Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private You're such a tool

Lothal Jedi Temple, Garden

Working meditation, the masters called it. The performance of mundane chores with unceasing attention to the present moment of every action. Right now, that meant the pain in her knees as she was kneeling on the hard floor next to an access panel on the wall.

Said working meditation often took the form of padawans being called upon to assist the Service Corps in various tasks, ostensively to ensure that they did not consider themselves to be above such work. In this case, she was assisting Jax Lerro, a rodian technician, and the service droid R-3BZ, who went by Beezee, with maintenance on the climate control system for the gardens. Perail knew nothing about how these things worked, and could only observe and do exactly what she was told to do.

The padawan next to her was clearly far more experienced. He had introduced himself as Jackson. Perail found his presence very intense and, truth be told, a bit intimidating. Her attention moved to his presence again as he removed the panel and put it down on the floor next to them. There was a lot of energy in him, energy that was looking for an outlet. Not that it seemed to Perail that he resented being here - in fact, right now the energy was being directed at their engineering task, however trivial it might be for him.

Suddenly, around the corner from them where Lerro and Beezee were to be suspected, cursing erupted - in Huttese, for those who could understand it, among whom Perail was not. But even on her it was not lost that what was being uttered was expressions of displeasure, followed by indignant beeping on the droid's part.

 


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Jackson didn’t look up right away when the cursing started, but the corner of his mouth twitched in the beginning of a smile. “That’s Beezee’s ‘I told you so’ routine,” he muttered, reaching carefully into the exposed guts of the climate control unit.

He glanced sideways at Perail, sensing her unease like a pressure in the air between them.

“Don’t worry,” he said, voice low and reassuring. “They’ll sort it out. Beezee always wins eventually.”

There was a faint clink as he unfastened something inside the panel, then offered the tool to Perail without breaking his focus.

“Hold that for me. Just like that, steady.”

His movements were quick but precise, practiced in a way that made it obvious this wasn't new to him.

"Back at the Enclave on Jakku, I used to help keep the moisture harvesters running. Harsh environment like that—things break all the time. You learn to fix them fast, or go without water. I didn't have a choice."

The padawan’s posture remained poised and efficient, but there was something almost meditative in the way he moved. Like he chose to pour all that restless energy into every screw turned, every wire checked. He wasn’t just completing a task, he was mastering it. Jackson, as intense as he was, made even this small act of service feel purposeful.

After a beat, he added, “You’re doing fine, by the way. First time’s always the most confusing. Just keep breathing. And let Beezee do the yelling.”

 

Perail
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followed Jackson's instructions as best she could and was happy to be of any help at all. Mindfulness rather went out the window, though.

Especially in light of the commotion behind them. It wasn't long before the rodian Jax Lerro emerged. "Can you believe it? Beezee misplaced half my tool box and now swears it's not his fault. Can't leave that droid to handle anything alone." Beezee beeped first vigorously, then dejectedly, and seemed to look at the Padawans pleadingly.

Perail dropped what she was holding, rather carelessly, and got up from the floor. She pulled her robe in shape - somehow she was still not used to the garment, it always seemed to her that it wandered upward under her belt and loosened and would eventually end up exposing her chest.

"But he swears last he saw the tool box, everything was in its place", she pointed out understandingly. She didn't like blame as a concept.

"He must be having memory problems!"

Beezee gave a scared beep.

 
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Jackson gave a low chuckle, tightening the last connection before easing back on his heels. “Beezee doesn’t forget anything, he said, glancing over his shoulder at the droid with an arched brow. “If he says it was in place, I’d start checking for gremlins. Or maybe someone’s been borrowing your tools again, Jax.”

Lerro huffed, clearly unconvinced, and went back to muttering under his breath in Rodese.

Perail’s robe fidgeting didn’t go unnoticed. Jackson stood as well, brushing his hands off on his pants, and offered her a half-smile. “You’ll get used to the robe. Eventually. Trick is to pin it down with a utility belt and to stop caring how you look in it.”

Then, with a wry glance at Beezee, who now looked thoroughly pitiful, he added in a mock-serious tone, “Though I will suggest a memory diagnostic later. Just in case. You know, for peace of mind.”

Beezee gave a soft, hopeful boop, as if relieved that someone believed in him.

Jackson looked back to Perail, his voice dropping just a little as he said, “Thanks for backing him up. Most people just assume the droid messed up.” He picked up the dropped tool she’d forgotten and placed it gently back on the tray. “You’ve got a good instinct for people. And machines.” A brief pause, then, teasing, “Even if you dropped the hydrospanner like it was on fire.”

 

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