Star Wars: The Last Qymaili | ✔

22 | Distant Reunion

Song: "Jedi Master Luminara" from Star Wars: The Clone Wars OST

Ronderu walked back into the foyer, where Arna was hastily stuffing the last of the dishware into the trash hatch. He sighed. "Ready to head over to the Senate Hall?"

She stuffed her hands into her pockets and nodded slowly, and they walked out of the Temple to a speeder. She still longed to pore over the library books, but that would have to wait for another time.

As they boarded the speeder, she swallowed hard. "How young do you have to be to join the Jedi Order?"

"Usually we take infants only," Arna said. "We could run a midi-chlorian test on your blood after the hearing, but I doubt that—"

"I'm sure I'm not," she interrupted. All the power in the world could not tear her from Qymaen's embrace....but at the same time, being a Jedi was not about power. It was about using your knowledge and gifts to help the galaxy. Why would she logically turn such a proposition down? It would be the time of her life—flying around with Arna, making the galaxy a safer and more prosperous place.

But she loved Qymaen too much. Every moment away from him hurt her.

"Not everyone has what it takes to be a Jedi," Arna said. "Having a soft heart in a cruel world is courage, not weakness."

"I know that," she said quietly, envisioning the kindness of her friends.

He cleared his throat and continued. "If you're wondering about Anakin, he was taken in when he was nine. Master Qui-Gon believed him to be the Chosen One, so the Council made an exception."

She breathed out. "He was the only one?"

A shrug. "Attachments get in the way. Imagine what would happen if someone seized the power of the Force to save someone they love—they might use it for evil in the process. Emotions cloud people's judgement."

"But that's not always true," she pointed out. "My fiancé—he's very emotional. He uses it for good, not for evil. And without attachments, how can he love me?"

"It'll come back to bite him," Arna said, his hand tightening around the wheel as they docked at the Senate port. His eyes glittered with sadness and—jealousy? "It always does."

✺✺✺

He helped her out of the speeder, and they walked to the entrance. She stared at her hands as he spoke to the Senate security guards, assuring them that she was with him.

She let out a regulated breath through her mouth. When she had her gloves on, she could almost fool herself into believing she was not married to metal. But the numbness was routine, no matter how she tried to stifle or cover it.

She pushed the idea out of her head as she and Arna passed a few Jedi Masters and senators. He punched a code into the door, and they walked out onto a balcony along the rim of the Senate Hall.

She studied the landscape as the senators began filing in, representatives from all different species groups and communicating in different dialects of Basic, moving to their pods as the lights came on. Her lungs contracted, and she swallowed, searching for Qymaen.

How perfect it would be when his warm lips locked against hers, his breath fluttered against her face, and his dark hands entwined with hers—no matter how many times they'd done it before.

But so much had changed in the past year that she was unsure if they were still compatible—her Mandalorian accent and modifications were scary indicators that he had been swallowed whole by the Republic.