The Jedi's Tales/Chapter 3

That night, Broot tossed and turned in bed. I’ve been here longer than he has. Why didn’t she pick me? Ah, well, good for him. I should be happy for him, and I am. So why can’t I stop thinking about it?

As the Rodian grumbled and groan, he sensed a small voice calling out for aid. Unable to ignore a cry for help, the youngling left the dormitory, slipped down the long, empty corridors, and made it to the Processional Way, where he found a tiny, brown ball of fur cowering at one of pedestal of one of the statues by the Temple entrance.

“Help!” The thing cried out pitifully, much to Broot’s surprise. “Is anyone there? Hello?”

“Can I help you?” Broot queried. The creature turned to face him, tears glistening in its baleful, yellow eyes. As Broot moved closer, he could see the creature was nursing its right hand.

“Yes, I’m lost and hurt. I was out looking for food one day, when I slipped and fell. I think -” the creature winced. “I think it’s broken.”

“Come with me. I think we can help you.” Broot proffered his hand. The creature hesitated for a second before climbing up onto his shoulder. “Don’t worry, uh… What’s your name?”

“Puhkay.”

“Thanks. Anyway, we have an excellent infirmary.”

“Are you sure the masters won’t mind?”

“Nah.”

The masters may not have minded Broot’s intentions, but they weren’t too happy about his actions. “Though well-intended you were, in danger you could have been.” Yoda reprimanded the young Jedi, the light from the afternoon sun gleaming in through the spire’s windows.

“But, Master Yoda…” The Rodian started.

“No buts,” Master Windu interjected. “He’s right.”

“What could have happened? What did I do wrong?”

“Someone might have been luring you out. The Dark side’s influence has been growing lately. We must be careful. Besides, the infirmary was intended for residents of the Temple.”

“Other non-Jedi have been allowed its use.”

“Those were life-or-death situations, young one.” Ki-Adi-Mundi stated.

“Excused, you are.” Yoda added. “Please wait outside while discuss your punishment, we do.”

With that, Broot entered the lift. It wasn’t long before he was called back in.

“We have decided,” Master Fisto began, “that your punishment will be cleaning out the stables tomorrow evening.”

“What about Puhkay?”

“He will be given full treatment, and released when he is completely healed.”

The next night, Broot wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Who knew a Kybuck could make such a powerful stench?” he asked as the Kybuck started pawing the ground uneasily. “Easy, girl! What’s the matter? Smell something?”

What they did to you is wrong. A voice not his own inaudibly called out to him.