A Good Feeling

Gort turned the pages of his Illuvian poetry without reading the words or feeling the antique paper, his mind cast about elsewhere. He had turned over the sensor array to another crewmember and retreated into his cabin in the Rampant Standard.

After a few minutes where the poetry might as well have been huttese for all he had taken in, Gort headed down to the cargo bay. Jibacca would be beginning his practice session any time now, and Gort wondered how he was progressing…


Well, well, well.

The wookie was good. Very good. The force pushes in the battle for Dugan’s Hand had been nothing compared to the fine control and impressive strength he displayed now. He made it look so natural.

For the first time in what felt like ages, Gort smiled. It could only be the Force itself that would bring not one, but two incredibly talented individuals and the wealth of holocrons necessary to train them into his path. How could he ever have doubted? Javrice’s excesses and Jibacca’s naivete were merely the foundation for their grand destiny as members of a new jedi order.

He excused himself from the wookie’s practice session and returned to his quarters with a new light in his eyes. He pulled up the records he had made of each holocron’s contents and began to categorize and rearrange them. A series of lesson plans began to emerge from the wash of knowledge project in bright blue light.

He sent word to Jibacca and Javrice over the comms.

Their training would commence immediately.



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