The Studentless Teacher

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

Like every other morning of her life, Sihara had woken up, dressed, prepared for the day, and was now smoothly flowing in the direction of the saber training rooms. She had been working, recently, with a chiss named Theron on finding a particularly puzzling dark jedi and his...Aunna. Truth be told, the knight didn't know how to title the former major when it came to her ties to the dark jedi, Vex Praetor. Most things seemed to point to the two caring for each other, perhaps they were lovers? It was difficult to imagine, however, that a woman such as the former major, who was so connected to the light, would fall in love with a man so connected to the darkness. This was the togruta's current line of musing as she slipped silently along the swiftly filling halls of the temple.

The rust colored woman didn't bother to pay particular attention to where she walked as she did. Her memory, montral, and the force assured that she wouldn't lose her way or run into anyone or anything, her (now subconscious) act of constantly sending out slim tendrils of the force to sense around her...to act as 'feelers'...allowing her to move deftly around and through the other jedi milling about the halls on their way to their various duties or choice of recreation. This had become habit for the young woman as of late, due mainly to herself and Theron's pursuit of the dark jedi in question and her time searching out the force negating ysalamiri. Those unobtrusive 'feelers' allowed her to sense without being sensed until she was right atop her quarry while in the field.

Before she had realized it, Sihara found herself at the cluster of training rooms in the heart of the temple. Expanding her presence outward, Sihara re-oriented herself. That was one problem with allowing her senses to do the walking. If she felt without seeing, then saw without feeling...she was completely disoriented. As it was now, however, she slowly matched her visual surroundings with the more subtle feelings the force offered to her. Ah yes, the youngling class rooms and their occupants (teachers included) were just behind her to the left, the meditation rooms directly ahead (silent as always), the cluster of rooms used to hone various skills were directly to her right (it seemed there was a master in there working on some force push skill or other judging by the constant ebb and tide of the force coming from that direction), the Art of Movement course was directly to her left (full as usual), and the saber training rooms just ahead and to both sides.

Completely comfortable with her surroundings once more, Sihara headed to one of the four large saber rooms, dark brown robes swirling around her feet with the gentle whisper of practiced, graceful, movements. There were only three others in the room with her at the moment, a master and his padawan along with another, separate, padawan...or was he a youngling? Judging by his age and the length and color of his braid and wrap he was still a youngling. Perhaps his class had finished and so he had opted to practice? Shaking her head slightly, she moved to a corner of the room and withdrew her saber hilt, adjusting the power level to one more suited for movement practices...one that wouldn't maim or kill when brought against another.

[Makiro]

Breathing out, Makiro Variyas gripped his training sabre at the very top of the hilt, his hand coming dangerously close to the stinging light of its blade. His other hand he placed on the rounded pommel, enabling the lever like action needed for Form I, Shii-Cho.

Imagining a lightsabre-wielding opponent, he swung his arms upwards until the humming blade was barely an inch above his shoulder. Pleased that he had mastered the basic principles of the parry, he repeated this movement a few times. Then, deactivating his sabre, he went over to a set of shelves, set deeply into the glossy walls. Removing a spherical training drone, he carried it back to his spot on the floor and activated it.

The first blaster bolt he managed to deflect: his blue blade absorbing the energy from the glowing slug. Good. The second, too, was no problem as he changed his stance momentarily to mirror the new position of the floating orb. The third however, and the fourth, slammed into his exposed flesh as he failed to bring his sabre into the correct position. Breathing out, he attempted to block out the stinging pain and set his feet firmly apart.

He wasn’t entirely surprised that he had failed to deflect these last bolts: his achievment during class had been equally as poor. After class, the rest of the younglings from his clan – the Soaring Hawkbats – had disbanded and wandered off to more entertaining pursuits within the Temple. Makiro however, irked as he was by his unusual failure to grasp a concept, had stayed in the training rooms to practice. He was not doing well.

Catching him by surprise, two more burning bolts collided with his arm and neck, the pain dragging him out of his reverie. A third slammed into his cheek as he attempted to regain his positioning, and a fourth whizzed past his left ear. The next bolt he managed to deflect, barely, but the following three all made contact. Angry, he deactivated his lightsabre, grabbed the drone out of the air and deactivated that, too. He turned, ready to take the offending globe back to its marbled recess.

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

Moving through the graceful motions of Makashi slowly and deliberately, Sihara's sensitive montral notified her of the movements of the youngling closest to her, his motions swift and jagged, unpracticed. Ignoring the information, she continued to move calmly through the, now mastered, duelers form. Another prickle to her senses, this time through the force, brought Sihara's attention around...it was the feeling of pain, physical, minor, but pain none the less. Pausing at the end of her motion, she held the position as she searched for the cause and recipient of the pain. Again it was the youngling.

He seemed to be practicing his blocking with one of the training globes, but his attention was unfocused both physically and through the force. Furrowing her brow, she watched him brought back to reality by two bolts, the caught by a third as he tried to regain his composure. The fourth flew by him, toward her. Instantly shifting to the slightly less comfortable Soresu, she blocked the bolt easily, keeping it from stinging her midsection. Feeling the boy's anger and frustration rising, she decided to intercede. He had managed to deflect one bolt by the time she started moving, deactivating her purple saber along the way, but the next three bolts hit him as well and by the time she arrived, he'd already deactivated both saber and bot.

As he turned to return the droid to its former resting place, Sihara settled a hand on his shoulder lightly. She had allowed a soothing and calming presence to proceed her arrival so as not to startle him, and so she hadn't thought twice about allowing her hand to come to rest there and keep him from leaving. Drawing on the force, she also helped ease the stinging he felt from the bolts, allowing a cooling sensation to pass from her into him, her mind focusing on the areas she'd seen and felt him be hit.

Don't be disheartened by a little failure like this, youngling. All you need is a bit more practice and some focus. Would you like help? I think I might be able to fix some of the problems you're having at the moment.

She said simply. The tone wasn't unkind, merely said as if she were stating the weather outside that day, though her voice held an undertone of kindness to it. She'd been much the same way when she'd been a youngling, not excelling in the saber but rather sense, telekinetic and healing. Only with careful and strict training from Orion had she managed to grasp the subtleties of the Shii Cho form, and later Makashi and the others.

[Makiro]

Makiro didn't flinch as the unfamiliar Togruta Jedi placed her hand upon his shoulder. Neither did he flinch as she revealed that she had been watching his training - altough his stomach did twist with embarassment. Wanting nothing more than to slink away to his clan's dormitory - knowing that despite her kindly voice, the Togruta was probably a little less than impressed by his unjedi-like display of frustration - he forced himself to remain calm and smiled graciously.

As a jedi, he knew it would be unwise to decline an offer of assistance, and so he quelled his burning embarassment and nodded tersely.

"Thank you, Master, I should like that very much."

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

Sihara chuckled slightly as his words and emotions hit her. Embarrassed was he? She didn't understand why...it was common for younglings to have troubles with such things! That was the whole point...they were still young, still learning, it was the appropriate time to make mistakes. Better now than later at more critical times. A familiar pain stabbed at her heart, but she shielded him from it, dampening it as if putting a cover over a light. He was so formal too! Well, she couldn't blame him for that, they didn't exactly know each others names now did they?

I no longer hold the title master, don't allow the robes to fool you, I'm simply a knight. My name is Sihara by the way.

She stated, removing her hand from his shoulder and folding her arms across her chest lightly, saber hilt still held in one hand as she smiled down at him.

Also, don't be embarrassed. I was much the same way...I had quite a bit of difficulty learning to use the saber properly. Besides, this is the best time to make your mistakes, that way you don't make them later.

Thinking for a moment, she wondered where to start with him. Perhaps the training sphere wasn't the best place to start, it would only build frustration and that was the last thing needed. If anything, the boy needed to calm his mind a bit and learn to focus on his tasks. Deciding on her course of action swiftly, she nodded.

Go return the training sphere please then return. We'll start with the stances first to help rebuild some of your confidence and focus.

She instructed simply, motioning to the shelf he had acquired the droid from.

[Makiro]

Makiro smiled and apologised for his mistake as he listened to the Togruta's kind words. Despite his embarassment, he found that he rather liked the red-skinned woman, with her smiling, honey eyes and graceful lekku. Her kindly smile reminded him of a mother's - or at least how he imagined a mother's smile should look.

Makiro smiled even wider - albeit with a hint of further embarassment - when the Togruta, Sihara, told him not to be embarassed. He inclined his head respectfully.

"Thank you, Master Sihara, that is wise advice."

He was careful to use "Master" as a term of respect, rather than an actual title: unwilling to repeat his previous mistake.

Doing as he had been instructed, he returned the spherical drone to its alcove and stood before the older Jedi, waiting for further instruction.

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

Nodding her approval to the boy as he spoke, she couldn't help but feel another sharp pang in her heart. He was so much like Kain had been when he was first a youngling. Her eyes clouded for a moment at the memory, but she swiftly pushed the thoughts away again as he returned and waited before her patiently. Smiling, though it was only half heartedly this time around, she nodded.

Good, draw your saber and take up the first stance of Shii Cho.

She instructed, her own deep violet blade thrumming to life as she too took up the stance behind him so she could watch his form more easily and correct any mistakes she might find. Flashes of her own tutelage under Orion came to her mind and she smiled a bit more honestly. The man had done much the same to her when she was this boy's age. Speaking of the boy...he'd not introduced himself.

What ARE the masters teaching you younglings these days?

She said, half teasing, half serious.

Have they not covered manners yet? What is your name youngling?

Her voice was full of withheld laughter at her half serious joking. Only after she received his name did she return to a slightly more serious tone.

Alright, focus. Your thoughts are scattered right now, trying to touch everything around. During practice you should be single minded in your endeavor to learn the form. Your body should come to know them as second nature so that later you won't have to think about what you are doing, but simply do so.

By going through the stances of a form, you allow yourself to remember the specific feeling of the proper position of your body, and help it to feel more natural so the actual motions will flow more smoothly. Also, it is a good way to build mental and physical stamina because, unlike simply using a training bot, one must think before they act, and think constantly...not to mention holding a position in the form can, at times and with certain forms, be tiring to muscles that may or may not be used often outside of a fight.

She was using her calm tone to act as an anchor for the boy, to help ground him in his task and focus on what he was doing with the added benefit of some advice on the matter at hand.

[Makiro]

As soon as Sihara's blade of purple fire had burst into being, Makiro flicked the switch that activated his own, slightly less powerful weapon. Setting his feet firmly apart, Makiro did as he had been asked and assumed the most simple of all stances taught to younglings - the first of Shii Cho.

"What ARE the masters teaching you younglings these days?"

The Togruta's sudden question took Makiro by surprise, and he momentarily lost concentration. Quickly regaining his posture he set his mouth into a stern line and awaited further questioning.

"Have they not covered manners yet? What is your name youngling?"

Makiro laughed lightly, pleased that he was not about to be seriously interrogated.

"No, Master Sihara, they haven't: I believe they retain that ancient wisdom for the Knights - and even then they dispense it sparingly."

Wincing as he realised he had probably gone too far - forgetting as he had, that he was in the presence of a Jedi Knight - Makiro drew his lips together tightly before answering the question appropriately. Luckily the older Jedi did not seem too perturbed by his undue remark.

"My name is Makiro - Makiro Variyas."

Listening to the Jedi's instructions, Makiro went through the required stances with relative ease; he was after all, one of the oldest Younglings in the Temple, and had had plenty of time to practice. Glad of her sage advice, Makiro listened intently to Sihara's words, using them to focus his attention.

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

Sihara laughed at his reply, watching as he moved through the first few stances. After a moment, she walked up behind him, deftly avoiding his saber and putting a hand on his shoulder to stop him after allowing her saber to flicker out of existence.

True enough Makiro...true enough. Some of the knights I know could do with a good dose of manners...especially this chiss I know...

She replied with a slight roll of her eyes as Theron came to mind.

I've noticed you hand positioning is rather far apart, that's why I've stopped you. With such a wide grip, you run the risk of losing your saber more easily should the hilt be hit by something...or worse, losing your fingers to the blade should your hand slip.

She stated, tapping his leading hand with a finger. It was too close to the stinging blade, had it been anything more than a training saber his hand would have been damaged by the blade's heat. Holding out her own silver hilt, she allowed him to see where the black hand grips were on hers.

As you can see I've built mine to have a hand grip that only extends the width of both my hands in their natural position...even though you don't yet have your own saber, you must think in these terms....your hands should rest comfortably and near to each other...this will give you the best grip and maneuverability.

[Makiro]

Makiro adjusted his grip on his sabre, feeling the increased stability and control it already offered. He practiced a few of the stances again and marvelled at the improvement in his form.

As Sihara pointed out the adjustments she had made to her own sabre, he admired the craftsmanship with which it had been tuned to her individual needs. The young Jedi hoped that he would be able to create such a fine weapon when the time called for it.

"Master Sihara?" he asked somewhat tentatively, "How important is it that a Jedi perfects his or her own lightsabre?"

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

Sihara smiled and nodded as she watched his improvement with that small adjustment. The boy had a great amount of potential, and she wondered at the fact that he hadn't been taken by a master yet. With his question, however, she was brought back to reality. Tilting her head to the side slightly, the togruta woman thought on the question for a moment as she decided how to answer.

It is very important. For a jedi, his or her lightsaber should be like an extension of their body or they may not survive. Nothing made by mortal hands can be perfect, mind you, but one should strive to make their weapon to the best of their ability, and improve upon it often and as the need arises. For many jedi...a lightsaber is simply a weapon...for myself, it is a part of me. As I train myself to become better and more in tune with the force, so I must also recreate my weapon.

She knelt then, coming eye to eye with the boy, her golden green eyes gazing intently into his deep brown.

Remember...a lightsaber is not just a tool, it can also be a lifeline. Like all tools, you should respect it and treat it well, take care of it...that way, if and when the time comes it will take care of you. Also, like many tools, one should try to avoid needing to use it...especially since these tools can and will take lives if need be.

Sihara sighed heavily for a moment, then brought a smile to her face once more. If the boy bothered to look, however, he might notice that the smile didn't reach her eyes.

Any other questions before we continue, Makiro?

[Makiro]

Makiro listened attentively to Sihara's explanation, nodding as he took in the new information. He had always admired the high regard in which the older Jedi Knights held their lightsabres, and now he felt that he was on the path to understanding that special bond between Jedi and weapon - or rather, tool. He had never thought of the lightsabre as a tool before, choosing simply to see it as a mere weapon - albeit an almost purely defensive one - Sihara's honest explanation however, helped him to understand the more multifaceted role the sabre played in the life of a Jedi.

As the Togruta knelt before him, Makiro looked into her honeyed eyes; eyes that belied her warm, carefree smile. Carefully considering the question that was forming in his mind, he wondered whether or not it would be a suitable one to put to so distinguished an individual. Deciding that sometimes knowledge and understanding was worth a risk, he chose his words carefully, and spoke.

"If you don't mind my asking, Master Sihara: what is it that troubles you so?"

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

Sihara closed her eyes at the question and bowed her head slightly. He was more astute than she'd given him credit for...she would have to take more care next time. Sighing, she stood and clipped her saber to her belt and motioned for him to walk with her over to the few seats along one of the walls of the training room. Settling herself down for what she saw becoming a longer conversation than she had first anticipated, the togruta faced the boy calmly, settling her hands in her lap.

That....is a difficult question, Makiro. There are a great many things that trouble me, not the least of which is my current mission. What you are seeing, however, is my past. It is my past that trouble me young one....

She sighed again and gazed at him a sad sort of smile on her face.

Do you really wish to know? If you do, I will tell you, but not here.

[Makiro]

Sitting opposite Sihara, hoping desperately that he had not overstepped the mark with his rather forward question.

"That....is a difficult question, Makiro. There are a great many things that trouble me, not the least of which is my current mission. What you are seeing, however, is my past. It is my past that trouble me young one...." said the rust-skinned woman finally. As finished speaking, she sighed and a sad smile crept across her face.

“Do you really wish to know? If you do, I will tell you, but not here.”

Thinking carefully about his decision, Makiro paused momentarily; wanting so very much to know, but not wishing to seem rude. After what seemed like an intolerable age, he nodded resolutely.

“Yes, Master Sihara, I would like to know.”

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

Sighing, Sihara nodded. Yes, she'd thought the boy would say something like that. The togruta woman was none to pleased with the prospect of having to share her past with anyone else, but he had asked, and so he would know....perhaps he could learn from her misfortune. Standing once again, she folded her arms within the sleeves of her robes.

Alright Makiro. Come along then. I'll tell you when we get to the gardens...I have a feeling I'm going to need to feel the green earth after this.

The last part of her sentence was more to herself than the boy as she waited for him to stand. Only once she was certain he would follow, did she move toward the door, deftly dodging a random bolt from another of the training spheres being used in the slowly filling room. It wouldn't take long, from here, to reach the gardens.

[Makiro]

As the two Jedi - one a tall, red-skinned female; the other a short, dark-haired male - wandered purposefully through the meandering corridors of the great Temple they called home, they discussed small matters. Nothing to personal of course; lessons, fellow Jedi, last night's dubiously flavoured meal. Turning a final corner, they passed underneath a great archway and emerged into the silky sunlight of a Coruscant afternoon.

In the distance, beyond the featureless canyon's of Coruscant's Industrial District, gleaming skyscrapers brushed the pure white clouds, their summits surrounded by wispy halos. Ordered lines of repulsorlift airspeeders wove their lazy way amongst the graceful forest of ferrocrete and transparisteel as incoming starships navigated carefully towards waiting landing pads.

Taking a deep breath of fresh air, revelling in the glorious smell of flowers and grass, Makiro smiled inwardly. The sound of trickling water and rustling leaves alone broke the silence. The young Jedi turned to the Togruta and looked expectantly - try as he might to remain patient.

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

((lol, that's awesome...a dubiously flavored meal eh?...can't say I've ever hear it said that way before ^_^....ugh, crappy post, so sorry...I wanted it to be better than this, but...i keep getting called away to do other things.))

Sihara found it refreshing to speak to the boy as they wandered along the temple halls. She had forgotten how good it was to talk to a youngling or padawan, there was just something...fulfilling...about it. As the two reached the gardens, Sihara smiled slightly and led the way to one of the oldest trees there. It was her favorite place in the whole garden since it was so old. It seemed to just exude calm and memories of times gone by. Taking a seat, she motioned for Makiro to do the same, his eager expression causing her to chuckle slightly despite herself.

Alright young one...where to start....

The togruta paused for a moment then sighed.

I suppose the best place to start would be my coming to the temple. My parents were killed by mercenaries just after I was born...luckily, my mother had just handed me over to the man who would later be my master...and the mercenaries didn't deem it worth their time to kill me as well.

With that said...

About a year and a half ago I was with my padawan, Kain. We...had been sent to Tattooine. During our time there...we faced quite a few hardships...he was 16 at the time.

She sighed and gazed off across the gardens at a glistening fountain, the water sparkling in the noon time sun.

During one of our excursions, we...ran into a group of mercs...several of which were the ones who had killed my parents. They thought that I was my mother in their drunken stupor and attacked us.

Leaning back against the tree, Sihara closed her eyes for a moment before opening them again, the color of them seeming to reflect the brown of the bark and the green of the leaves.

[Makiro]

((Thanks I try my best. I have noticed one glaring error though: “Nothing to personal” – what nonsense is that?! And don’t be too hard on yourself; I for one enjoyed your post ;D))

Makiro sat opposite the Togruta, and listened as she related her sad tale; her controlled visage a mere facade, belying the melancholy ebbs and flows in the Force that even he – a mere Youngling – could detect around her.

Pausing for a moment, the older Jedi closed her eyes for a quiet moment. Makiro breathed silently, listening once more to the exquisite calm of the verdant garden. A small, delicate insect – no doubt imported from some distant tropical world – skittered through the warm air in front of his face, its tiny presence causing the slightest of ripples in the constantly flowing surface of the Force.

Behind the two Jedi, the reassuring presence of the tree, almost wise in its grandeur, soothed Makiro and prepared him for the inevitable conclusion to Sihara’s story. He thought about the things it had seen in its time at the Temple. About the events that had taken place as it creaked and swayed in this tiny, secluded corner of an almost tree-free ecumenopolis, spreading its ancient roots through the imported soil. Most of all, he thought about the millions of tiny organisms for whom the tree meant home. To them it was not a symbol of the past, but comfort for the present and provision for the future.

Glancing at Sihara, Makiro wandered whether she would conclude her story, or whether the blissful ignorance of his own interpretation would have to suffice. He did not know which he would prefer.

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

Sihara sighed and shook her head quietly.

Kain had been caught by the men and another was taking aim at him. In trying to knock the blaster out of the hands of the one aiming at my padawan, I was taken by surprise, a vibro blade cutting into and across my back. It hurt, badly, but not so much as what had happened before my eyes.

The man who I had been trying to disarm fired, and Kain...

She clamped down on her emotions, pulling them into her self, making herself vanish from the force emotionally, leaving nothing but a void where emotions had been. Sihara closed her eyes for a moment, her jaw clenching slightly as she wrestled swiftly and silently with her emotions, harnessing them, strapping them down, and locking them away to be dealt with later when she was alone again.

...Kain died then...he had been restrained by the larger man holding him, and was unable to free himself and I watched him fall to the ground. I had been careless and hadn't moved swiftly enough...he paid the price with his life. Furious, I killed and maimed the men that had attacked us without thinking...giving in to my hunters urges and the pain and anger I felt at his death. Only once it was over did I realize what I had done.

She sighed heavily and gazed unseeingly at the grass below them, the soothing green of it filling her view. A light breeze played around the two, causing their robes to flutter lightly in it and Sihara subconsciously turned her face toward it, scenting the air as a huntress would when searching for her prey. The cool wind didn't tell her much, simply that there were flowers and trees and water close by...but it helped to sooth her slightly, and she let up on her emotional bindings ever so slightly.

It is Kain's death that troubles me Makiro. His death and what I allowed myself to do that day. The fact that I hadn't been able to help him when he needed me most and so he was cut down when he still had so much life ahead of him and he had such potential....

The woman paused slightly, unsure of if she should say the next part of her thought or not.

...you remind me of him a great deal young one. You have a great amount of potential...you could be a very good jedi if trained properly.

A pained smile came to her face as she turned her face back to him. He did remind her of her former padawan, so much it hurt. She didn't trust herself around this boy...being around her could only cause him pain or worse. At first she'd toyed with the idea of taking him as a padawan, but now...after reminding herself of her past and telling him of it...she knew that wouldn't be possible. She couldn't take the chance of reliving the past, and he would never agree to it anyway.

Does that help you understand, Makiro, why I seem troubled around you? I don't trust myself with your safety youngling.

[Makiro]

Makiro could tell that the story pained Sihara - a fact indicated more by the absence of her emotions, than their presence. Subtle changes in her expression accompanied a strange detachment from the emotional turmoil of the Force indicated a level of trauma that must have been almost overwhelming for the older Jedi.

Concealing his shock at her distinctly un-jedi-like actions, Makiro listened as Sihara explained her slaying of the attackers. He lisited as she described the strength of her emotions as she saw her Padawan struck down before her. Most of all he listened as she sighed a deep sigh; a sigh that told more than words could ever hope to.

The trickling sound of water seemed to soothe the Togruta, and he felt her come a little closer to the World again; relinquishing her detachment from the Force. Makiro felt the slightest hint of emotion radiate from Sihara, a subtle mixture of pain, sorrow and regret.

"It is Kain's death that troubles me Makiro. His death and what I allowed myself to do that day. The fact that I hadn't been able to help him when he needed me most and so he was cut down when he still had so much life ahead of him and he had such potential...."

Sihara's words unsettled Makiro. To him the Jedi Knights had always been the paragon of fearlessness, the pinnacle of emotional strength and stability. Listening to the Togruta's words however, and feeling the silence of her pain and the strength of her battle against her own emotions, he knew that the Jedi were mortal. Life as a Jedi suddenly seemed a lot less safe than he had always thought.

"...you remind me of him a great deal young one." Said Sihara after a pensieve moment, "You have a great amount of potential...you could be a very good jedi if trained properly."

Her words caused a tightening in the youngling's chest. His stomach lurched, and his heart pained him, apparently no longer content to remain silent. He knew that she had meant well by her comment, but the truth was that he wasn't sure he ever would be trained properly. At twelve years and eleven months of age, it looked almost certain that Makiro would soon be sent off to some backwater planet with the Jedi Agricorps, ready to lead a life of mundane farming and manual labour.

"Does that help you understand, Makiro, why I seem troubled around you? I don't trust myself with your safety youngling."

Makiro nodded absently, barely listening to the Togruta's distant words. Focussing on a small, leafy plant some way away, he thought of all his friends from the Soaring Hawkbats; how the few that had not already been assigned masters would soon be finding one; how they would all be able to lead a life of excitement and honour, gallantly serving the Republic and all her people. He would have hated the idea had his Jedi training left room for such emotions.

"There is no death, only the Force." He said suddenly, without thinking. "It wasn't your fault that Kain died, Master Sihara. The Force ordained that it should be so, and it was so." He stopped himself before he could say anything more, silently cursing himself for being so bold. "Forgive me, Master. I speak out of turn. It's just that..."

He paused, unsure how to continue.