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Comment Topic: Comment on the author's use of body language and dialogue to bring forth the main characters in the chapter. Min. length: 3 sentences. For this screening process, please post this response in a DM to SapphireAlena .

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An excerpt from SapphireAlena 's Open Novella Contest 2021 entry: The Colors of the Force.  The blurb to the story: 

Luke and Naluma have had a rough year, but their Force-bonded love has gotten them through the death of a student a few months earlier. However Luke's worried about Naluma, seemingly trapped at the Jedi Academy with three dozen Padawan driving her crazy in the dead of winter. 

After a month of planning, he surprises her with a vacation for just the two of them, the first one in the five years they've known each other ... and long overdue. However, their idyllic love is tested when Luke refuses to give Naluma what she desperately desires: a child of their own.

When the Force gets involved, the couple learns that imposing the words of man on the will of the supreme power in the galaxy is never going to work--and the Force plays dirty when accomplishing its will. Luke and Naluma don't stand a chance. 

"Padawan, when dealing with lightsaber burns, they come in two varieties—sealed or oozing." Naluma Fau brushed a sable hair from her face as she pulled up the first cauterized image. She hovered the red laser dot over the crusty injury on the holoprojector the students gathered around. "You can see here that when Jedi Kalder severed—"

"Excuse me, Jedi Fau?"

The words sent shivers up her spine. He was back early. All sixty-nine kilos of Luke Skywalker, his sandy-blond curls softening his chiseled cheeks and highlighting his wide smile. His sapphire aura blazed into the darkened room like a sunny day. To the rest of the galaxy, he was the protector of peace and justice. To Naluma, he was her spirit-bonded companion, the one who completed her.

Too many eyes watching right now. Can't let anything slip. She bowed her head with respect to his professional authority and replied, "Master Skywalker."

He stepped into the science lab where Padawan stood at attention. "As you were, Padawan. Jedi Fau, may I have a word with you in the hall?"

Clicking off the hologram, she said, "Padawan, I want you to read through the field guide on identification and treatment of the different burns. When I return, I will continue the lecture."

After the lithe Jedi Knight stepped through the portal, Luke grasped her hand and intertwined his fingers into hers. With that simple touch, the Force within them merged, shooting warmth straight to Naluma's heart and a shy smile to her face.

As the purple and blue currents coalesced between them, Luke cupped her cheeks. His lips brushed hers gently at first. With a sigh, she nibbled his lower lip and ran her hand down his back, pulling herself against him. He traced her neck with his mouth before pressing it to hers. Not just a peck, but a conflagration of desire. A hunger that could not be satisfied—not ever.

With that kiss, Naluma broke away. "Oh, kriff, have I missed you. It's been a very long month without you, Luke." She laid her head on his shoulder and listened to his heart pound while he wrapped his arms around her.

"I know." He groaned. "I couldn't wait one minute longer."

Naluma chuckled. "I thought Jedi Masters had immeasurable patience."

"That's what we want you to think." He grinned. "Let's blow this joint. Run off somewhere."

"Luke, be reasonable. We can't just leave three dozen Padawan to fend for themselves." Humming, she planted a playful kiss on his nose. "No matter how good that sounds right now." She shuddered at the sight of snow drifts piled up in the courtyard through the corridor window. "I'd do anything for some sunshine."

He backed her into the plastcrete and leaned over her with one hand on either side of her head. He raised his eyebrows and transformed his good-natured grin into a mischievous smirk. "Anything?"

"What did you have in mind?"

"Kalder's back. Let him hold down the fort for a week."

"And?"

"Run off to that new casino on Cantonica." He twisted the errant wisp of her hair in his finger. "Pretend we're anything but Jedi."

She snorted. "Pass. What else do you have?"

"Tour the tropical gardens of Felucia?"

"Absolutely not. Next."

Luke titled his head and gave a quick smile. "How about Naboo?"

Naluma inclined her head as something inside her clicked.

"It has culture, the arts, cuisine from a million star systems, and beautiful waterfalls."

"It's not winter there right now, is it?"

"A balmy 30 degrees in the capital of Theed. I think it will warm you up." He winked.

But the feeling wouldn't go away. Please, not another mission. Kriff! Can we just have a week to ourselves? There was no way around it. The Force wouldn't give her peace until she agreed.

Naluma entwined her arms around Luke's head and lightly ran her fingers through his curls before pulling his mouth to hers for one more long kiss. "You've got yourself a date." While pushing him away, she said, "Go square this with Kalder while I finish up my class."

"How long do you need?"

"Give me an hour."

He hollered down the hallway, "Make it thirty."

She yelled over her shoulder, "Twenty!"

As she entered the room, she beamed at the grinning faces looking up from their datapads. His light filled her heart now. "Class dismissed." If only I didn't have a bad feeling about this.

✧ ∙ ° : * ✧ ∙ ° : * ∙ ° ✧

Naluma leaned her back into Luke's chest as he wrapped his arms around her waist. For the first time in over year she wasn't wearing a blasted Jedi uniform, and neither was he. The only thing that might give them away were their two lightsabers swinging on Luke's belt.

The Nubian customs and immigration line on the Theed landing platform was taking forever, but she didn't care as long as she was in the sunlight. The blessedly hot sunlight. Even in her purple halter sundress she was warm. The slight breeze was just enough to dry the perspiration. It made waiting in line a pleasure, as long as she was with Luke.

Eventually, they reached the customs agent, a compact woman in a uniform of deep blue and maroon piping. Sweat dripped from her brow and her curly hair was plastered to her scalp. "Passports and declarations, please."

While Luke fished out their papers, Naluma grabbed her New Republic identification cylinder from her spaghetti-strap clutch. The heavenly scent of roasted meat from the food carts across the terminal drew her like a tractor beam. Naluma's stomach grumbled like a Hutt's.

Agent Sorcha, as her name tag read, handed them back their code cylinders. "What brings you to Naboo, Master Skywalker and Jedi Fau."

"Sh." Luke looked around and asked, "Could you keep it down? We're trying to get away. Personal vacation."

She sized them up before asking, "Then why the lightsabers?" Both Naluma's and Luke's swung on his belt.

Naluma grimaced.

"Never go anywhere without them. It's part of the code," Luke said.

The official crossed her arms and blocked the turnstile. "I'm sorry, but we cannot allow anyone to bring weapons onto the planet. They will need to remain on your craft."

Gazing at Luke, Naluma grinned. Might as well.

The Jedi Master lifted his hand with his long digits and waved it in front of the agent's face. "We can keep our weapons."

She repeated with a blank face. "You can keep your weapons."

"There is no need to declare them."

"There is no need to declare them."

"Enjoy your visit."

"Enjoy your visit," she echoed as she unlocked the turnstile.

Once through, Naluma broke out in laughter. That never gets old, she sent as thought to Luke.

Oh, want to be the next victim of a Jedi mind-trick?

Don't you dare.

With the setting sun emblazoning in an ethereal glow the warm marble behind them, Luke maneuvered Naluma in front of him and ran his fingers through her long hair, for once hanging free down her back. He tilted her head in his hands and touched his lips to hers. "We're finally free. Finally here." He motioned to the sprawling city around them. "What do you want to do first?"

Her stomach growled again, speaking for her. "Dinner. That roasting ata smells so good."

Luke pulled up the map on his datapad and paged through restaurant listings. "Here's one, not too far from here. Specializes in traditional Nubian fare. Want to try it?"

Naluma wriggled under his arm and peered over his datapad. The device scrolled pictures of braised meats, roasted seafood, steamed noodles, and rich sauces. "Yeah, that looks great." She contemplated him in his khaki slacks and light-blue plaid dress shirt. "You think they'll let us in looking like this?"

Through their Force-bond, Naluma felt him run his eyes down her figure, focusing on her ample chest accentuated by the halter top of the sundress. As he spun her around, his eyes zeroed in on her bare, muscled back. The gathered skirt lifted in the breeze, displaying her long legs that were usually covered by utilitarian Jedi blacks.

With a gulp, he winked. "With you in that dress, they won't be looking at me. Trust me."

She pitched back her head and laughed, a laugh she hadn't laughed in simply ages. Away from the stress of the academy, in the middle of a bustling street at dusk, just her and her best friend—the only two people in the galaxy—or so it seemed.

✧ ∙ ° : * ✧ ∙ ° : * ∙ ° ✧

"Could I interest you in dessert?" The human waiter with dark, curly hair displayed a tray with fruit carved into crescents and stars, ice cream drizzled with a luscious meiloorun sauce, and a mascarpone sponge cake drizzled in decadent lishi flakes and orange liqueur.

Naluma leaned in, sampling the aroma of the dark lishi flakes on the cake. She shot Luke a cheeky smile. "Share one with me?"

"Sure."

As the waiter set the plate and two forks on the table, he said, "May I also interest you in a brandy or perhaps champagne to celebrate The Festival of Light tonight?" He gestured to the lake beyond the edge of the terrace, about ten meters below them. Crowds had settled around the edges on this warm summer night.

"What's this festival?" Naluma asked.

"It is our annual festival to celebrate our joining the Republic 876 years ago today." His genuine smile beamed. "You have purchased The Festival of Light dinner package, complete with dessert and liqueur and prime seating at the edge of the terrace. The lake will come to life with dancing waters and the heavens with cascading skyrockets. The Theed National Orchestra will tell the story of our planet through our cultural music."

Naluma caressed Luke's hand across the table and grinned. "You had this planned all along, didn't you?"

He nodded and leaned in for a kiss.

She playfully hit his arm. "You set me up with Cantonica and Felucia. You knew I wouldn't want to go there."

Raising a finger, he turned his attention to the server. "Could you bring us two flutes of sparkling fruit juice? No alcohol, please."

"Certainly, sir." The waiter bowed slightly, still holding his tray level, and then rushed to the bar.

After nibbling on a bite of the rich custard-like cake and sucking the lishi off the fork, she asked, "How long have you been planning this?"

"A few months. Since ..."

They said his name in unison, darkness sullying an otherwise happy time, "... Dashka."

A cello bellowed from the orchestra on the shoreline. A trio of cymbals joined as jets of water shot into the evening sky. Fountains of light joined the rest of the musicians, and Naluma spotted the conductor in front of her musical ensemble. The light migrated to the quick bursts of gushing water.

Illuminated in blues and greens, dancing streams of water interrupted their sadness over the student who died on a training excursion. Luke scooted his chair beside Naluma and wrapped his arm around her bare shoulders.

Rivulets flowed through the air, transforming across the colors of the rainbow now as the orchestra segued into a rondo. The water collapsed into the lake before it sprang up as a thulian pink flower in the center, the petals pulsating outward toward the beaches. Popping geysers turning purple, yellow, red, and aqua cavorted to the pulsing tympani and burgeoning brass.

The water picked up a variety of textures, criss-crossing in the front while undulating toward the center. Soon, spurts of water shot into the air, some rippling across in sequence, while others working to a different pattern. The colors and the patterns constantly wavering until a single stream climbed into the air, never breaking from its source, ever rising. The fountain burbled at twenty meters for a few seconds before plunging into the lake once more.

Mesmerized, Naluma barely registered Luke running his fingers through her hair. Occasionally, he leaned against her and nuzzled her neck, his earthy smell driving her wild.

At a rest in the movement of the music and display, Naluma sipped her sparkling fruit juice. "Thank you, Luke. This is wonderful!"

"I'm sorry you miss out on so much at the academy, 'Luma." He took a swig from his flute, too. "I hope this makes up—"

A barrage of fireworks cannoned over his last words. Sparkling gold streamers shot across the sky as the water kicked up again. The orchestra strengthened their notes to the synchronized visual display, capturing Naluma's attention once more. She didn't want it to end. Everything was idyllic here—the food, the music, the show, but most of all, the company, her Force-bonded love—Luke.

✧ ∙ ° : * ✧ ∙ ° : * ∙ ° ✧

An hour later after the show concluded with a spectacular fireworks encore, Luke and Naluma walked hand-in-hand down the main street, her head resting on his shoulder.

"The hotel's not far from here. A former villa. Tourist company rents it out to guests, ensuring privacy." Luke caught her as she stumbled on the cobble-stone street. "Easy there, 'Luma."

She pulled him to a halt in the middle of the street, the fading remnants of private pyrotechnics coloring the midnight sky behind them. "Thank you. Tonight was the best thing that ever happened to me." Stroking his face, she pressed her lips to his. Love you. But what started as chaste peck morphed into an urgent hunger, each desiring the other, to be close, to be one.

He broke it off. 'Luma, don't do that to me.

What? You were liking it.

That's the problem. You know we can't. He linked his arm into hers and spoke aloud, "Let's just get to the hotel. I think we could both use a good night's sleep."

✧ ∙ ° : * ✧ ∙ ° : * ∙ ° ✧

After a few hundred meters in awkward silence, they arrived at the villa. The lobby bustled with people drinking and mingling.

Luke pushed his way to the registration desk, Naluma beside him. "I'd like to check in. Two rooms for Fau."

The dark-haired girl with olive complexion and almond-shaped eyes sputtered. "I'm sorry, Mr. Fau, but there must be some mistake. We only have one room for you."

"I specifically reserved your two best rooms."

She bowed slightly and blushed, flashing a sincere smile. "I can get my manager, but we're all booked up because of the festival."

Naluma placed her hand on Luke's. "No, that's okay. Can you bring in a cot?"

The girl was tearing up. "I'm sorry, ma'am, I wish I could, but we don't even have one on the premises."

"Never mind. We'll take the room." Grabbing the datapad, Naluma scrawled her name on the registration receipt. "I'm Fau—he's ... well, he's someone who might be sleeping on the floor tonight."

"Ma'am, I need your ID cylinders. Republic policy." The girl took Naluma's first and then Luke's. Her eyes widened and so did her mouth. "You're Luke Sk—"

"Yes, he is. But we'd appreciate your keeping that to yourself." Naluma snatched the keys from the girl. "Did the servodroid deliver our luggage?"

The clerk scanned through her terminal. "Yes, ma'am. Already unpacked in the Honeymoon Suite for you. The suite boasts a private sitting room and overlooks the southern shore. The climbing candlewick flowers are fragrant treats. Their pale orange-and-gold luminescent petals encase your secluded terrace."

Naluma turned on Luke, eyes glaring and mouth scrunched tight, but Luke burst out in laughter. "Come on, Mid-Rim problems. At least we aren't in a tent buried in three meters of snow in Wild Space."

"Thank the Force!" Naluma grinned as she took his proffered hand.

Luke bowed at the waist as they had seen actors do in old vids. "My lady, your chamber awaits. Would you accompany me?"

"Gladly, sir knight."