Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Jun 11, 2011 0:27:17 GMT -5
Time period: 3603 BBY
Location: Shili
Participants: Sherasti Rin, Hult Pedara (NPC)
Other Info: This post demonstrates the new connection to her race that Sherasti feels upon a mission to Shili, the home planet of the Togruta.
Sherasti Rin peered through a gap in the waving turu-grass, eyeing the akul moving slowly before her. The large predator was unaware of her, which was incredibly gratifying to the Togruta Jedi. She’d never been hunting before, at all. But moving quietly and without detection had been a skill she’d inherently developed, one that had been incredibly useful in her service as a Padawan. Now she used those skills for stalking the most-feared, or rather the only feared, predator on Shili.
This particular one had made the mistake of attacking the outlying village Sherasti and her master had been visiting. The native Togruta had wounded it in an initial defense, but the honor remained for someone to track it and make the kill. Sherasti had leapt at the opportunity. Though born on Abregado-rae, she was still very much a Togruta at heart. The stay on Shili had reinforced that sense of identity even more, and as chance would have it she’d been welcomed with open arms by her people. In just a few days she’d been ‘adopted’ as it were. And that was probably why she’d been offered this honor.
Sherasti gripped her lightsaber a little harder. Taking down an Akul wasn’t an easy prospect, but she was banking on speed and precision. If it came to a protracted battle of brute strength she knew she would lose. She flexed her left arm, painfully aware of its state. Two years ago she’d been on assignment with Master Pedara when they’d thwarted an assassination attempt on a politician. And by ‘thwarted’ she meant to say that she’d shoved the target to the ground and been blown across the room by the shockwave of an explosion. Her arm had shattered into so many pieces it was a miracle they’d been able to reassemble any of it. That she had any control at all in it was testimony to both the skill of the healers and the efforts of the Jedi herself. She simply lacked the power and agility in that arm to face down a large predator like an akul. Even her Shii Cho had suffered slightly and had become a one-handed style. Increasingly she’d become more reliant on evading blows, and using the Force to see at least one step ahead of her foes.
But, she relied almost exclusively on Makashi now, and its precise finesse worked better against other Jedi than animals. It meant she’d simply have to be creative. With her limited physical abilities she’d only have one chance to leap onto the creature’s back. And from there she’d have to do as much damage as she could. The akul’s neck would be exposed from there, and the native Togruta had said both the arteries and spine were vulnerable spots. And if anyone knew how to hunt an akul in the universe it was the Togruta.
Sherasti closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and leaped.
She sprang into action, the force filling her. Now she had a precise sense of purpose, her actions dictated by the force. Her eyes opened, but they only served to show where she was rather than what she was doing. The Togruta dropped onto the akul’s back, straddling it thoroughly to prevent falling off. Her lightsaber was already out and in her hand, the green blade moving as if on its own. She could feel the creature shudder underneath her, providing feedback on her success. That meant she’d probably hit the spinal cord. She redoubled her efforts and was rewarded as the creature now did little more than twitch. Severing the spinal cord had succeeded in paralyzing it’s powerful legs, and now came the task of the hunter. The final fight.
Sherasti dropped down in front of the creature, its large jaws snapping at her as she fell. When she hit the ground the Togruta turned the movement into a roll, saving momentum and evading the predator’s gaping maw. She straightened started to make quick slashes at the creature’s vitals. The eyes went first, followed by the nostrils. Every time the akul’s jaws neared her, the Jedi ducked and weaved while striking again, as if practicing some graceful dance. Stroke by stroke reduced the predator to a stationary mass of orange fur. Finally it collapsed, its fate decided. A quick Makashi salute to her fallen quarry, and the Togruta dispatched it with a precise stab through the skull.
She’d done it, taken down an akul. And that cemented her place among her people. A wide smile appeared on her rust-colored face. From behind her came the sound of applause. The Jedi turned and saw Master Pedara, accompanied by several of the village hunters. Pedara seemed to be rather amused by all the hubbub. The Corellian had never quite understood the concept of hunting, and Sherasti had her suspicions that watching her eat was a battle of restraint for him. Humans didn’t seem to embrace the concept of eating rodents in the first place, and they positively frowned on killing it at the table with a well-placed bite.
The other Togruta though seemed impressed. The tribe Matriarch especially. She bowed respectfully before speaking in Togruti, a gesture that Sherasti returned and a language that she spoke.
“Never before have I seen a hunter take down an akul that quickly. And you still allowed it a final fight. Every one of us respects you for that, and in fact, you would honor us if you agreed to become a member of our tribe.”
Sherasti’s jaw dropped. The Togruta Padawan had never even imagined being extended that offer. Sure she’d been ‘adopted’ emotionally, but for an outsider to be considered kin? It was an immense honor, and it marked a second family for her. Now the tribe would share a special place in her heart along with the Jedi Order. She nodded her approval and paired it with a toothy smile. “That would honor me as well.” She replied calmly and evenly.
“Good,” said that Matriarch, “Then tonight you will be accepted into the tribe with a feast and a sash of your own. Also, tradition dictates that you wear the teeth of your prey. If you would like, I will have one of our artisans prepare them for you as a headdress.”
Sherasti looked to Pedara for approval, wondering if the ornamentation was permissible. She received a nod and a few quick words in response. “If I can wear green Corellian silk, then you can wear a headdress and sash.”
The Togruta Padawan looked back to the Matriarch. “Thank you. I will accept that offer gratefully.”
And with that, they set back off through the scrub and into the forest, returning to the village and preparing for a celebration. Every bit of excitement Sherasti had drowned out the sense of dread in Pedara, who wasn’t looking forward to the table manners of an entire tribe of Togruta.
Master Pedara’s fears turned out to be true for the most part, the meal was extremely Togruta. He’d never had as much meat before in his life. Out of courtesy it was cooked and served with spices, a luxury and unusual occurrence for a carnivorous species. But the food itself wasn’t his main objection, it was the table manners.
Corellians weren’t exactly refined, but they ate with silverware and they cut their food into manageable bites. In contrast, the Togruta seemed to eat with their bare hands and bite off chunks. With canine teeth like that though it was understandable. Still though, it wasn’t appetizing to watch them eat. But perversely at the same time not eating would be an insult. So Master Pedara found himself in the familiar position of eating unusual food when he didn’t want to, finding the right balance between not eating anything and eating more than he could. Years of diplomacy had taught him that skill.
In sharp contrast, Sherasti was soaking it all in like a sponge. It was like watching a Selkath in water or a Gammorean in mud. If Pedara hadn’t known better, he’d have thought she was born and raised on Shili instead of born on Abregado-rae and raised on the streets. Of course that upbringing was totally behind her now, she was a Jedi through and through. But something in her blood, in her very essence was calling to her.
And she was answering. She had her new headdress now and was wearing it proudly. It was a work of art, but a subtle one. Crafted with finesse, it relied more on the beauty of the akul teeth themselves than on any other precious material. A simple braided leather band held it in place, and the teeth stood up along the periphery of her forehead. Their lines were sharp, clean, and distinct from up close. But from a distance they became a sort of gray-colored tiara, resting on the base of the montrals as if held there by magic.
But the pride with which she wore it was not the sort of false pride that led to the dark side, but rather a healthy respect for her culture. If asked by a master, she’d have relinquished it immediately. It was simply a matter of discovering herself. And Pedara supported that unconditionally.
He rose and excused himself from the festivities, stepping away from the bonfire and the main circle around it. The flickering light of the fire cast dancing shadows onto the undergrowth around them. Through a gap in the trees’ canopies he could see the night sky and the twinkling stars. Shili was a strange place to behold in the day, a mass of unusually shaped plants in unusual colors mixed with a huge diversity of terrain. And at night it became even more… magical. If magical was the right term. The angles seemed to change, and the oranges, reds, whites, and blues of the day seemed to blend together into an almost grayscale sketch with a silvery-blue light illuminating each detail.
Sherasti appeared at Pedara’s side unbidden. She had a knack for detecting her master’s moods, and she had great loyalty. It was a Togruta trait, one she had applied to the Jedi Order in general and Master Pedara in particular.
“Is something wrong Master?” She asked, concern evident in her voice.
“Oh, nothing much. You know how I feel about your, um, eating habits.” Pedara confessed. “I know its not the most tolerant view to hold, but I can’t really help it. Sorry.” He apologized.
Sherasti grimaced a little, accidentally revealing her fangs with the human facial expression. “Sorry,” she apologized right back in her lilting voice. “I don’t mean to be rude. But on the bright side, at least thimiars weren’t on the menu today.” A roguish smile appeared on her face, the one she reserved for especially happy moments. She knew her master hated it when she ate the small rodents in front of him.
Pedara couldn’t help but laugh. “You know, the first time I saw you eat one I thought you were poisonous! Really though, you happen to be the first Togruta I’ve ever known personally. From your bright colors and the way that little rodent twitched I was convinced you were venomous, I really was.”
Both of them laughed at the thought. It seemed absurd, but it was also surprisingly common. Certainly the Togruta didn’t dispel the misconception. In a way it was amusing for Sherasti. To those who knew her she was the most approachable and unintimidating person imaginable. But to the uninitiated she was a tall, poisonous, carnivore capable of blending into the shadows and striking silently.
Perhaps some of it was true. She was deadly, but graceful and subtle as well. A rose, with thorns. But still a flower. And this flower had control over her sharp parts. Her predatory instincts extended no further than various small rodents.
“Really though Master, I am sorry you aren’t more at home here. It feels so natural for me, but for you it must be terribly… well, primitive. Simplistic. I promise not to stay much longer.”
Pedara held up a staying hand. “No, I won’t be selfish in that way. We’ll leave when the mission is done and only for that reason. I won’t cut short this experience for you simply because I’m not comfortable with it. If I control you that way you’ll never learn or find your place as a Jedi Knight. So get back over there to your People and enjoy yourself a while longer. If we do leave tomorrow it will be because our job is done.”
“Yes Master Pedara,” Sherasti replied dutifully as she turned and headed back to the celebration. Just before she reentered the firelight she looked over her shoulder and smiled. It was another way of expressing her thanks.
Pedara smiled back and waved her on. Watching Sherasti Rin grow from a little girl to a woman had been staggering. She had reached her full height, her montrals had crested, and her skin had darkened and started to take on a rust color instead of the youthful orange one. Though the Corellian Jedi’s standards of growth were more along human lines, he was still amazed by how Sherasti had changed. She was a daughter to him really, and also a friend. Increasingly as the end of her apprenticeship loomed, Hult Pedara felt just how lucky he was to have had her as his Padawan. She hadn’t been his first, or even his second, but she had been his third. All the errors he’d made at first had been reduced or eliminated, only to have others rear their heads like a mythical hydra. But Sherasti had stayed strong and determined while ever-increasing her confidence and trust in the Jedi Code. She’d succeeded in developing true wisdom well before he ever had. He couldn’t tell whether it was some innate part of the Jedi, or whether it had something to do with her species. But either way, he’d never known a Jedi like his apprentice.
He had to admit, it was incredibly hard to see darkness in her. If not for the fact that he knew better he’d have said there was no dark seed in her. But every servant of the light had the terrible potential to turn. Sherasti was simply skilled and sagacious enough to successfully lock away that seed and deny it what it needed to grow. Her devotion to the Jedi Code, and to her own personal code, was absolute. She possessed mercy, compassion, and increasing wisdom.
Still, the rose had her thorns. Sometimes she didn’t understand or empathize as she should. Financial matters befuddled her. Opinions could often wound her. But other thorns were beneficial, her swordsmanship for instance. Precise, elegant, and rapid. She took to the duel like a dancer to the stage or an artist to the canvas despite her own inherent disadvantage. Years ago on Pantolomin he’d almost lost her. For days he’d been on edge, frightened at the prospect even. A Jedi was supposed to be able to let go, but it was a challenge. Thankfully one he never had to face; though battered and seriously wounded, Sherasti had survived. Her left arm had been mangled beyond the abilities of medicine to fully repair. It had been patched and mended well enough, and the Togruta could use it for most day-to-day activities. But it effectively stopped her from using most of the lightsaber forms that emphasized power.
But even that didn’t daunt the Rose, instead her thorns became sharper and her petals more beautiful than before. She had an effortless Makashi blade work he’d never seen in a Jedi Consular before. Though she had yet to become a Knight, already Pedara was confident that would be her path. She had such patience, such skill in telepathy, and such wisdom that seeing her in any other specialization was laughable. She didn’t enjoy the battle in the way a Guardian would. She respected their practice sparring, and took to it naturally, but it wasn’t her forte. Neither was she a ‘ferret’ like the Sentinels, sniffing out trouble and fixing problems. She lacked the wide array of skills, and like Pedara was dependent on others to help carry out the mission. She could only be a Consular. It was a perfect fit for her.
With one last look at the heavens, Master Hult Pedara turned back to the gathering. He’d tolerate more red meat and bad table manners, for Sherasti. She deserved his support, and she deserved the honor today. She’d won a victory, for the tribe and above all for herself. Yes, she had earned it.
Location: Shili
Participants: Sherasti Rin, Hult Pedara (NPC)
Other Info: This post demonstrates the new connection to her race that Sherasti feels upon a mission to Shili, the home planet of the Togruta.
Sherasti Rin peered through a gap in the waving turu-grass, eyeing the akul moving slowly before her. The large predator was unaware of her, which was incredibly gratifying to the Togruta Jedi. She’d never been hunting before, at all. But moving quietly and without detection had been a skill she’d inherently developed, one that had been incredibly useful in her service as a Padawan. Now she used those skills for stalking the most-feared, or rather the only feared, predator on Shili.
This particular one had made the mistake of attacking the outlying village Sherasti and her master had been visiting. The native Togruta had wounded it in an initial defense, but the honor remained for someone to track it and make the kill. Sherasti had leapt at the opportunity. Though born on Abregado-rae, she was still very much a Togruta at heart. The stay on Shili had reinforced that sense of identity even more, and as chance would have it she’d been welcomed with open arms by her people. In just a few days she’d been ‘adopted’ as it were. And that was probably why she’d been offered this honor.
Sherasti gripped her lightsaber a little harder. Taking down an Akul wasn’t an easy prospect, but she was banking on speed and precision. If it came to a protracted battle of brute strength she knew she would lose. She flexed her left arm, painfully aware of its state. Two years ago she’d been on assignment with Master Pedara when they’d thwarted an assassination attempt on a politician. And by ‘thwarted’ she meant to say that she’d shoved the target to the ground and been blown across the room by the shockwave of an explosion. Her arm had shattered into so many pieces it was a miracle they’d been able to reassemble any of it. That she had any control at all in it was testimony to both the skill of the healers and the efforts of the Jedi herself. She simply lacked the power and agility in that arm to face down a large predator like an akul. Even her Shii Cho had suffered slightly and had become a one-handed style. Increasingly she’d become more reliant on evading blows, and using the Force to see at least one step ahead of her foes.
But, she relied almost exclusively on Makashi now, and its precise finesse worked better against other Jedi than animals. It meant she’d simply have to be creative. With her limited physical abilities she’d only have one chance to leap onto the creature’s back. And from there she’d have to do as much damage as she could. The akul’s neck would be exposed from there, and the native Togruta had said both the arteries and spine were vulnerable spots. And if anyone knew how to hunt an akul in the universe it was the Togruta.
Sherasti closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and leaped.
She sprang into action, the force filling her. Now she had a precise sense of purpose, her actions dictated by the force. Her eyes opened, but they only served to show where she was rather than what she was doing. The Togruta dropped onto the akul’s back, straddling it thoroughly to prevent falling off. Her lightsaber was already out and in her hand, the green blade moving as if on its own. She could feel the creature shudder underneath her, providing feedback on her success. That meant she’d probably hit the spinal cord. She redoubled her efforts and was rewarded as the creature now did little more than twitch. Severing the spinal cord had succeeded in paralyzing it’s powerful legs, and now came the task of the hunter. The final fight.
Sherasti dropped down in front of the creature, its large jaws snapping at her as she fell. When she hit the ground the Togruta turned the movement into a roll, saving momentum and evading the predator’s gaping maw. She straightened started to make quick slashes at the creature’s vitals. The eyes went first, followed by the nostrils. Every time the akul’s jaws neared her, the Jedi ducked and weaved while striking again, as if practicing some graceful dance. Stroke by stroke reduced the predator to a stationary mass of orange fur. Finally it collapsed, its fate decided. A quick Makashi salute to her fallen quarry, and the Togruta dispatched it with a precise stab through the skull.
She’d done it, taken down an akul. And that cemented her place among her people. A wide smile appeared on her rust-colored face. From behind her came the sound of applause. The Jedi turned and saw Master Pedara, accompanied by several of the village hunters. Pedara seemed to be rather amused by all the hubbub. The Corellian had never quite understood the concept of hunting, and Sherasti had her suspicions that watching her eat was a battle of restraint for him. Humans didn’t seem to embrace the concept of eating rodents in the first place, and they positively frowned on killing it at the table with a well-placed bite.
The other Togruta though seemed impressed. The tribe Matriarch especially. She bowed respectfully before speaking in Togruti, a gesture that Sherasti returned and a language that she spoke.
“Never before have I seen a hunter take down an akul that quickly. And you still allowed it a final fight. Every one of us respects you for that, and in fact, you would honor us if you agreed to become a member of our tribe.”
Sherasti’s jaw dropped. The Togruta Padawan had never even imagined being extended that offer. Sure she’d been ‘adopted’ emotionally, but for an outsider to be considered kin? It was an immense honor, and it marked a second family for her. Now the tribe would share a special place in her heart along with the Jedi Order. She nodded her approval and paired it with a toothy smile. “That would honor me as well.” She replied calmly and evenly.
“Good,” said that Matriarch, “Then tonight you will be accepted into the tribe with a feast and a sash of your own. Also, tradition dictates that you wear the teeth of your prey. If you would like, I will have one of our artisans prepare them for you as a headdress.”
Sherasti looked to Pedara for approval, wondering if the ornamentation was permissible. She received a nod and a few quick words in response. “If I can wear green Corellian silk, then you can wear a headdress and sash.”
The Togruta Padawan looked back to the Matriarch. “Thank you. I will accept that offer gratefully.”
And with that, they set back off through the scrub and into the forest, returning to the village and preparing for a celebration. Every bit of excitement Sherasti had drowned out the sense of dread in Pedara, who wasn’t looking forward to the table manners of an entire tribe of Togruta.
Master Pedara’s fears turned out to be true for the most part, the meal was extremely Togruta. He’d never had as much meat before in his life. Out of courtesy it was cooked and served with spices, a luxury and unusual occurrence for a carnivorous species. But the food itself wasn’t his main objection, it was the table manners.
Corellians weren’t exactly refined, but they ate with silverware and they cut their food into manageable bites. In contrast, the Togruta seemed to eat with their bare hands and bite off chunks. With canine teeth like that though it was understandable. Still though, it wasn’t appetizing to watch them eat. But perversely at the same time not eating would be an insult. So Master Pedara found himself in the familiar position of eating unusual food when he didn’t want to, finding the right balance between not eating anything and eating more than he could. Years of diplomacy had taught him that skill.
In sharp contrast, Sherasti was soaking it all in like a sponge. It was like watching a Selkath in water or a Gammorean in mud. If Pedara hadn’t known better, he’d have thought she was born and raised on Shili instead of born on Abregado-rae and raised on the streets. Of course that upbringing was totally behind her now, she was a Jedi through and through. But something in her blood, in her very essence was calling to her.
And she was answering. She had her new headdress now and was wearing it proudly. It was a work of art, but a subtle one. Crafted with finesse, it relied more on the beauty of the akul teeth themselves than on any other precious material. A simple braided leather band held it in place, and the teeth stood up along the periphery of her forehead. Their lines were sharp, clean, and distinct from up close. But from a distance they became a sort of gray-colored tiara, resting on the base of the montrals as if held there by magic.
But the pride with which she wore it was not the sort of false pride that led to the dark side, but rather a healthy respect for her culture. If asked by a master, she’d have relinquished it immediately. It was simply a matter of discovering herself. And Pedara supported that unconditionally.
He rose and excused himself from the festivities, stepping away from the bonfire and the main circle around it. The flickering light of the fire cast dancing shadows onto the undergrowth around them. Through a gap in the trees’ canopies he could see the night sky and the twinkling stars. Shili was a strange place to behold in the day, a mass of unusually shaped plants in unusual colors mixed with a huge diversity of terrain. And at night it became even more… magical. If magical was the right term. The angles seemed to change, and the oranges, reds, whites, and blues of the day seemed to blend together into an almost grayscale sketch with a silvery-blue light illuminating each detail.
Sherasti appeared at Pedara’s side unbidden. She had a knack for detecting her master’s moods, and she had great loyalty. It was a Togruta trait, one she had applied to the Jedi Order in general and Master Pedara in particular.
“Is something wrong Master?” She asked, concern evident in her voice.
“Oh, nothing much. You know how I feel about your, um, eating habits.” Pedara confessed. “I know its not the most tolerant view to hold, but I can’t really help it. Sorry.” He apologized.
Sherasti grimaced a little, accidentally revealing her fangs with the human facial expression. “Sorry,” she apologized right back in her lilting voice. “I don’t mean to be rude. But on the bright side, at least thimiars weren’t on the menu today.” A roguish smile appeared on her face, the one she reserved for especially happy moments. She knew her master hated it when she ate the small rodents in front of him.
Pedara couldn’t help but laugh. “You know, the first time I saw you eat one I thought you were poisonous! Really though, you happen to be the first Togruta I’ve ever known personally. From your bright colors and the way that little rodent twitched I was convinced you were venomous, I really was.”
Both of them laughed at the thought. It seemed absurd, but it was also surprisingly common. Certainly the Togruta didn’t dispel the misconception. In a way it was amusing for Sherasti. To those who knew her she was the most approachable and unintimidating person imaginable. But to the uninitiated she was a tall, poisonous, carnivore capable of blending into the shadows and striking silently.
Perhaps some of it was true. She was deadly, but graceful and subtle as well. A rose, with thorns. But still a flower. And this flower had control over her sharp parts. Her predatory instincts extended no further than various small rodents.
“Really though Master, I am sorry you aren’t more at home here. It feels so natural for me, but for you it must be terribly… well, primitive. Simplistic. I promise not to stay much longer.”
Pedara held up a staying hand. “No, I won’t be selfish in that way. We’ll leave when the mission is done and only for that reason. I won’t cut short this experience for you simply because I’m not comfortable with it. If I control you that way you’ll never learn or find your place as a Jedi Knight. So get back over there to your People and enjoy yourself a while longer. If we do leave tomorrow it will be because our job is done.”
“Yes Master Pedara,” Sherasti replied dutifully as she turned and headed back to the celebration. Just before she reentered the firelight she looked over her shoulder and smiled. It was another way of expressing her thanks.
Pedara smiled back and waved her on. Watching Sherasti Rin grow from a little girl to a woman had been staggering. She had reached her full height, her montrals had crested, and her skin had darkened and started to take on a rust color instead of the youthful orange one. Though the Corellian Jedi’s standards of growth were more along human lines, he was still amazed by how Sherasti had changed. She was a daughter to him really, and also a friend. Increasingly as the end of her apprenticeship loomed, Hult Pedara felt just how lucky he was to have had her as his Padawan. She hadn’t been his first, or even his second, but she had been his third. All the errors he’d made at first had been reduced or eliminated, only to have others rear their heads like a mythical hydra. But Sherasti had stayed strong and determined while ever-increasing her confidence and trust in the Jedi Code. She’d succeeded in developing true wisdom well before he ever had. He couldn’t tell whether it was some innate part of the Jedi, or whether it had something to do with her species. But either way, he’d never known a Jedi like his apprentice.
He had to admit, it was incredibly hard to see darkness in her. If not for the fact that he knew better he’d have said there was no dark seed in her. But every servant of the light had the terrible potential to turn. Sherasti was simply skilled and sagacious enough to successfully lock away that seed and deny it what it needed to grow. Her devotion to the Jedi Code, and to her own personal code, was absolute. She possessed mercy, compassion, and increasing wisdom.
Still, the rose had her thorns. Sometimes she didn’t understand or empathize as she should. Financial matters befuddled her. Opinions could often wound her. But other thorns were beneficial, her swordsmanship for instance. Precise, elegant, and rapid. She took to the duel like a dancer to the stage or an artist to the canvas despite her own inherent disadvantage. Years ago on Pantolomin he’d almost lost her. For days he’d been on edge, frightened at the prospect even. A Jedi was supposed to be able to let go, but it was a challenge. Thankfully one he never had to face; though battered and seriously wounded, Sherasti had survived. Her left arm had been mangled beyond the abilities of medicine to fully repair. It had been patched and mended well enough, and the Togruta could use it for most day-to-day activities. But it effectively stopped her from using most of the lightsaber forms that emphasized power.
But even that didn’t daunt the Rose, instead her thorns became sharper and her petals more beautiful than before. She had an effortless Makashi blade work he’d never seen in a Jedi Consular before. Though she had yet to become a Knight, already Pedara was confident that would be her path. She had such patience, such skill in telepathy, and such wisdom that seeing her in any other specialization was laughable. She didn’t enjoy the battle in the way a Guardian would. She respected their practice sparring, and took to it naturally, but it wasn’t her forte. Neither was she a ‘ferret’ like the Sentinels, sniffing out trouble and fixing problems. She lacked the wide array of skills, and like Pedara was dependent on others to help carry out the mission. She could only be a Consular. It was a perfect fit for her.
With one last look at the heavens, Master Hult Pedara turned back to the gathering. He’d tolerate more red meat and bad table manners, for Sherasti. She deserved his support, and she deserved the honor today. She’d won a victory, for the tribe and above all for herself. Yes, she had earned it.