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Lyra	By : Wanabee Category: Star Wars (All) > General Views: 3599 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. These characters are mine, and so is Ruy.

Chapter List
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Something is tickling your face. You twitch, and then reach up to bush it away, but you encounter a hand pushing your hair back. You open your eyes to see Ridan smiling as he tucks your hair behind your ear. "I didn�t think you could breathe through all this," he says. "Good morning."

"Good morning to you." You look around. "Where�s Djo?"
"He took my turn on duty rounds this morning. I convinced him he couldn�t bear to wake you, but I don�t think I�ll get away with that again."

"What do you two do all day here?"

"We check over the cockpit pretty frequently. We check the maintenance droids� logs, make sure all the systems are running well. The computer is supposed to tell us if something malfunctions, but it�s good to visually check, too. And we keep up with our practice, to stay active and alert. That�s important on a long trip like this. We can study as well � the computer is packed with things we don�t know. But there�s downtime, too. Playing card games, for instance." He smiles.

"What can I do today?"

"What would you like to do?"

"Well� I don�t want to be a leech, but could I follow you around and watch you do your work for a while?"

"I think that could be arranged."

But at this point your stomach rumbles, so you both decide to shower and have breakfast. Alas, the shower is big enough for only one at a time. You can�t imagine how Ridan fits in here alone. He points out the closet full of clothes they had brought for you and you pick out some silky white pants, another tank top, and sandals. No sense in letting their healthy testosterone levels fall off. After breakfast in the suite, Ridan shows you all the things he needs to check on. He explains the systems to you patiently, and determined not to be a pest, you wait quietly for all to become clear. Soon Ridan meets up with Doujo and they practice in the cargo bay. That�s quite a lot of fun, but unfortunately, even though they�re sweating, they apparently have a policy against removing any of their heavy clothing. Doujo comes over to you afterwards to tell you, "You seemed to be enjoying our practice much more than would be considered wholesome." Your only reply is to wiggle your eyebrows.
After they clean up, you have lunch together, and Ridan offers to set you up on the computer. You accept, and browse the computer�s library, taking a break to go to the cargo bay and practice your own relaxed style of martial art, Tai Chi. Doujo comes in and watches awhile, which you find terribly distracting. When you stop, he asks you about it and you tell him as much as you know about its history, and about your teacher. You show him some of the moves, repeating your teacher�s instructions as you hear them in your head. He at least pretends to be impressed with the style, saying it seems efficient and effective.

"How would you like to make a deal?"

You look unimpressed. "The last deal we made had a more strings attached than a harp."

He smiles. "A fair accusation, but I promise there are no strings this time."

"I�m listening."

"We�ll be arriving in Coruscant in a week. You know nothing of it, and would do well to learn. I know nothing of your planet, and would like to learn."

You�re not excited about this. "Who decides the topic?"
"The teacher. I�ll tell you what you need to know about Coruscant. You tell me what you want to about Earth."

You hesitate. You would like to learn from Doujo, but the thought of digging up memories you buried deeply over the past year is so unappealing your lips curls up involuntarily.

"You don�t look happy. You can�t think of an hour or two worth of stuff you can tell me? Half hour?"

You suppose you could do that. You could tell him about mass transit. Pollution. The Spanish Inquisition. Daytime television. Unwanted, several images pop into your mind in rapid succession. The Serengeti as seen on a nature show. A dirt road penetrating impossibly green woods. Your back yard in early summer. You suck in your breath, sit down suddenly, and put your mind on lockdown. He sits down with you. "I don�t want to go back there," you say, pleading.

"Tell me one thing about your planet."

You answer mechanically, "My country was the United States of America, and our mass transit wasn�t very good."

"Two things! Good. Now I will tell you two things about Coruscant, and then we will go bother Ridan. Coruscant is an ecumenopolis, which means worldwide city, and it is closer to the sun than it used to be. That wasn�t so bad, was it? Come on, I can�t sneak up behind Ridan, but you can."
You could indeed sneak up on Ridan, immersed as he was in the data screen in his room, but he did not immediately see the humor in your plan to cover his eyes. Before you could shout "Guess who!" he had grabbed your hands disconcertingly fast and pinned you to the wall with lightsabre drawn, at which point he found a great deal of humor in the fact that Doujo had sent you alone and unprotected into the bear�s den. He locked his door, and no amount of pounding there by Doujo dissuaded Ridan from thoroughly enjoying your undivided attentions.

Doujo was sitting at the table with a petulant look when you both emerged, fully dressed and ready for dinner, but was soon forced to agree with Ridan that he had no one to blame but himself.

**

The days that follow are similar to that one. A little practice, a little teaching each other your fighting styles, a few practical jokes, and each night ends atop Mt. Ridan. Doujo pesters you every day for a few facts about Earth, and you challenge yourself to come up with the most impersonal facts you can remember. "There�s a tree that grows to 300 feet tall. They can be 25 feet across at the base, and they live for thousands of years. Or they did. Their seed was tiny, and they were called Giant Sequoias. I saw them when I was a kid. Your turn."

"That must have been an amazing sight."

"I don�t really remember. It�s your turn."
He sighs and tells you that the Jedi Temple is a kilometer tall and he liked to ride the elevators when he was a youngling. "What kind of music do you play?"

"Classical, jazz, and Ruyian drinking songs."

"I wish I could hear you play again. What do you call that last song you played?"

"Clair de Lune, by Claude Debussy. That would be classical."

"How did you learn to play?"

"Lessons, music school, and the seat of my pants." He waits expectantly. "Oh, this is so boring. You don�t want to hear this."
"Why would I be bored about something so important to you?"

"It bores me! It was forever ago. It�s done! Who cares?"

"Didn�t you like to play?"

"I love to play, but learning was boring. Would you want to revisit your years of practice?"

"How could you do something so long that you hated? Didn�t you like it at all?"

You stop to think of a rebuttal to this, and a memory floods over you, arriving and yet having always been there, as memories are. You are about 10, practicing another Debussy song, Reverie, as your mother bangs pots in the kitchen, preparing dinner. Each time you play it, you improve a little. The house is warm and bright, and as you finish the piece your mother is waiting there in the doorway, watching, smiling. "So beautiful, Sammi. To me it sounds like someone walking through a breezy field of wheat. I never get tired of hearing you play. But it�s time for dinner, honey. Everyone�s waiting." Your heart comes up into your mouth. Doujo is waiting patiently. Your voice wavers, "I loved it, every minute. They had to drag me away from the piano." You look up at him, your eyes moist.
"You�d forgotten, hadn�t you? Were you happy on Earth?"

"Yes," you whisper desperately.

"You�ve buried it, but it�s still in there. You�re going to have to deal with it some day, Lyra, because it�s part of who you are. You think you can just start over and go on from here, but that will only work if you�ll be happy being half a person." He pauses. "You took a peek into the wound. How was it?"

You still have a choking feeling. "It hurts. But� it�s kind of a relief, too. To feel it. But I�m not ready for all of it."

"No, not yet."
- 10
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- 12
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Lyra