jedi on my divan was doing a fine impression of one of the spires of the Temple.

We sat up together and I started undressing him, starting with his tunic. Untying it at the sides, I unwrapped him from it. I traced my finger across the design on his right arm outlining the crossed crimson lightsabers. I indicated wordlessly that I wanted to see his other shoulder. He twisted his torso around presenting me with his left arm. I examined the artwork closely. It was exquisite in detail.

I ran my hands across the muscles of his smooth chest as he moaned in delight. His chest was a work of art as well. But not in two dimensions, it was a sculpture in three. It deserved no less and I traced the deep outlines there as well.

He had been barefoot around the house, so I started to tug down on his leggings and was rewarded with the sight of his excited state. I was a bit scared since the only other man I had known had been my husband. Trembling with that fear and the anticipation of the unknown, I pulled my dress over my head. He removed the remainder of my clothing to drop on the floor and caressed my body with his hands.

Pulling me down on to the divan, he supported himself with his arms keeping his body tantalizingly away from mine. Kissing my face, he again surprised me by slipping his tongue into my mouth. Wet with expectation, I widened the distance between my legs, inviting him in. To guide his entry, he grabbed hold of himself.

The naked Jedi, nearly in me, stopped.

"What is the matter?" I asked.

"I'm sorry." He shook his head, stood and hurriedly separated our clothing. "I can't. I mean I want to," Jahan said forcing the words out of his mouth. He closed his eyes tightly and his knuckles whitened in their grip of his clothing. "*Stang,* I want to. I want to *kriff* you right now. I just can't."

I slowly redressed myself as he retreated to his room.

***

The following day was clear and unseasonably hot. I found Jahan in the droid maintenance shed sitting on the stool working at the bench. Sweat was running down his bare back as the air circulation was poor in here.

I stood admiring his wide well-muscled back and reached out to touch it with my fingertips.

"Don't." He kept his back to me.

I turned on my heel and left. Walking back to the house, I heard the smashes of objects exploding against the inside walls of the shed.

***

Garren arrived with his Master and all conversation in the house stopped.

Which was just as well, for the Jedi in my house were talking shop. Or I assumed they were talking about things of the Force. Whenever my husband's family or friends came over and the house fell silent, I knew they were communicating telepathically. It didn't bother me, since they talked about things that would only interest a Jedi, just as the manufacturers of hyperdrives would talk about things that would only interest another hyperdrive maker.

It was wonderful seeing Garren again and I tried to lavish the love only a mother can give, but he was a teenager as well as a Jedi Padawan and he distanced himself from me. He was taking his new position seriously and the only time he smiled was when Jahan gave him his thumbs up approval of his hair, cut Padawan style.

Garren had just made his first lightsaber and was showing it to us trying to hide his pride. It was leaking through his serious demeanor.

He held this thumb over the ignition button. *Please, please, please, any color but red. It doesn't have to be yellow, just not red.* A bright green shaft extended. I smiled with pride. It was the color of his grandmother's weapon.

I don't think though the visit was for my or Garren's benefit though. After my son and his Master left, Jahan who had seemed so tired and distant lately, perked up.

I think the bird he found also helped.

The small, black and yellow sassalla was injured and Jahan, with Dimon and Trave, nursed it back to health. Intelligent for an avian, they can be taught to mimic human speech. Jahan and my sons taught the sassalla several phrases and if it wasn't perched on Jahan's shoulder it was on one of my sons'. The high-pitched trill of "May the Force be with you!" was now the most common sentence in our house.

***

"The races are next week," Dimon piped excitedly. "Are you going to take us, Jahan?"

"Races?" he inquired looking hopeful that this backwater of a planet had some excitement to it. "What races?"

"The Finals," Trave chimed in. "We go every year."

This was both true and false at the same time. My husband and the two older boys had gone every year, my youngest went for the first time last year. He was extrapolating what was true for his older brethren would also be reality for himself.

To his credit, as I handed him the four tickets purchased one year ago, Jahan kept his face from falling.

The groundspeeder races, although popular on this planet, were somewhat of an oddity, being based on such primitive technology. They, like the Sith War reenactments, had been a favorite pastime of my husband.

Jahan Fornax was trying to worm his way out it. "Maybe your mother will take you, I've got a lot of work to do here."

"Mom never goes," Dimon stated.

"But there are four tickets," Jahan countered.

"Garren," I stated, softly reminding him.

"Yes, of course," he realized. "I'll tell you what. No sense in wasting a ticket. You get your mother to go, I will too."

Two hopeful dark heads turned to me and one pale one that might as well have said, ‘ If I'm going to suffer, you are too.'

If he did suffer, he was a masochist, since after the race, four more tickets were purchased for next year's race.

***

My mother-in-law came to visit.

As I hadn't seen her since my husband's funeral at the Temple, we had much to catch up on and Jahan made himself scarce.

My youngest didn't. He was at that ‘look at me, no hands!' stage of life and everything in the house that wasn't securely fastened down was soon levitating across the room. For the most part. I wondered to myself if I would ever have a matching set of dishes again. I had lived through Garren's and Dimon's discovery of this aspect of the Force, I supposed I could do it one more time.

"He makes me uncomfortable," I told her.

"How so?" she asked.

"Look, Grandma," Trave implored from across the room as her mug of caf rose in the air. "No hands!"

"Very good, Trave," she praised. "Now put it back down without spilling it." She turned to me. "How does he act to make you uncomfortable?"

"Nothing. He is intelligent, considerate, trustworthy and gentle," I listed. "It's just that he's so eerie looking," I confided. "If he was another species, I would understand, but he's human."

"He's not here for you," she stated. "A farm you can run, with droids and hired help if need be. Jedi children, raise you cannot."

I liked my mother-in-law, but sometimes I thought she spent too much time listening to Master Yoda. "I know, I know." I nodded my head.

"May the Force be with you!" an avian voice trilled. Trave turned his head to look at the small bird perched on his shoulder. I knew what was going though his little mind. "Don't you dare," I warned him.

"Then why does it matter to you what he looks like?" she inquired with raised eyebrows. As usual, she had gotten to the heart of the problem.

"I feel sorry for him," I admitted. "He does most of the work around here, teaches Dimon and Trave, acts as the constable's deputy." I lowered my gaze. "He has all of the responsibilities my husband had, but none of the benefits."

"I see," she said. "You loved my son for the way he *looked."*

I brought my head up quickly. "No! He was . . ."

"All the things you just described about Jahan."

"Yes," I agreed.

"You are uncomfortable around him because you feel guilty. I have accepted my son's death. You haven't yet."

"Look, Grandma . . ."

"Besides," she continued. "I think he's cute in an exotic sort of way." She then winked at me.

***

The comm system buzzed during dinner and Jahan sat there.

"Yes, Constable, he's here," I said, while staring at the still eating Jahan.

Jahan eased out of his chair and answered the call. "Sounds good," he said. "See you after dinner." Sitting back down, he resumed eating his dinner. My two boys stared at him. Pausing his fork, Jahan said, "They have a weekly sabacc game at the Dall farm. Didn't your father ever go?" Trave and Dimon shook their heads.

*He was never asked,* I thought to myself.

***

The pile of clothes in front of me was daunting. *How can two small boys go through so many clothes?* I picked up one tunic, larger than the others. Looking around, I then held it to my face and breathed deep. Holding it out I noticed the hole. *He can't wear this one anymore.*

Making my way to my room, I carried my pile of freshly laundered clothing and put them away. I stuffed the tunic in my top drawer and started to exit the room. I stopped, turned and emptied the left side of the wardrobe.

I spent the next several days altering khaki-colored tunics, leggings and hooded cloaks.

***

Awaking in the middle of the night, I padded my thirsty way to the kitchen. Hearing the sound of the holoprojector, I walked toward it instead. Before I could enter the room, the sound ceased. He had left the room and almost made it into his.

"Good night," I said to his back.

He replied the same with turning around and as the door closed behind him.

Curious, I turned the holoprojector back on. I had to tilt my head as the camera angle was oddly canted. My eyes widened. The two subjects on which the holocam was focused were obviously having a very good night.

***

I waited until my boys left the breakfast table to attend to their chores and I busied myself clearing the table.

"You aren't chained here," I said. "If you ever want to go into town . . ."

"There is nothing I need in town." He rose from the table, walked to the door, paused and then left.

Now when my husband had been alive and when we had made love, he would read my thoughts and feeling and likewise share his with me. It was a wonderful, sensual experience entwining our bodies and minds together and it brought the two of us closer together. But always I had known he was in my mind for his thoughts came strongly.

So, when Jahan paused at the door, I wasn't positive it was him or my own wishful thinking since it was so soft. For what I heard was - <Everything I need is here>

***

Jahan had started taking Dimon, now eleven, into town when the constable called. Apparently the problems in town had been quickly solved and the sound of the returning speeder bike reached my ears. I had long ago stopped witnessing its arrival.

Jahan's favorite method of parking, much to my sons' delight, was swinging the bike sideways into the side of the house, repulsing off the wall momentarily until it slid back down to hover off the ground once again.

I waited for them to enter the house and Dimon to excitedly relate their experiences. I waited much longer than it usually took Dimon to burst into the house. Curious, I looked outside. Pale Jahan stood holding his helmet under his arm deeply engaged in conversation with Dimon still on the saddle of the bike.

When Dimon walked in, it was with Jahan and he immediately excused himself to bed.

Jahan I knew would be hungry and I had a plate of food ready at the table as he sat down. Actually, I had two plates, the other being for my middle child which I stood holding pondering whether to put it away or eat it myself. I joined Jahan.

"What were you two talking about?" I asked.

"The constable had an interesting problem tonight and Dimon started asking questions, so we had a talk."

"About?" I inquired.

"It was a version of one in the series of talks my Master used to have with me. It ends with . . . " Jahan smiled with his ice-blue eyes glinting and lowered his voice apparently to match that of his Master's. "Always remember, we're Jedi, not deep space pilots."

Because I knew the reputation of deep space pilots, I knew what they had been talking about. "But he's only eleven," I said.

Jahan's eyes caught mine. "He's asking."

"One in the series of talks?" I inquired. Jahan seemed to want to talk.

"If he isn't thinking about it almost constantly, he soon will be." Jahan still held my eyes. "My Master kept a tight rein on me, I was a wild one, difficult to control. He didn't want a string of baby Jedi left in our wake for the search Jedi to find. It was important to him the Force-sensitive children be raised properly as Jedi." Jahan chuckled. "Actually, almost all of his talks ended with ‘we're not deep space pilots.' It worked, it stuck with me."

Jahan picked at his food. "I used to daydream about the things I would do once I was no longer his Padawan," he revealed.

"You could have quit. Left the order."

Jahan shook his mop of nearly white hair. "No, that was never an option to me. I am a Jedi. Through and through." He laughed. "I never wanted to * be* a spacer, I just wanted to act like one. I had the idea that I could both serve the Force and myself at the same time. That once I was a Knight, I would no longer be watched and told what to do. It didn't turn out that way."

"How has it turned out for you?" I wanted to know.

"As you know, the Force connects all things. The closer I got to the trials, the more I realized everything I do has an affect. While the Force doesn't command, telling you what to do or not do, not heeding it, I found had disastrous results."

"I'm sorry." I put my hand on his.

"No." He shook his head. "No, nothing like that." He laughed. "No deep dark secrets here. I was apprenticed young, which was probably a good thing. I grew to appreciate the time and effort my Master was investing in me. I heeded his advice and took his wisdom to heart. I learned from example and not personal experience."

***

"I'll go get him," I told the holgraphic image of the woman projected from the comm system. She stated it wasn't necessary, I could take a message.

"Jahan?" A grease smudged face popped up from underneath his speeder bike. I relayed her message about their appointment.

"Uh, thanks," he stated before he resumed his mechanical labors.

*I bet,* I thought disgusted with the flimsy attempt at subterfuge.

In full Jedi regalia, he rode off. I didn't watch him leave, it was too painful. I had gotten used to the impasse in our relationship, letting things remain as they were. Now that he had taken this step, I knew that I had lost him.

He returned late that evening. I didn't have dinner waiting for him and he didn't inquire about it, retreating to his room in silence.

***

"Mom," Trave said. "Jahan says he's not hungry, again."

I got up from the dinner table and knocked on his door. "Jahan, you haven't eaten in days. Open up." There was no answer. "Jahan? Are you okay?" Still no reply. "Jahan, please answer me."

"I'm fine. I'm not hungry. Leave me alone."

***

He was clearly trying to keep his voice down, but it was equally clear that they were arguing. Normally curious, this was one conversation I did not want to hear. However, he nearly screamed into the commlink that she was not to come over here before he ended the conversation and stormed into his room.

Jahan was waiting for her outside when her landspeeder pulled up. From the set of his face, it was clear he was enraged that she had arrived. *This is a different woman. She isn't the same one I took the message from. He's really been playing the field. Odd though, he hasn't gone anywhere except that one time. Maybe it isn't what I think it is.* I turned from the window. *His personal life is his own business. I told him he wasn't chained here.*

"Mom, I heard a landspeeder," Dimon stated as he went to look out the window. "Who is it?"

"It's none of your business. Get back to your studies." I nearly caught him by the sleeve, but he evaded my grasp to peek out the window. I tried to tug him away but he was frozen there.

"No," he moaned. "No, no, no. I thought it was over. It was over. No, no."

"What's the matter?" I asked my son, trying to pull him away from the window and closer to me. "What did you think was over?"

He could not pull his eyes away from the sight outside. It did not appear that Jahan and his lady friend were talking, yet from their animated hand movements it was obvious the were having telepathic communication. *She must be a Jedi.*

Dimon started trembling. "No, no, no." He shook his little dark head. "I thought Jahan was different, but he's just the same. It's starting all over again. He's just like *him.* No, no." He started crying.

Trave joined his brother at the window. "What's the matter?" He looked out the window. "That's the woman . . ." He cut himself off.

I tried to turn Dimon around to face me but he wouldn't budge. "Dimon, what is starting all over again? And Jahan is just like who?"

Dimon steeled himself. He calmed himself using, I know, some Jedi techniques and gave me a wan smile. "Don't worry mom, I'll protect you this time." With that he ran from the window.

"Trave, what is going on? You know who she is, tell me."

Trave's dark eyes opened wide as he looked into mine. He shook his head vigorously.

In the background I heard Dimon run to the back door and I walked over to see what he was up to with Trave trailing behind me. Concerned over what had frightened my child, I was determined to draw the information from him.

"Dimon . . ."

I was answered my the snap-hiss of a lightsaber.

Standing ready at the door, my middle son was holding his father's ignited amber-yellow light saber. He stood there not moving and tense.

"Dimon! What are you doing?! Put that down! Dimon, turn it off,now!" I commanded wondering what had come over my son.

"Don't worry mom, I'll protect you . . .us," Dimon said without turning from his stance guarding the door.

"Dimon, answer me! Protect me from what, from whom?!"

Jahan opened the door as I heard the landspeeder take off into the distance. Caught unaware by my son's strange behavior, Jahan paused, freezing in his tracks. Dimon took advantage of the older Jedi's surprise and dropped an arm from the hilt to Force-push Jahan from the entrance. Jahan was shoved back a step.

"What the . . . Dimon! What are you doing?" Jahan called out.

Normally, full of life and bursting with energy, Jahan, looked tired and weak as if he was sick or haunted.. Dark circles shadowed the sockets of his eyes, he was thin and fragile appearing.

"LEAVE!" Dimon ordered as he tightened his grip on his weapon. "We don't need you here. Leave! Now! Get on your swoop and just leave!"

"LEAVE!" Dimon ordered as he tightened his grip on his weapon. "We don't need you here. Leave! Now! Get on your swoop and just leave!"

"Dimon!" I nearly screamed. "What is this all about? Why are you doing this? Have you gone crazy?"

Dimon didn't break his stare from Jahan. "He tried to make me forget, mom. But I didn't. I remembered everything. First, *she* would come and then you would get hurt or sick. You would spend days in a healing trance until she left. He made you and Garren and Trave forget. But I didn't, I just pretended. Try to remember, mom, try to remember, something," he pleaded with me.

I was utterly confused and began to become alarmed. "Dimon, when did Jahan do this? When was she here before?"

"No, mom," Dimon shifted his weight a bit as Jahan stood there in a semi- surrender. "Dad." I transferred my gaze to Jahan to see if I could glean understanding from his face. He stood there placidly.

"But its starting all over again," Dimon continued. "They're all alike."

"Who's all alike?" Jahan inquired softly.

"Jedi," Dimon spat the word out.

"But you're . . ." I started to utter.

"No! Never!" Dimon yelled. "I won't be like him and Dad. She's back and he's going to hurt you just like dad did. But I won't let him. Leave!"

"He's right mom," Trave spoke up. Jahan turned his attention to my youngest and a look of betrayal washed over his face. "That is the same lady in the hologram and after you saw it you got sick and then didn't remember. Jahan made me promise not to tell anyone."

"See, mom?" Dimon added as his face became even more determined. "It's starting all over again." Dimon Force-pushed Jahan again and the larger Jedi didn't prevent it, allowing himself to be moved back again. "LEAVE!"

"Dimon, listen to me," Jahan requested. "It isn't what you think. Let me explain."

"No!" Dimon yelled. "Just leave!"

Jahan slowly kneeled down and bent over, offering the back of his neck in supplication to Dimon's yellow blade. "I've dropped all my shields. My mind is completely open to you. Explore anywhere you wish for as long as you like. I'm hiding nothing. Look and you will see."

Dimon hadn't expected this and neither had I. Standing there, I knew he was weighing his options, trying to assess the situation. Jahan didn't move. Dimon shot a look at his brother and then hesitantly took a few steps towards the prone body of Jahan. Transferring his grip to one hand he cautiously unhooked Jahan's lightsaber. Jahan didn't move.

Dimon stepped back and gave it to his brother. I took it from my youngest and Dimon didn't protest. I ignited the crimson blade and held it over Jahan's neck for Dimon's peace of mind, knowing that it was meaningless given the strength Jahan possessed with the Force. Dimon approached Jahan again, with the yellow blade held out and put his hand on the top of the nearly white mop of hair.

Long moments passed as Dimon concentrated, closing his eyes and wrinkling up his face. After some time, the amber-yellow blade disappeared and Dimon fell to his knees crying. I thumbed off Jahan's lightsaber in response. Jahan gathered Dimon into his arms and the two rocked back and forth comforting each other.

"I'm so sorry, Jahan," Dimon wept.

Jahan wiped away my son's tears with a gentle touch of his fingers. "No, no need to say you're sorry. You did exactly the right thing, given the information you had. You will make a fine Jedi Knight some day. You've made me proud. Are you all right, now?"

Dimon nodded his head.

"Good," Jahan stated as he rose and pulled Dimon up with him. "Can we go into the house now, son?"

Jahan led us into the house and sat down into his chair holding Dimon on his lap. When he finally looked over to myself and Trave on the divan, his face was a mixture of sadness and relief.

"What is going on?" I inquired keeping my voice low.

"Your sithspawn of a husband apparently couldn't keep . . ." Jahan blurted out and then caught himself. He shut his eyes tight. "I was trying to keep the past in the past, but it has raised its ugly head. I'm sorry, I didn't know about what Dimon just told us."

"What did you know ?" I asked hugging Trave close to me.

"Maybe, Trave should go into the other room," Jahan suggested.

"No," I said. "He's heard only part of the story. We all need to know all of it." Jahan nodded his head in agreement.

"That woman out there . . ." Jahan started. "And your husband." He looked at Trave and then me. "Had children together. Two little girls. One was born not that long ago . . ."

It was killing me, but I indicated that Jahan should continue. "That's where the money from the numbered account was going. She is now making demands."

I looked at him quizzically. "What kind of demands? Why doesn't she just go live at the Temple?"

He shook his head. "She's not a Jedi."

"But, I saw . . ."

"She is Force sensitive, but she isn't a Jedi. She was just an Initiate, no one took her as a Padawan."

"Wouldn't the Temple take her in because of her children?"

"No, they're not Force sensitive. First time I've ever been grateful someone wasn't born with Force abilities." Jahan stroked Dimon's hair.

"But if they're my . . ."

"It's rare, but it happens," Jahan revealed and then continued. "She was demanding what was rightfully hers according to the laws of this *kriffing* pl anet of yours. As the mother of two of his children, she is entitled to two-fifths of your husband's property. She could have forced you to sell the groves and the house."

"What?" I gasped, unbelieving. "She couldn't. I, I . . ."

"Yes, she can," Jahan stated with conviction. "That's why I went to Portam that day, to talk to a lawyer. It's going to kill me, but I'm going to have to open another account and send any reward money to her."

"You mean your going to put your life on the line for *her*?" I asked incredulously. "I won't stand for it. I'd rather sell the groves." I lifted my chin to show my determination.

"One could look at it that way," Jahan said with great weariness. "I know you're hurting, but those little girls have become my responsibility along with everything else's of your husband's. Sending them credits is the best I can do, I won't shirk my responsibility."

"You are not responsible for them."

"I know you better than you know yourself. You are just saying that right now, you haven't had time to think about it like I have. It's not those little girls' fault, they need to be supported. In time, you'll see I'm right."

He was wrong. I already knew he was right.

"And I know your curious, " Jahan added. "I saved the hologram Trave was talking about. I'll give it to you so you can see it."

I locked my eyes with his crystal-blue ones. "You cleared my memory of it once. Have you changed your mind?"

"No," he stated simply.

"Where is it?" I asked.

He shifted in his seat and removed the small hologram from his belt.

"Trave, go get it," I instructed my son. Trave rose and took the object from Jahan's hand. He held it out to me. "And go throw it in the disintegrator."

Jahan had kept his promise to me made so long ago.

***

Whether or not they picked my farm at random or whether they knew he was away in town or even if they had arranged it with cohorts causing a distracting ruse, I did not know at the time. All I knew was scared and Jahan wasn't there.

While one of the three men held us at blaster point, the other two were ransacking our home looking for valuables. As they entered my room, I closed my eyes. *Please, don't let them find it.*

"My daddy's a Jedi!" Trave bravely bragged.

"Your daddy is dead," came the cruel retort.

I knew then that our house had not been a random selection. *But they don't know about Jahan. If only he was here.*

"He is not!" Trave exclaimed. "When he gets back from town . . ."

"Shut up!" Trave did not get to finish his threat for the man smashed the side of his face with his hand, knocking my son to the floor.

Comforting my son on the floor, I did not find solace with the next sound I heard. It was the familiar sound of a lightsaber igniting with a snap-hiss. *They found it.* Stored away, the intruders in my house had found my husband's lightsaber.

"See, I told you!" Trave piped up.

"Shh," I warned my son.

"See, dad is here now." Trave pointed in the opposite direction from my room.

It wasn't the amber-yellow that had been the color of my husband's weapon, but crimson red. The man holding it wasn't Trave's tall and dark father, but the dad was Jahan Fornax.

The Jedi in my house was a giant of a man.

The intruder grabbed my arm, pulled me up close to him and held the blaster to my temple. Without looking back, he called to his partners, "Wes, Parth! Get in here!'

The two men entered the room with drawn blasters as the man holding me hostage said, " I thought you said he was dead."

Jahan lowered one hand from his grip of his symbol and means of justice, moved his hand through the air and growled menacingly and deep, "Let my wife go, or I will kill you."

I heard the sound of two blasters behind me dropping to the floor as one of them stated, "Let his wife go, he will kill you."

The man holding me didn't move.

"Serax, don't be stupid," came another voice from behind me. "Let his wife go, he will kill you. He's the Jedi with the constable, he's the one who killed Gress."

I felt his arm release me and the pressure on my temple disappeared. "I didn't hurt her, mister," he pleaded as he placed the weapon down slowly and put his arms up in surrender.

I scrambled away, grabbing Trave as I retreated and Dimon collected up their weapons.

This time it was the constable saying, "Tell him, I'm on my way."

The constable's landspeeder wasn't out of sight before Trave started asking questions. "Would you really have killed him?"

"I didn't have to, Trave. That's the important thing. I hope I never have to kill someone again, but yes, I would have, *if necessary.* That's why your training is so important, so you have the skills to avoid killing. I was weak in Jedi compulsion. I worked hard to improve and it paid off. You're safe," he said as he looked at me to include me in his statement. "And no one died."

"I wasn't scared," Trave bragged. "Did you see? Jedi aren't scared."

"This one was," Jahan said softly.

"But you said fear leads to the dark side," Trave contended.

"That type of fear is different. The fear I'm talking about is concern for those you love. That is of the light. We will discuss and meditate on the difference tomorrow as well as the boasting you just been doing." Trave dropped his head at the gentle rebuff.

Dimon shuffled his feet obviously disturbed.

"Speak up," Jahan commanded.

Dimon looked at his feet. "You lied."

Jahan closed his eyes tight for a long moment. "I did, didn't I?" He opened them up to look at me. "And it wasn't necessary, either, was it?"

"No," I explained as I gazed into his beautiful blue eyes. "Because that problem can easily be remedied."

He gave me that glorious smile of his. "Everyone into the landspeeder," he ordered as he took my hand.

"Why?" asked Trave.

"Because if we hurry, we can still catch the only town official."

***

Pulling me down on to the bed, he supported himself with his arms keeping his body tantalizingly away from mine. Kissing my face, he again surprised me by slipping his tongue into my mouth. Wet with expectation, I widened the distance between my legs, inviting him in. To guide his entry, he grabbed hold of himself.

The naked Jedi, nearly in me, stopped.

"What is the matter?" I asked.

"My family isn't large enough." He smiled broadly.

"I agree."

His first thrust sent spasms through my body and the ecstasy on his face filled my heart with joy because of his pleasure. Straining, he pushed deep, grunting and holding that first entry, savoring the moment. I ran my hands across his back, feeling the soft velvet of his skin covering the rock-hard muscles underneath. He began to quiver.

Pulling back slowly, he thrust again. "Wrap your legs around me," he whispered.

As he continued to drive himself into me, he slowly increased his rhythm. He was trying to hold himself back, make himself last. I groaned and moaned with delight, squirming under him as I pressed my body against him encouraging him in his efforts.

"Oh, that feels good," I gasped.

He let himself go, stroke after stroke, slamming his body into and against mine. This strong man could, if he wished, cause me great harm, but was instead my protector and using that strength to give me pleasure. This realization excited me.

Arching his back in climax, every muscle on his body became taut with his final thrust of hardness.

Relaxing, he took a deep breath and threw back his head.

My husband howled, "Oooooouuuuuuuwwwww!"

The End.