Jaina groaned and dropped the wires. For a second she had forgotten that Lowie was not here working beside her, and now she had hurt the miniaturized translating droid’s feelings. She scrambled out from under the control panel and grabbed the circuit fuser herself. “Sorry, Em Teedee, I didn’t mean—”
“Oh, it’s quite all right, Mistress Jaina,” the little droid said. “I’m resigned to the possibility that being wired to a diagnostic panel may be my only beneficial purpose. And even that is nonessential, since you have such an excellent ability to diagnose malfunctions on your own.” He gave an electronic moan. “Why, I shouldn’t be at all surprised if one morning I reactivated from my shutdown cycle only to find myself in one of those electronics bins in your chambers, ready to be disassembled for spare parts.”
Now it was Jaina’s turn to sigh. She closed the access panel under the sensor array she’d been adjusting and then heaved herself up into the copilot’s seat. Lowbacca’s former seat. “I miss Lowie, too, you know.”
“I’m certain Master Lowbacca misses all of his friends here at the academy as well.” Em Teedee’s electronic voice quavered. “I’m the only one he hasn’t any use for anymore.”
Jaina reached out and disconnected the silvery droid’s leads from the Rock Dragon’s diagnostic panels and tucked them back into his case. Carrying Em Teedee under one arm, Jaina went to the rear compartment where she stored maintenance supplies.
“You know, Em Teedee,” she said, “you’ll feel much better after a lubricant bath. Then I’m going to do that waterproofing I promised you.”
She placed a small bucket on the floor and opened the valve above it, letting an iridescent blue liquid flow into the pail.
“But, Mistress Jaina,” Em Teedee protested, “unlike my predecessor, See-Threepio, I have almost no moving parts. My continuous function does not rely on lubricant baths. Why, I’ve never even experienced one—”
“There’s a first time for everything,” Jaina said, shutting off the lubricant valve. She held Em Teedee above the full bucket and gave him a little pat. “Enjoy it. You’d be surprised what a good bath can do to change your outlook on things.” She lowered the little droid into the iridescent fluid.
Em Teedee had just enough time to say, “Indeed?” before his speaker grille was completely submerged.
Walking along beside Lusa after the midday meal, Raynar clasped his hands behind his back to keep himself from fidgeting. He had hardly expected the Centaur girl to agree when he’d offered to show her his favorite waterfall.
Well, she hadn’t actually agreed. Upon overhearing Lusa shyly turn down Raynar’s invitation, Master Skywalker had stepped in and encouraged her to reconsider. The Jedi teacher quietly reminded Lusa that as part of her healing she needed to learn to make new human friends. With obvious trepidation, Lusa had relented.
Now, alone with the cinnamon-maned Centaur girl, Raynar came to a belated realization. He had never really learned to make conversation with people whom he did not know, since people usually came to him to talk. Raynar had begun to learn negotiation techniques from his father—Bornan Thul could wield words much as Master Skywalker wielded his lightsaber—but he had unfortunately learned most of his conversational skills from his uncle Tyko’s proud boasts and blunt observations. Though his mother possessed grace and social skills in abundance, she had not yet managed to pass them on to her son.
Frantically trying to remember what Aryn had taught him about polite conversation, Raynar walked faster along the jungle path. A multicolored swarm of button beetles buzzed up from a nebula orchid where they had been feeding. Lusa let out a small gasp of delight at the shower of color.
Raynar held aside a branch that had grown across the path so that Lusa could pass without being scratched. He wondered whether his action would be seen as kind or merely insulting. She edged past him, nodding to Raynar in silent thanks. The tips of her crystal horns sparkled, and the tense rippling muscles in her cinnamon flanks seemed to relax a bit.
Encouraged, Raynar asked her a question. “What do you admire in …” He searched for a suitably neutral word. “I mean—what is it you look for in a friend, exactly?” He hoped that her answer would not be something simple and abrupt like, “I look for nonhumans as friends.” He didn’t want to remind her of the Diversity Alliance. Then again, he thought, perhaps he should consider it progress if she answered him at all.
At first Lusa said nothing. They continued in silence through a thicket of blueleaf until they emerged beside a chattering stream in a small clearing. Raynar turned and headed upstream.
Lusa finally answered him. “Loyalty. Commitment. Deep beliefs and a willingness to act on those beliefs. I look for an openness to finding new solutions to old problems.” She paused. “I guess those are some of the things that drew me to the Diversity Alliance.”
Raynar tensed at her mention of the political group. Before Lusa, he’d never been aware that he could be hated—not because he was proud and boastful, or because of the tough trading deals his family negotiated … but for no other reason than his species.
“Urn, the waterfall’s just a little farther that way.” He raised his arm to point higher along their route and accidentally brushed against Lusa. She instinctively recoiled from him and took off at a gallop upstream.
Startled, Raynar ran after her. He caught up with the Centaur girl beside the sparkling green pool at the base of the waterfall. She stood on the bank with her front hooves in the water, staring at her own reflection and shuddering.
“I … I’m really sorry,” Raynar blurted. “I didn’t mean to—”
“No,” she answered. “You did nothing wrong. Master Skywalker was correct: I let the Diversity Alliance poison my mind against humans, and now I must unlearn the hate they taught.” She tossed her head and sent him an apologetic smile. “Please be patient. It may take me a while.” She looked longingly at the waterfall, then back at Raynar. “Would you mind if I went in?”
Feeling humiliated that a brush of his arm had been so revolting to the beautiful girl, Raynar decided they could both use time to collect themselves. He climbed up onto a round boulder beside the stream. “Go ahead,” he said. “I’ll wait for you here.”
Lusa plunged into the pool and made straight for the deeper water beneath the surging waterfall. Watching the silvery liquid cascade over her, Raynar wondered if she would ever consider him her friend. Loyalty, she had said. Deep beliefs…. She looked for these things in her friends.
What exactly did he believe in, though? He believed in his training as a Jedi, he supposed. And when he finished that training he would go out on an assignment to defend the New Republic before taking his place as heir to the Bornaryn fleet.
But what about now? He believed in his family. How had he acted on that belief?
Raynar could go out to search for his father and his uncle, he mused, but as only one of many, many searchers. He would probably make no difference to the final outcome.
He could do nothing to protect his mother that she could not do for herself.
Bornaryn Trading headquarters on Coruscant did not need him.
So what could he do?
Lusa submerged herself completely in the water and then surfaced again, letting the rushing stream beat down on her head and shoulders, as if its flow could cleanse her inside and out.