CHAPTER FIVE
( SEEDS OF GUILT AND FEAR )
"YOU ARE ONE OF the best Padawans the Jedi Order has! Don't you want to be one of the greats, one of the beloved Jedi Masters?"
"I didn't join to be some beloved, great Jedi!" Moira snapped around the horned woman before her – Dabria Graw, her Master and teacher for a few months now.
The last of her kind, Dabria Graw stood tall with large mud brown horns atop her head, and her piercing, light hazel eyes trained on the young twelve year old. Her straight, long brown hair laid neatly down her back, barely a strand out of place, and the sharp bone structure of her face made it easy to tell why people outside of the Jedi Order wanted to see the stunning woman in person. Most were intimidated by her though, just by her height alone; add in her natural beauty and the fact she didn't let anyone walk over her, and it became more obvious why.
Moira had been intimidated at first, but she quickly got over it, kickstarting the duo's random bursts of quarrels and disagreements rather quickly.
They were currently having one of their fights.
"I'm still a kid, I know that," the girl said, "but I understand some things out in the world need to be stopped. I didn't join for myself! I never wanted this in the first place! Master Yoda just waltzed in and offered me something that my mom said I could if I wanted take so I did – because it would help her. She didn't need to burden of looking after me while doing her dangerous job! A job she only has because of certain things the government has done. I joined, because I figured that by being here there's a way for me to help those in the lower levels, and in other places, who need it."
Dabria looked down at Moira. "You won't help much at all if you never become a Jedi Master, my young Padawan."
Moira's jaw tightened. Her chin lifted and hazel eyes met blue, which narrowed. A deep feeling came over her then. Dangerous, maybe. Dark. Unrecognizable, but nonetheless she knew it was something a Jedi shouldn't be feeling; something that wasn't foreign, despite the fact she couldn't pinpoint what grew inside her. "With you in my way, I won't."
"I suggest you reign in your emotions, Padawan," Jedi Master Graw spoke slowly, the tone of her voice having changed completely, taking the young girl by surprise. "Or I won't be the only one in your way."
At first, she was only confused, wondering what the Master could be talking about and what she meant. But then the familiar coolness of the metal of her lightsaber in her palm registered in her mind, and she looked down. Her thumb was just above the button to activate the blade. A quiet gasp left her and she quickly removed it, finally sensing the hesitancy and small bout of fear in the Jedi in front of her, Dabria's hand ready to grab her own weapon at her hip.
For a split second, Moira almost let go of the lightsaber completely. Instead she gripped it tighter and put it back on the belt, and took a step away from Master Graw. She then took another, only vaguely aware of how she said something about getting air, and a few more steps until she turned around completely and walked hurriedly down the halls of the Temple. A whirlwind of emotions and thoughts resided in her head as she walked. It slowly became overwhelming. So much so, she didn't pay attention to where she was going.
Eventually, the youngling made it to the dormitories, brushing by other Padawans and ignoring the few concerned questions they tried to ask. She went to her own room. Only, the door was jammed – again. She let out a sound of frustration and tried again, not succeeding in the slightest. After a few more attempts that didn't work, Moira turned and leaned her back against the hard surface and slid down until she sat on the ground with her knees up to her chest.
Her thoughts finally slowed down as she sat there. The terrifying realization that she had grabbed her lightsaber as a way to threaten someone, possibly to attack if the fight any longer – and it wasn't even a random someone, it was her Jedi Master – caused the young girl a high amount of inner turmoil. The worst part? It wasn't the first time that feeling rose up.
The realization caused tears to form. She joined to help out her mother, to possibly make a difference in the future, to be good. Yet she felt as if she were slowly turning into the complete opposite.
Her lips started to tremble and the amount of tears gathering grew. She put the base of her palms against her eyes, hoping that would somehow keep herself from crying. Her throat tightened, a seed of guilt and fear planting itself in her gut. For a moment, she believed she calmed herself down, but as a voice ordered the remaining Padawans in the hallway to leave and as a body moved to sit beside her, everything came rushing back.
"Moira–."
"I'm sorry," she blurted out, interrupting Dabria, and she dropped her hands from her eyes. Bright blue eyes were covered by a glassy, unshed flood of tears, held back by a dam that was cracking. "I'm so sorry." The dam broke. "I didn't– I... I didn't mean to threaten you, it just happened. I don't want... I want to be good, I swear, b-but–."
Dabria wrapped an arm around her shoulders and rugged her into her side, shushing quietly. "I know. I could tell."
"But you were ready to fight me if I did anything!"
"An instinctive movement of my hand," Dabria reasoned. "I trust you, Moira, I promise. I know you wouldn't harm me on purpose." She paused, letting the kid get situated. "This wasn't the first time, was it?"
Moira, albeit hesitantly with some embarrassment, nodded. "I don't want to turn out on the Dark Side."
Dabria stayed quiet for a moment. Then, "I know neither of us see eye to eye on some things, and we fight a lot, but... If you work with me, and actually listen to my advice, I won't steer you wrong. You will not become part of the Dark Side. Not while I'm your Master."
Moira wiped her eyes and cheeks, blinking a few times. "Promise?"
She nodded. "I promise."
+++
She leaned against the hover car with crossed arms, eyes fixated on nothing in particular while doing so, completely focused on reminiscing. That one memory of Dabria Graw comforting her stuck out like a sore thumb against the many memories of bickering and disagreements. Still, it had been a turning point in their relationship. Moira trusted them Jedi more, and vice versa. The little twelve year old padawan didn't purposefully disobey even when she knew what Dabria said was right. She went along and listened to her Master, but that never stopped Moira from disobeying orders when she didn't agree with the adult.
During the next two years, they had saved each other's lives more than either could count on one hand, maybe even two hands. Even with their disputes and arguments, they grew close. It was an odd relationship, to say the least. Back then, she didn't like Dabria all that much – that little fact never really changed – but that didn't rule out the fact that Moira would fight for her until her very last breath. And then...
And then...
Moira buttoned up her father's jacket and pulled the hood over her head, and then burrowed the bottom half of her face underneath the collar of it, arms tightly around herself. She didn't want to think about it. She didn't want to acknowledge it, or relive it in a memory, or even remember it. Her body tensed up and she slowly crawled into the passenger side of the airspeeder. She slouched and bent her knees, balling up the best she could, the awful memory that finally pushed her into leaving the Order running across her mind.
That overly anxious feeling came crawling back, sticking to her like tar, catching millions of feathers of fear and guilt and a bit anger. The lightsaber resting in the pocket felt like a trillion tons again, and as it rested against her abdomen, it seemed as if it were burning her, weighing her down.
Her blue eyes squeezed shut. She turned in on herself more and took in a deep breath, and decided to shift her thoughts to Lucien Astra.
Thinking of her parents calmed her down – of her father's blue eyes and dry humor, of her mother's shiny blonde hair and voice of an angel. Though, thinking of them came with a price, because now she had reminded herself why she didn't like the government in the first place – they never did anything to help the poor and the helpless.
So, Moira did her best to shove away the negative thoughts about what happened decades ago that caused her to leave and the reasons she loathed the government, and focused more of her imprisoned father. A man who hadn't been there to raise her most of her life, but someone she adored and trusted and loved. A pirate, her dad. Someone who did what he had to do to bring money back home to his family. She knew Lucien wasn't the best good guy around – he stole, cheated, broke all kinds of laws, the list could go on – but he never really wanted to do those things; the guy just wanted the best for his two best girls. Unfortunately for him, that meant doing things he regretted because of how poor both her parents were back then. It's how her mother got into the smuggling business. It paid well. Moira didn't hold any of it against them.
After all, she's in the same boat.
A boat that was constantly in a raging, choppy sea with high waves and dangerous tides, and a dangerous storm looming above them. Smuggling in Coruscant wasn't an easy job in the slightest. For the past two decades, her life stayed on the line, taking illegal weapons and refugees who weren't legally citizens, and even some spices and highly illegal substances from level to level. As time went on though, she slowed down, especially when Freya became a part of her life. She got a legal job that paid legal money, but it still wasn't enough so she still does the smuggling thing every so often.
"Moira!"
Her eyes opened. She wasn't surprised to see Obi-Wan making his way over. "That's my name," she responded, sitting up so she wasn't slouching in on herself anymore. That anxiety and fear still ran through her, but it wasn't overwhelming anymore. The sight of her long time friend made those feelings dissipate even more, a soft, warm feeling settling within her instead. "Did you find stuff on Kamino?"
"Kind of. I'm about to leave to go there now," he explained. He walked up to her side and leaned against the door.
Moira bolted up right. "I'm coming with, right?" She tried to control her excitement and eagerness. Not once has she stepped foot off of Coruscant – not since she was a very small child, going on dangerous piracy adventures with her father, and even those were few and far in between because he never wanted her to get seriously hurt.
Obi-Wan hesitated to answer.
"Look, I understand Anakin will most likely join you, but it wouldn't hurt for me to tag along."
"Anakin is on his first solo mission to protect Senator Amidala back in Naboo," Obi-Wan explained. "I guess you could come along, but you will have to follow whatever orders I give you."
"I wouldn't do anything to harm this mission, Obi-Wan," she told him. At his look of disbelief, she rolled her eyes. "I may not like following orders most of the time, but I know when I should. Someone tried to murder the Naboo's Senator, and I can tell it's important to you that you find out who."
Obi was crossed his arms. "You don't like the government," he stated as if trying to make a point.
"I don't necessarily like the Jedi Order either, yet here I am offering to help you." She poked the middle of his chest, but not too hard. Still, Obi-Wan tubbed the spot once she pulled away. "I can put aside my feelings for a day, in case you haven't noticed."
He hummed, crosses his arms, and held his chin and beard with his forefinger and thumb, steel blue eyes locked onto her as he thought. She couldn't help but realize he did that a lot – think and hold his chin as he did so. "What if this becomes not so simple anymore?" he asked her.
"I'll be thoroughly annoyed and probably unnecessarily pissed, but I will also get over it eventually," she replied with a small smile.
"No grudges?"
"Yet to be determined." She reached over and patted his shoulder. "Ask me again when our little mission is over."