After finishing the article on integrated warfare and its applications on a planetary scale, I lowered the datapad and placed it on the table beside my bed. I sighed as my eyes once more saw the white, sterile monotonous walls of my room.

It had been two days since the ijaat’akaanir and even though I had only suffered a broken elbow and fractured arm, I had been placed in a solitary room in the Institute’s medical centre. While this made sense on some level – it kept me isolated from any attempted reprisals – what was nonetheless driving me crazy was that I wasn’t allowed to attend any classes. I could understand why the evening classes wouldn’t be allowed as, even with my arm fully healed, it was risky to place me in a position where I could re-injure my arm. However, I was confused as to why I wasn’t allowed to attend my daytime classes or spend time with my teammates.

Hopefully, the doctors would let me out tonight or tomorrow. The fact that I had healed so quickly had surprised the medical staff, though once I explained that I had some skill at using the Force to self-heal, they seemed to accept it. I was mildly amused at how many of the staff reacted; it was almost as if they forgot I was, in fact, a Jedi.

Which was understandable since I hadn’t exactly fought like one in the Honour-duel. Thank the Force as if I had I likely would’ve lost.

Thankfully, even if I was stuck in a medical room by myself, I still had access to the Institute’s computer network, which meant that – when not having doctors or nurses pop in to check up on me or bring me a meal – I could read files to help with my training quests.

Two of those quests – Trainee Blaster Mech and Generational Marksman – were set to finish in a few days with the mid-session break. And even with having missed just over a week of classes – so far – neither quest would be failed. I’d already passed the minimum for Trainee Blaster Mech while Generational Marksman was just a few levels short of its minimum, so even if I couldn’t return for the last few days of classes, I could reach that point by spending a handful of Skill Points (SKP).

Truthfully, I was giving serious consideration to spending more to reach the first bonus for Generational Marksman as I had over three-hundred Skill Points saved up, and while I was concerned about failing Just Don’t Get Caught and You Can’t Hurt Me – and hated myself for taking those quests – I felt I would be able to meet the bare minimum requirements for each without spending a large number of Skill Points. Still, it was perhaps better to err on the side of caution and conserve those points until then, just in case.

My remaining training quests were set until the end-of-session. While this lowered their XP rewards, I had realised that with the way my classes were set up – and how quickly those skills levelled up after the first week - there was no way I could finish them by the up-coming break. Therefore, I’d made the training quests last until the end of the session. While this lowered the XP available, it did make them achievable.

Of those quests, Generational Gunslinger and Rifleman both needed to reach Savant:1. While they were the highest training quests I had and gave the highest XP reward for completion along with Generational Marksman, they were conversely the easiest for which to gain XP. Unloading three-hundred shots for a fully charged training power-pack earned me, on average, about two levels and only took about thirty minutes of careful aiming to maximise the bonuses applied to the XP.

The other quests were to reach Master:1 for Teaching, and Professional:1 for Beskar’pel, Beskar’rev and Mando’a.

That was a good number of training quests, but with a full session lasting nearly five months – plus the two-week break in the middle – and all of them covered in some way by a class at the Institute, as well as the fact that during the two-week break I could read up on the skills from the local Holonet, and I was confident I could reach the base objective for all of them without having to spend too many Skill Points.

The door to my room hissed and turned to see who was coming. Given that it was now past twenty-one hundred – and the last daily check by a nurse occurred just before lights-out; twenty-three hundred – it was likely a visitor; something that I’d had regularly since being placed in the room for ‘‘observation’’.

The first group to visit had been Commandant Kraviss and Duke Adonai.

Kraviss had explained the former students that I had fought against had been expelled from the Institute and turned over to the local authorities with a trial arranged for tomorrow. She assured me that, even though the current ruling government of the sector were more ‘‘lenient’’ than she would have liked, none of them would escape punishment.

Adonai had, after expressing his admiration for my combat skills and tactics, thanked me for helping his daughter defend her honour. He also confirmed what Serra had said by informing me that a Jedi Master would be arriving during the mid-session break. He promised me that, if the Jedi brought our lightsabers with them, both Serra and I would be allowed to keep them when we returned to the Institute to finish the session.

He was adamant that we do so, hinting that if we did not return to the Institute, it would be seen as an insult to the Mandalorian people and their honour and he assured me that he would do everything he could to convince the Jedi Master that we had to finish the session.

After the pair had left, my teammates stopped by. They were all glad that I was ok and Huzu informed me that Serra was bunked with Bo in another room just down the hall. All expressed their surprise and shock at how well I’d fought. Oh, they had known that I was good, but seeing me go all out – or what they thought was all out – had them all in awe of my skills.

They also told me that our team had been temporarily suspended from the team training, at least until Serra and I could return to classes and were cleared to take part in all combat classes.

After they left, and just before the end of the free time trainees had, Naz visited. She’d also informed me that Bo and Serra were in a room down the hall and that both were well. But after that, she spent her time making sure I was alright. She asked if I was comfortable, if I had access to the local Holonet and if there was anything I needed. I hadn’t, but I still thanked her for her concern. That earned me a small smile and blush, and she said she was concerned about me and wanted to make sure I was doing ok.

On the second night, after Naz had again visited and spent time ‘‘checking me for hidden injuries’’, I had a rather unexpected visitor as Gar Saxon walked in with a raven-haired girl. According to Observe, her name was Rook Kast and, after introducing herself and talking with me a bit about the ijaat’akaanir, she had told me that if she wasn’t with Gar, she might be interested in a little fun with me.

Gar had expressed his respect for how efficiently and deliberately I dealt with Morn, Bendak and their group. He also stated his expectation that we would meet in the final of the sparring tournament to determine this session’s Akaan’lor.

Rook had told me to pass on her approval of Serra’s approach to ending Morn and even offered to spar with her to help my friend gain experience against older and better fighters. I promised to pass on the offer, and as they turned to leave, I used Observe on Gar.

According to it, Gar now only disliked me and while he doubted that we would ever be friends, he wondered what kinds of battles I would face in the future, and if he might have a chance to join those conflicts.

Since my reputation with Gar had raised a full level – the exact numbers were never known to me – I wondered if this was true of the other trainees here, and the guests who had witnessed the ijaat’akaanir.

“Well, hello there, soldier.” Naz began as she stepped into the room, wearing a doctor’s coat that was several sizes too big for her frame and hung loosely over her shoulder. I couldn’t help but chuckle as this was the third time that she’d visited in three evenings.

“How is the patient this evening?” she asked with a smile as she sauntered from the door to the bottom of my bed and read the small datapad there. That pad functioned like a chart in a hospital on Earth, save that it was entirely electronic and was more detailed than what I’d seen in my old life.

“Naz,” I replied with a loud sigh and a roll of my eyes, “while I enjoy your company, don’t you have better things to do than visit me in a hospital?” She really didn’t need to come and see me each evening, though as she turned, and the overcoat managed to catch against her frame, I couldn’t deny she wasn’t a welcome distraction.

Naz pouted dramatically and placed a hand on her hip. “Now is that any way to speak to your nurse?” she asked as she sashayed the few steps it took to go from the bottom of my bed to beside me. “I think I’ll have to examine you closer to see if you’re suffering some kind of side-effect from your medicine.”

She leaned over me until her face was over my chest, which made the overcoat she was wearing droop low, drawing my eyes from her face to her body. Underneath the overcoat, she was wearing her training clothing, though it looked like either her training top was a size too small or she’d grown a bit as her breasts were pushing upwards, almost as if they wanted to escape the top.

“Naz!” I growled as I pulled my eyes back from the sight. She smirked, having caught me looking – which had clearly been her intention – and I mentally cursed having to go through puberty again for the… four-hundred and sixty-eighth time.

The last three nights had brought a return of her flirtation, but now it seemed more… focused. Before it had seemed to be nothing more than friendly behaviour, but now it felt like she was actively trying to gain my attention.

“Hmm, is something the matter?” She asked as her fingers lightly travelled from my arm to shoulder, tracing the muscle lines as she went.

She lifted her hand to my head, before pulling it back and gasping loudly, like an actress from a bad holofilm. “Oh my! You’re so cold. I think we need to warm you up.”

Her hand moved over my face, close enough that I could feel it brushing down my jawline until she neared my chest. As the hand touched the top of my medical robe – and a few fingers began to slip under to my bare chest – I lashed out and grabbed her wrist with my good arm.

“I’m fine, thank you,” I said as I held her wrist tightly. Thanks to my much higher strength – I was at, or just above what most humans were capable of already – there was no chance she could break my grip. Her eyes widened as she tried and failed to pull her arm from my grip and her mouth slipped open before she schooled her features and turned her head so that our eyes met.

“Are you sure?” she asked as she turned her wrist enough that our fingers could touch and licked her lips. “There isn’t anything I could do for you?” she asked as she rubbed her chest against my arm, and with both of us shifting our positions, it meant that my elbow was in an… awkward location.

“I thought you were done with this?” I asked as I released my grip on her and gave her a very gentle push backwards with the Force. It wasn’t enough to knock her down but made her stumble back a few steps before she could stabilize herself.

She smiled and licked her lips, though the smile began to slip as I kept my expression neutral. Seemingly unconsciously, she lifted her free hand and began to play with a few loose strands of her hair. “I… I was, I… uh, um, but after the ijaat’akaanir …” her words trailed off and she looked down at the floor and sighed. “You…”

She mumbled out something more, but she was too far away for me to make it out and it happened too fast for me to activate Enhance Sense. Without saying – or mumbling – anything else, she turned and began to walk towards the door.

“Naz,” I said, hoping she’d stop. But she kept walking and the door hissed open. “Naz, stop!” I demanded with a nudge from Force Persuasion.

While I could have used Force Compulsion, one of the classes in the Institute involved teaching students to be mentally strong and resist ‘‘outside influences’’. Since the Instructor often looked towards where Serra and I were sitting as he spoke of these influences, it wasn’t too hard to work out that he was referring to the Jedi’s relaxed usage of mind tricks to get a favourable outcome. Thus, I used the subtler, but less effective Force Persuasion on Naz.

And it seemed to help, as Naz stopped just before reaching the door.

“What's going on?” I asked even as I used Observe.

Naz Vizsla

Level: 17

Race: Human

Health: 100%

Age: 15

Force Potential: Intermediate

Threat Potential: Low

Reputation: Liked

Affiliation Loyalty: Clan Vizsla (80%) Pre Vizsla (75%) Death Watch (15%) You (15%)

Emotional State: Aroused/Confused/Conflicted

Naz finds herself attracted to you and wants to draw your attention away from Serra Keto.

Though she is confused as to why her efforts are not working with you as they had with Bo-Katan and others.

She wonders if it’s because you’re still a child, but she knows you like her.

She is also beginning to question what her father has told her about the True Way for their people.

…

Well, that explained a few things.

I knew that Naz thought I was cute and had flirted with me before the session had started, but that slight attraction had obviously evolved, and she was now trying to gain my full attention. The increase in Reputation – going from Neutral to Liked – was the same as I’d seen for Gar, so winning the ijaat'akaanir had clearly done more for my standing with those at the Institute than I’d realised. I’d have to use Observe on others to see how big of an effect winning the ijaat'akaanir had on my Reputation with others, as building a small power base among the next generation of Mandalorians would be extremely useful in the years ahead.

Still, I’d have to keep an eye on Naz’s issue with Serra. Jealousy between them was not something I wanted or needed to deal with.

Regarding Serra, things there were a lot… clearer now.

Not long after we’d arrived at the Institute, we’d spoken and come to a simple agreement. While we both admitted that we liked each other, we were both too young for… all that. While I couldn’t currently think of her as anything more than a friend, I couldn’t deny that in the future, there was the potential for it to become something more. She, meanwhile, was still growing both emotionally and physically and had admitted as such after some reflection. We agreed that our emotions were both too chaotic to attempt to establish anything meaningful at this point. That had allowed things to return to a more relaxed place with Serra and ensured that I wasn’t at risk of losing her friendship because I didn’t respond to her showing attraction towards me.

What was interesting to me, was that now Naz held as much loyalty to me as she did to Death Watch and that her loyalty to her clan was now a touch higher than that to her father. While having her show loyalty towards me was… nice, I was happier that her interest in Death Watch was dropping. If I could pull a child of Pre Vizsla away from Death Watch, it would undermine his influence before he even had control of the majority of the faction.

“N-nothing,” Naz replied slowly as one hand began to rub her other arm. “I-It’s just…” She sighed and turned back to face me, though she didn’t meet my eyes. “You. You, you’re not what I, um… you’re different.”

“Okay. Isn’t that a good thing?” I asked, trying to draw out verbally at least a hint of what Observe had revealed. I couldn’t exactly blurt out what that ability told me, so I often had to gently prod to draw it out of people verbally, lest they wonder if I was using some form of Jedi trick to manipulate them.

“I mean, I know you’re a Jedi, but you’re not.” She began, stressing the fact I was a Jedi. “And, it’s, um, it’s like you’re more Mando’ade than Jedi, yet you’re not one yet. And…” Her words trailed off and she sighed. “I just… You…”

“Come here,” I said gently and when she looked at me, I waved my hand to further encourage her.

As she stepped closer, I continued. “Just because I don’t react doesn’t mean I don’t know what you’re doing,” I began as she took a few steps towards me, “nor that I don’t… enjoy your attention. But, well, I’m twelve.” I chuckled at saying that to hide my internal concerns about being mentally thirty-two. Though I was beginning to realise that unless I spent my life chasing after women a few decades older than my physical age – the image of Fay from the crystal cave on Ilum flashed through my mind – then I’d have to accept that I’d become involved with females closer to my physical age. Though I had no plans for that to happen until I was legally an adult and a Jedi Knight.

“I know!” Naz whined as she took a step closer, “But…” She paused, seemingly to collect her thoughts, but whatever she wanted to add was cut off as the doors hissed open.

Naz pivoted, pulling the overcoat closed, and I saw Bo and Serra stepping inside. Serra was wearing a bandage-like glove over her hand – which was likely to limit her movement as that was the hand she broke – while Bo had nothing on her shoulder. Both were dressed in their regular trainee clothes, meaning that they were likely no longer patients of the medical centre.

“Cam! We…” Serra began, a large smile on her face. Though the smile fell as she spotted Naz, and her brow dropped. “W-were you busy?”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Naz blurted out as she pulled the overcoat even tighter against her body. “I was just about to leave.”

“Naz, stay.” I said as I wished that I wouldn’t now have the image of her backside – and how snugly the overcoat had been pulled against it – stuck in my mind.

[Please.] I added via Force Telepathy.

Naz’s head whipped around as her eyes widened to an almost comical level. “D-did you just…”

“Talk to you mentally? Yes.” I answered with a smirk.

[Hello, Bo.] I chuckled as Bo’s reaction mirrored Naz’s.

[You would think they were hearing voices?] I sent to Serra, who just smiled, seemingly enjoying the complete confusion that had engulfed the faces of the other two girls.

[Shame they can’t talk back.] She replied. At her words, a thought struck me, and I wondered if I could create a group chat with Telepathy.

WARNING!

The Force Power Telepathy is of an insufficient level for what is being attempted.

Unaided group conversations with this power are only possible from Master:1.

…

Well, so much for that idea.

[It might be possible, but I’m not skilled enough with telepathy to pull that off.]

[Yet.] Serra responded with a sense of certainty as I sensed her confidence in me through our bond. [If you want it to happen, you’ll make it happen.]

That kind of belief in me was both inspiring and a touch scary. If it went too far, it could easily become blind worship. And since the highest Reputation stratum was called ‘Worshipped’, my concerns there were real.

“Hey! Stop talking like that!” Bo snapped. Her eyes were narrowed as her head bounced between looking at me and Serra. There was no other outward sign of anger, so I suspected that she was likely just annoyed that we could talk that way.

“Jealous, much?” I retorted with a smirk.

Bo rolled her eyes and any anger in her posture dissipated, even as her jaw tightened. “No!” She responded without really opening her mouth.

That, I knew, was a lie.

While what had almost happened to Serra had been traumatic, it had broken the last barrier that was preventing Serra from speaking with me telepathically. Just before the trial by combat, Serra had told me that Bo had questioned her about the periods when Serra and I had communicated mentally. Serra had started adopting a generally vacant expression during our mental conversations – save for when she’d smiled or frowned at something we’d discussed – and Bo was concerned that Serra was having flashbacks. In an attempt to reassure her, Serra had confided in Bo about our Telepathy.

By all accounts, Bo was less than happy about the fact we could hold private, and arguably emotionally intimate, conversations telepathically. Bo’s jealousy didn’t seem to affect my friendship with her, but, as with Naz’s growing dislike of my closeness with Serra, it was something to keep an eye on.

Talking to Serra via the Force – which we’d been doing about a half dozen times a day – served to both help me level up the power and to strengthen my friendship with Serra. It also allowed me to apologise multiple times to her about what had happened, and even though she said it wasn’t my fault, I still blamed myself.

I knew that many were unhappy about two Jedi learning the ways of the Mando’ade. Instructor Wrajud held a lot of blame for that, and I planned to one day repay him for that. But I had thought I’d cut off the problem by integrating into the Institute and proving myself in the classes and activities. I never thought that I’d simply shifted their thoughts to Serra, who, while a competent fighter was weaker than me, nor had I made plans to protect her if someone went after her.

So, yeah, I’d apologised repeatedly to her.

She didn’t blame me, saying that it was her choice to be here, not mine and that in the end, I’d been there to help her. Which, she added, was what friends, especially best friends, did for each other.

And while I was relieved that she didn’t hate me for what had happened, or that it had cost me her friendship, I was still… angry. At the idiots who had attacked us, as well as the Institute for allowing blind spots to exist in their systems, though I suspected they existed – or had done so as the Commandant promised me that they would soon be monitoring equipment in the training rooms – so that students had private space to ‘‘unwind’. But mainly I was mad at myself.

Still, once I was able to get my self-loathing under control, I realised that I’d been neglecting my friendship with Serra because of her feelings for me. That didn’t do anything to help with my inwardly directed anger, but it did result in me promising myself to be a better friend.

Plus, with what was to come, I would need people around me who I could trust implicitly, and Serra was the only person my age that fell into that category. Fay and Dooku were both people I trusted, but as it stood right now, they were less likely to follow me on blind trust than Serra was, and with Dooku there was still a small chance that I could fail and he could become Darth Tyranus.

“You still can’t lie for osik, Bo,” Naz commented with a hint of a smile, proving that I wasn’t the only one who saw through Bo’s words. “Just like Satine.”

As Bo’s face turned the colour of her hair, I bit my lip to avoid laughing.

“I’m nothing like her!” Bo roared, which made Serra cough; likely to cover her laughter as well.

For all of Bo and Satine's differences, the two were more alike than either would care to admit. Strong-willed and driven, but with little understanding of subtlety, or a willingness to acknowledge that there were more ways to do things than what they believed. I did expect them both to learn some tact and open-mindedness as they aged; Satine especially, seeing as how she was on course to become a politician of considerable renown and respect – even if I didn’t agree with her choices, I couldn’t deny she was respected by others – something not commonly obtained without the aforementioned traits as prerequisites. But at the current moment in time, neither of them were able to see things from anything but their own perspective.

“Not that I have a problem with you being here, but why are you here?” I asked, trying to move things along from an impending argument.

“We’re free.” Bo answered with a smile, losing any anger that had been building at being compared to her sister.

“Ah.” I replied. That fit with why the pair were wearing their normal clothing instead of the stupid medical gown which I was still stuck in and also confirmed the thought that passed through my mind when the pair had first walked into the room.

“The doctors have said we’re free to return to classes tomorrow,” Serra explained, “though no evening activities until after the session break next week.”

That did make sense since even if her hand was healed, and Bo’s shoulder was fine, it was better to avoid any complications from sparring for a few more days at least.

“Congrats, you two. I wonder if I’ll get out before the break.” I said hopefully and flexed the arm I’d broken. Well, lifted it to show I had a black wrapping going from my shoulder to my wrist. It didn’t stop me from moving the arm, it just made it harder to bend or rotate it in any direction.

“What? You were in much worse shape than either of us. How are you…” Bo trailed off and shook her head. “The Force is bantha-osik.”

I smirked and nodded. “Yeah. I’ve got enough training with using the Force to heal that I was able to accelerate the mending of my arm.”

Both Bo and Naz’s brows wrinkled even as their eyes widened at hearing I’d used the Force to help myself heal, possibly because they were surprised at hearing I was skilled with what was an uncommon Force ability. Serra, since she’d grown up in the Temple and was comfortable around the Force, just winked and allowed a small smile to creep onto her face.

Any further conversation was cut off as the doors hissed open a third time, and a tall, well-built man stepped into the room. This was Doctor Yrawhl, and he’d been the one handling my after-fight care.

His eyes noted the three girls in the room with me, but he chose to ignore them for now and spoke directly to me. “Hmm, have they told you the good news?” He asked as he tapped a few buttons on his datapad.

“Yeah, they’re free to go back to classes,” I replied, though that made him chuckle.

“Not just them. Thanks to your… abilities helping to accelerate your healing, I see no reason why you also can’t return to classes. Though like Trainees Kryze and Keto, you are barred from combat classes and evening events until after the break. We’ll give you a check when you return, but so long as nothing’s amiss, you’ll be free to return to a full class load from then.”

“Thanks, Doc,” I said with a smile and swung my legs around so that I could stand. A cold draft reminded me that, like in my old life, medical gowns here were closer to dresses than shirts, but I ignored that. I also ignored the fact both Naz and Serra’s eyes widened a touch as I moved, and that their cheeks – along with Bo’s – got a little rosy.

“You’re welcome.” Yrawhl said as I stood and scrunched my toes to return feeling to them. “Now, as with Trainee Keto, I’ve forwarded your medical reports to the Duke’s palace. As you are his guests, and he is acting as your sponsor, he asked to be kept informed of your status.”

I rolled my neck and then shoulders as he spoke, though the latter was harder to do with the still-bandaged arm. Even if Player’s Body removed any issues with cramping, it still felt good to stretch after sitting for so long. Plus, it hid that my body wasn’t quite normal.

“Understandable,” I replied as I turned and picked up my datapad from the bedside table. “And I assume those reports have been sent to the Jedi Order on Coruscant?” While I expected that to be the case, I would’ve preferred it if it wasn’t.

Serra had told Master Drallig where she was studying, but there was the chance that he hadn’t informed the High Council as the training of a Padawan was at the discretion of their Master. However, if a medical report was sent to the Order – one detailing the injuries we’d suffered while training on-planet – then there was no way to hide where I was. Plus, I was sure that there were more than a few members of the Order – including between a third to a half of the High Council – who would have issues with my current location and training.

“I could not say. Normally, a clan elder would be informed of your injuries. However, with neither you nor Trainee Keto being born Mandalorian, that decision rests with your sponsor, Duke Adonai, and the arrangement he made with your Jedi Master before they allowed you to train here.” Yrawhl explained.

That had me offering a quick prayer to the Force that Fay and Dooku had asked for any reports about my time here to not be sent or sent to a member of the Coalition like Sifo-Dyas.

“My Master is aware of what happened, though not about the ijaat’akannir or my injuries.” Serra offered. “He should be arriving in a few days to check on our condition.”

So much for that prayer.

“Very well. Though it’s pronounced ijaat’akaanir. More stress on the long ‘a’ sound.” Yrawhl clarified with a slight smile. “And hopefully, beyond your check-ups after the break, I won’t be seeing any of you in here again. Good evening.”

We said our goodbyes to him and then Yrawhl left the room.

“Right,” Naz said breaking the momentary silence as the doors closed by clapping her hand together. “Let’s get you out of here. You’ve got some people who are… eager to talk to you.” While Naz looked at all of us as she spoke, her eyes settled on me as she finished. “Someone has earned themselves a following.”

I groaned loudly and my shoulders slumped. “Aw, kriff.”

This was becoming a downside of earning Reputation with large groups of people quickly or standing out from the crowd. The need for those people to give me titles and place more weight on my shoulders. Already I was seen by many Jedi as the Chosen One – and it was easy to see why Anakin became a little arrogant if he went through that for a decade – and by the Lokella as their Mtael.

There was a good chance that many more trainees were going to refer to me as Revan’ade. While so far, the only ones to use it regularly were my team, the name, as much as I loathed it, was already floating around the Institute. And since they held my ancestor in such high regard, even after nearly four thousand years, it wasn’t the worst thing they could use as my title.

Naz laughed loudly at my dejection and slapped my good shoulder. “Come on. Your adoring public awaits.”

I growled at her, though that only made her laugh more and I caught sight of Bo and Serra sharing a look before their shoulders started shaking as they walked in front of me.

Sometimes life just sucked.

… …

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

… …

“Right, this’ll do,” I said as I surveyed the small training room in the palace in Sundari that I’d just entered. I quickly look around with Force Sight and confirmed that there were no active recording devices, nor active power lines leading to unusual places.

“Do for what?” Serra asked as she followed me into the room but kept a short distance away from me.

I refrained from commenting on the distance, accepting it as a natural temporary by-product of what she had been through, but even so, I was relieved that she'd moved past the stage of flinching when we touched. She was still jittery around other boys and kept either me or one of the girls from our team between them and her whenever possible. But given the circumstances, that was entirely understandable.

“I want to show you something and make up for my mistake.” I replied as I placed the bag I was carrying on a table and pulled out the Force suppression bracers I had been using at the Institute. While I shouldn’t have been allowed to take them during the break, I had explained that I wished to keep training without access to the Force to the Commandant and Duke Adonai, and they had allowed me to borrow them for the next two weeks.

“I really am sor…”

“Cam, we’ve been over this,” she said with a sigh as she cut me off mid-word, “I don’t blame you for what happened.” As she spoke, she stepped closer and placed her hand on my forearm. “What… happened was their fault.”

I smiled, happy that she was able to, if only for a moment, overcome the fear that I knew still lurked in her mind about what had happened and be comfortable around me again.

Though any happiness I felt because of that was quickly lost as I was once again angrier at myself for having failed to protect my friend from anger and persecution that should have been directed at me. “But I should have seen it coming. I knew there were rumblings about us being there and doing so well. I was all but certain that someone would try something, but I didn’t think they’d go after you. Didn’t think that they’d…” My voice trailed off as I didn’t want to say what had almost happened to my friend, nor dwell on the anger that I still felt towards myself and the scum who’d tried to hurt her.

The trial of the nine had taken less than a day as the ruling New Mandalorian government had a standing agreement with the Institute and Duke Adonai that meant that even though they did not agree with the ideals of a trial by combat, they would accept it as proof of guilt.

As such, and with all of the boys being sixteen or older and having completed their verd’goten, eight of the boys had been sentenced to jail time. The minimum any would spend behind bars was two years, with Morn being given a sentence that didn’t have the possibility for early release until he had served ten years. Honestly, I felt the punishment was weak, that they deserved at least a decade each in jail. However, I knew it was not something I could control, nor was it much better than what would’ve happened in my old life.

Lanze Loc had been spared jail time – his acceptance of his actions and a word or two from me to the Commandant helping to save him – and instead, was sent back to his family’s homeworld. However, while he had avoided being labelled Dar’manda – mainly as the New Mandalorians did not use that term – his name was added to the Protector criminal rolls, meaning that he would carry the shame and stigma of what happened for the rest of his life.

If he had been branded Dar’manda, then his clan would have disowned him, and he would have been forced to leave the sector and regain his honour, though only Serra or myself could grant him that as we were the ones that were attacked.

And while I understood the reason for choosing to jail them, I felt the punishment was lacking. And that was not my anger speaking but a belief that those who planned to carry out such heinous actions should face punishment more fitting of the crime. Like castration or sterilization for attempted rapists.

“You can’t see the future,” Serra said, only for her brow to crease. “Or are you also a seer?”

I chuckled once and patted her hand. I happily noted that there was no reaction from her – at least outwardly – to my action. “Sort of, but that’s a discussion for another time. For now, just watch.”

I took a step back from her and then slipped on and activated the bracers. I dismissed the notice from the Interface about a Force Disruption field and turned my arms to show her the bracers were now active. “What are these?”

“Um, Force suppression bracers,” Serra replied dryly as she crossed her arms. “The Mandalorians have had those since the war against Revan and we’ve been using them for the last two months.” She finished with a single brow rising as she spoke.

“Wrong,” I replied as I casually lifted her with the Force, smirking as she squeaked in shock. “The name used for these is actually a misnomer. They only disrupt our connection to the Force; they don't suppress it. Now, are there ways to completely block out the Force? Probably, but technology such as this doesn’t do that. They make it harder to concentrate on accessing and using the Force, but it can still be done.” As I finished explaining, I gently lowered her back to the ground.

Her eyes, still wide in surprise and shock, looked from my face to the bracers then back. “B-but… how… Wait!” She stumbled through her words until the metaphorical light turned on in her mind. “That’s how you’ve been winning so easily! You’re cheating!”

“No, not really.” I replied even as I smirked. “I haven’t used the Force during any spar in class.”

“And the ijaat’akaanir?” She asked as one eyebrow rose.

I shrugged. “Yeah, I don’t deny that I used it there. But why shouldn’t I? These bracers limit our abilities, thus, in theory, making us easier to defeat in combat. So, if anyone is cheating, it’s the Institute for insisting we are handicapped against them.”

“But the Force grants us abilities beyond what others can do.”

“That’s never stopped Mandalorians from killing Jedi before, nor training to do so in future.” I countered and shrugged. “So why shouldn’t I find a way to overcome their attempts to hold us down?” As I finished, I clinked the bracers against each other.

Serra’s brow creased, and she tilted her head to one side. “I guess…” she said, though she didn’t sound nor look convinced.

I touched the button to depower them. After what had happened, the Commandant provided us with the deactivation code for them instead of us needing to find an Instructor to deactivate them for us. Having the deactivation code was something I firmly believed we should have had from the get-go. The Commandant agreed with me when I shared that sentiment and promised to look into who had failed in their duty to provide us with the codes.

“And you’ve also pushed through the disruption once before.” I continued.

“Huh?”

I managed to stifle a laugh at Serra’s complete lack of understanding even as I pulled the bracers off.

“You called out to me while yours were active,” I explained as I put the bracers down on the table even as she slid to the other side. “And, judging by the state the room was in when I arrived, I suspect you also used the Force to drive everything back.”

“Ah, right.” She replied as it dawned on her what I was talking about. Her gaze shifted, now looking down at the bracers, and she began to twist some loose hair that had fallen out from behind her hairband. “I… I was, um, scared. Really, really scared.”

I stepped around the table and placed a hand on her shoulder but said nothing.

Through our Force bond, I sensed the usual emotions from her at my actions – though I was grateful that they seemed to be less intense than before – along with relief and a sense of comfort.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

A few moments later, she lifted her head and met my gaze, then gave me a weak smile.

A returned her smile with one of my own. “Yes, you were scared, but you still pushed passed the, um, interference.” I began to explain as I removed my hand from hers. “That means you can do it again.”

“B-but, I…”

“You’re worried that you could only do so because you used your emotions?” I asked, cutting her off by asking the question that should cut right to her concerns. She nodded and I sighed. “Don’t be. We’re only human after all, and emotions are a part of what makes us, us.”

“But the Code…”

“Which code?” I silenced her and cut off her bog-standard Jedi response by raising my hand. “The older one that I shared with you, about the importance of 'Emotion, yet Peace?' or does your mind still jump to the more sanitized code that the Council repeats in their apathetic mantra?”

I sighed as I saw her eyes widen and knew that, in my frustration, I'd pushed a little further than what she was ready for right now. I ran my raised hand through my hair as I took a deep breath and tried to explain in terms she could understand and accept.

“The Code is… a guide. Nothing more. To deny that we feel happy or sad, or that we can love or hate, is… flawed at best. Downright stupid at worst. Like any living creature, we feel. However, because we are more sensitive to the Force, we must be careful because of our feelings. Our emotions can influence how we use the Force. And how it uses us.” She frowned at my words, and I sensed her confusion through the Force, though I continued.

“The Jedi Code teaches us to release our emotions into the Force, to let it take the burden from us. The Sith seem to believe that indulging in one’s passions and dominating the Force is the way to go. Personally, I think both are… flawed.” I paused and shook my head. “But that’s a debate for another day. For now, I want you to put on the bracers and try to lift the bag.”

I couldn’t deny that I lacked faith in the Jedi and Sith Codes and wondered if there was a third path to take, one that would work better for myself and others. And while I did wish to have Serra consider that as well, it was something for the future, not the present.

For a few seconds, she stayed still. Likely, she was processing what I’d hinted at. However, she soon reached down and picked up the bracers. Slowly she slid them on and activated them – her doubt clear to sense through our bond – yet she did lift out a hand towards the bag.

Her using the standard Jedi and Sith approach of telegraphing their usage of the Force had me wondering if it was truly necessary. I knew I didn’t have to do it, but perhaps that was just because of the Interface.

As she lifted her other hand in an attempt to put more power into her action, I took a step back. For what I initially had planned, the likelihood that her moving the bag would be more… aggressive than I’d like, so some distance should give me time to react.

I continued to watch as her brow creased and she clenched her teeth, trying harder and harder to duplicate what I had just done. Soon, I began to hear her breathing heavily as if running hard before she grunted, and her hands fell to her knees.

“I. Can’t. It’s. Too. Hard.” She finished between breaths.

“Nothing worth doing is ever easy,” I responded as she continued to inhale deeply. “I have an idea that might work, but it’s… not something the Order would approve of.”

Her head turned to look at me and one of her eyebrows rose, which was what I was hoping for.

“When you… when that happened, you lashed out in fear and anger.” I explained slowly, trying to dance around the incident without explicitly mentioning it. This was risky, as there was no way she was over what had happened and pushing her to relive that moment was… dangerous. But I couldn’t see any other way to begin her training in using the Force with the bracers active.

“I…I remember.” Serra replied slowly, her face losing some of its heightened colour as her breathing came under control. “I, uh, I’ve spoken about it...a little with Doctor Rathig. Um, she’s been asked...by the Duke to talk with...me about what happened.” Her sentences came out in parts between deep breaths.

“Ah, good.” I said and gave her what I hoped was an encouraging smile. “I’m glad there’s someone who knows about these…things for you to talk to.”

“I wish Master Fay was here.” Serra blurted out, only for her face to redden and her eyes widened for a moment. “Um, we, uh, talked a bit about…things before she left.”

“Uh, ok. That’s, um, good.” There wasn’t really much I could say regarding that, though I made a mental note to thank Fay when I next saw her. Somehow, I suspected that Serra’s new-found control regarding her feelings was the work of my master and not just some great epiphany that Serra had.

Coupled with our agreement to table any development of our relationship until we were older, I felt I owed Fay a lot of thanks for handling a problem that I had chosen to just ignore. In retrospect, that was a horrible decision on my part, and Fay had saved my bacon with her actions.

“Anyway, let’s try again. Though with a little twist.” I said as I pulled a small sheet out from the bag and motioned for Serra to turn around.

She did so cautiously, and once her back was to me, I stepped towards her. “This time, I want you to lift the bag without seeing it,” I said quietly as I tied the sheet around her head, covering her eyes. A mixture of confusion and arousal came over the bond before she clamped down on her feelings.

“How is this going to make things any easier?” She asked even as I stepped back.

“Familiarity,” I replied as I pulled a small ball from the bag with Telekinesis. The ball was the size of a tennis ball, though it was denser and tougher. I’d be making sure the ball didn’t go fast enough to hurt Serra, just enough to irritate and annoy. “You’re going to lift the bag while avoiding a training ball.”

“Cam…” Serra’s voice didn’t sound certain, and a sense of uneasiness flowed from her via the Force.

“Trust me,” I replied while reassuring her emotionally via the bond. “You can do this. Now lift the bag.”

She turned her head to look at the bag and stretched out her hand. As she did so, I moved the ball with the Force and had it clip against the back of her hand.

She pulled her hand back as if it was burnt and both hands moved upwards, towards the blindfold.

“Stop!” I ordered, without any use of the Force, and she obeyed. “I asked you to lift the bag, not remove the blindfold.”

“But you hit me with the ball!” She shot back with a scowl, which looked strange as her eyes were covered. Her annoyance and confusion were easy to sense via the Force.

“I did. It is part of the exercise after all.” I explained, letting a small smile creep onto my face at what I had planned. “Avoid the ball and move the bag. I know you can do it.”

She glared at me from behind the blindfold, though I sensed no anger through the Force, only annoyance. Eventually, she sighed and turned her head back towards the bag. “Fine.”

Again, she stretched out her hand towards the bag, and again I clipped it with the ball. However, this time, she didn’t pull her hand back. Instead, she kept her hand out, the only sign that the ball had struck was a momentary grimace on her lips.

I moved the ball around with the Force, making it arc around to clip off Serra’s palm. This time, there was only the briefest sense of annoyance through our bond as she kept her concentration on the bag. As the ball swerved around again – this time clipping her just above the wrist – I smirked as I sensed her annoyance grow and the slightest hint of anger develop.

For the next few minutes, I continued to move the ball around as she tried to lift the bag, even going so far as to extend her second hand towards the bag. The ball bounced and ricocheted around the room, striking her on both arms from her hands to shoulders in what I hoped was a seemingly random pattern of location and timing. As I did this, her annoyance grew and then evolved into first frustration, then outright anger. As I watched her progress, I considered what I was having her attempt.

There were risks to this plan, of that I had no doubt. My memories of what I’d experienced in the Dark Side shrine under the Jedi Temple were easy to remember thanks to Eidetic Memory. As were the whispers and promises that moved with the very air and tempted me to take what was mine, to use the power the Dark Side offered. Yet I also knew, though I wondered if I truly understood why, that the dark side was a… shortcut to more powerful abilities or outcomes. Hence why I was pushing Serra to overcome her challenge with her anger and frustration.

With this place not being awash with the Dark Side, my being here, and her trust in me, I felt that things were as safe as I could make them to push her to, at the very least, experience the touch of the Dark Side while doing something that she felt was all but impossible.

“Come on, I thought you could do this.” I goaded just over five minutes since she’d started to try and lift the bag while blindfolded. I directed the ball to strike her calf with more force than normal, and she grunted – almost growled actually – as it bounced away. Her anger grew further as this happened and, preparing for what I expected to come, I took another step back.

She snarled loud enough that I could hear her but gave no other outward sign that my words, the ball and her inability to lift the bag were angering her.

I looped the ball around and had it clip against the inside of both forearms before striking her shoulder even as I took a few steps to the side so that I could see her face. If I had done this a few months ago, I would’ve added in more verbal degradation but now I didn’t. I wasn’t going to reopen her mental wounds regarding the attack.

As the ball arched around and clipped her just below an elbow, I caught sight of her knuckles whitening and saw sweat begin to roll down her forehead. The ball then bounced off the ground and angled into, then off her shin – drawing a hiss from her – before grazing against her stomach.

She growled loudly, and her anger sparked like a solar flare through the Force. Sensing that this was the moment I was pushing her towards, I aimed the ball at her chin.

The moment it hit, her brow shot upwards and she screamed.

In an instant – and without any warning from Precognition – I was lifted off my feet and sent flying backwards.

“Oof!” I grunted as my back struck the hard metal wall, then gasped as the ball rocketed into my gut.

As I slumped to the ground wondering why Precognition hadn’t warned me of an incoming attack, a new notice appeared flashed in the Interface.

Force Damage Taken

-10HP due to being struck by a wave of negatively-infused Force energy.

-3HP due to a sonic attack.

Force regeneration is lowered by 5% for 1 minute.

…

“Fuck me.” I moaned as rubbed my stomach and glared at the ball as it bounced away.

As I dismissed the notice, I realised that Serra hadn’t just lashed out with a blast of Telekinesis, but instead had used a Force Scream. The attack had been unintentional, uncontrolled and unrefined, but it was able to limit my Force Regen and deal two different forms of damage – three actually, as I saw that I’d lost a few more HP points from hitting the wall.

That Serra, with no control or understanding had been able to do such damage with her first taste of the dark side was… concerning. I’d expected an outburst, even hoped for it, but to feel her anger, to almost be able to taste it, as I was launched back into the wall… It was scary and humbling to realise just how little I understood about the Dark Side. And that many of the lessons about the inherent dangers of it were true, from a certain point of view.

It also had me wondering just what a Force Scream from someone trained to use such a power and the focus to control could do. There was a fair chance that power could kill anyone caught in its shockwave. Heck, it might even be able to disintegrate matter if it was powerful enough.

That had me thinking that it should be possible – with the Dark Side/negative emotions – to kill with a glance.

Force Power Discovered!

Deadly Sight

The ability to kill and even disintegrate a living target by simply staring at them.

However, this power will only blister the skin and vaporise extremities if not fuelled by negative emotions.

It is regarded as a dark side power by all established orders of Force users.

…

WARNING!

Deadly Sight is locked until Force Sight is Prodigy:1, Pyrokinesis to Savant:1 and Force Plague to Master:1.

…

Force Power Discovered!

Force Plague

The ability to create an unnatural toxin in a living target that, if left untreated, will kill them very quickly in a very painful way.

However, this power is all but useless when not fuelled by negative emotions, and any toxin created without the requisite emotions will dissipate with no after-effects once the power is cancelled.

This plague can be infectious and targeted at multiple beings simultaneously at higher levels. The rate of infection is also dictated by level.

It is regarded as a dark side power by all established orders of Force users.

…

WARNING!

Force Plague is locked until Force Affliction is Master:1.

…

Force Power Discovered!

Force Affliction

The ability to create the symptoms of a slow-acting poison in a living being that, if maintained for long enough, will result in death.

This poison can be targeted at multiple beings simultaneously at higher levels.

It is regarded as a dark side power by most established orders of Force users.

…

WARNING!

Force Affliction is locked until Force Slow [Weaken] is at Master:1.

…

I tried to not let my eyes bulge at the new powers I’d just learnt. Even if the more deadly ones were locked away, the potential carnage they could unleash…

Yeah, I was going to have to spend some time once I was alone thinking about those powers, and why they were different from what they’d been in KOTOR 1 and 2. I’d also have to think about all the powers, light or dark, base or upgraded from the games to see what else I could learn.

After learning any other Force Powers from going over the way the Force was depicted in KOTOR 1 and 2, I’d have to have a long hard think about just what the Dark Side really was.

During my first few months at the Jedi Temple, I’d… well, I’d let my mind wander during many of the lessons about the dangers and issues posed by the Dark Side, rationalizing that since I seemed to be living in a game or other type of simulation, that those same rules didn't apply to me. At the very least, I had assumed that Player’s Mind would protect me from any possible 'corruption'. In retrospect, those assumptions were flawed. Thus, I’d have to review those lessons in my mind – thank the Force for Eidetic Memory – and then try to determine just what was true and what was mindless Jedi drivel and propaganda, otherwise, I’d never feel comfortable using a Dark Side power properly.

Now, I doubted I’d ever want or need to use something like Deadly Sight, but it was better to have it in the armoury on the off chance that I ever did need them than not have it and actually need it.

“Cam!” Serra squealed and I looked up to see that she’d ripped off the blindfold – it was now lying on the floor next to the table – and moved to crouch beside me. “Are you alright?” she asked as her hand moved towards me.

“Yeah. Just a wounded ego, nothing important.” I replied with a chuckle as I gripped her arm and allowed her to help me stand. As I regained my footing, I used Force Heal to restore the lost HP.

“I-I’m sorry. I... I lost control… and um, uh…” She mumbled as we let go of each other’s forearms and she took a step back.

“And...you moved the bag,” I said, cutting off her stammering by pointing to the corner to my left. Her head whipped around and she stared at the bag.

Her brow shot upwards and her eyes widened. “W-what?!” She managed to get out, though her voice was at a higher pitch than normal. Though she shifted, and as her brow came back down, I sensed her shock and surprise give way to shame and regret. “B-but, I… I lashed out though. I shouldn’t have done that.”

I mentally sighed and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Serra, we’re not in the Temple.” I began, noting that she didn’t flinch away from the contact. “I’m not going to punish you for showing that you’re a living being and not a droid.”

I smiled as her focus returned to me. “Regardless of how you did it, you managed to make the bag move even while wearing active bracers. Now, I want you to try again, though perhaps this time we can find a way which doesn’t result in me being thrown into a wall.” I added with a chuckle and a wink to let her know I wasn’t annoyed about it.

“Okay.” Serra’s shoulders slumped as she replied and moved to collect the bag. My smile fell as I realised that my attempt at humour had failed.

“Serra,” I said more seriously as she reached the back and bent down. “I’m not angry or upset you sent me into the wall. I'm proud.”

She turned quickly to look at me in confusion.

“You’ve proved that you can move the bag while there was interference between you and the Force. And while you did use your negative emotions to do that, it simply proves that you can do it. Though...I do wonder if you can do the same thing but while drawing on happier emotions.”

That last part was nothing more than an idea I’d been slowly forming. After all, if anger and hate could be used to power destructive abilities, why couldn’t more positive feelings be used to enhance protective and more creative Force abilities?

She had picked up the bag now and was facing me fully again. Her lips were pressed tight together, and her brow creased as I continued.

“So, this time I want you to think about the moments that have made you happiest; like being taken as Master Drallig’s Padawan. Draw on those memories, and the feelings linked to them, and lift the bag.”

Her lips pursed and she shook her head even as she placed the bag back on the table. As she picked up the blindfold and reapplied it, I could sense her growing doubt through the Force. Though underneath that were hints of happiness. That happiness began to push through the doubt and turn into joy, arousal and even a hint of embarrassment as she extended her hand towards the bag.

“Serra, a bird sitting on a branch doesn’t fear the branch breaking because it has faith in itself and its ability to fly.” I quoted, using an old expression I’d heard in my former life. “I trust, I know, that you can do this. You just need to have that faith, that trust, in yourself.” Hopefully, the idea behind the expression would help her, not just here but in the future for overcoming the self-doubt that I often sensed in her.

Whether or not she understood my words, or gave them any thought, I couldn’t say as her attention and concentration were on the bag. Yet, after nearly a minute of the bag not moving, I began to sense her annoyance grow as the first hints of doubt seeped out from her.

“Concentrate on your best memories.” I encouraged, knowing that what I was asking was different from what anyone, Jedi or Sith, would suggest. “Think about the moment when you first made a lightsaber, or when you first beat Sia-Lan in a spar. Think of the moments that made you happiest, made you feel the most alive. Draw on those feelings, those sensations and embrace them. Let them build within you and empower you. Trust in them, as you trust in the Force.”

It took a fair bit of work for me not to cringe at the change in direction that my words had taken. Most of that sounded more like I was trying to coax out a Patronus from the Harry Potter books than anything else. I kept my face neutral and was glad that Telepathic Shield was always active to prevent her from sensing my annoyance at myself for my word choice. Yet, even as I wondered if I could have phrased that better, I sensed the doubt in her decreasing once more; replaced by excitement and desire.

Sensing this, I decided to test a theory of mine about why I was often more emotional around Serra and activated Player’s Mind.

Instantly, I felt my sense of joy and happiness decrease, which proved to me that at least part of the problem I’d been having with my emotions around Serra was due to some form of feedback loop from our bond.

With that confirmed, and me now aware of why I often seemed to be struggling to control my emotions around Serra, I braced for the overflow of emotions as I turned off Player’s Mind.

Now that I knew what to expect, I was prepared for them and even as Serra continued to try to move the bag, I began to separate her emotions from my own.

Confident that I had, I activated Emphatic Shield to see if it would also block the overflow of emotions through the bond. It did, and I felt a little stupid at not having it active. I’d stopped using it once I was able to keep Telepathic-Shield running constantly, though now I saw the problem that could cause and reactivated it. Thankfully, with the power at its maximum level, Emphatic Shield’s FP drain was negligible – just 10FP per minute.

The emotions I expected to be blocked out were, which was a relief. I was averse to keeping Player’s Mind active constantly as I felt… less than alive when I reviewed the times it was active afterwards.

I also made a mental note to speak with Serra about improving her mental barriers, though how to approach that without seeming like I was complaining was going to be difficult. The wrong word or suggestion could cause her to pull away, and with what happened being so fresh in her memory, such a thing could have long-term problems for our friendship.

Eventually, after about another minute of Serra straining to use the Force with the bracers active, I saw movement on the table. The bag wasn’t lifting off the table, though the top of it was beginning to ripple as if caught in a strong breeze.

“That’s it. You’re almost there.” I offered as encouragement and saw more of the bag react as if caught by the wind. “Just a little bit more. Draw on those happy thoughts.” I cringed again at how silly and juvenile that sounded, but there wasn’t much else I could think to do or say.

Slowly, more of the bag began to shift, then slowly the whole bag began to move around the table. I allowed a smile to creep onto my face, and it exploded fully into being as the bag suddenly lifted upwards and began to circle above the surface of the table.

“Open your eyes.”

Serra did as I asked, and the instant she saw the bag levitating about twenty centimetres above the table, her brow shot upwards into her hairline and her eyes widened. Though her shock at managing to lift the bag – and have it under control – resulted in her losing her concentration and it fell back down to the table.

“I... I, did it?” She asked slowly, as I chuckled and nodded.

“You did.”

Her confusion and shock morphed into happiness as a large smile spread across her face. “I did it!” She exclaimed with a laugh as she began jumping. “I did it!”

I chuckled at her behaviour, though this drew her attention and she all but leapt at me, wrapping her arms around my neck.

“I did it! I did it!” She exclaimed over and over as her momentum, which was off to my right-hand side, forced me to rotate and wrap my arms around her waist; lest she ended up sailing passed me and into the wall. On what was likely instinct, she lifted her feet and we spun around – which gave me another chance to recognize her emotions as they flooded over our bond – before I slowed the spin.

“Yes, you did. Well done.” I said as her feet came back to the ground.

As that happened, and she calmed down a touch, she realised just how close we were standing – and how our arms were locked around each other – and I sensed a common mixture of emotions coming from her through the Force. She quickly unclasped her hands and slipped free of my grip, before taking a small step back.

While she did a far better job of limiting her blushing than a few months previously, her cheeks did still get a fraction redder, and she looked away.

“That… it was harder to move the bag that time, but it felt like I was more… in control I guess,” Serra said as she rubbed her upper arm and kept her gaze away from me. “When, when I was, um, angry, I, uh… lashed out and everything went flying. I felt… powerful. Yet I… I felt as though I was drowning. Like the anger was moving the bag, not me.” She finished as her eyes drifted to the bag.

Ignoring any tension that she might have felt at overdoing her reaction to lifting the bag – after all, she was allowed to be proud of what she accomplished – I considered her words. They fit with what I’d felt in those moments when my anger had flared, and the Force had reacted. Most of the time, I used Player’s Mind – intentionally or not – to counter the effects, but that was just a coping mechanism while I grew up once more. Plus, since the Interface was hinting that certain powers needed emotional input to be more effective, I knew I couldn’t rely on Player’s Mind every time my emotions flared.

“That sounds about right,” I replied slowly, not wanting to make her feel like she’d done something wrong. “Though was there anything else?”

Because of my old life, I was in a unique position to understand that emotions of any kind can be both beneficial and harmful. That to deny them fully was a flawed approach.

Yet, from those rare moments when I’d grown angry in this second life or found myself in a place touched by the dark side – which was only the shrine under the Jedi Temple, but I knew I’d likely encounter other such places in the future – I’d found the temptation to embrace those darker impulses. To give in and enjoy the moment. At times it felt like there was a voice whispering in the back of my mind, teasing me, cajoling me to let go of my control over my emotions and let my anger soar.

I hoped that knowing more about my emotions from my former life would help to… temper that voice inside. The Jedi – well, most of them – preached that you needed to let go of your emotions, to not let them guide you, to not accept them as a part of yourself; none of that sat right with me. To deny that we were emotional was, in my mind, a flawed approach.

Yet the few small hints that I’d sensed of the dark side made me wonder if there was a real danger in letting go, indulging in your emotions without the control to temper yourself. This was why I was curious about how Serra – someone raised all their life within the Temple – reacted to brushing against the Dark Side.

Serra shook. No, she shivered, for a second before she answered quietly. “Y-yeah. The first time… that I…. moved the bag, I… it was… tempting. It felt good, really good. But I… I know that’s the wrong way to do things. It’s the path to the Dark Side.” This time I was sure she shivered, and I stepped forward and slowly placed a hand on her shoulder and through the contact felt her breathing rapidly. Clearly, the act of lifting the bag while wearing the bracers had taken a good bit out of her.

“It is, but denying those emotions just makes it easier for you to be tempted by them if there is ever a moment where your anger, or other emotions, overwhelm you.” I countered slowly as her focus came back to me. “Remember that your emotions are a part of you. To deny them, to bury them, only makes you more vulnerable to losing control when the temptation to grow angry that much more dangerous. You run the risk of letting your emotions overwhelm you if you bury or deny them.”

I felt that there was a way to balance the basic fact that we were emotional beings with the dangers inherent in letting our emotions mix with the Force. Yet, I was all but certain that such a way, such a path, would be a million times more difficult – at least – to achieve for those like Serra and myself who were sensitive to the Force.

“The Code tells us to let go of our emotions,” Serra responded quickly, almost reciting it instinctively, but I could sense the doubt in her. “But I… I felt calmer, more in control the second time. More than I normally do when I meditate.” She finished, her breathing becoming a little more controlled, though her shoulders were beginning to slump. “It, it was like feeling happy and… loved made me more… focused, I guess.” She shrugged. “But that doesn’t work with the Code.”

I nodded. “As I've said, the old wording of 'Emotion, yet Peace' works better. Though even that isn’t perfect.”

Serra tilted her head to one side and scrunched up her face. “What about the ancient founders? The Je’daii? Didn’t they have a Code?”

“There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no fear, there is power. I am the heart of the Force. I am the revealing fire of light. I am the mystery of darkness. In balance with chaos and harmony, Immortal in the Force.” I repeated, silently thanking Eidetic Memory and I watched as Serra’s mouth opened as I easily spoke the words.

“Y-you remembered that very quickly.” She said as her eyes narrowed.

I shrugged. “Eh, I’ve been giving this,” I waved at the bracers and the bag, “a lot of thought and so the Je’daii Code has been floating around my mind for a while. Though that code fits better with my thoughts, it still feels… lacking.”

“In balance with chaos and harmony.” Serra offered and I nodded.

“Yeah.” I paused and scratched my chin. “I mean, it’s better, but still… Emotions, be they positive or negative, have both good and bad effects on us. Or at least that’s what I think, so denying them… weakens us. Makes us less… alive.” I shrugged and sighed. “Sorry if I’m not making a lot of sense.”

Internally I was a bit surer of what I wanted to say. However, if I didn’t show any sign of uncertainty in my thoughts when I’d supposedly only been thinking about it for a few weeks, and when I wasn’t entirely sure about where my thoughts were leading... Well, that would likely make her suspicious of my motives.

Serra would likely be the first Jedi who I’d try to coax to join me in taking a more open-minded approach to the Force and emotions. And unlike Fay and Dooku, who weren’t exactly poster children for the High Council themselves, Serra was immersed in the orthodox Jedi approach and thus would need to be drip-fed concepts that made her question everything she knew without destroying her beliefs.

“No, you are. I think.” Serra blurted out as she took a small step towards me. “I mean, I get what you’re trying to say. Um… You want me to try and use both my anger and happiness when I lift the bag, right?”

“Yeah, basically, that’s what I want you to try now.” I replied though I was hoping she’d also see the possible link between what I was teaching her now and what I was implying; that maybe, using our emotions to power our abilities made them stronger. Though that, and the warnings about enjoying our darker impulses too much, would now have to wait for another time.

“Okay.” Serra turned and moved back towards the table, only to stop mid-step and turn back to face me. “Cam?”

“Hmm?”

She rubbed her upper arm and tried to look me in the eyes but seemed to fail. “Iwanttodotheverd’gtoen.”

“Wha?” I asked as my mind processed what she’d just blurted out. “Ah…”

“I want to do the verd’goten.” She repeated, this time at a pace that was easier to understand, though I’d already worked it out in my head.

Internally, I was pleased with that, but outwardly I stayed calm. I didn’t want her to link her decision to making me happy. That could lead to problems in future.

“Okay,” I responded.

“I need to prove to myself that…” She rattled off before stopping mid-sentence and look me dead in the eye. “Wh-what?”

“I said okay,” I responded as I smiled a little. “The choice has always been yours, and I said I’d support you no matter what you chose to do, or why.”

She stood there for a moment, her mouth hanging open before she seemed to process what I’d said. “Okay. But, um, I want to do it when the session is over. I know you can’t do yours yet, but I want to do mine as soon as I can. After… I think my Master will want me to return to the Temple and, while I want to go back, I want… No, I need to do this.”

Her tone and posture became surer as she explained herself, and while she didn’t explain why she needed to attempt a verd’goten – I had a few ideas, but that’s all they were – I didn’t care. I said the truth months ago when I said it was her choice. Now, was I happy she was going to do it? Yes. But in the end, the choice was always hers.

“Okay. We can talk with Bo and her father later.” I offered as since the Duke was our host and sponsor at the Institute, he would likely be the one to organize a verd’goten for Serra. Though I would make sure to go with whoever went along to keep an eye on her. Even if I couldn’t interfere, I wanted to be on hand in case anything happened and to provide moral support. “For now, back to the bag.”

Serra rolled her eyes as she turned. “Yes, Master.” She muttered and I could sense her amusement through the Force, and she reached out for the bag once more. Though this time minus the blindfold.

“Now this time, instead of letting any good or bad feelings and emotions grow within you, I want you to call on both. Don’t let either side overwhelm you though. Try to find a point where they are… comfortable. In balance. That point where happiness and sadness, love and hate, rage and serenity are… balanced.” I offered.

It was unlikely that she’d be able to find such a point today, or any time soon as she was still young. However, if she could learn the lesson about control and acceptance of emotions, I felt she’d be a more well-rounded person when older. And it would likely help her with the chaos and carnage to come.

She gave the faintest of nods and I took a step back. There was little more I could offer as even words would be a distraction. So, I moved to the wall and quietly watched as she took her first attempt at a new approach to using the Force and her emotions.

……

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

……

I stood at the edge of the room and watched as Serra guided her main lightsaber up to easily block the incoming strike from her opponent, Empatojayos Brand. While she was able to block Brand’s strike, the strength he put behind it knocked her blade back and forced her to slide a foot back to shift her body weight and avoid Brand’s follow-through.

Brand tried to use that slight opening to drive an elbow into Serra’s face, but she was ready for that and leaned back and clipped the elbow with her off-hand shoto-saber. That was her first hit, making the score two-to-one, and I smiled at the fact Serra was adapting what I’d taught her into her style.

“Comfortable with Makashi, Padawan Serra has become. This is your handiwork, I understand.”

I shifted my focus to see Brand’s Jedi Master, Yaddle, from the corner of my eye. She was sitting on a table next to me, and while her focus was on the spar as well, I sensed that she was more interested in speaking to me.

“With Master Dooku’s permission, I have been helping Serra with the basics of the Form,” I replied calmly as Serra leapt backwards to avoid an aggressive slash from Brand. “Mainly as I feel it has elements that work well with Jar’Kai and her build.” Brand followed up his slash with a step forward and a straight kick that just clipped Serra’s arm, making the score three-to-one in his favour.

Brand was using his height, weight and greater training with a lightsaber to his advantage, though from my observations I felt he lacked any real-world experience. His movements were too clinical. While Serra was doing well against the much older – nineteen in both age and level – Padawan, and while I was less than impressed by his overly aggressive manner, it was clear that he would win the spar. The question was just when. I hoped that Serra could drag the spar out for ten minutes – they’d been at it for about four – and get three or four strikes against him.

From observing those four minutes, it appeared that Brand preferred to use Djem So mixed with some Shii-Cho, but he was spending little time blocking or parrying Serra’s strikes, being almost dismissive of them, and was focusing on powering through her defences. As he proved again by smashing aside one of Serra’s blades as it blocked, though again Serra was able to move just enough to avoid the follow-through.

As this happened, my hand slid down to brush against the hilt of my lightsaber. While I hadn't exactly been lost without having the blade at my side the last few months, it was nice to have it back. It felt as if a piece of me – one I hadn’t realised was missing – was back where it belonged. I was thankful that Master Yaddle had brought both mine and Serra’s main blade with her when she came to check up on us.

“Still, credit you are due. Interest in teaching others, an uncommon thing among Padawans.” Yaddle continued and I turned my head as I noticed that she was no longer watching the spar but was instead focusing on me. “Where we are standing, also uncommon for Jedi.”

I smirked at her subtle comment on the fact that Serra and I had chosen to come to Mandalore for training.

When Yaddle and Brand had arrived yesterday, during the mid-session break, it had been a surprise. Serra was disappointed that her Master hadn’t come, though Yaddle explained why that was. This week lined up with the Initiate Trials, and as Battlemaster of the Order Master Drallig was required to oversee the events that would be taking place.

Later, once Yaddle had been greeted by Duke Adonai and we were able to find some time alone, Yaddle explained exactly why she was here instead.

It seemed that even across thousands of lightyears, Drallig was able to sense Serra’s fear and anger when she’d been attacked, and then when they’d spoken the next day, he had gone to speak with the High Council about this and ask permission to leave to check on her. Yaddle had explained that the High Council had denied this request – due to the upcoming Initiate Trails – but Master Sifo-Dyas had suggested that with Fay and Dooku both not being present at the Temple, another Jedi Master of the Order could be sent to check up on me and Serra.

While Yaddle hadn’t explained further how she had been chosen, I suspected that she had been the being chosen as while she held some familiarity with me because of Master Fay, she was not known to be active friends with Fay, unlike Sifo-Dyas and Dooku. I was glad though that neither Windu nor any of his cadre had come as they would likely have demanded that we leave the planet and return to the Order.

After going over why she had been chosen to come here, we had gotten to the incident that Drallig had sensed and what had happened since. That conversation had been… all kinds of fun.

The initial conversation regarding that attack on me and the assault against Serra had been tiring. While Serra had been scared and nervous to talk about what had almost happened to her, I had spent the time trying to keep my growing anger under control. A downside of Eidetic Memory was that I remembered everything about the incident in full detail with all the attached emotions from it. I had avoided using Player’s Mind during that time as a form of training as I needed to relearn how to control my emotions, which was especially hard to do in a growing body.

Yaddle, who had made sure her Padawan was not present for any of our talks, had listened patiently to both our stories. When we finished going over that evening, she offered Serra her sympathies for what had happened and didn’t begrudge either of us reacting as we had. Though she did suggest I find a less violent method for releasing my negative emotions.

When we then moved on to the trial by combat, things became a lot more uncomfortable.

Initially, Yaddle had expressed her disappointment that our attackers had maintained their innocence and that the only way to determine the guilt or innocence of all involved was a trial by combat. She had stated that she understood that this was an option available to the local planetary government, however, she was disappointed that we had to resort to agreeing to solve this issue.

Serra had protested very emotionally that those boys had denied over and over assaulting her – she even brought up that by the time an Instructor had arrived, her top had been ripped by Morn – and that it was the only way we could make them admit their guilt. I had then offered the simple fact that it was our word against theirs, so there was little a court of law could have done to prove they intended to assault Serra.

Yaddle had reluctantly conceded that point, however, her ire was soon directed at me. It turned out that Duke Adonai had provided a recording for Yaddle to review and the revered Jedi Master was concerned about my behaviour and comments during the ijaat’akaanir.

Thankfully, I had expected to have to defend my actions – verbal and physical – to my masters and the Jedi High Council so I was ready to explain my behaviour.

After engaging Player’s Mind to lock down my emotions, I explained that I knew any trial by combat was going to be difficult and that the quicker and more efficiently I took out our opponents the greater our chance of success would be. I then explained that I had not said that I would enjoy the fight because it was true – a half-truth as I did still enjoy the fear I saw in their eyes after my opening barrage – but to unnerve our opponents and draw their attention to me. It was, I told her truthfully, an integral part of the fight, and a legitimate – if un-Jedi-like – strategy of psychological warfare. Since I was the best hand-to-hand fighter, I explained to Yaddle that I had planned with Bo and Serra to draw off their better fighters while the two girls worked together to deal with the rest. I offered the Jedi Master a wry smile as I stated that I didn’t expect it to work so well.

Serra had backed me up on the plan and stated that Bo had been clear in that the only way we stood a chance was if we improved the odds quickly. She had also stated that any punishment that Yaddle – or the High Council – wished to give to me she would also take as well. This was because, to her, the only reason I’d been forced to be so violent – her word – was because of her.

I’d moved to counter Serra’s comment there, but Yaddle had cut me off and silenced me by raising her hand. Yaddle had stopped the talk there so she could meditate on what we’d said and suggested that we do the same.

We returned to the topic this morning, where Yaddle had stated that, while she did not agree with us accepting a trial by combat – she refused to use the Mando’a word for it – she understood that she was not here, nor were any of our masters to offer advice and support.

She had made clear to me that, while she didn't approve, in a pure combat situation my actions and behaviour were understandable and that our plan for the trial was, barely, acceptable. However, she had also made clear that she was disappointed that we felt the only recourse to handling the situation was violence, and that she would be reporting this to our masters and the Council of First Knowledge.

I had been relieved when she’d said that Council and not the High Council would receive her report, though that relief quickly disappeared as she gave me a small smile and said that she expected that a few of her fellow High Council members would wish to speak with her about my actions. She had chuckled once as she said that I was invoking more debate in the council than the rest of the Order combined.

I wasn’t exactly surprised by that as my opinions on the High Council were clouded by what I’d seen of them in the movies and The Clone Wars. Throw in that their reactions to me since I’d been here – and the need to seemingly find fault in every situation I found myself in – combined with my Masters’ issues with the Council and the fact many in the Order felt I was the ‘‘Chosen One’’, and it was hardly a shock to discover I was a common topic of discussions.

I almost felt sorry for them with what I knew I needed to do to prepare for the wars to come. Almost.

With that said, Yaddle considered the matter handled, save for anything our masters wished to say or do once we were reunited with them.

At that point, I had asked about my masters and she had explained that, from what she knew, Master Fay was reconnecting with a few old friends from the Order who, like her, did not return to Coruscant regularly. Dooku, from what Sifo-Dyas had told Yaddle, was attempting to find clues to a pirate organization in the Mid and Inner Rim.

Yaddle had then stated that, with the permission of Duke Adonai and the local government, she and her Padawan would be staying on-planet until it was time for me and Serra to return to the Institute, and that she had convinced the Duke to allow us both to keep our lightsabers for the rest of the session.

“As I have already explained, and I’m sure Master Fay would also have told you, I had a standing invite to visit and train here from members of two powerful clans,” I said neutrally. “My masters and I simply felt that it was better to accept that invite now rather than delay it any longer so as not to anger said clans.”

“Yet inform anyone of where you were heading, you felt there was no reason to do,” Yaddle replied as we turned our attention back to the spar. “Concerned many are, that this world and sector was your destination.”

I chuckled as Serra leaned under Brand’s powerful slash and clipped his knee with her blade. “Because of which world it is? Or that my ancestor is linked with them?”

“Both. Ancient history, Revan may be. But his fall to the Dark Side, nor link to the past of the sector, many cannot ignore.”

“Tell me, Master Yaddle,” I questioned with a knowing look. “Are they simply concerned about any perceived lingering attachment to Revan I have which might have driven me to visit Mandalore? Or do they fear that I will follow my great-grandfather down the path to the Dark Side by allowing myself to be immersed in Mandalorian culture, or indeed dealing with the Mandalorians at all?”

“Think us wrong to have these concerns, do you?”

“I think the Council may be forgetting some important pieces of history, Master,” I informed her with a wry smile. “Revan did not fall to the Dark Side on Malachor V. It is true that he led a campaign against the Mandalorian Neo-Crusaders, and learned the hard way that war sometimes requires brutal and often immoral acts.”

“Oh, he did flirt with the Dark Side for most of the War, but from what I’ve learnt, he never surrendered to it. It wasn’t until he and Malak traced the chain of command for the Mandalorians back and stumbled upon Emperor Vitiate that Revan truly fell.”

During his time as a Dark Lord, he honestly had very little to do with the Mandalorians. It was only after his memory was wiped and he began the road to redemption that he started to rekindle his Mandalorian connections through Canderous Ordo, which laid the groundwork for the lasting respect and honour that his name continues to carry here; much to my annoyance at times.” I added as I finished explaining what I knew of Revan, and what Yaddle and the Jedi should also know if they studied the archives carefully.

“True though that may be, the High Council, and others, continue to be wary of you. Your actions and accomplishments since arriving have done little to dissuade them from that.” Yaddle responded. Though the words were reproachful, I sensed a flicker of amusement from her as well.

“As I’ve said to others before, Master Yaddle, I cannot control what others think or say about me. All I can control are my actions and learn to accept the consequences of whatever those actions bring.”

“Hmm. For one so young, wise words those are. Both your masters, I sense in them.” She paused for a moment. “Convincing Master Dooku, much effort I suspect it took to make this visit. His history with these people, is well known among the older members of the Order.”

I mimicked zipping my lips, which drew a chuckle from the aged Jedi.

“Yes, a wise choice, your decision is. Still, on this world, you and Padawan Keto are now training. Respect, you greatly, she does. Fond of you, she is becoming. That same fondness, is yet another source of concern for many. However, young she is, in time she will move past it.”

I resisted the urge to groan at someone else bringing this up. “As I have told many others, nothing is going on. We’re just friends. And we’ve spoken to each other about our… closeness, and how inappropriate it is. We know our boundaries.”

“Yet between you two, a bond I can sense. Capable of more than just feelings, I suspect it is.”

“The incident sparked Serra’s ability to speak with me via the Force,” I replied, seeing little point in hiding the shift in our bond from Yaddle. This would be mentioned in her report, so it was better to admit to and defend it rather than try and deny it and create more problems because of the bond. Plus, I sensed she was being honest in not seeing it as a major issue currently. Hopefully, that and her friendship with Fay would help dissuade her from making a big deal out of it in her report.

“It was a good thing she did, as otherwise, I would not have been able to speak with her in the days after.” I added as further proof that the bond was beneficial instead of being a problem for other members of the Order to concern themselves about.

“Indeed. Bonds between Jedi, common they are. Yet uncommon they are. Doubly so, when between two so young and with such potential. Yet no warning I sense, from the Force itself. However mindful you both must be, of the risks such bonds can carry. Mixed and clouded your emotions can become without proper control. Training, both of you shall need in understanding and achieving that control.”

“I believe both of us have had a taste of the challenges such a close connection can cause while our emotions are still developing. We would be grateful for your help, Master.” I said with an inclination of my head. While it could sound like I was just saying that to reassure her, I honestly felt she could help. Fay trusted her, which was a positive in my mind, and she seemed more open to the problems in the galaxy than many other members of the High Council.

“Hah!” Anything else that might be said was cut off by Brand calling out. My focus returned to the spar to see Brand standing over Serra, his blade close enough to Serra’s neck that I suspected she could feel the heat from it as it bathed her face in the blue light.

[How many?] I asked Serra mentally.

[Four.] She replied with a blast of frustration. [I almost had him, but he’s just too strong.]

[Well, he is bigger, older and has more experience. Getting to four strikes was really good.] I send back as Brand stepped back and all but sneered at her.

“I expected better from the Padawan of Master Drallig.” Serra’s anger flashed for an instant through the bond before she brought it back under control.

[Good girl. Don’t let him get to you. With time and practice, you’ll have him eating those words and the mat.]

Serra seemed to take my words to heart and as she depowered her twin blades, I sensed her hope that what I’d said would come to pass.

“Perhaps the Padawan of Master Dooku would be more of a challenge…” Brand suggested as he stalked towards me. As he puffed out his chest, I was barely able to choke back a chuckle at his basic attempt at intimidation.

While he was taller and broader than me – not a surprise as he was seven years older – his tactic to intimidate me into accepting his challenge was childish and lacking. Honestly, I didn’t think he was…

Quest Alert!

Pride Before the Fall [ɸ]

Empatojayos Brand has challenged you to a duel. Teach him the folly of this action.

Rating: C

Objectives:

:-: Win the duel.

:-: [?]

Rewards:

:-: 900XP

A small increase in Reputation with Serra Keto

A small increase in Reputation with Yaddle

Failure:

:-: -300XP

A decrease in Reputation with Serra Keto and Yaddle

Brand will boast about this until you can defeat him in a future spar.

Accept?

Yes/No

…

Well, that changed things.

I was going to just ignore him for now and then duel him later for the Training Superiority quest, but since the Interface had generated an instant challenge quest, what the hell.

“While I doubt that you’ll be much of a challenge, why not,” I replied dismissively as I took a step forward and to the side. “I can spare a few minutes,” I added as I passed.

I caught Serra’s eyes as she stood in the middle of the makeshift ring and smiled. [He needs someone to pop his head before it gets too big for the room.]

She snorted and lifted one hand to her mouth before she stepped away. [Well, if that isn't the Sith calling the Terentatek rabid.]

That made me chuckle as I turned to face Brand. His brow was wrinkled, and his eyes had narrowed as they darted from Serra to me. Even if he couldn’t tell what we’d said, he clearly suspected that he’d been the butt of a joke.

“So, you're the one who's been playing at being a Makashi instructor?” Brand questioned. “I can see why Keto was no challenge if children are learning from children. I know you're supposed to be some kind of reanimated fossil, but really, Makashi is outdated to the point of being laughably obsolete.”

I ignored his feeble attempts at goading and raised my blade in the first half of the Makashi salute. Brand, however, continued to speak.

“Of course, perhaps I shouldn't have gone as hard as I did. I hear that you two are still recovering from some injuries you got from the locals. What I wouldn't have given to see you two humbled by a bunch of non-Force-sensitives.”

I quirked an eyebrow and blinked. Brand stopped talking very abruptly. I tilted my head slightly as I considered him now. I could see him tense up and suspected his eyes had darted downward, but he didn't speak. That my lightsaber was resting so close to his neck and chin that I swore I smelt the hairs on his adolescent beard singeing likely factored largely into that decision. Serra told me after the duel ended that it looked like a clear, yet unintentional mirror image of the conclusion of her duel with Brand. The main difference was that the source of the blade was not in front of him, but rather behind him.

He raised his head fractionally, likely in at least a partial effort to put some more microns between his neck and my blade and I could tell that he was now looking towards Serra and Yaddle. Serra stared back at him, her blue eyes cold and hard, and her jaw lightly clenched. Yaddle, meanwhile, was looking towards the both of us with a small, concerned frown on her face.

“Padawan Brand,” I said from behind him, activating Player's Mind to temporarily dull my emotions and hopefully give my voice the dead, emotionless tone that was still a challenge for my pubescent vocal cords. As I did so, I saw Yaddle shift her attention fully to me and felt her concern grow slightly. “I would advise you to keep your thoughts and attention on the fight, and to not get cocky.” I was proud that I'd managed to speak with a flat monotone, save for the inflexion I purposefully added to the final three words.

Ok, maybe I was being a bit theatrical, but then again, that was the entire point here.

“Padawan Shan,” Yaddle called, the barest hint of a warning in her tone.

“Oh, my apologies, Master,” I said pleasantly as I instantly deactivated both Player's Mind and my lightsaber and Force teleported back to my side of the ring, adopting a cheerful mien. “I forgot this spar is blades only, my mistake.”

I turned again to face Brand, watching as he fought to keep his reactions in check. I felt a burst of satisfaction as a hand rose partially, more than likely bound for his neck, only to stop as it passed his stomach, and his eyes were still dilated in fear.

Good. I'd made my point and hopefully focused his attention on me and away from Serra for the time being. The last thing she needed was somebody attempting to weaponize her trauma.

“Well come on,” I began as I reignited my lightsaber, and completed the Makashi salute. “I said I had a few minutes to spare, not an hour while your brain tries to process what just happened.”

Brand’s eyes narrowed further at the direct insult and he stalked towards me. I smirked at his reaction as it was exactly what I’d hoped for. Far too many Jedi were unable to handle insults and comments designed to rattle them, and after several years with Dooku, I now tended to use Dun Möch just before duels and spars as a way to hopefully unbalance my opponent. While it didn’t always work – and I never bothered even attempting it with Dooku – I felt it was useful practice for when I had to fight for real.

Brand’s lightsaber ignited and he lifted it high over his head and angled it towards his back as he approached which made my smirk grow. That was a standard attack stance for Djem So, and one Dooku had taught me how to counter not long after becoming his Padawan.

As Brand brought his blade crashing down in a textbook falling avalanche, I simply slid one foot back and struck my free hand against his forearm. That shifted his momentum away from me and with an almost lazy riposte, I clipped my lightsaber against his upper arm. Instead of taking advantage of his exposed side – this was a basic spar and I wanted to take him down with words as well as strikes – I slid backwards.

As I moved back and let my lightsaber hang lazily at my side, and he righted himself, I tutted. “Really? Attacking without acknowledging? How rude.” His nostrils flared and I sent him the Makashi salute once more. “I expected better from a Padawan of a High Council member.”

Even as he snarled and began to charge at me, I caught sight of Yaddle shaking her head even as she smiled.

I dodged a two-handed slash by simply shifting my feet and then clipped his shin as his momentum took him passed me. Though to help him on his way, I gave him a small heel kick to the back of one of his legs.

As I turned, and he stumbled away from I chuckled. “That’s three-zero I believe?” I stated.

With a loud growl, he turned and charged at me again. I sighed at his behaviour.

If he wanted this over quickly, who was I to deny him?

… …

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

… …