Shadows of the Republic: Spoils of War

[Ilias]

He remembered it well. For Ilias, forgetting any single thing was never an option he had. Every sound, sight, taste, touch and smell he encountered was etched into his memory. He remembered the tone of voice, the speed of words and look on Fionn's face when he found out that his friend had been taken as a padawan by Remon Jore... though the man was seven years his senior, the point was that Ilias had always attained things early - the exception being his appointment as a master. It was something different altogether to see Fionn's face and hear his words at the assembly. It wasn't hard for him to put two and two together, but...

"Is this about Fionn, Master Jore?" He asked the question, almost cautiously. He knew Fionn was a good Jedi, but in these times, he had to wonder the sanity of the council in putting out a retrieval. But at the same time, the bond of friendship was an especially strong calling for the redheaded man. "What has the council told you?"

Nytrau was incredibly perceptive. Unknowingly, most of the time, he could answer his own questions of other people. Still, he could not have known what the council said if he was not there. He could not have known that Master Jore had even seen the council. Nor had he pulled it from anyone's psyche. That tended to require permission and the majority of things going through a person's mind were things best left alone.

[Remon Jore]

If he had been himself, he would have hesitated and considered this young knight's astute perception before responding to him, but as it was, the old Jedi felt a weariness settle on him that had little to do with actual lack of sleep. Not that that mattered to a Jedi, truly. No, it was as if his mind refused to think of the entire matter, to consider one more aspect of it.

Rubbing his temple as if subconsciously trying to awaken it from its odd paralysis, he let his other hand fall from his hold on the support beam and seek refuge across his belly.

Perhaps it would be good to take young Nytrau along. Perhaps he - a friend of Fionn's, from what it seemed - might find some access to the rogue Jedi if any of his own attempts failed...

Yes... that might actually work...

Stroking his index finger along the ridge of his eyebrow as if this could smooth out his worries, he finally looked up at the young man.

"That I'm to gather a small team to return him to the temple. The council feels that there is still hope to redeem this situation. He is impulsive, but with the right kind of approach, he might not be lost to us."

He truly hoped they were correct in thinking so.

"It is fitting that we have met as we did, here, knight Nytrau. I seem to recall you and he were friends. I would do well to have a friend of his on my team."

He didn't say it aloud, his worry: that his own words would hold no sway over his former padawan who had kept so much of himself from him.

[Ilias]

"I would be..." He paused, thinking further on it. "...I would not be speaking truth to deny that I wished to take a part in this, as after all, you have said that it would do well to have a friend of the subject 'along for the ride', as it were."

He smiled, about as much as was appropriate, given the circumstances and glanced back down the corridor from whence he had come. He, too, wondered if he might be able to talk any sense into Fionn. There had been no-one to whom he had confided his own dalliances and it had been easy to keep that way, as he had not gone so far as to make such a commitment to the woman as his friend had done with Berit Selkie. It perhaps, just was not the same.

"I would be glad to be of assistance, Master Jore. There is one matter, however." He turned his head back to the master, speaking plainly. "It would be rather remiss of me to leave my own student behind. Istina Ch'fer - I hope it would not be too much of a problem to bring her along, as well?"

It had been less than a week since Istina had been assigned to him, but he was now responsible for her growth as a Jedi and also, to be sure of her continued walk on that path. She was still in much danger of straying far from it, having lost her first master as Fionn seemed to have lost his wife.

[Remon Jore]

The moment he heard the younger man agree to his proposition, he knew with absolute certainty it had been the right thing to do. A Force premonition, apparently. Something inside him yielded to the moment, snapped his previously so morose mood aside. It would all work out.

"Yes, yes," he reponded gamely to Ilias' question about the padawan the young knight had apparently been assigned to. Another female - he'd never heard of a Istina Ch'fer but they could always leave her in Taman's care; the older girl was familiar with the task of looking after Jedi children after her success with the tournament, and could possibly benefit from having another padawan around. "She won't be alone."

Having decided not to tell the girl yet that she was to be his padawan, he had to follow up on his decision by keeping her role a secret. It would not be too difficult, seeing that she was a fine historian by all accounts.

"Be at platform C65 at 0730 hours and we will have some time to discuss plans before leaving."

[Ilias]

"Very well. My padawan and I shall see you then, Master Jedi."

With a bow of the head and a turn of the heel, Ilias Nytrau was off to inform his student of the impending trip. No-one appreciated short notice, but most everything was such as of late. The stance of action was heavily taken upon by the Council and the Jedi, widespread. Even he, a student and master of the revered, rare, protected caste of healers, was being swept up in the maelstrom.

The evening meal could wait. It would not be the first time in his few decades of life, nor, he was certain, would it be the last.

-----

Though he had left her at her quarters, she was not there. And the only other place it was likely that she would be found was a place he had rarely ventured to. Rather, its inhabitants frequently came to him, instead of the other way around. Younglings seemed to be prone to malady and injury, whether it be by cause of fast-growing limbs that they could not grow into fast enough, lack of attentiveness on their part or the part of a cohort, or, well, fate. The thought that, simply, some things just happened and could not be controlled. Hindsight was twenty-twenty. Some of these very lessons had Nytrau been attempting to instill in his student.

Most of the younglings were already settling - some of the youngest had already turned in for the night. Like angelic figures they laid in slumber and as the Knight entered within those chambers, he took care to step lightly and soundlessly - aided by the Force, if need be. It was in one of the dimly lit offshoot rooms that he found Istina, watching over one child who, he presumed, had been fussy to get to slumber. Nytrau stood silently in the doorway, watching his student with fixated interest. The inherent mothering instinct of the female of so many races remained alive and well in humanity. He, as a man and a Jedi since time nearly immemorial (his own memory) did not feel this instinct, yet tried to understand it.

He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms and saying nothing of his presence. Only his calm breathing permeated the silence, much as every youngling and Istina, herself.

[Istina Chriferre]

Master Ilias had left her alone in her quarters for the day. It hadn’t take long before she’d left, pushed by some impulse to leave the unfamiliar environment. The quarters she’d once shared with Master Feskin were bare now, waiting for a time when they would once more house a Master with their padawan.

She’d wandered for a bit, feeling lost, thought not alone. Many had nodded to her as she made her way through the halls and rooms of the Temple, meandering. She’d nodded back, feeling uncomfortable under their eyes without the presence of her master, either Feskin or Nytrau. Never before had she felt so... incompetent.

It was almost a surprise that she’d found her way to the area of the Temple set aside for the younglings. She’d been spending a lot of time there, helping the children and the Healers in charge of them with whatever tasks needed doing. She’d been spending some time in the Healing Ward as well, tending to the injuries of those Jedi brought back from Geonosis. It was mostly due to them that she’d learned to control herself and hide her still aching heart, and smooth her emotions so that they would not grate on the patients, though completely hiding herself was not possible yet. It was too soon. But the grief was slowly abating, she could tell, largely thanks to the younglings.

“Ah, Istina,” said one creche-mother, walking through with a data-pad in her hand. “I haven’t seen you recently. I’d thought you might have decided that the youngsters were too much for you.”

Istina smiled, though it was shadowed. The air of normalcy that they had taken with her was something she enjoyed very much. She could pretend that she was merely waiting for Master Feskin to return from a solo mission, or she could simply forget that she had a master.

“No,” she answered, walking in stride with the healer. “I’ve been a bit busy, and never found the time.”

“Well, come along, we’re putting the young ones to sleep now. They seem to like you very much.”

Istina’s smile became less shadowed. “I like them very much as well.”

The youngling minder smiled and laughed a bit. “There is something soothing about a child, isn’t there?”

When she entered, some of the younglings had gotten up out of their beds immediately with big smiles. Istina smiled in return, and visited each of them, gently soothing them back into their beds and to sleep. The last one, a young boy by the name of Ash, had taken longer to sleep; he was having dreams that were disturbing his sleep. The minders were beginning to think that maybe the dreams were based in the Force, but nothing had been done yet with so little information.

The lights dimmed and the minders left, allowing Istina time to watch Ash and sooth his sleep with small touches of the Force. In this, she was proving adept, sending warm and soft emotions to the boy as he slept to help him get into dreamless sleep more easily. She’d felt master Ilias before she’d known he was there.

Turning to face him, she raised a finger to her lips in a silencing gesture, before realizing who she was gesturing to; she blushed a bit, and lowered her hand, well aware that Master Nytrau would know far more about this sort of thing than she. She made her way through the sleeping children as quietly as she could, and soon was heading out the door. Master Nytrau followed her, and the door slid shut behind them.

“Yes, Master Nytrau?” she asked quietly, sending him a curious look, bereft of the usual despondency which had characterized her expressions recently.

[Ilias]

"I will be going away to..." He paused, hushing his voice down a few points. "...I will be going away on a mission with Master Remon Jore. You will be coming with me, as you are my student."

He glanced at the closed door, hearing nothing but the slumbering sounds of the younglings.

"Master Jore has requested that we arrive at platform C65 at 0730hrs." He smiled feebly. "I am aware this is short notice, but that is the way of everything these days."

Ilias searched the face of the girl. "You have kept a bag packed, as I have required, for such a purpose?"

[Istina Chriferre]

Suddenly, reality crashed onto her like the reinstitution of the gravity of a million planets. Master Nytrau was her master, not Master Feskin. However, the residual peace she had gleaned from the children was enough to allow her to keep her composure quite well.

“I have, Master,” she replied, nodding quickly and keeping her voice on the same level as the elder Jedi’s. She held no ill will toward Master Ilias for taking Master Feskin’s place, she felt. And perhaps it might do her some good to leave the Temple for a while; the memories were still very grief-filled and not yet nostalgic in tone.

Master Nytrau’s expression didn’t much change at her reply, though there was an undercurrent of slight approval. She felt gratified that she could still perform something of her duties as his Padawan, and hoped that this signified a movement away from the pain that still dogged her.

“May I ask where we are going?”

[Ilias]

He cocked an eyebrow, just one, at her question. The other brow joined it at the realization that she had, indeed applied title to him. It felt strange, as after all, he had been mostly avoiding outright calling her his student in her presence, given the somewhat delicate reason of their pairing. He showed slim surprise at her question, given that a straight answer might make her resolve fall apart.

"We go..." He paused, trying to find the best way that he might form his words. "...where it is that Master Jore is to take us. I am sorry to say that he did not impart to me exactly where it is we are to go." Though, it was obvious. Too obvious, but that was the truth. Remon Jore said nothing of the destination and that had been because the saying of it was not necessary.

"But, I will tell you that in a way, it is for the sake of loyalty, of friendship, of a man's redemption, that I go."

A small smile cracked onto his lips.

"Attachments outside the bond of master and apprentice and our service to the Force are frowned upon. But they happen anyway. No man is infallible, Istina. For all that we are, we have weaknesses that can be exploited. It does us a favour to know what those weaknesses are, so that we might guard against their causing of our downfall. Keep this in mind."

He glanced away, over his shoulder. His stomach rumbled lowly. He grimaced, giving his young student a sort of pleading look.

"I must take in my evening meal. I will leave you to your activities and see you at platform C65 in the morning."

[Istina Chriferre]

The morning dawned clear and bright, and Istina was walking along to the platform a full half of an hour earlier than the scheduled departure. She normally wasn’t so motivated; but she’d awakened early, and she felt that it would be good to get there earlier than normal.

“Good morning, Is-tina,” a familiar voice called. She turned.

“Tell!” she said warmly. “It is good to see you.”

“It glad-dens me to see you as well.” She could feel what he had left unsaid, and was grateful for it. The Gossam bowed. Istina smiled even more widely, and embraced him. He stiffened, but soon pat her back in fondness. “You are a-bout earlier than was normal for you before.”

The Gossam’s formal and unique way of thinking and speaking always amused her.

“I have a mission with Master Ilias this morning, and I was headed to the platform to prepare,” she said. Tell nodded.

“Where are you going?” he asked. Istina shrugged, feeling a sense of unease sitting in her stomach. She felt that Tell felt unease about it as well, though his reptilian features hid his feelings well.

“I don’t know. Master Ilias was a bit skittish about that. But how are you? I haven’t seen you since before your little adventure.”

Tell nodded, a gesture that could be interpreted as a ‘shrug’ as well as other ways.

“I have been well. This is fortuitous, as I would like to ask your aid when you return concerning that.”

They were nearing the platform. Tell noticed this at the same time she did.

“I would love to help you, Tell,” Istina said, controlling her curiosity about what Tell would need help with. There wasn't time for a full conversation. “Immediately when I return I’ll contact you about it, all right?”

Tell nodded, and Istina felt safe in interpreting the gesture as acceptance.

“Go. And may the Force be with you, Is-tina,” Tell said, bowing slightly. Istina decided to be nice and simply bowed in return.

“And with you,” she responded. Tell smiled and turned to the interior of the Temple. She turned back to the entrance to the platform and the waiting ship to take her on her first mission without Master Feskin.

[Taman Danar]

It was a quarter to six when the door to her room irised shut behind Taman. The corridor in front of her was still empty, its illumination dimmed. Life in the corps had some advantages - not having to get up before 0630 was one of them. But within an hour the corridor would be buzzing with young people leaving to their tasks - and today she wasn't going to be one of them.

Dressed in a standard-issue brown jumpsuit and a not-so standard brown nerf-hide jacket that was her single unique possession, her bag of spares and tools slung across her left shoulder, the ExplorCorps girl remained standing in that same spot for a long, long moment. Alternately she looked left, then right, then back left up the corridor, her face set in a grimace that fully betrayed her frustration of earlier, but which also held something else: indecision.

She'd been at battle with herself these past hours. Sleepless, they had been spent trying to second-guess the nature of this mission, but increasingly also considering an entirely different matter. That she stood here now, more than two hours before the scheduled departure, had only been one step in the agonizing process of deciding what to do next. Here, on the other side of the door, fully dressed and equipped with all her tools, her certainty had left her again, the anxiety mounting instead. To the left lay the way up to the hangars, to the right was the path up to the library.

It wasn't that she didn't plan on being there, at the hangar, at 0800. Despite the rebeliousness she'd discovered in herself lately, there was not the shadow of a doubt that she would ever disobey a Jedi. She'd be there, in time. But there were two hours to kill before then - and she hadn't been able to simply sit them out in her room anymore, no matter how she'd decide to spend them.

It was all a matter of trusting the Jedi, really. Or not trusting them.

Not trusting them to think of something as unimportant as notifying her supervisor of her absence - the summons had come late in the day, her importance on this mission was low. Chances were high that Madame Nu would wait for her in vain this morning. And to Taman, who had felt a special bond between the elderly librarian and herself ever since the day they'd heard of Geonosis, it was important that Madame NU not think of her badly. Really, really important.

But... how far could she trust Madame Nu? Would she see the... emotions.. she was having as a weakness? If they had told her about her absence, would the librarian reprimand her for showing so much attachment to a person that she thought she needed to say goodbye to her first before going off on a simple mission? The moment of shared grief had been the only time she'd seen the otherwise so stern taskmaster show a softer side, and it terrified her now to think that Madame Nu might disapprove of her if she expected the same again.

But after another moment's consideration, she closed her eyes, took one long, deep breath - then stormed off along the corridor, to the library.

-------------------------

Jocasta Nu was famous for her tireless work in the library. She almost never seemed to be absent from it, and it was rumoured amongst the youngsters that she either didn't need sleep or had a bed stashed away somewhere in a hidden corner. There had been one particular boy who'd had a theory that the Jedi had learnt to turn herself into one of those oldfashioned books of hers and spent a few hours every night relaxing on a shelf - it had been pretty stupid, as far as theories went; no wonder he'd ended up in the AgriCorps.

Madame Nu was indeed sitting on her chair in her office, even at this early hour. Her courage hadn't left her, but Taman stopped at the door, looking in carefully. The old Jedi's head was leaned back against the headrest, her hands folded neatly in her lap - the eyes were open yet she had that faraway look in them that told Taman Madame Nu was in some kind of trance state. A soft glow seemed to be emanating from her; the look on her face so peaceful that it took years off her true age, inspite of the wisps of grey hair and the wrinkled skin. It would not be right to disturb her now --- the foolishness of her intention came over Taman, and she shrank back from the door. But no sooner had she turned her back on the office, that a voice called after her.

"What is it, Taman?" came the old Jedi's voice, sounding very much alert.

The young girl turned again, and slowly took a few steps into the office. Her heart hammering in her chest, she felt every bit as nervous now as she'd feared she might be. Would this notion of hers be judged foolish now - not worthy of someone whom Madame Nu had said might be reconsidered for advanced training? There was a small tremor in her voice when she replied, "Good morning, Madame Nu."

The elderly Jedi smiled at her. "A very good morning, child, is it not?"

Taman decided to simply come out with it, sine Jocasta Nu seemed in good spirits. "I came to say goodbye to you... i-in case th-they hadn't l-let you know I-I am l-leaving this m-morning." She blushed with annoyance - where had that stutter come from all of a sudden?!?

But Jocasta Nu continued smiling, and folded her hands on the table now. "Of course I know, child. And I have been expecting you ever since I heard the news from the council." The smile faded a little as she watched the girl's face. "I must confess, I had expected you to be much more excited than this, however."

Excited? Why? Taman was a little confused. It was a mission - with a Jedi Master, yes, but still a mission. She knew she was good at what she'd been trained to do - one of the best - and she'd been on several such missions before. What's so special about this one that she expected me to be excited about it? She didn't even know what it was about, really. Not knowing how to respond to this, she simply looked at the Jedi quizzically.

The frown on the librarian's face grew for a second, then Taman thought she could detect some kind of sorrow creeping into her eyes.

"Are you disappointed, child? I feared you might be, perhaps expecting someone else." The librarian was watching her for some kind of reaction now.

But Taman's puzzlement grew. She found herself echoing the last words, "... someone else?"

Jocasta Nu cast her own eyes down, stared at her folded hands. "I had feared you might have expected me instead... but you must know that I cannot provide you with the training you need out there. I am too old - and you already know all that I could teach you."

"W-what?" What in space was Madame Nu saying?

The librarian looked up at her, a hint of impatience on her thin lips. "Taman, I haven't had a padawan learner in quite some time - and even though I truly considered it - Remon Jore is a much better master to prepare you on your way to knighthood than I could be. You must believe that."

Taman had only really understood one word in all of this. "Kn-knighthood?" she whispered.

Madame Nu looked at her oddly. "Master Jore can teach you much more than I ever could about the galaxy out there - especially with this war upon us now. I am only fit to care for this library - too old and fixed in my ways to deal with the war. Follow him, obey him as you have me, and you will do well, child. You will do well."

Realisation dawned upon her. Master Jore her master??!? Why had he not said...?!? Had she misunderstood something??

She'd not expected to be chosen anymore. Even when Madame Nu had told her it might happen after all had she not truly expected it. And now it had happened ... and the man who was supposed to have chosen her... had not told her? Why?!?

The shock of all this was too much to digest at once. Madame Nu looked at her with open concern now. "Taman? What is it?" she was asking, but the young girl had no answer to give to her. She needed to be alone now, to grapple with this news.... choking out a hasty "Not disappointed--- just tired--- wanted to say goodbye---", she bowed in front of the librarian, then ran off as fast as her legs could take her, fearing all the while that the Jedi would somehow pull her back and make her explain.

But Jocasta Nu just stared after her, worriedly, then shook her head. Some young people just needed more time... which Taman Danar did not have, but she was old enough to adapt.

-----------------

With a grim face, Taman entered the hangar a few minutes after half past seven, to find herself in the company of a young girl she didn't know. But the braid in her hair and her clothing marked her as a padawan - in such clear contrast to herself - so Taman walked past her to the other side of the platform, nodding at her silently as she passed.

Since Master Jore had not bothered to inform her that she was to be his padawan, she wasn't going to behave like one.