The Nurse and the Assassin.

It was play time when Siti first felt the desperate outcry of her brethren. First far away, light after light being extinguished in a blaze of violence. She backed up and dropped into her rocking chair, a bony hand clasped over her mouth in disbelief. There was a war on and there had been many casualties over the last few years, but this was different. This was an onslaught of unprecedented vigor with the Dark Side’s fingerprints all over it. Pain and sadness engulfed her in a giant wave, pressing heavy on her chest. Under her breath, Siti recited some aspirations for the happiness of all beings and an unhindered passing into the Force for her fallen friends. It was bad for anyone in the order to let emotions linger, but especially so for her. Infants strong with the Force are sensitive and the very first part of their training is learning not to cling to their feelings. A Jedi acknowledges his emotions, then lets them go. Clinging to feelings leads to clinging to ego and that, in turn, leads dangerously close to the Dark Side.

Siti had just managed to calm her self when matters got much worse. A red light next to the nursery’s entrance started blinking, indicating that someone had activated the silent alarm. Fear now crept into the pit of Siti’s stomach and as she heard the muffled sounds of a battle and the agonizing disruptions in the Force, it exploded, running through her veins like engine coolant through a transport vessel. The infants felt it too and broke out in panicky wails.

Siti bolted up and stumbled to the bathroom. With shaking hands she opened the medicine cabinet and counted the tops of the tincture bottles with her fingertips. Fifth from the right should be a sleeping tincture the healers had given her for emergencies. She had to calm the infants fast if she was to have any hope of hiding them. She squeezed the top and opened the bottle, sending the glass dropper clattering against the sides. A quick sniff confirmed that it was indeed the sleeping tincture. The scent of Corellian lavender was unmistakable.

“Hush, my hearts. Time to sleep,” she said as she administered the tincture to the infants one by one, brushing a hand over their little heads.

Her own fear had subsided, leaving only sadness in it’s place and from somewhere deep within, she felt the need to kiss the sleeping angels, almost knowing this was her last goodbye. She did so, trying to graft the memory of each one’s scent and touch and happy smile into her mind. Siti placed them all close together as the depth of the tincture induced slumber would cause their body temperatures to drop quite a bit. Then she covered them with a blanket and headed for the kitchen. There were no weapons in the nursery, so Siti grabbed the only things that even remotely resembled one; the two small knives she used for peeling fruit. She hid them in the deep pockets of her robe, then sat down near the children and meditated, trying desperately to hide the small life signs in the nursery.

in the back of Siti’s mind, there lingered the memory of how she had come to serve as infant nurse. She had been twelve years old and hadn’t been chosen by any of the knights to be a padawan. Siti knew her disability put certain limitations on her life, but one didn’t need eyes to see through the Force and she had been confused, even a bit angry perhaps, that she would not have a chance at knighthood. All ties to her birth family had been cut when she was taken in as a Jedi hopeful, which made her fear for a future without the order. Master Yoda had graciously granted her an audience to talk about her concerns.

Siti had beat around the bush at first, craftily disguising her worries, coating the conversations with pleasantries.

“Good are you at hiding your feelings, youngling. Now learn to let them go, you must.”

“Master Yoda, I just want to know if the order will take care of me.”

The ancient Jedi had laughed at that.

“No, youngling. Take care of us, you will.”

And that had been that. Never one to question the Masters’ infinite wisdom, Siti became the caretaker, learning about compassion and the developing mind instead of defense and sentry. She learned how to make her body produce food instead of wielding a lightsaber. Siti hoped Master Yoda had chosen well. She hoped she could save the infants.

The chiming of the double doors brought her back from reverie. Someone was trying to override the lock down. She would not let the doors open. Then she felt someone reaching out to her through the Force.

It’s a Jedi. We are saved.

Siti let the doors swing open.

“Who’s there?”

Her voice reverberated with both trepidation and hope.