| It takes one to know one By Jemmiah |
| ENTRY TWENTY-SIX: I don't believe it! I'm being dumped! Master Jinn and Ben are going on some mission and I will be foisted onto some other person! Master Berlingside offered to look after me (which I wouldn't have minded so much because he's fun) but the council thought I should be put in the care of a female, so I'm getting stuck with Master Jinn's first padawan, G'emela Lothric. Ben's never met her either so he doesn't know what she's like, but I've heard from various sources that she can be a bit bossy and pushy and…loud. Master Jinn seems a bit scared of her! I just know we're not going to get on. This is so unfair! I knew this was going to happen at some point but I feel so sad already. They don't leave for another two days but it hardly makes me want to get better right now. I don't want them to go. Anything could happen to them and I'm scared they'll be hurt or worse. I know I'm being selfish again but I can't help it. Why did this have to happen? Why, why, why, why, WHY??? Jemmiah stared morosely at the floor with an intensity that might have burned a hole in the fibers of the rectangular rug spread across the polished wooden floor surface. She hadn't lied when she'd typed the words into the keypad of her beloved diary: it would have happened sooner or later. Obi-Wan and Master Jinn were above everything jedi: protectors of the peace and guardians of justice within the Republic. The very nature of their force-driven lifestyle meant that they would have to travel from one side of the galaxy to another, very often taking them away from the temple for weeks at a time. Away from her. She knew she should be grateful that it hadn't happened so far, that no doubt the council had been lenient in the kind of missions that they had sent Master Jinn and his young padawan learner to deal with. Probably this had been in deference to her living with the two jedi, showing themselves willing to let them settle down and get used to each other as an unconventional family unit. Yes, Jemmiah knew she should be happy they'd not been taken from her before now. Instead, she found herself feeling more and more bitter. Jedi didn't have clutter in their lives. Well, Obi-Wan had his fair share of training games and holo vids, but no doubt once they'd ceased to serve any purpose he'd pass them on to some other padawan who could make use of them. That was the way of the jedi. They did not hang onto things. They owned the clothes they stood up in and the occasional knickknack but that was all. A thing was only useful if it served some real purpose and did not sit gathering dust on some shelf. The belongings that Qui-Gon had, few as they were, only served to remind him of treasured times in the past: holos of his knighting ceremony, or of himself fighting in some mock-tournament as a young padawan. Memories which, Qui-Gon often said, recalled his humble beginnings as an apprentice aspiring one day to be a great jedi knight. Jedi didn't tend to have families either for the same reason. There were one or two notable exceptions: Master An-Paj the chief healer in the infirmary had six wives all at the same time! Master Fin-Tial Shellac had a wife who worked in the refectory. But marriage was not encouraged amongst the jedi. Jemmiah, whilst not personally enamoured of the notion of being married and enslaved forever to one person, couldn't help but find that just a little bit strange. Quite quickly she'd discovered that the jedi were quite willing to indulge in the occasional one-off fling (or if you believed the rumors in the case of Master Berlingside a constant string of affairs). You could commit yourself to the training of a padawan, sometimes for over fifteen years, but not to a partner? Well, Jemmy mused silently, she doubted that there would actually be time for anything more serious. And so the jedi would see others, but rarely could they afford to put their neck in the marital noose. Families it seemed, were dangerous. Attachment to people was inevitable, but not encouraged incase it warped a Jedi's judgement. By being allowed to stay in Master Jinn's household she'd gone and screwed up one of the oldest rules in the temple's mighty dossier of regulations. Maybe she should be proud, Jemmy reflected for a moment, but she couldn't help but feel like she was the fly in the temple's ointment, and that most of the masters regarded her as a nuisance. So, Ben and Quiggy were going. There was nothing she could do except get on with things and hope that they would come back soon…that they would be alright…safe and in one piece… "Tangles…" Qui-Gon sighed, folding his arms as he looked down at the sullen Corellian girl. "You have to accept this. I know that it's not ideal but it's the way things have to be. I thought you understood this…" Jemmy shrugged with a short, sharp motion of her shoulder blades. "There really is nothing I can do about this. You know the way that a jedi must live. I may call this place home but the truth is my life is wherever the council chooses to send me. Please try not to take this so personally. In many ways the council have been considerate to our circumstances. They could have sent Obi-Wan and I on many missions before now." "I know." Jemmy mumbled into the hand she was resting her chin against. "It's not that I don't understand. I do! I know your life as a jedi is more important than I am…" "Tangles!" Qui-Gon reproached her softly, shaking his head. "I didn't mean it like that." Jemmy grimaced, twisting the ends of her hair around her fingers. "I'm not trying to accuse you of anything…things are the way they are. I don't expect special treatment or anything, and I know my being here can't hold you and Obi-Wan back. It's just that I don't want to see either of you get hurt…" She followed him around the room with large, shining Nerf's eyes, waiting until he seated himself beside her. "I mean, there must be times when these missions get dangerous…" "Every mission is dangerous." Qui-Gon replied, realizing that perhaps it was not the most tactful thing to say under the circumstances: his words would hardly allay her fears. How should he reply? He couldn't possibly lie to her - giving her false impressions would be very wrong. And yet he didn't want to scare her. "What I mean to say is that there is danger in getting up in the morning, or walking down a road…in the most simplest of tasks. So please, try not to worry." Jemmiah chewed down of her lip. It was so difficult not to be selfish. She didn't want to be, yet she wanted to be reassured. What would happen to her if…if the worst ever happened? The jedi would have no reason to keep her: they hadn't wanted her in the first place! She had no friends. There was nowhere else she could feel safe except for within the secure temple walls. Outside, she was vulnerable…and with no protector, who would make sure she was safe from the likes of Rufus Merdan? But no matter what fears she might have for her own safety, they took second place to her worries for Master Jinn and Obi-Wan… "Don't be afraid." Qui-Gon smiled at her. "Nothing will happen." "But if it does…" Jemmy blurted out. He took a steadying breath. "G'emela will take care of you." "But I don't know G'emela!" Jemmiah swallowed, trying to mentally picture the woman. She'd seen a picture of Master Jinn's first padawan as a twelve-year-old girl. The vision she'd been presented with was of a robust, physically strong, rather solid girl with above shoulder-length, bobbed dark hair and a constantly questioning expression on rather thin, cynical lips. Whilst it was difficult to try and age the youthful face some twenty plus years, Jemmiah wasn't terribly certain that G'emela was the type of person who'd tolerate any juvenile high spirits or wayward behavior. The idea of having to rein herself in and watch her conduct all over again for fear of causing offence made Jemmy squirm inwardly. "You will get to know her." Qui-Gon answered succinctly. "What is she like?" Jemmy countered, squinting up at him through a deliberately half-shut eye, concentrating on his reply. The question caught Qui-Gon somewhat off-guard. "G'emela…well, she's…er," He sought for the right description. There were many phrases that could be applied to his first padawan, and every person that knew her would have a different word for her. Not all of them on the face of it were complimentary. "She's…" "What?" "Nice." Qui-Gon supplied lamely. "Nice?" "Yes." Jinn nodded, deciding to change the topic. "So there will be no problems, will there?" He caught the dubious look in her eye. "Jemmiah, I'm counting on you to behave and do your best. If you don't give G'emela a hard time then you will both rub along perfectly, I'm certain of it. Now, I know I can trust you." He finished warmly, smiling as if to encourage her to just agree and let the matter drop. If he did trust me then he wouldn't have mentioned it. Jemmiah felt her heart sink squarely towards her feet with disappointment. And what does he mean "if" I don't give her a hard time? Does that mean if I do something wrong then she'll lightsabre me to death in my sleep? What kind of maniac am I being passed to here? What is he not telling me? What's wrong with this G'emela person? He said she was "nice". In my experience, people who are just "nice" have some major defect that nobody wants to talk about! Jemmiah sighed, did as he wanted her to and nodded in defeat. It wasn't as if she had a lot of choice in the matter. Her fate had been sealed the moment the council had elected to send Master Jinn and Obi-Wan away. At first Qui-Gon had attempted to get Master Berlingside to look after her. That wouldn't have been so bad - he was fun, jolly and Corellian to boot! And his padawan, Kryztan Harkley, was an amusing person too, in a vain sort of way. But the council had felt that Jemmiah needed to be looked after by a female: a poor way of saying that they didn't feel Master Berlingside was capable of looking after two children at once. And so, here she was. Stuck with a woman she'd never set eyes on and who probably didn't want to be with her either. Qui-Gon didn't need the hassle: not before he went on a mission. She didn't want him to worry about how she was faring whilst he was gone. He didn't need to be distracted from more important matters. "Good." Jinn clapped her affectionately on the shoulder. "You'll be fine. I promise." Jemmiah groaned inwardly. She'd learned a hard lesson that day. Even jedi could lie. The next day hadn't proven to be any better as far as Jemmiah was concerned. Qui-Gon was still smiling quietly at her whenever their eyes met, convincing her even more that there was something terminally dreadful about G'emela that he wasn't telling her. Quizzing Obi-Wan had proven equally fruitless, although he at least had offered her a little more sympathy as regarded the situation she found herself in. Would he miss her, Jemmy wondered, as he and Qui-Gon sat and discussed the brief for their latest mission? It would be nice to think that perhaps, in a quiet moment (if they ever had a quiet moment), Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan might stop to wonder how she was faring on Coruscant. Not enough to spoil their concentration and get themselves killed at an inopportune moment, Jemmy thought furiously - hoping she hadn't jinxed them - but maybe once they were safe and had time to think on other things. She'd be thinking about them all the time. That and her other overwhelming problem: Sophie Digwurt. There were no words to describe the way she detested Sophie's ugly, Gamorrean face - nor enough breath in her body with which to string together the never-ending string of curses such a sick and twisted individual deserved. For months she'd put up with Sophie's taunts and threats. Most of the time Jemmy tried to ignore her, and for a while it had worked. There were after all any number of luckless fellow school kids for Sophie to pick on. She was bigger than most of them put together: a towering, ungainly mass of human flesh and bone sculpted with delicacy of a permacrete wall. Jemmiah shuddered a she brought Sophie's sinister image to mind. Digwurt dwarfed most of the children in her class, but Jemmiah especially so. It made her the obvious target. Sophie didn't like Corellians. She said they were loud, cheap and tasteless. Whilst Jemmiah could see there was indeed a degree of truth in that statement, the slur on both herself and those who shared her home planet stung her badly, just as Sophie had hoped it would. The only decent thing about being off school sick was not seeing Digwurt's ugly face all day. Alas, the flu-like illness that had laid her low the past week or so was slowly but surely beginning to fade away. In a matter of days she would be back, facing the familiar taunts and torments thought up by Sophie and her cronies in the interim. Whilst Jemmiah regarded Sophie as having the imagination and creativity of a rock, she couldn't help but wonder what kind of nastiness the bigger girl had planned for her return. Even Sophie had to have cooked up something in her absence, and Jemmy was not particularly looking forward to finding out what it was… She'd told Qui-Gon she could cope with it. After the incident where Sophie had broken her teeth whilst munching on pebble-laced rock cakes, things had for a time at least seemed to improve. Surface appearances were however deceiving. Deep down Jemmiah knew that by inflicting such humiliation on her arch-rival she'd only succeeded in earning Digwurt's enmity forever. Whilst Qui-Gon had postponed the option of sending her to another school, a part of Jemmiah wished she were far, far away from her so called class mates. They were all Nerfs, flocking brainlessly around the group leader, unable to think for themselves! Or more likely too scared to go against Sophie for fear of being next on the hit list… And so once again Jemmiah found herself staring at the prospect of being friendless, guardianless and totally on her own. Something about the porcine Sophie's sheer bulk and ungainly stature couldn't help but bring that image of the young G'emela Lothric to mind. Maybe that was why, deep down, Jemmy was quaking at the notion of being in the care of Qui-Gon's former padawan learner. Holo pics told you little about a person, it was true - they only captured the outside image. Maybe she shouldn't judge G'emela before she'd met her? But Sophie's immovable, mountain-like presence seemed to go hand-in-glove with the equally aggressive personality housed within. What if G'emela was the same? Seeking out Master Berlingside later that day had done little to reassure her. "You seem out of sorts." Dex offered her a rueful smile. "How's the flu? Are you feeling any better?" Jemmy treated him to a small yet obvious curl of her lip by way of a reply. "That bad, huh?" Berlingside laughed, seating himself upon the couch. "Maybe you should see the healers? Or was that the wrong thing to say?" "I've already seen the healers." Jemmy groused, defensively folding her arms, as Qui-Gon was apt to do when under verbal attack. "The flu's the least of my problems, believe me." Dex's vivid green eyes widened momentarily as if searching her face for some clue. Eventually after a few seconds of study, the corners of his mobile lips quirked upwards once more. "G'emela." He stated confidently. "Isn't it?" "Got it in one." Jemmiah nodded, moving to stand before him. "Master D, I hope you don't mind me asking you this but…" "Yes?" "What is this G'emela like?" She begged, entreating him with her eyes to tell her the plain truth, even if it was not what she wanted to hear. "I can't get a description out of anyone! Obi-Wan doesn't know her, although he's heard a little about her from what other people have said, but won't tell me because he says that it would be underhand to pass on gossip about a person he's never met! Master Windu says she's very clever, but a little prim. And Master Ashdal said that she's nosy! I can't quite picture her…" Dex patted the seat next to her, but Jemmiah was so worked up inside that she couldn't do anything other than stand, stiff-backed and on edge. She trusted Master Berlingside's opinion. However he answered would be crucial to how she should treat G'emela when they first met. After all, first impressions counted and she didn't want to start off on the wrong foot, so to speak… "Don't fret about G'emela." Dex tried to calm her down, running a hand through his golden mane of hair. "I'm sure that once you've gotten to know each other everything will be fine. She's very…nice." He finished. Jemmy closed her eyes. "There's that word again." She moaned despairingly. "Now I know she's an axe murderer!" Dex tipped his head backwards and laughed, ignoring the hurt expression on Jemmiah's face as she continued to regard him quizzically, tapping her foot repeatedly on the floor in an attempt to copy yet another of Qui-Gon's characteristics. What was so funny? Couldn't anyone see how important this was? "Don't laugh at me." Jemmy pouted. "Nobody takes me seriously. I thought at least you would." Wiping the tears of mirth from the corner of his eyes, Dex finally allowed himself to calm down. "Jemmiah, how one person regards somebody might not be the same as how someone else perceives them." He smiled indulgently at her. "I can only give you my impressions of her, and they might turn out to be as far removed from the opinions you form as Coruscant is to Dantooine!" "Please?" Begged Jemmiah, feeling the need to be reassured. Dex frowned as he tried to dredge up his own memories of G'emela. "Well," he began hesitantly, "She IS a nice person. By that I mean that she's well intentioned and considerate. It's just that sometimes she expresses her consideration by being…well, bossy. Domineering. You know the kind of thing: you're a grown man who knows what it's like out there in the big, bad galaxy - and then you have a pushy padawan who insists that you'll catch a chill if you don't go out wearing a long scarf and mittens!" He grinned at the memory. "That was something G'emela used to do to Qui-Gon quite frequently. She fussed over him like a mother hen bird!" Jemmy smirked, trying to picture the big jedi trying to escape wearing giant, fur lined earmuffs. "That doesn't sound so bad." She admitted to herself. "What else?" "She can be a bit…er," Dex sought the correct word, "inquisitive. Only because she likes to take an interest in people, that's all. She's not a gossipy person but she does like to know what's going on." "Great." Jemmy's mouth twisted in disgust. "So I can expect constant interrogations?" "Depend on it." Berlingside agreed, his tone light. "Sometimes she's a little tactless as well. G'emela sees things in black and white. She's honest - but honesty tends to blunt a person's tongue. So if she says something that you perhaps find a little…impolite," Dex ventured, "Don't take it to heart. She's like that with everyone. Especially with Mace and myself. She says I'm an idiot." He grinned like a lunatic, seemingly pleased with his moniker. "She also says Mace is incompetent. So as you can see she's also a pretty good judge of character!" "She sounds enchanting." Jemmiah said flatly. "Oh," Dex waved away her fears scornfully, "Pay her lack of courtesy no heed. She's a good-hearted person who'll watch your back in a crisis, and fight your corner. It's not her fault she resembles a big, blundering Bantha!" He beamed, delighted with his apt description. "You should get along with her okay. Just expect her to be really nosy about you, that's all. She was very fond of Qui-Gon. The fact you've wormed your way into his life will only heighten her curiosity!" Jemmy blew out a long-held breath. She didn't know what to think anymore. For a long time she'd been determined to dislike G'emela purely because she was the luckless individual she'd been foisted on to whilst the people she had come to care about - her family - were away getting themselves into force-knows-what kind of trouble! But one thing at least was certain: G'emela respected and cared for Qui-Gon. That at least proved they had some kind of common ground to work with. Maybe things wouldn't be so bad after all. "She's coming back from a mission on some planet called Klowda." Jemmy sighed, shoving her hands into her pockets and affecting a typical Corellian casual posture. "So I get to spend the first night with Tanni and Master Ashdal. At least that's something, I guess. But I can't say I'm looking forward to staying with someone else. I dunno, I guess that I…" "Will miss Master Jinn and Padawan Kenobi?" Supplied Dex gently. Jemmy pulled a miserable face. "Yeah. I'm so worked up about it that I've got a big knot in my stomach. I wish I could have stayed with you and Kryztan…" "Well, thank you." Berlingside answered, deeply flattered at the trust his fellow Corellian placed in him. "I wish the same. But you see, there are certain people on the council who share G'emela's generous opinion of my masterly abilities so I'm afraid that much as I would have loved the privilege of your company, it was never really on the cards…" "Pah!" Jemmiah stuck out her chin defiantly. "Whaddatheyknow?" "Precisely!" Dex lounged back against the chair, half closing his eyes. "I may be far from perfect, but let me tell you that there are some in elevated positions who in my opinion have spent so long on the council that they've forgotten how to be real jedi. They are every bit as capable as we lesser individuals of making errors of judgement." "Yeah." Agreed Jemmiah with a sigh. "That's why I'm stuck with G'emela and not you." Berlingside nodded gratefully at the compliment. "Still, it could be worse." He added. "How?" "Well," He smirked, trying to think of the most ridiculous scenario he could possibly come up with, "you could be stuck with Sal-Fina instead!" |
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