Ends and Beginnings, Attn: Shay

Nereus adjusted his robes for the hundredth time, trying to quell the nervousness that had settled in his guts. It really was quite sadistic of the Council to send him a message telling him he had been assigned a new Master without actually telling him who they’d assigned him. It was tradition, they said… The Kiffar was willing to bet they were quietly giggling in a corner, thinking about it – except for Master Stone, of course, he was above such things as having a sense of humour. Scratching the ears of Mirdala - who, sensing her owner’s mood, had declined to use him as her plaything as she usually did – he tried once more to force himself to serenity. The Kabaira snow-wolf whined softly and rubbed her head against his leg, prompting Nereus to send a mental wave of soft affection to soothe her.

It never ceased to amaze him how in phase with Mirdala he’d become in the short time she’d lived with him. He’d come to “own” her – whatever people said, it really was more the contrary – on one of the last mission he’d been on with Master Veradis, two years ago. They’d been sent on Onderon to negotiate a cease-fire between an association of smugglers and the local authorities before innocents got caught in the crossfire. The smugglers had been understandably paranoid and the meeting between the two parties had been held in a gambling den full of unsavoury characters. Nereus had seen an obviously mistreated and unfed wolf pup as the prize on one of the sabacc tables and his empathy had gotten the better out of him once more when he felt her misery, leading him to join the table. As he was rubbish at the game, it was a good thing that he had not been wearing the traditional Jedi garb: he’d won through rather liberal use of Force Sight and flashes of precognition.

Cheating wasn’t very Jedi-esque, but his Master had been too amused to reprimand him when he’d learned of it. Nereus named her Mirdala, a word meaning tricky in Mandalorian, as an ironic tribute to his toeing of the line set by the Code. The wolf and the padawan had become inseparable ever since, their bond deepening even more after Master Veradis’s death – she had been one of his few comforts in his darker days.He was aware that his attachment to Mirdala was a failing according to some of the more orthodox members, but it was a part of him he refused to change. Attachment itself was not the fault, he’d been taught, it was the feeling of possession that led to the Dark Side.

He could not help but be apprehensive at the idea of having a new mentor: would he be assigned a more conservative Knight in order to be “straightened out”? The following years were going to be rather tedious if it was the case – he was by all means a pleasantly disposed individual, but standing by his principles had been bred and ingrained in him throughout his life - whoever tried to change his ways was in for a rude awakening. The Kiffar eventually dismissed the thought, musing that he would probably get a newly minted Knight or Master that needed the experience. He was rather close to the Trials, after all, and he’d held a reputation as a prodigy since his early childhood. Finally succeeding to relax, he comfortably waited for his new Master in the fluffy chairs of the conference room, petting Mirdala absently.

While Shay tended towards the unconventional in her behavior, she believed there were certain traditions worth upholding. Messing with your new apprentice's head was one of them. It wasn't as though Master Marin possessed a sadistic streak or took pleasure for another's confusion. However, the Dolomarian Jedi was a firm believer in the theory that one learned the most about a person from their behavior when they were knocked off-balance. Nereus had Gandon Vir to thank (or blame) for the behavior of his new mentor.

For this reason, Shay allowed her new student to sit and stew in the waiting room several minutes past the appointed time for them to meet. She'd made sure the message young Padawan Sark had received did not identify his new Master, just to make him wonder all the more. The Sentinel was quite accustomed to using the tactic of the waiting game to 'soften up' the subjects of her investigation. Not that she was intending to actually interrogate the Kiffar, but the principle was much the same as far as inspiring honest reactions went.

As the Jedi Master navigated through the underground complex of the Redoubt, her busy mind went over the details of her soon-to-be-apprentice's file. While she'd only met the late Master Veradis in passing a handful of times, she was more than familiar with his unorthodox points of view regarding the Order and the Force. Gandon had been friends with the eccentric Twi'lek, as the two Masters had shared much in common when it came to ideology. It was her hope that this similarity in philosophy would help her in picking up where Veradis had left off.

That said, Shay was not under any illusions that the task before her would be an easy one. It was difficult enough to properly shape and tutor a child, to say nothing of instructing someone who had already entered adulthood. Add to that the fact that Nereus Sark would be Shay's first Padawan... well, that made the prospect all the more daunting. Still, Master Marin did not permit these concerns to develop into true doubts. Her own sense of calm and confidence were needed to reinforce her student's faith, and so it was her duty not to falter for Nereus' sake.

Upon reaching the door to the waiting room, the blonde woman proceeded to open it without so much as a warning knock. As usual, Shay had eschewed wearing the outer layers of the traditional Jedi robes, leaving her instead in her tunic, trousers, tabard, and obi alone, all in different shades of blue. The matte black cylinders of her lightsaber hilts stood out in stark contrast against the cerulean fabric, symbolic of the contrasts which existed within the Investigator herself.

"Oh good, you're still here," she commented casually while her amber eyes took in a thorough survey of Sark's appearance. Her empathic senses performed an equally intense examination of the Kiffar's aura. He's calmer than I expected. Score one point for him. "We were worried you might have left already. Your new Master's running a little late; she sends her apologies."

Acting as though there was nothing out of the ordinary going on, Shay shut the door behind her and settled herself down on one of the overstuffed chairs in the sitting area. "I hope you don't mind if I keep you company while you wait." The Dolomarian directed one of her winning smiles the young man's way. "The Council would hate for you to think we'd forgotten about you down here."

Leaning forward, the Councilwoman extended her hand towards Nereus. "I'm not sure if we've actually met before. I'm Master Shay Marin." She knew it was more than likely the Padawan knew her by reputation, if not by appearance, so she wasn't about to offer a fuller explanation of her identity. "But you can just call me Shay, I'm not a big one for formality. So who's your friend?" she inquired, nodding towards the snow-wolf curled at the Kiffar's feet.

The door opened without so much as a warning, and it took every inch of his self-control not to jump – thank the Force for those diplomacy lessons Master Veradis had beaten into his head until they’d become a subconscious reflex. The Kiffar looked up to see handsome features and blonde hair that belonged to Master Shay Marin. The only outwards sign of his surprise was a slight widening of his eyes, but there was a sharp feeling of it in his presence. While he didn’t know Shae'andri'lar Marin, he certainly knew of her: very few people in the Order didn’t, especially since her ascension to the Council. Many Jedi considered the most gifted Sentinel to grace the halls of the Temple in a long time, and while most of her mission records were kept secret, the sheer number of them spoke by itself. Master Marin was dressed in shades of blue, her black lightsaber standing out like a sore thumb, bleak reminder that the Jedi sometimes had to deal death to preserve life.

Nereus himself had adorned the greyish robes his late Master had also worn – Master Veradis had done so more as a jibe to those who called him a Grey Jedi than out of a sense of fashion. He had taken a liking to them and kept the tradition going: if he ever had a padawan himself he would try to instil the same feeling.

"Oh good, you're still here,"

The Kiffar threw her a slightly amused look. He couldn’t exactly walk out of here, even if his future Master was late for the appointment. The padawan grinned ruefully as he answered.

“This isn’t exactly the kind of meeting I can miss.”

He felt a mind brush up gently as the limit of his, the caress fleeting and almost impossible to sense. His shielding was good, very good even, for someone of his age but the simple fact that he almost hadn’t felt the woman’s empathic probe showed him he still had a lot to learn. He prided himself in using the subtler aspects of the Force, but compared to Master Marin’s his own probes were like a hammer to her needle.

"We were worried you might have left already. Your new Master's running a little late; she sends her apologies."

So Marin wasn’t his new teacher, the Kiffar mused as he cocked his head to the side, a habit he’d unknowingly picked up form Geram Veradis and made him look like a man twice his age. It was strange that a member of the Council would be sent to inform him of this particular development, when a Knight or even just another padawan would have been sufficient. Perhaps his new mentor was a friend of hers? The woman closed the door behind her and claimed one of the chairs, earning a raised eyebrow from the Kiffar who had fully expected her to leave after transmitting her message.

“I hope you don't mind if I keep you company while you wait. The Council would hate for you to think we'd forgotten about you down here."

“Company is always welcome,”, he answered cheerfully. Nereus was a social person by nature, and he rather preferred the prospect of speaking with Master Marin fro a few minutes to that of waiting and wondering about his teacher for the same amount of time. Though he really hoped she hadn’t picked the amused incredulity that had welled up in him when she’d spoken about the Council - the image of Master Stone sitting in his chair laughing maniacally while saying “Dance, my puppets, dance!” had been removed from his mind as soon as it had appeared: now was not the time for the most… original parts of his sense of humour to surface.

"I'm not sure if we've actually met before. I'm Master Shay Marin. But you can just call me Shay, I'm not a big one for formality."

“I’m afraid I’ve never had the pleasure – I’m Nereus Sark, put you probably already knew that.”

She offered him her hand at the same time and the Kiffar shook it gladly, noticing from the corner of his eye that Mirdala had lifter her head from his feet and was now wandering towards the Master curiously, prompting the Dolomarian to continue speaking.

“So who's your friend?"

“That spoiled little princess is named Mirdala,” he answered while grinning at the outraged look the snow-wolf. She didn’t understand what he said, but knew from the tone he was making fun of her – he was probably going to be rewarded by being woken up a few hours early by licks on his face. “She’s quite gentle but I’d beware of her sense of humour if I were you.”

The spike of startlement that pulsed from the Kiffar was gratifying; it was exactly the sort of response she'd been looking to provoke. She didn't want to meet the young man under predictable circumstances. The galaxy rarely allowed you the luxury of preparation, after all. Now let's see how long I can distract him and keep him from putting all the pieces together. Like many of Shay's more seemingly strange behaviors, this little scenario she'd set up was a test, not only of the quality of Sark's character but her own.

"This isn’t exactly the kind of meeting I can miss."

Shay acknowledged the accuracy of Nereus' statement with a rueful smile. "Oh, I don't know, you could've gotten fed up with us putting you off this long and walked out." It wasn't merely today's wait she was speaking of, but all the long months young Padawan Sark had been without a Master. A sheer travesty to be certain; none of the Order's own should have had to linger so long without a mentor. This was one of the many kinds of issues Shay was only now becoming fully aware of, as she adapted more and more to her new role as one of the leaders of the Jedi.

"Company is always welcome."

I don't know what the kid was thinking of just then, but it must've been hilarious. Not wanting to embarrass Nereus on their first day together--well, at least not yet--Master Marin elected to not question the Kiffar about whatever had been running through his brain. Sure, Padawans weren't supposed to hide anything from their Masters, but if she got nosy too early on the jig would be up, so to speak. No... better to extend the evaluation period some before she delved down to Gandon-style levels of privacy intrusion.

"I’m afraid I’ve never had the pleasure – I’m Nereus Sark, but you probably already knew that."

A quiet chuckle escaped the Dolomarian as she returned the Padawan's firm handshake in kind. "That I did. I was there when your new Master asked for permission to train you." Sometimes the truth was the best kind of lie. Half the job of being a good con artist was letting others read things into your words that weren't actually there, letting their own misconceptions do the work for you. Mental note: share a particular Old Corellian saying regarding assumptions with him later.

"As curiosity is one of my greatest weaknesses, I couldn't help but take the opportunity to look over your file." The blonde fixed the dark-haired young man with a significant look, letting that statement fall wherever it may. Shay wanted to see the sort of connotations Nereus would draw from her words. Step by step she was working to outline the structure of the Kiffar's thought processes. This was one of the traits which had made her such a capable Investigator, and Shay could only hope it would serve her just as well in her new role as teacher.

"That spoiled little princess is named Mirdala. She’s quite gentle but I’d beware of her sense of humour if I were you."

Master Marin's smile turned decidedly wicked, amusement setting off golden lights in her warm amber eyes. "I'm sure mine's worse. Remind me to tell you sometime about how I painted a fellow Jedi's Aurek sparkly pink." Disengaging her grip from Sark's, Shay extended her open palm towards the snow-wolf. Her time spent around Mac's vornskrs had taught her something about how to go about letting canines properly greet you.

As expected, Mirdala padded forward and began daintily snuffling the Jedi Master's hand, before pressing her wet nose against the woman's fingers in a silent request for petting. More than familiar with that sort of shameless behavior from Sam, Shay couldn't help but laugh at seeing it in another's pet. "It's nice to meet you too, Mirdala," she quipped, giving the soft white fur behind the snow-wolf's ears a good scritching. "I'm still getting used to pets, I've only had my puppy for a few weeks now."

Without further ado, the Councilwoman rose to her feet again, beckoning Nereus towards her. "C'mon, I need your help with something." With an effort of will Shay repressed her deep sense of amusement at what she was putting her newly minted Padawan through, maintaining her nonchalant outward demeanor as she strode back towards the door. "Don't worry, Mirdala can come too," she tossed over her shoulder with another grin before disappearing out into the hall.

"Oh, I don't know, you could've gotten fed up with us putting you off this long and walked out."

An interested glint appeared in the Kiffar’s eyes as he recognized that there was a broader meaning to Shay’s statement. Mind games and double-speak, huh? He was starting to see why so many people liked the woman.

“I prefer to think of it as a lesson of patience.” Nereus answered mildly, meeting the Master’s eyes to acknowledge the unspoken part of the conversation.

The padawan had been schooled to the intricacies of diplomacy as part of his training and if Master Marin wanted to play this way, it was more than fine by him. He’d always loved sparring with the subtleties of the language, it was one of the reasons he had been studying other dialect, as a matter of fact. He was a firm believer that Basic in itself shaped the way people thought and that their choice of words revealed a lot about them. Master Marin most likely was referring to the long months where he’d been without guidance, so he’d chosen his response carefully. While it was true that for a while he’d been resentful of the lack of mentorship, he’d never taken it personally – there were too many things going on right now for his case to be a priority. While he wasn’t privy to the information Masters were, Nereus was a clever man and had been quick enough to piece things together from the way some of the older Jedi were getting restless. Events were going on that dwarfed his own tribulations.

"That I did. I was there when your new Master asked for permission to train you."

The Kiffar’s eyes sharpened considerably at that statement as he searched the Master’s face, not quite sure what he was looking for. Such a vague sentence, one that could easily be interpreted many ways: all his diplomatic instincts were shouting at him that there was more to this that first appeared. He diverted the subject easily but kept his attention rapt.

“Requested? I’d have thought it would be an assignment spanned from our losses at Korriban.”

He was somewhat curious at who could have requested to train him of all people – perhaps her own Master, Gandon? Nereus knew they’d been friends and that their views were similar on many subjects. He dismissed the thought immediately – Marin had said the “she” sent her apologies for being late. His new teacher was to be female, then.


"As curiosity is one of my greatest weaknesses, I couldn't help but take the opportunity to look over your file."

An open sentence again, she was trying to probe him. He barely repressed a grin – this was getting extremely enjoyable – but his lips still quirked.

“Did you now? You must be close friends with my Master, to be so curious about me.”

After all, if she was trying to get information out of him, doing the same out of her was fair game. He was studying her intently as he spoke – he was more likely to get something out of her facial expression than her words.

"I'm sure mine's worse. Remind me to tell you sometime about how I painted a fellow Jedi's Aurek sparkly pink."

Nereus let out a laugh at that, the sound resounding merrily in the spacious room. He’d often been told that his laugh was a display of emotion unfit for a Jedi, as he held nothing back in it. He wasn’t afraid to show when he was amused and to hold back such emotions was an error from his point of view. With laughter still in his eyes, he watched Mirdala walk up to Shay and inspect her. Finding her worthy, the snow-wolf claimed its tribute of scratches and petting with a satisfied soft groan.

"It's nice… I've only had my puppy for a few weeks now."

Nereus looked at Mirdala, his eyes softening in affection as she walked back to him an setlled back at his feet.

“She’s been with me for two years, I … acquired her on one of the last missions I took with Master Veradis.”

He decided not to delve into exactly how that had happened, even if she might have come across it in his file. Cheating at Sabacc wasn’t very Jedi-like, even if he’d been led into it by his empathy – not to mention that he doubted a Council member would approve that kind of a behaviour. He was interrupted when Shay suddenly got up and decided to leave, shooting him a grin before she got out.

“C'mon, I need your help with something. Don't worry, Mirdala can come too."

Getting up and dislodging the snow-wolf from his feet in the process – she gave him a betrayed look that amused him to no end – he quickly cached up to the Councilwoman who was walking through the corridors in a purposeful stride.

“Just so you know, I’m blaming you if I miss my Master – if she actually shows up, that is,”, he informed her in a wry tone.

“I prefer to think of it as a lesson of patience.”

Shay was pleased to note Nereus had caught the underlying meaning to her words. This display of insight on the Kiffar's part was a trait she intended to strongly encourage in her new Padawan. Too many people in this galaxy--including a number of the Order's own--never looked beyond the surface of things, whether they be words or their fellow sentient beings. In contrast, Shay could not stop delving into the hidden nature of everything she came across, endlessly analyzing and contemplating the meanings of whatever she encountered. Over two decades of service as an Investigator had left its indelible mark upon the Jedi Master's thought patterns.

“Requested? I’d have thought it would be an assignment spanned from our losses at Korriban.”

Is that how you view yourself, kid? An obligation forced upon another from necessity alone? The Dolomarian knew she'd have to nip that sort of attitude in the bud right up front. The last thing she wanted was for such an idea to sow seeds of insecurity in the soul. "The casualties we suffered on Korriban did play a large part in why she chose to finally take on a Padawan, this is true." A shadow flickered briefly across her countenance, amber eyes darkening to a more somber brown shade as they fixed on a distant point beyond the walls of the room. While she knew she was not to blame for the existence of the Cult or some other such nonsense, Shay could not fully avoid a sense of responsibility for the Order's losses. She felt its weight hung over her heart like a burial shroud whenever she recalled the names and faces of the Jedi dead. "None of us have the luxury to put off that duty any longer."

As quickly as it had come, the solemn note in her aura evaporated, another smile springing to Shay's lips as she refocused her attention on Nereus. "That said, she specifically picked you out of the many available Padawans. The Council wouldn't arbitrarily 'assign' an apprentice to anyone, don't worry. We'd practically be begging for trouble then." Indeed, this was one of those traditions Shay felt were worth keeping, even in the face of modern times. No Jedi should ever be forced to take on a student who they did not select. Compatibility between Master and Padawan was essential, since a clash of personalities could result in all manner of terrible consequences, including the loss of one or both of the pair to the Dark Side.

"Did you now? You must be close friends with my Master, to be so curious about me."

"Very close," Master Marin confirmed the Kiffar's speculations, amusement once again sparking warm in her eyes. Well played, Padawan. Nereus had not only correctly determined the intentions behind her statement, but he'd also then proceeded to deflect the vector of the conversation back towards the senior Jedi. "Though to be honest I'm curious about almost everything to some degree. Which has gotten me in trouble far more often than a Jedi Master should probably admit," she quipped in a mock rueful tone. Playful banter aside, Shay was not at all ashamed of this particular personality trait, nor did she feel any hesitation in admitting to its existence.

"She’s been with me for two years, I … acquired her on one of the last missions I took with Master Veradis."

"I see," the blonde woman ventured in a noncommittal tone. Unbeknownst to Nereus, the late Master Veradis had quite gleefully reported the details of that specific event to the Council. Not only was there a description of Padawan Sark's card sharp tendencies in his file, but the Twi'lek had made a point of recording down how commendable he found his student's empathy to be. The more conservative elements on the Council at the time had pooh-poohed this perceived 'slip' on the Kiffar's part, which was also noted in the file. As far as Shay's point of view on this went, she considered the story to be nothing short of hilarious.

"Just so you know, I’m blaming you if I miss my Master – if she actually shows up, that is."

Now it was the Dolomarian's laughter which rang out, drawing some startled looks at the pair from further down the corridor. Such a sound was not the usual anywhere the Jedi called home, but Shay saw no harm in expressing mirth. It's not as though one could fall from laughing too much! Besides, from what she'd observed about the universe during her undercover work, the Force itself had a sense of humor. "And you'd be right to do so, Nereus. Don't worry, I promise you won't miss her." Shay had no worries about giving her word to her Padawan, since she'd already kept it.

At the next intersection Master Marin hooked a right, steering them towards the hangar the Lucidity was currently berthed in. "See, my ship's inertial dampeners have slipped out of alignment. Not enough to cause any real damage to the old girl, but enough to make for something of a bumpy ride. I need to fix them, but I've got this extremely energetic and very affectionate vornskr on board who won't leave me be long enough to put things to rights. Since you obviously know something about taking care of canines yourself, I figured you wouldn't mind looking after Kai while I worked?"

“The casualties we suffered on Korriban did play a large part in why she chose to finally take on a Padawan, this is true. None of us have the luxury to put off that duty any longer."
The Dolomarian’s eyes darkened slightly while saying those words, fascinating the Kiffar for a second. It was rare to see any of the older Jedi showing a display of barely restrained emotion like Shay just had and the flicker of what looked like sadness, regret and oddly enough guilt was a hint of insight in the Master’s personality he was sure very few people had witnessed. Had the assault on the dead planet been that unsettling? Nereus had yet to kill anyone with his own hands, but he’d been acquainted with murder intimately since he could walk. Death had been a harsh but inevitable reality on Tatooine, and by the age of four he’d witnessed more blood being spilt than people ten times his age. He had very little illusions left about how things really were in the galaxy, a fact that sometimes put him at odds with the other padawans: very few had been exposed to the situations he had.

The people coming from the battle were extremely tight-lipped about the subject and his little foray in the Archives with Callan and Seras had only revealed so much, so the Battle of Korriban was merely whispers and speculations in his mind. Rumours were going wild amongst the padawans - some fool had even said the Masters had made prisoners amongst the Cultists – but no one seemed to have actual facts.

“Was it really that bad?”, the Kiffar asked quietly, “I know a lot of us did not come back, but I didn’t think the situation was that dire. And it’s not like it will end with one battle – the Dark Side hides in the shadows like no one else, history as taught the Order that much.”

The crimson blade was coming towards his neck but he could not, would not stop going forward: he was Jedi, and he would die before giving a single inch to the Sith – He screamed as the lightning arced on his skin and burned his skin, the eyes of the man in dark glittering in triumph – The vibroblade cleaved through his spine, coming out of his stomach with a disgusting wet sound as a voice whispered softly in his ear “Game over, little Jedi…”

Nereus slammed his mental shields down almost violently, dissipating the memories that weren’t his own like fine mist in the morning. He hated when the images took control: he wasn’t quite himself when that happened – he was someone who had died a hundred times and been betrayed twice as many. He’d fought for greed and pride, for love and honour – he’d witnessed the rise and fall of empires and grasped the futility of trying to rule over others. He followed the Force, because nothing else quite made sense when faced with the eternity that paid no heed to the flickers of light that were every being’s existence.
Clearing his thoughts he became Nereus Sark again, the eighteen year old Kiffar with a strange sense of humour that took more care of hair than any man was supposed to. That was the problem with his psychometry – it was as strong as it was uncontrollable, and every time he as much as caressed an object sufficiently old he could glimpse lifetimes in a few seconds. If he wasn’t careful, he would be trapped in them. He sent an apologetic look to Shay, perfectly aware that someone with her level of empathy couldn’t have helped but be drawn into the flashes- particularly if she was still probing him.

"That said, she specifically picked you out of the many available Padawans. The Council wouldn't arbitrarily 'assign' an apprentice to anyone, don't worry. We'd practically be begging for trouble then."

“Then I am… flattered, I suppose. Can I ask what prompted such a choice? To be honest, I expected to be paired with either a more orthodox element of the Order- and your friend certainly doesn’t sound like on so far – or a freshly minted Knight that needed the experience.”

"Very close. Though to be honest I'm curious about almost everything to some degree. Which has gotten me in trouble far more often than a Jedi Master should probably admit,"

Hm, again with a short answer and a redirection of the subject - there was definitely something off about this. Going through all the information about he knew about Master Marin, he realized with some amusement that it really wasn’t much. It was a tribute to the woman’s skill as an Investigator that while almost everyone in the Order knew of her, not much was known about her. She had a sibling-like relationship with Knight Odakota, that much was public knowledge, but he was male. So was Master Vir, her own teacher, and Master Rumare, the Councilman she was supposed to have a friendly relation with. Then again, everyone liked Titch – he was cool like that. His mind abandoning that avenue of thought and returning to the conversation, he elected to offer some information about himself as she had done.

“I tend to keep talking when I should shut up,” Nereus admitted wryly, “Especially around Master Stone – though I suppose that’s something I inherited from Master Veradis.”

"I see,"

The noncommittal response – which was, in the Kiffar’s experience, a polite way to express disapproval – made him straighten his back instinctively, in a pose that wasn’t quite defiance but meant he certainly wasn’t to bow down at a reproach. Clearly, the card incident had made it to his record.

“I couldn’t simply let her starve in a cage,” he answered a bit defensively. “It might have been an error according to certain interpretations of the Code, but I refuse to let a being suffer for a question of philosophical nuances.”

While Nereus was normally a bit more reserved in his interactions, the memory flashes had taken a bite out of his composure for the moment. If the Master disapproved, then so be it – he was who he was, and until he was proved wrong he would continue to act as he’d been taught.

“And you'd be right to do so, Nereus. Don't worry, I promise you won't miss her."

Now that got his attention. Giving her a sharp look – especially since he’d sensed nothing but pure truth in her words – he sped through the possible implications of the sentence. While he was far from a connection in the Force where he could tell the nuances in the truth of a Sentinel of Master Marin’s level, he was good enough to be told when outright lied to. Did she know precisely when his new teacher would arrive, or was he seeing too much in this? No, everything she’d said so far had a second meaning. He sent her a look of amused irritation – she was enjoying messing with his mind, wasn’t she?

“See, my ship's inertial dampeners have slipped out of alignment. Not enough to cause any real damage to the old girl, but enough to make for something of a bumpy ride. I need to fix them, but I've got this extremely energetic and very affectionate vornskr on board who won't leave me be long enough to put things to rights. Since you obviously know something about taking care of canines yourself, I figured you wouldn't mind looking after Kai while I worked?"

The Kiffar’s golden eyes widened slightly as he finally pieced up the hints he’d been given since the beginning. Your new Master's running a little late; she sends her apologies. I was there when your new Master asked for permission to train you. Don't worry, I promise you won't miss her. Of course he wouldn’t miss her: she was already there.

“I’m sure I can figure something out, Master,” he answered with a smile that was a mix of triumph, amusement and surprise.

"Was it really that bad?"

Nice work sister... first day on the 'job' as his mentor and already you're scaring him. While she regretted inspiring such concern in her student, in a way it was also something she could commend him for. The Jedi needed to be concerned about the threat the Cult of Sadow represented to the galaxy. Their stronghold may have been reduced to rubble and their membership decimated as a result of the joint Jedi/Alliance/Mandalorian assault, but Shay was not so foolish as to think the danger had passed.

"Actually it was a rather 'clean' operation, by the standards of modern warfare," the Dolomarian responded wryly. "We accomplished our objectives while holding our casualties to a minimum. Nor did our allies--reluctant or otherwise--sustain any major losses themselves." Canting her head slightly to one side, Shay drew up one corner of her mouth in a ruefully lopsided smile. "Still... this was the first time the Order had participated in a full scale battle in almost three hundred years. There was no way for any of us to truly comprehend what the experience would be like, or how it would affect us. Not even me, and I've had to deal death far more often than most Jedi."

Master Marin didn't want to load her own personal burdens on her new Padawan. Then again, honesty and full disclosure were an essential part of the Master-Padawan relationship, and she'd be a hypocrite to expect something from Nereus she wasn't willing to give herself. "Leading the Order into battle, knowing it was inevitable that many of my fellows would meet their end on the barren surface of Korriban... that particular duty was one I did not enjoy carrying out. And I never will."

"...Game over, little Jedi…"

Shay hadn't meant to 'eavesdrop' on the Kiffar's thoughts, she really hadn't. Respecting another's mental privacy was paramount from the Jedi's ethical perspective. However, when the young man fell into an unexpected and vivid flashback, the images and emotions he relived were 'broadcast' so strongly that someone of her psychic sensitivity could not help but pick them up. Now it was her turn to feel concern. She'd read about Padawan Sark's amazing psychometric potential, but nowhere in his file had it indicated the sort of suffering he must endure at not being able to turn the ability off.

When the storm had passed and Nereus was back to himself again, his chagrin was just as clearly perceived by her. Offering him a reassuring smile, Shay's hand lifted briefly to the Kiffar's shoulder, squeezing it gently in a wordless demonstration of support. Surely the younger Jedi would find the physical contact surprising, if not outright strange. However, the Dolomarian had never restrained herself overmuch from making such gestures to those she found important in her life. Since she'd become involved with her 'man-friend', as Lysander called him, this quirk of hers had only grown more apparent.

"Then I am… flattered, I suppose. Can I ask what prompted such a choice? To be honest, I expected to be paired with either a more orthodox element of the Order- and your friend certainly doesn’t sound like on so far – or a freshly minted Knight that needed the experience."

"I think we both know how ineffective an orthodox Jedi would be at instructing you," Shay returned, that wry smirk of hers settling back on her mouth. "Master Veradis was able to thoroughly 'corrupt' you before he became one with the Force." Obviously she didn't actually disapprove of how the old Twi'lek had shaped his apprentice. The two of them were part of a reformatory minority of Jedi, after all. If she wasn't going to support her fellow 'eccentric', who would?

"Expecting you to fit a completely different mold after this long would be wrong of the Council. No matter how much Old Stoneface might wish otherwise!" Wonder if he's ever heard that particular nickname for Nathaniel before. I remember it being common scuttlebutt around the Temple when I was his age, but who knows what the kids call things these days?

"I couldn’t simply let her starve in a cage. It might have been an error according to certain interpretations of the Code, but I refuse to let a being suffer for a question of philosophical nuances."

He's so cute when he's on the defensive, was the flippant thought which crossed the Jedi Master's mind. Shay hastened to cut off the flow of justification with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Relax, kid. I'm about the last Jedi Master who'd criticize you for what you did. Frack, I was using the Force to cheat at cards while you were still in diapers!" she confessed in a mock smug tone, an exaggeration of behavior for amusement's sake. And that's one of the tamest tricks I've pulled with it. No need to explain that to him now; he'd learn by observing soon enough. "The story did give me a good laugh though; your late Master had quite a flair with words."

"I’m sure I can figure something out, Master."

Again a merry grin pulled on the Dolomarian's handsome features. If anything, she was proud of the Kiffar for untangling the threads of misleading truths she'd offered him so quickly. "Well done, Padawan," she congratulated in a voice that was equal parts satisfied and teasing. "I was wondering when you'd figure me out. Consider that your first test. I'm big on testing people in general; it's a side effect of living the life I have these past two decades. I see no reason to change that just because I'm teaching an apprentice for the first time." Cocking her head towards the Kiffar, Shay shot Nereus a mock challenging look. "Think you can handle it?"

"Actually it was a rather 'clean' operation, by the standards of modern warfare. We accomplished our objectives while holding our casualties to a minimum. Nor did our allies--reluctant or otherwise--sustain any major losses themselves."

The Kiffar caught her wry smile and Master Marin rose a little more in his esteem. Even a ‘clean’ operation was dismally brutal by Jedi standards. The last decades of neutrality had softened the tolerance to death that the Order once possessed – for so many Jedi to be killed as one would bring almost physical pain to some of them. He really hoped Seras wasn’t taking this too hard, his Miraluka friend had a hate of violence that made his look positively tame in comparison.

"Still... this was the first time the Order had participated in a full scale battle in almost … often than most Jedi."

He’d always know that some Sentinels did what could be referred too as the “dirty work” of the Jedi, but nothing in his myriad of memories could truly help him understand Master Marin’s relationship with death. Perhaps he could drudge up a piece of insight or two by riffling in the memories in a meditation session, but even that felt inadequate. Smiling sadly that anybody had to kill others, even for the sake of the galaxy, Nereus continued to pay attention. Some part of him, however, wondered about what he would see if he ever touched the Councilwoman’s lightsaber…

"Leading the Order into battle ... that particular duty was one I did not enjoy carrying out. And I never will."

If he hadn’t already deduced the identity of his Master, that particular affirmation would have solved the charade: Masters of Shay Marin’s calibre did not confide in padawans after a few minute’s conversation. Before he could rack his brain for an appropriate answer, the ever-inconvenient flash of memories seized his mind for the space of a second. As far as these things went, it was one of the better seizures – it hadn’t lasted more than a second, even if the memories were bloody. When he’d been younger, just after assimilating the memories, he’d sometimes been out of it for half an hour. Master Veradis could get him out of it quickly enough when he was there, but there was no predicting these and he couldn’t be there every time. He looked up to Shay with a cynical spark in his eye and a disabused smile.

“I was foolish enough to forget to put my gloves when I was eight years old. In retrospective, the Archives probably weren’t the best place to go in this particular case.”

He’d been in coma for several days after that, and he’d had the experience of several Jedi Masters in some corner of his head ever since. Throughout the years he’d added several other perspectives to his repertoire, either voluntarily or not. The reassuring squeeze he was given took him by surprise, but he didn’t mind it at all. He’d always been a very physical person, and his love of socializing had made the trait even more prevalent.

"I think we both know how ineffective an orthodox Jedi would be at instructing you. Master Veradis was able to thoroughly 'corrupt' you before he became one with the Force.”

“I think it’s a good thing - I was quite the broody little thunder cloud when he took me in.”

Most people that knew the Kiffar would have thought the very idea of him being broody laughable, as he was one of the most cheerful people to live in the Redoubt. Their surprise never failed to get a smile out of him – he’d been very withdrawn and sullen as a child, before Master Venalis broke through his shell.

“Expecting you to fit a completely different mold after this long would be wrong of the Council. No matter how much Old Stoneface might wish otherwise!"

Nereus snorted the name she gave Master Stone. It was fitting, to say the least.

“He’s being called ‘The Brickwall’ by the younger generation these days,” he informed her playfully.

"Relax, kid. I'm about the last Jedi Master who'd criticize you for what you did. Frack, I was using the Force to cheat at cards while you were still in diapers!"

His cheeks burned slightly when he realized that he’d been arguing with Master Shay Marin of all people. He’d been taught better than this, for Force’s sake! Rubbing the back of his head in a rare gesture of embarrassment, he answered in a meeker tone.

“My apologies, Master. It’s a subject I’ve been reprimanded about, so I must admit to being a bit defensive about it.”

"The story did give me a good laugh though; your late Master had quite a flair with words."

Oh dear, he’d told the Council in a meeting? The padawan had always thought it was just a side note on his record, something mentioned in passing. Master Veradis had always been a talented storyteller, even if he was prone to exaggeration – probably why he got along so well with Master Vir, they must have rambled with each other – so he must have made a scene out of it before the Council members. Surprise, embarrassment and then resigned amusement passed through Nereus’s eyes.

“The old man always was a bit of drama queen,”, he agreed with a note of fondness in his voice.

"Well done, Padawan, I was wondering when you'd figure me out. Consider that your first test. I'm big on testing people in general; it's a side effect of living the life I have these past two decades. I see no reason to change that just because I'm teaching an apprentice for the first time. Think you can handle it?"

Thoroughly enjoying the woman’s teasing, he answered with a melodramatic bow and flourish.

“I shall endeavour to do so at the best of my capacities, Milady,”, he answered in a uncannily accurate parody of a Coruscanti high-class accent.

As silent as he could possibly be, Callan snuck through the cavernous hallways of the Jedi Redoubt. After his most recent prank, he was fairly sure that the poodoo was about to hit the fan. Garth hadn't been Callan's Master for very long, and the Padawan was curious to see how the Drall would take a bit of pranking.

Callan ran through what he had done recently in his mind, laughing to himself all the while. He snuck into Master Norghar's quarters with a large pink bow (complete with white polka dots) and a little golden bell in his arms. He'd brought some string along with the strongest glue that he could find. Being as silent as he could, knowing that his Master was quite tired after everything that had been going on recently, Callan crept to his bedside. First, he tied and glued the pink bow to the top of Garth's head, making sure to leave a bit of fur sticking out over the top to preserve the 'little girl' look. He then did the same with the bell, but insead of his head, Callan stuck and tied the shiny, golden ball to his Master's stubby tail. He then crept back out into the chambers and halls of Shedu Maad.

Thinking back on the deed, Callan found himself laughing so hard that he nearly burst into tears. He and Master Tarre had always loved to mess with eachother, and he had no problem continuing the tradition with him new, more diminutive Master.

Suddenly, Callan heard the noise that he had been dreading for the last few minutes. The jingling of a little golden bell. Knowing full well that Master Norghar would be trailing his Force Signature, Callan took off through the halls at a dead sprint. He careened around corners, not paying any attention to where he was going. All that he knew was that the pretty little noise was chasing him.

Callan cut a corner quickly and found himself in one of the docking bays of the Redoubt. Standing nearby were Nereus, a fellow Padawan, and Master Marin, of the Council. Callan new that it probably wasn't smart, but the safest place to hide was behind the blonde Jedi Master. So, still laughing and with tears coming down his cheeks, Callan ran behind the Master, who was slightly smaller than him and hid behind her. He placed his hands on her shoulders and peeked his head out from behind her own.

"Master, I think he might just kill me. Please save me?"

Still busting a gut, Callan listened for the bell and watched the entrance for when Master Norghar came around.

Garth hadn't had any rest in what seemed like forever. Between training his new Padawan, Callan, and teaching Younglings, he had barely slept for weeks. So, when the opportunity arose to lay down and get some shut-eye, Garth took it without question. He was in the middle of a wonderful dream about a sunny field back on Drall when he was awoken by the sound of footsteps retreating from his room. He lazily opened his eyes and looked around his now empty quarters. Well, he was up now, and there would be no going back to sleep until later. The Drall slowly rose to his feet, but paused once he did. He could have sworn he heard a quiet jingling noise...

He ignored what he dismissed as an illusion of drowsiness and began to walk towards the door to the rest of the redoubt when he heard the jingling again. This time he stopped. He knew he had heard it that time. He twisted his head around and looked around for the noise. The movement brought another jingle. Garth looked down to find a bell tied and glued to his tail. Only one person in the entire Order could have done that to him. Callan. He was about to exit his room when he felt something on his head as well. He went to the mirror in his bathroom and saw a pink bow, complete with polkadots, sitting between his ears. Callan was gonna pay.

The Drall reached back and tore the bow off of his tail, bringing an unexpected amount of pain. A small tuft of fur had been pulled off along with the bell. He wasn't about to pull the bow off too. So instead he left his room, bow still in tact and bell in his hands. He quickly found Callan's Force Signature and followed it through the luckily deserted hallways of the Redoubt. Before long, he came to one of the Redoubt docking bays. Inside he felt the signatures of Callan, Shay, and Nereus, another Padawan.

The Drall stood in the doorway for a few moments before spotting Callan hiding behind Master Marin. "You," Garth said, pointing at his Padawan. Telepathically, to Shay, he said, Watch this.

Garth put on his best mad face and exuded anger through the Force as best as he could. It wasn't exactly a common practice for him, but he tried his darndest.

"I take you in as my Padawan," Garth began, trying hard not to laugh. "And this is how you repay me? By interrupting my rest and making me look like a fool in front of the whole Order?"

Garth crossed his arms in front of him and did his best to look pissed as hell. "How'd I do?" he asked Shay. "Did I pull off the whole 'angry' vibe?"

"I was foolish enough to forget to put my gloves when I was eight years old. In retrospective, the Archives probably weren’t the best place to go in this particular case."

The older woman's sympathy for her new student deepened at this revelation from the Kiffar. Her own sensitivities in the area of psychometry were relatively limited, but even she'd had a few bad run-ins over the years while poking and prodding the wrong sorts of items without properly preparing herself for the impact. From what she'd been able to detect from Nereus so far, he practically seemed to re-live the memory impressions he perceived, so intense was the experience to him. "Everyone makes mistakes. If you ever worry yours are in some way worse than other people's, remind me to tell you about some of my own." Humility was one of Shay's strongest suits, along with patience. If another Jedi could learn from her past errors, she'd gladly share every last embarrassing incident of her career with her Padawan.

"I think it’s a good thing - I was quite the broody little thunder cloud when he took me in."

Pale brows quirked upwards in mild surprise at that. "Really? Seems like we had a lot in common as Initiates then. When Gandon picked me up, I was well on my way towards becoming a female version of Master Stone." A faint smile played across her lips at the indulgence in recollection of her younger self. "Not to mention I kept trying so very kriffing hard to be the perfect Jedi. It took several years for the old man to thoroughly disabuse me of the notion that there was any such thing."

"He’s being called ‘The Brickwall’ by the younger generation these days."

The light that flared in her amber eyes at that point was positively gleeful. "Really now? That's good to know. For the record, Gandon calls him the 'Buzzkill' whenever he's feeling like being particularly irritating that day." Which was most every day, truth be told. It took something on the order of those gory scenes with the serial killer back on Gerrenthum to knock the elder Investigator out of his flippant groove for long. "I swear, that man has picked up more nicknames in his lifetime than anyone else I know." A rueful smirk tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Quite possibly as a direct result of his own staunch refusal to call anyone by their own, something which frustrates Titch and me to no end."

"My apologies, Master. It’s a subject I’ve been reprimanded about, so I must admit to being a bit defensive about it."

"Well, don't be," she offered, all at once the very soul of serenity and acceptance. "You've no reason to ever get defensive about anything with me, Nereus. I don't expect you to be infallible, just honest. That's the only way either of us will learn from eachother." Shay's words were not some sort of empty placation; she truly meant them. Padawan Sark was her very first student, after all, and she expected he would teach her at least as much as she taught him during the next few years.

"The old man always was a bit of drama queen."

The Sentinel found it heartening to see the Kiffar could speak so much about his previous Master without indulging overmuch in sorrow for his passing. It said a lot for the young man's maturity level and mastery of his emotions. "I know how that goes," she offered in friendly commiseration. Not only did Master Vir have a decided flair for the dramatic as well, but he often went out of his way to involve others in his little 'performances'. Force knew Shay had lost track of how many times Gandon had thoroughly embarrassed her in the process during her own apprenticeship. She still had several years of counter-prankings left to even the score.

"I shall endeavour to do so at the best of my capacities, Milady."

Again the older woman's laughter resonated down the stone corridors of the Redoubt. She couldn't help herself, nor did she want to try. It had been so long since she'd met another Jedi who held as strong a sense of the absurd as she did. "With acting chops like that, I might just make an Investigator out of you yet!" she teased back in return. In truth, she wasn't about to lay any kind of expectations on Nereus in that regard. If it turned out he wanted to follow in her footsteps, great, but she wasn't even so much as going to nudge him in that direction. The work she did best wasn't for everyone, or even for most.

After they had entered the docking bay but before they'd finished closing the distance towards the Lucidity, the Dolomarian's instincts clued her in on some approaching mischief. Glancing back the way the two of them had come, she watched with a mild sense of bewilderment as one of Nereus' chronological peers came rushing towards her, practically throwing out his voice with the force of his laughter. Pun not intended. Even more amusing was the fact her fellow human decided to try to use her as cover, despite the fact he exceeded her height by a handful of inches.

"Master, I think he might just kill me. Please save me?"

"You. I take you in as my Padawan. And this is how you repay me? By interrupting my rest and making me look like a fool in front of the whole Order?"

Shay observed the initial exchange between the other Master-Padawan pair in silence, expending a modicum of will to keep her expression neutral. Internally she thought the entire situation was uproariously funny, but it wouldn't help the performance the Knight was trying to pull off if she openly laughed at his alleged outrage. "Huh. I've always considered yellow to be more your color, Master Garth. And I would've gone with stripes over polka dots. They're a little more dignified," she opined with a perfectly straight delivery.

::How'd I do? Did I pull off the whole 'angry' vibe?::

::Definitely,:: the Sentinel transmitted back in a telepathic undertone, below the level of perception the Padawans were likely capable of detecting. ::You're a lot more convincing at playing mad these days than you were back when I was their age!:: Mindful of the potential reactions from her own student since he wasn't 'in' on the joke, Master Marin slid a quick glance Nereus' way to check out his expression.

"Everyone makes mistakes. If you ever worry yours are in some way worse than other people's, remind me to tell you about some of my own."

“I’ll remember that if I ever manage to feel depressed, Master,” the Kiffar answered with a wry smile. “Besides, it really isn’t that bad – besides a few violent ones and knowing more about Rodian mating rituals than I ever wanted to, they’re actually quite useful.”

He rarely had those flashes nowadays, something he attributed to his growing mastery over himself – well, mastery was a bit pretentious of a term, really. He controlled his emotions better, and reaching into that eternal current of calm serenity his late mentor had introduced him to was beginning to be almost instinctive. He’d never be a block of carbonite like Master Stone, but he’d be able to attain the legendary Jedi calm soon enough. He’d been told, however, that the day he was able to contain his psychometry was the day he would accept his parent’s murder – and Nereus didn’t foresee that happening any time soon.

"Really? Seems like we had a lot in common as Initiates then. When Gandon picked me up, I was well on my way towards becoming a female version of Master Stone."

The padawan raised an incredulous eyebrow at the idea of the cheerful and irreverent Master being quiet and stuffy.

"Not to mention I kept trying so very kriffing hard to be the perfect Jedi. It took several years for the old man to thoroughly disabuse me of the notion that there was any such thing."

“Is quisnam hath non a dram of insania in suus farrago hath talentum of ultum peior res in suus composition.”

The words slid out of his mouth before he could help himself – that particular saying had always been a favourite of Master Veradis’s and he’d heard it so many times that it came naturally. “He who hath not a dram of folly in his mixture hath pounds of much worse matter in his composition.” It was an Old Dolomarian proverb, oddly enough – how ironic considering the Confederation’s present position on such matters. His lips quirked at the sharp accuracy of the ancient words, acknowledging the truth in the Councilwoman’s statement.

"Really now? That's good to know … which frustrates Titch and me to no end."

“I sympathize with your frustration – your parents must have had quite the twisted sense of humour to name you Shae'andri'lar,” the Kiffar quipped.

“Well, don't be. You've no reason to ever get defensive about anything with me, Nereus. I don't expect you to be infallible, just honest. That's the only way either of us will learn from each other."

“I doubt I have much to teach you, Master. Jedi don’t reach the Council by selling cookies – well, in most cases anyway,” the Kiffar answered with a sardonic raise of the eyebrow. “Although… From what I’ve heard, perhaps I should share a few culinary tips?”

His tone was light and there was a definite mischievous glint in his golden eyes. As a matter of fact, he’d never heard anything said about Shay’s cooking – but in his experience members of the female sex tended to get somewhat outraged when prodded in that particular domain.

“With acting chops like that, I might just make an Investigator out of you yet!"

Just as Nereus prepared to answer, he felt the familiar presence of Callan entering the edge of his perceptions. There was a flurry of emotions of his friend, and the Consular took the time to discern them – elation, a very high degree of amusement, a bit of fear… No, more like apprehension. Since what had been dubbed the “Archives Incident”, he’d grown a lot closer to the unruly human that was Callan Lash – he could in all honesty say that his fellow padawan was his closest friend. As such, he’d grown a lot better at reading Callan’s emotions: they were a lot like the adolescent himself. Blunt, strong and slightly wild, his friend contrasted with his own milder and composed nature.

"Master, I think he might just kill me. Please save me?"

Grinning widely, the Kiffar watched his friend’s antics with genuine affection.

“What hole have you managed to dig yourself into this time, Call?” the padawan asked dryly.

"You. I take you in as my Padawan. And this is how you repay me? By interrupting my rest and making me look like a fool in front of the whole Order?"

“Huh. I've always considered yellow to be more your color, Master Garth. And I would've gone with stripes over polka dots. They're a little more dignified,"

Nereus felt a telepathic brush at the edge of his presence, directed towards Master Marin. His eyes flitted quickly from the Knight to the Councilwoman, a slight widening of his eyes the only indication he’d caught there had been an exchange. He doubted this was serious, so he decided to add his own grain of salt.

“Yellow would bring out his eyes nicely,” the Kiffar agreed, merriment dancing in his pupils.

Just before Master Norghar entered the hangar, Callan heard the question that Nereus had directed his way. Callan had recently become accustomed to the presence of the Kiffar in his life. While before the Korriban Assault they had rarely spoken, afterwards, the two of them had become very good friends. Callan may have gone as far as to say that Nereus was his closest friend and confidant. Callan through his friend a smirk and answered him.

"Just wait for it, Ner."

One thing that Callan didn't expect from Master Norghar after his little prank was outright rage. Normally, the Drall seemed like an easy to get along with individual. But now...he seemed completely livid. But the one thing that kept Callan from being even remotely afraid of his Master was the fact that the little pink bow looked even more ridiculous when he was as angry as he was.

Still, Callan immediately stopped laughing when his Master addressed him, out of respect more than anything at this point. As much fun as he'd had with his little prank, Master Garth seemed genuinely angry, and if he didn't like the pranking Callan would stop. Still...while on the outside, Callan was quiet and respectful, on the inside, he was losing his mind with laughter.

All of that was in vain, as Master Marin and Nereus through their two credits in mere moments after Garth's tirade. Callan quickly lost his composure, and resumed laughing so hard that tears streamed down his face.

Very quickly, his stomach began to hurt from the excessive laughter, so he doubled over to hold his midsection and stop himself from laughing. As he bent over at the waist, his datapad that had been in his front inner pocket fell to the floor. Worried for the information that was stored on it, Callan quickly stopped laughing and bent down to retrieve it.

Wiping excess tears from his face, he realized that he had not yet asked any of the Council or Master Norghar about the identity of his father. Thoughts of the man had taken over most of Callan's waking hours and even some of the sleeping ones. Now that Master Marin was standing so close, Callan wasn't about to pass up an opportunity to ask her about his father.

Callan knew that it would seem odd to the Councilwoman to just flat-out ask her about him, but he didn't much care at the moment. Not knowing was driving Callan insane and he felt as if he absolutely had to know. Quickly flicking the screen to show the image of Callan's mother and the unknown father, Callan turned and handed the datapad to Master Marin. He took one last glance at the man who bore such a resemblance to Callan before the datapad passed into Master Marin's hands.

"I'm sorry if this is strange, Maste Marinr, but I was wondering if you could tell me who that man is...he's my father."

Wth that, he angled his head so that he could see Garth.

"And I apologize Master...It won't happen again, I promise."

The Padawan turned once more, looking expectantly at Shay, hoping with all of his being that she could answer his quesion about the identity of his father.

::Definitely. You're a lot more convincing at playing mad these days than you were back when I was their age!::

::Yes well I've had a few decades of practice since then,:: Garth returned. ::But you know your little comments aren't helping. It makes it quite difficult to properly frighten a Padawan with a Master making quips like that.::

It was difficult to keep up an angry exterior while having a rather mirthful conversation with Master Marin. And to make matters worse Shay's Padawan decided to chime in as well. Great, now he was going to have to go to an extreme with his re-pranking of Callan that he hadn't wanted to originally. Oh well, it would be fun to see how Callan reacted to it.

Garth watched with an unamused look on his face as Callan laughed excessively. The Drall put on an impatient face and tapped his foot as if he were waiting for Callan to finish. It took a good long while for the Padawan to finish. Garth had to try very hard to prevent himself from joining his Padawan in his laughter. He had to admit, the bow was quite a hilarious accessory for the Drall to be wearing. He had seen himself in the mirror in his room and in several windows and had seen the humor in his appearance, but it was time to get back at the Padawan.

"And I apologize Master...It won't happen again, I promise."

Garth nodded slowly. "You're right," he said. "It won't. Good luck with you new Master."

With that the Knight whipped the bow off of his head, turned on his heel, and walked towards the exit of the hangar. He tried to sense the feelings running through Callan after that comment. With any luck, the Padawan would be scared shitless. Garth didn't intend to actually leave the Padawan, of course. It was just a (hopefully) well-played re-prank.